LEAP: Taurans Reunited
Taurans Reunited
Summary: Toby seeks out Pratt
Date: Day/Month/Year (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Pratt Toby 
Pratt's Place - Picon
House witha reasonable sized yard.
December 2009

Its been a while since everyone has left the Orion…Pratt retired probably right after the incident with Kelsey, finally deciding he had seen enough friends die, and struck a deal with a company to fly one of their FTL puddle jumpers for a monthly fee, which left him enough to buy a small place and afford the tylium to operate each month. Supposedly he's gotten either married or Significantly Involved again, but the house has only one occupant and only has signs of one person being around. The back yard is mostly taken up with a huge covered workspace where he actually has the passenger craft parked, and apparently has taught himself a bit of preventative maintenance himself, as the sign on the front door says "CANT HEAR YOU - COME AROUND BACK AND YELL".
The thing is about twice the size of a CDF Raptor, but none of the gun emplacements and built a little more sleek in design, but it IS old, a pre-war civilian craft. Pratt's huge form is currently on his back under the nose of the thing, with a panel open and both hands inside the guts, talking to himself, "Now don't be like that…"

Despite all his best efforts and plans, Toby has not managed to settle peacefully on Piraeus, but, for now at least, is on Picon instead. Holding himself in that slightly stiff way that suggests he's hurt, but healing, he peers briefly at the sign on the front, then steadily makes his way round the back as instructed. He's wearing sturdy but non-descript clothes but sturdy boots, and he quite clearly hasn't introduced his chin to a razor in months. A reasonable size kitbag is dumped on the floor as he enters the yard and he stands silently and watches for a few moments before calling over, helpfully, «try realigning the thermocouples first, you'll get better results.»

With a *YANK*, Pratt finally turns the wrench he was tugging on, smacking his hand against something else in the process, releasing a string of a few choice Tauran insults. The commentary is enough for him to push himself out from under the nose enough to look up, upside down at Toby - it takes him a second, maybe because he's looking at the man the wrong way around, or maybe its the facial hair, but after a second or two, he asks in a surprised voice, «Shackleton? That you?»

«You know anyone else with a face this pretty?» Toby replies with one eyebrow raised as if questioning, or in doubt. He doesn't move, not yet, letting Pratt decide what move to take next, although he does nod gently a couple of times. Just in case. He glances briefly up to the sky, then back down to Pratt before noting «you said something about a bottle of bourbon? Only I've a plan that involved getting blind drunk, and only have a few cans of beer.»

Pratt grins at the confirmation and laughs, pushing himself the rest of the way out from under the ship so he can lumber up to his feet. He makes an effort to wipe his hands off a bit on the overalls he has on, then offers a mostly clean hand out to grasp, «Just surprised to see you, man. You kinda walked off into the ether and I didn’t hear anything about you since. Yeah, c'mon in. I got booze, good booze.» With that said, and assuming the hand is shaken, he starts in through the back door, holding it open for Toby to follow

«We better start with yours then," Toby notes as he shakes Pratt's hand, «the beers terrible, and I wouldn't want to be too drunk to appreciate anything decent.» Grabbing his bag he follows Pratt inside. «Yeah, well, I had a plan, but nothing in it has worked out,» there's bitterness in that, but he's making a valiant effort to hide it, «reckon I'll be heading off planet shortly though, all being well» he actually looks around for the nearest bit of wood to thump «so figured now was as good a time as any to remind you about that bottle. That and I need my cash for the ticket out of here, so figured it'd be a cheap session if you already had it in.» He's teasing gently on that last bit, mostly testing the water to try and gauge Pratt's reaction to his presence.

Pratt snickers at the first as he walks inward. The house is small, a little living room and adjoining kitchen, and a door leading back to a small bedroom and bathroom where laundry machines are nestled up against a corner - living on a ship apparently drilled into his head about making the most use of a small space, «Have a sit wherever, man.» He takes a moment to fetch a bottle off the top shelf and actually has to brush a little dust off of it, eyeing the label for a second, then murmurs, «Wow, this might be almost as old as either of us. Guess I'm done workin for today!» Two (clean) glasses are found after a moment's search and brought out, handing one over while he pours a sizable about for Toby, then himself, «Sounds like you're planning on needing to run. Stuff going south on you?»

«Nothing quite so dramatic,» Toby replies as he ditches the bag again and grabs a seat as directed, «just fed up of taking bullets for entitled pricks.» Raising the glass in silent toast once it's offered he takes a slug, then adds, «been up north for around eighteen months I guess, working security on some of the new build projects. Pays wasn't great, but putting those APF bastards into the ground was reward enough really. More 'en more marines demobbing these days though, they get the cushy jobs. Figure it's time to cut my loses and move on, before one of 'em says something stupid I have to reply too, or, you know, the APF get better at keeping me down.» He takes another slug, lifting the glass to eye the contents after he does so, then turns back to Pratt, «how about you? That thing out there fly yet?»

Pratt sinks into a seat heavily, listening as he takes a savoured sip from his glass and watches Toby explain, and slowly nods, «Fair enough. And that heap? It flies. I’m just making sure I can fix the usual shit on it before it comes up, so I don’t have to pay a mechanic at the air base an arm and a leg. You know, if you don't give a shit about where you hang your hat, there's a few of us leasing these hunks from PikeAir. You could undercut what the scalpers at the base are charging and I could even let you use my yard to work, until you made enough to buy your own hangar. Not sure if you wanna go back to that work again, though.»

Toby shakes his head slowly. Taking his cue from Pratt he doesn't take another slug, but instead sips, for now at least. «Thanks, and maybe some time, but I need to be elsewhere for a while at least, and there's work going on Minos.» Or so the word goes anyway. «They won't let me anywhere fraking near P so it's the closest thing to home left, just need to get myself out there and go from there.» Despite his intentions moments earlier, the mention of Piraeus, even in passing, has him taking a third slug, this one finishing the glass. Staring at it for a few moments he then slowly sets it down before looking back to Pratt with a faintly wry look, «know any decent pilots willing to fly that way?»

Pratt offers the bottle when Toby finishes the glass off, chuckling under his breath, «Well, if you need out to Minos, I can take you. If you don't mind waiting a day or two, I'll even post something to the taxi board and grab a couple of paying customers, that'll cover my tylium cost, too, but if you're in a hurry, we can swing it. I gotta tell you though, it doesn't wear off. I finish a jump and my eyes are glued to the DRADIS looking for red dots.» He shakes his head and downs a good portion of his own glass, «Jaclyn left on some super secret squirrel shit, supposedly coming back next year, but heard nothing. If something happened, I'm not even sure they'd tell me.»

«No rush,» Toby confirms as he refills his glass, then offers to do the same for Pratt, «I doubt they'll run out of rocks to be moved in a day or two.» Listening to the pilot talk he gives a vague nod at the dradis comment, although it's not a system he ever used. «I doubt they'll be back,» he starts, «not for a long time at least, maybe as big a gap between the next war as the last two. From what I heard the Apray spanked 'em hard, although if they could do the same with those fraking bastards who miss 'em I'd not complain.» The comments about Jaclyn earn him a tilted head though, and a questioning look, «Jaclyn? You got yourself a woman?» He's assuming it's a woman anyway, sounds like a female name. «Good Tauran stock I trust,» he jests lightly, «sounds more Leonis though, be careful she's not leading you on.»

Pratt smirks at the comment, «Hush. I wouldn't get so lucky as to find a second good Tauron woman. Hades only gives you one of those. Hell, people see my ink now and give me looks like I some kinda freak, worse than they ever did before. Gonna be kids soon that'd never heard of us…how’s that for a kick in the nuts?» He sighs and reaches over to refill his own glass, stretching his neck a little as he moves, «But yeah. Welcome to crash here for a couple days, I'll drive over to the base and put an ad up, we'll see if I got any fares lining up and then we'll go. In the meantime, you can always laugh at my efforts to clean a tylium pump.» He chuckles at that and tilts his glass in Toby's direction.

«Hades only gives you one?» Toby repeats back sounding just a touch amused, or maybe it's the booze hitting, «you ever considered trying a different God might bring you more luck?» Not that he's serious attempting a conversion mind, just poking gentle fun. His expression turns heavier though, and the talk of the kids of the future. «We're a dying breed,» he says heavily, «I used to think we'd find a way back, but now I'm under no such illusions. We've got Minos, which is better than nothing, but it's only a matter of time. If the kids there stick around then maybe two, three generations if we're lucky, but if they move to find better work then we'll likely be the last.» It's clearly not a thought he's comfortable with, even if he can vocalise it, and another slug of drink is taken, not apparently remembering now the polite option of sipping instead. «Tell you what,» he offers as he lifts the cup up once more, «if you've got to drive to the base, I'll take a look at the pump for you while you're gone. Been a while, but stuff like that is easy enough. Give me something to do at least.»

Pratt rumbles, «Not a chance..» He takes one more drink from his glass and considers the offer, then slowly nods, «I'll make a deal for that. That way I'm at least sure its the one thing that WILL be working on that boat, hmm?» Another pause to knock back the last of what's in his glass, while he mulls on the rest of what the other Tauran said, then lightly shakes his head, «That's why I didn't take the age therapy crap they were offering, man. You got your time and then it's done. I think I did good with what I got, and anyone that wants to flip me shit over this can go frak themselves. Who knows. Maybe I'll get tired of this and see you out on Minos in a few more years.»

«Wasn't offered it,» Toby replies regarding the gene therapy, «wouldn't take it if I was. Not going to criticise those who do, their choice and all, but I was born Tauran and I'll die Tauran. Simple as.» Refilling his glass once more he raises it at arm’s length into the space between them and offers the toast of, «absent fraking friends mate. One, three, thirty years, doesn't matter. And may some bastard out there remember us when the colonies are but a distant memory.» That said he drains the glass in one, washing the faintly morbid away with the burning of the alcohol. «You do what you have to do for you man,» he offers, «if you can make yourself a home, here, Minos, with your lass, then do it. Home, and people you give a shit about, that's what's important.» It's not quite drunken philosophy, but if he keeps knocking them back at this rate it won't be long.

Pratt nods slowly in agreement with that, considering the bottom of his glass for a few extra moments, «We'll see what happens when her five years are up. If no Jaclyn, then maybe I'll just sell this place off, pack up, and come out there and spend the rest of my time with the family. Be good to see kids again, you know?» He even smiles at that idea, «Don't want any more of my own, but love kids.» With that said, he knocks back the last of the bit that was in his glass and leans back into his chair, «I think I'll head in to the base after this wears off. Just realized I didn't have lunch, so this is gonna feel real good in about 20 minutes.»

Toby dips his head ever so slightly as Pratt says he doesn't want kids. He doesn't either, but it sparks the briefest of memories for a moment and he upends his glass to get the last drops out to chase it away with. «Lunch,» he repeats back, «yeah, that would have been smart. But hey, we're Tauran, all brawn and no brain right? Or was it think in the arm and thick in the head? Do you mind if I..?» He points to the bottle, meaning he wants to continue, even if Pratt is calling it, but since it's decent stuff he can switch over to his own if it's being saved for other occasions.

Pratt waves his hand, «I think I hung on to that one just in case you showed your happy ass up, man. Knock yourself out…and I mean that. Have enough of that and you really WILL knock yourself out.» He grins at his own humor and rumbles a little as he settles down and mutters, «Damn, that stuff is smooooth.»

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