After the top brass left, Rooney pulled out a pack of cigs and his old lighter lighting a smoke before really looking at everyone in earnest. As he inhaled, the shaking of his hands stopped and the noise in his head quieted a bit. There were a few kids here, way more than he expected there to be (which would be 0). Maybe they were scouted for piloting Framewerks on their home planets before they were even old enough to consider joining the military. Maybe other planets had lower age limits for doing this stuff. Or perhaps the PDF stopped giving a damn about ethics and child labor when it came to battling the Cruxi. Either way, it really didn't matter anymore.

"Roger Rooney. I pilot Yeager." Not very well yet, but that was beside the point. He'd barely gotten ahold of the basics of moving the damn thing competently before getting shoved here. Did everyone have as little preparation as himself, or was it a potluck? Knowing his luck, everyone had years of practice and could work a Framewerk with their eyes shut. Well, everyone but the girl bawling her eyes out. She didn't look fit to recite a play in front of a class of teenagers, let alone pilot a Framewerk in the war. Rooney took another drag of his cigarette.

"So something's been bothering me. This test makes not a lick of sense. We're supposed to be working together as a team, right? Then why have us fight against one another for some leadership position? I get that it's good if we know what one another can do, but by making our first real interaction a cutthroat competition, we'll only be more disposed to hate each other. Not to mention that fightin' ability don't translate to being a good leader." Another drag of his cigarette. "Really seems like the worst way to introduce us, really."