ALT #302: Rumor Has It, Zombies
Rumor Has It, Zombies
Summary: Phin interrogates (in his way) Bennett about her trip to Minos and what was left there. Alas, the stories of zombies were greatly exaggerated.
Date: 04/11/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: The Underground City
Bennett Phin 
Raptor Berthings — Deck 2 — Battlestar Orion
The berthings for the Orion's Air Wing are the same as what one would find on any other Mercury-class Battlestar, though they are distinctly different from the rest of the bunks on the ship. These bunks are separated not into sections of sixty, but by squadron. That means that there is a little more room to move around with only twenty to twenty-five pilots in one bunkhouse. Some officers have brought a small rug to sit in front of their bunks, but the tables and chairs are standard military issue. At the rear is a small couch that was probably new when the ship left anchorage and seems to have been kept carefully clean. The crest of the Gentlemen Ghosts has been painted onto the wall behind the couch, as well.
AWD #302

After the festivities last night, and the drunken limbo in particular, it's probably no wonder Bennett was looking a little green around the gills at today's briefing. And after an uneventful patrol, and even less radio chatter from her than usual, the pilot quietly slunk off to her rack. Ostensibly for some sleep, though her eyes are open and there's a cigarette dangling from her fingers; her lean, mostly-clothed frame is draped bonelessly over her unmade bed while she ponders the mystery of the deck grating.

Phin returned from the festivities on the planet without getting too wasted. Blame early morning duty. Not that he gets un-moderate all that often. He's been off long enough to have showered and wasted some off-duty time, which currently finds him wandering by the Raptor berths. He's not a terribly unusual presence here, for a Viper jock, so his entrance doesn't occasion much comment. He exchanges the odd "Hey" with some that he passes, but his destination appears to be Bennett's bunk. He gives the bulkhead adjacent to it a knock. "Uh, Butch?"

Bennett's eyelashes flick upward at the knock, and her gaze settles somewhat blearily on Phin. "Hey there, doll," she murmurs with a warm smile. The smoke is brought to her lips for a pull. "What brings you by my neck of the woods today? I think Vashti is out.. somewhere. On patrol. Something." She pinches the bridge of her nose, right between her eyes.

"Yeah, she's on CAP this shift," Phin affirms, where Ygraine's concerned. Not what brings him here, apparently. He's used enough to being in the vicinity of smoke that it gets a slight wrinkle of his nose, but no other outward reaction. "I was hoping you had a moment, actually." For what, he doesn't immediately specify. He's clearly working his way around to something but not quite arriving there just yet.

Bennett might, at any other time, put the cigarette out for the sake of manners. But tonight, she really doesn't seem quite cognizant of Phin's discomfort. "Sure," she answers softly, after a few moments silence where it almost seems she might have dozed off. "What do you need?"

"There are a lot of weird rumors going around about what happened on Minos," is how Phin gets into it. "Like, the mission was attacked by zombies and stuff." He starts with the most ridiculous rumor, one he can look semi-amused at. "I don't know how much you can tell people about what happened but…a lot of people didn't come back from there. I was hoping you could tell me why."

"Mmhm?" replies the bus driver absently. She pauses a beat before pushing up on one elbow, then grasps the railing of the bunk above her and twists into a seated position. "Oh, well. I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you." Blue eyes snag the younger pilot's steadily there, cigarette pausing an inch from her unsmiling lips.

Back when Phin was a callow ensign - not so long ago, really, all things considered - he had no idea when to take those looks seriously and when not to. As a slightly-less callow lieutenant…he still has no real ability to read them. He does manage to meet her blue eyes with his own, though. Though his only immediate response is, "Uh…"

Bennett's face suddenly breaks into a grin, crow's feet and dimples and all, and she takes that pull from her smoke before speaking. "Come on, the CAG would have a fit if I got rid of one of her viper jocks." She sniffs slightly like she's trying to stave off a runny nose, and elaborates, "We found survivors down there. They have been through hell and back, and they did not trust us. Do not trust us. They asked for some of our people to stay behind while their rolga decides what to do with our offer of sanctuary." She pauses, glances back up at Phin. "Someone had to come back and tell Command what has happened. So I did." The grin has by now mellowed into a smile, though there's uncertainty in it.

Phin's face finally relaxes into a smile, and he even gives an abashed chuckle. Shrugging. Though he considers what she tells him seriously. "Rolga?" He doesn't know quite how to pronounce the word, and the traces of his Scorpian accent want to try and twang it in ways that Tauron isn't meant to be twanged. "That's why Storm stayed there, then. I knew he wouldn't go AWOL without his daughter." It's a very oblique reference to the other rumors going around, that Holtz went off to stay with the remains of his people. He did clearly reject the idea, albeit for very specific reasons that had nothing to do with military duty. And he still felt the need to mention it. "When are they due back? Our people, I mean."

Bennett's own pronunciation of the word is an abomination in its own right. She has an ever so slight drawl, however carefully enunciated, and Tauran is.. well, neither. "You know what he is like. Stubborn as an ox." She flicks some ash from her smoke, and it peppers the deck grating. "I do not know."

"Yeah. Storm does exactly what he wants. He just…knocks through things and figures it'll work out." Phin rolls his eyes. But he sounds as much envious of that approach as irritated by it. Well, there's some of that mixed with the irritation, at least. "Toast and Teatime'll manage the Vipers, though. I'm not worried about that. And…I get it, I guess. It's as close to going home as he's going to get. That'd pull you to lay-over."

Bennett smiles faintly at Phin's description of the viper squadron commander, and pulls again from her cigarette with a slight hollowing of her cheeks. The smoke's exhaled lazily through her nose, and she rubs at the corner of one eye with her thumb— careful not to drop hot ash on her face, of course. "I am sure this does not need to be said, but.. I do not advise emulating him. When you are a bull in a china shop, sooner or later something is going to get broken."

Phin shakes his head. "No worries. My impulse control is pretty honed." It's said wryly. "I've flown with him enough to figure out that I can't operate like that. In a lot of ways. Anyway. What was it like? Minos, I mean. It's been…those people've been down there for so long, since the attacks."

"A dustbowl," she answers after a few seconds. Her voice is soft. Thoughtful. "When the sun isn't baking the sand, it is cold enough for hypothermia to set in fairly quickly, if one is unprotected. The landscape is bleak and.. uncivilised." She settles upon that word tentatively, and then adds even more gently, "We will go back for them as soon as we are able. Sooner, if the CAG has her way, I am sure."

"Was there any kind of Cylon presence around the moon?" Phin asks. A tactical question suddenly occurring to him. "It kind of figures they wouldn't bother too much with the worlds they glassed, and they glassed the hell out of Tauron. Even if they didn't quite finish off Minos."

It's Bennett's turn to shake her head. "None. Which does not preclude the possibility of scouts relaying information on our presence there, I suppose. But I would wager she has that situation under control, as well." One hopes, anyway. "If you are finished interrogating me, though, McBride.. I think I ought to get some sleep. It has been some time since I had that much to drink in one sitting."

Phin looks a little abashed at the term 'interrogated.' Not that he really denies it. "Homebrew'll do that, sir. Anyway. Yeah. I'll leave you to it. Thanks for…not killing me." It's a joke, mostly. "Later. Glad the zombie stuff isn't true." With that, he leaves her to it.

Bennett winks at Phin, and flops back atop her pillow to attempt sleep once more. A few words are offered as he turns to go, "By the way, getting rid of that lip rat makes a rather large difference, doll. You are not a bad looking man." Flirting? Not really. Maybe if she weren't hungover.

"Uh, thanks." Flirting or not, it's not something Phin's ever sorry to hear. "Same to you. I mean, you're a good-looking woman. Sir." A bit awkward, that. Fortunately, it's time for him to take his leave. And off he goes.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License