Rowan listened to Stella's words. To him, it sounded as though she was more aligned with the views of the people aboard the ship itself, or at least more innocent to their cause or reasoning, if not buying into it. Her comments about lacking a good life, and seemingly having no drive or motivation of her own to do anything was troubling, in a way. He was a firm and strong believer in the idea of self-determination, and had never met anyone who didn't have their own motivation to do anything.
It was clear that she was, for the moment at least, content to remain here, and that it would take more than a simple conversation to bring out any dissenting feeling within the girl. He didn't know enough about her to know where any loyalties of any kind were, and if he could change her mind. And with the imminent patrol mission, he'd miss his chance to get out if he didn't go now.
"I guess I'd better let you get on," he said with a gentle nod, excusing himself. "I'll see you in the hangar later, when we launch".

Stepping away, he headed for the ready room to change into his pilots' suit to prepare for the sortie. As he did, he ran ideas through his head. 
If he wanted to head for the ship belonging to the opposition - and his potential allies - he'd need the location. The patrol would be just that; a circuit around the immediate area, and not an attack on the oppositions' ship. 
The location of the vessel should be known - if other mobile suits and support craft had engaged, then it should be stored in their OS file and flight recorders. He could gain access to the data, plot it into his machines' flight computer, and then rendezvous with the other ship. 
Adjusting the last few seals on his suit, he resolved himself to the course of action, and strode out from the ready room and into the hangar. His Zeta Plus, in its' normal low-viz grey, was being prepped for launch; hoses were being disconnected and panels closed up from the regular maintenance. He exchanged greetings with the maintenance people, before checking in the cockpit. Everything was normal, and he made a show of test-checking some equipment, before climbing out again, and heading for one of the Zeon-like suits - Geara Zulu's, he'd heard them called - stood at rest around the hangar. Angelo's personal suit looked similar, but had a paintjob as distinctive as the main himself, in pink and purple. The machine was also modified with dangerous-looking claws on each arm instead of hands, more impressive shoulder armour, and of all things, [i]high heels[/i].
"Hey, man! There's an issue with my flight computer," he called to the technician maintaining one of the more conventional machines, with a carefree and confident demeanour and a rapid-fire string of words, keeping eye contact reassuring the worker with a pat on the shoulder as he spoke, making a confidence ploy to get him through. "I haven't got the latest set of updated references and terrain after being thrown through all this crazy distortion and interference. I don't wanna screw up the mission because my suit isn't up to spec, so I think it'd be best for everyone if I avoided the wrath of Mr Sauper and company by updating the info on my Gundam".
Swinging himself into the seat, he quickly booted up the mobile suits' system, tapping through screens and copying the information down onto his personal PDA, keeping up a stream of chat and talk with the technician as he did, and then shutting off the machine as soon as he was done. 
"Thanks, man - you've been a lifesaver. If this wasn't done, well - you know how it can be, right?"
He quickly left the bemused man behind, and climbed back into the Zeta C1's cockpit, quickly updating the navigational info. By the time he was done, the order to launch had come through, and the Mass-Production Zeta Plus was elevated to launch position and catapulted off into the skies. 
Almost as soon as the machine was airborne, Rowan felt a familiar thrill of excitement tingle through his veins. He'd missed piloting, and felt near-helpless and uncertain while on the ship. Now he was back in his mobile suit, he felt back in control, and able to actually influence his own course of action, rather than being a captive. 
Hitting controls, he transformed the sleek mobile suit into it's aircraft mode, parts switching and sliding with sophisticated ease and engineering. More agile in the atmosphere and now capable of powered flight, the machine was able to quickly leave the ship behind.
"All right," he murmured to himself, putting the machine into a steady climbing bank, leaving the vessel behind. "Let's get this show on the road."
Accelerating with a touch of throttle, he pointed the smart beam-gun that made the machines' nose in the right direction for the patrol, and began the first leg of his already plotted route. As soon as he reached the leg that took him nearest to the 'enemy' location, he'd fake a communications scare and go off route. As soon as he had a good fix, he'd drop below radar altitude and scram for the other ship at high speed, only climbing when he was within visual distance, and then contacting them to broadcast his own intentions.

All he had to do now was hope it would work, and he didn't get shot down.