The officers enjoy an ice-breaker party, then find out it may be the last for awhile.
Location: Scorpia Shipyards Officers' Club
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 703
A week after the floodgates opened and crew members started arriving in earnest, the powers that be have decided to start some organized team-building activities - the first of which was just an ice-breaker social. Yeah, toss a bunch of people from all different colonies together in a room and tell them to play nice. What could go wrong? With thousands of crew and critical jobs to fill, it was obviously necessary to split the parties into multiple shifts. This one is geared towards the Wolfpack pilots and some other various officers. The shipyards officer's club is not too different from the Galactica's rec room, only the digs are a bit more posh. There are the usual amenities - cards, pool, vids, darts, tables and comfy couches. And of course there's booze from a nice, well-stocked bar. Which is where Major Kallas is currently sitting, keeping an eye on things as people start filtering in.
Of course Van Newton is in his blues. Anything less would be uncivilized (to him). The Picon pilot does not head straight for the bar, instead, his first destination is the vidscreen serving as a 'window,' taking in the expanse of the shipyards and the new battlestar docked with them. He lets out a low whistle as he studies the sight, "That is one big beast." The words are mostly to himself, but it's not like they're muttered or not.
The way to get through these things is alcohol. Eli's uniform is a little bit wrinkled, like it wasn't folded correctly before packing, or it got shifted. There's a bit of a dent in one sleeve. He stands in line for booze, then orders a double of something strong. Once he has a drink in hand, he glances around to take in the room. This will either be a boring evening, or too interesting for comfrt.
So she'd heard something about a party, and you know, the implied, 'You should really go and play nice,' so here she is, in her dress blues, because if that doesn't say party, what does? Eva, not being a drinker, doesn't bother with the queue for drinks, and instead heads over to find a place to set down and do a good bit of people watching. She passes close enough to catch Van's words, "In a few months we'll be climbing the walls wishing for more space." She decides on a couch that will give her both a good view of the room and an easy escape route through what looks like a rear door. Or possibly a broom closet. Time will tell.
Calliope is here for the party. She's dressed in blues. Jacket a bit rumpled, but they're clean (and new). She gets in line, behind Eli, considering his drink of choice. "That any good?" Well, it has a lot of booze, so she says, "I'll have what he's having."
Despite her earlier comments, Antonie Niemec has also arrived in her duty blues. Not dress blues, no. That'd be a bit too stuffy. But the duty blues are at least recently pressed, even if she's undone a couple of buttons. Casual, but not too casual. Professional, but not too professional. The woman is a bit delayed, but she's excusing herself by having taken a few side trips for an impromptu tour of the shipyards. And to have caught some glimpses of their new posting through what viewports she could find. Hands retreat from pockets as soon as she steps in and spots the Major. Ahem. Nope, no slouching about here, sir! Not yet, any way. The brunette finds herself at the bar as well and, after a brief look around the room, procures two cocktails. Something with enough liquor to be strong, but enough juice to make it drinkable. There's a nod for Eli and Calliope both as she passes the two away from the crowded bar and towards the couches. There... well, there Squeak claims the cushion next to Eva in the name of Tauron and extends one of the drinks towards her. "I believe empty hands are a faux pas here."
Kallas picks up his drink once more of the officers start arriving. Taking a sip, he moves a little down the bar to where Calliope and Eli are standing. "Nice digs they've got here, eh, Drake?" The unfamiliar Eli gets a polite nod.
"It's a double shot of bourbon. How can you go wrong with that?" says Eli to Calliope. "I don't trust mixed drinks at these things. Too much room to water it down." He takes a swallow from said strong drink. His eyebrows raise at Kallas and he gets a nod. "If it were up to me, I'd put Scorpia in my rear-view mirror and watch it get infinitely smaller."
Ramsay enters the O-club in the middle of the first wave. A fancy black with writing embroidered on it covers his right eye. He is currently wearing his Navy Blues, a bit wrinkled, as though they've seen a long day's usage. Just inside the door he sidesteps to the right and stands just in front of the bulkhead. He scans the room, his eye moving from person-to-person, the furniture and finishings. It lingers a bit on the bar, the Major, and those taking refuge in liquid courage. "Yeah. This is a good idea," he sighs under his breath. A bit louder, but still to himself "Let's do this."
Van glances over to Eva at her comment, shrugging slightly, "I feel bad for those in engineering and tactical then. At least we'll be able to get outside every now and then." There's always one jerk who shows up with starched creases in his pants and all the lint rolled off his uniform, and at this party, that jerk is Van Newton. Still, at least he's apparently willing to move on from viewscreen to bar, waiting long enough to get through the small crowd, "Golden Harvest Lager if you have it." He gets a bottle, which he collects in his left hand, then looks about, offering a nod to Eli, recognizing the officer from before, another to Calliope, perhaps having seen her around the berths, and then draws himself up that infinitesimal extra bit to offer a more formal nod to the CAG.
Calliope looks a little wide-eyed when her boss starts talking to her. But she shoots him a chipper smile, and retrieves her drink when it's served. "Yeah, it's pretty sweet. Sir." She takes an experimental sip of her drink. "Bourbon's good. So. Nothing to bitch about right now. Are you that eager to blast off?" That question to Eli. She spots Niemec enter, giving the at least vaguely familiar officer a quick nod. And another to Van.
Eva looks up, as Niemec walks over to the couch and secures a seat, "I have a feeling there are a lot of faux pas here." She accepts the drink with a smile, and holds it gingerly. No point in letting her hand warm up a perfectly good drink, "I've got the watch after a while, but I got the memo to play nice." So here she is, "Speaking of which, how went the recon of the station?" She looks over to Van, "Well, I've heard they have ways to keep themselves amused, but it usually required multiple trips to the dispensary." If you know what she means. As Van wanders off, Eva looks to the bar, a momentary downturn of her expression, before she returns her attention to Niemec.
"Milkman." Kallas responds to Van's nod with one in turn. Then there's a glance at Eli. "Don't think we've met. Diego Kallas." He shifts his glass to his other hand so he can extend his right for a shake. "And I have to agree. More time we spend here, more time everyone has to start crawling the walls."
There's a nod in return for Calliope and a "sir," for Kallas. Just to cover her bases, right? Niemec takes a long sip of her drink, one shoulder rising and falling at the question. "It's more... utilitarian than I expected. I guess I'd hoped that civilian contractors might have a more fun sort of joint set up. Perhaps a real bar. Or... something. If they do, it's not obvious. I may have to do a second scouting mission before we ship out. You should join me." There's a bit of an elbow-jostle for the other pilot added at the end. Mindful of their drinks, of course.
"Eli Cadmus," says the doctor as he shakes Kallas' hand. He offers his hand to Calliope in turn while answering her question, "Mhm, yeah. I've been stationed at the military hospital on Leonis. It's not exactly dull there right now, but I prefer to be on the offensive." Which might seem like an odd thing for a doctor to say.
"Yeah, guess when they expanded the place for the Battlestar program, building up the rec facilities wasn't high on their list," Kallas agrees with Niemec. "Still better than what's on the Galactica though." He shakes Eli's hand and then nods, lifting his glass. "I'll drink to that. Leonis, huh? What department are you with?" He can tell from the lack of wings that he's not a pilot, but that still leaves a lot of open ground.
"Sir." Van will eventually have to unwind a little, but right now, he's still firmly in 'proper' mode, despite the slight grimace at the use of his callsign. He also extends his hand to Calliope, "I think I've seen you around the quarters, but we haven't been formally introduced. Van Newton. The Wolfpack." And that's why he took the bottle in his left hand--evidently he's had some training in social mixers, although the Academy ring on his left hand might explain that.
"Leonis?" Calliope perks some at mention of the colony from Eli. "I used to lay over there all the time, back when I was a commercial pilot. Though I imagine it's not quite as nice a place to visit right now." She shakes his hand then adds, to him and Van and all and sundry, "Calliope Drake. Yeah. I fly Raptors. Or I will. Mostly I've been getting my paperwork situated the last few days." She gives his hand a shake, once she's done with Eli's. "I think I've seen you around. Viper guy, yeah?"
"I'm a surgeon," says Eli to Kallas. He motions to the others to move a little distance away from the bar so as not to back things up too badly. He's not exactly...gruff tonight, but he's not radiating warmth, either. And then, as he raises his glass to his lips, he comments, "You flyboys are everywhere. It's practically an infestation." He says that with a wry little grin before tipping back a sip of his bourbon. "Not many places that are nice to visit right now," he replies to Calliope.
Eva rocks gently, at the jostling, a flash of a grin brightening her expression, "I would have gone with you today, if I'd known you were going. Instead, I was in the berthing finishing your doily." She shifts the drink from one hand to the other, so that she can slip a hand into a pocket, "I imagine they're hoping that we'll get in and get out as quickly as possible. On Virgon, most civilians are only too glad to see the back of us." She leans in, eyes looking in Van's direction, "Why is he giving me a nugget vibe?" She glances to Niemec, "I haven't seen a back that straight since I was lining them up on the first day of Flight School."
Public appearances are for the birds. Jia purses her lips and takes a deep breath to settle her nerves, eyeballing the group gathered with a faint moue. "It's only a few people, see?" She reaches the drinks and manages to fumble one into her numb fingers without spilling everywhere. Clutching her prize in a death grip with one hand, she flicks her hair out of her face and pauses within a foot of Van while scanning the group for a face that might look familiar. Her gaze lingers on Eli for a moment longer than necessary as if perhaps--perhaps?--they have met.
Kallas steps away from the bar when Eli does, sipping at his drink. "I guess you drew the short straw of being ambassador to the fliers," he jokes to Eli. "I came up through Leonis too, actually. Foreign Legion." There's a glance at Calliope. "We'll get you flying soon enough. This is your first assignment out of training?"
Van steps aside those few paces as silently suggested by Eli, even as he nods to Calliope, "A pleasure. Yes, I'm a Viper jock. although I flew Raptors with the ICJPK before I transferred." To Kallas's question, he adds, "If so, welcome aboard." Glancing over to Eli, he adds,"There aren't actually that many of us, Doctor Cadmus, it's the egos, you see." A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips, "They tend to be large enough that it seems like there are more of us than there actually are." He glances to Jia as she pauses near him, offering a polite nod and looking back to the others, only for a puzzled frown to touch his brows and for him to do the Colonies' slowest double take. "Excuse me, you look vaguely familiar, ma'am, have we met?" Lamest pickup line ever, if that's what it is. "Van Newton, originally of the Picon Navy."
Social gatherings have been uncommon for the aquarian mingling with the other officers here, but Durant still finds some enjoyment in them by keeping up idle chats and getting to know more of the colonies he has not visited while flying. The crowd he was here with dispates, and now he finds himself with hands clasped behind his back and moving about to try and pick up on some nice tales and whatnot. He observes the liquor servings with mild interest before he starts scanning the masses again.
Someone is asking about assignments. "Yes," Jia blurts, only belatedly realizing the question isn't directed toward her. In fact, nobody is looking. Good, she can die in peace, then. Slightly mortified and blushing, the young doc downs her entire drink in one go and comes up gasping for air just as Van looks her way. She coughs into her hand and glances up to him, eyes watering. "Huh? No. Um. Ah, hi." Stepping in closer, she clears her throat in the desperate attempt to keep from coughing again. "Asa. Jia Asa, originally of 'not the military.' No, we haven't met." Her eyes widen a trifle as she takes in Van from head to toe and back again. "At least I don't think so."
"I can't believe you made me a doily," Niemec says, grinning at Eva. "But next time, I'll make sure to warn you." A sip of her drink and she's following the redhead's gaze towards Van. There's a brief snort of amusement. "He's a jig, so not quite a nugget. Maybe new to the rank. Ensigns usually go a bit overboard on the first promotion." She shifts on the couch, trying to get a good angle of the viewscreen masquerading as a viewport. Window to... the Galactica herself, in dock. Letting the pilots see... well, something some of them have already seen, if tapped for CAP or shakedown runs in the Mark IIs. Maybe it's for the liaison officers, like Eli over there. Squeak crosses one leg over the other and brings her gaze back around. Reviewing the room before leveling on Eva. "Have you gotten a chance to take out your bird yet?"
"I guess so," says Eli to Kallas. He notably does not volunteer colonial information as the subject comes up. To Van, "I wonder how many of us served with the ICJPK. It'd make sense, since there's not many other ways to gain real front-line experience. Well, until every assignment turned into a front-line one." He is not exactly a battlefield or spy master, but there's a primal part of the brain that recognizes when there's eyes on. He turns, spots Jia, then arches his eyebrows high. He faintly recognizes her as well - likely from assignment briefings, but it's not really clicking in to place. He's suddenly grateful for Van's pick-up line. "Ah. Medical too, right?"
"Yeah. Right," is Calliope's reply to Eli, as to the tourist appeal of /all/ the planets right now. She drinks her bourbon. Nodding to Kallas, after a beat of hesitation. "Yeah. I mean, I've been flying since I got out of university but it was all, like, commercial stuff. Not military. Thanks." That last to Van, for his welcome. "I'm just glad to be done with training and actually /doing/ shit."
Pilots. A Doctor. Egos and More Egos. Ramsay steps away from the bulkhead and moves through the crowd in the general direction of Niemec and her couch. "Relax," he says when he's close enough to her. This will be fun." He pauses, then adds in the Tauran tongue "Like a Cylon at a wedding reception."
As it so happens, the 'nuggetry' talk going around manages to catch Charles attention and a soft smirk draws over his face before he makes that section of the gathering his target. "Mr. Newton." He pats his arm very lightly and then surveys the people he is with. "Evening, ladies and gents," is his general greeting for those fortunate enough to hear his aquarian-tinted voice.
"Well at least you've got more flight time than most," Kallas reasons to Calliope. "Got a couple rooks that've never flown outside of training." Jia gets a brief smile, but then Kallas is murmuring an, "Excuse me," and wandering off to mingle with some of the other pilots in his squadron.
Thankfully, Van hasn't just taken a sip of his beer when Jia introduces herself, because otherwise he would be doing a spit-take. His eyes widen and his brows shoot up none-the-less, "Asa. Any relation to Specialist Isolde Asa?" His right hand hovers a moment, as if he were going to pat her back to help with the throat-burn, but... well... he just used the worst introduction-line ever, so he's not going to overstep his bounds. Letting his hand drop to his side again, he glances back over to Eli, "Also, those willing to volunteer for the ICJPK, or those who have already experienced inter-Colonial cooperation within it, might be more apt to volunteer for the Colonial Forces?" Nodding to Calliope, he advises, "That's when it gets dangerous though. Well, more dangerous. Stay within yourself, don't try hot-dogging, stick to the book, and I'm sure you'll be just fine." He did say he was a Viper pilot, right? Because that's about the most un-Viper-pilot advice ever. Durant's approach draws Van's eyes over to him, and he hesitates a moment, searching for the name, "Lieutenant Durant, right?"
"Once I see what the inside of your raptor looks like, I might decide you need more than one." That could, quite possibly, be a threat. Eva nods, looking back to Van briefly. "That ring though. Now that could be put to good use in a fistfight." She turns her eyes away, as she catches sight of Ramsay coming their way, "Nice to see you again." Hopefully, the politeness will cover the fact that she's forgotten the man's name. Maybe she'll get lucky and somebody will call out to him in her earshot. "Not yet. Although somehow, I've ended up Duty Officer on the deck half a dozen times."
Lifting her chin as Ramsay approaches, Niemec lifts her cocktail in greeting for the man. "Oh so much fun. Do you think the bar can handle carrier landings and if so, can we get the dear ol' Major to go for a round?" Why yes, she does say this just loud enough for Kallas to hear. The woman lowers her drink and is juuuust about to take a sip when the man adds on the tidbit in Tauran. She snorts into her glass and is grinning as she finally takes that drink. "
"Uh. Yeah," is Calliope's very vague affirmative to the CAG about her flight hours. She attempts to look all of confidence. And drinks some more. "This bourbon is tight," she comments to Eli. A thanks for the drink recommendation. Van's advice also gets an "Uh." But she nods to it, giving him a little toast. "Right. I'll keep that in mind. Sir. Thanks. So where all were you stationed? With the Inter-Colonial forces."
Durant nods to Van, "Correct." He again clasps his hands behind his back and lingers for a bit.
"Medical! Yes, I am. That's where I've seen you." Jia offers Eli a flash of her teeth in a brief grin, and she reaches out to touch his arm for a moment. Her attention returns to Van, however, and her brows arch upward. "Ohhh, yes. That." Hah, that. She heaves a quiet sigh. "Yes, Isolde is my sister." Younger or older? She's not saying. Instead of elaborating, Jia takes another sip of her drink and lapses into silence as Durant joins the conversation. Her smile of greeting is polite, if distant, and she bobs her head in welcome. "Where are you working, then? Surgeon, right?" The questions are directed toward Eli and accompanied by the lift of an eyebrow, and she crosses her free arm over her chest and tucks the hand beneath her elbow. The fingers of her left hand tighten their grip around her glass.
Kallas's trajectory it taking him over to the couch where Niemec, Ramsay and Eva are gathered. "You want me to get you another round?" he echoes, having only half-heard the remark. He looks more amused than anything. "Evening Cherry, Squeak." Ramsay gets a nod, though he notes, "Don't think I caught your name the other night, in the laundry."
Ramsay just grins at Niemec. "Why am I not surprised?" He tilts his head and turns his eye towards Eva as greets him from a moderate distance. "The Laundry, right?" He pauses, pulls both lips between teeth for a half-second as he thinks. "I'm sorry. I was tired and frustrated that night, and haven't had a chance to stop moving much since then. I don't remember if we exchanged names. Ramsay. Iosif Ramsay."
"Always go with the straight liquor. You have to learn to pace yourself, but it's usually a more pleasant experience all the way around that way," says Eli to Calliope. The arm-touch by Jia creates an eyebrow-raise from him, but he doesn't address it directly. "Yeah. I've got field hospital and ER experience. Yourself?"
"Kallas, right?" Ramsay changes focus seamlessly from Eva as he extends a hand to the CAG. "Nice to meet you under more ideal circumstances."
Van takes a sip of his beer, responding first to Calliope, "Sagitarron. Only a six-month tour for me." And then he can look back to Jia, "Oh good, then I'm not going insane. Welcome aboard then, although I suppose we aren't actually aboard the Galactica." There's a pause, "Does she know that you've been transferred aboard, Doctor, right?"
Eva is in dress blues, so she should salute. But this is a party, and that would look stupid. So she just sets aside her drink, still untouched, and settles forward on the couch, elbows resting on her knees. "Evening, Sir." To Niemac, her answer, "If they couldn't, they probably shouldn't have let all the pilots come in at once." As for touring her raptor, "That quick, huh? Disappointing." A lift of her shoulders, "If you'd believe it, I'm not really that enamored of flying fast. It's just my job."
Durant listens to the exchange in silence for now. Happy to just gather intel from the group young officers. He looks to Jia, to hear her reply.
There's a shrug for Ramsay as Niemec lifts her drink for another sip. Sure, that may be a coy little smile hidden there. But Kallas, ahhh, good ol' Major, he's offering drinks. The woman casts a look to hers and its half-empty state. "Another drink would be fantastic, sir. Something with whiskey, perhaps." But to Eva, there's a glance and a slow curl of lips. Something wry. Something definitely flirty. "Well, that's just for the literal tour. But I'm sure you'll want to set aside more time." Ahem.
"Residency stints in gen-prac, ob-gyn, and oncology before I copped out and went psychiatry. All the 'scripts and none of the hassle, but it took a damn long time anyway." Jia salutes Eli with a lift of her empty cup, but rather than fetching a refill she merely clutches the glass to her chest like a lifeline. Her attention flickers back to Van a second time, and she half-turns her body to face him more fully. "Does she? I think she knows by now, but we haven't run into each other yet. You would've heard the shriek from miles away otherwise. I would've gone looking for her by now, but I don't want to be a bother. How do you know my sister?"
"Yeah, Kallas," the CAG answers, shifting his glass so he can shake Ramsay's hand. "Good to meet you properly. What department are you with?" Eva's remark gets a look. "A pilot who isn't enamored of flying fast? Inconceivable." He's joking. Probably. With that deadpan smirk it's hard to tell. Moreso when he replies to Niemec, "Whiskey is fantastic, I agree."
Calliope lets out a low whistle when Van mentions Sagittaron. "Damn. Bet that was quite a hitch. My routes never exactly took me to Sag. I few for a tour company. Hyperlight Fantasies. I went back and forth to Picon a few times, actually. Seemed cool. Great clubs in Queenstown. You're a shrink?" That last to Jia. "Damn. I could /never/ do that. I can barely listen to my own problems most of the time."
"Gods knows we need a head shrinker on the boat," says Eli with a shrug. "And I'd think being a generalist would be an advantage in this day and age." He looks around the assembled, tosses back the rest of his drink, then asks, "Anyone want a refill?"
Jia thrusts her glass toward Eli with a jerky motion. "Please, yes."
Ramsay releases Kallas handshake, then holds his arms at waist level. Fingers spread wide, he waggles both hands at the wrist. "It's complicated. I'm officially attached to Operations, but I have a weird dotted-line over to Security." He shrugs. "What I actually do is Intel. But no one is quite sure where that belongs on the current Colonial Forces Org Chart."
Durant lifts a brow as Jia details her medical dossier almost completely. "Impressive," he calls out and then shakes his head to Eli as he offers drink refills. To those paying attention, he is sans any drink.
Van listens to the doc-speak between the two medical professionals with the same polite, glazed-over look that they listen to the pilot-speak between the stick-jockeys. At least it gives him time for another couple of pulls at his beer. He nods to Jia, "I don't know if she knows. But I was her escort after her lecture at the Picon Naval Academy before the toasters got uppity. She's helped me with a few computer issues since I came aboard." Looking back to Calliope, he nods, "Actually, Sagitarron was quiet for me. Some SAR, a few quiet evacs, and some CAS." Beat pause, "Search and Rescue, evacuations, and close-air-support." That would be for the doctors. His lips twist in a faint grimace, "All milk runs." Which may have something to do with the callsign the CAG addressed him by. "Unfortunately, most of the time I spent in Queenstown was PT after Hyperion."
"Not much future in fast flying. I had hoped to be able to fly commercial once I retired. Raptors would have been more useful. But ask me again in five years, when I'm on my way out." Eva's elbow reaches out, nudging Niemec's side, "Don't be giving away all of your secrets now. What would be the fun in that. Besides, I don't know a thing about being an ECO, so three'd definitely be a crowd."
"I did say I was with the ICJPK, Lieutenant. No need to translate," says Eli to Van with a grin. He's a little startled by Jia's glass-thrust. "Uh. What's your poison? Nothing...too strong, I bet?"
"It's a Raptor. Plenty of space. Pilot, co-pilot. ECO behind us, asking if we're there yet. Plus all the marines- really, it's so much more roomy than your Vipers." Niemec does grin, with the nudge. She lifts her glass to drain the rest, leaning past Eva to cast a glance towards the bar. "I'm tempted to get a drink to go and see if I can find anything else of interest on this place before we all get shuttled back after the field trip." Dark eyes slide back to the redhead, brow arching. "Interested in joining me?"
Calliope nods to Van, eyes sombering when he mentions Hyperion. "I did most of my training back on Caprica, though I pulled the last few months of it here. Part of this inter-colonial thing. So we'd all be buddies, I guess." She chuckles, and drinks on her bourbon. She's not quite ready for a refill yet, glass still containing about a third of its original double.
Kallas leaves Eva and Niemec to their conversation, focusing his attention on Ramsay instead. "Sounds complicated," he agrees. "Much simpler over in the Air Wing. Fly planes, shoot toasters." He smirks at that and takes another sip of his drink.
"I think he was translating for me," Jia murmurs apologetically to Eli before relinquishing her glass. Her eyebrows go up again, and she glances to the cup before looking back up to him. "No, not strong. I really don't drink much, but..." But she's in a room full of strangers, most of whom seem to have this military gig in the bag, and the pressure is mounting by the moment. She clears her throat and runs her fingertips over her lips. "PT? What happened?" Her gaze slides over Van a second time as her lips curve down into a slight frown. "You look fine."
Ramsay chuckles. "And I'm the guy supposed to tell you where the toasters are, how many of them to expect, what types of craft they'll be flying, what we know of any specialized tactics that particular group of tin-cans has developed, if they have a known objective you should be interfering with..." He pauses. "I say that like I don't enjoy it. But the truth is that I do. Very much so."
Eva in her normal voice: "Are you there yet?" Eva in a slightly breathless voice: "No, not yet!" The redhead cracks up, looking momentarily undignified, before she gets to her feet, expression sobering, "How about we just pick you up something, sir?" That to Kallas, before she chucks her head in the direction of the bar, "I'll grab a few bottles of water to combat your dehydration." She'll wait for Neimac to join her, if she plans to, before she heads for the bar.
Kallas offers another smirk to Ramsay, with a pointed 'you're right on' finger at the intel officer. "Like you said, complicated. But good stuff. We'll need it for sure. All the better that you actually enjoy it." He looks over at Eva. "I'm good thanks, still working on this one." He holds up his glass - whiskey, maybe - which is not quite empty.
"Well!" It's a rather bemused declaration from Niemec at Eva's response. "We'll just have to take care of that." Ahem. Hey, it's a social mixer, right? Better to be flirting in that devil-may-care way of cocky pilots than coming to blows over a disagreement. The brunette does push to her feet, giving a nod to Kallas. "Sir." And for Ramsay, there's a pointed finger. "So you're to blame if we end up ambushed. Got it." The wink at the end? She's joking, truly. Departures to those nearest aside, she sits to follow Eva to the bar. Others are given greetings if she hadn't seen them yet or tones of 'catch you later' to those she had. The woman comes to a stop as the PA comes on, chin lifting a bit as she listens. Her lips press into a line. Tauron. As if they didn't have enough problems already. The woman does look back to Ramsay, but it's fleeting. She doesn't jump to volunteer, no. Some of those cheers may be from pilots who can run off to do the busy work. Right?
Eli is just refilling the drinks when the announcement comes over the conn. He frowns, tosses back his drink, then steps over to press a glass of wine into Jia's hand. "You all have a good night. I'm going to head back to the ship. If we're heading into the fray, I want to make sure the medbay's ready. I'm sure you all want to do that, too. Besides," he drawls, "I've about reached the limit of being on my very best behavior."
Durant looks up as the PA comes alive and listens to the admiral's update. A look over to his timepiece and he begins adjusting his alarm.
Van nods to Calliope, "I think it's still a work in progress." Eli's grinning words cause him to smile faintly, nodding and gesturing over to Jia, "I didn't know how involved either of you were in the active operations. So noted, Doctor Cadmus." He gestures down to his right leg, "Took some shrapnel at Triton, and shredded my ACL and MCL on landing." And then the PA comes on, Van bracing even more upright and looking up toward the nearest speaker. Before the Admiral is even done speaking, Van leans back to set his half-empty beer on the bartop, and while he does not cheer at the announcement, he nods sharply, looking to Eli, Durant, and Jia, "Looks like we're all going to have to be on our best behavior, until we share our worst with the toasters."
Ramsay listens to the announcement. A look of sadness mixed with resolve crosses his face when the Admiral mentions Atray Province. "Early briefings are going to be the norm for a few days." He touches the roughed up teddy bear on his belt and speaks softly. "I'm coming home, Abby. Maybe I'll get to see you. Forgive me if I don't. " He gives Niemec the same look she gave him, meeting her gaze for a micron, but not making eye-contact.
Kallas hops down off his chair after he's delivered the proclamation. He leaves his glass on an end table, not even bothering to finish it off, and glances to Ramsay. "Looks like we'll be needing that intel sooner than we thought." The teddy bear gets a brief, perplexed look, but then he's moving off toward the door, to organize his volunteers.
"That's really not for me." Jia accepts the glass from Eli and offers him a nod as he excuses himself. She tosses back the glass of wine without skipping a beat and sets it aside for someone else to clean up. "But this is as good an excuse as any, I suppose. Nice to have met you both." With a last glance around, she tugs down her shirt a bit as if to straighten it, swipes a finger below her lower lip out of habit, and takes advantage of the sudden surge and shift of people to mill with the crowd before heading toward the door.
Eva stops, as soon as the PA comes on, doing that weird thing that everyone does, which is to look up in the direction of the voice, "Why does this sound like the opening line of a -- something that is not greek -- tragedy?" She takes a breath, "I don't mind going back. Maybe I might actually find my bird before I actually have to fly it." She waits to see if Niemec agrees to come with her, if not, she'll give the other woman a brief grin, before she heads off with the CAG.
Calliope adds a "Woo" to the cheering just to be part of the crowd, though it's not overly spirited. She does finish all of her drink in one gulp, once the announcement is over. On that note, she goes to get more booze.
It does mean leaving her next drink behind, but Niemec leaves a word with the person tending the bar. Perhaps a promise for a couple fingers of whiskey before they ship out. The woman does, however, accept a bottle of water. She cracks it open as she settles in at Eva's side, taking a long drink. "Well, let's go find your bird. I know where all of Wolfpack sits on the flight deck, so it won't be too tricky to figure out which one you've been assigned-" a glance towards that view screen. "Maybe even get a good look over her after we help the CAG, yeah?" There's another quick look about the room, at peoples' reactions, before she's aiming for that exit.
Durant is done setting his alarm and nods silently to the folks he was with before he makes his way out.
As the group around him fades, Van rubs at his right thigh for a moment, then steps forward quickly, moving to join Kallas on the way out, "I'll be one of the half dozen, sir. I'm still sober."
"Now you're just trying to get into my pilot's seat." She falls into step with Niemac, the two nearly of a height, which helps. She leans in, as she catches sight of Cadmus departing ahead of her, "Do you think anyone will notice if he doubles over from a kidney shot?" There's that heightening of her accent again. Something about the good doctor, "Sorry, something about him just gets on my tits."
There's a bit of a snort from Niemec at Eva's words. Former and the latter, perhaps. "There's more room in the Raptor. Those Viper cockpits are a bit more cramped than cozy." Another sip of water and she caps the bottle, lowering free hand to tuck into her pocket. "Doctors have their own brand of ego, Cherry. Frak if I know heads or tails of it, but you just gotta give 'em space. Let them do their doctoring thing and ignore the rest. Works well enough for me."
Ramsay slides Kallas' unfinished drink into his own hand and lifts it to his nose taking a sip. His face scrunches a bit, and he holds the drink and the scrunch in place for about half a minute before raising the glass high overhead. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he declares loudly to the room. "A toast." He pauses giving those who want to give him their ears a moment to do so. "To Unification. To the Taskforce. But, mostly, to kicking some Cylon ass." He empties the contents of the glass in a single pull and heavily sets the empty on the same table he picked it up from and makes his way to the door.