Depending on one's audience, even Brünnhilde is an obscure reference.

Surprised, McGillis turns from the valkyrja frame, silent for a spell or two. He huffs a small laugh through his nose, then, directing the cage closer to Sandrock's cockpit. The distance is respectable; McGillis, not at all interested in the cockpit so much as the boy inside, no older than another gundam pilot by the sound of his voice.

"I take it you are," he says, his own smile returned, almost warm. The white of McGillis's jacket and slacks — worn over a pilot's normal suit — is too clean, too starched to be anything other than the remnants of a uniform.