Supplies and amenities aboard the ship had began to fall slowly. Medical, food, water, pretty much the essentials the crew needed most. Restocking was dangerous business and so couldn't be done all at once; it would have been just too suspicious.
Sure, Norune was the trade capita of anywhere really. And especially in terms of black market trading and dealings. Valerie was all too familiar with the city having grown up there.

It had been a rather long time since she had last set foot in the city, guessing she had been about sixteen or seventeen when she left for the nomadic lifestyle. She almost wondered if it was a good idea that she had volunteered to come along on this mission. If she saw the wrong people, and they recognised her, she'd hate to have the others involved in her past troubles.

Strapped into the co-pilot seat, Val bit her lip lightly in thought as the runway just outside of Norune came into the cockpit's view, the plane descending fast, but steadily. "Home sweet home.." she mumbled quietly, hoping she wouldn't regret this.

Demitrius pulled a face as he less flew the craft than bounced it from one knot of turbulence to the next. Norune was wide upon the windscreen now... "If this was Home, we'd be in range." He replied matter-of-factly, without pulling much an expression other than a sense of dissatisfaction. The Dessarian guns took a Dessari to dodge; partly because only a Dessari would know the blind-spots in the barrage of artillery fire, and partly because only a Dessari would dare try.

Reaching to the centre console, Demitrius reigned back the engines to a high idle and opened the flaps to full tilt, correcting the aircraft's angle as the nose lifted under breaking with a solid push on the controls. Gradually, the propellers slowed to a blur, the engines rumbling and spluttering, coughing smoke and flame as the carburettors threw more fuel in than the sparkplugs were burning now the superchargers were under a lesser load. Reaching for the intercom he pressed the button. "Hold on to your ass! if we don't crash you thank me later," He barked over the PA in his strong, drawling accent.

Before long, the runway filled the windows, and with a grunt of effort Demetrius hauled the nose into the air, before frowning. "Landing gear might help," He muttered, looking at Valerie. "Got about fifteen second before we land on our ass." he added with a grunt, lining the nose up with the landing markers.

"If ya put one scratch on this plane, it'll be your arse, ya idjit desert bastard!" Lep snarled, calling from the back in the radio room. The gunners kept their hands tight on their arms, really wishing the massive plane had more seats to strap into rather than just have them hold on to Lord knows what within the fuselage and hope they weren't knocked off their feet and get banged about like beans in a tin can.

Lep looked back at the gunners from his position, the radio operator making communication with the tower reading off headings from the instrument panel in front of him. He turned from the radio operator towards the men in the back, giving a sharp whistle.

"Alright, you lot! Hold onto the straps!"

The gunners nodded, leaving the guns idle as they gripped the straps above them, bracing their legs for landing. Lep did the same, the radioman simply buckling himself into his seat.

"No pressure or anything!" Val huffed as she already hurried her hovering fingers over the controls, sighing in relief as she found the correct switches. "Landing gear coming out." She let them all know over the intercom.
She turned her head back to the sides of the windshield, watching as the ground came nearer and nearer.
The landing gear clicked into their locked positions seconds before they touched upon the runway, letting the plane seemingly bounce lightly upon its heels like a swan Landing on water.

Val had only in the last week or so that she had joined the crew been taught basic co-piloting by the Dessarian. It was useful knowledge, and something he seemed to know a heck of a lot about..

Demetrius brought the aircraft gently down onto the hind landing gear, and brought the nose down gently onto the front wheel, before winding back the brakes and bringing the engines down to a slow idle. Like a small house gliding gracefully down a glacier, the Lancaster slowed to a crawl, popping and coughing from the short, glowing pipes. Leaning over to the intercom, Demetrius pressed the button. "Looks like you thank me later," He grunted, before taking off the brakes and guiding it into a parking bay, before killing the engines and pulling the brakes onto full lock to stop the craft dead.

Unbuckling himself, Demetrius stood up the best he could and clambered out into the hold with everyone else, brushing himself down. "Didn't scratch your flying house," He spat at Lep - although the Dessarian accent seemed to make every sentence a spat sentence; like chewing rocks. "What is plan?"

"Restock like we always do. Mac'll be watching the plane with the others. You, Me, and Val will be heading over to get what we need." He looked around some, the hangar busy with mechanics, sentries posted at every exit. "The sooner we get out of here, the better. I can already feel the price on me head rising..."

He slowly headed for the exit, stopping as he pulled out a few bank notes, setting them down at the register book, clearing his throat. "Alex Tanner. This bucket's mine. I'm taking two with me, bringing back supplies." As he stood there, he turned, waving the others over.

Watching the Captain, Demetrius soon clambered out of the aircraft and, pulling his mask over his face followed after Leper, muttering softly in Dessari as he checked his PPSh-41, ensuring the magazine was solidly locked in and that the chamber, for now, was clean and empty.
Allowing the gun to hang by his side again, Demetrius rubbed his hands together. "So, the usual merch?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, as he pulled a set of ear-plugs out of a pocket.

"We could do with engine parts too." He added after a moment. "Oil, belts, welding sticks," He held his hands parallel far apart. "Big superchargers...." He offered a devilish grin, lost behind his mask. "Nitrous oxide kits..."

Jynx huffed as she sat in the pilot's chair of the Mk.5 Exo-suit. The door held open by hydraulic actuators, her feet were rested upon the lip of the cockpit and her elbows against her knees, hunches over in boredom. Around her, crates filled with munitions stood, lay and stacked upon the ground; everything from .45apc to 115mm shells with prices marked in Caissic.
On it's right arm, the gattling gun was lifted slightly, putting the fire-power on show in an attempt to limit theft. The keys hung in their place on the roof, ready to be turned at any point, but for now the ten-cylinder diesel engine sat silent, the hydraulic system static and electrical system temporarily dead.

"The feck do we need Nitrous Oxide kits for? You KNOW what kind of damage that does on an engine!?" Lep snarled a bit, shaking his head. "Alright, fine, we'll drop off by the hangar shops to see if they've got any spare parts for sale, but THAT'S IT! Once we fly over Dessaria and back to Agria, we'll be home and I won't have to worry about refueling, refitting, and restocking. Just rest, relaxation, and drinking."

He looked over at the Dessari for a moment. "And no bar fights this time! I'm not made of money and ammunition to keep going over and busting out the poor bastards you decided to attack."

Stepping out behind Demetrius, Val looked to Leper and followed him over once they were called. As he explained what they'll be doing, she laughed lightly at how he spoke to the Dessari. "I think he behaves better when there's a woman around." she said with a smile to Demetrius.

"You don't think it would be a better idea to split up do you?" Valerie suggested, "I can handle buying the food stocks by myself. I checked the stocks before we left." Val added with a small bite of her lip and little guilt in her expression as she pulled out two small square lists from her pocket.
"I feel bad for saying, but I sort of didn't trust the head cook... He seemed to imply we were running extremely low on the booze." she said, handing the two pieces of paper to Leper, her one being quite obvious with rather italic and practiced flowing handwriting.
Valerie's one was the true stockage, and it was clear there was quite some emphasis on a couple of items of the cook's list.

"Nitrous is perfectly safe if calibrated!" Demetrius barked in response, "Is not my fault your wrench-monkies not know how to install dry-nitrous system!" he gave a grunt. "Beside, your flying house needs steroids." He added on the side.
"Okay," He added, as the Captain mentioned bar-fights, "I'll make sure not to leave bastards to bust out this time." He added, a faint grin curling upon his lips.

After a pause, the Dessarian turned an eye towards Valerie. "We never have enough booze; is like money; to say we have enough is only temporary position." He paused to allow his mind to collect a few more words, "Imagine you in plane, flying high above ground," He said, holding a hand aloft as an analogue for the aircraft, "Captain look at fuel and say, 'Oh, we have enough!'. But what is better scenario; enough to get you to landing, or more than you need so you guarantee safe passage?"

"I guess, but surely likening it to fuel is a bit biased.." She smiled knowingly at the Desari. Men were such drinking machines... "It's up to you Leper." Val said, turning her gaze back to him. "I just thought I should bring it to your attention, should the money be better spent on more important amenities." She shrugged lightly. Sure, the budgeting wasn't really any of her business, and if Leper wanted to have a shout at her for it, he was welcome to. Valerie was only thinking of the best for the crew... "Either way, decide quick. We should get going; time's ticking." She smiled.