AWD #269: Thirty-Second Vacation
Thirty-Second Vacation
Summary: A brief post-sortie interlude on dreams of leave that may never come.
Date: 02/10/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Follows Alert 5 CSAR
Phin Ygraine 
Aircraft Apron — Crandall
The heavily creased and cragged tarmac has seen better days but there is plenty of room for any number of aircraft that need to find ready station and waiting room on the base. The apron spreads out, further away from the runway to the West, but in the immediate vicinity are a few buildings. To the North across a large taxing area are the hangars, spread out in a line that leads away from the central buildings and towards the runway. To the East are the buildings in question, the closest being Operations which is a stark, well built brick building with the heavily reinforced munitions bunker attached. The two buildings are ensconced by an extra chain link fence collapsing at one side and likely no longer worth its weight. Further away and taking up most of the room at Crandall is the AMARG - Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group. The massive dirt storage area for space ready birds has its own apron and large facility. Extra pieces and portions of older birds litter a portion of the side of a building. A long abandoned older Raptor model sits unused and rusting.
AWD #269

The raptors have been running constantly. Ygraine looks pretty beat, purple shadows under her eyes. At the moment she's loitering by the coffee, some pills in one hand, a cup of of the hot stuff in the other.

Phin put his Viper down at Crandall, where it's getting a look-over for damage that can't wait before he takes it back up to the Orion. Which means he's also loitering. He also looks seriously beat, eyes dark-circled, posture slumped now that the adrenaline of combat is wearing off. He comes over to hunt for coffee, idly rolling his neck to try and work out the cricks that've formed in it.

"I think," declares Ygraine wearily, "If I drink both of these and drink th'coffee, my heart will explode." She holds her hand out, palm out. "Wanna split 'em?"

Phin eyes the pills, but shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good." He's plainly exhausted. "Should save it. Teatime and Butch would probably be kind of pissed if your heart blew up. One less backseater and everything." He tries to smile slight, before taking a gulp of coffee. If he's clearly been neglecting his doses of stims, he's mainlining the caffein as if that'll make up for it.

"You been takin' your stims?" Ygraine asks, peering at him curiously. And then, because she always says it noawadays, "Ya really need t'shave that caterpillar off your face."

"I'll take them when I need them," Phin answers. Which means 'no,' loosely translated. "They frak with your judgment and your reaction time. Kind of important if you''re holding a Viper stick." As is being able to keep your eyes open, but he doesn't dwell so much on that just now. "I've got some rack time coming to me anyway when I get back to the Orion." So much as anyone gets rack time now. He might even manage it for an hour or two. Her comment on his mustache makes him laugh, though. "It's not that bad. I just trimmed it."

Ygraine reaches out and tries to tug on it. "It is that bad." she replies with a laugh. "Ya can fly up on our next go up if ya want. There's room." She blinks a bit, admitting, "I got some due too. Not nearly enough. Just gotta suck it up, right?"

"Hey!" Phin's reflexes are not up to deflecting her grabbing at his mustache. He laughs again. It kind of tickles. He first shakes his head at her offer of a lift but, after some thought, that grudgingly turns to a nod. "Yeah. Might be faster. The techs down here might need more time to look at the Viper I flew down. It kind of got tossed around when it took that one hit." The one that barely scratched the paint. It is unlikely that'll prove too problematic. "Thanks." There must be folding chairs where there's coffee, and he slumps into one. "Right. Not like it's going to let up anytime soon. Frak. I guess I knew it'd be like this but…"

She leans into his shoulder briefly, though it's half a nudge and half the need to lean on something. "Yeah, I know what ya mean. Neither of us was expectin' anythin' like this. But it's okay…we're trained for this, right?" Her chuckle is slightly loopy sounding. "I wanna sleep forever."

"It is the job, Yggy V," Phin drawls lazily. The nudge keeps him upright, and he provides her something to lean on without shifting. "I know what you mean. Forever and frakking day. You think we'll get leave after this is over?" He laughs at the idea. Like every other planet isn't blasted or dominated by Cylons. But he asks, kind of loopily, "Where'd you go if we actually could? Like…for vacation. If you could just, like, make everything normal again for a weekend."

"It's th'job." Ygraine says, and with reluctancy, shoves the pills into a pocket and just drinks her coffee. How's she going to sleep otherwise? The question perks her a little. "Didn't ya say there was some good land for a cabin on Scorpia? Somethin' near a lake?"

"The tourist areas they show on the vids are mostly coastal. Tropical spots, like where Janitor and…I think Amazon are from. Or the gulf, where the 'Bay's at." Mention of his homeworld does make Phin think, though. "There are some spots up in the mountains outside Celeste that are like that. The Marine cadets at the Academy branch there do some of their altitude training up there. And it's where some of the nicer paragliding spots are. Never really had the cubits to rent the cabins up there but…that would be nice."

"Hey, as long as we're in th'world of our imagination, go big or go home, right?" Ygraine laughs. "So a'ight. I picked th'spot. What're we gonna do on this vacay?"

"We are owed, like, a frak-ton of cubits in back pay once Fleet Headquarters' payroll gets up and running again," Phin says wry. "This 'mining survey' mission we signed up for came with double hazard pay, remember? Not to mention the grade bumps we've gotten, since we were de-ensigned." He closes his eyes. To better imagine. Also, because closing them feels really good just now. "Paragliding, first thing. It feels un-be-frakking-lievable. Like you're actually surfing the air currents. Like you're weightless. Like you can just…float forever."

"That sounds kinda beautiful." Ygraine says, resuming her lean. "But ya can't spent all day up there. What's th'huntin' like?"

"I don't know. I never tried it. People do, though. They got deer and elk. And, like, bears and stuff. If you'd seriously try and hunt bears." Phin's eyes slit open to look up at her. Would she? "And I bet we could find a decent lake, to go fishing and swimming."

"Bear huntin', huh? Deer and elk at least are edible. Predator meat's kinda gamey." She suddenly grins. "What would ya do if I came home with a bear carcass, huh?"

"I've never tried it. I don't know what I'd do. Say good job?" The image seems to amuse Phin. He gets a tired chuckle out of it. "OK. So. Aside from hunting and killing giant bears and other stuff. Your turn to pick. What else would you want to do?"

"Ya mentioned swimmin'?" Ygraine yawns. "That'd be nice. Without clothes, even. And then just lay on our asses and soak up th'sun."

That image wakes Phin up a little. "Yeah…uh…that'd be pretty fun. The water's kind of cold up in the mountains but…totally not so cold that you, like, need a suit. As long as the weather's right. Which, imagination. So, it is."

"Don't be such a wuss. It'll seem cold at first, but ya get used to it." She laughs. "Ya know we're gonna do it, right? When th'war is over, with all that backpay, we're gonna rent one of those cabins and sleep like ogs."

The thought makes Phin smile. Though, after a beat, he gives his head a little shake. As if to avoid dwelling too long on the image. "Long way off. But…yeah. That all sounds really nice." He makes himself stand up. "I should go tell the techs they can keep my Viper long enough to give it a proper work-over. I'll meet you back at your Raptor, OK?"

"Yeah." she gives him a weary smile. "Won't leave without ya. Promise." With that, she waves him off.

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