PHD 238: How To Make Friends And Influence CAGs
How To Make Friends And Influence CAGs
Summary: Gresham attends the Martin "Dash" Black School of Callsign Earning.
Date: PHD 238 (12/12/09)
Related Logs: None

Turning his head to watch the Hestia's pilots vacate, Martin grins and hefts the box in his hands. "Guess they have a killboard. Wish I was keeping track all this time, be interesting to see all of our names way high on the board thanks to us grabbing the shit end of the stick early on." Martin murmurs. "So…any luck on that callsign?"

Watching as Sizemore goes, Gresham is now left with Martin on the stairwell as Ramses has slipped into berthings. It seems that the two Kharon pilots are left and relatively safe, for now. A slight rub of his jaw as he fishes his docket from under his arm, to make sure all one pages are in there, plus his medical copies. "Eh, Well, I never kill, so I would be surprised either way." Still he's only flown one mission. "Though I suspect our numbers would be…nice?" A look back over to Martin as he closes the manilla folder and shakes his head. "Not yet, Well it is out of th' Riders hands now. Hopefully our new CAG is a merciful one…though really. A kitten could make me cry."

The hatch to the Berthings open, and a blonde pilot steps out wearing a flightsuit, hair pulled back into a tail. She carries nothing with her, not even a flight helmet. Her pale green eyes scan the hallway, settling on first one, then the other of the pilots standing in the corridor. "Gentlemen."

Martin grins and opens his mouth to say something, but chooses otherwise when the CAG herself steps into the hallway. Arms filled, he nods his head sharply. "Sir." He replies, glancing to Gresham before turning his attention back to Sito. "We're just in the process of moving everything over. Is there any sort of schedule posted, or how much downtime we have before our first CAP?"

Gresham blinks, before he's looking back to Martin. It seems as if fate is often cruel to poor Virgil, as most doubtly, when he asks for Mercy, the CAG just ups and shows. Quickly there's a moving to attention, as the ECO knocks back his Duffel to fall down the stairs. A blink and a look down to it, and then over to Sito. "Sir." Salute up, before he's offering his file over. "Uh. Ahem. Ensign Virgil Gr-gresham reporting sir." A faint blush on his features. Needless to say he's quite embarrassed. Or nervous…Or both.

"The schedules will be posted tomorrow mid-shift, Dash." Sito's voice carries that lilting accent that will undoubtedly soon become extraordinarily familiar. "In the mean time, you boys can get to know the Hestia. I hear tell that little carrier of yours is quite the maze. Still, this is a much larger vessel. I'd hate to see you pass out on the stairwell because you were on Deck 2 with a call out to scramble." She glances over to Gresham. "Ensign Gresham. Still no callsign?" She eyes him for a moment. "We'll have to do somethin' about that."

"Good, good. So this means that pending a scramble order I can go stow this shit and get out my swimsuit. Thank the lords." Martin replies, a big, cheesy grin on his face. Since she's the CAG now, he doesn't have to go out of his way to impress her, instead giving her everything that he is. Turning his head towards Gresham, he nudges him in the ribs. "Hey, all you need to know is that your callsign's going to be something mildly embarassing and maybe a little derogatory if I have any say in that. Also? You can't change it. Nomatter what Leda tells you, you can't change it." He grins, turning towards the CAG. "So are you heading off duty?"

"Yes sir, Uh, No sir." rapidly fired off, as eyes keep darting down to where his poor duffel has slid. Thankfully no thieves have taken it, nor has it been horribly trampled. Still the Ensign caught in the gaze of the CAG is like a mouse being hypnotized by a rather large snake. IE he is scared shitless. "Not yet, I mean no one has given me one yet.." As for Martin's words of encouragement, the Ensign does seem a little relaxed..though for how long that is to be. Unclear. "I can't change it?"

"A bunch of new pilots runnin' around on my ship thinkin' it's vacation time?" Sito shakes her head. "There is no off duty." She glances over to Martin. "On this boat, callsigns are bestowed by the CAG. You be careful what nicknames reach my ears. Never know which one might stick." She looks to Gresham. "You never pick your own callsign, son. Your callsign will find you." She regards the redhead for a long moment, longer than is necessary. "Find an empty bunk to take until your assignment goes through. There's some room in every berth. I suggest startin' in Gold." She thumbs over her shoulder. "Get goin' before one of y'all gets stuck in Black next to Booster."

The color in Martin's face pales away just a little bit as Sito mentions that nicknames do reach her ears. Swallowing hard, he plays his cards face up, clearly unable to hide his reaction. "Well…yeah there's on call but I uh…frak." Martin grunts, tossing the idea of actually getting a dip in the pool right out the frakking window. "I was just kidding." LIE. He also, at this time, throws out the idea of saying that no one's getting stuck in him unless it's Booster's finger. Damn this place. Glancing over her shoulder, he grins and looks back to Gresham. "No what's the fun in that? You earn your callsign, changing it's a douche move."

"I think Ramses is looking out for me sir. She said I could have the bunk under hers for tonight." Though the rest of the words are soaked in by the nugget, as he gives a quick nod. "Aye sir. I'll be sure to do something rather memorable for it..or something. I'd like it to fit." some way or the other. Still he's looking down to his duffel for the last second. "Uh, permission to snatch my meager belongings, sir?" And thus effectively hide? That would be Virgil's plans.

Sito regards Martin for a moment, making with the sustained eye contact. If even if doesn't study her eyes, she's looking dead at his. Then her gaze finally flicks to Gresham. "Pilots never disappoint." She thinks a tic, then adds, "Ensign Gresham. If you hear any strange noises from Stonewall's bunk in the middle of the night, do not go investigatin'. It could end messy for you." She does not elaborate. "As you were, Gentleman. I'll see you for assignments tomorrow."

"That or profiles never disappoint. Gods I'd love to hear what you've heard." Martin says under his breath in Sito's direction before he tests the weight of his belongings. Glancing up the hallway towards the berthings, he sighs and heads past her. "Alright, Giddyup, Gresh. If the curtains are closed, just poke your hand around in there. If you don't feel anything and there's no nameplate, the bunk's yours."

"What do you mean, Strange noises?" That is all Gresham can think of which of course is going to have him go investigating if he does hear anything odd, or off. Still he's watching Sito for a moment and then a puzzled look is passed to Martin, almost as if to ask silently: WHAT THE FRAK? A cough and he's moving out of the CAG's way, before hurrying down to snag up his belongings. A curious look to make sure the other CAG is not in ear's way before he's coming back up to join Martin.

"Of course." a shake of his head. "Geeze, was it me, or did the north wind blow outta her crotch.." this said a lot softer for less echos, as he will be going to hide, forth with.

<FS3> Sito rolls Alertness *CASUAL*: Success.

CAGs. You know, they're strange creatures. Most COs have 360 vision, like mama when the cookies are done bakin' and the kiddies come callin' to investigate. "I'll see you a mite sooner, Cooter." She turns, pale green eyes over her shoulder locked on Greshem. "I like my coffee hot, black, and ready at zero five thirty. Do not. Be late. You can find the Ready Room on your own."

"You know…" Martin pauses, glancing back to Sito. He gives her a quiet grin, suddenly liking her just a little bit more. His words, meant for Gresham, are nice and low. "…that's not all to entirely different from how I got mine, Cooter." Martin says, making it official. Gods help them if anyone catches on to an ECO named Cooter and a pilot that's nicknamed Boner…

And if the colour could drain out of the young ensign's face any quicker…Well it would be a frakking world record. Still the Ensign just remains frozen in time. Finally there is a quick nod applied back to the CAG. "Y-yes sir." Okay so now he has to find a bunk, then find the Ready Room, march back, pass out and set an alarm to be up and ready. Thankfully math is on his side in this. "Well.. my first day just got better.." Gresham adds, before he's looking back to Martin. "Good company yeah?" With that he's clutching his duffel closer and moving to head into the bunks.

"Well, yeah…look at the bright side. One less callsign issue to deal with and you've got a hell of a story to go along with it." Martin grins moving to the hatch. With a box and a duffel, he lets Gresham do the honors. "However, know this. If you're asked how you got the callsign, leave out zero details. Don't wax it over. She's already assumed the risk for the story including talk of her ladybits. Learn to tell that story better than the origin of our people."

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