AWD #157: No Rest for the Wicked
No Rest for the Wicked
Summary: Dio and Toby try to relax. Sera has other ideas.
Date: 12/Jun/2013
Related Logs: None
Toby Diomedes Sera 
Battlestar Orion — Deck 3 — Rec Room
With several smaller rec rooms spread throughout the ship, this one is the largest by far and is the primary recretion location aboard the ship. Longer than it is wide, with several hatches in and out, the room is divided by load-bearing beams that section it off into even thirds. There are a dozen tables, couches, and coffee tables set up — though all of the tables and chairs are the drab metal of the rest of the fleet. The couches seem to have been purchased privately and moved in here at some point in the past, heavy use and careful patching evident. Magazines are strewn around randomly, as are racks of books, plus a couple flatscreen televisions set up. Along one wall are several billiards tables, along with a bar for coffee and snacks.
AWD 157

Toby hasn't been spending much time in the Rec Room of late, but right now he's apparently stopped by to grab a quick beer and maybe watch a vid, depending on who's around and what they're watching. THe room itself is fairly quiet, although there is an ongoing Triad match which seems to involve a large number of supply clerks.

Dio could rather often be found in the Rec Room, a snack in hand, he read a book while he claimed an entire sofa to himself. Why? Flight Wing and Marines be damned, that's why. Someone was getting his comfort on- Sweat pants on, Dio's snuggly and cuddly and ready to rock out.. To some literature.

There's the tell-tale crack of the hatch opening, before Sera pokes her head inside. Obviously not here to stay, she's just here to look for a few people she's been trying to hunt down. Sure, there's the ship-wide comm system, but a manhhunt across a Mercury-class battlestar is a good excuse to stretch her legs after spending her morning on her back, crammed in under a Raptor that needed it's fuel lines checked yet again. "Hey! Slackers!"

Toby opens his beer and takes a sip as he starts to look through the vid options. Still on his feet he glances across to the hatch and gives Sera a brief nod of acknowledgement and greeting, before tossing his bottlecap at Dio, "Hey, Chief wants you."

"Whaaaaat?" Dio asks then, as he looks over to Sera, "Oh. Hey, Serbear." he says, giving a wave of salty snacks. "What's the situation, then?" he asks, as he shifts to open up some couch space, book put to the side.

"You, too, Shacks," Sera retorts, quite likely bursting the man's bubble with that announcement. She rolls her eyes — hard — before she strides into the room and parks herself down on a coffee table in front of Diomedes. "I've got something for the both of you. A few somethings, actually. Sit." With a single grey-tinged finger, she points to the end of the couch. Apparently, Specialist Lounge-a-Lot is going to have to make some space to accommodate.

Toby grins briefly at Dio before noting Sera'sno nonesense attitude and heading over. With his beer in one hand he starts to drag a chair over before noting the space being made on the settee and aiming for that instead. "What's up?"

"So." Dio says, giving Sera a bit of an eye. "What's all this then?" he wonders as he nods towards Toby, but focused on Sera. "Seems sort of official."

"That's because it is. But you'll have to pardon me if I'm not particularly keen on havin' some snooty ceremony out on the deck for everyone to see; people have got work to do an' I don't much feel like getting bulldozed by a forklift because I was too busy tryin' not to prick my fingers on your collars," she says as she slides a hand into the pocket of her green fatigues. Out comes a small jewelry box, which she sets down in front of Toby. "You ain't the FNG anymore. Congratulations."

Toby takes another sip of his beer as Sera starts to explain, then eyes the box as it's produced. Setting the beer down on the table he reaches for it, asking as he does so, "FNG? Is that basically what I think it is or some actual military acromin?"

"It means you're not the frakin' new guy, Toby." Dio says, as he leans back- eyeing boxes. "This shit better not come my way, Specialist Alexios is happy being special, and off any lists with fancy titles or shit." he says, giving Sera a bit of an eye.

Sera doesn't say anything to Dio. Not at first. She simply arches a brow. Stinkeye can't undo paperwork that's already been put through, after all. Apparently, she's under the impression that pins work like Oreo cookies that need to be protected from little brothers. Once licked, no one else will want them. In this case, once Dio touches them, he's stuck with them. She doesn't offer him the box. She tosses it at him. Catch it or get beaned. He doesn't have a choice. "Try not to get too excited, Alexios. In those pants, everyone'll see."

Toby tilts his head briefly to Dio, "yeah, thats what I thought." He opens his box to take a look, but doesn't make any move to do anything with them, turning instead to watch Dio and Sera's exchange, a faint smile touching the edges of his features. Shaking his head, obviously amused at that last comment he closes his box again and stuffs it safely into a pocket before nodding to Sera, "thanks. Although does that mean beers are on us now?"

Tonk! "Ow!" Dio shouts, catching the pins mid forehead. "Damnit!" he shouts, opening the little box. "What's this crap?!" Perhaps the only guy on the whole ship who isn't excited about going up in Rank- Dio just gives the pins a little shake of his head. "Man, now I have to go and be responsible for a bunch of other idiots." Idiots like him.

"Well, yeah," Sera retorts to Toby. "Why else do you think I agreed to this?" Somehow, she manages to keep a straight face. For all of, like, three seconds. And then she just starts laughing. "Petty Officer's pins. You get to wear big boy pants now, instead of goin' to school in those little shorts and high-socks ensembles you love so much. And don't even try givin' 'em back. I did, with mine, an' the damned CIC wouldn't take 'em."

Toby leans back into the settee continues to watch Dio's reactiosn, better than any damn vid that's for sure. Once Sera's finished he offers the newest NCO a pat on the shoulder and a brief "congrats man," before reaching for his beer once more.

"Shit. Really?" Dio asks, "Man, whatever happened to each man going as far as he wanted." Diomedes grumbles quietly, "Honestly, I like my little shorts and high socks and frilly dresses that get covered in fuel and oil." he shakes his head, "Serbear, I do not know why you let this happen." he says with a bit of a sigh, giving her a quiet half smile- giving Toby a little nod. "That's *Sir* man to you." he offers, with a laugh.

"Because you'd be absolutely brilliant at what you do if you'd stop being such a lazy shit all the time," Sera announces firmly, even as she's fumbling around in her chest pocket for what's left of a crushed pack of cigarettes. "Now you've got other people dependin' on you, so you can either step up your game or deal with it when somethin' gets screwed up on your watch. Welcome to bein' an NCO." She tosses her bangs back out of her eyes by tossing her head. "Speakin' of which, I've got a new job for both of you."

"Does it involve moving more boxes?" Toby asks, still grinning. Ignoring Dio's remark he continues, "or moving the boxes we already moved back again? I reckon I've got the hang of that sort of thing now, bend me knees and everything."

"Yeah, but I really like being a lazy shit." Dio grumbles as he gives a bit of a sigh, "Alright, what's the new job, Ser?" he wonders of his now fellow NCO. He gives a little sigh. Petty Officer. More pay. More hassles. Less time to be drunk and draw tattoos. Today was shaping up awful.

"Maybe," she says, smirking at Toby. "We've got us a new DCAG an' apparently, she's been blatherin' about traini' exercises or somethin'. But until somethin' comes from the Chief, it ain't my problem. It's hers." A shake of her head. Her ponytail bounces. "In case you haven't heard, some the delicate little flowers in the Wing decided to go out an' get themselves dirty, gettin' some recce on a SABER site. Heard they even earned themselves a few bits of shine to sport on their chests for their trouble." A lighter. Why is it she never seems to have a lighter? Sera pats this pocket and that one, finding none. "Intel has done the prelim evals an' they want the system reviewed for possible weaknesses. Bein' mechanically inclined, deck's had it dumped on them." A pause. "Actually, almsot every department has had it dumped on them. They want it bad. I think the CIC's gettin' desperate on this one."

"I'd heard," Toby replies with a nod, "saw the state of the Raptors they brought back an' all." Shaking his head slightly as the image of the almost certain write-off comes to mind he clears it with another swig of beer. "So you want us to go over it?" asks, making sure he understands correctly, "see if agree with the eval or can improve upon it?"

"What the fuck do I know about missile systems?" Dio asked, "I'm a mechanic. Not a rocket scientist." Dio replies, shaking his head again. " I mean, shit, that seems like a computer tech sort of job- I can look at the mechanics of it, and tell you what I see, if I can figure something out based on the mechanical workings- but mechanics ain't rocket-science."

Sera drops her voice. "An' I'm not an expert on Centurions, either. You think I know jack about computer programin'? You think I could read that damned alphabet of theirs even if I did?" She nods to Toby. Well, lifts her chin to him, really. "Just take a look at it. See if you notice any spots where it might be good to blow some holes an' take the thing out, even just temporarily."

Toby smiles at Dio, "hey, how do you think I feal? Last I knew they don't need oxygen calcs, or ejector seats. I might be able to get something on fire supression systems around it, but hey, if CIC wants us to take a look why not. They can pass it to someone else if they ain't happy with what we give 'em." Nodding back to Sera he drains the remains of his beer and then throws the bottle a few feet into the nearest bin. Pushing himself to his feet he sticks his hands in his pockets and replies, "alright, give me ten to go grab my laundry out of the dryers and I'll meet you in the deck office to have a look."

"Shacks. I'm also goin' to need to talk to you about what we can do to deal with the lack of a large amount of gas masks," Sera advises Toby. Yes, she really just said that. Gas masks. Great.

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