Anthony Edward Stark

"Not.  My.  Problem."  He's been raging over the finer points of his Jaeger Academy graduation dispatch for the last three hours.  "Do you not know who I am?  Do you not know the contributions I've made to the PPDC?  How about the genius I've lent to the program?  To the pons devices?  To the Jaeger control cores?  The drivesuits?  I do not--  Listen.  Marshall.  I should get a damned say in who you stick me with."

"That's not how it works, Ranger," the calm man tells the somewhat older gentleman sitting across from him.  Stark is a genius.  No one can or will ever doubt that.  He went through a year's worth of training and breaking and mental and physical exhaustion in the span of three months time.  It's...unheard of.  It's completely unheard of.

There's just one trouble.

Stark isn't Drift Compatible with anyone.  Well, with almost anyone.  Somehow, getting a neural bridge to the brain of his dad's science project isn't really high on the to-do list.  "Let me try the Kwoon room again.  Find someone else not in the Academy.  Just not him.  Yanno, I think you're trying to punish me!"

The Marshall sighs.  Director Fury had warned him about Stark.  He just hadn't listened.