AWD #273: Pre-Fight Meal
Pre-Fight Meal
Summary: Toby and Leightner meet in the mess before the ground assaults on Anadyr Island begin.
Date: 06/Oct/2013
Related Logs: Nothing specific
Leightner Toby 
Mess Hall - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Crew Mess on the Orion 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 #273

Leightner enters the Mess, rubbing the back of his neck, moving to the food line. Collecting the offerings from the kitchen before coming out to look for somewhere to eat.

Toby is sat at one of the mess tables, a bit plate full of food infront of him, although he's only really picking at it. He is however, back on duty, as signified by his fetching orange coveralls.

Leightner comes along with his tray, and there's a spot next to the orange Deckhand. He sits, and starts eating. Looking over, the heavy Virgonese accent. "Don try ta identify it, better if ya jus shovel it down." He leads by example. om nom nom

Toby glances over to the man who sits next to him a moment before repling in he's own distinctly Tauran accent, "not that, frak knows I've eaten worse. Had word I might be needed for some action later, trying to judge the balance between not being hungry and not returning everything into the inside of a flightsuit."

Leightner nods, "Droppin?" He considers, then looks at his plate. "Thanks mate. Y have tha right of it. Think I'll do tha same. Might be sent along." He frowns at the plate, tilting his head, "Not bad. Hmm."

"Droppin'?" Toby repeats, then shakes his head, "gunning on a Raptor. One of the pilots has decided I need some time off-ship apparently." A shrug as he glances back to the food again and takes a small mouthful, "tasted worse."

Leightner leans forward, "Gunnin?" Now he's interested. "Sounds like yer doin our Jenas job." He shakes his head, "PO3 Leightner, Corpsman. If we're in tha same Raptor, Feel free to use me first name." He smiles slightly, 'MEDIC!' He says to explain.

"Jena? Nah, she's a PJ," Toby answers, "me, I'm a deckie. Point and squeeze, thats all there is to the gunning, just make sure you're pointin gat the toasters before you squeeze. Hard part is the before and after." Offering his hand to the man he completes the introductions, "Toby Shackleton, Crewman."

Leightner shakes his hand, nodding, "Good Meetin, mate." He settles back taking a bite. "Aye, she's just more of an Air Wing gal than me, I'm with tha Marines poundin ground. All I know bout tha hangars is Vipers are too small to load inta." He grins. "So help a mate out if ya see me lost on Hangar, eh? an if somethin bad happens, well, I'm good fixin hurt. Deal?"

"Works for me," Toby agrees as he pushes his food around the plate a bit more, "don't recommend hanging about on deck though, if you don't have a reason. Good way to get hurt that, too much stuff going on. 'specially at the moment."

Leightner nods, "Oh, Aye. Normally I go on Deck when someone calls Sickbay for a Medical responce, or I'm tryin ta have our Jena help me train loadin Raptors." 'Our Jena' he calls her, sisterlike. "Hasn't been goin well lately, but we'll see."

Toby nods briefly at that, the points downwards with his fork, "if in doubt, look for the fraking great painted walkways on the floor. Stay on them and you should be okay." That said he reaches for the drink infront of him, that pauses, flightsuits cause so many practical problems.

Leightner nods, "Sold, sir." He looks like he's planning on doing just that. "No promises gettin between me an tha injured though." He takes another bite, watching Toby. "glad we don't have ta try ta work with those heavy gloves on. Thas like hell ta me."

"Don't become a casualty youself," Toby states simply but firmly, almost like he has experience in something of the sort. "Fraks everythin gup if you go in to rescue someone and end up needing to be rescued yourself as well." There's a nod in agreement about the gloves though, "yeah, couldn't do my job in 'em, thankfully the machine gun triggers take 'em into account though."

Leightner nods, seriously, "I had ta Triage too many other Corpsmen ta not know tha one. Even so, Do me best ta stay whole." He grins, "Aye, least tha triggers are made fer it." He continues eating, then stops, "I think thas it fer me. I should go an pack fer a drop." He looks to Toby. "Mebbe we meet again, Shackleton. Hope I just get a ride from ya."

Toby eyes his own plate as Leightner talks, comming rapidly to the same conclusion. "I should probably head too, see just what duty the good Ensign has drawn for the night's events. Catch you round Corpsman, although hopefully not in your professional capability."

Leightner nods, rising and heading out. "So say we all."

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