| Coffee, Cancer Sticks, and Fruit Cups |
| Summary: | Marko happens upon a dozing Quinn. Coffee, smokes, and fruit cups are discussed. |
| Date: | 30 May 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | TBA |
| Players: |
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| Deck 3 - Observation Deck |
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| With a quiet view to the stars, this tends to be one of the more popular 'quiet areas' of the Cerberus. Up front is a small-unseated area for ceremonies or other activities while the seating rises up behind it. Each level rises up behind the one before it, comfortable chairs and couches set up for crewmembers to relax, get some work done or even take a nap. A large armored plate is lowered during Condition One to protect the interior against a breach in the glass. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #94 |
Aha! Thar she blows! "Flight, Flasher, tally-ho! Target in sight." he chuckles to himself, pausing before he moves to wake her up to take in the sight of the usually fiery captain in such innocent repose. "Ah….isn't that so frakkin' cute you could just puke your guts out?" he asks himself with a chuckle. "Cap?" he asks, moving forward to shake her by the shoulder gently. "Cap?"
Quinn jerks almost immediately, her eyes flying open, breath coming in a short gasp, "'mup! … I'm up…Whoa, hey, Flasher…. sorry… didn't… Didn't mean to fall asleep. Hey." Maggie actually blushes a bit underneath her freckles as she realizes she fell asleep on the damn obs deck again. Goodness, maybe Leonis really did get to her if all she's done is sleep for a week straight, pretty much. "…How are things?" She clears her throat, trying to sit up straighter.
Quinn lies in repose across a pair of couches on the front row of couches, red hair spilling across them as she rouses, blinking herself conscious again. Marko, for his part, stands with a clipboard in one hand, pen behind his ear and a curious, eager expression on his face. "Eh, busy, but what else is new?" the ECO shrugs, giving a bit of a smirk. "Was hoping you'd be in here. I've got some questions I need to ask you."
Constin enters the Obs deck at about the time Quinn spasms back into wakefulness. Blue eyes narrowed in curiosity at the unfolding scene. "Huh," the big man mutters under his breath, forefinger tapping idly against the cover of a book he carries in his right hand. "Pilots," he muses with a tight grin and shake of his head.
Quinn lofts a brow to Marko at the comment of questions, she pulling that hand off her stomach to rub at her eyes now, waking herself up a bit more. "Sure, flasher, any time…" And then the big Corporal comes in and Quinn genuinely smiles for a moment. It seems she's become rather fond of the man. "Corporal." She greets warmly, her voice husky with lingering fingers of rest.
"Well, it's about the gear they've got down on Leonis." Marko says, taking a couch near enough to Quinn to speak to her quietly. "Do you know what kind of computer Sawyer's got down there?" he asks. "And does anyone else have any kind of computers down there?"
"Morning, sir," Constin drawls dryly to Quinn's greeting. Marko is eyed briefly, and the word is repeated: "Sir." Booted steps move him toward the couches, although he's aiming at the front romw of chairs nearby, rather than the couches themselves. While Quinn answer's the Ensign's query, Constin holds further words.
Quinn shakes her head quietly, a frown decorating her lips. "I… I have no clue, Flasher, honestly. I… ain't a computer's girl and was pretty uselessly distracted most of the time on the surface, sadly. I'm sorry." She looks almost embarrassed that she doesn't know this more. As Constin greets them both so formally, she waves it off. "Relax, Constin…we're all off duty."
"Heya, Corporal." Marko replies with a friendly nod. "How's your world?" he inquires. "Yeah, no need to stand on ceremony." he adds before turning back to Quinn. "Well…..frak." he sighs. "That's that genius plan shot in the ass by cold, harsh reality." he grumbles, dropping his clipboard to the deck with a clatter. "Gods, but I am feeling frakking USELESS here…."
"Yeah, ah guessed that when you were waking up," Constin grins back at the Major. "Suit y'self, Maggie," he adds to the word 'relax'. "Mah world's still turning. Coll had her hearing today," he directs to Quinn, before eyeing MArko again with a tight smile. "How's life among the airy fairies?"
Quinn frowns a hint to Marko at his mention of the plan. "…What was your idea? Who knows, it might still be doable. Talk to Alessandra, maybe she remembers…?" Maggie offers gently, almost hopefully, but then she looks back up to Constin and that frown deepens as she hears about Coll's trial, her expression rather more worried and protective now. "How'd that go?"
"Okay, I'll do that, Cap." Marko replies, bending to retrieve his clipboard. "Yeah, what's the story with that? They don't honestly think Coll was responsible for that, do they?" he asks, sounding incredulous that anyone could seriously entertain the notion.
"Coll was in good spirits after," Constin tells Quinn. "Jay-Ay-Gee is consulting, should have an answer by morning." Looking to Marko, the Corporal's good humor fades in a hurry. "Deck crew actually cheered when she got detained, sir. There's a lot of folks on this boat who don't know what to be thinking, and not many of them know Laurie. She's from offship, with no provable record, and was strung out into a twitchy mess. Yeah, some honestly think she could've done it."
Quinn shakes her head quietly, "Well, those snipes need to get their head on straight before they find themselves with PT duty because they don't know how to play right and respectful. The specialist has her own issues, too… but I don't think she did it. I hope the JAG can see that despite some fools down on deck. She does need help though. I hope she'll be willing to take it." Maggie's got that motherly tone to her voice again, she definitely cares/worries for the woman.
"Hey, I'm just as twitchy as the next guy, Corporal." Marko replies, nodding repeatedly. "There's nothing like the off-chance my Raptor might blow itself to hell and gone before we even get out of the flight pod to increase the pucker factor on a hop." he adds. "It's just…there's so many wild rumors going around on this boat right now." he grumbles. "Most of them are complete bullshit and the ones that aren't a hundred percent are probably about seventy five. This is what happens when you keep people keyed up for as long as we have, sooner or later, the finger pointing starts and that tend to end with someone getting killed."
"She *wants* to make Air Wing, again," Constin voices to the last of Quinn's words. "From what ah hear a couple Raptor jocks would take her as Eee-Cee-Oh, and until some body beats some dicipline into the Deck crew, she ain't got much of a place left there. You want to help Coll? Do what you can to get her re-qualified on a Raptor." Marko's words are met with an even look. Settling into a chair facing the starscape. "Yeah," is his flat concession to the difficult situation.
Quinn considers that quietly, dead silent for several moments, her lips pressed in a line. "Once I talk to the shrink about it all and I know she's stable, I'll look at doing what I can." She rubs her hand over her eyes again, still trying to wake up. "…Frak… I need coffee, or somethin'. Bloody ridiculous…" How tired she is, that is. And also an attempt for a subject change!
"Yeah, she mentioned she used to be one last time I saw her." Marko comments. "Cap, if the shrink signs off on her, I'd be happy to get her re-certified. Shouldn't be that hard, she just needs to be walked through the new gear. The basics of this job haven't changed, just the details of how to do it."
Constin's part in the question being done- namely: raising it, he is content to accept the subject change. "OF all the frakked-up problems in our future? One of the worst days in gonna be the one when the boat runs out of coffee," he drawls dryly. "Vipers might run on tylium, but the jocks run on bean juice."
Quinn groans a bit at the thought, "…Can't touch it right now anyway…" She lets slip before blinking. She probably shouldn't have brought that up, but her drowsy mind isn't quite thinking clearly right now. She shakes the thought off and clears her throat, trying to move on…"Or cigarettes. There will be rioting… sadly not joking about that either."
"Heh, no kidding." Marko chuckles. "I think we've about recycled the grounds we've already got well past their max use-by date. Better hope Lt. Lunair's bonsai scheme works out, or there'll be blood on the walls." he comments, shaking his head a little. Quinn's comment about cigarettes elicits a wince and a grimace. "Oh man, can you imagine Bootstrap without his cancer sticks? It'll take a whole fireteam to restrain the man."
"Heh. Pilots," Constin drawls with a grin and shake of his head. Stretching his long legs out, and crossing them at the ankle in from of him, the big man reclines in his chair, and cracks the book open, searching through to find his last place. He glances up to wonder, "How much booze we got left?" Priorities, man!
Quinn shakes her head quietly, "NOt a clue… probably less than both cigarettes and coffee, though." But, of course, she can't touch that either. But at least she doesn't bring it up this time, even if a small part of her looks faintly ill at the thought of booze. Strange things that turn her stomach these days. "But… we'll carry on. We always do."
"Heh, if I had to hazard a guess, Corporal, I'd say we've probably got about twice as much as you think we do." Marko replies with a grunt of laughter. "Bet there's not a single fruit cup left in the galley…they're all fermenting someplace."
Constin narrows his eyes in a worried frown. "Ah don't smoke.. and never went much for coffee. But if we run out of drink.." he lets the words taper off in a rumbling mutter. Marko's joke about the fruit cups gets a skeptical look. "We're gonna need more fruit cups," he opines.
Quinn swallows back a moment, the thought of fermenting fruit cups is not a pleasant one right now. She won't get up and actually run to puke, but she takes a moment to breath and sink back into the couch. "Start hoarding now while you can… or gettin' used to drinking weak tea. Or… developing a still. Probably is possible if people really work on it."
"Oh, they're working on it." Marko chuckles again, "You can count on that one. If there's one constant in human history, it's our need to get frakked up from time to time, and just how inventive we can be to get there." he grins, settling back on the couch. "Frak a fruit cup, what we need's corn or grain…..make something with a real kick to it. Wine's nice, but moonshine's better."
"*Wine*," Constin snorts. "Wine is something rich folks do when they dont get their way," the marine states derisively. "Ah'm talking about proper booze. That's something else ah need to be investigationg: who's working on the frakking still?"
Quinn finally leans over to try and scoop her crutches up, "I… ain't certain, but… I do know that I should properly head to a bed and not sleeping on this couch here… Best of luck to both you boys. You should work on a still yerselves if no one else. Never can have too many, right?" Maggie asks with a slightly green looking smile, but the conversation isn't settling her stomach at all, so she gets ready to get up and go.
"I think I could cobble something together, you give me a couple days to research it." he says, looking to Constin thoughtfully. "Raw materials'll be a problem, but, you _are_ a Marine….got access to areas I don't." he muses. "Night, Captain. Rest easy. I'll query Allessandra about the gear question first chance."
"Yeah, ah'm also an Em-Pee," Constin grins back at Marko. "So you be real careful about asking for anything outside of regs, yeah?" The grin deepens, before he looks back to Quinn. "Sleep well, Maggie. Again, that is.." he adds with a smirk. Forefinger touched to his brow in an easy demi-salute, to accompany the farewell.
Quinn stifles a small yawn, mainly by dipping/hiding her head because her hands are busy holding her crutches. "Good night, boys." She gives them a casual wink and heads for the door in her usual, limping gait, clacking metal and plastic echoing her all the way out.
"Wey-ll shee-it, MP Constin." Marko drawls in his best 'country boy' accent. "Ah reckon' that fraks that plan in the corn hole, don't it?" he chuckles.
Constin turns a slow look toward Marko with that joking accent. His grin twists into something less amused. "Does it now, fly boy?" he drawls.
"Sorry, sorry." Marko replies with a sigh. "Was trying to be funny, not start a fight. Just saying…If you wanna start a still, give the word, and I'll get to researching it." he says, taking up his clipboard and starting to scribble out notes on it.
Constin nods once, settling back into a relaxed slouch in the chair, as Marko cuts the accent. "Well, you consider the word given, sir. No joke, you need some materials, let me know, and ah'll see what ah can find."
"Copy that, Corporal." the young man nods. "Just lemme take a look at the files in the Library and I'll be able to give you a precise list. Already know where to stow it."
Constin grins again, nodding to the pilot's requested timetable. "Sounds good, sir. Ah'm not a hard man to find, when you're ready." Regarding Marko again, he wonders, "What was your name, fly boy? Never caught it."
"Marko Scaurus." the young ECO replies. "Just call me 'Flasher', don't ask, long story." he snerks. "And you are?" he inquires. There is a difference between seeing a man's name tag and actually being introduced, after all.
"Ah won't," the corporal smirks to the 'dont ask'. "Eleftherios Constin," the marine names himself, offering the pilot a handshake. "Good to meet you, Flasher."
Marko returns the man's handshake firmly. "Likewise, Constin." he replies. "So, what's the story with Coll?" he asks, stretching out in the reverse of Quinn's spot. Gods, but the man looks _tired_.
"Coll got herself bent real out of shape. Got pissed off and lost her shit during an inspection. Got detained and taken to the brig," Constin answers. "While she was in, she started talking about a few things that made Major Hahn charge her with Dereliction of Duty. That's what the hearing was for, today." He is non specific as to what she said.
"So, what _did_ she say?" Marko says, voicing the obvious question. "If you can't answer, that's okay." he adds. "But if the Major signed off on it…" he says, letting his voice trail off questioningly.
"Ongoing investigation," Constin non-answers, with an apologetic shrug. "As ah said: Coll was in good spirits coming out of the hearing. She ought to know the Advocate General's decision by tomorrow."
"Well, hope it turns out okay for her." Marko sighs, shaking his head. "Soo much paranoia around this boat right now." he adds, frowning. "XO's taken to wearing a sidearm….whispers about the Old Man…..I think we're starting to freak ourselves out here…."
"Any on-duty officer has the prerogative to wear a sidearm," Constin recites, but Marko's frowning words do visibly jog a memory, as Constin's eyes narrow in thought again, looking out at the starscape. "What you heard about the old man?" he prompts a moment later.
"A whole lot of nonsense that if you haven't heard already, I am not about to repeat." Marko replies firmly. "Like I said, too many frakkin' rumors on this boat already. No way in hell am I going to add to them." he says. "We don't have _time_ for this shit, Constin, we've got people trapped on Leonis, among which happens to be one of your Lieutenants. Every bit of effort we've got should be about getting them _home_. Not playing Geminese Whispers about stuff we only _think_ could be happening."
"Good answer," the big man returns with a nod, turning his eye from Marko to the viewing window, and the stars beyond. "Say, you're a pilot- you know whether Leonis' star is visible from here?"
<FS3> Marko rolls Academic: Success.
"Leo?" Marko replies. "She's about…..there." Marko replies, stabbing his finger towards the window at a distant, pulsing pinprick of gold. "Call it, one o'clock low." he adds. "Doesn't look like much from here, does it?" he sighs. "She's a perfect, G-type, main-sequence star…Chuck a wad of rock and water vapor around her, a few trace elements, stand back and let gravity do it's work, and _bongo_, you've got yourself a habitable planet….."
Constin squints a bit searching out the star Marko points out. "One o'clock low. There's the yella girl." He hears out the description with a nod, thinking silently for a while. Belatedly, he remembers the book in hand, and checks his place again. "Get back to me when you can on that still, Flasher, yeah?"
"Will do, Constin, will do." Marko replies, heaving himself out of his seat with a grunt of effort. "Take care and stay safe." he adds. "And get some rest, will ya? Got a feeling we're _all_ gonna need it real soon." he says on his way out. The Corporal is given a snappy salute as the ECO exits the area.
"Sir, ah think you're more right than you know," Constin drawls back returning the relaxed semi-salute. The book is opened, and he spends a few moments scanning the last page of the prior chapter to get back into his place, before reading anew in earnest. Fires and Support, Section 11-1.