Michael Angellus
Lyra Ventor
Devin Virell
Kayla Luspark
The cockpit felt smaller around her today. Not because the X‑wing was cramped it always was but because the adrenaline still humming in Susanoo's veins made every breath feel too large for the space. The control yoke vibrated faintly beneath her gloves as she guided the starfighter into formation first, trailing behind the rest of her squadron a shadow. Their engines flared ahead of her in neat, disciplined lines. The upper atmosphere had peeled away in streaks of pale gold and white as the hangar bay came into view a yawning mouth of light carved into the side of the station. Her interface HUD flickered with landing vectors.
She acknowledged them with a clipped tap of her thumb, her motions precise, economical. Even in the solitude of the cockpit, she carried herself with the rigid poise of someone raised on discipline and expectation. The X‑wing dipped into the hangar's shield curtain, the blue shimmer rippling across the canopy like water disturbed by a stone. Inside, the world shifted from the cold vastness of space to the warm hum of repulsors, shouting deckhands, and the metallic scent of coolant. Her squadron touched down one by one, their landing struts kissing the deck with practiced ease. Susanoo brought up the rear, throttling back with a smooth pull that made the engines purr in submission.
The moment the ship settled, the cockpit hissed open, releasing a breath of recycled air that carried the faint tang of ozone. Susanoo rose from the pilot's seat in a single fluid motion, the harness straps snapping free from her shoulders. The cramped interior forced her to fold herself with deliberate control, every movement measured so she didn't strike the canopy or bulkhead. The starfighter seemed almost too small to contain her, as though it had been built for someone else and merely tolerated her presence out of respect. Boots hit the deck with a weight that turned a few heads. She didn't use the ladders as she could almost lift herself into the cockpit normally.
Crew members paused in their tasks not out of surprise, but out of the instinctive awareness that followed her wherever she went. She carried an aura of coiled strength, a quiet storm held in check by sheer will. Even without a word, she commanded the space around her. The hangar lights caught the faint sheen of sweat along her neck, the subtle rise and fall of her breath after the long flight. A stray wisp of pale hair had escaped its strict confinement, brushing against her cheek as if defying the discipline she imposed on herself. Her squadron was already gathering near the briefing alcove. Engines wound down. Tools clattered.
The hangar buzzed with life. Susanoo walked toward them, posture straight, gaze sharp, the echo of battle still simmering beneath her calm exterior.
Brady Dylan and
Tarno Touro had gotten out of their fighters an come over towards her as the second flight were prepared. Each of them massive in their presence as flightsuits strained. The question drawing attention while they were walking to join the others and
Elara came running up behind
Kaela. THe mechanic was taking a smaller moment to look at the ships and direct the droids for checks. "You're back." Elara beamed seeing the squadron that had rescued her and Susanoo looked down at herr with a nod of her head. "We are."
Susanoo Tsukuyomi
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