| Of Snipes and Bonsais |
| Summary: | Lunair, Mark and Marko unwind in the galley after the big jump. |
| Date: | Sat Jan 08 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Takes place after Favor for Favor. |
| Players: |
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| Galley — Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Behind the two hangar decks, the Cerberus' Galley is the largest room on the ship. Nearly half the size of a football field, the eating area is made up of long lines of stainless steel tables that can be folded up and placed against the wall for larger events. Individual seats are the standard military issue, boring and gray with lowest-bidder padding. The line for food stretches across one of the shorter sides of the room while the kitchen behind works nearly twenty-four hours a day to produce either full meals or overnight snacks and coffee for the late shifts. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #316 |
Wandering into the Galley, Mark doesn't even bother with the overnight grub served by the crew. Given Condition Three and the celebration of jumping away, there's a few people working on a drunk hanging around but the man in his orange coveralls does not appear to be one. Dingy and dirty, he heads for the large coffee pot to fill his brew with a large folder in hand. He then heads for a table. Settling in away from most of the louder folks, he kicks his feet up onto a chair and opens the folder, taking up a few papers to look over while he sips. He doesn't look in any danger of being bothered by company.
Marko finally meanders into the Galley after a quick shower and a uniform change, skips the chow line and makes a beeline for the bug juice dispenser. A mug is snagged, the cup is iced, filled and then the young ECO looks around for a quiet spot to sit and just…._be_. The table where Mark is looks just perfect.
Mark looks up towards the approaching individual and flashes an easy smile. "Hey. How goes?" Even if he's in uniform the guy does not seem terribly concerned about rank or whatnot. "Looks like you've had a long day." He's one to talk. There's still some grease smudges on his forehead and it looks like the man hasn't seen a shave in more than a few days.
"Heh, I'm guess a hell of a lot better than yours, LT." Marko chuckles, taking a seat with a polite nod. "I can't believe you guys managed to pull it off." he adds, offering his mug in a toast. "Damned good work."
Mark chuckles, shaking his head. "Don't thank me. I turned a wrench, sure, but the enlisted kicked some serious ass. Eighteen hour days for near three weeks?" He clicks his teeth. "I've never seen people work themselves into exhaustion like that and still keep kicking. Fires up the Pride-o-meter." He sips at the coffee. "Now we can get down to some serious shit. Course, until they send my ass back to Praetorian." He lays a (thankfully clean) hand across the table. "Mark Makinen." Guy must wear gloves most of the time.
"Marko Scaurus." Marko replies, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm squeeze. "Between the snipes and the knuckle draggers, this ship would fly into a million pieces." he chuckles. "No offense meant, of course." he adds quickly. "So you're on the Praetorian?" he asks curiously. "How's things going over there?"
Enter the proverbial ball and chain. Lunair's likely sneaking in or fetching some coffee. Judging by the businesslike look? Probably both. Lunair hums softly, then pauses. Seems a bit empty and just enough to spot her husband. She smiles and turns towards Marko. "Hello there." She greets him, smiling warmer. And pauses. "Who's your friend?"
"Well met, Marko." The Snipe Officer returns the firm shake. "Hey, no offense taken. Hard to hate the truth when you just kind of have to accept it anyway." He barks a few laughs at that. "Yeah. The Sluggin P. Wish I could tell you. Been here since Decks ten and eleven went to shit. Before that?" He shrugs. "Nothin' too bad. New ship, not a lot of damage taken. Most of my work over there involves chasin' down systems issues. The initial install got borked by this jack-ass team lead who could find a router with a thousand hardlines runnin' into it. How's things in..where are you? Pilot I assume?" He gestures to the wings until Lunair shows. "Heya. Mark Makinen," the man greets with an easily dipped head.
Ah, enter Lunair! Always a welcome sight, it would appear by the smile that passes over Marko's face. "Hey you." he grins. "They let you out of Marine Country already?" he asks Lunair with a wink. "C'
Ah, enter Lunair! Always a welcome sight, it would appear by the smile that passes over Marko's face. "Hey you." he grins. "They let you out of Marine Country already?" he asks Lunair with a wink. "C'mon and have a seat." he says, patting a chair next to him. "Was just talking to one of the geniuses who got the Cerb back on her feet." he says, nodding towards Mark. "Pilot, me?" he replies, shaking his head. "No, ECO. And we're….above fine." he shrugs a little. "Happy as hell to be away from Tauron, I can tell you that." he sighs. "Looking forward to being able to actually _sleep_ for a few hours for a change." he adds. The Air Wing's been pulling double shifts ever since the attack.
Snipe Officer? Iiiiiinteresting. Lunair peers over and smiles. Seems like a friendly fellow. Her eyebrows quirk. "Raine Lunair-Scaurus. But usually Lunair. less of a mouthful," She smiles politely. "Though, my rank - also a mouthful," She isn't above a joke at her own expense. She smiles at her husband now. "Yeah, they let us out of the cage sometime. We have to go punch things, beat our chest and run around you know." She winks back. "I'd love to. And oh? Thank you, I'm glad we made the jump." She takes a deep breath. "Yes, you need to sleep or I'll squish you," She frowns at Marko. Granted, Marines have pulled SOME overtime but likely not as much as Air Wing or Engineering and Deck.
Mark snorts at the mention of a genius. "You find one of them around here, send them my way. I could use the help. Got about five hundred projects headed at my face courtesy of Chief Damon and Captain Belgoin over on the Areion." He turns one of the papers from the folder up as if to make the point. Looks like equipment schematics to a Raptor if he's fast enough to catch it. "Ah! ECO! My kind of aircrew. The real brains behind the brawn." There's a sure nod at that. "Yeah, I heard you guys have been pullin' some real crap hours. Should be nice! Damon and I put our people on a forty-eight hour stand-down. All non-essential personnel were actually ordered to get sleep then go party in their own ways." There's some measure of pride to be had on his face. Lunair's talk of her name and rank gets another chuckle from him. "Hell, Miss Lunair, how about we concern ourselves just with names. Rank can kiss my bare, pale ass at the moment. Marines, huh? Gunfighter." He makes a gun shape with his hand. Pewpew!
"Heh, that's bullshit and you know it, Mark." Marko hoots softly. "We got one hell of a team around here, especially the deck gang." he adds, with his own note of pride for the folks that keeps his Raptor going. "Engineering's done an amazing job just keeping us together. Speaking of which, any news on Gabrieli?" he asks curiously, sipping at his bug juice. "Hope he makes it. Poor bastard's had almost as many near-death experiences as I have, and he's supposed to be Chief Engineer." he smirks. "And, thank you, it's an interesting job." he adds with a nod. "It's kind of a cross between a hacker, a science officer and an artillery spotter. Keeps you thinking." he grins wolfishly. "And much more talk of squishing from _you_ and I'll….I'll…" he splutters in mock protest to Lunair. "I'll make you carry out that threat." he winks teasingly to his wife. "Looks like everybody's due for a bit of a stand down, Gods know, we could all use it." he sighs.
Lunair is quiet as talk of repairs and planes goes on. She smiles. "Yes, I stole one of the smart ones," She winks. She’s proud of her husband at least. "I wish. I'm more of a paper pusher," She wrinkles her nose. "I'm in charge of Charlie Platoon actually. But they seem to have a fair amount of officers eager to go." She shrugs. She doesn't seem too bothered though. Then she eyes her husband. "Psh. I've got good aim." A little nudge. She cares for him - obviously and both are likely stubborn in their own rights. She quirks her brows and frowns. "I hope he does too. Poor man. Awful what's happened," She shakes her head. "I'm alright enough. Sort of glad and worried. We don't have Five anymore."
Mark just shakes his head. He's really not going to cop to that. "Not much on Gabrieli, I'm afraid. They've got me acting as the DE-facto Chief at the moment, though. We'll see what happens. I'm looking forward to him coming back. I don't think I'm quite capable enough to handle a department in the long term. But a hacker, eh?" Mark's interest? Piqued. He sips at the mug. "Damon mentioned a few projects I might want someone on who is good with the finer points of getting creative with ways in and out. If you got the time, might be interested?" He then nods towards Lunair. "Hey, nothing wrong with that. Spent a lot of years pushing the proverbial paper. Made me a lot of good money. Fat shit ton of good it did me, too. Shoulda made like the smarter man, here across the table, and gotten married or something."
"Heh, well, no offense meant to either of you, but for all my smarts, I still wind up spending many, many hours with my ass sello-taped to a plastic flight suit with sweat, peering at a DRADIS screen." Marko chuckles. "Besides, flip around and if any of us had lived up to whatever potential anyone else thought we had, we'd all be ashes." he says sagely, draining his bug juice. "The married thing, though, that one I recommend." he grins, turning to make shameless goo-goo eyes at Lunair. "As for the rest…eh…I've been known to push bits of code here and there." he shrugs slightly. "But talk about geniuses, you know the hydroponics stuff they've got set up on Elpis?" he asks, gesturing to Lunair. "This lovely woman happens to be the one who spearheaded the project and shepherded all the way through."
Lunair is quiet, listening. "I'm not sure how Engineering is going to be handled. Likely none of my business," She smiles faintly. She tilts her head. "He's a genius. Don't let him fool you," She winks at Marko. "And bah, I'm just a JiG. That's why I handle a lot of filing," She holds up a hand, explaining. "I go out on field missions a lot as well. Just not as much as before when we recovered a lot of Marines." She explains. She smiles at Marko. She blushes faintly. "Tch. He just likes having someone to remind him not to space out too much and forget to eat when he works on something he likes." She shakes her head. She seems to adore him though. "Yeah. Funny story. It started with some bonsai trees and my eternal hatred of fleet peaches."
"I'll be the last to complain. Shit, biggest problem I got is trying to manage people but I'm doing something I frakkin' love. Spent my career wishing I could be involved with the hands-on aspects. I actually did a few years on the Volans fixin' Vipers. Missed it something fierce, lemme tell you." Never mind that he's alive - which is more than most can say. Its more or less alluded to, though, with his inflection. "Well you want to get interested, let me know. Always good to have people to work with. Especially if this lady with you is to be believed." He tips her mug towards her with a smile. "So you decided to kick that over, eh? Tell you one thing, I never expected to see fresh peppers again. I used to have a slammin' Bloody Mary recipe that called for you to dip green peppers in it and munch on them while you drank it. I ever get the stones and ingredients to make an attempt at it again, you get first crack."
"Heh, consider me interested, then." Marko replies, tipping his mug towards Mark in reply. "Mind you, I've do have a few dozen other irons in different fires, so speed may not be my strong suit." he cautions. "But, yeah, I'm intrigued." he smiles. "Heh, don't let her kid you, she was growing bonsai fruit trees from the day she set foot on this ship." he says, giving his wife a warm, one-armed hug. "How she figured out how to do it, I have no idea."
"Management is the fine art of herding cats with weapons," Lunair smiles a little. Her violet eyes reflect a warm happiness. "Oh? It is satisfying to get things done personally, to be truthful," She admits. She's quietly listening though and nods. She smiles and looks to her husband. "Yes, he's busy. So I look out for him sometimes." A Marine-ly sort of adoration. "Not many on board can really do what you do though," She notes. "And pfah. I had lots of help and support," She nods. She returns his one armed hug. "Especially when I was too injured to tend to things. Marko would tend to them, alongside many volunteers. And now it belongs to the civilians. I wasn't really asked about that part, but - it's given a lot of people things to do. So I'm happy. And oh?" Her brows quirk. She smiles. "That sounds fantastic. I have no doubt they're working on some ways to get grapes or something that can be distilled going." She seems amused. "It's not too hard, once you get the lights and set up going."
"I'm capable of returning favors, man. You help me out, slide something my way you need a fresh eye on. Or if you can't find someone else, I've got a diverse education. But I'll let you know. Gods. Damon was talkin about reverse engineering Cylon tech, something about a missile system, uhhhh . . Viper upgrades and some kind of ECM upgrades, too." Mark makes a face and sips at his mug. "Coulda done that from Praetorian months ago but Laughlin is a pain in the ass. Never let's me have fun. Guy wouldn't know a good time if it was-" He stops. "I'm not going to finish that, but suffice to say he's boring. Anyhow, anything there sound good?" He's still fiddling with the paper in his hand too. To Lunair: "Keeping people busy is job one. At least you aren't frothing in the corner that someone stole your precious project. Good to see someone upbeat about it. Though if they get wine made I could see that definitely being a good thing. Booze good."
"Sounds good." Marko replies, nodding once more. "I've heard of the same projects." he adds. "Be interesting to see where everyone's planning to take them." he says, swirling the slush at the bottom of his mug around thoughtfully. "Heh, we'll need more after the Snipes get through, by the look of it." he smirks, gesturing over his shoulder at the noisy revelers behind them all. "I bet every still on this frakkin' ship's tapped out about now." he chuckles. To Lunair: Another hug and a brush of his lips across her cheek. "You gotta stop selling yourself so short, babe." he says seriously. "When all hell was breaking loose and everyone was freaking out, you were the only one that had the sense to realize that our situation was _real_ and do something to make it better in a tangible, edible way. That makes you awesome beyond words."
Lunair goes quiet at the talk of tech. She does look amused. "Oh. I was sad. Still am in some way," She admits. "It was a thing I am proud of, and I enjoyed running it. Though, I still tend the medicinal garden on board. Be a sad sick bay with no morpha." Something … about that makes her sad for a moment and she has to look away. There's a deep breath. She looks back over and smiles. She leans into the hug and closes an eye. "Or it means I'm a closet case." She sticks her tongue out at him. "Who really likes a good bottle of wine and some fruits." She teases lightly. "I think I went numb instead of panicking. Funny how that works. But I think we can manage grapes if we find good stock at least."
Mark nods. "Yeah. Not sure why they've all stalled out. Everything I heard on the P was that this crew was pretty good about stuff. Then again, I haven't even been shown any details so I -probably- shouldn't be saying too much in that direction." He screws up a grin and sips at the coffee, draining the rest of the mug. "You drink that still shit? Barf." Mark laughs with the last word. "I'll keep pullin' mine from supply, thanks." He kicks his feet off the table and settles his papers back into the folder. He just watches Lunair with an ease about him like the man enjoys watching two people enjoy each other.
"Heh, probably something to do with us being busier than one armed paper-hangers." Marko chuckles. "Hard to work on long-term projects when you gotta devote ever resource to crash stuff, as you should know." he points out with a little shrug. "But, we are continuing, or so I've heard. Between the two ships' resources, we oughta make a go of at least one of them. "Wait…." he adds as Mark drains his cup. "You've still got coffee in your stores?" he asks, his tone barely above a whisper. "Do you have any idea the kind of currency that could get you on the left-hand market?" he grins. Lunair's comments elicits another one-armed hug and a chuckle. "See what I mean?" he asks with a teasing grin. "I've got squishes and morpha for the asking….what else can a man ask for?"
Lunair hms softly. "Coffee beans… that's a good idea. Definitely something to research at least," Lunair admits, tapping her chin. "You might be a hero to those of us pushing papers," She winks at Mark. She seems to be in a decent mood despite circumstances. Still, she's definitely pleased to be around her husband. She gives Marko a one-armed hug in turn and a smile. "He's being nice to me." She teases. "I can be a terrible nag. But I mean well. And we hope to get other medicinal plants going. Like - lighter grade painkillers and antibiotics." A sigh. "But I was told only to work on it off-duty. So perhaps it's for the best I'm a desk lady. I do plenty of sewing too," She shakes her head. "Embroidering… I should start charging huh?"
"Oh yeah, no joke," Mark laughs. "Damon was sayin' that it might be a relief to finally be able to work on something again other than emergency or crisis situations. Can't say I blame you. P has a smaller set of departments all around so we keep pretty busy but it ain't bad. Few things here and there. Missile upgrades, network improvements, fire control streamlining." He shrugs, glancing to the mug with the ECO's question. "Yeah. So does this ship." He lifts the mug. "Been pulling booze and coffee from supply since I got here. Well, less booze due to the Condition Two, but you get the idea. Between cruise stores and what's been raided..?" Mark looks between them. "Why? People tellin' you that you're out of coffee?" he chuckles. "Mean frakkin joke, that is." He settles on Lunair, then. "Oh really? Growin' drugs like smokeables for medical and stuff? Damn, keep that under guard and lock. I used to-" Another stop in his stories. "ANYway. I gotta get my ass down to the Deck. Pickin' up the overnight shift for some Crewman who needs rest. Apparently she's been doing doubles and triples for two weeks. Wanted to thank her personally." He lifts the folders and rises.
"Heh, shit, but that confirms a thing or two I've been thinking." Marko laughs, shaking his head ruefully. "Thing is, whoever's playing the joke's really following through on it. We've got coffee crystals that have been used more than a Picon space dock whore." he sighs. "And people wonder why I drink bug juice.." he chuckles. "Let me know if and when you need me, I'll do my best." he adds. "Good to meet ya, give the aforementioned crewman my best." he nods, smirking knowingly. Because what he just said screams 'hook up in the berthing spaces'. As does the look he gives Lunair afterwards, leaning in to give her another kiss.
"I can imagine," Lunair's sympathetic, to be truthful. "And hah! It's you guys! I knew someone was drinking it all." She teases lightly. "I know what you mean though," She shakes her head. Then nods. "We do. I anticipated such problems," She looks amused. "And that a few people might try to turn the garden into their personal stash. So it's under lock and key. It's nice to have light duty available for Marines who won't sit still." She shrugs. "Or punishment I suppose." She considers. "Oh? That's kind of you. It's good to see an officer look out for their subordinates," She smiles. "Be well then. Take care of yourself and it was a pleasure to meet you." She lifts a hand in a wave. "Ugh. Really?" She winces as Marko describe sthe coffee. She quirks her brows. She returns Marko's cheek kiss and a warm glance. "And you, mister. Take care of yourself too hm? It looks like my break is up and it's been a regular parade in the brigs."
"Godsdamn. Note to self, stay the hell away from the Air Wing hangouts. Frak, if we ran out of coffee I think I'd probably quit life. Screw. That. Shit. You want some decent stuff, swing by Engineering. A Petty Officer actually used his cargo weight for a top-flight machine. One of those awesome ones with the gold cone filters you can just wash out? Mm. Deck Eleven, Frame Twenty Nine, Office Eighteen. Follow the smell." He winks. "Shit, Miss Lunair. I started Enlisted. Spent nearly twenty years as a private contractor having to deal with arrogant, know-it-all officers. Give me a pack of hard-workin grease monkies any day of the week." He grins. "Alright, good meeting you both. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around!" And with that, Mark taps the folder once on the table and heads for the hatch.
"Take care, LT." Marko chuckles. "Hope you're serious about that coffee, 'cause I _will_ follow up on it." he grins. "And _you_." he says, giving a wave to Mark before turning towards Lunair. "Don't tell me you're going as well?"
Lunair looks amused. "Of course, don't drink the air wing coffee. Duly noted." Her expression is amused. "That sounds lovely. I'll have to stop by. And oh?" Her brows quirk. "We're not all bad, I promise." She replies with a smile. "Be well." A wave at the Marko. She nods at her husband. She gives him a little kiss on the cheek. "Yes, but my shift is up in a few hours if you have time?" She offers.
"In a couple of hours, I expect I'll be sleeping." Marko sighs, pouting a little. "But, you know where my rack is, and I would be more than grateful for a little company." he winks suggestively.
"Then I'll come keep you warm and make sure you stay asleep a few hours," Lunair smiles and kisses his cheek. "Promise. I'll find you. Be well, and don't work too hard. Alright?"
"Heh, actually." Marko replies, hugging her again and leaning in to whisper. "I was kind of hoping you'd wake me up." he says, kissing her neck shamelessly. "Then _we_ can sleep for a spell."
Lunair hugs him back. Her eyebrows lift at his whisper and she smiles coyly. She whispers back, "That can be arranged my dear. I promise then." She smiles as he kisses her neck and gently ruffles his hair. She kisses his cheek. "In the meantime, take care of yourself my beloved ECO."
Marko snuggles and grins stupidly. "I will be waiting with baited breath, baby." he all but purrs into Lunair's ear. "You take care of yourself, too." he adds, nuzzling her neck with his nose. "Don't let the frakkers grind ya down."
Lunair can't help but grin and snuggle back, her eyes half-closing. His purr is just too much to resist. "I will," She promises. "It's - just how it is these days," She shakes her head. "We've all got our grindstones." With that, one last cheek smooch and off she goes.