Her arrival is hardly subtle, when you know what to listen out for.

Twilight has just settled over the airbase, when a faint purring can be heard overhead; nearing its destination, it becomes a roar.

A roar of twin rockets.

The ceiling hatch hisses open, allowing the pilot to land upon the helipad, and the soft thud of her armour is the only noise that follows.

“Skies are clear,” Fareeha announces by way of greeting, pulling off her helmet and tucking it under her arm in a relaxed manner.