| Fire Over Tea |
| Summary: | Santiago, Stavrian & Sofia converse in the Obs Deck whilst watching the Jam session maneuvers. |
| Date: | 22 Feb 2041 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Observation Deck | Deck 3 | Battlestar Cerberus | Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
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.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-309: Daphne] Daphne and Tisiphone weave around one another, the two indeed quite accustomed to each other's flying styles. Daph looks around the cockpit with concerned, narrowed eyes behind her helmet. When the reds swoop in on Alessandra with such precision, it's all the rook can do but suck in her breath between her teeth and mutter, "Frak." She starts towards the Raptors, now.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] Lasher can't help but smirk as twin bursts of fire take Alessandra out of the game. As ordered, Laskaris swings around, still on Sitka's wing as they make for their next target. "Hope you like doing laundry, Lucky. Me? I hate it." As anyone who's smelled his locker a week or two after his last laundry trip can tell." Unlike Sitka, he gives his wings a healthy waggle as he lines up on Kolettis' fighter.
Stavrian is settled on a couch up on the observation deck, feet kicked up on the coffee table and hands laced behind his head. Beyond the viewport, the Cerberus' Air Wing is busy trying to shoot each other with mock weapons, flashes lighting up the blackness of space as the vessels whiz by at a safe distance outside.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-310: Tisiphone] Tisiphone's Viper loops back over itself as Lucky peels off for home, then reattached itself to Daphne's portside wing. It's been a safe place so far.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Trask] "Oh, so the Pixie Pogrom is somehow my fault, even though /I/ am not the non-believer. Well, pardon me for being unable to clap my hands to bring Lucky an' Tink an' all her glittery friends back to life 'cuz I'm too busy fondling with my knob." Not so busy to not slip in that innuendo, it would seem. Quinn just had to mention a whip, though, which means Trask just has to comment. "If we lose, I am gonna spin the greatest sob story evah about how you led me astray an' caused a dereliction of duty because you bribed me with a flogging."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] "Suppression dampens, Ensign. Unfortunately, it does not block," Cidra says simply. Unperturbed, though she goes wince sympathetically at the simulated 'damage' the Viper Jocks do to Lucky's ship. "And Uram plays nasty tricks with the systems. Just keep to it." A pause at his question and seh replies, "We do, yes. Have something in mind?"
[Harrier-307: Marko] "Well, I was just remembering what they taught us in Basic during hand to hand. 'If you can't stand, you can't fight. If you can't breathe, you can't fight. If you can't _see_…You can't fight. Every bird drops out a few signal fiares, it might throw off their night vision. Throw a little sand in there eyes."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] "The trick would be not blinding our own Vipers as well, Ensign. But. It is worth pursuing," Cidra says simply. And she gets on the horn.
The hatch opens, and in steps a civilian. It's the clothing that makes her immediately identifiable as such. Santiago takes a few steps into the room, her eyes turned toward the viewport and the action outside. She watches it for a moment as she meanders in, crossing her arms loosely. After a moment, she glances toward the seating, and steps that way to find a place to claim a perch. She crosses her legs after a moment of thought, one foot kicking slightly. The boots she wears look more like weapons than functional footwear. "Huh." Eyes turned toward the viewport after a quick glance over Stavrian, she may be trying to figure out who's 'winning'.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-305: Juno] "The trick is not to mind it." Juno interjects. "Or to keep it timed and know when to turn our peepers away on mark. It's a risk."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] Shiv rolls out of his turn, and immediately seeks a firing solution on Kolettis as she fleets past him. He goes for her unprotected flank in a burst of rapid laserfire. Again, and again. It's pretty much a hail mary at this point, with the electronic interference doing its job so well, but that timer's ticking away.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-309: Daphne] Kolettis is staying alert. Her eyes focus hard, looking all aroudn her cockpit as the two vipers close in on her. She blasts to one side and then gives the throttle a push, preparing to try dodging these guys as they come zooming past her.
Sneaking in behind the civilian, a few moments later- Sofia arrives. She has a book on her head as she peers to watch. She smiles politely to the pair here, if they look her way. Otherwise, Sofia goes naerly cross-eyed to see who is winning. Who was she rooting for now? Hmmm. It's hard to remember. D'oh!
"Huh." Stavrian echoes the sound, more like a grunt than speech. He doesn't move and doesn't look over at the newcomer; whether he notices her attire or not isn't obvious. Blue eyes, on viewport. "They're trying to jam the shit out of each other. Project Take The Fun Out." He's seated on a couch in front of the viewport, watching the Air Wing action going on at a distance outside. Santiago's just sat down herself.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] At Sitka's command, Lasher breaks abruptly to one side, then cuts back in. Classic bracketing maneuver. Frowning as he quickly lines up the shot, he squeezes of a burst of fire at Daphne's other flank.
"Well…" Santiago begins, her eyes following the vipers and raptors as they shuttle around in space, beyond the viewport. She considers the flashing lights, and though she can't exactly tell who might be 'hitting' whom, the description is enough to prompt her to say, "At least they'll run out of fuel eventually." She doesn't rise to leave, however, but does sit back and get more comfortable.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] This time, the pilot in the Mark II's a little too slow in compensating for the EM interference. With his sensors spinning uselessly as he's blasted by three separate raptors, he tries to eyeball those shots at the last minute— and misses his window of opportunity. The training lasers dance away into empty space, and he's forced to drag his fighter into a hard burn to port as he and his wingman abort their run.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-309: Daphne] With a viper to her port and a viper to her starboard, Daphne flips over and pulls back on the yoke, opting to head neither left nor right, but straight down. She jinks hard to oen side, then to the other, actually banking her wings to avoid laser fire as it stalks closer to her craft. She pulls away with a burst of overthrusters. She sticks her tongue out as far as it will go in her flight helmet and adds, "Bleeeeeegh! Neeeegggh!" though she keeps it off comms.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] Laskaris' lasers do make contact with the frantically evading Daphne, but it's a glancing blow, and the sim computer rules that no damage was inflicting. Cursing floridly under his breath at his useless scanners, he brings his ship around on Shiv's wing to prepare for the next attack run.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Marko] "Oh…I am probably gonna get my ass kicked for this." Marko sighs, chuckling softly as he keeps making tiny little adjustments to the ECM emitters to avoid any of the 'hostiles' from getting a lock.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Trask] When Bunny talks about pooping glitter, Boostrap remarks to Jugs, "Oh, so that's why you've been slaughtering sprites."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-309: Daphne] Daphne sweeps towards the raptors, making as much of a beeline for them as she can manage without being a completely easy target.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Trask] When Bunny talks about pooping glitter, Bootstrap remarks to Jugs, "Oh, so that's why you've been slaughtering sprites."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Quinn] Quinn groans, it momentarily echoing over the comms…"That is the last mental image I need from you OR Bunny. You all get to cuddle alone tonight. Enjoy your glitter."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-310: Tisiphone] Tisiphone's Viper continues to play tag with Daphne's, sweeping wide this way and that to keep from ever catching up. She may be trying to bait the enemy into switching targets, but if so, she's failing utterly.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Trask] "As long as I'm with myself, I am never alone, sugar muffin," Kal quips.
"Oooooh." Stavrian grimaces slightly as lights go streaking by Daphne's Viper without hitting it, and the two attack birds streak back for another run. "Fuel or pride. Which one you think will run out first?" He's still watching the viewport rather than his company, eyes flickering as the vessels blow past.
Sofia's eyes widen at all the flying. "Wow. Sometimes that looks really neat," Sofia tilts her head. She watches them all go by. She looks between the others here before returning to the spectacle. She hesitates to answer, considering the question might not be addressed to her. She looks shifty though, glancing over her shoulder before she watches the fliers.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] Another minute ticks past, while Sitka's red and white fighter strafes just out of the jamming field so he can reset his onboard equipment. Of course, it'll all start to spin uselessly again once he and Lasher renew their attack run, so he's mostly eyeballing his shots at this point.
There's a slight tip of her head as Santiago considers this question, but it's only a beat or two before she says, "I've known a few pilots. They'd be stranded in a dry drift for quite a while before the pride meter dinged critical." She glances over to Sofia after a moment, smiles slightly in a wordless welcome, then goes back to watching the light show. "Which pilots are failing to splash their bogeys?"
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] "We shall see, Ensign," is all Cidra says mildly to Marko. She can hear him chattering back there. Her gloved hands move deftly over the Raptor controls, readying her glitter. Or beacon, rather.
Stavrian unlaces his hands behind his head and drags his fingers through his curly hair, then stretches his arms overhead. His head tips, glancing at Sofia, then rights again to the viewport. A faint smirk. "Should see if they'll let you sit jumpseat sometime, Crewman." Then finally he looks at the source of the other voice nearby. There's a second, then he looks away. "Those two right…there, the ones with the blue underneath. Raptors are piling on them with ECM. Supposed to see if they can stack the jamming and keep them down, far as I can tell."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-305: Evandreus] Harrier-305 turns on its axes to face the onslaught of the Red Team, 304 and 307 following suit, bright beacons dropping into the night to distract the Red pilots visually. Or try to.
Ehehe. Sofia rubs the back of her head. "It's a good tactic. I used to play with ECM when I could. I thought I'd be in electric but-" Sofia tilts he rhead. Apparently she can work one of those! "That would be fun." She smiles at Stav and Santiago. When not flailing, Sofia seems vaguely normal - sort of quietly odd but friendly. She settles in to a good spot. She winces and pulls a shoulder. Something bugs her a momentt before she looks and nods. "I see."
The blonde dressed in black glances over to the other woman as she notes the wince out of the corner of her eye. "Are you hurt?" The question is light, though edged with a hint of genuine concern. It's a testament to the interest she takes in raptor jam sessions that her attention is so easily diverted. "The guys in blue are surely going to be irritated when they step our — or not." She happens to glance back just in time to see a raptor lit up with a double flash of red mock-KEW laser.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] Shiv's gun turrets flash with simulated fire as he empties his arsenal into the fleeing Daphne. He manages to score a solid hit across her nose, the first of a one-two punch hammered down by his wingman which.. doesn't quite manage to box out the more fleet-footed fighter. Dragging his lower lip between his teeth, the Captain checks his timer and corkscrews in for a second attempt immediately. This time, there's no pull back to reset his instruments. He goes purely by sight.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] Focused on Daphne, Lasher almost doesn't notice as the Raptors all suddenly start spinning and disgorging flares. The sudden bright light doesn't seem to affect the targeting of either member of Red Team; Laskaris' shot, in particular, causes heavy simulated damage as the lasers cut across Daphne's fuselage. He seems to have the same realization as Sitka as he again moves off, positioning himself to bracket Kolettis' fighter again.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Quinn] Quinn flies rather fancy, getting almost exactly into the position she needs to in order to set off that flash beacon. At least it's something to keep her busy. She winces, just a bit, at the scene going down in front of her.
And, ouch. Stavrian is proven wrong as the pursuers find their prey, giving everyone on the obs deck a nice display of fireworks. "Bam." A brow raises and head turns back towards Sofia as Santiago asks if she's hurt. That can certainly distract a man wearing a red cross brassard. "Mess yourself up there, Crewman?"
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-309: Daphne] Daphne does everything right except evade incoming fire. She's right on the money, banking away from the flares at precisely the right moment. Unfortunately for her, she hasn't got a monopoly on reactions and her tails follow along just as well as her wingmate. She twists in the air and flies right through the trio of raptors, hoping to put some distance between herself and the more senior viper pilots. Laser shots strike her ship in several places, the shots well placed. One cannot dance forever, apparently. She looks in something akin to disbelief as her craft doesn't flash red, but continues to fly even as damage statistics stream down the HUD and the console itself.
"Huh? No, just gets sore sometimes. Old injury," Sofia waves it off. Her eyes widen as the pursuers hit home. "Oooh." Snap! "Long story really," Sofia doesn't seeem eager to discuss it too much, for fear of seeming like a hypochondriac. "That's impressive though. It seems like a lot of care went into the simulation."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] Harrier 305 comes about on the mark and Cidra flashes her flare into the black. To questionable avail, as Daphne still gets plugged. She shows little displeasure, however. "Our Lasher and Shiv are not so easily distracted."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Marko] "Ah, Frak." Marko sighs as he reads Lasher and Shiv start to cut Kolettis apart like a slab of coffee cake. "Looks like they didn't fall for it, Toast." he reports. "So much for my bright ideas." he adds, giving the ECM suite another nudge to keep the field going.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] OOC: Ahem. 307. Really.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] Cidra clicks her tongue softly as she edges her Raptor back, returning its prior position in their attempted ECM shield. "The Vipers have electronic targeting too, Ensign. And they clearly know how to keep their eyes upon it. It was worth a try, however. One must not be afraid to try a few tricks now and then."
Santiago nods as Sofia waves off the concern about her injury. She reaches up to flick her fingers over her hair, touching it lightly before her arms slide crossed again. There's a soft sound as a couple of the bracelets on her wrist tussle. She watches as a viper lights up that abused raptor once more, and takes it out of the game. She, of course, has no idea who's out there. To the Aquarian, they're just a bunch of anonymous zippy pilots in over priced government hardware. "I don't imagine the cold helps." The comment suggests she finds it a little chilly in Obs.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] One of the flares goes off right in front of Shiv's nose, and he has to bank his Mark II sharply at the last minute in a nailbiting close call that very nearly nullifies his attack run. Somehow, he manages to sneak in a snapshot on the fleeing Daphne as he comes out of his pursuit curve, no longer making visual checks on his wingmate— he trusts the other pilot will clean up what's left. With one fighter left, and his timer reading eight minutes, the Petrels' squad leader strafes out to gain a better angle on the remaining fighter.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-305: Juno] "Frakking stubborn, aren't they?" Juno remarks to her pilot as she continues to adjust the jamming frequencies in accordance to their needs. "Ahh, good to the last drop." she remarks, noting the 'kil'.
Boom diggity. There goes Daphne's bird out of the game, Stavrian's eyes turning back to the viewport and tracking the flashing alert lights as they spin off. "They'd kick your ass if you called it a simulation." He unlaces his hands and folds his arms over his waist. "Space is space says them, even if it's glorified laser tag." Here they come again for another pass. "Shouldn't be much longer now."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-309: Daphne] Daphne does the best she can, but with her viper pretending to be missing all sorts of important parts and a pair of hungry sharks circling her, it's their game to lose, and they don't. The rookie tries for speed when all else fails, just burning up her fuel to get as fast as she can, hoping the lackluster control she has will get amplified to make her a harder target. In spite of this strategy, her hud flashes red, and that's that. She clears the damage and begins to circle wide around the combat with a craft that's suddenly undamaged. She's out.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-310: Tisiphone] Tisiphone's Viper doubles back hard on itself as Daphne is removed from the fight. She starts looping her ship somewhat wildly around her protective Raptors, twisting and ducking over and around. In theory, this makes her a tougher target. In practice, it may just veer her out of the most advantageous ECM coverage.
"Oh. Well, guess it's good they can't. And space /is/ space," Sofia notes. A shrug. She smiles a little. "It's kind of neat to watch. I think it'd be interesting to fly. But I - think people need me to run around and annoy them with supplies," She jokes lightly. Sofia goes quiet to watch then. "Oh!" At the mention of being a little cold, Sofia offers her uniform's jacket. "Here, you can borrow this. I'm kinda warm anyway. Been standing on my head checking wires in the head," She comments wrlyly.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] Again, Lasher scores only an ineffective glancing blow, but his wingman's fire puts Daphne down for the count at last. He purses his lips as the pair angles towards the last remaining member of Blue Flight - Tisiphone. The ECM is still melting his targeting solutions to slag, but he goes for a shot at the flailing Viper nonetheless.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Marko] "Copy that, Toast." Marko replies, sounding a bit cheered. "I'm just glad those two are on our side." he notes. "It looks like Bunny's idea's working out." he notes. "Two minutes until we're at the projected time."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Quinn] Quinn keeps steady on her course, the entire matter not really too difficult for her at all, even with the large craft she's flying. She's been doing it over half her life, the thing flies like a kite for her. "Wow, Boots… You almost look like you know what you're doing tonight. I'm impressed." She flashes him a warm smile over her shoulder, the comment actually meant as high praise.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] "You are making them work for it," Cidra notes simply to Marko. Eyes following the movements to Tisiphone's Viper outside. Her fingers would be crossed, were they not occupied with piloting.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] Lasher's salvo is a little off the mark, but it still makes contact, and the sim computer registers light damage on Tisiphone's erratically evading fighter. Blanching as he sees less than a minute left on the clock, he mutters under his breath, too quietly for the comm to pick it up. "Hermes Argeiphontes, guide my strike and see it true." Then, he opens fire.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] His shooting may not be without peer, but Shiv's possibly learned a thing or two about how to actually fly one of those antique fighters. As their target ducks and weaves, he fires both port thrusters and kills his starboards, to drag his ship in a slipstream strafe. The instant she dips out of the interference zone, he plugs her with a few shots. With one minute left on the clock, he keeps the pressure on rather than pull out for another pass.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Trask] Positive reinforcement thus given to the rook, Bootstrap is back to quipping with Quinn. "Actually, I'm just a phenomenal faker."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-310: Tisiphone] If Tisiphone's Viper could shriek, 'ohgodOhGodOHGOD-' as it twisted and looped around the Raptors, it would be. Then again, that's probably what the pilot is doing, anyway. She has the unpredictability of newness on her side, but her playbook is full of the same moves the Lieutenant and Captain have been practicing for years.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Quinn] Maggie smirks briefly to Trask, "I heard that from your last girlfriend."
"Is that what the military calls it these days?" Standing on your head in the head checking wiring. Santiago's comment is amused, but she does reach over to take the offered jacket from the crewman. "Thank you. That's very kind." She takes a moment to lift the jacket, and turn the fabric in her hands. She flips it around her shoulders, gives it a shimmy to settle it, then re-crosses her arms. It looks a little odd given the rest of her ensemble, but this once, fashion takes a back seat. "I hear the viper's a hell of a ride." Her eyes follow the more sharply maneuvering of the birds. "The maneuverability," she comments eyes on the shit hot flier, "is amazing."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Trask] "Better me fakin' than someone else." As if someone would fake with Trask. Pshaw. That's like expecting him to not twist what his pilot says. "Anyway, I know you're lyin' 'cuz I've never had a girlfriend. They, like, expect time an' attention an' gifts an' to talk about feelings an' crap. Hookers are cheaper, both in the short-term an' the long-run."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] "One still standing." Cidra notes it more to herself than to Marko. And certainly not anywhere near the comm. More as if she's ticking it off in her head than anything else.
"Better than the plumbing," Stavrian mutters, as to Sofia's electrical job in that particular place. "That'd be, if you pardon the reference, shittier." He unfolds his arms and sits forward, standing up with a push of hands on knees. "I'd hope those things could move. Electronics in there've got to be rivaling human brain synapses by now." His boots make soft sounds as he works his way towards urns sitting on a far table. "Either of you ladies want something to drink?"
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] "Frak." The clock strikes 10, and Lasher curses. It's not screamed, but he packs a lot of venom into the word nonetheless as a gloved fist pounds the edge of the console. He glares at the skittish Viper that's so far evaded death at their hands as he goes for another ECM muddled shot.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] There's no cursing, no apparent frustration at all coming from Shiv's side of the 'aggressor' force. Though it's possible he's lighting his 'burners with a little more alacrity as the pair streak in swiftly to try to bracket their opponent again.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-310: Tisiphone] This is not the Captain-Lieutenant sandwich Tisiphone's flight instructors warned her about. Not that her scalded-cat maneuvers were smooth to begin with, but now they're showing obvious signs of control systems damage. She loops around, agonizingly slow, and lurches toward the Raptors.
"Well, I inspect that sometimes too to ensure maintenance is run," Sofia replies. "And hah," She wrinkles her nose. "No, there's reasons. I don't want to freak anyone out," Sofia replies and shrugs. She smiles as the jacket is taken and worn. "No problem," Sofia murmurs. "I guess. But I'd like something that can take a hit personally." She ponders this. Sofia smiles. At least the gear is pretty warm from Sofia wearing it. She pauses at the offer for drinks, "Um. Sure. But you don't want me to get them?" Something about being served by an officer makes Sofia a bit worried.
There's a quiet, but unmistakable smirk from the blonde. She glances over to the medic, and considers his offer on the wake of the humor. "Is there tea?" Caffeine. Her eyes follow the man, and she glances toward the urns. "I would love some tea, thank you. I haven't had a proper cup of tea since we disembarked." Santiago glances briefly over to Sofia at the woman's tone when she asks after who should be getting drinks, but she goes on to say, "I would very nearly kill for a private bath and a twenty minute soak." Welcome to military life, civvie. Her eyes sweep the viewport as she catches part of a light show out of the corner of her eye.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] Cidra remains apart from the banter on the comms, for her part. She is still half-observing the Vipers outside with a studying eye, as well as a tactical one. A wince to those hits Tisiphone takes. And she doesn't bother to hide her surprise when the Rooks ship doesn't blip 'dead'. "Another go, it seems, Scaurus."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Marko] "Frak…..they're getting better at this, Toast." Marko notes, readjusting the ECM field to compensate for the gap. "Money Shot's still got 'em working for it." he adds, nodding approvingly. "How she's keeping that thing in the air with that much damage is kind of a puzzlement to me."
"CoC doesn't stand for chain of coffee, crewman. What do you want?" Stavrian fishes for cups, eyeing the inside of each to be sure they're clean. He glances around the table area, tapping the cup against the palm of his hand, until he spots tea. Two bags picked up and a glance over his shoulder, brow raised at Santiago's profile. "Tea drinker? That's the spirit. We are a dying breed, ma'am." His back's to the viewport as he fusses with water now. "Anyone win yet out there?"
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-311: Sitka] Tisiphone's greeted by a solid hit or three from Sitka— which, by themselves, should have been enough to take her down. When his wingman's follow-up still doesn't seal the deal, the Captain chops his throttles and loops back in, determined to keep the pressure on.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-312: Laskaris] Tisiphone's fighter gets a stare of cold fury(get it? haw) as it continues to… not die, even after both Red vipers score palpable hits. Lasher gives a guttural sigh as he too continues to dog the last remaining Blue fighter, the lieutenant close on Sitka's heels.
"Huh? I learned to make tea from loose leaves and brew it," Sofia seems boggled. "It's a fun art and if I drink too much coffee I start twitching and babbling and going all blararagah and one time I tried to stay awake for DAYS after I had a pot and ended up punching a toaster. It was kind of an evil toaster." Clearly, no coffee for the crewman. "Tea or juice is fine." She beams after a moment, and smiles. "If you're sure sir." She looks to Santiago. "Bath? What's that?" Headtilt. She's being a bit wry. "I think you can have one at a hotel on shore leave sometimes," Sofia replies.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-310: Tisiphone] Tisiphone's Viper shudders like a giant metal dog about to shake itself after a bath under the continuing and ceaseless attack, then suddenly stops maneuvering altogether. It drifts gently onward in a straight line.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-303: Trask] Trask sets a bearing for Zero One Five carom Zero Zero Zero.
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-307: Cidra] "It speaks well of the suppression she has lasted so long against such experienced pilots," Cidra notes to Marko. "An intriguing exercise, this game of Bunny's. Not the usual stick waving. I am quite enjoying it."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[Harrier-305: Evandreus] Evan sets a similar bearing, and, perhaps unexpectedly, the triangular configuration of Raptors begins to float at the same speed and heading as the drifting Money Shot. Not abandoning her to the cold of space, evidently, even as wounded as she is.
There's a glance from the blonde to the dark haired woman. Amusement is clear in her tone, "Blararawhat? Is that really a side effect of coffee, or did you take a zap working with the wires up in the showers?" She glances over to Stavrian, then, relieved to hear tea is on the menu. Her eyes follow the blue eyed man's movements. "A man who appreciates one of the finer things in life." There's a brief pause, and then it suddenly occurs to her. "Santiago Blue, by the way. I completely forgot to introduce myself before. Oh," she laughs, addressing Sofia again. "How do you live for years on communal showers in those tiny little coffin sized beds?"
Third teabag then, as that's more efficient than hunting around for juice. He doesn't drop the bags in ahead of time, just picking up the three cups of water in a triangle shape and carrying them back to the coffee table. Cups, teabags in wrappers tossed down. And a handful of sugar packets. He settles back on the couch, eyes raising to the viewport as he picks up a cup and tea, bypassing the sweet stuff. Watching air battle a second, then those strangely light eyes flicker back to Santiago. "Junior Lieutenant Jesse Stavrian, ma'am. Welcome aboard, or whatever the party line is." He blows gently on his tea, looking at Sofia. "Coffee'll kill you anyway." And BAM, Laskaris makes mincemeat out of Tisiphone, and he smirks at the window. "But not as prettily as that."
[Deep Space - Grid Alpha — Space]
[BlackKnight-310: Tisiphone] Tisiphone lets her Viper drift a little longer. Then, as the the Raspberry Raptors start peeling off for home, she kicks her reactivated boosters on and turns that way herself.
"… I'm not allowed to have coffee," This noted glumly. Sofia shrugs at that. And smiles. "Tea is nice. And I am Crewman Sofia Wolfe. Sofia is fine, or Wolfe or - whatever I guess." Sofia shrugs again. "Sometimes 'oh no' too." The joys of carrying paperwork. Sofia smiles at that. She looks to the fighting again. "Wow. That was a pretty good shot," She considers. Poor Tisiphone! She pauses at Santiago's question and shrugs. "I had sisters. At least no one kicks me in the bed anymore." She ponders this. "I heard the Officer's berths are little nicer. And if you time it right, the communal showers are nearly empty." Sounds like someone who's all too used to it and might bug out at the idea of her own bathroom. "But I wouldn't know really. It's not too bad. Just getting used to it takes awhile," She admits.
"Thanks for the tea, Lieutenant. Or would you prefer Jesse? I'm used to first names, but I've been told that can play as forward on a giant shiny Battlestar." The tone Santiago uses there is somewhat mysterious, though it suggests she may have had a lengthy conversation with someone recently about propriety. She reaches for a cup, and unwraps a teabag before dunking it into the hot water. She, too, skips the sugar, sitting back with the cup between her hands, warmth seeping into them. She nods to the crewman. "Sofia. A pleasure. Thank you, Sofia, for use of your jacket." She repeats the name again, perhaps a measure to ensure it sticks in her mind.
"Doesn't matter, ma'am." Stavrian, on the other hand, has no trouble deciding what to call his company. "Whatever you like." Really, it doesn't seem to bug him whether the civilian uses his rank or his name. There's a smirk aimed at the viewport as Sofia shares the rumour about Officers' Berthing. Does he confirm or deny? Nope, he sips his tea. "You in engineering, Wolfe?"
Curses! Foiled in her quest to uncover the mysterious Officer's Quarters. Someday, Gadget! Sofia notes, "It's forward to a lot of more traditional types. But most people are alright if you get to know them and use it then. I don't mind, it just confuses me sometimes. I'm usually Wolfe or Crewman more than Sofia." She shrugs at that. Sofia will watch her teabag, gently moving it. Oooh, swirly. She pauses, and happily soaks hers in sugar. BLASPHEMOUS! "Huh? Yes sir." Nodnod. "It's interesting and I've got kind officers, so it's working for me." She seems relatively pleased with her lot in life. "My division's a bit sparse, but that's probably for the better. You're in medical right? I think I fell down some stairs one time and someone was nice enough to set me upright."
"So noted." The civvie could be responding to either Sofia or Stavrian, possibly both. She takes a quiet moment with her tea, and she watches the training event wind down out there. "I hadn't heard that about the officer accommodations, but I'll let you know what I discover."
That earns Santiago an arch glance over the top rim of Stavrian's cup. "Don't tell me you're up here to count our bedsheet threads. I've heard of some aching dull jobs, but damn." He sips the tea and puts his elbows down on his knees, both hands keeping the cup wrapped. "Yes." That's to Sofia. "PA-C. Didn't hurt yourself, did you?"
Mwaha! Sofia will know what horrors lurk on that side! Sometimes engineers just get bored really. Sofia tilts her head. "That'll be itneresting." She will take a sip of her tea. "Huh? Nah, I bounce. Nature protects her slower moving animals right?" She is obviously being somewhat wry. "Then I should have been issued a suit of armor or something like maybe with lasers. It's kind of disappointing I guess." At least there's a sense of humor beneath the weaseliness. "Umm. I think it looks like the games are done…" Day late and a cubit short. Sadness.
"Absolutely not." There's a glance over to Stavrian. "I'm evaluating the Deck department. I brought my own sheets. Your sheets are quite safe." The suggestion in the tone is there's no way the thread count is high enough, even in the officer's quarters! A look at her clothing choice suggests the person who put her in with the greasy deck apes might have made a paperwork error, or has a sadistic streak. Large. She moves to the edge of her seat, and reaches up to slip the jacket from her shoulders, before she folds it neatly over the arm of the furniture she's chosen to perch upon. The tea seems to be taking care of the chill.
"The deck department." Stavrian echoes that back, making no attempt whatsoever not to be dry about it. Maybe he has noticed her clothes after all. "What do you mean? The personnel?" He sips his tea, taking a larger swallow now that it's cooled a little. Sofia's observation about the game makes for a quick flicker of eyes to viewport, then back to the two of them.
Blink. Pout. Heeeey, awww. All those awesome sheets. Maybe Sofia is left out? She tilts her head. Sofia pauses and will comment, "For what it's worth, I've found they're good people. Really industrious," She nods. She sips on the tea. "I guess since it's done, I should get going. Stuff probably is bursting into flames again." This in a casual, almost sad tone. "But be well both of you okay?"
"I'm here to evaluate the personnel. Their work. Efficiency. I'm bunked into a tiny coffin bed in the enlisted berthing. The idea, I gather, is that I'll get to know them on and off the job." Santiago certainly looks like a woman who knows a lot about efficiency and cost effectiveness, what with her multi hundred cubit shoes and designer threads. She sips her cooling tea, sampling the flavor of the packaged tea. There's a moment before she comments. "Hm. You can actually taste the bag." That is precisely what the Deck has in store. She glances over to Sofia as the woman makes moves to depart. "We should be fine… unless this room bursts into flames." The idea of 'bursting into flames' and 'space faring vessel with oxygen and enclosed space' are two concepts that do not settle well in Santiago's mind.
Stavrian's either, and one brow kind of arches. "Right. Goodnight, then." He skims a breath across the top of his tea and sips again, the teabga still in there. It's steeped to a dark colour by now, which he doesn't seem to mind. "The bag, hell. I can taste the factory they bagged it /in/." Another sip, nevertheless. "They put you in enlisted?" That might be a faint spark of amusement. Hard to tell, given that he doesn't smile at all. "Thought they had all of you in guest regardless."
"Night!" Sofia has finished. And strangely, the enlisted Navywoman has /no/ complaints about the tea. The military has killed her tastebuds perhaps. She smiles. "Of course. I don't think so though. The papers I pulle— you know, it's a long, boring logisticsy story but if the power flickers or you see sparks, don't take the shower or turn things on okay?" This in a casual, cheerful tone. Horrible death indeed. Sofia waves and meanders out after scooping up her jacket.
"We few, we lucky few," the blonde replies, with a very faint shake of her head before she's glancing over her tea toward the medic. "I heard they put a reporter in with the pilots. There's some PR initiative going on about immersion in military life." And yet military uniforms haven't been required of the civvies. Probably a safety measure. "I'll have the entire deck doing self manicures in a week. You wouldn't believe the amount of engine grease that makes its way into the living quarters." Her eyes follow Sofia as the woman takes her leave, and she lifts a hand to waggle her fingers a little in goodbye.
"I've spent half my time in the fleet bunking with Marines, ma'am. I believe dirt, grease, and the almighty sweat." Stavrian's tone is mildly fond nevertheless. He lifts his cup to Sofia as she bugs off. "A reporter with the pilots. The blonde? I'm not sure who to pity."
There's a distinct frown forming by the time Stavrian gets to 'sweat' in that statement. "Marines." It's hard to say what it is in that single word, the tone is a little flat. It's almost wary. "The testosterone on the Deck is at an easily navigable level, slightly keyed up by the proximity to pilots. I don't think anyone on this vessel is crazy enough to bunk me with the Corps." Talk about things bursting into flames. Santiago takes a moment to finish her tea, eyes on the glittering stars beyond the viewport. The view is still quite nice, even without the ships.
"If the military were never crazy enough to bunk most people with the Corps, there'd be no Corps." Stavrian sips his tea again, with not a single sound of slurp. Table manners, despite the styrofoam cup. The end of his soma braid dangles above his knee until he rests his arms down again. "Any departments you don't have a healthy contempt for, Ms. Blue?"
The frown is smoothed away by the first statement, and tics up into a slight smile by the time the second is asked. As she turns her head to regard the dark haired man seated nearby, it widens into a toothy grin that's flashed. "You're right." Her eyes briefly find the soma braid, though she glances up shortly after. "I assure you it's in no way personal. This assignment is a little off book. I'm sure my opinions will change, horizons broaden, when I get to know more individuals within the military's various faction. Until then, the answer to your question is and will remain 'no'. But I'm open to suggestions."
Stavrian hahs. "I'm so not taking that bait." He glances down at his watch, a surreptitious look rather than a pointed one. But it shows him what he about expected to see, and he finishes off his tea in two more swallows. Then, it's back to his feet. "I've got to get to duty. Good luck with all that deck mess. Don't break a nail." There's a smirk that saves that from being serious. Mostly.
Santiago uncrosses her legs, rises, and steps away from the coffee table after she scoops up the remaining sugar packets. "A wise man." She moves over to the side of the room, where the urns sit, and returns the unused portion to the bowl there. Her used cup is deposited right side up, off from the unused. She dusts her hands lightly, sweeping away imaginary dust or sugar grains, and reaches up to adjust her own jacket slightly, tugging it as if to snap out any wrinkles in the fabric. She smooths a hand down her torso, then slides her arms crossed again. The slightly defensive posture seems to be a habitual one. "Thank you for the company, Lieutenant." She can't help but glance down at her perfect manicure as he mentions nails. "Hm. Good evening."
No handshake offered to disturb said manicure. Much like there wasn't one upon meeting her. Stavrian tosses his cup into the right bin on the way out, making an imaginary hat-tip gesture back at her. "Gods bless." Exeunt.