2023-02-05: Negotiation

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<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.

One of the larger meeting rooms on the Ra Mari II will serve as this particular conference's locale. There are no railings and balconies here; the chamber is tall, dominated by a large table at which there are many chairs. The table is white; the chairs are servicable, but not especially fancy. The cavernous roof was clearly designed originally for a macronized space; the walls if one looks are prefabricated, added later as part of the refit, with pillars that help to support the still-high ceiling.

Even like this, it is a big room.

Space is visible outside; this room occupies a premium locale, with a viewport that shows stars, debris, colonies... all the things one can expect during the Universal Century out in space, taking up most of the outer wall.

Eight York is dressed in red and white. The Captain of the Ra Mari II does not yet have her new uniform, but has a long, red dress, and a white jacket that makes it more formal. Sturdy boots for her shoes, her hair down, it is mostly her serious expression and presence that marks her as an officer. It is the deference the others give her that marks her as Captain.

To her right is a figure with green hair and an androgynous look: Enba Rezza, the Executive Officer of the Ra Mari II. Their expression is serious, sharp, and their dark eyes are focused. Whatever Eight misses, they will catch. They are dressed in a black suit with a dark tie.

To Eight's left is a larger man, a Zentradi by the name of Lavnadim Orlodhari. If his feeling is to be protective of his Captain, he does not show it by pushing ahead of her. Instead, dressed in deep yellows and browns, he keeps his stoic expression and folds his hands on the table, regarding their 'guests' carefully.

There are many others present. 

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

A shower and a change did much to refresh her, but did little to uplift her mood. His presence on the ship only kept her focus on his words...

I was born of the psychoframe, torn apart and put back together piece by piece, hollowed out and emptied to become a vessel of the people.

...a person, but also living evidence of more atrocities committed for a coopted cause.

"You can always duck out." Leina tells him quietly, now dressed in jeans, a pink jumper, a shooting star barrette in her hair. "You're exhausted, Banagher. Everyone will understand. And those that don't, will have to answer to me."

That seems less a threat, and more a certainty the way she says it. She doesn't argue when he forces the issue though, and she doesn't come to the meeting any more formal than that.

She pulls out a chair for him, then stays standing for a moment, eyes sweeping around the table, before sitting beside him.

Perhaps Full Frontal will feel her eyes upon him, whenever he arrives... tense, and wary about whatever he and his people might decide to do here. Still, she sits in silence, waiting for this to begin. 

<Pose Tracker> Full Frontal has posed.

Full Frontal sat, relaxed, on one of the meeting room's couches. Strange, being on an alien vessel. Only a century or two prior, humanity would have been aghast at encountering extraterrestrial life, yet here he sat on a ship sized for both humans and Zentradi, walking titans of muscle and bone. He briefly scanned the room. So much hate, so much hostility, and he didn't even need to use his Newtype abilities to see it. One might even say that contrary to popular belief, the new age of sailors and pilots seemed to hate dancing.

Roux Louka, Captain York, Leina Ashta and the boy...Banagher Links. All present, all emanating such aggression, all so blinded by their emotions. Such a shame that they were all so wound up, ready to spring...otherwise here was an entire crop of potential puppets and tools, ripe for the harvest. A few whispers here, a pointed remark there, a direct challenge over yonder. So many opportunities, so many outcomes.

"You can always duck out." Leina Ashta says to Banagher.

Well, we can't have that happening.

"Ah but my dear boy, I must insist you stay. It's been far too long since we were all reunited here. Myself, you, and even our loyal Captain Zinnerman. A pity about your ship, though I daresay you'll be happier with a new vessel, Captain. One that can actually withstand combat with some weapons of its own. Using your own mobile suits as turrets? Truly, a waste of their abilities." Standing up from the couch, Full Frontal walked over to Banagher, seeing the exhaustion on his face, feeling his battered and haunted spirit. Putting a hand on the pilot's shoulder, Full Frontal gave him one of his most practiced smiles, coolly friendly but also a slight smirk. "You've been through quite the wringer, my dear boy. Tell me, has your pursuit of Laplace's Box been worth it? I must say one small thing, however."

Full Frontal took his mask off, ice blue eyes boring down into Banagher's withered brown. Addressing the room in his stateman's voice, but still honed to a razer sharp, quiet murmur for all to hear, the Ghost of Char spoke.

"Tell me, Banagher, my dear, foolish boy. How does it feel to finally join the ranks of us hypocritical adults? How does it feel to take a life and trample on it in pursuit of your own ideals?" Like a red comet, Full Frontal stepped back towards Banagher and whispered in his ear.

How does it feel to have extinguished Wira's possibilities, forever? 

<Pose Tracker> Suberoa Zinnerman has posed.

Once the Garencieres was properly docked to the Ra Mari II, its crew (miraculously having avoided serious injury, though Tomura is nursing some bruising from being thrown about the cargo hangar during the fight) were a somewhat gloomy procession, personal effects brought through the airlock as the salvageable Geara Zulus on the freighter were loaded into the Zentradi Monitor's spacious hangar. The mood among the guerilla crew is low; the diagnosis of the freighter that's been their home for years is that it would take months in drydock to get her spaceworthy again, and that she cannot make the trip to a friendly shore alone. With putting the Three Ships Alliance at risk by asking them to run escort for her out of the question, Zinnerman made his final order as her captain:

The Garencieres is to be scuttled, once his crew have salvaged everything they can use from her.

That said, he is not allowing the low mood among his people to affect this meeting; while the rest of the crew see to the stripping and salvaging of the freighter's systems, he arrives at the meeting room, along with his second-in-command Flaste Schole and a young woman unmistakable to the Ra Mari's crew - if only because, apart from the length and the slightly paler hue of her red hair, she's a dead ringer for one of their aces. Unlike her captain and first officer, who wear olive-green generic 'civilian pilot' jumpsuits, Marida Cruz is wearing her Sleeves House Guard dress uniform, identifiable as such because its purple jacket and gold trim are an exact match for Angelo Sauper's across the table from her.

"Apologies for the delay," he begins - only to be interrupted by Full Frontal moving to action, as though he had waited precisely until the Garencieres Team's representatives were present to make his play... whatever the play is. Cut off, he can only furrow his brow and watch as the Red Comet Reborn needles Banagher in a brutally direct fashion. 

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

Golden eyes still somewhat dazed, Banagher makes his way to the meeting room hand-in-hand with Leina. His hair is damp, and he's changed into fresh clothes. A fluffy hoodie is wrapped around his shoulders, providing a necessary point of grounding and reassurance.

"I'm okay." Banagher reassures Leina. "I won't let Captain York deal with Full Frontal and his creepy sycophant on her own. Just because he saved us... I don't trust him."

Hoping to reassure her, he leans in, kissing Leina on the cheek. They sit together, and Banagher continues to hold tight to her hand. Their bond keeps him steady. Love and reassurance wrap around him, gentle and warm as sunlight.

Full Frontal addresses Banagher, and the young pilot is immediately on edge. Turning to face the Ghost of Char, his face is twisted in anger, some of the dazed light vanishing from his eyes.

A hand falls on Banagher's shoulders. He lets it stay there, though his hand tightens on Leina's in distress. Has it been worth it..?

"I--" Banagher starts, meeting Full Frontal's icy-blue gaze.

No words come to his lips. Banagher closes his mouth, trembling. Still haunted by the vestiges of his Miracle, by Wira's hand that so gently touched his own. Banagher lets go of Leina's hand.

"How dare you--!" Banagher yells, standing so abruptly his chair goes tumbling to the ground. "You don't have the right to even speak his name! You have no idea -- what he went through! How much he suffered! W--what he gave to me..!"

Unable to control himself a moment longer, Banagher flies in a rage at the Ghost before him, raising his fist to strike the man in his annoyingly-perfect jaw. 

<Pose Tracker> Ujico Issa has posed.

        It was touchy enough, being on the Garancieres - she was basically borrowing Banagher's good reputation with Captain Zinnerman and the rest of the crew. She was unfailingly polite and made a peace offering of bunny apples to foster goodwill among the humans. But...

        She really, really hadn't planned on ending up on a ship that until recently had been part of the Federation. She slouches a little bit in her seat, holding very still. She still hasn't removed her cat-eared helmet, or her black and cherry-red pilot suit.

        If Ujico Issa doesn't move, nobody can see her...!

        Maybe especially the creepy-looking guy in red. It's not until he actually approaches Banagher that she sits up straight in her seat. Her face is hidden, but her attention is focused. "..."

        Her fingers curl into loose fists where they rest on her knees.

        Cruel. Cruel. [Bully.] She wants to [bite]--

        Ujico breathes out slowly. She wants to remain unnoticed. Thoughts like that don't help. Banagher doesn't need help. 

<Pose Tracker> Ruri Hoshino has posed.

        Nearby Lucine, perhaps, there is a communication window hovering. The Nadesico's bridge decided that they should keep an eye on proceedings, and Ruri volunteered to face up, given her connection with Eight. And so: on that floating -- holographic? -- display, there's an image of a young girl, perhaps thirteen years old. Her eyes are a fey and pale gold; her skin, too, is pale, and so is her twin-tailed hair, with just the lightest hint of blue to its white.

        She is wearing a Nergal uniform, judging from what's shown on the head-and-shoulders of her display.

        "I see," the voice of that girl -- Ruri Hoshino, systems operator -- says, from that window. Much like her flat expression, her voice is a largely toneless thing. That window, too, tilts towards Full Frontal. "You're someone who compliments people so you can hurt them better. That's pretty sad, Mr. Frontal."

        Stoic, she asks: "Did you just come here to bully a child?" 

<Pose Tracker> Anita Rosetta has posed.

The battle has ended, but the tension has yet to abate. The Ra Mari II is playing host to some 'Special Guests' from the Sleeves. ...There wasn't really a choice in the matter - not with everyone's safety at risk. A meeting has been called, and Anita has elected to be present in order to support Eight.

It says a lot to those that know her that, rather than going with her usual casual outfit as she'd usually be inclined to, after cleaning up she's gone right back to a pilot suit.

She sits next to Eight, leaning back in her seat with her arms folded in front of her. Her attention is /partially/ on Full Frontal as he makes his rather bold statement - but she finds her gaze drawn to the woman accompanying Captain Zinnerman, too.

...She looks a lot like Callie. She couldn't mistake the face of someone who's been a friend for so long.

Her attention is then drawn toward Banagher, too, as he raises a fist. Anita leans forward in her seat, just a little. 

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

Angelo Sauper has never seen a Zentradi warship before, much less been on one. The brush with the Zentradi was long before his time, and the existence of aliens was always far, far away from his most immediate concerns in Globe City. Giant aliens, endeared by the pop culture of Earth?

He had enough problems just surviving from one day to the next.

Ultimately, the immensity of the ship just sets the pale-haired Sleeves lieutenant on edge. Since arriving, Angelo and his retinue of Royal Guards have not left the hangar of the Ra Mari II, keeping roost over their Mobile Suits - more specifically, the Sinanju - and ensuring that no one approaches or attempts to otherwise access them.

Ultimately, it's a protective but rote concern. Something to keep him busy, and keep his mind off the sensation of being stuck in a giant's shell with people he despises.

But when the time comes to meet those people, Angelo does not fail to be there, at his Captain's side. Oversight of the Sleeves' mobile suits are left to his wingmen; Angelo himself...

Full Frontal is relaxed. Angelo Sauper is not. He, very pointedly, refuses to sit, instead standing off to the side of the Sleeves commander. Hands clasped behind his back, posture straight-backed, chin held high, Angelo carries himself with a professional - if tense - neutrality that would so easily mark him among the haughty ranks of Zeon's old guard, in another life. What differentiates him, what marks the facade, is the feel to him. The sharpness of him.

The quiet seethe, easily missed behind his stare as his gaze fixes on Banagher Links.

Whatever Angelo's thoughts, he keeps them to himself; his gaze hoods as he Zinnerman and his entourage arrive, tipping his head to the captain of the ruined Garancieres, but Angelo is otherwise silent and still.

At least --

How dare you--!

Banagher moves. Violet eyes widen. That fist swings --

                        C R A C K !

And its momentum finds its end early, colliding with the side of Angelo Sauper's face as he tackles Banagher with a sudden surge of angry fervor.

Head snapping to the side, tasting blood from where he bit the inside of his cheek from the stinging force of the blow, it doesn't stop Angelo from ramming into the Unicorn's young pilot, looking to take him to the ground and introduce his fist to the Newtype's face with a forceful, bloody-lipped rebuke:

"You don't TOUCH him--!!" 

<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.

Arrival was sort of like the one time Roux went to a cathedral. It wasn't an actual cathedral - it was a science museum in a colony around Jupiter - but it had the shape of one. The architecture loomed.

That's a Zentraedi ship for you.

Roux parked the Strike Zeta and waved awkwardly at a hangar tech who recognized her Normal Suit. Then, strip out, hose off, put on her ditty bag outfit and put the normal suit up for cleaning. Take a few moments to update the Strike Zeta's log. Get a burger.

All of these things are kind of routine, and Roux pauses for long seconds at the burger machine; but it isn't quite the same one she remembered.

Roux is not in business attire, but her 'ditty bag' outfit was a short-sleeved pale-teal shirt with lapels on it, so the accompanying flight jacket is sort of kind of official. She also has on something like pants, in that they were shorts with long leg-wrapping strips of aqua-blue fabric with tiny pink foil embeds, but that's not really a thing that she worries about now. At least she's not on Earth, so she can worry less about getting dirt on her feet.

But... there was a thing in the air. This Zinnerman guy was probably just a guy like any other -- an enemy, of sorts, but not a bad man, from what Roux had heard of him. But there's someone else... a presence Roux has only seen on the battlefield.

Full Frontal. He arrives. He speaks. Roux feels her spinal muscles tighten upwards. She thins her lips as she looks at him. She shifts in her seat though it isn't yet that aggressive. When he approaches Banagher, her posture gets tighter. What is he doing? This has happened before. I messed up then, Roux thinks, I'm not going -

He's just saying something.

Roux's mouth opens in minor shock after Banagher takes the swing. As someone else dives in and tackles him--

In that interval, Ruri speaks. Roux makes a sort of snort-choke as the laugh begins and is held by some kind of reinforced will. Her eyes turn towards her fellow bluenette's projected visage, and then she puts a hand on the table and leans forwards. "Banagher! He's screwing with you! I don't know what's happened with you, but--"

"He's going to have an angle," Roux concludes, and NOW she looks straight at the unmasked man, even as she gets all of the way out of her seat and over towards the potentially emerging scrum. Though ancient instinct takes over; she surrounds, but does not yet take her shot. 

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        Liam sits at Eight's end of the table, and despite being in civilian clothes, he's an imposing, noticeable presence. He's wearing the contents of his bail-out bag--grey hoodie, jeans, combat boots--and he shaved his head when he showered. The surgical scar along his brow is pulled tight with tension. He knows Char Aznable as a Zeon ace, and the man who tried to end all life on Earth, but he never met the man, much less the man people are calling his Second Coming.

        But Liam has a... difficult history with Zeon, even if none of it is personal. And even if he didn't, he could pick up on the tension here.

        Liam's bright blue eyes have been focused on Full Frontal and his entourage since they first entered, noting stance, carriage, the presence of weapons, concealed or otherwise. Full Frontal himself seems confident to Liam, and predatory.

        And like any predator in human shape, he goes to make an example of someone, a pattern Liam is all too familiar with.

        "Banagher," Liam says, eyes widening, voice rising in alarm as he /lunges/--and then the younger man intervenes. For one agonizing moment, Liam is faced with a paralyzing choice: intervene of his own volition, and risk jeopardizing matters further, or let Angelo beat a young man who's already suffering. "That's /enough/." The words are so harsh they almost scare him. In those few instants, Liam rises from his seat, closes the distance, and tries to grab Angelo's hand before he can strike Banagher again. The tension radiating off him is so thick you could cut it. 

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        A shower and a change of clothes isn't enough to wash the heady buzz of finding yourself one small part of a miracle, even with the introduction of some special guests near the end.

        Which leads to.... now. Dressed in the Nadesico's one piece uniform slightly different from the one Ruri wears in the window next to her, Lucine has swept up her hair into a ponytail.

        The tension, when Full Frontal enters the room, is immense. Gold eyes cast worried glances at those she knows in the room, then back to Full Frontal and Angelo. She's a witness here, at best.

        It's like being in a room with a roaming lion, unsure if the beast is going to lay down or go for the kill.

        And he does, going straight for Banagher. The wire visualized in Lucine's mind snaps, and Banagher goes straight for Full Frontal. Lucine is raising from her seat as Angel intervenes, but Liam is thankfully much faster, and much more capable.

        And Ruri, likewise, though in a different fashion.

        Lucine composes herself, quietly thankful Ruri said what she couldn't.

        ".... You heard my associate, Mr. Frontal. Though, ah... I'm not sure I'd say Banagher is a child..." she admits, softly. "... I would expect more of someone with your reputation, either way." 

<Pose Tracker> Suberoa Zinnerman has posed.

When Banagher swings for Full Frontal, Zinnerman does nothing save arch a brow in concern. When Angelo intercedes and escalates the fight, the old salt speaks: "Flaste, get him out of that."

His first mate moves with practiced ease, blocking Angelo's following swing and trying to shoulder-check the guard captain back towards Full Frontal while interposing himself between the white-haired man and Banagher. "That's enough, Banagher," he says. "Don't let him get under your skin."

Zinnerman places a firm hand on Banagher's shoulder. "I know it hurts," he mutters to the young man. "We can talk about it later. This is a terrible place to let things slip out of control. Take a few seconds."

Keeping his hand on Banagher's shoulder until the young man has collected himself, Zinnerman glances to Marida, who nods and pulls out chairs for the Garencieres representatives. 

<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.

Eight watches Full Frontal move. Her gaze is latched onto him; she trusts Enba to warn her of any dangers from elsewhere. It's true, though--her demeanor is calm, but clearly full of tension. She is not glad to be here in the moment... but it is her duty.

"Must you?" Eight asks flatly. But before she can really drag him about it, Ruri has that handled.

Her crew has been helping with the matter of the Garencieries, but Eight has not missed Marida's appearance. She knows that profile very well indeed, after all. But she notices, too, that Sleeves uniform...

Hm.

Lavhi is already in motion the instant Banagher moves. Rising from his seat, he immediately rushes towards the fight. However, Flaste has gotten in the way first, and Zinnerman is on the way. So instead of restraining one, he steps with Flaste into the way, pushing them apart with minimal force if necessary. He is a broad, tall man, powerfully built on top of being a Zentradi in the first place; he is not without confidence that he can break this up.

Eight rises to say, "That is ENOUGH." She points at Banagher. "Sit down, Links. Another outburst like that and I will have you removed." Her 'feeling' is sympathetic--but her words are harsh, because her 'feelings' are not what dictate her actions in this case. They cannot be.

"Everyone," she includes Leina, "Be quiet. This is not how we conduct a negotation. Do I need to have anyone else removed from the room?"

She pauses, and looks to Full Frontal. "Is there anyone else you would like to provoke, or shall we move on?" Eight says. "I assume you have more to say than that." 

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

Leina's eyes narrow fractionally as Full Frontal starts addressing Banagher, squeezing his hand, and ends with...

... she inhales sharply, on what he says. She's upset too, but she understands what's going on, "Banagher don't-! He's just trying-" He's already out of his chair though, he's already across the room, he's already punching towards the man. Leina can already see the chain of events playing out. The brawl. She gets out of her chair as if to move to break it up, but Angelo's already on the move.

Then Lavhi grabbing him.

It's only once the fight is broken up that Leina gives Full Frontal a dark look, before looking back to Banagher as she echoes Eight, quietly but firmly, "Banagher we're going to sit down." But even as Eight calls for silence even looking at her, she stares back, as if to tell her 'I cannot in good conscience', as if apologetically, before... "Are you completely and utterly devoid of shame? The man jumped in the way of Banagher's gun because someone uttered words to activate his conditioning. Does it please you that you have that much in common with the Doctor that spoke those words, after what you did in Zum City?"

A hand upon Banagher's shoulder as she gives Full Frontal a cutting look, "... But even more in common with the young man who's life was tragically cut short?" A momentary pause as if to let that settle in, "You're no vessel of Spacenoid Will, only a pawn of the powerful, same as he was. And if you want to be more than that then you won't pass on the unnecessary cruelty you learned from your own lessons."

She does sit down herself, if allowed to, but she also will allow Eight to remove her for disrupting her meeting and undermine her authority. 

<Pose Tracker> Full Frontal has posed.

With trained, casual precision, Full Frontal prepares to dodge...only for Angelo Sauper to take Banagher's fist in his place. Full Frontal frowns. "Angelo, truly. There was no need for you to take such a weakly aimed blow in my place. Come now, take my hand." Staring down at Angelo, the Ghost of Char cocked his head slightly.

That wasn't a request, Angelo.

Helping his major domo to his feet, Full Frontal clicks his mask back on, glacier blue eyes once again obscured by unfeeling scarlet. "Such force, Banagher. Tell me, did killing your friend teach you the potential and possibilities of violence? Of venting your emotions so carefreely, using your rage as a tool. I wonder what Cardeas Vist would think of his chosen inheritor of the Unicorn, using such awesome responsibility as a means to inflict violence?"

Full Frontal steps back to the couch and sits back down, beaming a false smile as he scans the room. Noticing Zinnerman once more, the supreme leader of Zeon's military forces claps in mock joy. "Ah, my dear Captain! Tell me, how is your pilot doing? I believe she's related to one of the pilots stationed here. Perhaps she could learn a thing or two about protecting her vessel." Frowning once more, the Ghost of Char continued. "Frankly, Captain, I am disappointed in Lieutenant Junior Grade Cruz. She was meant to protect your vessel and be your ace...yet what has she done for our cause? Time and time again, she has failed our cause. Whether against the Unicorn, or in this most recent conflict, she has yet to deliver satisfactory performance. Give me a good reason I should not have her replaced with a more competent pilot."

The venom doesn't stop its flow there, however.

To Leina, the Ghost of Char chuckles coldly. "Youthful idealism is such a treasure to behold. What is your point? Like I said, the world of us adults is full of hypocrisy, lies, betrayal. You of all people, in this room, should know this well...or did being Glemy Toto's pet doll teach you nothing?" Clapping his hands sharply, once, the leader of the Sleeves continued on, making a show of scanning the room in his usual, practiced manner. "As for Zum City, I saw an opportunity, and seized it. The Puru series were designed for war, and war alone. Those Triple 000 addled fools were a threat to all, so I made the decision to use every tool available. The collateral damage was regrettable, but we are all here still, are we not? A pity the pilot could not join us. I'm sure she would enjoy teaching Lieutenant Junior Grade Cruz how to dance, I'm sure."

Turning to Eight York, "Now that the tide has passed, Captain York, I am here to ask for your cooperation. While I'm quite aware many of you would prefer to be rid of my and my men's presence, our units unfortunately suffered some damage in the bout to defend you and yours. I am politely requesting use of your hanger and salvaged material from the Garencieres to bring my forces to deployment ready status once more, then I shall return to my own command."

While worded with the utmost false sincerity, it was quite clear this wasn't a request, especially considering how much better shape the Sinanju and Krake Zulu were compared to their counterparts. The Ghost of Char folded his hands in front of his face, resembling a certain NERV officer as he waited for Captain York's reply.

For now, we wait.

The ghost stirred within. Amuro.

A glint behind the mask.

He shall not stop us. Never again. But for now...

We prepare. 

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

Banagher only has a moment to stare at Angelo, bewildered, as his fist connects. Then he's taken to the ground by Angelo's momentum, grunting as the other young man lands on top of him.

Liam and Flaste intervene, stopping any further damage, but Banagher glares up at Angelo all the same. His hands shake with how badly he wants to keep fighting. Instead, he simply reaches up, grabbing the finery around Angelo's neck.

"He doesn't -- care about you." Banagher hisses to Angelo. "He doesn't care about /anyone/. You're wasting your time idolizing him like this. He'd never have protected you."

Zinnerman's words reach Banagher, and he stands, turning his back on Angelo. "Y--yeah. Sorry, Captain, I just--" For a moment, the young man leans into Zinnerman's touch, closing his eyes. "...yeah. Later."

Banagher takes a breath, then winces as Eight calls him out. Returning to his seat next to Leina with a nod, he hunches his shoulders up. "Sorry, Captain York, Lavhi... It won't happen again."

A bit of Angelo's blood is smeared on Banagher's knuckles. He doesn't notice.

Leina tears into Full Frontal, and Banagher can't help but feel a thrill of satisfaction. Taking her hand -- even if for a moment, if Eight removes Leina -- Banagher squeezes it tight. A silent 'thank you'.

Again, Full Frontal needles him, but this time, Banagher doesn't turn to look the larger man in the eyes. "Killing Wira hasn't changed who I am. I'll never stop regretting it. But I won't let it turn me into someone like you." A pause. "My father knew he could trust me that much, at least."

Banagher can't help but flinch at the venom directed toward Marida, gritting his teeth. Zinnerman can protect her... And Banagher can't go back on his promise to Captain York, not this quickly.

But if Full Frontal makes a move to hurt her... Angelo won't be enough to stop Banagher's fury.

...this resolved is tested to the extreme when Full Frontal turns his attention to Leina. Banagher grips the edge of the meeting table with his free hand. "...all you can do is attack people about their pasts... You'll never be a vessel for the future of your people." Golden eyes shimmer with fury, as Banagher raises his head to look at Full Frontal. "You won't touch any of them. If you want a fight so bad, I'll give you one, somewhere else. Captain York is kind enough to shelter you and your men... Can't you have /some/ decency while you're asking for her help?"

With another breath, he looks away, finding Liam's eyes. Bangaher gives him a tight, stressed little smile -- another 'thank you. Roux, too -- he hadn't seen her there during the fight, but Bangaher knows she would've kept him safe. 

<Pose Tracker> Suberoa Zinnerman has posed.

Zinnerman allows Full Frontal's barbs as to the condition of his vessel to pass without comment; it's bringing Marida into the picture that rankles him. The young redhead sits up at rigid attention when Full Frontal threatens transferring her away, but with an effort, her captain remains fixedly calm. "As I'm sure the Rewloola's analysts would have told you, Commander, any mobile suit we attempted to deploy while attempting to maintain escape velocity and rendezvous course would have been ripped apart by the forces at play. Earth's gravity is not a foe that can be defeated easily. The Vist Foundation knew our movements, and timed their strike exactly to impede our ability to defend ourselves; I will be reviewing our communications for any sign of a leak."

"As for re-arming, whatever parts we can salvage from our Geara Zulus that didn't make it are, of course, at your disposal." It wearies him to make this concession, but the chain of command obligates it. Much like Eight, Zinnerman is focused on maintaining a semblance of decorum over the negotiations. 

<Pose Tracker> Ruri Hoshino has posed.

        Ruri's screen, observing all this, can't rightly intervene. She isn't /here,/ physically. It's... a little confronting, seeing everyone move to violence, like this. "Um..." She starts, a shade of consternation crossing over her face, mildly troubled.

        Well, she's young enough that she just says what she means, but she didn't mean for everyone to start hurting each other.

        Luckily, Eight presents a conclusive end to the argument. She even raises her voice!

        Regardless, the situation continues. Full Frontal keeps speaking. Well, the important part is what he says to Eight. All Ruri has to say is: "The Nadesico will support the Ra Mari II in its choice." Still quite stoic, still quite unshaken. 

<Pose Tracker> Ujico Issa has posed.

        It would be good if Liu Mei were here, Ujico thinks. Loomy always knows the right words.

        It would be even better, she thinks more quietly, if she were inside Palisade. She could reach out, and [erase] the [cruelty] called Full Frontal, right here. There is a high pitched hum in the back of her head. There is a knot in her guts.

        He is /right in front of her/ and she can't do /anything/.

        She'd tried so hard to forget about it. The taste of helpless rage; the metallic flavor of hate. 

<Pose Tracker> Anita Rosetta has posed.

Banagher punches... but Angelo intercepts and tries to pin him in turn. Anita starts to stand up - but Lavhi and others are already moving to separate them before she can, so ultimately she ends up not having to act. Which is good for her, she prefers when she doesn't have to do a thing. What she /does/ do is look over to Ruri's screen and offer her a sympathetic smile in response to the troubled look crossing over her face before looking back over to Eight.

...It's pretty impressive how quickly Eight gets everything back under control. That's why Anita respects her, though. She knows it probably can't be easy for her, but she's doing what's necessary for her ship and her crew.

And then, there's Full Frontal...

...It's like that, huh? It'd be kinder of him to just point a gun in their faces, really. Anita leans back in her chair a little more, arms folded in front of her. She frowns, just slightly - but she doesn't make a move, out of trust for Eight. 

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

There's a personal kind of anger in Angelo's eyes when he raises his fist again.

"You're nothing more than an overglorified key! How dare you--"

It's replaced by surprise when he finds his wrist snatched by someone else - someone behind him. Purple eyes widening, Angelo snaps a look over his shoulder to -glare- at Liam as he -yanks- his hand against that grip. "Get -off- me--!" he begins to snap in that reactionary, defensive way, before the shoulder check courtesy of Flaste completely separates him from Banagher. Falling back with a -thmp!-, frustration flares inside the pale-haired young man as he hears Banagher.

"... You have... NO idea what he's done for me! You have no idea what he is! The second you say another word about him, I'll throttle it from your lips, you--" His fingers drag into the floor beneath him, flexing and tensing in preparation before --

Come now, take my hand.

                That wasn't a request, Angelo.

... he remembers where they are -- what they're -there- for. Angelo blinks.

"... Yes, Captain."

Irritability bleeds from him into something more tensely pacified as he takes Frontal's hand and uses it to drag himself back onto his feet. Refusing to show the weakness of stumbling, Angelo bumps into the nearby Roux as he withdraws; the guardsman seeks to shoulder-shove past her with an irate "/move/", pushing a hand through the thick mess of his pale, purple-white hair as he looks to reclaim his point beside Full Frontal.

This time, he positions himself further towards the front -- as if preparing for anyone else who might try to take a swing, outnumbered or not.

Angelo is pushing his thumb past his bloodied lip as he listens to the others. He affixes a glare on Leina in particular, frown briefly creasing his lips.

"Show more gratitude to the man who saved you," he bites back, voice composed again but curt at best. "... where your 'miracles' fell short."

Other than that, though, Angelo lapses into silence so as to not interrupt Frontal's parley; bloodied but stoic, one hand rests on his hip in an arrogant pose.

To distract from how the other is clenched, tremblingly taut. 

<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.

Chaos! Mayhem! The scuffle breaks up and it is that to which Roux reacts first. Having seen others come closer, Roux steps back a half-pace, because you don't want to accidentally make a crush, even if this place has gravity running one way or another. But then Full Frontal helps his man up.

Roux stares but she probably isn't one of the ones who has to put on a pretty face right now. Her lips stay ever so slightly pulled back in a scowl; Angelo comes up, impacting her in a way that lacks the specific malice or beneficence she's used to feeling, and so his shoulder smashes into her left front and she immediately twists back with a deeper scowl and an "or WHAT, Lilac," but it's not enough to actually stop him from getting past.

Ow, Roux thinks a few moments later. He got me in the boob pretty good. Prick! (Or something like that.) She is able to swallow it, smiling faintly at Banagher.

Leina speaks. At times, Roux has thought Leina speaks in too much of a political way. In a moment she understands: This is *why* she learned to do that.

Full Frontal answers... he mentions Glemy, he mentions (one of the many) things Glemy *did* -- Roux's bonhomie dissipates. Her jaw tightens. She doesn't have pockets in this outfit to slide her hands into, so they slot together behind her back, fingers curling into a cradle there to absorb the tension alone. He adds 'the Puru series' and Roux --

-- maybe she is too old, because the thought crosses her mind but isn't acted on. Not in front of Eight. She's already been cruel enough to someone who was kind. Roux turns back towards a seat, saying in a tone that's not *to* anyone in particular but not *not* to anyone, "Getting a little thick, huh?"

Roux sits down again, unhappily. Now she looks towards Leina, and then over towards Ujico and Liam for a moment, who she does not know. "C'mon," she says to Liam, tilting her head at a seat. "It'll be over faster." 

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        Liam's grip is like iron. The moment his hand closes around Angelo's forearm, he seeks out the younger man's eyes. Liam's eyes say what his words cannot--there's anger there, kept carefully-restrained, just like how his strength is kept carefully-restrained. His muscles remember what his handler taught him, and he knows it doesn't take much force to snap a human wrist.

        He hates that he's considered that option.

        But he doesn't hold Angelo a moment longer than necessary; as Flaste knocks him away, Liam lets go, and approaches Banagher without turning his back on Angelo and Full Frontal.

        There's a deep sense of empathy in his eyes as he meets Banagher's gaze. "Yes, ma'am," he says, as Roux addresses him, and he returns to his seat next to Lucine. His hand seeks out hers, beneath the table.

        He needs the support. Full Frontal did not make a good first impression, and it's only deteriorating with every word. If what Leina says is true--and he has no reason to think it isn't--then the Ghost of Char is like /him/. 

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        Lucine would have been happy enough to sail on the wings of anger, despite the danger she feels. Something about the man, in how he throws his weight, rubs a part of her the wrong way.

        But that may be by design. .... She's done the same, hasn't she, using her abilities to guess at some emotional weak point in an opponent?

        Eight proves herself to be the leader in the room, gaining control of the situation. Lucine, trusting her judgment, concedes, returning to her chair.

        'For what it's like, imagine being at a party you don't want to be at. Feeling everything that's going on within the room.' A ball room, a ten year old girl in a red satin dress. It's a faded vision, because it's not her own memory, but something she saw from someone else. She knows the separation like she would be seeing someone in a movie; but the emotions--

        A woman, an inferno of hatred, casing light for all the adults to gleefully flock around like moths to a flame.
        And the room
                slowly
                        empties

        "... _Mr. Frontal_." Lucine's eyes are on the Ghost. She's about to rise up.

        And Liam's hand finds hers, under the table, seeking comfort.

        This is a battle on multiple fronts. Leina's strong.

        She reluctantly sit back down, turning her head to Eight. 

<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.

Oh, it's worded like a request. But there is no need for the unspoken threat in it. Regardless of their chances against the two mobile suits already in their hangar, where the ship would be vulnerable...

If Eight turns out Full Frontal now, how many Spacenoid factions will be willing to risk her hospitality in the future? Any?

She does not have Leina removed, though it is tempting; frankly she wants all the allies she can get in here, though she may have a talk with her later about undermining her in front of the opposition. ...Maybe not; she appreciates what she said, all the same.

She nods to Banagher. "So long as it doesn't." Happen again, that is. Lavhi, for his part, stands down, and moves to return to Eight's side. He does not sit, this time. She turns her attention to Ujico for a moment; she can feel her anger. She can feel that need to /do/ something. She shakes her head, slightly, and tries to 'will' her support towards her, her calm.

"I appreciate your attempts to defend me, but it's unnecessary. This is a reasonable request, given his actions in saving our mutual allies." She pauses, and looks to Full Frontal, almost through him, as if she can penetrate that mask to see into his heart. Perhaps she would regret it if she did. Perhaps she sees what she needs to. Because...

Ruri mentions that the Nadesico will support them. "Thank you, Miss Hoshino. I will update Captain Misumaru on the results of this negotiation when we are finished."

Zinnerman of course has to accomodate his senior officer. But Eight... Well. Eight knows what she needs to do.

"In recognition of your aid, you are of course welcome to rest and repair your machines. I will have quarters set aside for you and those you require with you. You may consider yourselves our guests so long as you partake of our hospitality."

She appreciates Anita's quiet support. She is glad that Roux holds back, and works to handle the others. But she wonders at the loyalty Angelo shows to Full Frontal. What is the story, there? She doesn't know. Perhaps she will get to find out.

"Any attempt to interfere with my crew and my ship's activities, however, will be considered a breach of hospitality. This explicitly includes the woman you know as 'Puru Two'. But I'm sure that much could go without saying." It doesn't, though. She very much is saying it; the protectiveness she feels over 'Puru Two' is obvious.

"Perhaps we can come to an understanding during your stay. It would be good if we could resolve our differences through peace."

She doesn't look back to Lucine, for now. But she feels her gaze. "...I believe in a better world, Full Frontal. And I will put that belief to the test here." 

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

Leina may regard Angelo and Full Frontal with a analytical curiosity, but her mind puts such thoughts of trying to consider their relationship aside.

Full Frontal's words to Zinnerman about Marida earn an even icier expression, but Full Frontal's response, she momentarily looks like she got slapped as he cites her as Glemy's pet doll.

Fair is fair perhaps, on bringing up one's past, but Leina is not the only person made collateral damage.

Both of them are on this ship in fact. In the end, it's a struggle, against either tears, or rage or both, as Banagher rises to her defense, as Lucine rises up... Though they only needed to because she provoked it. Angelo's curt statement as if saying she's /ingracious/ for not simply accepting him bullying her boyfriend when he's only just started to recover from that tragedy because he chased the Banshee off.

It very much looks like she's going to have a breakdown on the spot of some sort for a time, but then Roux motions to the seat, and she looks that way...

'It'll be over faster.'

She's not wrong, and there's a certain solidarity between them in this moment of Glemy being invoked, and she moves Banagher and her towards taking a seat.

"... How truly sad, how much was hollowed out of you." Leina murmurs quietly, perhaps even inaudibly to most save those close to her. "That someone who claims to be a vessel for Spacenoid Will, would suit better as a Federation aristocrat."

... sadness, pity.

With a sigh that sounds like she's been defeated, whether more by his words, or simply the state of this world - it's hard to say.

And then, as Eight asked for, she is quiet. She already knows how much she disrespected her and her authority doing this, and for that she's apologetic.

She listens to her offer, her eyes cutting across to Eight as she mentions 'Puru Two', then she mentions coming to an understanding. Resolving differences, a belief in a better world.

Leina looks at Full Frontal, and remembers that vision of him surrounded by wisps of-

Under the table, she squeezes Banagher's hand harder. 

<Pose Tracker> Full Frontal has posed.

Full Frontal kept his passive expression, the trained, mechanical smile just another routine, even as waves of hostility continued to grow and broaden as more of the room's inhabitants focused their hate, disgust, anger, and loathing on him.

Good. Those enslaved to their emotions are no threat to a vessel designed to collect such things.

Patiently listening to Captain York, the smile doesn't waver, doesn't flicker in the slightest. Angelo hovered behind him, floating more closely now to contain any would-be threats to the leader of the Sleeves.

Oh, Angelo. Your loyalty is appreciated, but bold of you to assume any person in this room is a threat to a container of Neo Zeon's hopes such as I.

Upon hearing Captain York's agreement, Full Frontal injects a little more warmth into his smile, all by design. "My thanks, good Captain. I can see why you and Captain Zinnerman take to each other so easily."

But the show must go on. Like a painter, he moves to and from human canvases, seemingly at random. To Banagher, he paints the deep blues of disdain. "How quaint of you to reject even my essence as a vessel for the hopes of the Spacenoids. All of your violence, your graduation through the taint of hypocrisy, your slavish hope in the Box's contents...and yet you still remain so very blind. I am beginning to see why your 'Audrey' spends so much time with you. You're quite the mallaeble putty, Banagher Links."

To Zinnerman, the rust-red hues of disappointment. "And yet as one of the premier Captains of Neo Zeon, we must do better, Captain Zinnerman. For the sake of those we've lost, and for those yet to come. Would you not agree?" Enforcing a long pause, Full Frontal continues. "I suppose I can give Lieutenant Junior Grade Cruz another chance to prove herself under more amicable conditions...but I will not tolerate another chain of failures. Is that understood?"

Without waiting for a reply, the Ghost of Char continues strolling through his galleria, his workshop. The hostility from a certain Ujico Issa is met not with words, but the smug orange of a smirk and the feelings sent her way. A single whisper is delivered to her, yet its implications ring as loud as a church bell. You've no power here away from heaven, so let me remind you of how clipped your wings are, girl.

Circling around to Lucine, the smirk widens, the iridescent pinks of a taunt delivered to Ms. Azul. "Yes, Ms. Azul? You have something you'd like to say to me?" And without waiting for a reply, the leader of the Sleeves passes over her to Liam. Another snide remark. "My dear boy...you and I are alike, aren't we?" A voice honed to a whisper. "Both manufactured for use, both becoming more than we were ever planned to be. I shall watch you closely from now on."

A slight chuckle, a controlled peal of sound as he finally moved on to Leina.

"Amusing you might interpret my being as befitting of the suited pigs in Dakar. Yet, only a vessel hollowed out, whittled down, reborn such as I can hope to carry the weight of a million million souls trapped in stellar bondage, crying out in space to be heard, to have their desires made manifest, for the justice those drunk on Earth's gravity have long denied them. That a girl such as you still cannot understand is just a hallmark of your immaturity." The trained smirk evaporates into a frown, the emptiness yawning between the two as a chasm rent through space and time.

"You are but a child playing at war, Leina Ashta, unlike your brother. Playing with a mockery of his unit, dressing up in a normal suit in the hopes of embodying a tenth of his ability. Go back to your charity causes. The battlefield is no place for half measures and hopes."

With those words spoken, Full Frontal turned his back confidently on the room of murderous intent. "I will be retiring to the quarters allocated to my team. If you have anything to say, come to me personally...or if that is not to your liking, Angelo will be sure to get any and all communications to me.

The field is reset, the game begins. Now, let battle be met. 

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

Banagher can't help himself, looking back over his shoulder at Angelo for one more dig. "Better a key than an unloved dog."

The temperature in the room decreases with Eight's expert negotiation. Banagher settles in with Leina, looking a little embarrassed, now, to have acted so rashly. "Thank you, Captain York." Banagher murmurs, to her decision. For the sake of the Garencieres crew... He'll play nice with Full Frontal as long as he has to.

When Leina's expression changes, Banagher clings to her hand all the more tightly. He tilts his head at her slightly, asking through their bond: do you want me to make him stop? He'd go against Eight, against Zinnerman, against anyone, if she just said the word.

Feeling Leina's emotions whirl through their bond, Banagher waits, carefully paying attention. In the end, she decides on words, and he nods, ever so minutely. A loving murmur escapes Banagher's lips, and he pulls his chair a bit closer to Leina's, protective.

Full Frontal speaks, again, and again, Banagher tries not to look at him. At being called 'malleable putty', he flinches -- both at the insult, and the implied threat to Audrey.

Very few people in the room escape the Ghost's ire, and Banagher trembles with anger. Attacking Leina once again proves to be too much for Banagher, and he glares at Full Frontal, radiating fury.

"Don't talk to her like that." He snarls. It's clear, every inch of the young pilot wants to throw another punch, but he's trying /so/ hard to keep it together. "I've got a lot to say to you. You won't need --" Angelo? Is that his name? "A message delivered."

Banagher stares Full Frontal down until he leaves the room, then sags in his seat, covering his face with his free hand. Nothing good is going to come of this... occupation. 

<Pose Tracker> Ujico Issa has posed.

        In. Out. Ujico looks away from Full Frontal and the scuffle once it's under control. Step back from it. Put it in a box, and put that box inside another box. It's [safe] in there. It [can't hurt anybody], or her.

        In. Out. It's better to look at everybody else; she catches Roux glancing her way for a moment after the older girl sits down. She doesn't know Roux, but her hair and clothes are fun. She would /like/ to know Roux.

        But Eight is stronger than Ujico, and more patient than anybody could expect someone to be. Frontal makes an outrageous demand - and the captain of the Ra Mari II answers with grace.

        ...And Ujico realizes she's been had, along with most everybody else here. Was he trying to make everybody angry? But /why/?

        Sadly, realizing part of the trick doesn't make it sting less. If anything, it just threatens to tear open the box she'd so carefully created to hide away her helpless rage.

        The suggestion of a face she turns toward him, when Full Frontal approaches close enough to whisper to her, is blank. She makes no indication that she's even heard him.

        Inside her skull is the buzzing of bees. 

<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.

        Liam's shoulders bunch with tension. He holds Lucine's hand tighter, as if clinging to the stability she presents. For a few seconds, he hopes that Full Frontal will simply ignore Lucine, rather than laying into her. He gets his wish.

        The Sleeves' vessel addresses Liam directly, and he goes perfectly rigid, just like he'd done when the doctors addressed him. It's like all that anger just got sucked into a chamber inside him, something tightly-bound and sturdy. He can't let it out, even as Full Frontal says he'll be watching him, and his skin starts to crawl. He feels sick.

        Liam only speaks up once Full Frontal and Angelo have both left--Zeon or not, the freighter's officers seem... better, at least, then their commanding officer.

        "/Awful man/," Liam says, his voice tight. 

<Pose Tracker> Suberoa Zinnerman has posed.

The protective anger rages in Zinnerman as Full Frontal continues to threaten the position he and the Garencieres crew have tried so hard to create for Marida, to protect her from those who would spend the lives Glemy Toto brought into the world as flippantly as a child buying their favourite treats. It is only the discipline that bore him through imprisonment on Earth that prevents him from rising and showing Banagher a thing or two about how best to strike a smug blonde bastard (and his pampered hound, to boot).

Still, it is a near thing, and the sensitive can feel both the fury boiling inside him and the effort he is taking to master it.

"I appreciate your understanding, Commander," is what he manages to say, as the Ghost of the Red Comet sweeps out of the meeting room. A man so sure he has all the cards... Captain York, however, would seem to have the better poker face of the two, for all Full Frontal disrespects the authority of her ship. The veteran looks over to the young captain of the Ra Mari and offers her a slow, appreciative nod.

"My crew will have to impose upon your hospitality for some time, Captain, until we can arrange a replacement vessel of our own. My first officer will apprise you of what they need when we're concluded here." Flaste, seated on his right, nods. "I would also appreciate a... more private meeting, at your convenience." 

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

Angelo Sauper has a list of people who have earned his ire. It's grown rapidly today. Banagher has achieved his place at the top with that passing counter.

... But he doesn't even know most of their names. ... He'll have to fix that, at some point.

As it stands, he only has a scoff to offer Roux at her brief challenge before he settles into place beside Full Frontal. Distrust and caution are the subtle companions to the stoic mask of his expression as he listens to Eight's answer to the Captain. He regards her, unmoving, for a quiet moment, as if considering if Full Frontal has simply backed her into a corner or if she has some other angle.

The fact that it might simply be a gesture of altruism, obligatory or not, never quite enters his thoughts as a possibility.

All the same, as she lays out her conditions, Angelo abosrbs them all. He says nothing, but his head dips in quiet acknowledgment and acquiescence to her rules...

... at least, until Leina continues on.

A pale eyebrow spasms out a twitch at her accusation. Frontal parries it with a flippant, verbal grace, and yet Angelo's annoyance remains in the way his clipped nails bite into the inside of his palm.

Full Frontal exits. But Angelo lingers for several pregnant seconds longer, his violet eyes narrowing at Banagher as the young pilot of the Unicorn speaks.

"You won't see the Captain again unless he wants you to." he says, so flatly his tone is practically dead on arrival. "If you have anything to say to him, you will say it to me." Those eyes narrow to slits. "And then I'll deal with it appropriately."

He takes a moment, then. His gaze falls on Zinnerman and his people, a scowl tugging at his lips in a sort of 'what are you all -doing-' sort of way, before he quietly scoffs and makes his way towards the exit.

He is about to leave, when he pauses. His fingers cling on the frame of the opened door, as he looks over his shoulder at Leina -- at all of them.

"The Captain speaks with the voice of the forsaken people of space," he says, voice taut.

"If you can't hear them in every word he utters, maybe you should pay more -attention- to us while you're gallivanting past them all on your oblivious little adventures."

The door hisses closed after him, as he kicks off down the hall. 

<Pose Tracker> Lucine Azul has posed.

        "... I." Lucine closes her eyes, as Full Frontal circles over to her. ".... forgot, that not all battles need to be fought with anger." She keeps mindful of the hand holding onto hers underneath the table. "... Even if it feels better to respond that way."

        However, Full Frontal's interest has already moved on as he circles to Liam, Lucine immediately regrets her words.

        'I shall be watching you closely from now on.'

        How can the man place a compliment and *still* Lucine wants to punch him like Banagher just did? Does she just now draw a line, after punching Akane at one of the lowest points in that girl's life?

        She feels the anger tucked deep inside Liam, and holds onto his hand for the same reason his hand managed to keep her level: a reminder of why Banagher's outburst was enough for all of them.

        After Angelo leaves, Lucine's entire back is tense.

        ".... I don't know if it's more insulting that he likely doesn't even consider Mars a part of that, or that he speaks for the dead on Mars.... Either way.... we might as well not even *exist*....."

        She just sinks her head down against the table. ".... I should have just punched one of them...." 

<Pose Tracker> Roux Louka has posed.

Roux can feel some of how other people are feeling. It's a subtle thing, for her, but it's there. Clearer, perhaps, than usual, but then a lot of people aren't taking pains to hide it. And there is that central focus point. Not The Federation, or injustice, but that man -

FULL FRONTAL.

Roux glances towards Eight as she lays out her terms. They are, perhaps, more than reasonable. There is that exemption, and Roux thinks with bleak concern: How is she? Can she hear me? ... Probably not. I wasn't ever any good at that.

Then Full Frontal Speaks. Roux watches him. She listens. Her jaw tightens again. A little pursing of the lips at his jibes - to Banagher. To Captain Zinnerman. A generous offer that doesn't sound generous at all to her, Roux Louka, although, Roux reflects, who asked me, anyhow?

And then he is gone.

A smart-ass remark surfaces in the back of Roux's head. Something cutting to say, but that's the thing, she would have been able to say it about Full Frontal, but there is that much to say about Full Frontal. Millions of millions? Who can say. But there is one man for whom he does speak - and that man is right here to say so.

Angelo. Roux's eyes narrow and cut towards him. Her jaw tightens. There is passion there. Foolishness, yes, but what passion isn't foolish? Being a fool is how you get started in almost anything.

But he is gone.

Roux exhales with force, and (gently) slaps the table as she turns in her chair. "Well, he doesn't speak for me," Roux says, and with some effort, recovers the vague bones of her clever remark: "I don't think you're going to poll most colonies and hear 'pick at the scabs of the people you're riding with' as, like, a big concern."

"... I guess we ought to talk," Roux says to Eight, "but we can pencil it in, it's smaller change than most of this. I guess I'm not going to be speaking to that guy for a while, huh."

To Zinnerman, she looks, and says, "Thank you," a beat, "for being there for Banagher and everyone, I mean. I hope you can find your way going forwards." But Lucine! Lucine gives her a space to get back in that cool-girl saddle, and she takes it.

"He probably wanted that," Roux tells her. "If his Mobile Suit was beat to shit he would have probably been all courteous and sweet. It's a threat. You probably ought to sweep anywhere his people stay or hang out in for listening devices." 

<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.

There is the deepest sort of frown at Banagher being called malleable putty by Full Frontal, that he is somehow better for the darkness the world inflicts upon him.

Despite her speaking mostly to herself, Full Frontal heard what she said anyway, alarmed at the Cyber Newtype's hearing, she sits there, staring at him as he speaks of his nature as a vessel, what makes him tick.

That it is a hallmark of her immaturity.

This time, for all he says, she merely lets him have the last word. Perhaps she is a child playing at war, perhaps he is correct.

However in her mind reading intelligence reports cannot offer Full Frontal the insight into even one-tenth of who Judau Ashta is, and what makes her older brother tick.

He proved that to her the last time he spoke of him.

This time, Leina puts a hand on Banagher's arm as he snarls, as if bidding him to stay down. It'll all be over soon. Full Frontal leaves - and Angelo...

... Leina's eyes snap to him as he speaks to her directly. There's a certain wonder in her eyes at what he has to say, as if he were barreling right past something important in his whole heartedly loyalty to Full Frontal.

"The forsaken people of space..." Leina repeats, in a sotto voce, a certain sadness to her expression.

"... I hear you." She replies, less a rejoinder, and more an expression of that sorrow as he walks out the door. "I hear you." She repeats, more quietly. As if acknowledging his hurt, his pain. The feelings that drive him to follow a man like Full Frontal.

Roux slaps a table in response, and Leina jolts, then manages a smile at her response, appreciative of what she has to say, "Can think of few things that would be lower on the survey." She remarks, listening to her thank Zinnerman before she adds her own words, "Captain Zinnerman... it's nice to finally meet you face to face. We should talk later."

She wants to thank him too, but this one... this one should be more private. Standing up, Leina smiles at Lucine, and Liam, before looking back to Banagher and...

"Come on Banagher, we're gonna swing by the medbay get you some pain killers for that. And then you're going to get some sleep."

Maybe she's telling him, but, right now maybe he needs to be told, though as she makes ready for the two to leave, she looks last towards Eight. "Captain York. I apologize for the disruption. I'll try my best not to let it happen again." 

<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.

Eight does not smile, of course. It's hard to tell if she's backed into a corner or if she has her own angle--or if she believes one and the other is true. But Eight's priority is her crew and the future...

She will fight for both, even if she must do so on this arena, with which she is less familiar.

"He's a good Captain," Eight says of Zinnerman easily. She doesn't really know him; but she is sure of that much.

She can't protect the room from his whispers; she can only endure what comes, in the moment. The 'vessel of the hope sof th Spacenoids'...

Does he hold her hopes, too? Eight York does not think he does, even if not everything he says is foreign. A man like that has to be good with words, after all.

She nods to Banagher's thanks, but does not speak to him yet. She does not look back to Ujico in the moment; that she is holding herself together is all she can ask. She notices Angelo's scrutiny, though. She looks to him, too. Angelo is still very protective...

"..." She does not say anything to him at this time. She considers; the 'forsaken people of space'. Angelo counts himself among them, clearly. But what does it mean, really? Is she 'tainted' to them for her Federation past? ...or would they assume she is one of them at heart?

/Is/ she, being so willing to negotiate with even Neo-Zeon?

Eight doesn't know. There's a lot she doesn't know. But she at least knows she can appreciate Roux.

"We should," Eight agrees with Roux. "I'll make the time." That's enough for now, anyway. There's a lot she has to make time for...

"We'll be keeping an eye out," Eight says to Roux, and looks to Lucine. "You did fine. He was trying to get a rise out of all of us. He'll probably try again."

"...All of you are also allocated quarters. Mx. Rezza, please see that everyone has a place to rest."

Rezza inclines their head, as Eight rises from her seat. For just a moment, when she gets near Lavhi, she leans on him, before she forces herself to straighten up. She smiles at Anita, briefly, and then looks to Ruri's screen. "Please contact Captain Misumaru for me. We'll have to talk."

Then she steps away from her chief engineer, to stand on her own. She reaches out to Leina, to set a hand on her arm. "I know," she says. "It's hard not to let yourself be provoked, over someone you care about. ...But I have to play this carefully, or else all our hard work will amount to nothing."

"Take care of Banagher, okay?"

She turns to look at the others. "I have things I have to get ready. ...Just remember what your values are. Don't let him change them. And I'll make sure of the same."

With Lavhi at her flank, Captain York moves to leave the meeting room.

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