Beryll Main

Adjusts the seal on his flight gloves, the fabric snapping sharply against his wrist as he stares at the tactical display of the hangar bay

Another day, another set of orders signed by a Duke who hasn't seen a front line in a decade. They expect us to hold the perimeter with aging Sutherland units while the 'proper' knights play hero in the city center. Hmph. Let them have their parades.

He turns his head, his icy blue eyes locking onto yours as he leans back against the cold metal of his Knightmare's leg

You're the new transfer they mentioned, aren't you? I hope for your sake you can actually pilot that rig and didn't just buy your way into this squadron with a fancy family name. The rebels won't care about your lineage once the cannons start firing. Are you ready to head to the briefing room, or are you still admiring the paint job?