PHD #287: Not Issues, But Volumes
PHD #287: Not Issues, But Volumes
Summary: Andrea visits Khloe in the brig. She tries to get her to open up, with some limited success.
Date: 10 Dec 2041 AE
Related Logs: No Respect, Take It Down A Notch
Andrea Khloe 
Officer's Brig - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
These pair of cells are roomier than one might expect. Each one is provided individual access by a door at the front, located on the other side of the room from the hatch. Each one essentially an armored glass cage, this area is walked and guarded by Marines day and night. Privacy not being a huge concern for prisoners, inside the cell is a single bunk and toilet in full view with nothing else. All visitors must sign-in with the Marine at the desk. Cameras are located at the entrance and on the cell itself, everything recorded onto disk in the Security Hub.
Post-Holocaust Day: #287

Not much time left for Khloe in the brig, perhaps half a day. Most of the attention is on the civilian freighter's christening ceremony, so she's not had much in the way of visitors. Right now she's doing push-ups, but with her feet on her cell's cot. Push-ups at an angle. "Four… Five…" Even for someone as fit as she, it's a challenging work-out.

The door opens, and in comes Andrea, fresh off of CAP and still in her flight suit. After checking in, she walks over to the bars and looks through to Khloe with a smile. Her own muscles twitch a bit at the intense exercise.

Khloe finishes her set of ten and rolls on to her back on the floor, breathing heavily. This gives her an upside-down view of her visitor. "What can… I do for you… Hosedown?" She asks, making no motion to get up just yet.

"You could always clap between push-ups. That's real impressive, especially on an incline." Andrea smiles through the bars, then glances around. "I wish they'd put me in this one, instead of that one." She waves a hand at the cell that had held her. "The cracks in the plaster are more decorative, and I swear my security cam had a leer."

"Did you come down here for a reason, or are you just poking fun through the bars while you can?" Khloe asks, rolling to her side and pushing up off the ground so she can stand and face the other woman.

"It's called a visit, sir." Andrea's smile remains, not mocking, just friendly. "Traditional when a friend, or wingmate, if you prefer, is behind bars. Also traditional when a friend, or wingmate, is dealing with issues. I got a couple when I was in here, just paying it forward, you know."

Khloe chuckles dryly, and definitely not with humor. "I don't have issues, Hosedown, I have volumes. That's why I'm in this cell," she explains flatly. Folding her arms across her chest, with a quick sigh, she says, "I appreciate the visit. But it's not like there's a lot to talk about."

"Not a lot to talk about? More like metric shit-tons, sir." Andrea sighs as well. "I appreciate it may not be me you want to talk to, but I'm here and its not like you have much else to do at the moment. At this particular pass, I'm not carrying a great deal of baggage. Still too happy to be here, flying, with people again. So let me shoulder some of yours, hey?"

Khloe rolls her eyes. "You've been talking to Toast, haven't you," she says more like a revelation and less a question. Even if it's not true, she continues on. "There are very few people I trust enough to offer my innermost feelings, Hosedown, and even though the Major has encouraged me to… open up a bit…" She scowls a little at that. "Confessing my deepest, darkest feelings to you through the bars of a cell isn't my idea of a good time. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm really okay. Really." She's terrible at Triad for a reason.

"Talk to the CAG?" Andrea laughs. "Poppy, not too long ago she found a naked, obnoxious deckie in her Raptor, and I'm the one who put him there. I haven't exactly been seeking her out for much more than CAP rotations." Andrea grins. "So skip the deepest and darkest for now. I don't need your life story. Talk about Money Shot, if you want. It's actually supposed to help, you know. If it makes it easier, it is recommended by fleet psychiatrists, which makes talking about it ALMOST a regulation."

Khloe turns away, scowling. This is not her ideal scenario. "Look, Hosedown," she begins, voice a little softer. The brassy edge is gone, anyway. "Give me a day, all right? I'm not going to talk about it in here no matter how much you press the subject. Look me up once I'm back to duty, all right? That's the best you're going to get."

Andrea pauses, then nods. "Deal. But before I go… I slept in the bunk above Money Shot for a month before she died. I didn't know her. I wanted to, but she wasn't there to know. You can't fly solo. It's as stupid with this shit as it against Raiders, ok?" Andrea smiles. "I say this as a subordinate officer who knows exactly how to bruise your knuckles with my face, so don't take me for granted. I get shit done."

"I never bruised your face with my knuckles, Hosedown. There were boxing gloves in the way," Khloe corrects her. Although she doesn't smile, the tone of her voice is lighter. Less dry, anyway. "See you later."

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