AWD #272: Todays Medical Department
Todays Medical Department
Summary: Leightner lures Jena into the very heart of Marine country.
Date: Wed Oct 05 15:04:20 2005 (Sat Oct 05 15:04:20 2013)
Related Logs: None
Jena Leightner 
Mess Hall Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Crew Mess on the Orion is one of the larger rooms meant for occupation. The room is far longer than it is wide with the classic stainless steel tables that can be seen anywhere else on the ship, standard to all navy ships. Most of the chairs match, their padding on the seats worn down after several years. Towards the rear of the room is the food prep area and serving lines. During the time in between meals the Mess will serve midrats, or 'mid-shift rations', such as sandwiches and drinks. Coffee pots are left to run at all hours to keep people going as needed.
AWD #272

Fade In

So, her food is mostly gone, the milk too, but Jena seems in no hurry to leave this time, actually settling back in her seat and enjoying doing absolutely nothing at the moment. As Leightner arrives and has a seat, she offers him a friendly smile. "Hey PO." Sitting up a little. "Since I met you the first day, our paths have just been crossing briefly. How are you settling in on Orion?" Everyone seems to be filing out, but still, Jena makes no move to go.

Leightner nods in a companionable way, "Been busy. Good busy, settling into Sickbay, helping the injured Marines stay sane, you know. Likely be boots back on once this lot get sprung." He smiles, "Settling in well, really. Thanks fer yer help. Appreciate it. Hopefully, between me and Silas, you'll be able to focus on yer Air Wing more." Different sides of Medical. She owns Air Wing, as far as he is concerned. He's Marines. Parajumper/Corpsman sides of the coin.

"Yeah, I'm sure glad to see you guys come around. It's been busy around everywhere since the invasion of Picon." Lacing her fingers together, Jena settles her forearms on the edge of the table. "There've been a few SARs lately, I've worked with the Marines, but we were searching for a Pilot and an ECO. Other one we found a whole group of Marines almost all of the, were injured in some way. Got them all out, alive and dead alike, except for two who didn't make it." It bothers her, the words are grudgingly given. "I'd like to get them out. No man left behind and all that. Think we could get something together for the extraction or do you figure they'll rule it a waste of time?"

Leightner stops, listening intently, and shakes his head, "Happens, Jena." He says kindly, but very very certain of his words. "Anyway ya do it, don't focus on tha lost." He purses his lips and shakes his head, "I don't know if Command'll greenlight a drop, but if they're plannin, an you're givin input," He focuses on her, "Throw me chip in." Then, a look on his face. Might be too Virgonese, so he says, "I'll volenteer fer any drop to help, extra pair of hands, extra gun an Medkit if ya have somethin needs doin. Aye?"

Reaching into a pocket, Jena withdraws two coins. For a moment, she holds them in her closed hand before opening it. "Corporal Howard Holcomb and Corpsman David Chandler." Reciting the names that are imprinted on the coins without her actually looking down at them. She carries the coins though, carries the burden. "Sure," lifting her gaze, she gives a smile that even manages to meet her eyes as her hand closes over the coins again. "I'll do that. If I can get anyone to listen. Especially if I can just hitch a ride on a Raptor heading in that direction."

Leightner nods, "Aye." He looks at the coins and straightens slightly. He knows exactly what they are and how she got them. He swallows and says, "If yer ever in tha Marine Enlisted Berthings, you'll likely want ta know, I'm in Six-B, Bottom Six, However ya call it, that's me spike. Under the overhand, by the foot in the bunk is me Go Bag. Full MEdkit. If ya need it, take it, I know you'll respect it enough to use it proper an let me know when ya do."

Shoving her hand back in her pocket, one of many on her uniform, each pocket assigned different items, always in the same place, memorized for emergencies. Releasing the coins, Jena withdraws her hand again, now empty, and attempts for a lighter mood. "Sure thing, I have a few friends in the Marines, so I visit there now and again." Both brows arch at the offer. "Thank you, really. I know how important a pack is to a medic." Respect. "Let me know if you need anything also."

Leightner nods, smiling, "Aye." He says, looking at her. There's a sort of shift in his smile. There's a flavor to it now. siblingish? Mebbe. Likely, depending on if Jenas familiar with that kind of look. "I'll do that." He takes the sausage, and takes a bite. Don't think, just chew.

Siblingish? Jena can handle that, so when it's given, she returns it rather easily. Using her fork, she stirs around some of the meat like substance in her tray. "If you ever want to do any training together, I'm available too. Weapons, Swimming, Diving, Sparring, Pyramid." Offering a few suggestions, her lips hitching up at the last one though.

Leightner shakes his head, swallowing, "Never really got inta pyramid. An I don't gamble, but I do Deal Triad" He smirks, "Everything else sounds good. Time in tha range. Haven't been doin that on me own couse." He looks at her, nodding, "Ya know we both could be workin ten seconds from now." He smirks, taking another bite. "Whots cha preferred loadout?" Slightly thicker accent around sausage as he chews, still not grossly.

"I've noticed Pyramid is like that, either someone is a fan and plays or they have nothing to do with it." Jena muses quietly. "I like the range, haven't spent any time there yet since being here though, like you said, gone too often to really do anything much than work." But from her expression, the mention of work, she loves what she does. "M-4 Rifle with rail interface systen and sidearm is standard issue." (Or whatever the equivalent they use on BSG)

Leightner tsks, grinning, "Door gunna" He grins widely, nodding. "I use a Picon Five-Seven with the underslung ERL fer tha explosive round option. It's a good standard issue sidearm, but depending on tha Orders of MarDet order of tha day, I have an SMG an an Assault Rifle Loadout. Lately it's been the Rifle, so I carry a Picon P90. It's a good Assault rifle with no frakkin barrel. Right sling ya can slide tha bastard up to ya back right smart an have ya hands free fer tha real work with tha Medkit."

"Door gunner, yeah." Jena laughs, wearing a look of chagrin. "Definitely that's one of my duties." As he lists off his own armaments, she listens, imagining each of the, as he says them. "Oh yeah I can see where the Picon P90 would be the best bet. Simple to use and small enough to keep out of the way and just within reach should it be needed." Once more, Respect. "Maybe I should try that one instead. Thanks!" So, her meal is done. "Want to hit the range right now?"

Jena clarifies. "After you eat, I mean."

Leightner shrugs swallowing, then stops, thinking, "Ahhh, Aye, I see it now. I should schedule a Raptor Drill, can ya help me with that? That way you an I can work better togeather on Drops an Extractions." He looks at her, "I mean I know you have ta wait fer authorization or battin ya eyes at some deck apes ta get access ta a Raptor." He shrugs, "But I think it might help. We can hit the range though from here." He looks at the rest of the sausage. Oh yes, your time has come. Half of the remaining goes into his mouth and he starts eating this sumbitch like a Marine.

Interest lights her eyes and Jena offers a slow nod as she thinks about it and agrees at the same time. "Sure, I think that'd be great. I'm sure I could appropriate you a Raptor." When he looks at her, she smirks, but it's more a playful look. "Batting my eyes? I prefer directness than coy maneuvers. Don't you?" Laughter follows, but it's quiet, nothing like the guffaws from some Pilots across the way. "Just let me know when and where and I'll see what I can do."

Leightner shakes his head, Sausage is half gone. He takes his cup and drinks, "Anytime, ya can see me duty schedule, but I'm likely going below soon, to Picon." He shrugs, then looks at her, "Better idea. Go. to ya bunk an strap for combat deployment, and meet me in the security station fer weapon aquisition, we'll talk Guns." He pronounces that capital G. Then he shoves the last of the food in his mouth, takes his tray and he's moving, like NOW.

Wistful is about the only way to describe her expression now as she scoops up her own tray and her pack that was underneath the edge of the table, slinging it over one shoulder. "Picon hm? Wish I was going down there, but not until the pilots do. Once they're down, I'll be going too, but until then, I'm here in Sickbay unless a call comes in." Heading for the dumping site, she rids herself of the tray and grins. "I carry my gear everywhere." With both hands free now, she lifts her pack to her back now. "Just don't have anything but my sidearm on me."

Leightner nods as he rises, pointing to himself as he moves to the recyc tray. He's going to the Berthings and he'll be there. He's moving, he's hauling actually, to drop off his tray and gone.

Security Hub Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Wed Oct 05 17:05:09 2005 AWD #272 — Sat Oct 05 17:05:09 2013

The beating heart of the Marine Corps' presence aboard the Orion, the Security Hub is the main dispatch station for all security and armed response personnel aboard the ship. Staffed to the gills no matter the day or time, there are usually a half-dozen armed Marines stationed here at all times — tasked with keeping tabs on the smaller patrols roving throughout the ship. Mahogany desks line the bulkheads to port, most of which are filled by grunts doing paperwork. In a pinch, Marines use them as benches while gearing up for patrols or raids. At the rear of the room, two flags — one bearing the Colonial Phoenix, the other bearing the Marine Corps insignia — flank a single massive hatch leading aft towards the Armory. To starboard, a smaller hatch leads to the offices of the Battalion's Headquarters Company and to the detention cells beyond.

+==~~~~~====~~~~====~~~~===~~~~~ Condition: 2 ~~~~~~==~~~~====~~~~====~~~~~==+
Exits: [AC] Aft Corridor [AR] Armory
[BR] Brig [HQ] Battalion HQ
[MA] Master-At-Arms
Jena arrives from the Aft Corridor.
Jena has arrived.

Welcome to the beating Heart of the Marine Corps of the ship. Marines as far as the eye can see. Leightner is not here, but the Desk Sergeant looks up. Monitors in the back showing corridors of the ship, MPs everywhere.

So, Jena arrives before Leightner apparently and she takes a moment to look around, mostly people watch. Preferred weapons are noted and a few familiar faces are acknowledged with a nod. Finally, her gaze settles on the hatch leading towards the armory. The magic shop.

Leightner comes in through the door. In hard cover. The lanky man is in frakking BATTLE ARMOR. Helmet, and everything, blue brassard denoting Medic on his arm and the Marines as perfectly normal, he sees Jena and walks to her, pouches and medpack slung low. He nods, to the Armory, "Ready?"

When Leightner comes in, Jena does a double take. And a triple. Damn. Kicking herself a reminder. Siblingish. *Cough.* Only another medic who went in with danger all around them understood completely what the other went through, and she'd noticed the look about the coins earlier. It was nice to be understood. When he nods to the very place she had been looking, she nods in return. "Let's do this."

Leightner nods moving to the Desk Sergeant, nodding and moving to the side of the Desk, leading. That the Corpsman is going to the Armory in battle dress is more normal than Jena here, and there's a few you know, Looks. But Leightner opens the hatch to the Armory.

Armory Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Wed Oct 05 17:19:43 2005 AWD #272 — Sat Oct 05 17:19:43 2013

Behind the thickly armored hatch is the Marine Corps Armory, one of the most secure places aboard the ship. Its entrance foyer is dominated by a solid steel desk bolted into the deck, one capable of functioning as a bunkered position hardened to withstand nearly any kind of incoming munition. The desk is cordoned off from the room's storage compartments by a veritable forest of thick steel bars. And in those compartments are cases overflowing with rifles, pistols, grenades, and various other sundry dealers of doom and death. While not nearly as extensive as the armories aboard assault ships, the Armory's stores still contain more than enough ordnance to render it one of the most well-guarded rooms aboard.

+==~~~~~====~~~~====~~~~===~~~~~ Condition: 2 ~~~~~~==~~~~====~~~~====~~~~~==+
Exits: [SH] Security Hub
Jena arrives from the Security Hub.
Jena has arrived.

Jena follows him in, of course her gaze drifts from the Corpsman to the surrounding room. Taking a few steps towards the compartments with the rifles. "I've got armor too, but I don't wear it all over Orion. I have it within a short distance though for when I get a call." Offering only that as an explanation.

Leightner moves into the Armory, and the entire feel of the place is, 'We have no sense of humor here.' These guys are serious about guns. Leightner approaches the Desk and the Marine Ensign there, lifts his brows, "A thirty-Two, please sir?"
The Enisgn nods, and loads a clipboard with pen and sets it on the desk, "We got three open sections."
Leightner takes the clipboard and nods, looking to Jena shrugging, "If I'm gonna hotdrop it's gonna be like this." He explains, "It's whut I'll wear in Raptor drills." He starts writing, "This is a requisition request for a cleaning kit, and actual firearms." He smiles, "Maintenance drills. Looks good on ya reviews too." He writes, "Picon Five-Seven, Picon P90." he looks to her now, "Whaddaya like?"

Jena doesn't say much once inside, this is his world and she's already feeling out of place. While Leightner speaks to the Ensign, Jen salutes him. "Sir." Course then she steps forward also when she is spoken to again. "Yeah," she says quietly. "Same, Picon P90."

Leightner nods, then smiles, "Let's just go with me full array." He writes, "VMS-7. Full Sim ammo." He nods, "Non firing bullets, but the right weight and feel." He hands the clipboard back as the Ensign returns salute with the same motion as he takes the clipboard, "Three." He says, moving back. Yeah, there's an alcove with tablespace and helpful signs reminding you how much trouble you will be in if you screw up here. /You ARE being watched./ Those kinds of signs. Also the wall of the Alcove above the counterspace.. is Mirrored. You can almost imagine all of CIC on the other side, but you can see the fact that your privacy is an illusion that no one believes. Leightner heads to the alcove marked 3, at a leisurely stroll.

"Full array, sure." Jena watches mostly, reading whatever it is she can as the papers are filled out. when they are directed to Three, she follows, taking note of the warning signs, the mirror. Not that she'd planned on doing any screwing up. This was definitely not the time or place for it. When the Corpsman heads there, she quietly follows, looking at the other alcoves along the way.

The Ensign comes from the back with a rolling cart with weapons on it Picon 5-7 pistol VMS-7 Submachine gun and the largest, the Picon P90 Assault rifle. Each weapon has three magazines for each set aside them and boxes of what look like bullets. But they're orange. In other Alcoves Crewmen are studying for Firearms Quals. Snipes cramming for tests. Electricians brushing up on gun workings. In Three, the Ensign eventually gets there, and offers the new Clipboard. Leightner signs and hands it to Jena.

It's creepy. It's the requisition form. At the bottom where Leightner signed it has his name printed out. Under it it has Your Name and Serial number printed out. Your identity has been confirmed on sight, apparently. They know. And there's a line for you to sign on. The simple fact that the Armory Ensign is in fact armed with a sidearm and you very much doubt His bullets are fake.

While waiting in Three, Jena looks at Leightner and his armor, his medical band and his pack. This time though, she says little except.. "Looks like you're ready to take on the Cylons." Just an observation. Watching the Ensign approach with the rolling cart, she once more offers an acknowledgement. A nod. When the clipboard is offered to her, her eyes flicker over him in surprise. "Oh." Right. Name, rank, serial number. Brows arch as she offers her own signature. "How efficient. I like that." Offering the clipboard back now.

The Ensign nods, retaking the clipboard, and nodding, "Let us know when you're done." He turns and walks off as Leightner moves to the tray taking the P90 and settling the strap across his shoulders, and turns back holding the weapon, "Now I feel ready ta take on tha Cylons." He grins, then throws the weapon in a downward motion, the gun sliding on the strap around his frame, he tugs on the strap sharply, and it's.. gone as he's facing her. he tenses, hands hovering over his pouch as he drops to one knee able to get down over a patient, and the gun, is lateral under his backpack. tucked away, and out of his range of motion accidentally. "How many rifles can ya do this with. This be me friend Jena, the P90."

"Yes, Sir." Jena replies to the Officer. Still, Jena stands back and watches while he takes the P90, taking the lesson for what it was. When he kneels, the weapon is out of the way and she grins in return. "Looks like you've got it all covered. I like that. If needed, is it as easy to get, to take in your hand to defend the very patient you're attempting to save?" She reaches for the other P90 and tests the weight of it, the strap, sliding it, learning the feel.

Leightner rises as the problem with Armory requisition comes. One P90. He pulls the gun off himself, "No, not really. Defense over a patient fall back to sidearm." He nods seriously. "This is purely to get to the patient fast, Infintry responce. Time is tissue." He points to the mirror, "Look." He says as he settles the strap across her shoulder settling the gun down from above, "Now, stock under your arm here." He presses the butt up under the non dominant arm, then showing the forward grip, "There, and sight down the top." He runs a finger down the top of the gun, "Magazine. Always have a visual count of yer bullets with a translucent magazine." He steps away to let her look at herself holding it.

Oops, when there isn't another P90, Jena just watches him a moment, though as he stands and pulls off the gun, she nods. "Sidearms always do in a pinch, but yeah they're for closer range." Course he knows that, she bets. When he settles the strap over her, and follows it with the weapon, she watches in the mirror, lifting her arm for him to press the butt up, grasping the grip. There's a nod offered and when he steps away, she looks towards him then back to the mirror where she does look at herself holding it. After a moment, she attempts to do as he did, sling it back so it disappears. She fails. A rueful smile is given. "I suppose it takes a lot of practice."

Leightner shakes his head, moving up behind her, "Nope, need to adjust the strap, ya wee thing." He moves up behind her, and starts cinching the strap, the weapon coming up to a more accessaible position, "Now take it up to firing position, an I'll explain it."

Jena lifts the weapon up, looking down the sight, finger not on the trigger, safety on. She remains there as he adjusts the strap, turning her head a little to look at him. "Sure," she immediately agrees.

Leightner smiles as he stands behind her, looking at her through the reflection, "I's simple and there's a trick." He reaches around her, pulling the gun downward, "You throw, to get it sliding…" He slides the gun on the strap about her shoulders, straightening, "Opposite hand, to the strap at the shoulder." He reaches around to about where a ripcord is and the buckle slides over her shoulder. "Buckle." He takes it, "So you feel.." He pulls sharply and the weapon presses RIGHT to her spine. She feels it there as his pull tightened the strap so it's tight, not painfully, but… Leightner steps away, "How's that feel? Can ya Treat? Buckle's the key to tightening it as far back as ya can."

In the mirror, Jena turns her head back to watch, her expression studying, concentrating. She doesn't like to fail at things, so she pays close attention so she can get it done right the.. second time. Watching him as she shows her the simple trick, the beginnings of another smile break through the serious expression. The question has her kneeling down on one knee, as she'd done so many times before to treat the wounded, and she reaches back for her pack, finding it within easy reach with no inhibitors. A look of amazement replaces all the others prior, and of thanks, as she stands back up. "Wow.. incredible! Thank you."

Leightner claps his hands, and holds them to you. "Thas it. IT's the only rifle that works with really. Everything else, with a barrel?" He shakes his head. "And by the way, The P90 and the Picon 5-7 over there? Same Ammo." He nods, "So ya can load up. She's the smallest o tha Assault rifles, true, but she's real accurate."

Leightner Amends, "A bullet scalpel," Grin.

"I like the way it fits, the weight, basically everything about it." Even the shortness of the barrel doesn't bother her. "You know, you probably just helped me lose a lot of weight," Jena teases, turning sideways and looking at the mirror. Yeah the gun was definitely lighter. "It's more compact." Glancing over at the Picon 5-7, she grins. "Convenient, that. I definitely want to try this one in the Range, get a feel for it before I take it out on any missions. I want to make sure I don't overcompensate on the weight or anything."

Leightner takes one of the translucent Plasteel magazines, ans passes a hand over the ammo boxes, the bullets being manipulated by his fingers, it's fun, and a little wierd, the bullets slot into the weapon, bright orange, till there's fifteen in there, and he flips the magazine, loaded with dummy bullets before holding out an empty, "Get the feela these."

Jena watches him, his hands, the way he manipulates the bullets, slotting them into the weapon. After a moment, she reaches out and accepts the empty, feeling the weight of it. Lifting her gaze to his, she smiles. "I thought I was good with weapons and knew a lot. I was wrong." Once more, Respect.

Leightner shakes his head, "I'm gunna be fumblin around tha Raptor, Jena. We're gunna help each other." He hold out the 'loaded clip, "Not much heavier but. Set em down an I'll show you the reload, and priming. Bring her up to firing position."

"I look forward to helping you too then." Jena reaches for the loaded clip and tests the weight of it versus the empty. She sets them down and brings the weapon up once more to firing position.

Leightner nods, moving beside her, "Now." His hands, those strong, doctors hands, take her forward hand, and lifts it to settle on the top of the weapon near the rear sights, cool translucent plasteel against her palm in a curve. His thumb guides hers to a small lever. "Thar." He lets go, "That lever will pop the Mag out into yer palm. Now, tha spring fer tha is the first thing ta go on the gun, but it works fine by just pulin after ya hit the clip. and you'll see how to slot it back in. go on, get the feel.

Watching him in the mirror, until his hands move on hers, then Jena looks down to where their hands are joined and nods slightly, not wanting to bump his head with hers. Docilely she allows him to direct her hand near the rear sights, feeling the coolness of the plasteel. With his thumb on hers, she looks back towards the mirror at him, just looking at his expression for a moment before looking back down where her thumb rests on the small lever. She moves it, deftly catching the magazine in her hand. Immediately, she pops it back in, doing it a couple of times. "Seems almost too easy and I like the lightweight of it all."

Leightner grins, "Oh, one day, Jena, yer gonna crest some terrain out the side of a Raptor, an see me in tha shit, me P90 with me, an yer gonna open up with tha door gun completely save me arse, then whisk us away to safety, an I'm jus gunna be glad I could show ya." He gestures at the rifle, "This." He chuckles, nodding. "Now, the prime is on tha right hand side there, tha lever, shove forward ta cock it. Then ya can pull that trigger fer a nice click."

Jena flashes another smile, relaxing just a little as she becomes more familiar with it all, hopefully not looking like an incompetent fool. "If you ever need saving, just call me." Course, she knows he has no control over that, but she's having fun with the light hearted banter. So, now time for the rifle. She doesn't cock it, having no intention to dry fire the weapon. But she does get a feel for the leverl to pull and the feel of the trigger.

Leightner nods, "Yer select is juse above tha Trigger, Safe, Single shot, 3Round an Auto. Now ya got a mag of fifteen, thas not a lot an the ammos small, so yer lookin fer a clear shot or jus throwin bullets tha way." He councils, all through it, Sibling." Tha bullet jam is most commonly fixed by workin tha lever ta pop tha bullet out of tha chamber. Shells eject ta tha starboard." He reaches over tapping the slot, "Here."

Keeping the rifle raised as if sighting it, or shooting it, Jena looks over every detail he points out to her, getting a feel for the select. Three round was most popular with her, when facing several of the enemy. "Fifteen, okay." Offering a small nod. "Alright," watching where he indicates for the ejection of the spent shell. Finally, she lowers it and holds it with both hands. "Are they hard to clean? I usually service my own."

Leightner shakes his head. "Not really Course try not to let it get dropped in mud or that kinda shite, but there's a manual document ye can read over. The official word." He grins, "Then ya can try fer some range time fer real. Ya can do it all now on yer own fer the P90."

"Hopefully, I'm never in the mud that long, but I confess, not so long ago on Picon, maybe a week? I was in the sewers, rescuing a pilot and an ECO. The pilot didn't make it. A specialist and the ECO did." But they had gotten everyone out. "I look forward to the range time." A bemused smile curves her lips. "Thank you."

Leightner smiles, nodding, and reaches over, taking up the smaller weapon, "This is the VMS-7 Submachine gun." He looks at her and suddenly, leans to her getting into her face, "A fine VIRGONESE weapon!" He straightens, smiling, "VMS stands for Virgon Military Submachinegun. This is the Mark Seven an she has a long an proud heritage." He pauses, "Except fer the VMS-4 but we don't talk about that."

Looking at the smaller weapons when he picks it up, Jena lifts both brows. "Submachine gun?" Though then he is leaning in, getting in her face and her shoulders shake as she laughs. "That makes it better automatically." A smile slants across her lips. "I've been there before. Several times." Once more she laughs. "And why don't we talk about that one?"

Leightner makes a noise, "It was Bollocks." He sniffs hard, and nods, grunting, "Standin around, holding powerful guns feeling badass. Todays Medical Department." He poses with the VMS looking Fierce, then looks at Jena, expectantly, posing for the mirror. "C'mon." Full Battle hardcover he's in remember.

Jena coughs. "Right. So, it must have been an import." Falling in line with the whole humor of the situation. She lifts an arm, flexing a 'muscle' for him before reaching for the P90 and baring her teeth on the mirror taking on a more aggressive stance as she growls. "Medical badass. See, I'm so tough I don't need armor?" Able to laugh at herself, but her eyes are drawn to him instead.

/You are being Watched/

The sign sits there, quietly. Leightner straightens, grinning, "Mind, if the orders are for an SMG loadout it's kind of rare. It's usually either, Sidearms only, or full Rifle an cover, the SMG orders are fer unusual situations or if Ammo's short, but as I say, 5.7 Ammo around here is pretty common, the heavier ammo types, not often."

Right, watched. Jena doesn't seem to mind, but she does straighten, still wearing the goofy smile while she listens to him explain about the ammo and the release of the guns for different situations. "Alright." Committing that to memory for the future.

Leightner nods, "So fer each order, I have a preferred loadout." He sweeps his hand across the weapons, "so, when I'm dropping I can activate a preset loadout an they have it in the back. Ya saw how fast The Ensign brought em out?"

Okay, back to serious. "Yeah, he was really quick with it." Jena nods, noting the observation. "I've never really spent any time on a battlestar before, this is all new, but most armories work the same way, for the most part."

Leightner nods, "I don't know if Raptors have Weapon lockers, I know there be Smaller Arms lockers by tha Hangar. Ya can ask fer a loadout ta drop with once yer comfortable enough with a P90." He smiles, "Everyone wants us comfortable with our weapons. An I honestly believe in tha P90 fer us Medicals."

"You've made a believer out of me, too." Jena offers, still holding that very weapon in her hands. She shakes her head. "I've not really used any lockers on a Raptor, but they have a basic medical kit on there. Very basic." A knowing look to the PO. "I do use one in the hangar though. Mostly where I keep my heavier armor."

Leightner nods, "A-3's I believe?" Yep, the classification for the Raptor grab bags. Basic stuff, better than a rock. Everyone here keeps better in their pockets and forgets about them.

"Yeah, A-3's," Confirming what he already knew. Jena glances once more towards the mirror and her lips tilt into a crooked half smile. Watched, right. "Well, ready to get outta here?"

Leightner looks at the VMS-7, and smiles, shaking his head, "I don't think ya need this. I really don't." He sets the SMG down on the cart, but gestures to allow her, "If ya feel good with this, Aye. We can go an check out." He says, looking to…. The Desk. "Where from here?"

Fade Out

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