RP: ISC Phoenix [Mission 8] Dawning Concerns

Robert appeared like an avenging angel of fury as he ran through the door, firing his Fatboy at Vitrol. As he closed in on Vitrol, he lept and slammed him in another direction after Zeta's brutal assault.

Malice never saw the microwave coming, or the impressive display of initiative from Mr. Smith. As her newly improvised headwear fried her head like an egg in a microwave, Luca turned around in a hurry as she screeched in pain and saw Mr. Smith, just having finished the motions of administering the microwave to Malice.

I like him, is all he thought to himself as he boggled at the now melting puddle of woman and the man responsible. He felt it necessary to punctuate Mr. Smith's pre-arse-kicking one-liner with a pre-mortem one liner, "You're overdone, Mal."

He then put his leg up and gave her an extremely firm kick in the chest, pushing her backwards several paces and finishing her off. Luca then proceeded to flash a smile to Mr. Smith.
"So, have you ever considered that something is missing in your life?" He asked Mr. Smith cordially, in the middle of the battle.

However, he'd left his back open to Vitriol, who was looming right behind him. Fortunately, his diligent bodyguard and knife-happy assistant were watching his back.

"As though there's a hole in your heart and a reckless need to go out and cause property damage and piss off people who want to destroy the universe," Behind him, Vitriol was about to stab the captain mid speech before Zeta applied some hefty, power-armour assisted blunt force trauma, "All in the name of getting a pat on the back, a bit of money, a few more enemies and opportunities to set wrongs right, a hefty bounty, and your name on the list of good deed doers?"

Robert then got in on the fun, mimicking Zeta and sending Vitriol back the way he came, bouncing it back to Zeta as though he was a bumper in a pinball machine.
"It's not a job for the faint of heart but you've got the nuts to do it, I can tell," Luca then turned around and took a few steps back to stand next to Mr. Smith, while eyeballing a shot with a HHG full of red bullets.

"Clear the area!" He ordered as Vitriol was pushed into a wall. He then proceeded to whip the loaded HHG and fire it as though it was a single-action revolver, eight times in rapid succession. Each exploding shot was spreading Vitriol's now very bruised body apart further and further. Every inch further away he was from the rest of himself was more time for reinforcements to show up.

After that, Luca made a note to get his ears checked.

He looked about himself, now without an enemy or obvious threat nearby, and holstered his weapon with a satisfied smile, "Alright, can we get this entire place frozen?" He asked Mr. Smith was recalling his tangle with Malice at the bar back in Nepleslia Prime, "They'll be easier to transport if we do, and it'll slow 'em down."

Robert didn't even question his boss when told to clear the area. He simply lept back and watched the bullets rain down onto vitriol. He looked over at Luca who was talking to Mr. Smith. "hooo boy. I think he's trying to recruit Mr. Smith. How well do ya think that'll go over with Aerin?" he asked Zeta casually as he changed batteries on his Fatboy.

Panther crouched down as someone fell past his position on the catwalk. I wonder if that was the Luca, he seems to take a liking to falling into battle, the black furred creature thought while taking a moment to observe the fighting.

He looked up the catwalk and decided to continue moving along thinking that the creatures might feel vibrations more than they could hear, but that was assumption on what they looked like. He wondered if he would run into one, the thought put a smile on his beastly face with the thought of a formidable challenge before him.

Seiren had since exhausted more than half his ammo supply since he began engaging Vitrol from the rather large hole in the wall, aiming for what may or may not have been Vitrol's face. Off-coms, he mumbled about how he'd never be able to eat Jell-o again after this debacle came to a close.

Enzo reloaded his weapons and smoked as much as he could behind the safety of his cover, barely listening to the roar of the fight raging nearby. His ears caught Luca's invitation to Smith and a smile turned up on his face. Smith was a Nepleslian, and therefore likable to him. But the man also smelled of money. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he went crazy in battle: it all smelled so sourly of money. And that's why Enzo made up his mind to jump back into the fray. This time with renewed vigor. The skinny gangster turned and raised his hands, arms outstretched and guns loaded, locked, and ready to fire.

The Peashooter sang Bass while the SEP sang Tenor. Together, they weaved a violent duet of the most intricate nature. Years of turning to shoot someone chasing him gave Enzo the steadiest aim he could muster. Each shot was timed perfectly between the blows of the other crew member, pointed right at Vitriol's head. A single drop of black goop flying off of the monster knocked the cigarette out of Enzo's mouth. He kept firing as it tumbled down to the ground in what seemed like slow motion to him. It seemed so perfect that as soon as the Peashooter emptied its magazine and the battery died on the SEP, the orange ember on the cigarette exploded into a shower of orange sparks as it hit the floor, hissing out in a puddle of black goop still twitching at Enzo's left foot.

Zeta was laying on her back. She still heard some fire and Luca talking. She watched ceiling, but it was quite uninteresting. She had no idea what just happened, she didn't expect to move that fast. Her right handed twitched and she felt it move slightly worse now. How fast did she go in that boost? In that boose with energy put into acceleration. Probably fast.

"Bloody hell," Zeta said and slowly stood up. "You still don't have enough you big black wanker eh?" She walked to her plasma rifle and picked it up. She released plasma cap and loaded new one. Weapon was once more ready to fire.

Vitriol looked like he was in pain, Luca just shot him for the last time. Then Enzo started firing himself. She would probably feel sorry for Vitiriol if he hadn't been a murdering goo creature. Oh no she would not. Zeta slowly walked few meters away from goo in pain and aimed her rifle. Her sights shifted on the center of the puddle. SHe then fired and released super-heated plasama from rifle made to kill Ripper.

Zeta then turned around and said, "Okay folks let's bail this place, Captain said we shoudl clear it so let'r do exactly that." She then walked off to Luca waiting for him to do his bussiness. She won't be leaving before him, that is for sure. She still held her rifle in her hands waiting for it to reaload and scannin around for another danger.

Mr. Smith simply stared at Luca for a few brief moments before removing his glasses and walking off to the side. His hands fidgeted with them, attempting to further bend out any of the damage it sustained. "To be honest, I thought I left this all behind. But, you mentioned money, and that's something I need." The Origin Representative put his glasses back on and hefted a large CO2 fire extinguisher. "Give me a pay estimate will you? Aerin pays well, and she's a good boss. I'd hate to give her a hard time, so I'm secretly hoping she pays better than you Mr. Pavone."

Smith casually held the extinguisher in one hand, and pulled his 17mm out with the other, firing as it cleared the holster. Two shots flew from the caseless pistol so quickly that their individual sounds bled together into one as the rounds piled into the back of Vitriol's knee, penetrating, exploding and finally crippling the limb. As the titan fell, the pistol was re-holstered, the extinguisher now held in it's place.

The fire extinguisher's icy cold CO2 billowed about Vitriol until the device could no longer bring the contents into a gas-state, spraying out liquefied gas instead. By the time Smith tossed the Extinguisher into the trash can, Vitriol was frozen solid.

Enzo cut into the conversation and answered Smith in place of Luca stead, "Pay varies, but I notices one thing abouts it since I joined up not too long ago. The more the merrier. Every time Cap'n Pavone hires himself a new hand, checks gets bigger and bigger. I says it's cuz bigger crew does bigger jobs, but the money's always good."

He leaned in to relate the next part at a whisper, "I makes twice as much money do-gooding as I do smuggling and contracting thievin' any day of the week. Let me say that again: This gig pays better than crime."

Without warning, four heavy backpacked men came bursting into the room via the wall. They were wearing overalls and wielding a liquid projector, and a vacuum gun each. They immediately took a look at the frozen Vitriol and Malice. They decided they weren't frozen enough.

"Freeze!" One of them said to the pair as he blasted a stream of liquid nitrogen at them. He then got the vacuum/projector gun and smashed them into a more manageable size as though he was wielding a club. After that, they proceeded to clean up what was left with the vacuums.

Then, as suddenly as they appeared, they left.

"They ain't 'fraid of no goo, are they?" Luca inquired to Mr. Smith as the sounds of car doors rapidly opening and closing could be heard, followed by a car driving off somewhere.

-

Back at the Big Bird, Anna was sitting on the loading ramp idly, sharing stories with Jimmy.
"...so you mean you managed to revive who'd died ten minutes ago without a defib?" Jim seemed incredulous to her stories.

"Miracles do happen, it just takes lots of skill, good timing, and luck," Anna didn't seem too plussed about the whole incident, "Lots of luck and-- what is that?" She nodded towards a saloon-shaped car that'd driven through security with impunity and was heading towards the Big Bird.

It came to a stop and the four men from before came tumbling out. Two of them had what appeared to be over-sized and over-technologied beer kegs in their hands.
"We think you should hang onto this," One of them mentioned, "Don't open it, or drink it!"

"So what do we do with them?" Jimmy inquired as he was given one of the kegs and nearly crushed by the weight.
"Put it in storage, and hope to god that it doesn't escape," Another one of them said.
"What doesn't?" Anna was getting slightly frustrated by this.

"THE MONSTER," A third one said, wiggling his fingers and proceeding to whistle ominously.
Anna gave him a questioning look. That's when the fourth guy raised his hand.

"Just don't open them, alright?" He said, "We bid you good day!" They then proceeded to tumble back into their vehicle, and drive off, just as mysteriously as they'd came.

-

Back at the Factory, Luca had gotten a phone call from Anna demanding what the hell was just dropped in her lap.
"Whatever you do, don't open it," Luca said, "I'll explain later. By the way, have you heard from Dad?"

"Well..." Anna groaned.

-

"So," Sebastian said, "My wife has told me that she has had a pair of mysterious barrels dropped into her lap," He leaned in, "You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with it, would you?"

"Not me personally, but it does sound like one of the special OriSec teams..." Aerin mused, checking into logs via the Station's AI and noting that their files had been encrypted with a code few could crack- but she could see all here "Ah, yes, it's that crew, Good to see they had something to do for once. Those are smallish Antimatter containers, so they should be able to keep whatever's inside them isolated as long as you don't open them." Arein answered, seeming quite satisfied.

John leaned his head in from behind Sebastian and inquired, "Great. I wish we could collect commemorative plates instead," He adjusted his sunglasses bitterly before clearing his throat, "Anyway, we'll take this ship."

Sebastian nodded in approval, "I've got Luca's bank account details, so we can do the transaction when you're ready."

"Well, To be honest, I'm always ready, but that's another story." Aerin grinned, turning to properly face the older man, handing over a small datapad-like device, "Just enter the details in here, and we'll handle the transfer on this end, so long as you agree to all the terms and conditions."

John's eyebrow cocked with what could've been an audible 'twang' noise at her previous statement.

Sebastian skimmed the document and mumbled a little as he did, making sure to read the fine print, "mmhhmm, uh huh, yup," He nodded, noting that it would have a quick retrofit to get the hangar in, as requested. Satisfied with the terms and willing to wait a day, he pulled out a pen and wrote his signature on the datapad without thinking.

He then blinked incredulously, "Whoops," However, his signature was still valid and the transaction was still made. He wiped the ink from the screen with his sleeve and handed it back to Aerin.

"Aaand, the 160K has been transferred to Origin, So everything is set. We'll start work immediately, so you won't have to wait too long. I would also suggest figuring out who goes where, unless you're going to do that yourself, there's plenty of room on board." She wiped a couple missed splotches of Ink off the creen, and pocketed the device, smiling. "I usually don't handle sales, you know, but this isn't too hard, now that I've done it."

Sebastian smiled, "Oh, we sort it out between ourselves," He snickered.
"Dibs on turning the pilot's chair into a recliner," John chuckled. That's when Sebastian's communicator started ringing. He answered.

"Hello? Oh, Son!" He paused for a moment, "Yes we've made the purchase. What? ... Hrm. Well, we have to stay here for a day anyway. ... What do you mean we can't stay?"

"I have the feeling something else is going to pounce on us, but maybe they'll back off after we dealt with Vits and Mally," Back on Luca's end of the line, he was having a three-way conversation.

Aerin could overhear this last sentence: "Oh, by the way, you wouldn't happen to know how to get a hovercar that's stuck in neutral thirty metres in the air back down, do you?"
"...what??" Sebastian mumbled as he passed the phone to Aerin.

Aerin grinned as she took the communicator, and spoke to Luca, not upset at all "Just ask it to." was all she said- the hovercar was computer controlled and had been reprogrammed to respond to Luca when Aerin had handed it over- not to mention it was connected to the Station's AI, which could do the job as well.

"Oh...kay," Luca said as he took his ear away from the phone and took a walk back to where he'd come in at the Testing range. He peered through the first and second holes in the ceiling and hoped that Aerin would overlook the collateral damage, "OI, GET DOWN HERE!"

He requested to the Hovercar, which beeped and responded by hovering down to the roof of the factory quietly, "Anyhoo, is there anything else you'd like us to do? I think we've all safely concluded that your weapons and armour are in excellent nick."

"Well, Unless you plan on purchasing them, most of those armors were loaners, and we'd like them back. As for the weapons, Our representative should be able to tell you more. I believe Smith is there with you?" Aerin answered over the phone, checking records and what little recordings of the battle as she could find.

Luca took a look at Mr Smith, "Well?" he asked.

Matthew, yes, Matthew. Not Mr. Smith for the moment, was nursing his rapidly swelling hand. The recoil compensator built into the 17mm handgun wasn't meant to react to such a quick series of shots. 'That's the last time I shoot from the hip like that with the HUD. he thought to himself.

By the time Luca had turned to him, he already pulled a cold drink out of the rec-room's refrigerator and pressed it against his hand. He was just starting to look shabby and tired, human, but instantly perked up again, all business once more. "Ah, would you like to purchase the same loadout you have here? We wouldn't give you these used ones of course."

The HUD on his glasses finally flickered and died, quickly replaced by the one he had in his implants. Mr. Smith followed it's marker, and looked up Panther. "And would you be interested in a custom variant of the Impulse after seeing your teammates' performance? Perhaps Zesuaium swords or knives?"

After all this, he still planned to get them to buy as much as he could. He tightened his tie back up again from its loosened state.

Zeta was standing next to Luca while everything that happened. Looked like everyhing was okay now. If there were any of Mal-Vic babies running arounf Ori-Sec will handle those. It also seemed that Mal-VIc duo was given to their care. Upon hearing that Zeta turned her head to Luca. "If we are going to have those creeps on ship I want a bazooka!" She said.

She then looked at her right arm. It kinda twitched from the ghard hit. She saw sudden sparkled bursting out of the elbow joint and then the forearm guard feel off. She looked at Smith and said. "I think I broke you thingey."

Click.

The empty energy cartrage clattered on the tile floor. It was a solitary, lonely sound, punctuated by the arrival of a very solitary, but probably not very lonely creature. With precise and meticulous skill, the small Nekovalkyrja smoothly snapped a full cartrage into place from the bandolier draped around her shoulder. The precision in spite of her size and lack of a fifth finger gave her a comfortable feeling. In her, skill and beauty merged. The knowledge bestowed confidence, which showed at that moment in her bearing. She buried the axe haphazardly in a desk, and went to join the others.

Naoko nimbly sidestepped Zeta's destroyed armor peice to stand beside Matthew. Lifting the bandolier over her head, she dropped that also, and it clattered on the floor, cartrages jingling together. Then she said, simply and without any inflection, "Sorry about your jacket."

The salesman's jacket had been gashed by Vitrol's claw, and the front and the buttons would probably never be the same, again. Naoko's own wounds, on the other hand, had closed shortly after they had been dealt. The angry red slashmarks had diminished to pale, pink lines on her stomach and over a breast. In a few minutes, even those marks would likely be gone.

The beautiful little doll looked up at him, adding, "If you intend to accompany us, I will buy you another one, ne?"

That feeling was back. The tightening of his jaws, the pounding of his heart. After that last episode, he'd completely banished her from his mind, ignorance truly being bliss. But ignorance, was just ignoring the inconvenient truth. A little Neko was standing at his hip. And the flashbacks. They kept coming. Smith shoved them aside, and spoke as calmly as he could. "No worries, I was fully prepared for something like this. I've got spares."

That damned sinking feeling. It just wouldn't go away! And the creature didn't help, either; she looked up to him with dark, brown, questioning eyes, as if she actually cared about his jacket. As if she had really, actually intended to buy him another one.

"If you're sure," she said after a while, "I guess that's fine."

Smith had a special program on his glasses' HUD. It was ingenious really; it told him the exact angle he needed to tilt his head and look at someone in order for the glare off the glass to shield his eyes. He badly wanted to hide by using it, but now wasn't appropriate. To cover up the eyes, the traditional portal to the soul. To him. Naoko's looked...empty for the time being, and he didn't want to fall in. As the first bits of moisture came back to Smith, he forced himself to keep looking at her. He had to, or else, or else... "Don't worry about it at all Miss Aihara. They're a dime a dozen." Mr. Smith spoke casually. He couldn't afford to think of what would happen! Not now! He had to stay on his toes.

And then, she smiled.

Everyone was watching. Staring at them, at him. Were they? He didn't dare break eye contact to look and see if they were, or if they were just milling about with their own business. But he did break eye contact. He did turn his head away. He did bring a fist up to cough into. And he blushed. From fear and fury. Still, he knew how they must have looked to the others if they were watching; the turn of the head, the cough, the blush...all easily misinterpreted as something else which he would never, ever feel! Why, the last person he knew who got involved with one of them had -

He shivered, and thanked himself that was easily misinterpreted as well.

Mr.Smith's eyes looked about, for anything to talk about or pay attention to other than her-it whatever! There, the damaged armor! "No worries Miss Zeta. These were merely tryout models, and, well...I admit they're a bit used. But I assure you! They just and will continue to perform up to standard with quick and easy maintenance." The Origin Representative spoke, briefly sounding a little sheepish, and then like a product brochure.

Barely a moment passed before the Nekovalkyrja at his side stated, with mild pretention, "I want one."

If Smith's mental process was represented by a small, cuddly rodent running in a wheel, it just happened to trip and get spun around in a fairly cliche manner. Unlike some other people who would have said 'Pardon me?' or something else that made them look stupid, he was...different in his thinking. The constant growth would mean she'd constantly have to get new custom units made. Which meant more profit for Origin. But then, customer satisfaction wasn't going to be very good, would it? A lightbulb appeared above the little rodent's head. As much as he wanted to price gouge the thing, he was too shrewed a business man to do that. He wanted to live. But oh...how badly he wanted to do it...

ANekosatontopofapileofdeadthugswhilewearingablueMindylickingalolipopwithachildishglee -
The blood was what he remembered. Be-specked in blood, the Nekovalkyrja sat uncaring atop the mount of corpses, her helmet off, sucking without remorse or even a glimmer of revulsion on a lollipop that was probably flavored lime...

He jammed that memory away. Hard. Really hard. "Of course. We could create a custom unit for someone of your size, but that is ill advised due to the lack of -ahem- room to grow. Instead, I recommend a full sized unit, which you'd be able to use when at your proper height setting." he suggested.

"Yes, that is what I had meant," Naoko replied, idly checking the safety settings on the SmAR she carried, oblivious to the fact that the tattered jacket was barely even clinging to her shoulders, anymore. "And you mentioned you can make zesusium weaponry as well. I would like to place an order for a sword. Do you have any materials capable of optical camoflauge?"

The thought of it running around invisible with a sword...no. Just no. "Yes, all melee weapons are custom made for each order to the customer's demands." he replied crisply, maintaining the illusion of normalcy. Inside though, he was cursing to himself. He even made up new ones. "We don't have any devices of that nature, but at mention of this, we could make your requested weapon out of the transparent variety of Zesuaium. However, there may be delays, and a heightened price is a standard due to it's especially limited stock."

'I hate you.' Smith thought.

"No, the weapon is fine, with regular zesusium," the little doll stated, oblivious to his hatred, "I was asking after clothing, or armor. A shame you do not have anything."

'Yes, it is a shame I don't have anything to take your credits away with. he thought venomously. The fear and old feelings that had bubbled up from earlier had been suppressed by now; many said that Hatred was better than Despair, but was that really true? The matter wasn't on his mind at the moment though, as he thought about what they Could sell to her. Ah. Of course. "Miss Aihara, would you be interested in an 'Apparel Array'? It's a volumetric projector designed to create any kind of clothing at the user's whim. I noticed you're still growing, so..."

He let that stand as it was.

Zeta was watching those two. She watned to talk with Smith, but now was not the time. He and small neko had something between them. Didn't look good at all. And with his last remark it could get worse. TIme to dissovle the situation? Zeta took of her helmet and put on one of the surviving tables.

Zeta walked without a word next to small neko and then smacked her lighty weth left hand over the head, like you would scold a child. "Hey kid! Bloody hell what were you thinking doing you hairdo in middle of battle. What would you do if somethin jumped out of the ceiling eh? I tell you what would happen it woul bite you face-off! Nevermind that, but there could be life Origin people still around and you sit down and do you hair. Couldn't you do it on shuttle? Try thinkin a little! You are acting like a spoiled brat!" She said with cold and calm voice helding her hands folded on her chest. Her eyebrows joinin in an angry scowl.

Enzo was quick to react to Zeta's scolding action. A little switch flipped in his head when he saw her light slap over Naoko. A quick jump brought him over Naoko's head and between her and Zeta. A quick arm movement brought the Peashooter between him and Zeta. And another quick sleight of hand brought his knife between it and Zeta. He stood with weapons poised in front his tiny companion.

He spoke slowly, "There is... Seven of us Phoenix's heres. An' we... all got the job... done. Maybes you can lay offs, of , of-- Lay off of MY FUCKIN PAL!"


Enzo's last three words were belted out at the top of his lungs in a growling cadence that echoed throughout the ruined factory. His eyes narrowed and one even twitched. "She may be little, but she ain't a child-- She can makes her own desicions."

A finger tightened around the trigger of the Peashooter. "Do yous understands me, lady?"

Zeta brough herself face to face to Ento. Quite close. "If she is no chlid. She shoud stop behaving like one. And if her fooling around brings harm to anyone of this crew or captain........" She said and paused for a while. "I won't forgive her." She finishes with tomb-like cold voice. Her yes narrowed and she looked right into Enzo!s eyes.

After that little smack, it was as if the aspect of situation had changed. A line had been crossed. But, in truth, that quiet tensing was the only thing that changed about the little mostly-naked weapon. Naoko smoothed down her hair, gently, as Enzo and Zeta argued. Then she pulled the loose braid over her shoulder, preventing it from getting caught up in the madness that was happening just behind her head, and a little above it.

Then she turned her eyes to Matthew again.

With an even, chilly voice, she stated, "Volumetric clothing? That can not be very warm."

Robert took Zeta's side in the argument. "How about you back off my friend Enzo and cool off a bit and think about how she acted? She really could have put us in a bit of danger." he almost growled at Enzo. He placed a reassuring hand on Zeta's shoulder.

The largely ignored OriSec crew by this time had cleaned up the last of the little Angers, and was now converging on the current source of loud noise- the arguers in the rec room. Their diminutive leader stepped forward, SEP bared, and flipped a switch on it. "Allright, you pipsqueaks need to shut up ore it's bedtime!" She threatened, despite the fact that the only one near her size was Naoko, whom was not arguing.

However, despite her own childish stature, Dyna Shevi's words carried the authority of a commander, and the glare in her eyes showed that she meant business. The fact that there was a fully outfitted, battle-tried OriSec crew standing behind her probably did not hurt her image of authority.

******

By this time, the Ambulance had taken Daxle Demalier to the hospital, and, shortly, had made sure that he was in good working order, released him with a full bill of health to Security, who questioned him on what went on, then checked him out, and told him that he could get his stuff back at the hangar, and ordered him a car to get back there. From then on he was on his own to find his way in the station, or off it, if he so desired. The car, dropped him off at a small checkpoint, where his medical supplies and personal effects had been gathered haphazardly along with everyone else's that had been aboard the ship, and he was allowed to take his items, and left alone. Nearby was a red Courier A2 with some work going on in side, watched over by an older gentleman and a few others, one of whom appeared to be an important Origin official.

Without even blinking, Enzo dropped his knife and drew his revolver, bringing it alongside his Peashooter briefly before turning it on Dyna. His eyes shifted between Zeta and Dyna. Robert's comment bounced off of his ears like a pig rolling down a hill.

There was a beat in the air before he spoke to everyone in the room, saying, "I might be willing to not go crazies and kills everyone one of yous before goin' down in flames with holes all in myself if yous will all admits dis one point I gots to make."

Not taking his eyes off of everyone, the greasy vagabond leaned down to his breast pocket and craned his head at an awkward angle, stuck a cigarette to his tongue, pulled it into his mouth.

"If you gets black goo shit in your hair, an yous gots long pretty hair. It makes it kinda hard to fight a fuckin' battle, right? So if you gets black shit in your fuckin' hair; you has to clean it up, see? Now either admit I'm right or light my cigarette and put a fuckin' blindfold on my face; cuz...cuz fuck you an' shit. It ain't fair."