Reunited
Reunited
Summary: The resistance and marines finally locate Kai and Salazar.
Date: PHD077 (5 July 2009)
Related Logs: Scorpia logs
Players:
Legacy..Dmitri..Komnenos..Roubani..Damon..Jules..Kai..Salazar..

Scorpia - Osprey

Just outside the front door of the clinic, Roubani has been sitting on the porch in the nighttime darkness, close to the entranceway but not blocking it. Cyrus has gone off to try one of the wireless sets in one of Dmitri's new spots. The Ensign's by himself, sitting cross-legged on the creaky wood floor with his elbows on his knees. His prayer beads are wrapped around his clasped hands, his forehead lowered to them. He might be asleep if not for some soft, repetitive mumbling.

Thea comes out after a bit. It's been a day of switch shifts, of keeping low and away from patrols. Before first light, Parts took off with Case, taking her back to the bunker with an order to return with reinforcements. For now, it's just Thea, Thorn, Dmitri, Cyrus and Poet. Dmitri, of course, is off doing whatever it is a Dmitri does. Thorn's under orders to rest. The Captain stays just inside the front door, out of sight. The only clue to her presence, besides that indelible feeling of 'other' there is the quiet creaking of the door, and perhaps a bit of displaced air.

The subtlety passes under Roubani's radar for now. The wooden beads make a soft clicking noise as he pulls two over his fingers, the long recitation beginning again after a pause to lick his dry lips. The language he mutters in isn't Colonial. It's softer and more gutteral, and has a rhythm more like spoken song than real speech.

And still the woman doesn't interrupt him. Perhaps it's her newfound sensitivity to all things religious. Perhaps it's simply the comforting cadence of the words. Whatever the reason, Thea keeps her own counsel. She only moves to pull her own beads from her pocket, silently, watching his fingers and their movements. Imitating them.

And on. And on. And perhaps on if not for Roubani's own parched throat. In the middle of a line he starts to cough, the harsh sound interrupting the words and crinkling his face. He gets up on one knee and leans over, grimacing as he spits off the side of the porch into the brown grass and then settles back, beads dangling from his fingers. Of course, it's only -after- one does something so disgusting that they notice they have company, and as he spots Thea he promptly turns quite red. "Captain."

Thea simply reaches down to her belt and holds out her canteen, fingers firmly planted on her own side. "Ensign," she says softly. She remains crouched where she is, eyes surveying the city in front of them rather than focused on the man. "All quiet?"

Roubani coughs again, accepting the canteen. He unscrews the cap and tilts it up, downing two measured swallows and exhaling. "Yes, sir." Settling back on his heels, he replaces the cap with his bandaged hand. "No contacts reported."

She nods once and hooks the canteen back on her belt. "It's time to change the bandage on your hand," Thea says quietly, rocking back slightly on her heels. Out of her pocket come the supplies. "How bad is it hurting you?" It's odd - she looks and sounds like Thea, but she's gone into professional mode, it would appear.

"As one might expect, sir." Roubani uncoils the beads that had become slightly tangled in his palm, straightening them out until they can be slid back onto his wrist. His eyes look up once to skim the horizon and then back down at the beads until they're safe in place.

"Yes, sir." Roubani replies, quiet and terse. Relying on the three working fingers of his right hand, he pulls at the surgical tape until it peels away, then tugs off the other layers of gauze. White, white, slight yellow, yellow and red, yellow red and crusty bits. The bullet went straight through his hand from back to front, making a tunnel through the flesh that's still weeping fluid while it heals. The dirty bandages are crumpled and set on his leg.

Thea looks at his face, briefly, then down at the hand. "Do you want me to do this or talk you through it," She asks quietly, unclipping the canteen again. He's getting the choice - let her touch him or not.

"Whatever is easier on you, sir." Roubani watches the street as he replies, studying a shadow for a few moments. Nope, it's not moving.

"You need to get the hell over that and develop a backbone if you're ever going out in the field again, Roubani," she says quietly. The canteen's opened and a small measure of the liquid is poured into his palm. When she touches him, it's with light, fleeting touches, as brief as possible. First comes the cleaning of the wound. "When I ask a question like that, I want an honest opinion. I know that you don't want to be touched, but I'm willing to do this the hard way if it makes you more comfortable. We're not exactly staying at the Hera Hilton, and there's enough discomfort as it is." Thea and Roubani are crouched just out of sight on the porch of the medical clinic. Thea's cleaning Roubani's wound.

Roubani makes a humourless sound in his throat. His tone steels a bit, returning to terse. "Yes, sir."

A low sound, something akin to a quiet growl, escapes Thea's throat, but she says nothing else. Her focus is on wrapping Roubani's hand, putting fresh gauze over the wound along with a little antibiotic ointment. Despite her apparent grumpiness, her touch is kept infinitely gentle, with minimal contact.

Roubani keeps his hand out. There's a involuntary twitch of his fingers here and there when she hits a spot that really hurts, but he endures her anger as he endures most things - in silence. His eyes make regular sweeps around the street by the clinic.

Strangely enough, it's not anger fueling Thea. With simple efficiency, she secures the bandage and starts to gather the remnants of the work to pack them away. "Your shift is over soon, yes," she asks, glancing over at him.

"Evenin' folks." Dmitri steps down onto the porch, pausing as he sees others there— a hand lifting, a vague salute towards the pair, a smile faintly twitching to his lips, "Good news. No reason for us t'be here."

Roubani withdraws his hand. For someone accused of having no backbone, his manner remains put-together. "It begins when Korosti returns, Captain." His chin lifts slightly as someone comes out onto the porch, and he nods to Dmitri. "News?"

Thea glances over her shoulder at Dmitri, arching a brow delicately. Since Roubani did the honors, she remains quiet, waiting for Dmitri to elaborate.

Dmitri gestures vaguely towards the center of the city, "Somebody hit it before us. Dead metal around, whoever it was got winged - blood, not enough for a kill. Tower's down."

Roubani is silent a moment. Part of that news had come out last night…but part hadn't. He shifts, settling back on his heels, and his brows draw. "Blood. Enough that whoever it was might not have gotten far?"

Jules turns a corner, machine gun slung over her left shoulder. An MRE is held in her hands, opened, and she's got some of the powder from it on her chin. She walks on up towards the porch.

Thea mulls that for a moment or two, then nods once. "That's actually all the more reason to stay for a bit longer," she tells Dmitri quietly. "We still have another pilot out there who's…" She pauses, considering. IS Kai capable of bringing that tower down? "Who's more than capable of doing that. It could be from one of the road gangs…" Her voice trails off as she spots Jules. Sigh. Rather than tear into the woman, though, Thea says quietly, "You have next watch and are relieving Roubani."

"Possibly. Doubt whoever it was, was alone," Dmitri shakes his head, "Hard to pull something like that off, one man. I'd say two, three tops though."

"Not big enough for a gang." Roubani muses. "Perhaps he's found someone else." He glances over at Jules and nods to the Marine in greeting, then looks back at Dmitri. "Was there a blood trail?"

Jules rolls her shoulders at Legacy. "Been working the perimeter, sir. But if the Ensign'd like to rest, I can take up watch." More of the MRE is downed and she nods Roubani's way before finding a spot on the porch to perch and unsling her weapon, checking it over.

Thea's lips purse for a moment and she nods to Jules. "Mr. Alexandros was just letting us know," she tells the other woman, "That someone took the tower down in the center of Osprey. There's a blood trail. It means we need to be keeping our eyes out for who it is. It's possible Captain Marek made it down here, but I don't know if he's working alone or if he found help somewhere." Her attention turns up to Dmitri. "Are you missing any Resistance folk?"

"Nothing I could follow," Dmitri's nose wrinkles, "Urban environments aren't exactly my forte, there's no grass or dirt or plants to leave traces in. As for missing…" A shrug of one shoulder, "You should ask Angelica or Anthem, they'd know better'n me."

Roubani shrugs at Jules at the mention of his resting. He doesn't look particularly tired. "If he and someone else did hit the towers, they've likely fallen back to avoid any further patrols. Perhaps to a structure to regroup, one that may have medical supplies for the injuries."

Satisfied with her weapon's status, Jules chugs the last of her MRE and shoves the packaging into a pocket, pushing to her feet. "Any one figure out how we're gonna contact Kharon? I mean, I like being planetside and all, but… I'm sure they need us up there."

Thea rocks back on her heels again, mulling the new information. "I wonder," she muses, eyes going distant for a moment. But whatever she was mulling over doesn't get shared. "We have Ensign Roubani and Mr. Korosti going out to different locations that Mr. Alexandros plotted in an attempt to get a signal out. Given our wireless, it will only work if Kharon has Raptors atmo." Ahhh, pilotspeak. "We'll keep trying. I'm varying the locations so that the Cylons can't triangulate and track. For now, I want to keep a base here in Osprey until we're sure Captain Marek isn't in the vicinity. Then we'll fall back to the bunker and redezvous with Lieutenant McTiernan."

Dmitri scratches under his chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Well," he muses, "You think there might be somethin' that we can use in the city that has a longer range than your wireless?"

Jules nods over at the Captain. Machine gun held at waist height, she moves to the edge of the porch and steps down off of it.

"If the Chief got that drone working…" Roubani murmurs thoughtfully. "I don't know how much that could augment the signal." His fingers scratch through his none-too-clean hair and he settles back on one heel, the other knee against his chest for his arm to drape on. His dark eyes shift to Thea. "Captain Marek can read the symbols of old Sagittaron writing. If we put some around the city, if it's him he might see it. If it isn't him, it'll mean nothing."

Komnenos arrives from the Osprey Small Emergency Clinic.
Komnenos has arrived.

Thea nods slowly then looks over at Roubani, a smile tilting her lips upward. "Excellent thought. I was trying to figure out what symbols we could use that he'd recognize." Then her attention pops to Dmitri. "I was hoping that the communications bunker might actually be good for that. Our wireless reaches back there." Then she looks up at Jules, consideringly. "You ready to go prowling with us pilot types to write ancient symbols in the dust?"

Dmitri exhales a faint snort of amusement. "That's one way. Anything you want me t'be doing?"

Jules stops in her tracks and takes a deep breath, turning to face Legacy and Roubani. Dmitri is given a once over before she looks at the two officers again. "Sounds like a wild goose chace to me, sir. I want Captain Marek back, but…" Shaking her head, she turns and resumes her walk. "If it's what you order me to do, I'll do it."

Roubani stands up, shaking out his legs and leaning against the porch rail instead. The wooden prayer beads around his wrist click very softly. He looks thoughtful, lips thinned as he looks out at the street beyond.

Legacy straightens and nods to Dmitri. "If you could keep an eye on things here. The smaller the group going out, the better off we'll be. With a Marine with us, we shouldn't be too bad, and I don't intend for us to go too far afield. I'm going to go get my pack and will be out in a few minutes for some recon."

Damon arrives from the Hwy 19.
Damon has arrived.

Heading up tp the truck stop is the dark form of Damon Cavalera, the newly outed convicted felon. Rifle in his arms as he moves, his long dreadlocked hair hangs down over his shoulders as he makes his way towards the group. Cigarette between his lips, he takes a drag off of it and then holds the cigarette in such a way that his hand covers over the burning cherry at the end.

Another new figure emerges, this one from the burned out clinic the recon group had been using as a shelter. Anton Komnenos has shed his flightsuit down to the waist, revealing his sweat-stained tanks and dogtags. His eyes are a little bleary as though he's just woken up, and he flicks a spent cigarette butt to the side as he trudges into view. He's left his rifle inside, but his service pistol is a reassuring weight on his hip.

Dmitri notes the new arrivals with a tilt of his chin in a nod up, and over. "Evenin'." That said, he leans back forward against his knees, returning to a casual observation of the street.

The police badge bearing the name 'F. Dobrin' has been moved to his hip, and on Damon's chest is a combat vest. A little bodily protection for the man who's cheated death right from the jaws. "Likewise." Damon says, glancing towards Komnenos. Turning his face to the clinic to drag off of his cigarette, he exhales the smoke and moves to crouch down near the door. "…anything to report I should know about? Find anyone else?"

"Found th'central tower," Dmitri reports absently from his perch along the side of the patio, just keeping watch on the street, "Already down. Someone took it out."

Roubani had gone inside to reload his rifle and rearrange things in his pack. Both are over his shoulders, and service pistol is in place at his leg as he comes back out to the porch. Some of the weakened wood creaks a little under his boots, making more sound than his footsteps themselves.

Thea returns a moment later with her pack and a considering look on her face. "Let's lay down the symbols and then all fall back to the bunker," she announces quietly. "It's dangerous for us to stay in Osprey, and it's possibly unnecessary. I don't want to put you all at any more risk than you already are. So we'll lay the symbols as we get the hells out of dodge."

Thorn grunts a terse, wordless greeting to the others; he seems to be overcoming his distrust of new faces, a good idea given the marooned Kharon crew's evident dependence on this impromptu resistance movement. He stays silent, only half listening for the moment, although Dmitri's announcement regarding the central tower certainly grabs his attention. As Thea rejoins the group, though, he finally speaks. "Symbols?" His eyes look around quizically from person to person. "I know I was tired, but I didn't think I'd slept that long. I miss something?"

Dmitri drops back silent, as usual with plenty of people around. He just goes back to watching.

Roubani straightens the collar of his fatigues. It's an ultimately useless gesture considering how dirty and ripped they are, but it looks like something a soldier would naturally do. "What if they are injured and cannot make it?" He asks Thea softly, with concern in his voice. "Or can't find the bunker. We can't do this and then wait just one more evening?" He glances at Kom but lets Thea do the explaining. Dmitri gets a short nod of greeting, then the unfamiliar new face over there. Unfamiliar faces happen a lot lately.

"Weren't there more up this way we've been trying to find?" Damon asks Thea, keeping his voice low. He's in perfect shape, even for a civillian and thus far he's unharmed. Taking the final drag from his cigarette, which appears to be a D-grade brand, he crushes it with his boot. He looks down the highway, in the direction of the bunker. "How far's the bunker from here?" Seems someone's been hiding on his own.

"We're still looking for one of our own," Thea tells Damon, watching him for a time. "And it's a ways back." She turns her attention to Roubani and Komnenos. "Let's see what we can find. If we find evidence he was here, we can fall back here to this location again. If not, we'll move out and check back in a couple days." Not an easy decision for her. "Ensign, make sure you've got the wireless tuned in case the bunker's trying to reach us." Then back to Dmitri and Damon. "Are you two going with us?"

"You just told me to keep an eye on things here," Dmitri observes, slanting a look over and arching a brow upwards, "Make up your mind, cap'n. Am I stayin' here or wanderin' around with you all?"

Damon considers for a moment, watching the gravel of the front of the clinic as he considers. "You got a picture, name, or description of the ones you're looking for?" He says, looking to her. "I'm figuring I might got a chance with mother nature's camouflage, since it's dark outside and I'm quiet, might be worth taking a look around when we got a chance."

Roubani nods a little to Thea. Not worth arguing anymore when they don't even know it's Marek. He checks the wireless pack on his belt - light's on - and reshoulders his rifle. Commenting to Komnenos under his breath since Thea didn't get to it, "Captain Legacy wanted to leave around some messages for Marek. Provided it is Marek who took down that tower. He can read old Sagittaron symbols."

Thea glances to Dmitri, head canting to the side. "As I was getting my pack, I realized that it's better if we move out and not stay in one place much longer. It's not worth risking so many lives for just one." Yeah, like that's easy to say. "You're welcome to come with us - or not." She shakes her head to Damon. "There's one left, as I said," she says quietly. "Captain Karim Marek." She gives a brief description. "Alright, Thorn, as soon as you're ready, we'll move out. Make sure you're reloaded in case we run into trouble."

Dmitri nods, once, and then he pushes off his perch; hopping down all of a foot to the patio, he shoulders his rifle. "A'ight, then. Marek, is it? I'll do some pokin' around the city, then. Back to th'bunker afterwards?"

Thorn nods in relief as the discussion is explained. There's little more he hates than being out of the loop. That makes sense, then. He pulls his tattered flightsuit back onto his shoulder. "I'll just need t' grab my rifle from inside, then, Captain, and we can leave." He runs off to do just that, emerging moments later with the weapon slung over his shoulder. "Ready t' go, Cat," he announces as he moves back in with the group.

Damon looks around, not at their faces but at the road. Eyes and face expressionless with that dead, jail yard look to them, he rises and grabs his rifle. "I'll go with you." He says to Legacy, checking the clip in his assault rifle. Keeping his flashlight off to protect his night vision, he looks to her, ready to move when she does.

"I have a marker from my toolkit," Roubani says, still keeping his voice quiet. "If anyone has chalk or the like, that would help." Yeah, right. He looks back out over the street and steps down off the porch, staying by the rail until everyone's ready. He then looks back up at Thea, indicating the clinic with his chin. "Do you wish any message left here, Captain?"

"Rendezvous at the bunker," she tells Dmitri. "I'd prefer it if we all stayed together for this, to be honest with you. That way no more SAR parties have to go out." Thea straightens her pack and settles the rifle more comfortably in her arms. "One here, Ensign, yes. Then we'll make our way southwest across the city in a zig-zag pattern."

At that, Dmitri pauses, glancing back with a slight grimace. "If y'insist. Larger group'll make it easier for us t'get spotted by the cylons, though, y'realize."

"Sensitive time." Damon says with his smoothe voice, quietly to the group. "…people go missing or get lost, they might miss the boat out of here. More people you can keep together, the more likely you'll be in the group getting out of here." Damon says, brushing his forearm over the front of his chin. He moves to keep an eye on the street, taking a knee, waiting for Legacy to move out.

Roubani takes the marker from the side pocket of his pack, uncapping it. He regards the front of the clinic for a few moments before starting to write on the wood. The letters aren't large but they're visible. It's a weird language, their dying old Sagittaron dialect, written right to left. Hard to tell if it's an actual alphabet; some of it looks like bizarre pictograms rather than words. At the end is a small symbol that looks like a crescent moon.

"He's right," Thorn chimes in, glancing at the dreadlocked newcomer. "You make the group too small, they'd never have a chance against a proper Cylon patrol." He trails off after that, evidently in a mood of few words at the moment. "And we're damn well not leaving any of our people behind out here."

"Duly noted, Mr. Alexandros," Thea says quietly. "But we're not a huge group at the moment, and I'm really not looking forward to having to come back out to make sure more folk aren't dead. You may not be military, but you still fall under 'leave no man behind.'" It's apparently that simple to Thea. "Alright folks, keep low, weapons ready. Let's move out. Damon, if you or Mr. Alexandros would be so kind as to lead the way? You all know the city better. Ensign, I'll cover your six. Lieutenant, you're with the Private covering all of our sixes. Stay with your partner."

"It's usually better to just stay th'frak out of their way," Dmitri mutters about the patrols, but there's no further objection from the survivalist. He cracks his neck, one side and then the other, and then heads out into the street. "How wide you want these markings've yours?"

The edges of the 'moon' get a few lines around them. Moonlight. Roubani recaps the pen and tucks it into his front pocket, pulling his rifle off his shoulder and to the ready with a nod to Thea. "Understood, sir."

"I don't know where the bunker is, but I got good eyes." Damon says in reply, rising from his crouched position. Safety of his weapon on, he crooks the butt of the weapon into his shoulder. For a civillian that isn't a cop, and an admitted criminal, he knows how to move fairly well. Glancing back to them, he starts to move forward. "Let's do this."

"Right," Thorn acknowledges his order, and falls back behind the rest of the group, weapon ready, the bubbly little Marine at his side.

And so they start off, moving quickly and quietly through the streets. It's roughly once every other block that Thea stops for Roubani to do his magic. "Not too wide," Thea tells Dmitri quietly. "Visible, but not glaring. The Captain knows to look for subtlties." A pause. "I hope." Yes, Thea is tense as hell right now. This is probably like going on a milk run through downtown Baghdad.

Roubani moves quietly, keeping to the deepest shadows when he can. The marker comes out when Thea instructs, making quick scribbles across a wall here, a wall there as he trusts the others to watch his back while he does so. Most of the messages are repeats of the ones before, with some small additions sometimes. Each one gets the same moonlight pictogram at the very end. He works fast, always sticking the marker back into his front pocket as he whispers, "Ready, sir."

Walking with the rest of the group, Damon slows and falls back to walk just a bit ahead of Legacy. Eyes forward, he keeps his voice low and barely a loud whisper. "So Captain…" He says, eyes forward and scanning for signs of movement and light flashes. With the dark, brooding sentry sense falling into place over his features, he asks his question as he walks. "…what's the likelihood that they'll commute my death sentence when we get back to your ship?"

Roubani suddenly stops in his tracks, both hands going to his ears. One's pressing on the wireless earpiece in the left, the other plugging his right. "Sirs." His voice is quiet but suddenly sharp. "It's Marek. Distress call, position fifty-four carom two-niner north, zero six four carom zero three west." He's talking as he's listening, repeating what's coming into his ear like a simultaneous translator. "Two people…one injured…requesting medical assistance."

"…that was fast," Dmitri's head lifts— brow furrowing tightly, he listens to Roubani, then looks to Legacy, a brow arching questioningly. "Assuming we're headin' there double-time, then?"

Thea holds her hand up for the group to stop, listening to what Roubani has to say. She nods to Dmitri, once. "Double-time," she says quietly. "But cautiously. Ensign, let him know we're enroute, if you can get a message back to him."

The business of caroms means little to Damon, and the information is lost on him save for the mention of north and west. He turns his head towards the northwest and rests his finger calmly over the trigger guard of his assault rifle. Distress call was the word of the hour. "Whole lot of soldiers, very few doctors." Damon says quietly to himself. There's no sounds of gunfire, which is reassuring. His question lost in the wind, he stops and prepares to follow.

"Spider, Poet," Roubani talks into the wireless, eyes skimming around them as he talks as loud as he possibly dares in this infested hellhole of enemy. "We copy, Spider. En route to position fifty-four carom two-niner north, zero six four carom zero three west. Is there any other information you can give us about where you are, sir?" Because when you're on the ground sans maps, this kind of sucks.

Komnenos listens with interest as Roubani delivers his report. Caroms and coordinates are the Raptor ECO's bread and butter, and his mental map of the area, such as it is, gives him at least a vague idea of Marek's location. It's a bit of a hike, but nothing unmanageable by any means. Thorn's pace quickens along with everyone else; he's still quiet, though, his rifle bobbing in his hands as he keeps a watch on the surroundings.

The safety's off Dmitri's rifle, and he nods, once, to Legacy. He doesn't start moving yet, though, just looking to Roubani, waiting to see if something new comes in.

"It's good to hear yours too sir. You have no idea." Roubani's talking to the wireless, keeping up with the group as they follow the folks that know where they're going. Which appears to be Thorn. "Cedar avenue behind the gas station. Copy that, let me relay and get you an ETA." He looks back at the others, mostly Dmitri and Damon, the "locals". "Cedar Avenue, sound familiar?"

And Thea motions to Thorn, gesturing him to the front of the line. "Lead the way," she says quietly, then pauses to look at the others. "Let's move. I don't want to be standing still. Thorn, someone, lead the way."

Damon looks to Roubani and then to Thea, guess his curiosities about surviving only to die will have to wait. He's bee wandering in the dark for hours, he starts to hustle carefully towards the northwest. "There's a gas station on Cedar up this way." He says as he passes them, moving quickly and quietly towards the side of the road, using buildings for cover.

"How long will it take us, do you think?" Roubani starts walking when the rest do, asking Damon the question.

Dmitri's chin bobs in an affirmative nod, having just been all through the city himself; he's not the other one familiar, though, so he doesn't bother to take a lead. There's enough leaders already. He skirts to the other side of the street from the group, however, keeping under cover there as he paces them, in case of ambush from the side.

Komnenos blinks, but moves up to the front all the same. "Fifty-two four-niner by six-four zero-three…" he mutters to himself as he crunches numbers in his head. "Related to our location… That way." He points, only to see that Damon already seems to have the idea. With a shrug, he follows the dreadlocked Resistance man, treading lightly on the ruined streets.

Thea's right behind Damon as they move through the streets. She's on the lookout for unfriendlies, leaving the others on the lookout for the, well, friendlies. "Shouldn't be too much longer," the woman says quietly, holding her rifle so it doesn't bounce. "Depending on how badly injured one of them is, we'll either take them back to the bunker or bring the doctor here."

"What the lady said." Damon mutters when he reaches a corner. Leaning back against the building, he peeks around it and takes a long handfull of seconds to gaze over it. Rifle pointed towards the sidewalk, he determines that it's safe and proceeds to move low. Heading towards a good bit of cover, he points in the direction of the gas station, visible from here, providing cover for the others to move as he sets the stage to cover their movement down the stret. When it's safe to move, he gets up again and leads the way.

That's not much of an ETA. Roubani follows, talking quietly into the wireless's mic. "Spider, uncertain on exact ETA. I'm told it 'shouldn't be long'. But we are in the city and on the move, sir, keep your eyes open for us."

Dmitri is occasionally visible as he moves from one piece of cover to the next, providing flanking support. Or just keeping away from everyone else. Could go either way.

Thorn, for his part, follows Damon's lead as the man moves from cover to cover. He's looking at Roubani as he talks with the unseen Spider on the other end of the connection, trying to glean whatever info he can from one side of the conversation.

"Stick to side roads, copy that sir." Roubani repeats half for Kai's benefit and half to relay to the rest. "Black cat, Thorn, Sunshine, and three members of the resistance. All crew who crashed have been accounted for. No doctor but there is one at base…we see the gas station now, heading your way."

Damon moves quietly for someone without any formal training, and while not being overconfident it almost seems as he's not too concerned about the idea of an ambush. As they perform bounding bits of cover on their way to the gas station, his cold eyes scan before they move again. Finally reaching the gas station, he takes a knee by the door and continues to scan the road for signs of danger. His spits onto the concrete, the amount of dirt and grit in the air is astounding as the rubble nearby breathes dust in the wind.

It's a harrowing little run for the band of merry fighters. Burned out shell of a city, Cylon threat all around them, the smells of death and rotting flesh hanging in the air like a pall. But they finally get to the right coordinates, mostly silent. Thea's lips are pursed, her grip tight on the rifle in her hands. Once she can see the station, she holds up a hand for the group to halt.

Roubani halts as silently instructed, kneeling down with rifle at ready to cover. His voice murmurs into the wireless as his eyes watch the street in front of them, sharp. "Spider. We are at your position, holding at the gas station."

And halt Thorn does, leaning against a crumbling wall. He sinks down to a crouch as Roubani speaks into the radio; Komnenos watches the buildings around them for any sign of Kai.

Dmitri crouches down behind a burnt-out car; using the hood to brace his weapon, settling across from the station in case of ambush, squinting as he scans the local buildings and windows for signs of movement.

In pure resistance style fashion, the police officer's uniform that Damon wears is ragged and in severe need of repair. This is visible even by the portions of it that are sticking out of his kevlar vest. Head low and on a knee near a doorway, his dreadlocked head scans the street calmly with his quiet, introspective eyes. Not a word passes his lips as he waits, preferring silence as normal. Rifle's muzzle resting against the sidewalk, he waits.

Just across the street from the gas station, as promised, is the reptile hut. Or what's left of it. There's an 'open' sign hanging in the (miraculously intact) front window, though the view inside is one of ruin. The door jangles softly after Roubani's message over his wireless — an odd sound on the dark, deserted street — and two figures slip out. One's being supported by the other, and that 'other' looks suspiciously like Kai. Except in civilian duds. They're both carrying rifles.

Salazar's arm around Karim's shoulder tightens slightly as the two exit The Reptile Hut at the far end of the strip mall. The woman is looking paler than is normal, which would be explained by the various bandages on her person. She wears a bloody black leather vest and dark jeans. Her skin is spattered with blood. She wears a bandage around either arm, though only the left seems immobile. Another bandage is hidden under her vest. Her rifle is over her right shoulder, though it's trapped between herself and the pilot, since he's supporting part of her weight, her right arm around his shoulders. Looks like the pilot threw on some Civvies and picked up a biker chick while he was in the city. WTF.

Thea's quiet for a moment, then starts forward, toward the pair, gesturing for Roubani and Damon to come with her. The rifle gets slung around her neck so that she can help with the carrying - if needed. The others are likely left back for guarding. She approaches the pair at a jog. "Well enough to make it back on a long walk," she asks quietly.

Roubani's rifle is trained not at the two figures emerging but to the side and around them. They haven't run into any patrols and he's starting to feel their luck severely pushing it. His breaths are shallow and silent in his chest. As Thea motions, he stands up and lowers the rifle to point at the ground, starting forward. His attention gets stuck on their long lost captain for a few long seconds, then he gives a formal nod to both emerging. "Captain. Ma'am." How polite, to someone in jeans and leather. His eyes flicker once to their surroundings again, watchful.

Thorn's still-scarred face watches with apprehension as Thea, Roubani, and Damon approach the two figures emerging from the building. Kai must have picked up a straggler, and they both look pretty beaten up. Komnenos, too, is feeling a little uneasy at the lack of Cylon presence; evidently the toasters are damned if they do, damned if they don't. He stands and begins to walk himself, although he remains close to his original position, sketching a short guard pattern in the rubble-strewn streets.

Damon's eyes turn towards the sound of the door and the movement, widening only slightly at the sight before him. His expression remains the same…neutral. Staring, he glances over Salazar's body, pausing to look over the damage to her. "…girl's got more lives than I do." He says under his breath, turning his eyes to watch Kai. He simply stares between the two of them, turning his gaze then towards the street as if disinterested. He stands and heads over to them, looking to Salazar as he approaches. "Four weeks of listening to people talk about gardening, you owe me, bitch." He doesn't smile, but his inflection doesn't sound it off as an insult. He shoulders his rifle to help with her transfer. Then he says something veiled to Salazar. "They know."

As there's confirmation of the soldier's identity, Dmitri plants a hand down against the car's rusted hood and shoves up to his feet; the rifle's barrel dropping down once he's certain (at least -mostly- certain) that there's no targets that need to be eliminated with prejudice, he steps around the vehicle and moves to cross the street at an unhurried pace. "Must've been your work I found in th'tower. Good job. Now let's get the frak out've this shithole've what was a city and back somewhere with decent sandwiches, people." A sidelong glance to Damon, a grunt, then he looks back to the rescuees and Thea.

"Captain!" It's called out as the woman jogs over, Kai's gaze swiveling and fixing steadily upon the woman as she approaches. There's even a rare grin from him. Tired, but genuine. "You're a sight for sore eyes. I can walk, but Salazar's in bad shape." He doesn't bother introducing Biker Chick. He trusts in Legacy's powers of deduction. "Ensign Roubani." A glance to the young man, terse and difficult to read as ever, and then it's back to Thea again. "We shouldn't stand around out here. Where, precisely, is 'back'?" He's bruised, battered, but overall not doesn't look too much the worse for wear.

"Damon, can you take Salazar," Thea asks quietly, watching Kai more than she watches the woman. "Thorn, you and the Private are going to take point. I'll take rear guard with Thorn." Thea looks, well, relieved - but she doesn't spend a lot of time relishing it. "Let's save the reunion for when we're back under cover. And back, Captain, is a nice little spot our hosts have opened up for us, just a couple hours from here. It'll be rough, but we can make it back tonight."

The tattooed woman's dark eyes flick to the redheaded Captain. Dark brows arch slightly, and her gaze roams the group. "Let's catch up on the way to cover." The words are clipped, and would be more forceful, except for the shallow breathing. She really doesn't look to healthy. "… I owe you shit. Carry the packs." She's so friendly. "I've got some momentum. We should use it before the morpha metabolizes." She's pretty much leaning on Karim as it is. If he were any taller, she'd probably be cutting off his air.

Roubani glances at Damon, then back at the captains reuniting. He's silent, which is nothing out of the ordinary, his attention continuing to swivel slowly around their surroundings. Then back to the group. As their detail is handed out he gives a terse nod and steps aside, ready to move.

With Kai and his new friend safely out of the building, the group coalesces once more. Komnenos nods to Thea, and with a hand signal to Sunshine begins to chart the path back out of the city. He pauses long enough, though, to cast a subdued "Good t' see you back, sir" Kai's way before assuming the point position.

Moving to take the packs and shrug them onto his strong back, Damon doesn't grunt with the weight. While he's not a muscle man, he is quite strong. Rifle hanging on the lanyard around his neck, he moves to support Salazar as they move. "Old man died." He says simply, keeping his voice a whisper as he prepares to help Salazar move on the way back to the bunker. "His girl's taken charge of the group. Some farmer with a dog reads newspapers apparently." He pauses. "It's good seein you, Salazar."

Kai doesn't bother arguing the orders being thrown around, despite the equivalency in rank. It's just simpler, this way. His eyes remain on Legacy for a beat or two more, and then he's relinquishing Salazar — gently — to Damon's care. Packs relinquished as well, he briefly checks his rifle's loadout before falling into step with the group. "Feeling's mutual, Thorn," he answers the ECO tersely.

A shrug from Dmitri, and he turns then to start back the way they came; moving at an almost casual saunter for the time being, keeping to cover along their route.

Moving. Roubani falls in at rear guard behind and slightly to the right of the main cluster, walking as they do. His rifle stays at ready, a position it's not going to leave for the next few hours, prayer beads gently swinging on his left wrist as he walks.

And so Thea settles into formation, not too far behind Salazar - ready to catch if need be. "Move out, people. The faster we get back, the faster we can get some of that venison stew." She's moved into a position near Dmitri. "Got a good bit to catch up on," she says as they move, keeping her voice low. "If I'm not mistaken, good work on the main tower. We got two on the outskirts and have wireless - for a bit. I'll fill you in on the rest once we're back. Passi's at base. In bad shape, but she's alive."

Salazar manages not to grunt or assault anyone as she's passed from Karim to Damon. It takes her a moment to get a good one armed grip on the taller man. "I forgot how much you talk," she says to the dark skinned man. One spends a couple weeks alone, and then a few days with Karim Marek, and one forgets these things.

Roubani glances at Damon, then back at the captains reuniting. He's silent, which is nothing out of the ordinary, his attention continuing to swivel slowly around their surroundings. Then back to the group. As their detail is handed out he gives a terse nod and steps aside, ready to move.

With Kai and his new friend safely out of the building, the group coalesces once more. Komnenos nods to Thea, and with a hand signal to Sunshine begins to chart the path back out of the city. He pauses long enough, though, to cast a subdued "Good t' see you back, sir" Kai's way before assuming the point position.

Moving to take the packs and shrug them onto his strong back, Damon doesn't grunt with the weight. While he's not a muscle man, he is quite strong. Rifle hanging on the lanyard around his neck, he moves to support Salazar as they move. "Old man died." He says simply, keeping his voice a whisper as he prepares to help Salazar move on the way back to the bunker. "His girl's taken charge of the group. Some farmer with a dog reads newspapers apparently." He pauses. "It's good seein you, Salazar."

Kai doesn't bother arguing the orders being thrown around, despite the equivalency in rank. It's just simpler, this way. His eyes remain on Legacy for a beat or two more, and then he's relinquishing Salazar — gently — to Damon's care. Packs relinquished as well, he briefly checks his rifle's loadout before falling into step with the group. "Feeling's mutual, Thorn," he answers the ECO tersely.

A shrug from Dmitri, and he turns then to start back the way they came; moving at an almost casual saunter for the time being, keeping to cover along their route.

Moving. Roubani falls in at rear guard behind and slightly to the right of the main cluster, walking as they do. His rifle stays at ready, a position it's not going to leave for the next few hours, prayer beads gently swinging on his left wrist as he walks.

And so Thea settles into formation, not too far behind Salazar - ready to catch if need be. "Move out, people. The faster we get back, the faster we can get some of that venison stew." She's moved into a position near Dmitri. "Got a good bit to catch up on," she says as they move, keeping her voice low. "If I'm not mistaken, good work on the main tower. We got two on the outskirts and have wireless - for a bit. I'll fill you in on the rest once we're back. Passi's at base. In bad shape, but she's alive."

Salazar manages not to grunt or assault anyone as she's passed from Karim to Damon. It takes her a moment to get a good one armed grip on the taller man. "I forgot how much you talk," she says to the dark skinned man. One spends a couple weeks alone, and then a few days with Karim Marek, and one forgets these things.

Scorpia - Bunker

Thorn doesn't have any new wounds, luckily enough, but he does take a moment to check on the old. The crisscrossing scars on his face are healing well enough, although it's likely that one or two of them could leave a permanent mark. His shoulder wound is also shaping up nicely, although it'll still be a while before the bandage can be completely removed. All in all, though, he's been more fortunate than some. Instead of leaving directly, though, he lingers; first a look over to Ivory's bed; the Raptor pilot is still lying comatose, exactly as he was when Thorn last left him. He notices Sam stirring, though, and he makes his way over to the side of her bed. "How goes it, Case?" he asks softly.

Samantha blinks as she hears Kai's voice. And Legacy…it was a dream, she almost thought. She half expected to be back in that damned haunted diner again. But no, she had found the crew… and they'd found Spider! Pain or not, the lieutenant gives a pale lipped smile as she pushes herself into sitting straight using her good arm, eyes still almost drugged with sleep. "…Captain!…thank frakking god… good to see you…. seems this planet is good at producin' miracles…" And then she gives a drowsy green eyed look to Salazar…"and you got a dame with you… and she's hot… even if she ain't lookin' so hot…" Sam's backwater Gemenese accent is all too clear in her half sleepy state. She then looks up to Thorn, a hint surprised he's come to check on her… and a bit touched. She gives him a slightly softer smile…"hey, handsome…'sgoin'. Still breathin'…better than yesterday… I'd say it's damned good. And you?" She asks of Thorn gently.

Roubani is still wearing that wireless pack. On their way back he was still sending those constant SOS signals on Colonial band, as he'll likely keep doing through most of the night. Ultimately futile or not. His eyes shift to Legacy and he gives her a slight nod, then much like Thorn his attention goes to the downed Timon. Nope, their argument about human nature's going to have to keep waiting. There's a flicker of something in his eyes that's pushed back down, and he leans back against the wall, looking silently over towards Sam as she wakes up.

Kai, again, shows little reaction to the orders being given. He's certainly not standing about idly; once the rifle's slung off his shoulders and set down, he's helping with shifting Salazar to a bed. Gods only know what sort of state of shock his system's in right now, after the ordeal he's been through. But he's alive, and as pilots often say: whatever you walk away from. "Let me rephrase, Captain," he tells Thea, voice unchanging, "what sort of medical assets do we have at our disposal right now?" No smiling. No 'good jobs'. Maybe later, when his mind's had a chance to catch up with everything going on. Samantha's voice draws his attention, and there's a flicker of warmth in his eyes when he glances over at her. "Good to see you too, Case."

"We have a Surgeon, Lieutenant Alyssa Odysseon. She was caught out during the attack. There's one paramedic and a few folks who are versed in first aid," Thea tells Kai, pulling up a bit straighter. "The Resistance folks have been taking care of medical issues." There's a faintly sheepish look on her face. "Lieutenant Odysseon will, no doubt, be here in just a moment." Her pack gets dropped in a corner and then she's straightening again.

Reunion, reunion, reunion, grasping for clemency, medical attentiveness— right. Dmitri hops back down from the crate, shoulders rolling back in a slight stretch before he heads for the door. "Cerberus, heel," he orders, calling over in almost afterthought, "Lemme know if you need me for anything, cap'n. I'm catchin' some sleep."

Thorn's hand waves vaguely toward his face, and his lips quirk in a little half smile. "Seen better days, myself." Suddenly, he flushes a bit, clearing his throat; probably an insensitive thing to say, given the state of the woman before him and the fact that, as he noted earlier, he's been fairly lucky in the injury department. "Doing pretty well, though, all things considered. Glad t' finally have all of us back in one place, and mostly in one piece," he continues, his smile turning rueful.

Roubani's pack is tugged around and balanced on his good shoulder, unzipped and dug through. They'd brought rations and supplies with them, after all, that are now unloaded and put back with the larger stock meant to go to those who need them more than the ambulatory. There's nothing said to anyone, eyes focused on what he's doing until it's done.

Damon looks between Kai and Legacy, his words unresponded to. That quiet, expressionless stare from his eyes sways between the two of them as he continues to be a sentinel against the wall. He ashes his cigarette out the doorway, the ashes fluttering to the floor. "Later Dmitri." Damon says, looking to him before his eyes turn back to the room. "Miracles…" He says with a bit of sarcasm to his voice at Samantha's words, shaking his head quietly. "Captain, you never answered my question." He looks to Thea. "What's the policy?"

Samantha nods quietly towards Thorn, not seeming bothered by his words even if he's flushing. She sinks back into the bed, though, some part of her body deciding that sitting up right now is just not really all that wise an idea. She's content to lay there, on her side again, watching everyone with half sleeping eyes. "Yeah, miracles… say all of us together in one place… alive, for the moment… that's a pretty frakking miraculous event…" And her eyes trail over to Roubani for a moment, thoughtful, almost searching for those beads she knows he wears. The beads she remembers spilling all over the deck, broken, when he nearly died himself… how the crew scrambled to put them back together…She watches him thoughtfully, but doesn't speak. Finally, she gazes back to Thorn…"should try gettin' some rest, Thorn… we all should. Too damn nice and quiet here. Like a tomb…" It's not entirely clear now if she's drugged and rambling or just that tired.

Kai nods curtly to Legacy, and then finally seems to become aware of Damon's remark toward him. Has anyone even introduced him to the guy? Probably not. "Sure." His voice is terse, guarded. He's no Black Cat, that's for certain. While they wait on the surgeon to arrive, he busies himself peeling clothing off the inert Salazar. Which might be cause for a few choice words from the woman, if a) she was conscious, and b) she wasn't shot the hell up. His right hand is bandaged, though it looks mostly healed by now. "We need to contact Kharon, before they put the transmitters back up," is offered flatly to Legacy.

Legacy looks up to Damon and offers a faint smile. "It's something to be discussed," she says quietly. "I'm not an expert on law, so it would have to go through the JAG." Then her attention turns back to Kai and she nods, once. "There's a rotation attempting to contact the Kharon now, Sir," she says quietly. "Ensign Roubani and one of the civilians have been alternating going to locations found by Mr. Alexandros," she nods to where Dmitri has taken his leave, or is taking it. "So that the Cylons cannot triangulate to find us. Standard calls going out on all known Colonial frequencies."

Roubani is of course wearing those dark little wooden beads. They're around his left wrist, partly visible above his ripped jacket cuff. His eyes shift back to Kai and Legacy as they talk about contacting the Kharon, watching them levelly.

Words aren't the only think Karim would be enduring if Salazar were conscious during the disrobing, medical or no. Her leather best, jeans, boots, and delicates and bandages are the only items on her person. That and a lot of tattoo coverage. She's liberally covered in blood various places that weren't mopped up when cleaning wounds. It's probably just this side of amazing she made it those 2 miles before she passed out. Cannot be much blood left in her.

Damon's eyes fall on Kai, watching as he starts to undress Salazar. Those eyes fall down to her laying form and then back to Kai, calculating in silence. Blinking slowly, he replies to Legacy as he observes. "I didn't help those people survive and get your people to those caves so that I could be executed as a thank you." He nods towards Salazar. "This girl knows the facts, she can help me, so I'm not going to let her die." Strong words from a convicted murderer. As to whether it's a veiled threat could go either way. His eyes shift to Samantha. "I don't believe in miracles. There's the shit we get ourselves into, and the shit we get ourselves out of." He looks back to Salazar, his eyes are clinical. "Your doctors need to shake their asses. She ain't looking too good."

"Can't deal with either kind've shit without food'n sleep. You're no doctor. Go get it." It's a few obvious bits of advice dropped from Dmitri's lips before he slips out from medical with his dog— presumably to seek out one, or the other, of the two things he's just recommended.

"I'm not sure I put much stock in th' idea of miracles… but I'd be hard pressed t' argue with you on that one," Thorn replies softly. It's a major concession from the firmly agnostic ECO. "The chips seem t' have fallen well enough for us — since the crash, rather." His attention, too, shifts over to the pair of captains, but only briefly. He nods to Sam. "Not a bad idea." Almost involuntarily, he yawns. "Be nice t' be back in a bed, anyway." He reaches for her shoulder with what passes for a reassuring smile. "Get some rest yourself, y' hear?" With that, he's stepping slowly away from her bed and turning back towards the higher-ups. "Captains, unless there's anything else, I'm going t' follow the lieutenant's suggestion and hit the rack."

Dmitri heads through the exit labeled <FH> Front Hall.
Dmitri has left.

Kai's brow raises slightly at the 'sir', though he doesn't comment upon it. His eyes cut toward Samantha, and then back to the more severely injured Salazar while they wait for the doctor. "Sounds like you've got everything in hand, Captain." He'll give praise, it seems, where praise is due. "Is the Chief with us?" As for Damon, the man earns a second, more critical looking-over from the viper Captain. "There may be room for leniency, in times like these. I'm afraid it's out of our hands, though. You got a name?" Komnenos is merely given a nod. Acknowledgement or permission, you decide.

"Well…miracles or not… we're here. Stable, fightin'… we'll figure it out. Rest well, Thorn…" Sam calls gently after the ECO ahead of her, not getting up out of the bed yet. She must really be hurting as she hasn't sprung across the room to make some sort of smart remark yet. She's content to remain laying down and curled up, about to say something, lips parting… but then she just swallows it back and shuts her eyes, going quiet. Maybe sleep has simply taken her again

Roubani settles somewhere near Timon's sleeping/comatose form. The wireless pack is unhooked from his belt and held in hand, thumb absently tapping it. He turns it over, looking at the panel in the back, and then up at the ceiling. Thinking, if the tension at the corners of his eyes say anything.

Thea's posture is relaxed as she converses with Kai, for the most part. She seems fairly comfortable with things as they are. "I'll go make sure the doctor knows we have wounded," she tells him quietly. "Then I'll be in the mess hall, when you're ready for the sit rep. Chief's with us, unhurt. Ivory's in stable condition, though hurt badly." She can't help her eyes cutting over to Timon, then they turn back to Damon and Kai.

"And you, Case." With the nod from Kai and nothing from Legacy, that seems to indicate that there is indeed nothing else. Komnenos doesn't leave immediately, though. He stops quickly by Timon's bed, offers a few murmured words to the unconscious pilot and a small smile for Roubani before he finally goes for the door.

"It's not out of your hands." Damon says, giving Kai the jailhouse staredown. His hand is resting on his belt buckle, precariously close to his pistol although he seems to be making no move for it. He continues to smoke. Breaking the stare to ash his cigarette, he looks to Thea. "I have to decide before I'm presented with the opportunity to get off of this barren rock whether my chances are better with the Cylons or your firing squads. I kept people alive, some of them your own soldiers. You can give me your word as an officer you're going to vouch for me, ontop of everyone else." He looks back to Kai, eyes serious with a predatory sense to them. "My name's Damon Cavalera."

"Lieutenant." The one word from Roubani to Thorn suffices for 'good night', spoken quietly as always.

Kai's eyes rove toward Timon as well, then back to Legacy. Come to think of it, he's.. really not looking so good, himself. Those last few miles they walked, were probably done on fumes alone. "Right. I'm going to check on Case as well, and I'd like a word with you and the Chief, in the morning. What you're doing is good, keeping the cylons off our backs. But we're going to need to find a way to boost that signal, if it'll have any hope of reaching Kharon. A communications drone would help-" And then Damon's speaking to him again, and his gaze swivels toward the man. "We'll discuss it in the morning, Mr. Cavalera. Hold your horses, and get some rest. I'm not planning on handing anyone over to the firing squad. I think enough of us have died, don't you?"

And so Thea reaches out, lightly touching Kai's sleeve. "It'll be in my report," she tells him quietly. "We have a drone. Ensign Roubani and one of the civilians have been working on it. They just got it back here a couple nights ago. We've only just gotten the bunker up with power. I'll make sure that Lieutenant McTiernan is aware you're here as well." The tone is gentle and quiet, relaxed. "I'll bring some stew back here for you so that you can eat before you get rack time." Yes, she's worried - but she's not badgering the CAG about his injuries.

The Raptor Captain pauses and looks at Damon, as if something just clicked for her. "I'll vouch for you," she says simply, quietly. "We'll talk more in the morning."

Roubani continues to regard the ceiling as they talk about the drone. See, ceiling? Told you so. He draws in a breath through his nose that rolls his shoulders straight and looks down at Timon, regarding the downed man for a while with an expression that is, as usual, tough to read. Then he looks back at the wireless, hanging it back on his belt.

Damon stares at Kai, his eyes solid and unmoving. It's hard to stare without your eyes moving a little bit, and that thousand yard stare is evident. "That would be unfortunate if you mean that and have to watch them mow down yet another human, especially if I decide to put faith in your planning." Damon says in reply, watching Thea move over to him. His eyes find Roubani as well, watching the man. It's almost like he's casing the place for a robbery. Then, with Thea's words, he looks to her and nods. He's going to fight this execution order, that much is apparent. "I'm going to be staying in here. Salazar and I go back. Consider this place guarded." He stomps out the cigarette, moving to sling his pack against the wall and lean against it. The convicted murderer having just decided to stay close to the most vulnerable people in the bunker, fully armed.

Kai hesitates for just a moment with the touch on his sleeve, then finally nods to Thea. He watches her for a full five or six seconds before closing his hand over her arm, and squeezing it. "All right. I'll meet you down there in a few minutes. I hope power means running water." It's entirely possible he's more interested in a shower, than in food at this point. And then, blunt as ever, "You need sleep. You look like shit, Thea." It's spoken with an odd.. tenderness. And then he's slipping past, to stop off at Samantha's bedside. "You know," he tells Damon, meeting his gaze for a few moments. He, too, has mastered the art of the unblinking stare. "You can drop the tough guy act. Unless you want me to start breaking out the bad jokes."

Roubani's eyes shift without any movement of his head, making eye contact with Damon when the man looks his way. Then at Kai and Legacy for their tender moment, then back at Timon.

Thea's lips twitch just a little bit as she looks at Kai, though one of her trademark smartass remarks isn't forthcoming. With a nod to Roubani and Damon, she follows Thorn out.

"I guarantee you that I've killed more people than you have, Captain." Damon says, closing his eyes as he starts to relax. He doesn't even respond to the words by looking at them as if he's purely unafraid of every last person in the bunker. Scratching his jaw as he settles in for some rest, he shakes his dreadlocks to keep them away from his face. "Just keep Salazar alive and get me that stay of execution, and you and I can be friends. I can tell you what it's like to be ready to die without having the benefit of going down fighting."

Thankfully, there's no scathing retort from the Kharon's CAG, either. In response to Damon, that is. Kai merely looks faintly amused at what's said, and brushes Samantha's shoulder with the tips of his fingers before moving away again. "That a fact?" he retors to the dreadlocked, bristling man. He meets those eyes again briefly; the Captain's not so much unafraid, as he is even-keeled and difficult to get a rise out of. "We'll talk in the morning." Threat or promise, he nods to Roubani with a small smile, and turns to make his way out at a limp.

Legacy heads through the exit labeled <FH> Front Hall.
Legacy has left.

Komnenos heads through the exit labeled <FH> Front Hall.
Komnenos has left.

Neither nod going Roubani's way gets one back. Whatever guard between himself and the rest of the room he's set up in his head is fully charged up. He keeps his eyes on Timon, mind doing whatever it's doing in there. Gods know what he'll be babbling about tomorrow.

Damon looks to Kai, keeping Roubani in his peripheral vision. Lighting a new cigarette, he slides his foot along the floor to rest against the wall, knee propped up with his elbow hanging over it. "I make no bones about the fact that this is going to be a leap of faith, judging the safety of your own folk versus the good of the few. I look forward to the conversation." Damon says, knowing well what he's going to have to explain to them. The hardest sell of all is he's not the type to beg. He props his rifle on the wall beside him and nods again to Kai. "Sleep well." He offers, turning his gaze to Roubani. "So which one are you, what's your callsign?"

"You too. And you, Ensign." Kai cuts his eyes toward Roubani again, then Salazar for a few concerned moments as the doctor finally rushes in. His help isn't needed, and would probably only be hindering at this point. Plus, he has a report to hear and some planning to do. So, off he goes.

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