| Plans and Pedestals |
| Summary: | Allie hands over her sim proposal to Captain Laskaris only to wind up leaving him surprised when she departs. |
| Date: | 23 Apr 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | TBA |
| Players: |
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| Pilot Berths |
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| The battlestar's pilots call this place home. Bunks line the walls with grey curtains to cover their sleeping areas. Lockers sit between each pair of bunks and a round metal table sits in the center, furnished with simple but comfortable steel chairs. A hatch at the rear of the room leads to a communal head. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #55 |
Lucky slips in, her ever-present folders, notebooks and pencils to be found with the former two being tucked under an arm and the latter held tightly in her hand. At first there's a apprehensive expression on her face but it isn't long before it ebbs and she can relax, her shoulders eventually slouching slightly when the tension flows from the muscles that run along the tops of them. The stuff is put down on the table and she goes to get changed, her uniform traded swiftly for her off-duties.
Laskaris is apparently receiving another lessons in the vagaries that come with a captaincy. He's sitting up in his rack in a tanktop and sweats, several sheets of paper resting on his knees as he works on another salvo in the infinite war against paperwork. A look is shot towards the hatch as Allie comes in, but it's only a brief interruption; a moment later he's back to reading over reports, a murmured "Lieutenant" being the only indication he's marked her presence.
"So I've been reduced to a rank, huh? Okay…Hello, Captain." Allie slips her tunic into her locker once she's done getting changed and she's yanking her last jar of Aerilon's 'finest' out from where it's been stashed. "Got that proposal for you…" she adds once she's got it uncapped but, instead of drinking from it she offers it to Anton first. "Sorry it took so long but I wanted to be sure to be as thorough as I possibly could be. But, if it's not a good time, I can wait till later," she adds, that being after she notices the Captain's already busy.
Lasher directs a pointed look to Allie at the 'reduced to a rank' comment, and his brows furrow in mild annoyance. "We're not best friends just because you wanted to jump my bones," he notes, tongue-in-cheek. Not meant as a rebuke of the woman, simply a statement of fact. He shakes his head to the offered jar. "Still working." Nevertheless, he does swing his legs over the edge of the bed, putting the papers aside. "Not so busy as it can't wait, though. What've you got?"
Alessandra smiles brightly, Lasher's answer getting the usual smirk to widen some. "Who said that's past-tense, hmm?" The wording has her back-tracking a bit afterwards and she pauses, her brow arching slight. "We're not best friends just because? Does that mean you think of me as being your best friend or…?" Turning around even as that's left to hang, Allie grabs one of the folders and hands it over, the contents within it bearing some surprising heft. Must have a lot in there that isn't simple notes. "Funny thing is that I was working on…uh, it is eerily like what happened to us when we went to blow up that relay the other day. Was thinking we could give the pilots a mock-up of a recon report only to have them go up against something totally unexpected. Either greater numbers or weaponry…"
Lasher's unable to hold in a slightly exasperated eyeroll, and he shakes his head minutely. Her question gets an almost enigmatic response: "Neither." And that's all he seems to want to say on the subject, as he reaches out to accept the weighty folder from her hand. He nods slowly, adding a couple absent "mm-hmm"s to what she's saying as he begins flipping through what's there. For the moment he seems satisfied, though obviously an in-depth review will have to wait. "The old bait-and-switch, eh?" Laskaris snorts. "Aye, that'll be fine. Anything what'll keep 'em on their toes." He looks up at Alessandra. "Was considering running a training mission based on the attack on the relay, actually. Maybe I'll just integrate that with this." A finger taps the folder.
Now it's Allie's turn to roll her eyes, this coupled with a slight sigh. "Were you a sphinx in a past life, sir?" It's left alone, the need to deal with the relaying of her idea to the Captain the more important thing currently. "Interesting how you and I seem to be on the same page," she utters thoughtfully only to speak louder as she crouches next to Lasher's bunk. "I tried to write up some numbers but then got to thinking. If this is meant to train us as a squadron as a whole then you and I probably shouldn't know what we're up against, either. Perhaps programming the simulation to insert random enemies would be a good idea."
Lasher gives a thin smile. "That's between me and the gods, isn't it?" It's back to business a moment later, though, as his eyes fall back down to the open folder in front of him. Then, back to Alessandra herself. "Perhaps. I'll likely be running the simulation, I think. I'll be more'n happy to keep the rest of you lot in the dark, though." A smirk from the Viper captain before he goes back to thumbing through Allie's notes. "We'll see how it goes. If I do fly, I'll try not to ruin any surprises." Again, spoken in a deadpan.
Alessandra's notes are a lot of attempts at writing out maps and stuff but there's something that might stand out, two phrases that have been written more than once on the various leafs of paper that is being looked through. One is 'got to think on your feet' and the other being 'everyone has to come home'. It's like she was reminding herself of what's important over and over again. When the gods are mentioned Allie looks at Laskaris and nods but that's it. Nothing said or given in physical reply. When she does speak it's on the subject of the simulation. "Sounds like a plan to me, Lasher. Is there anything else you'll need me to do to prepare us for the exercise?"
The folder is closed and placed aside, and Lasher pulls a cigarette from the pack lying on his rack's shelf and lights it. He gives a quick shake of the head. "No, this is all I need for now," he says, as he pulls up his legs and goes back to reclining on his bed. "Shouldn't be, but if there is… I'll let you know."
Alessandra nods slowly as she uncurls herself from the crouch she assumed while watching the Captain intently, her eyes not once leaving his face. "I'll let you get back to work, Anton. I'm going to take this…" The jar is shaken as an indication of what 'this' is. "…to the Obs Deck and try to relax. If you'd like to, please feel to join me after your work's done." That's it. The offer's made and left to be taken up or dismissed as the Squadron Leader wishes.
Lasher stays laying on his bunk, making no immediate move to pick up Allie's folder or the work he was working on initially. He just lays there for a bit, his eyes opening and closing slowly as he takes a languid drag from his cigarette. "P'raps," is all he'll promise to her proposal. "Enjoy yourself."
Lucky was about to step off and exit the berthings but something hits and she turns to look intensely at the man. "You know, I kind of put you on a pedestal but…well, seems like you got yourself on one that's much higher than I could ever erect for you. So…yeah. Hey. Don't forget to come down and hang out with us mortals from time to time, eh?" A shoulder's lazily rolled in a shrug as she takes to motion, the hatch being Allie's destination.
Lasher looks almost startled at that, and his head lolls over to regard Allie as she makes for the hatch. There's an expression of… well, something on his angular features as she turns away. His lips draw tight, but he says nothing, taking a drag and allowing the woman to leave in silence.