PHD #125: What One Should Know
What One Should Know
Summary: There are some things that some people should and shouldn't know. Psyche, Quinn, and Trask demonstrate.
Date: 01 July 2041 AE
Related Logs: Some Mild to Moderate Side Effects May Occur
Psyche Quinn Trask 

Deck 4 - Naval Deck - Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #125
The floor plating along the corridors of the Cerberus is standard military. Their forged steel plates are welded seamlessly together to run nearly the entire length of each hallway. The hallways themselves are the typical load-bearing structural design of the angled quadrilateral. Oxygen scrubbers and lighting recesses are found at nearly perfect intervals throughout the passageways.
Condition Level: 3 - All Clear

Psyche comes barreling out of the pilot berths, earbuds in her ears, the faint, tinny house-beats of some long gone (and good riddance) Caprican pop band being pumped into her head. She goes dancing down the hall, pulling herself up short at the sight of Quinn. "Hey! Hi, Captain Quinn, sir! Nice to see you up and about!" She looks Maggie up and down, as though expecting her to be showing like Leda. But no. Still. "Congratulations, by the way!"

Quinn is just getting off of duty, limping rhythmically back from the deck towards the berths, looking far better than when she was on crutches but still not 100 percent. And definitely not showing, other than the fact that Jugs suddenly has something close to jugs, which is a first. She looks over to Psyche and blinks, smiling almost awkwardly. "Ah… well… thank you. I… Yeah. Thanks. Good to see you too…" Maggie stammers out, a hint shocked that the woman has heard.

With the 14-hour shifts that Trask has been working for more than a week, there's no real way of determining whether he's starting, ending, or in the throes of the work day. What is evident is that his usual equilibrium between sprightliness and weariness is tilting more heavily to the latter side of the scale. That he's dressed in his duty blues, which he avoids wearing as much as possible, certainly must be adding to his brooding mood. From the Officer berths doth he emerge, making his way towards the main stairway with all the purposefulness of a bull.

Psyche claps a hand quickly over her mouth. "Ohmystarsandgarters, shouldInotknow?" she rattles, all big eyes. She coughs awkwardly. "Gosh, I'm sorry. I just… heard from…" she looks around the near-deserted corridor. "You know. Around." Totally doesn't want to rat out whoever's been talking loose and out of turn, it seems. She flashes a warm, though abashed, smile at the captain. "So. Uh. Yeah. I guess I'll shut up, then. But… I think it's really wonderful." She nods sincerely. "Gods bless you both, sir." She glances down the way, pointing towards her intended egress. "I'll just be… moving along." Nodnodnod.

Quinn shakes her head gently to the embarrassed pilot. "No, no…it's okay. People are going to know eventually. Probably sooner rather than later. I appreciate the thoughts, Bubbles." And then her eyes trail over to the rushing bull that is Trask. She watches him, halting in her tracks so he can rush right past her as she was headed to the berthings. "…Hey," she calls after him, half-heartedly. She's getting used to being ignored by her best friend these days.

Psyche smiles brightly at Quinn's gracious response. "You're welcome, sir. Anything you need, just let me know." She nods, calling out a greeting/farewell combo to Trask as she hustles on her way: "Lieutenant T, sir." Add a flippant little salute and there you have it, folks! The amazing Bubbles, exit stage left. She'll be here all week — try the veal!

Rushing isn't exactly accurate. Even so, Bootstrap moves with the intensity steady of a bulldozer. Brown eyes flick Quinnwards when her voice registers, briefly scrutinizing in their regard during the instant he's determining her duty status. That red hair is braided, which means he's concluded she's starting her shift. "Hey. I'll walk with you as far as Medical." Psyche doesn't even appear to be a blip on his internal DRADIS.

Quinn blinks faintly, looking back to where she was going. "I…" Hell, he wants to talk to her? Or at least walk with her? She should take every chance she gets. "Sure." And so she turns right around, beginning the limp back in the direction of the central stairwell. "…Medical. What's going on? Are you feeling okay?" She asks with immediate concern, looking him over as they go.

"I wouldn't say that 'okay' is how I feel about having to explain to several people how they're supposed to do their frakking jobs," is the sardonic assessment. Indeed, Kal is quite cranky. Even so, he's nice enough to somewhat slow his pace so that Quinn can better keep up. "You seem less gimpy." Which is the kind of thing he'd say even if he weren't in a bad mood.

Quinn gives a faint smile, "I feel less gimpy. Getting used to the brace, getting a bit more muscle back in the leg. It's… going well enough… Brace was a good idea, it seems." She's doing her best to be on the bright side of things right now, though his comment about telling people their jobs makes her tilt her head. "Now… you're a damn fine ECO… an amazing SL… and a brilliant engineer. You've decided to be a doctor too?"

The compliments roll right off. Instead, he dryly snarks, "I'm not incompetent enough to be a doctor." Someone has definitely pissed in Trask's cereal and replaced the raisins with rat turds.

Dual Stairway - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus
This stairway runs up and down the center of the ship.

Deck 7 leads to the main forward areas of the ship within the 'Alligator Head'. This is where water tanks are stored and the Combat Information Center is located.

Deck 9 leads to the stern area of the ship. The main area of the stern houses the sublight engines and FTL Drives.

Quinn limps into the stairway, leaning against the wall a bit to go over hatches, but she gets through it. "You going to tell me what the hell happened, or am I going to tag along for this shindig?" Maggie drawls out quietly.

"Where in the idiocy should I begin?" is asked, the hatch actually held open for the new LSO. "The part where my formal request that someone qualified be assigned to assess my people, or maybe the bit where shit that should've been disclosed to their CO was not disclosed?" For all his irreverence, there are some things for which Trask is a stickler. These scenarios, evidently, qualify.

Quinn tilts her head, eyes widening a bit. "They didn't tell you about Evan." The pieces fall into place almost too quickly. But then, she was there, holding Evan's hand. "Hell… do… Do you think the doc realized the change of command? I was with Evan… for his appointment. Maybe she… forgot? Not that it's any excuse."

When Quinn says that, it's as though she just waved a red cape in front of the Taurian. That turbulence that always lingers beneath the surface of his gaze surges to the fore, causing undulations in his eyes, their lids, and even the brows. Confusion. Shock. Anger. An unmistakeable undercurrent of betrayal. "You knew." It sounds as much as an accusation as it does a realization. "You. Knew." And she didn't tell him.

Quinn stares back at him, her own temperamental eyes going just as hard as his are. It's not smart to pick an argument with a pregnant farm girl red head. She can out stubborn any bull. "Don't you -dare- give me that look, Kal Trask. You haven't given me the time of day in two weeks. When the FRAK did you expect me to tell you?" She snaps right back at him.

Out stubborn a Black Country bull? Maggie might well be made into mutton. "Hmmm. I wonder," Kal caustically considers, casting his eyes as though contemplating, idly gesturing his hands in a let me think about it a moment manner, which is simply to reinforce the snark. "Oh, yeah. How about when you frakking learned?" Nodding, he dryly confirms, "Yeah. That would've been an ideal frakking time."

Quinn is not stepping back from this argument, a genuine bit of anger crossing her features, arms folding across her chest, "I am neither his nor your commanding officer any longer, Trask! It's sure as hell not my place to go spilling Bunny's medical issues that I heard in a confidential meeting! Much less hunting down the man who won't talk to me to tell him privileged information!" Maggie is practically shouting it right back.

"Really?" The sarcasm is getting turned up to 12, what with the tone and stance he's adopting. "Evidently, you suffered a worse smack on the head than realized 'cuz you should know that kind of information isn't privileged, seeing how it falls within the purview of what must be medically disclosed to a patient's commanding officer, which, by the by, just in case you've forgotten, I am." Thanks to Quinn.

Quinn's anger is just about matching his sarcasm, Maggie shaking her head rather viciously. "It wasn't -MY- information -TO GIVE-. Look, Kal, if you're looking for another reason to frak off on me for another few weeks or be mad, then just be mad. Don't make it about Evan. The guy is having enough issues right now!"

"Oh, this isn't about Evan. It's not even about those frak-ups in Medical. This is about you knowing something that I should have but did not know, and that you kept it from me." How Trask manages to make something simultaneously sound oh so serious and insouciant is a real talent. "But thank you so much for letting me know he's having issues." It's called causticity because it corrodes and burns.

"Kept it from you!? You think I sat there thinking, 'Oo, better not tell Kal! Let's see how much we can frak up his day!?'… Really, Kal? … Frak you. This isn't about me or Evan at all. It's about -you- being scared of your job and not nearly so in control as you normally are and taking it out on everyone else. So… just frak off. Come talk to me when you're ready to be half human." Maggie turns then on the ball of her foot, half way between screaming in anger and tears. She doesn't want him to see the tears, though. So she heads off fast, faster than her brace likes, just trying to escape the yelling match before it escalates.

The volume of his voice does increase, but the timbre isn't quite right, and the tone is too obnoxious for it to qualify as yelling on his part. "Why bother, Maggie? What's a day when you've already frakked up my entire life?" There would be the flippancy. "Now's not the time for modesty, sweet pea. I'm taking this out on you," no one else, "because you're the reason this is even my problem." Is it obvious that the ECO never wanted to be made SL? "So you'll just have to excuse me if I'm just a tad bit bitter that I'm having to pull your weight, in addition to mine, and that of too many other frakking people." The eye roll is practically audible, but it's debatable whether or not it manages to mask the pain and disappointment that the extra load is coming from her, of all people. "Oh, by the way, EL ESS OH, the Deck is in the other direction." Noted as derisively as possible before the boots of Bootstrap are traversing the steps to Deck 10.

"I just got OFF duty, you frak. I was walking with you 'cause I felt like talking to my friend. Guess I made a mistake there." Maggie is just about to leave, when she pauses and turns back around to him, "And you didn't have to take the job. You could have said no. Yes, a part of this was my fault, but you locked yourself into the contract and that's on no one's shoulders but you." Maggie hisses at him, but her voice is starting to crack. The anger is going to give way to tears far too fast, so now she does disappear out the hatch and down the hall.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License