Work Text:
Lieutenant Colonel Challia Bull looked down at the stack of photographs his subordinate had placed on his desk. "What is this?"
"Candidates," she said. "To recruit to pilot the GQuuuuuux. Known and suspected Newtypes. Vice Admiral Kycilia wants your impressions."
Challia flipped through the photos on top of the pile. Nobody stood out as extraordinary. He set one aside — a young man of slight build labeled "X.O." — and stared at the one beneath it.
Labeled "K.B.," it depicted a boy of around middle school or high school age. His blue hair was tousled by wind resistance as he piloted a petit mobile suit in some kind of school event. The back of Challia Bull's neck began to prickle uncomfortably, intensifying the longer he looked at the photograph.
Finally, he handed the X.O. photo to the woman. "I have a good feeling about this one," he said. Then he held up the other. "End surveillance of this one." He tore the photograph in half and dropped the pieces in a wastebasket.
His subordinate quirked an eyebrow. "Sir?"
Challia shook his head. "He'll be of no use to us. Waste of resources."
She shrugged. "I'll pass on the recommendation."
As the door slid shut behind her, Challia poured himself a drink and fervently hoped she did. He didn't understand what he'd felt when he looked at the picture of that boy, but he knew deadly danger when it looked him in the face.