Eva and Niemec meet up at the pool. An offer is extended, and possibly accepted.
Location: Swimming Pool, Gym, Deck 8, Battlestar //Galactica//
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 867
The pool is relatively quiet at the moment, with the only sound the slosh of the water, which is minimal at best, with the ship docked, and the occasional sound of people padding through from gym to lockers and back again. Off to one side of the pool, about four feet out from the edge, a woman is sitting cross-legged on the bottom of the pool. In duty greens. Her hair is still tied back in its normal braid, but the red of it, and her features, even distorted by the shifting of the surface of the water is identifiable. She's just sitting quietly, hands folded in her lap. Obviously holding her breath, no daughter of Poseidon here.
It's from the locker room that Antonie makes her way into this particular corner of the gym. Past the hollering of the marines and the more buff-inclined pilots. The ones who think their arms do need to be as big as their legs. She's in a standard-issue swimsuit and flip-flops. The latter are kicked off by the cabinet with its towels. Niemec makes her way toward the edge of the pool, pulling her hair back into an elastic as she does. With toes at the edge, the woman stops and squints into the figure under the water.
Eva stays where she is, eyes staring straight ahead, the bubbles her her breath slowly rising to the surface. She remains like that for almost a minute longer, before she unfolds herself, moving fluidly to kick off from the bottom of the pool and surfacing, lifting a hand to wipe the water from her eyes as she takes a deep breath. Once enough of the water has streamed away, she noticed the stripped down pilot, "It's my lucky day."
By the time Eva surfaces, Niemec is shifting to sit down at the edge. Her legs are dipped in just about the time she's noticed. There's a twitch to the Tauran's lips in amusement. Like this, the tattoos on her right leg are also visible. Gamma, Delta, Pi, Psi, and Omega. "Did you forget your swimsuit today, Thorne?" Antonie shifts then, pushing off from the side so she can duck into the pool fully. Under once, then surfacing, smoothing back loose strands of hair.
"Breath training." Eva moved towards the edge of the pool, in order to let you use the pool for, well, what it's meant to be used for, "I thought about using my flight suit, but I didn't want to risk getting the CAG's pants in a twist. You run into him yet? Absolutely righteous." And that's said in a sort of fangirl sort of way, the way you might talk about a favourite pyramid player or actor. "Anyway, I've been trying to work on increasing the amount of time I can go without breathing." Probably a useful skill, if you find yourself in a damaged bird, with a potentially damaged suit, waiting for pickup.
"I spoke with him the other day," Niemec agrees, lips twitching into a slightly broader smile. "He said we can use the holobands in the ready room for some team building and situations. Also that we will be taking out the birds on some shakedowns soon." She pushes away from the wall, going into a backstroke. Easier to talk and a good way to slowly stretch into it. "If your helmet or air line are damaged. Not a bad idea to practice at all, no."
Eva moves to the edge of the pool, levering herself out, a feat made all the more difficult by her greens. Which is likely precisely the point. Still, she turns back to sit on the edge, feet dipping back into the water to kick idly, as she watches you do the real work. "You know, can I be honest? I've never really used a holoband. Seems like everyone else has, though. I feel like a Mooner." Which, true fact, she is. "Seems a bit too weird for me. But I suppose I'll have to learn."
"If I hadn't been in the navy," Antonie pauses as she turns, starting her way back, and unable to even catch a glimpse of Eva for a moment, "I'd likely have not used one." She finishes the second half of the lap and stops, turning to lean against the wall and look up at the woman in soaked greens. "I've only ever used them for training. Never got into the games or social parts of it. It's... disconcerting at first, but easy once you get past the weird of virtual."
Eva takes a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. As much as she seems to live her life with no filter on her mouth, it actually takes a concerted effort for her to speak, "The idea of seeing something that isn't real, or not being able to trust that what I'm seeing isn't just an illusion." She shakes her head. "I don't like the idea of feeling like my senses are betraying me." She frowns, "I mean, I know it probably isn't really like that, but it gives me the willies.
"I understand." Niemec listens and her answer comes after a delay. She purses her lips, letting them twist off to one side. "But it's probably going to be required. We have no simulators. Just holobands networked only to each other. If we want to train, it's what we have. And you know Kallas is going to make us train." She tries to smile a bit, up at Eva. "If you'd like, I can try to find a basic simulation to ease you in. But the 'weird' feeling usually goes away pretty quickly."
Eva kicks at the water, before she pulls her legs out of the water, trying to cross them again, but finding them now that her pants are clinging to her legs, a bit too touch to arrange, so she ends up with her knees bend, the soles of her feet touching. "Prunes." Her toes that is. She might have been trying to make it as tough as possible down there, but nobody likes squelching around in sodden boots. "I figure as much. I mean, it's not just the war, is it? All of the Colonies are going to be looking at us to gauge if all of this was worth it. We can't afford to make mistakes, or else they might not continue to fund this war effort." She returns the smile, a genuinely grateful expression, "I'd really appreciate that. It might be easier with someone there I can trust."
There's a glance at those feet and for a second, it seems Antonie might be priming to grab at one. She doesn't, though. Instead, she just makes a thoughtful sound. "I think they're looking at us for a lot of reasons. Is a Battlestar worth the money and the effort? Can the colonies truly work together? Will one try to take control of all the others? Are we Taurans, Hibernians, Cancerons... worth standing on the main stage, as it were?" At least Niemec manages a wry smile at least. She leans in, resting her chin against her forearms where they hold her up at the edge. "You feel you can trust me? That's just what us SAR types like to hear. I'll see what I can stir up. Maybe find us a program with a nice garden or beach to walk around. Something different than ship walls and relaxing."
"I think most of the Colonies, especially the ones that have, only recently, escaped their colonial overlords, are especially unwilling to cooperate. I mean, if you've only just secured your own borders and gotten acknowledgment of your independence, it must stick in your craw to have to go back to working together...especially with your former oppressors." Nope, she's not Hibernian at all. Said no one ever. "And then you have placed like Virgon, still smarting from losing their minions, angry they have to treat them like equals." She holds up a hand, taking a deep breath and holding off on whatever else she might have been about to say, "Well, you haven't killed me in my sleep yet, and it's not like I haven't give you reason." And then, more seriously, "Sometimes you just know good people when you see them." She grins, washing away that momentary seriousness, "Definitely a beach. I am seriously pasty. Throw in a fruity non-alcoholic drink, and I am sold."
"Not even my grandfather remembers us being under Virgon rule," it has been one-hundred years since Tauron broke away, after all, "but the colony remembers. It's in her soul. And Caprica trying to control where we went next..." Niemec shrugs, though the motion is awkward due to how she's positioned. "That's my worry. That this is all a bid by Caprica to take over. To lure us in to help with the war and utilize it to steadily place themselves in power over the other colonies. If they were willing to fund one side of a civil war behind the scenes..." She takes a deep breath, looking away. "Sorry."
Pushing back from the wall to tread water, the woman recovers a smile. "Beach it is. Give me a few days to make it happen."
"That's the problem really. With a number of the colonies. Just like Tauron, the remembered hate, fear, and adversarial impulse is just part of what it means to be from that Colony. It's damned near impossible to get over slights that have been ingrained in you." She pauses, "Look at Cookie. He didn't mean to, not sure he even noticed, but he spoke to me the way most Virgons speak to Mooners, Celtans, especially, like we're the slow, dim-witted children they have to hand-hold." She considers, pursing out her lips in thought, "But I wonder, as well, if perhaps some of the people from colonies and places like Hibernia are hoping that if they can perform well, they might be able to entice a larger, more powerful colony to help them win their freedom." She considers the comments on Caprica, "To be honest, I can't tell you for certain. But I know that that's exactly why we have to be doubly careful and keep our eyes out for things that would push them in that direction." Eva will take the lighter mood when it's offered, "That's something to look forward to. Speaking of, but not really, have you had a chance to even see your raptor yet?"
"It doesn't help that you have some colonials bragging about the number of volunteers they have. That's all well and good when your home has barely been touched by the war. But Tauron? Frak's sake, everyone who leaves to join this force is doing so knowing they may never see their home or family again. Knowing some of those people might consider them traitors." She lifts a hand from the water to scrub at her face, briefly dipping beneath. When Niemec surfaces again, she grabs at the wall. "My Raptor? Not yet. Seen the whole Wolfpack sitting on the flight deck, but I've not found my assigned bird yet."
"Seems like some colonials always need something to lord over someone else." Eva, of course, comes from just one of those volunteer heavy areas, but Niemec knows, they're not doing it for the bragging rights. "I'm sorry if that's the reality you're living with, Antonie." As uninformed as she is on Tauron culture and the current state of affairs, she can't comment much on it. But her tone, as she continues, is serious, "But if there is anything that I can do. My Da knows people who know people, we could squirrel your folk away somewhere. Keep them safe." And that's about as close as she'll go to actually stating any involvement with the Hibernian underground rebel movement. "We should check it out later, getting tired of just sitting around while the deck crew plays precious with our birds."
"They wouldn't leave," Niemec says after a moment, shifting to pull herself out of the pull to sit next to Eva. "The whole reason I ended up in the navy is because ranks tightened because of the cold war." Thanks, Caprica! "Community is strong there. Really strong. We keep and watch our own because we're all we have, y'know? It's not because we don't care about everyone else, but because we know if we don't take care of ourselves, no one else will." She draws her leg up to her chest, leaning against her thigh; fingertips falling against her foot. She uses it as an excuse to stretch. A little. "We should. Be nice to give her a once-over before the shakedown."
"Maybe not. I know my Da would never leave Hibernia, but just know that the offer is out there. Depending on how poorly this war goes, what you want to do and what you need to do could change." Even the most diehard colonial might not want to live on a Cylon wasteland. "I've got time to kill." It's still the honeymoon period, before the squadron is at full strength and they actually get their full schedules. "So I'm game if you are."
"It's possible," Niemec admits. She rolls her shoulders, casting a glance over to Eva. There's a bit of a grin. "Why don't you go find our assignments and I'll meet up with you. You'll need to change and I need to finish out my laps." She does make herself duck back into the water. "And perhaps raid the Mess for dessert after. Find some more cookies."
"I see how it is. Don't want me dripping all over your nice clean raptor." A flash of a smile, as she pops up, making only the barest of squelching sound, as she heads off towards the lockers, to grab her chance of clothes, "Meet you on the catwalk. We can plan our attack." This might just be the first salvo in the war between the deck crew and the pilots. "Mission Accepted, sir!" With her pile of belongs in her arms, Eva makes her dripping and occasionally noisy way back out to the gym.