| Home Invasion |
| Summary: | A skirmish party from Engineering heads into hostile marine enlisted territory. |
| Date: | 11 May 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | None. |
| Players: |
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| Enlisted Marine Berths |
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| Designed specifically to house a small Marine contingent, this berthing is one of the smallest on the ship. The bunks are arranged in standard formation in the classic over-under configuration and lockers dividing each one. However, the lockers here are a bit larger than most elsewhere on the ship to accommodate the bulky combat gear associated with the security details of the crew that lives here. Tables are spread out for use through the area with their standard allotment of chairs. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #439 |
The evening has arrived and Ciro has just woken. With hours waiting until his next shift, he's decided to get cleaned quickly and make his way back to his place of rest for some more reading. Stepping through the door with a towel around his waist, his hair is damp from the shower as he makes his way across the cold, unforgiving plating on the floor. Making his way towards the corner of the room, he stops at his bunk and pulls open his locker, digging for clothes.
The usual suspects, arriving in the not so usual spot. Soft footsteps first, then The Chair, "Alright, Specialist. You brought the taser, I trust? Fully charged? Good." A nod, as if it were a foregone conclusion. Wolfe always comes prepared. "Alright then, clear the area ahead, so we can get to work." Look, there's a reason engineers have a reputation of being slightly cracked. Because they are.
Sofia is clearly here to absorb any punishment. That's why footsteps come first. "Yes'm," She nods. Some people are leaders. Some people are followers. And some are just good minions. She seems amused. But her tone is perfectly serious. She knocks. "Um. RAWR. Don't resist please." Headpokes in. "Just kidding, please keep all pants on." Smile. "Wait, that's not right. Man good thing I'm not an MP I guess. Regardless, we need to come in." That's more of a WILL than the need.
The corner of the room is sufficient distance to hear the two enter, and the maze of bunks gives him a little bit of time to double-time getting dressed. Quickly, he grabs a pair of issued boxer briefs and a pair of the olive-colored fatigues from the rack. Throwing the towel aside, he enters a hopping dance to try to hustle getting ready. "Son of a bitch…" He mutters under his breath, recognizing the voices. "…hang on a second." He calls out, wincing as he bangs his shoulder into his bunk as he secures his boxers into place.
"Oh. you don't need to be a good MP, Sofia. You just need to make sure you hit flesh. Have you seen what a full charge will do to a person?" A clanking sound, as the equipment cart is rolled in behind the invasion force, as Ximena and her platoon of one make their way down into the main corridor. "I hear the sounds of the opposition already." Banging and cursing are audible, the location and personage isn't. Yet. "Very well, then. Establish the perimeter." For her part, Ximena makes her way to the wallplating that conceals the control valves for the head. "Shall we give them warning, do you think? Or should we just shut the water off all in one go?"
Sofia sounds amused, hearing Ciro. Boxers huh. Teehee. "Okay! And yeah, a few times actually." She closes an eye. "Okie dokey!" With that, Sofia will peep around and get a head count. "Only a couple of people. Guess we just missed the rush," She considers. "Hmmm. Maybe warning. It would be pretty gross if someone didn't was their hand." She nods. "Or I think so anyway." She shrugs and smiles. "But that's your call sir," Sagenod. She definitely can't stop smiling.
There's something about dressing quickly that doesn't work well with the tall man, and since he's found his way into his boxers, he figures that they're spared the sight of his blindingly white ass and so he slows. Pulling the fatigues up his form, he buttons them closed and grabs his towel. Throwing it over his shoulder, he starts to re-dry his hair as he rounds the bunks towards their side of the room. He's left his shirt behind, but that seems to be common in the small bunkhouse, with two of the men lounging around in a similar state of dress. "So…is this maintenance you're doing or are you trying to start a war with marine country?" He asks, tsking quietly at the sight of them. "My vote's for frak'em. Find joy in their screams."
"Believe me, Sergeant, if there was a war between Engineering and the Marines, we would win. We control every last inch of this boat. Nothing happens without our say so. You might have bigger guns, but we control life support." Ximena's voice comes from close to the ceiling, where The Chair's lifted up to allow her to unfasten the plating and drop it down onto the wires that hold it in place. "I have one vote for clemency, and one for screams. Very well." The M&R officer reaches in, twisting off the valve that runs the hot water line into the head. The sudden flash of all cold water all the time brings a riotous amount of noise from the people in the middle of their showers, Ximena's voice rising, the Big Girl voice, the likes of which few people ever hear once they leave basic training, "All personnel, you have five minutes to clear the head!"
Sofia looks amused by Ximena's response. "Well, that and they might explode from not being able to use the Head," She remarks. She seems amused, smiling still. She looks to Ximena. Then a giggle at the noise. Oh dear. She puts a hand over her mouth to hide the smile. "That's so awful yet so awesome." Her eyes are bright. She does stand in front of Ximena though, protectively in case any Marines think to come swinging after her boss. She's a squishy snipe - absorbs damage well maybe? Yes. She looks over her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for you," She promises, waving a hand. Then a pause. She's just stifling all those giggles.
The marines inside of the head groan in protest, many of them shouting in surprise as their warm water is replaced by the ice-cold feeds. There's at least four naked bodies in there, scrambling to turn off the showers and dry themselves off. One dares to protest, barking a series of syllables in the snipes' direction, most of the understandable words sound like "frak".
Scratching his bare chest, Ciro leans around the base of the hydraulic chair to glance into the head. "Well…not that I don't doubt the two of you would have considered it a treat if I were in there, I guess I'm gonna have to be grateful that I made it out first." He laughs, resting the towel on his shoulder. His mohawk sticks out in funny directions, still damp enough to be wet to the touch, but dry enough to be unkempt. "Shame you've shown me around the engineering deck. I'd be a dangerous enemy to have. I know where you keep your valves and your tools."
"Thankfully, there are a number of other heads they can feel free to use. The thought of a platoon of marines invading the pilot's head makes me want to smile all over." Ximena works quickly and efficiently, rerouting the warm water lines to feed in the cleaning solvent that keeps things from getting mucked up. The system, as efficient as it is, will do the work in just a few minutes, so the head being out of service isn't a semi-permanent thing. She even manages that smile as the marines start to file out of the head, answering their murderous looks with a saccharine sweet, "Thank you for flying Air Cerberus. Have a nice day." The cold lines are next, and then the waste lines. It'll all get done in order. "If anyone looks at you funny, Specialist, you are authorized to put down all resistance." Eyes shift from the 3M and over to the marine, "Only the ones we want you to see. Think of it as hiding the butcher knife and leaving out the company silverware."
"Please feel free to use the other heads on board! Rumor has it pilot berth has cuties!" Sofia announces cheerily in response to the frak and curses. Then a pause to Ximena. "Like that?" Her eyes widen a bit. She will keep an eye out for Ximena though as the Marines file by. "Okay!" She pauses. "Hey that's why I found a riding crop in that office desk. It's all coming together now." Her eyebrows are nesting on her forehead now. It makes SENSE. She smiles at Ciro. "Yeah, too much mohawk for one pair of girls I guess." She seems to go with the joke. "And she's right. We have um, stuff. And things that people totally can't see." Nod. She will help out and pass tools or aid as needed, but she's a good minion, mostly keeping her eyes open.
Ciro huffs, his tattooed arms shifting up and down with his chest as he turns away. Snatching the towel back into his hands, he starts to walk back in the direction of his bunk. "There's never too much mohawk for a pair of girls." He muses, coming to a stop at his locker. His eyebrow raises, wondering if what he said came across as what it sounds like. Shaking away the thought, he pulls a clean pair of tank-tops from the locker and shuts it. Wrapping them around his hands, he pulls them over his head and chest as he walks back. "I'm starting to wonder if the two of you could actually get away with random tazing…" He trails off, finally pulling the last of the clothing down his torso. "Anyway, bullshit. Everyone knows that when it comes to toys my crew has yours beat hands down. Life support? We can get to flight suits. We have bullets, breaching tools, and sharp sticks enough to take your neck of the woods. But don't treat any them with sympathy. Not a one of them deserves it." He smirks, stretching out an arm to raise a middle finger in the direction of one of the marine women that's getting dressed with a pair of chattering teeth.
"Exactly like that, Sofia." Ximena works smoothly and efficiently, for all that the two engineers seem to have made it their mission to disrupt the marine enlisted as much as humanly possible today. "Shush, nobody's supposed to know about the riding crop. It's an officer secret." A moment, at Ciro's slightly unwittingly offcolour comment, "That's more information than I needed to know about where your head has been, Sergeant." As for Ciro trying to defend his marine's ability to survive atmosphere loss, "Specialist, make a note. When the time comes, lockdown the bulkheads and vent deck six to space." There's always a way to get back at the non-engineers on board. "I'm sure the Specialist here could get away with just about anything. That's why I brought her in as my backup."
Sofia smiles. Then she ohs softly. "Okay." She nods. "Not telling anyone about the riding crop," Honest! She smiles at Ciro's response. She definitely seems amused. "Hmm. I would blame uhm." She ponders. "Wait, I cou— ooh right." She catches on slowly. Sofia apparently doesn't do that sort of thing much. She goes bright red. "They don't? I feel sympathy! I had my clothes stolen once while I was in the shower." A headshake. Oh the humanity! She looks really amused now. "But they do have Gunny… he's super badass," She admits. "Like, he punches Centurions and they regret their poor choices in life before they crumple." She goes quiet, smiling a bit. "Noted, sir!" She nods. She's smiling. "I don't think I'd let anyone hurt Ximena if I could still stand up. Um. My Snipe Slam is pretty deadly. Too bad there's no costume." But she does go quiet for awhile.
Ciro's eyes narrow as he snorts, watching the reactions on their faces. Seems he's in a better mood today, or at least he's a creature in his preferred habitat. Either way, he leans against a bunk to watch them work with his arms folded across his muscular chest. "…and you wondered why I shaved my head this way." He responds to Ximena's note of too much information. He glances to Sofia and then to Ximena again, biting the side of his lip as he forms an idea. "Ah, so Wolfe can get away with anything but you can't? I see. Send in the P.R. first to blind the angry M.P.s with smiles and body-slams while the Queen of Darkness herself injects blue dye into the marine shower lines. I'm gonna have to let Gunny know you two think this way. Petty or not, I'm sure we can take all that confidence down a notch or two."
"Far be it from me not to use every advantage I have. Now, Sofia might be one of the smartest and most talented electrical engineers on the boat, this is true. But in this case, I'm more thinking of the fact that she's also one of the most beautiful women onboard." Not to mention she's built like she won the chromosomal lottery. "And there's nothing most marines like better than a pretty woman. And that's when we get them with the kick in the pants." Ximena offers a cheeky smile to Sofia, as the 3M hands her up a wrench and a replacement fitting. "From what I've heard of the Gunnery Sergeant, he would just slap you around the head and shoulders and tell you to man up, instead of being frightened of a couple of engineers."
Sofia looks amused. She waves at Marines passing. Then she laughs. "… Gunny is a good guy. He wouldn't scare someone senselessly," She nods sagely. She smiles at Xim, though her face goes red. "T-thanks sir. You flatter me." She rubs the back of her head after handing the wrench and fitting over. "Aah. I dunno, I'm okay enough. Beauty's more than a build. It's attitude too. You can really tell when someone is confident or something," She considers. "This boat is full of pretty women. That said, a lot of girls understate themselves." Nod. She thinks so anyway. A smile at Ximena though. "Right. We're not scary. We're innocent and sweet. I think."
The cheekiness of the two working together seems to have a good effect on the usually quiet marine, who watches their interchange with quiet interest. He glances to the door to the head, and a quiet look of plotting falls over him, only to have it destroyed when he realizes that the water is, in fact, shut off. "Frak." He mutters under his breath. "You're spot on with Gunny, though, he doesn't really mince bullshit. He'd probably say something about stop whining like a bunch of babies crying over a cup of spilled milk kicked over by a couple of giggling girls." He smirks, tilting his head to gaze at the ceiling as he stretches the muscles in his neck. "Which you two are right now. You got way too much satisfaction out of that." He smirks. "So what exactly are you doing right now? Just routine stuff?"
"I agree with you there, Sofia. A great personality can do wonders for you, and a terrible one can sink you 90 percent of the time." The fitting is replaced, before the solvent is sluiced out of the system, and the gauges read, noted, and everything checked, before they pair will start to feed water back into the system. "Sofia, can you get to the runoff conduit inside the head and turn it on, I need to flush the system." Of course, this is all perfectly times for just after Ciro realizes he's been defeated by a couple of girls. "Contrary to popular belief, Engineers do not spend their whole day running around saving the world and having adventures and being generally well, pretty darned marvelous. Most of it is very routine. The battlestar is essentially a city in space. And we have to be everything from city planners, to electricians and mechanics to sanitation workers. A bad clog in the system is bound to piss off a fair amount of the 2000 plus people we have living and working onboard. So our job is to make sure life is as seamless for you as possible."
Sofia nods sagely at Ximena. She smiles faintly. "It's true," She agrees with Ciro's comments on the gunny. "Mostly." She agrees. "Also exploding poo pipes would be one hundred percent bad," She adds helpfully. "Yes'm, I can go ahead and get that." With that, she moves around to take care of that and soon there's the soft wooshing of a conduit. She thumbsups. "Got it!" She squirms. "No one finds changing lightbulbs or sorting papers exciting I guess. I have fun doling out requisitions though. It's like being the tool fairy." Take joy where one can find it.
"That puts it all into a nice little perspective doesn't it. Two thousand cranky-ass people with a need for cleanliness and hot water. No wonder you hide down where you do, you probably peek your heads out and get reminded in passing about a problem with the head or a problem with it being too cold in the bunkhouse, right?" He sympathizes, lifting his eyes to the pipes as Sofia's end is completed and the conduit comes to life. "Well, if it makes either of you feel better, marine life in this situation is like being a security guard until you're needed for much uglier work. When you're not standing in place you're fighting, and when you're not doing that it's all rack-time and push-ups."
"Run it at 70 percent for five minutes, then adjust it up to 85, would you, Sofia?" Everything's going along just smoothly, just the way the pair seem to like it. "You also don't mind spending extended periods in sickbay while they patch Shim back together." Poor Sofa, saddled with a Robin with two left feet, and hands. "Pretty much. Every time you turn around, someone's complaining that engineering isn't doing their job. Only no one wants to come down there and get their hands dirty. They just expect what they want when they want it, and it had better be perfect." A glance over to Ciro, as she watches the last of the solvent flush out of the system and water start to cycle back through, "That's because you're not an MP. Most of the marines we picked up after Warday were not trained for the sort of work that's done aboard a military vessel."
"Hehe, something like that. I can't complain," She admits. Then Sofia nods at Ximena. "Aye aye, sir. 70 percent." She'll wait the five minutes and shift it to 85 percent, merrily enjoying the company. "Shim's not a bad guy. I guess they just had some spare left feet," One eye closes. She sighs. "They also really should not have contracted this stuff to the lowest bidder." She looks annoyed. "We could've prevented at least one fire." A deep sigh at that. Then she smiles. "People will always complain. Too hot, too cold, not enough light, too much light… We just find a happy middle ground," She shrugs at that. Then she smiles over when she can spot Ciro. "Yeah, though I can't talk too much. I can only take so many hours because I can't drink caffeine without going cuckoo."
"True, true. I wasn't trained to live on a ship, and most of my training is all dedicated towards long days, weeks climbing around in the mud without being seen. Frak, I didn't even pull much post-duty back when I was at Broome on Scorpia because I was already assigned to SST at that point. I'd lie and tell you that it's not boring as hell, but there's something I really envy about the way you two at least have to do little jobs like these." He smiles back to Sofia, catching her beaming smile towards him. He lifts his gaze to Ximena. "I'll put in a good rap for you guys after this and remind them to submit the requests through the proper channels, try to curb some of that bad press.
"If we actually had a ship that was the best money could buy, Sofia, I think we'd be out of jobs fairly quickly. The trick is, to find jobs you can do besides what you were trained to do. Or, well, more precisely, to find ways you can use your training to create new things for yourself to do. The specialist, for example, spends as much time working the deck than she does in engineering. Life on a ship is boring. Until it isn't. Even with everything we've done and seen and experienced this last year, we're still had more days where we sit around and contemplate our own navels, so to speak, than actually doing work that keeps us busy and engaged. But isn't that why you picked up those gunsmithing books? Which reminds me, Sofia, the Sergeant will be in and around Engineering. While he's down there, try to give him a hand if he needs it. He'll probably spend most of his time in fabrication." The system, now fully maintained, is put back online, "I'd ask if anyone wanted to try it out, but I don't want to get trampled underfoot." A shake of her head, to Ciro, "No need. People need something or someone to vent at, might as well be us. We're used to it."
Sofia looks towards Ciro. "Yeah?" She tilts her head. She smiles at him. "I appreciate that," She bobs her head in a nod. Then a faint laugh. "Yeah, sometimes they take me to deck or CIC since I can work an ECM pretty well. It just makes sense to me. I don't know that I'd ever want to go full Air Wing. I hear THINGS about those berths. Though, the CAG is wise and really mysterious. I like her," She admits. She smiles and listens to Ximena. "Okay, I'll try to set aside some scraps we can't use for him to practice on if he wants," She offers. "She's right. Friends can vent to friends. Especially since I doubt you have a diary or journal." She grunts as the system comes online. "That's probably wise sir, stampeding Marines are deadly. I think we had a musical about that once. Or was it lions? I forget. Anyway. Marines and food and showers or Lions and Deer…" She waves a hand.
"Diary? No, no such thing but if you're curious about what my living space looks like you need to look no further than that corner." He tilts his thumb back in the direction of his bunk. "That's where you'll find me in here, at least while I'm in here. As for the scraps? Sure, put aside whatever you can. I'm going to have to practice with the machinery so whatever you two can offer along the lines of walkthrough on the actual machines and advice wouldn't go unappreciated." He steps past them, glancing into the head. He's daring to consider testing the water, and so he does. One foot after another, he heads over to one of the showers. "Alright, so just turn one of these on?" He calls over his shoulder, casting a suspicious glance in their direction.
"I doubt, very highly, the Major would clear you to transfer over to the Wing, regardless. We need you in engineering." Wit everything put back to order, she waits, watching Ciro head into the head. "Just like you were actually taking a shower. I'm sure you know how those go." No, nothing explodes out of the showerhead, no battery acid or bug juice from the galley. Just water. Safe. Seriously. "Whatever we can do to help you, we will. It's not trial by fire down there. Usually." A final glance at the gauges, before Ximena lifts the cover back into position and begins affixing it back to the hull.
Hee. "Yeah, that and I like Mark. I'd hate to break his heart," She admits. She tilts her head. "Okay. I'll keep a few bits. There's small scraps - not much but. Probably enough you could see and try," She offers. A smile at Ximena. "I'd miss you guys too much to transfer," She finally confesses. "That and shiny ranks seem way too important for me." Nuh uh. None for her. She grins. "That'd be awesome!" She offers, looking to Ciro. "Should I tell him to stand to the side?" A look to Ximena. "And yeah. We're glad to help. It's waaaaaay too dangerous to let someone loose alone on that stuff anyway. Even people already trained."
Turning the valve, Ciro waits until the water starts to turn warm before he turns the shower off again. He doesn't get too wet, save for his arm. Shaking his hand a few times to whip the water away, he dries his hand on the side of his tank tops as he steps back over. "Mark's a good CO, it seems you are all pretty lucky on that one. Miss him or not, he seems a good person to work for, worth the post even if it gets boring." Ciro offers, adjusting his necklace and dog tags as he steps back over to his perch. Turning, he leans and shifts his gaze between the two. "So I'm off duty for a while. Do you have any other stops after this? I don't mind helping out."
"Oh, I'm sure we'd find ways to make sure you ended up back in engineering. Have no fear of that, Sofia." Once everything's back in place, Ximena lowers the chair, turning to putting away the parts she changed out, and setting the tools back into place. She and Sofia might joke about some things, but tools and proper ordering of them is sacred stuff. "What's next on the docket, Sofia? I know we have to get down to the galley at some point."
Sofia hees softly at that. She smiles and nods, listening to them. "Umm." She reaches for a clipboard and peers. "Well, there's some stuff I need to dole out later. But it looks like the Galley and maybe the guest quarters here if we've time. Oh wait, we need to get the waste oil storage…" Her face falls. "That's one of the few things I am not so fond of. But. If we only did stuff we WANTED." Well. Y'know. She shrugs at that. "Guess we should get the unpleasant one done first." Sadface.
"Galley? I need to head that way anyway at some point. It's still morning for me and I'm probably going to try to snag something off of the cold line." Turning away, Ciro steps over to his bunk and opens his locker. Checking to make sure everything's in place, he sets the lock and closes the back drape to show that he's out. Brushing his hand through his mohawk to set it on end and make sure it's not too unkempt, he follows after them.
A quirk of her lips into a knowing smile, as Ximena nudges Sofia, before she starts pushing the tool cart towards the hatch and down along the hall, as the 3M and the pseudo-engineer follow along with her, the trio heading for the freight elevators, "He thinks he's going to have an appetite when we're done, Sofia." Oh, what fools these marines be.