PHD 228: Raised Hackles
Raised Hackles
Summary: A Raptor and a Viper meet in the ready room, and conversation inevitably turns to the battlestar-shaped elephant in the proverbial room.
Date: PHD228
Related Logs: Warm Hearth logs

Kharon – Ready Room, Hangar Deck

Being that it's the middle of the shift, and Kharon's damaged state has put a damper on flight operations, the ready room isn't seeing much use. Which means, for the moment, no one's objecting to Thorn using it as his personal media center. He's sitting at one of the desks, watching a tape on the projector. Looks like Raptor mission footage from several of his sorties.

There's a notebook lying in front of him as well; every couple of minutes Thorn scribbles some notes on one of the few remaining empty pages left in the back.

Coming in, fresh from sim time, with a small stack of papers in a rather thick manilla folder, would be one of the taller Lieutenants in the Air-Wing. Our own, Abraham Hale. Folder which he is carrying though is tossed rather un cerimoniously onto the desk, that Captain Marek mainly uses. After that he newly scarred faced Rabbit is off to where the mugs, and coffee is kept, pausing long enough to look up to what is playing on the projector.

"Hmm. Fancy footwork there." hale finally says as a means of greeting back over towards Komnenos, not trying to interrupt too much. "What's it for?"

A blink and a questioning look pass from Komnenos to Hale as the presence of the latter dawns on the former. Thorn gives his friend a nod of greeting. "Just studying some old tapes. Got t' study for my flight quals." He looks over to Hale, not bothering to pause the tape; he's probably watched it a half dozen times already. "They've already got me flying a CAP here an' there, but I figure there's no such thing as too much preparation, what?"

Hale grins, the lines of the scar quirking up, before he's reaching up to smooth down the line. Apparently, this is something the viper jock is getting used to. All the same he's nodding. "I think you'll be fine. Have you done sim work, an just a CAP rotation in the driver seat?" Might as well ask, see if he can't be of some service. Still when the rest comes out there's a nod as he moves to come over and pop a squat on a desk top close by. Content to enjoy coffee, while he talks. "I'd say. Reminds me when I went through my quals t' be on the faster side of things. I think I watched perhaps 36 hours of tape. Almost lost m' gourd."

"I know th' feeling." Thorn laughs, even though he knows Hale is only kidding on the square. It feels like he's watched that much already, and he's not even done. He leans back in his seat, taking a pair of cigarettes from the pack in his pocket. One is lit in his own mouth, the other offered to Rabbit with a questioning look. "Yeah. Done a bit of sim time, a jaunt or two with Black Cat, and the occasional CAP." There's a grunt. "With Ivory down, and not looking t' come back, we're short a pilot." The fact that there's a battlestar out there with another two whole squadrons of Raptors is conveniently ignored, for the moment. "I'm not too worried, though. Hells, I joined t' fly t' begin with. Just taken a little bloody longer t' get there, is all."

Cigarette is taken and placed in his mouth as the coffee is set aside. Rabbit will never deny someone the opportunity to give him a smoke. And there's a nod given, briefly as he fishes about for his lighter. "Ah, that'd bug me out-though I suspect if I flew quals with her, I wouldn't pass." a smirk, for a moment as flame is found and the smoke ignited. Lighter stowed away, he's nodding with a bit of a grunt. "Better you than me, If I was slotted over- You'd see me trying to gun down raiders with a whole lot of nothing on m' wings." a shake of his head. "Look at the brightside though-" a beat. "You can fly with our remaining nugget."

Thorn laughs. "An' if I see a Raider, it's going t' take willpower at first t' resist throwing my ECO out of his seat an' jamming it myself." There's a pause as something on screen catches his attention, and he jots something down on the notepad before looking back to Hale. "I flew Raptors off of Solaria a bit, too, when they left us short on pilots after a crew rotation. Bloody paperwork frakup… had t' stick about any warm body they could find into a cockpit for a few weeks before they finally sent us enough pilots t' fill out th' roster."

"I mean, y' believe that shit?" Thorn shakes his head. "I won't miss th' bureaucracy, that's for bloody sure."

"Then you'll be fine." a beat and Rabbit offers a grin around his smoke. "As long as you don't throttle your poor ECO." whoever that lucky bastard ends up being. Still there's a nod as he looks back to the sortie footage, eyes following the weevil shaped bird as it scuttles along in the air. "I thought Raptors initially were the way to go. Despite them not being sleek cutters. No- I though if I didn't worry about guns- I would be able to speed abit more. Needless to say I nearly wrecked two- before they sat me down and told me I was to be a viper pilot, or they'd bust me out to become a TACCO." a snicker there. "My height made it a little problematic at first but I survived."

A beat there as he's looking back to Thorn, and there's a nod right back. "I actually can. Sounds like th' normal for the Navy."

"Had a love-hate relationship with Raptors myself, at first," Thorn replies with pursed lips, in between breaths of smoke. "Pretty sure I told y' I joined t' fly Vipers, but they yanked me out as they didn't think I'd make as good a pilot as I would an ECO. And yeah, th' height problem." There's a sympathetic nod and shrug at the mention of height; Anton is one of the few flight crew that comes close to matching the lanky Viper pilot in height. "Got over it, though. I still get t' fly, an' someone's got t' do the job, right? Might as well make it someone who's good at it." Modest, Thorn isn't really. "Not a bad job, either, actually. Not as much glory in it as for you flyboys — " there's a teasing grin at that " — but then again, what is?"

Hale nods with a twirl of his cigarette. "Somehow I can see that." a grin there and another drag there. Easily perhaps one of the more lazy smokers in the wing. He is going to stretch this bitch out, as long as he can. "Seems we got our wires both crossed going in. Bloody hilarious how that works. Perhaps there is a reason for all the torture you go through in basic-so they make sure you can't kill yourself later." A paling there, but then he is brushing past it rather smoothly. "I'd say you're a right bugger t' do it, culley. You seem to have some good reflexes. After all I played you in pyramid. I should know." A smirk- and then it is gone as a smoke filled laugh replaces. "Yeah well, glory or not. I like goin' fast. Bein' the chased more or less for my wings." a shake of his head. "I guess there's glory in it."

"World works in mysterious ways, dunnit?" Komnenos smirks, his own cigarette coming back up to his lips. Neither modest nor a lazy smoker, it seems. A couple smoke rings bubble forth, the mention of trainee suicide passing without comment. "Glory, fah. Glory is nice… speed is better." His voice skips a beat. "Well. Speed, an' coming home alive." There's a pause, and Thorn looks at Hale, an odd expression on his face.

"Speaking of home, an' all that." His lips purse again as he considers his words. "What do y' make of th' Hestia situation so far?" Thorn's tone takes on an almost conspiratorial edge at that last bit.

"Or somethin' like it." The Lieutenant replies, before he's reaching for his coffee, finally remembering the drink for all of the smoking he's been doing. A sniff, and he's nodding once more as if he found a spot on his shoulder- or something just as silly. "Far better. Go fast I say." , however the next bit does catch him a spec off guard, and it shows. There's no real crafted look. But then, Hale is speaking with Thorn. Someone whom he really doesn't put up appearances (if he had any) with anyway. "The Hestia eh.." silence "Dunno yet- though at the same time, I've served on a battlestar before. Would welcome it again if they wanted all of us."

Thorn gives a slow, pensive nod. "Same here. Same class, too, if I remember her lines right. Frankly… I agree with th' latter, there." He shrugs. "All things being equal… Kharon's been hammered t' scrap. Strategically and tactically, she's about useless." Another drag, another smoke ring, and another tap of his cigarette, ash fluttering to the floor. "Something, though… something makes me bloody nervous about th' whole thing. I mean, we've had problems with internal attacks — " For the moment, he doesn't give voice to his concerns as to the Cylon-ness of Jules, only alluding to it. " — on Kharon, an' Hestia's what, three times her size? Not t' mention we don't know anyone aboard her." He shakes his head slowly. "Don't get me wrong… I'm bloody thrilled t' see a battlestar, an' I'd not complain that much if they shipped us over there lock, stock, an' KEW. I'm just amazed no one seems t' be giving much mind t' security in all this. Frak, we still don't know who stole that bloody transmitter and planted it on our hull." Komnenos stops himself before he falls into a rant. "Cylons could be closer than any one of us knows, an' that thought makes me more'n a little frakkin' nervous." A rare and frank admission from the steely ECO. "Wish I could explain myself better than that, but…" Another shrug. "For now, it's naught but a feeling. Hope I'm wrong."

"I'm pretty sure th' Hestia is thinking about that-Haven't they had their command staff an wot not over? Bloody 'ell mate they've done all, but ask us out for a bit of beer 'n tucker. They're watching us- because really. They bloody could leave us here to die. Doubt they will." and with that he leaves some security alone. for the transmitter. "Can't rightly say. So far we've got one sympathizer locked up- another dead. Don't know who could get around to hiding a bloody transmitter without us finding it though now- Maybe a sweep of the ship? But I don' know how we'd find it. Specially if it's been plucked up an hidden." clearly Hale's at a loss there too. "If they're close, Anton. I'd rather be on th' hestia, than here. "

"Marek's not my favorite berk in the world, but I'd take him in a heartbeat over that Sito character." Not much to be said for intra-colonial loyalty, is there? Komnenos shakes his head. "Hestia is concerned about one thing - Hestia. They won't leave us here, we're too valuable a source of replacement personnel and parts… replacements they likely didn't expect t' see." Sen's opinion of the ship is met with a careful nod and slightly widened eyes. He'd known Kharon was on her last legs, but not that her end was so near. "Look… I'm not really sure what I'm trying t' say, here, except that now is a time we all need t' be more watchful, not less." He sighs, fingers tapping restlessly on the metal table. "Some weird frakkin' shit's been going on, and I don't intend t' let it kill me."

Hale shrugs. "She's their CAG. Mind you- I met her while fighting, so I don't know how she is on the deck- but in the air, she had them performing like a well oiled machine, pardon th' phrase, mate." And with that he is shaking his head for a moment. "Oh, I agree with you there brother. Been havin' my hackles up since, Castor got the bomb in his locker." And there's a shake of his head. "Nor do I it mate." and with that he's putting out his cigarette. "Bloody hell." a faint smile given to Thorn. "Buck up- We'll find the blighter an be rid of em, I imagine- BUt don't let your ass hang out of the well, savy?"

"Hnh," Thorn grunts at Hale's estimation of Sito. "I'd wager she didn't impress me on th' deck nearly as much as she impressed you in the air. The whole godsdamn Hestia command staff was treating us like a pack of wayward children when they came over." Still more fingertapping, but finally he steadies himself with a pull from the cigarette. "Believe me, I've never been one t' let my arse hang where it shouldn't." There's a jaunty but halfhearted grin at that.

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