| Gone Visiting |
| Summary: | The Hestia S2 & CAG make a trip to visit the CEC Kharon. Tempers are riled and information is exchanged. The picture becomes just a little clearer. |
| Date: | PH226 (30 Nov 2009) |
| Related Logs: | S2x2. |
| Players: |
 .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. |
Battlestar Hestia, Deck 16, Hangar Bay A
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #226
OOC Time: Mon Nov 30 20:50:21 2009
The hangar deck is where the Hestia's Viper and Raptor squadrons are stored, repaired and maintained between missions. Ships land on the flight deck, one level above, and are brought down via massive elevators. Tow vehicles move the ships around the deck, their shrill alert beeps causing an almost constant cacophony of noise. The floor itself is a light gray in color, but a lifetime of wear and tear has left marks and scratches everywhere. Numbered sections are marked off with paint to house the various spacecraft. The place is rather a mess, with tool chests, machine parts, diagnostic equipment, and even the occasional spare engine or chassis scattered all over the place. But despite the apparent disorder, everything has a place and the deck crew's foremost concern is safety.
Sitting along with his babysitter, or rather chauffer, would be the Hestia's S2. Usually in these rides, he's either in blacks or planet sides and armed more heavily than he is now. As such he has on his gunbelt, with his pistol hanging low, and is dressed in pressed blues. One finger moving up to ring along his collar, there's a look over towards the pilot as he relaxes- a little. "This thing is a hotrod for sure.." sarcasm there, light.
Sito glances back from the pilot's seat. "You wanna drive?" And with that, she punches it, rattling the chassis for a hard turn after leaving the flight deck of the Hestia. The engines protest, and she eases off, after adjusting trajectory for the Kharon, and reaching for the comms output.
[STC] "Whiplash" Sito says, "Kharon, this is Hestia Raptor 2201 requesting permission to come aboard. This is Whiplash. Accompanying me is Lieutenant Tombs, the Hestia's Security Officer."
[STC] (from Neha) A pleasant voice comes over the channel. "Raptor 2201, this is Kharon. Please state the purpose of your visit."
"Ffrak me running.." Tombs grits out there as she punches the hoss right after coming off the deck. And his chest strains against the thick black straps, if you think it is uncomfortable in blacks and all, being ready to board- think how it is in this shitty blue uniform. A blink there, before he's glancing back towards Sito. "What is the frakking hold up there?" A grimace- apparently someone is not listening to the space band.
Sito chuckles and calls over her shoulder. "They're requesting the purpose of our visit." She reaches for the comms and answers in her usual way.
[Into the Wireless] The voice that comes back over the comms is amused, "We thought we'd stop by and clean our your larder, then take all your fertile women." There's a beat, and then the Hestia CAG continues, "We didn't get a lot of time yesterday to meet and greet. Tombs wants a look at your marines and facilities. Same for me, less marines, more pilots. Business and pleasure."
"Does it matter?" comes Nate's almost usual response to his marines when they ask why in the shit they are doing x, y or z. Still Tombs just fidgets to get comfortable after the lovely carnival ride he was just drug through. There's a faint smirk, given at the words. A pause as a brow arches up. "If they don't like that…" he starts, "I'll buy em dinner first."
"Keep your zipper up," Sito replies, after she finishes relaying her message to the Kharon's CIC. "You okay back there, Lieutenant? Need a little smoother ride?" The ride is smoother by now, of course, she's just frakking with the passenger. "Your blues might be a little wrinkled when we arrive if you strap in much tighter."
Tombs turns his eyes back over to the CAG, even if he tries to keep staring on ahead, as if there was nothing amiss and this was a nice sun shiny day in the frakking park. Not a trip in a raptor with a bitch birthed from hell. Not that he ever thinks that, you know. Still, Nate coughs once before he's trying to smooth out his uniform, a little. "Oh I am just peachy frakkin' keen, back here Ni-" a pause in cause the band is open. "Captain." correction there. "An I don't trust you to not just bring this thing, tits up and leave me hanging. My straps are fine."
[STC] Neha sounds good humored, but not unprofessionally so. "I'm afraid we're out of juice boxes and bubble gum. As for the women, you'll need to sign a waiver absolving the CEC Kharon and its crew for any damages incurred." A small pause. "Whiplash, you are cleared to dock. Welcome aboard."
"Strapping in was wise," comes the CAG's reply as they circle the Kharon in a lazy arc. She peers out the viewport at the vessel. "Whew. She looks like she fell face-down in the sticker patch and cows ran over her." Nini is, of course, referring to the two gaping holes in the hull, one where the Black Berths used to be, and another where the Ward Room once was. As the permission to land comes up over the comms, she swings around to guide the raptor toward the flight deck.
There's some leaning and of course he's maneuvering to peer over a shoulder and out the window, as best as he can from his place in the back- okay maybe some loosening. "I know you too well." the Lieutenant quips back before he's whistling softly. "Looks prettier than the girl who asked me to Sadie Hawkins. Shit..Looks like a whore after shore leave on Scorpia.." a clicking of his tongue to teeth. "Here's hopin her ranks look prettier.." Tombs offers softly as he settles back down.
[Into the Wireless] Sito's reply is timely, "Much obliged, Kharon. Whiplash coming in, hands on approach." There's a beat and then the Hestia CAG addresses the comms again, "If you could send up a marine escort to keep the Lieutenant from getting lost on his way to marine country, that would be lovely. You get the man off a Battlestar and he's about as confused as a cow on astroturf."
Tombs snickers slightly "Thanks for the vote of confidence.." A shake of his head, and the S2 simply readies himself for the landing. Hell, he's had better trips than this. Though rarely does one get such colourful commentary with em.
"You know as well as I do it'll make them feel more at ease," Sito replies, tone light as she brings the raptor in for a landing. "Put the locals to rest on the subject with humor. You catch more flies with honey, as they say."
CEC Kharon, Hangar Deck, Hangar Bay 1
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #226
OOC Time: Mon Nov 30 21:46:27 2009
There's activity here at almost every hour of the day. Impact guns can be heard with their shrieking rumble while crew call back and forth, their voices carrying just above the din of the work here. What's readily apparent is that this is the main Hangar Bay for the Vipers, the distance going back further than the other two Bays which are separated by thick, hydraulically rolled blast doors. On each side of the room, near the Fore end, six Viper tubes are ready for quick deployment of the Kharon's Viper squadron. Lining the rest of Hangar Bay One, each Mark Two and Mark Seven has its own place to be kept with a small red toolchest that holds the minimum of required equipment for quick maintenance.
Along the floor, each individual Viper bay is painted off with a single hashed yellow and black stripe. A deep red line denotes important electrical conduits and access ports just below the deck while a bright blue line follows up walls and across the floor to tell where the Tylium lines run in case of fire. Outlets along the wall for the fuel as well as corrugated rubber piping stand ready for use, fluorescent yellow firefighting gear kept in plain sight for easy access nearby.
With his duty jacket unzipped, Martin has made his rounds from the berthings to medical, and now finally up to the hangar. Speaking quietly with one of the flight technicians while on his crutches, the conversation comes to an end and with a nod of their heads the technician heads back towards the Viper line.
Thea's off to one side, working on her Raptor in her off-duties. She's got grease smudges from nose to belly button, a wrench in her hand and a smile on her face. The woman looks -happy- playing grease monkey.
Sparro wanders onto the deck, looking frustrated as hell as he starts working on his own Raptor, turning bolts with just a little more force than might have been deemed absolutely necessary as he does so.
Raptor 2201 comes in for a landing on the flight deck, and is shortly hooked up for a tow. The raptor bears the markings of the Battlestar Hestia, and the callsign stenciled on the bird is not the one of the pilot who was talking over STC comms earlier. The hatch pops open, and stands that way for a moment before anyone exits.
Glancing around and seeing no other officers in their duty blues, Martin bites the inside of his cheek and leans his crutch against the wall. Buttoning up his jacket as the Raptor lands, he retrieves his crutch and starts to make his way towards the Raptor as some haphazard form of welcoming party.
"You lookin t' catch any?" barely heard before there comes the first person to pop out of the raptor. Dressed in his blues, with his side arm strapped low at his hip-is the S2. One hand moving to scratch through his hair, before smoothing it back, as he looks to the inhabitants of the deck, before he is dropping down onto the deck. A glance back for his driver, and Tombs, actually waits- instead of just hopping off to go and sniff around. He ain't as nosey as some folks.
[STC] Neha says, "Our pleasure, Whiplash. Please inform your S2 that the welcome wagon is awaiting him. Are you in need of an escort, as well?"
[Into the Wireless] Sito says, "Kharon, acknowledged. I'll be fine, sugar. I never had a problem finding my way. The offer is appreciated, but unnecessary. Landed and secure. Whiplash out."
Up onto the flight deck come two very unlikely visitors - one Corporal Barghest and her sidekick, Mini-Marine. Epi's in her blacks, apparently on duty, looking all official-like - even with the gauze still on her neck. "They've got to be here somewhere," she says quietly to the other Marine. "The OTHER S2 should be easy to flush out - just look for the lost sheep. The goat, well, the goat will be harder. I guess we just have to look for strange pilots." A pause and she looks up to Barghest, brows furrowed. "But isn't that redundant?"
"No." Sito's response to Tombs' mystery query is brief. She steps out of the raptor after the marine, also wearing a sidearm at the hip of her flightsuit. "At least you cleaned up your mess this time." She glances back in the raptor, then steps out, leaving the hatch ajar. The pilot takes a few steps across the wing. She surveys the deck briefly, perhaps with an eye out for the S2's human compass(es).
The sound of an incoming Raptor catches Thea's attention and she pokes her head out from behind her Raptor. Ahh, there's Dash. And there's the temper-tantrum throwing Birdman. The smile fades a little as she spots the later. Fortunately, or unfortunately, as the case may be, her attention then turns to Whiplash and the Hestia's S2. She straightens slightly, watching the pair for just a second, before stepping out into full view. "Good evening Captain, Lieutenant, she calls, offering both a smile. "Welcome aboard."
Sparro glances up at the landing Raptor and who is coming off of it, and with a sigh, turns and salutes. Officer on the deck, and all that.
Barghest, in her on-the-clock stoicism, gives Epi a nod and an eloquent, "A bit." The big woman gives the bay a lookover, trying to sift through the myriad deck crews and such that do belong here, as well as the aformentioned pilots. She pauses her sweep on sight of the inbound and softly asides, "A cubit says that's them."
Martin is already on his way to the Raptor. Watching the two as he approaches, he comes to a stop and leans heavily against his left crutch as he snaps a salute to Sito and Tombs. "Sirs." He introduces himself. By the look on his face, he's trying to hide the fact that he wasn't exactly expecting a visit from them. "Welcome back to the Kharon, Captain." He says, going into a gimped form of attention.
Tombs looks back with a faint grunt. "I never leave messes, Captain." voice a tad flat, before he's looking over towards where the voice comes out. A brow raised over to the other woman, and there's a faint nod. "Thank you.." Eyes looking to Sparro. "Riight.." and eyes are back right onto Captain Sito, then right back to Thea as a smile is managed. "Evenin…" Apparently not catching pins just yet-and like that he's all lookin' to Martin who has hobbled up. A nod is all the Lieutenant is willing to pass over.
And look there Marines "Ahh, my babysitters are here…" noted. and with that he's going to start moving to Bargehst and Epi, unless Sito wants to give any full introductions.
Ohcrap. Epi peers at Tombs as he comes forward, pulling to attention immediately. Shoulders back, chin up - the perfect little Marine. Save for the curious expression that she just can't quite hide. "Sir," she says in that Marine bark. "Welcome Sirs." Ok, so it's to both, but Tombs has her attention - for now.
"Captain," Whiplash replies, after she finally hops down off the wing of the raptor. She glances over to Tombs after a brief eye contact with Legacy. "Best behavior," she notes. Then her eyes turn to Martin. Sito nods. "Lieutenant." Her greeting is brief. She jerks a thumb after the S2. "Lieutenant Nathan Tombs, Hestia's security officer." She offers a return salute since one was offered nearby. "Don't let the man near your coffee supply. He'll turn it to sludge." That's a general warning for all before the pilot reaches up to tug down the zipper on her flight suit a bit.
Barghest's salute is almost clockwork as the man with the rank approaches them, almost echoing the smaller marine's, "Sir." She keeps her curiosity on rein at the moment, holding to protocol rather than risk a faux pas of some sort.
Thea dips her head to both Whiplash and Tombs, smile a touch amused. "Captain Althea Legacy, Ghost Riders Raptor Squadron," she says by way of introduction to the passing Tombs. "Lieutenant Kyle Sparro, Lieutenant JG Martin Black. Birdman and Dash, respectively. If there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, or if we can answer any questions you have, please let us know." She gives Sparro a Look. One brow is arched ever so slightly. Other pilot leaders might recognize the look. It's the one that spells out in great detail what's going to happen when there's alone time. Fun for one, not the other. "We keep some of the low-tyllium stuff in our ready room if you're interested in a cup, Captain."
"Right, Won't shoot anyone.." Tombs checks off, before he's looking back to Legacy "My apologies- Evenin' Captain." and like that he's finished as far as he's concerned. Not like the pilots are going to care for who he is. The Marines on the other hand. As they offer salutes, his hand comes up to quickly snap one off. "Ya'll show me to your Marine offices.." or Security Hub, where ever the S2 or CO might be found. There's a look back over his shoulder, noting though the other two names and faces, before a sniff to Sito. "How long you want me gone, Captain?" asked back to the CAG. He'd hate to keep her waiting.
Or not.
Sparro gives Thea a bit of a smile before dropping out of the salute and just standing there, though he is still eying his bird.
Martin nods his head as his introduction is given. Reaching back for his other crutch, he slides it comfortably beneath his arm and smiles at Thea's words. Glancing towards the marines, he gives them a look of recognition as he realizes their true purpose there. Turning back to Sito, the small hint of mischief in his eye is rather apparent. "Of course I would have brought it up, but a tray's hard to balance." Martin offers, trying to break the ice a little bit as he balances on one foot. Limping to the side to give Tombs access to the Marines, he keeps his attention on the nearby pilots.
Epi studies Tombs for a moment then dips her head sharply. "This way, Sir," she says quietly. "Welcome aboard, Sir." She's the pinnacle of professionalism, save for that brief fingering of the zip-ties at the back of her duty belt. "SecHub isn't far, and we've got some coffee on. The real coffee. Not what the pansies drink." And damned if her mouth doesn't run away with her again.
And her partner breaks out the shovel. Bar's expression flickers somewhat, though her salute comes down and she turns to do the escort thing for their visitor, though she decides to help out with, "It's Aquarian, I think."
"I had a cup of the Hussy's CMC brew a little earlier, and I'm afraid my belly ain't quite yet recovered, but thank you for the kindness," Sito offers back to Legacy, though she seems for a moment tempted by that mention of coffee. "My little squadron is called the Furies." She glances over, as if distracted by Tombs' query, like she thought he'd already gone. "Roll out a page over the ship's comms when you're done, Lieutenant. If I'm indisposed, I'll fire back to your location and we can impose on one of these talented fliers to ferry you home. Don't wait up, hear?"
"What is it you did to yourself, Lieutenant?" Nini asks after the injuries of the be-crutched Martin.
Kai strides onto the hangar bay sporting full duty blues, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. Well, he ambles really more than strides, like a man who's terminally five minutes early no matter where he's going. After skimming the 'bay for a few moments, he spots the Hestia raptor with a gaggle of pilots nearby, and heads on over.
Thea laughs softly and quirks a brow slightly. "The Hussy," she asks, then shakes her head. "No, no, I don't want to know." WIth a grin, she wipes the grease off of her hands using a handy-dandy rag tucked into the waistband of her sweats. She's got grease on her tanks and cheeks and a wrench in one hand. Apparently this is the redneck raptor greeting squad for the Hestia folks.
"My viper took a large couple of hits to the underside during a recent engagement. Interior shrapnel hit me in the leg in two places, calf and thigh. Avionics took a pretty bad hit as well." Martin replies simply, nodding to Nini as he speaks. "We were a bit pressed at the time so I landed it. Circumstances put me back in the field before I could get to medical. The doctors loved that." Martin smirks as he readjusts his lean on the crutches. "It stretched out my light duty, so I'm off the roster for another six but the job got done." Oh yes, Captain Sito, meet a pilot that's tough as nails and glorious…
Sparro, seeing that the party seems to be over, goes back to working on his Raptor, though he is a bit more calm in how he does so, now.
"Hussy's just our private little nickname for home," Sito supplies, with the slightest quirking of her lips when Thea comments. She turns her eyes to Martin as he gives over the lowdown on his adventure that led to injury. She regards Martin for a long moment as he finishes his story. "You didn't sound off your injuries for your CO before you hopped the next scramble?"
Tombs eyes Epi, mainly as she seems to be reaching for her ties, but then he's looking back on over towards Barghest the tall one of the two. And there's a faint shaking of his head. "Ya'll sure do come in all shapes and sizes here.." the OTHERS2 offers, before he's nodding slightly. "Sec Hub. Lovely." A beat for a moment. "What's Aquarian?" Asked to the taller-as eyes remain on the ewok in blacks. Anyway-lead on doesn't need to be said, does it? There's a faint look back towards Sito. Whatever is going through the Lieutenant's seems not to follow suit. Instead there's just a faint nod. "You need help, holler or something." Nate grunts.
Pilots.
Epi bounces a bit on the toes of her boots and starts out ahead of the OS2, moving at a good clip. Clearly she figures he can keep up. "We tend to grow them big in Marine country," Shortstack replies over her shoulder. "Corporal Barghest is the runt of the litter, but she's a scrapper." And…she's off.
(At this point the logs diverge, and you can find the marine bits here: S2x2.)
Wiping her face with a towel, Marissa steps in from the simulators. She's been either in there or working on planes since the last brush with Toasters, when she hasn't been flying CAP or catching some small amount of rack time. The dispersing crowd around the foreign Raptor catches her attention, making her hesitate in her tracks but walk on, staying near the birds, eyes on what's left of the gathering.
Kai draws to a halt not far from the grouping of pilots, and nods politely to the Fury amongst them. "Welcome aboard, Captain. I've been informed that you asked for an tour guide. I don't have any straw hats or peanuts, but I do have suggestions for where to get good coffee. As soon as you're done here, of course." Martin gets a slightly arch look. He does not seem to be aware of this incident.
"That was the 42, sir." Martin replies, speaking in a language that Kai understands as he nears. Downplaying it a little bit, he looks back to Sito to answer her question before going quiet, giving Kai the floor with the Hestia's CAG. "I sounded them off, yes sir. There was an imminent need and I took responsibility for the decision."
Thea's voice goes a bit quiet as the OCAG asks the question of Martin. "Captain Marek, Spider, was in Sickbay at the time recovering from injuries. CIC, where I was working as Acting CAG and assisting the XO, came under seige when we were boarded by four Centurions. We had no radio contact with our pilots until the toasters were down. Dash, Shepherd, Birdman and a few others held down the fort. Dash may have called his injuries in, but we were too busy trying to keep the people in CIC alive to be able to hear - let alone answer. The rag gets tucked back into her waistband and she pulls up a bit as Spider approaches. "Captain," she says quietly, offering a bit of a smile. "We were just discussing coffee and the fact that the Captain's had some."
Martin nods his head, agreeing with Thea's assesment. Take a picture, Martin's not being a gloryhound.
Thea's voice goes a bit quiet as the OCAG asks the question of Martin. "Captain Marek, Spider, was in Sickbay at the time recovering from injuries. CIC, where I was working as Acting CAG and assisting the XO, came under seige when we were boarded by four Centurions. We had no radio contact with our pilots until the toasters were down. Dash, Shepherd, Birdman and a few others held down the fort. Dash may have called his injuries in, but we were too busy trying to keep the people in CIC alive to be able to hear - let alone answer." The rag gets tucked back into her waistband and she pulls up a bit as Spider approaches. "Captain," she says quietly, offering a bit of a smile. "We were just discussing coffee and the fact that the Captain's had some."
Hearing his name, Sparro glances up, sighs, then walks over to join the group. No point being uncivil. "Dash was amazing that night… took charge of the Air Group when there was no clear command."
Sito ignores the S2. Gosh, isn't he gone yet? Man's like a booger you can't thump off. She's got her eyes on Martin, waiting for that clarification of his tale of woe. She does aside to the Kharon's CAG, as he arrives, "I specifically declined a guided tour, Captain. Can't imagine what gave you an impression otherwise. Little communication issue with the comms officer, or you just playin' rooster in the hen house?"
At the interjection by the raptor Captain, pale green eyes go to Thea, after leaving Martin's. Sito regards the redheaded woman for a beat. "Boy, you shoulda took yourself off the line, your CO's eyes were too big for her stomach." That's to the LtJG, though her eyes don't leave Thea, "There a reason the CAG was up in CIC during a major engagement? Somebody's ass should be on fire by now." Her eyes then flick to Marek. "Yipper just say 'no clear command'?"
"Actually, Captain, I'm just shitting you," Marek confides, without a trace of a smile. His eyes remain on Sito's throughout the conversation, even as Martin and Legacy give their sides of it. "I was informed you'd stopped by for a visit, and frankly, you should know better than to be poking your nose around someone else's wing. My pilots aren't accountable to you. They're accountable to me. And last I checked, I sure as frak wasn't accountable to you, either." He gestures toward the hallway that leads to the ready room. "Shall we?"
Upon hearing the mention of 'that night', Marissa blushes and keeps her eyes on the Raptors she's next to. Her own role of that night has been equally storied, but there were no high-fives involved. The rudeness of Sito, and the criticism of the wing, has her gaze up again in heartbeats, dark eyes flashing with anger. Fortunately, Kai's faster than she is. She slips into the fringes of the group (sometimes it's good to be small), tugging on Legacy's sleeve and whispering something to her.
Thea simply watches the other CAG in return, a brow arched ever so slightly. Is this to be a cat fight? Apparently not. Black Cat's claws remain in and the faintest hint of amusement crosses her features. "Welcome aboard, again, Captain," she tells Whiplash quietly. "Captain Marek, I'll be here on the deck finishing up on Fox 2, and then to the gym, if you have any questions." Like Sito, Thea's eyes never leave the other woman - even as she leans down slightly to listen to what Marissa has to say.
Martin raises his voice just a little bit to interject his way into the conversation, defending his superiors. "It was a sudden situation, and defensive conditions warranted immediate action. With communications all the way down the line due to internal channels likely being jammed, all of us were proud to do exactly what we were trained to do…which was secure the hangar bay and the FTL capable Raptors while continuing our duties during an assault." Martin replies, speaking a bit more boldly. "Long story short it was a shit hitting the fan situation and no one gets to choose their unlucky bounces…even when the CAG is away and gets cut off at a superior officer's request." Martin's lip pulls to the side in a little smirk. "Don't look at me, Birdman, you did all of the hangar work and Poet did all of the manual labor." Martin turns his head, smiling brightly to Sparro.
Sparro chuckles. "Yeah, probably about as crazy as having a Battlestar's entire command structure, From Rear Admiral to CAG, land on a recently reemerged CEC, right?" Sparro laughs, clapping Kai on the back. Those who know him would probably know that Sparro was NEVER that happy to see Spider say anything. He then steps forward, offering his hand. "Lt. Sparro. Birdman. Crotchety old pilot. Glad to meet you." He grins back at Dash. "Son, if you don't stop being so damned modest, I will have to inform Captain Marek that he has a Raptor pilot hidden amidst his Vipers."
[Intercom] Epi says, "Ensign Nikos to the SecHub. Please pass it along, Ensign Nikos to the SecHub."
Sito's eyes remain on Marek for a moment. "Can't tell if you're comin' or goin', Captain, but at least you ain't asleep." She might have just called the Kharon's CAG crooked, but something could be lost in the translation. "A frak up is a frak up, Lieutenant, just like sense is sense. Luck ain't much to do with it." Her eyes go to Sparro's hand, though she declines it, her own hands clasped behind her back. "Crazy the word you'd use for a brass visit from a Colonial Battlestar coming to greet the newest member of her fleet?" She arches a brow slightly, then turns to join the CAG in a walk toward the corridor. "Hm."
Kai looks a little startled by the clap on the back, and gives the man a somewhat awkward, though not insincere smile. Whatever Sito just called him, it doesn't garner a reaction. Or, for that matter, a response. "I'll contact you over the wireless if I need anything, Black Cat," he tells Thea, making brief eye contact with the woman. Something might be communicated there, but then again, maybe not. "Dash, quit showboating and get back to work." It's delivered drily enough to make his tone difficult to discern. And then, he's headed off with the blonde Captain.
Well…he tried. Martin waits until Sito's back is turned before he casts an apologetic look towards Black Cat. A little perturbed, his scowl turns into a warm smile. "Black Cat, I might just drop by later, actually. I'm on the tail end of duty and I still have yet to hit the mess." He adds, turning to follow Kai and Sito towards the door. There's no telling if he intends to shadow them or not, but he hasn't been told to frak off otherwise. Lowering his voice, he smirks towards Sparro. "Alright alright I put some work into it. It was a team effort though, and there's no way in Hades I could have done it alone." When Kai sounds the 'frak off', Martin nods his head and unbuttons his coat, preparing to separate from them at the stairs.
Thea finally takes her eyes off Sito when Kai speaks and she nods, once. Her eyes cut to Marissa, then to Dash and Birdman. "Mouse, Dash, Birdman, my office, please," she says quietly. "I want to talk with all of you about a morale project for the wing." Her head cocks toward the tool room and she turns in that direction.
Screech…Martin stops, turning and immediately heading in Thea's direction. His face a strange mix of both pride and frustration, he does as he's told and exits stage left.
Sparro just shakes his head. "Frakking Vipers. Aye sir…" and he follows HIS Captain towards the Tool Room.
Marissa glares after the blonde Cappie, making little cat-clawing motions in the air with one hand until she catches herself and tucks the hand away. Thea speaks up just then, and she snaps to. "Aye-aye, sir." She gives Sparro and Martin each a puzzled look, even as she turns to follow Thea.
And after weeks of worry, she doesn't recognize that she's probably been given a callsign. /That/ ought to say how stretched-thin she is these days.
CEC Kharon, Hangar Deck, Ready Room
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #226
OOC Time: Mon Nov 30 23:31:30 2009
The soft glow of white lights overhead cast pervasive illumination across the battleship gray walls and dark, trodden carpet floor. An aisle divides the chairs, bolted to risers, into two sections. The plush black leather and padding of each chair is well worn from years of use, adding an edge of comfort to the otherwise business ready room. A pull down screen and a digital projection unit are available for footage viewing.
There are three desks at the rear of the room, and stacks of technical manuals and tactical guides set into shelving behind them. Cabinets sit to one side of the desks, and a rack of deep green flight suits, helmets, and misc. gear can be found on the other. One section of the wall near the front, kept clear of clutter, is a wooden wall-plate that goes nearly floor to ceiling.
Sito holds further comment, moving down through the corridor with the CAG, until they reach the Ready Room. "Is your entire wing like that, or do I just keep fallin' over the ones who got hit with the stupid stick?"
Kai is likewise silent throughout the short jaunt down the corridor. He almost heads right on through the hatch, but seems to catch himself, and hold it for Nini on an afterthought. Definitely an afterthought. Unchivalrous bastard. "They're viper jocks, Captain. Somewhere out there, is a tree that grows them, and when they fall out they get smacked with every dumbass branch on the way down. Sure you don't want any coffee?" He pauses halfway to his desk, and glances over his shoulder at the woman.
Sito passes through the hatch without comment on the afterthought. "You just called yourself a dumbass, sugar." She glances around the room, then pauses in front of the flight board."… That's a lot of pilots down."
"I prefer to call it knowing my limits, Captain." He's silent while she looks over the board, hands still in the pockets of his blues trousers, eyes flickering curiously over the woman herself. Undoubtedly taking note of her mannerisms, her posture, her expressions. "By the way, my callsign is Spider. You can also call me Karim, or Captain if you prefer." It's a subtle reminder, probably, that 'sugar' isn't acceptable.
The subtle doesn't seem to do the trick, because the other CAG doesn't so much as bat an eye. "Why don't you go ahead and spell that for me. Whatever you just said ain't near registered right." Yeah, it's his accent. She glances over, pale green eyes finding his face. She waits. She really did mean spell it. Her posture is relaxed, though her hands stay put behind her back.
"Karim," repeats the other pilot, in precisely the same flat tone of voice. There's a definite 'accent' when he gives his name, the 'k' pronounced coarsely, almost like he's trying to hoark something up in his throat. "K-a-r-i-m. You're from Aerelon." It isn't a question.
And you know it's coming. When she says it, "Oh, Karim." But she says it like 'care-rim'. Wait for it. "Karim Marek." Care-rim may-wreck. "Somethin' about your name rings a little bit of a bell." She turns to face the CAG fully now. "Don't take a linguist to catch on y'all hail from Sagittaron. Your accent ain't as had as it could be." She probably meant 'as difficult to understand as it could be'. Funny how things come out. "Anyhow, I think I will have some of that coffee, you don't mind." And then she's turning back to the flight board. "Some without callsigns KIA." She touches the board, fingers smudging a little ink on the edge of Helios' name. "Nuggets?"
There's something else in his accent, like someone who's either trying to hide it, or someone who's simply been away from home so long that he's lost a good deal of its original inflection. "I think I'd remember if we'd met, Captain," he answers diffidently, meeting the smaller woman's gaze squarely when she turns to face him. A nod to the mention of coffee, and he pulls away to fetch a couple of mugs before heading for the machine. "There aren't any rooks during a war," comes his reply to her last, after a goodly pause.
"Not after the first flight. After the first flight, there's just dead and scared shitless." Sito removes her hand from the board, leaving behind that little smudge. After a moment of consideration, she reaches up to shorten a letter a little, flattening off the bottom stroke again without leaving the fingerprint to linger. She brushes her fingertips together, then slides her hands again behind her back. "I didn't say we met, Captain, just know the name. It'll come to me. Always does."
"Mm." That's Marek's eloquent collusion to the subject of rooks. It's followed by the sound of the coffee being poured, after a brief check to ensure it's hot. Which it somewhat is. "I took the liberty of putting together a copy of all my duty logs, incident reports, mission briefings, tactical summaries and personnel files, by the way." Meaning, he probably stayed up late last night, after she left, doing so. "It's about a month's worth of reading, I should warn you." He heads back with the two coffee cups, and hands one across to her. "I'll be happy to release it once my Commanding Officer's given the go ahead."
Sito turns from the board as Marek mentions the logs. She nods, and reaches for the cup with both hands. "Appreciated, Captain. I could use the organizational jump for when the Admiral asks for the inevitable review. The word thorough was invented for her." And that's a little tiny bit of a peace offering from one CAG to the other. Information. "I don't have a lot of hobbies. I enjoy reading." She watches Marek for a moment, then queries, "Care to give me the high points of your cruise to date?"
Kai briefly notes the flight board, the letter that was fixed, and the smudge left behind, then regards Sito again evenly. There's no challenge in the way he watches her, has watched her, since the moment they've met. Just a quiet, constant assessment. "I think I know the type." Peace offering accepted, his lips twitch slightly in what doesn't quite pass for a smile. "If you have a chance, check out the library on board some time." And then he eases his backside against the edge of his desk, possibly to take weight off the leg that seems to give him trouble. "There's been a few high points, and they're all in my reports. You've seen the ship yourself. You've seen the duty roster. You've seen the number of birds down for repair in the hangar bay. You need me to spell things out for you, Captain?"
"Only very occasionally." Sito regards him for a moment, then lifts the mug to nurse the coffee a bit. Small sips, silent sips. "I guess I'll just be surprised when the paperwork shows up. Till then, I'm gonna assume you been takin' hits like a two dollar whore at happy hour. Lost a lot of pilots. Got the shit kicked out." She sips again. "Still standing. More than I can say for most of the fleet."
"Still flying," Karim corrects gruffly, watching her sip at the coffee with a slight parting of his lips that still doesn't qualify as a smile. If anything, there's something vaguely lurksome about the stoop of his shoulders and the unflinching perusal of the other Captain. Like a vulture waiting for something to die, maybe. "Hestia looks to be in good shape, what little I've seen of her. How's the war treated you." His questions tend to fall flat, barely questions at all.
Hestia's CAG watches Kharon's CAG as he watches her. She says a lot of things, but the visual appraisals are often more intense than the words. "Barely that." Sito lowers the coffee, cradling the bottom of the mug in her hand. "It's treated us the same as war treats everyone else. We're tired, we're angry, and we're hungry for things we just can't have." Apropos of nothing she observes, "I can see why some of your pilots question your ability as a leader." There has to be more to that, but she doesn't offer it up right off.
Kai hasn't sipped at his coffee yet. It's held cupped against his left hand and resting against a blues-clad thigh, and there isn't so much as a flinch in his staid expression when Nini drops that last little non sequitur. "Some of us were born to do this kind of job. Some of us just do the best we can, with the hand we've been given." His lack of rising to the bait may, or may not suggest that this wasn't a posting he'd necessarily aspired to.
"No leader's born. Leadership is taken and then respect is earned. You say it's just dealin' with what you been handed, you ain't trying hard enough." Sito's eyes remain on Marek's face. "Most life I saw out of you was when I went after red. There something there, or you just playing hard to get?" She gets personal without so much as a bat of the eye. The answers doesn't seem to matter so much as the question being posed. She watches him as she says it. "You play it too close, they all assume you ain't paying attention."
The lecture seems, for the most part, to roll off Karim like water off a duck's back. His blue eyes stay tuned on hers, discomfiting as the contact may or may not be to him. "Maybe I am." Playing hard to get. There's a long pause, and then he finally sips from his coffee. He's none too delicate about it, either; a dribble is wiped off with the back of his hand and licked off his knuckles. "My pilots are worried they're about to be uprooted without warning. Any truth to that?"
Sito is quiet for a moment, considering the question. "Your ship is heavily damaged, your wing is down to dangerous numbers. You couldn't take a cow far, nevermind a full on assault." She glances around the room. Her eyes don't have to find the board again. She studied it at length when standing in front of it before, "We lost some pilots early on. If I had to make the recommendation today, I'd say we merge. Even knowing the disposition of some of your pilots, and the friction that could cause. It doesn't really matter if we like each other, Marek." May-wreck. "It's hotter then Hephaestus' tit in mid july out here. Fact is we need each other."
Kai's nose twitches slightly at the metaphor, but he doesn't comment on it. Aerelonese and their bizarre expressions. "I'm not particularly sentimental about this shitcan, Captain. I'm a soldier. I'll go where my orders tell me to go. And I'm inclined to agree with you." He sips slowly, throat working with his swallow. "But these people have been hanging on with their fingernails. They deserve to know what's going to happen, either way. And sooner rather than later."
"They decide they like livin' they'll button it and do their jobs, even if it hurts just a little bit." Once one gets past Nini's expressions, she almost starts to sound intelligent. But then she says something about a gnat's ass or pig shit and we're back down to baseline hick. "When I have orders, you'll have orders."
There's a long pause following those words, and finally a breath blown out Karim's nose. He looks about as tired, as beaten down at the moment as one might expect a wing commander to look, after seven odd months of fighting. "Understood, Captain." It's as simple as that.
There's a long moment of consideration, and Nini studies Marek. She takes one last sip of her coffee, and then puts the mug down after she approaches the desk, leaving it for him to dispose of. The next words aren't so clipped as her previous. "We have a pool. We have an Obs Deck with a breathtaking view of the stars. You need help softening that blow when it comes, you tell them that. You remind them Hestia is an Olympia Class Battlestar, and we are all that remains of humanity. The pool thing don't work, go with the survival bullshit. We all know how this is likely to end, but it ain't how you die. It's how you get there in the mean time." She hms. "And if that don't work, there's always batteries and jumper cables."
"You'd make a good salesman, Captain," Marek observes, a bit wryly. He doesn't move from his seat at the edge of his desk; the mug'll be cleaned up later. His own coffee's still barely been touched. "If there's nothing else, I've got a patrol coming in, in about fifteen minutes, that I need to brief."
"There isn't. I should pry my S2 out of marine country before he shoves his big old foot so far down his throat someone tries to pin him to a target in the firing range." There's a lot of confidence she displays there, in the abilities of her ship's security officer's interpersonal skills. "Good huntin', Marek." She turns to go before he's up from the desk, presuming he moves at all. "I'll find my own way."
Kai does indeed move to his feet, and slide his coffee cup back onto his desk. He has that much manners, at least. "You too, Captain. Let me know next time you're in my neck of the woods, so I can roll out the welcome mat properly." It might be good old Saggie hospitality, or it might be a subtle warning for her not to go poking around without his escort, again. Or it could even be some unholy combination of both.
Sito raises a hand and waves it once, but in no way confirms or denies the implication(s) of those words. It could be inferred she'll do as she damn well pleases, but that would be something a pessimist might do.
[Intercom] Sito says, "Attention! Lieutenant Tombs to the Hangar Bay. Tombs to the Hangar Bay. Your chariot is leavin'. Haul your hiney. Pass the word."
Somewhere in the corridor, it seems Sito has found the intercom.
CEC Kharon, Hangar Deck, Hangar Bay 1, Raptor-2201
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #226
The Raptor is fairly cramped quarters. A hydraulic hatch over the port wing allows entry, opening into the main body. A bench runs along each side of the ship, with seats and harnesses for eight passengers. The cockpit area at the front contains side-by-side seats for the pilot and co-pilot, along with banks of displays and controls for the avionics and sensors. A large canopy provides good forward and side visibility for the crew.
Nini walks up to and enters the raptor some time after she called for Tombs. There's actually a good chance he might beat her there, since she took a tiny detour to check out the sims while the Kharon's was in the other room, after she paged over the intercom.
And here he is, sitting and waiting-though not in the very back He's taken the co-pilot's seat, and has strapped in. Right now Tombs smells of coffee, and smoke-so it is safe to say someone was a social butterfly tonight. "Hey mom." comes the flat line from the Lieutenant as he smoothes back his hair. "You make any friends?" because he did.
The Hestia's CAG hops into the raptor and immediately closes the hatch, sparing but a glance for the S2. "Howdy, junior, I sure did! These pilots around these parts are nervous as a whore in church. You find the marines a little less skittish?" She heads over to the pilot's chair, takes as seat, then rolls her shoulders, and reaches for the comms.
[Into the Wireless] Sito says, "Kharon, this is Raptor 2201 requesting permission to launch."
[STC] A slightly weary voice comes over the comms, "Raptor 2201 you are clear for launch. Have a good flight."
[Into the Wireless] Sito says, "Copy, Kharon. Thanks for the hospitality."
"So like you were on your first date?" Tombs adds before he's settling in and probably waiting for a smack from the other officer, still He keeps his eyes straight ahead. "What happened that got em all jumpy?" Brow up- and then a look to the doo-dads on the control panel. "Their S2 is competent, and they seem like they have chips on their shoulders." he admits. "The S2 is a Nikos..PLays her hand close-only enough marines an MP's to sustain a full squad."
"I gather they're all scared we're gonna snatch up to the belly of the big scary Battlestar," Sito replies with a little shake of her head. "It's been rough. The CAG hasn't released his files, but has them ready to go on the orders. He didn't give details, but the ship and demeanor of the crew speaks for itself. Reminds me of a dog's been kicked too much."
"Yup." Tombs adds with a shake of his head. One hand reaching for a latch to hold onto, as he gets ready for the ride of his lifetime, or something equally as lame. Perhaps for Sito to pull her usual- let's try and make the S2 throw up, or hit something routine. "They had to kill their S2, from what I gathered.." as for the cause-it was not given. "We'll have to be careful if Sabah wants personnel. Don't trust em a lick to be able to do their duty without some weird half loyalty." least right now. "Could cause a mutiny- or something if we don't handle it right."
"Shit." The word is succinct, harsh, absent of the usual lilt. "I want those files ASAP. Gods hope that man keeps detailed logs." Sito launches the raptor, and takes it easy. None of the frame rattling antics this time. She's just not in the mood.
"Watch your mouth, sugar bear." comes Tombs response, almost as if he was surprised by the cussing, from the CAG. And there's a glance as the Raptor doesn't lurch- and so he visibly relaxes for a bit. "I'll see if I can't get Krauss to request the same from them-though they have a Major- Might take some damned finagling there." a frown. "Need to get the dog outta of em, and put the fight back in."
Sito goes silent for a moment, spending unnecessary concentration on piloting the raptor toward the Hestia's warm lights. "We better get the information and brief Mehra fast as we can. You know how I feel about tiptoein' through the dang tulips."
Tombs looks back over to Nini, and there's a moment one hand rants to reach out-instead it simoply goes to toying with his collar again. And eyes are focused back on the Hestia. "I agree. I'll send a word on up- with my initial findings-needless to say if they are ever boarded-they don't have enough to keep the ship from being over-run in my estimation.." which could help process things along. "One squad. Counting all their corpsmen, mp's and riflemen.."
"Next time you tell me to watch my mouth," Sito replies to the S2 seated behind her. "I'll watch my boot introduce you to polish flavored toothpaste." The words carry no real venom, and barely register on the threat-o-meter. She's driving, after all. A breathtaking view of Solon II is visible through the viewport as she takes the long way around. "You should have seen the flight board. Medically grounded and KIA enough to light up an entire bar at happy hour. I don't know how they got bent over the rail, but I can tell you that rail was cold." She spares her usual flourishes on 'colder than __'. Just this once.
A grunt and Tombs simply nods. "I'll keep it in mind.." though his words do not have the usual gruffness, or weight to it. Needless to say a simple sorry without saying it. A sniff as eyes look down to Solon II on their little round about back to the Hestia. "From what I can tell- they've had that rail gone in frakkin Canceron dry, right through their ass." silence for a bit. "If they had t' kill their S2 means we got stress from some frakking tough ass shit." ahh the medical marine terms. "Their CO is currently down in Sickbay due to being shot up by Raiders during ground defense." Who knows how that went. "Scrap her and scuttle her I say, take em all with us."
Sito's quiet for a few beats as all of that takes a moment to sink into the soup that bubbles in her brain. You take it off the heat too soon, it's just a watery mess. Too late, and you'll never distinguish the good from the bad. "… Might do well to transfer some, leave a skeleton on, let the escort do an escort. It could be used as a refuel station with a small complement of pilots to scramble in an emergency. We absorb most of the crew and remind them of the advantage beyond tactical." Some of what Marek said earlier is starting to come into a new light. A fuller picture blossoms.
"Nini." Not Captain, or any other loving and official term he could use. Tombs instead goes for a name-not like any one is listening in to them on the channel or shit like that. Unless someone bugged the Raptor while they were gone. "That ship I doubt could limp along with us at all. She looks beat t' frak. Hell if that ship had a dress and red hair, then I'd be lookin for her step father to arrest.." A pause "We need em all, if we got room for em. You leave skeletons, and that ship'll die frakkin quick." And he'll lets that sink in. "I don't wanna leave a damned threadbare squad of marines behind when we can absorb em.." or something. And he's looking back to her. "What will you leave Marek?"
"I wasn't thinking of leaving Marek. He's CAG, means he's got to be a good pilot. It's too much to hope we can drop all the dead weight on the doomed vessel," Sito eases back on the throttle, providing plenty of time to appreciate the view. Who knows how long it'll be available. That's the difference between old pilots and young ones. "Anyone who's too stupid to jump at the opportunity to leave that ship probably should go down with it."
"Keep him a Captain under you then?" a pause as he's trying to suss everything out. "You'll need t' break and mix your squads then. Can't keep em all together or some of the more pig headed ones won't follow- they'll hesitate and want to stay on him." Not that Tombs is trying to conspire-he's just painting the facts as he sees em, and has seen em through the years. There's a reason the man is the S2. "I agree there… Hell if they're stupid-they could be crazy." a faint frown. " 'Pparently they have the usual jock issues." as far as officer trouble goes.
"Pilots are pilots," Nini replies, with a little shrug of her shoulders. "It's all about the job, and when they're not in the air, it's all about the creature comforts. We have plenty of room in our squads to absorb them." She thinks on that for a moment, then concludes. "When we know more. Now it's all just a guessing game. Mutiny is mutiny. If they want to do the cylon's job for them, they'll learn the hard way what it's like to space walk without EVA."
"Creature comforts.." not touching that one Tombs shakes his head slightly, before he's leaning back in to enjoy the view, and the ride for as long as it is lasting. Not one to complain a lick is he. A kiss of his teeth, and there's a slight nod. "We'll out number em at least if it comes to that." he doubts it-but one can never tell. "I'll send my report in th' morning." a pause and Nate falls silent. "What do you have goin on?" sides work, of course.
There's a long pause as she finally turns the raptor from the view and closes on the Hestia, raptor sliding silent through the black of space, approaching slowly and passing the nameplate of the ship. Sito's eyes scan those letters, and it brings a small smile to her lips. "I thought I might take a swim, hit the showers, then grab a hot cup in the Obs. It's only a matter of time before those clankers come back to roost. I'm spending it down as I can get till then."
Hooray for the pauses that can come and drag on in conversation. A faint nod, and he's silent for the most part as he hears the plans of the evening. A look-check of his watch, before he's nodding all the same. "Sounds like a right full evening there. Perks to bein' a Captain who doesn't have to go over AAR's and intelligence reports." A faint smirk there, then it is gone. "If I get a shot-might join you, if you're partial to it." Nate says with a flick of eyes.
"Do not bring that swill y'all call coffee down there in your swelterin' little cave," Nini finally supplies, before she picks up the comms and alerts the Hestia to her approach. With their own ship, she doesn't ask permission. With her own ship, she merely informs.
Tombs chuckles and then readies for the landing. "What the hell do you want me to bring then?" asked simply before he's crossin his arms. in the usual hurry up and wait pose that is adopted by the S2 when he's been roused to be ready to board. "Just my charms and good looks?"
"Maybe you learned ta read a little faster, you wouldn't spend so much time hunkered over your desk," the CAG finally notes, as she comes in on approach to the flight deck. She brings it in easy before flipping a few switches to make minor adjustments, and comes down right atop the flight elevator. "… Well, you could try for charm."
"Maybe if your fly boys wrote in handwriting that didn't look like it came from a fifteen year old girl's journal I wouldn't have to hunker over the damned desk." A little sniping back and forth never hurts, does it. A raise of his brows and he's snickering. "Sure as shit. I ooze charm or something.." And with the landing Tombs is removing his belt. "I'll meet you in the showers if you're lucky. Shouldn't take me long."
The ride down on the elevator is brief, uneventful, and noisy. Nini turns in her seat, switches off the sensors, and waits for a tow to the hangar deck. She turns pale green eyes on the S2. "Don't strain yourself, Lieutenant."
"I never do." said back with a faint smirk, before he's waiting for the usual flick off and go signal from the CAG, then he'll be piling out behind her. Still, Tombs waits for a moment. His own blue eyes watching carefully. "Won't even work up a sweat."
The raptor comes to a halt as the tow is finished. She reaches over to unlock the hatch, then shoves it open. "Better get moving." Sito's eyes reveal nothing, even under that careful glance from the S2. "I won't be awake all night."
Tombs grins, just once, before there's a flick of eyes to the Deck crew, as it almost seems as if the man is about to lean in. "See you soon, sugar." And with that he's going to slip out. He'll find her later with less eyes or something. And with that he's hitting the deck shortly.
