A fox-like ear flicked about to face John Tyrell before the woman it was attached to could turn her head or body to find the source of the voice, which she did, “ah, heard me, did you?” Her tail twitched, a little embarrassed. Lay’arra accepted the handshake happily, her own grip firm. “Lay’arra. Thanks for the welcome.” Call sign? Hmm.
She eyed his mech as he pointed it out, “heh, no frills, but I bet everything works. The A/C in my old bucket o’ bolts likes to go out on me. Maybe I can finally get that fixed..” the fox-like woman turned and pointed to her painted Lynx-DRGN. Even as she spoke, she seemed prideful, “my
Violet Dragoon’s seen better days, but that’s what you get on Grael II.” No one recognized the local name for the planet, she’d learned that already. “I’ll probably have to spend some time with the engineering team.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad call sign. Dragoon,” the Anhur woman rubbed a thumb lightly under her chin, seeming satisfied with herself. “We didn’t really have call signs back in the salvage teams. Guess they were never that worried about bandits investigating anyone." The young woman turned from gazing at her head from gazing at her mech to look at John, "you must be from some proper military somewhere, then?"
@Expendable