| Air Wing, Roommates |
| Summary: | In which some of the Areion's "Spectres" are welcomed to crash on Cerberus in preparation for the upcoming Operation SILENT MASTIFF. We're all friends here. |
| Date: | 10 Jan 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Kick the Dog |
| Players: |
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| Ready Room - Deck 7 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| With the hatches at the rear of the room, the walkways on both sides slope down towards the dais at the front of the room. The stadium seating forms a partial semi-circle around the speaking podium and provides enough seats for all three hundred members of the Air Wing. The walls are adorned with the patches of each squadron aboard and their mottos stenciled in white lettering above each one. Behind the podium is a set of large LCD screens that can display any matter of material from reconnaissance to maps to gun camera footage. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #318 |
Monday morning Air Wing briefing and the gang's all here. Or, well, they right well should be in ten minutes, the appointed time it is set to start, unless they have CAP or some other pressing duty. Major Cidra Hahn is already at the podium, clean and pressed in her duty blues. Perhaps a bit more shined-up than usual. Well, they have guests. Next to her at the podium is a man some will recognize as the squadron leader of the Areion's "Spectres" contingent of Vipers, Major Dirk "Birdie" Finch. They are talking between themselves in a low undertone as the pilots and ECOs file in. Major Finch's men and women are already here. A half-dozen "Spectres" from the Areion seated in the front row, in their flight suits with squadron path on the shoulder prominent. Each with a duffel bag set down by their seats. The CAG gave prior warning they'd be bunking on Cerberus for a bit, and apparently she was serious. They all look attentive enough, even the normally emotive LT Gabriel "Fiasco" Marduk and CPT Lana "Dizzy" Drake. Maybe their SL has mandated best behavior, as Finch looks jaw-set serious as he settles whatever particulars he's settling with Cidra. The topic for today is the upcoming training and coordination exercises for Operation SILENT MASTIFF. And Cerberus' new roommates, of course. They obviously aren't going to make themselves easy to ignore.
Evandreus has set up shop in the back of the room, Stiffy at his side trying her best to distract him as he gets the little digital video recorder set up on an altogether spindly-looking tripod that seems intent on collapsing on him every five seconds, much to his backseater's amusement. And, odd to say, the circumstance seems to tickle him, too, just a little, as frustrating as it is. Either that or Stiffy's laughter is just that infectious. He finally bites his tongue and gets the last pin in place, pulling both hands back from the tripod as if casting a magic spell to make everything stay together. Who knows where the little contrption came from, but it probably wasn't much more than twenty cubits in The Real World.
Captain Vakos shows up on time, tugging her uniform jacket flat just before entering the ready room proper. She has her usual serious, no-nonsense airs about her, although there is a bit of a resentful narrowing of the eyes as she begins to recognize Spectres mixed in with Cerberus' pilots. It's just a hint, though; she's not going to make trouble for Major Hahn, but the notion of putting up with egotistical Evocati for gods know how long is not something she was looking forward to. She finds a seat at the end of a row, but rather than sitting, she stands, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed as she often does during before these meetings.
Wade steps inside the Ready Room, and it seems that he just recently took a shower. The man is wearing his flight suit and carries his helmet with him. Next CAP? Seems to be the case. He takes a moment to look around the room and offers a nod to the Spectres "Morning guys." Now, he looks at Toast and Birdie "Major…Major" A lot of high ranks it seems. With that done and given that the front seats are taken, he moves to the third row, taking a seat there. Helmet placed on the floor, he leans back against his seat and takes a deep breath.
At least when Sawyer shows up in the Ready Room she's blissfully not wearing a flightsuit this time around. It should be a small consolation to some, that's for certain. She slips in with some last minute stragglers, her heels clicking in sharp contrast to the booted feet of the masses. Up the side aisle she goes to select a seat in the back, smoothing out her skirt over her thighs before settling into one of the chairs. Should she catch the CAG's eye, there is a pencil ticked off her forehead in mock-salute that'll have to pass for a greeting.
Quinn might not be -actively- flying, but she was still the LSO as long as she didn't pop, so Maggie's in on the briefing and has plans on listening to everything. The very, very pregnant Captain does not fit into anything near a uniform any longer, so she's just in a pair of oversized sweats, the only thing that counts as materniy clothing on board a battlestar, it seems. She waddles into the room slowly, just a bit breathless from the journey here, and heads to the nearest open seat to lean back and collapse down into. Tiiiimmmbbbbeer.
Roland has grabbed a seat in the back, helmet at his feet. He leans back against the chair back arms across his chest. He nods over to Wade as he slips in, but glances back up front as the CAG starts to speak.
"Good morning, all," Cidra offers to sundry as the Air Wing drifts in. "Be seated. I shall not keep you long. We are not all so pressed as we were when double CAPs were the order of the day for a dog's age, but we all have our duties." Sawyer is spotted, smallest of nods offered to the reporter. Here at the CAG's invitation, apparently. Major Finch eyes Sawyer with obvious confusion and mild disapproval, but it's not his house, so he confines his approval to just a grunt.
Down front the Evocati's heads turn to watch the Cerberus pilots file in. The one callsigned "Fiasco" pumps his fist up at them as if in greeting, though he restrains himself from giving a 'Woo!' A pale, dark-haired female pilot who some might recognize as LT Allison "AWOL" Moran nods politely when she spots Wade. Otherwise, they just sit and watch. Ready for the show to begin, such as these things ever are.
Well, it's happening so, better make the best of it. That's what Wade thinks. AWOL gets a polite nod from Wade as well, and there is a faint smile there too. As for Fiasco, the man lifts his right fist at shoulder level to return the greeting in the same or at least similar style. He also nods to Rolan and then just clears his throat, moving his attention back to Cidra who is now addressing the group. The look from Birdie is noticed and he follows his gaze to find, Sawyer! Wade nods to her and offers a smile.
Khloe quietly takes her seat without so much as a fanfare, nod to the front row, or anything else. All eyes are on Toast. And for those who know her body language by now, she's sitting extremely rigid, with legs crossed, one ankle resting on opposite knee. Adgitated Khloe is adgitated, but it's a day that ends in -Y.
Sawyer flashes Wade a wink along with a hint of a smile, but her attention soon turns to her pad of paper. There's some quick notations made, no doubt noting the notables in the room and their rank for whatever article this might end up in. The only thing she has against the minor ripple of tension in the room at her presence is a beguiled smile.
Evandreus has got it, now, and he brings one hand slowly up to hover over top of the recorder, first two fingers extending to just— gently— brush the record button; sending, of course, the flimsy tripod crashing down again. He fumbles for the machine proper while the little legs go tottering to the floor, and Stiffy's got her fists half-in her mouth trying not to cackle over the beginning of the briefing while Evan crosses his legs and just settles in to hold the recorder in his hands, holding it up in casually angled hands. Totally meant for that to happen. A slip of a smile for Soybean as she takes attendance, and then his attention's on the little contraption, which begins to blink red in front. Recording.
Roland watches the Evandreus show for moment without comment. He lets out a long breath, and turns his attention back towards teh breifing. He pulls a pen from his flight jacket to make some notes if he needs to.
"As you are all by now aware, on January the second our Lieutenants Kal Trask and Psyche Devlin and Lieutenant Junior Grade James Roland…" Slightest of nods to the personnel named from Cidra as she gets going. "…discovered what appears to be a Cylon manufacturing facility - or foundry - some distance from Tauron space. Colonel Pewter has devised an operation to destroy if, code name Silent Mastiff." Said without even a smirk. She's long taught herself not to giggle at military op names. "You should have the full details on the preliminary plan in your briefing packets, more details shall be forthcoming in the days ahead. But the upshot of this is, it shall require closer coordination than we have ever under-taken with our brethren aboard the CEX Areion." Slight bow of her head to Major Finch. "During our time of relative respite here over the planet Reza, we shall be undertaking a series of training exercises and to make coordination simpler, Major Finch and some of his squadron shall be sharing our bunk space. Captain Adia Valance of the Checkmates -" Who are notably absent from the briefing today. "-have taken up similar residence on the Areion. I hope you shall show our brothers and sisters in flight good hospitality and fraternity, for we all now fight and fly together." She pauses, to direct a long look around the room to see how that drops, though she does not appear to be finished."
Wade remains in silence while Cidra does the talking. He does take his briefing documents and starts going through them, looking for key points before going in full depth. His attention moves back to Cidra at the moment she looks at the room and he doesn't look around like she does, he just moves his gaze back to the documents.
Khloe sits with her arms crossed, characteristic stony frown on her face; she's taking a page from Cidra's book and is attempting to be inscruitable. With just the faintest lift of an eyebrow, she neither breaks her attentive gaze towards Cidra nor looks towards any of the Spectres.
Evandreus reacts, himself, less that he seems intent on playing with the little recorder, zooming in on Cidra and then out again, angling it to see what sort of reaction shots he can catch on video for Licksies' later perusal. But he doesn't seem surprised, or dismayed; he's resumed his mantle of genial amiability, to some degree.
Sawyer flicks her gaze up once or twice, but she's intent to get down the meat of Cidra's words while they still hang on the air. Like Evan behind his camera, she turns once or twice to gauge the reaction of the crowd to the temporary merger between the two ships, and then her pencil is scritch scratching again.
Roland glances down at the information packet as his name is called. He shuffles through the pages pulling out one of the diagrams, and holding it out in front of him.
Quinn is still just listening, letting others take the notes and ask the questions. She's just happy to be here and paying attention. She does, however, slump a bit deeper into her chair, doing her best to get comfortable in the thing. One lazy hand drifts quietly up and down her round, aching belly.
Cidra steps a little aside now. "I give the floor over to the good Major Dirk Finch to explain our forthcoming exercises in more detail." And so she does, stepping aside some so Finch can have the podium.
Finch grunts before speaking, harsh baritone voice probably an odd contrast to Cidra's projected alto. "Hospitality and fraternity and kicking Cylon ass. That's the order of the day, troops. And we're going to have to be damn sharp. It's been awhile since we've seen any real heavy combat-" And does he sound almost sorry? "-but I'm confident we can get ourselves whipped back into shape. This should be fun, but remember, training isn't a game. Just preparation for cold reality." Fun guy. "Lieutenant Colonel Baer and Major Hahn thought you'd all benefit from another game of…Raptorball?" He sounds dubious as he says the name. "Well, I guess it's good for Viper-Raptor coordination. Or something. Times will be posted. We'll also be making use of what Toast here tells me are your improved Cylon sim programs."
Finch sounds dubious about them being much improved, but he's careful not to scoff /too/ much. "We'll be pairing off for this one. One of my Spectres with a Black Knight. Goal will be to see which pair of 'wingmen' can put down the most Raiders the fastest - or just survive - in a prepared simulator exercise. You'll get your 'wingman' assignments for these sessions after we break. Toast has the sims reserved for these sessions throughout this week and next. Raptorball will be mixed teams, too. We're all friends here." Gruff, but he does more or less sound like he means it.
Kicking Cylon Ass, that's something Wade definitely enjoys doing. Well, he doesn't really like when the Cylons kick /his/ ass but, alas…you can't have the good without the bad, or so they say. Folder with documents is now closed and he pays attention to what Finch is saying. The man lifts a hand to rub his fingers over his cheek at the idea of pairing Spectre-Black Knight. That should be….interesting, to say the least. He does aim to lift one hand but doesn't get to, after all, his question was already answered. Said question was 'Who's flying with who?' So, time to wait. The idea of Raptorball? He likes it. Needless to say, he is wanting some payback.
Spectres and Black Knights, living together, mass hysteria. That's precisely what's running through Khloe's mind right now, and the mention of paired operations in an attempt to rack up the highest kill-counts is something that does not look like it agrees with her. In fact, some of her sticks might have heard her talk about "keeping score" and how it's not the heart of good Viper piloting. She lets out a soft, low "hmph" at this announcement, but makes no other sounds of approval or disapproval.
Evandreus keeps chewing slowly on his tongue, watching the scene unfold in the kind of grainy display, then lifting his eyebeams over the top of the device to give the people down front an unrelayed looking-at.
Finch's dark-eyed gaze fixes on Khloe as he speaks. Like he's sizing her up. He continues to regard her as he steps aside, handing the floor back to Cidra. "Thank you, Major," Cidra says politely. "Lastly, of more interest to our Raptor contingent. As soon as the Deck is able, we shall be commencing fitting part of our force here with amplifiers that can link into the Areion's advanced ECM network as assist in the deployment of its anti-Cylon weapon which has come to be casually known as The Gun. You all saw it deployed over Tauron to great effect, when those Raiders that came upon us on December the twenty-eighth were neutralized by its burst. We see only the good in expanding its reach, both in our capital ships and in our Raptors. Our Early Elevens squadron, and half our Harrier Raptor, shall receive these modifications. For now, our Providers and the other portion of our Harriers shall continue to run standard. I would like to have a baseline for comparison in how these mods effect the overall Raptor ship before committing to a full over-haul. Raptor pilots, you shall receive specific training on how to use these ECM capabilities in the field in the coming weeks." Pause. She seems to be winding to the end of this. "Any questions before we adjourn?"
Roland begins stuffing the pages back in order as he hears the breifing is about to end. He glances from Finch following his gaze to Khloe, and back again. Sitting up a little bit as the CAG starts to speak again.
Oh man. Don't ask if there are any questions when there is a reporter in the room. Sawyer looks about to raise her pencil and ask something genuinely uncomfortable, but suddenly she seems to refrain. She's a guest here, afterall, and this isn't a press conference. Whatever can be asked may just well wait for privacy.
At this moment, Wade just leans back against his seat again, as if getting comfortable. It seems that there are going to be a hell of a lot of changes around, modification, assignments…a lot of work. The way Finch looks at Khloe is noticed but the doesn't look over his shoulder to see what his SL is doing. Nope.
Khloe's eyes finally divert to the side, finding Finch's. Another slight narrowing of her eyes, and she's regarding him much in the same way he is her - sizing up. Or at the very least, she simply doesn't trust the man. But being a superior rank, she's not about to say anything. Just… eye him.
If Evan's aware of the tension in the room, he doesn't do anything to engage in it. He records the proceedings sedately and gives Cid and the Finch each a dim, warm smile in turn.
Cidra's brows do arch some at Sawyer in the back. Perhaps bracing herself. But it does not come, and with her business concluded she's content to let it lay at that. "The winners of our Raptorball match shall receive an extra hour of shore leave on the civilian ship Elpis for the following week and an additional week's stock of vouchers for entertainment at Colonial Pete's. As ever, these can be traded as you see fit. The victor from the Knights in our little Raider contest shall get an extra *three* hours leave and their choice of one of Lieutenant Colonel Baer's fine cigars, or a pick from his store of liquor and-or chocolate. I hope we shall all enjoy each other's company and learn to better operate as a unit. On that note, dismissed. Spectres, welcome aboard. You shall be taking the Checkmates place in Cerberus' half of the patrol rotation for the duration of your stay here. Schedule is posted on the hangar deck." And that is that. They are loosed to mingle. Or flee.
Roland sits up nearly at attention when he hears that. The words flash in front of him, as if in neon, Colonel….Fine… Cigar.." He's suddenly paying rapt attention.
Bli-leep. The little camera at the back of the room puts a sort of exclamation point on the end of the proceedings from Evan's perspective. Not that he smokes. Or drinks. Or likes chocolate. But there are two sweet babes with his name on them waiting for him over on Elpis, after all. The man himself, however, just eases back and slides the gizmo into a pocket.
With the meeting reaching it's end, Wade stands up from his seat and arches his back a little. He looks around the room now, and right after that, he starts moving towards the left, to get away from the lines of seats. "Hey Captain" finally says Wade to Khloe now that she is relatively closer to him. Now, to Sawyer "Sooo…strange you didn't ask anything. Or should I ask, what stopped you from asking?" He smiles at that and then looks at the podium. Prizes? Yeah, there are some of those that sound nice. Chocolates, gooood. Cigars? If he wins them, he'll sell them to Roland, period. His attention drifts to the Spectres now, scanning all the faces.
Right. Khloe is one of those aforementioned flee-ers. She snaps to her feet, booted heels striking the deck with a thump, pulls her uniform jacket flat, and makes a casual break for the exit. Naturally, she's likely going to get stopped, no doubt needled by one of the Evocati. She barely gives Wade a nod on her way by.
Roland stands, and tries to think what they said abotu pairings. He blinks a bit in surprise and nods over Khloe as she escapes, "Poppy."
Indeed, meeting over, Maggie finally sits up a bit straighter in her chair and gives a touch of a groan as she considers getting up. Three, two… Alley-oop! She's up, mostly, giving an embarrassed smile in the direction of any of the unfamiliar pilots who might have caught sight of that less than graceful activity. Maybe she can get out of the room without any stares or disregarding remarks, since she clearly wasn't the professional sort of pilot the Cerberus wanted to show to the other ship.
As things draw to a close, Sawyer flips the her notebook closed and threads the pencil into the spiral. Palming the thing, she slips to her feet with another prim press of her palm against the material of her skirt. Her smile is enigmatic as possible at Wade's question. "Even I have morals, Wade. And the questions I had are better suited to a different time and place. When all this is through, maybe you can buy me a drink on the Elpis with a few of your well deserved and hard won vouchers, hmm?"
Finch does indeed make an attempt to waylay Khloe. "Hey. Poppy, right?" He looks his fellow SL up and down. Like he's sizing her up. He seems to trust his Spectre pilots from the Areion to disperse as they're told. Which they do, though a few linger to mingle.
LT Allison "AWOL" Moran in particular angles over toward Wade. "Hey, Drips. Good to see you again."
Cidra, for her part, strides that way as well. Though Sawyer is her destination. "Ah. Miss Averies. Properly boring all around, I trust?" It's faintly teasing. Faintly.
Marko leaves, heading towards the Deck 7 [Out].
Khloe comes to a halt, stiffening - she squares off her shoulders and faces Finch directly. "Yes, sir, Major Finch," she responds, in that clear tone of voice that one might use when being addressed by a superior officer. "Is there something I can do for you, sir?" Almost imperceptible narrowing of the eyes, but everything about her posture suggests rank-respect.
"You do?" asks Wade, looking surprised at Sawyers statement. Enough that he looks over her shoulders and sides. Of course, he is kidding and it shows in the smile he shows her. "I would like to hear those questions, you know…I bet they are, juicy" To this, he nods and then arches both eyebrows "A drink huh?" To this, he chuckles and nods "We'll see, we'll see…" Now, he looks at Cidra and nods to her "Major" but since she is addressing Sawyer, he doesn't stick his nose in. AWOL, gets another smile form him and he moves closer to the Woman "AWOL, good to see you again as well. Are you enjoying your first day in the Cerberus?" He shows her an honest smile, one that easily holds itself.
"Guess if you want to know the questions, you'll make with the drink." Sawyer quips to Wade before it's Cidra that garners her full attention. "There's never a dull day, Major. Only a dull perspective. Thanks for granting me audience and when you're off-duty soon, I'd be obliged if we could have some one on one time." Uh-oh. Maybe /that's/ the particular time and place Sawyer was referring to.
Quinn slips out the door quietly.
Roland opens his mouth to ask his SL a question, but is cut off as she spins to to talk to Finch. He coughs, and grabs his helmet, moving past them, and out the hatch to the deck beyond.
Evandreus takes several long moments to disassemble the remains of the tripod which had collapsed onto the ground, fingers working the joints with patient, deliberate motions, collapsing it all up to a palm-sized bundle of rods, hardly seeming to mind that Stiffy's climbing right over top of him trying to get out while he loiters. When he stands, she's long gone, but he seems tentatively to have decided to stay and do the being social thing. Easing up out of his seat, he heads on down toward where the Popsicle and the Finch are chatting. He doesn't say much. Which is to say, he doesn't say anything. Just sort of looms aimlessly behind Khloe, peeps over her shoulder and lifts a bundle of rods in a hello to the less familiar of the Majors in the room.
Roland leaves, heading towards the Deck 7 [Out].
Cidra simply nods to Sawyer. Inscrutably, as is her way. "I could use a drink or…something, when I have a moment," she says simply to the reporter. With a side look to Finch, though she does not interrupt his conversation with Khloe. With that, and a parting "Duncan" to Wade, she brushes past them.
AWOL, a woman of medium height with the fair skin of a long-term space-farer and dark hair and eyes, smiles a little at Wade. "Hope you're as sharp in the cockpit as I've heard, Drips. I put in to be your wing, in the little Raider game Toast and Papa devised. Don't make me look bad." But it's said teasingly, and in a friendly sort of way, dry as her manner is. As for Cerberus she says, "It's big. Areion's an escort carrier. Built compact. If I get lost, I trust you can give me directions, eh?"
When pseudo-plans are made with the CAG, Sawyer likewise finds it an opportune time to slip out leaving the Air Wing to their Air Wingy things.
"Call me Birdie," Finch says to Khloe. Tone still gruff, but it's friendly enough. In his way. The man is obviously *very* sure of himself. He extends a hand to her cordially enough, however. "There aren't as many Spectres as you have Knights, so we'll have to do some trading in terms of pairs in the upcoming game. I figured we'd be flying together for your match, though." He says it like it's a done deal. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you're made of. You Regulars have surprised me in places." It's supposed to be some sort of compliment.
Wade arches both eyebrows in surprise at what AWOL says and he smiles "You did huh? Well, I'll certainly make sure to not make you look bad" He chuckles a little at that and he says "I had an outstanding mentor, what can I say. I'm looking forward to that game." She'll understand what he is talking about of course. The man now looks around the Ready Room and back to AWOL, it is a big lady indeed, and certainly, should you get lost, I can give you directions. "You guys are going to head to the Berths and get settled in? I haven't really looked at the Check…err…at the Spectres schedule." He is on a rather friendly mode right now.
Eyebrow going up, Poppy takes Birdie's offered hand, and gives it a firm shake. She's got strong hands, stemming from not only being a practiced Viper jock, but from her daily calesthenics. Her gaze remains with a stoic half-frown, as usual, when dealing with most folks. "If that's your preference, sir," she says, not indicating the name-preference or flight-preference. "We'll see what Lieutenant Colonel Baer and Major Hahn come up with. I'm sure it'll be challenging and rewarding for both our air groups." She lifts her chin slightly at the mention of 'Regulars'. "Well, not everyone has the benefit of leading-edge aeronautics; some of us have to rely on our training. Hopefully we'll be able to continue to… surprise you."
AWOL is friendly as well, though still serious. Serious seems to be an underlying mode of operation for her. Wade's 'mentor' remark gets a nod from her. "Yeah. Me, too. I figure we'll do all right." It's said a touch somberly. "Right. Berthings first. Then we've got the sims reserved so Birdie can show us your training modules. We'll be starting on patrols from here tomorrow. I'll see you around."
Birdie has strong hands, too, but he doesn't make any overt attempt to pump Khloe's more then necessary. "It is my preference, yes. And you need leading-edge skills for the aeronautics we use to be worth a damn. Not every pilot can handle it, but I hear you're one of the ones who's up to the challenge. Haven't compared notes with another squadron leader from outside the Areion for awhile. We've had a hell of a time of it. But I hear you have as well."
Evandreus looks aside and away from Khloe, ears pulling back in something not-quite-a-smile, eyes closing a moment when she returns Finch's invitation to informality with more sirring. But he composes himself, giving a scratch at the back of his neck with his free hand before he goes back to quietly attending the conversation at hand, perching on the back of a nearby seat.
Wade nods to AWOL's words and says "Well, let's go then, I'll go with you and then head to the Deck, gotta start Pre-Flight" He smiles a little at this and then adds "We'll do great" Now, he nod and his attention is stolen by Birdie just for a moment when he mentions that only hot shit pilots can fly the modded birds. I'll show you, you'll see.. Looking back at AWOL, he motions for her to follow and also other Spectres that might be hanging out there. "You'll like those modules, at least they are not Colonial standard so that's always a Plus. Colonial Standards are kinda boring if you ask me." Colonial Standard meaning the regular programs found on every battlestar. With that said and if she follows, he'll start making his way towards the Berths.
Cidra lingers in the Ready Room to tidy up, for her part. Organizing her notes, making a few additional ones for information she'll need to dole out later. Evandreus is spotted. "Bunny. Very good to see you up and about. These things have not been the same without you."
AWOL does indeed follow Wade, falling into step easily beside him. "Non-standard keeps things interesting," is her dry agreement to all that as she exits.
"We've definitely learned from the experience, sir," Khloe says noncommitally to Finch. "And while I don't claim to be amongst the best pilots on Cerberus, I've been recommended by the CAG to participate in your Seven-point-Five loaners. I'm not even sure what my own particular flight style is that could be emphasized by your technicians - I consider myself a regulations pilot who doesn't keep track of kills. No real chip on my shoulder, sir." There's a slight clenching of her jaw towards the end, but her tone remains even and respectful towards Finch.
"Cid Space," Bunny gives his own Boss Lady a tender little smile; he seems a great deal back in his right mind; or else he's just jammed whatever was wrong with him back into that hole it'd been living in prior to coming out and making a fuss. But that's what the shrinks are for. "Stiffy kept my seat warm for me," he assures her, then, more seriously, though no less warm-heartedly, "It's good to be back. Medical's no place to spend all day. I mean. 'Less you're a doctor, eh?"
"No real chip, huh?" Birdie says it mildly. "Well, we'll see how it goes. Heard you guys've had quite a bit of experience. You just got jumped up to Captain, yeah?" He clearly knows the answer is somewhere in the neighborhood of 'yes', but for now the conversation is still polite.
"So say we all," Cidra says firmly, as to Medical not being a place to linger. She leaves it at that. "Clear eyes and steady hands, Doe, and I hope you shall fly truer from now on, yes?" Slight arc of her brows.
Khloe nods slightly to Finch. "Yes, sir, as the Knights needed a squadron leader. As our record proves, the Knights are doing better than expected, considering the circumstances - with or without my previous hard leadership experience. But we're muddling through."
Evandreus can't quite hide the little pang of hurt in his eyes when Cid makes comment on his previous behavior, unsure whether she's speaking figuratively or literally; either way, it stings a little. But he shoves that away wherever he's keeping the rest of it, just tossing the CAG a bright smile. "Anything for you, Cid," he tells her, "You know that."
"Muddling. Yeah. I've heard they've had a hard time of it. We all have. Frakking toasters." Birdie pauses and adds, with apparent sincerity sincerity, "Sorry about Salt." He seems to think it'll mean something. Though who knows what, really. "Must've been a hell of a stick. Seems to've left quite an impression on your CAG. Or so Papa tells me, at least."
"I barely knew Salt," Khloe admits. "And as far as what the Major and the Lieutenant Colonel are discussing, that's none of my business, sir." She nods slightly, eyes drifting towards the exit hatch. "I have duties to attend to, sir, if you don't mind me leaving. It was good to meet you, face to face."
If Cidra has some greater meaning in her words to Evandreus, she does not elaborate. She merely nods to him. "For the ship, Doe. It is a duty upon us all. Do well to it." She seems about to take her leave with that. Though something in the conversation between Khloe and Finch draws a wide-eyed look from her. Hard to tell what precisely. She gawks for a moment, before catching herself. And then murmurs to Evandreus, "Well, I must be about my duties. As you were, Doe." And off she goes.
"Good meet you. See you in the black," Finch replies with a grunt to Khloe. Then he also marches off, duffel bag over his shoulder. Man's got to unpack.
Evandreus is already as he was. Sort of hunched there leaning on a chair back, waiting on a spare moment to say hello to this new fellow about to move into berths. He looks from Cid to Popsicle and Birdie, then back again, mouth opening in prelude to some sort of question, only to hear Cid taking her leave, instead. And then the Finch is flying off, himself, and… oh. Oh, well. There'll always be berthings. He watches the guy leave, then stands up, tossing the bundle of rods into the air and letting it flip once before he catches it again, heading on up and out.