Colonial Day - Day of Difference
Day of Difference
Summary: Sheridan starts the Colonial Day Festivities off with a speech of Kharon's new direction.
Date: PHD43
Related Logs: None

[ Cargo Bay - Deck 3 ]--------[ CEC Kharon ]—
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #43 OOC Time: Sun May 31 18:13:46 2009

The Cargo Bay has been cleaned up for the occasion, with some folding chairs and tables set out, covered in linen table clothes usually reserved for formal officer events such as Admiral dinners. It's clear that the decor had to be scrounged up for the party, the mismatched candles sit in glass tumblers on the tables, and paper flowers have been origamied around them to make some semblence of a centerpiece. At one end of the cargo bay, a podium has been set up, behind which are the flags of teh twelve colonies in their brass holders. No doubt the Commander is expected to give a speech.
There is a large bowl of punch that's little more then vaguely flavored cherry water, but in the end, it won't matter due to the amount of hooch poured into it. Various other bottles have been collected by numerous donors, including a half dozen bottles of ambrosia being donated by Sheridan himself. There wasn't much they could do as far as 'party foods', the kitchens not really equipped to make appetizers so the fare has been relegated to bowls of chips and pretzels and a few platters of cubed cheese and crackers. The area that normally houses the civillians has been coordined off, but the inhabitants have been invited to join in the evening's festivities. Never fear though, MPs are standing by to quelch any ne're-do-wells.
-=[ Condition Level: 3 - All Clear ]=---------

Tobias steps into the large Cargo Bay, already tugging at the uncomfortable dress uniform he truly regrets leaving nice civilian clothes at his house for times like this. Sighing slowly he slides into the room and begins to slowly look around, the people in civilian clothes catch his attention. Especially those of the female persuasion as his lips pull into a grin of sheer amusement while he slides himself into the room to find a spot to watch some of the festivities.

Sen is near the table, picking at a tray of cheese. Around her swarms a half dozen snipes, like goslings hesistant to stray too far from the protective wing of the ChEng. She smiles around mouthful of fingerfoods at something one of them said, giving an eyeroll and a shake of her head. With a glass of 'punch' in hand, she drifts away from the table as if experimenting how many will follow.

Steele stands at attention along the backside of the cargo bay near where the civilian area has been cordoned off. Although in dress uniform, he seems more on duty than here for the party. The Gunny keeps a cautious eye on all around as people enter and the civilians, looking a bit out of place, start to mingle into the larger room. The Sheriff seems ready for trouble, as civvies and military meet and alcohol is added to the mix.

Jupiter makes it all the way to the top of the stairs before she gets annoyed with her shoes, and removes them. Thunk, thunk. The silver sandals are tossed to the side of the hatch, and she continues on in barefoot. It was a nice ensemble for about four minutes. Did someone say cheese tray? The pilot in the red dress beelines for the food.

Kassia managed to scrap up a fairly decent looking dress, which she wears now almost with an air of uneasy. Being on a war ship in a pretty little dress isn't something the Raptor pilot is use too. Spotting the food table and booze, Kassia quickly makes her way over there, as Sen passes her away from the table the Raptor pilot gives the Chief engineer a friendly smile.

If anyone was expecting Cygnus to wear a suit and tie to such an event, they're in for a shock. His true personality is vividly represented in the outfit he wears. A thick and expert application of eyeliner rings his eyes, causing the startling blue of them to to be highlighted. A black military coat, the style of which was worn in ages past are accompanied by skinny black pants. Both are embellished by hints of blood red and gold. Black fingerless gloves obscure his hands, but draw attention to his neatly polished fingernails which have been painted in black. Mac's hair falls in a soft wave of chestnut brown, silky and shiny well below his shoulders, it's freed from its usual tight and neat ponytail for the occasion. If one had to peg a profession on the Lieutenant based solely on his current attire, one might guess he was likely somehow affiliated with a band getting ready to perform on stage, rather than a pilot or a priest.

Eventually, the figure of Willem can be spied entering the converted cargo hold very much taking advantage of the allowance of civilian clothing. Decked out in a black suit, his hands are tucked behind his back and his shoes make a repeated 'tap, tap, tap' as they echo against the floor. He cranes his head to one side and his scrutiny darts around the environs, picking out faces in a crowd. His eyes seem to lock onto the bar for a little longer than anything else. "Damn." the pilot mutters before he continues to play the game of 'spot-the-Kharon-crew-out-of-uniform' that he had just begun.

John is present, somewhere in the background. He doesn't seem to pay too much attention to what's happening, but more to the people present. Looking a bit lost in thought for the moment.

Tobias mills around a second then after the initial lap and returns to actually paying attention to faces to start associating people who look so much different out of uniform. Finally making his way to the cheese tray area he slides in front of Jupiter, sliding off his gloves and reaching down to snatch up some cheese and quickly popping it into his mouth.

Jupiter pauses with a piece of cheese halfway to her mouth. She takes in the outfit Tobias is wearing, pops she cheese into her mouth, and says absolutely nothing about it. She doesn't really have to. It's all in the eyes.

Sen offers an enigmatic smile to Kassia, the expression meeting her eyes and causing them to crinkle around the corners. She's easily in her mid-thirties and trying to hold her own in a sea of young officers and enlisted with no one to ask 'does my butt look big in this dress?' in berthings before she left. Anyone who would drift close enough to get pieces and bits of her conversation with her snipelings would get dazzled by a thrilling conversation about gasket conversions.

Steele blinks at he sees Jupiter come down the starts, his head doing a bit of a doubletake to make sure he saw what he saw and his eyebrows rise of thier own volition and he lets a little grin escape before looking around to others. He keeps a very close watch on the civilians especially, but manages to eye Kassia and the Chief Engineer arriving as well. Cygnus guets a rather critical view as well, and the Gunny just shakes his head, fighting back a chuckle at the whole affair.

Kassia wonders away from the Cheese table now a drink in her hands, she mingles around until she finds Willem. "Hey you." She says softly going to stand next to him. "Looks kinda nice doesn't it, with the candles and the flowers. They did a good job." She sips from her glass looking around at the arrange of people, the marines lining the wall, the prettily dressed, Jupitor and the rather shocking looking Cygnus.

Pretty much all the non-standard outfits get a longer look from Willem. His eyes widen a little bit first at Jupiter because, well, if you can't figure that one out you need to go back to kindergarten. He stops a little bit short from outright -staring-. Kassia and the ChEng are similarly dressed to the proverbial nines as well and he then peers over at Cygnus. His mouth opens a little bit. "Guess that's what they wear in the Cult of Ares when nobody's looking." He quite unsmoothly comments aloud, although he doesn't seem really mean-spirited or derisive in his tone. Kassia's approach snaps him out of people-watching though as he clears his throat. "Oh. Um. Yeah. I'm pretending it's not a cargo hold right now. Pretending. Pretending." He finishes this with a wry grin and stares over at the makeshift bar. It's -probably- where he's headed.

Tobias looking to Jupiter curiously he gives her a once over as he tugs the glove back on, "Well you clean up nice without a broken nose, Sir." Smiling to her he tugs at his dress uniform and detaches himself from the cheese tray line and begins to move back towards the center of the room. A passing glance to Sen is given followed by a smile, wink and a nod before the Marine moves on to finding a place away from the collecting masses.

Slipping his way into the Cargo Bay, Ashe Swift takes about four steps into the are and stops, looking to and fro. There is a definitive hesitation in his posture as he evaluates a significant tactical disadvantage being present. So slipping hands into pockets of his trousers, he opts to stand back and observe.

"You didn't break it." Jupes pops another piece of cheese in her mouth. The tone is accompanied by a little smirk, just keeping the marines solid in their details. She watches Tobias go, briefly, then turns back to the food.

The strange and/or shocked looks don't phase Cygnus in the least. He's completely at ease with who is, or so it would seem. If others want to judge him? That's their business. This type of 'civilian' dress doesn't seem to be out of the ordinary for him at all, judging by the way he wears it so comfortably. Blue eyes drift over the crowd, trying to guage who's assembled, and he makes a point of heading over to the civilians assembled first, moving among them for a few minutes to greet the ones he more familiar with by name, having a brief chat here and there.

Matto might be… underdressed for the occasion, but he certainly seems comfortable enough, patting down the stairs in a pair of grass-stained sneakers and giving Marty's sister a brief looking-at on his way past. Was there cheese? He'll get in on some of that cheese action. Note to self. Go to Virgon. Bring back goat.

Kassia grins up at Willem for a second before he wonders off and she's left in the middle of the room looking around. She pauses her lips and just stays there for now, like a duck out of water, she sips from her glass ever now and then, watching, waiting…

Quietly and distinctly late the Commander quietly steps into the room. Eyes slide across the room a moment as he walks over to the Gunnery Sergeant and gently pats the man on the back and leans over to comment quietly to the Marine, "I guess we should let them know I am here Gunny." Stepping away from the man he slides his arms behind his back and watches the crew miling around quietly but not saying a word to them and doing his best to stay out of eyeshot from most of them.

Sen pauses in conversation as she gets a wink from Tobias, and she's only brought back to animation by one of her snipes saying, "Sir?" And touching her arm. Sen shakes away whatever was clouding her brain for a moment, then turns to her snipe and smiles widely before asking through clenched jaw, "Is there something in my teeth?"

Jupiter picks up a little cup, but instead of putting a drink in it, she punks a few pieces of cheese into the cup. Portable and less likely to tip and spill than a small plate or napkin. Heck yeah, she uses that education every damn day. Cheese acquired, she resumes mingle. Ever had the feeling you're being watched? Jupiter glances around slowly. She subtly reaches up to brush her fingertips across her face, perhaps checking for boogers.

Steele takes in a deep breath in preparation to bellow loudly enough to overcome the festivities. The Sheriff leans his head back and with all his being, he gives out a loud shout, "Commander on deck!" And then goes to full attention again, ramrod straight in his position there along the wall.

Tobias blinks a second at the sudden command being issued and his eyes dart to Steele then out of pure training he immediately goes to attention and locks his eyes on the far bulkhead.

Roubani is about as underdressed as Matto, but really, did you expect this particular Ensign to attempt to stand out? He at least didn't get stuck with using a wheelchair in the end, though medical did send him here with a cane and a warning as to where it would get shoved if he went around without it. And for good reason; it's getting quite a lot of his weight as he walks, still quite slowly. He's barely gotten there where Steel shouts as to Sheridan's presence, and he gently straightens his shoulders as much as he can.

Willem shrugs a bit and gives Kassia a slightly sheepish grin as she walks on off, before relaxing a bit and stuffing his hands in his pockets languidly, taking a few shuffling steps towards the bar. He hasn't noticed the Commander's presence, or really anyone else that he readily approaches. The bar's here, and that's good enough for him. Of course, he gets three feet deep and stands straight as Steele barks. Whoops. Guess -that- will have to wait til later. He wheels around on his heel and cranes his head to seek out the source of the announcement.

Though Cygnus is hovering near to a group of the civilians, it's clear he's one of the Kharon's crew by the immediate way he snaps to crisp attention. His focus moves away from the people at his side to the form of his Commanding Officer, and there it remains, for the duration.

The sweep of a hand over the dress to briefly check to be sure it hasn't ridden up somwhere unfortunate is stalled as a bellow of CoD goes out across the bay. Jupes turns to face the flags, usually loose posture flicking into attention mode. Her chin comes up, shoulders back, and she stares straight ahead.

As conversations die in a collective hush that follows Commander on Deck, Sen straightens up from her casual posture. You can take the crew out of uniform, but that doesn't mean you wipe away ages of ingrained training. Eyes front, spine stiff, expression neutral.

Kassia comes to attention the second the bellow is registered the drink awkward in her left hand at her side.

"Adonis -fucking- Reborn," Kissy mutters briefly as the military shout that cuts through the festivities starteles him, and he lifts a hand to his chest. I pledge allegiance to the Commander. And not having a heart attack. His eyes skip to Kassia, then to Sen, then back to Jupiter briefly. Huh. Anyhow, looking up to the Commander, now.

Letting out a simple nod the Commander looks to Steele commenting, "Thank you Gunny." The command is accented as the MPs all collectively snap-to, heels clicking together with feet sliding across the floor. Leaning his body forward slightly he begins the slow walk up along the length of the cargo bay, arms still folded around his back as he passes simple smiles and nods to those in uniform as he makes his way up to the podium and steps onto the small stand to give him just some elevation over the crew. Eyes slowly look over the sea of uniforms and civilian uniforms, "Crew, As you were." Emits clearly across the cargo bay from the Commander as his arms unfold and he gently rests them on the edge of the podium.

The Commander slowly looks over the pool of soldiers eyes focusing on many along the front lines of the crowd before he begins to sway his body slightly and his tone and speech following the rhythm of his bodies subtle movements, "I would like to take the time to thank all of you for coming to these festivities in celebration of Colonial Day. This day marks a large part of our history and has helped us becoming who we are now." A glance to the deeper recesses of the crowd, "Now this day means even more to each and every one of us. We have begun a unique journey that no Colonial Fleet has pursued in some time. We are on a mission to survive. An unfortunate set of events has unfolded that we do not even know the full impact of, but as many of you have proven throughout the missions and encounters that we are not willing to roll over and let this enemy conquer us." Eyes slide to some of those injured that have attended, "Through personal injury and pain we have pushed through these battles and we have won. Small victories. Hard fought victories. Victories though and ones that we will need more of as this ship continues forward." Pausing a moment he looks down just briefly then looks back to the crowd, "We have also lost good sailors and marines in these combats. Their thoughts are always with us and we will use them as inspiration to continue our fight. To learn what exactly happened and beat the enemy once again." There is another pause he reaches over to hold out his hand for a cup of water which a young Ensing quickly ushers over to him. The pause continues as he takes a slow sip of the water to hydrate.

Kassia relaxes some, moving to find a spot where she can lean and watch the Commander speech. Her back goes against the wall, hand going under the elbow in shich she holds her drink and she relaxes eyes front, a neutral express on her usual cheerful face.

Steele nods to the Sheridan and when the 'at ease' is given, the Sheriff slips back to a lose parade rest but maintains his duty posting, having fun vicariously through the others for now. He looks down at the MP under his command, nodding to a few as he sees those of slightly better bearing. When The Man speaks, the Gunny's attention moves fluidly to listen, a proud smile on his face.

Jupes goes back to a more casual stance, though her arms slip behind her back, and she leaves her hands clasped there for the duration of the speech. Her eyes remain on the Commander, and she nods along with a couple of things he says.

Roubani takes the opportunity to sit down on the edge of one of the folding chairs before Sheridan starts. Command speeches can be long and it wouldn't do to move in the middle. The cane gets hooked on the back of the chair and he listens.

Cygnus shifts his stance into an easier one, clasing his hands loosely as he listens to the Commander speak. Here and there, his eyes dart around the crowd, perhaps a more priestly type of habit, as he drinks in what he can of body language and facial expressions to try and guage the mood and spirits of his fellow crew members.

Wil simply stands where he is, half-smiling a second as the Commander gives his 'as you were' bit, but the smile fades as he begins speaking. It'd be bad form to start getting liquored up in the middle of a speech, of course, especially one with this measure of gravity. If nothing else, the Junior Grade Lieutenant is adhering to something resembling decorum here. He doesn't seem cheerful though. His eyes dart to the floor for a few lingering moments.

Setting the glass down on the podium he continues, "Now on this day. A critical day in the history of not only our lives, the Kharon, but the entire Fleet and the humanity we swore to protect. I am issuing a new set of orders and mission for this carrier. We are going to find our survivors. We are going to find our homes and we are going to rebuild. All missions currently planned have been rescinded. We now have a new mission. Survivial and to get back our port of call — Scorpia. We will go to Kharon's home and find out just happened from these attacks. We will develop a plan. We will resuppply and we will strike back!" The Commanders tone raises sharply at that comment. Eyes narrowing slightly as he continues, "This is our day of celebration and we will not allow an enemy to take that from us. We will make this day mean even more to our future generations, without any chance of a future threat from enemies like this. Tonight is your night, my life and this ship is indebted to each one your skills, loyalty and your pride for us to keep our heads held high. To look anyone in the eye and know we are doing everything we can to survive. Tonight, you get a much deserved celebration. A celebration of life. A celebration of the future. Tonight we give up all fear of not knowing. Tomorrow we begin our new mission and get back our lives. To all those who have fallen, you will be missed. To all those who watch over us, we will honor you. Today is Colonial Day and the Colonies will rise again!" There is a pause as he lifts his glass of water, "So say we all!"

Sen relaxes a bit, even going so far as to take another sip of her heavily spiked punch. Nothing the Commander says doesn't hit home, and its an odd bitter sweet mixture of emotions on the ChEng's face. She lost a lot some forty odd days ago, but she's not alone. Everyone here has lost /something/ great in Cylon attacks. Her snipes seem to scatter to the winds at the end of the speech, and Sen is left alone to loft her glass and echo the, "So Say We All!" With a strong voice befitting her rank.

Tobias never really backed down from his attention stance as he barks out a response of "So Say We All!" with the others present. Grinning slightly he can't help but simply nod to the words of his Commander.

Matto settles in for the speech, himself, laning against a convenient bit of bulkhead not quite out of cheese range. He tries to keep his eyes on the Commander, but they skip off into the crowd, taking stock of the red dress posse and briefly wondering whether that's meant to be some sort of code— wait. What on the twelve colonies is the Skypilot wearing? That gets a half-hidden smile out of him, but he clears his throat and looks back toward the Commander for the new mission statement. He doesn't outwardly seem to feel one way or the other about it, but he chimes in politely enough at the end, answering back in unison with the rest of the room.

"So say we all," Jupiter agrees, following it up with a shrill, fingers-in-the-mouth whistle. Shut up, it's not my fault that sounds so dirty b/c of my callsign.

Steele yells even louder than he had announcing the Commander, his voice filled with anger for the enemy that has struck so hard and yet filled with hope for their continued future. The Commander's words all hit home to the Sheriff, bringing a fire to rise within him. "So say we all!"

Kassia can feel shameless tears roll down her cheeks at the words of the commander and for a brief moment her eyes dart over towards the marines and back again, indeed so many lost. At the mention of taking back Scorpia her eyes widen, is that possible, when the commander speech the ritual words she repeats after him "So say we all." She whispers softly bowing her head and giving a few words of comfort to herself.

Roubani's dark eyes stay level as he watches their commander through this speech and subsequent announcement. What reaction it may be causing in the Ensign bows to a simple, stoic nod. "So say we all."

"So say we all," Cygnus shouts out heartily from where he stands. The speech that Sheridan has just given is likely exactly what every soul on board this ship has needed to hear. A direction. A purpose. He's fairly certain that morale has lifted with this new declaration, and he turns his attention for a moment to the civilians gathered near him, trying to guage their reaction to this new change as well.

Sheridan lowering his glass he passes a nod to the crew present. Stepping down from the podium he turns and walks back down along the same path he came in. Pausing briefly to sanatch up a piece of cheese from the tray, he pops it in his mouth sliding his arms behind his back and without much fanfare he heads towards the hatch he came in to.

Wil's…still looking down. Through most of it. Whatever he's thinking, he's clearly not interested in telegraphing or sharing with the rest of the assembled revellers. At the very end of the speech, he mouths along with the others "So say we all." But it's not audible. Finally, he tilts his head upwards and expressionlessly watches the Commander retreat towards the hatch. He shrugs a little, unevenly, and just continues on over towards the booze without a word.

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