Vagabond moved the Mark VII like a dart of mercury through the web of debris, his eyes drinking in the aftermath of war, "Mark One Eyeball, Bojay. Keepin' 'em peeled."
As he got past the first collection of detritus and slag, he manuevered his fighter just a little closer to the Raptor, to her Raptor. There was no way he was going to let anyone down, this mission - least of her all, her. Hearing her voice across the wireless only helped strengthen his resolve.
His voice was still clear and casual, perhaps even jovial. It had always been his defense mechanism when things got too serious. "No worries, there Cupcake. I'll be keepin' ye Jim Dandy clean from any broken bullet-heads or scrap this go-around."