Robotech - The Invid War - IC

It is the start of another day in the life of the 4th Heavy Assault Division, and the Garfish Class Troopship Arwyn is getting ready to exit from Fold Space. With the Fleet still out in deep space, there is little chance of a random encounter, but a soldier doesn't get to grow old by being careless, so everyone is getting called to action stations, just in case. This time, however, the sky around you is clear of any threats, so the alert is called off and crews are able to relax and go about their business.

Now that you are in normal space, the Arwyn is slowly maneuvering up along side the Three Star Fabrication Ship, the Pegasus. After this long on the move, it is time for the Arwyn to resupply and transfer some members of the crew in and out, including members of the ship's air wing. You know that your current squadron commander, Lt. Dianne Mellon, is getting shipped (literally!) out to spend some time in the relatively cushy quarters of the Command Cruiser New Jersey, along with several members of the squadron. John Rico, Charlise O'Brien, and Jandra are all staying on the Arwyn to welcome in the new members of the team.

Before leaving the ship, Dianne is currently sharing a beer with the team that she's worked with over the past several light years and is saying goodbye to the trio that are being left behind. She raises up her drink and gives a toast to the trio, "Well, it was good working with you, and I'll sure miss the three of you guys on the New Jersey. Perhaps we'll all get to work together again. Until then, clear skies, my friends!"

Sherwood Sherwood , Silanon Silanon and D. Rex D. Rex


On board the Pegasus, crews are busy, hard at work getting ready to transfer both men and material over to the much smaller Garfish currently pulling up to its starboard side docking collar. Mike McGregor is there, orders in hand, ready to transit over to the smaller ship to take command of a squadron of Alphas and Betas. Waiting along side Mike to go to see your new digs are two of your squad: Meltyris, a Zentraedi warrior that has proved himself trustworthy enough to be allowed access to the powerful Beta fighter, and a young lieutenant named Milo Hatch, an Alpha pilot and communications officer.

With the docking procedure complete, the hangar bay doors open wide to let the waiting supply pallets get moved into the Arwyn's hold, while the personnel make their way across a smaller airlock bridge so they won't be getting in the way of the cargo haulers as they bring enough provisions to last all five hundred souls on board some time.

Rykon Rykon and Orikanyo Orikanyo
 
"Oooh lala~ What a charmingly ugly ship... With an uncharming name... Garfish, I did some research on earth fish and have come up with nothing for such a silly name. Arwyn is such a nice name for a ship so unfortunately classed no? Though.. it does look like a fish... With guns and a odd shaped head.." With a quick flip of his fluffy hair the man all but began talking ill of the features of the ship he would be on soon.

"Ah, but upon it lay our soon to be fellows! I only hope they prove themselves worthy of our time and efforts! Though I do expect they shall, the bar is rather low. My last partner in the ever so forced Alpha Beta combination was an absolute boorish cur, insufferable, a malignant blight and a down right fool.

Nice fellow really, loved him, and I shall miss him dearly." the zentraedi male continued his steps forwards, he was well regarded as... Strange.. by most standards of zentraedi and Human. A long time ago he was but one of the many simplistic drones that barely rose above the masses of the male zentraedi. All military, all gun, but no pomp!!

Thus, after a brief encounter with a thing called "The internet" he started a metamorphosis... He began his journey not to become the greatest pilot ever...

But the most handsome one!

For that, he had to practice the part, for such a role couldn't be played by such a stoic bland fellow! nonono!!

He needed CLASS!

SASS!

And ass!

Though the last part came naturally, the rest were.. hard to make... Alot of embaressment occured, but breaking the time honored tradition of "Being a stubborn mule" came quickly.

He quickly gained a following for his frequent, and numerous, pictures on social media... becoming a form of celebrity, if for any other reason than he was handsome, at times funny, and generally just almost addicting to watch. Charisma can do that.

"Milo was it? Come closer I want a picture." a tablet seemingly appeared out of nowhere in the male's hands, a mischevious smile one would never think a zentraedi could make appeared.

Rykon Rykon Psychie Psychie
 
Mike tried to ignore much of Meltyris and Milo's digital adventure to stardom. So long as their stops were never long enough for them to lag behind he avoided the typical chastisement of "Pack it up you two." The mantle of leadership still hadn't quite settled on him. He could holler and cuss with the best of the drill sergeants, yet such abuse he found held more sting when reserved. "We got three newcomers and not a lot of time to play. Your fans will have to get their fix when time permits."

Unlike his celebrity comrade, Mike didn't see much worth commenting on the Arwyn. It wasn't as awe-inspiring as the Pegasus, to be sure, but each had very different purposes. Time would tell whether or not he'd enjoy his stay in his new station. Regardless, he was a Marine. To him, ships were barracks and bathrooms. Work... Duty... Life was found in the world beyond the fuselage.

It wasn't long before their shuttle finished it's short, slow transit across the starry sea that separated the two UEEF vessels. Yet, he disembarked with anxious purpose, already eager for his next assignment. "Alright, I'm supposed to have three new pilots around here somewhere." Upon retrieving his belongings he looked to the nearest staffer of the Arwyn and simply made his inquiry directly. "I've been assigned new soldiers to my squadron. Rico, O'Brien, and Jandra. Got any directions to help a disoriented jarhead friend?"
 
John stands at the observation window as the Arwyn slowly pulls into position along side the Pegasus and begin docking. He turns away and looks over at their old squad leader, Dianne and returns her toast. "To good friends!" He tosses back his drink, and offers up a playful salute to the other officer. "Whatever team you get on the New Jersey will be lucky to have you. Just keep an eye on your six, you get me? I don't want to hear that you bought a plot on some alien world."
 
"Milo was it? Come closer I want a picture." a tablet seemingly appeared out of nowhere in the male's hands, a mischevious smile one would never think a zentraedi could make appeared.
Milo nods. "Yes, indeed! Milo Hatch at your service. Good to meet you." He offers up his hand to Meltyris, then stands close to allow you to take the requested picture. He then looks at Meltyris and asks, "You are a Beta driver, right? I wonder if we'll be a paired flight element? I also wonder what kind of people we'll have for the rest of our squad?" He reaches down and picks up his duffel bag and tosses it over his shoulder, hoofing along after Mike.
It wasn't long before their shuttle finished it's short, slow transit across the starry sea that separated the two UEEF vessels. Yet, he disembarked with anxious purpose, already eager for his next assignment. "Alright, I'm supposed to have three new pilots around here somewhere." Upon retrieving his belongings he looked to the nearest staffer of the Arwyn and simply made his inquiry directly. "I've been assigned new soldiers to my squadron. Rico, O'Brien, and Jandra. Got any directions to help a disoriented jarhead friend?"
As you head along into the ship, there are six guards in armor checking Id's and answering questions, directing new crew members in the right direction. The woman in front of Mike as you ask your question is a fresh-faced Corporal with a friendly smile and the name Koontz on her chest. "Welcome aboard the Arwyn, sir. The first person you'll want to see is the ship's Chief of the Boat, Chief Moira Ellis. She can be found on the Command Deck, up one level." As she talks, she takes your Id card and examines it carefully, then does the same for Meltyris and Milo, using the computer to verify your hand prints. "Sirs, the guards on the Command Deck will want to see your Id's, so you may want to keep them out. Chief Ellis will have your bunk assignments waiting for you, then you can go see the CAG, Commander Douglas Franz. He will have your squadron info you." Corporal Koontz hands each of you your Id's back, and points over to a nearby bank of elevators.
 
"Many thanks Corporal. We'll be on our way." Mike dismisses the guard with a snappy salute and steps forward to the elevator and waits for those in his unit to catch up. Once they reach the command deck with his identification credentials still loose and handy he looks for signage or directions to where he was supposed to go. Upon each of the personnel he encountered he looked for the tag Ellis or the chief's insignia anywhere about her person.

"Chief. First Lieutenant McGregor reporting in. I was told at the landing you were the one to get us situated. Other than our papers, anything you need from us?" He said in a friendly tone despite the formalities of it all. He may technically outrank NCOs, but these people knew the ship and it's nuances better than he. The more people he left a pleasant impression with, the better by his reckoning.
 
Clear skies. For some, a dream come true. For others a curse, stripping them off their entire purpose. But that's how humans are, even one of the best commanders she's had; they're exactly where they belong, and yet dream of something else. "A clear six, and always enough missiles to take care of the rest." Not the worst toast one can come up with, Jandra hopes. Not really the one for emotional speeches. John's better at that, as far as she can tell. A sip from her beer, the second one - easier to drink than to find the right words. "Will be a change to not have you aboard, Lt. Don't get rusty with all that comfort on the New Jersey. Gotta be on point when we meet again." Another sip, the bottle's half-empty by now. "Know anything about your replacement?"
 
It was sad to see her go, along with everyone else. It's never a nice thing when squads split up. But it was nice that they had the chance to say their farewells. At the toast, even Charlie raised her glass with the others in honor of those leaving.

The bespectacled woman wasnt really one to speak all boisterous. Wouldnt dream of it. But, for the sake of Dianne, she would at least raise her voice enough to be heard over the ruckus of the bar. "We are really going to miss you, Lieutenant! Please be safe out there, all of you. And dont you forget us!" She ended on a weaker, lame, note, but still giving what effort she could.

She had gotten to know them all so well over their time together. Splitting up like this, it really did feel like family members moving away. If Charlie was a lesser gal, she would cry. Well... she WAS a lesser gal, she still wasnt going to cry. She was a marine, after all.


"Yes." She chimed quickly after Jandra's final statement. "And who else is coming. Any tales of exploits behind them?" She asked.
 
"Ahh, someone always ruins the fun." Though Milo was on board, his picture had his ever so beloved smirk and wink... And included their spoilsport down the hall.

The scanning, ids, what not, all procedure he'd rather hurry along. Not like anybody could pretend to be HIM after all, he was a genuine article! Worked hard to be after all! Though Ms Koontz was a sight for sore eyes. Though, culturally, he smirked at that thought, any female was a sight. Zentraedi culture... How silly... He was almost brought to laugh.

He was basicly human... He was their size, he barely had any differences from a normal one. Save for the fact... He'd naturally would be towering over them.

Though he never had experienced that height... it'd probably be rather unpleasant.

Plus how would he fly his beloved Francisca by being so big?

...Ah... Didn't Milo say something about the alpha beta thing?

"My my Mklo, certainly hurrying along aren't we? At least buy a poor man dinner first before proposing such things. My poor Francisca's port can only be taken by those with pure hearts don't you know?" The mischevious look was back, being coy... Long enough to burst into a laugh. "Hahaha, how silly. Should there be need for a combination, perhaps, but know I do not plan to be somebody's portable booster pack.

My girl's wrath is cataclysmic, and most effective."

Rykon Rykon Psychie Psychie
 
"Many thanks Corporal. We'll be on our way." Mike dismisses the guard with a snappy salute and steps forward to the elevator and waits for those in his unit to catch up. Once they reach the command deck with his identification credentials still loose and handy he looks for signage or directions to where he was supposed to go. Upon each of the personnel he encountered he looked for the tag Ellis or the chief's insignia anywhere about her person.

"Chief. First Lieutenant McGregor reporting in. I was told at the landing you were the one to get us situated. Other than our papers, anything you need from us?" He said in a friendly tone despite the formalities of it all. He may technically outrank NCOs, but these people knew the ship and it's nuances better than he. The more people he left a pleasant impression with, the better by his reckoning.
When Mike finds the COB, she is a middle-aged woman with dark hair and slim figure, set off by the sight of her packing a laser pistol on her side. She is currently set up in a conference room with a half dozen aides, all working to process the paperwork of about four dozen transfers onto the ship. The Chief turns to the three of you and gives a polite smile. "Welcome aboard, sirs! I am Chief of the Boat Moira Ellis, otherwise known as the COB, or just Chief Ellis. Call me Corn COB and you'll find my revenge is a horrible thing to behold. Anyhoo, it is my job to keep everything on the Arwyn running smooth for Capt. Blaine. If you need anything, I am the problem solver of the ship. And speaking of Capt. Blaine, he makes a point of addressing all the transfers on the ship. Go ahead and hand me your data tablets with your orders, have a seat, and relax until the Captain comes in. Once he's done addressing the crew, I'll have your room assignments ready to pick up."

Once you turn over your tablets, she turns away to help the next person coming in.

Five minutes later, the room is pretty well packed, mostly with enlisted but there are a few officers scattered about, and the room is a low buzz with the multiple quiet conversations being held. Then from the back of the room, you hear a booming voice call out, "Atten-shun!" All talk comes to a sudden halt as everyone leaps to their feet as the ship's CO comes walking in. Capt. Blaine is a bald man that is built like a tank; no signs of fat on his hard frame, unlike many Navy officers that go soft over the years.

He walks quickly to the front of the room. "Take your seats." He waits patiently as everyone sits back down and turns their attention to the man at the front of the room. As you sit, several other men and women join the Captain at the front, including Chief Ellis. In a smooth, soft voice (probably the only thing soft about the Captain), he says, "I am Captain Rodrick Blaine, the CO of the Arwyn. I am pleased to welcome you all aboard, and I look forward to getting to know you all over the upcoming days together. Now, let me introduce my command staff. This is Commander Eva Wilson, our XO and head of Flight Operations. Next to her is Lt. Commander Miles O'Brien, in charge of all our ground forces and the Head of Security. You've all already met the COB, Chief Moira Ellis."

Now done with his introductions, the Captain says, "I like to keep an open door policy, so if there is ever a need for you to speak with me, I'll make time to talk. But please make use of your chain of command. You'll find that there are few problems that can't be solved by Chief Ellis and the rest of the officers up here, so don't be afraid to turn to them." He goes on for another minute, giving the general platitudes that you have all heard from other commanding officers many times by now. He wraps up his speech with a curt nod, then releases the room to get your room and bunk assignments.

As the three pilots are getting your tablets back, Cmdr. Wilson walks up. "Hey there. You guys are my three new pilots, I see. Lt. McGregor, once you are settled in and have a chance to meet the other members of your squad, come see me and I'll help walk you through what you'll need to do as the squadron leader. I'm here to make sure you have all the tools you need to succeed, so don't hesitate to ask when you have questions."


In the mess hall, your old squad leader glances at her watch with a shake of her head. "No clue about the new blood you guys are getting over here. I gotta get a hustle on if I'm going to catch the shuttle over to the New Jersey. At a guess, you'll be seeing them soon; I saw the XO heading to the Command Deck to be a part of Capt. Blaine's welcome speech, and we all know how much that man hates public speaking." She finishes up her beer, then gives everyone a hug. "Best of luck to you guys, and if we're lucky, we'll meet again!"
 
"Shame, would have liked to know whom we are looking for. All the best, Lt. - dogfights, explosions, the thing you call hell. No luck needed, we are all good enough." Once she escapes the unexpected hug, she raises her bottle one last time in the Lt's direction, then empties it with a final gulp. "Show them what a skilled pilot actually looks like." A short pause as she neatly arranges empty bottles like pins on a bowling alley; you can't just have them spread all over the table, can you? Then, when the others have made their farewells, she eyes those who'll stay with her, for now. "Think we can intercept the newcomers when the Captain is done? Might spare them the search." Also makes a better impression than three pilots with a few too many empty bottles, but there's no need to say that. Plus, the sooner they know what to expect, the sooner things can be arranged. Like, fat asses might be decent punch bags, but that's not too popular amongst most superiors. Or, more importantly: Someone's gotta team up with her, or it'll take ages to get her Alpha in range of her foes. Better to know that person asap.
 
"Happy to be here Chief Ellis." Mike replied with a smile and a firm handshake shortly before having to snap to attention. "Captain on deck!"

The leadership of the Arwyn seemed more than amicable enough for his liking. So long as the new members of his unit had good humor and good sense about themselves this was shaping up to be a pleasant tour.

"Sir! Yes sir!" The marine snapped with a salute after the Captain finished his speech. He committed the names to memory as best he could and turned to his first two pilots that had joined him thus far. "Meltyris and Milo, you're dismissed to tend to your belongings and equipment. I'll see if we can arrange something with the other three pilots once we've gotten our bearings."
 
John returns Dianne's hug and watches her as she leaves to get to the shuttle to her next appointment. She will be missed. Even for a Navy pilot, she was pretty good at what she did. I wonder who our new top kick will be? He then says, "If I were a betting man, which I am, I'd say that these new team members are going to be taking the empty berths of our outgoing pilots. Anyone care to join me and go look?"
 
"Sounds like a decent guess, I'd say - would not make sense to make any changes." It takes a few steps before Jandra stops, mustering the fellow pilot with suspicion. "No stakes, no nothing? Just a proposal, that's it? They swapped you out and brought your clone in, didn't they?" Not that she'd take the odds against him, she likes her money , thanks - but you know, uncertainty is usually when you'd want to place your bets, right? Or maybe not - that'd explain why the few wagers she couldn't avoid mostly didn't go in her favor.
 
Charlie pushed up her glasses. "W-well I guess we would have to do so eventually..." she stated. Nervous to meet the new squad leader and mates. But it's not like she could avoid them for long.

"Do you think they are going to be one of those hard butt (pardon her language) types? Or if they dont like us and shove us to the side?" She inquired. This is a pretty big change, after all.

Despite her apparent apprehension, she would indeed follow behind John and Jandra. A few steps behind, as the two were definitely much more ideal of a choice to make a first impression.
 
Melt seemingly didn't quite hear his Squad lead's words. He was more entranced by the white haired beauty of a commander! As his human friend might say, what a fox!

"Of course!" His smile was all but blinding, he... Really was trying to make a good impression, show the best side. But, hmm... A sneeze comjng on... Perhaps the new squad was talking about them? Is that how that human superstition goes? How fun! Maybe he can catch them in something.

Stepping away, he began to look at his tablet. He opened his blog and began typing away.

"First day on the Arwyn~! The little fishy vessel has such a nice name. Perhaps we should call her a big fish?" He will admit the blog really helped him figure out the best way to talk, anybody could comment, and.. well.. the internet was always quick to judge. But it was a battle in of itself, so his natural stubbornness kicked in... He had a nice face, good body, his charisma beyond that took work, thus he kept at it. Talking, posting, he hit alot of walls but breaking the conceptions of zentraedi was difficult.

He could come across pompous, but most the time folks were friendly.

Though... He was good with humans... His own people... Less so...

Espeacially the females...

Given it was easy to notice his name meant "Feminine grace" which... Sadly his parents didn't quite think through thinking they were turning the child's features into strength. ...Sadly he got bullied for being a "girlie boy."

...At least when he didn't get secret love letters from admirer's in his locker.

Though, he does like his name though, it made a good ice breaker as most get suprised by his maleness. Makes a good laugh.

...At least from everyone who wasn't zentraedi... Humorless kin of his...

Now... Time to go to his quarters and see if he can wiggle out some free time to make his hair look good- Huh... That group... Looked like they were looking for someone.

Hmm... A human male with... Impressive hair. How did he get it like that? Doesn't it get in the way? He also lacked a shirt, with abs like those, he saw little reason to.

A meltrandi... Best he hide his attention... She was interesting looking... Kinda had this sternness about her...

And behind them... Ooh... A mousey looking beauty. Her glasses framed her face perfectly, a rather cute nose!

...But... the female... Best be avoid this group...

The curious male zentraedi tried his best to not look curious of the group of three, looking somewhat like a very friendly sociable dog being held back by it's owner. For all his ability to make friendships... He avoided people like a magnet avoids metal...

...He could at least wave abit right? Wouldn't hurt!

Sherwood Sherwood Silanon Silanon D. Rex D. Rex
 
As they departed from the command center, the first lieutenant took notice of the three pilot officers heading their way. He greeted them with a warm smile. "Well hey there friends. Y'all don't look nearly as lost as we do. You been aboard the Arwyn for awhile?"

A rather capable-looking marine, a stunning Meltrandi, and a cute shy one. I was always a sucker for the quiet types. Kind of conspicuous how quiet Melty's being about it though. Ah well. My job to make friends after all.

"Oh, right. I'm First Lieutenant Michael McGregor, but Mike's fine enough. This here's Milo and Meltyris." He said casually, introducing his squad mates.
 
John nodded at the question from the other fellow. "Yes, sir. I'm John Rico, Second Lieutenant and Marine Corps Alpha pilot by trade. Good to have you with us. Been on the Arwyn for a while, enough to get a good feel for the ship. Where are my manners? Here. These ladies are fellow pilots and members of the squad. Charlise O'Brien and Jandra. We're looking for three new pilots that will be rounding out our team, and I'm betting that its you three."
 
"That it is, Marine. Glad to see fellow members of the Corps in this unit, though I've no doubt our Navy friends here can fly with the best of us." His smile was oddly able to grow yet more welcoming as he offered each of his new pilots a firm handshake. "Truthfully, I didn't really delve into the files I was given. I only skimmed to make sure there weren't any special cases I had obligations to address and left it at that. I was rather hoping you three could catch us up to speed on life here in the Arwyn, what sort of missions you've tackled, preferred formation. You know, basic team dynamics and the like."

Mike scanned the deck they were currently on and thought better than to linger longer than necessary. "That is, assuming you all don't have other orders for the moment, we can grab food, drinks, cards, whatever, and shoot the breeze while we can. If we loiter too long here, I worry what kind of attitude I might catch from Melty here if he doesn't reach his glamor shot quota." Michael teased. "Or worse yet, from his fans."
 
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Well, seems like that's one point for good ol' John - found the new squad leader at the first go. Jandra salutes, a clearly well-practised gesture; shows the kind of precision of someone who spends time in front of the mirror, saluting herself. That's about as much formality as she risks right now, though, McGregor does not strike her as someone who asks for more. Alright, a handshake - her grip is as firm as his, maybe a little stronger - the grip you need to stop someone from falling off a cliff, not to welcome them on their new assignment. As Jandra lets his hand go, she eyes the new leader: At least not a fat ass, and one who might be to Charlie's liking.

"Jandra, at your service. Familiar with the Alpha, decent ground fighter. No orders for now, only saw our old squad leader off. She did a good job, we worked well as a team."

No need to hide that things went well - and that expectations are high, as a result. He'll notice it anyway, working with them, might as well say it out loud.

"Just had a drink, the table should still be empty - good place to sit and have a few words. Decent view as well."

She eyes the other two new arrivals closely; Milo seems average enough, the kind of pilot who always makes a decent job. The zentraedi, on the other hand... oh boy... better to not speak the words in her mind, they might be stuck in the same team for a while. And the name - don't laugh, don't even smile. Alright, maybe a little, just enough to let him know she listened. But not more than that - war is a serious thing, their mutual purpose, and he somehow made it here. With his fans? There's no air draft, nothing that'd need cooling, apart from that tablet. She'll ask someone for the exact meaning of that, in a quiet moment. Charlie, maybe. Word might have another meaning. And what is a glamor shot?

She gives both fellow pilots a short nod, not quite sure what to add. Warn them about John's familiarity with pretty much every single card game out there? That'd feel like treason. Why did McGregor even mention cards - call signs, or a lucky guess? Call signs would be bad. Or good, depends.

"Hope you all don't mind the assignment - the ship is not quite the New Jersey, I'm afraid."

Interpret that however you want - for her, that mostly means fewer guns on board.
 
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Meltyris

...He wanted to Kill Mike right here right now. Then stuff his body with an explosive and jettison out to space to detonate...

Not only did he signal him out, he called him his most disliked nickname... Unless from the lips of a lover of course...

"...Mikey~! You do me a diservice! Yes, I am Meltyris, the one of very few gentleman of the zentraedi who give a rat's ass about looking good.

I know it gives no tactical aid, but don't people just love me." This was accentuated by a hand running across his fluffy hair. "A model in free time. Singer in spare. And a explosive beta pilot by trade. I do so hope the alpha pilots here don't start thinking of my dear baby as a portable booster pack." His demeanor tried to shade his great disappointment...

The female... He knew that clutched smile anywhere... You see it once you've seen it a thousand times.. Laugh all you like Meltrandi, laugh until the day ends, cause then you will see what star shines brightest here!
 
"I didn't realize not giving them your resume was a disservice. You seem more than capable of picking up the slack for me though. So you have my appreciation for that." Michael takes the suggestion from the Meltrandi and begins heading toward the tables where the squad can take a seat. "Certainly I wouldn't insult our new pilots by implying blindness to your success in such things. It is rather plain to see after all."

"As for the assignment, I prefer the less bustling environment. Easier for a lighter vessel to make evasive action and all that. As long as the living quarters are reasonably accommodating I have no cause to complain. How about you three? Has your time aboard this ship been agreeable? Are there any amenities you lack that I can address? Heaters, towels, furnishings, whatever?" Mike asked seriously, wanting to make sure he didn't neglect his administrative responsibility. Furthermore, their responses might enlighten the newcomers on what they can expect in their new environment.
 
The zentraedi's more elaborate words - they demand another, subtle reaction. Somewhere between 'looking good' and 'people just love me', Jandra raises a single brow, quietly trying to not give up on the man just yet; it becomes increasingly hard, however, the longer he goes on. Even worse; a Beta pilot, and thus the chance to be grouped up with him. Perhaps the usual way to assign squad members, given the usually common culture - for now, he seems more human-like than most humans, with less focus on the task than most drunkyards she's seen. Oh well, perhaps he will surprise her; that's practically all she can hope for, for now.

She follows the man in charge to the table, takes a seat with her back against the wall - then she shrugs as response to Mike's question. "Not much I'd complain about. Nothing's missing that I couldn't get along without. Two sparring partners left today, and some of the newer pilots seem to lack focus, at times." She eyes a certain new arrival, the one with the fancy hair - you know there's different kinds of beauty, the natural one that she herself shows, based on genes and confidence alone, and the other one that wastes precious time and gets you literally nowhere... "Nothing that wouldn't change after a while." Hopefully.

A pause, a look at the other two who stayed with her. Charlise's concerns come to mind, of course. "There was a door that was usually open; when it was needed, at least. Or when we knew our stuff, and others didn't. Think it has your new room number on it - so if you can keep it that way, that'd be appreciated."
 
Charlise saluted the Lieutenant. "Second Lieutenant Charlise O'Brien, sir." She said, promptly, if not a bit stiffly. "B-beta pilot, Marine recon. And dedicated science officer..." her voice shrank, suddenly self conciousness that she was perhaps being a little too proper given the other.


"B-ut y-you can call m-me Ch-Charlie. Sir, but you dont have to if you dont want to, sir..." she said with an odd mesh of hesitance and quickness.

She then shut her and sealed her lips. To refrain from sounding even lesser than she already did. The last thing she wanted was not put up a bad impression. And looking weak was a bad impression.

The man seemed to be very chill. So that was a good sign at least. And Jandra didnt seem to be minding him very much. Which was also a good sign. She always seemed to have a good judge of leadership potential after all, and she seemed to be testing the waters.

The Zentraedi on the other hand... he certainly seemed a.... character. She could honestly say she had never seen any zeek act like that ever. But he did have really pretty hair. "Dont you have to worry about security issues transmitting from a military zone?" She asked without even thinking. But her face went red and immediately regretted the failure of her own censor. "Not that I would know..."

She shut her trap again and cast her gaze onto a lovely chair on the other side of the room.
 

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