AWD #349: When Sagittarians Meet
When Sagittarians Meet
Summary: Gloria has some work related questions for Mallas, he has non-work related ones for her.
Date: 05/06/2016
Related Logs: Saber Updates
Gloria Mallas 
Rec Room - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
With several smaller rec rooms spread throughout the ship, this one is the largest by far and is the primary recreation location aboard the ship. Longer than it is wide, with several hatches in and out, the room is divided by load-bearing beams that section it off into equal thirds. There are a dozen tables, couches, and coffee tables set up — though all of the tables and chairs are the drab metal of the rest of the fleet. The couches seem to have been purchased privately and moved in here at some point in the past, heavy use and careful patching evident. Magazines are strewn around randomly, as are racks of books, plus a couple flatscreen televisions set up. Along one wall are several billiards tables, along with a bar for coffee and snacks.
AWD #349

Off-shift an in her off-duties Gloria hits the rec room armed with a pad of paper an pen. For anyone that knows her this is a dead give away that she's working on something, even if it is after hours. First stop is coffee, however terrible it might be, and then, when armed with a full mug, she turns to survey her surroundings, eyes skipping from face to face, very much as if she's looking for someone in particular.

Private Tony Mallas hasn't actually been aboard the Orion for the last week or two. But wherever he was on his 'vacation,' he's returned just in time for gunnery training, and a full duty shift behind .50 caliber heavy machine-gun at the firing range down on Picon. Off duty again at last, Mallas changes into his greens and makes his way to the rec room. And there he is, hunting through the magazines, hoping to find something 'new' has been acquired while he was off the ship. Not likely.

It takes Gloria until her second pass to note the face she's after, but then he had been looking at a load of magazines. Thats her excuse at least. Heading over she eyes the stack herself for a moment then notes, "the Colonial Geographic is quite good, if you haven't read it a dozen times already." Then, the proverbial ice broken, she sets down her pad and asks, "it is Private Mallas isn't it?" just to make sure she has the right marine.

Mallas looks up from the sports magazine in his hand, one that dates from Orion's first departure on NOMAD duties, and then gives Gloria an odd look. "Oh yeah?" It sounds like he may never have opened a Colonial Geographic, and probably doesn't have much interest even now, despite the recommendation. "I'm PFC Mallas, yeah." And now he's really giving the unknown Petty Officer a really strange look. What does she want? "Whatever you heard, it's probably true."

Gloria drops down onto the nearest chair, although she does make sure that she can still reach that paper. "PO3 Gloria Oates," she says in return, then grins, "splendid, then you can help me." There's a brief pause while she gets a tad more comfortable then she starts, "I was reading the AAR of a hit on a saber site you were part of, on Picon. I've been given the job of looking into their SAM capability and I was wondering if you remember anything from that assault that might be of use?"

Mallas listens to Gloria's explanation, and then he laughs. "Me? I'm just a grunt. They give me a rifle and tell me who to shoot." Still, the Private does try to remember, thinking back to the mission in question. "That was my first combat mission, yeah. I remember it was dark and cold. And I shot this Six right in the chest, and he went down like a sack of shit." Possibly not the details she wants, but he's remembering something at least. "That was after Ynyr and O'Connel tried to sneak in and plant C4, and got spotted. Then it was all hands on deck." The young rifleman's face screws up in concentration. "It blew sky-high when we hit it with an AT rocket. And it was frakkin' hot. Like I had a sun tan afterwards."

"Oh trust me," Gloris replies with a cheery grin, "the dizzying heights of PO3 are not all that dissimilar, just I get to do the leg work the officers are too busy for rather than shoot at cylons." That's like grunt work. She listens to the account impassively, not wanting to prompt until he seems to be done, "sky-high? Damn, I was hoping it might be in tack enough to learn something from, even though it's been a while. You don't happen to remember if any of it remained vaguely intact do you?"

"Ha," Mallas snorts a laugh for Gloria's cheery remark. "I hear that. I guess Officers are the same everywhere." Then there's a quick shake of his head for her question. "It was a frakking big explosion. Don't think there's much left of the command truck or the bunker that blew up. But it was spread out quite a bit. Radar dish here, launch tubes there. Some of that stuff might be left." But more importantly, the Marine has been looking at Gloria curiously for the last few moments, and finally gets around to asking, "Hey, you're Sagittaron, aren't you?"

Gloria takes a long drink of her coffee now it's cooled enough, then nods solumnly at the reply regarding the saber site. "Sounds like it might be best to get an aerial shot of it first then, before wasting time landing to have a poke. Thanks." She doesn't make notes of that detail, that much she's fairly sure she can remember. Then, at his question she flashes a quick smile and nods "is it that obvious?"

"Yeah," Mallas agrees that might save a trip. "Guess you could tell whatever officer's in charge. Maybe they'd send somebody else to do the leg work." Then he grins broadly at her answer to his question. "Naw. I'm Sagittaron too. Southern region. Upper Skye valley. You?" A pretty remote area. 'Where are you from ?' may be one of the first questions you ask in the military, but Mallas actually looks excited to meet someone else from his home Colony.

"Upper Skye?" Gloria replies, tilting her head as she looks at him, "isn't that where those uber-religious nutters live? You know the ones, farming and temple and nothing else." She can't think of the name given for now, but she figures that might be enough for him, if she's got the area right. "Me? CFAB Argolis I'm afraid, just outside Tawa. Was there until I was about three, then we moved again. My parents were both with the fleet so it depended on where they were posted. It's on all my papers though, so I figure it's the closest thing to home I had. Used to go back for the school holidays, stay with my dad's family."

"Yeah …" Mallas admits that Gloria has the right of it, though with some reluctance. "Followers of the Fates. That was my folks." It's a funny sort of expression that settles over his face, like he hasn't thought about this for a long time, and is susprised to find himself doing so now, even though he brought it up. But he shakes it off quickly and smirks at Gloria's response. "Military brat? What'd you want to go back there for?"

"Could be worse," Gloria notes as she takes another drink, "at least they're not the Kalebian Justice lot. They took religious nuttery to an entirely new level." There's a nod as she confrims that yes, she is a military brat then shrigs once as she answers his question, "Tawa wasn't too bad all told, and it had the advantage of having family who weren't in uniform, or working odd shifts all the time. I saw most of the colonies while growing up, but never the salubrious parts, just bass and their immediate vacinity. So I guess the summers were when I got a bit more freedom, no base curfew, no MP patrols making sure the kids weren't causing a disturbance, you know how it is."

"If you're going to get crazy about your faith," Mallas says with a shrug, "Might as well go all the way." Then he laughs for her experiences on Sagittaron. "I saw a lot of jack and shit growing up. Mostly shit. Farming is pretty frakking dull. Didn't see Tawa until I left home to join the Corps. My folks acted like it was a gateway to Hades." An admission that causes the young rifleman to look thoughtful again, for a second. Then he shakes his head. "Guess it is now." Which may not be the best thing to follow up with, "Hey, you want to get a drink sometime?"

"There's going crazy about your faith, and there's kidnapping children and killing senators," Gloria replies, meaning the Vanos bunch, not Mallas', "but I'll bow to your superiour knowledge on farming. I don't think I'd ever even seen a farm until I was twelve, and that was on a school trip on Scorpia. Mostly what I remember is the smell." She wrinkles her nose at that, clearly not having been impressed with it at all. Then, as he asks his question she tilts her head slightly to consider him, "tell you what Private, I'm busy for a while with projects, but Saturnalia is coming up, and I've put in for leave the day after so I can enjoy the night. How about you buy me a drink then?"

"Yeah, there's that," Mallas admits. He's not condoning kidnapping and murder, but they've all seen their share of horrible things since the war started, and jaded he does seem to be. There's a smirk for her comment about the farm smells, and then he shakes his head. "Odds of me getting off duty for Saturnalia are pretty frakking slim. But if the Gods are good, you're on." Then he looks past Gloria, spotting a Marine NCO coming into the rec room. "Frak. That's Sergeant Darling. I've got to go before he spots me." And true to his word, the Private beats a hasty retreat, taking the sports magazine with him.

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