2023-05-03: Adopting a Straye
- Cast: Lark Straye, Suberoa Zinnerman
- Where: Orbital Ring - Ra Mari II
- Date: U.C. 0097 05 03
- Summary: Lark Straye seeks out the Garencieres Team to volunteer her services as a pilot.
<Pose Tracker> Lark Straye has posed.
Lark Straye has largely made herself scarce since Palau. She's come out of her rooms. She's even spoken to people. But she hasn't drawn any attention to herself because she does not want the attention... for a number of reasons.
But she's going to have to do it sometime and she does have something to do. She's been thinking, after all - thinking hard. She still isn't sure what she wants to do, but there is something she *should* do. Plus, she should thank them for the ride back.
Of all the places Lark would usually go, the Pit that the Garencieres crew has taken over is real far down the list. So it may be a surprise when she turns down a side hallway of the Ra Mari II, a ship she still gets lost on more often than not, and follows the turns correctly. She memorized them.
She arrives, eventually. No Londo Bell uniform for her, which means no uniform at all; she has, however, put on one of the lighterweight normal suits, because she is presenting herself as a pilot and not as a civilian. Hers is particularly lightweight, being closer to a bodysuit with additions in some ways, though with the blocky shoulder and lightweight chestpiece that the Federation pilots tend to wear when not in a combat situation.
And the mask, which is very firmly covering her upper face, partially covering even her nose.
She pauses outside, and then... politely signals that someone is at the observation room's door. She doesn't want to just walk in on someone.
<Pose Tracker> Suberoa Zinnerman has posed.
The Garencieres Team have converted the 'Pit' into an intelligence and observation stronghold. At present, they're reviewing combat data from the incident in Seattle, focusing on the black RX-0 unit that's been hounding them for a while - the Banshee. The Pit's become something of an impromptu communal space for the team - somewhere that's theirs aboard a technically-hostile ship while surrounded by other Sleeves, where they can express their team specialisations towards the ongoing Laplace's Box mission.
Today: Captain Suberoa Zinnerman, Gilboa Sant, and the team's prodigy mechanic Tomura are reviewing the combat data. Gilboa scratches his chin, thoughtfully. "There's definitely a human pilot in there. Compare the way it moves with the Phenex against the Macross; the G-forces of moving like the Phenex does in atmo would knock a living pilot out, so the Banshee doesn't."
"So what about the spiritual resonance from the pilots who've gone up against it?" Tomura asks with a frown. Gilboa shrugs. "No idea... but it might be like what the deal with the Shamblo was."
Zinnerman grunts. "Keep analysing it, men." He looks up to the entrance and spots Lark hovering there, arching a brow and stepping down from the main console to approach the central table. "Clean yourselves up, we have a guest." He motions to the young woman. "Please, come in."
<Pose Tracker> Lark Straye has posed.
Lark's expressions are hard to read, even disregarding the mask. She has a kind of serious look, a slight purse to her lips, which are the only part of her face that's really visible as she steps inside, brushing her messy orangey hair out of her face (she needs a haircut).
"Don't worry about it," Lark says. "I'm not going to see anything I haven't seen before." Especially given she is not really looking at anything up on any monitors.
She doesn't say anything for a few moments. It's not obvious because her eyes are hidden, but she's glancing from person to person, shifting her eyes more than her head. "Thanks," she says, eventually. "You guys gave me a ride back from Palau when I wasn't in much of a condition to do that myself. Should've said something earlier."
Another pause, just long enough to be a little awkward. "You all with the Sleeves, then?" It's an easy question because she already knows the answer.
<Pose Tracker> Suberoa Zinnerman has posed.
Gilboa offers Lark a wry little half-salute. "Don't mention it. Risky piloting is my specialty."
Zinnerman nods, studying the young woman curiously. "... Yes, we run intelligence and espionage for the Sleeves; and I take it you pilot for us, too?"
Gilboa nods. "We picked her up after the external battle, on our way out." He looks over to Lark. "You were part of the group fighting off Aznable's Zeong, right?"
Tomura pipes up at this point. "If you need anythin' to help get your mobile suit back up to spec, we've got some surplus parts you can use. Kind of a weird one, isn't it?"
Zinnerman arches a brow at Tomura, before turning back to Lark. "Is there anything we can do for you, other than parts?"
<Pose Tracker> Lark Straye has posed.
"I don't," Lark says. "I mean, I don't now."
Seeing as it seems safe, she strides so that she can have a comfortable conversation without raising her voice. Best to be polite.
"I was fighting a different unit. Not sure what it's called, except it started out as a Doven Wolf, I think. Female pilot. Not Aznable. Though he's the one that caught my attention in the first place."
Lark is... awkward is a good word for it. Drawn into herself, a little, like she didn't entirely want to be talking to the three of them; she hunches slightly, looking as if she would put her hands in her pockets if she had pockets.
She is willing to talk about her suit, at least a little. "Weird. You could say that. It's an Anaheim one-off. Doesn't even have a name, it got pulled out of cold storage - apparently it lost a pre-production test to a Gundam, but it suits me fine these days." She smiles, just slightly. "I'd be surprised if you had a whole lot of parts for it, given it's one of those little ones Anaheim's been working on. Fifteen meters, tops. But the interior structure's a lot more normal than the outside looks; it's just the size."
Another pause. Shorter, at least. "I'm Lark," she says. "Lark Straye. I flew for Neo Zeon before Axis. Left, when it dropped." She's leaving things out. She's leaving a *lot* out - but her expression is so hard to read it's very difficult to make much of a guess beyond that. "Ended up in Londo Bell, until it fell apart."
"...There's no place for anyone like me there anymore. I feel like I'm walking in enemy territory half the time I leave my room, the way the Federation's going. I know the Ra Mari's not part of it, anymore, but still." I'm sorry, Lark, she thinks. But it needs to be this way. "...So when the Sleeves leave, I want to know if I can hitch a ride. I'll pay my way. In piloting, if nothing else. I don't have much money, or many skills other than piloting."
<Pose Tracker> Suberoa Zinnerman has posed.
Zinnerman rubs his beard. "Your thoughts, gentlemen?"
"Well," Gilboa starts, "Obviously we're shipless right now. Kwani's making some headway in inquiring on Rivacona Cargo's behalf in Orb, so we should be able to scrounge up another freighter if we need it."
"A smaller mobile suit would be a lot more amenable to our operations, captain," Tomura says, thoughtfully. "We could just barely fit the Kshatriya out the stern hatch; something smaller would have a much quicker deployment turnaround. Might need to tweak her reactor for long-range ops or figure out a cable extension like for our Skiure turret, though."
"And another primary combatant would reduce the general pressure on our operations when things get hairy again," Gilboa points out. "Right now it's me 'n' Marida shouldering the burden with the others filling in when they can."
Zinnerman nods, before returning his attention to Lark. "I understand Axis was a rough situation for everyone on the battlefield, that day. You must have been pretty young to be flying then."
He gets up from the table, walking around to Lark, and extends a big hand. "The Garencieres Team would be happy to have you, Lark. I expect my crew to develop basic competence in intelligence, espionage and infiltration, but we're a team - if you fall behind, the rest of us will help you keep up."
<Pose Tracker> Lark Straye has posed.
"..."
Lark looks, generously, eighteen or nineteen (as per usual it can be hard to judge with half her face concealed, but she's not especially old). Which means she couldn't have been much older than fifteen at Axis, so Zinnerman certainly has that correct. But Lark chooses not to confirm it one way or the other.
She switches the topic instead. "The reactor's solid. Pretty comparable output to the bigger ones. The flared armour's probably more of a problem." Lark almost adds something else, but reconsiders at the last moment; she doesn't need to bring up not using the gun, she'll just... not use it. She's got a beam rifle and her sword-axe, and really, that's all she needs.
She gets good vibes from the Garencieres team, which is why she approached them first. Less with some of the others - she heard Zoltan, though only on the one night - and somehow *not* telling them that she has a mass driver that can shatter asteroids and battleships seems like a good idea. She can use her own judgement.
Instead, she says, after a moment, "I'd like that. I know how a Skiure works too, actually." Not that she's ever used one personally, but they did come up in training and testing, however briefly. "Not that I'm trying to put any of you out of a job."
Intelligence, espionage and infiltration?
She's not really trained in that. On the other hand, she's living it. Lark figures she'll do all right. So why does she feel a little hesitant when she reaches out? She asked for this, after all.
But Lark puts her hand in Zinnerman's. The size difference is even more apparent there. "Sounds like a deal," she says. "I'll stick with you guys, until I figure out what I need to do. And I won't just ditch or anything, you'll know before it happens."