"S'ils tombent, nos jeunes héros - la terre en pr--"

"Frenchman, if you have nothing better to do, some aid would be appreciated."

Oho! My second favorite sentence!

"Those Balls could be more useful doing something instead of just hanging there."

OHO! My favorite sentence!

Floating not too far away from the corpse of another Zaku variant, Dallas finally allowed his singing to taper down into a whisper, and then cease entirely. The mobile suit pilot that had just requisitioned his help sounded positively scornful, and what's more, she seemed completely tone deaf to the possible innuendo laced into her own words. He couldn't even pretend to hear the faintest hint of fun in her voice. Something made him doubt it had ever been there in her life.

The thought was exciting enough to make him grin.

There was nothing in the world that made him happier than satisfying an aloof woman.

"Sure."

There. Nice and to the point. He didn't have to give her a headache.

"But when this is over, and you're alive because of me, I'm gonna want your name, doll."

But he wanted to.

Nonetheless, Dallas released his Balls, both pods maneuvering deftly through the asteroid field and scanning for the Zaku in question.

"My survival was never in doubt."

The Frenchmn was trying to rile her up. That was fine. Such people were common, and such efforts were just as common. As long as he was providing the cover she needed he could entertain himself all he wanted. If anything his attempts to aggravate her only added fuel to the fire. Having lost the disconnect that long range combat provided her heart was beginning to pound, the adrenaline beginning to seep out and course through her veins.

Her foe was a Newtype, this she knew for sure. It was the only explanation for their ability to react almost before an attack occurred, and it explained their mobile suit. Despite its appearance Rebekah doubted it had much in common with a mass-production Zaku at all. That left no room to hold back. She flicked a switch on her controls causing her GM to release the clamps securing her other rifle to its back, then she casually tossed her long-range rifle towards the Frenchman's Juggler. It drifted through space towards the other GM while the Striker grabbed its other rifle and readied it. In the cockpit Rebekah unbuckled her helmet, securing it under her seat and pulling out her hair tie. She pushed her hair back with one hand and loosened the tight-fitting collar of her normal suit with the other, rolling her head and feeling the satisfying pop of vertebrae.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade, Rebekah Fell. Take that rifle and make yourself useful. It will be more useful than that peashooter you are using."

Her chest pushed out with a deep inhalation, the relaxing exercise at odds with the energetic edge that had begun to creep into her voice. She needed to be focused. Being close to the fighting was different from sniping at a distance. It required a different level of preparation. She needed the adrenaline pumping through every cell of her body, expanding her consciousness to fill every fiber of her being. Thought became action effortlessly. The Metal Spider needed to move like an extension of her body.

She slammed on the thrusters as her eyes snapped open, violet eyes seeming to flash in time with violet visor. The Striker slammed its palm onto the asteroid, pushing it down and the GM up while the potent thrusters on its back sent it rocketing forward flanked by the two Type Ks. This wasn't like before, either; Rebekah wasn't hiding. The Striker was moving, and moving fast. Far faster than any other GM could manage. She moved in zig-zag motions, pushing off of the larger asteroids in her path with the Striker's foot without slowing down or bothering to make use of the maneuvering verniers. The number of possible directions, or orientations, the Striker could use to move forward made it hard to track; exactly what Rebekah was hoping for.

She had gotten a decent look at where the Zaku had chosen to take cover, now she could get close enough to do some damage. Unless one of its allies intervened, she'd see an attack coming in time to block or evade.

It was time to take this seriously.

@Plank Sinatra @Crimmy

"Ill cover you go do what you need to." Levi called out as she turned her attention to the others Bringing out her heat saber she charged forward she would buy time even if it meant her downfall her way to repent for what she has done. That was her idea her goal and it was going to be made a reality. "Come at me you feddie pilots try and get me, Sieg Zeon!" She yelled over the radio as she quickly found what appeared to be the GM juggler and charged at it. The fighting had to end there was no more reason to fight and she would make sure that it happens.

Resha gunned it. She had a clear shot to the chunk of colony with the comms on them. Grimacing as she flew past cars buildings and the such, the female made it to the chunk. Grabbing onto the platform, she depressurized the cockpit and opened it, the hatch smacking onto the concrete. Pushing off her Zudah, Resha made her way to the door, the backup generators allowing it to open for her. This caused the girl to sigh a sigh of releif, knowing her job would be a bit easier.

Maneuvering into the colony's comms hq, the female had to try to herself together, passing a few corpses on the way in, which she tried her hardest to not look at. Making it to the comms room, the female saw it red with emergency lights, but the computers still capable of operating the antenna attached to the hunk of colony. She began to type commands into the pc, the antenna opening up and directing at the battlefield, massive dish preparing to bombard the area.

Taking a deep breath, she flicked on the comms, the massive colony bound antenna pushing through the minovsky particles even if a bit fuzzy. "Please, if you can hear me, stop fighting!" she called out to the fighters left on the field, of which there weren't many. "My name is Resha, formerly Zeon, but i renounce my ties in favor of humanity as a whole... I know some of you can feel... things... even if it's a buzzing in the back of your head, a voice, a nawing thought or even other people's voices... that's because you are most likely a newtype... but regardless, if you're still alive, we're all humans. Both fleets have left us and regardless of how many you kill now, everyone out here is dead if you just continue like that." The girl's voice said, betraying her young age and just how hard she was trying to communicate with people. They could almost feel the emotion and near desperation for a cease fire in her voice.

"Please just stop fighting! if we want to live, we can do this together. No ideals are worth fighting for if they just so willingly toss their fighters to the side like we're nothing but more debris and out here. Please see some sense in this madness, this war that is so pointless right now... our lives shouldn't be wasted on the grand ideals and ambitions of people who do naught but push their own agendas! We can come together and live through this, and maybe, just maybe we can make our mark on history if we survive. Please just come to the antenna chunk and we can talk this out like humans and decide from there how to survive... I'm only sixteen; i don't want to die yet. Not like this." The female said with final lines that could send chills down anyones spine; a desperate plea from just some girl who was afraid and alone. After that, she clicked off the comms, taking a few deep breaths and shudders as the girl felt she had aged several years during the course of that speech. She gave out her location to people she had been fighting mere minutes ago. For one of the few times in her life since she was little, she felt vulnerable and afraid. Crouching down into a corner, she curled up and prayed to whatever force existed out there that these people would listen to her.

"Well, Bekah," came the flippant reply, devoid of ceremony, "normally I charge to let a girl be so thoroughly...dominant. But I think I like you. So get ready to have the backup of your godda--"

He felt the Gouf approaching before he saw it.

The Juggler Custom spun to face down the blue mobile suit, charging towards Dallas' mobile suit with heat rod raised. He supposed it ought to have been worrying. But then, dicks intent on ramming into our hapless French hero were nothing new, were they? And Dallas Grenier, for once, had failed to eschew his protection.

In the back of the head, he heard the dull buzzing of some Zeon jockey's plea for peace. It was a little sweet, hit all the right emotional beats and all, and she clearly had some awareness, both of his Newtype status and her own. But he wasn't about to lay down the rifle and let himself get carved up by Spacenoid heat weaponry. If a rentboy ever ended up carved up, it was usually in some rich millionaire's icy bathtub, with his kidneys and half his liver missing. It wasn't going to be in space, far away from everyone he'd ever known or loved.

Never going to happen, dear.

Hoisting the beam rifle that the Metal Spider had lent it, La Hire fired off three shots in succession, once at the shoulder of the arm wielding the heat rod, and two directly aimed for the cockpit. At the least, he expected to take off the Gouf's arm, if not leave the pilot atomized inside her cockpit. He didn't really care much for her life one way or the other.

Dallas just wanted this fight wrapped up. And he wanted some face time with that Spider pilot.

BRIZO BADAMISH

She's fast.

That edgy GM the Feddie was piloting was miles ahead in sophistication to any other mobile suit she'd fought over the course of the war, and the speed at which it bounced around the battlefield like a trampoline getting bread was testament to the power of its tech. It really was on the ... cutting-edge (heh) ... of mobile suits, and if Brizo hadn't known better, she could've thought it to be something from a future where the Federation had won the war (which was actually still pretty likely given the massive manpower imbalance and growing familiarity with MS use). That obviously wasn't the case, because she was fighting it right now.

If she had been piloting a normal Zaku rather than the Act Zaku that Flanagan had given to her for today, then she probably would have been completely repelled by that Jim. The magnetic coating was probably the only thing helping her keep up so well. Even some of the Institute's prototypes probably couldn't reach speeds of that magnitude, excepting her beloved Brawrello. Those Feddie scientists were good.

That's why she couldn't really give up, no matter what that Newtype girl on the comms was asking. Not that she really wanted to leave Zeon that much in the first place. She would survive here, get all the battle data and interesting info back to the Institute, then enjoy a meal with the mobile suits. That'd be nice. Maybe the ships were leaving, sure, but she'd get home some way.

But first, she needed to beat up this Feddie Newtype and the super suit.

Brizo'd never really fought another Newtype before, and this was quite relaxing.

Her machine flared into action. There was no more point in remaining still if that GM could strike so quickly. She needed to keep the Act Zaku moving and make use of its own speed. Thus, the mobile suit promptly pushed against the asteroid she was hiding behind, thrusters bursting to life and accelerating herself, and the mass of the rock, forth at a rapid speed. However, she immediately broke off as the small asteroid began to roll through the void towards the rest of the field of asteroids, her thrusters immediately redirecting to move her in another direction. This time, downwards, to cover herself below the rock.

It was fast. It was confusing.

So she'd get the asteroid field moving.

A low, irritated growl reverberated deep in Rebekah's chest.

The opposing Zaku was fast, and more irritably, it was smart. The former was easy to deal with, the latter was not. It had evaded her surprise attack through what she had to assume was Newtype ability, and since then... Every attack was evaded, every maneuver was matched. There was nothing to be done while they were both within the asteroid field, even with the support from-

Ohhh, you have got to be kidding me.

The Juggler had been engaged by a Gouf (of all things), and despite the vaunted prowess of Newtype pilots Rebekah had no intention of leaving her support to a unit usually operated by two pilots. Time to reevaluate. The Act Zaku seemed to be a match, more or less, for her own Striker's mobility. Add in the presumed Newtype status of its pilot and the asteroid field was too level a playing field for her taste. Best to change that. Moving to aid the La Hire would free up her ally, and allow them both to regroup and deal with any potential remaining enemies.

Besides, he still had her rifle.

The next time the Striker's feet slammed into an asteroid it pivoted, pushing off again in the other direction; she fired her thrusters just as hard as she had in her advance, darting to and from the protective cover of the floating rocks as she did. It only took a few moments to escape the field again and move back out into open space, drawing a bead on the Gouf while she approached the Juggler.

She heard the broadcast from the Zeon pilot, and her frown deepened. She had noted the departure of the ships, but an attempt at a ceasefire was... A new wrinkle. Not everyone was necessarily going to be cooperative. Offer one hand, arm the other. She didn't lower her rifle, but she did use her lights to start transmitting the series of blinks that indicated a ceasefire.

"I cannot leave you alone for mere minutes, Frenchman."

@Plank Sinatra @Suku @Crimmy

Levi huffed hating to have to do this to her Gouf who had been a good partner for her practically a friend at this point but she need to survive and not die by a feddie pilot. Letting the shots hit her arm was a small sacrifice if anything she supposed. With the loss of her one arm she stopped it seems words was finally going through hopefully opening up her speakers she decided to speak up "This is Levi of the Zeon mobile force earth unit "dark materials" I ask for a cease fire as things are now there is no point in continuing this fight." She said laying down her one good arm gripping a heat saber.
@Krayzikk@Crimmy@Plank Sinatra

"Are you shitting me!? God-damned brass, we've lost too many personnel for this battle, my GM is half-baked thanks to that Gouf, and you forget to sound the retreat call for whoever's left in the fucking debris field? For all of my damned work in this machine, you leave me and dozens of others out here to die?" Roan roared, slamming her fist into her control console and seething in frustration. She watched on her sensors as the Federation ships pulled out of the belt, her head throbbing due to her fury and indignation at being abandoned. The pilot should've expected it by now; she was essentially a Spacenoid, despite her Earthbound rearing, and was always considered an outcast.

The other GMs were closing in on the Gouf which was crippled badly thanks to the Juggler's shots, the Zeon mobile suit having been providing cover for the Zudah pilot that was protesting the battle. As much as she knew it was kill or be killed, from what she heard over the communications network both of the pilots she had encountered earlier were much younger than most of the personnel she had ever faced. Roan wasn't very sentimental most of the time, but the mere memory of what Thunderbolt Sector was doing at one point left a very foul taste in her mouth.

Easing the mobile suit out from her cover, being sure to evade any jutting structures lest she end up wasted upon the surface of a destroyed colony, she began to approach her...comrades, slow and easy with weapons down. More than likely they'd just cut the Gouf pilot up if given the chance...

"Is that black operations GM actually complying? It wouldn't acknowledge me earlier, but fuck if I understand Minovsky particle physics..." Roan muttered to herself, remaining shield up just in case something decided to crop up. Watching the ceasefire signals emit from the GM's emergency external lights, she turned on her own, transmitting the declaration to the Gouf.

"Hey, Frenchie! Fight's over. The actual rules of warfare state that if we have enemy forces surrendering, we don't kill them on the spot. You forget we have cockpit recorders, so if someone actually decided to take a look or rat on you, they could court-martial your ass if they were enough of a busybody. Besides, if anything they might know more than enough about the colony for us to call the fleet back and get us picked up," Her call went out over the now-open comm channel. If he did shoot, there was the chance she could chuck the shield over and get it to take the heat, but she had the feeling even the slimmest of chances would be too generous for that.

She looked over at the black GM, biting her lip a little. It was an intimidating thing, bulkier and more refined than her own RGM-79 and with power she could barely imagine. It was almost on par with that mythical mobile suit, the 'Gundam' she had so oft heard about. "Pardon, but whatever happened to that crazy Zaku you were fighting? Did you lose it in the field?"

@Suku@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra

@Arclabe@Suku@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra

BRIZO BADAMISH

Her opponent had chosen to disengage. The high-tech GM was gone, leaving Brizo and her Act Zaku to hide alone within the moving field of asteroids. It was actually pretty surprising; she'd expected to spend more time jimming it up (hehehehe) with the Feddie in battle, but it looked like the growing support for a ceasefire was greater than she'd initially thought. Well, she could relate; it would be pointless continuing to fight if she couldn't bring the suit data back to the labs. She needed a ship for that, because Zakus weren't that great at solo space travel.

All her colleagues seemed reluctant to fight too. That made sense. They didn't know when they'd get their regular meals again, so it was best to conserve energy and team-up with the Feds to achieve the mutual goal of getting home for tea. Her Brawrello was probably missing her too.

And ... it wasn't too important, but she was actually a bit curious about whether or not the Federation had begun the weaponisation of Newtypes as well.

Her Act Zaku drifted towards another of the moving asteroids, thrusters roaring to life as it pushed off the gravelly surface of the rock, heat and energy flaring in its wake as it began to move out of the field. Brizo's movements, no matter how intense they may have seemed, were still admittedly rather cautious, carefully darting around to make her mobile suit less of a target in case any enemy chose to continue attacking.

She stopped at the edge of the asteroid field, red monoeye flashing.

What was going to happen?

"It is fortunate, then, that the Gouf has not attempted peaceful action until now."

Rebekah's comment was more than a little dry, and none-too-gentle in pointing out the Zeon pilot's behavior, but she didn't move to finish the enemy unit. As practical an option as it would have been, it wasn't necessary; they now outnumbered the Gouf three-to-one. She had extended her own offer of ceasefire as well and she wasn't one to go back on her word. There were larger problems to address, too.

She wasn't facing the risk of death by enemy fire anymore, she was no facing death by asphyxiation.

For it was air that was the real problem, not food. Between the small quantity of emergency rations in her cockpit and whatever stores of energy her body could burn she could survive for at least a week. Certainly more, but then she would begin to run into the issue of dehydration. A week would be long enough to accelerate the Striker in the direction of the Federation ships and most likely run into a vessel of some kind, provided she permitted inertia to carry her instead of using up the fuel she might need for maneuvering, but there was no guarantee that vessel would be friendly. Her efforts to reach allied ships might simply carry her into the hostile, trigger-happy arms of a Zeon battle group. It was a moot point anyway, given the limited amount of oxygen available. Even factoring in what was contained within her normal suit she would run out of oxygen in a matter of days.

The only solution she could see was to make her way to the colony in the hopes that there were sufficient supplies to ensure her survival, and that of the remaining Federation pilots in the area. Searching for additional survivors would further drain resources, but was a necessity. She would not leave comrades to suffocate in the void alone. Not if she could help it.

There were more immediate matters to attend to, however.

"I disengaged when it ventured deeper into the asteroid field." She answered the pilot of the Thunderbolt GM, noting movement out of the corner of her eye and turning the Striker's head to get a better look. "Continuing to engage it one-on-one was a risky proposition. It was wiser to regroup."

"It seems, however, that it has decided to return." The Striker's eyes flashed, while its external lights continued to flash a ceasefire signal. A smooth move of her arm brought her rifle to bear on the Zaku hanging at the edge of the field, a precaution against potential hostility.

The ball was in her erstwhile opponent's court, now.

@Crimmy @Plank Sinatra @Suku @Arclabe

GM POST TIME SKIP

It took awhile and with a overly tense atmosphere they managed to get each other to the colony what happened now was up to them while they were no longer fighting each other the question remained they were on neutral territory with mobile suits being quite open for view. This was just the beginning it was agreed between no one that a face to face confrontation was kind of important to see what each should do. While yes of opposing sides it was still important for people to know how they will go on by themselves and fend for themselves or work a bit longer together to at least get contact with their own factions?

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Levi sighed as she looked around they may have managed to get to the colony but she supposed now was the time to reveal themselves and how to best survive or at least worry about the other zeon pilots she wouldnt trust a feddie pilot with her back they would probably shoot her in the back once she let her guard down. Opening the hatch she stepped out her helmet lost in cockpit area showing her young face and startling blue hair for all to see. "Look the situation is tense so how about we go work a bit longer to at least get contact with our own factions than leave so we never see each other again for awhile no?" She needed to get back to earth who knew what Garma could get into this head without someone to smack sense into him now and than.

@Crimmy@Plank Sinatra@Arclabe@mcpop9@Krayzikk

Getting to the colony wasn't any difficulty, not once it was assured that their new 'friends' weren't going to take a shot at her. That wasn't to say that Rebekah let her guard down while she maneuvered efficiently towards the colony, preserving as much propellant as she possibly could. Quite the opposite, actually. The Metal Spider's heat visor was down the whole trip to watch for any enemies laying in wait, either as part of a trap or Zeonic pilots that didn't get the memo. She encountered neither, fortunately.

When she did get to the colony she landed the Striker next to the Juggler she had traveled in with, as well as the Thunderbolt-sector GM. A ceasefire didn't mean she was taking chances or she wanted to let anyone get the drop on them.

Which was why her sidearm was drawn when she opened her cockpit.

Not aimed at anyone; she knew proper trigger discipline. You didn't aim at someone you didn't intend to shoot. But the safety was off and it was in her hand, in the event anyone decided to try something cute. She hadn't put her helmet back on, so her hair was gathered into a bun hidden by the hat from her uniform instead. A low priority at the moment, but the normalcy of it was relaxing.

"So." Rebekah started. Her tone was neutral, but there was a trace of frigidity to it that spoke of her mistrust. "Has anyone actually looked around to see if there is a functioning comm system anywhere around here, yet? Let alone one that could get through the Minovsky fields out there?"

Inside the cockpit of the quirky experimental GM, one particularly bold Newtype coquette had removed his helmet and pushed back his long mop of obsidian hair, revealing the two stripes of electric blue he had dyed underneath his bangs. Dallas Grenier breathed one long exhale into the crook of his elbow before cracking open the sanctuary that was his cockpit and making his way down. Another Federation pilot had lined up right alongside him, and was standing in front of the Metal Spider.

She had a bun in her hair. And buns in...

Ah, mon Dieu.

Quelle jolie derrière.

Dallas sidled up alongside the stoic special ops pilot as though he'd known her all his life, and casually rested his elbow on one of her no-doubt-in-need-of-unknotting shoulders. He was smiling in the direction of the Zeonic mobile suits cheerfully.

"I've been distracted," the solicitous French whore said cheerfully. "But I'm sure I could spare a look or two as soon as I've been properly ensured of the honor of those assembled! I mean, not that I'm not comfortable with a ceasefire. It's just that I'm not accustomed to hearing them called ten seconds after ferocious Sieg Zeons, eh? It gives me whiplash. My poor neck..."

BRIZO BADAMISH

The Act Zaku drifted lazily into the hangar area, seemingly uncaring of the dangers that could be present within, such as the presence of three Federation mobile suits who had an easy shot at her. It would be pretty hard to dodge when inside, especially when a bad movement could crush her against a wall or ceiling. But Brizo wasn't really too worried as she expertly guided her machine further and further in, shifting its position for a landing. All the Federation pilots seemed to be getting out of their MS, so even if they did try and attack, she could still kill them more quickly than they could her. That probably wasn't going to happen though.

And besides, they still had the rest of the war to kill each other. No rush.

The Act Zaku quietly landed, its heavy metal legs thumping on contact with the ground. Brizo slowly began to unlatch herself from the seat as the machine clicked satisfyingly, and opened up the cockpit, poking her head out. The girl was still wearing her helmet, but even from a distance, it was pretty obvious what her gender was.

She quietly slipped out of the machine, glancing over at the Federation pilots.

The Act Zaku was surveyed with a steely gaze. Rebekah watched it float into the colony and set itself down, committing as many details of its design to memory as possible. She observed the pilot as well, though mostly for her own curiosity. She wasn't sure what she had expected a Newtype to look like, but she didn't quite fit the bill.

Neither, admittedly, did the Frenchman that had elected to rest an arm on her shoulders. He was greeted with a cool stare for his trouble.

"I am inclined to agree with my compatriot. While a ceasefire benefits us all, it has not escaped my notice that several of you were very active combatants up until a moment ago."

Levi gripped her side pistol a bit tighter the feddie pilots was right not that she ever admit it but they had no reason to team up no matter how temp such was the way of war. She was sure those she fought and probably killed would probably have shot first before even thinking of working together with her. "There is no point and if you dont wish to work leave I will not shoot" Levi said as she loosened her grip around the pistol. "The situation is this right now we are both stranded her on neurtral territory with that said we can't really attack each other without getting the powers above flying down on our heads so with that said ill be going to hide my gouf" She said as she turned around and walked towards her gouf it was in their courts if they wished to stop her they would if not she would find a way to contact her commanding officer by herself.

Dallas watched the tyke-bomb waltz back off to her beaten-up Gouf for a few seconds before he shrugged lazily, as if resigned to her decision, and plopped down on the foot of his GM with a lilting sigh. His eyes were closed, but he didn't need them to see the absolutely precious skyward-roll of the Lieutenant's eyes in front of him, or watch her cute little face scrunch up in disdain.

He smiled effortlessly and popped open a bottle of water he'd been keeping in his cockpit, tilting it back - along with his head - and taking a few short, quick gulps of fluid. He wasn't about to drain the bottle, especially in case there wasn't any within walking distance that he could find for later. Still, he had gotten thirsty, and a small drop or two of water ran down his bottom lip as he pulled the water away reluctantly.

Eyes still closed, the Newtype guinea pig ran a few white teeth along the left-hand surface of his bottom lip, scraping up the moisture with a contented sigh.

"Aah."

With the languid ease, grace, and utter entitlement of a spoiled kitten, Dallas patted a space on the Juggler's foot wide enough for even LTJG Fell's...AMBAC to fit comfortably.

“I am not sure how she intends to hide something that big and blue.”

The remark was directed mostly to herself, and certainly not loud enough for her new ‘friend’ with the Gouf to hear, but the other Federation pilot might have. Rebekah’s gun stayed in her hand while the Zeon pilot headed to her machine; letting her guard down around an enemy combatant was asking for trouble. It wasn't returned to its holster until the Lieutenant was satisfied of her departure, at which point she turned her attention to the other headache around her.

She eyed the space the Frenchman pointed out, thinking about whether it was large enough to sit on without getting too close, before lowering her AMBAC herself onto it carefully and shifted until she found a somewhat comfortable position. The lure of her own water bottle was tempting but she dared not waste any. Her problem was heat, not dehydration; by design normal suits didn't exactly breathe, hence why she hadn't zipped the front back up. Once she was cool she wouldn't be so thirsty.

“We find ourselves in a predicament. What was your name again, Frenchman?”

Ah, so our fair Artemis is a tease.

How haughtily, ignorantly salacious of her. A man with lesser poise or remaining integrity may have been dumbstruck by the sight of Rebekah's unzipped normal suit, but Dallas Grenier was of a more debased, lecherous stock, and merely gave the foreign Sides around him a proud look of appraisal before he let his head slump backwards and yawned lazily. His raven hair spilled back, now that it was freed of a helmet and any loose ties; the highlights of aqua underneath his bangs grew brighter, imbibing in the dim light of the catatonic colony.

Electric blue eyes rolled to the left to regard her again. Briefly, his peripheral vision strayed southwest, and his vision focused as though a film had been lifted from his face.

flash

Six senses were truly better than five.

"Dallas Grenier, Lieutenant, Newtype test pilot, a deplorable slut plucked from the depths of the Seine. Charmed to meet you, ma rossignol, but I beg to differ. I think we're in the most comfortable position out of anyone on this colony." The French pilot's smile became conspiratorial. "These Zeeks, these opportunistic Zabi bastards, weren't waiting for our fleet all the way out here, near a neutral Side, without a good reason, right? There's a Federation base somewhere that they wanted cleaned up - a base that would no doubt take us in, give or take a few days of uncomfortable vetting. There's a Federation embassy at Side 6, too. We could be there in a couple days, maybe sooner if we're picked up by locals. No doubt the vetting there would involve a hotel, a hot shower, and complementary breakfast, but who knows when we'd see the front lines again."

The Newtype's cutting smile made his way to Rebekah.

"I still have your GM's beam rifle. And the Balls. If they did try to stop us, I could clean them out before you could say Marianne and be on our way. We could make either trip with little risk."