| Eager to Fly |
| Summary: | Sonja is eager to enlist and get into flight training. |
| Date: | 13 Jul 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None. |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Starboard Side - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| This Hangar Bay is filled with boxes, crates and other various supplies that are needed throughout the ship. Most have been moved to one end and lashed with tarps to keep them out of the way. The place has gone from extra ship storage on one end and the ability to house over 450 people on the other end. Whatever could be made into cots has been set up like a huge barracks. Some areas have been made more presentable with a few items that belong to the person holding onto their small area in this world. |
| Marines guard this area 24/7 and food is brought in cafeteria style, feeding people out of vats and buckets as they line up with their plates. One area has been tarped off to the side, that holds canvas showers and sinks. The 'Head' in this area has to be cleaned daily since it is a temporary military bathroom setup, due to there is no way to flush it out through pipes. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #137 |
Another day, another background check. Lance Corporal Daniel Kincaid has a manila folder in hand with a Polaroid-like picture clipped to it and some blank sheets inside. "Sonja Lyon?" calls out the Marine, loudly, looking over the converted hangar deck. "Any volunteers?"
Sonja was sitting quietly on her bunk, having nothing else to do but sit and wait for someone to collect from this hell hole…and finally her name is called, with a look of relief she stands and places her duff over her shoulder and steps forwards. She with a quiet grace, her steps barely touching the floor, and then she's before the Lance. "I'm her," she says, her voice, low yet firm.
Kincaid shifts his folder to underneath his left arm and extends his right to the woman, taking her in as she approaches. "I'm Lance Corporal Kincaid, and I'll be doing your background check, Ms. Lyon. It's nice to meet you." He gestures to a nearby overturned carton which conveniently has one overturned next to it. "How about you step into my office over here?"
Sonja takes the hand and shakes it the polite amount of times then lets it go. "Of course." she nod, stepping towards the crate, she's been issued a coverall that's a little too big and she's had to roll up sleeves and legs to make it fit. Sitting down she drops her pack to the ground, once free her hands go to her crossed knees.
Kincaid makes his way over to sit next to her. "So the purpose of this check is to find out a little bit about you and what sort of interests you might have in serving the Fleet, if any," says the Marine. "So I have your name down as S-o-n-j-a L-y-o-n. Is that right?"
Sonja nods her head. "Yes, Corporal." She says, catching sight of him rank at least she hopes that was right. "I wanna fly." She adds. "I use to dust my parents farm on Leonis."
"No kidding?" Kincaid tilts his head, but takes a few notes about that, scribbling them down in his folder. "What sort of things did you guys grow over there?" His voice is light, conversational. She must be right about the rank, for he does not correct her.
Sonja smiles briefly, always happy to talk of home even if she knows she'll never see it again. "Usual crops, corn, wheat, vines, all sorts of stuff. My father was always good at knowing what to grow when, we made a decent living." She then motions to herself. "As you can see, I'm not built for hard labor so I got to fly our small plane." She sighs. "Why I want to enlist, use my skills to help fight the cylons better then sitting on my arse in here waiting for something that might not happen."
Kincaid nods his head once, as if that makes sense. "How old are you, Sonja?" wonders the Lance Corporal, his eyes sweeping over her form. "Can't be all that old."
Sonja looks older then she is, of course all nineteen year olds do. "I'm nineteen." She says, going to square her shoulders and sit up a little straighter,. "I know I'm the size of a half starved child, but how much muscle and weight do you need in a viper. As long as I can reach the pedals right?"
Kincaid shrugs his shoulders. "A lot of people fly the Viper Mark II's and non-fly-by-wire Viper Mark VII's. They're a little more hands-on, take a little more work." The Marine seems to know a bit about the systems for being a ground-pounder. "So you're into Vipers, huh?"
Sonja smirks and shakes her head. "I wouldn't say into them, I never even thought I'd ever join the fleet, especially not as a pilot. But times are hard right? We all pitch in where we can, maybe I won't be suitable. Worth the effort trying though."
"Yeah. Well. The Air Wing is looking for some new pilots to put into training." Kincaid can agree with that much. "You ever do drugs, Sonja?" He mixes the questions up, but asks that one in the same tone as all the rest.
Sonja shakes her head. "Why would I be that stupid?" She asks amused going on to say. "I've seen what they did to some of those city kids. Not for me, thanks!"
Kincaid laughs and makes a check in a little box on his paper. "All right," he says. "How about run ins with the law. Have any of those?" His pen, which seems nicer than the ones most folks carry, moves down to another box on his form.
Sonja pauses her lips. "Not unless you class my parents." She says yet again amused, she knows its standard next she'll get asked if she's every betrayed her planet or government.
Either it's not on the form or Kincaid skips it, because his next question is: "So if you were a country girl, what were you doing in the city when the bombs hit, huh?" He turns his head over to her, curious.
Sonja shakes her head. "I wasn't I was out flying my plane when they hit, my father told me to head to the hills and hide there. Once everything settled I flow into town and found some medical clinic run by some guy called Barran." She says. "And that's where you guys found us."
"What happened to your Dad?" wonders Kincaid, making a few notes on his folder, glancing over at the small woman sitting next to him. "Was he with you?"
Sonja shakes her head. "I was in the plane and he was back on the farm, I've been flying solo since I was sixteen. I fled the radiation and the after affects of the nucks." She says, her voice trembling a little, remember her father telling her to leave them behind, if she came back she risked exposing herself.
Kincaid nods once. He doesn't press. "I'm sorry to hear about your Dad, Sonja," says the Marine, quietly. "He sounded like a good man." He makes some additional notes on his piece of paper. "How are you doing down here?" He gestures around. "I know it's not luxury, but you at least keeping on okay?"
Sonja nods her head a few times. "If they'll have me." She says. "Where's the dotted line I'll sign now."
Kincaid chuckles. "It doesn't quite work like that, though I appreciate the enthusiasm." He continues, filling out some notes on the bottom of the form he holds. "I'll send a memo to the Commander of the Air Group, that's the head pilot, and let her know you're interested. If she's interested in you based on that, she'll talk to you and take it from there." A beat. "Make sense?"
Sonja rolls her eyes a grin speading across her lips. "Sorry I must seem childishly eager, I am but I shouldn't be and yes it makes perfect sense."
"Good." Kincaid gets to his feet again, shifting his folder under his arm again. "Sonja. It was nice meeting you." He offers his hand. "And either I or the CAG or both of us will be in touch again pretty soon, okay?"