Time and Place
Time and Place
Summary: Roubani visits the injured in Sickbay after the cylon boarding, and finds Castaine awake.
Date: PHD024
Related Logs: Ambushed

Kharon - Recovery Ward

For the most part the recovery ward is quiet. Visitors are at a minimum due to it being MRE handout time. All that's scene of Castaine is the mop of red hair down to her chin, the rest is covered up by the sheet.

Roubani ate quickly. Either that or he's just watching his girlish figure. Taking advantage of the relative quiet in Sickbay, he checks first on the sleeping Martin before starting down the row of beds on quiet feet, hands folded behind his back. At each bed he glances at the name written on the chart, following it up with a look at the face as though committing it to memory.

Castaine peers over the top of the white sheet when she hears the footfalls near the end of her bed. There is something clearly off in those wide hazel eyes as they look the pilot over. A little frown pinches her brows before she just offers a quiet, "Sir.."

Roubani stops when he realises one body is moving, and he rocks back on his heel before he can fully pass Castaine's bed. Having glanced at her ID on her chart, he's got the advantage. "Sergeant Castaine?"

Castaine gives a little nod of her head, "Yes, sir?" she answers, her voice a bite hoarse. She can't place him at all so she stares at him blankly. She curled up on her side, a pillow tucked to her belly, her head on a arm folded under her head.

Roubani clears his throat softly, a bit out of his element here. "I don't wish to disturb your rest." His voice is the type that's naturally soft-spoken, and would be no matter where he was. "I just meant to extend a little gratitude. To the Marines. I certainly would have been horrible with a rifle, myself."

Castaine's confusion is written all across her face as wide eyes watching him intently. She shifts a bit, a wince scrunching up her face. "um.. I think can be said in reverse, sir," she finally manages to get out.

"Perhaps," Roubani answers, shifting his weight to the other foot. His dark eyes glance at the beeping machines around her and then back at her face. "Do you, ah…need anything? From elsewhere?"

Castaine seems to think that about for a moment before she asks, "Do you have an extra spleen tucked away some where?" This seems to be the most humor she can muster at the moment. Then she blinks and tacks on, "..sir" as if she just realized she'd left the word off her question.
<FS3> Steele has connected.

Roubani's lips thin into sort of a half-smile. "I'm afraid I don't." He trails off, raising an eyebrow. "You don't really need a whole new spleen, do you?" He asks as though the thought both concerned and fascinated him at the same time.

Castaine gives a tiny nod of her head. Sadness sweeps over her as she lets out a small sigh. "No more marines for me," she shares with him. ".. which would be like you not being able to fly anymore."

Roubani is silent a moment. "I'm sorry." Trite words, but his tone is anything but. "What…will they have you do now?"

Castaine is silent for a very long time, her eyes just resting on him. Fear settles into those wide eyes as the sheet moves a bit with her shrug. "I .. I don't know, sir." She frowns a little deeper as she adds, "Spider offered to talk to Doc Pike about working in here so I can .. still help out."

Roubani nods once. "There are so many who have lost their sense of place." He pauses, then admits, "I wasn't supposed to be a pilot, if it makes you feel any better…things just sometimes happen as they happen. But you have valuable skill. No commanders in their good minds will let that go to waste."

"What were you supposed to be doing?" Mia asks softly. Maybe she needs to hear how things can turn out okay because the haunted look on her face screams how it's not going to be ok. Not ever.

"I'm an aerospace engineer," Roubani says, a little awkwardly. "I…had been doing this to have something on my resume while I applied for a doctoral program. That's where I was meant to be, where my heart was. It's wrenching to give that up, but I need to do what I'm needed to do. And oftentimes I can still be of use the way I had hoped I could be…it's those times I still feel fulfilled. I'm confident you will. More than confident."

Castaine listens quietly to what the man has to say and she even remains quiet for a time after as she digests it all. "I think you'll be putting those skills to use a lot in the time to come, sir. Someone is going to have to cross train people if we're to survive as a race and maybe you should talk to command about that. I can't image it's something that's learned easily or quickly."

"The same with you," Roubani replies, quietly. "You may be off the first path you thought you'd get to travel but you're still here, Sergeant. And we still need you."

Castaine nods a little. "I just don't -feel- useful." There is another nod as she admits, "I'm trying to keep the positives in mind, you know? The ship is safe, we're safe, there weren't a lot of pilots hurt.. we can recover. I'm trying but it's hard to keep that in the front of my mind."

Roubani gives her a pursed lip smile. "Naturally you don't feel useful. You're lying in a bed, and I expect that would make anyone feel like a burden. It takes action to make us feel we're alive. Yours is going to come back to you."

Castaine nods a little, "I hope so, sir. I truly hope so. If I can't, I'll go insane," she tells him bluntly. "Thank you, sir." She yawns, trying to hide it behind the edge of her sheet. "Maybe you could ask someone to get my guitar out of my locker, sir?"

Roubani nods. "I believe that can be arranged. There are so many guitar players on this ship…" The thought seems to amuse him for a moment, even he doesn't quite smile. A pause, then he asks neutrally, "Are you religious, Sergeant?"

Castaine's study of the man continues. She ponders the question carefully before she answers. "I believe in the Gods, sir. Mac .. that is to say Lieutenant Cygnus is my brother.. well, my adopted brother but still, my brother none the less."

Roubani nods. Moreso to the first part of her answer than the second. He unfolds his hands from behind his back for the first time since he walked in, sliding his fingertips under his left sleeve. Off his wrist he pulls a small set of wooden prayer beads, keeping his eyes down on them. "Well…here. In the event you feel the desire to use them." He reaches over and puts them down on her nightstand. "Get some rest, Sergeant."

Castaine looks rather surprised by the offer. "Thank you, sir! That's very kind of you." A hand sneaks out from under her barrier to rest her fingertips on the beads. "I'll return them, sir, as soon as I can."

Roubani pauses a moment. "Return them when you feel you've found your place again. However long it takes." His hands retreat behind his back again. "Be well, alright?" He nods to her once and steps back, turning away to head back for the hatch.

The Marine XO wakes up with a start, his last vision of consciousness was of destruction and death, his hand instinctively moves to his hip, searching for a side-arm that is non-existant. Both arms are bandaged, his right arm with just a gauge, but his left arm is a bit more serious, around his bare chest gauge tape is wrapped numerous times; the fragments that pierced his chest in a metal pan next to the bed.

"Good hunting, sir," Castaine offers in return to the departing pilot. Her fingers curl around the prayer beads then she pulls them under the sheet, holding them close to herself.

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