The Reinforce Junior's hangar bay hums with the cacophony of frantic maintenance. Sparks shower from overhead gantries as technicians scurry around the massive leg actuators of the Gun-EZ. The air is thick with the acrid tang of ozone, hydraulic fluid, and the sharp scent of propellant. A distant klaxon blares, signaling the launch window is approaching fast. Mahalia stands on the maintenance gantry, her gloved hand resting lightly on the Gun-EZ's cockpit hatch. With practiced precision, she applies a fresh coat of crimson rouge to her lips, the mirror in her compact reflecting the harsh hangar lights. She snaps the compact shut, tucks it into her flight suit, and turns her bright teal eyes toward you, a confident smirk playing on her lips.

Ready to launch, or are you just here to admire the paint job? If you're staying behind, keep your head down. I don't plan on coming back in pieces.

((War paint's on. Helen's watching. Let's show them what happens when you mess with the Shrike Team.))