Sauced
Sauced
Summary: Kai and Komnenos discuss the ECO's side project, and they encounter a drunk Castor.
Date: PHD124 (August 21, 2009)
Related Logs: Work in Progress
Players:
Komnenos..Kai..Legacy..Castor..Sparro..

Seems like Thorn was just here, doesn't it? After a brief detour to the berthings for his fatigues jacket and some other odds and ends, Komnenos emerges into the ship once again. He pauses by the hangar deck stairs, leaning against a nearby wall as he reaches for a cigarette.

Kai, on the other hand, is just trotting down those hangar bay stairs, in full flight gear with a helmet tucked under one arm and a notepad in the other. He swerves when he reaches the bottom, narrowly missing colliding with Thorn. "Evening," he greets tersely, with a look askance to the younger man.

"Thorn. Sir." Wil says, making his way down from the hangar deck with his flight suit pulled down to his waist, as he eventually catches glimpses of them both. Unless he is stopped(well, -ordered- to stop), he proceeds around the corner.

Willem even manages a salute for Kai, too!

Thorn's mind is wandering, it seems, as he totally misses the sound of booted feet clanking down the stairs, and he begins moving again just in time to nearly slam face first into Kai. The collision is narrowly avoided by both parties, though, and Thorn even manages to avoid losing a hold on the folders in his hand. However, he's unable to avoid spewing a cloud of cigarette smoke in Kai's face as he exhales in surprise. There's a stricken expression on Thorn's face as he stops, spine stiffened and shoulders squared. "Sorry, sir," he mumbles abashedly.

Faceful of cigarette smoke. Lovely. There's a rough-sounding cough or two to clear his airways, though Kai doesn't seem particularly pissed. He starts off again, then doubles back, notepad tucked into one of the numerous pockets of his flight suit. "I seem to recall you needed to talk?" Willem's salute is returned, in abbreviated fashion.

Thorn acknowledges Wil with a nod, but nothing more, as he's suddenly found himself preoccupied. "Yes, sir," Komnenos replies promptly, his earlier timbre restored, and his eyes staring straight ahead in the position of attention. "You asked for regular reports on my work with the simulators, Captain," he continues. He looks at Kai briefly as he hands the CAG one of the folders, before resuming that blank stare right over the top of Kai's head.

It isn't like it's difficult for Anton to stare right over the CAG's head, either. He's got a good four or five inches on the man. And to make matters even worse, Kai tends to slouch. The folder's accepted and flipped open in his free hand, its contents perused far too briefly to gain even a passing understanding. "I did. Thank you." It's flipped closed again after a few seconds. "Walk with me. I'd like a high-level overview." And he starts off without waiting for a response.

Thorn looks after the CAG for a moment before falling into step aside him. "Very well, sir," he responds in a flat tone of voice as he catches up to the man. There's silence for a moment; Thorn isn't a man easily intimidated, but he seems somewhat reticent in Kai's presence. Finally, though, he begins to speak. "As you know, Lieutenant Price designed the new templates for the aggressor craft. I've finished coding the new algorithms for both Raiders and Heavy Raiders into the system, and have started t' debug them as well. There's still a few kinks in the system, but I don't anticipate any unsurmountable difficulties."

"Heavy raiders?" Kai repeats with a slight inflection upon the first word. Maybe it's a term he hasn't heard before, though he doesn't seem adverse to it. His boots strike the deck heavily, and slightly off-beat when the left comes down. Most likely wouldn't notice the limp, unless close attention was being paid. "How much intel have you been able to gather on their weapons and armour configurations? I imagine those will have factored into your calculations."

"Um. That's what I've been calling the larger Cylon ships, the ones that carried the boarding parties that attacked us a few weeks after Warday," Thorn manages to explain. "Have t' call them something, what?" He clears his throat, returning to his impromptu briefing. "They seem t' be analogous to our Raptors, though geared more t' the transport role than th' combat support role. They're heavily armored, and can carry weapons, but they seem t' be used more commonly as Centurion lorries." Thorn's become familiar enough with the information that he no longer needs to consult his notes to answer the CAG's questions… a good thing, as his notes(such as they are) are currently clasped in Kai's hand. "As for the Raiders. The ships we've been encountering are a step above what they had in the last war. Slightly faster, moderately more maneuverable, and more heavily armed. Like the First War-era ships, they mount two kinetic energy weapons similar in design t' our own, but they also are equipped with missles, which their predecessors did not have." He cuts himself off abruptly as he suddenly realizes he's fallen into a lecture.

Kai continues walking while Thorn does the talking, folder tucked under one arm now while the pair soldier on through the bowels of the ship. There's a rhythmic crunching of his flight suit to accompany each step. "When I said high-level overview, Lieutenant, I was hoping for a few less grey hairs by the end of it," he points out drily. Just a small dose of his usual deadpan humour, though it'd be easy to interpret as chastisement. He comes to a halt by the door of the viper berthings, and turns to face the taller ECO. "You've done some good work on this. And you know your shit. Don't forget to relax, once in a while." His lips twitch, just a little.

Was that, like, a complement? Sounded like it. After a fashion. "I've been told I have a tendency t' ramble when it comes t' reports, sir." Thorn replies abashedly after a moment, quirking an eyebrow mid-response. Just as Kai's statement wasn't quite a reprimand, neither was that quite an apology. He stops as the CAG turns to face him, and Kai's gaze is met by his own. "But… thank you, sir." The complement is accepted gracefully, if a bit stiffly. "I'll try." His eyebrow crinkles again. "Once in a while."

Kai doesn't smile. But that little something still lurks at the corners of his mouth; amusement, though not at Komnenos' expense. "By the way, I'm going to be borrowing your pilot for a little while. I promise I'll return him in one piece." And just like that, he's back to his usual stoicism. A step back, toward the hatch. "Enjoy your evening, Lieutenant." Then he turns, and reaches for the wheel.

Thorn clears his throat as Kai turns away. "About that, sir."

Kai pauses, and glances half over one shoulder. It's not quite enough to meet Thorn's eyes.

Down the hallway to berthings comes Thea, her arm through Castor's and a rum bottle in her free hand. It's not immediately visible if one is holding up the other. "We'll head into the Raptor berthings first," she tells him quietly.

"I already heard that from him, Captain. He's been at me for EW lessons." Another not-quite-smile flashes across Thorn's lips as he says that. "The circumstances of his, ah, 'borrowing' aren't my business, I realize. But the fact is, sir, while Lieutenant Stathis is on… detached duty, as it were, the squadron as a whole is short a pilot." Thorn's voice gradually slows as he speaks; he's suddenly not quite as in his element as before. "I just wanted t' note that I do possess pilot's certification for a Raptor."

"Actually, I'll be piloting for Lieutenant Stathis," the CAG corrects somewhat blandly. "So it's the Vigilantes that'll be short a pilot." He's turned more fully to face Thorn by now, blue eyes briefly seeking blue. "You'll continue to backseat for whomever Captain Legacy assigns you to in the interim, though your offer's noted."

Castor is drunk, it is clear from his movement and from his expression. He turns to look at the disappearing Thea, "You said there would be a party?" He then frowns, "So I misunderstand one thing and this is it?" He frowns slightly, "Fine…." He says amicably but a wee bit hurt toward Thea's direction. He then turns to look at the converation already in progress. He then looks at Kai, "Sir, I possess a pilots certification for a Raptor but then again I'm Red Squad. I have double trained too but we are all where we are, sir." He then squints at Kai, "Sir, I think my mouth got me in trouble again…I misunderstood something because you have a fan and well….it got out of hand?" He then in his drunkenself says, "I asked you for a shirt and you said no but I'm afraid if I don't produce said shirt bodily harm might come to me after this." The last part was a little bit of pleasing.

"Right, then. Of course, Captain," Thorn replies crisply, if perhaps slightly crestfallen. "Just… thought I'd make it known." There's an odd look over at Castor, then back to Kai.

And here comes the hooch patrol, right on time. Karim's brows furrow slightly as Castor comes stumbling past on Legacy's arm, attention drawn to the drunk viper jock— as a few other passing crewmen's likely are. "We'll talk about it once you've had a chance to sit down and chill out," he answers mildly. "And I don't need any raptor pilots, but thank you anyway, Leda." There's another flicker of amusement in his eyes. Komnenos merely receives a curt nod, Castor a slap across the back of his shoulder, and the Captain heads once more for his squadron's berthings.

Castor looks at Kai, "Sir, permission to sleep until I wake up for CAP?" Yup Castor might be three sheets to the wind, possibly four but he knows his command and he appeals to it. "Sir, remind me when I am sober to be very sorry for making you unhappy." He then looks at Thorn, "Seriously, I would love to help you but your boy keeps throwing me out…and by boy I mean Timon….I did my best….good luck with his moody self." He then looks at Kai, "He isn't suicidal but perhaps we need a memorial space, something to mark those who have gone before us in order to keep us humble?"

"Leda… what th' frak are you talking about, throwing you out?" Komnenos asks the obviously drunk pilot with a slight frown. His voice falls to a mutter. "…get a few nips in him and 'e kinna shut up…" That's probably meant for just himself, but isn't exactly inaudible. Then he looks over to the other captain, the one babysitting said drunken pilot. "Captain," he greets her shortly.

And foiled again. Kai's hand rests on the hatch wheel, but doesn't spin it yet. "Permission granted, Leda," he murmurs. The pilot probably manages to make it to the word 'Seriously' before he's interrupted with, "Lieutenant, get some godsdamned sleep before I club you over the head and drag you in there myself." And then he's REALLY leaving. After a brief, and undoubtedly bemused glance shared with Legacy.

Fresh off some well deserved bunk time, Sparro saunters out into the hallway and looks around, surprised to see the little party going on. "There something wrong with the ready room, Captains?" He asks in his usual cheery tone.
Ad with that Castor is out in his state of drunkeness because let us be fair he messed up a moment in one of his friend's life unintentionally and this means he needs to withdrawl and hate himself for a moment since he dosen't want to bring harm to anyone on this crew. With that he moves to his bunk and that means bed.

Thea's not disappearing anywhere. It's probably Castor's drunkeness acting up again. She's still got his arm, attempting to lead him past the trouble zone. It's like a tugboat trying to guide a recalcitrant barge. She shares a look with the CAG, but it's very brief before she's turning her head away. "It IS a party," she tells Leda quietly. "C'mon. Party's in the Raptor berthings tonight." She keeps her eyes down.

"Nope," she tells Sparro on the way past. "We're just going to a…party." She gives him a wry little grin. Thea's the one with the bottle.

With a minute shake of his head, Thorn steps over the threshold into Raptor berthings as the crowd begins to grow. It sounds like he won't be alone for long, but oh well. Sounds like there might even be booze in it somewhere. He goes through the hatch, a trail of cigarette smoke following him as usual.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License