MD #159: You Can Have My Stash
MD #159: You Can Have My Stash
Summary: Two Deckies talk before the Aerlion Drop
Date: Thu 14/Sep/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs:
Becker Toby 
Hangar Bay - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Each hangar deck is divided into five one-hundred yard sections, each divided from the others by massive blast doors that close vertically from the floor and overhead. Each hangar section houses all of the Vipers, Raptors, and Predators that the wing operates as well as the vital work areas to support and maintain these fighting platforms. Each bay is large enough to accommodate one of these frames and still get heavy work done, though the fore- and aft-most sections are dedicated to overhauls and major work to be done. The bays along the center section are located across from launch tubes and elevators in order to provide scramble and Alert-Five capabilities. The second-to-aft bay provides major elevator and transport access to the starboard bay as well as the major manufacturing facility. Above each bay and within are a trio of small red firefighting balls that will explode on too much heat being exposed. Due to the nature of the work, the hangar decks are major hubs of activity at all hours of the day and all but four hours overnight.
Sun 01/Apr/2049 (IC Date)

The hangar is a flurry of activity as the deck crew move heaven and earth to get ships and equipment — and themselves — ready for the big op. Most of the people who are going to jump from frakking space onto the planet are resting. Not Polly Becker. There's shit she needs to do. Like, for example, cram herself way into a Raptor to extract space rocks and other debris that have managed to get themselves in there. She's one of the only ones small enough to get in there, and she takes that seriously. Sure, she normally works on avionics, but she also knows her job is to get junk out of inconvenient places. There's a clank and a grumble.

Toby is already kitted up with most of the gear he needs for the mission, not the parachute yet, nor a few other finishing touches, but as much as he can be at this stage. There is hoever some paperwork he's been avoiding, but that really does need doing before he goes so he finds an out of the way raptor and settles down on the hatch, so his feet are resting on the wing. Having grabbed a clipboard from the deck office he has two pieces of paper and a pen, and is just about to start when he hears the grumble and asks, loudly, "you okay?"

"This frakking rock is jammed in the intake and I can't" clank "get" clank "it" clank "out." BIG clank. A squeal of victory. Polly squirms out of wherever she was squirmed into and emerges, triumphant, with a pitted, apricot-sized space rock. "Another one for the pile," she says proudly.

Toby 'ahs' in understanding, then gets back to his writing. Or tries to, the clanking is surprisingly distracting. He does manage a few words, but the glances up again as the rock is presented. "You should sell those to the civillians on the others ships. Bet they'd love real space rocks." Not that they have much to trade for mind, but you never know. "Or maybe if we build up a big enough pile we can put them in a bag and drop them on the Skath's heads"

"I've got a big collection going in the back of the aft utility closet. Got a storage bin half full of them. That's not a bad idea." Polly pockets the rock in her jumpsuit and closes whatever panel she crawled out of. She climbs up onto the Raptor, leaning back against the solid frame. "Have you ever jumped out of a plane before?"

Toby looks fairly solumn at the moment, but gives Becker a nod at the mention of her storage bin. "Better get on it then, if the Chief finds out there's bins not being used for their proper purpose she won't be happy." Then, since this appears to have developed into a conversation, he puts the pen down for now and considers which answer to the. The one that is technically correct, or the one that he reckons is what Becker was actually asking. In the end he opts for answer number one, it's likely to be the most reassuing to the younger folks heading out. "Hundreds of times, nothing to it."

"I had, like, a simulation course in training, but that's it. Am I the only avionics tech going on this adventure?" Polly asks, pulling one grease-streaked knee to her chest. She knows she's probably being a pest. She still asks.

"Don't expect it to be anything like the simulations," Toby offers, helpfully, "it isn't. Just listen to what the person in charge says, and do that." Rich words coming from him perhaps, but there you have it. "If you need a last minute run though then go find one of the marines, they'll be able to take you though it step by step." As for who's going and who isn't, he can only shrug, "you've likely seen more of the lists than me PO, you tell me."

"Okay, I know I am, but I maybe was hoping for…" Polly doesn't know what she was hoping for. She shakes her head. "Nerves. I'll be good." She leans her head back against the hatch, looking up at the vaulted ceiling of the hangar. "Am I interrupting important paperwork?"

"Important yes," Toby replies without subtulty, "but not mission critical. Stuff that would a be a pain in the arse for orhers to sort if I end up smeared all over the Aerlion countryside without having written it down." He doesn't seem to want to get more specific than that, buit if she glances over she'll be able to see that the one he has already started look very much like an 'if I kark it' letter.

"Should I write one of those?" Polly asks, seriously. "I mean, Michael is probably the only one who'd miss me, but…" She'd checked. There's no word of her family back on Caprica. "You can have my stash."

Toby looks at Becker for a moment then shrugs, "up to you. Do you have a will already on file, and do you have any changes to make to it? If no, or yes and yes, then write something now, if yes, or yes and no, then do whatever you think is best." He riases an eyebrow faitnly at the comment about her rocks, then shakes his head slightly, "give it to the kids, they'll appreciate it more."

"I didn't mean my rocks, dude," Polly grins, looking over at the big Tauran. "I mean my booze and weed. That stuff doesn't go in the will. I have to have /some/ dignity."

"Thanks," Toby replies, looking almost amused at the misunderstanding, "but I don't drink, and I don't smoke." And having fun is right out too. "Try Yates, he'd be pleased you remembered him I reckon." Then, after a pause, "is he on the jump list? Or the Chief?" He's fairly sure Niamh isn't, but he has no idea on Terrence. "Also, do you have a grease pencil on you? There's a thing I need to do before we jump, but I couldn't find any in the office when I went to look."

"You don't?" Polly looks surprised. "Why?" She fishes a grease pencil out of a jumpsuit pocket, then another, then another. "I think I've been hoarding them accidentally," she says, passing it over to him. "Yeah, Yates is coming. Not sure about the Chief. There was some… you know. Wibbling."

I'd b e surprised if Command let the Chief jump," Toby notes, not in any way being an expert on what Command things, "she's too valuable here." Eyeing the stream of pencils he rakes two and pockets one, before hauling hismelf to his feet and leaning round to the fuselage between the hatch and the cockpit canopy. Once there he draws a circle about three inches in diametre, and adds a dot to the middle. "Do me a favour PO, any ship thats lauching that doesn't have that on, add it. It's kind of like a good luck thing." Kind of. As for why he doesn't dring, well, he frowns a little at trying to think how to answer before just deciding to be straight up honest, "because when I drink I punch people more."

Becker nods. "Will do." She doesn't question it. Figures it's a Tauran superstition. "Yeah. Maybe punching people less would be… good." She was in the gym the other day. She doesn't comment more. She gets up. "I should probably, you know, suit up. I'll see you on the other side of the war." The slight blonde tech gives him a small smile and slides off of the ship. "And maybe write a letter. That'll be good."

"I'll do the raptors," Toby says, eyeing the birds waiting on the line, "you get the vipers and rhinos." It's a fiarly even split, give or take. "See you in Hypathia," he replies, clearly a reference to something, but not one he's sharing, and then he's sittingback down to continue with his letter, or try to, writers block is definitely a thing.

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