| Eyes On The Prize |
| Summary: | Komnenos receives a promotion… and some responsibility to go along with it. |
| Date: | PHD270 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
 .. .. |
The Captain shoves open the hatch and steps through first, though he's mannerly enough to hold it with his booted foot before proceeding inside. He doesn't bother to flip the lights on; it's comfortably dim in here, like a theatre a few minutes before the show's about to start, with only a narrow band of fluorescents providing wan illumination from the front. There's a slap as his folder's tossed atop Sito's old desk. "Sit." The chair opposite is tapped out with his foot, and he himself settles against the edge of said desk.
Thorn follows Kai wordlessly into the ready room, his expression blank but for a curious crinkle in his forehead. He grabs a seat across from what was Sito's desk, easing his tall frame into the chair. A hundred questions are probably on the tip of his tongue, but for the moment, he simply sits there, watching the CAG expectantly.
"Guess I should ask first, if you've got something to say for yourself," Marek begins, idly pulling open one of the desk drawers while he speaks, and rifling around in it for a few moments. He sounds bored, but Komnenos might be able to read deeper than that by now. Maybe.
"Something t'… say for myself." Thorn repeats the words slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. Nope, no comprehension there, but Kai's always been at least something of an enigma to the ECO. His brow furrows as he considers the question. "I didn't know I'd done anything t' warrant explaining myself." There's a pause, and his tone takes on more than a hint of frank resignation. "Who'd I piss off this time, sir?"
Kai scratches the bridge of his nose with with a thumbnail while Komnenos speaks. The note of resignation in his voice garners a pause from the older pilot, and he ceases his digging around in the desk for a moment in order to meet Thorn's eyes directly. "Pretty quick to roll over and offer me your throat," he remarks mildly. "I hope Passi isn't making a whipped man out of you, Anton." There, finally, is a sliver of amusement in his voice.
"Far from it," Thorn replies indignantly. "Would you prefer I'd told you t' frak off instead, sir? I think not." He crosses his arms, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "Whipped man, my pale highlander arse. If you'll excuse my language."
The apology given for 'language' causes Marek to snort softly, though there's no comment on the rest of what was said. He finally digs out a small box, and slides it across the table, until it's sitting directly in front of Thorn. "I was just shitting you, by the way. I've got to get my laughs somehow." And hey, teasing ornery countermeasures officers is always good for a chuckle. "Open it."
"Laughs? Didn't know you were capable." Spoken in a perfect deadpan, of course. His brow furrows even more as Kai pushes the little box his way. At least, until he opens it, anyway. When he sees what's inside, his lips purse in a silent O of surprise, and then he looks back up to the CAG, doing his best not to let a grin show. "An' here you were going t' let me think I'd done something."
"You have, strictly speaking," Kai answers drolly. His hands stay tucked into his trouser pockets, butt planted firmly on the edge of the desk while he studies the younger man seated on the other side. "You've been a fine example of an officer, from what I've seen, since our last chat. You've contributed to the success of one of Nadiv's harebrained ideas, and I seem to recall hearing that you helped save our collective asses while I was slacking off in medical a few weeks back." And here, a glimmer of warmth enters his steely gaze. "Proud of you, quite frankly."
Thorn actually manages to look somewhat modest as he listens to Kai speak. He fights the temptation to just stare at the pins, as though they might disappear if he looks away; he settles for closing the box and holding it in an iron grip, instead. He smirks slightly. "That's what they pay me for." Another flick of the eyes back to the box, and his expression sobers again. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate that."
Kai watches Thorn for a few seconds, then the box. Then Thorn again. His lips press together, and there's a small nod to accompany his eloquent grunt. The desk drawer is rifled through again. No dismissal's yet been given, so it seems the Captain has more for him, yet. "Preliminary data from an unplanned recon mission." A folder's slid onto the desk, right where the box containing the pins was a moment ago. The label across the front reads simply: 'PSR B1280-4 b'. The designation indicates some kind of terrestrial planet. Habitable, maybe. "The Admiral wants a full recon done of the planet, and its radiological ring, before taking the fleet in. We need to know whether the cylons have found it yet. We need to figure out whether the radiation's at an acceptable level for the hull rating of the Hestia, Kharon and Sapta Rishis. And we need to know whether it has any resources we can make use of. Or take away from the toasters." His lips twitch slightly. "Looks like you get to try your hand at running a mission."
As the conversation turns to shop, Thorn leans forward to study the materials Kai puts in front of him. He nods slowly as he listens to the CAG run down the mission parameters. "Got it," he murmurs, flipping through the contents of the folder. "How many Raptors?" he asks a moment later, his eyes flipping back up to Marek.
"Three, including yours," Marek answers evenly. "You'll be armed with chaff drones, and given dosages of antirads before you leave. Probably send some along with you, too. Your job's to get in, get your data, and get out again, then run a secondary recon of.." He leans over, flips to one of the last pages. "..the Parnassos sector on your way back. Should just be a quick drive by, with a priority on sniffing out cylon bases. The area's rich in tylium, though I guess the tylium magnates never got around to mining for it." He eases back again. "Read it over. Figure out who you want on the mission, and we can chat about the particulars closer to the time. Probably be about a week before we're in range for the raptors to jump out."
Thorn listens and nods once more. "Get in, poke my nose around, get out. I can handle that," he replies wryly. His head tilts to one side curiously at something Kai'd said. "Cylon bases… if there are any, you want me t' bring back some pictures, if I can? Or do you just want t' know if they're there?" He pulls the folder off the table, closing it and tucking it under his arm.
Kai nods crisply to Thorn's acceptance of the task, and begins to pull to his feet again. A dismissal's probably forthcoming before too long. "Sure. If you can grab any without getting spotted." There's a twinge of something in his eyes, almost too brief to spot. "I'm sick and frakking tired of losing pilots. You all better come home in one piece, or I'll kick your asses." Probably not much sense in pointing out the obvious flaw in his logic, there.
"Will do, then." As Kai rises, so does Thorn. He catches that twinge in Kai's eye, and he gives a short nod of understanding. "Haven't lost a man under my command yet, sir. Don't frakkin' intend t' start now." Granted, his one major brush with command came during those few days on Scorpia when Timon was wounded and the bunker group hadn't found his group yet. Still technically true, though. "I'll bring 'em back, an' I'll have some pretty pictures t' boot."
Something Thorn says gets a wry little smile out of the CAG. It's pretty mirthless though, all things considered. "You'd better," he answers gruffly. "Those pins aren't just for looking pretty." A salute's thrown up then. "Dismissed."
Kai's smile is matched by a crooked little grin of Thorn's own. "Yes, sir." He salutes crisply, slipping the box with his new pins into his pocket. As the CAG dismisses him, he turns on his heel and heads for the hatch.
