(OOC: You mentioned in your post before the last one that we were already seated in a diner rather than still driving.)<br/><br/>Beth smiled. “Complex or not, I think most people would envy your focus in pursuing your dream. A lot of people our age don’t really know what they want out of life—for better or for worse we’re doing just what we like.<br/><br/>“Although I suppose we’ve got a bit of an unfair advantage in terms of finding a purpose—there’s probably any number of people who’d love to be part of the MBF, but never get a shot at it and have to settle. I wish the media wouldn’t exaggerate how glamorous all this is supposed to be. Rarely any mention of all the countless hours working in a hangar for those who don’t have a crew, or running exercises and drills, or programming and reprogramming control systems to get it just right...” That last had occupied a good part of Beth’s first year—she still remembered how sluggish her original mech had felt after she had gotten a hold of the<em>Lissa,</em>which had been designed to her specifications.