| Of Gifts and Government |
| Summary: | Sawyer, Lunair, and Damon visit Rose in the Starboard Hangar at the same time for three completely different reasons. |
| Date: | 26 Sep 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Head Games |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Starboard - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Post-Holocaust Day: #212 |
| 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. |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
Another day in the Sardine Can - or at least, the people who take a lighter heart to their current situations call it that. A clear polarization has occurred in recent weeks following the death of Captain Sitka, with the population gathering at opposite ends of the hangar bay as opposed to one large organic lump of survivors. At one end, there are those prone to riot; the ones demanding change; the Sagittaron nationals. And at the other, are the military sympathizers; those who have faith in their situation. That is where Rose Ibbhanas can be found.
This evening, she's seated on what appears to be a knock-off Piconese rug, looking reasonably clean - likely scavenged from Aerilon recently. She's sorting through a box of clothing, folding into piles. The woman seems to do well for herself despite being rumored to be blind. And nearby, a group of individuals, mostly her age but a few older, hold a quiet scriptures reading circle. She occasionally smiles in their direction.
Sawyer has an agenda, she always has an agenda. There aren't enough hours in the day to operate without one. Today's schedule included a mandatory change in wardrobe, where she at least changed into jeans and a pair of boots in order not to stick out like a sore thumb in her usual suited attire. She slips down the stairway, flashing her credentials and security clearances to the marines out of habit before weaving her way into the civilian encampment. She stops, asking a lady and her husband something quietly, and seems to be pointed in the direction of Rose. "Miss Ibbhanas?" The journalist asks several feet away on her approach.
Hmmm. Lunair has a small bag with her, and seems to be wandering into the Sardine can. Her strangely colored eyes scan the crowd. She tries not to flinch at any glares. A nod to the Marines in passing and she smiles politely to any civvies she passes. But she has a mission. And there- there! Miss Rose' hair and a Sawyer are easier to spot then other things. She seems pleased and carefully heads over.
Enter Damon in off-duty dress carrying a small backpack, looking around the Starboard Hangar. The layout's changed somewhat since the last time he was here, and he's having difficulty finding - ah, there! He zeroes in on Rose, who is apparently rather popular tonight. He hangs back a bit, in sight but not up front, nervously looking about him to make sure he's not going to get surprise-shanked or anything. The scripture-readers are given a dubious look.
Rose pauses in her folding, an old, pink wool sweater in her hands. There's that imperfect glance upward at the source of the inquiry, clouded eyes not quite focusing directly on Sawyer's form. "Yes? That's me," she says. "Can I help you with something?" She places the sweater aside, back into the box whence it came.
Sawyer glances around, as if to get her bearings a bit better, then she focuses back on Rose. "I hope I'm not intruding, but I had hoped to get a chance to speak with you. My name is Sawyer Averies, I'm a journalist and currently the ship's historian. Do you mind if I sit and join you? I think you and I could be assets to each other."
Pause. Lunair is now near Sawyer and Rose. She keeps a respectful distance, and seems polite- though it's hard to tell with her. She wears her mask well, seeming forever distant and somewhat well bred. She smiles faintly and offers a soft, "Hello there. Is this private business?" She can dig it. Though Damon gets a little wave too.
Ship's Historian? Damon winces as it sounds like Rose is gonna be occupied for a while. He returns Lunair's wave with an uncertain little nod and smile. "Yeah, I, uh, just wanted to drop something off for Rose," he says, shrugging off the pack and digging through it. "I don't wanna interrupt if you're busy, though, I can come back later."
"Not at all," Rose responds to Sawyer, scooting back a bit and making room for her to share the rug. For those who know her, she's not her usual cheerful, outgoing self. A little reserved, today. To Sawyer, though, she's probably just being reserved and polite. "Assets? I'm afraid you might have the wrong person. I'm really no one special. What did you have in mind?" Glancing up at the other voice, she asks, "Miss Lunair? Is that you?" That seems to lighten her mood a little, hinting at a smile. "It's your hangar, Lieutenant. Come, have a seat. This rug is remarkably comfortable." She makes no acknowledgment or recognition of Damon, though.
Sawyer looks to Rose, and then waves the others over. "Nonsense. Nothing I have to say to Miss Ibbhanas can't be heard by others." She plants a hand on the carpet and then eases down onto it, settling easily into a cross-legged position and making herself comfortable. "Pardon, perhaps I misspoke. I had just seen that you had spoken out publically about the anti-military sentiment, and being a civilian myself, I thought I could help. That may be presumptuous of me, but there are so few of us left, now is not the time to be divided."
Lunair smiles at the two. "Aye, it's me," Lunair replies warmly. "And no, just because I'm an Officer doesn't mean I get to stomp about like a herd of bulls," She admits. She'll carefully sit and look to Damon. She lifts her eyebrows in a 'what did you DO' look. "I brought candy and tea by, just because it's rude to visit without," She admits. "But - there is some news to be had. I hope you're well?" She offers quietly, before falling silent as Sawyer speaks. However she feels about it is unknown. Her face only betrays a polite, distant bearing.
Damon cringes when Rose doesn't acknowledge him at all or even so much as glance in his direction. Lunair is given a nervous 'I frakked up' look in response to hers.. "Hoo boy," he whistles to himself. "This might be a bit embarrassing. Okay." From the bag, he produces a stack of goods that he sets down beside her along with the little backpack itself. "I just wanted to bring you some supplies - soap, shampoo, toothpaste, a set of clothes, and stuff - 'cause I figured it'd be a little while before the things we got from Aerilon the other night makes its way down to the civilians," he says, watching Rose for any kind of reaction. "And, uh, I grabbed some instant coffee as well, just thought that…" He trails off, ending the sentence with a shrug that she can't see. "You know, by way of apology." Looking as embarrassed as a man can get, he glances quickly to Lunair and Sawyer then back to Rose.
Rose listens to Sawyer's proposal, folding her hands in her lap. "Well, it entirely depends on what you're offering," she says to her. "Down here, right now, there are two polarized factions. Us, and them. It's terrible to say it that way, but there's no real way to describe it. I'm afraid one side is going to start stealing from the other, and you can imagine which side will provoke the other, first." She shrugs lightly. None of her trademark optimism to be found.
Rose glances over to Lunair, and her face melts from its uncharacteristic stony exterior to one of concern. "Oh, Lieutenant, that's too much! I…" Then there's Damon's gift. She slowly turns her head, peering up at Damon's shape, looking as if she can't decide to be happy, angry, or cry. "Really, no. No, it's all too much. There's so many people here, I can't accept any of this." She shakes her head.
Sawyer looks to Lunair and Damon as they offer some strange sort of tribute to the woman, or they are just being friendly. A soft smile forms on her lips, staying in the realm of polite. "Well, it might not be enough to forge those waters, but I'm going to be putting together a proposal to Command. To address concerns like education among the children, a more solid workforce then the volunteer one I've already seen in place…and eventually long down the road, I hope to see a government back in place."
"You can share it if you like, I apologize," She blushes. Lunair looks a bit abashed. "I hadn't expected," She admits. Then a deep breath and a headtilt. "Well. If it's any consolation, once we find a suitable vessel, the majority of the gardening and food production will be taken over by civilians," She notes. "I feel a bit strange, I love my little garden," She admits, expression twinging a bit. "So I think I'm going to keep a few baby trees," She admits with a little grin. "Just the ones from home maybe. But- it is likely going to be run by the Civilians. The medicinal and controlled plants will be on here though, where we can keep an eye out. It's not that we don't trust folks, it's that I'd rather it not get raided for someone's party. But I am glad to hear things are being done. And they are getting things too," She notes to Rose. "We raided a Mall. Stuff has been and will be handed out."
Damon casts nervous glances about the bay when Rose mentions the two factions amongst the civilians. Whoever told him the story of what happened to Sitka must have really gotten him jumpy. "Yeah - we're searching for a suitable ship right now," he says, adding on to Lunair's explanation. "For all your algae and hydroponics. I've been in talks with Major Hahn and Major Cavanaugh about it." He casts an apologetic look to Sawyer, whose conversation he didn't mean to interrupt. "I was down there raiding the mall with the team, that's where I got this stuff," he says, nodding to the pile he just set down. "Like the El-Tee said, we've got a massive load of stuff that's gonna trickle down soon."
"So… there's more coming? Much more? Enough for everyone?" Rose asks, looking more towards Lunair than Damon, although now she's actually looking at him as opposed to before. "Well, that's great news! That means I can share this, with the promise that there's more coming." She nods to Lunair, managing to smile. "That's wonderful, Lieutenant. Once you get square footage and power outputs of the chosen vessel, could you get back to me? Also, we'll need water processing equipment."
Rose takes a deep, cleansing, focusing breath, and exhales slowly. Her cloudy eyes alight back on Sawyer's shape. "These are all wonderful things, Miss Averies, but… it sounds like you already have a political plan in place. I'm… not much for politics. The workforce volunteers, well, I passed that along. Needs for the children, that's good as well, but the community can teach their children before I would ask the military to provide something. You see, the reason why there is division on this hangar deck is because there are some that expect the government to provide everything on a silver platter, and then let them have it all to themselves. They expect vulgar actions will bring about the change they want." At the mention of 'vulgar actions', she glances at Damon, quickly. "There are those of us who are content with making our own way with the understanding that supplies like what Miss Lunair and Mister Damon here are providing us. We don't expect them. I don't expect them."
Sawyer shakes her head, though no doubt it's an expression that Rose will miss. Thankfully, Sawyer verbalizes it as well. "No, no. I'm not suggesting the military provide these things for us. I'm suggesting we get out from beneath martial law. That we be allowed to start forming some sort of semblance of society again. Where people have work pride, where families have privacy, and more so, where everyone has a vote again. I'm not proposing that we separate ourselves, but I'm also suggesting we don't have to live in the shadow anymore. What I'm suggesting, is that we work together, civilian and military, to stop running away from our past and start building towards a future. I realize this war is not going to end in our forseeable future. Maybe not even in our children's forseeable future, but that doesn't mean that we should stop living. It's been six months now. It's time to start rebuilding. That's all. I'm not asking you to become a politician. I'm a far cry from one myself. But you seem to be a strong woman whom people respect and I thought together some good might come out of all of this." She looks to Damon and Lunair again, "Expanding to a secondary ship, the growth of the hydroponics lab tended by hard working people who want to help carve out our existance? It's progress. And progress that needs to be managed without adding to the stressors our military is already under. That's all. I'm sorry to intrude, it seems you have social calls to attend to, and I wouldn't presume to take up more of your time."
Lunair's eyebrows lift a little at the mention of Martial law. "I wish we had more private places for you, but unfortunately…" She rubs the back of her head. Well, Cerb doesn't really have a lot. She sighs softly. "Either way, I figured you wanted to know that news and I'd see how you were doing. I will be out of your hair now," She smiles a little. "I adore gardening, and whether my fellows are military or not, I am happy. Be safe, hm?" She offers a little wave as she stands.
Whew, government and politics talk. Damon just keeps quiet when Sawyer and Rose discuss the finer details of resurrecting civilian government, but from the slight frown that forms on his face, it appears he's got some misgivings about the idea. But he refrains from chiming in on that conversation. That look that Rose gives him when she mentions 'vulgar actions' pastes a guilty look onto his face. "Well, we're trying to get that hydroponics ship off the ground as soon as possible," he says, sounding more than a little miserable. "That'll improve the situation considerably, I think, if we can get a ship for the civilians to have their own space." He doesn't know what to do as Sawyer and Lunair wind down their conversations; he just stands there with his hands in his pockets, shoulders a little hunched. "I guess, uh, I'll just…" He takes a step back.
Rose is polite, listening to all Sawyer has to say. After all, she did the same for her. Smiling politely, she says, "I think you have the wrong person. Poseidon hasn't finished taking from us. It's not time." What does that mean? Looking up to Lunair and Damon, though, she nods. "I'll make sure to spread the word that folks will be getting some essentials. Thank you both. But for now… I ought to get to finishing folding." Another glance is spared for Damon, but she doesn't make any attempt to stop him.
Sawyer puts her hands on her jean clad knees, pressing into them as she rises. "Perhaps. But I'd welcome a chance to speak to you again on the subject. Even if your thoughts are contrary, I'd enjoy your input. But, some other time. Pardon the intrusion." The last is to all three of them, though she arrived before Lunair and Damon. "Thank you again."
Lunair smiles at Damon, "Hey. Do you want to see if the mint is edible with me? We've got a second, larger run coming in. Perhaps you should bring Miss Rose some mint in apology," She offers quietly. A look to the two Civilians. "If you wish, I know Miss Rose is likely to be head of or second in charge of the food project. I am not sure of others. Please let me know if you wish to offer input. For now, I have cats to herd." She waves. "Be well. Think nothing of it."
"Mints…?" Damon echoes, giving Lunair a blank look. None of this is going the way he'd hoped, and he's hopelessly lost now as to what to do. "Oh no, you weren't - I mean, I was the one intruding," he stammers. And yet, even though he was last to arrive, he seems to be the last one to go. If he's going at all - he takes one more step away, pauses, looks back, and just stands there looking conflicted. He can fix broken ships just fine, but awkward situations are beyond his grasp.
Rose, somberly and without any expression, goes back to what she was doing when everyone arrived: back to folding clothes. This, it seems, is what's important to her this evening. Not government, not politics, not schools nor mint. Just the simple act of duty to one's village.
Damon clears his throat nervously. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry, was all," he murmurs. "I'll leave you alone." Even still, it takes him a few seconds to actually start walking away, hands still jammed deep in his pockets. He mumbles to himself as he heads off, continuing to look around him like a squirrel on the lookout for danger.