PWD #35: Zombie Ghost Ship
Zombie Ghost Ship
Summary: Peeps from Orion meet by chance at the Rec Room. They talk about recent unfolded events.
Date: 01/Dec/2012 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Reese Recon
Cassandra Duke Lennox Petra 
Rec Room
With several smaller rec rooms spread throughout the ship, this one is the largest by far and is the primary recretion 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 even 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.
December 01, 2004 (PWD #35)

Stretched out on one of the many, many couches is a petite blonde raptor driver commonly known as Ens. Lennox. Well, commonly by the handful of people she's actually introduced herself to, on the couple of days she's been aboard. Anyway, she's stretched out on the couch, face up, with a cigarillo in her mouth, and a pile of magazines on her belly, ashtray perched precariously atop the slippery paper. She's reading yet another magazine, something about Caprican Life, with the crinkly paper rolled over in one hand. Little puffs of spicy scented smoke waft up and are sucked into a conveniently placed vent to be recycled and filtered somewhere into something more breathable. That's the theory anyway.

It seems there's a lot of smoking going on in the room. With people coming back to Orion after that recall from the CO, it is no wonder that some folks are wandering inside the Rec Room, where most of the gossip can /possibly/ be found. Then again, it's not all about gossip, is it? Richard Duke is also here, and he is currently slumping on a chair not far away from where Lennox is. He has a cigar in his mouth and idle puffs of smoke are spotted from time to time. He is also wearing sunglasses, aviator style on this opportunity. He is wearing his off-dutty greens and one of his feet is rested on the arm of a nearby couch, Lennox's couch.

Cassandra slips into the room, the Doctor still in uniform despite being off her shift. Ahh, the joys of being recalled back onto the ship. Back to wearing the uniform every day. She looks around the place for a moment, before she heads towards a chair close to Lennox and Duke, even if the Doc is quite for now. She yawns lightly, before checking her watch, trying to see if she has more than eight hours til she is on duty again.

Petra emerges a few minutes behind Cassandra, taking a deep, heavy breath and letting it go as he slows down to take a look around. Spying the small group gravitating towards the corner, he takes a small side trip to acquire, what is that, coffee? before heading their way. He's already reaching for a chair before glancing at all three and murmuring, "Anyone mind one more? I just need to sit down for a bit."

There's a crinkle of shiny magazine pages as Lola Lennox tips her magazine out of the way to see who's asking after joining them. Of course, she's already saying, "There's a seat, you're welcome to it." About the same time as she wags the magazine toward the empty chair Petra's already about to claim, she happens to take note of the blue uniform, and it's a quick flick from knee level to the pins, because that's where the Ensign's eyes immediately go. The ash tray is the first thing to go when her body folds up off of the couch. An avalanche of magazines goes next, sweeping to the floor to spill in a crinkly fan of celebrity mage, how to seduce this or that, and at least two perfume inserts. Her boot hits one as she goes to stand, and her whole leg shoots out from under her, depositing her butt first onto the edge of the couch, where she bounced then sits frozen. "Sir." A plug of ash jolts free of her smoke and settles like grey snow across her off duties. At least the cherry didn't go down her top, right?

Duke looks at Cassandra as she walks in and just offers a nod to the woman before taking his cigar with two fingers, clearing his throat and back to his mouth. When Petra walks in and asks, the Captain just nods his head towards an empty chair and offers "By all means, it's been a frakking long day…" And he is about to say something else when Lennox goes to excited puppy mode. His attention moves towards her and he looks at the whole display without saying a single word. "Easy there, Convict" calls out the Captain with a half amused smile. But, since the group became larger now, he shifts a little bit in his sit and gets more comfortable. "So how is everyone doing in this fine, fine day?" asks the man now, denoting a tiny hint of sarcasm.

The explosion of activity from Lennox is enough to make Petra freeze with one hand on the aforementioned chair, mug of coffee paused halfway to his mouth, and linger there for a moment while the cascade of magazines flutter to the deck and come to rest. Only then does he actually pull the chair over and set his mug down on it, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth as he kneels down to grab at some of the scattered reading material, "Relax - Convict, is it? Don't think I've met you yet. S'not an inspection. Just here to get some lungfuls of smoke before I gotta go back. Its been an…interesting day." With that said, he offers her the magazines he's picked up, reaching back with his other hand for the mug he had set down.

Lola lifts her foot off of a magazine, lest it take her out again, and instead bends at the waist to scramble up the empty ashtray first. "Yep," this is to Duke as he talks her down a little bit, smoke bobbing at the corner of her mouth. She doesn't drop it. She snatches up some magazines, and deposits everything onto the couch cushion beside her. "Right, sir. Sorry, sir." This is said as she takes those magazines picked up by the Major and adds them to the pile that's only in slight disarray. She glances up from under a fall of unruly bangs and nods to Petra. "Ensign Lola Lennox," she agrees. The tone is agreeable, anyway, so Convict must also be correct. "Boarded just a couple days ago."

Well, Duke has been here since the beginning and like many others, not too happy about the fact that they are leaving. "You could say that." says the man, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against his chair. He nods at Petra and then takes the cigar from his lips, resting it on the close-by ashtray. He takes his glasses of and rubs his fingers over his closed eyes, as if try to get a little more alert. "So what is the next step, Major" asks Duke after Lennox introduces herself. But right after asking this, he stands up and marches towards the coffee pot, getting some for himself.

Petra sinks into the chair a little heavily, taking a drink from his mug as he watches Lennox for a moment longer, then shifts his attention to Duke. Whatever answer he was going to give the Captain is paused as Duke rises to get him some coffee, and instead, Petra's first comment is directed to Lennox, "You got here just in time then. Perhaps we'll be seeing you tomorrow, as I suspect I'm going to get instructed to go back over, just in case the Marines are successful. We didn't manage to learn a whole lot today other than a collective 'what the frakking hell?'"

Lennox glances over to the Captain, then her gaze flicks back to the Major. She watches each of them as they speak in turn, exhales a little puff of smoke at the 'frakking hell' comment, and glances down. Right, ash. She swipes a hand over herself to dust off the remains of her earlier kerfluffle. Crinkle. The magazines are shortly tidied into a perfect little stack.

The Viper pilot walks back, now holding a cup of coffee in his hand, taking a sip from it. "I assume Colonial Navy HQ is already aware of this? Whatever that was behind the beyond the armistice line, it calls for an alert on all Colonies" says Richard Duke as he takes a seat again. "Furthermore, next time you guys go out there, you might want to take a few Viper escorts with you." He takes yet another sip and clears his throat afterwards, shifting against the metal to make himself comfortable "We are not planning on crossing the armistice line, right?" Because that would…well.

Petra shakes his head slowly at Duke as the Captain returns with his coffee, "As far as I know, noone has any plans to cross the Line. We came out here hunting the Reese, and we know where it is now. Admiral hasn't issued the orders yet, but the next logical step is to send the Marines back to board her and see what in hell's name happened - he might be waiting on what HQ has to say first. Sandwich said it looked like they just shut their DRADIS off and let it go. And then…whoever that was on the Observation Deck…" He trails off for a moment, frowning as he takes another drink of his coffee.

Lola's attention definitely shifts to Duke as he mentions the armistice line. She sits slowly back in the couch and drags the ashtray onto her lap. She breathes out a little cloud of smoke, then slips the leaf-wrapped cig from her lips to set it into the ashtray, tamping it out lightly as one would a cigarette. She leaves the tapered end to rest against the glass edge, and sets the whole thing aside. It's her turn to rise and take a few steps toward the coffee pot. "Warm up?" This to Petra, as Duke's just gotten his own. She waits to see if the Maj will relinquish his mug or pass on the offer.

"Because it would be a really frakking bad idea" says Duke about crossing the armistice line. Then again, since this is not the plan, he nods his head. "Well, given what has been reported, I don't think Marines will find a very pretty image. Perhaps if someone is alive in that ship…" Which could be called 'doubtful' "…they can throw some light into things" When Lennox speaks, he moves his gaze towards her and then at Petra's cup. Oh, the coffee, right. The man takes his cigar again, puffing some heavy smoke right after.

Petra glances up at Lola when she rises and offers a refill, quickly draining a good portion of his mug before surrendering it to her, "Please, and thank you." With both hands free, he rubs his face with his hands, before leaning forward, elbows to knees, and just nods, "Yeah. I just don't get what could have happened. No distress beacon. Flight deck looked like it was ready for an inspection. No damage. The drives were on and idling. Its like they all just…vanished. A Flak Frigate has a crew of at least a few hundred. The Marines are either going to walk into the aftermath of a warzone, or they're going to be IN one." He pauses, "I dont know. Or maybe everyone's hiding in the mess having a four day ice cream social…"

The Ensign nods, takes the mug, fingers steepled over the rim, and heads over to do battle with the coffee pot. She glances over as they discuss the ship. Its lack of distress beacon. Ghost ship. "I think I saw that movie once. It was a quarantine in space with flesh eating, mindless zombie creatures secured in the aft cargo hold. Everything was ok until a pair of nameless grunts in greens jumped duty went looking for a place to make out." She pours her mug and refills Petra's after taking a sniff of his to suss out what might have been added, if anything, to doctor up the Rec pot's characteristically dark brew. "I don't know about you, but if I heard the words quarantine, I'd put on some kind of hazard suit, not find a dark corner to take off my pants." She shakes some packets of creamer and sweetener into her own cup.

Duke finishes his cup of coffee and stands up to fish for another one. He listens to what Lennox is saying and just shakes his head "Well, might be a little different than that, Convict" And now, he is pouring himself another cup of coffee while holding the cigar between his lips. He throws in some natural sugar and turns around, walking back to his chair "Or they'll find themselves into something totally different…which could be worse, a lot worse." He covers his mouth and coughs "Not saying that's the case of course but, precautions should be taken…which I'm sure that is what's happening"

Petra appears to be crazy (or desperate) enough to be drinking the coffee straight, black, and unsweetened. The movie comment softens his expression, leaning back in his chair to chuckle low under his breath, "Good rule of thumb. Quarantine crisis, don't take your pants off. Everyone knows its the folks having sex that get killed first in the horror movie." Another deep breath is taken and slowly released before he nods at Duke's comment, "That's very possible, especially if you consider the DRADIS contact we had. I suppose we're going to find out later today, and yes, I would expect THIS time, we aren't going without Vipers."

Lola seems to really take a beat to think about what she just said, with the flesh eaters and dying and all. And then her mind flits back to a conversation she had the other day regarding the secrecy of the mission over some tooth brushing in the Head. Her brow creases as little frown lines appear between her eyebrows, but she manages to pick up both mugs without sloshing any coffee. "Day I don't have to strap on a rifle and dig into the bowels of a ghost ship is a win kind of day for me," murmurs the young pilot, though this could also be to Duke as he's standing just next to her. She delivers the Major's coffee with a light thunk of mug to table surface, without comment on his bravery for sucking down that swill unaltered, and sips from her own sweet concoction. Whew. That could burn a hole in your stomach even with some sugar added.

"So it's wait and see, apparently." offers Duke, leaving the cigar back in the ashtray. "The boarding party will be mainly Marines, Convict. I doubt you'll have to strap any rifle and march inside, so consider it a win win scenario. Unless of course, enemy contact is coming directly at your ship" adds the man, smiling just a little by the use of scare tactics. Hey, if she started talking about zombies, might as well get her on edge right? Moar coffee, moar! Yes, he works on his second cup now, apparently pretty much used to the Navy coffee. It's not that bad, really.

Petra murmurs a soft 'thank you' when his mug is returned to the table, recapturing it with both hand, warming them on it for a moment before taking a small sip to test the scald level. He nods once at Duke's comment, "Wait and see what explodes, I suppose. If the Reese is empty or a morgue, then we'll take a look at their computers and maybe get a salvage team on board that can fly it back to Anchorage. As for the rest…" He shrugs and shakes his head. Not even going to venture a guess at what else might happen at that point.

"Pleasure," is said to Petra, but then Lola pauses with the coffee mug held just below her lips and a second sip. The steam rises and curls languidly across the planes of her face, and she directs that amber eyed gaze directly to Duke. She looks at him for a long moment before her gaze ticks to the side, like maybe she's thinking about her little sidearm versus ravening hordes rushing an unsecured raptor hatch. Slurp. She takes a little sip. Show no fear, Ensign. Show no fear. "I like taking things apart." The idea of salvage shines a little sunshine on those quiet thoughts. Let's just ignore the fact that salvage would mean the entire crew is indeed missing, all vanished and mysterious. Treat it like scrap—that's the ticket!

"I wonder if the Vipers are in good shape" asks Duke, not directed to anyone in particular, perhaps just thinking outloud. "Ghost Ship" says the man now, also to himself, half shuddering at the thought. He finishes his second cup of coffee, standing up once again for a refill. He does love his coffee it seems. Or maybe it /is/ fuel. "If that's the case, you'll need a bigger team…I mean, aside from Marines" says Duke, this to Petra on the topic of flying the thing back to Anchorage.

Petra takes a longer drink from his mug, glancing up at one of the screens others are watching across the room. A considering look flashes across his features, and then finally, he leans forward and slowly rises to his feet, "Well. Its been long enough. I'm heading back upstairs to go over the recording one more time before Tac throws me outta CIC. M'sure I'll at least hear both of you over the radio tomorrow, if I don't see your faces in person - I'd imagine the old man is going to want everyone on the line for this, like you say, Captain. Just get yerselves back in one piece, mmm?"

"Wilco," Lola replies into her coffee. She finally re-takes her seat, moving the magazines to the table where she first took them. She settles down, legs crossed, both hands wrapped around her coffee mug. She straightens and raises her mug with both hands in an approximation of a salute to the Major in acknowledgment of his words. "Thank you, sir."

Duke just lifts his mug as a way to salute the departing Officer. He doesn't make any comments on everyone getting back in one piece, nor he makes any comments at all for a few seconds. Finally, he looks at Lennox for a moment and asks "Frakking zombies?" He half chuckles at this and then rummages for something to eat "I swear I saw a pack of cookies earlier today"

Petra has left.

Lola lifts her shoulders in a light little shrug. "I mean, it was the first thing I thought of." Her interest piques at the mention of cookies, and she watches where the Captain searches with interest. "They have cookies in here?" She only speaks up once the Major is through the hatch, of course. "What kind of cookies?"

"Chocolate chip" says the man, still rummaging "Aha." Now, he finds his target, pulling a box of cookies from one of the drawers "They brought a few boxes…" explains Duke, opening the box of cookies, getting one for himself and then setting the small package on the table. He sits back on his chair, nibbling on a cookie before he takes more of his coffee. "So how are you finding your new Squadron?" finally asks Duke, trying to make some conversation.

"I don't know most of them very well, because we haven't had a chance, but they seem like good people." Lola's answer is a pretty safe one. She goes on to add, "Captain St. Clair is good people for sure." Though she eyes the packet of cookies, she does not rise to take one. "Lucky Strikes, too. One of their Ensigns helped me find the berths the other day. I mean, this is my first post, sir." FNG, represent.

Duke notices that she eyes the cookies "You know, you can take one if you want, Convict." says the man, still working on his own. Small package, big cookies. "We all had a first post, Convict, don't worry about that." adds the man in hopes that perhaps this can make her feel a little more at ease. "Also, you don't need to Sir me, not while Off-Duty at least…I'm Bumper. Viper Pilot with the Lucky Strikes"

Lola thinks on that for a few seconds, but nods finally. "Bumper." So introduced and encouraged, she rises to move over to the table, and perches on the edge of a seat there. She eyes the cookie packet for a moment, then reaches over, neatly manicured fingernails leading, and claims a cookie for her own. "I'll feel better about everything when I settle into the duty roster, and have a few flights here. It's easier out there, with one hand on the throttle."

"You'll get there, soon enough" informs Duke, not really sure on how much she knows about the 'mission' but not one to reveal secrets that are not for him to reveal. "With everything that's going on right now, I am pretty sure things are going to start moving pretty fast. And if you were talking with one of your superiors already, it is possible that you'll land in the roster in no time. After all, you /are/ a Raptor Pilot right?" Because she did mention the throttle.

Lola finishes off her coffee with a last sip. She downs the mug before it manages to cool to room temperature, and does it without burning herself. "Last time I checked," she replies, like those things have a habit of changing when you're not looking. She doesn't eat the cookie, though she does take a long inhale of its delicious aroma. Preservatives or not, it's a chocolate chip cookie, and that's aces in her book. "Thanks for breakfast, s… Bumper."

Duke still works on his third cup of coffee, slowly, enjoying it. When she thanks him for the breakfast, he just nods his head and says "Welcome" No smelling cookies for him, no sir…that cookie is GONE. He stands up now, taking the package, closing it and moving it back into the drawers, so others can take cookies as well..after all…gotta share. "Alright Convict, enough chit-chat…go check the Rosters and see if there are any changes and then, well…maybe simulator sessions? The get the edge off"

"That's a fine idea, Bumper." That time, Lola catches the 'sir' before it leaves her mouth. She's learning. "I got a couple hours in me yet before I rack out for a nap. Energy to burn." She salutes him with the cookie. "Gonna go squirrel this away for after the shower." She's suddenly a lot more talkative. Could be those brassy major pins gave her a little scare earlier. "See you soon?" And then she's off for the hatch, to parts unknown, and probably looking around every darn corner for any signs of zombie infection.

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