Countdown To Vampire Shift
Countdown to Vampire Shift
Summary: Samantha, Vendas, Kai, Fenix, and Castor all have different meetings before the start of the Vampire shift.
Date: PHD015
Related Logs: None
Players:
Samantha..Kai..Vendas..Fenix..Castor..

Castor has apparently just recently woken up and freshly showered, he does however take a moment to pause as he rubs one of his eyes, He makes his way into the lounge in an effort to find a cup of coffee so he can get his his head together before his shift starts.

Samantha is currently actually passed out on one of the couches in the back. She's not been sleeping well, so the couch ended up being her spot for the night and no one has yet had the heart to wake her. She's laying on her back, mouth open, snoring very lightly. a pair of reading glasses rest in her hair, a cold cup of coffee on the coffee table… and a book laying open and dropped on the floor.

Castor walks over to where Sam is and picks up the book placing it on the table. He doesn't have the heart to wake her either however he does gently move to take the glasses out of Sam's hair so he can places those on the table also.

Castor can't let Sam fall and so he says, "The top shelf…got it." He then notices that Sam is about to fall and says, "Eltee, you might want to wake up so you don't fall." He stands near by to try to stop her just in case she falls anyway.

Samantha is half way through rolling off the couch when his words sink in and she feels gravity taking over. She swears, scrambling, her arms flailing, but she manages to end up on the floor on her buttocks anyway. She swears loudly, grumbling to herself and looking up to him in embarrassement. Guess she's awake. "….Ah… hey. Sorry…"

Castor watches the fall as if it happened in slow motion. He doesn't add to embarrassement by laughing but instead he offers a hand to help Case up. "Hey yourself, sir, are the bunks too loud for you?"

Samantha accepts the palm, bringing herself up to standing with a rather sore motion. Mainly it seems to be her stomach, still aching from the fights last night. She rubs against it, a drowsy smile crossing her lips. "No, no… I didn't plan to fall asleep here. Just happened. I guess… well, where ever you are comfortable…"

Castor says softly, most likely from the bruise on his jaw, "Well, sir, I once knew a pilot who would sneak off and sleep in the hangar bay. Apparently he lived near a train station and he couldn't sleep in silence." He then moves to get that cup of coffee, "Coffee, sir?"

Samantha laughs faintly, finally sinking down into the couch and rubbing at her eyes in efforts to truly wake up instead of just jerk her head awake as she did a few minutes ago. "Yes, coffee would be… lovely… and call me Case, or Sam… out here, please." She stifles another yawn, sinking back…"Just hard to sleep lately. We all get it where ever we can."

Castor pours two cups of coffee and brings one to Samantha, "Sam it is." He grins, "Hot, black, and not as fresh as you'd probably like, here is your Kharon standard issue coffee." He then takes a seat and rubs his jaw, "How are you feeling after the dance?" He asks with concerned tones.

Samantha takes a good sip of her coffee and waves off the concern about the dance. "Second bout I've lost in three weeks. At least this time I didn't break my damn nose. I feel fine… just shamed. Gettin' too old for this nonsense and I hate it. All these younin's around the ship… can't fight like I used to. It's horrible, getting old. I promise you that." She gives him a bittersweet smile and takes a sip of her coffee, grunting in approval.

Castor chuckles, "That is why I fight harder. I've got to compete for everything, trust me, thirty year old eltee jigs are not in high demand." He then gives a sly grin, "Then again, it makes everything that much more of a challenge." He takes a sip of his coffee and winces slightly, "Frak…" Apparently part of his mouth was cut up on the inside.

Samantha drinks her coffee like it's water, very used to the flavour it seems and it doesn't bother her in the least. She gives him a slightly understanding smile, "Yeah, well… you'll get your promo soon. But yes, I hear that. feel like it's the senior staff and then a bunch of kiddos running around. Ah well, it's done now."

Castor says reflectively, "Which is why we have to help them all out. We were those kids not so long ago, Sam." He then grins, "The crew here is good, though they are all wild or angry."

(The scene shifts to the Flight Deck)

Vampire shift will soon be starting and normally the pilots would be prepping for the day before they go in for their daily briefing, however, one pilot is already prepped and is nosing about in the hangar. The Aquarian known as Castor, "Tinman" Leda is looking at a group of Raptor's and the deck hands working on them which is odd considering he is a Viper pilot.

There's no such thing as day or night in the Hangar Deck. The birds are going out at all hours, and that means the crew that keeps them flying is always around. And at least for the time being, that crew is controlled by Fenix. It'd make sense that the woman would keep an eye on the area… though the fact that she spends little time /elsewhere/ might raise a few eyebrows. A bit too involved in her work? Perhaps, considering she's dressed in off-duty garb under the haphazardly-donned jumpsuit. It's not her shift, but she's waist-deep in one of the mark IIs regardless. Performing some last-minute repair before the next launch, it would seem. "Jermaine, run another cycle on the RCS. Ground her until we get a pass." She watches while one of the Specialists — a blonde with a chip of her shoulder — takes off to gather the needed equipment, before leaning back with a hissed, "Frak." Dropping off the foot ladder she was using to support herself, and glancing around the Hangar with an agitated sort of scrutiny. What else is going to go wrong? It's just Castor's luck that he catches the Chief's eye, for the pilot's misguided attention earns a clipped, "There a problem?"

Castor breaks to watch the Blonde scuttle off and he smirks for a second as if she reminded him of something from his past. He then turns to look at the Fenix as he walks forward, "Hey Chief, you run a tight ship here." He pauses from speaking until he can get closer, "Thank you for that. You keep us flying so if you ever need my help, just let me know." his tone is sincere and respectful. He then takes a breath, "If you've got a moment, I'd like to chew your ear a bit and ask some questions about Raptors. I'm hoping to start cross training soon as a Raptor pilot. So, I'd like to know a bit about these big green birds."

He does well. Whether due to failing ships or simply the last three weeks, Fenix wasn't in the mood to deal with pilots. And judging by the way Jermaine hurried off, maybe not deckhands either. It's never a good day when your best birds are grounded, and no one seems to know why. But Castor plays his cards well. The first words have her eyes narrowing slightly — mockery? — but by the time he's finished with his offer, the woman's looking neutral, if not quite amiable. Small hands are dragged habitually down her front as she listens to the man speak, leaving smears of grease, before one is raised to shove a few stubborn curls off her forehead. Leaving, as it were, another streak of grease. "Mm," a half-acknowledgement, even as she glances toward said Raptors. "You got questions in mind, or you lookin' for specs?"

Castor says humbly, "Well, anything you can tell me really. Specs, quirks, anything." He says in all seriousness, "I don' want to fly something I don't understand. I may not know how to rip a Viper apart but I have studied well her design well enough to know how she works. As a pilot it isn't enough to just say, 'Make it go.' If one of your deck hands tells me the seconday core valve is shot I should at least have enough knowledge to say, 'Okay, that is going to take time to fix. Is another bird available? ' Or in the worst case scenario, 'Let me help you fix it." Again his tone is serious and focused, he really seems to want to learn about Raptor design. He pauses, "If you want, I can offer some of my free time if you have a Raptor that needs repair."

She's impressed. It's not obvious — she's been enlisted too long to admit open approval of anything, let alone a flyboy — but there's a subtle shift in her posture. A slight loosening of her jaw. And moreover, dark eyes are darting over the man with actual interest. Seeing him as more than another body in the hangar? Perhaps. "I can't go over it now," she admits, glancing toward the scurrying deck. "I got two birds giving us hell, and I need them up before the next CAP goes out." A pause, 'brows knitting slightly, then, "If you wanna come back tonight, during downtime, I can pair you with Jermaine or Harrison. They've been working on one of the Raptors, and I think they'll have her open before it's done." Tipping her chin toward the ship in question. "Once you know the bird, you'll know what to ask." A pause. "Sound fair?"

Castor listens intently to Fenix and then gives a warm smile. "Thank you, I would love the opportunity to learn a little bit about the Raptors." He thinks about the names, "Jermaine I know. He has worked on my bird in the past and he does good work." He then looks around the hangar trying to find Harrison, "I don't know Harrison, though to be fair Chief, I've only been here a short time, less than the other pilots. I came on during from the Charbydis so I'm still learning names." He then takes a second to look around the deck, "Hey, Chief, is there anything you want me to tell the pilots? I know we've got a bad reputation with your deck gang ad I'd rather try to bring us together rather than let old divisions get worse. Especially now, we've got to work together because I don't know when we are going to get replacement parts and that means stress for all of us."
<Newbie> Leviathan says, "aka, they're famous for something (positive) but even more infamous (negative) for something"

The deck is always moving, even during 'Vampire' shift. As it so happens Castor is already prepped and in his flight suit before his daily briefing and Fenix is still at work even in her off duty clothes. The two of them are speaking and Castor seems to be listening intently to the Chief as he waits for her reply.

A sooty 'brow is arching upward as Castor continues, and despite her best efforts, Fenix is looking a bit… dubious. Is this a set up of some sort? Have the jocks sent a sacrificial lamb? Or has the poor man come on his own, proferring a solo white flag? Whatever the case, it seems the woman is losing her patience with the odd encounter. A muffled crash is heard from near the Viper she was working on, and after a sharp glance to determine its cause, she's looking back to Castor with a faint smirk. "Welcome aboard, then. I ain' been here much longer. The beef between pilots an' deck crew's as old as cats and dogs. Jocks got no respect for knuckledraggers, and knuckledraggers get damn tired of cocky pilots. 'm sure you mean well, but it ain't somethin' a bit of diplomatic nudging is going to help. We'll learn to work together, or…" a pause, another smirk, "Well, if we don't, it won't matter anymore."

Speaking of fighter jocks, two of them have just entered the hangar bay from the corridor at three o'clock. One's brassy, the other even brassier; put together, it's enough to blind on sight. Kai's in his officerly blues, Vendas dressed down in offduties, and the pair seem to be talking zombies — of all things — as they cross the bay with ground-eating strides.

The Aquarian spots his superiors and says quietly to Fenix, "Sorry about the formality I'm about to show but brass is brass." He then snaps up to attention gives an appropriate salute to the officers, "Major, Captain!" he then asks, "Sir, If I may ask, what brings you both to the deck during 'vampire shift'?" His tone is curious but professional. As for Castor himself, his flight suit is spotless and has been kept up to the best of company regs.

Vendas' voice slowly fades in over the sound of a nearby airgun. "-as reading a book. Zombie Survival Guide or something, right? It was saying your best chance of survival is if you have a battle rifle, a mot.." And it fades. Vendas looks to Castor in his spotless salute and she smirks to Karim. "I told you not to wear your blues out here. It attracts attention. I hear its nearly as offensive as body odor to the snooty classes." The blonde looks back to Castor and taps a few fingers to her brow. "As you were, Lieutenant." She'll let Kai handle the rest.

Pilots are flocking the deck, and frak it all, they're /early/. Fenix's 'brows knit as she follows Castor's gaze toward the officers, and though her salute is as sharp as Castor's, her expression isn't quite so sincere. The Chief is looking a bit… agitated, to say the least. "Sirs," murmured — in case they were paying attention — before she flickers a half-hearted scowl toward Castor. If it weren't for the jock, she'd be waist-deep in a Viper right now. Not standing in a Pit o' Pilots. "Spider's got body odor?" Musing, voice low, in Castor's general direction. Not exactly /meant/ to carry… but Hangar Decks echo.

"Lieutenant." There's a curt nod from the Captain as he and Vendas draw up near their fellow pilot, and acting Deck Chief. The salute's returned with just a shade more formality than Vendas', though one could hardly term it flawless. "Good evening, Petty Officer." Blue eyes fix upon the woman for a disarming moment or two, then shift back to Castor. "The Major's developed a taste for human brains. Preferably those belonging to smart-mouthed little mechanics." It's spoken oh-so-drolly. Not a smile in sight.

Castor stands at ease as he watches his superiors, he doesn't seem adgitated be he give Fenix a look that clearly says, 'I'm sorry' he then turns his attention to Kai as he waits to hear what if anything is going on however as Fenix speaks Castorcan be seeing working really hard not to smile at what Fenix said, however he does suddenly cough or was that a stiffled chuckle, either way though he can't help it and a small smile creeps upon his face. As Kai speaks Castor listens and then when he has the opporunity to say, "Well, sir, as we all know mechanics tend to be smarter than your average pilot seeing as how we do stupid things all the time. However, I'd like to be that the Major doesn't eat the Chief's brain on account of the War and all and she'd be hard to replace, sir." There is one strange thing about the Aquarian pilot, the red mark on the side of his face, a souviner from the Dance.

"Pilots do stupid shit?" Vendas looks mildly offended. "Me? Marek? Us?" She looks to Kai, touching her fingertips to her heart. "Captain, say it ain't so." She smirks and looks back to Castor. "Lieutenant, don't sweat trying to impress the Lady of the Deck. She'll kill you in your sleep. Just by sheer delegation." She winks to the man and nods to Fenix. "Hey, Petty Officer. Come find me when you can come out from being eyeballs deep in what the Lieutenant here is admitting to breaking. I've got a job opportunity that requires your skillsets." Her voice grows steadily more serious as the last sentence is drawn out.

Smart-mouthed little mechanic? Fenix should look chastised. Really, she should. Sadly, the comment only earns a flickered smirk from the woman, followed by another too-precise salute toward Kai. As the officer actually addresses her — in a way that doesn't involve sideward namecalling — she's sobering a bit. Cocking a 'brow at the implied job, and then dipping her chin in acknowledgement. "Of course, sir." The scrawny woman is glancing between the pilots again, and while she stands a good head below… well, all of them, the outnumbering only resus in a slight straightening of her shoulders. Puff up, little blowfish. Puff up.

"It ain't so, sir," Kai answers dutifully, hands retreating to the pockets of his trousers while the CAG recruits Fenix for her dirty work. He, of course, doesn't stink. In fact, he's showered not too terribly long ago before zipping himself up in those fancy blues; by the look of him though, he could use a solid day or three of sleep.

Castor says, "Well, to be honest sirs, I am here to get some information on Raptors. The Chief has been kind enough to let me volunteer to work with some of the deck gang who will be fixing Raptors later on after I've flown CAP. I'd like to study them in case you decide to approve me for pilot cross-training. I won't fly anything I don't have some basic understanding of and to be honest I'd like to use the opportunity the Chief has kindly given me to improve the relationship between the pilots and the deck gang." He pauses for one moment before saying, "Which is a bit like trying to roll a stone up a hill, sirs, but someone has to do it."

After a few moments of conversation Castor is given a blessing to work with the deck gang on the Raptors and the Captain and the Major leave.

As all of the other pilots go about their business the deck once again returns to the command of the deck gang. Castor however is still standing beside Fenix as he says, "Well, that went well."

Fenix loses about an inch of height as the more daunting pilots make their way off the deck, though despite her easing tension, the woman looks a bit pensive as she stares after Vendas. A job that requires her skill set? This could go very well, or very poorly. Castor's comment breaks her from her reverie, however, and the Chief glances back to the jock. "I'm not sure Marek has a soul," she muses, with enough sarcasm to make her joke clear. "Never seen that bastard smile." It would appear they've lost all sense of formality. The brass leaves, and suddenly Castor isn't all that scary. "Can sure as hell land a bird, though…"

Castor eases up a bit as well, it would appear that the Aquarian knows military discipline well and is quiet the trained little Viper Jock. Howevr now that the brass is gone Castor's posture eases up and he then looks over at Fenix and says, "Of course Marek doesn't have a soul, it is part of taking command. Someday, if I am lucky, command will remove my soul and then I can be a Captain." He says in playful tones, "i've never seen him land a bird though." He then changes subject, "I'm serious about getting pilots and deck crew to work along though. On Aquaria, if you work on a ship it is like working with family, in fact, your crewmates are your family. So, I'd like to see my family get along."

The words earn an incredulous snort from the woman, and her 'brows remain furrowed as she glances up at him. "You're one of those stubbornly hopeful people, ain't you?" It's official, she's lost any semblance of duty. And if that weren't clear already, the woman's shrugging out of the upper half of her jumpsuit, revealing the off-duty tanks below. Tying the orange sleeves about her waist — keeping the suit up, for now — and then sweeping a look across the lingering activity on the deck. "We got a long way to go, but frak… if anything'll do it, war will." A one-shouldered shrug, and then she's shifting her weight toward her previously abandoned project. An unspoken cue that she wants to return. "Was there anything else, Lieutenant?" At least she sounds amicable? No more snapping.

Castor looks at Fenix and says, "I suppose I am one of those stubbornly hopeful people, which in my line of work is dangerous." He then smiles, "Yeah, you're right. We have a long way to go but your right, we are at war and this is where people bond." He says all of this as Fenix is getting ready to go back to work and so the pilot simply says, "Nothing else Chief, I'm sorry to take up your time I know you are busy and the last thing you need is a a pilot taking up your time." He then pauses, "Though Chief, I'll be back after CAP, so, thank you."
Fenix is moving almost before the pilot's finished his thanks, though to her credit, she does sweep a look over one shoulder. And — wonder of wonders — flickers the man a smile. "I get the feeling 'll seeyou around. Safe flying." She's gone then, scurrying up one of the ladders and all but vanishing inside the still-troubled bird.

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