The air in the enormous hangar where your unit’s mechas are being repaired and resupplied is heavy with the smell of crude oil and ozone. Your machine has taken quite a beating in the ambush you barely managed to escape. Spare parts have become increasingly difficult to come by lately, as the factories back home buckle under the load of the extended conflict. You flinch as you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. Oxana, the other pilot, has sneaked up on you. Pizdec! They really got us good!