ALT #335: Cards and Chat
AWD #335: Cards and Chat
Summary: Officers from various departments meet for an evening of Triad.
Date: 07/12/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Atalanta Elias Quorra West 
Naval Officer Barracks
The few hundred officers the Orion has under the breadth of naval and marine service are housed in several berthings, each one filled with sixty bunks to bunkhouse. The houses are further subdivided into twenty bunk sections with five bunks along each wall and a table between them. The sections are divided off by a bulkhead to avoid the issue of noise. Every individual bunk has a set of drawers beneath it and a plain blue privacy curtain, and each officer is afforded a standard locker for most of their uniforms and personal items. The steel plate flooring does little to warm the spaces, but a few of the crew are partial to creature comforts and some have put down small rugs in front of their bunks and a few of the berths have had a couch brought in.
Thursday December 07 2005 AWD #336

Attempts were made to secure exclusive use of the Ward Room for a card game, but those appear to have failed, as the word from Elias is to meet in the Officer's Barracks. At least he has a table and a half-dozen chairs set up in one of the corners near the hatch. The Intel Officer has already installed himself at the table. Elias is still in his duty Blues, but with the jacket unbuttoned half-way down his chest, showing the white undershirt beneath. He is busy shuffling the cards, and smoking a cigarette of course.

West comes in after duty, having arranged the watch schedule so that he can get to the game. He unbuttons the top few buttons of his own tunic and pulls his pipe out of his pocket. Since no busy-body enlisted men are around to bust his stones about it, he also pulls out a pipe of fumara weed and begins to fill the pipe as he finds a seat at the table, "Evening, Elias." he says, informally, this being a definite off-duty situation.

"Gentlemen." Quorra nods to the men as she walks up. She is not a fan herself of the so-called "off-duty uniform." In her mind, if it's a uniform, she's not genuinely off-duty. And that being the case, unless she's working out at the fitness center, she wouldn't be caught dead in the whole fatigue-pants and tank-top thing. So it's duty blues for her. "Did you bring beer, Seneca?"

Being called by his first name gets a subtle double-take from Elias — he may be unused to it, but he doesn't seem to mind West doing so, and of course for officers off duty it is perfectly acceptable as well. Perhaps it's just that he is almost never seen off duty. Or at least off duty and awake. "Seneca … isn't it?" he ventures, responding to the Engineer. Then his gaze shifts to Quorra as she enters, and he offers a thin smile in greeting. "Ah, good. Well … I've heard that Major Franklin may be a bit late, and Doctor Nadir had some emergeny to deal with, so it may just be us for a while." He slides the cards towards the center of the table. "But that may give me a chance to remember how to play."

"There are a few litre bottles in the first drawer under my bunk. And a chiller that I might, possibly, have jury-rigged from a few broken parts." West volunteers, vis-a-vis the beer. He tamps down the smoking weed in his pipe and then pulls out a match case, striking a match and lighting it, then touching the flame to the fumara a few times. Puff, puff, tamp, relight. Puff, puff, relight. Now he's got it. There seems to be a whole little ritual to the process. "Seneca it is, yes."

The sciences officer looks upbeat but somewhat on the tired side. Quorra slides a hand across her husband's back and plants a greeting kiss upon his cheek. "I haven't played triad in ages myself, but it's not dependent on having an even number of players, is it?" She excuses herself then to go in search of the beer bottles and chiller mechanism in West's bunk.

Elias nods to Seneca. "I'm a little out of practice on my social graces, sorry." Then he turns his head to answer Quorra's question. "No, there's no partnering or teamwork in Triad." He then glances between the two Wests with a dry smile. "Unless the two of you are planning to gang up on me with marital telepathy." The news that Seneca has a beer stash gets a curious look from the Intel Officer. "Are you brewing that yourself?"

"Yes. One of my many skills." West responds, with a laugh, "You were at the Pyramid Court party where I was serving some of what I made?" It should be pretty easy to find his stash - it is, indeed, in one of the drawers under his bunk, and the beer is nicely chill from the kitbashed micro-micro fridge that West has cobbled together. "And I don't think we have any marital telepathy, as useful as that might be."

"I heard that!" Quorra is wearing a teasing grin when she returns with the necks of the beer bottles clamped between the fingers of each hand. "Of course we have 'martial telepathy.' How else do I always know when you're misbehaving?" A smirk. She sets the bottles down and then heads back for the chilling apparatus.

Atalanta has arrived.

A table has been arranged in the Naval officer's barracks to accomodate the Triad game, where West and Elias are now seated, with Quorra standing beside the table. The cards are still stacked in the center, undealt. "No," Elias explains to West how he was not at the party they hosted on Piraeus. "I couldn't get away, unfortunately. I did hear it was quite a success, though." He takes a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he starts to relax in his chair. He offers an amused smile at some previous banter between the spouses.

The officer's barracks is not an area that Franklin visits frequently, as the air wing is kept in its own separate section of the ship. As a result, she's not especially familiar with the area and keeps having to check the names at the end of bunks to find the right one — a process she finds frustrating, considering she's already late. Fresh from the showers, too, by the looks of it. Her hair has been bound back in a neat knot, but it's still wet. Still dripping down the back of her neck, even, and running into the collar of the grey sweatshirt she's zipped up over her off-duties.

West looks up at Quorra, and says, "Oh, is that so? Then your marital telepathy is clearly faulty, because we all know that I never misbehave. I am the very model of Colonial Fleet virtue." The engineer sits back and puffs on his pipe with a self-satisfied look about that. "It was a success, yes. It was good to see everyone having a good time."

"That speaks to the stands of Colonial Fleet virtue!" Quorra calls over her shoulder with a toss of her head as she returns to husband's bunk and digs into its drawer. She returns a moment later with West's jury-rigged chilling widget. "Hello Major," she smiles at the CAG. "Nice to see you again. Are you a triad shark by chance? The rest of us were just trying to sort out the rules."

Elias nods his appreciation for the success of the Wests' party, then his eyes glance sildelong over towards the hatch as Atalanta enters. Elias remains slouched in his seat, plucking the cigarette from his mouth and offering a thin smile as he greets the CAG. "Welcome, Major." The young Captain is still in his blues, but the top few buttons are undone.

"A shark? Hardly. I've managed to pull full colors out of my hat once or twice, but it isn't as though I make a habit out of it or anything," the blonde replies, one eyebrow hiking up towards her hairline. They don't quite match; Atalanta's brows are several shades darker, bordering on brown. "But that question sounds like an outright swindle, meant to get me to let my cards down so the rest of you can clean up. So I'm afraid I won't be buying that line, or the lovely bridge you have for sale in Caprica City, no matter how much of a bargain you say it is."

"Property values in Caprica City are a value right now, and mortgage rates are at an all time low. You really should consider the possiblities, Major." West remarks, before looking at Quorra and rolling his eyes at her, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with the Fleet's virtues. Just that you, having not been initiated to them from an early age, fail to appreciate the great philosophy of the system." His tone indicates he's just teasing, and he reaches and takes one of the bottles of homebrew, popping the cap off with a twist of his wrist.

Quorra sets down the chilling apparatus and then blinks wide-eyed as she turns her head to regard Atalanta as if the CAG had just spoken to her using a foreign language. "Swindle? What are you talking about? Captain Grey remarked he was trying to remember how to play, I surely don't remember, I was only asking if you play more often and might help the rest of us get to speed." She takes a step back from the table, still standing, and clasps her hands behind her back and looks uneasily toward the door.

The CAG's response causes Elias' subtle smile to broaden into an appreciative grin. He toes a chair, nudging it out for Atalanta. "Have a seat?" he offers. He looks to the Wests and remarks to them in matter of fact tone. "I think we may be in trouble."

As Elias nudges a chair out for her, she wraps her hand around the back of it to pull it out fully and take a seat. Her legs cross primly at the ankle, and tuck behind the leg of the chair. One hand is held out for the deck of cards. If the rest of them honestly don't know how to play, she may as well deal. "It's a relatively basic game — three levels of cards, three colors. From those, you're trying to build a hand of at least three cards. Thus, obviously, the game is called Triad. Level three cards are the most common, while level one cards are the rarest. Green ranks lowest, then blue, and red is highest."

West looks over at his wife and then stands to pull out the chair for her, "Well, let's just deal the cards and see how it goes. We're all smart people, we'll figure it out. And since we're all off duty, as I said earlier, I'm Seneca."

"I think I'll just watch for now," says Quorra as she finally takes a seat. She crosses one leg over the other and unscrews the cap of one of the bottles of West's homebrew, takes a swig, and then sits back to observe as Atalanta prepares to deal.

Atalanta starts a new game of Triad with Elias and West.
Atalanta deals a new hand.

Elias appends a little to Atalanta's explanation, sitting up and edging his chair closer to the table. "As I recall, you deal out a six card hand, bet, discard and draw, bet again, and then lay your cards on the table." He ashs his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and nods agreement with the Engineer. "Everyone seems to remember my first name, for some reason." When Quorra declines, the Intel Officer mmms and studies her. "Waiting to swoop later?" Then the cards are coming and he gathers them up, rearraning his hand with a bland expression. "50 Cubit limit?" he asks, pulling out his own money and sliding a ten out as his opening bet.

Elias raises the bet to 10.
West calls.

"Sounds fair enough," Atalanta replies as she shuffles and deals the deck. Hardly an expert, but perhaps with far more ease than might be expected, given her generally prim demeanor. "The three kinds of Triads that you can build are small, medium, and large. Small triads are two level three cards and one level two card. Medium triads are three level three cards and two level two cards. Large triads are three level three cards, two level two cards, and one level one card. A large Triad of all the same color is Full Colors, and Full Colors wins the hand."

Atalanta calls.
Elias discards 3 cards.
West discards 2 cards.
Atalanta stands pat and discards nothing.

Elias pays only cursory attention to the details the CAG provides about how to make hands. Instead he fans his cards, looks them over, and then glances around the table at the other players. After taking stock for a moment, he slips three cards off one end of his hand and discards then. He looks vaguely amused as he sorts the replacement cards back in, then he tosses out another bet of 10. "Well," he remarks after making that fairly conservative bet. "Let's at least see where this goes…"
Elias raises the bet to 10.
West raises the bet to 20.
Atalanta raises the bet to 25.
Elias folds.

West gets the cards dealt to him, and looks at them, betting and discarding in his turn, then relighting his pipe. "I'm glad we're having these little get togethers. Otherwise, we all live in our little separate worlds." As the bet is raised, he nods and calls.
West calls.

West's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
R1 ^   R2 ^^  B2 ^^  R3 ^^^ B3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (RED HIGH) - 33 POINTS > 

Atalanta's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
G1 ^   G2 ^^  G2 ^^  G3 ^^^ G3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (GREEN HIGH) - 32 POINTS >

West WINS!!

West deals a new hand.
Atalanta raises the bet to 15.

Elias tosses in his hand when the bet is raised twice, offering an apologetic smile to Atalanta and West as he bows out. He takes a drag off his smoke, watching the hand play out, and he mmmms thoughtfully at West's narrow win as they both show large triads. Then he's back over his cards, frowning slightly as he concentrates.

Elias calls.
West calls.

The woman actually laughs as she loses, to an ostensiby new player. Honestly, it's the apocalypse. What else is she going to do with the money now, anyway? "Excellent hand, Captain. It's all of those red cards that will pile your points on." Atalanta deals a fresh hand, peeking down at her cards before frowning slightly, and piling a small stack of cubits up. Clink. Clink. Clink. She only discards one card.

Atalanta discards 1 cards.
Elias discards 1 cards.
West discards 1 cards.

"Beginner's luck, really." West says, as he also discards only one card. "Now that I've started playing again, I'm starting to remember how this goes. But I'm not sure you can /be/ a triad shark. There's a lot of luck involved."

"I think I'm going to leave the cards to you all, and go get in some more work in the lab." Quorra pushes her chair back and rubs her husband affectionately on the back as she takes her leave of the group. "Thanks for organizing, Elias." She nods to the CAG, "Major," and then plucks up her beer bottle and heads out.

Atalanta raises the bet to 20.

Elias discards one as well, cigarette dangling from his lips as he studies them, and then the other two players in the game. "Bold," is his comment on Atalanta's opening bet. Then he counts up a few Cubits of his own to raise, sliding them quietly into the pot. Belatedly, Elias realizes Quorra is leaving and takes his eyes off the game, offering her an apologetic smile. "Good night. Perhaps next time?"

Elias raises the bet to 25.

West looks worriedly after his wife, half standing, but then resignedly deciding this would probably not be the best time, "I'll talk to you later, dear." he says, before glancing down and then having a sip of beer. He just tosses some money in the pot.

West calls.
Atalanta calls.

Atalanta purses her lips together, looking down at her freshly drawn card first with a furrowed brow, then with a faint smile. Another five cubits into the pile, then. "Goodnight, Lieutenant!," she calls brightly after Quorra. "Hopefully, you can join us next time. A bigger table makes for a better pot."

Atalanta's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
R1 ^   R2 ^^  R2 ^^  R3 ^^^ R3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (RED HIGH) - 33 POINTS > 

Elias's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
B1 ^   R2 ^^  G2 ^^  R3 ^^^ R3 ^^^ G3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (BLUE HIGH) - 31 POINTS > 

West's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
B1 ^   R2 ^^  G2 ^^  R3 ^^^ G3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (BLUE HIGH) - 31 POINTS >

Atalanta WINS!!

"Well, I don't bet," Quorra explains. "Anyway, a pleasant evening to everyone!" She smiles pleasantly and then tips her beer bottle back for a swig as she makes her way out of the barracks.

The cards hit the table, and Elias offers a grudging nod to Atalanta when he sees her hand. "Bold, but well played." He lays out his own large Triad for show, though he's lost this hand. "A pity." Elias puffs on his smoke, exhaling to the side as he prepares for the next hand, and adding Quorra a final nod of farewell. Then he turns towards the CAG. "So what have your pilots had to say about our new friends from Minos, Major?"

Elias deals a new hand.
West raises the bet to 10.

West tosses what seems to have become the usual starting bet into the middle of the table before nodding, "Yes, very well played. These hands have been quite close." He looks to Elias, picks up his pipe again, and says, "The marines probably love them. Bar fights for the asking."

"I was actually discussing it with several of them down in the fitness center before coming up. I'd been expecting a quick run and a shower, when one of my squadron leaders showed up and started asking after them," Atalanta replies, musing over a fresh hand. She rearranges several of them, but still doesn't look particularly pleased. "As soon as Engineering can get us into the cargo ships I saw at Hebe — the AAR was filed months ago, and my gun cam footage is amended — a few of the Raptor crews will be ready to head over for cold landings, to pull whatever's on board. I'm sure we can put it to good use right away, whether we can salvage the ships themselves or not."

Atalanta calls.
Elias calls.
West discards 3 cards.
Atalanta discards 3 cards.
Elias discards 1 cards.

Elias' gaze settles on his cards as the new hand is dealt, then he calls the first bet and awaits his turn to discard. "Civil Affairs isn't my strong suit, but I was wondering if we shouldn't give them their own settlement. Let them govern themselves." He tosses out one discard and takes the replacement. "And enlist as many of them as we can, of course."

West folds.

"Engineering is working on that. I already pulled the DRADIS information from the Hebe mission. It's a rather interesting collection of ships. If the supplies are a priority, I can start there. Otherwise, I was debating trying to reactivate one of the salvage ships first, to expand our capacity to reactivate the others. We'll also probably get substantial supplies off the passenger liners. Though, of course, that means the unhappy task of sending the dead properly to the Lords of Kobol. I haven't been able to track down the Chaplain yet, so I'll probably take it up with medical. Doctor Nadir will bounce around ideas at light speed and eventually come up with something." West talks idly about the mission as he considers his cards and then tosses them into the middle of the table.

Atalanta raises the bet to 10.
Elias raises the bet to 20.

Elias' eyes shift sidelong to West as the Engineer tosses in his cards, and then his gaze shifts to Atalanta and he considers the CAG's bet. Ten. He muses over his cards, then slides out a modest raise, watching to see how Atalanta takes that.

"The Minoans specifically, or all of the civilians? Because the truth is that if we continue pulling people off of Picon, if we move to evacuate anyone else off any of the other Colonies, the population is only going to get bigger, and bigger… and we do have a responsibility to them, having brought them here. But we also don't have enough boots to put on the ground to form a military state and fight a war." The CAG presses her tongue into her cheek, eyes narrowing slightly. It's difficult to say whether it's the bet that's put her off, or the conversation. After all, she was the one who not only ordered, but ran, the second recon of Helios Alpha. She was the one who went sent a mission back to find the people who had disappeared, the ones Shephard had been so willing to abandon. She led the evacuation herself.

Atalanta calls.

Atalanta's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
B1 ^   B1 ^   R2 ^^  R2 ^^  G2 ^^  R3 ^^^
  < NO MIXED (BLUE HIGH) - 1 POINTS > 

Elias's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
R1 ^   B2 ^^  B2 ^^  R3 ^^^ G3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (RED HIGH) - 33 POINTS >

Elias WINS!!

"I think our eventual goal is the liberation of the colonies so that most people can return home." West observes quietly, "However, there will be those who have no home left to go back to. Can one planet hold them all? Especially with the rather primitive conditions we'll be living under, unless we can steal and reclaim enough to build an infrastructure." He sighs, and then says, "The salvage, refinery, and supply ships are all priorities, in my mind, with regards to the fleet. Though if the population continues to grow, something as humble as the waste disposal vessel will be invaluable. Really, I want all those ships. I just need enough tyllium and repair people to get them and jump them back here." He doesn't add this would have been much easier before they turned into a ghost fleet.

Elias sorts his cards before laying out his hand, shooting Atalanta a rueful look when she has nothing. He rakes in the modest pot. "It's not much, but it beats losing," he remarks before returning the subject of the civilians. "Yes," he agrees with the CAG. "I was only thinking of the Minoans, but you're right of course. Something will have to be done if this keeps up." A nod goes towards West as he mentions an eventual return to their home planets. "For those Colonies that survived. But that could be … quite some time from now." The discussion of the now-derelict fleet causes him to press his lips together in a tight line.

And here I thought you were bluffing," she says with a wry smile and a shake of her head. Both of Atalanta's arms stretch upwards, reaching towards the ceiling, fingertips splayed. Her muscles are already starting to cramp from sitting, after her workout. A few more minutes to stretch would've been wise. She sighs once, content once she works a particular twitch out, before starting a new hand "By my count… that means anyone from Canceron, Gemenon, Sagittaron, Virgon, and Troy won't have anything to return to. Possibly Leonis as well, depending on what happens when Virgon breaks apart. Providing we all survive long enough for it to matter, anyway. You ought to look at Persephone, Captain. I pulled the crew from the refueling station there after their CO snapped from the stress of staring the apocalypse in the face, but the station is still intact. Or ought to be, anyway, unless the Cylons have gotten to it since. I imagine they might have a bee in their britches, after the Wing went a blasted one of theirs all the way to Hades, and took a few basestars docked there down with it, too."

Atalanta deals a new hand.
West raises the bet to 15.
Atalanta calls.
Elias raises the bet to 20.

"Really? Hrm. Well, that would add another level of complexity to the project, but if it was shut down properly, it should be easier to recommission than some of the ships, and we will need a source of tyllium going forward. Of course the Hebe fleet won't have any, because if they did…" West's lips pull into a frown and he sighs a bit, then bets, then calls. "Can you have a Raptor take me out there to look?"

West calls.
Atalanta calls.

The mention of Persephone gives Elias a moment of pause, then he goes back to his cards, frowning faintly at what he sees. One last drag on his smoke and he crushes out the butt in the ashtray. "They do seem obsessed with fuel supplies," he says distractedly of the Cylons. "My guess is that they'd rather use it than destroy it." He looks up to see the bet is back to him, and raised. He tosses in even more cubits almost immediately.

Elias stands pat and discards nothing.
West stands pat and discards nothing.
Atalanta discards 1 cards.

Elias raises the bet to 10.

"To where?," Atalanta asks, giving a sidelong glance to Elias at the sound of more coins clinking down on the table. She looks back to West quickly, after tossing in another five of her own. "To the Hebe fleet, or to Persephone? They never shut Persephone down. Not really. Ensign Pertwii would be able to give you more detail, but from what she told me on our way out, the guns were set to full-auto to protect the stores until the station could be properly manned, and it's got enough fuel aboard to fill the tanks for the entire Fleet. Granted, that may have been an exaggeration. She may not have realized how many ships we've got in orbit, but given the size of those tanks? I doubt she was far off. It's only a matter of getting all of it."

West calls.
Atalanta calls.

Elias's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
G1 ^   G2 ^^  B2 ^^  R3 ^^^ G3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (GREEN HIGH) - 32 POINTS > 

West's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
R1 ^   R2 ^^  B2 ^^  R3 ^^^ R3 ^^^ G3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (RED HIGH) - 33 POINTS > 

Atalanta's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
R1 ^   R2 ^^  R2 ^^  R3 ^^^ R3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (RED HIGH) - 33 POINTS >

West WINS!!

West deals a new hand.
Atalanta raises the bet to 5.
Elias calls.

"I'll talk to her about it. If we had a tanker, that would be easier, but I suppose that the refinery ship probably has a fairly high capacity for tyllium and could be used to move it from Persephone back to here. Or to the Hebe Fleet. I was talking about going to Persephone first, because, well, I'm going to need fuel to get those ships." West gets his cards, and glances at them, before calling the bet, "Get the fuel, get the ships, use the ships. That seems to be the order of operations here, unless I'm missing something."

West calls.
Atalanta discards 2 cards.

Elias watches as everyone discards, declining to do so himself. When West does the same he studies the Engineer curiously for a moment, then looks back to his own cards, as if they may have changed in the meantime. He considers, then opens with a token bet, dropping the silver ten-cubit coin into the pot with a clink. "Ensign Pertwii is back on duty," he remarks, his tone just a bit guarded, as the conversation gets around to the senior survivor from Persephone. "In Tactical." The pair of large red hands the others lay down at the end of the hand earn a muted groan of disgust from the young Captain, and send him digging for another cigarette.

Elias discards 2 cards.
West discards 1 cards.

Atalanta raises the bet to 5.
Elias raises the bet to 20.
West folds.

There's a slight sniff, as West collects the pot. Had she counted her points incorrectly? She must've. "Good," Atalanta replies. "I certainly pushed my luck with the old man to keep him from signing those papers, even though I knew she wasn't hearing anything that I said to her, and I knew I wasn't the only one involved." And that seems to be all the CAG has to say about that. "Arrange a crew for you shouldn't take very much. Captain St. Clair seemed quite eager to help our latest band of refugees and if bringing you to the fueling station will do so, well."

Atalanta folds.
Elias WINS!!

Elias deals a new hand.

"Excellent. That seems like a good start, at least." West says, and then is given his new cards. He looks at them, and tosses a few cubits into the pot for the sake of form. "And I'll look the ensign up. Have there been any more recent visits to Helios Alpha since yours? I suppose someone went to reclaim the two military ships." His engineers sense of workmanship shows as he looks rather sour at the thought of that, then takes a bit swig of beer to ease the trouble.

West raises the bet to 10.
Atalanta calls.
Elias calls.

West discards 1 cards.
Atalanta discards 2 cards.

The next hand is over all too quickly, and Elias collects another meager pot. Cards are dealt again, and he checks his new hand quickly, then lays them face down so he can light another cigarette. Elias calls the first bet with apparent unconcern. But once he has his cigarette going, he's back to business. "Perhaps we should have a card game instead of our regular department meeting," he suggests. Because things are getting done, even if he is down a bit of money.

Elias discards 1 cards.
West raises the bet to 5.

"Captain, if there's one thing that I can tell you — as a Franklin — it's that far more business gets done at card tables and in country clubs than in conference rooms. And as far as I can tell, it's always been that way," she says, peeking at Elias from over the top of her cards. The man's smoking. West is drinking. Is she the only one at the table without a vice? Or is it just possible that this is her vice?

Atalanta raises the bet to 10.
Elias folds.
West calls.

The CAG's wisdom is met with a carefully neutral 'mmmm' from Elias, meeting her gaze only briefly over his cards as he considers his next play. With a short sigh, exhaling smoke, the Intel Officer folds and tosses his cards on the table. "I'll take your word for that, Major."

West smokes too - let us not forget the famous trouble causing pipe of doom. But brewing beer is one of his pleasures, so no surprise that he drinks. "I don't know if I can comment on the social strata of the Major, but I can tell you that it's been true for generations of navy officers, too. My father was a mean card player. Grandpa… well, he was just mean. Or so I've heard. Things were different back then, though, the era of jump drives and iron men." He calls and puts his cards together in a triad, using all five. "I suppose we'll have to be hard in this time, too."

West's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
G1 ^   G2 ^^  B2 ^^  R3 ^^^ G3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (GREEN HIGH) - 32 POINTS > 

Atalanta's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
G1 ^   B2 ^^  B2 ^^  R3 ^^^ R3 ^^^ R3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (GREEN HIGH) - 32 POINTS >

West WINS!!

Atalanta deals a new hand.
Elias raises the bet to 10.
West calls.

"A legacy, are you?," Atalanta asks, suddenly more interested in the man than in her cards. She actually sets her hand down, cards folded into a neat stack and left resting on her knee. She leans back, giving West an unabashedly measuring gaze. "My family served in the Caprican Navy for…," she trails off for a second, considering. Counting, more likely. "Seven generations before the First Cylon War. Eight, if you count my grandfather, who served in the Caprican Navy until Unification, when it was folded into the Colonial Fleet. Augustus Franklin." Yes, as in that Augustus Franklin.

Atalanta raises the bet to 15.
Elias folds.
West calls.
West discards 2 cards.

Elias has nothing to say about lineage, though he pays polite attention to the talk as he studies his cards. But no amount of studying makes them look any better, and he folds again as soon as the first raise is called. His eyes shift back and forth, watching West and Atalanta play out the hand while he focuses on his cigarette.

"Fourth generation Navy, yes." West admits, with a grin, "Guilty as charged. Father was in the Colonial Fleet as an engineer, and my grandfather and great-grandfather were both in the Picon navy before Unification. I was a little hellion, though, so I got bundled off to military school before the Academy." He discards, then looks at his cards and puts them down on the table.

Atalanta stands pat and discards nothing.

West folds.
Atalanta WINS!!

West deals a new hand.

When West folds, Atalanta blinks in surprise. Really, she hadn't even been paying enough attention to the hand to discard, at that point. "Oh!," she says, looking a touch chagrined. She slips her cards back into the deck, piling up all of the other abandoned hands, and reshuffles them. "I went to the University of Delphi, myself — my mother's alma mater, and all of my sisters. It was OCS for me." The statement might come as a shock. Given her pedigree, if she'd been interested in attending the Academy on Caprica, it probably would've been as simple as making a call and cutting a check…

Elias retrieves his new hand and considers it, still only seeming to be half-listening to the conversation. But the idea of Atalanta going through OCS does draw his gaze away from the cards to the CAG. Interesting. "Not the Academy? Well, no one can say you didn't earn your way," is his comment. Now to make something useful out of these cards …

Atalanta raises the bet to 10.
Elias calls.
West calls.
Atalanta discards 2 cards.
Elias discards 1 cards.

West lookst at Elias as if he's grown three heads, "And ring knockers haven't?" he asks, with a slight grin before glancing at his cards, calling the bet, and having another sip of beer. "Becoming an officer is hard no matter which way you go. Some of us find the expectation of it harder than the reality, as a matter of fact."

West discards 1 cards.
Atalanta raises the bet to 10.
Elias folds.
West calls.

"No, not the Academy," Atalanta murmurs, furrowing her brow down at her lap. Or her cards. Or perhaps both. "My family was actually quite stubbornly opposed to the idea of me joining the Fleet, but I insisted. The day my papers came through were the day my father filed his with the lawyer, cutting me off." She ought to be bitter about it, really. She very well may be, as she soon follows it with a murmured, "For all the good it's done him."

Elias returns West's look with a mild one of his own, brows arched questiongly. "I wasn't trying to make a generalization. Sorry. Just speculating about the Major's motives." His eyes go back to his cards after he draws, and he frowns faintly. Not good. Once again he folds, though without much expression this time. Elias nods thoughtfully as Atalanta sets the record straight. "I see," is his only comment.

"Oh, I know. I was just being difficult. We ring knockers have to stick together." West winks, and arranges his cards, waiting for the CAG to do the same. His lips draw into another tight line at Atalanta's story, but he refrains from any comment on family business.

Atalanta's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
G1 ^   R2 ^^  B2 ^^  R3 ^^^ R3 ^^^ G3 ^^^
  < LARGE MIXED (GREEN HIGH) - 32 POINTS > 

West's Triad:
----------------------------------------------
G2 ^^  B2 ^^  B3 ^^^ B3 ^^^ B3 ^^^
  < MEDIUM MIXED (GREEN HIGH) - 22 POINTS >

Atalanta WINS!!

Well! Look at that. She may well end the night up after all. She neatly pulls her winnings towards her, sorting them into a small stack with the rest of her bank. "You may want to look up Captain Smythe," she advises West, after a moment's consideration. "A legacy from Picon, too. Both of his parents, and his older brother. His mother was in engineering, I think, and may well have served with your father, at some point. Unlikely, given the scope of our forces during the First Cylon War, but not impossible. I've known him for… gods, almost ten years now? He's a good man, so long as you can get him talking about anything besides velocity and vectors."

West laughs, "Okay. I'll give it a try. Maybe he can get me to talk about something other than thrusters and jump drives." The engineer checks his chrono, "I have to get some rack time. First watch in the morning." He pushes his chair out, and says, "Thanks for a good game. I'll study up for next time, Major."

Elias' expression doesn't change a great deal, even when it's clear West was just giving him a bad time. He settles back in his chair again, leaving his cards on the table when it looks like the game is going to break up. "Try not to spend all my money in one place," he advises both the other players. "We'll have to do this again. So I can win some back."

Atalanta blinks a few times, then actually starts to laugh. It's not something which she does often — at least, not if they ask the men under her command. "I'm sure I'll manage to save it, somehow," comes her quick retort. "It will be quite the temptation, what with all the fine shopping to be had in Sheridan and an extra ten cubits burning a hole in my pocket. But it'd only be sporting to give you a chance, Captain, so I will try my utmost to keep hold of it in the meantime."

"But think of all the hazard pay we're accumulating. Somewhere. If the fleet still has payroll records." West observes, with a wry grin, "But yes, any time, Captain." And with that, he toddles off to find his rack and get some sleep.

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