Hope Is A Good Thing Maybe The Best Of Things
Hope is a Good Thing Maybe the Best of Things
Summary: Two Captains make a visit to the brig and one Conspiracy Theorist Meets Another
Date: PHD102 (29 July 2009)
Related Logs: None

Castor Leda is currently asleep in his bunk in the brig if you can call it much of a bunk. It is odd though because it is so much quieter than the pilot berthings. He is currently resting on his side so that he can face the door, this way if people come for him hopefully he will wake up and see what is coming for it before it is to late. Though for now he is sleeping quietly, looking a bit like a babe, well, a babe who was found with enough G-4 in his locker to blow up the Red Squads berthings.

The door opens quietly and Thea slips in in her off-duties. She's still got one arm in a sling, of course, and bandages on her hands. To say that she looks like shit is an understatement. While there's no sign of tears now, her eyes are puffy and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. Her nose is almost Rudolph red. Yet there's still an air of professionalism about her. The door closes very quietly behind her and she leans back against it for a time, just watching Leda sleep, expression inscruitable.

Leda's fingers begin to twitch slightly and he takes a breath and sits up suddenly, his eyes scan the room for a moment before he asks, "Captain are you really here or is this another nightmare?" he then begins wipping his eyes and then his forhead as if to get all of the sweat out. He studies Legacy as if to make sure everything is…oh no, wait, the nose is off. He then says, "And if this is a nightmare what kind of monsters have you been fighting?" He seems a bit confused but his sleep hasn't been the greatest, however he has taken Ariadne's advice to start working out like a fiend and it has helped him sleep a little better.

"Well, I've had a lot of support from a lot of good people, sir. So, I'm holding up probably a little better than should be." He then notices the voice and his tones change from this is a friendly visit to Castor slipping into his typically concerned for others mode, "Sir, if you don't mind my saying so you look and sound rough. He stands up out of the bed and is simply wearing his off duty clothes the same clothes he has been wearing for a while, well, there have been changes but this is it for him in here for now. "I mean you sound rough and I know things have been hard on you recently, sir." Yup, all of that stuff about the bomb is out of his head for now. This is the closest anyone has gotten to him beyond Steele and Epi, so, but he has no shiv or any other weapon unless pocket lint can somehow be used with deadly force.

Thea wraps her free hand around one of the bars and leans forward, forehead resting in the gap between the steel. For a time, she just watches Castor, studying him. "Torch is dead," she says after a moment, voice low and quiet. "She's gone. I'm sorry, Leda. I'm so, so sorry." Her throat works for a moment. "I don't know if anyone came down to tell you."

Leda's eyes go wide and he gives a th' frak look but he picks up on Thea's voice and the way she is speaking and he says, "Do we know who did it, sir?" He asks because he hasn't seen anyone come into the brig as of late and this leaves him with the option that the killer is at large or the other option of the killer being dead, "And how did it happen, sir?" He asks with pained but grateful tones because he might not have gotten this news otherwise.

Thea's quiet for a moment or two then nods, once. "I've only heard preliminary reports," she says quietly. "Rumors. Apparently one of the Marines may have had some serious mental issues. It was in Sickbay. He's dead as well." Short and succinct - that's what they pay the Captains for, isn't it? "But it's over now. She's not in pain anymore. She's not suffering anymore." Words that Thea's likely repeated to herself the whole night and has yet to believe. "I just…wanted you to know, since you're part of the family."

Leda nods his head and begins to walk toward Legacy seeing as how she is in the brig with him right now to offer a hug, this may or may not set the guards out side on edge but at this moment he doesn't care. He does say, "Captain, I'm so sorry to hear about this and I'm sorry to hear that one of our Marines was lost." He then says, "And she isn't in pain or suffering anymore." He then says quietly and reassuringly, "No one suffers in death." He then says, "And thank you for telling me and reminding me that I'm family because I need your support right now and I will give you all the support I can." His tones become as smooth and as calming as he can make them, he doesn't like Torch being dead but he can't help the dead.

Legacy is on one side of the bars, Leda on the other, so the hug is awkward at best - but she attempts the physical contact. "You're part of the family, Leda. No matter what happened." She watches him, silent again. "In my heart, I don't think you did anything wrong, Leda," she murmurs softly. One hand goes up. "I don't want to know if you did. I don't think I could take it right now. Just…know that you're missed and we're looking forward to having you back." It's not quite unconditional support - the woman is clearly a touch conflicted. How could she not be? A Marine just killed her best friend. So of course it stands to reason that a pilot could lose his mind and attempt to kill the rest of his fellow pilots.

The hug is awkward and the guards do watch but Leda leans back and he says, "I didn't do anything wrong, sir, because I would never harm a pilot much less a human being." He shakes his head, "I'm innocent in all of this." He then smiles, "And we are family and I need you understand that I would never hurt you intentionally, sir." He then looks at Legacy for a moment before he leans closely to say very quietly, "Sir, I think the cylons may have hired someone on the ship to frak around with us all. So, please, believe me when I say I would never intentionally harm someone." He then leans back as he asks in still but soft and supportive tones, "How are you holding up now that Torch is gone?"

Thea nods slowly at him. She didn't want to hear it, she was trying to forestall it. But there it was, right in front of her. "I…Gods, Leda," she whispers quietly. "I can't even process all of that right now. Let's just get you cleared and back on duty. Captain Marek can't afford to have any more pilots off the line. We're short as it is." Like he doesn't know that already. She steps back after a moment. "Do you need anything?"

Castor gives a smile to Legacy, "Me? I'll be okay, I just need a stiff drink and the truth to come out about who set me up, sir." He then shakes his head, "But, sir, if you need anything from me I will be here until they let me out." His language is changing from when he first got in because earlier it was all, 'if' I get out but at this moment it is 'until they let me out' maybe he is attempting to be strong in front of the Captain because he is about to have a breakdown about Torch's death, maybe he is just trying to comfort Thea, or maybe people have been supporting him and he is finding strength to carry on.

She reaches through the bars again, touching his arm lightly. "I don't think they'll let me stay much longer. But we'll find out who did this and get you set free. If I hear any more news, I'll slip in to see you, if I can." Yep, she's worried about him. It's visible in her eyes.

Well, the worry in her eyes is a bit of a hit to Leda which means he will be working out until he falls asleep again, "Aye sir." He says as he trying to be strong and as the arm touches him he clearly looks like their is still a big weight on him, one he is fighting, but to see the Captain worried about him, it is almost like seeing the look of pity in Captain Marek's eyes. "Good hunting, sir."

Thea laughs softly and lifts her bandaged arm. "For a little while, I'm flying a desk," she says quietly. "But thank you, Tinleg." She straightens and offers him a bit of a smile. "So, if I smuggle you in some protein bars, any chance you could find me a good sundress somewhere?" It's definitely a tease, trying to lighten the mood.

Castor grins as he looks around the brig, "Well, just between you and me I might be able to work out a trade, I think the Private over there." He thumbs softly over to a large male marine and he quickly adds, "Don't look." He says for emphasis, "Anyway, he might have a sundress for trade." Yeah, humor is what this moment needs and as he notes the arm he says, "As for flying a desk that might be okay for a while, who knows, maybe you can take it out on some Ensigns and have them do all of your paperwork."

Thea heaves a sigh and no, doesn't look at the Marine. "I'm already doing that with Lieutenant Komnenos," she says with a grin. "Of course, he's back in the air now, so I can only grab him for so long. That might be excellent punishment duty, though - paperwork." She shudders. Oh, she shudders.

Castor grins a little as he says, "Well, I was thinking of getting a whole army of ensigns and telling them to file all the paperwork so that you can get a mohito and enjoy yourself and if they don't you can get out the whip or even better, threaten to ground them." He then looks back at the Marine for a moment to wave. The Marine is simply watching Leda and Castor turns back to Thea, "Yeah, he has a sundress, a nice thin one for the summer." If Leda is teasing or not it is hard to say but given the context he probably is, right, right?

"Mmmmm," Thea murmurs quietly. "I want that sundress. Especially if it's in my size." She pauses, considering. "I could always take it in if it's too big." She flashes another smile at the man then offers her hand again. "Get some rest, try not to sweat things too much. I'll see if Poet has some puzzles he can send down."

"Well, I'll see what I can do about the dress but the owner doesn't really seem like the type to give it up, sir." He then takes another smile, well, this is much better than the look he got earlier as he says, "And I will try to go back to sleep." Emphasis on try but most likely it will be work out some more so that he can rest but then again maybe he can sleep. He then looks back giving a supportive smile, "You get some rest too, sir. Please."

She watches him for a moment then dips her head and turns to slip back out the way she came.

<A Little While Later>

Earlier Castor was sleeping, but he also had a visit from Captain Legacy and now things have him on the worried edge again which means he is working out, right now this means pushups in the brig. He has been at it for only a short period of time though because he isn't all sweaty, just yet. The Marines in the room are standing guard over him as they keep their long watch to make sure Leda isn't going to do, well, anything.

At some point in the midst of those pushups, the hatch grinds open again, and voices are heard in the corridor. Then footfalls, a heavy thud of combat boots approaching. The CAG soon appears on the other side of the glass, in his offduty fatigues with the jacket left open and his hands buried in the trouser pockets. He comes to a halt a few feet away from the enclosure, and just watches Castor silently.

Leda looks up at the glass when he hears the tap and he is happy to see it isn't a Marine telling him to stop what he is doing. He then begins to move toward the phone as he picks it up, waiting to see what Papabear will have to say. He is fairly sure that there is no good news but he is also fairly sure that there is no bad news so hopefully this is just a regular visit.

Kai hesitates for a moment, and then reaches for the receiver as well. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he looks like he hasn't slept properly in days. "How're they treating you in here?" is the first thing he asks into the 'phone', tucking it in between his shoulder and ear as he moves to lean against the enclosure.

"I'm okay, sir. The service is nice but I find the menu lacking." He offers as a joke as he studies Kai's eyes, another tired Captain, which leads Castor to believe things really are going to hell in a handbasket outside of the brig. If Kai has been keeping tabs Castor has had a string of visitors, he is eating his meals, exercising in the brig like a fiend, and in general not being a problem. Marine reports will say that Castor hasn't had another freak out moment and he has regularly been seen laughing with people, though they have also reported some tension in the man from time to time. He then says, "Sorry to hear about Torch, sir." He doesn't know how best to approach the topic so he sort of puts it out there.

Kai has almost certainly been keeping tabs, though he doesn't speak of it directly. There's a slight crinkling at the corners of his eyes, when the menu's mentioned. "I heard a rumour that the cook was making pancakes this morning. I'll see if I can sneak a few in to you." The bridge of his nose is scratched absently with his thumbnail, gaze flickering away when Torch is mentioned. "She's in the gods' hands, now." His throat briefly works, but there's no other indication of emotion on his face. None at all. "I'm going to be speaking with the chaplain's assistant, about a service soon. After you're out of here."

Castor processes the thought, pancakes, syrup, sugar - something other than the blandest food the Kharon has to offer this causes the man to close his eyes as he gives a short but thankful prayer to whatever crazy thing he believes in because Papabear has pulled through for him again. He doesn't talk about Torch but he does add, "Sir, I think that Captain Legacy has been hurt by this fairly badly. It is just a feeling I have after talkng to her." He then says, "Any word on when that might be, sir, getting out I mean. I know it has been rough around here and I'm sure JAG is busy beyond belief but I couldn't have done it sir."

"I know. I believe you." The conviction in Kai's voice is firm and unshakeable. His blue eyes stay on Castor throughout, despite the lethargy evident in his frame where he leans against the glass. "I'm going to be lighting a few fires under the Commander's ass, to get this case pushed ahead as quickly as possible. We've lost our S2 as well, who would've been the one coming to see you. I'll also be talking with the MaA, to see whether there's anything I can do to help with his investigation." He nods slightly when Legacy's mentioned. "Danika was a friend of hers. I'll have a rew words with her."

Castor looks at Kai for a moment and he says, "Thank you, sir." Well one Captain to push Castor into a pit of worry and another Captain to push Castor back into balance. He then says, "Sir, I have a theory. Nothing I can prove but I think that the cylons might be employing someone on this ship. Maybe it is blackmail, I don't know, but why would a bomb be in my locker and why would any human turn on another." He frowns, "It is just a theory, sir, and it is something I have been thinking about because there isn't much else to do in here but it might explain some of the weirdness going on around here." He then sounds suprised to hear the name Danika as he says, "I think the Captain would appreciate that, sir."

Kai shakes his head slightly, expression turning briefly troubled as Castor speaks. Just a flicker of tension between his brows and along the line of his jaw, that doesn't quite fade. "It's a little too early to start hypothesising about that. Let the military police do their jobs, Leda. I have faith in our men and women." Whether that faith has been shaken, lately, he doesn't let on one way or another.

The nice thing about being in the brig is that he hasn't seen how bad it is on the outside, to him he just gets news from word of mouth so he isn't as shaken as others would be about a lot of this, but then again, he has had a lot of time to come to peace with things. He finally says, "Sir, you look a little rough, how are you holding up?" He asks in his normal concerned for everyone else, well, and especially concerned for Papabear because if Papabear isn't doing well then everyone is pretty screwed.

Kai chuckles softly into the phone. His voice sounds a little hoarse, like he's been either crying or shouting at someone. Maybe both. You know, assuming the CAG is capable of crying. "I'm holding up fine, Tinman." He studies the other pilot for a few seconds, then cuts his eyes to his watch. "I'll let you get back to your PT. Chin up, and be good. Play your cards right, and you'll be out in time for fight night. I expect you to uphold the fine air wing tradition of getting your ass handed to you, Leda."

Slipping into the brig, past the MPs, the security checkpoint after he is cleared is the sheer unadulterated mass of bleary-eyed fatigue that is Wil. His flightsuit is pulled to his waist, the sleeves hastily secured in a messy knot. His face is pale and drawn and his hair tousled. Upon seeing both Leda and Kai his eyelids raise ever-so-slightly and his lips purse in a tense, explosive manner as if he's ready to flat-out burst into some sort of tirade. He doesn't, actually. But he looks like he -wants- to.

"Good to see you are holding up fine, sir." He says now wondering who was getting yelled at but for right now he lets off a laugh, "Sir, if I get out for fight night I'll try my best to hold on long enough not to make the wing look like we are full of little bitches." He then pauses as he says into the phone, "Thank you, sir." His words have a certain sense of gravity as the nice thing about getting thrown into the brig is to learn about all of the people who take time out to come and visit. He then looks up at Wil enters with his flight suit on and then grins as another visitor has come to see him, well, it could be Kai but Castor will hope he is the one Wil wants to see so Kai can rest.

Kai flashes Castor a rare grin in return, dimples and fine lines and all. "Deal," he offers brusquely into the phone, then raps it once against the glass in 'farewell' before hanging up. Willem doesn't receive a greeting, so much as a clap on the shoulder as the Captain passes by. The marines posted at the door are already getting a bit antsy at having multiple people in here, and people in full combat gear packing assault rifles, are not people one wants to piss off.

"Sir." Willem finally begins after he opens his mouth and whatever verbal diarrhea he was about to spew goes out the window. Checked by the CAG, yo. Oh, and a salute that is surprisingly spry when one considers that he basically looks like sleep-deprived, um, as they say on Leonis, 'shite.' He watches Kai with a calm glance and then his shoulders shrug a little, focusing on Castor now. "Tin." He starts, tenatively, nodding at the Man in Hack(tm)

Willem's salute is returned just as crisply, mid-stride, and then the hatch grinds open and Marek's gone. Exit stage left.

Wil is left here, just glancing at the cell for a moment with a slight parting of his lips. Finally, he reaches for the phone. "That's one way to get some sleep, I guess." He notes, glumly. "Wanted to see how you were holding up, Tin."

For his part Castor might be the only person on this ship who looks well rested and ready for war, then again, he has been cooling in the brig for a while and he has had a lot of support from everyone. He finally says, "I've been up and I've been down but for right now, I'm okay." He says, "Though I've heard some crazy stuff went down last night, do you know anything about what happened?" He asks curiously, it would seem that even Jailbirds know about Vendas.

"I couldn't get past the Marines." There may be a slighter, quieter voicing of 'As Usual. Mud couldn't be bothered to go with me so my 'nosy JiG' credentials only got me -so far-." Willem begins to note, sourly into the phone. "I can tell you this much. It's -frakked-. It's completely -frakked- and in light of this I think someone's going to note that you were very obviously not culpable in all this."

Castor seems to sigh a bit, well, between Kai lighting fires and Willem's news this may not be so bad after all. "I heard on the coms that the MPs were called to the Sick Bay and I know that Vendas is dead as well as the Marine XO did it." And that it would seem is all that he knows, "So, you think the XO set me up or we got lucky?"

"Don't forget. I was talking to Moon yesterday and she said she might. MIGHT have felt something behind her when she fell. Still, head blows are what they are." Whatever disclaimer he lays out here, he seems to be the suspicious type.

Castor says into the phone, "So, someone hit her instead of her walking into a ship in the dark like we thought?" He takes this new information into his head as he simply processes it, "Well, it does sound suspicious but is it the XO or were there others?" Castor for his type seems to be deeply suspicious but he has theories, which he won't share with Wil yet, because he doesn't want to cause any fear or confusion. "Well, at least we have a picture of what might have happened." He then smiles, "Wow, that is some good detective work, Rebound." He says in impressed tones because if it helps Castor get out of here it is a good thing.

"She had a lighter. Small. Stupid. But it was enough." Wil lowers his voice now as his arm falls to his side, foot tapping as he glances over at the hatch and then back at Castor. "It's not detective work. Just asking questions, putting things together. I can't for the life of me figure out -why- or -how- this would have happened though and that is the worst part of it all."

"Patience is rewarded." He says softly almost as if to know one and then he looks back at Wil, "See that is the part I can't figure out, I mean, I've got this theory." He offers quietly into the phone, "But it is only a theory so don't go spreading it around but, what if the cylons were blackmailing a human or using a human on this ship or hell what if they bought out a human on this ship and had them doing things for them?"

"Is it? I'm not sure what's rewarded. Only - what's punished." Wil notes with a touch of his usual cosmic pessimism. Although, one can note there's a small crack in it as his lips flicker a little. "What kind of blackmail, though? What could they possibly want with us? One. Last. Ship. I can't imagine Drarelle…" He knew the man. Hell, he sort of liked the man. Which makes this that much more odd. "Now Torch is gone. For good. Pilots aren't supposed to die on the ground."

Castor shakes his head, "Something the Padre told me and maybe I was the one to be punished but ultimately my patience might set me free." He then shrugs, these days it would appear that Leda is starting to be more spiritual, spiritual what, he couldn't say, but spiritual none the less. "And what kind of blackmail? We found people on Scorpia, maybe they found one of the crew members families or maybe they have some sort of information that would lead us to jail the person, or maybe they just bought a human being out by promising not to kill them." He then thinks about Drarelle, "Who knows, it is just a theory." He then thinks about Vendas, "And yeah, pilots aren't supposed to die on the ground. That is not right either."

"Oh. There's a new one?" Wil's mouth opens however slightly and he exhales into the phone. "I don't know -what- I believe. What I -do- know, though, is…" He simply closes his eyes and mulls the implications of Castor's words, quietly. "The universe is a terrible place. But it's sometimes wonderful. I think the wonderful things either offset the terror or give us a little respite from the underlying indifference the stars have for our dying race." He cups his fingers to his chin and, well, sometimes he has this habit of accidentally narrating verse that just hasn't been published yet. This is one of those times.

"What if there were other survivors? What would we do to convince ourselves we were keeping them safe? Are you saying this is all a -game-? Because frankly, if the Cylons knew where we were they could crush this -one- ship like a frakking gnat."

Leda looks at Wil as he speaks, he does enjoy it when Willem takes on his more intellectual moments and so he simply listens and then after a time he says, "I think we should keep them safe. We should bring them here or gather them up and run away so the human race can live. We have no idea how many cylons are waiting for us out there and we have no idea how strong they are and this is not a game this is a question of survival and one little ship won't have the genetic material it takes to keep the human race running even if the Kharon cut and run right now. We need to gather the survivors because it is the right thing to do." He says in quiet, but steadfast tones, "Even if command disagrees with me on that."

"We need to divert our efforts into finding another ship, then. Something…bigger." Wil indicates, with a gesture towards the cramped bulkheads. He's gesturing towards the brig, sure, but the ship itself isn't much more spacious. "If we've resorted to whacking each other at -this- stage of the game, I'm not even sure if we -deserve- to survive."

"Well, then it all boils down to that…do we deserve to survive?" He says into the phone, "I know I deserve to survive." He then chuckles softly, "But my point is I'm afraid we have an enemy among us that is us and is being used by the metal to harm us from the inside." He then takes a breath, "And all I can say is that this is a theory that comes from a feeling that I have deep down." He then looks around at the ship, "And yeah, we need something bigger. Truth be told we need several somethings bigger. Maybe even a fleet. Get the survivors out and run like hell as we hope the cylons don't find us so we can set up and have lots of babies."

"What the -hell- is wrong with you?" Wil's suddenly curt a moment, holding the phone aloft and narrowing his eyes. "You're fixated on this 'having babies' tear and I can't, for the life of me, wrap my mind around the sheer, enormous -horror- of the concept of bringing a child into this world."

He shakes his head a little bit. "I'm sorry, Tin." He amends, hastily. "I didn't come down here to argue with you. I just can't imagine something like that. I don't know if 'continuing the human race' is our destiny."

"Willem, that isn't what I mean…I'm just…" He takes a breath, "Yeah, sorry man, I'll back off. I mean it has been a bit stressfull down here wondering if evidence will show up that proves I didn't do anything and so I had to put my mind on something other than, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die and so it went to conspiracy theory and babies." He then says, "And yeah, you know what I don't know what our destiny is but I want to see what happens." He takes a second to look back at Willem, "My point is Rebound, I don't have all of the answers and maybe that is a good thing because right now Command agrees with you and not with me and I would never call them on that. So, I guess I just needed to rant about something to let some stress out, you know?"

"You got me. I voice an opinion, I get told to shut the frak up and back the frak down, so I go poking around and try to make sense of what's essentially a puzzle. Explosives go missing, there's a fire, they find more in -your- locker," He ticks off all the events of the past couple days with a grimace, "You end up in hack, Mooner has a 'mysterious' accident," He gestures with the phone, "there's a…'system failure' throughout the Kharon's vitals, Lt. Leodus goes apeshit and starts shooting in sickbay. -Sickbay-, Tin." He's apparently doing his own ranting himself. "All the while, people look at folks like you. Folks like me. Like we're conspiracy theorists. Loons. 'Bout the only ones who were willing to sit down and listen to my thoughts besides Mooner were Case and Lieutenant Matto. And Persephone." He blinks, calmly. "We're not able to hold down a wedge of common sense, ourselves. I just feel like Cassandra."

Leda listens to Willem speak and he listens to his friend rant, because sometimes to people need to rant on both sides and Willem finishes he says, "Maybe you are a prophet Wil, but maybe you are just starting your time as a prophet but I will always listen to you." He offers supportively, "And I totally understand trying to make sense of all of this because this has been a clusterfrak and I still can't make heads or tails of it all but I will say that we are looking for meaning in desperate times which means that there is a heart in you, Rebound, a heart that is trying to understand things when others give up." He then looks at his phone cord for a moment, "And you've been keeping records of what we do." He considers all of this as he says, "I'm not a fan of the Lords but your journal may mean something someday."

"Now you're just being silly in an attempt to make -me- feel a little better about myself." Wil says, wrly, clutching the phone. "It was supposed to be the other way around. I'm only doing any of this because I took an oath as an Officer. And I have a few things I take seriously.

"'Sacred texts' are only sacred because of time. Nothing else."

Leda considers all of this before he says, "Yeah, maybe, but these days it is beginning to tell up from down and left from right, I mean if the Marine XO flips and the former CAG dies then all bets are off." He then looks at Wil, "And you are helping me right now, trust me. It is good to have people to talk to." He chuckles, "And so if you came to see me as an officer I thank you and if you came to see me as a friend I thank you. Though if nothing else we are having an interesting dialogue about possibilities and that hints at future of some kind and that means hope for both of us, right?"

"I think it means neither of us have cracked yet, Tin." Wil claims, his arm crossed in front of his chest. There's a small smile, but it's there. "It's the little things that drive you to the edge right now. Y'know, they've closed down our berthings since they found that…contraband. You have no idea how much I miss my locker."

Wil's little shrine to a life before the Kharon, before the attack, it's all denied him now. And he's a tad pissed. "I kind of miss having an extra set of clean clothes too." Ok, clean drawers, too.

Leda looks at Willem for a moment through the glass as he says, "You gotta be frakking kidding me, the closed the berthigns? Then where have you guys been sleeping?" He asks as he says, "And even I get clean clothes down here." He then takes a second to mull over all of this, "Haven't they searched every locker already? Are they worried about another attack?" This new bit of information has caused him to ask a lot more questions because this was completely unexpected in his little world.

"They rehomed the Viper sticks to Black Squadron. For the time being." Willem notes, distantly. "I popped in there a couple times just to relax and steal some tea from Black Cat and Cookies. Strange place." His nose twitches. "I think they still have a few empty bunks but some folks are doubling up. Apparently. That's par for the course."

His lips bend into a dry smile. "It was kind of 'em. Uh. Anyway," He brings his hand to his mouth and clears his throat. "Is there any explanation for ass-dragging and red tape? Ever? It's how it is."

There was a time when Castor was no stranger to the Black Squad berthings, "So, they are hot racking, huh?" He then says, "Wil, I'm so sorry this happened but sometimes patience is rewarded." He says again as he considers everything that has been going on. He then asks, "Is there an ETA on when everyone can go back to their bunks or is this mostly a raid on hooch?" The last part was probably a joke, probably.

"Hot racking. Something like that. I haven't really been there and haven't gotten anything beyond isolated glances at what's going on." Willem smirks gently and lets out another dry laugh. "ETA? We'll know when it happens, as always."

Castor takes a second to chuckle, "So, if you haven't been sleeping in the Black Squadron bunks, where have you been sleeping, ladykiller?" He asks curiously and a bit teasingly although in an untter friendly manner. He then considers the ETA and he says, "Hey maybe I will get out of here and it will be time to let us use our bunks again?" He says hopefully.

Wil's only response to this is a wordless shrug and an arced brow. "I would say I've been sleeping in the cargo bay behind a crate full of MRE's." He fights off a smirk. "I could say a lot of things. But hey, yeah. The bright side is, pretty soon they'll probably toss your ass out of here soon."

Castor chuckles and doesn't push forward with his questioning since he was just teasing a little, "Well, you might be safer behind a crate of MRE's these days." He then looks at the door that would lead him out of the brig and he says, "And yeah, the sooner they toss my ass out of here the better." He then takes a second to look at the clock, "But I think they are going to call visitation soon, Wil." He frowns, "Sorry, Rebound."

"Yeah. I'm burning a whole in the floor here." Wil snickers a little, tightly. "Stay safe in here, man. We'll figure it out. Time to get back to those MRE crates. They're good company." Waggling thin brows, he offers the other man a quiet, professional nod, through the glass. "Be seein' you, Tin."

Castor says over the phone another nod, "See you around, Rebound." He says as a play on words as he hangs up his phone and moves to his bunk.

Leda considers all of this before he says, "Yeah, maybe, but these days it is beginning to tell up from down and left from right, I mean if the Marine XO flips and the former CAG dies then all bets are off." He then looks at Wil, "And you are helping me right now, trust me. It is good to have people to talk to." He chuckles, "And so if you came to see me as an officer I thank you and if you came to see me as a friend I thank you. Though if nothing else we are having an interesting dialogue about possibilities and that hints at future of some kind and that means hope for both of us, right?"

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