The Flagship of the third wing of the Cyclonian Army continued to cruise silently towards the Condor, the three Cyclonian Blade Skimmers flying only 3-quarters of an Olta away.
'Little Bird Alpha, objectives confirmed. Board the Condor, find 'R' of Project : Firestorm and eliminate him and the Storm Hawks. You have your orders, carry them out!' the voice on the radio blasted through.
'Copy that War Ghost 2, Little Bird Alpha out'
The heavy hand that held the radio slowly put it back onto the latch, it went back to softly stroking the Darium Fire Halberd stuck between the armour of his legs.
The only thing to be heard apart from the silence was the soft hum of the Blade Skimmers as its Twin Exhaust Engines propelled it softly through the Sky. No one, not even they're commander spoke, they didn't even look at each other. This is how the worked, it was how they operated.
Above most common concepts of Cyclonian Combat, they didn't speak because they didn't want to.
Radarr's average perception of Bed time was snuggling down in his basket with a good lump of whatever he could get his hands on, food that is. However this time, his perception was not quite the request that Radarr had hoped to obtain, being found out wasn't the bad thing, but going back to bed with a growling stomach was.
He grumbled at his defeat and quietly crept over to his basket, as he slowly began to place himself back into the warmth of the soft blanket he rubbed the fur on his stomach still sour at his failure.
'Ah, well' He thought 'There's always next time;'
Radarr sniggered at this realisation, next time he would have to be more careful he knew, but now was not a time to contemplate snack times, Radarr was tired and sleep was the next highest priority to him. Quietly he snuggled down into the basket, basking in the warmth of the blanket he purred softly as his eyes slowly closed.
Yet the sure and steady veil of the night was broken, breached in what could and should be a more appropriate term.
Being a stable flight plan for the Condor the open sky proceeded to be a sufficient medium for the Flagship of the Storm Hawks, it meant they could wistfully sleep in peace without bashing into any other Sky Ships or Terras, or Ravaging Mandols, as Stork liked to remind everyone.
But this breach, sufficient by any standards of infiltration was not by Terras or Monsters, but rather by three silent Skimmers flying covertly towards the Condor, a team of 3 Thunder Corps Troopers on each Skimmer.
'War Ghost 2, this is Little Bird Alpha, objective reached, beginning input stage'
'Spare me the Radio blabber you fools and just get the job done' retorted an upset Ravess, it appeared that the lack of sleep was finally taking its toll.
'Understood Commander' became the fear filled voice of the leading Thunder Corps Trooper. It was orders like the one which he had just received that often marked the end of someone's life, the Trooper just hoped that it wasn't his.
Travelling at equal speed the Skimmers glided softly along side the Condor their long red Potradium-Tarus Plated wings touching apart only by mere centimetres, a fete such as this required precision stealth and accuracy, any wrong move would almost certainly send the Blade skimmer flying out of control and violently slamming into the side of the Condor.
Yet without much difficulty the Skimmer finally met the hard Metal Hull of the Condor, it was the sheer scope of the situation that was so outstanding.
'Contact' came the silent voice of the Lead Trooper, at an instance of this command the Troopers silently implemented their plan. Without even a flicker of hesitation the Armour Clad Cyclonians swiped they're arms out and grabbed the Signature Halberds from the handles of the Skimmers.
Crawling out onto the Wings of the Skimmer they knelt down ignoring the throb of they're knees as the Armour Plates dug deep into them.
Slowly the Thunder Corp Lead Trooper crept over the wing and turned the emotionless abyss that he called a face towards his Troopers.
'Alright, Team 1, Objective Engines, take em out and destroy the critical equipment, this bird is to be dead in the air in 3 minutes. Team 2, the Skimmers in the Hangar are not to leave this bird, not now, not ever again. Understood?'
The Troopers nodded, and in the presence they looked at each other, they always did this, sometimes these Troopers went into battle, sometimes they didn't make it out. It was also wise to get a good look at them in case they became more bodies that often piled up in the climax of these kind of Operations.
'Team 3' The Lead Trooper snarled, breaking the empathy, 'Your coming with me, we going to find 'R', and kill him'
At once a soft gasp erupted under the mask of one of the Troopers, at once all of the others turned to face him, snarling looks sprawled all over their faces.
'You would be wise to conceal your fear, or whatever it is your feeling, it may just cost you your life' came the growling voice of the Lead Trooper.
The Trooper nodded and forced the gasp into a stubborn and solemn look.
'No matter what you see or do, the Storm Hawks are not to get up in the morning, now lets move'
Silently yet slowly the Elite of the Cyclonian Fleet began the grudging journey of ascending the hard Metal Armour of the hull of the Condor.
Radarr's basket was the product of a combination of soft Skylon and a hard amount of half-dead Abaxa Tree Twigs, everyone almost certainly knew that such an object was bound to fall apart as soon as anyone so much as breathed on it, yet it had held Radarr's weight for long time now, and to everyone's amazement, it was still continuing that task.
Yet even with the Skylon coating and the softness of a deep blue blanket there were always nights that somehow managed to prolong Radarr's awareness, something which was deeply opposed to his natural sleep routine, and it was turning out to be one of those nights.
Radarr tossed himself in the blanket and settled for a few seconds hoping that the essence of sleep would creep over him, but it didn't. He grumbled and turned himself over again, landing on his side. Once again he waited for sleep to creep up on him, but once again it didn't.
'Why does it have to be one of those nights? Please tell me!' he sniggered ironically.
Radarr hated these nights, every morning after he would wake up, his eye lids only half open, he would bash into Aerrow cupboards and get hit on the head with the clock or crystal the often inhabited the top of the cupboards, most likely a product of having slow reaction time that could be attributed to lack of sleep.
'Oh what's the use' he sighed flipping onto his back, amazingly this was the one position that always seemed to do the trick, after about 3 or 4 hours. He couldn't believe it, only a few minutes ago he had been dog tired, but now? He found himself unable to keep himself from flicking his tail around.
Yet Radarr knew that sleep was vital, especially with the very likely and distinct possibility of Cyclonian Attack in the night or morning. Slowly he let his eyelids lockdown upon his eyes.
A quaint sound echoed quietly in Aerrow room, bouncing itself off the walls and slamming firmly into Radarr's flopped ears. A soft clamping sound, heavily metallic in all motions though.
Radarr rubbed his head, 'Its either way to early in the morning or too late at night to for Stork to be clamping around in them kind of shoes, even if they are resistant to Mind Worm Venom'
'What a minute…'Radarr suddenly thought. His eyes opened sharply, and his ears pricked up eager to absorb more of the noise.
'Those shoes are at the bottom of the gorge, I know about that, I threw them down there'
Radarr was puzzled by the noise, especially now since it had gotten louder, like heavy footsteps. It was hard trying to remove the warm blanket, but at this situation it was better than trying to sleep. Ignoring the sudden rush of cold that greeted him as he removed the blanket he clambered out of his basket and staggered over to the door rubbing his forehead.
'This better be good' he grumbled. Finally reaching the open door to Aerrow's room he shrank to its side and poked his ear out into the corridor. The noise had become louder, definitely footsteps.
'I hate to say this' Radarr thought 'But I've got a bad feeling about this'
It was probably the darkness, but darkness and feeling were two different things, and in this situation they presented little disadvantage or advantage to the common reaction of heading out into the Corridor to 'investigate'.
Creeping slowly Radarr tip toed across the Corridor, deeper and closer towards the sound.