LEAP: Crandall Families' Day 2026
Crandall Families' Day 2026
Summary: Diaz and Amos are reunited for the first time in twenty years.
Date: 05/04/2017
Related Logs: None
Amos Diaz 
Aircraft Apron - Crandall
Flight line filled with static displays and birds, hangers filled with stalls, games, etc.
Summer 2026

It's been a while since Amos was on Picon, most of his time these days is spent on Caprica, or Libran, but with the level of fleet activity at Crandall there's always something to bring him back there. Today it's a co-ordination meeting regarding a plan to root out an APF cell that's suspected of moving into Marlin City, but happily, it also coincides with the base families’ day. Security is tight on the perimeter, but a few of the hangers have been given over to stalls and games, with a selection of colonial craft out on the tarmac for kids to have their photos in the cockpits and such. The atmosphere is jovial, all ranks are mixing freely, and the sun is shining. What more could you want? Having only aged three years of the past twenty Amos still manages to look about the right age to be the father of the trio of sprogs that are queuing for ice cream beside him, but the clincher is the looks. His son is a splitting image, although his daughters clearly won out in the genetic lottery and take after their mother who's currently looking for someone to take picture for them while they're all together.

Moving through the crowd, and causing a little stir every once in a while and sometimes not at all, Ensign Diaz makes her way around the games and carnival like festivities with the ease of one who knows how to chart a course through a crowd. One hand is curled around a bottle of water that is nearly empty and, as such, is drained before being tossed into the recycle bin that is marked for such things. Her height, while not at all an advantage even on the best of days, means that she pauses from time to time to step up onto a stacked pallet or other handy foothold before altering course accordingly until she is in the right time in the absolute right place to step up and offer to take the picture. "I'd be happy to, Ma'am," her gaze shifting forward to sweep a glance over the children and Amos then back around with a smile, "do you want candids or posed?"

"Thank you Ensign," Amos replies as a huddle with the two adults at the back and three little ones in front is hastily formed to ensure they don't hold up the line too long. There's a brief debate between the two youngest about if there should be a viper in the background, or a rhino, but the reminder that squabblers don't get ice cream seems to calm it down. Once the picture is snapped the marine moves to take the camera back while the rest move a couple of steps closer to the promised reward. He recognises Diaz's face of course, but not her in and off herself. "Having a good time?" he asks conversationally, using a free hand to give a vague sweeping gesture to indicate the general festivities, "turn out seems to be good."

Snapping several photos in the attempt to get the best options in the limited time, Diaz hands the camera back with a nod paired with a smile that's tempered with the serious expression on her face. She'd noted the recognition, but turns her attention to the general festivities along with a nod. "It's nice to see so many service members with their families in attendance. Some of the games and such are a mystery, but the children seem to greatly enjoy it. The face painting table," she indicates with a nod, "has a line that is no less than a dozen deep all day. Fascinating, sir, genuinely fascinating."

Amos's brood seem a little old for facepainting thankfully, but he nods in agreement anyway. "I suspect they will start to dissipate after the flight display in an hour or so, that is what most people stay for. I have not checked which squadrons are involved this year I must admit, but I am guessing yours is not?" She's not in her flightsuit after all, so he figures it's a safe bet. "How are you finding the viper? I have more of a soft spot for the raptor myself, but then they have carried me into an out of enough firefights in my time it's hard not too." He glances down the tarmac a little to a spot in front of one of the hangers where he was almost killed by a sniper, but luckily was stood next to a med-evac raptor at the time, so made it back to Orion in time for the surgeons to save him. It's not a memory he shares though, blinking it away instead and turning back to the ensign, "they tried to get me to give a speech you know, once someone in admin worked out I was going to be here, had to tell them I was busy on vital duties and tragically could not."

Nodding to support his correct read on the assignments of squadrons, "No sir. My squadron was back up for the one that's ultimately won the slot for the show today," said with a bit of competitive pride and a bit of lingering amusement on how the assignment was ultimately sorted/won. "And the Viper's are a delight, in many aspects, and the adrenaline rush that accompanies each flight should be considered addictive," again, the subtle inflection of humor before she angles a sidelong look at Amos and turns slightly after a moment. "Speaking in public is something that I loathe, personally, all these people just staring? It's very unnerving. That said, I imagine that anything you'd chose to say to a crowd of any size would be memorable. I confess, I made it a point of finding you, sir, in this crowd, once word had spread that there was a better than odds chance that you'd be in attendance. I do not mean to intrude, I promise, I merely wanted a chance to actually meet you, not just carry the memory of your voice and your words."

"In many ways," Amos states as he turns slightly to eye the birds on the flight-line, "I am a terrible staff officer. Give me a rifle and some mud and I am as happy as they come. Crowds like this though are not too bad, everyone gets it, everyone is having fun, and largely it does not matter what you say," he flashes a grin then adds, "so long as you do not go on so long that you delay the flying of course. Press conferences though," he fakes a shudder, "or media briefings, whatever the lingo is these days. I would rather be at the front facing live fire. Much friendlier atmosphere." Her confession is met with one eyebrow rising slightly in consideration and curiosity before he nods slowly, "I hope I was not cussing too harshly at the time Ensign? Or at least if I was then it was warranted."

The look on Diaz's face alters to one that is both recognition and ultimately understanding as Amos outlines his preferences between getting shot at and speaking in front of a crowd. "You know, some branches of the military still speak of press as 'range finders'?" she wonders, humor shading her voice before she shakes her head. "Not at all, at least, not in my recollection. I was there, on Libran, twenty years ago by your reckoning of time, and it was your words over the loud speaker that altered the destiny of myself and the others of my line. You did not, could not, have known me, then, but your words were truth, and that truth was enough to change our course. I asked for asylum, meaning for all of my line, and my last memory before being awakened again was of your words and of being executed for daring to speak of them. And for that, for freeing us, I wanted to personally say thank you and, if you will allow, I would shake your hand."

Amos remembers the mission clearly enough, although the expression that crosses his face as he does so is bittersweet. So much was lost that day, but other things were gained. Like the Ensign stood in front of him for example. Apparently more than happy to oblige the request he turns back so he's fully facing her once more and offers his hand without hesitation. "I remember the request," he replies simply, "and I am glad that I can say I helped, even if only in some small way. You and your sisters are making an invaluable contribution." Cracking a teasing smile though he adds clearly in jest, "shame you joined the navy though, but I guess we can not all be perfect."

With a look on her face that is bittersweet, Diaz sets her hand in his for a moment, exchanging a firm handclasp, and feels a smile form on her face that is sort of rueful and amused at the same time. "I was born to fly, if those words are ones I can actually use," she adds with a sort of laugh. "And it did help. Believe me when I say that. I'm not the only one who carries this memory, though it has been shared with the others of my line if they choose to look for it. Freedom, won, freedom chosen, and it makes all the difference in the world. So that, also, is another reason I wanted to thank you, personally."

Amos has an equally firm handshake, it's not the one he's been forced to adopt when working large crowds, but his genuine meaningful one. "I am not going to object to you using whatever terminology you like," he replies with a slow shake of his head, "you have earnt it, you and your brothers and sisters." Well, apart from One, but he's a dickhead, so the less said about him the better. "It sounds self-depreciating I know, but if it had not been me then it would have been one of my officers. We thought the Fives would be the hardest to convince, but I guess your isolation meant that it was you we spoke with last. Thank you though, for your service, that means a lot, that it is not just the more combat orientated lines that are signing up. I wish you clear skies Ensign, and enough tales of daring do to entertain your squadron mates."

The somewhat bohemian incarnation of this Ten offers a sunny smile as she glances upward into the clear skies that will, shortly, be host to an aerial display that will rattle cups, set off vehicle alarms, make small children cry and others to dream. "Clear skies, a prevailing wind, and years in which to build memories of my own to someday share," the young ensign shares this sentiment with a bit of a sigh and a smile on her face that is both happy and somewhat dreamy at the same time before she lowers her eyes to study Amos once more, as though fixing his image in her memory as a solid moment in time. "Thank you, sir. For everything. I hope you and your family enjoy the day," she adds before she angles a firm nod at Amos then waves to a fellow squadron mate and leaves Amos and his family to the festivities.

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