Est-ce que tu me chies dessus? On a perdu trop de personnel pour cette bataille, mon GM est à moitié cuit grâce à ce Gouf, et tu oublies de sonner l'appel à la retraite pour qui est parti dans ce putain de champ de débris? Pour tout mon damné travail dans cette machine, tu me laisses mourir, moi et des dizaines d'autres ici? Roan rugissait, se claquait le poing dans sa console de contrôle et se sentait dans la frustration. Elle a regardé ses capteurs lorsque les navires de la Fédération se sont retirés de la ceinture, la tête battante en raison de sa fureur et de son indignation à être abandonnés. Le pilote aurait dû s'y attendre à l'heure actuelle; elle était essentiellement un Spacenoid, malgré son élevage terrestre, et était toujours considérée comme un parias.
Les autres GM se refermaient sur le Gouf qui était gravement paralysé grâce aux tirs du Juggler, le costume mobile Zeon ayant assuré la couverture du pilote de Zudah qui protestait contre la bataille. Même si elle savait qu'il s'agissait d'un meurtre ou d'un meurtre, d'après ce qu'elle a entendu sur le réseau de communications, les deux pilotes qu'elle avait rencontrés plus tôt étaient beaucoup plus jeunes que la plupart du personnel qu'elle n'avait jamais rencontré. Roan n'était pas très sentimentale la plupart du temps, mais le simple souvenir de ce que Thunderbolt Sector faisait à un moment a laissé un goût très mauvais dans sa bouche.
En adoucissant le costume mobile de sa couverture, étant sûr d'échapper à toute structure de jutage de peur qu'elle ne finisse gaspillée à la surface d'une colonie détruite, elle a commencé à s'approcher de ses... camarades, lent et facile avec des armes vers le bas. Plus que probable qu'ils couperaient le pilote du Gouf si on leur donnait la chance...
"Est-ce que les opérations noires GM se conforment réellement? Il ne me reconnaîtrait pas plus tôt, mais baise si je comprends la physique des particules de Minovsky... » Roan murmura à elle-même, restant bouclier juste au cas où quelque chose déciderait de se relever. En regardant les signaux de cessez-le-feu émis par les feux extérieurs d'urgence du GM, elle s'est éteinte toute seule, transmettant la déclaration au Gouf.
"Hé, Frenchie! Le combat est fini. Les règles réelles de la guerre stipulent que si nous avons des forces ennemies se rendant, nous ne les tuons pas sur place. Vous oubliez que nous avons des enregistreurs de cockpit, donc si quelqu'un a vraiment décidé de jeter un coup d'oeil ou de rat sur vous, ils pourraient vous cour martialer le cul s'ils étaient assez occupés. D'ailleurs, s'ils en savent plus que assez sur la colonie pour que nous rappelions la flotte et nous ramenions », a-t-elle rappelé par le canal de communication maintenant ouvert. S'il avait tiré, il y avait la chance qu'elle puisse jeter le bouclier et l'obtenir pour prendre la chaleur, mais elle avait le sentiment même le plus mince des chances serait trop généreux pour cela.
Elle a regardé le GM noir, mordant un peu sa lèvre. C'était une chose intimidante, plus volumineuse et plus raffinée que son propre RGM-79 et avec le pouvoir qu'elle pouvait à peine imaginer. C'était presque au même niveau que ce costume mobile mythique, le 'Gundam' dont elle avait tellement entendu parler. "Pardon, mais qu'est-il arrivé à ce Zaku fou que tu combattais? Est-ce que tu l'as perdu sur le terrain?"
Name: Roan Oakley
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Appearance: Roan is roughly 5'9", enough to be considered on the taller end of the spectrum, but her figure is very unremarkable with little curves, though in uniform her slight bottom-heaviness is more easily noted. Her is made out into a mane of gentle spikes, edged like waves, and colored a light blond that fades to a pale platinum at the ends. Her eyes are ringed a little, and some say it's from lack of sleep, but the green orbs are always alert and searching no matter what her expression may look like. Her shoulders droop often and she seems the exact opposite of what a lot of Federation pilots are supposed to be, but her skill should not be judged on appearances alone.
Origin: Roan is considered an oddity, because her birth certificate actually lists her as coming from the space colony Londonian whereas her place of residence, until her induction into the military, was a relatively small city far removed from most other Federation operations. As such, Roan and the populace have an abject view of the issues that have been plaguing the colonies and the Federation as a whole, having not relied on the Federation or too much more than the local government for much in years. The rumor is, and the one she doesn't try to wave away, is that her parents brought her down from the colonies so she wouldn't be referred to as a 'Spacenoid' or be treated as someone from the space colonies. This has not been entirely avoided however, as it shows up on her records whenever she transfers units.
Faction: Currently aligned with the Federation, as part of its EFSF mobile suit divisions.
Newtype: Possible yes. She has exhibited a much higher level of 3D spatial awareness than most candidates, allowing her to 'think' in 3D and plan accordingly.
Personality: The best old age word that could be used to describe her is 'hick.' Not in the way of the Old South in what used to be America, but instead to refer to someone that is insular or uninformed. Roan is known to not particularly care about the Federation's interests, nor the entirety of the conflict with Zeon during the One Year War, and is often mocked and derided for not buying into the whole patriot aspect of the military. In fact, she is oftentimes suggested to be a spy with her aloof attitude and apathetic expression, using her colony heritage against her whenever she fails to respond appropriately. Most of this however rolls off of her shoulders as she's not in it for the patriotism or glory, but more to find herself and understand what's going on outside the sphere of her hometown. This is not to say she's completely uneducated; in fact, so far as academics go, she's fairly top-notch.
Backstory: Having grown up in what could be considered a future-type backwoods city, a modern era center where most everything was up to date and yet kept away from the conflict overtaking the rest of the Earth Federation's known holdings, Roan could've been considered a bit sheltered compared to most of the Federation's enlisted personnel. She knew relatively little of the Federation's stance against Zeon and of Zeon's intentions, but it wasn't due to completely willful ignorance. Having seen mobile suit combat on the news feed and seen what took place between the two factions, she decided to broaden her horizon by moving to the place where raw, human emotion and the passionate wills of the people existed, perhaps even twisted to be unrecognizable, and to experience what had been going on herself. Her upbringing and file almost had her canned as a ground troop, an easy sacrifice for the cause, but her skill, intelligence, and fast reflexes quickly forced the Federation to preclude her from fodder. The academy, though rife with bullying, threats, and overall prejudice towards her birth status and her upbringing in the furthest place from the frontlines besides the bourgeois, was the proper kind of challenge for her to try and extend her skillset. Thus, she found during mobile suit simulated exercises and tactical analyses classes that her perception as a whole was much greater than the average person, and on a level above those who had a good grasp of awareness above them. Despite her spacey attitude, this earned her the grudging respect of some of her fellow pilot trainees, and lead to early success in her initial combat sorties. The horrors of war have reached her, but she doesn't lock them away. She prefers to ruminate on them and mourn quietly, lest the bloodbath and madness suck her in.
Other Info: Not a sweets person, but loves fish and fruit. Fish and chips is her favorite ration meal. Writes in her spare time. Doodles in the same notebook. Listens to a variety of music. Can be found in time between sorties on the observation decks, gazing into space.
RGM-79 GM, specifically a model used in the Thunderbolt Sector. Equipped with a Core Block system, and can be fashioned with a thruster pack equipped with two sub arms which are generally used to hold a pair of shields, a double-barreled beam weapon, and the standard issue beam spray gun.
Lately, it seems she's been trying to add different weapons to her arsenal and tactics. Chaff and minovsky particle dispersal have been one set of unusual equipment she's attempted to have applied, as well as small missile or rocket packs or an extra beam spray gun.