[color=silver][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190710/f8f5529778232e852a3c6459a0391bd8.png[/img][/center]
[right][hr][color=white][b][b]Smith's Rest | Medical Offices[/b][/b][/color]
January 16th, 2677[hr][/right]
[indent][indent][indent]

The waiting room was smaller than Mara would've liked. There were too many pilots crammed in there and barely enough space to accommodate them all. She walked passed the tiny, spartan chairs and instead chose to stand, back resting against the wall. From her vantage point she was able to get a good look as the group as a whole, and she found herself cracking a grin.

They were as motley a bunch as any she'd seen before: wasters, company men and guns for hire, all trapped in uncomfortable proximity. No sane person could gather people like [i]this[/i] and think it would work. Graham had thrown together a powder keg just waiting to go off. Without some mastermind to stitch all its parts together, she hadn't a clue how their outfit would sustain itself.

[color=7f99f6][i]'Here's hoping the commander's the genius he thinks he is,'[/i][/color] She thought to herself. [i][color=7f99f6]'I didn't come all this way just to watch it all burn.'[/color][/i]

Maybe it was her optimism showing, but for reasons only God could know, she had faith in Graham to get it done. And if he couldn't? If it all came crashing down around her ears? It'd be a heckuva show, and she could rest easy knowing none of it was on her shoulders. After all, she was the best pilot here- just factually speaking, really- so if everything went sideways, it couldn't be her fault.

Not everyone shared her self-assuredness, of course. Mara kept glancing out of the side of one eye at one of the other pilots: a woman not much older than her and seated nearby, muttering nervously under her breath in a language Mara didn't know. She recognized the sound of it as similar in structure to Hazaragi, but she couldn't place it exactly- maybe if she'd bothered to learn it when they in Hazaristan, but...

[color=7f99f6]"Never much liked goin' to the doctor myself,"[/color] She said to no one in particular, her head back against the wall and her gaze turned up to the ceiling. [color=7f99f6]"The lights are too bright, its always freakin' cold, and the needles? You do not want me to get started on the needles."[/color] She shot a look over to Taraneh, a twinkle in her eye. [color=7f99f6]"Socked my poor company doctor in the jaw the first time he stuck me with a syringe full'a nanobots. Thankful for him, seein' as he saved my leg, but man, I do not like needles." [/color]

Out of the corner of her vision she spotted her brother rolling out of his chair and rising to stretch. Demetrius gave a quick look around the room before marching toward the hallway, earphones pumping synthetic garbage into his skull as he wandered off. Mara had half a mind to go grab him, but she thought better of it. She wasn't going to miss her evaluation because she was busy covering for that little gremlin.
[/indent][/indent][/indent][/color]