It's one of those uncommon, pleasant afternoons in Southern where it's sunny and warm without feeling like you're boiling inside an oven. M'noq has just ducked briefly into the living caverns and is on his way back out, staring at a list in his hand. He isn't really looking where he's going, unfortunately, just sort of wandering in the general direction of Ravaith, who is sprawled out in the sun, napping. It was a busy morning, so it's a perfect time for dragons to rest up and recharge.

D'ex's uniform is crisp and clean, Zynth's hide freshly oiled, though it might be clear as the pair swoops down into the bowl that they have been searching around for quite a while. Dust billows slightly around the blue as he lands, his rider already slipping off and moving, "Hey! Woa!" One hand is up, trying to hail the brown rider, "Mister M'noq?!" A peice of paper is held up and waved, "Transfer request sir! Hey yo!" D'ex was making an effort to be ovious, though he didn't mean to ruin whatever pleasant afternoon that M'noq had been having, the sharp jerk to the red head's movements and the tightness is the call might suggest that his day had been less than stellar.

A blue dragon landing quite near you is usually enough to attract someone's attention, especially if the landing is accompanied by a cloud of dust. He coughs, waving off the dust. "Transfer request? who's it for?" he takes the piece of paper, but before he looks at it, he looks at the man delivering it. "You look familiar. One of the last weyrling class, right?" It wasn't that big a class, and he worked with most of them, since Lynx was the mentor wing. "Ah… D'ex, right? They have you on delivery runs today?"

The paper is waved again, and held out as he reaches the wingleader, "Huh?! What? That's right. D'ex. Yes sir, I'm not on deliver, I just got off of sweeps." True enough, or close enough, he'd had sweeps this morning anyway, not actually recantly. A glance is thrown back toward Zynth, a touch of uneasiness flickering through the man, "My transfer request sir. Ours. We would like to be removed from Siberian." There is a pause, another glance toward the blue. "Please." The word is forced, but sincere. "Please get us out of Siberian. Sir."

M'noq takes a look at the piece of paper then. "Oh, right. Why do you want out of Siberian? Lots of experienced riders there, and they run tight formations in Threadfall." Of course, it's the last stop before retirement from the fighting wings for many of them. "So, you have a wing in mind that you want to transfer to? Or are you just ambushing random wingleaders as they come out of the living caverns? Should I warn K'vvan and L'xan in case they come by, is what I'm asking."

"It's not so complicated sir. I refuse to fly with people who puke on my dragon and blame me for it the next morning." Perhaps is it the generational gap between D'ex and the older riders in Siberian, or perhaps D'ex doesn't play well with others. He would veiw it as taking offense, but not putting up with offense to Zynth. Whatever to reason the older riders clashed with this one, the past week had not gone well. D'ex knew he was the probebly the first of his weyrling class to request a transfer, but L'ari needed to be retired and D'ex was no longer allowed to help people to thier graves. The past night had been a breaking point, and the morning sweep he'd finally gotten the papers from Siberian's Wingleader. "Yes sir, you wingleaders have been rather difficult to find when one is looking." There is a pause, a slight shift of focus seen sometimes in those talking with thier dragon, "But if you would rather save the trouble of locating Mister K'vvan and L'xan and happen to have a blue-sized opening, it would be appreciated."

"Oh, point well taken," M'noq says. Who can argue with puke? That would probably be enough for M'noq to request a transfer too. "What makes you think you'd do well in Lynx, then? Any special skills to speak of? You any good at keeping secrets?" He isn't even counting the thing with puke on the dragon. I mean, who wouldn't be talking about that the next day? M'noq takes a moment to look over Zynth. "At least he cleaned up fine, eh? And it looks like he has grown up well since weyrlinghood."

Special skills? Hm. "I am handy with any weapon you can think to offer, sail, and have broken most every law Pern has at some point or another." There is a pause, words turning more careful, "None of which are at all useful in my current line of work or with my current position. I can appreciate a secret worth keeping." Ond waves back toward the blue; dragonriding was a shift for the pirate, given his dragons quiet disaproval at D'ex's past empolyment. "I know the coast of Southern better than I know my own face." That was more useful in dragoning, right? D'ex lights up as attention turns to the blue, a grin speading across his face as he steps aside. "Yes sir. He is my better half." The blue sits up straighter as eyes turn to him, the near-translucant wings loosening at his sides and opening slightly. The sharp head turns to an angle, fixing one calmly whirling eyes on the pair of humans.

M'noq arches a brow at this. "Lynx does do some training in weapons, and we're always interested in bringing in new skills. Broken every law, huh? What did you do before you were Searched?" Might be some interesting stories there. At this point, Ravaith lifts his head and considers the blue as well, putting Zynth in the spotlight for the moment. "He definitely seems well cared for. He's the one who keeps you out of trouble, huh?" He's just guessing, based on the description of D'ex's past life.

D'ex blinks, partially surprised at the question. Then again, just because all of Siberian knew and had heard about both the Wandering Disgrance and D'ex's murder trial, attempted murder trial, didn't seem to mean the whole weyr knew. "I was a sailor an-" The words are cut short, a shiver runs through D'ex and he tosses a half-hearted glare at the blue, "I was a member of the Wandering Disgrace sir. After release I worked as a body guard for a spy for the weyr and, um, was held up for an attempted murder trial." The words are matter of fact, hands clasping behind his back. Long story short anyway. Zynth's attention shifts to the older brown, wings ruslting slightly. "I was Searched from Black Rock where I was working at the docks." Smuggling might be implied there, "Zynth keeps me, um,-" D'ex faulters here, rocking back on his heels slightly, "Zynth points out alternitive methods and keeps me, um, well sir, I don't do that sort of thing anymore."

Pieces of the story that D'ex tells are familiar to M'noq, though it isn't like he followed the man's criminal career all that closely. And though Lynx does spying, even if he had worked with them, it might have been something that only the previous wingleader Myziri had known about. In any case…. "All right then," M'noq says, fishing a pen out of his satchel and giving the transfer request a quick signature, before handing it back to the bluerider. "PT first thing in the morning, followed by drills. I'll let N'lim know to put you into rotation for the sweeps schedule." N'lim is the Lynx wingsecond. "Oh, and you'll need this," he adds, fishing out a new pauldron and giving that to the bluerider as well. "Wear it on your off-side shoulder, during threadfall or formal occasions when you can't bear to wear dress leathers."

Had D'ex know that Myziri had once been the leader of Lynx, he might have hesitated. She was the one who arrested him the first time; one of the few people who D'ex had ever turned over his sword to. As it is, he does not know, the papers are accepted without a thought. "Thank you sir! You will not regret it!" Or at least, D'ex would try to ensure that. "Thank you." He'd have to track down this N'lim person and find out his new hours, but hey, he was escaping Siberian! The pauldron is taken with a nod, he'd already been releived of his Siberian colors, so even as M'noq speaks, D'ex starts afixing the knot to his shoulder, "Consider it done!" A thumbs up is thrown toward Zynth, that grin again spreading across the man's face, "Thank you sir!"

"Keep your nose clean for at least a few sevens, all right?" M'noq says, giving the man a wry grin. "And try hard to stay alive during Threadfall. Anything else, we can deal with." He looks thoughtful, then. "Remind me to catch up with you soon so you can take a look at my coastline maps." M'noq is already coming up with a list of uses he can find for this new rider. "Otherwise, any questions for me?"

"Zynth will ensure it!" On both accounts. The red head beams, he could look at maps for days if Mnoq wanted him to, "Yes sir! Will do! I'd guess you are missing more than you would like." Given how long it had taken the weyr to find the Disgrace, D'ex had little faith in the rider's cartographers. D'ex pauses at the question, frowning slightly. The earlier question on secrects clicking. "Actually, Zynth would like to request that we are not required to kill." The blue had shifted through D'ex's memories of the attacks on the Disgrace, dragons after men, and he had certianly seen the things D'ex had done, the lives he had ended, "I'm good at it. I spent a long time on the Disgrace. But, I made a promise. I don't do that anymore unless I have to. A dragon was a promise I wouldn't have to." He smile flickers back, "I'd like to request that it remains that way." Not that D'ex would not kill, just that with the mind he was now connected to, he'd rather not.

M'noq arches a brow at the request, then he nods firmly. "Yes, I can promise you that. Zynth will never be asked to do so, and I'll do my best to ensure you never have to either. We don't always know what we're getting into with some of Lynx's projects, but if I learn that anything like that might be required, I'll keep you out of it. Truthfully, I'd prefer it if none of us had to do things like that, but self-defense and defending others sometimes put is in situations where we have limited options." He knows the things that Lynx did in the past, threatening people and attacking ships, and he's determined that the wing won't ever go that far under his leadership.

D'ex offers a nod, both thanks and graditude. "It is appreciated. I don't do that sort of thing anymore. I would like to think that the sins of this weyr balance my own sins, but I'm not always sure that is true." The smile returns, "Either way, I think we would all appreciate not adding to the tally." D'ex salutes, "Thank you sir! From both of us." The knot is tapped once, and he offers a nod, "I'll be seeing you in the morning then." He salutes again, this time to the brown, "Both of you."

Ravaith rumbles a warm response, and M'noq nods. "I don't know if they balance or not, but I'd prefer it if we didn't add
more to either side of the ledger. See you in the morning, then." He glances up at the brown. "All right, so I guess next we have to find N'lim. Maybe this time if we surprise him, we'll find out where he's filing my paperwork." M'noq really needs a new wingsecond.