AWD #459 Q&A
Summary: Marcus and Niamh meet Captain al Yamoha for the first time. Marcus secures the code to the bunker hatch. Kapali discusses the bunker with the Captain. al Yamoha has powerful messages for Niamh and Randy.
Date: 23/09/2016
Related Logs: Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers
the-captain Kapali Marcus Niamh Randy 
Living Complex - Piraeus
The living complex is a little more relaxed than the tempo and feeling of the Marines' section of Sheridan. The civilian population lives in this area, including the government contractors, construction workers, and CIDSR personnel. Most of these individuals have been assigned quarters in small prefabricated homes that have been roughly lain out in neighborhoods. The mess hall and Checkpoint Charlie's are both located at the edge of the civilian area and are more central to the fenced compound, as are the Pyramid Courts.

With an 18 month cycle, Piraeus is heading into mid Fall at this latitude and its getting colder outside. With the local sun sitting low in the sky, is casting long shadows from the western ridgeline and most people are moving about in sunglasses and heavier coats. The temperatures will be dropping towards chilly very soon and cold in a couple hours. This close to Charlie's, the night traffic is starting to pick up and people are mingling around outside. People waiting for friends, others meeting up, and a few street urchins from the refugees that were rescued off Minos. They're mostly pushing sunglasses and jewelry. A few enterprising ones are selling single flowers for people who are waiting for dates to show up. Despite the war going on, it's a place where people can be reminded that people will still be people and that life goes on as usual despite the best efforts of the enemy. There might even be something cathartic about it for some.

Accross from the vendors, outside of Charlie's and off to the side, Randy lights up a some kind of handrolled cigarette of some sort, cupping her hands and holding it in close to her body to protect the flame from going out. She's wearing that old black bomber jacket and jeans. Some Marines ask her if she's going inside, but she just says, "Waiting for someone."

And that waiting for someone was running just a little late. Marcus jogs in from the landing area, looking slightly embarassed. "Sorry, Randy, was about to catch the bus down but I saw the Chief.. and you know that the have a Raider power core they need studied? I figured I might be able to help." he offers with a touch of genuine apology in his voice. So.. we're talking, right? None of this weird sitting in silence and staring stuff we've been doing the last few days?"

It's been a while since Niamh came down to sample the booze at Charlies. Been busy, busy, busy. But she's here now. Dressed in civvies for a change, that consist of a pair of ancient jeans that look a size too big, held up with what looks like an old utility belt; an oversized hoody that looks like it might've been black once upon a time, long since faded to a murky brown through washing and wearing and a pair of ratty sneakers. If it wasn't for her tags having slipped over the neckline of her hoody, she'd probably fit right in with the urchins. Her gloved hands are currently occupied by a dog-eared notebook, and her green eyes are wholly focused on whatever's on the open page, completely oblivious to the world around her. So naturally she's not at her graceful best, spending more time bouncing off of people and stumbling over nothing as she progresses forward.

While everyone moves and mingles through the area it's calm. And then more calming. A noticeable sense of peace seems to descend. It isn't the sort of thing that arouses concern, but it actually feels relaxing. Little hairs might stand up at first, but then settle. It falls over the people around like a light silk sheet. The more it settles, there's something that rings more spiritual about, as if they were in the presence of something greater. Perhaps a personal affirmation of beliefs, almost on the cusp of touching it. Some people look around, pleasantly confused. A few others look up to the sky and grin. A couple of pilots in bomber jackets with Raptor patches let out a hoot and laugh, looking around as if expecting someone.

That's about when They appear. As if fading in from the periphery of vision, well-armed and combat loaded people waft in, taking only a second to come out of thin air to looking like normal people. Most of them are in their early or mid twenties and look like VERY rough people to deal with. But as they come corporeal a couple of them smile. Three head over for the be-jacketed pilots and start calling names and laughing. The pilots embrace them and immediately strike up a conversation. The rest mingle in with others who they seem to recognize. It might be a bigger reason to freak out if it wasn't so damned calming and peaceful. Despite the heavy weapon presence, the group in their odd camo and unfamiliar weapons seems friendly enough and they strike up conversations. Some of the more surprised people are immediately engaged with casual greetings.

Niamh is probably just heading in for drinks when one of them walks up beside her. The dark-skinned woman in her early 30's is wearing sunglasses and smiles over. "Hiya. Meeting up with anyone in particular?" she offers casually. But there's something about her. Walking with her gloved hands resting on the butt of her slung rifle in front of her, its easy to overlook it for a second. But the more she speaks, the more obvious it is… She's speaking, but the movement of her lips don't match what she is saying. She isn't even heard audibly so much as the voice is heard in the head. It is a bizarre experience, but something fairly easy to adjust to.

As soon as the hairs settle on her skin, Randy begins to look around. It's then that she spots the woman speaking to Niamh even before she sees the rest of the 'people' mingling with the pilots. She steals a drag from her joint and is about to push off towards the two women when Marcus arrives. She blinks and focuses back on the foreground. "Hey. Don't worry about it." She glances back behind him again, "Sorry. The Raider? Sounds cool. Well, going to try. Don't know if-hey, check that out," she dips her head, arching her eyebrows at the two approaching women. "The one all loaded? You see her?….Yeah she's a ghost."

It takes Niamh a bit to realize something's different. She stumbles again, but manages to right herself and glances sidelong to the woman that's suddenly sort of appeared there. The Crewman blinks once, then twice, then looks away and gets her bearings. "Oh… right.. meeting anyone?" There's a glimmer of confusion as she responds in her native language, "No… not meeting anyone. Just coming down to have a few drinks, see what there is to see." The redhead's usually cheerful countenance is replaced by a slight frown as the woman keeps talking and Niamh realizes it's in her /head/. And she's wearing strange stuff. The Tauran blinks, then carries on walking, or at least maintains a forward momentum.

He had heard rumors of the anamolies that are 'Them', but Marcus had never seen one in person. The tremble through his body, the goose-pimpling of his skin, it causes him to look around with a hint of concern as he rubs his left arm against his right, favoring the wounded side. He draws in a breath as Randy speaks up to him. "…really?" he asks, a glance towards Randy as if disbelieving for a moment. Then he reaches up, takes the joint from her, and draws on it deeply before passing it back and exhaling it slowly through his nose. "The tracking sync seems to be off.. or it's in my head, or.. this is weird." he murmurs as he looks towards Randy.

The woman in shades walking with Niamh just smiles. There's a real mirth to it, too. Nothing menacing, just a real smile. "Well you're certainly seeing what there is to see. Strange sights and people." There's even a laugh with it, casual as can be. "Don't sweat it, Niamh, I'm not here to stalk you. You were close, though I'd say hi. Mingle a little." She lifts a gloved hand from her rifle and taps her chest twice, gently, right over her heart with a balled fist. It seems like a greeting akin to a handshake. "I'm Lila. Unless you want to get formal." Another gentle laugh with it. Behind the shades her gaze must drift and see Randy because she takes a slightly more serious expression and dips her head once to the Sergeant before tapping her heart again, but this seems to have more force to it. Like a more official greeting. Or personal respect. A lot to be told from the little details.

<FS3> Marcus rolls Alertness-2: Good Success.
<FS3> Niamh rolls Alertness-2: Success.

"You hear it too? Perfect accent," Randy refers to the Aquarian hitting their ears, still speaking in Colonial Standard herself. She relinquishes the joint willingly as if time hadn't passed since the last time they shared a cigarette. "Yeah-oh, careful with that stuff. It's a native plant." He should feel an added effect that hits him immediately, only adding to the calming effects of the otherworldly presences. She looks towards Marcus, "You okay?" But her attention wavers back towards the women again. She tracks Lila with her gaze and nods back in return before holding her fist to her chest. There's a passion there in the returned respect, something intrinsic to her person that's found in everything she cares deeply about. "The hand thing there. It's a-" she struggles to find adequate words. "It's not quite a casual hello or hand shake or anything…it's kind of reverent?..Respect," she settles on the word, still not able to fully synthesize her connection or the customs she's learned in words.

"A salute.." As much as that was drilled into his head in Officer's School, Marcus seems to understand. Though he watches Lila for now and then says quietly under his breath. "I feel it. Like the first cold wind when winter comes to Aquaria again." he murmurs, the cut of the smoke helping with the other calming effects of the others as he moves to pass the joint back to Randy. "She's a.. five?" he asks, confusion touching upon his features as he turns his attention back to Randy for the moment. "I take it you've met her before, then?"

The way that they just casually mingle, he reaches up to brush his hand against the small wound against the back of his head as the Engineering El-Tee considers for the longest moment. "You trust them." it's not really a question, he's relying on the instincts of his best friend. "Like Sergeant Knox and Specialist Mercier."

"What…. how…?" Niamh is just dead confused now. Totally not looking where she's going as she walks into a person. A real one, not a ghosty-one. Shaking her head, she kind of resigns herself to the strangeness of everything. "Yeah… no kidding. I mean… well, I'm good with not formal. I guess. I mean, you're not exactly in my CoC so…" The Crewman wrinkles her nose, then gives Lila a friendly grin, studying her a bit more closely. Because she's not the sort to hold things against people. Ghosts or otherwise. "Doesn't all that stuff get heavy? Could I ah… look at it closer? It's different to what I've seen before… I'd love to draw it." She tracks the direction in which Lila looks and pauses, "I'm sorry, you probably need to go talk to her. I won't keep you…" But still, Niamh does try to get a really good look at that gear, because she's wierd like that. Probably got dropped on her head or something.

The Captain laughs airly with the words from Niamh. "No, I am most certainly not in your chain of command." But the request has her slow her casual gait and shrug. "Not really, no. Weight of the gear is something we've carried for a long time. Its who we are now. But sure, you're welcome to look closer. But, ah, I get the idea you shouldn't touch me." There's a friendly grin and a head-tilt towards Randy. "I think she gets it. But you're welcome to. I won't hurt you or do anything to hurt you. You've got my word." It seems easily said, but there is a weight to it. This is not a woman who gives that lightly. "You're welcome to draw me or any of my troops. We can chat. If Sergeant Flynn wishes to speak with me, she'll come over. I know she does, but its up to her." She tilts her head, smiling still. "How are you finding Piraeus? From what I've felt, it seems like a good place for you all. A home while you're fighting. Would you agree?"

"Not exactly. If my memory serves me it's not strictly military…at least I don't think," Randy explains with some hesitation as if she's not quite sure. She nods at Marcus' words of home. Home. The thought seizes her for a beat before she takes the joint and ashes it off to the side. "Yes, she is. I saw one of her models on Libran on a recon mission, but before that, back on Saturnalia, I shook her damn hand like an idiot." She steals a drag off the joint and blows it upwards, away from Marcus' face. "I do. Not everyone does…They are Piraean. This is their home." It's like a statement of finality. How could she distrust someone who has welcomed her to their home? She glances sidelong at Marcus, something to it they both would understand from their youth. "Something got rid of them…wiped them out. That's what that AAR I turned in about the bunker was about. We went out to the coordinates she gave a Deckhand after he asked her what was hunting her." She turns her body more towards Marcus. "Marcus, we found a /powered/ hatch."

"So ah…. who are you, then?" Niamh asks, curious as ever. And with the invitation to draw… and even touch. Well. The Crewman comes to a stop, her face lighting up. Her gloved fingers quickly flip to a new page and out comes a pencil. She hesitates a moment, then reaches one hand out, carefully examining the gear, more specifically, the weapon. Though there's absolutely nothing but genuine interest in how the thing is put together, and how it possibly works/worked. "And why shouldn't I touch?" She blinks, then blushes, then touches anyway, her smile fading away behind awe as she becomes aware of just how /old/ this gear is. Quickly pulling her hand back, then, because stuff might break. "Incredible…" Her pencil moves quickly over the page, sketching the woman,her equipment. Nothing too incredibly detailed, just outlines and thumbnails.

Listening to Randy carefully, Marcus nods his head, accepting the Sergeant's assessment. "I know what you're saying, Randy, it just seems.. weird. But they.." work for the Cylons. He shakes his head and tries to get rid of the thought before she pushes his button a different way and gathers the Engineer's interest. "You didn't just blow it open?" he asks her patrially teasingly before he looks thoughtful. "I don't know if I could figure it out, but we can take a gander. But considering we're talking about their home.." he says, with a glance towards the Captain before he pushes off the wall and takes Randy's arm. "We should at least ask permission before we go prodding around, eh?"

The ghost lady casually listens, looking to Niamh with a smile, watching her remove the sketchbook. Lila watches the hand go to the weapon. Little pokes and prods are just fine. Any Marine would probably lose their shit, but it's like Lila knows better. Like she doesn't have to worry about Niamh. It's personal. "Because sometimes when we touch, I can show you things. They are things that I think some people are not ready for. Some are. We have shared in the past but as a group we've resolved to only do so if it is requested." The easy smile holds. "I am Captain Kha'lila al Yamoha. Piraean Army." On a dead planet with no known conscious life. And she's Army. "But like I said, you can call me Lila." She stands there, hands on the butt of her rifle. It isn't so much of a pose as a casual appearance. "Many things are incredible, but still hold credibility. The Orion Battlegroup's survival to this point, and Piraeus being a secret, are two such examples. But here you are." She looks at Niamh more directly and there's something more sympathetic there. "And here you are. And everything you've dealt with. I hope you hold your head high, Niamh. You deserve to."

Randy looks over at Marcus, her head turning sharply. "I know. But something happens to the skinjobs when they come down here. They have like repressed identity or memory or something. I don't know. It changes them the more they're down here. I saw it happen for myself. Recently and I think the One's been tampering with their memories or something. I mean, I don't know, but something happened to them and they're being used. One of them apologized to me Marcus," Randy did have a lot to discuss with Marcus, but this all just seems a little more pressing. "I could tell it was painful…I know, but /she's/ the one who gave us the coordinates Marcus. It's an answer. She's trying to show us what they were up against." Randy takes a deep breath, letting the effects of the visitors wash over her and center her just as the paranoia starts to creep up in the back of her mind. Yet she still reaches up to rub the back of her neck. "I do want to talk to her about it. I mean, to make sure we're careful…I would appreciate that." A small grin creeps up on Randy's mouth and she says, "You know I'd get to fit you for one of our suits and take lots of footage and pictures." She steals a drag off her joint and offers the last bit to Marcus, "So you want to meet her?" A smirk tugs at the edge of her lips.

"I know about Knox already. I trust him and his judgement. That paid off a few days ago.." On Aerilon. Marcus closes his eyes in thought. "Mercier, well, she earned it, I mean, she was like a whirlwind trying to help people while I was puking my lunch up like some idiot." There's a frown at that, but he looks past it. "Never met the one that was a pilot, or the other doctor. I guess I've been kind of sheltered in their home." he admits as he looks over at Randy and then he smirks. "I'm sure you'll get a kick outta that, Flynn. But yeah. Perhaps I owe it to the citizens that used to be to help us find the answer now." They can talk later, he seems to feel the weight of Randy's words and thoughts as he nods. "Come introduce me, and I'll ask the Captain for permission."

"People are never ready. Not for anything, really." Niamh replies, still in her native language. "That's why we're in this mess to begin with. But I think Pireas is nice. I mean, I haven't really spent a lot of time down here. Mostly because I like machines and we've got a Raider, and it's just so amazing. But…" The Crewman breaks off, blinking at The Captain, studying her for a moment, then shrugging. "Well, I don't know about that. But it taught me a lot. I think it made me a better person, even if some folks don't really understand my reasoning. But that's okay, I mean, we can't all think the same, can we?" Green eyes lift, finally, from the sketch book and smile at the Captain. "So why are you here then?" There's a pause, "Not that I'm complaining, I mean, I get to look at the cool gear you all are wearing, and it's interesting, but I'm pretty sure you didn't stop by just for me to examine…?"

Lila nods slowly to Niamh. "So true. Humanity is never ready for the big events. You never had a chance. Once the AI took it's first step, it was sealed." The tone is more calm and controlled rather than casual. Niamh's concerns are met with a still easy smile, but no condescension. "I say this: Who you are to other people is what they will believe. Who you are, and who you know yourself to be, is a far more important thing, Niamh. When you believe in who you are, others will see it. The words are trite, and I know this, but the belief is something you need to journey for. Nobody else. Thought is relative. Action is what matters." The words are spoken solemnly, too. "oh, I'm here because we wanted to make our presence known. A few of my people wanted to visit and share, to mingle with you all. Nothing complex. We're just here because we are. Unless you're asking bigger questions. If that's the case, then we are the caretakers of Piraeus."

"When I shook her hand, she showed me things," and by the way Randy says it, lets the silence sink in as she falls into a thoughtful stare…it was more than some visual laser show in Randy's mind to the Marine. "Like, it felt like I was her. I saw her life. Her death. The birth of her child. I trust her. The one I saw on Libran? Points a gun at Kapali's head. So, there's that." She chuckles a bit at Marcus' revelation. "Have you been living under a rock?" she teases and elbows him lightly. "Right, let's do this. Don't touch her and don't be alarmed if she knows things about you or Aquaria," she briefs the LT on the way to meeting up with the other women. As they approach, Randy lifts a hand and smiles to Niamh before saying, "Just wanted to introduce the Captain here to Marcus." She nods to Lila, smiling briefly. There's something different about Randy since the last time she saw the Captain. Her entire demeanor is overshadowed by some invisible force, a gravity that's settled about her eyes. "Marcus, this is Captain al Yamoha. Captain, Marus Petropoulos. Try and say that five times fast."

"Not living under a rock. Some of us just work harder than others for a living." Marcus says with a smirk as he follows along with Randy, the two of them approach and he offers a salute out of habit. "A pleasure, sir." the young man offers as he glances aside to Randy as if to say 'this is like one of the stories you used to tell'.

She'd probably say something further, she's positively brimming with questions and it's quite obvious. But then, Randy's approaching with Marcus in tow and Niamh sort of melts a little into the background, bringing up her pencil again, and her notepad, apparently content to take a backseat to the two. The Crewman does offer Randy a quick nod of greeting and a cheerful grin. She lets her gaze wander, studying the others of the Captain's group, pencil moving quickly, sketching lightly. Maybe details will be added later, maybe not, but it's not long before her page is filled and she's flicking over to a new page, watching and listening.

Lila looks over to Randy as she approaches, sunglasses not hiding the smile. But this one is different than the one she shows to Niamh. It is significantly tighter. That gaze seems to go from Randy to Marcus in short order, though. He can feel the eyes of a millenia on him, as if she's reading him. "Well met, Lieutenant." She balls her fist and taps her chest twice in greeting. It isn't quite the same as for Randy, but there is respect there. "Your losses on your Aerilon were tragic, but unavoidable. I wish we could have been there to help. Genuinely." She holds her pose with the gloved hands on the butt of the rifle. "You have good Marines under your command, Lieutenant. I can see that you respect that already. That, in itself, is a respectable quality of yourself." She glances back to Niamh, sensing something, and she gives a subtle thumbs up in a very human gesture. "Feel free to ask questions, Niamh. I'm not here to keep secrets. I only say what I can."

Tossing a pyramid ball lightly between her hands, and laughing with one of the other players who'd stopped for a drink at Charlies after the game, Kapali isn't paying as much attention to what's OUTside the bar so much as the sarcastic remark that she's making while walking, talking, and tossing the ball lightly between her hands. The ball is snagged on it's upward arc by the taller player she's walking with, and as she pivots to try to steal it back she spots Randy…. and freezes rather abruptly, making the player that she's walking with practically step on her in the process. The humor fades from Kapali's face, replaced by a suddenly more solemn look as she absently tugs at the front of the sweaty t-shirt she's wearing, putting herself 'to rights' a bit more before she glances at Randy then the LT then around again, this time a slow sweeping look in a full 360 followed by an up-around arc then back and makes her way toward where they're all standing near the visible presence of the Captain.

"Thank you, sir. I trust the Marines with my life, and they'll return the favor." At least that's what Marcus hopes, before he glances aside to Randy and clears his throat in thought. "The Sergeant was telling me what she found, sir, and mentioned that there was a panel that was unabled to be accessed because it was powered." he offers to her as his attention returns to the Captain, feeling all that weight on him as he looks thoughtful. "My expertise is in electrical engineering, and I thought it best that we ask permission before we go trying to open it. If you do not mind me looking at it? Or if there's a code already?"

Randy returns the gesture to Lila in full view of Kapali. Whether she's consciously aware of the slight differences in her interactions with the Captain or not remains to be seen, but this is Randy. She senses and intuits more than most scientists would. "It was a hatch in the ground. And it wasn't that it wasn't accessible. We just decided not to open a mysteriously powered hatch in a bunker without the some safety equipment," Randy offers, as gentle and subtle as she's going to get about it. "I'm afraid that the panel will fall apart if we handle it," she adds before stealing a glance back to the incoming Kapali. She takes a drag as she waves her mangled hand for the Corporal to come join.

"Oh, I don't want to interrupt." Niamh replies to The Captain. She gives her a smile, "Looks like…" Her pencil wielding hand waves in Randy and Marcus' direction, "They've got far more pressing need, than me. Because I'll probably just ask silly questions about how your weapons work and what kind of materials your gear is made out of." The Crewman is /still/ speaking in Tauran. It's a habit. She laughs softly and returns to her drawing, though she does keep an ear on the conversation, if it's being spoken in Standard.

Lila looks to Kapali on her approach and there's another tight look to her. The greeting, once again, takes a different turn. The doubletap to her heart is given with a harder respect. She seems to know something. The nod that goes with it speaks volumes. Lila was there. She then looks to Marcus and Niamh, "Forgive me with the difference in greeting. They have explored something important that has likely not been easy." But Marcus' question has her look more intent. "Yes. We were quite intent upon hoping a connection could be made so it could be opened. You do have our permission. That vault is the reason I gave the location to Tobias Shackleton." She reaches into her gear and produces a notepad and a grease pencil. Her pencil moves swiftly, too. "The panel will take a code and open. It was designed to last, Sergeant. What is inside is what you seek. There are no threats, only a solid state drive kept in a powered state." She tears the paper from the pad and hands it to Marcus, offering it. "The code." She then looks back to Niamh and shakes her head. "Nonsense. Ask your questions. Our weapons fire bullets like yours. Simple is often the best." An easy smile. "Our gear is made of the same things yours are, but our armor is better but a full degree. Piraeus has a source of ore that we had woven in with our carbon fibers."

Kapali aims a shallow nod at the LT in greeting, and absolutely does not interrupt even as she's moving up to flank the LT on the other side, consciously mirroring Randy's position precisely and tipping another nod, paired with a quick gleam of a smile, at Niamh before she offers a solemn salute to the Captain in return. "That which is seen, Captain, may not be unseen; that which may not be unseen is never forgotten. It matters, Sir," she flicks a glance toward the LT then back, "and LT Wescott is going to see that the tomb itself is recommended as a war grave. That your dead are accorded the respect, the honor, that they deserve in death as they did in life."

Ghosts can pass notes? Apparently they can, as Marcus reaches to take the slip of paper with the code upon it as he nods to Randy. "We'll still be careful." he says as he turns to notice Kapali. "Where'd you come from?" he asks Randy's shadow as he moves back to glance at the paper, as if to memorize the code - like the paper will disappear when They do.

Randy falls silent when Kapali speaks. Her eyes drift to the side and then she closes them. "That's good." She takes a deep breath and nods back to Marcus. The care she affords the nod suggests a 'yeah and more later to talk about.' "Thank you," she directs to Lila. "That makes things much easier for us…How come you didn't give this to Toby before we went there?"

"Really!?" Niamh looks up so quickly she might actually have whiplash from it and she can't stop herself from sliding closer again, examining the material of The Captain's fatigues a bit more closely, "What kind of ore?" The pencil is tucked into her messy ponytail, freeing up that hand to physically examine the armor. Despite the weight of ages, the Tauran's uncontrollable curiosity kind of overrides the whole 'don't touch' thing. Since Lila can apparently hold two conversations at once, the Crewman gets over her whole don't butt in thing, "Is it close by? I mean.. easy to mine? Us Tauran's are fairly adept at mining. As easy as any mining is, but…" Her words trail off, running over ideas and possibilities in her head, the way she's bouncing around, she's obviously quite excited.

The Captain fixes those sunglasses on Kapali. "I was not there personally, but I've seen their final moments. Felt it. It's been shared. We fell just after they did. The honor in it all… Our Six refuses to be seen because of it, except to the Three you have. But the honors rendered will not be forgotten, Corporal. We were all there with you and the others. Watching. Thousands of us. I know you felt it." She lacks anything but confidence in the quiet words. To Marcus, she nods slowly. "Respect the dead. Some of our own you see here? The died there. After much discussion, we had decided to trust your people with this." She pauses and there is gravity to it, her sunglasses indicating that she's at least looking to each of them. "It will upset you. All of you. The drive has selective recordings we hoped to one day pass along." We. The statement alone is explosive. The idea that it is not just her and her Army group, but a larger idea. Permissions granted. Conscious thought. Arguments have been made. Looking back to Randy, though, she shakes her head. "We'd hoped to pass it while you were there. It failed." She then looks back to Niamh and laughs a little more easily as the woman touches her gear. She puts a hand up to stop her and ends up fidgeting with her plate carrier. "We call it Yisralium since it isn't found anywhere else we've been able to find." Her hand waggles with the grip inside her gear before she pulls out the plate armor. When she does, it's offered over with a gloved hand. As she does, everyone can take a look at it. Even as she looks down at it, they can all tell she has not looked at it in a long time. There are three holes punched through it, but multiple rounds seem to have dented it beforehand. There are specks of blood on the outside. One over her right lung. Another on her liver. The third is low on where her heart would have been. Lower aeorotic. She died painfully. But the weight of it is lighter than what the Marines carry.

"It will be given the utmost respect and revernce." If Marcus has his way, he'd have a chapalin along to bless the place, just to make sure. He draws in a breath and glances at his watch. The talk he was going to have with Randy is going to have to wait. "I need to get back to duty. We'll talk later." he promises, as he offers a last salute to the Capatin. "Thank you for honoring me with this responsibilty, sir." he offers as he starts to head off.

"I see. Yes, was it more difficult for you to appear to us there?" Randy asks, though Niamh's inspections and excitement certainly get a curious look from Randy. "Is she oka-oh," Randy gets it a little late. Niamh's just geeking out. As the plate is pulled out, Randy takes a half step forward to look. Even though she /knows/ what happened to the Captain, looking was an impulse that lashes back on her as she remembers the final moments of the Captain's life. She goes quiet and averts her eyes, getting lost in her thoughts.

"Pyramid court, via Charlies, LT," Kapali murmurs her reply to Marcus, because he did ask, after all. She shares a glance with Randy then another curious look toward Niamh that turns into a slow curve of a grin at the excitement and curiosity that she both hears /and/ recognizes in Niamh's tone of voice. "I think we'd want to be particularly careful with regards to speculating on mineral deposits and the potential for weaponizing said material and application of same. I don't think that a strip mine and slag heap would look terribly . . charming on this planet," said in a quiet and rather terribly cautious tone of voice before she tips another slow nod at the Captain. "We… were able to catch glimpses of those of you who were in the bunker, some of our recording equipment have those images to bear witness to what we saw, in person. Documentation is very important to our particular chain of command, Sir; if we can't prove it, it didn't happen. We can prove it, however, and that.. will go a long way, I think," and when it's her turn she handles the plate with care and utter fascination though she stares rather somberly at the holes punched through the plate itself. "Like I gear.. nothing is foolproof."

Even Niamh, despite her excitement and curiosity, hesitates a second before taking the offered armor plate. Slightly chastened, she bites her lip and blushes. In her moment of hesitation, she pulls the pencil out and quickly scribbles the name down on her notepad, hopefully she'll still be able to read it later, because her handwriting is just /that/ bad. Not completely oblivious to the gravity of the moment, her fingers are still itching to touch that plate, but since Kapali's got it, Niamh just kind of rocks back on her heels. Finally switching back to Standard, though it takes a conscious brain-shift. "I didn't say anything about strip mining." A small frown creases her brow as she looks over at the Marine, though admittedly her eyes are more glued to the metal plate. "I…" The Tauran bites her lip and shuts down her line of thought, falling silent and taking a step back, not really qualified to talk about combat things.

Kapali holds one hand up and smiles rather wryly at Niamh, "Not you. It's a military mind set. Find something that can be weaponized and go for it, full steam ahead. Trees can be seeded again, crops re-sewn, etcetera etcetera. The cost of innovation is never to high, as far as weapon development is considered," she explains in a low voice, a quieter aside to Niamh.

al Yamoha shakes her head to Randy. "No. We can be anywhere we need to be now." A lot isn't said. A lot of questions opened. She then looks to Kapali, but there are no words to the idea of strip mining. But no more details uttered. She watches the plate be passed around, though. Sunglasses are taken off and placed into a pocket. They can see her just staring at the holed plate, too. "Yes, we are aware you caught us. That was not unintentional." After the words from Kapali, she takes the plate back and begins retucking it back in. "I need that." no further explanation. Looking back to Niamh, she gives a regretful smile to her. One hand comes out to offer to her. "I offer you some peace. Something to show you, for you to feel. But it is up to you." There's the idea that she knows more than she is saying.

"I'm going to point out that if they used this and it occurs nowhere else naturally," conceivably. Randy continues, "That there are probably mines already on the planet. Could probably have CIDSR do a seismic survey if we were really interested down the line." Randy takes in the Captain's answer, absorbs it, and realizes there is more to it, but curiously doesn't pursue it at this time, at least not externally. "I figured that was the case." She doesn't press for what went 'wrong' with delivering them the code either. When she sees the Captain extend her hand towards Niamh though, Randy takes a step closer, but doesn't say anything. She looks back to Kapali, sharing a look that is simply meaningful…and neutral.

"I'm just a Deckie… I wasn't talking about weapons, either." Niamh looks like she might say more, but stops herself and instead just offers Kapali a bright smile and lifts a shoulder, shrugging lightly. She looks vaguely disappointed when the plate is put away, since she didn't get to handle it herself, but… another time, perhaps. The offered hand gets a surprised look, and even as Randy's closing the gap, she doesn't hesitate to take it switching her gaze back to The Captain.

The Captain looks to Randy on her approach and shakes her head. "This is not for you. I will give you something else." She then looks to Niamh and removes the glove from her hand. It's held in her other hand while the bare one reaches out to take Niamh's. She clasps it gently. Her eyes close for a few moments as she moves something. They then open and her hand drops away to go back to her rifle.

"You misunderstand me. I'm not asking for anything more. You've already given so much, to us…to me more than I deserve," and to this planet, the Captain's own people, and for allowing them to stay there. Randy quiets herself as and watches on respectfully as the Captain removes her glove to clasp Niamh's hand. She watches Niamh closely.

The Captain looks to Niamh at first as her hand falls away. "You decide who you are, Niamh. Nobody tells you. Who you are in the moment is who you will be. When you feel your fear, do the opposite. You are human. That makes you stronger than They." al Yamoha stands there and then looks to Randy, shaking her head for a moment. She needs a moment. Back to Niamh, "Her name was Crewman Recidia Malwanhu."

Well, whatever Niamh may or may not have been expecting, what actually happened… wasn't it. She stands perfectly still. No mean feat for the hyperactive Deckie. Randy will probably see Niamh's features flinch, then there's a brilliant smile. Then her eyes close and the smile slowly fades away, features furrowing, then clenching in pain. Eventually, when her hand is released, the Crewman clenches that hand into a small fist. Her eyes open and look at The Captain, wide and sad. For once at a loss for words, she just nods slowly considering everything that's going on in her head, probably replaying the memory. «I can only hope to have even half the courage she had.» She looks down at her notepad, then back to The Captain again, "Thank you." She smiles warmly and gives a look to Randy, nodding at the other woman, maybe reassuring.

Randy nods silently to the Captain. There's a certain reverence there for the Captain's process, respect shown. She obeys the Captain's wishes as if it were an order. She even steps back. Finally, when Niamh looks to her, Randy nods back and smiles faintly. She takes a deep breath, not realizing she was holding it to begin with and then clasps her hands in front of her.

Lila looks at Niamh and nods slowly to the words. "There is no hope. Hope is an illusion. It is an ideal. The result of miracles are that someone like you does the unthinkable because they refuse to quit. You have that courage." She reaches out and rests a hand on the shoulder and that feeling returns. "The same. I cannot tell you your path, though. But you have that inside. You do. How you get there is that path to walk. Push yourself. Test your fears. Malwanhu died not even knowing she had left her own behind. Honor yourself by taking your first steps when you are ready." She smiles warmly and lets the hand drop from that shoulder before looking to Randy. "Thank you. That was just for her."

Niamh nods slowly, her smile brightening further. And there's not exactly resolve on her face, but she's obviously mulling things over in her head, fingers playing with the edge of her notepad, flicking the pages back and forth, an unconscious habit. Her free hand unclenches from its fist, slipping to idly check over her pockets. Not that she has many, dressed in her civvies, but still, buckles and pockets are checked, ensuring security. "Will… I mean, ah … I've still got questions." Obviously, "About the ore, and how… you know, like, your weapons, they work the same, but they're different more or less effective? I don't think it can be weaponized, the ore… but maybe we can use it kind of like you have. Or not, it'd be quite a thing…" She purses her lips, letting out a little huff, mumbling something under her breath about /why/ she should start carrying a map with her.

"You're welcome," Randy briefly dips her head to the Captain. "Each person must have their own journey I'm sure." She says it as if it were something outside of herself, even in such a simple affirmation of the Captain's words and process. She seems reluctant to speak more unless spoken to, even as Niamh seems to return to some line of inquiry. She fiddles with the edge of her sleeve, the jacket being a bit too long for her there.

al Yamoha smiles at Niamh as she gets herself righted. She seems to know and understand something unstated. "Those are good questions." She looks a touch entertained. "But if I gave you those answers, would it not track that you would mine the planet for it?" She takes a breath. "The most important thing for my people is that this place is respected. Billions died here. The halt of bombing was offered and appreciated by us. I can only say so much, but I will say this: Your people have a home, one you are welcome to now. It is to be respected. There are not just physical dangers to digging beneath the surface, but philosophical questions." She even glances to Randy for this. "If a group of people came to your home on Tauron, after it had been destroyed, and asked to drill, what would be your response? I intend no disrespect, only inflection in the self on the question." She dips her head with it before looking ot Randy again. "Each person must. I have something for you, but it will not be what you expect or want. The answers you seek are not the whole question you should be asking yourself." Lila keeps her eyes on Randy. "Your war matters. To you. And to us, in some respects. Your question isn't what you think it is. You may not like your answer."

Niamh frowns, "Well, yes. I mean, only for protection." The frown dissipates as quickly as it arrived, "You know, we're.. well, I can't speak for /everyone/ obviously, but I mean, it's good to have a home again, especially one we're welcome on. But… well, we have to protect it, too. Just as you have. And if our new home offers us the resources that allow us to protect it more effectively, then doesn't that sort of change things?" And with that, the Crewman managed to confuse herself and she rubs the edge of the pencil against her temple before shaking her head slightly. "Basically, I think… um.. well, yeah." The Tauran stops talking then, because it's probably safer that way. "You're probably right. Well, I mean.. I won't say anything about the ore. It's better that way."

"The question of who destroyed you?…The one that Shackleton asked?" Randy in some ways knows her self to well and in others, not nearly enough. The talk of the ore seems to not even really penetrate her mind-space, gripped as she is by what the Captain has said to her. "Do you mean what's on the disk?" She speaks in Aquarian, a language from the isolated colony that she has not heard spoken since before the start of the war, and then only in passing. The language is melodic and expressive. ~You know what I seek before I even know myself.~ The words have multiple meanings, and Randy see no reason to clarify when they're all true. Randy glances to Niamh and then back to al Yamoha. ~If I need to hear it, You should tell me. The question won't leave me till you do.~

The Captain watches Niamh, her steady gaze holding little humor anymore. "Not every advantage taken is a long term advantage. I mean no insult with this, but I pose the question: If you were to mine all the ore from this planet to upgrade your armors, do you think it would win the war? It may save a few lives, but at what cost?" She tilts her head. "To remove millions of resting souls to get at wartime supplies that make such a small difference?" There is a subtle shake of her head. "This is the point where you ask yourself the most important question: What is it to be human? At what point is it acceptable to open graves like taking off scar tissue for bone marrow? If it is okay, then where is the line between your fight and the Cylons? Do you not defend an idea of humanity?" The questions are posed academically rather than as something petulant. Real questions to dig deep on. al Yamoha doesn't look like she has the answers - because how could she? But her gaze then goes back to Randy. "The questions you ask are not the question you seek the answer to. You focus here, now. I will not tell you your question because you live it. Every day. You ask it without knowing it. The questions you voice are simple and your answers will come. Patience will grant you your answers there, Sergeant Flynn." She takes a step back and glances to her troops. There's a growing gaggle of them mingling with drunk Marines and sailors. Mostly loud and having a good time. She whistles to one and lifts a single finger in the air, a pointer, as if readying to leave.

Niamh flinches and takes a step back. She doesn't say a word. Suitably chastised. Looking down at her notepad, staring at the word scrawled there for a long moment, before scratching it out, completely and replacing it with a different word. Seeing as how The Captain and her crew are getting ready to leave, she dips her head in a nod. "Thank you." A genuine and heartfelt two words, followed by a long look at Randy before Niamh backs away completely, returning back the way she came rather than continue on to the pub as was her original destination.

Randy listens to Captain al Yamoha, but the Captain is right. However, Randy seems less perturbed by the Captain not having the answers that one might expect…Nonetheless, she purses her lips before saying, ~I'm not here to save my own humanity. I'm hardly an example of my species or of what it means to be human.~ She looks down at her own hands, the various scars reminding her of the things she's done for the sake of humanity, but she takes a deep breath and lowers them to look back at the Captain, a measure of confidence in knowing she's done what has needed to be done, at least in her heart she hopes so. Otherwise, what was it all for? It's only then that she realizes Niamh has left. She looks around and then shuts her eyes closed tight for a moment. ~I fear I may not recognize the answer when it comes.~ She looks over to the intermingling groups when the Captain puts in her signal.

al Yamoha looks to Niamh and shakes her head at the step back. She can feel more than most, it seems. "These are questions for you to consider, Niamh. They are not admonishments. Let them guide you. Ask yourself what is important. A you do, remember Crewman Malwanhu. What is it to be human? What does it mean? How do you define that?" She asks the questions on the tail and dips her head in respect as the Crewman departs.

The Captain then looks back to Randy. While the troops slowly disengage, they seem to understand al Yamoha is taking and extra minute. She looks the Sergeant up and down in the meantime. "Fuck you, Flynn." The words come out sharp. "Seriously, fuck you." al Yamoha steps closer, right inside that personal bubble and only inches separate her plate carrier gear and Randy's clothes. The insult is close enough to 'frak' to be understood. "You go out there every day and put your ass on the line and you have the gall to walk on this planet and say that you are hardly an example. People we honor here died for less than what you have done." She stares right into Randy's eyes and she can feel the weight of a special forces Captain in her face. "You are so close to your question. You stand here, on my planet, and question your own ability and resolve. Not a week ago you were wounded trying to clear explosives to save lives. I will shit on my own grave before I will listen to more of that." That bare hand comes off her rifle and is held up in between their faces. "I fucking dare you to take this and get your answer." Yeah, there's a real challenge there.

<FS3> Randy rolls Reaction: Failure.

After her own words, Randy stays silent and waiting as if feeling in her bones…she has not been 'dismissed' yet. The words cut across her consciousness like a hot knife. Dark eyes lift to lock with al Yamoha's and do not leave. As Lila moves in closer, Randy straightens up, stock still like an MP on duty. She grits her teeth as the Captain lifts her hand in challenge. Randy doesn't even have to look. Some of her worst faults have had their blessings in disguise. Her impulsivity which has lead her to experience things fear would cow most from ever attempting, breeding with it a kind of fearlessness that's directly at odds with the terrified little girl who never fully grew up. Some things never change, for better or worse. Randy reaches up to hold of the Captain's hand, locking forearm to forearm as if in position to arm wrestle.

Those eyes. There is far more than a lifetime in them. She stares right into Randy's. When its clasped like that, there is no sudden rush. She's cold, but no more than anyone else in the cold weather. She just stares right back. "We have told you that it doesn't matter what you believe, only that you have faith." The words come out warmer and more comforting than Randy might have been expecting. Almost consoling. "Faith." It's the last word Randy hears before it goes dark in a flash.

And the in the same moment she is outside herself, watching her only moments ago while she debated taking the hand. But she doesn't feel like herself. The sudden realization nearly stops the heart. She knows the eyes she is looking through. Randy need not have a name. As the grip is taking, she can feel the immense pride welling in the being. The feeling of watching her kin take a brave step. Like she was watching her own daughter. Watching through the eyes of her father.

It tugs back quickly to a view of her on the side, watching her on Aerilon trying to find mines while they are getting shot at. She watches herself get shot and she can feel the agony of her father, but the deep resolve and urging welling deep within. The righteous indignation of the demand that she refuse to quit. When she doesn't, Randy can feel the hard Aquarian righteousness and faith in family to endure hardship. The will to go on. The sheer pride.

Then a slow tug back and he's standing over her while she is considering cutting off that hand. The agony she felt is mirrored right there in how her father felt. There were no pleas either way, only the question. Watching over that shoulder, he stood there and felt nothing but sorrow for his daughter and what she had to see. He knew what was coming. He knew it would damage her. But still, there, in the moment, his faith could be felt. It never waned. Not for a second. Only his regret that he was not there for her.

And then back again. She'll recognize the location right away. Lake City. The view is watching right over her shoulder, as if his hand were on shoulder. The feeling is tangible to her in this state. She can FEEL his hand on her plate carrier, the rattle of the .50 in her hands rocks his whole being. Watching the bodies fall beneath, there is sorrow but the same strength and belief. That rock hard determination that what he see's his daughter doing is necessary and proper, even if her feels that sorrow for her. And it stays there, him with his hand on her shoulder, watching her lean out on the door gun, stepping onto the wing. He never left her side. Never once. His pride in his daughter never falters, not even for a moment.

It fades away, the feel of that .50 bucking and barking through the body. It drains out and she slowly fades back and is left staring back at Captain al Yamoha. "Every day, you wake up and ask yourself a question and you don't even know it. You have an answer." She lets go of the hand and allows it to drop. "You fight your own wars, Sergeant Flynn. Let this bring some clarity to at least one of them."

As skin touches something more than skin, Randy's eyes widen, precisely because she was prepared for something sudden. It catches her off guard, disarms her, but the words cradle a simple heart. Faith is one of the only things she has left, something she doesn't even know she has to give till its given.

The surreal-ness of suddenly finding herself there instead of here. It's the most analogous experience to how she relates to herself and strangely intimate. But that's not what the Captain is showing her. As the feelings of make themselves known to her, the truths of her life begin to unfold. This is how she is seen. This is how he sees her. He has. He is. Randy barely has a moment to feel it before she's pulled right back onto Aerilon. The pain of a parent is far greater than any child can imagine. Tears start to fall down Randy's cheeks, but she still holds on.

In the tomb. In the dark where everyone was alone even watched by so many. The darkness covered all. He was there.

By the time they're at Lake City, she's trembling, the weight of the revelations, a crushing force all their own. So simple. The answer to why she lives, why she still holds on. The question that has haunted her for most of her life. He never left her. Though the return to herself comes obviously as the other consciousness seeps away, the experience is nothing she could expect, like one rising anew from water. Though the answer is bittersweet, it is the truth. "Thank you. I won't forget." How could she. She lifts her mangled fist to her chest, beating out the gesture.

The Captain looks back at Randy, still inches from her. Even after the Sergeant's words fade, she lets them sit there. The cold breeze passes over them with night passing in. "Your question was simple. I hope you now understand my anger." Again, a low pause while the cold breeze rustles their hair and clothes. "It doesn't matter what you believe, Randolph. Just have faith. The weight behind your fight is a tidal wave. Even if you discount this tomorrow, just remember that you are not alone. None of you are. Not one. Even at your lowest point, we are there with you." She holds that distance. "As much as we wax existential about all of this, remember that you have something they never will: Love." She reaches out and cuffs an open palm to Randy's shoulder. "No more bullshit about how you aren't special. You all are. Far more than you can possibly imagine. You all are the the first in so many ways." She cuts a short smile and then backs away. Walking off, the rest of her troops follow her and then fade as they reach the darkness beyond the lights of Charlie's.

Randy doesn't say anything back to the Captain. She doesn't have to after all. Not really. She nods as al Yamoha brings up love, the cuff to her shoulder bringing a ghost of a grin, a precursor to the Captain's own. She watches on as the troops fade into the darkness. The area has been shrouded with an earily calming silence, a peace, and as the troops leave, Randy is still left standing there as if awakening from a dream. ~May peace find you,~ she whispers. Just before she leaves, she looks over her shoulder.

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