ALT #416: Looking at Stars
Looking at Stars
Summary: Song and Phin run into each other in the Obs Deck.
Date: 26/02/2014 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Phin Song 
Obs Deck
The Obs Deck is one of the more quiet areas on the Orion where people can come to get away from the hustle and bustle that goes with of the rest of duty on the ship. The front of the room is a very large armored glass window to allow a dominating view of whatever is out ahead of the Battlestar. Seats rise up at even levels, plush chairs and couches provided for the crew to relax in. During Condition One an armored plate is lowered down to cover the view and prevent the room from becoming a hazard and seal tight.

Day and night don't have any real meaning aboard a battlestar, but it's getting into the later shifts, and many of the crew are now at their leisure for several hours. Phin is among them, and he's killing time on the Obs Deck. He's parked on a sofa near one of the viewports. There's a book in his lap, but he's paying more attention to watching the stars - and the planet of Piraeus they sit in orbit above.

Martin Song has not been seen out and about on the ship all that often. He's certainly been a constant presence in the sick bay, and now he's out at the Obs Deck too. He arrives with a book tucked under his arm, but seems more absorbed by the sheaf of papers in his other arm.
"Oh, hello Lieutenant," Martin says as he enters. "Hell of a view tonight, huh?"

Phin is a combat pilot, so he's seen the inside of Sickbay now and again. Not as often as your standard Marine - or even most of his flight mates - but he has to make the occasional trip. So he vaguely recognizes the man. He turns his head, offering him a polite inclination of his head. "Oh, Doctor Song. Hey. Yeah. I always think I'll get tired of it one of these days but, not yet." The book, and the papers, are eyed kind of curiously. The book he's non-reading, for his part, is a beaten leather thing from the library on the (First) Cylon War.

While for his part, Martin's book looks fresh and in good shape, as if from a private collection. He sets the papers down and puts the book on top of them to keep them in place, presumably, before flopping into a seat nearby. "Yeah, I can't imagine getting tired of this. But then, I imagine there's something different about people like you and me - drew us out to deployments like this."

Phin shrugs. "Yeah. When I put in for the post, eighteen months on deep space deployment kind of appealed," he admits. With maybe a little regret. "That was before…well, everything, though." Killer robots, end of the worlds, all of that. "This was my first assignment. I mean, not counting Academy and flight school and stuff. Just got my wings a couple months before I came aboard."

Martin raises his eyebrows and takes a breath. "Ah, I'm sorry. First assignment… Well you lucked out then. Not everyone takes to ship life. This was my first long term deployment, but I spent some time on different ships early in my career. You're…" Song thinks for a moment, trying to place a thought. "You're in a Viper, yes?"

"I've moved around a lot most of my life, so the idea of being on a military schedule suited me just fine. Didn't figure I'd spend more than a couple years here. Who knows now, though." At that last question, Phin nods. "Yeah, I fly with the Seven-Seven-Seven squadron. Lucky Strikes. Phin McBride. Callsign Dolly." He's had the nickname long enough to give it without any particular shame, though he quickly adds, "Only other pilots call me that, though, mostly."

Martin listens to Phin's explanation nodding, and then snap-points when Phin says his name. "McBride, that's it. I remember you were in last month for the blood vessel thing in your eye, right?" He turns sideways in his chair to drape a leg over one arm of the chair to turn and face Phin.

Phin winces at the memory, idly rubbing at his eye without seeming to realize he's doing it. "Yeah. Flying in atmosphere is a bitch. It's like a kick to the skull when you're going in and out. Vipers do best in space, but we've been helping out with patrols over Picon, so can't really be helped sometimes." He sits up a little straighter from his comfortable slouch. Again, without quite seeming to realize he's doing it.

"I can't imagine," Martin says, grinning and rubbing at his beard. "I'll leave that business to you guys. I get airsick on anything in atmo. It's ships or ground for me. Would be nice to cut out the in-between parts, for me." Martin shifts to sit a little more squarely in his chair, putting his feet up on the little footrest nearby. "What are you reading there, McBride?"

"Oh, this?" Phin taps the front of the book. "It's about the Armistice. Well, parts of it are. Not as much of it as I was hoping. The library on the ship isn't very extensive. I've been trying to do some research for the CAG on the worlds we gave up to the Cylons after the First War. See if there's anything there that could be useful strategically." He does more wincing at the concept of airsickness. "Pretty much everybody pukes their first time in a sim. You get used to it, though. Or you wash out. Thankfully, I got used to it."

Martin smiles knowingly and says, "Well, plenty of would-be-surgeons puke after their first cadaver. I'd say the same thing about washing out there. Either you get it or you don't. It's weird thing to get used to though, I'll say that much." Martin shakes his head and then cocks it slightly to one side. "Strategy, huh? That sounds like a good idea. You know what they say: those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it. Good for you for doing the research."

"I was a military history major back in my Academy days. I enjoy it. I mean, kind of." Phin is well aware that sounds nerdy. "Most of the time. My eyes are kind of starting to glaze over now." Hence the zoning out and watching the planet spin. "I might back it in, actually. Get some rack time before I'm due on patrol again. I'm not really getting anything done." He sounds vaguely frustrated, and frowns at the book, though it's probably not really it's fault.

"Hey, you don't have to apologize for enjoying academic pursuits around me," Martin says with a smile. "I was the guy who actually /liked/ chem and bio in school." The off-duty doctor chuckles and nods. "I understand if you need to go though. I'm off tomorrow morning so I actually get to sit up late reading for once." He frowns at the papers and adds, "Assuming I can actually stay focused. I trying to finish a novel for once. But goodnight Lieutenant! Rest well."

"Night, Doctor," Phin says politely, stretching into a standing position, and then striding out of the Obs deck and off into the corridors of the ship.

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