Downtime
Downtime
Summary: Legacy, Timon, and Solminihac talk civilians and other issues in the game room. There are some bad puns.
Date: PHD084 (11 July 2009)
Related Logs: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)
Players:
Legacy..Solminihac..Timon..

Kharon - Game Room

Ahh, the Game Room. What is, ostensibly, the Disney World of the ship. Storage and the Head are more like the former Pleasure Island - adults only. The Game Room is supposed to be the happiest place on the ship, and yet it's fairly quiet this afternoon. The joy of reunions has been somewhat overshadowed by the overarching remembrance of where they actually are. People are working and working hard. Thea's found herself a corner and is curled up with paperwork - though she appears to be off duty.

Solminihac is still in uniform as he comes into the game room, hands in pockets. So this is what the military does in their off time. Huh. The video games stand gets eyed, then the rows of books and games, and he moves closer to peer at a few book titles on the shelves.

There's the quiet flip sound of a folder being closed, and Thea puts it aside - only to reach for the next one. As she's reaching, she glances up, idly scanning the room. That is, until her distraction comes into view. "Evening, Doctor."

Solminihac glances over his shoulder. Not that the Kharon doesn't have more doctors than just him, but it's a reasonable bet. And it pays off. "Hey, good afternoon." He shifts on his feet, turning around to mostly face her. "Althea, right?"

Legacy chuckles softly. "Thea or Black Cat, when I'm out of uniform," she tells him quietly, leaving her folder closed on her lap. "How're you doing this evening?"

"Thea, then, if you don't mind." Solminihac winces slightly. "Afraid I'm bad with the callsign thing, unless it lets me be lazy with syllables. I'm alright, what about you? How's that shoulder today?"

"Sore," she says with a soft laugh. "But I think that's more because I'm doing paperwork. Doctor Leon prescribed me some muscle relaxers and sedatives sometime back, but I'm holding off on those." Her nose crinkles slightly and she reaches for the glass of water next to her, taking a sip.

Solminihac nods to that, jaw working thoughtfully. "Well. I'm never going to step on another doctor's prescriptions, but I promise I'll see what I can do about you needing those as little as possible."

Thea gives him a wry smile and gestures to the nearby seats in invitation. "Next time I need to listen better when he gives the instructions. I took the first muscle relaxer with my nightly brandy and apparently chased a Viper pilot through the laundry room. He'd…taken something from me." Her lips twitch, teasingly. "I'm a lightweight, so haven't been taking the pills unless I absolutely, positively can't deal with the pain."

Solminihac grimaces, sliding his hands out of his pockets and taking the offered seat. The blue jacket gets tugged away from his neck as the collar tries to garrotte him. "I'd tell you you need to watch that, but I'm sure you've figured it out. I'll do a review of the medication with you tomorrow for officiality's sake. How often does the pain get that unbearable?"

She shakes her head. "Not too much. I was having a good bit of trouble sleeping before the crash and I tend to carry all of my tension in my shoulders." Which were like rocks yesterday. "I've only used three of the muscle relaxers and one of the sedatives since I got them about a month ago."

Solminihac nods again. He rests his arms down on his knees, letting weight on them. "Ever see anyone before about the tension? Before all…" His finger spins idly, indicating gods know what. "…this, I mean."

She cradles her glass of water and laughs quietly. "Ahhh, no," she says quietly. "Used to be I had other ways of working it out. A few hours in the sunshine was usually good enough to keep a handle on it. The tension will pass, eventually." Her head tilts a little to one side. "How about you? How're you dealing with all the tension floating around."

"Keeping a handle on it only works for so long," Solminihac tells her, briefly spreading his hands and then refolding them. "A good treatment is always larger than the single part that hurts. Me, I'm alright. If this collar would stop giving me rashes, I could concentrate a lot better." His partial grin makes that not serious. Mostly.

She curls up a little more in her seat, head canting to the side as she watches the man, almost birdlike. "You're allowed to unbutton it," she murmurs, grinning. "If Pike asks, just tell her you need your throat to concentrate. When did you arrive?"

"Nine days ago? Something like that." Solminihac makes a wry smirk as he pops the collar button with his thumb. "If you mean topside. I'd been down in your cargo bay since the day you came back to the Charybdis a few months ago."

A brow goes up at that and she laughs quietly. "I THOUGHT your face looked familiar." Thea was known to pop down there once in awhile to circulate. "How long have you been a doctor?"

Solminihac nods slightly as to his looking familiar. "Wouldn't be surprised." He offers her a faint smile, then taps his fingers on the back of his other hand. "I've had my M.D. for five years. I think." His eyes make a flick up and to the right. "Aye, this is five. You've been a pilot longer than that, I'd bet." While his grasp of standard is perfect, there's shades every so often of an unintrusive accent. Gemenon, perhaps.

Thea's eyes crinkle somewhat at the corners and she nods, once. "Much longer than that. I was in the cockpit from the time I could smack the pretty buttons," she says with a soft laugh. "I did my 4 years at the Academy, majoring in flight training, though I knew how to fly long before that. Technically, I've been a military pilot for the past 17 years." A brow tilts upward a little before she adds, "I grew up at the Colonial pilot training academy on Gemenon."

Solminihac smirks. "I could've given you a run for the money, but you know. That pesky long-ass medical school requirement." He idly scratches his forearm through a blue sleeve, giving her last words a neutral nod. "Oh, did you. The one near…damn." His fingers snap softly and then flick at his temple. "Ah…which base was that, right there?"

She watches him scratch and is about to reply when she gets taken by a sneeze. It's not a big one, but damn, she sneezes JUST like a girl, complete with that little high pitched 'shhhnwee!' at the end. Her hand got to her mouth just in time. "Sorry," she murmurs. "Dover," she supplies for him. "Dover Air Force Base." A smile lights her face slightly as she mentions it. "It was a wonderful place to grow up."

Solminihac smiles at the sneeze. "Bless you." Automatic response, and he goes on. "Dover, that was it. Can't say I knew it, but I'd seen pictures of it back when I first did service. They had them on the walls in the recruiter's office. 'Doooooooooover'." His voice deepens dramatically, and he splays a hand in an arc to indicate the far wall. "Where even the john water's made of gold."

Legacy actually snorts with laughter at that. An actual snort. "Oooh, yeah, right. Given the number of times I had to clean the damned things," she murmurs. "That was my father's punishment when I acted out. I got the same punishments as his cadets. After I left for the Academy, I couldn't even LOOK at a toothbrush for two months. I'm surprised you know it, though - not too many people do, even in recruiting offices." She pauses and pulls a tissue out of her pocket, wiping her nose absently with it before tucking it away again. "And thank you."

"They were trying to draw pilots, if I remember," Solminihac sits up, rolling his shoulders and then settling back in the chair. "Not really sure who came up with that bright idea. Closest most of us had ever been to something that flew was getting bit by a mosquito."

The Captain's eyes twinkle just a little and she puts her file folder to the side. "So, from what you've said, am I to take it you're from Gemenon," she asks quietly. "And no, you don't have to answer, if you don't want to."

"Since you brought up Gemenon, I think you already had an inkling," Solminihac's brows raise and lower as he smiles a little. "Out in the sticks, though. When they said 'out yonder', that's about where they meant."

"Ahhhhh," she says with a knowing nod. "Out in BFE. I was out there, once, but the dualing banjos scared me back. Momma always told me the back woods were no place for a city wuss like me." Her lips twitch even more, but then soften into a smile. "But it was amazingly beautiful country. I used to fly over some of the back areas."

"It was very beautiful, yes." Solminihac muses on the fact for a moment. "But very isolated. Needed a lot that it wasn't able to get, and people suffered." He pauses on that thought and adds, "Sort of like that cargo bay's become these days."

Timon arrives from the Hallway - Deck 3, Fore.
Timon has arrived.

The smile fades from Thea's eyes and she nods slightly. "I get down there once a week or so, when I can," she says quietly. "What needs aren't getting met? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Pike has us authorised to work down there as we like," Solminihac tells her, nodding. "I'll likely see you there quite a bit. How's your first aid knowledge? Tell you, I could use someone to help teach some basic courses. We can't always be there, and being able to take care of one's own basic health is a big issue."

Yes, Solminihac — that's a lesson Timon's learned all too well. Fresh from his therapy session at the gym, which consisted of various stretching exercises commonly assigned to pregnant women, the pilot now arrives in the game room with one of his precious books in hand, clutched under the arm holding the cane that guides him forward.

"It's…decent," Thea says with a faint laugh. "Could be better. I'm more adept at fixing raptors than people. I can, however, teach just about anything I've had time to study." She takes another sip of her water, seeming to savor it. "I'd be glad to help out. I've tried to go down during off-duty times just to talk with people, but they're not overly happy to see military folk." She glances over as the door opens and smiles as Timon enters. Oh, of course there are worry lines between her eyes, but the smile is genuine. "Ahhh, my prodigal pilot."

"I know," Solminihac says, as to her statement on military folk. "Tell you the truth, it's part of the reason I came back to the military. They know me down there. If my being in uniform doesn't scare them, maybe we can make an inroad somewhere. Love to have you with. I'll brush you up on our trainings." His eyes tilt up as she talks to someone by the door. Oho, one of his walking PT experiments. "Hey, there."

"Returning to the fold, Captain, hat in hand." The pilot hobbles over to one of the nearby couches, flopping down with a labored sigh. His book is jarred loose from his armpit and lands, quite fortuitously, in his lap. "Lieutenant Longlastname." That, obviously, is to Solminihac. "Didn't expect to see you twice a day."

Thea remains curled up in her seat, in her off-duties, files around her. "Don't worry, Ivory," she says with a soft laugh. "I get to see him too. At least I don't have to do introductions. And Lieutenant…" She looks back to Sol, a bit more serious now. "Just let me know when's good for you."

"Mild irony that 'Longlastname' is shorter than my real name, isn't it," Solminihac says to Timon, wryly. "They called me Dr. Sol at the clinic, you're welcome to do the same. Or Cristobal, or Cris." Thea gets a nod at that. "We can talk about it after your appointment, how's that."

"Better than Doctor Pike, this one." Timon slicks back his longish curls, brushing sweat from his brow onto his arm before wiping it against the side of his sweats. "The CMO nearly gave me an aneurysm when she mentioned the word 'operation' and pointed to my leg." Which, if anybody cares, looks all better now, bundled up in fresh bandages and a brace. "Black can confirm this, Dr. Sol." He doesn't opt for the informal 'Cris,' at least not yet. Propriety: Ivory has it.

"Stroke," Thea corrects without thinking. "Aneurysm is something that you're already pre-disposed to, usually caused by a weakness in an arterial wall." Pause, blink. "I've been spending -way- too much time in sickbay. That's a conversation I recall from when Major Pike was taking a bullet from my…" It's a good thing the sneeze stops her dead. Yet another girly sneeze, covered.

"Not better, just not a surgeon," Solminihac points out to Timon, with a slight smirk. Don't Rag On Your Boss, point achieved. "That leg does look a lot better though." Pointing out the obvious, maybe, but sometimes the obvious is nice to hear. He's about to comment on Thea's blurt when she sneezes again. "Bless you." Half a beat. "Feeling alright?"

"Maybe I have a weak arterial wall somewhere in my aorta, Captain." Timon's retort is mild; indeed, the man gives her a sheepish smile as he discreetly moves out of the way of any stray projectiles that might come from his CO's mouth. "Or, I have no idea what I'm talking about. For my sake, let's hope it's the latter. And yes, Doctor — it is. Maybe I'll be able to find a dance partner now."

Legacy pulls out the tissue again, looking mildly grumped. "Just tired," she tells Sol, delicately blowing her nose, head turned away from the two men. "And it seems like my allergies are kicking up. I'm allergic to being back on the ship." She wrinkles her nost at Ivory and stops just short of sticking her tongue out at him.

"That, I can't help you with," Solminihac tells Timon. "Unless you like dancing with a crutch wearing a wig." His gray eyes glance over Thea, noting her eyes, the sneezy nose, the water. "Alright. Speak up if you're still sneezing tomorrow. Enclosed spaces are no joke to deal with if we don't catch things early."

"You should try my strategy," Ivory remarks, looking idly at the back cover of his book. Most of it is covered by his good hand, but the title — Reason: Pure and In Practice — is quite visible, embossed in gold on black leather spine. "Get shot in the hand and leg, and look — as if by magic, work disappears, and you can sleep all you want." He sounds like he's actually complaining about having nothing to do. Then, to Cris, deadpan: "Negative, Doctor. And anyway, you're the one who'd look better camped up."

"Don't make me give you my paperwork, Ivory," Thea tells him with a quiet laugh. She nods to Sol, though - to show she's not ignoring him. "The next shot may go to your head, where it won't hurt."

Solminihac grins briefly at Timon. "I'm too short for showbusiness. You, though, you've got a shot." He looks back at Thea, shrugging. "If he gets bored with that, the CNAs have plenty of bedpans they could use a hand with."

"Nothing there to hurt, Captain." Timon dips his head down; in these battles, best to let the Captain win. "Seriously, though. I'd be glad to help. I write with my right hand, after all." And he sounds serious, too, though that lasts all of a few seconds — Sol's grin is returned. "In that case, you'd best prepare to treat me for tomato-related bruises. Audiences these days have no mercy."

Thea curls up with her water, seeming quite content to let the men banter back and forth. Except for the rocks she has for shoulders, she seems relaxed. "I don't think I want to get in the midst of this," she murmurs, laughing.

"Well, if you run fast enough, they won't be able to ketchup." Solminihac cocks a finger at Timon with a pasted-on grin, then rolls his eyes at himself and coughs.

"Shoot him, oh Captain, my Captain. Then we'll see if you, Doctor, can heal thyself." Timon's book lies forgotten on his lap; his cane leans against the couch cushion to his right. His face bears a vague smile that flickers on and off like a broken bulb.

Thea stares at Sol then groans quietly. "I thought you took a vow NOT to hurt people," she complains, laughing. "Oh, that was horrid, utterly horrid. You should be ashamed of yourself, Doctor."

"'Do no harm' is not in the oath, I'll have you know," Solminihac points out to Thea, pedantically. "Lies, dirty lies. But I'll refrain, wouldn't want Pike getting a report that I've been abusive to my patients." His eyes have wandered absently to the title of Timon's book.

"But wait." Timon raises his eyebrows, doing his best to impersonate the archetype of Disputatious Student. "Has he really violated his oath? For I'm told that laughter is the best medicine. And you laughed, Captain." He's not the punny type, this one; instead, he'll take sanctuary in cliche. Then, more quietly: "That's good."

Thea just gives Ivory the eye for a moment, then smiles. That's a scary smile. "You know, thirty minutes may not be enough," she says, flipping her file open on the casual comment and glancing down at the contents. "I'm thinking maybe sixty or ninety. I know that everyone in the squadron is just craving a nice, lengthy lecture."

Solminihac gives Timon a quirked-brow look. You know, that 'oh you frakked, son' sort of look. He folds his hands behind his head with deliberate slowness, smirking.

Well, that's awkward — and, likely, more awkward than normal because Timon has no idea what was objectionable about what he just said. The lieutenant plows on gamely, though, taking the lumps he's given. "Squadron doesn't much like me all that much anyway, I wager," says the bookish pilot. Because of his winning ways. "I'm sure a ninety-minute talk would just confirm my image as our wing's resident pedant."

The sigh that slips out of the Captain's lips is one of those long-suffering sighs usually heard from the mothers of teenagers. "Well, given that it's shared with Thorn," she comments quietly. "I'm certain you two could find MORE than enough to talk about to fill up ninety minutes. But for now, the original thirty holds."

Oh. So that's wht legacy's talking about. Solminihac's expression sobers as he's reminded of his encounter with Komnenos, his thumb just scratching the back of his dark blond hair.

Believe it or not, Timon's thirty-two, though he's got quite the youthful soul. "He's miffed enough about this for the two of us," the pilot observes. "Thorn, that is. By some perverse twist of fate, I find myself actually looking forward to returning to a podium for the first time in eight, nine years." Not that you should assign him a different punishment, though it's not like he can do much physical labor with his busted hand and still-healing foot.

Clearly Ivory hasn't been with Thea long enough to know how … creative she can get. She looks to be about to comment about Thorn, but her lips close after a moment and she nods. But then she catches sight of Sol and cants her head slightly. "Everything alright," she asks him, voice quiet.

Solminihac keeps his hands behind his head. "Think I met the other participant in the lecture series earlier." From his tone, Komnenos didn't exactly come off very well. He glances at Timon, then back at Legacy. "This the whole protocol issue?"

Fortunately for Timon, Thea hasn't been with him long enough to know that the absolute worst thing she could make him do is order him to ask a nice lady out to dinner. He's a geek, not a lover. At the thought, though, his dim smile flickers off, leaving his countenance oddly blank until something else comes up. "Yeah," he says to the doctor. "You'll have to forgive him. I offend people when I try to be polite and fail. Him, well." The pilot won't say that much about his ECO, though a few words do bubble up despite his best efforts: "We call him Thorn for a reason."

The look Thea gives Sol is part surprise, part guardedness. She nods, once, in reply to his question, curiosity in her eyes.

"I forgive him. For that part, anyway," Solminihac says, easily enough. He seems completely past that part of it. Then there's kind of a lengthy pause, where he appears to be weighing how or even whether to speak. His eyes are on Timon. Then he shakes his head to Thea. "It's fine, no worries."

Timon, for once, has nothing to say. His good hand rises to scratch at the bridge of his nose, grimacing as it encounters a bump that wasn't there before his little sojourn planetside.

"Forgive him," Thea asks, curiosity piqued now. She looks between the pair and closes her file, looking more like the Captain than an officer relaxing. "Ok, what am I missing, gentlemen?"

"It was nothing," Solminihac repeats, with a slight shake of his head. He doesn't sound so much like he's in the man's defence as that he's settled on not escalating it. "Really, sir. It's fine." No Thea, it's 'sir'. He's serious.

So Thorn's fate rests in Ivory's hands — as usual. Fortunately for him, the pilot doesn't seem inclined to get his GIB in too much trouble, though he knows he's got to say something; after all, the Captain can merely order the truth out from him. And so: "Lieutenant Komnenos was complaining about his assignment in Sickbay," says Timon. "Perhaps too bitterly, I should say. But if Dr. Solminihac here is okay with it, I am as well." Yeah, he could actually pronounce the man's name all along. Who knew?

Thea looks between the two men for a moment, then nods to Sol. "If you both say it's nothing, then I'll leave it alone," she says quietly. "To be honest, I expected more than a few bitter complaints." There's something in her eyes, though. Perhaps she let it go -too- easily? "Mmmmm. I wonder when the next Dance is."

Solminihac keeps any reaction to all that cleanly off his face. Admirable, really. He does, though, give a slight nod at Timon's handling of his obscure name. Or maybe at the man's volunteering of the facts. Who knows. To Thea then he says, "Is there someone named Hayley in your squadron? Maybe not Hayley…Hale? Someone said a pilot was trying to start a pyramid league or something like that."

"Dance?" Timon sees the look in his Captain's eyes and makes himself more comfortable in his seat. He has a feeling he'll be here for some time, should the Captain decide to inquire at length about the issue when the Doctor leaves. For the moment, though, he adopts a placid expression, looking idly at his cane.

"Fight night," Thea tells Ivory with a wry little grin. Then, at the mention of Hale's name, her attention pings back to the doctor. "Lieutenant Abraham Hale, Viper Squadron," she supplies, nodding. "I've heard the same rumors. If I'm not mistaken, he was talking about getting the civilians involved as well."

Solminihac lifts his chin, scratching the right side of his jaw. "We could use it down there." The 'we' slips out unnoticed. Or maybe it is noticed, as he self-corrects. "Aside from the morale it's just plain good exercise, something not many of them are getting enough of. Keeping the body healthy does wonders for stress."

"I don't dance," Timon avers. "But boxing. Well. That's better than what I thought you meant, though I don't do that, either." As for the Pyramid game, his thoughts on that activity are well known. "Anything I can do to help down there?" is what he does say. "Teach a few classes, maybe. Or hold roundtables for them, at which the attendnace of a certain unnamed Quorum delegate will be made mandatory."

There's a very quiet clearing of a Captain's throat, one which turns into a brief cough. "The etiquette class will be for Raptors only," Thea murmurs quietly. "If you were to lecture the civilians, I dare say there'd be a defenestration misshap." She's smiling a bit though. "I'd suggest you both chat with Lieutenant Hale about his idea for Pyramid. It might be worth pursuing…actually, it IS worth pursuing."

Solminihac nods slightly to Timon and can't help a faint smirk. "Really think she'd show?" His tone guesses no. "They might like classes…I couldn't say outside of medical; I've got no authority on the rest. What do you teach, though, out of sheer curiosity?" A nod to Thea. "I'll see if I can find this Hale."

"Oh. Really." Timon looks a bit surprised. "I was told that — " He stops abruptly, gears churning as he figures out a good way to rephrase what he's about to say to cover for his ECO. What a good friend. "I must have misunderstood," is what he comes up with. "Still, Doctor, the offer stands. Political philosophy, mostly, but we're trained to say a lot about things we know nothing about." See: aneurysm. "Worst case — " And here, the man smiles tightly. " — they unify against me, boosting everybody's morale when they manage to throw me out of an airlock."

Thea tilts her head to watch the two men for a moment, attention focusing on Timon just a bit longer than Sol. Ahhhh, given her expression, she's feeling a touch out of the loop, somewhere.

The beginning of what the raptor pilot was saying makes Solminihac's brow tic up. Slight confusion there too, but it glides past. "Right. Philosophy. Well, you're a raptor pilot. Bribe someone to park outside the airlock just in case they have to fetch you out of the vacuum, and you're covered. No harm, no fouls."

"Captain, how about it?" Only then he note everybody's confusion. That's what happens when one person talks to two different people about three different things. "I went to see somebody to get my sling replaced," Timon explains for Legacy's benefit, raising his left hand — thankfully, he's graduated to a wrist brace, which allows him far more mobility than he used to have. Any references she doesn't get probably came from that initial meeting.

That just seems to confuse Thea even more, the part about the sling. "I…think the conversation took a left turn somewhere," she says with a quiet laugh. "I'm fine if you want to teach, Ivory. Just make sure it's what the civilians want to sit and listen to. I'd suggest, perhaps, something like a book group, to start. And no, I'm not having a Raptor sitting outside in case you get tossed. If you're dumb enough to get tossed, well, you're getting left."

Solminihac seems similarly bewildered by the tracks the conversation just veered onto. Buh? He hears Thea and starts laughing under his breath, though quickly controls it with a throat clearing. "How is that wrist doing anyway, Ivory? Those clicks in the bone come back, or have they been behaving themselves since this morning?"

Timon's propensity for causing these left turns is the reason why he'll never get promoted. His solution? Talk more. "Whatever happened to leave no man behind?" Then, like a rapier flash: "That was going to be Section Four of my presentation." His shoulders tense as he speaks; these days, he really has no idea what will set his CO off. "Anyway, my plan wasn't to mandate participation. I've taught enough unwilling undergraduates in intro classes to know how bad an idea that is. And 'plan' is really the wrong word. Too definitive. Chances are this won't even get off the ground." As for the doctor, he merely flips his hand up, then down, then up again. No clicking.

Poor Thea looks utterly baffled. A lot of that, likely, can be put down to the past two weeks that she's had, lack of sleep, and worry about ill pilots. She simply looks between the two men and keeps her mouth shut, listening - for now.

Solminihac gives the wrist an approving look. A moment passes where he glances between the two raptor squadronites, realising there's some triangle fo confusion going on here. "What were sections one through three?" He dares ask the other man.

Timon looks confused as well, though his problem is merely that he has very little idea as to why everybody else looks confused. All of this can't possibly be due to him, can it? Aloud, though: "One — ranks. What are they, and what are they for? Two — flight deck safety. Why should one listen to those enlisted people in orange uniforms? Three — fraternization. That's not my field."

"Mmmm," Thea says after a bit, wiping her nose with the tissue again. She seems a little annoyed at the tissue. "This is part of your presentation to the civilians," the woman asks Timon, quietly.

The tissue draws Solminihac's attention that way. But he's a doctor, forgive him. At Thea's question he looks back at Timon.

Timon answers Legacy with a shake of his head. "For them, I'm thinking we start by discussing the pros and cons of civil disobedience." That's probably a joke, but there's no doubt that, if pressed, he could — and would.

Thea blinks at Timon for a moment then grins, shaking her head slightly. "I think we've found you a good light-duty assignment," she teases - and yes, it's clear she's kidding. "I think even if you just go down to talk with the civilians, they'd feel a little better."

Solminihac smirks at this exchange, albeit briefly. "You're welcome to come down with me sometime if you want, Ivory. I'm a pretty good human shield, if you duck a couple inches."

"If all they've been hearing are the barks of our resident Marines, Black, maybe so." He's relaxed enough to abbreviate the woman's callsign once more. Why does Ivory do it? Habit; or maybe he just really loves dualities. "Anyway, I should be going." Eyes drift over to his blinking wristwatch before they cast a loving, longing gaze on the book on his lap. "Shower, sleep, and then I get to do all of this again in the morning." Be proud, Captain; he's allowing himself a good eight hours of rest. "Thanks for the conversation, Captain, Doctor." Timon reaches for his cane, pushing himself to his feet. "And I might just take you up on that offer. You can take the man out of the ivory tower, as they say; you can't take the ivory tower out of the man." And with that, he stumps off, the double-entendre only revealing itself to him after the hatch is opened and shut.

Thea watches Timon leave, just shaking her head slightly, a small smile on her lips, lines of worry on her forehead. "He pushes himself too hard," she comments, mostly to herself. "Way too hard." But then it's shaken off and she turns back to the doctor. "Was it me, or was there a left turn in that conversation that came out of nowhere?"

"Think it's called 'diversionary tactics' or some shit," Solminihac replies, blithely. "I don't know. He's your charge, not mine." He grins.

"Gee, thanks," Thea says, crinkling her nose at Sol and pulling all of her attention back to him. "Quite a help you are. Please don't hesitate to let me know if he, or any of my other pilots, give you trouble in the Sickbay. They all know better and know that I'll kick their tails into next week if they do."

Solminihac snickers quietly and nods. "I will, but I doubt it'll be a problem. I mean hell, I've barely met Pike and I know enough to start sniffing for the brimstone if anyone acts up in there."

Legacy laughs softly and nods, once. "I know. But I try to instill a respect for -all- doctors in my people, all officers - not just department heads. Ari…the Major, is a hell of an officer."

Solminihac nods to that. "So I can feel. Never got close to any Majors last time I went through the grind. They were always the Powers That Be that we all groused about while we cleaned our guns. Captains too, I have to be honest." He grins slightly at her. "Funny how things change. Kind of." Not all the way.

"But of course," Thea says, dipping her head. "I mean, Captains are where the evil starts, right? I know *I* tend to avoid them like the plague." She flashes him a grin, one which, had she not been looking so tired, would have likely been a lot brighter. As it is, she opens her mouth to say something else and just -barely- manages to catch the sneeze with her hand. "Oh, bloody hell," she mutters darkly.

Solminihac gives her a sympathetic look, but there's something assessing about his gray eyes too. "Throat feeling scratchy?" He asks, with an indicative glance to her water glass.

She blinks at him for a moment, then nods. "A little bit. It's not really sore, but I feel like there's a hair or something stuck in the back." Lips purse slightly. "It's probably just a stress reaction."

"Sounds like a cold coming on," Solminihac digs in his pocket for a handkerchief, holding it out open in his palm. "Going to sound gross, I know, but give me your tissues?"

Her nose wrinkles up and she looks from him to the tissue then back to him again, with a very much 'are you serious' look on her face. Then, with obvious hesitation, she holds out the neatly folded square.

Solminihac gives her a crooked grin. "I know, I know." He folds up the tissues in the hanky, making a little ball of biohazard. "I'd just rather be safe. Closed ventilation and all, it can get pretty nasty if we're not ready for something going around."

Legacy eyes him, eyes the tissue, then just shakes her head. "Doctors," she murmurs. "Of course, I know that you all probably say the same thing about pilots, most days. Especially given that we're usually coming in with bullets or shrapnel in us somewhere."

"Marines are worse," Solminihac tells her, gravely. "In the bullet department. Whiners though, I have to say logistics. Ever seen an accountant with a paper cut? Man."

"Wait til you see a pilot with a bullet in her ass," Thea says wryly. "That hurt more than the shrapnel between my ribs and more than this shoulder wound." She grins, though, and jingles her tags - and the bullet behind them. "I have to get my shoulder bullet from Sergeant Elder."

Solminihac taps his lip, and the nasty scar that slackens the upper one a little bit. "Some people collect their bullets. This one, I have to thank the gods didn't lodge, or I'd be in a shitload of trouble."

"How'd you get it," she asks, voice quiet, curious. Now he's piqued her interest.

"Crossfire," Solminihac replies, tucking the bundle of handkerchief-surrounded snot away. "I was a combat medic once upon a time. It's how I know very intimately what pains in the ass marines can be."

Legacy laughs softly at that and dips her head. "Glad it didn't hit anywhere worse than that," she says with a quiet sigh. "And for all they can be pains in the ass, it's good to have them around when the you know what hits the fan."

"Can say that again," Solminihac mutters, nodding. "I've had enough of guns. But what's this you were talking about…fight night?"

The Captain shifts in her seat, finally, curling herself up a little tighter, pushing the files aside. Apparently she's going to live up to her call sign, at least in part. "It's more like a fight night," she explains, brushing a hand over her shoulder absently. "Where all issues get settled in the ring. You bring the issue in, you fight it out with someone, and you both walk away after. Both parties win, both parties lose, and the issue gets left in the ring, where it belongs."

"Well, I don't have any issues. Yet." Solminihac tacks that on there, acknowledgingly. "But I'lll take any good match I can before I get too old and slow to put someone down."

Legacy laughs quietly and nods, tucking her hair behind her ear as she settles in, legs curled beside her. "I got lucky in my last bout. The old man I was fighting was old and infirm, so I kicked his ass. Of course, he was still smarting from an earlier fight." The smile turns a little sad as she glances down at her hands briefly. "So, we've covered the civvies, Major Pike and fight night. Favorite reading material?"

Solminihac gives a burst of a laugh that crinkles the corners of his otherwise deceptively youthful eyes. "Why don't you try and guess, that'll make it more fun. I'll even stick my neck out. I'll guess yours is…pulp adventure novels?"

She considers him for a long moment, then grins. "Afraid not. Romance novels," she admits, cheeks going a little pink. "And I'd have to say medical journals or westerns, for the fiction."

"Damn. I was going to say that, but women always get so pissed when you guess that first." Solminihac folds his hands behind his head again and grins. "But you're wrong too, so I can forgive myself. Horror, actually. I know, it's juvenile."

A brow arches delicately at that and she tilts her head to the side. "Horror. Now there's an interesting genre," she says quietly. "I've only read a few, some of the better known ones, I'm afraid. Who's your favorite?"

"Basel Deichman," Solminihac offers the name, not expecting her to know it. "Tauron author, about a hundred years ago or…something like that. Not one of the most popular, but it's no fault of his. I'd ask who your favourite romance writer was, but believe me there's no hope I'd recognise them."

"Tracy Madison," Thea answers immediately. "Her books are popcorn reading, quite relaxing." She grins, then sneezes again. "Very light hearted."

"Bless you." Again, automatic. Solminihac keeps his hands behind his head as he stretches his shoulders back. "Lighthearted romance." He smirks a little at that. "Pipe dream right there."

Thea starts to say something, but then is caught by a jaw-cracking yawn. "Oh, good grief," she murmurs. "Sorry about that, Doc. I think it's time for me to wander rackward before my Riders catch wind of this."

"Yeah, I've got a few appointments coming," Solminihac glances at his watch and rolls to his feet. "Speaking of which. Oh nine hundred, I'll see you there."

Thea nods and slides to her feet, gathering the folders. "I'll be there, likely with bells on after an early morning CAP. Nothing like staring down a few raiders to get the blood flowing." Her smile is crooked. "Have a good evening. I enjoyed getting to sit and chat."

Solminihac gives her a two-fingered salute and lets her go first out the hatch before following. "Have a good one."

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