Summary: Quiet night in the Raptor bunks. Jason and Legacy chat about the Fleet, and their respective dedication to it.
Date: MD054 (April 16)
Related Logs: None

[ Black Squadron Berthings - Deck 1 ]-----[ CEC Kharon ]—

IC Time: Mission Day #54 OOC Time: Thu Apr 16 20:56:06 2009

The hatch to this berthing has a top-down stencil of a Raptor covering the whole doorway with the tail of the aircraft at the bottom of the hatch. Opening in, this berthing has the trappings of many other Raptor squadrons through the fleet. The standard three-bunk layout adorns most of the walls, pictures and paintings covering the rest where nothing else required has been emplaced. There is a hatch in the back the moves to a private Head for these officers. That standard dark blue curtains hide each bunk from the common area to afford each pilot and ECO their own privacy. One varied addition to these quarters is a standard-issue green parachute draped from the top bunks of each of the three rows. Normally left rolled up, these can provide additional shade against the dull white light provided overhead. Meanwhile, the Raptor crews have a central wooden table done in a mahogany.

-=[ Condition Level: 3 - All Clear ]=---------

Jason Legacy

Raptor Pilot Bunks Mahogany Table

[H] Hallway

It's a quiet night in the berthings, apparently. Thea's seated at the table, a drink in hand, files open in front of her. She looks a little worse for the wear and is sitting…oddly.

Jason is tucked away in his bunk, though his curtain's open. He's in his off-duties, flipping through a magazine he probably picked up on the last shore leave stop. A music and pop culture mag printed on Caprica. Being quiet and keeping to himself, as is the ECO's standard operating mode.

Legacy glances over her shoulder at the quiet ECO, studying him for a moment. "Are you awake over there, or just pretending that I don't exist, Lieutenant?"

Jason looks up from his magazine, honestly surprised to be called up from it. "Me, sir?" The clarification seems wise. He's just a jig, and probably not the only 'lieutenant' within ear-shot. Though the others may be more securely tucked away. He sits up, shrugging, a rather sheepish smile coming to his face. "I am awake, sir. Sorry. I wasn't trying to pretend anything. I just don't like reading with the curtain closed. The overhead light makes the pages glare."

Thea laughs softly and shakes her head. "At ease, Lieutenant," she says, eyes crinkling at the corners. Her smile is tired, but it's a smile. "You're one of the few ECOs I haven't had a heart to heart with of late, and I just came across your file." She lifts it up, showing it off. "Thought I'd say hello, if you weren't busy. If you'd prefer to go back to reading, I won't hold it against you."

Jason shakes his head, putting down his magazine and ducking out of his bunk. He strides over to the table, to join Legacy. "Now's fine with me. The reading will keep. It's probably best that it does, actually. It's not as if recent issues of anything are always easy to come by here."

Legacy pushes a chair out for him and leans back in her chair, relaxing. "So, tell me about yourself," is what she starts with, smiling over at him.

Jason shrugs, thinking over that. "Uh, what do you want to know, sir?" he asks, seeming honestly puzzled by the question. "There's not much to tell, really. I'm not terribly exciting. What do you want to know? That's not in my file, that is."

"How did you get started in this," she asks, head cocking to the side. "Why become an ECO?"

Jason gives another shrug to that. "Well, I'm from Picon." He says that as if that should explain a lot of it right there. "Both my folks were in the Navy. It was something you just sort of do in my family. And the benefits are pretty decent as far as college goes. Even in the Reserves. Grad school's not draining me quite as much as it would otherwise, at least. I'm doing my masters in Astronomy. At least, I will be when I get back to it. ECO's closer to field study for that than I could get with most other Navy billets."

Thea laughs softly at that and dips her head, once. "Fair enough," she says, musing as she studies him. "You and poet seem to be our scholarly types. Ensign Roubani, callsign: Poet. Have you two met?"

Jason grins slightly. "Briefly. Physicist, right? He mentioned he was looking into grad school on Caprica. Seems like a nice enough guy. Poet?" He chuckles. "Does he rhyme over the wireless or something?"

"I have NO clue where it came from," Thea admits, shaking her head. "I call him Cube, after Rubix Cube, since he's a damn puzzle." Well, the Captain seems like a smiling sort. "So, what do you want to do with yourself? Lifer?"

"Lifer? Me? Gods, no." Jason chuckles at that. Before he realizes that may not be polite. He flushes, shrugging. "No offense if you are, sir. Like I said, both my parents are Navy. It's not a bad life if you're suited for it. I'm not particularly, though. I'm a reservist now, which is fine. Lets me have some civilian breathing room and still serve as I can. But I don't think I'm built for it long-term." To the last he replies, "I do find navigation interesting, though. I'm planning to look into the civilian science vessel sector, when I finish my masters program. Astronomical phenomena study, that sort of thing."

"Fair enough," Thea says, trying to bite back a smile. "Some folks aren't cut out for life, some of us, well…" A shoulder lifts delicately and she flips his file shut. "So, you need a callsign."

Jason eyebrows arch. "Cut out? That wasn't quite…" He shrugs, not getting into that. The callsign part has him wary enough. "I do?"

"Nono," Thea says quietly, shaking her head. "That's not…quite what I meant. Some people are cut out for other things, like scholarly pursuits. Poet, for example," she says with a small smile. "He's cut out for using the things that save us pilots. Some of us are cut out for flying. Everyone has their specialty." A pause and she nods. "You do."

Jason holds up a hand. "It's fine, sir. I'm not offended. I've heard it before." A lot, from his tone, though on the surface he's good-natured enough. He doesn't appear to want to get into it. As a callsign he shrugs, still looking wary. "I don't tend to spend enough time on assignments to earn them. Though I'm here for a somewhat longer stretch. I want to finish out my entire commitment before next semester." He smirks. "Some of those callsigns can get pretty funky."

Poor Thea looks, briefly, consternated. "Lifer," she says, head cocking to the side, lips twitching. "I'd have to try that one on for size. Hmmm. Something to consider."

Jason had likely figured the 'Lifer' part, though he just nods. "Something will come up, I'm sure," he says, more resigned than anything else to the cruel fate of whatever callsign he ends up with. He regards Legacy for a moment, then asks, "Are you all right, sir? You seemed in a bit of a downer earlier."

Thea hesitates for a long moment, then sighs very quietly. "Getting shot in the ass isn't as much fun as people say it is. My stitches itch."

Jason winces, looking half-sorry he asked, from her reaction. "I heard a little about that. I imagine it's not. Particularly fun, that is. I can't say I've ever offered my backside up for target practice." He attempts a half-smile at the semi-joke.

Legacy pauses, then laughs, shaking her head. "I didn't offer," she mutters. "One of our Marines just had DAMNED good aim." She doesn't look too upset about things, though. "It was a bar fight that went horribly awry. The bullet - well, I thought it was one of theirs. Turned out to be one of ours."

Jason winces to that. "This is why I stay out of bars on the wrong side of town," he says, still trying to be somewhat light. But he does look sympathetic. "It happens, I suppose. One of my dad's technicians accidentally cut my old man's pinky off in the machine shop once. The medic reattached it, fortunately. He used to call it his zombie finger." He grins faintly.
Her nose crinkles and she grins. "Well, it was actually a very NICE bar, with crappy people." There's a wince and she shakes her head. "That…oh, your poor father. Did the tech live it down?"

Jason gives that another shrug. "Eventually. Dad gave him the evil eye for awhile, but accidents happen in the engine room. I think Dad was just glad the guy wasn't responsible for the main drives or anything. Were your folks Navy, too, sir?"

"Yep," she says with a grin, rather casual as she shifts to get comfortable. "Dad was a pilot and took over the pilot academy on Gemenon. I, well…it was in my blood. My mother was, is, a theater professor."

"Theater, huh? Cool." That makes Jason's grin broaden. "Dad's an engineer. Mom's a nursing officer. There wasn't much musical theater around my house. I had to wait until college to be exposed to showtunes."

Legacy groans softly. "No showtunes, please," she says, shaking her head quickly. "No, no, no." The laugh finally overtakes her and she reaches for her glass. "Ok, other hobbies?"

Jason shakes his head, laughing. "I wasn't a fan, though I dated somebody sophomore year who dragged me to enough of the damn things. I prefer Scorpian soul music, personally." He shrugs as to the hobbies thing. "I keep warning you, sir, I'm not terribly exciting. The usual stuff, I guess. Triad, chess. Hiking, not that you get outdoors much on these things."

"Blues," Thea says quietly. "Some good, old fashioned, Gemenese blues." Her eyes twinkle just a little as she falls into thought for a moment. "And don't worry about being boring. Boring, believe it or not, is good. Speaking of boring, have you met Poppyflower yet?"

"People who think they're exciting usually exhaust me," Jason concurs. He nods, as to Poppy. "We're both ECOs, so I know her. Know of her more than know her, really."

"Duck," Thea says simply, smiling.

Jason's eyebrows do that arch thing again. "Goose, sir?" is the only reply he can come up with.

She grins, shaking her head. "Poppy is…very high energy. I tend to duck when she's around. It's safer that way."

Jason gets a laugh out of that. "Well, I'm pretty low-key, sir. Maybe between the two of us we'll balance to normalcy."

"No such thing in an air wing," she teases, shaking her head. "Alright, I won't keep you from your magazine anymore. Unless you've got questions for me?"

Jason shakes his head. "Nah. No questions. Thanks for the conversation, though." He stands, though before he returns to his bunk he adds, "I know I don't put myself out there much, sir. I hope folks don't take it the wrong way. I know the typical Air Wing thing is trying to be the loudest guy in the room at any given time, but it's just not me."

Legacy shakes her head and smiles up at him. "No," she says quietly. "I don't expect everyone to be cookie-cutter. Differences are good. Are very good."

Jason nods, seeming more relaxed than he was before he ducked out of his bunk. Though he's not terribly showy by nature, so the difference is slight. "Have a good night, Captain," he says simply, before heading back to his bunk. Tugging the curtain closed this time. Shut-eye approaches.

Legacy dips her head, once, as he goes, then turns back to her files - and her drink.

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