AWD #341: Papers and Prickles
Papers and Prickles
Summary: Just your standard day in the Rec Room. A JTAC being prickly and the Admiral making a surprise appearance.
Date: 28/05/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None.
Fairfax Halena Jameson Rakes Skyler 
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.
Tue Dec 13 2005 (AWD #341)

Why bother wearing other things besides a jumpsuite when one is off-duty? After all, it's likely one of the more comfortable articles of clothing available, and it's one that a Chief Engineer would have in spades. In fact, the only thing that denotes that Halena is off duty at the moment is that her strawberry hair, rather than being pulled up and back, is left down and waving over one shoulder. She sits on one of the couches next to a television that's playing some form of entertainment or other. Halena's not paying attention, though, she has her nose in a file that she's flipping through and making notes on with a pencil, one leg crossed over the other to lean against for such actions. After awhile, she utters a disgusted little sigh and reaches for a remote to turn off the television. Ah. There. That's better. Now, where were we?

Having just spent most of her day going over communication essentials such as radio etiquette, Corporal Demi Rakes now can spend her time trying to relax. That brings her to the recreation room, the chamber of secrets, where all good marines go to unwind in public rather than each other. She wears her uniformed bottoms with her pants unbloused, and a black t-shirt with the Fourth ANGLICO crest over the heart. She reps her unit's stylings first and foremost. The JTAC takes her time meandering though. She's off-duty. There is no need to rush. Once she has a drink in hand, just water, that's when she takes to sitting down next to someone else reading something. She reaches forward to take a remote and turn the television on.

It's exceedingly rare that Skyler ventures to places that aren't around the CIC, her bunk, or (more recently), the Brig. The woman doesn't actually own any non-official attire (thanks, Cylons), so off-duty is just a pair of BDUs and the dual-tanks everyone gets to wear pretty much all the time. The ever-present accessory, her brace, still encases her right leg. The woman's hair is drawn back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck… save for the ragged part growing back in between right ear and temple. That can't even be drawn back behind her ear. And rather than a clipboard or looking 'professional' in some way… She looks tired. Weary. And slouches into the Rec Room with a paperback novel in hand instead. Some smarmy romance novel by the cover. There's a couch off to the side and she practically falls into it; barely noticing those present, as of yet.

When Halena looks up at the sound of the TV being flipped back on, there's something in her eyes. A flash of rage which, for any who might know the woman (alas, no one here much does) would say was surprisingly passionate and uncharictaristic. Her face flushes, too. But she bites her lip, takes a deep breath, and manages a polite smile for Rakes beside her, starting to turn back to her file. But oh! It's Skyler. "Lieutentant," she addresses the woman, cordially enough even though rage-flush is still there. "I trust you recieved my Pilgrim memo and that all was satisfactory. I've not yet had anyone come down from on high to tell me otherwise, so far," she adds, with just a touch of a smile.

Rakes innocuously watches the television for all of ten seconds before she catches that someone next to her is getting huffy at the thought of her enjoying the big screen up front. The marine slouches at the shoulders and then squares them just as quickly, raising an eyebrow to the redhead next to her. "Got a problem with it?" It is a dry and characteristically sarcastic comment, followed by the equally characteristic note of turning the screen back off. That doesn't remove the fact that she gives Halena a rude hand gesture, too, and turns her attention elsewhere. There's another officer haunting the villa, and this one is Skyler now too. She squints suspiciously at the woman but, uncharacteristically, simply drinks from her water. She's just innocently listening to their budding conversation, if that.

The joys of intel, Skyler is finding. One cannot escape work. Ever. She even left her clipboard behind for once and… lo and behold: work. The woman looks up from her position on the sofa. She hasn't even fully settled in - getting that brace-wearing leg into place takes time. There's a blink at Halena and a tired sort of expression. She doesn't look like she's slept much. In that leaked video, she looked rather out of sorts. A little out of her element. A little run down. And now she's having to remember that other thing. "Oh. Yes. Of course. As soon as it can contain a satellite the size of…" The intel officer sits up marginally, looking towards one of the larger sofas. She gestures to it with the book. "That. Wholly contained. As soon as it can manage that, I need to know. Otherwise, just keep doing what you're doing. I know folks tend to work better when they don't have someone constantly hovering over their shoulder." Pilots, almost as a rule, hate that. It's one of the few good things she can bring to her new gig.

Halena's hazel eyes flit up and down Rakes, in that way only a judgemental female can do. "Hmmm." She ignores Rakes at that point, looking back to Skyler. "Of course. Although, if I may speak a bit candidly Lieutentant, that may be the first time I've ever been told, in the Navy, that I might not have someone over my shoulder." She gives the other officer a very tiny smile, one that touches only one side of her face. Then she glances at Rakes, and it disappates again.

Jameson wanders in, a mug in one hand, and a file folder in the other. He doesn't seem to be moving with any particular purpose. Considering the leaked video, someone might expect him to be steaming from the ears. No, the man looks casual as he moves in his blues. If he heard Rakes initially, he doesn't seem to give any indication of anyone pinging his radar. He just heads towards the back of the room with the coffee maker. The folder is tossed down and the mug on top of it. …But he gets a different mug from the bar and lifts the pot to fill that one instead.

"Do you always get bombarded like that wherever you go?" Rakes finally puts a horse in this particular race, pointing the question in the general direction of Skyler. "I mean, I know you used to be a member of the Wing and all, but you had that lateral transfer too- so- curious, I guess. Way back when, when I was reenlisting, I was given the option to go Intel, but yeah." She shakes her head. If being in Skyler's shoes means that people are always nagging for details about one thing or another, then she clearly chose the right option; which is, with a sidelong glance in Halena's direction, to be on the front lines sacrificing her everything for people. She looks down at that thought, goes to say more, and then affords the opportunity an apologetic smile. The marine sips from her cup, unaware of even more officers.

"I know a grand total of nothing about what you're doing. It wouldn't do you or me any favors if I hovered. I'd lose time on other work and you'd be distracted." Skyler notes movement out of the corner of her eye and there's a bit of a tightening to her features. Maybe an eyetic. The newest intel officer has made it a sort of point of pride to avoid a particular individual and here she is, in off-duties, just trying to read a book… and there he is. So she just pretends she didn't see him. That's an easy route, right? It's Rakes the woman looks to instead, rotating to plant feet back on the floor. "Compared to when I was a pilot? Yes." At least she doesn't seem too salty about it. Then again, that particular video making the rounds shows that the jig likely has much more important things to stress her out than people with questions.

Halena doesn't see who has come in behind her. Instead, she flits her hazel eyes to Rakes a moment, and then to Skyler. Any hint of a smile or conversational tone she had has since fleeted. "In that case, I shall be sure to pay you the same courtesy." Rising, she tucks her folder under her arm and ignores Rakes. "Enjoy your literature, Lieutentant." She turns, then, to move for the door with that flush in her cheeks still remaining.

Jameson watches the exchange, glancing over, and finishes pouring his coffee. Seeing Halena suddenly move off has him loft brows, likely wondering what he missed. He sips at the mug and then makes a face. Clearly he's not a fan of the coffee. The mug goes back to the counter and he opens the top of the urn to look inside, sniffing it. Uhg. He ends up putting the mug into the sink and dumping it out. He takes up his old mug and the folder and heads over towards Skyler. "Special delivery. I was going to drop it off in CIC in your box but I'll just leave it here with you." Probably just a couple reports. Nothing exciting.

"I bet I'd get used to it, eventually. Bored if people stopped doing it." Something happens though. Corporal Demi Rakes has not the intestinal fortitude nor the moral courage to simply ignore someone's presence. She may be a glorified guest aboard the battlestar, but that does not exclude her from ignoring memorizing the chain of command's faces. If anything, it makes it a Thing: Louis G. Jameson, Rear Admiral. She stands up. She then promptly ignores him in favor of calling out to the retreating tail of Halena. "Hey, where you off to? It's just the Rear Admiral. I'm pretty sure he doesn't bite." She jabs a thumb over the shoulder and in the direction of Jameson, in the middle of saying stuff to Skyler. With a pivot in place, she looks one way and then the other.

There's a glance after Halena, Skyler's brows arching. The woman is sitting a bit forward on the sofa, as if poised to get up. Maybe to retrieve some coffee for herself. Whatever Petra brews in the Map Room creates quite the addiction… if one didn't have it already. Paperback clutched, she's about to rise… but there's an Admiral before her. The jig cranes her head just a bit and squints up at him before reaching for the files. "Yessir." What else is there to say? No, it's not every day that the Admiral ends up delivering work in person, but it's a sort of awkward spot for her, at elast. Maybe others would handle ti with more grace. And there goes Rakes, also abandoning her. Sort of. She looks around Jameson towards the other two women, then back to him. It takes a moment for her to get to her feet — bad leg and all — with book and files. The top file is flipped open, briefly, before being closed. "People are rather… agog, I think is the word, about that video." It's an attempt at conversation. Kind of.

On her feet, Halena's limp is moderate, but it's there. The sight of the Rear Admiral doesn't seem to phase her in the least. She nods her head respectfully in his direction as she moves past in her own direction, her own thick file under her arm. "Sir," she says, respectfully, though when Rakes speaks up, Halena's cheeks flush once again. She breathes once, purposefully. "Good evening to you both," the redheaded ChEng says to the ladies behind her, before continuing on to the door.

Jameson looks at Rakes while the Marine calls out to the Chief Engineer. He then looks to the officer, then back to the Marine. "Is there a reason you're calling out my Chief Engineer?" he then looks towards Skyler and shakes his head. "People are going to have their reactions as they will. There's not much we can do about it now. Once the dog's bite is made, can't take it back. I'm just glad to reflected pretty well of certain things."

Agog. Rakes is smart, brilliant in her own way and skillsets, but she has no idea what that word seems to mean and levels a questioning look in Skyler's direction thanks to that particular word's usage. She makes an inference and frowns. By the time that Halena is truly making her exit, it has turned into a flat smile. "See you later then, Sir." She is not going to fight to have the woman linger; on the other hand, she is currently being questioned by the aforementioned Rear Admiral. The marine helplessly shrugs. "No, Sir. Just making friends. Sir." She lingers on that for a breath, looking to Skyler for a cue or two. "Completely out of my lane, but, Sir, what do you plan on doing next?"

There's a moment where Skyler just sort of stares at Jameson. His phrasing does not quite fit her Virgon worldview. "…Right, sir. And… yes, I believe it did. I know he wished to speak with Sergeant Knox directly, but I think he still had his questions answered." She's holding the files and the book — 'The Silent Servant,' some romance deal — in her arms and Rakes, thankfully, provides a decent distraction. Oh no, no cue from Skyler. She's just as deers-in-headlight. The woman seems intent on possibly sidling her way to the side. Towards the coffee pot… which is hopefully brewing a fresh batch.

Halena pauses by the door a moment, to make sure that no one (read: Rear Admiral) has any desire to converse with her further. Once she's sure, she'll step out.

"Your definition of friends approaches my definition of disrespect and that's not a solid alignment, Marine." Jameson spits some of his dip into the cup. The guy then slides a glance to Skyler and nods. "Not everybody gets what they want. Sometimes you just get what you're given and you gotta deal with it. I imagine the Twelve will survive that beatdown somehow." The guy takes a step back and seems to be prepared to leave when Rakes speaks to plans. "Checking out Ragnar, possibly dropping you on Libran, and doing my best to start a civil war among the Cylons. Seems to be working so far if you buy that video as truth." He glances to them both and gives a curt nod. "Kick tin ass, gentlemen." A final comment before stepping for the door.

There's a look ceiling-wards. In the hopes that, y'know, the marine might know to hold her tongue. Skyler fusses with the coffee pot, locating a mug. Maybe she'll get some reading in before tackling the files. If they're reports, easy enough, but who knows what might be buried in there. But then Jameson mentions dropping people on Libran and she turns, a bit sharply. Some coffee spills, splashing against her hand. "What the frak?" It's not shouted, at least. More to herself, than anything. Rakes may overhear it, but the Admiral… Well, she can hope he doesn't.

Rakes opens her mouth to speak on something regarding Knox, but she only manages, "Coop," before quieting back down and stuffing her brain back in its jar with its thoughts. She has been sworn to secrecy and remains respectful of that. So, instead, she gets to dutifully nod before turning to head in the general direction of water. She needs a refill. Then, she comes to stand in the general middle of the conversation even if it is mostly just her and Skyler left. "I like plans. But, in my defense," she holds up a finger, "The Captain could say she doesn't want to watch the tele instead of making angry faces at me."

A towel is grabbed and Skyler starts cleaning things up. Well. She cleans up what spilled on her hand and the counter. The floor is ignored. Do you think she's going to be able to bend over? "I don't think he meant Libran," she mutters, quietly. Almost to herself. "I pray to frak," because Skyler? Not religious. "he didn't mean Libran…" But then she realizes Rakes is speaking to her. There's a glance up as the towel is tossed back down. It's considering, initially. Perhaps due to the reference to the Six. She doctors a few things into her drink and lifts the mug for a careful sip. Not bad, her expression says. With files and book tucked under arm and the room safe from the Admiral, she limps her way back to the sofa. "Hey, don't justify it to me. I'm just a jig. Security clearance aside, none of that frakkin' matters to me."

"It could be Libran," flatly points out the marine. She has no say in the matter, either way, so she does not care where she goes in the grand scheme of things. She is the tip of the spear that people like Skyler decide on where to point and then, in the end, where to stab, slice, or methodically assault and reconnoiter one way or another. Rakes offers a smile though, in wanting to lighten the moment, and steps forward in order to clean the floor since no one else is going to do so as quickly or efficiently as she is. She looks over. "You shouldn't be so restless, too. Makes it easier to read you, I think."

"I can't tell you why, but Libran would be bad. You don't want to go there-" Skyler squints at Rakes, but can't place the woman. "marine." she ends, lamely. Normally she'd offer a title or name, but no. Not available here. Settling back onto the sofa, she sets the files down and the coffee. Jameson left, so frak it. She's gonna read. "Well, remember. I wasn't trained as an intel officer. I never got the lectures on how to be inscrutible and frighten people by merely walking into a room."

Rakes must be something of an enigma to just be titled 'marine' by everyone who is not a marine. She frowns at that but takes things in stride. Cleaning up, she focuses on. Then she drinks the rest of her water and places the cup aside, for the time being, so that she can join Skyler. "If you won't share, then I won't keep a secret. You don't have to tell me about Libran." She leaves that at, well, that, and offers a hand. "Demi Rakes, Corporal," and not organic to the Battlestar thanks to being a JTAC. She's off-duty. That's the best part. "Do they still give lectures about that stuff? You don't have to answer. I nag. It's a specialty, just ask the other marines."

There's just a certain saltiness that marines carry. It's different from the pilot salt. And different from the officer salt. You learn it, when piloting Raptors. Skyler adjusts her leg, carefully, so she can lean back into the sofa with her book. But then a glance to Rakes and she rolls her shoulders slightly. "Just trust me when I say that you don't want to go to Libran. We'd have no way to bring you back. Period. Anyone that goes, pilot and marine alike, is stuck there." She lifts a hand, drawing her ponytail over her shoulder. The hand is glanced to, but taken finally; book dropped to lap. "Skyler Almaeda. JG. But you seem to already know who I am." But rumor being what it is and her prominence in that leaked video… "I don't know if they do. I assume?" She raps a knuckle against the brace. "I won't ever pilot in combat again. So I guess someone in Command had the smart idea that I'd be good in Intel. Hint… I'm not."

"Go to Libran is now on my bucket list, Sir," replies Rakes alongside the handshake. She's no pushover as far as those are concerned, and it seems that neither is Skyler. Briefly, she wishes she could have formally introduced herself to the angry-face chief engineer but she settles for casually harassing the intelligence officer next to her instead. She smiles. "I just don't know of anyone else with a bum leg still in the fight, but in intel, is all. Basic scuttlebutt, nothing specific, I promise. But, I'm pretty sure you're doing a bang up job, all things told. I could reference the video but that seems to only cause stress. Really, you're like this guy I know, always second-guessing himself. Don't."

"Well, the way I see it… I survived my Raptor being blown near to shit, the shoddy jump back. I mean, all told, the tyllium drive should have blown." Skyler leans forward for her coffee, grabbing it to take a drink. "I could've begged my way out, sure. Gone down, become a civvy on Piraeus and done… what, exactly? I'm a pilot. That's all the shit I know. Except apparently-" she gestures to the files. "I know intel, too. And…" The video, she sighs at length. "I don't know if I'm glad or pissed off that video got leaked. Yes, there's a Twelve aboard. Yes, there's a Six. And yes, Sergeant Knox has… infected his own line." Her lip twitches slightly. "The last wasn't supposed to be known. I'm sorry."

"I've been blown up once. Just not nearly as bad as that," and as relative as all of that could ever be, Rakes still offers a small wince and then shake of her head at the story told. Near-death experiences are still near-death experiences, and while she herself has been able to (eventually) walk from them, she's just been lucky to do so; blessed, even. The marine studies the officer. "You know," she begins at length, "You don't have to be either, or- you can be both glad and pissed. Sergeant Knox is a friend of mine. Not the same team, but we're from the same unit. We share secrets. Nothing of importance now, but, don't apologize for that. I'm a big girl. I can handle truths."

The intel officer looks down to her mug, takes another drink, and sets it back on the table. She smooths her palms over her knees and leans back into the sofa. Dark gaze slides to look to the ceiling. "There are the rumors that the Nines have changed sides and have been spreading word amongst their kind. It was… believed that the Sergeant could do the same. Infect his line, as it were. Just as they explained in the video." It's not a secret anymore. It used to be, but now? Everyone seems to know. "His whole line, from what we can tell, has decided the Cylons were wrong and they want to work with us. Side with us. That Twelve in there… is judging us to decide if he will do the same. Maybe. We're not… certain. We've never met one before." She lifts an arm, draping it across her face as she sinks into the sofa further. "I'm… not sure what his opinion is now."

Rakes shrugs. She should have a far more involved response as far as traitorous Humanoid Cylons go, especially when they intend on helping humankind instead of the dire, genocidal opposite, but that's all she intends on using. She does not want to interrupt Skyler from talking and otherwise controlling where the conversation heads. If anything, she's just a nameless ear to talk off. She sits back in her claimed seat on the sofa and laces her hands together in her lap, switching her gaze from watching the intelligence officer to their general surroundings. "I don't think I've ever met one before. What do you think he'll decide? It must hurt, you know, to see that your closest friends- your family- are turning against what you believe in your heart s right."

"No one, on record, has met a Twelve before. Maybe in one of the resistance cells we rarely have contact with." Skyler lifts her hands and fusses with her hair a bit. Absently sort of braiding the long ponytail. At least Intel means she doesn't have to — regularly — stuff it all in a helmet. "He doesn't trust their leader, I think. It sounds like his… line wants to find the best thing for them. If he's smart, he'll realize we offer freedom and his side doesn't." She looks down to her leg, shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "I don't know. A part of me wants to hate him. Just like it did with Ceres. Just like with Knox." Though she never met the Sergeant directly. "But at the same time… Nothing will ever bring back Virgon. I'll never go home again, not even when the war is over. So I need to… acknowledge what might be a chance to get an upper hand."

"I was going to say don't live your life with regrets, especially when in a position to do some real, honest good. Then I was going to talk about how I saw this one kid with a tattoo across his chest that said 'no ragrets', but then everything felt condescending in my head." Demi begins to explain. It's tangential. She is thoughtful and quiet with her words, choosing them carefully. Her hands smooth out the pants fabric across her knees and thighs before settling back down right there. She looks at the backs of her hands, still talking. Because that's what these two do; they sit on couches and talk about random things when no one is paying attention to them. "If he's smart… well, if that's the case, he really will just do what's best for himself and his own. I think I'm okay with that. That's human. He's scared. So yeah, I trust you can use that for an upper hand."

"I'm not really in a position so great as that, I assure you. In spite of the security clearances, I'm a jig. The Colonel and Major do listen to my input, but it all goes through them in the end. I'm a glorified pencil pusher." It's not so much self-doubt as it is someone still figuring themselves and their place out. Pilot to Intel officer makes sense on paper, but in action? She leans forward again for her coffee, taking it up. There's a slow drink before it's set back down, the stack of files pulled into her lap before she leans back. "Scared might explain some of his behavior. Really, though? He's a dick. But I think, whatever the Six showed him… We'll see. I'll probably have to talk to him again soon."

Fairfax wanders into the rec room, in off duty fatigues. He doesn't immediately acknowledge the two talking, instead stalking through toward the TV to see what it's showing. He looks like he has a bad feeling he knows already.

The televisions are actually off at the moment. Surprise!

"You're in a greater position than most of the population though," points out Rakes with a dismissive wave of the hand. She may catch the bigger fish and higher-ups in brief vignettes like earlier, but that's about it. She's no glorified paper pusher, as Skyler puts it. She starts to say more but there happens to be the entrance of one Fairfax which means this particular mean closes her mouth and sits her head back. She shrugs. "There's no rest for the wicked, someone once told me."

"I suppose. But if you believe that, then believe me when I say you don't want to go to Libran yet." Skyler just levels Rakes with a sidelong look. Damn the Admiral. The 'Days Since Last Jameson' banner has been reset and he left the usual chaff in his wake. The first folder is flipped open and she draws up her good leg to prop it up somewhat as she begins reviewing it. "No, there truly isn't. I've begun dreaming of days off." There's a glance up at movement, spotting the marine officer. Her eyes drop back to the report.

Fairfax actually seems to mellow when he sees the televisions are off. "Oh good." He announces to the room as a whole. "I was afraid they'd be showing that blasted feed." He drifts closer to the other two, then, to offer greetings. "Lieutenant. Corporal."

Rakes eyeballs Skyler suspiciously as far as Libran goes, but she doesn't bring it up. That's uncharacteristic of her. It's okay. She can do so later. Or characteristically now, "I put it on my to-do list already. I'll just knock it down a few pegs and we can call it even." And with a brief smile, "But don't worry. I won't go ferreting myself to some trouble. Contrary to popular belief, I enjoy not being shot and hate combat in general." She's just good at it. She also feels like an officer-magnet right now but is good at smiling to them, too. The appreciative expression is sent in Fairfax's direction. "It's still doing laps though, Sir."

"Whoever released it must have already been raked over the coals," Skyler murmurs, without looking up from the folder. A few pages are flipped to and fro before she settles on one. There's a small stack of such files in her lap, despite the woman being in BDUs and dual-tanks. Clearly off-duty. "the Admiral came through here a bit ago, looking like all is well in his world." She does cast a look towards Rakes, but just shakes her head slightly in regard to Libran and its status on anyone's list.

"Well, I'm pleased to hear the Admiral is doing better than he was when he visited me." Fairfax smiles the wry smile of one who has recieved an epic ass chewing. One for the ages. "And yes, when the person who released it has been found. And they /will/ be found…" He trails off, letting it hang in the air. "How are you both?"

"He told me to go kick some ass," says Rakes, "So I guess that means I need to find my students." She may be off-duty as well, but that does not remove the idea of finding Dreyer or anyone else in order to harass. She makes to stand up, bobbing her head into a respectful gesture. "I'm actually kind of starving, so I'm going to go handle that. Don't mind me- ah- excuse me, rather." She almost forgets her cup in leaving, but grabs that after a brief retreat.

"I'm sure they'll have a lovely day. No one likes something that stirs the Admiral from his cave." Skyler manages to work in the CIC and surrounding areas and avoid the man for the most part. She looks blithely to the files in her lap, making a face. Chin lifts at the query and she lifts the one she's reading. "I received a personal delivery from the man himself. On my off-hours. Guess." When Rakes stands, she watches the woman rising and gives something of a nod. "Avoid the soup. There was something off about it earlier."

"Ah, so similar to me then." Fairfax gives the junior officer a sympathetic look. Rakes is given a nod of understanding. "Very good Corporal. And off to kick some ass? Ha, good job. I used to kick quite the ass in my day. Now I just prod buttock, I

"Ah, so similar to me then." Fairfax gives the junior officer a sympathetic look. Rakes is given a nod of understanding. "Very good Corporal. And off to kick some ass? Ha, good job. I used to kick quite the ass in my day. Now I just prod buttock, I'm afraid."

"That sounds so… so sketchy, Sir, when you put it like that- prod the buttocks." Rakes makes a show of it by adding a Caprican accent, but then ducks her head and offers a quick, mock salute to the both of them. "I'll do my best to make everyone proud, promise. But, avoid the soup? Got it, Sir. Thanks for the conversation." She then nods before disappearing altogether.

There's a roll of eyes at the Major's farewell to Rakes. Skyler mouths something along the lines of 'Marines' before leaning back into the sofa. She starts to cross her legs, but winces as the routine movement causes pain in her right leg… So instead, she just turns sidelong into the arm of the couch and goes back to reading. There's a romance novel of some ilk tucked in at her hip; relaxation reading forgotten in the wake of the files the Admiral handed off to her. She does glance up to give Rakes a quick upnod before the JTAC departs.

"I suppose it does, yes. You know what I mean, though. Who am I going to practice combatives with?" Fairfax lets the Corporal head off, returning his attention to Skyler. "So what ill tidings did the Admiral bring /you/?" Apparently he's enjoying having someone to share the pain with.

So frakkin' weird, those marines. Skyler just stays mum on talk of asses. Newp, not going there. She may be just some ol' Naval Officer now, but she was Air Wing long enough. The woman glances, briefly, up to Fairfax. "Just some reports. Thankfully. Usually he just leaves them in my box, though." Like some sort of Work Fairy. She finishes flipping through the first before shuffling it to the bottom of the stack and opening the second. "I, thankfully, have command over no one and no thing. Lessens the amount of ass-chewing I deal with." But she still gets her. Usually from the boy Major.
Rakes has left.

"You'll get there." Fairfax prophecises, wincing slightly at the talk of ass-chewing as one would who had just been on the recieving end of one. "So how have you been, since the last time we spoke?"

"I'm starting to think being one of the oldest jigs in the fleet isn't so bad, to be honest." But having to do a few interrogations and then having your face on the footage going around can do that. Folks might want to talk to Skyler about it, but no one's angry at her over it. It's a nice change of pace, really. There's a glance to the man and an arch of brow. "Well enough. If you're wanting more information about the ruins, I haven't got any. Been a bit too busy with… other things." Namely skinjobs.

"I imagine you have, Lieutenant." Fairfax agrees easily enough, before adding "If I want something, I will ask. You needn't worry about that. I'm straight forward that way. I'm not just being polite to shake you down for secrets."

"Just so long as you understand that asking, polite or not, doesn't always succeed, either." The upside to Skyler's background is that the Virgon accent works oh-so-well for not just officers, but intel as well. It doesn't matter what she's saying, it has both a touch of class and smarm to it. At least the end of the Virgan structure she came from. It may be, too, that she pushes it a bit harder just for the position. Keeping people at bay through the power of one's voice. A few pages in the file are flipped and she opts to leave it for later. Shuffled to the bottom of the pile and on to the third and (thankfully) final.

"Oh, I understand, Lieutenant." Fairfax assures Skyler with a quick nod. "I understand exactly where I stand." It's an odd way for a Major to speak to a Jig. But his own accent is coming through stronger too, that pushed accent bringing out the resentful young Tauron boy who doesn't fit in properly in his new circles.

There's a brief rise of dark eyes to regard Fairfax, but they soon drop back to the work before her. Skyler, it would seem, has little to comment about in regards to that. Security clearance creates an all new set of rules to the structure, really. One she's still adapting to. The third file leads to a bit of a grumbled sigh, but all three are soon set aside and instead, she's picking her book back up. 'The Silent Servant' with some trope-y romance novel cover. Trying to eke out at least a bit of downtime in her off-hours.

"I'll leave you to your reading, then?" It's half question, half statement. She picked the book up. It's a cutting sort of dismissal, but Fairfax interprets it as such. And he could push the point, to be sure. But instead he begins to retreat. "Enjoy your downtime."

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