“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 [i]other[/i] 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 [s]her AMBAC[/s] 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 [i]breathe[/i], 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?”