What do we have here? [Tamasha!]

[Rhi-Rhi]

Keziah had scheduled a casual little meeting with her new mentee, a boy who seemed like he would be...a rather interesting case. Authority issues, acted before he thought, but with a fuckton of potential and a rare ability. He was the sort of kid the Citadel would make sure made it through the program, one way or the other. Besides, none of those faults were anything they hadn't encountered in plenty of other candidates; some of their current Pilots had been candidates just like that.

Yamato, of course, was a little different in that he'd gone poking his nose into things he shouldn't have--and that both benefited him and weighed against him. On the one hand, he was a valuable because he'd pointed out several insecurities that had since been patched and someone with that kind of skill so young could be a strong asset to the tech department if he passed. On the other hand, if he slipped up...

And it also meant he would be carefully watched, monitored for loyalty. He'd been reading some dangerous stuff, and they did not want to bring in someone who could grow up to be a Gospel.

But, that was just background. Keziah wanted to focus on the here, the now, and the future, but mostly the present for this meeting. She sent the boy an email giving him the time and place and made sure to arrive early herself.

Keziah found a table in the cafeteria and set a folder down onto it, filled with a stack of papers. History exams from her earlier classes. As she waited for Yamato to arrive, she focused on grading them. As was the case most days, she was out of uniform and dressed in street clothes, an off-the-shoulder blouse, boot-cut jeans, and a pair of heeled boots.

Look for the woman with the bright pink hair and eye patch, she'd said toward the end of the email. She was usually pretty damned easy to find.

[Anonymous]

Look for the woman with the bright pink hair and eye patch. What kind of directions were those? And yet, as Yamato threaded his way into the cafeteria and gazed over the sea of tables, he found his eyes drawn immediately to the bright splash of colour. Oh. Well, he supposed they weren't that bad after all. No one could accuse his new mentor of blending in.

Having found the person he was supposed to meet, he nevertheless found himself hesitating. All of a sudden there was a tight knot of nerves in the center of his chest. Was it normal to be assigned a mentor this soon? He hadn't even been here a full day. All he'd had time to do so far was check out his dorm room, ascertain that his roommate was currently out, and check his messages, which was when the email from his mentor had popped up. That had been fast. Uncomfortably aware of his history and the events that had brought him here, Yamato found himself wondering if this was the Dragons' way of keeping extra-close tabs on him. And imagining - unpleasantly - what kind of formidable disciplinarian they might have landed him with.

Well, there was nothing for it. He was already running a few minutes late - had made a couple of wrong turns somewhere along the way and floundered for a few minutes before finding his way back on track - and it was probably best not to antagonize his new mentor further. He forced his feet into motion, coming to a stop before the woman with the bright pink mullet. Pilot Fabel, the mail had been addressed.

Mentor and mentee sized each other up for a brief, crucial moment. Then Yamato took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full (and not particularly impressive) height of five feet and four inches. "You wanted to see me? Maam." he added, half-belatedly.

[Rhi-Rhi]

Keziah made one final note on the paper she was grading, a mark done in red pen, and then tucked it away back into the folder. She'd hardly put even a dent into her workload but that was alright!

"You bet I did," she said with a grin, looking up at him with her one eye. He was a small kid, not very tall, gangly. Made sense for someone who spent so much time on a computer. "Yamato Hishiko, correct? Here, go ahead, why don't you take a seat? I'm Pilot Noble Keziah Fabel, but you can just call me Pilot Fabel."

She'd give the kid some credit--it wasn't a bad start. Sure he was a little late, but that wasn't something he was going to punished for on the first day. The ATC was huge and it was especially overwhelming the first few days, and then on top of that was the shock of a radical lifestyle change, and that's what Stage One was all about: adapting. The important thing was he'd made it and shown her respect.

Folding her hands on the table, she studied him openly. "So as you're aware, I've decided to take you under my wing. It's a little early, I know; you've hardly even settled in. But I like to meet my proteges as soon as possible because I know this can be a trying period, and I want you to understand that if if you ever need anything, I'm here to help you."

[Anonymous]

Yamato opened his mouth and then closed it again. Um. Whatever he'd been expecting, this wasn't it. He'd feared reprimands, harsh reminders, intimidation. Not...not this suprisingly mellow woman with the pleasant voice and wide grin.

To cover his confusion, he nodded in response to her suggestion that he take a seat. "Uhm...o-okay." He slid into the chair across from her and sat, albeit awkwardly, and folded his hands on the table before him.

He took another long look at her, trying to figure out what kind of person he'd be working with for the next five to six years - assuming he made it that long, of course. The eyepatch gave him pause for thought, mostly because his imagination insisted on producing unpleasant and thoroughly sinister theories as to how she might have lost the eye to begin with. But otherwise, though reading people was hardly his forte, he couldn't detect any irony in her words, or find anything that suggested she wasn't being sincere.

And still, he couldn't relax. It wasn't his fault, after the things you heard about the Pilots - especially some of the things he'd unearthed during his ill-fated investigations - it was asking a lot for him to let down his guard and trust this woman. Not quite yet, anyway.

Yamato grinned, awkwardly, and resorted to one of his usual tactics - cracking a joke to lighten the situation. "Well...I don't suppose you have a map? I've gotten lost like five times already."

[Rhi-Rhi]

"Well, now that you mention it..."

Keziah shifted a little, reaching into her pocket, and a second later she produced a new cell phone. It was the stand issue one that all Pilot Candidates got upon entering the Program and was a rather important tool. They could look up their schedule, check their scores, and any important messages, notices, and updates were sent through it. They could also keep in contact with other candidates, as well, and check things online. The usual things, but programmed for life in the ATC.

"Ta-da! Your new phone. I believe it has a directory programmed in," she said with a wry smile as she dangled the phone in front of him, offering it. It was kind of a necessity; the place was like a warren! "It also has your schedule already programmed in. Oh, I also highly recommend getting into the habit of keeping it on silent. Any super important, urgent messages will bypass that setting."

She paused for a moment, thinking, and then settled back in her seat. "Ah, lookit me, I've just been talking your ear off! Enough about that. You got any questions for me, hon?" Really, she was just hoping to relax him. There was rarely a middle ground; the kids either acted like they were celebrities or monsters waiting to take a chunk out of them. From what she gleaned of the thoughts he was bouncing around, he fell into the latter camp.

[Anonymous]

Yamato's eyes widened as he received the small device from Keziah. Sweet! His own phone and other electronic paraphernilia had been confiscated at the time of entry. He hadn't realized until right now how naked he'd been feeling without those familiar items on his person. His fingers automatically flicked it open and skated over the interface, perusing the menu and features with an ease borne of long practice. He could have spent the next ten minutes exploring what it had to offer, but remembered the company he was in and looked up, flushing belatedly.

"Thanks! That's - I mean - uh, this is going to be really useful, I can tell." And he was sure it would. It was amazing (and probably also a little sad) how much better he felt now that he had a piece of something electronic in his hands again.

Questions, huh? Yamato settled awkwardly back into his chair. Keziah had shown no signs of wanting to bite his head off, yet, and so after a moment of turning the phone over in his hands, he decided to risk asking about something that had been weighing on his mind. "Actually - I was kinda wondering about the basic physical program. You know, the military training. You see, I'm - " A scrawny brat with all the upper body strength of a wet noodle? his mind supplied helpfully. Almost certain to flunk out, assuming I don't get killed first?

Geez, look at him. Five minutes into the meeting and he was already losing the power of speech. Yamato sat up a little straighter, and added, in a slightly firmer voice, "Well, anything you could tell me about it would be very helpful. Maam."

[Rhi-Rhi]

"You're worried you'll flunk it," Keziah said with a wry smile.

Even if the kid hadn't been thinking so loudly, it was easy enough to guess at his worry. It was a common one. They got kids from all over here, of all shapes and sizes and body types and ages. No one came in here already bulked up--or they did, but rarely. Mostly they were just your average citizen who had no more physical training than high school gym. Needless to say, it was a common fear.

"You'll be fine. Many of our Pilots started out just like you. Scrawny, awkward--ah." She paused and gave a laugh. "Not that I'm calling you scrawny and awkward, hon, but just as an example. The program will push you and frustrate you and you'll probably be too sore to walk properly some days, but you won't be forced to do more than you're physically--and safely--able to handle." She smiled. The last thing they needed was their candidates injuring themselves by improperly lifting weights or something stupidly irresponsible like that!

"You'll build yourself up gradually. You'll work a lot on your endurance, stamina, and strength, but incrementally. No one's going to ask you to bench press a hundred pounds until you've worked yourself up to it. So for now, you'll start with what you can handle, even if that's just two pounds." Which seemed likely for this boy. "But most of the other candidates are like you--totally green, no experience, haven't even looked at a gym."