MD #150: Yari in the Middle
Yari in the Middle
Summary: Orion's newest corpsman meets two others with vested interests in P
Date: Sat 06/Sep/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: No
Toby Lleufer Yari 
Mess Hall - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Crew Mess on the battlestar 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.
23/Mar/2049 (IC Date)

It's been a long time since Toby was one to eat with a large group. Not really since the height of the Deck vs Anyone-Who-Might-Even-Think-About-Accepting-Skinjobs in the early days of the last war. Forty years ago, technically, even if it only feels like 20. Since his reenlistment he's generally eaten with small groups of others vets, or on his own, and today is apparently no different, helped by the fact that the main rush is over, and it's just the last stragglers coming through before the end of service. He has his back to the corner, so he can see the entire room, but he doesn't actually seem to be paying much attention to it, just picking slowly at his food as if he has a lot on his mind and nowhere to be in any hurry.

The Master-at-Arms barely arrives in time to get himself a tray and some chow before he'll hit the rack for sleep. After he got off shift he went and hit the gym for a while to work out, then shower, now Mess. Lleu goes through the line and gets a double helping of fish they got from Aquaria, a side of steamed vegies, sharp cheese, and dried fruit. To finish it off he snags a tall decaf iced tea and then is on his way to find somewhere to sit. Like Toby, the MP likes best to have his back to a wall so he can see who's coming up so Ynyr eyes the bulkhead tables and goes to settle near to Shackleton's table. In tanks and tags, Lleu's arms are bared as he slides his tray onto the table and starts to take a seat.

She's survived a week aboard the Orion, almost, just one-day shy. Six days is by far the longest period endured beyond the screech and clamour of her rambunctious boys, beyond the warm snuggles of her baby girl. Far as Yari can remember, the previous running record was the nine hours spent delivering Ionia, when Titos kept the boys preoccupied elsewhere on the grounds. So, six days gone by, it's probable that she'll survive a seventh. Then an eighth. Yari marches herself numbly into the mess hall, hair still damp from the swim and shower. It's been braided, then wound into a knot at the back of her neck while still tameable with an assist from the wet.

Toby does not seem to be about to burst with joy at the sight of Lleufer heading in his direction, but the marine does at least get a single nod to acknowledge his presence. Yari he doesn't know, but then there are so many new faces about these days, how's an old man supposed to remember them all? She also gets a nod though, should she head over. For now though his attention turns back to Lleu, and he greets him with a straight to the point, "any news on the schedule from medical yet?"

Yari gets a hand raised from Lleufer to get her attention, "Hey, Yari, come sit with me? Like to put a few questions to you, if you don't mind." And it’s good to invite new people to sit with you so they aren't left out, right? There's a new tat on his upper right arm, still faintly red and puffy though it's a few days old now. It seems to be a slightly stylized mountain range with a sun coming up over from behind the mountains, enclosed within a circular form with another circle around it that could be symbolic. A few fading stars linger around the edges of the spreading sunlight, specific to a very particular mountain range and season back on Piraeus - if one were familiar enough to recognize them. "Are you settling in all right? Did I hear that Doctor Stone is going to train you up to become a medic or Corpsman?" Ynyr turns his head at the sound of Toby's voice, "No, I assume you need to go in and schedule something with the CMO yourself. Flynn's forwarded the paperwork to Samtara, as far as I know. If they pass you through medical, then Randy's likely to have me start putting you through some intensive PT."

Yari lags behind just a little from Lleu in filling her own tray. The whole lockeroom situation is still something she's yet to adjust to, and as such seems hell bent on making up for the awkward moments by covering herself in as many layers as uniformly possible, when dry. She starts to heap things onto her plate while belatedly mirroring the nod she /thought/ was meant for her, by the older man way over there. Fish, fish, something green, a little cheese, and a cup of tea to top off the unenthusiastically selected meal. She's about through with pouring the hot water when the self-proclaimed 'space elf' catches her in the act and hails her over. She obliges!

"Yes, sir," Yari confirms once she's closed the distance to a chair a polite distance away and cuts a second glance over to Toby. "I—far as I understand, I'll be made a corpsman first, to catch up on the training and the schooling. Sir." She pokes a fishy scale with the tine of her fork, examining the shape and whatever colour is left. It had a name, once.

Toby shakes his head once, "she said she would arrange it." It's a fairly matter-of-fact reply, and it barely seems like he's considered the marines might be delaying in the hope he'll change his mind. At the mention of PT he just smiles faintly back, challengingly, "do your worst. I'll chase it up with the Lieutenant though, make sure the paperwork isn't stuck somewhere." It's only as he's starting to turn back to his own meal that he spots the tattoo and that causes him to stop. Stop moving and stop eating, breathing and such still occurs though. A faint frown forms on his features, although it's slight enough to be unclear as if it stems from thought or disapproval but he makes no effort to hide the fact that he's basically staring at the marine's arm for a few moments. "Corpsman," he greets largely automatically as Yari sits, although he does tear his eyes away from Lleu for long enough to say it to her face at least. Then it's back to that view and after another moment or two he leans back in his chair and sets his fork down. "If I couldn't see from here that that's for real I'd be asking if this was some sort of test," he notes with a dead flat tone, "so tell me, accidental, or deliberate?" Sorry Yari, you just walked in on a loaded bit of history.

Lleufer gives Yari an encouraging smile, "I'm not an officer. You don't need to 'sir' me. I'm an NCO. Gunny is fine as my rank is Gunnery Sergeant. Or you can call me Master-at-Arms, or Ynyr." His own fish fillets are encrusted with herbs and if they had any of the frozen lemon slices out, Lleu'd have grabbed one to thaw and dribble the juice over his fish. At least the fish is reasonably fresh, even if it was frozen. The Marine digs in like any Jarhead, packing his meal away with relish after a workout. Ynyr pauses in his eating to look back over to Toby to listen to what Shackleton has to say while he takes a drink of his tea. "Doesn't hurt to followup with Doc Stone if you don't hear from her after a few days." The Gunnery Sergeant looks back to Yari to see if she's eating well or just picking at her food. Toby's latter comments turns Lleu's head back, "Is what acciden…" His own question back to Shackleton isn't finished as he realizes -what- Toby is staring at. He glances at his bare arm, then back to the Deckie and meets Toby's eyes solidly, "It's not test, but yes, it's quite intentional. /Personal/." The last bit is clearly a challenging tone as if to ask 'what's it to you?'.

Toby considers that reply for a few more seconds, but not quite long enough for it to get into the uncomfortable range. "Interesting choice," he notes first, then, after reaching for his water and taking a sip to wet his lips, "whoever did it got the sun wrong though." His tone is still heavily neutral, like he hasn't yet decided how to take this new development. "It's nice work mind, but it should look like mine." He points to the 'o' in his Sol Invictus tattoo, with its small dot in the centre. The same motif is repeated elsewhere on his body, but that one is by far and away the easiest to show people, especially in public places. Then, levelly, to be sure, "unless it was accidental?"

Oh, snap. Yari's brows go up but her gaze goes DOWN as the convo between men turns a little bit tense. She does her best to just become one with the chair and sets to work packing in the calories with /smaller/ bites.

Lleufer eats a bit more of his own meal and after another drink of his tea, Ynyr casually looks at Toby again, ready for a fight if one is coming. But not tense, just … ready, should the Tauron Deckie come at him. "Miri did it. Funny thing is, -I- didn't have anybody to ask for input, so we did the best we could. Besides, I said it was personal. It's also to remind me of my home, my family, those we've left behind. The Ys'rali. Ties that bind us." After a second he adds, "Besides, I didn't want to piss you off and rub it in your face." Ynyr looks back at his tray though he's not sure he's hungry anymore. His baritone is real low, "I don't know if I'm every going to get back there again." His Arpay eyes finally flick back to Yari. "Don't worry about us old dogs, Yari. Tell us how you are settling in and how we can help."

Water seems to be all Toby drinks these days, and now appears to be no exception as he takes another mouthful. It's a useful delaying tactic to get his thoughts in order. His reply starts simply, perhaps a just a touch gentler than the strict neutrality of his previous words, "yes you did." Then his gaze turns away, back to the table in front of him and down a fraction. The contents of his own tray hold no appeal any more and he pushes it away before making to stand. "No need to remind me of what was lost," he notes, although not in an accusational tone, "I'm just glad that some people got to enjoy it when they could." Sore point? More like a gaping oozing wound, but even he recognises that it's not Lleufer's fault he was barred from settling on Piraeus. Coming dangerously close to displaying actual feelings in front of a fraking marine he switches quickly to Yari as he reaches for the tray so he can clear it away. "Yeah, don't mind us, we're just relics of a past long gone. Obsolete, irrelevant. Well, I probably wouldn't call him," Ynyr, "to his face before you're done with your training mind. Easier that way."

Another glance to Yari. Lleu likewise has pushed his tray aside but he doesn't get up yet. He has his tea to finish if he still wants it. Less wary than Shackleton, the Marine Sergeant still watches Toby mostly. "Maybe, but you made it real clear in the past you weren't going to talk to me about my interest. So I dig up what I can on my own. If -you'd- ever change your mind about that, I'd listen. Otherwise, I give you your space." Ynyr really doesn't care. He finishes his tea and looks to whatever Yari might give by way of reply to his question.

"Relics," Yari echoes softly, one brow dipping low again as she inserts another bite of fish and practically swallows it whole. Maybe the Picon-born /is/ just a tad hungry. "Where is it that was home?" Yari postpones answering the unanswerable by tossing her own question out there. "Pardon my intrusion, but it still seems like a fresh wound in your hearts.

It's easy for Toby to answer Yari first, so he does so. "Tauron," although his accent is definitely now Minoan, "but we're discussing Piraeus. It's where we both call home, only he got to settle there, and I didn't." While there is bitterness there, it's not seemingly directed at Lleufer. "Personally, I'd rather take my chances against the APF and be there now, but I'm afraid you're stuck with me for another what.." he glances back to the marine, "eighteen months or so?" He hasn't forgotten the arrangement with the fleet, but now he's looking at Lleu he may as well respond to him as well. "I thought I'd made it clear in the past that I wasn't going to stand for you throwing wild slurs around and insulting what is holy. If you can agree to -that-, then we can talk anytime you like."

A slow not to Yari at what Toby answers first, "I was born on Aerilon, but I left there and the CMC became my family. But it wasn't until I set foot on Piraeus that … I really found my home." A glance back to Shackleton, "I never agreed with them not letting you live there. -If- you'd ever held anything back, the Ys'rali would know and they never touched you. -That- more than anything else is what finally made me believe you." Lleufer shifts his jaw as he thinks about the last parts Toby said. "Back then I didn't know if I was insulting. It's not like anyone's offered to teach me more than the little bits and pieces I've picked up. Besides, I recall I had good reason to be angry with you at the time. -Very- good reason." Maybe a little flicker of that anger comes back now, but it was long ago and he's not the same man he used to be anyway. Ynyr looks back to Yari, "I'd like to know more about your life there yourself, Yari."

Piraeus. Yari nods to herself, ignoring the heat rising from under her collar to colour her cheeks. She doesn't dare seek eye contact from the touchy Tauron. While his voice might not be raised, the edge is noted, and far as she can tell, the safest place for her to be is /not/ between duelling males. Of any species. *Chew*chew*chew* The gunny, on the other hand, seems maybe less apt to gnaw on her skull. Maybe. She offers a little shrug of response and washes the fish down with a sip of tea.

"We moved there a little time after my father died, I think. Stayed with Gram and Grandad in their cottage. It was a small farm, but pretty. Plentiful." She sounds like she's rehearsing a memorized line in a storybook, rather than recounting real life. "Then it wasn't. I was able to still go to school, though, the first few years. I remember the day they sent us home - us girls. Geometry exam. I'd studied all week." A ghost of a smile passes over the lip of her teacup. "But the teacher was late. When he did come in, it was to tell the girls to please collect our things, and leave. Sent us home." Now who sounds bitter? "Gram took me to the market then, to keep me distracted, but the vendor wouldn't take her money. Said we needed special vouchers now, stamped by our pater. Grandad said he was surprised it took them so long to devolve so lowly, but it'd finally happened, so…life was very different. 'School' became a joke. Jus' grooming us for something worse, is all." *Sip*

"Why? Was I being too obviously Tauran or something?" Toby retorts to Lleu, it's a harsher reply then he'd meant, but he can't exactly take it back now it's been said. "Frak if I remember every disagreement we ever had." There were lots of them after all. Still, in the interests of keeping his record clean he grips his tray and starts towards the bins, pausing only when Yari nears the end of her tale. "Pater?" he says low, not quite but almost a growl, "is that what they're calling themselves?"

Lleufer huffs a breath softly at what Toby says, "It is true that I don't now recall the details myself. But, you /do/ have my agreement not to knowingly insult what is holy. I didn't know what I believed in back then, was desperately grasping /for/ something to believe in. Now I know I believe, even if I'm still seeking to understand more." Nope, he's not going to get riled. Ynyr refuses to react to Shackleton's tone. He listens to Yari and frowns, "Why send home only the girls?" Lleu picks up on the Pater part that the Tauron asks after and he waits to have that clarification.

"Men who hold guardianship over any property, the residing women included. Pater." Yari recites as from a frakking dictionary, not bothering to look up from her next, robotic bite. "Grandad ceased to become ours when the officer pulled the trigger 'gainst his skull and ordered me lashed to the back of one of their horses, like some sack of potatoes. They would have requisitioned the entire farm, left Gram and Jorah homeless, but instead accepted me in exchange for the paltry twenty percent they permitted them to keep. Dr Baltus was in need of a new wife, s'what they said. And he was." *Chew* "Girls aren't likely to fight a system they cannot understand, I suppose was the reasoning behind our educational eviction. All we need concern ourselves with is producing more." Her cheeks pinch inward a bit, left heel drumming out a muffled beat on the floor under her heel. "It's just the way it was, and I gave him three. Would have been four, if the shadows hadn't come into the house that night and…" one hand uplifts to wipe away the chilling memory of something wet and tacky from her forehead. "I thought he had retired to his office, so snuck into the kitchen for a glass of water. That's where they shot him." It's not a particularly mournful tone that she holds for her deceased spouse. "Right there, then put it to my head." The last bite of fish disappears down the hatch - all skin. "I don't know what stopped her there, but I don't care. S'might still be four, I guess, should know by next week. I only wish Visilis hadn't seen what was left of it all, when they made us leave."
She's not eating anymore. The greens and cheese get left to grow cold together, as does the tea. "So that's it, then." Not precisely, but it's a rough enough synopsis of it all and the legs of her chair are scraping back over the floor.

Toby might have been mildly annoyed, maybe even irked briefly during his conversation with Ynyr, but Yari's definition of a Pater has him nigh on livid. If he hadn’t just stepped away from the bulkhead behind him he’d be punching it really rather hard about now, but as it is his grip just tightens on his tray, until the knuckles go a ghostly white. "That is not what a Pater is, that is not what it means to be one," he almost growls. Clearly the word has a deep meaning for him, although he doesn't seem in quite the right mood to share it right now as he turns back to look at Lleufer, "every last one of them Ynyr. We're going to track down every last one of them, and kill them. I'll go find Flynn now, see if we can get this bullshit medical crap out of the way as quickly as possible and get on with it."

Lleufer also looks rather livid himself suddenly, staring at Yari. His mouth is open slightly for a long moment before he remembers to close it, "Sons of bitches." If he's keyed into the title of 'Pater' having any special meaning, it's far less obvious. But he does share a glance with Toby. The Gunnery Sergeant says low to Yari, "You have young children, but you volunteered to stay and train to be a Corpsman, knowing we'll have to put the kids down somewhere else to try and keep them safe. You are all right with that?" As Master-at-Arms he's already seen her personnel file. That's his job to screen for Security risks. Ynyr gets up, picking up his tray and glass as well, "One step at a time. I'm afraid it's not BS medical crap, Shackleton. If you take a seat on a mission that another Marine could have been assigned, it's important you can do what we need you to do. People's lives will depend on it."

Yari flinches, a barely perceivable twitch, but it's there, and Toby is being watched warily from the corner of her turned vision. Her notched ear speaks for itself and whatever else marks up under the layers likely spoke earlier in the gym. "He loved his children, at least," she offers in the late Dr Titos Baltus' defence with a tremored tone. "Best he could. Grandad once said that even a king among men is but a slave, to the Skath. So I'd tell myself that Titos couldn't help the way he was. It's what he had to do to survive. That if I'd been born a man, instead of woman, would I not have faced the same choices?" Her brains are of course still inside /her/ skull, so it matters not, in the end. To Lleu's question: "No. Not wholly. Thank you, for the company," she tags hushedly on the end and dips her head into the slacker's version of a curtsy before picking up her tray and making a beeline for the racks while eyes are still dry and congenial smile painted on.

There's one simple way in which Toby is judging the lives of the inhabitants of P over the past two decades, but somehow even he is not brazened enough to yell 'did he cheer when they hanged Kelsey?' across the Mess. Instead, he judges based on the actions of the Ghosts, and condemns Yari's late husband based on their actions. "You know what the frak I meant," he mutters back to Lleufer and then he too is off to ditch his tray, and find somewhere to vent his newly acquired anger.

Lleufer is left standing there alone but he draws a slow breath as the other two depart. He watches Yari depart, then watches Shackleton's back. Well, it's time he turned in his tray and went to find his rack himself.

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