AWD #053: An Interlude in Viper Country
An Interlude in Viper Country
Summary: The Viper pilots and their guests rest, relax, shoot the foo, and talk of missions upcoming and recent.
Date: 28/02/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: A few here and there.
Agrippa Cassie Holtz Phin Ygraine Tasha 
Viper Squadron — Deck 2 — Battlestar Orion
The berthings for the Orion's Air Wing are the same as what one would find on any other Mercury-class Battlestar, though they are distinctly different from the rest of the bunks on the ship. These bunks are separated not into sections of sixty, but by squadron. That means that there is a little more room to move around with only twenty to twenty-five pilots in one bunkhouse. Some officers have brought a small rug to sit in front of their bunks, but the tables and chairs are standard military issue. At the rear is a small couch that was probably new when the ship left anchorage and seems to have been kept carefully clean. The crest of the Lucky Strikes has been painted onto the wall behind the couch, as well.
Thu Feb 28

Today was a good day all around. Cassie and Kelsey got a chance to talk and make up while out on a training mission, which Kelsey totally frakking rocked, and she came back all smiles to prove just how excellent it all ended up becoming. Currently whistling while changing clothes, Cassie is in nothing but her unders and tanks, just about to get dressed after a celebratory shower.

Phin was on CAP for the day. Or a shift of it. He's returning to the berths now, still in his flight suit. Though he's unzipped it, so the arms are hanging down at his sides. A general "Hey" is offered to the room at large. Anyone in their underwear, or other states of undress, are…not so much ignored, but he's trained himself to keep eyes forward and by all appearances on his own business in the shower and communal bunk.

Agrippa had stayed behind at the hangars for a moment, having flown CAP with Phin and a third pilot, a higher ranked one since they were both Ensigns. He was speaking to some of the tech people, pointing something out in his Viper for them to keep an eye on. He had felt something odd during the aerospace patrol and made note of it though it did not disrupt the flight. So he catches up to his wingman, a few steps behind and coming in a jog. His flightsuit is still buckled up and zipped, the helmet tucked under his arm, "Doesn't look like it will be a big problem, Dolly, could've just been my imagination>." Then his eyes sees that Cassie is also present and in changing, calling a greeting to her, apparently not minding the state of undress or making a big deal out of it, "Hey Shoes."

"Hey, guys," Cassie greets the men with, turning slightly as she regards Phin and Alex both. "Something wrong," she asks the latter of the two, his statement about the 'problem' getting her to wonder. "Oh hey, Phin. Sorry about the bitchiness. Everything's alright now." A sweat shirt is pulled off of her bunk and put on over her tanks, the shirt long enough to cover her backside and not much else.

Holtz arrives from the Squadron Berthings.

"Nothing exploded, then?" Phin asks Agrippa as he starts to get out of his own flight suit. It's stowed, as are the now rather gross clothes he had on under it, in a pile of stuff in the black of his locker he probably means to launder. At some point. The question to the other ensign is mostly a joke. "Hey, I know what you meant, man. You get used to how the birds are supposed to sound, y'know? Something not right, it wigs. The techs'll get it in shape." He waves off Cassie's apology, as he transfers from underwear to sweats. "Don't sweat it, Shoes. I try not to pry into what's not my business. Glad you got it sorted, though."

At Cassie's question about something being wrong during the CAP, Agrippa shakes his head in answer, "Nah, I doubt it Shoes. Maybe just bored jitters while on CAP earlier, system showed all green but getting the techs to check over one part of my Viper just in case." Since this is Viper Country and not some intimate private setting, the young Ensign moves on to his own bunk instead of staring at Cassie as she dresses, feeling more a locker room atmosphere than anything else. "No boom, Dolly. And that may be it I'm more use to my own bird back on the Valkyrie so I gotta get use this one." He begins to unbuckle his own flightsuit and unzip, not sticking his nose into the 'bitchiness' apology.

The guys might not be looking at her but she is sneaking a bit of one at them and is not even bothering to try and cover up how she is. She shrugs after a moment and puts on the pants that match the sweatshirt, the drawstring tugged tight so they won't fall off. "Feeling like something's wrong is never any fun," she says with a slow nod. "Especially when you're in the frakking thing as that feeling hits."

Phin isn't terribly shy as he changes, even if he does still keep eyes to himself by all appearances. He hops into his sweat pants, then tugs on a tank top, and shuts his locker. "Yeah, they've all kind of got their own rhythm," he says with a nod to Agrippa. Once he's more or less dressed he pads over to one of the tables and sits. Backwards in the chair, so that his arms are balanced on what would normally be the back of it. "This much different from the Valkyrie? I really couldn't speak to any other battlestar. I practiced landings and take-offs on a few of the ones stationed over Picon, but apart from that, this has been it for me."

"Just gotta clock more time in that Viper, maybe offer to switch some CAP shifts with some of the other pilots for future favors or something." Agrippa says as his unzips all the way, if Cassie wants a view, she'll get one. Stepping out of the flightsuit, he folds it up and stows it then goes to peel off his tank top, remaining in his shorts. Now, to hit the head or to relax here a bit and talk some more. "On the Valkyrie, I flew a Mark Two, the new batch came in late. My flight and I were cursing up a storm at procurement but they probably saved our frakking lives." Meaning he wasn't shut down by the Cylons when they hit Caprica, leaving him a sitting duck." He finally makes a decision, grabbing a large towel and his showering kit from his locker, prepping though not leaving yet.

Holtz enters the berthing to see several of his pilots in various states of undress. It doesn't seem to faze him, though, as he moves towards his own bunk with a murmured "'scuse me" as he passes Cassie. And yeah, he'll look while he's there. It might not be a drooling leer, but it's definitely a look. There's a binder in his hands which gets tossed down on his bed, and he grabs a flask from his nightstand and takes a long pull. "Seen one battlestar, you about seen 'em all," he notes with a quirk of his lips. "Twos, huh?" That's to Agrippa. "Heh. Thank the gods for small favors, yeah?"

Cassie shakes her head. "You'll get used to it soon, Agrippa. And all those little shimmies and shakes that get you about pissing your flightsuit won't even be noticed." Not knowing Holtz is behind her, Cassie bends over to pick up something that fell out of her locker, an unintentional showing off. Or at least it would be if her sweats were not a size or two too big for her. "Oh hey, sir. How the frak is it going," that said to Holtz once she realizes their SL is here.

"I did some of my flight training on a Mark Two," Phin says with a grin. "I liked them, actually. All the old manual controls. Had to mind your shit, or you could wreck easier than in a Seven, but they had a really cool feel to them." He offers a "Hey, Storm" to Holtz. "You serve on many, Captain? Other battlestars, I mean." A glance at Cassie. "What about you, Shoes? I sometimes forget that some of us haven't been flying together that long, y'know?"

Since their off duty, Agrippa raises a hand in a wave to Holtz who has just arrived, "Hey boss, and yeah, thank the Gods for that delay." There is a slight shake of his head as he recalls seeing so many friendly birds just tumbling and floating in space, being gobbled up by the raiders, just wasn't right to go out like that. He does shoot Cassie a smirk, "Hopefully, though I will say this, I didn't notice is we tango'd with those tin cans over Aerilon. The CAP was probably too quiet and I was noticing too many things." Agrippa then nods at Phin, in agreement with the other pilot's assessment of the Mark Twos.

"At ease," Holtz deadpans to Cassie with another look. "Hangin' in there, Shoes. How y'all doin?" For his part, Storm is wearing his blues; apparently no CAP for the Viper captain today. He yanks off his uniform jacket and hangs it haphazardly in his locker. "They were still trainin' kids on the Twos, then? Good," he says a beat later with a certain amount of professional satisfaction. "Less forgiving than the Sevens. Sure, it'll frak up a nugget but good with all the manual controls, but that ain't a bad way to learn, you ask me." Provided, of course, that the lesson doesn't include a fiery death or some such. He looks over at Phin. "Actually served on? Not that many. I ain't that old," he replies with a snort. "But I did tours on Triton and Chimaera, and the count runs up to about ten or so when you count in training missions, temporary assignments, that sort of thing."

The singular female shakes her head, that in response to Phin. "Nah. I was stationed at CFAB Argolis after flight school," that being why she still gets lost while trying to navigate the corridors. Big different between a Battlestar and a planetside base. "Oh, I am alright, Captain. Did a run with Squire today. Got her some bombing training in today."

"I'm not going to complain about the quiet. Or the chance to log more flight hours," Phin says. "But…yeah. Your mind does kind of wander to pass the time. Maybe we should try playing I-Spy over the wireless or something. If CIC wouldn't flip over it. It's…sort of an alertness exercise." It's a joke. Probably. He smiles like he wouldn't terribly mind trying it, though. To Holtz, he nods. "Not old, sir. Just…experienced. Really experienced." He perks, at mention of bomber training. "Reminds me, I should get in some more Predator hours. Live, instead of in the sims. They feel real different than a Viper, speaking of how the models handle."

Nodding his head at Holtz, Agrippa sets the shower kit and towel on his lap as he remains seated on his bunk for now, "Still training in Two's, went through Flight School on CFAB Nike. Was definitely a lot trickier to fly but when you get use to it, it's like you yourself is flying out there." Probably why he is still getting use to the newer Mark Sevens. At the game suggestion by Phin, Punchie can't help but laugh, "Man, I wish I spy a hot blonde during CAP, but I guarantee CIC will fip if they hear us." Agrippa then looks back to Cassie, "Squire… that's Wescott right? Heard she saved the TACCO's bacon over Picon, some crazy shit went down there I hear."

"You an Arg survivor too, Shoes?" Holtz asks, a brow peaked. "Did two years in that shithole. Frakking Sagittaron." He shakes his head, remembering. Something Phin says jogs a different memory, though, and he grunts as he lights a cigarette. "Speakin' of flyin' and such," he notes, "got some missions coming down the pipeline soon. More asteroid recons in Cyrannus. Gonna need some Viper sticks." He snorts at Agrippa's last. "Yeah, I read the report. Still tryin' to wrap my head around it. That asshole on Picon…" He trails off with a quiet shake of the head.

"Yeah. Wasn't the best of places to be but hey. What counts is where we are now, not where we have been." A pair of socks is snatched from her locked and, with a bit of balancing on her part, she gets them on, not bothering to sit down to do so. Mention of Marcus and Kelsey her her smiling, proud. "Yeah, she really did well." Not that Kelsey thought so to begin with but it is what it is, right?

"Everything I hear about what's going down on Picon sounds bizarre," Phin says darkly. "What's your handle on it, Storm?" He's more enthusiastic about the asteroid missiosn, though. "I am a Viper stick. Anywhere you need me, man. I'll try not to dent the windshield this time. Frakking 'roid belts."

Echoing Dolly's enthusiasm about the asteroid missions, despite flying around fast moving rocks being a rather tough mission, Agrippa nods his head to Holtz, "Same here boss, I'm game for any missions you have open and need a Viper stick." As the others begin talking about Picon, the young pilot finally rises from the bed, "Gonna hit the Head real quick and grab a shower, be back in a couple of Mikes."

"That's my Strikes," Holtz murmurs, pleased with Phin and Agrippa's readiness to volunteer. His expression hardens, though, when Phin asks him about Picon. There's a silence as he considers the question. "I got about as much a clue as you do," he says finally, his normally sonorous voice now a throaty growl. "But I did start to wonder. Those new Cylon models we been hearin' about, the ones with flesh, blood, bad breath an' everything. Seems to me our command staff would make a mighty nice target, yeah?" He shrugs, a cagey but sour expression on his face as he makes the implication.

"All that crap about 'enemy agents' coulda just been a smokescreen of bullshit," Holtz adds a moment later. "They killed Jameson and Faulkner for real, coulda frakked us up good, and I bet they know it as much as we do." A beat. "Or Bancroft's just gone off his nut, which ain't much better."

Ygraine arrives from the Squadron Berthings.

Holtz, Cassie and Phin are hanging out, talking about pilot shit while milling about the berthings. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss anything, sir. You start doing that then you start putting yourself and others at risk by getting lazy and sloppy." After that's said she shrugs and flops onto her bunk. "But I'm really not in the mood for talk about conspiracy and all that crap. Think I might go for a run in a few."

"Don't trip on the soap, dude," Phin jokingly advises Agrippa as the other pilot heads off. His smile fades at mention of the new Cylon models. "Yeah. I vaguely recall word about that." He frowns at Holtz's idea. It sits ominously with him. "You think they even know our command staff exists? I mean…wouldn't that have outted Piraeus? If they knew anything about us? But we're still here, and CAP's still quiet, y'know what I mean." He nods, about the smokescreen thing. "Perfect way to make us all paranoid, man. Put us at eachother's throats. Used to read about tons of stuff like that, when I was studying pre-Unification history back at the Academy. Spies planting false intel, wheels within wheels, y'know." He's seated at one of the tables, chair turned backwards so his arms are folded on the back of it. He looks recently off CAP. Or at least, recently out of a flight suit and has not bothered to shower yet. A semi-abashed nod to Cassie. "Gotcha, Shoes."

Ygraine decides to grace Viper Land with her presence, because she classes up the joint. Yeah, right. But she does manage to walk in at just the right time, because she remarks as if she's always been a part of the conversation, "The only people who can really reveal Piraeus are the people who process ship jump drives." She smiles, but it's slightly too wide. "So y'all aint ever wantin' an ECO to get captured by the enemy."

A smirk is thrown at Phin's direction by Agrippa, "I'll keep that in mind, Dolly." The Viper jock is currently in just a pair of shorts with a large towel draped over his shoulders, shower kit in hand. Having already excused himself, he heads towards the hatch and sees Ygraine entering, flashing her a grin, "Hey Shake, is that you're way of telling us you're the most important?" He teases on his way towards the exit to head to the Head.

Holtz, for his part, is still clad in the lower half of his blues uniform, his jacket with the gold wings and captain's pips hanging in his still-open closet. He's leaning against the line of lockers, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips and bobbing as he speaks. "Don't wank it too hard," he calls after Agrippa with a smirk; apparently his and Phin's heads were in the same place. "Frak if I know, Dolls," he says to the other pilot. "Most of the fleet didn't know about us. Even if there are spies among the survivors… I figure if we haven't seen an invasion fleet yet, we're good. For now." He crosses his arms over his chest. Then Ygraine enters, and he jerks his head in her direction in a nod of greeting, of sorts. "Hey, Shakes."

"Thanks, Ygs. Now we know who to airlock if shit hits the fan." Cassie grins lopsidedly at the ECO, not serious with that threat at all. "Anyhow, I should get some exercise before hitting the rack. See you guys around." Athletic shoes are tied onto her feet and she's gone.

"You're saying we should guard your life like our very existence depended on it?" Phin asks Ygraine with a grin. "I think I can manage that. Hey, Yggs. Hey!" He is suddenly reminded of something. "Read your report on the morning briefing board. Did you guys seriously find an ancient city down on the planet?" He's sort of geeking out about it. But he is a history brand of geek. A "Later, Shoes" is offered to departing Cassie.

"Really Grippy, do I need to state the obvious? Ygraine replies to the man departing for the shower adding, "Bullet to the brainpan might be wiser. Y'all hear about the aliens down on Piraeus yet?"

"Guess it's a good thing we carry pistols with our kits, then," Holtz deadpans in Ygraine's direction. "City? Aliens?" He frowns. No, he apparently hasn't read that memo yet. "The frak?" He looks from Phin to Ygraine and back again, lines of confusion furrowed into his forehead.

Phin nods, though he waits for Ygraine to explicate the details. All bright-eyed.

"Y'know that mission I went on with Centerfold on the stick and Rutilii from the deck backseatin' with me?" Surely there is a suitable place for her to park herself - oh yes, Holtz's bunk. "Rutilii set up some custom work on a raptor and we were able to get a visual on what was under the layers by the base of the mountain over at 994A-3. We found somethin' pretty full of whoa."

"Yeah, I heard you were headin' down there." Holtz puffs quietly on his cancer stick as Yggy flops onto his bunk. He utters a bemused grunt at her description. "'Full of whoa'. Yeah, that's specific." His lips twitch. "What kind of whoa? Some giant frakkin' pyramid buried under a mountain or somethin'?" Sounds like something from one of those lurid action novels he reads.

"I heard there were, like, buildings," Phin says. "What were they like? I mean, did the construction remind you of anything or…anything?" How would she know, Phin? He's seated well upwind of Holtz's cigarette, but he shows no other real discomfort with the puffing. He's used to it in the berths by now, even non-tobacco user that he is.

"Houses." Ygraine affirms. "Not like, 'vague hovels that could be used for coverage' but actual, honest-to-gods houses. And they were set up in rows on either side, like streets. There's sections that are blown over, like a kid knocked over their dollhouse. Centerfold's guessin' it was a bomb. Y'all know what that means? We all got told that Piraeus is supposed to be untouched…but there were people here. At least five hundred years ago, maybe longer."

"Well, frak me." Holtz utters a low whistle, shaking his head ruefully. "First the Cylons come back, and now this. The gods just decide they hadn't frakked with us enough over the last forty years, or what?" he remarks drolly. A sharp, snorting chuckle follows, though it's a sound devoid of any actual humor.

Phin lets out a long, low whistle. "Damn. That is creepy. I mean…I guess it could've been a separatist group. Like the Celtans on Virgon, only better at actually getting away and doing their own thing. Or some break-off from one of the Exodus tribes. Or part of the Thirteenth Tribe that supposedly left Kobol before all our ancestors. Or…" He is kind of babbling. This is as much fascinating as unnerving to him. Maybe more the former.

"What Exodus tribes? The only Exodus tribe is the Thirteenth. Who knows? Maybe this is Kobol. Squire was sayin' she thinks it might be alien aliens. Funky aliens like in movies." Ygraine snorts. "I expect if were, the houses wouldn't be so normal lookin'."

Holtz isn't nearly as much of a history buff as his wingman, and his expression is mostly blank as Phin starts rattling off the possibilities. "Think he meant the original twelve that left Kobol," he volunteers to Ygraine after a moment. He knows enough to hazard a guess on that front, at least. "Aliens, like honest-to-gods bug-eyed freaks and shit?" Holtz' ensuing snort sounds very similar to the sound Ygraine just made. "I'll believe it when I see it. Sounds like the girl's imagination ran a bit off the tracks."

"Like…guys with tentacle-heads and shit?" Phin is doubtful of aliens. "Never heard of anything real out in the universe except us. And the toasters. You really think this could be Kobol?" He considers that. "That'd be a hell of a thing, wouldn't it?"

"Dunno. I didn't exactly spend a whole lotta time in temple school." Ygraine admits. "What about either of you?" She looks between the two men. "I mean, if this is Kobol, how would we know?"

"'Any return to Kobol carries with it a price in blood,'" Holtz says, the cadence of the words suggesting he's reciting something from memory. Something from the scriptures, it sounds like. "Well. That sure as frak tracks, if nothing else." He rolls his eyes, emitting a heavy sigh. "Findin' a few old beat-up houses don't make it Kobol, though. Could be anything."

"My temple education was sort of narrow," Phin says. "The Ares brothers drilled history like they drilled the other subjects - occasionally at spear-point - but I couldn't begin to guess. Might be some artifacts left? Stuff they talk about in the Sacred Scrolls?" He shrugs. "Price in blood…" More creepy thoughts. He just lets that one sink in and roll over in his head rather than saying anything else.

"I had a feelin' you'd know." Ygraine admits in Holtz's direction. "And it may or may not be Kobol, but ya gotta admit, the fact that we were told it was untouched and that's not true is pretty questionable. I mean, the command staff I've been workin' with was as suprised as we were, and if the Old Man knew, don't ya think he'd be arrangin' t'keep us from findin' out?"

Holtz purses his lips in consideration. "Probably," he says after a moment's thought. "Secrets are like ambrosia for the brass. But ya can't keep a secret if you don't know it's there to be kept." He shrugs his shoulders. "All this shootin' in the dark ain't gonna learn us anything new, though. Got plenty else keepin' us busy, yeah?" Holtz' practical streak rears its head again. "Wouldn't mind pokin' around a bit down there myself, though, I'll tell ya," he admits.

"They seemed surprised to find the radiation. I can believe they might not've known it was there," Phin says. "Can't figure why they'd keep it from us but let you guys go poking around, at the same time. Seems like that'd just be a good way to piss the crew off, if they had known anything. Yeah. I admit, I'd kind of like to see it, too. Once you guys and the engineers have cleared it, of course. Wouldn't want to get in the way."

Ygraine makes a face. "Either of ya got any trainin' in spelunkin' or that kind of shit?" asks Ygraine. "Because I ain't heard back from command yet, but at some point we're gonna have to go down there, like, bodily. In rad suits or somethin'." Ygraine shakes her head. "The planet's still empty enough for us t'feel like it's new. Speakin' of which, you two ready for a survival weekend exercise in the deep forest next month? You too can get yourself eatin' by giant wolves." A grin.

"Done a little rappelling back home," Holtz volunteers, "but I wouldn't call it training, exactly." He shrugs. "I could probably manage, though." The mention of survival training manages to bring a thin smile to his lips. "Sure. I'll pass on the bein'-a-wolf-snack part, though. I'd rather be the one doin' the eating." His smile spreads.

"Yay?" Phin deadpans, about giant wolves. "But, seriously. Survival weekend sounds like a good idea. Would not mind having a better handle on how to deal with terrain if I have to bail." As for spelunking, he shrugs. "A little, but not much. Did some climbing on the cliffs back home, but that was mostly on the paragliding trails. Back up. I can put in some practice hours on it, though. Always seemed like the kind of thing I'd want to try."

"Everybody's gotta do it, so suck it up, big guy." Ygraine actually looks flustered for a split second after Holtz's initial remark, and her prompt words serve as recovery, the second bit of it for Phin. "Piraeus has pretty variable environments, so we'll be doing tropical and arctic, too. The point is to really drive the SERE tactics home." She can't help but add toward Holtz again, "Don't worry, if you go all Tauron over pretty wildflowers like you ain't ever seen one, I'll make sure ya don't get stung by a bee or whatever." Snicker.

Holtz laughs. "No worries. Was never all that big on flowers," he cracks. "But cut me some slack if I decide to take off my shoes and go for a run in the grass, yeah?" His words are punctuated by an exhale of smoke as he looks over at Ygraine with a smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Phin shoots a look between Ygraine and Holtz, but if he notes Ygraine's flustered-ness he doesn't comment on it. "Tropical I can deal with. I wonder if they have a monsoon season on this planet? Those can be brutal. Might be good training for what to do in never-ending frakking rain, though." He stands, heading back over to his locker. "Speaking of, I think I'll hit the pool for awhile." In lieu of an actual shower, apparently.

Ygraine says mock-primly, "I'm a farm girl. Grass under my feet is what I grew up with." She waggles her fingers at Phin. "I'll figure out a way t'get ya down there. Eventually. They passed the Air Wing's portion of th'project over t'me. Which makes things kinda weird, but go figure. Enjoy your swim, Phinny."

Holtz visibly shudders at the mention of monsoons. "Gods, I hope not." Living on Tauron will prepare one for any number of extreme weather conditions, but torrential downpours aren't one of them. "Have fun." That's to Phin. "I'll let ya know when I've got more on those recons."

"Always do, Yggs." Phin grabs his suit, a towel, and some floppy shoes. The latter he slips on before heading out. "Later, Storm. Cool. Keep me posted." And off he goes.

Ygraine looks back over at Holtz, thoughtful. "Was Tauron really all concrete?" Even if she spent flight school on Caprica, the idea of a completely urbanized colony seems incomprehensible to her.

Holtz doesn't answer immediately, as he turns back to his still open locker. He fiddles with a couple of knick-knacks before stamping out his cigarette into an ashtray on the top shelf. Finally, though, he shuts the door and looks back over to Ygraine with a slight headshake. "Not all," he remarks, moving to lean on the table in front of the bunk on which she's sitting. His bunk, though he's not complaining. "Ain't exactly a lot that isn't, though. Still, get out far enough from the cities and there's still some open spots. 'Course, if it ain't concrete, it's rock and sand," he remarks with a shrug. "You were jokin' before, but I never actually saw a real flower until I left Tauron for the first time."

Ygraine is perched on one of the viper bunks - for an ECO, she sure spends a lot of time in viper land. She's staring at Holtz in incomprehensible amazement, and is unable to resist asking a question. "Ya ain't gotta answer, but…I gotta ask. When ya saw a real one for the first time, what did ya think? Or was it not a big deal?"

"Ain't like it was some holy revelation or some shit, if that's what you mean," Holtz replies with a short chuckle. The grizzled Viper captain is leaning against the table in the middle of the room between two lines of bunks, across from the rack Yggy is perched on. A hint of cigarette smoke-smell still hangs in the air around him, though he's not smoking at the moment. "I'll say, though, seein' nothin' but pictures your whole life ain't the same as actually being able to reach out and touch the thing. That was… somethin' else."

Almost 2300 hours… downtime… Laying back in her bunk with the curtain drawn to give a sense of privacy, Tasha has a single light on while reading a book with one leg drawn up…Feet bare and wearing her undershirt and some undergarments but not much else, the Viper jock catches snippets of whats being said enough to pull the curtain back from her bunk nd peer out while staying on her back.

"That's…" Ygraine almost doesn't want to say it, but she does, after a moment, "Sweet." Aww. She peers at him sidelong. "You really gonna be okay when we do survival training? I mean, I expect ya would because you're tough, but - you ever been fishin'?"

"Yeah, yeah," Holtz mutters, brushing off the 'sweet' comment with a brusque wave of the hand. His arms again cross themselves over his chest, seemingly of their own volition. "I'm from Tauron, Shakes, but that don't mean I've never seen trees or standing water before." An annoyed look plays over his features, but it's interrupted when he hears the rustling of Tasha's curtain over to the side. He directs a curious look in the direction of the other bunk. "Shit, Blackbird, we wake you up?"

Laying flat on the bottom bunk, Tasha shifts and swings her bare legs out a moment before a hand comes to grasp the top of the bunk. Prying herself free, the young woman stands and arches her back to stretch out a few kinks before shaking her head, " No I was reading so don't worry about it. I don't sleep anyway most nights." Sniffling as her unbound platinum blonde locks spill across her face in a silken wave, she raises a hand to brush them back over one ear while turning to get her cargo fatigues and slip them on before puling them up and cinch them so as to be at least moderatly more decent. " You guys talking Tinnie talk or just killing time."

Walking back from the car lonely corner of the room where she has set up shop, Tasha comes to lean against one of the bunks and gives Ygraine a sly wink while leaving her own hair to spill about her pale features and down to the middle of her back unbound. " How goes it Ygraine. You can't sleep either and listening to the old war dogs stories?"

"Hey, I grew up so are away from cities that it was jet black except for the buildings on our own acres as far as could be seen. Caprica City was crazy overwhelmin' to me, so 'scuse me if I thought ya might not be entirely used to a totally different environment either." Ygraine says, holding up her hands in surrender. "However, I did follow that up with what was gonna be an invite on our own, for some fishin' and huntin', maybe give ya leg up, see if ya like it." Then, "Hey, Blackbird. Storm ain't old. He's just well weathered." There's a grin.

"Oh." Ygraine's reply isn't exactly what Holtz seemed to have been expecting. "Well, yeah. It ain't exactly old hat, mind, but I can handle myself." Her offer does seem to raise his interest. "Sure, yeah. Sounds like fun." It even sounds like he means it, too. Storm shoots another look over at Tasha, and snorts at the interplay between the two women. "Nothin' serious as all that, Blackbird, just killin' time." The talking about serious business was a while ago. "And no, never been." Fishing, that is. "Knew a guy on Caprica after I mustered out the first time that had a boat, but his idea of 'fishing' was to have a pole in the boat when you went out on the lake to get drunk." He chuckles.

Hooking both hands on the side of a bunk behind her, Tasha crosses one foot over the other at the base of the wall and then leans forward to extend her arms out back behind her… The resulting pop of a few joints causing the girl to grown breifly while her head falls forward allowing the silken wash of her to fine hair to spill like water over her shoulders and hang before she looks up… features parting the locks like a predator surfacing from the depths of the ocean, " Stories are some of the best ways to kill time Storm…. Well I at least enjoying to an Ace talk about his work but then again I have yet to make my own mark on the board." Lips purse into a mild frown at that thought and the need to take more action against what has transpired.

Inhaling while maintaining her rather strenouse stance so that the muscles along the back of her arm tense, Tasha wets her lips and twists her head upon her neck to look at Ygraine, " Speaking of stories and not to blow off camping… which by the by I love… hint hint…" A sly wink at that one, "Why don't you tell us about your latest recon Milkshake. I heard you saw some frakked up shit out there?"

"I just got done tellin' folks, so how about we save it for the mess tomorrow?" asks Yggy of Tasha, adding, "Don't worry. We're totally gonn do a forest survival exercise next month, so there'll be plenty of campin'." Looking back at Holtz, she grins wider. "Naw. I'm talkin' diggin' up our own bait, makin' snares, hunkerin' down in a bluff, that sorta thing. I think you might like it, if ya can stand t'be around me all that time without anyone else for miles an' miles. If ya don't, we can just go back t'Checkpoint Charlie's and ya can watch me drink up with my new challenge coin." Oh really now! Back to Tasha, "Trust me, plenty of stories around this place."

Holtz raises an eyebrow at Ygraine's description of their proposed trips. "Sounds a little like work, innit? Though I could think of worse things than spending a couple days with you in the middle of nowhere," he says with a lopsided smile. "'Sides, if there's any drinking going on, I don't aim to just watch." He punctuates his words with a pull from the flask he grabs off his nightstand. A look goes to Tasha. "More'n enough toasters in my sky these days, Blackbird. You'll get a chance to put some notches on the killboard, believe it."

Releasing her grip on the bunk behind her, Tasha takes a step forward to arrest the forward momentum that would see the girl spill across the floor before straightening. Both hands tug at the hem of her shirt before she fishes in a pocket for a hair band, " Sure thing… No worries Milkshake." Wetting her lips, the girl brings both hands up and pulls her hair into a poneytail while a few wisps escape to either side of her brow and frame her features even as the rest is tied back.

Releasing her grip on the bunk behind her, Tasha takes a step forward to arrest the forward momentum that would see the girl spill across the floor before straightening. Both hands tug at the hem of her shirt before she fishes in a pocket for a hair band, " Sure thing… No worries Milkshake." Wetting her lips, the girl brings both hands up and pulls her hair into a poneytail while a few wisps escape to either side of her brow and frame her features even as the rest is tied back.

Listening… Tasha is good at that while still feeling out the poeple from the new squadron she mostly only saw in passing, she parts her lips fractionally and listens to Ygraine talk about her camping ideas or the possibility of drinking it up. Mentioning the coin peeks her intrest and causes a lone brow to arch in curiousity slightly as if the idea of getting cool coins intrigues her but she doesn't inquire at this point. Instead, she breathes out softly and looks to Holtz as he replies. "Thanks… Well hey you to have fun and don't let me intrude to much." Amusement plays within those cool blue eyes as the viper pilot shifts her stance and takes a step to the side leading out of the barracks. " I need to fetch and fold my laundry anyway and might hit the gym since I cant sleep."

Glancing back at Ygraine, Tasha's eyes widen fractionally with innocent intrests, " Want to grab a run in the morning? I run better with a partner and have yet to find anyone interested in trying to keep pace."

"Are ya kiddin'? I love huntin'. It ain't work, not t'me." Ygraine says with enthusiasm. Then she mms at Tasha. "I ain't really a runner. Try Shoes for that. But if ya ever want to swim or spar, hit me up. Ask Holtz, I take a punch like a champ." She grins over at the blonde. "Ain't like we're kickin' ya out or anythin'. Hell, I'm the visitor in this part of the berths."

Holtz snorts. "It's true," he pipes up helpfully, confirming Milkshake's account of her punch-taking abilities. "Good fight usually puts me out. If there ain't a soul to spar with, the bag'll do in a pinch." The big Viper pilot sidles past Ygraine, stifling a yawn as he moves towards his own rack. She's still perched upon it, though, and he nudges her; not so much to chase her off, but to get her to make room.

With a wave of her hands, Tasha's lips part in a wide grin, " No no … It's okay trust me. I do need to get my laundry before someone decides to pull my stuff and just toss it aside so no worries." Wetting her lips and taking a half step backwards towards the door to continue her exit, She adds. "But sure… Maybe you can give me some pointers since I'm not much of a fighter but I love the water. I'm a huge water baby."

Dropping her gaze back to Holtz, Tasha lifts a hand and splays her fingers slightly to wave, " Take it easy and see you around I'm sure." With that she gives ygraine a wink and turns on one booted heel to head out into the main corridor and off to the laundry room… good times… good times folding the still oh so fresh clothes.

Ygraine obliges, scooting over and watching Tasha leave, a thoughtful look on her face. Leaning back, she pokes him in the ribs with two of her fingers. "Whassamatter? You tired all ready? You an old war dog after all?"

"World really has gone to shit when a man can't even lay on his own bunk without such scurrilous accusations thrown at him," Holtz mutters, his tone full of mock severity. A hand swats lightly at her fingers, but it's clearly not meant to actually dissuade her. "If I was tired, I'd've told you to frak off so I could sleep undistracted." He winks. "And just watch how you throw around that o-word." Oddly, he seems to object more to the 'old' part than the 'war dog' part.

Ygraine pats his stomach insteack, with the clear mock indication of oh-hey-it's-old-man-gut!. "Don't worry, I prefer experienced to old." She beams at him innocently.

Holtz shoots a glare at Ygraine, but again, there's no real rancor there. He doesn't bother trying to deflect her hand this time though, as a guttural sigh bubbles up from the back of his throat. "Hnh," he grunts with a roll of his eyes, though his lips are twitching in barely concealed amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I got yer experience right here," he replies with mock derisiveness, shaking a fist at her.

"Like fine wine." she says, and then heckles, "Well, maybe more like barn made moonshine." She starts to get up, but it is admittedly a slow, wait and see if he makes her stay sort of process. "Ready for Hibernia? I bet you're climbin' the walls."

Holtz emits a short, barking noise that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. "You know me." He shrugs his shoulders. "Might not be much use to the engineers, but I used to fly ships like those liners they found, so who knows." He watches her slowly slide off the bunk. "Hey, I ain't chasin' you off if you wanna stay. Wasn't plannin' on rackin' out right away."

"Wasn't sure." she admits, but she shifts her seated position to a sprawl on her side, and doesn't seem to care who sees it. "Ya mean from that civilian fleet that's out by Hera?" she asks. "Heard about that a bit before I came into the viper berths. Makes me glad I'm Orion. All those ships, just floatin', afraid t'talk t'each other."

Holtz slides over and lays on his side, making room for her to stretch out if she cares to. While the bunks weren't expressly designed to hold two people, they're just big enough to make it work. "Yeah," he confirms with a nod. "Don't think there's anyone left on 'em to talk even if they wanted to, though. Heard the toasters did a real number on 'em, the poor sorry bastards." He looks around. "But yeah, I know what you mean. Shit sucks, but ain't many better places than here to be right now." Holtz' humor tends towards understatement.

"Do we know what hit 'em?" Ygraine muses. "Was it whatever got the Reese? I mean, those marines, they oughtta know, right?" She does in fact stretch out - so conversation is actually lower than normal because otherwise they'd be talking each other's ears off. "When they start ex-fil for the civs on Picon I expect we'll be seeing a lot more new faces."

"I'd guess it was one of those ad hoc civ convoys that formed up when travel stopped during the attack," Holtz replies, another twitch of his shoulders suggesting that he's just spitballing at this point. "Probably got in the middle of a fight between the toasters and some remnant of the fleet or another. Wrong place, wrong time, that sort of thing." His own voice is, at this point, just above a whisper. "Yeah. Hopefully we get a few more Fleet stragglers in the mix, too."

"Maybe some will enlist. Or try to pipeline into the Air Wing. You could be instructin' again." she notes solemnly. "At least for combat pilots."

For a moment, Holtz looks distant, as if contemplating the possibility even as Ygraine mentions it. "Yeah, I'd thought about that," he admits. "Good chance of that, actually, if we do get a training pipeline set up," he muses. "Anybody with the rank and experience can lead the squadron, but we ain't exactly flush with qualified instructors."

He laughs a moment later as something occurs to him. "Hell, not even the rank, not necessarily," he snorts. "Still had lieutenant's pins when Sheperd first gave me the squadron. Jumped me up past Redux and Hipshot when he made it permanent." Well, it's not permanent, exactly, but there doesn't seem to be another change in command in the offing any time soon.

"There's Janitor but he seems kind of, um, explosive." That's the best way she can put it, and not even really explain it all too well. "D'ya like it? Instructin', I mean. Because there's stuff you're good at and then there's stuff ya love t'do."

Holtz purses his lips at the mention of Cole. "Dunno what's going on there," he admits. "I expected him to take over again when he got back, but so far no one's tellin' me anything of the kind." Another shrug. "Guess I'm gonna be holdin' the bag a little longer." There's a grimace, but it looks more accepting than pained by the concept. "Yeah, I liked it," he says in a tone that suggests he hadn't really given it much thought before. A slight smile cracks his lips. "Felt like I was doing something more worthwhile than just flying endless CAPs in a peaceful system. And it didn't hurt to have a class full of kids who hang on to what you say like it's the word of the gods, yeah?"

"Oh, ya like being admired by a bunch of wide-eyed kids, that it?" and she makes a face, supposedly reminiscient of a wide-eyed kid, but it doesn't last very long as she breaks into a grin and admits, "I almost wish ya had been one of my instructors. Almost. Ya got a think for knowin' th'right thing t'say and do for people t'get somethin' outta what they experience and keep it from breakin' 'em. That's somethin', Kurt."

"Pfft." Holtz snorts, rolling his eyes at her face. "Yeah, cause I need the validation that only a roomful of clueless nuggets can provide." He snickers, though his expression sobers as she continues. Was that a brief flash of modesty on his face? "That's somethin', yeah. But is it enough?" He drifts off into silence for a moment before trying to inject a hint of levity back into the conversation. "Dunno. If you'd been a student of mine, might've made what we're doin' these days a little awkward, yeah?" Grin.

"Depends on what else ya want." she tells him forthright, and then laughs. "Aww man, I missed out on the opportunity t'have a torrid and inappropriate affair with ya involving sex on a desk and in a flight school sim. This is high tragedy." She yawns then. "Y'mind if I stay for a bit? I'll catch a nap and sneak out in an hour or two." She doesn't wait for an answer, she just closes her eyes, burrows her face in his chest, and he can just enjoy the strawberry scent of her hair until he falls asleep, if he doesn't roll her off the bunk first.

Ygraine's laugh is echoed by Holtz. "Inappropriate, yeah, considering you were still a schoolgirl on Leonis when I was teachin' rooks. A cute one, though, I'm sure, but not worth goin' to jail over." It's not often Holtz is the one to tease her about the age gap, but this is one of those rare times. "Stay as long as you like. Anyone has a problem with it, tell 'em to take it up with the management." He looks down at Ygraine before settling in himself, wrapping a tattooed arm around her.

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