| Paved With Good Intentions |
| Summary: | After the fiasco in the mess hall with Martin and Samantha, Roubani has some private words with Castor |
| Date: | PHD046 |
| Related Logs: | Then It Got Weird |
| Players: |
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Kharon - Storage
Roubani is sitting on a tall crate in the storage unit, smoking a cigarette here rather in the louder areas of the game room or the lounge. Wearing his off-duties, his plaster-bound right arm resting in a sling whose blue clashes loudly with the dull olive fatigues.
Castor enters into the area, in one hand is a cigar and in the other hand is a bottle of ambrosia, right now he has some quality stuff almost the top shelf stuff. He looks up at Roubani and says, "Poet." He offers as he takes a puff of his cigar.
Roubani's dark eyes lift from the edge of his boot that he was watching. The reserved way he watches Castor's approach could not really be called friendly, much different from yesterday. "Lieutenant Leda. Evening."
Cigarette and booze in the storage room. It could be the start to a very good evening… or a very bad evening. That all depends on the company. And as a particular PO appears in the doorway, it seems to be leaning toward the latter. The door's pushed open with the quickness that suggests she wasn't expecting company, and as Fenix blinks at the already-present pilots. Well, damn. Eyes narrowing slightly on Castor, and then trailing toward the casted Roubani. Pausing there, and for a moment, losing some of her usual glower. "I, uh. Sorry." Ready to back out again, hand still on the door.
Castor takes a second to look at Roubani, "Everything okay, Ensign?" There is something in his voice in his voice that is probing, Leda is bright when it comes to people and Roubani becoming reserved at his approach sets off the warning alarms. He turns to look at Fenix, "Come on in Chief, I've got ambrosia if you care to partake of some and if you are off duty."
"Frankly, sir. No." Roubani answers Castor. His voice remains soft as ever, but it's not gentle just at the moment. His eyes shift to the hatchway as he hears another voice. "Good evening, petty officer."
Black eyes are trailing slowly between the pair of pilots, and judging by the hand that lingers on the door, Fenix is still leaning toward the 'cut and run' option. But Roubani's frank denial has her pausing, 'brows raised slightly as she looks back to Castor. She's never seen the man deal with other pilots… but she looks a bit wary as she waits for his response. Predicting a tiny trainwreck, and too masochistic to look away. "Got my own vices, thanks." Murmured in response to the offer of alcohol, before she's looking back to Roubani. Choo, choo.
Castor says in soothing tones to Roubani, "What is the problem, Poet? Is there anything I can do to help?" He asks as he looks at the Chief holding the bottle of ambrosia out, it hasn't even been opened, this one comes from Scorpia oddly enough. "Chief I still want to get a drink with you at some point. If this isn't to your liking I reckon I can find something else." His eyes move back to Roubani because he is concerned for the pilot and he isn't sure what the problem is.
Roubani doesn't say anything for a few seconds, his attention flickering between his superior officer and the enlisted. He drops his cigarette, gently crushing it before standing it. "You could listen, sir. But perhaps another time; this is not an appropriate situation." Soft, formal. "Enjoy your ambrosia."
Fenix can take a hint. Or she thinks she can. Roubani's oh-so-formal response has the woman's eyes widening slightly, and then ever-stained hands are raised in the usual 'I fold' gesture. "Go for it, flyboys. I'm out." Already starting to back away, not bothering to comment on Castor's offer of a drink. Whether accurate or not, the Chief's taken Roubani's statement as a clear social dismissal.
Castor studies Roubani and then he looks over at the Chief, "I'll be seeing you later than Chief." He turns back to Roubani, "Poet, the Chief is on her way out. If you've got something to say I am willing to listen because I'd like to know for once what is going on in that brilliant mind of yours." He doesn't waves as the Chief says what she needs to say and Castor puts the bottle down on the ground.
As the Chief seems to want to go, Roubani remains where he is on his feet. Fenix gets a slightly apologetic incline of his head; protocol isn't an easy jungle to navigate when you're an Ensign.
Fenix heads through the exit labeled <H> Hallway.
Fenix has left.
Castor watches as the Chief leaves and then says, "Alright, you got something to say then I'm listening." His tones are honest and he really does seem curious as to what Roubani is going to say.
Roubani exhales quietly, looking back at Castor. "Sir." This is slightly uncomfortable for a lower rank, but he goes on, keeping his voice soft. "Your behaviour last night in the mess hall. I will be frank, I found it disturbing, demoralising, and cruel."
Castorsimply listens to Roubani, "Go on, Ensign." He doesn't seem to be angered by what he has heard and he seems to be genuinely paying attention.
Roubani quietly clears his throat. "Whether or not you felt Lieutenant Passi and Lieutenant Crydel's personal life was Lieutenant Black's business or not, sir, airing it to the entire table was a heartless thing to have done. We had no business being made involved in their issues, and Lieutenant Black did not deserve to have that on display in front of an entire table of wingmates."
Castor seems quiet comfortable as he listens to Roubani, "I see." he takes a second to mull all of this over before he says, "Anything else you would like to add before I explain myself?"
"No, sir," Roubani replies, simply. His free hand folds behind his back.
Castor says, "I'm glad you decided to share this information with me, you are helping me be a better officer and you are also sharing your problems with my style, and anything you tell me will be taken into consideration as to how I do things." He stands with arms uncrossed and his body language shows he is open as does his manner of speech. "Having said that, I did what I do for two reasons, this is a small ship, much smaller than a Battlestar and that means information is going to get shared about twice as fast and that is bad for everyone. I always planned on speaking with Martin in private and telling him about the new couple. I wanted to do this before someone else tried to hurt his feelings with some lame joke." He then sighs, "I wanted to speak with Martin in private but the man asked me in front of everyone at the table and so I had to honor a fellow Jigs question."
Roubani listens to everything the Lieutenant has to say, but then shakes his head. "With all due respect, sir, that's no excuse, and blaming him for your actions greatly decreases my respect for you. Lieutenant Black asked you because you were telegraphing to him that there was something he didn't know. But you did not have to say what you said in front of us. You could have asked him to come out into the hall with you. You could have said you'd talk to him later. But you came off as eager to see his pain and make a whore of Lieutenant Passi in front of the air wing, sir."
Castor takes his turn to listen as well, before he finally says, "You are correct I could have asked Dash outside. However, if you think for one moment ensign that I enjoyed breaking the news and that I enjoy pain then you would be greatly mistaken." He then says, "Ensign, every member of this crew is important, especially the Air Wing. I do not enjoy being the one to break bad news and I do not enjoy seeing anyone in pain and I am not sure how you got that impression from me at all."
"Sir," Roubani replies, softly. "I can't see what's in your heart. I can't see your intentions. I can only see what you do. And perhaps you don't enjoy being cruel, but you chose to do a cruel thing. You forced Lieutenant Black to have to endure such a thing in front of us. You made Lieutenant Passi sound like a loose woman. What could have been contained is now an even larger circle of vicious gossip and ill will. I feel for you in wanting to have done the right thing…I really do. But sir…I wish you had thought to do it."
Castor continues to listen to Roubani, "Poet, I really do thank you for being honest with me about this. From my perspective I felt I was doing the right thing and I'm unaware of any other gossip." He pauses as if thinking about this and after a moment he says, "Though I'll take your word on it. That was not my intention. I also never meant to insult the eltee, she is my wingman." He then runs his hand over the top over his head looking for hair that isn't there from a crew cut. "Poet, again, thank you for sharing this with me. I will do my best to be a better officer to you and the rest of the crew." His voice carries honest tones.
Roubani exhales softly. His shoulders still have a formal straightness to them, and the lingering damage to his trust in Castor is in his eyes. But he does nod. "Thank you, sir. Have a good evening."
"Yeah, take care Poet." Leda then picks up his bottle of ambrosia and leaves with a heavy look on his face.
