PHD #213: Triad Face
Triad Face
Summary: Some of the Cerberus personnel hang out. Bets are made. Stories are told. People have their fun.
Date: 27 Sep 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Alessandra Argento Astra Cidra Leyla Lysander Marko Rian Sofia 
Recreation Room - Deck 9 - Battlestar Cerberus
This huge room spans quite a lot of floor space, the support beams crisscrossing at even points throughout the room. The two sides are divided fairly between the Enlisted and Officers with an unseen line more or less running down the center of the room. A couple pool and card tables sit in no-man's land with a series of regular mess tables at the rear of the room, nearest a counter full of minor refreshments like coffee and bags of chips. Magazines and reading material are spread out over the couched seating areas and a few televisions are set-up with a couple of video game systems made available.
Post-Holocaust Day: #213

The rec-room is a dose of heaven in all of these trying times. People can come and go as they please and relax as they are wont to do. Sergeant Lysander has placed himself at one of the card tables ostensibly within the enlisted area of influence of the expansive room and he contends with other off-duty members of his squad in a game of cards. "All right, my ladies and gents, I'll raise you two cubits," he sets the coins forward and then glances aside to the next person up. There are still a couple of chairs free at this table of wagers and in the background there's the general fanfare of people of the Cerberus enjoying their selves this evening.

Cidra is coming rather than going at the moment. Dressed down in her off-duties, so she's absent any sign of rank, tattoos on display on her bare arms. Her first stop is over by the magazines, which she eyes speculatively. All are well over six months old by now. The Cylons stopped shipments of new editions. With a soft snort she picks up one devoted to Virgon theater review. Head turning to idly eye the card game.

Hmm. "Well, if I factor in possible intoxication or medicinal herb use…" She grunts, scratching on a pad of paper with a well loved mechanical pencil. Sofia is deep in thought. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Then she pauses, passing the magazines and - hey, a Cidra. "Hello sir," She smiles warmly, perhaps growing used to or fond of the Officer. "How are you?" She looks over to the card game. Ooo.

The hands come and go and the Sergeant ends up losing money but he's still in the game for the long haul and lingers unlike another who takes to departing. Lysander watches after them and then reaches forward to collect the cards from the assortment of bags of food, drinks, and otherwise so that he can shuffle things. While he does that and in the middle of a conversation, he notes the ones looking in the table's direction and he sits back. It's not like he knows them specifically or anything but if they're looking then he's holding out his left hand and gesturing to the empty chairs. He then confidently grins, as if to seal the deal of the offer.

"Wolfe." The faintest hint of a smile crosses Cidra's lips as she turns to greet the snipe. There might be a hint of warmth there for her part, as well. It's always tough to tell with Cidra Hahn. Her preferred expression is inscrutable. "Did you say something of medicinal herbs?" She's intrigued. As to the card game she adds, "There do appear to be some seats remaining if you do care to join." Not that she moves to herself. Though she does incline her head in return to Lysander when he holds out his hand. And looks ever-so-faintly tempted.

Oh dear. Sofia blinks at the open hand and chairs. She smiles back over at Cidra. And she simply, for her part, accepts the mystery. It's just a part of her. She pauses, "Well. I got some numbers. I'm still working on interviews with folks who have claimed to run into our spirit. I want to understand him or her," She offers. "So I started with numbers. Where, when and who." She beams. "It seemed the politest way to start." A glance between Lysander and Cidra. "I guess a little talk or cards couldn't hurt…"

Lysander glances aside to the others near to him and then over his shoulder before leaning forward. By now, the grin has melted down into an amused half-smile while his attention shifts back in the direction of the pair looking his way. "What could it hurt?" He calls that out to Cidra and Sofia before holding his hands up in an innocent gesture and light incline of his head. He'll keep on baiting them until they take. Who could not trust a face like his? "C'mon," is added in good jest.

"If you do not mind. I have not played in some time," Cidra says. Almost shyly. Though she sets down her magazine readily enough and strides over to join the table. "What is the game? Straight Triad or something other?"

Oh dear. Sofia shrugs and smiles. "Dunno, I lost my best Earl Grey to Miss tisiphone," She notes wryly. "Though technically I'm not allowed to have that anyway," A shrug. No loss. She folds up her little chart and paper and sits near Cidra, tilting her head. She nods. "It's Lysander, right?"

Lysander rolls the hexagonal shaped cards within his palms as the ladies join him and the others at the table, but the Sergeant takes up the foreground compared to stock NPCs. He's no card shark though so there aren't any fancy tricks to his constant shuffling. A look is given to the left and then right. "Just a couple of rounds of Triad, if you don't mind, none of the folksy stuff this night," he looks to the right and then left in verifying everyone lingering still interested in playing. "That it is," he smirks to Sofia and pauses dishing things out, glancing in Cidra's direction with that lingering self-assured look of his, "Do we want full introductions before or after? I'm willin' to be polite about things."

"I do not mind at all. Straight is the only proper way to play it," Cidra says as she settles in at the table. Setting her elbows on it in a comfortable slouch. The faintest of smiles at Lysander. "Manners always. I am Cidra Hahn." It's left at that while Sofia gives her own name.

"Fair enough," Sofia nods. Straight Triad seems fine by her. She looks to the others then to Lysander. "I'm Sofia Wolfe," Nod. She settles in, watching for a moment. "Are you betting anything?" Headtilt. "I think I came in at the middle of things."

"I can respect a decision like that," and then Lysander is hit with the sudden realization that he's playing with a top-of-the-food-chain officer. He needs to stop being so new around the Cerberus. It keeps leading him to run into officers at the most inopportune of times. The man knits his brows briefly and looks from Cidra to Sofia almost-questioningly, almost: "Garret Lysander," is said in turn, and he gives the other two of his squad a chance at introductions too. It's the polite thing to do and that leaves the five of them at one of the card tables hashing out a game of Triad while the rest of the recreation room froths with its usual of activity. Lysander rolls out his right shoulder and looks around the table for a quick moment. "We have cubits, alcohol, porn, cigs, or anything else worth a salt. We ain't too picky it seems."

Cidra offers Lysander the barest hint of a smile. It's half sly, half sheepish. She's been found out. "Cigarettes I can wager. They are worth a good deal more than cubits in these current times." She fishes into her pockets, plucking out a pack of cigs. Cheap Picon-brand stuff, smoked the Navy over. "Lysander? I do not believe I can recall the name, and I did think I had a better head for the names and faces aboard by this time."

Sofia smiles a little. "Ummmm. I think I've got cigarettes I was keeping to trade for candy," A shrug. Oh well. She'll pull out a pack. "Um. He's new. We grabbed him from Sagittaron," She explains to Cidra. "Don't feel too bad. I forget things too," She admits.

Argento walks into the rec room looking for a game of triad, finds a table with a couple familiar faces. Standing near the table, he asks, "Mind if I join you? All I have is a few cigs." He pulls them out of his pockets and holds them in his fingers.

Lysander idly begins to reshuffle the cards out of patient habit, cycling through them with a passive glance down at the starburst-plastered backsides of them as they flow through his fingertips. "Plucked from Hades full of insurgents and toasters, was a lovely frakkin' time," he weakly grins at that in adding to Sofia's answer. The grin's enough to make it appear over his mouth without reaching his gaze. "Sir," is added as an afterthought and then he looks up to the arrival of Argento, "Hey Tony, sure." He gestures to an open seat before reaching into a pocket to pull out his own pack of cigarettes and lay them on the table. With that done, he begins to deal out the cards.

"Sagittaron. Ah." Cidra gives Lysander a second look, but it's still free of any sign of what she's thinking. "You were among the Marines we recovered, then? I say a belated welcome aboard. These last months have been trying enough. I can only imagine what it was like down upon that planet after the Cylons attacked." It's not a topic of conversation she presses for any further, certainly. A look up at Argento, and inclination of her head to him. "Hello."

Sofia nods. "Yeah… I met them and Mr. Ajax. They seem pretty nice," She admits. "Even if the big dude can step on me," A faintly worried look. "Hi Tony, how are you?" She asks politely. She peers at him. She takes any cards passed her way then. "How're you, Tony?" A peer over.

"Great," says Argento with a smile, and takes the empty seat. "Major," he acknowledges Cidra with a nod, and introduces himself to the CAG. "Tony Argento. Nice to meet you." He also greets Sofia with a friendly nod. "Good to see you, Sofia. I'm doing well, thanks. Wouldn't have figured you for a card player. We should do this more often." He keeps his hands over his face-down cards until Lysander is finished dealing.

Lysander holds his cards at an angle and raises his right eyebrow hesitantly and then looks up to Cidra in turn as she speaks up. The corners of his mouth tighten but he doesn't readily speak up. He can have a poker face if he wants, too. "Thank you, sir. I like it so far." He doesn't push this particular leg of the conversation more than necessary either, respectfully so for once, and then angles his attention towards Sofia and then Tony. He gives another look at his cards and then matches Argento's bet.

"Call me Toast if you like," Cidra offers all around. "We are off duty, after all, and it is not so formal. But still proper. It is my call sign." She eyes her cards. Her perma-Triad face is actually somewhat appropriate now. Satisfied with them, apparently, she remains in this game. Calling inscrutably. "You are in Weps, yes?" The last question to Argento. Recognition not immediate, but more present than it was for Lysander.

Sofia is holding her cards to peer at them. She squints. She has the worst Triad face, peering, headtilting and furrowing her brows at her cards. She shakes her head, frowns and puts one down. She'll stay in it seems, regardless of hand and smiles a little at the conversation. "I'm honestly not, I lost pretty badly to the CO and everyone, but it was fun and people seemed happy," She smiles. "So that's okay by me too," A shruug. "I think I'd do better if it were singing or something," Sofia considers, and falls quiet in thought. Hmm.

Argento is all about the triad face as he places his bet, but does show surprise that Cidra knows that he's in weps. "That's right," he confirms to Cidra. He smiles at Sofia as Lysander deals out everyone's draw. "You're a singer?" he asks curiously. "What do you sing?" He tosses out his next bet as if paying the game no mind whatsoever.

"So what's with a call sign like Toast? I'm going to take a guess at you not actually being fanatical about the stuff." It's genuine curiosity from the likes of Lysander, since he never touches birds and buses to begin with. He's a marine. He checks his cards over once again and then fancies himself taking a moment to think. That momentary pause comes to an end to which he discards a single card and draws anew. He looks to Sofia with a small laugh, asking, "Caprican Opera?"

Cidra does not care for that new card she procured, apparently. As she promptly folds her hand. "Colonel Pewter plays dirty," she notes as a wry aside to Sofia. "I sat in on one of his games as well. I did…well, the cards were as with me that night as they were just now." At Lysander question, he is offered a smile. An inscrutable smile. "A call sign, for a pilot, like earning a second name. They are practical. Three syllables or less, used to identify one on wireless traffic. Quicker and more distinctive than a name. They are earned, not chosen. Usually by acts that are extremely…notable. Or stupid. Why would you guess one would call me Toast?" Blue eyes spark with a hint of wry mischief as she asks.

Sofia giggles. "Yeah, he's really good at it, but it's ok. It's like playing cards with grandpa or something. You know he's clever as all out, but you play anyway," Sofia shrugs and smiles. She does seem curious about Cidra's call name. "Huh?" A peer at Argento. "Oh no, mom'd put my head on a stick. We did mostly Aquarian stuff. I guess that explains how loopy I am huh? What's the word? Moody?" A bemused look.

Argento grins at the exchange between Cidra and Lysander. He's always curious where pilots get their callsigns, but never asks them directly. Always figured it was a pilot thing that wasn't his business. "You don't seem loopy to me," he says to Sofia. "Though I did just meet you." His eyes drop down to Lysander's cards as everyone shows their hand. Argento is expressionless as he loses a quarter of his pot, just like that.

The good Sergeant looks around with all of the bets, discarding and drawing, and then begins to build his Triad while the pair of conversations continues to unfold. He knits his brows for a moment. He'll have to play with the Head Honcho one day. For now, he listens. In the middle of revealing his cards and coming out on top of it all, at least just this first hand, he looks to Cidra with the beginnings of a smirk. "Toast sounds… well, I still say you don't like bread," he trails off for a moment, debating, while dealing out a new hand to the players. "How about," he pauses with a short beat and looks to his new hand, "I win this next hand, you tell me?"

"I have a generally good opinion of bread and products made from the warming of it," Cidra replies. "But…that is not how I acquired it. Do you mind if I smoke?" She picks up one of the cigarettes she's using to bet. Just one. Holding it between her long fingers. Another of those bare hints of a smile at Lysander. "That is a very forward bet. But. Fair enough. I always pay my debts. What story shall you regale us with if *I* win, Sergeant Lysander?"

Sofia's eyes widen a bit. "Aw. Oh well, hey, you can still come back. There's more hands," She gently nudges Argento with a smile. "And that's very kind of you to say. Thank you," She nods. She considers her cards and her expression falls a little. D'oh. Eh! Hmmm. She taps her chin, looking almost comically thoughtful for a moment. "Ooh. That sounds like a dangerous bet. Bread is pretty awesome. And I don't," She shakes her head. "It's not my thing, but I don't feel it's my place to tell people not to."

Argento winks at Sofia. "I'll come back. No, I don't mind if you smoke, Major. I'd light one up too, but I need all the cigarettes I have to get back in the game. Interesting," he remarks, looking to Lysander for his response to Cidra's challenge. "A side bet."

Lysander glances sidelong towards Argento, having expected a bet from the other man. He looks back down to his cards and a thoughtful sound stirs from the depths of his throat. His attention floats back to the Major and he gives an initial shake of his head. "Not from me, at least," he doesn't mind. To Cidra's counter though, he offers a short-lived shrug of his shoulders. "I'm not nearly as interesting. I could give you exclusive rights on giving me a callsign, but I'm not Air Wing. I've got a book of wonderful poetry no one has seen before. Collector's Item. I could ante that up too."

Cidra eyes her cards. Inscrutably. But she stays in this hand, and even raises. If on a miniscule level. "Oh, I highly doubt that, Sergeant. We all of us have stories to tell. Not all of them give us names that we wear openly, but we have them." Brows arch at that last, though. He has piqued her interest. "Poetry?"

Poor Sofia. If her face is any indication, she's not doing well. "Thank the Lords I've the sense not to make a living on this," Eh heh. She blushes. Then a cigarette is fished from a pocket. "Here. I trade mine to this lady in Deck for candy all the time. It's great," She seems pleased. She grins. Then her eyes go wide as saucers as she puts her hand down. "Oh wow. That's kinda special…"

Argento takes his card and folds. "A singer and a poet. You two should write a song together. We need more music around here. Speaking of which, is there a radio or something we can switch on?"

Lysander looks aside again to the others and slowly leans back in his chair, far more confident than about two seconds previously. This is one of the more intense games, truth be told. He blames Cidra. He also replies in turn to her with a light smile and nod of his head. "I can't argue there, but I doubt it's as interesting, which," he gives another nod as he places forward another bet before building his Triad. He holds up his cards. His smile sharpens out of pure, unadulterated daring, "Leaves me to offer my poetry. So, fancy yourself a wager, Cidra?" They're off-duty, after all. He turns to Argento for a moment and then looks around. "Should be one somewhere… around here."

"Do you read Kataris?" Cidra asks Lysander. "I am not usually much on the Caprican poets, but his verse has always spoken most deep to me. Of course, he drew much of his inspiration from Scripture, so he was read more widely on Gemenon than many of the Outside poets." She grimaces as she lays her cards down. Taking a quick drag off her cigarette. "It does appear I do owe you a story, do I not? Very well, then. Toast, it is. Do not spread this around, mind. This is not a…thing I tell widely."

Sofia listens to the talk about poetry. "I'll have to see those," She admits. She looks to Argento and offers the spare ciggie. "I'd be shocked if there wasn't," She considers. She looks to Cidra. "I promise," She nods. "Besides, it's part of the CAG Mystique. Sort of like a big hat or a cloak." Ponder. She totally wants a big hat. She smiles. "I'm losing kinda badly, but … I'm glad I came out."

Rian enters the Rec Room in off duty sweats and t-shirt, a hoodie covering her arms and shoulders is zipped up half way and as she walks her hands are shoved within the large pockets. For a moment she pauses, dark eyes glancing over the busy room and quickly coming to the card table. A few strides and she's over standing next to Argento, her features looking pale and tired upon closer inspection. "A card game and no one invited me?" She coos out, looking to each person at the table in turn, "may I join in?"

Argento smiles as Sofia offers him a cigarette. "Really?" he asks, appreciating the random gesture of kindness. He takes the cigarette and spins it with his fingers. "Thanks. And I'm glad you came out too." Glancing over his shoulder, he sees Rian. "Have a seat," he says, and pulls out a chair for her. Then he looks to Cidra with interest. An insider callsign story. "Our lips are sealed, Toast," he assures her.

Lysander could very well lie right about now but he doesn't and so gives a small shake of his head. Still, he listens to Cidra. He lays down his cards in turn and reveals himself the winner of the hand once again. Delicately does he pluck up the cigarettes that had been used for the various wagers and settles them closer; "Yes, sir," is murmured with his usual of grins and he sits back. He looks up at the arrival of Rian and nods while sitting back up. "Bets are cigs, Rian, and you better not have raided my locker again for any."

Cidra looks up to Rian and offers her a polite inclination of her head. "Room for more, I do think. You are just in time to hear me settle up from the last hand." She's delaying a bit, taking a long drag on her cigarette before she launches into the tale. "In any case. I received my call sign when I was just finishing flight training. As I did say, I am native of Gemenon. Not many from my colony join the Fleet. I felt…out of place. I did want to…show the other cadets I could relax, I suppose." As difficult as that might even be to picture now. The major doesn't exactly exude casual. She eyes her cards, then the table at large and asks, "Are you all familiar with chamalla?"

"Yeah, totally," Sofia even scoots over to make room for Rian. "Wait, did I meet you? Oh no, stupid brain." She nods and smiles at Argento. "Remember I don't smoke, I just trade them." She shrugs. "Pinky promise even." Sofia settles to listen then. "Kinda. I've heard about it…"

Rian takes the seat offered by Tony, looking around to Sofia and Cidra with a nod and a half smile though she seems to leave the introductions alone for now. Digging around in her pocket she just so happens to have a crumpled packages of cigarettes and a lighter and tosses them on the table before her. "No," she eyes Lysander through a narrowed glance, "I just so happened to earn these on my own. Besides, your locker is only a free for all when you leave it open." Her tone implies a not so subtle 'duh'. Picking up her cards that are dealt to her she fans them out before her, hrmming to herself with a frown. Though as Cidra speaks about chamalla brown eyes dart to hers, "Yeah, why? You have any?" Then turning her shoulders to Sofia she offers her hand out for a shake, though she does wipe her palm on her sweats, just in case, first. "No, I'm Rian, CMC. Good to meet you both."

Argento is up from his seat for a minute, looking around for a radio to switch on as Cidra is preparing to begin her story. He rotates the dial left and right until he finds a station that's broadcasting electronic dance music, the kind of music you might have heard in the V-World clubs in the old days. He finds his seat again as Cidra begins her story, idly spinning his cigarette without a light. He smiles at Sofia. "If you trade them, then they're worth something to you, so thanks. Toast, can I bum a light?"

Sergeant Lysander blinks away his initially bemused look in trying to picture Cdira as anything near relaxed, and then he makes a motion in calling rather than placing a bet. He's quiet for a while. "My aunt used it to treat some things with it," but he doesn't go into detail and he trails off uncharacteristically rather than be frank about it. His gaze shifts in Rian's direction and he offers a weak grin before inhaling and clearing his throat. He puts his attention back to the conversation. The music as a backdrop helps.

Cidra wordlessly passes Argento her lighter. Eyeing him when he flips on the music. Well, she lost. She'll pay up. "It is a…weed. Commonly used in certain religious ceremonies, and it has some medicinal properties. And some like to take it…recreationally. On occasion." Another puff of her ordinary tobacco is taken. "Anyhow. I happened to have some and invited some of my fellow cadets to…partake. We scouted out a storage shed and…partook. Was quite nice, really. Though one of those I was smoking with had the stupidity to forget to put out his joint properly. Threw it into a trashcan. It…prompted a small fire." She clears her throat. "We were giggling when the damage control teams came upon us. It seemed amusing at the time."

Sofia listens, considering that.. She smiles at Rian. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Sofia Wolfe, 3m. Engineer. Crewman, so don't sweat it." She grins and accepts the hand. She listens respectfully to Cidra's story. Her eyes go wide. She gasps. "I guess they kinda are. Though, honestly, mostly for the candy," This to Argento with a nod. "I'm kind of boring by comparison," She considers this, admitting. "Wow. I couldn't really imagine you that way, sir," Sofia admits. "You're really … inscrutable but wise," She taps her chin. "Like, the deepest river runs the most quietly and repels the most tourists."

Rian leans back in her chair, tossing two cards in the discard pile. While the others are talking she taps a cigarette out of the crumpled pack before her and places it between her lips. As the Sarge grins at her she grins back, though hers is a sour mock of a grin. Taking her lighter she cups the smoke purely out of habit from lighting them on the surface and flicks her bick. A deep breath in and an exhale of grey smoke her shoulders slump as she relaxes into the chair, "that is quite the story," she speaks in regards to Cidra, "starting a fire is fun at the worst of times."

Argento accepts the lighter and fires up his cig. He hands it back to Cidra and exhales smoke over the table, head bobbing to the music. "Sounds like good times," he comments when Cidra finishes her story. "I owe you some candy, Sofia. After I win my cigarettes back from Lysander." He draws a card and plays the hand.

Lysander looks down at his hand in the middle of the story and then looks to those gathered at the table. He gives off a slow and measured exhale. "Well, frak," is commented upon with regards to the story but his smile returns. "Nice one, Toast," he fondly speaks up and then gives a shake of his head toward Argento.

Cidra does a somewhat theatrical 'puff-puff' on her cigarette. Smirking in a rueful sort of way. "I was…quite young. Anyhow, when my instructor retrieved me from the brig, he named me Toast. And thus I have been ever since. I wear it proudly, actually. I look upon it as an object lesson." She levels a gaze around the table. "Just do not spread it around, yes?"

Sofia watches Cidra, looking thoughtful. "Well, I'm just imagining…" She admits with a smile. "But you have my promise or else you can come throw shoes at me I guess," She tilts her head. She looks to Lysander and Rian then Argento. "Don't sweat it too much, it doesn't bug me." She shrugs. "I am sure I don't really need more candy." Grin. She nods at Rian. "Where are you from?" She asks quietly, curious.

"Frak," Rian curses as she tosses down her hand to the table, "just my luck these days." Shrugging it off she takes the new hand, fanning it out and looking to her opponents over the top of them. "Good story, good nickname," Rian nods as she speaks, "I never got one after all these years in the CMC, unless you could call 'Bitch' one." She chuckles at her own joke and takes another drag of her cig, looking to her hand she arranges the cards replying to Sofia, "here!" she replies cooly, "Oh you mean before? Born on Tauron though I served most of my days on Sagittaron. So what else is on the gossip com around the ship, I mean.. besides Tony being gay?"

Argento grins at Cidra. "'Course not, Major. You trusted us with your story, and it doesn't leave this room." He notes Lysander responding non-verbally to his challenge, and when the cards fall in his favor, he flashes a brief glance and a smirk in Lysander's direction before his triad face goes up again and he deals the next hand. He glances at Rian, curious. "Really? People say that?"

"You've my word, Cidra," with regards to rumor-mongering or not, to which he won't. Lysander even gives a respectful tip of his chin before glancing to the others. He checks out their Triad-faces compared to his new hand and then places a nice bet forward. For now, he'll be pretty quiet about things since he's already mentioned a lack of his own nicknames or callsigns.

"I have been called that one a time or two myself. Albeit not over the wireless yet," Cidra says ruefully to Rian. "But as I was saying, a callsign is at its base a utilitarian thing. Clarifies and speeds wireless communication out in space." Argento's preferences, whatever they may be, are not commented upon or even reacted to. She eyes her cards, then puts some more cigs into the pot. A small nod to Lysander. "Say what you will of me, Sergeant Lysander, I do settle my debts."

Blink. She smiles at Rian, "Don't feel bad. I've been dead last each hand. You'd think I'd give up, but it's more fun this way. And I dunno, I'd be afraid of mine. 'Oops' or 'Dammit, not YOU' or - um," She cares not to mention the nicknames Rejn has given her. She blinks, turning red. "Sorry…" She looks abashed. "Tauron," She echoes and files it away. "I see." She furrows her brows. She blinks again, nodding at Cidra. The group is sitting at a table, playing Triad. There's a few NPCs about as well. "If you were still interested, by the way, the Head on Deck 4 is still haunted but… I have some information." She goes quiet for introductions.

Argento half grins back at Rian. "Didn't realize I had an expression. Guess my triad face needs more work than I thought." He's folded this hand, and is now studying Lysander, the first player in this game to make the maximum bet before the draw.

"I am Toast, as I did say," Cidra replies to Rian. "Or Cidra Hahn. As we are off duty, there is little need for formality." She's seated at a table across the sort of unspoken 'enlisted' side of the dividing line. Engaged in a game of Triad with the others. Eyeing her cards inscrutably. Though eyes lift with some interest to Sofia at the snipe's words. "Yes. I have been most curious upon that myself. Have you found anything import, Wolfe?"

Lysander quietly chuckles at the thought of Rian and Hahn being so similar as to be both labeled a 'bitch', and thus amused he looks to the amount of cigarettes being anted up before glancing down at his cards. He shifts his weight within his chair and looks from Tony to Rian, lifting his brows curiously, while replying to Cidra. "You're a blast to have around, but if I've got the option of Cidra or Toast, then you get Garret," says he in response. He sets forward a set of cigarettes from his growing cache. Though with places being potentially haunted, his attention shifts in Sofia's direction for the details on that.

Marko meanders into the rec room and makes a bee line for the bug juice dispenser. Only after he's filled himself a mug, drank half of it, and refilled it does he turn to survey the triad game in progress. "Well, that's one way to blow through your hard-earned cash."

Argento silently observes as Lysander draws three. Large draw for such a high bet. Electronic music is playing from a radio in the room, and he's sitting back relaxing for a hand as the rest of the table goes through another round of bets. Marko's comment catches an idle glance from Argento, who then returns to the card game and his cigarette.

Leyla comes in, not quite along side her wingman, but fairly close, though she foregoes the battery acid Marko selects and ops for a coffee instead. And not just galley coffee, oh no, there's actually some of the good stuff in there. But she's a caring, sharing wingman, and she pops a strip of jerky out of a pocket and offers it to the taller man. "Or cigarettes."

"A little," Sofia admits. "I decided to find out who, when and where first. That might tell me a possible motive for the spirit or some way I can help it," She nods. "It happened to me personally," She taps her chin. "It seems that it visits male and female users evenly, as well as even visits regardless of age," She explains. "It varies on /where/, with more near the hatches, some near the sinks and less in the showers. It's seeming like more happen in the morning than lights out. I think I'm going to try interviewing a few people, but - that seems rude," Sofia admits with a blush. She smiles and waves at Marko. She pauses at Rian. "You don't seem like a Bitch. Maybe forceful…" But not so much the B-word. She waves to Leyla too, in passing. Eyebrows furrow at her hand.

It's cigarettes that Cidra's currently betting. And losing more than she's winning, generally, though she doesn't seem overly put out by the run of luck she's having at the game. She's quite relaxed, in fact. "Garret, then," she says to Lysander in kind. Though the main of her attention remains on Sofia. "I would not look for corporeal motives such as base attraction, if those are spirits, Wolfe. Ghosts, to use the layman's term, do not live by the same rules as we mortals." She talks of things like spirits as if the existence of such were quite a level-headed idea. Following Sofia's wave, her eyes go up to the others in the Rec Room. Spotting Leyla and Marko. "Flasher. Sweet Pea. How does the eve find you?" Before getting an answer, she lays her cards on the table. "Ah." This hand finds her /slightly/ the better.

Lysander switches his allotment of cards solely into his right hand while his left is turned into a short fist and used to cover his mouth with a thoughtful squint. Beyond that, he doesn't reveal what he is thinking of and lowers the hand in order to make another bet when it is his turn. "She can be bitchy when she wants to be, trust me," and that's with just recently serving in the same platoon. He grins to no one in particular beyond everyone gathered and then lays his hand out, only to lose. "Frak it." He goes back to listening.

Rian, the tall dark haired marine sits in the metal chair next to Argento leaning forward on her elbows and seeming lost in thought behind the fan of cards. Continuing with play she pays little attention to the ghost talk, not her head, not her problem. "Well met Cidra, I'm happy we have to much in common." Then turning to sofia she laughs breathlessly, "Forceful huh? What have I done in the last fifteen minutes makes me forceful?" Dark eyes glance to Lysander and narrow slightly, "besides Sofia, you've never seen me on duty with my squad."

"Oh, thanks." Marko smiles, taking the proffered treat and nibbling at it. "Heya, Toast. Not bad. Just got back offa CAP." he replies, pausing to yawn widely. "Looks like you're doin' pretty good." he comments as Cidra collects her winnings.

With coffee in one gloved hand, and jerky in the other, Leyla's attention also drifts over towards the table, and, well, pretty much everyone she doesn't know there. At all. Marines, need she say more? "Well, thank you." There's a slight, well, almost a wrinkle to her nose at the game being played out at the table, before she settles in against an empty wall counter close to Marko, "No sleeping, we still have sims to go over."

To everyone looking over and greeting other folk, Lysander glances to the side and offers the pair of pilots a smile. He sits back and gestures to the table. "More than welcome to join us, play a hand if you like, play if you dare." He gives off a short-lived, suggestive smirk to better accent his dare and then returns to his new hand dealt.

"I couldn't tell you, I get that impression. Usually people who call themselves bitchy are really just confident or forceful," Sofia shrugs. Then she notices the time. "Ack, I'm up on shift," Sadness. But she nods at Cidra. "I am new to this, so I try not to assume. But I'll ask people about it and see if they might know more. It just seemed like a good place to start. Like, was it visiting people of a certain colony or look? That kinda thing. So far, nada." Sigh. "Except they are a morning person or people," Frown. "Maybe I'll ask other people out about it," A shrug. "Either way, be well you guys." She nudges the last of her pot towards Argento or at least leaves it there, standing now. She puts her cards face down.

"Quiet CAP, I trust?" Inquires Cidra, while Marko and Leyla are still roughly in the vicinity. "There is still no signs of the Cylons over Aerilon." Though she does not sound entirely relaxed about that. More speculative, as if she'd very much like an answer to the why of that. "I am hoping, once we coordinate are schedules fully with the Areion, we can give our pilots a bit of a breather on some rotations." To the table she provides some introductions. "One of my pilots and ECOs. Lieutenant Leyla Aydin and Lieutenant Marko Scaurus. Raptor drivers. Like myself." Hint of pride here. A parting inclination of her head to Sofia as she snipe goes off to snipely duties.

"Not a peep, Toast. I'm almost getting used to boring." Marko chuckles, sipping thirstily at his bug juice. "Sims?" he adds for Leyla's benefit, a hint of 'But Moooooom!' in his tone. "Okay, because it's _you_." he says. "And I know you won't stop bugging me about it." he chuckles teasingly. "Eh, thanks but no, Sarge." he replies, holding up a hand at the Marine's offer. "I'm not much on cards. Fortune tends to just kind of grimace at me any time I pick 'em up. When she's not openly laughing in my face."

Argento watches the cards fall, and shakes his head, giving away the slightest indication that he may have folded too early. He ashes his cigarette and gets ready for the next hand that Lysander deals. His eyes widen as Sofia gives him the rest of her cigarettes. "Oh," he says, speechless for a moment. "These are hers," he says to no one in particular, after she leaves. "I'll give them back to her later." He looks up and waves hello to the two pilots. "Tony," he introduces himself.

Rian looks to the pilots as they are introduced in turn, a lazy two fingered salute offered to both before she's back to her cards. Frowning she rearranges them and tosses a few smokes to the pile, her pot running low now. "It's not my night," she grumbles as she puts out her smoke in a nearby tray. Looking up to Marko then she smiles, "Aw c'mon! Fortune favours the bold, or so I hear…" A look to Lysander, "something like that anyway…"

Lysander nods to Sofia's farewell and looks briefly over his shoulder in her wake before turning back his attention to matters at hand, like placing another bet to cycle things through with the game of Triad. He grins at Marko's reply and speaks up in turn, "Good frakkin' reason not to if ever I heard one." A look to Leyla is given and then he nods to her as well before sitting back and returning to the game: "Garret Lysander." After the introduction, the Sergeant is flicking and focusing his gaze on Rian. "Triad, a game that takes a minute to learn, but a lifetime to master - or I'm one lucky bastard."

Now there's definitely a wrinkle of Leyla's nose, at the mention of the air wing from that other ship. Pilot's talk, yes they do, and it seems as though nothing good is coming back to the Cerberus about the air wing aboard the Areion. "Yes, still all clear, sir. I keep holding my breath when I fly out." Cidra knows how it is. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. "You know you can't say no to me." Just the barest hint of a smile, as she finishes off the jerky, tossing out the wrapper, idly adjusting the soft black gloves covering her hands, before she settles in with her coffee, "I don't play," a pause, "cards. But thank you." And she does offer a polite nod, as she's introduced. "But thank you."

"Nice to meet you, Tony." Marko replies. "Marko Scaurus, known to my friends as Flasher." he introduces himself. "ECO with the Harriers." he adds proudly. "Heh, Sergeant Lysander's right." he chuckles. "When my pilot here isn't trying to kill me in the sims, the Toasters are trying to do it in the air." he smiles amiably. "Rather save my luck for when it really counts, thanks."

"The game is all of luck. That is the thing about it which will drive one mad, if they are not having a good run," Cidra says, idly moving her cards around in her hand. "The only skill comes in being able to read one's opponent. If you can do that, you can come out the better more often than you otherwise might." A slight arc of her brows when she catches that wrinkling of Leyla's nose. A soft "Ah." But she speaks no more on the Areion. And lets the slight sign of disapproval for the other ship pass. Make of that what one will. A slight nod to Marko. "Boring I shall not complain about, so long as it does not make us complacent. We are having a far easier time of it here than on Sagittaron, in terms of our ability to safely extract people and resources from the planet. I shall take it while I can get it, but I shall not expect it to last."

"Nice to meet you too, Flasher," says Argento. "Sweet Pea." After a glance at his hand, he folds, checks the time, and realizes he doesn't have much time to sleep before his next shift. "I'm out for the evening. Was fun. We should play again. Rian, Garret. Major." He pockets his bank and Sofia's, and heads out.

"Amen sista," Rian says to Cidra, discarding a few cards and re fanning them in front of her. A deep breath and she puts another smoke into the pot, "all this quiet time is making me crazy." Her eyes go wide as Cidra makes the big bet, frowning then and folding up her hand. "I think I'm going to call it a night guys."

"If you wouldn't insist in pitting me against your virtual raider at every opportunity, I wouldn't have to almost kill us every time we get in the sims. I am a baby elephant, not a jackrabbit." Of course, the fact that she has a tendency to drive sim-Bertha like a teenager taking a joyride in Daddy's car…ahem, with great enthusiasm, is neither here nor there. "But I actually have an alterior motive this time." A tip of her head indicates the Major, and her voice drops, just a bit, "The Major cleared me to be a flight instructor." And the rest is just too ghastly to say out loud, so rather than share the horror with the room, she stretches up on her tiptoes to whisper the rest into Marko's ear.

Lysander glances off to the side at mention of the other ship but he doesn't pay it too much heed given his status as a marine squad leader than fancy flyboy. "Really," is quietly and relatively thoughtfully murmured by the man as he listens to Cidra and upon her words he places an entire package of cigarettes forward before looking to her. The corners of his mouth up-tilt in a fashion similar to when all of this began, and then everyone is all sorts of backing out of the game and he looks over to them. "We should," is agreed upon before he angles a look towards Rian, "Already?"

"Yeah, because you complain _so_ hard about it every time we boot up the pod." Marko chuckles. "'You gonna use the Raider, Flasher? Are ya? Are ya?'" he teases, mimicking Leyla's voice and batting his eyes as fetchingly as a guy can. "Oh really?" he grins at the news, then as Leyla leans in to whisper the rest, nearly drops his mug as he splutters with laughter. "Oh, Gods…it's true…what goes around really does come around." he sighs, shaking his head.

Cidra's casts a sidelong look at Marko and Leyla. Faintest of smirks crossing her lips, though she does nod shortly with some small measure of pride when Leyla mentions her flight instructor duties. Indeed. She leaves the pilot and ECO to their own devices, however. Getting her focus back on the game. And Rian. "I thank you for playing with me. It was most enjoyable." Rather formal, perhaps, but it's sincere. A pack of her own cigarettes, after a moment of brow-furrowed consideration, are set on the table along with Lysander's. Might as well go further in, since she's still here.

With a grunt of disapproval Rian folds her hand and tosses the cards down, crossing her arms over her chest. Looking to the pilots as they chit-chat one brow rises with a questioning look but she says a simple, "Congrats," to the woman. Turning her cheek she looks to the Sargent, "yeah, I'm beat."

"You know, you're just lucky Lunair outranks — oh no, wait, she doesn't," comes Leyla's response to Marko's laughter, "And you don't get to laugh at my misfortune, because I'm going to be putting you in there with him as often as I can, instead of letting him run with the virtual ECO." If the pilot must suffer, the ECO must suffer too! "Looks like everyone's backing down, Sir," she offers to Cidra, as she watches the playing field whittle itself down to just those two. And being that the CAG is her CAG, well, she's gotta be in Cidra's cheering section.

Marko arcs an eyebrow at the mention of his intended, his expression inscrutable. "You haven't even met her yet, Sweet Pea." he replies placidly. "So, be kind, kay?" he asks simply, then chuckles. "Hey, I wasn't laughing at your misfortune, I was laughing at _his_!" he smiles. "And if you want me to be his back seater, that's fine with me." he nods, grinning. "I wouldn't miss it for the worlds."

Garret looks down at his cards and then back to the Major. He bites back a smile long enough to politely lay out those hexagonal cards and reveal his built hand. It's a large mix and he sharpens his smile in the middle of collecting his winnings. His cache of cigarettes grows and grows. He relaxes the atmosphere around him and nods dutifully to Rian. "Shame to have you back down like so," says he before taking up one of his packs and holding it out for her to take or decline. To Cidra, he turns his voice to, "Another?"

"I have every intention of being nice to her, Flasher, it was you I was referring to." A sip of her coffee as she divides her attention between the game going on and the conversation between herself and her ECO. "I'm not sure who will set who on fire first." Certainly the last time she flew with the SL, they didn't exactly see eye to eye, "But you can put us out." Leyla is settled off to the side, close to Marko, the two looking on at Cidra and Lysander, who seem quite a ways into a game of triad.

Rian pauses on her way out to look to the Sargent and the pack of smokes he offers. Eyes flash from the package back to him but she ignores it, looking back to the room and holding her hands up in the air, palms out as she backs up, "Gnight all, best of luck to ya in the sims and in the cards." With that she turns and walks out into the darkness of the hall.

A civilian walks into the room, one some might recognize, either by sight or hearsay. Astra Koios, one of the new refugees from Aerilon, who is dressed in some of the newer clothing, with a makeshift baby sling about her upper body and carrying, well, babies. A little four-year-old girl trots at her side, looking rather sleepy yet very much awake. Astra pauses, seeing the crowd, then goes in. She has an escort, an MP who looks less than thrilled.

"Heh, I'll do what I can, Sweet Pea." Marko replies, chuckling softly. "I'll do what I can. Just remember, he is the Squad Leader, so whatever punishment you choose to dish out, he can return on you a hundred-fold." he advises. Astra's advent catches his eye and he turns to give the woman and her rugrats a wave. "Hey there, Miss Koios. How's your world?" he asks with a smile. "Can I get you anything?" he asks politely. He is an officer, after all, and expected to be a gentleman.

After putting the cigarettes back down, the good Sergeant collects the cards with a light nod of his head and appreciative smile, since he enjoys being thus cheerful, all before moving to deal the cards once again. "I can still bet the poetry, maybe," idly offers Lysander with a teasing hint of a tone to his voice while he finishes with dealing and places out an initial bet. A sidelong glance is given to the Air Wing nearby but he nods to Cidra, understandingly so. "Is it hard stuff?" He might as well continue to be so personable. Though out of the peripheral of his vision does he note the entrance of wee little tots: "Huh."

Cidra's cloudy blue eyes flit to the civilian woman. And the children. Which are eyed as if they are foreign, alien objects entities which the CAG does not quite recognize or understand. She eyes the cigarette that's still burning, and on which she's idly puffing, between her fingers. It's put out in a convenient ashtray. Carefully. She can still smoke a good third of that later. And it's probably not among her cigaretttes anyone wants to 'win' anymore, given the state it's in. She listens to the Air Wing banter with a smirk. Whatever's being talked of, it obviously amuses her. Still, her focus is on the Marine and the game. "All things are hard if one is not used to doing them. Nothing worth doing is easy, however, and a little humility has never harmed anyone."

"Sure he can, if he wants things to be even harder the next time he gets in the sim. That's where you come in." There are few people on the ship that can tweak a program as well as Flasher, and clearly, Sweet Pea intends to use his technical proficiency to her benefit. "I can stack a deck as well as anyone you've ever met." A glance away, as the door open, and a smile, for Astra and the small girl coming in with her, "Evening, Astra, they finally let you go without your wheels. And hello, little wahine." That to Petra.

"Flasher, right?" Astra tries to place the name to the face and the voice. "Nestor says you taught him how to swear. He is … hem… "etelnalally gratedful" for that." Her lips twitch, and she smiles, though her eyes seem a little tired. "And… I don;t want to be a bother. But I was told I might find something like hot chocolate here. Something to help Petra get to sleep." She motions to the little girl. "Yes, I'm getting to test the wheel-less thing. Depends on my checkup if I stay that way." Petra clings to her, eyes wide, though she does smile some at Leyla's words. "P-purty… s-…song" she stammers, then hides behind Astra's skirt.

Marko winces a little, then laughs softly, shaking his head ruefully. "Yes, ma'am. That's me." Marko smiles, then frowns a little. "My apologies, ma'am." he replies. "Wasn't exactly an ideal situation for either of us." he chuckles. "Hot chocolate…well, let's just see." he says, moving to survey the array of drink machines for the hot chocco dispenser that is more than likely here somewhere.

Lysander leans to the side in order to fancy a better look to the civilian without actually looking to the civilian. He turns his attention back to the table and all of the depravity that it currently has atop it. "Frak," is said under a breath and then he goes about clearing his throat. He sits up. "Good point, Cidra, but," he builds his hand for what it is worth and places it forward. "I respectfully request that you don't stick me behind the controls any time soon." The marine could use far more colorful words but he leaves it at that and an amused smile.

"The proper pair of hands for the proper job, Garret. Most of my pilots would look right fools attempting to lead a fire team," Cidra says. Laying her cards down. And wincing. "As I do now, perhaps. I should get out of this game while I still have some cigarettes to take back to my berthing. I thank you for the diversion. And the poetry, I do admit, I would like to hear more of." She asks not on it now, however, standing. Leaving many, many of her cigarettes behind for the enjoyment of the CMC. And then staring at the civilian woman again when Astra crosses her field of vision. Or at Astra's children, more specifically. Those things Do Not Compute in her head.

"Would you like another song while Flasher makes you something to drink, Petra?" Leyla kneels, to better be on the same level as the four year old, offering her arms, a simple gesture, as she would have offered to any of her nieces or nephews, not so very long ago. "It's not a bother for you to be here. And it's good for you to be moving around, at least to get the feel of being back on your feet." A glance over to the table, as Leyla reads the cards being laid out there, "Maybe you should offer to take him out on an 'exhibition' flight one of these days, Sir." Read the raptor vomit comet.

Petra clings to Astra, hesitating, then gives a slow nod. She sidles into Leyla's arms, not quite sure of herself, then dives against her, trying to hide apparently in the woman's clothing as Cidra looks at her. Astra looks to Marko and shrugs, giving a little laugh. "Oh goodness, he's going to learn the words sooner or later. At least this way I know there's no harm meant in it. Please, sir, don't worry about it." She turns to the two military she doesn't know, and gives a respectful bow of her head. Seeing Petra's reaction, Astra croons softly, soothingly to her, and steps so that she partially screens the girl from the woman's gaze.

Marko finally finds the hot chocco machine, or, more accurately, the 'simulated hot chocolate flavored beverage' dispenser, and, snagging a mug, draws a big cup full. This being the liquid equivalent to Fleet Chow, no telling what the poor kid's gonna make of the taste, designed to delude weary adults far from home for long periods of time into thinking it's the real thing. "One cup of the Fleet's finest." Marko says as he passes the cup to Astra.

The piles of cigarettes and their cartons, drinks, food, and a magazine or two spaced out between Sergeant Lysander and Major Hahn should be ignored. Garret himself begins to collect them if only to put them out of sight so the either of them aren't labeled permanently as miscreants by children. They judge far harsher than adults. "Well, thanks to you as well. It's not every day I get to win bets against my superiors," just most days, and he smiles. He stands a slight after Cidra does and turns in place to face Astra and the tots, and everyone else, giving a respectful nod of his head. "Can do," with regards to poetry, "I'll see what I can scrounge up before," he glance to Leyla, "I get in an exhibition."

"Hello…child," is Cidra's 'greeting' the little thing hiding from her in Leyla. Awkward CAG is Awkward. She leaves the poor thing by without trying to talk to it anymore. To Astra she manages an obligatory, "Very…handsome young ones." It is recited like the thing one is supposed to say about children. Time for her to retreat. "I shall see you both back at the berthings," she says to Marko and Leyla. And a parting, "Do not bet against your superiors very often. You do it too well," to Lysander.

Leyla gathers the small girl up easily enough, which is likely as mind boggling an image, Leyla with child, as child in rec room, but she rises to her feet, keeping the small girl cradled against her, her serviceable contralto settling into another Taurian lullaby as Marko scours the rec room for the hot chocolate, "I'll have to hit up the Chief. I heard he brought back quite a bit of the real thing from the surface." A respectful nod, to Cidra, who, lacking free hands, Leyla cannot, at the moment, salute, "Mrs. Astra Koios, sir, and Petra, two of the people we rescued from the mine. Astra, Petra, this is my commanding officer, my boss," she offers to Petra, using the simpler explanation, "Major Cidra Hahn." But as Cidra seems on her way out, Leyla adds on, "Fair winds and full sails, Sir." A faint almost a wry smile, at Lysander's comment.

"Thank you ma'am. Sir." Astra seems unsure which is correct, and she gives a puzzled little frown before using both. "And… ah… Thank you. They are… fine children." She clears her throat, looking at Lysander. "Sir, you needn't clean up for me. The babies won't remember, and Petra… won't care." She takes the cup of chocolate, tasting it herself, blowing on it a little. "Thank you, sir," she says, more formal with the Formal Officer in the room. She moves to Petra, and convinces her to loosen the leech-cling enough to drink from the cup. Petra gulps it down, then wipes her lips on the closest fabric available.

Lysander leans back against his table and casually folds his arms over his chest, listening to the lullaby in the process. With Cidra's departing comment though he looks to her with a pleased smirk and bows his head. "Of course, Sir, but I take that as an ego-boostin' compliment as well." He then directs his attention to Astra and a warmer smile is given before he shakes his head and replies in turn. "Good to know, but I want to try an' look like I'm neat and orderly too," he pauses and looks over his shoulder to the rest of the table. It's a mild success. "Garret, though, I'm not on duty… and due back to in," he checks his watch, "Twenty."

Which just happens to be the unzipped front of Leyla's sweatsuit top. But if hot chocolate is the worst thing that ends up on her off duty togs, well, she'll count that as a win, "It's always sir," she offers to Astra, as the lullaby comes to a close, or she at least pauses it long enough for Petra to finish her cocoa, "The military doesn't differentiate between genders, in that regard." In pretty much any regard, really, considering the state of privacy or lack there of on the ship, "What about you, Astra, you want anything before you take Petra back to sleep?" her eyes track back to the Marine, studying him with the casual ease with which she looks over most of the Marines, as if they're a completely different sort of species. Not rude or mean just…you know, wow, something new to look at.

"Sir," Cidra clarifies for Astra. "Pleasure meeting you, Ma'am." Another faintest of smirks to the Marine. "My cigarettes shall boost your ego, I hope. Clear eyes and steady hands." The last offered seemingly in reply to Leyla, though it's generally given all around. And, off she goes.

"Heh, just call me Flasher, Ma'am." Marko replies with a little smile. "How's your newest?" he inquires solicitously, moving to find a chair for Astra and her children.

"Garret, right sir." Astra nods. "And a pleasure meeting you too, sir." This is for Cidra, and she draws herself up just a bit straighter. She remains silent until the woman is gone, and then she lets out a deep breath. "Gods, I could go for some chai, but that's a bit exotic, maybe. Anything, really, that won't keep me awake. "Evanthe and Evandra are doing very well, thanks. Would you like to see them?" Petra sighs a little, then begins to examine Leyla's sweatsuit, humming tonelessly under her breath.

There's a flash of a wider grin at still being called sir but Lysander doesn't try to stymie that any further. The man has made his introductions and sticks by then, while remembering of the cigarettes thanks to Cidra and plucking up the bag he's placed his things in. When he's back to standing upright he looks aside to Leyla and then once more when he notes her studying. Back to Astra, he adds to the conversation, "Lovely children, they are, but I'll be takin' my leave now before someone decides to challenge my prize with more Triad. Was nice meeting you." He turns to the pilot and ECO combination with a nod, "Lieutenants."

Leyla allows Petra to amuse herself, as she wanders closer to the drinks station, holding the small girl with one arm, and reaching down with the other to riffle through the selection of tea bag that have been set out from the stock brought back from the emporium, "There's some jasmine green tea. You take sugar, or milk?" She's standing with a girl about four years old monkey clinging to her, over by the drinks station, with both Marko and Astra close. Lysander is by the table. Well, departing now, "Just Sweet Pea is fine."

A near-stranger puts in an appearance in the rec room, Alessandra most likely all but forgotten due to her having gone into semi-seclusion since recent events. Looking around warily, she slips past a few people who almost glare at her but are too busy talking to call out to her, a blessing undoubtedly. Seeing the familiar face of Marko and a few new ones, she hesitates in approaching, waiting for a bit before moving closer.

"Take care, Sarge." Marko calls, nodding politely to the man. "That was sone damn fine playing." he adds with a seditious little grin. It never hurts to see your CO get beaten. Good for the soul, somehow. "I'd love to, ma'am." he adds for Petra's benefit. "So they're both okay?" he asks agan. "Being born on Bunny's Raptor didn't scar them for life." he chuckles.

"Pea-pea," murmurs Petra, slurping the rest of the hot chocolate. She starts to lick at the cup to get the last of the foam. "Preddy Pea-pea." She does not volunteer anymoreand goes back to shirt-examining, letting the cup go, forgetting about it and letting it drop. Astra tilts her head, then smiles. "Normally I take it plain, thanks. But I s'pose milk and sugar both would be good for me." She sits down, lips twitching at Petra, and lifts one twin, then the other, out of the sling. They both are mostly-asleep, looking contented. "Not scarred at all," she adds, then gives a polite nod to the newcomer.

"Sweet Pea an' Flasher it is then," he saddles up with a short but appreciative smile sent to the both of them and a casual salute of his right hand. Sergeant Lysander takes a moment to collect himself and pretend to be formal, giving a stiff glance about the recreation room as well, before leaning towards the group with a famous half-smile. He takes to an eased step as he makes with his departure from the area. "An' thanks indeed," is called out jovially over his shoulder about his playing. He slows in coming near to Alessandra and tips his chin as he circles about, glancing to her and then the others. He pauses. "Lovely bunch they are," he says in general before disappearing along.

Marko can't help but _awww_ and smile and make funny faces at the babies and to hell with decorum. Alessandra's advent is met with a grin and a wave, even as he's giviing the wee ones gentle tickles with his free hand. "Hey." he mouths, waving her over.

Not for nothing does Leyla have quick reflexes. And the same skill that let her catch the flying MRE, allows her to catch the cup before it falls to the ground. Set down on the table, she begins the task of making tea one handed, Petra shifted slightly over onto her hip, which, one could say, might be precisely why women were given hips in the first place. "Lucky, nice to see you out. We're having drinks before bed, if you're interested. Flasher makes a mean cup of hot cocoa."

"Night Sarge, maybe you could show me a move or two in Triad one day?" Marko calls.

"Hmmm, oh! Sweet Pea!" Seems like Allie had her memory jogged by being greeted by the other pilot, her face flushed. "How is everyone?" The child is watched for a moment before she nods dumbly, her expression slightly off, somewhat pained. "Sure, sure. Some hot cocoa would be wonderful, thanks." Cocking as much of a grin as she can muster. The Sarge is looked at and then given a nod, both in greeting and in parting, as she makes herself comfortable. "How is everyone doing, huh?" As she asks she pulls out a small tube-like bottle, one that clearly came from the infirmary as it's that odd clear amber-brown color, and a pair of pills are extracted from it.

Petra clings to Leyla, though she does look anxiously at Astra, shaking a little, then burying her face against the pilot's shoulder. She hiccups, putting her hand to her mouth so that no sound escapes. Astra looks over at her, smiling reassuringly at her, then looks up at Marko. "Do you want to hold one? They're really good about not crying when they're passed about. Which is good, because they've been passed about a lot." She glances over to the unfamiliar woman and gives a nod, not having a hand free at the moment. "Hi," she says softly, a bit shy herself.

"Eh, I'd love to, but I probably shouldn't." Marko replies to Astra. "Not really used to handling newborns and all." he explains with a little smile. "They are adorable though." he adds. "Glad you all made it out safe from there." he grins, kissing the little ones on the forehead one by one. "Hang on, Duckie, I'll get you a cup." he says, hauling himself to his feet and pouring another dram of the 'I Can't Believe It's Not Hot Chocco' machine.

"We're fine, thank you." Leyla takes this opportunity to speak for Petra and herself. The tea is almost finished, left to steep, before she adds the cream and sugar. She also steps away, beginning that soft singing again, adding a gentle rocking motion of her body, as if to soothe the small girl to sleep, "They won't bite, Flasher…they barely have gums. Don't be afraid of the gums."

Alessandra watches Marko with a grin, the pills carefully palmed until the drink is brought back; bitter, they go down a lot easier with something to take them with. She listens to the byplay between Leyla and Marko while watching Astra and the wee ones, the miniature people getting a mix of emotions to cross her face. Nodding absently in response to Leyla, she takes the time to return the small container of meds to her pocket, the plastic bottle once again ferreted away. "I am glad everyone is well," she eventually answers.

"They may not bite, but they have tiny, fragile little necks I don't trust myself to handle." Marko replies to Leyla. "Don't wanna harm the little buggers, ya know?" he says, cocking his head a little as he watches Duckie take her dose of whatever. "What's the story with that?" he asks her

"And really, when was the last time you heard of anyone being gummed to death?" murmurs Astra, her lips twitching once again into a smile. "But… thank you. I think they're adorable, but then, I'm prejudiced that way." She slips one of the twins back into the sling, then lifts the other. "You sure, Flasher?" Her grin fades a little when she looks over at Petra. The little girl is rubbing at her eyes, hard, doing her best to not fall asleep. She shakes her head, then bites at her hand to keep awake. "No, no, Pea-pea," she sniffs."

"One of these days you're going to have one you won't be able to give back, Flasher. Might want to think about getting practice in now." But that's all she has to say about that. "How about I take you back down to the others, and I can tell you stories until Mama Astra's ready to go to sleep, and then you can watch over her?"

"Headache," Allie says after downing those pills, those then chased by a bit of the sweet, hot drink. "Nothing major. Just stress." Shrugging a shoulder, she looks at Astra and shakes her head, chuckling. "I can't say I blame Marko for his concern. Babies are so very fragile." Not that she's ever really had a chance to hold a baby but she still can understand why he'd be worried. "I'm sorry, miss, but I can't recall if we've met or not," she say then. "I'm Allie and you are…?" Leyla is given a smile. "It's good to see you. We'll need to make more tables soon."

Petra hesitates, tensing, her eyes going wide, filled with conflicting Sweet-Pea adoration and terror. Astra sighs, nestling the second twin in the baby-sling, and then taking her tea and rising to her feet. "How about I come down too, and you can show Sweet Pea your nest?" She turns to Alessandra. "Mrs. Astra Koios. And I don't mean to run, but I want to get Petra out of here before she starts screaming."

"What she said." Marko chuckles to Alessadra's comment. "Anyhow, I got a lot of sim results to pour over before these weary bones find a rack." he says, stretching mightily and giving a long yawn. "My pilot is a slave driver." he comments teasingly. "Frakkin' perfectionist of the First Godsdamn Order." he groans playfully. If the kids over hear and add to their vocab, he doesn't care in the least.

"If you like, you can get with Bunny and I. He wants to do something together. Might be nice for us all to work on a piece." Leyla nods, to Astra, and then looks back down to the child in her arms, "Yes, I'd like to see your nest. Maybe I could even find a few more things for you to put in it. You've got to have things in your next, right?" But she'll head out with Astra, to help with the girl, "I'll come find you once everyone's asleep, Lucky."

"Well, seems like everyone's about to be visited by the Sandman. Sweet dreams everyone." Allie manages a smile and even gives a small wave to everyone but she remains put, content to just relax. That's been something she has had great difficulty in doing, recently. "I'll look for you later if I'm not here by the time you're free," she adds, that to Leyla.

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