AWD #528: Mess Games
Mess Hall - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Summary: Two deckies and a pilot eat, share tales, and invent a dumb game.
Date: 01/12/2016
Related Logs: None
Niamh Toby Brandon 
Room Name
The Crew Mess on the battlestar is one of the larger rooms meant for occupation. The room is far longer than it is wide with the classic stainless steel tables that can be seen anywhere else on the ship, standard to all navy ships. Most of the chairs match, their padding on the seats worn down after several years. Towards the rear of the room is the food prep area and serving lines. During the time in between meals the Mess will serve midrats, or 'mid-shift rations', such as sandwiches and drinks. Coffee pots are left to run at all hours to keep people going as needed.
AWD #528

The shifts have been… endless. Niamh can't remember the last time she got a decent number of hours of sleep. It's probably just as well she doesn't require much food in order to keep going. But she's in the Mess now, still in her coveralls. It looks like she came straight from the Hangar, and it's possibly there's more grease on her than the machines she's been fixing. At least her hands are clean. She's sitting at a table off the main thoroughfare, her bright red hair pulled back in something resembling a ponytail, picking idly at a sandwich with one hand while her other wields a pencil over her ever-present notepad.

If Niamh has been crazy busy, Toby has been crazy board. With the vastly depleted wing there just aren't enough birds to go around tech wise, and with his wrist still strapped up he's been automatically discounted from the roster. Not that that would usually matter too much, as he's got a good head for damage control too, but they need people with two working hands, so he's mostly just been trying to find ways to keep himself busy. Right now he's in his off-duties, holding one side of a tray with his good hand, and balancing the other on his lower arm. It's not elegant, but it works. Spotting Niamh he heads over and invites himself to sit diagonally opposite so they can still talk, but he has space under the table to stretch his legs. "Callaghan," he greets simply, then eyes the food before him with faint suspicion.

It takes a moment for Niamh to pull away from her thoughts. She blinks and looks tired as she stares at Toby, dark rings under her eyes, cheeks slightly hollowed out. "Yeah…. the food's all slim pickings." Not that she seems to mind too much. Foods not a big thing in her life. "How's the arm?" She tilts her head slightly in the direction of the casted arm.

"Gone from painful to achy and annoying," Toby replies, looking none too enthused, "can't really be sure which is worse." He doesn't complain too much though, at least he's still here to grumble. "Chief keeping you busy? Id've figured with such loses that there'd too many techs per ship to work us flat out? I guess though if we really are about to retake Leonis then they can't afford to wait." Aware he's largely answered his own question he adds, "any issues with new crews we've picked up?" The fleets escort carrier was destroyed after all, so there's displaced flyers about.

The Mess is emptier than Brandon is used to. Ok, it's not sheer numbers…but the mix of uniforms has changed and that stands out to him as he makes his way through, looking for a table. It takes him a moment to process that at the moment there simply /isn't/ an Air Wing table to be had: Between scattered schedules and the usual handful of pilots out on patrol at any given moment, there simply aren't enough of them left to fill up the tables they would have a week ago. It's just another reminder… So, with that, Brandon settles on a Deck-heavy table as his next-best bet today. "Hey, uh…mind if I join?"

"Yeah… always busy. Mostly doing inventory and maintenance." She shrugs lightly, "It's better than being stuck in barracks doing nothing." Niamh picks at a bit of her sandwich and looks down at her notepad, her pencil adding a little to the design that's winding it's way around the paper. "I…." She starts, then pauses as Brandon comes over to their table. She shakes her head, suddenly stiffening up a little, because… Officer. "Of course not, Sir. There's plenty of space." The pencil is dropped in favour of reaching for her water, lifting the bottle to take a sip. "Mostly just inventory," She continues to Toby, not revisiting what she was about to say…

Toby finds himself with no strong feelings either way when Brandon asks, so he just gestures vaguely towards a selection of free chairs. He knows the ensign by sight but not much more so struggles to find something to say to him before settling on, "they told you when we're hitting Leonis yet? I heard it was Leonis anyway. Had been hoping to get back to P at least briefly, but looks like we aren't from what I can tell." Officers might get told more stuff than junior ratings after all. Niamh gets a nod, "important work," he remarks, "boring as frak, but important."

Niamh nods, but keeps silent when Toby starts questioning the Ensign. She's not really familiar with the young guy but listens for the answer anyway. Her fingers break apart the bread that makes up her sandwich, making neat little piles, separating out the filling and making sure nothing touches on her tray. Another sip of water and a nibble of bread. "Yeah… it is boring, but I don't mind. I like the order and routine of it." Of course, OCD person that she is.

Brandon looks at Niamh and forces a smile as he sits. "Relax. At ease. Something like that." He then tosses Toby a smile. "Well, we did our best to keep you busy with those landings on the last day…" His own landing was nothing pretty, but he'd walked away. "No, they haven't told me when. Not precisely, anyway, only that it'll be soon." Which is true enough: As far as he knows, Command is still hashing out the details. "If you think an Ensign knows more than you…" He sighs and shrugs, picking up his sandwich to graze on it. "…we really don't."

Toby doesn't have his own pips on, due to being in his off-duties, so he points to Niamh's instead in answer to Brandon. "You might be the junior-most officers, but we're the junior-most ratings. Chief probably knows, as far as anyone does at least, but us? Nope." Picking at his food rather than eating it at anything approaching a normal speed he flicks Niamh a glance, then nods, "I can see that. Just don't let them always send you down or people'll take advantage and use you to get out of it when it's their turn."

Niamh shrugs, "I don't mind." And she really doesn't. A small smile is offered in Toby's direction, even smaller when it lands on Brandon. "Hopefully we can be ready. We need to get that Rhino fixed up…" The smile disappears and she tucks her pencil into her messy ponytail, and pulls out a different one, once more going back to adding some more design to her drawing on the notepad beside her tray. Then she nibbles on a bit of sandwich filling, and follows that with a bit of the bread.

Brandon thinks that over. "Ok, fair enough…" he says, though his mouth is half-full of sandwich as he does, so it sounds more like 'Mmmf, frr rnugh'. Gulp. "Yeah…if I knew /and/ I could tell you, I would. But you'll probably find out about the same time I do. You might even get the drop on me if you start getting deadlines to finish work." Beat. "I wish we'd gotten a break, too, but this is a good window to hit Leonis. Or something like that." Because of /course/ the best time to mount an offensive is right after the worst victory in Colonial history. "I'm just hoping I get to nuke some more canners."

Toby lets the point go with a shrug to Niamh as he continues to use his one good hand to pick at his food. "You flown again yet?" he asks Brandon, "I'm guessing he vipers are being kept busy with CAP, but are you guys?" There's also a nod concerning the rhino, that was certainly not comfortable to be in when it came down but he can at least note cheerfully, "at least there's three more of them, never know, might pick up more on Leonis." Brandon then gets a thoughtful look as he asks, "how many more nukes do we have? We used a lot, and they're not exactly something we can pick up at any old forgotten ammo dump. Just hope we still have enough. Got to admit though, I'm surprised it Leonis. I mean, it makes sense in a way, what with Virgon gone once it's liberated then that’s all of Helios Beta, but with people poking about on both Libran and Scorpia of late I thought we might go to Gamma, or frak it, go finish off on Aerlion."

"We really need to pick up some more pilots, too." Niamh notes, mostly to herself. "And maybe some Raptors. Vipers are easy since we can build them. But we need pilots to fly them…" She shakes her head slightly, sounding really sad for a moment. The notepad gets flipped to a new page and her pencil starts working again, this time a new design. "I haven't really been keeping up much with what and where. Just trying to keep the birds flight-worthy and our inventory. Which looks atrocious…" She bites her lip and looks worried as she reaches for her water. A look goes to Toby and it's almost like she wants to ask something, but decides now's not really the time and instead goes back to her doodling.

Brandon shrugs. "I'm pretty sure we've at least got a few left. Actually…I /know/ we've got at least two left…" He grouses…one of the pilots didn't deploy their nukes in the last round against the Basestars. And then Niamh makes a comment about needing more pilots. "No frakking shit, you think?" There's a sudden edge to Brandon's voice; he stops himself by tactically taking another bite of his sandwich to shut himself up.

Toby is about to reply to Nimah when Brandon's outburst earns the pilot a sideways warning glance. Given the recent losses he leave it at that though. Back to Niamh he nods slowly, "yeah, we'll've picked up some from the Rubaul, but I’ve not seen numbers. You ever thought about giving it a go? We've got a tradition of deckies getting bumped up." Well, there's Kelsey, that’s like having a tradition. "Two nukes is better than no nukes," he notes with a shallow nod, "I wonder if we've already taken out whatever basestars were at Leonis, or if we get to do that all over again in a few days or weeks."

"What?" Niamh looks surprised, "Me? A pilot?" She actually laughs, "Nooo… I don't think so. I like fixing the birds, not flying them, thank you very much." Her eyes go wide and there's a slightly horrified expression on her face at the idea. Shaking her head once more, she drops her pencil and rubs her hands over her face. "If only we could've gotten to…. well… I guess it's a moot point now."

Brandon shoots a glance right back at Toby, barely dissuaded from his outburst and frankly not feeling a lot of shame at it. His look can best be summed up as saying 'deal with it'. He does, however, take a moment to calm down. "Sorry about that. Look, I'm basically going back to an empty room full of bunks every night." He does listen to Niamh as she muses over the (apparently moot) point. "Could've gotten to what?"

"I reckon you could do it," Toby replies to Niamh, although his tone is one of light conversation rather than a serious attempt to persuade her. He's largely stopped picking at the food in front of him now, having eaten about half of it, and raises an eyebrow at Niamh's aborted comment. Since Brandon has asked though he simply waits for the reply, although it takes a whole lot of willpower not to retort back to the Ensign that he's not the only one.

Niamh just shakes her head, "Nothing… not anything I can really talk about, right now." She purses her lips and actually blushes, then flinches slightly and changes tack, "Well, and so could you. Be a pilot I mean," Now she's just teasing the grumpy Crewman, though it's slightly hesitant, like she's trying something new.

Brandon actually nods somewhat sympathetically towards Niamh. Swallowing another bite of his food, he forces something of a smile. "I'm sure either of you could if you wanted to. I mean, I made it." He's trying to be light but he's also rather serious. Still, he looks down at his food and pokes at it for a moment. "Look, I'm…I've got to go iron my dog." He mutters this, suddenly /not/ in the mood for light conversation that could veer back onto the topic of how /wonderfully/ the battle went for Air Wing.

Toby laughs, actually genuinely laughs at Niamh's comment. "Yeah, right," he replies, in that wonderful construction in standard where a double positive equals a negative. "I've about as much chance of being accepted by the wing as I have of marrying a marine! Besides, officers can go frak themselves," he pauses long enough to glance to Brandon, "present company excluded of course. I've, how would they put it, not got the correct attitude, officers have to set an example for use mere enlisted to follow, not have records like mine."

Niamh laughs and shakes her head slightly. "Nah… you'd be more likely to become a pilot than even be friends with a marine… let alone marry one." She blushes a bit, then shrugs. "Not all officers are that bad. I mean, some are okay." She offers Brandon a tentative smile then looks away quickly and reaches for her water, using it as a distraction from her own vague embarrassment.

"Gee, thanks guys…". There's a slightly sarcastic edge to Brandon's voice, but this time it's clearly more in good fun than anything. "Besides, I'm not sure I'm the best example around anyway…"
Huh? (Type "help" for help.)

"Point," Toby concedes to Niamh with an amused grin, "I mean, marines, ugh." Pushing his tray forward so he has space to rest his arms on the edge of the table he glances to Brandon, then back to Nimah. "Okay then, new game, worst person onboard to become a pilot, and why? I'll start with Major Gray, he won't be able to smoke in a flightsuit and it'll make him even more grumpy."

"How about /any/ of the Marines?". Brandon smirks. "They'd probably have trouble figuring out which way was up if the gravity cut out."

"Oh I don't know… some of the marines are pretty smart," Niamh replies. "I mean, I think Sarn't Kapali could probably fly if push came to shove." She smiles and thinks a minute or two. "Um… I wonder if Commander Jameson could fly a Raptor… or a Viper, for that matter…" It's a genuine question, that. She'd really like to know, and gives both Toby and Brandon a curious look

Toby smirks back at Brandon, giving the younger man a slow, approving nod at his suggestion. As for Kapali, well, he just shrugs faintly "well, technically anyone can fly if you apply enough thrust. No idea on the Admiral though, I'd say check his uniform for wings, but I doubt I'd recognise him if he walked through the door." Not unless they got really close and he couldn't help but notice the pips on his collar. Back to the game though, "Captain Tremaine from engineering, you'd never be able to pry her clipboard away from her so she could use the controls."

"Hmmm…" Niamh taps a finger against her chin as she thinks… "Doctor Nadir. I think the grease would scare her…" She nods to the answer on the Admiral though and probably makes a mental note to find out, should the opportunity ever arise. She reaches for her water, taking a sip, then nibbles on a bit of the bread she's got broken up on her plate.

"Ooo," Toby replies with an impressed face, "strong game there Callaghn. Hmmm." His brow furrows in thought as he tries to work out where he can go from there. To fill time he asks, "did anyone ever tell you about the Nine we used to have in the wing here by the way? When news first broke and we thought they were cylons, command kept her flying, so someone," he's naming no names' painted over the name on her viper and replaced it with a number 9. CAG at the time went apeshit, but then shortly after he ran off with a raptor after it turned out he'd not being doing the recce flights he'd been ordered too, so frak him and his opinions."

"Oh?" Niamh blinks, "I didn't know that. Obviously happened long before I got here. I haven't met any of the lines, I don't think. At least not personally. Probably seen one or two in passing. But I try not to look at folks that out rank me a lot, or are Officers." She looks down at her plate, carefully nudging the food around until it's all equal distances apart. Her head tilts slightly as something occurs to her, "That sounds like something you'd do, actually." Her lips quirk into a slight smile.

Toby doesn't answer that, but the flash of a smirk that Niamh gets in reply should probably answer any doubts she has on the subject. "We had a big fight with airwing over her," he tells, "inthe corridor outside medical where she was being held at the time. We weren't going there to frak her up, just hitting the mess or something, I don't remember exactly, but a group of pilots pitched up and started giving us shit, so we gave it back. You should have seen Dio, ended up going toe to toe with an officer from engineering. He was a twat too mind, left not long after the CAG disappeared, no great loss." Fun times. Another glance at his plate and he's fairly certain he isn't going to eat any more so he starts to push himself to his feet. "Time I wasn't here, important sitting around to do. See you later Callaghan."

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