AWD #002: That's Hysterical
That's Hysterical
Summary: Two days after the strikes, Kelsey is found by Sera.
Date: 07/01/2013
Related Logs: Nothing, really.
Sera Kelsey 
Raptahs, Vipahs, Bears, Battlestar.
January 7, 2013

The last few days, it goes without saying, have been intense for the Deck. Even trying to look out for the young junior NCO was hard as even just glimpsing her had the woman scrambling all over the deck and occasionally waving a wrench threateningly. (Wonder where she picked up that habit?) But she wouldn't leave. Even when she worked to exhaustion she grabbed an empty Predator bay and sacked out behind a tool chest with a Crewman and they used each other's shoulders for pillows. With the following day coming through, Kelsey still looks tired as she sits on a break, drinking a bottle of water at a workstation. She's worked so hard to shine her boots and make sure her rank pins were on perfect, to spot-clean her uniform. Working ordnance, now she looks like she's never put for the effort. Dust, green paint trade from bombs, electrical burns, grime, dried sweat streaked down to her chin… Wescott is a mess and in bad need of a shower.

Honestly, Sera's only slightly better off. She's showered, at least, and slept in her own bunk instead of the floor. But those coveralls? It doesn't look like she's washed them since War Day, as they're splattered with grease, and ash, and dried bits of firefighting foam, and blood from a couple of people that are decidedly not her. When she makes it down to the deck, she does exactly three things — snatch up her clipboard, buckle on her toolbelt, and head straight for the nearest coffee pot.

And hey, lookitthat! There's a pot at the workstation that Kelsey is sitting at, though she's ignoring it. She stares at a shot-up Raptor with bloody dragmarks coming off the wing where the crew had to be pulled out and run to sickbay. The water bottle sits in her hand idly and the only thing to really bring her from the haze is an approach from Sera. Those usually bright eyes turn on the PO1 and just stare. No smile. No life. She just watches Sera head for the coffee pot.

"Mornin', Wescott," Sera says, without much in the way of her usual brass or bossy good cheer. Her voice is flat, but isn't hollow. Even, at least. She snags a mug with one hand, awkwardly balancing it and her clipboard, as she tries to pour coffee with the other. "You get any sleep yet, or are you still fakin' it and hopin' no one noticed?"

"I slept with Padilla," she states flatly. No laugh or joke, just the statement of fact about the mutual pillow. "Got four hours or so. A lot of the people in ordnance weren't expecting this. Its be a mess, Rooti. Doing the best we can but there's so many people freaking out. I don't understand it. Not everyone was from Gemenon." Denial, what a lovely place.

"We haven't heard about the rest of the Colonies yet," Sera tries to explain, but her face contorts with confusion and concern and denial as she says it. "But none of us really have time to think about that. There's too much work for us to be doin', and that work is the only thing we can do that'll matter, as far as doin' anythin' about any of this horsecrap goes."

"I guess. Still doesn't make any sense to me, Rooti. I feel bad about Gemenon and a little about Caprica, but there's ten other colonies and the fleet is huge. One of the crew? She collapsed on the ordnance elevator and started crying hysterically. Its not like we are going to go fight this big war or everything is gone. We're just one ship. The Navy fights for us." She seems sure of this nodding slowly. But there's that lost confusion in her voice and eyes about the crewman who collapsed. "I don't understand the rush." Kelsey is not dealing with this very well.

There's this moment of hesitation, where Sera just… just wraps her mouth around her coffee cup and swallows it down, forcing the lump in her throat down with it. Buying time before she has to say anything else. "Wescott," Sera begins tentatively. "This is a battlestar. We are the Navy. And the Seventh… the Seventh is just gone. They… they told you, right?"

Kelsey watches Sera with the same blank expression. She doesn't understand. "No, I mean the real Navy. This isn't a real, you know, Navy ship. We're explorers and settlers." Her brow furrows. "Well nobody knows that about the seventh. Its not a fact until someone has seen it. Lots of kids stories and rumors. I don't think it has much weight. That station is huge." She drinks a very slow sip of her water and whispers, "Rooti, I think I should probably get off this cruise. I'd like to go back to Picon and check on Melissa. Think the Master Chief would go to bat for me with Command?"

"I think there's probably goin' to be some info comin' in on the other Colonies over the next couple of days, once they get some birds back there to check the comm channels," Sera replies, reaching up with one hand to rub awkwardly at her jaw — like a man scratching his beard, except there's nothing there for her to busy her fingers with. "Maybe… maybe once we know a little more, yeah?"

"I'm going to ask the Chief if I can get on the one for Picon. I should probably see about that, huh? My parents took Mel to see my grandparents down south a couple days ago and I don't have their number, but I know the address. I'm gonna see if a Raptor crew will drop me off there." Kelsey sighs heavily and finally looks away to her water bottle. That same blank expression, almost as if she were afraid to show something. It might all crumble if she's mishandled. "I think it would probably be best if we go now. I want to come back and finish our cruise, though. That might be the hard part. But I need to make sure. I can't help the ache." She sips at the water. "She's most important to me. Did you know that?" Sera would have to be deaf and a cognitive vegetable to not know that. Kelsey should know that.

"I figured," Sera says with a nod, before going mute again for several minutes. She sucks her cheek in on one side, catching it between her teeth and beginning to gnaw on it, like that'll somehow get some flavor out of it or something. "It sounds like it'd be a good trip. A nice break, y'know? I've been talkin' about takin' a vacation myself. Just lay out on a beach, lookin' out a lake or an ocean or whatever. It'd be a good trip. A nice break."

Kelsey nods a few times, staring at the bottle in her hands. With her head bowed it might be more clear that those sweat stains on her face are really the trackmarks of tears. The stains on her knees, little black drops, look like that's where they fell. Was the hysterical crew member from the ordnance elevator actually Wescott? "A vacation sounds good. I think I could sleep for a week. I miss the water." A pause. "I should find a Raptor." …And Kelsey just turns suddenly and strolls away looking dazed, without another word uttered.

Sera stands there for a few seconds, her eyes trailing after Kelsey to make sure that she does not, in fact, go find a Raptor. Because cracked PO's that aren't certed climbing in cockpits to go visit their daughters on a whim is so totally not what the deck needs right now.

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