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Rhys followed the older man into the conference room in silence. Outward silence, at any rate. Mentally, he'd managed to mostly beat the more detrimental part of his inner monologue into submission, but even his resolve wasn't enough to keep replaying every misstep he'd made at the pokemon center over and over.
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He took the indicated seat without protest, and at Zev's inquiry, neglected to muster the usual self-deprecating grin he so often used to defuse tension. "Challenging, of course," he replied stoically, "Not that I completely flubbed it, but obviously I'd be in the fire if you hadn't been there. Sir."
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He let his gaze wander upward slightly, meeting the Gengar's crimson glare before sliding back down to turn his attention back to Zev. "I've got a set of skills that I'm very practiced with, and some that I need to work on. I should have been more aware in the recovery area, and I need to train my pokemon further - a Paras that's barely seen combat doesn't stand a chance against a Haunter, and that one was even coming out of sedation. Big misstep on my part," he pronounced simply.
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The optimism in him hoped that this would be at best an opportunity to review and do better the next time. The other side just hoped he wouldn't be branded useless and ejected out of a torpedo hatch.

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Rhys ran a hand through his hair as he considered Zev's next line of questioning, the gesture a telltale sign of stress that the other man might not have been in Rhys's company enough to catch on to. He wasn't going to beat himself up, but since marginal approval was still approval, he might as well continue on the path of frank self-assessment and look to the next opportunity to refine the rough edges revealed by the last mission.
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Assuming there was, in fact, a next opportunity.
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"I'd ensure I had a better idea of what to expect on my own recognizance," he allowed, his eyes darting to a fascinating spot on the bare tabletop and fixing there. "I relied too much on the idea that you'd be there to direct if something went wrong, and as a consequence ended up as barely more than dead weight. Got the pokemon, but could have cost you your part because I wasn't paying attention to potential roadblocks."
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The spot on the table wasn't changing anytime soon, as he hadn't yet encountered wood grain that could reconfigure itself if an onlooker were desperate enough, but just the same Rhys couldn't take Zev's appraising stare while he recollected.
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"Find some way to get a better lay of the land. Your pokemon were good partners, but they also had practical roles in the mission that actively helped us accomplish it, and I hadn't considered that angle fully. I want to groom mine the same way, get a few that can cover different situations, and train them enough to hold their own besides. I can't stop the rest of what I'm doing to take that time, so I'll have to work it in, but it's not an option at this point."
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At this he finally tears away from his avoidance of the other man, looking up at him with a steely, defiant glint in his eye.
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"I'm never going to be in that position again."

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Relief, Rhys supposed, was not intended to feel like having a tub of ice water upended directly over his head. Possibly it was the anxiety he felt at the situation uncoiling itself as the Rocket Beast gave his feedback, but Rhys couldn't hide the slight relaxing of his shoulders, the marginal lack of tension in his posture as the conversation continued.
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Opportunities wouldn't be getting discussed if Rhys was intended to be Sharpedo bait due to his inexperience. Probably.
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Rhys nodded in response to Zev's inquiry - yes, he was a pharmacist, and in fact had a staggering amount each of knowledge, resentment, and debt circulating around that notion. "I am, yeah. I mean yes," he corrects. "Not that compounding's going to pave my way, necessarily, but I did enough moonlighting with my mates that I can also deal with medical situations. Maybe not heart surgery, but better than a bandage."
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His goals? Did he even have any that he could pose to the other man and not sound at best naive, or at worst idiotic?
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Probably not, but stewing in anger for years over one particular incident could do a number on perception.
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"This is gonna sound like a line, but I want to get stronger and be an asset to the organization," he pronounced at length. "Not gonna bore you with it, but I didn't come this far just because I'm some kinda bad boy. I believe in the mission and I want to support the Team's Hoenn activities. Some in particular more than others, maybe, but sitting around filling antibiotics for sniffly brats ain't gonna get anything done for me."
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He offered a slight shrug, as though underscoring the simplicity of his message. "I have some skills, and what I don't have yet, I learn fast. I'm invested in the group's success, and I can't help be a part of that if I'm too busy falling on my face and getting bullied by a half-grown ghost."

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The seeming ambivalence of the other man in response to his exposition didn't irk Rhys as it might have in other situations; rather, it gave him a sense of satisfaction. Keep it honest, but not personal. Don't make waves or sound like you've got delusions of grandeur until you're better positioned to actually back them up and focus on HOW to get them done. Grunts like you are a dime a dozen, don't forget.
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Part of Rhys wanted to laugh at the near-absurdity of Zev's next inquiry. What idiot wouldn't have questions at this juncture?
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Another more level-headed part, however, recognized the opportunity he'd been given - conversation without fear of reprisal. Well, no more fear than he'd been lowly experiencing since walking into the room after Zev.
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"What next?" he asked simply. "I know what I need to work on, myself, but there's going to be more work. Am I supposed to wait for the next mission, like we just finished, or am I better off keeping an ear open for opportunities?"
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Neutral enough, he supposed, and probably depressingly generic for the other man, but an answer Rhys needed to hear regardless, if he was going to make it anywhere in the organization.

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"Thank you, sir," Rhys nodded at the dismissal, coming to his feet. "I'm grateful for the insight, and I look forward to showing you my improvements if I'm assigned to you again in the future."
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He exited the meeting room with little preamble, and more than a little effort to not turn his head searching for Smoke the Gengar on his way out. Altogether that hadn't gone nearly as poorly as it could have, and while Zev hadn't been entirely more conversant than the table they'd sat at, Rhys couldn't help but appreciate the other man's insight and advice. He knew where he needed to improve, and he had some idea of where to start going about it.
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What then, though? He'd joined Rocket in a black haze of fury and resentment, and his every waking moment over the past months was underscored by swings of palpable emotion - anxiety, impatience, frustration, smug satisfaction - but he felt distinctly unfocused. Stick it to the medical system for killing her, he'd thought, and if anyone had a way to destabilize the status quo, it would be Rocket, but was that even on their radar?
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He shook his head as he turned down the hallway, running a hand through his hair distractedly. Probably not, not for one kid's grudge, but if he could climb - if he could direct a stir in the course of more wide-encompassing acts on the part of the Team - well, that might do it.
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First things first, though, he had to get stronger, had to get his feet under him. Now to find that bulletin.

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