Fare thee well, faithful friend [OPEN]

[we_deliver]

Anyone in Trudy's path on her way to the hangar today would notice an uncharacteristic slump in her shoulders, a shuffle in her step. She seemed despondent, and while she greeted any of her soldiers with the proper protocol, it didn't come with the usual smiles and easy banter

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[paragonspectre]

Shepard could hardly claim to be the kind of person who wouldn't randomly approach a stranger who looked like they needed directions, but she usually tried to at least be gentle about approaching people she didn't know who looked unhappy for one reason or another. That rule in mind, she'd been walking through the hangar to get back to Normandy when she noticed the woman by the aircraft that looked like it had seen better days.

She paused, before turning to walk up to the other woman, careful to make her footsteps audible and stopping a respectable distance away, crossing her arms and looking over the damage with an appraising eye.

"Looks like you've had some good times," she commented, keeping her tone light.

[we_deliver]

It was only because the other woman had approached so obviously that Trudy didn't jump out of her skin when she spoke - while she had picked up on the footsteps, her attention was mostly in memory.

She dropped her hand from the nose of the chopper and turned. "Good times, interesting times..." she shrugged, as if to say there wasn't much difference. The woman looked familiar - Trudy could swear she'd seen her before, but couldn't place the face. "I don't think we've met. General Trudy Chacon, Starfighter Command." She stepped forward and extended her hand.

[paragonspectre]

She stepped forward to grasp Trudy's hand, giving her a firm handshake.

"Commander Shepard, former Systems Alliance Navy. Pleased to meet you." As far as part of her was concerned she was still in the Navy, and obviously she'd left out her Spectre status, but without the Citadel Council or any of her credentials, she wasn't really in the mood for throwing around all her obnoxious titles. Once a marine always a marine, though, which explained why when released from the handshake she still held herself like an officer.

"Sorry if I interrupted, I'm just the new kid on the block and thought it was about time I started getting to know the residents."

[we_deliver]

"Navy, huh? I'm a Marine myself - this was my baby for a long while." She looked back over her shoulder at the Samson, her face settling into sad lines again. "But the Corp isn't going to come looking for me here, not after the Ohm blew everything up, so I've got myself a mess of pilots now."

There was a fondness to her voice when she talked about her soldiers, pride in the set of her shoulders under the uniform.

[zaftard]

Yzak was in the hangar (and oh boy, was he going to be in the hangar often after the other day), so was especially alert for anybody else who might be there. When he spotter Trudy, he stayed silent until she seemed a little easier to approach - particularly after her words.

"General," he greeted, giving a look to the Samson.

[we_deliver]

"Lieutenant," Trudy responded in kind. She wasn't sure what she could say beyond that - Yzak had been standing there when she let her temper get the better of her and said a few things that weren't... appropriate. "Who was that other pilot I saw you talking to? New recruit? Not the idiots, I mean, I know who they were."

[zaftard]

"Don't we all," he replied dryly, crossing his arms with a huff. "And here I was hoping we wouldn't have any big problems like that."

But enough about them. Thinking about the incident would only wind up pissing him off again - and he was quite easy to piss off when it came to things like that. "But to answer your question, yes. Our new recruit is Dearka Elthman, a friend and partner from home. He served under my team."

[we_deliver]

"Good pilot?" Trudy asked, although she knew she didn't need to. All of her mobile suit pilots had proved themselves time and again - even Cowabunga, who hadn't set foot in a suit before he was recruited, was turning out to be a fine soldier. "I'll look forward to seeing him in training."

[yubyubcommander]

"It's hard to let go of a craft that's been with you through so much, isn't it?" Wedge asked as he stepped up to stand next to Trudy, his bomber jacket hanging open over his flight suit, which was smeared with grease and other mechanical fluids. Apparently he'd been doing some work on his fighter. He reached out to lay a hand on the nose of the Samson.

"Looks like you guys had some close calls."

[we_deliver]

She smiled - it wasn't a very happy smile, but at least she wasn't staring pensively at the chopper anymore. "I tried to tango with Quaritch's shuttle bomber," she said. "He won."

He thumb smudged some of the shoot on the nose. "If it weren't for Stacy I wouldn't be standing here. He had missiles."

[yubyubcommander]

"Sounds like a rough time." Wedge returned the expression, shaking his head. Dying in combat was just a risk you accepted after a while.

"I'm glad you're here, at least. Makes things a bit easier for the rest of us, I think. Having someone who knows what they're doing in charge."

[we_deliver]

"That's kind of relative," Trudy said. There were still times when she didn't think she was the best person for the job, when she was tempted to shunt it back over to Wedge. But then she forced herself to think about what that would do to the chain of command, and to the pilots, and stopped considering it. "There are some days I wish you'd never gotten re-podded. Usually when Soryu is jumping on my last nerve."

[mynameisax]

Ax paused in the door of the hanger, scanning the visible areas for the target of his currently ship-wide search. He had only investigated this area a few times, but he was well-aware that it was full of places that could hide a human. Fortunately, the one he was looking for was not inside one of the many machines within the hanger, but was easily discovered after only a few minutes exploration.

< Pardon me, General, > he began politely. < May I speak to you for a moment? >

[we_deliver]

Thoughtspeak didn't give her a direction the voice was coming from, although it did give her a species to look for. She'd only heard something like this once before, so when she spotted the Andalite, she pulled her hand off the chopper and straightened.

"Don't see why not," she said. "I've got the time."

[mynameisax]

< Thank you General Chacon, > Ax said, moving forward to a distance more appropriate for conversation and standing at attention. < I will not take much of your time. I understand that you are in charge of Starfighter Command, and I would be interested in volunteering my services. While I did not have the chance to complete my training with the Andalite military, I did complete enough to be at least a competent pilot of most known space- and aircraft in my reality. If there is a ship here capable of carrying me in the cockpit, I will immediately seek to organize my Security and Engineering duties such that I can participate in your training exercises. >

[we_deliver]

"You're in Security and Engineering already?" Trudy asked - first thing out of her mouth. She filed that information away, making a note to ask the department heads about him. "That's a lot of time commitment - was it Cadet when you left?"

Trudy had seen only one of his species before, so she tried to be subtle about looking at the differences. "Sorry if it's rude, but are you related to Elfangor? I remember him saying he was military. A pilot."

Kind of a coincidence. Or most of his species was military.

[re_engineer]

Angie headed down to the hanger, where she had told Trudy she'd meet her. It didn't take long to find her, thankfully, and Angie touched down about twenty feet away, walking closer slowly. "General," she said by way of greeting, nodding to her.

[we_deliver]

Most of the few hours between Trudy's arrival and Angie's in the hangar were spent gutting the Samson. Engine parts and tins of fluid were scattered underneath the belly of the craft, and a large sheet of metal that appeared to be the lower access hatch was kicked over to one side.

Trudy looked down at her hands, covered in grease, then at her uniform pants and made a face, hunting for something to wipe them off on. "Angie, right?" She hadn't expected a cyborg, or whatever Angie was, but the weirdness of this crew no longer bothered her. "Give me a second to clean up."

She found a disused rag in one corner of the cargo bay and began scrubbing her hands clean.

[re_engineer]

The armor was easier to deal with given most of the ship, honestly, so Angie tended to stay in it. She nodded, staying a few steps back. "I am." She looked over the shot up craft and shook her head. "Damn. Ran into something bigger and nastier, huh?"

[we_deliver]

"Yeah - missiles, they're a bitch. I had already taken a hit to the engine so it was probably a foregone conclusion, but..."

But it was painful. Still, Trudy held out a semi-clean hand for Angie to shake. "Thanks for doing this for me - Kang's a good friend."