| With Pride |
| Summary: | Mathers blings out Vandenberg. |
| Date: | 25 February 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | OSM |
| Players: |
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| Obs Deck |
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| With a quiet view to the stars, this tends to be one of the more popular 'quiet areas' of the Cerberus. Up front is a small-unseated area for ceremonies or other activities while the seating rises up behind it. Each level rises up behind the one before it, comfortable chairs and couches set up for crewmembers to relax, get some work done or even take a nap. A large armored plate is lowered during Condition One to protect the interior against a breach in the glass. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #364 |
Among the advantages of hiding in Audumbla Anchorage is the view. Maybe that's what has drawn Mathers here this evening, sitting reclined as he is in the second row with his feet propped up on row in front. Instead of chewing on a toothpick, he's opted for a full blown cigar, no doubt won in some late night Triad game or procured using his expertise as an S4. The thick smoke coils up from the stubby tip of the roll, adding a fragrance to the air that even the heaviest setting of the life support air circulation system can't immediately wisk away.
Vandenberg wanders her way down the side of the room. She's in her combat blacks, completely with sidearm on her thigh, but missing her assault vest and rifle. The helmet is on her headwith the straps dangling beside her cheek and there is a clipboard under her arm. "Hey hey, sir," she greets quietly, angling towards him as she takes off her gloves. "Helluva sight. This is pretty amazing." Its her first time. She stops beside him but looks out the armored glass with some ill-disguised awe.
Zane pulls the cigar from his mouth, using it gesture at the seat next to him. It's an invitation to sit, or a casual order, depending on how much reverence one gives to pins on his shoulder. "Do we ever look at the stars any more? I mean really look at them with that same heart-swell we did as children. That daydream that some day I'm going to be on a starship, up there among them. Have we become so disenchanted now that we're close enough to touch them?"
Natalie glances down to the gesture and removes the clipboard, stuffing her gloves into her pockets as she sits. One leg tucks under her before she leans back to look back out with a better vantage point. She smirks with the musings of her XO and gives a light shrug. "I never planned to be out here. I wanted the ground my whole career, sir." The woman glances to him with an ease. Its nice to sit and relax for once. Now that she is closer he can probably notice the paint found flecks on her shirt and pants. Her gaze drifts back outside. "But I think- I think that we don't so much look to the stars with that wonderment as we do to..other things. A year on, we have to look at the miracles and small things to really achieve that same wonderment. The stars may be a little too big for us these days." For how she words it, she still seems pretty positive and upbeat.
"One day we'll be able to look at the stars again. Until then…" Zane's face dimples with a smile, a curse that makes him look younger were it not for the dark circles underneath his eyes. These swarms are getting to everyone. "…we'll have the small things." He shifts his cigar to another hand, rolling one hip to downward to give him access to the pocket on the opposing. A flat, black velvet box is tugged out some what awkwardly and he fumbles with it in order to open it and present it. Inside is the Fleet Commendation Medal. "Lieutenant Natalie Vandenberg, you have served your fleet proudly and it is with great honor I present to you this medal for your planning and execution of Operation Silent Mastiff." Maybe this is the first decoration he's ever handed out, for he seems a little nervous like a man proposing to his girl in the middle of some fancy Virgan restaurant.
"Its the small things, sir. We remember the big events in our lives but its the little things that keep us going and smiling every day between the big stuff, yeah?" She keeps her eyes on the shifting view in front of them while the cloud changes and pulses. Its almost eerie. Her brow furrows at seeing Mathers shift until she notices the box. Van's face turns up with a smile while she waits for him to finish. "Heh. Look at that. Thank you, sir." She takes the box from him and looks it over. "You can relax now, Captain. I appreciate this. I figured I was the only officer he put in for decorations anymore." She grins.
How long had he been carrying around that damn thing anyways? Anyone's guess. He pushes back and settles against the cushions of the chair, clamping the cigar between his teeth as he takes another puff. That act along helps to relax him. "Sorry it wasn't more formal." Like he popped her cherry in the back of his car instead of lighting a few candles. "I just figured there would be enough pomp and circumstance with the upcoming anniversary." His foot hitches back up on the chair in front of him. "I wanted to give it to you personally, though. Damn fine work. We couldn't have done it without you, and that's not just me blowing smoke up your ass."
Natalie looks at the medal in the box for another few moments before settling it on the clipboard. She glances to him with an understanding expression and then back to the box. "I do the formal things for my people when I can but I prefer the quiet stuff. Thank you, sir. Just don't feel bad. I once delivered medals to a Sergeant at an observation post during a rainstorm. I felt like crap about it when I made the delivery until I saw what it did for his mood." She's quiet pondering over the rest while his words linger in the silence. "I appreciate it more from you, Captain. The Major is.. Well we don't have to wonder about you, sir. The Marines know you. They respect you already. But thank you for the recognition. It was a lot of hard work. My payoff was seeing everyone make it out of there with barely a few scratches." Says the woman who had a hole blown in her hand. "This is the icing."
Mathers reaches over to palm her helmet, giving it a playful wiggle which should do wonders for her hat hair later. "The Major is your Major. And I'm just an over-glorified supply clerk with a whole heap more responsibility. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and as long as we recognize them and fill in any voids created, we'll continue to kick ass and take names." His finger reaches out to tap the box. "Wear it tomorrow. And with pride, because you earned it."
Vandenberg chuckles, turning her eyes down at the ruffle. It doesn't last as long as it probably should. The woman has been under a lot of strain and considering she showed up to work last week with a swollen cheek and a limp, its definitely showing. She's relaxed now but the Lieutenant just doesn't carry the same air she used to from even a month ago. Particularly in the last few days. "You do more than that, Captain. Don't sell yourself short. You're not plugging gaps. You're bridging divides. Serious divides that everyone could see. I'm just glad you're here." She looks to the tapped box and chuckles, though she doesn't reply. The clipboard is handed to him with a pen. "Need your authorization, sir. I'm going to be running a HALO familiarity class in a few days and want to add something similar to our standard training for recruits. I run the training program, sir, but any major changes need approval. I'm also running a machine gun class. We've got the heavies but not enough people that know how to employ them. Same with the Karlstovs. That's going to be added to the program as well."
Mathers takes the clipboard from her, but he isn't the type to just scribble his name and be done with it. A man who has a love for forms, he's actually reading what she's dropped in his lap. And he's not a fast reader. "Make sure to leave a slot open in case I decide to audit the classes." In other words: the XO could use some training as well. He uses the pen to skim along the line he's reading, touching each word individually as if making sure he understands the implication of each little vowel if he's going to sign away on something.
"Not a problem, sir. The class sizes are open. When people do it, we size them for a suit too and try to get one they can try on and wear around. I'm going to be bringing over a civilian for it, too." Vandenberg asides all of this easily, though it is something she should inform him of - though it would be just so easy to omit. She likes working with him, though. "She's a former Supervisory Special Agent with the CIB. College educated, very smart. Finished ROTC but declined her commission. I'd like to get her involved with the Corps as an incentive to join. We could use someone like her in the MP's, skipper." The affectionate term for a respected leader of Marines. "I've run her clearances already. She's good to go."
Mathers is still reading, so his eyes are directed at the paper, though is ears are pricked to Vandenberg. "What is this Supervisory Special Agent's name?" Because the more he's in the know, the better, all things considered. He's finally made it to the bottom of the page, and he pauses just before penning his signature. "You'll double and triple check all safety precautions are in order before you commence any new training? Make a dry run with your experienced hands before toss in the greenhorns?"
"Charis Apollonaris. She's smart as a whip and someone I think you should meet, sir. I want her to meet a few of us as well. Introduce her around. She's used to Marines being a bunch of inbred cocks. I don't think she has much experience with us in a full combat footing." Vandenberg finishes, looking back out the glass plating. There's no rush for her. "We're good for safety, sir. Nobody will be jumping during this class. Gunnery Sergeant Constin is our Jumpmaster, anyway, and our official instructor in exactly how its done. That brief would be done just prior. This is more.. Try it on. See if its something you want to do. The suits can get claustrophobic. Better to find out now rather than at the door, right?"
Mathers finally seems content, and his big scrawl gets added to the bottom of her form and the clipboard gets handed back. "Just make sure whatever training class you're doing can be stopped at the drop of a hat. Things have been quite so far in the Anchorage, but there's no telling if it'll stay that way. We hit Condition One, people need to be able to clear out and to their action stations."
"I would actually prefer it." Vandenberg takes the clipboard back with a quick 'thanks'. "It would give these people a chance to practice scrambling out of the gear. Boots to the ground would be like hitting condition one. But I catch you meaning, Captain." She nods and rises from her seat. "Hopefully we'll see you there, sir. If we don't I'll try to bring the CIB agent by the SecHub." She fingers the medal and looks down to the box. "Thank you for this, sir. Any recognition helps out a lot more than you know." Lopsided helmet and dischevelled hair, she lifts a hand to salute him.
"If I had my druthers, you would have gotten a hell of a lot more." Mathers' hand smoothly rises up to his brow, quickly snapping the salute. "Track me down as you like. I'll happily meet this agent of yours. Have a good evening, Lieutenant."
That gets a genuine, big smile from the Lieutenant. "Thank you, sir." She takes a long breath and drops her salute smartly. The woman turns to go with just a little bounce to her step.