All the Queen's Horses
All the Queen's Horses
Summary: Legacy is sprung from Sickbay, but needs a little extra care.
Date: PHD024
Related Logs: Ambushed

Kharon - Storage

Roubani is sitting on a crate on the far end of the storage unit, wearing his blues with the jacket off and neatly folded beside him. Indulging in a private habit - no not THAT habit - smoke curls up from a cigarette in his left hand.

The door opens and a very, very out of uniform Thea slips in, head down. She's moving slowly, one hand curled over a large white bandage visible on her side. The bandage, sadly, is no longer white. Her head's down as she moves forward, pausing only to lock the door behind her. The sports bra and boxers cover plenty, so she's modest, and she managed to find a pair of sneakers, sans socks, somewhere. At her left temple is another bandage, though this one isn't showing signs of wound seepage. She moves further into the room, head down, though pauses after only a few feet, lifting her head to sniff the air. "Ri," she calls, looking around, eyes narrowed slightly.

Roubani's voice answers her, mildly. "No, sir."

Pause. Blink. "Poet," she says, moving around to where she can see him. Eyes go from the cigarette to the man then back again. Yes, she's surprised. "Well, hell. You wanting privacy?"

Roubani softly clears his throat, lowering the cigarette between his knees to ash it. "I'm not particular one way or the other, sir. But if you were looking for Captain Marek you might try berthings."

She shakes her head and moves toward a low crate, still cradling her side. "No, I smelled the smoke and thought he was in here," she says with a faint smile. "And no, I'm not looking for him. I just got sprung and wanted somewhere peaceful. This works. And no, before you ask, I'm not running you out. I just didn't want a crowd."

Roubani nods, glancing at the other crates around him. "Well…if you don't mind some splinters, sir, then you're welcome to have a seat. I suppose it isn't /the/ most private place on the ship, but it'll do."

"I've had a bullet in my ass, Poet, and part of my raptor in my side. Splinters will feel like bloody heaven at this point," she grouses with a little smile. "I'm fine with not hugely private. I just didn't want to be mobbed when I went back to bunks. How're you holding up? What did the doctors say?"

As usual, Roubani very softly clears his throat at the swearing. "They said no problem." He glances at the burning cherry on his cigarette and flicks ash off it again. "You? You'll pardon my being rude, I hope, but it looks as though you ought to have that dressing changed."

"I'll change it later," she says simply, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. "I wanted to make sure you were ok. You took some hits out there. They were fast. And focused."

Roubani chuckles softly. "You didn't know I was in here, sir." He picks up the pack next to his hip, gently shaking it. "Would you like one? I suppose I don't even know if you smoke."

A hand is held up and she smiles a little, though doesn't open her eyes. "I don't," she says quietly. "One vice I don't have. No, I didn't know you were here, but I'd planned to run you to ground, if I had to. Just glad I didn't have to hobble all over the ship."

"There's only so far one can go," Roubani replies, resting his elbows back on his knees. He takes a slow drag on the cigarette and exhales the smoke with equal slowness, letting it curl from his mouth. "I apologise I didn't make it down to see you last night. I'd meant to, believe me."

"I wouldn't have known you weren't there if you hadn't told me," she comments with a little smile. "Apparently I lost enough blood to have been mostly out of it. Got a few new stitches. The shrapnel missed most of the major parts. Just some muscle and rib damage. I fell asleep while Torch was there."

"Well," Roubani says, in his usual soft deadpan. "In that case I was there all night and by the way, you drool."

"And you snore," she comments quietly. "And you talk in your sleep." And gee, how would SHE know that?

"Untrue," Roubani replies. "I'm sure my bunkmate's pillow would have found a cozy home on my face by now." He lifts the cigarette for a new drag.

Thea's quiet for a time, then shakes her head. "Likely only when you're injured, then," she murmurs.

Roubani doesn't reply to that. He exhales smoke towards the wall. "Did you see Lieutenant Black before you left?"

"With or without breasts," she asks simply.

Roubani's cheeks only flush a little. "Without, sir."

Kai arrives from the Hallway - Deck 3, Midships.
Kai has arrived.

"He was getting sprung around the same time I was," she murmurs quietly. Hand lightly brushing over the bandage on her side. The Captain is showing SKIN! But injured skin really isn't good skin. Thea's seated on a crate, leaned back, eyes closed, head on the bulkhead, one hand on the bandage at her side. The bandage doesn't look so hot. Lots of seepage and dried blood. The one at her temple is clean. Roubani's on his own crate, smoking. "He looked better than I expected. I thanked him, told him he did damned good work out there. This was right after I had to tell a Marine that his CO is dead."

Roubani is not showing skin. His blues jacket is off but underneath he has on the standard military-issue shirt, buttoned securely. Smoking, as he tends to do in here, the pack laid by his hip. He softly clears his throat. "I'm sorry. That must have difficult for you, sir."

The hatch is slid open, with the usual cacophony of grinds and thumps that accompany such. Booted feet on deck plating, a flash of dogtags and fatigues. Someone's rummaging. Or pilfering, as the case may be.

"One of these days, Thumper," Thea murmurs. "I'm going to teach you a new phrase. Yes, it was difficult. But it had to be done. We're blessed there weren't more deaths. That one's hard enough." She's quiet for a moment, then says softly, simply, "Sholeh?"

Roubani's eyes come up from the cigarette, looking at Thea. Even and guarded. Then he glances towards the source of the noise, one brow arching slightly. "Gremlins."

The rummaging stops, and a sharply-profiled face slants toward the pair conversing atop crates. It seems to be the 'thumper' that drew his attention, in the way that innocuous motifs often do in a jumble of other, equally innocuous sentences. "Evening, Captain. Ensign. I feel like I should've brought a cooler of beer." To the party.

Nine arrives from the Hallway - Deck 3, Midships.
Nine has arrived.

"Evening, Captain," she calls without opening her eyes. Thea seems quite comfortable and utterly oblivious of looks. "I think there's a bottle of brandy in the back, third crate. There's a shelf created by the crate beneath it."

"Sir." Roubani pulls both feet up onto the crate, folding his long legs Indian-style. The shifting looks unusually awkward for him, subtly favouring his right shoulder. Thea's mention of alcohol keeps his eyes down on his burning cigarette.

"I'd love to indulge, but I actually.." There's a -thunk- as Kai tugs out a box of stationery from the stack. "..just came in here for some paper. And maybe a cigarette." He looks from Legacy, to Roubani. Just in case the Ensign is feeling charitable to the guy who decides his CAP rotations.

"Damn," Thea mutters quietly. "Well, I'm not about to get up for it. If you all want something, the bottle's there, and it's full. Yes, I hid it there. But I'm willing to share."

"You're a right mooch, sir." Roubani informs Kai, gravely. Nevertheless he picks up his pack and taps it against his knee until a filter slides out, and holds up the crinkly packet towards the other man. Looking back at Thea he says quietly, "CAP in under three hours, sir. I'm afraid I can't."

A faint clank-creak, clank-creak from overhead, toward one wall of the storage room, results in one of the panels in the overhead moving upward into the dark, and the dark snipe oozing out from the opening. Though it looks far too small to admit a human body through its squared orifice, she manages, somehow. Like a cat, in that squishy, uncontainable way, but faintly more unsettling. She comes to crouch lightly on the top of a stack of boxes, and she peers down into the storage unit, taking off the darkvision goggles which aid her so nicely through the ship's guts. "… Oh. Hi," she says.

Box of paper thusly collected, Kai skirts around a stack of boxes of toiletries, and reaches for the tapped-out cigarette held toward him. It's slid from the pack and tucked between his lips while he rummages for a lighter. And skims his eyes briefly over the slumped raptor Captain— before startling just a little when Nine appears through a grating in the wall. Plop. "You're lucky I'm not armed," is his response to the greeting, spoken around his cigarette.

Thea jerks up at hearing the clanking and creaking - the sounds of metal. Metal, something just dug out of her body. And as she jerks, she remembers, too late, the side the metal was dug from. Her hand goes more securely over the bloodied bandage and the curse words that slip quietly from her lips are enough to send Marines scurrying for cover. Oh, yes, she gets inventive - but it's short lived. "Petty Officer," she manages to choke out. "Next time, use the frakking door."

Roubani looks up towards the grate rather than offer Kai a lighter. Mooch revenge, passive-aggressive style. "Petty officer, evening." He glances at Thea again at the cussing, giving her seeping wound a rather uncomfortable look. "Perhaps I ought to…fetch a doctor, sir."

Nine stares at the viper captain. Then the raptor captain. Then the viper captain again. "Are you going to shoot me, sir?" she asks him flatly, something dark in her voice. "I was just… looking for…" she looks around, then takes up a small box of whatever. "Stuff." She puts the box back up in the crawlspace.

Kai's attention is dragged from Nine, back to Legacy when the cussing reaches his innocent ears. He doesn't look appaled, but then, he's had some time to get used to the woman. He thumps in a bit closer, once he's lit his cigarette, and squints at her side. Then back up at Nine. "No, I'm going to papercut you to death." With his box of paper, naturally. He stares at her for a few seconds more, then returns his attention to Legacy. "I think the Ensign's right. Shouldn't you be on bed rest, at the very least?"

It probably tells those who know her quite a bit when Thea doesn't argue immediately. "Just blood loss," she murmurs after a moment. "I moved too fast. Nothing popped." Her eyes remain closed as she leans back against the wall again. "Light duty for three days. Same as with the bullet. They wouldn't let me keep the shrapnel, though. Petty Officer, what can we help you find?" She's trying to be pleasant and polite.

Roubani's eyes flicker to Nine and then back to Legacy. Her face, rather than a bandage soaked in bodily fluids. He lets his feet down and stands stiffly, giving Kai a meaningful look - give a signal and he'll call the medics.

"I found it," Nine replies, not coming down from her perch near the ceiling, evidently. She looks down toward the Captain again. "You're going to be okay, right?"

Kai drags from his cigarette, and exhales away from the raptor Captain while keeping his eyes on her. "Thea, get your ass back to berthings, or I'll sic the Ensign on you." Which means, on the wireless. Which means, medical staff and paperwork. He's giving her a Stern Look.

One eye cracks open, then the other, and she just studies Kai for a long moment. "Fine. But the Ensign has to tuck me in," she tells him, chin coming up ever so slightly. "And yes, Petty Officer. I'm going to be fine. It was just a piece of shrapnel."

Roubani clears his throat softly. "I'll walk you up, Captain," he tells Thea, with a nod. There's a flicker of dark eyes to Kai that's grateful, and he picks up his blues jacket from where it's neatly folded, draping it formally over his arm.

Nine looks down at Captain Legacy with a mournful expression, "Do you want Crucible to go with you and keep you company?" she asks quietly from her perch.

"I don't frankly give a shit whether it's the tooth fairy that tucks you in," Kai answers, eye contact broken as he endeavours to help her up from the crate. Mindful of her injured side, of course; he's obviously got practice with this. Roubani's glance is met briefly, and the gratefulness is reciprocated.

She doesn't fight either of them. Thea allows Kai to help her up, managing to stay on her feet by sheer dogged stubbornness. "Thank you, Ensign," she says quietly, formally. "Captain." Her expression softens, though, when she looks to Nine. A smile, no matter how small, appears. "Thank you, Petty Officer," she says quietly. "I think, though, he'd best stay with you tonight. I'd be horrible company for him."

Roubani stands there like a scarecrow with a stick up its ass while Kai helps Legacy up, hands covered by his jacket. "I will -" he remarks gravely to Kai's comment, "- get my sparkly wings out if that will help." Waiting for Legacy, he watches to be sure she looks like she can walk, letting her be first to move anywhere.

Nine opens her mouth to reply, but then Roubani is going on about putting on sparkly wings and she goes all giddy inwardly at the thought, too giddy to say much else for a moment. Finally, she looks back to the Black Cat, "He's a good listener, if you need somebody to vent to. I'll tell him you're not feeling well and ask him if he wants to stop by," she concludes, leaving the final decision up to him.

Kai hesitates a moment, then releases Thea's arm once he's sure she's on her feet. There's a muffled *thump* as he claims the crate she was seated on, pre-warmed to boot. Smoke pours from his nose and parted lips, on the tail end of an amused snort when Roubani mentions sparkly wings. As to 'Crucible', he ventures not a word, as he's clearly not in the know.

Thea simply turns toward the door, shuffling along, shoulders oddly down.

Roubani looks at Nine before he goes, giving her a faint smile. It lingers a bit on his face as he nods a farewell to Kai. "Sir." Then he turns to walk with Legacy, as slowly as she needs. Years of having long legs means you learn to slow down when you have to.

You head through the exit labeled <H> Hallway.
You are entering Hallway - Deck 3, Midships.

Kharon - Black Squadron Berthing

Thea's moving slowly and not even pretending she's fine anymore. Oh, she's not falling over, but it's clear she's hurting. As they enter the berthings, she glances over her shoulder at Roubani, looking oddly vulnerable. "You don't have to tuck me in, Roubani," she says softly. "You've seen me home safe. Thank you."

"I wouldn't presume you needed 'tucking in', sir," Roubani says, his tone quite keen on preserving Thea's dignity. His hands stay as they are under his folded jacket. "I'll get you some water to keep close by."

Legacy shakes her head slightly. "No, thank you. I have some," she says quietly. "Actually, if you could get some gauze out of my locker, I'll change this before bed."

"Of course." Roubani turns around and sets the jacket on a chair, heading for the Raptor crews' locker rows. He follows the alphabetical tape strips to 'L' and unhitches the latch, assuming it's not locked. "Where is it, sir? The top shelf here?"

Nope, not locked. "Bottom shelf," she says, moving to her bunk, carefully removing the tape. No, she doesn't even wince. There's a small medical kit on her bottom shelf, complete with tape and peroxide. Her locker is an interesting melange. On one hand, it's almost obsessively neat and tidy. Everything is in its exact place. There's a picture on the back wall, half hidden by the contents of the locker, but once the medical kit is moved, it's visible. It's a much younger Kai and Thea, arms around each other as they mug for the camera, in their flight suits. Next to it is a picture of Thea and her family - five people all dressed alike in green and red sweaters, all grinning as if they -know- it's a joke.

Roubani kneels carefully, keeping his back straight. He picks up the medical and balances it on his knee, popping it and getting out a thick roll of gauze. Then he gets back to his feet, replacing the kit exactly where he found it. Door latched, he heads back for Legacy's bunk. "I should think they would take better followup care of someone with such a serious injury," he says, some distaste for medical evident in his voice.

"I walked out," she says quietly, bending her head so that she can see where to remove the tape. "The discharge papers were at my bedside as were the instructions. Sickbay is full, Roubani, with people much more injured." The gauze is pulled away carefully, revealing a line of about twenty neat stitches, curving over her ribs. It looks like the shrapnel slid between two of them, or near enough. She's got a variety of other cuts and scratches, but none of them requiring stitches. "They did what they could. It's not their fault I was done waiting on a doctor. Three days light duty, then I'll be back on the line. Apparently I bled more than expected. Two ribs are nicked."

"It is their fault," Roubani replies, sounding even more upset with said department after she explains. "What kind of caregivers allow a Captain to end up slumped and barely moving, bleeding through her dressings? It's deplorable. I'll put in a word in the morning." Lines in his forehead show as he frowns, unravelling some of the gauze.

"I'm not a child, Roubani," she says softly. "They're dealing with a mass casualty incident. End of conversation. I was startled. I jumped. It hurt. They told me it might bleed for a day or two while the healing started." Rather than a sharp tone to her voice, she simply sounds a little tired. "When you get a moment, could you please hand me the peroxide?" The old gauze is carefully folded into a neat, very precise square.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's not the end of it." Roubani turns around and fetches said bottle, opening the cap before he hands it to her. "It has nothing to do with your maturity level, and I think you know that just fine. I will take it up with them."

Thea takes the bottle, very careful not to touch him as she does so. The old gauze square is put aside and she reaches for another piece, dampening it with the chemical solution. She says nothing as she carefully works around the injury, body twisted at an odd angle to reach. The stitches aren't wet, but she methodically takes care of everything around it. "Thank you," she murmurs after a moment, as if she just remembered he'd handed her something.

Roubani picks up the gauze once she's got the bottle in hand, unrolling the rest of what she needs. From his expression it's good she didn't push it further or they might have ended with an Ensign in the brig for disobeying an officer. "Does it need tape or something?"

"I'll need tape," she affirms. "Four pieces to make sure it stays. It should be fine under my uniform in the morning." Nope, Thea's not pushing anything which, given the fact she's a flame redhead, might be odd. Might not.

"Is it in the kit?" Roubani's question becomes moot immediately as he's already turning around to paw through the thing. Finding said tape, he rips off a piece and sticks it to the very end of his finger, holding it over.

Her face has lost what color it had. That's the only indication she gives that she's in pain. "Thanks," she murmurs, folding the new, clean gauze and placing it before she reaches out and takes the tape, carefully. "I try to keep a stocked kit in my locker, just in case. Sometimes things get rowdy in here." Like she has to explain pilots to him.

"Indeed, sir." Roubani tears off another piece, delivering it in the same manner as the first.

And so the process goes, until all four pieces have been placed. It's nowhere near as good a job as medical had done, but it seems servicable, at least. "There. I think that's got it."

Roubani folds the very tip of the tape over so it makes a flap that's easily found. He glances at the bandaging job and then gathers the gauze roll and the peroxide together. "You should rest, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

Hands fall to the side of her mattress as she simply sits there, legs over the side, feet on the floor. "No, thank you, Poet," she says in a quiet voice, watching her feet. "Thank you for your help."

Roubani considers the items in his hands and then sets them back down on her shelf. "I'll leave these here." His arms fold loosely over his chest. "Something bothering you, sir?"

It probably takes the last bit of strength the woman can muster up tonight, but she straightens and looks up at the Viper Pilot, offering him a small smile. "No, Poet," she says simply. "Nothing's bothering me." A flat out lie, but she's clearly not wanting to talk about it. "You need to get ready for CAP. Good hunting out there." A pause as she studies his face, something softening in her expression. "Come home safe, Roubani. Please."

"You're a poor liar, sir," Roubani says, mildly. "But I respect you too much to pry. Lie down, please…I'll bring you some juice in the morning."

"So are you, Poet," she says softly, watching his face. But then she turns and levers herself carefully into the bed. "Rest well when you get there."

The bait goes sailing over Roubani's head. He just nods when it seems he's getting his way, unfolding his arms and turning to get his jacket. "Goodnight, Thea." The use of her name comes out of nowhere and he doesn't stop to let it sink in, leaving through the hatch.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License