2236-11-13 - After the Blooding (Part One)

Eva needs a sandwich. Niemec talks her down from the ledge.

Date: 2236-11-13

Location: Hangar Deck, Deck 6, //Galactica//

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 876

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The first of Galactica's new attachment has been bloodied. No one's injured and there's no major damage, but it's still brought out a lot more on the deck than strictly necessary. Onlookers, curious how things went in the first engagement for this flagship. Symbol of a unified force and all that fun stuff. Niemec lets Julia handle the interior checklist after signing out her station and steps out on the wing, pulling helmet off, to begin checking over the exterior. Deckhands are already moving over, primarily, to the second Raptor. The one with more obvious damage beyond shrapnel plinks and scratches.

The Tauran's ponytail has come a bit loose and a few hairs are plastered to the sides of her face from sweat. She hops down from the wing and starts circling the Raptor, making notes on a clipboard.

Eva is livid, and she barely gives the top time to pop, before she's hoisting herself out of the viper, and taking the short set of stairs the deck rolled over towards her. "What the frak was that? Five frakking minutes to get alert vipers ready? What the frak have the lot of you been doing while you've been keeping us out of your goddamned precious ships?" She doesn't give a frak that this deck crew is new, from different colonies or whatever the frak. She plunks down on the deck, still glaring at the deck crew. Her back is most definitely up.

Glancing up from her clipboard and over to Eva, Niemec blinks a few times. "Five minutes is pretty standard from ass to launch. Especially at condition two. We were just on CAP, Cherry. They're not going to be sitting and waiting in their birds." The Raptor pilot just looks tired, more than anything else. "But my guess is they might be from now on with CAP." Not that she knows for sure. Some of that hair is pushed away from her face as she ducks around the tail of her raptor, making a few notes about the state of the gun in the wake of things before handing the board off and making her way over to the redhead proper. "Five, ten, twenty. That's the standard alert lineup, yeah? Unless you've got 'em waiting in the wings. And I don't think we were expected to deal with something like that just yet. Plus-" she tilts her head to sort of indicate how some of the deck is scrambling. "We're still missing a large chunk of the crew."

Eva spins around, as Neimec walks over, "Seems to me that whatever alert level the ship is at, we were stationed just out of range of an active combat, Squeak. Maybe they do things differently in the Colonial Forces, but I'm used to the deck being alert and ready for anything, because we're going to be the ones going out there." Eva, despite the fact that she is still pissed, seems disinclined to take it out on the Tauran pilot, and she takes a deep breath, getting herself under control. For the most part. "There were two rooks out there, Antonie. And they took a beating. They gave us a two Viper CAP, that doesn't leave you any wiggle room when you've got incoming." She tilts her head, "You ever let "short-staffed" be an excuse for you not doing your job? I'm pretty sure not."

Julia clambers out of her raptor, helmet under one arm as she scrubs her fingers through her messy half-hawk. The backseater pauses when she hears the conversation between the two pilots, amber eyes cutting from one to the other, and back again to Eva guardedly.

"No." Niemec takes in a slow, careful breath. She reaches out to try to catch Eva's arm. To maybe angle her off to the side and off the flight line. "I wouldn't. But I'm also not about to piss off the deck crew this early in. We're all gonna be frakking up. Should the Ensigns have been divided up? One with me and Hooter with Drake? Yes. Definitely. But that's not on us. That's on the CAG. A lot of this-" she makes sort of a general gesture, "is people over our heads with a lot of shit on their plates. But it's not the squadron's fault nor is it deck's." She's tired, but she's trying! There's a brief glance and an upnod to Julia before the woman looks back to Eva. "I get it, I do. But we pulled it off and we'll pull it off next time. But you gotta take it out on the right people."

Julia knows well enough not to wade into this conversation. It's waaaay above her paygrade. "'scuse me," she mumbles, head down, and quicksteps on through to find a technician to hand her checklist off to so she can skedaddle.

Eva allows Niemec to pull her off to the side, and she even shuts her mouth long enough to let the woman get out everything she has to say, "That's the frakking problem, isn't it? There are no frakking right people. There's just us. And we're having to sit here taking all of the excuses they're throwing at us. We're not ready, we don't have everything we need. Frak sake, Antonie, we're at war. And I'm not going to chalk it up to most of these colonies have no idea what war is really like." She does manage to look a little conciliatory though, as she starts to calm down, and she glances over at the deck crew who are still looking at her like she's a crazy Mooner, "Sorry, I need a sandwich." Maybe she's just hangry.

"Yeah, we are at war. And most colonies haven't seen a war since before their grandparents were born. Fear fraks with people, Thorne. We file our reports with the CAG and let him take it where it needs to go. What we focus on? The rooks did a damn fine job today. Everyone survived. Our birds are barely scratched. Problems aside, it's a solid win. So I say we scrounge up a couple bottles of something or another to send to those two," Priya and Calliope, "and work towards making sure we all stay alive." Niemec steps in and reaches out a hand towards the other pilot's arm. She'll only tuck her fingers in against Eva's elbow if the woman seems alright with it. "Sandwiches sound good. And some coffee. Plus, I heard, before CAP, that there's some damn fine brownies on offer today."

"We're soldiers. We're not allowed to give into fear. If we were, we'd never get up in the morning." Well, that does tell you one thing about Eva, if nothing else. She pretty much lives her military life the way she flies. Complete balls (if she had them) to the walls. "I've spent the last fifteen year of my life waking up in the morning not knowing if I'd be alive at the end of the day, I'm sorry, I'm not big on giving people much of a lead." She shakes her head, "It doesn't matter. I'll make sure not to speak my mind the next time. Let go find them something to celebrate with. And I could eat a plate of brownies." She'll allow the brunette to lead her out of the room, lifting a hand to pat the woman's fingers, before she makes her way out towards the hall.

Falling into line with the other pilot, Niemec settles her fingers on her arm a bit more confidently. Heading for the catwalk and the nearest stairwell into further areas within the battlestar. "We were piloting birds before some of these kids had gotten out of training bras or had their first kiss. Just like the top brass were before us. Would I prefer it if everyone posted here had been previously involved in combat and proven? Frak yeah. But that's not the case. And I'm not in a position to dress them down, so I figure I'll just reward the ones that do well. Drake and Tarsis did well today. So we get 'em some drinks and encourage them to parade around the berthings. Extra incentive beyond punishments for people to get their shit straight." A pause, then, rounding a corner, and she flashes Eva a smile. "A full plate of brownies for you and half of one for me."

"Now you're just trying to make me feel old. Just because I'll soon be closer to forty than I am to thirty..." Still, she seems to have mostly gotten her her anger issues under control, "I think I need to read a few more manuals, or maybe do some inter-colonial sensitivity training. The few colonials I'm used to seeing were all tourists." She shakes her head, moving out along the corridor, and heading down to the stairs. She keeps a pace with the only slightly shorter woman, "You got a way to check in with your people?" Because it is Niemec's colony down there.

"Tourists. Hard to imagine. We saw businessmen. Investors. That was about it." Niemec at least is able to move quickly. You get that fast when dealing with people not only taller, but prone to teasing you for it. "Tisza. All warehouses and factories. Not the sort of place you take family on vacation." Her fingers at Eva's arm tighten slightly at the question and she sort of shakes it off after a moment. "Word will reach me. They know how to get information around. There's always someone willing to pass a note or a letter or a transmission." There's a glance over to the other woman. "Do you hear from your people much?"

"Virgon isn't make that much money anymore, as you can imagine, but as you can also imagine, King Kaeso isn't going to let anyone know that. So he's still trying to sell the colony as the next big thing. But nobody that comes to Virgon ever seems to tend to stay, so pretty much everyone is a tourist, whether they came to traipse in the forest, or whatever they do when they come to commune with nature," apparently, this is a real thing, "or they came to consider setting up some sort of business there." Eva pauses, stopping the pair about halfway up to the level of the messhall, a hand settling on Niemec's, "I'm sorry, Antonie. I just, want to make sure that I do whatever I can to help you keep in touch with people down there." She smiles, at the question, "I don't have people, just my Da, but he sends me letters every few weeks or so. We used to email more often, but that's sort of gone out the window now."

"Sounds like the usual kind of bullshit in the colonies. Those in power talking out their asses and it's us below who suffer." There's a bitterness in Niemec's voice, but it's not uncommon, no. Not of the trod-upon. The woman settles on her heels, managing a bit of a smile at the words. "I've... never officially served," she murmurs, looking down to the stylized sun tattooed on the back of her right hand, "but the Ha'la'tha consider me one of their own. They get word to me when and as they can. My grandfather wouldn't have it any other way and he may be old, but he's bastard enough." She leans a bit into Eva's shoulder. "No one's said the mail deliveries will stop, so we should still be able to keep in touch. And if not, I think both our families will know ways of making things happen, yeah?"

"Welcome to the life of a Mooner. There's a reason most of the people on Hibernia would be willing to die, if it got them their freedom. I think most of them would run off to the Foreign Legion, if it wouldn't mean leaving their families behind." She shakes her head, "You ever had to try to kill you own people?" Thankfully, Vipers tend to fight in space, so she's very rarely had to combat the Hibernian Resistance, "My Da called it being a silent soldier. Not all those who are called to fight do so on the front lines." Eva remains still, allowing Niemec to lean in, giving what comfort she's able, "I think we will...just, immediate contact might be more difficult."

"I haven't, personally, but I know those who did. Tauron went into a civil war once it got free of Virgon. Families were divided. Some provinces still hold grudges. But most... well, Caprica tried to help one side over the other, all in a bid, I'm sure, to take over themselves in the wake of it. We can band together in that, at least." Niemec manages a small smile, but draws in a breath. "It's why I took the vows in the Ha'la'tha. I went to academy and I've served my people that way, but... my grandfather, my father, my family. They've worked hard to help Tauron. And been willing to do things others aren't, even if they're... unsavory." Like kill. She draws in a breath and gives a nod, "Sadly, yes. Figures our common enemy has to be one that can infiltrate all of our networks and systems. We have to rely on the slow methods." Or short-wave radio, which doesn't help any of those dispatched on missions.

"Eva listens, as Niemec speaks, her expression obviously troubled. "I sometimes am afraid that as soon as we gain our own freedom, that the same thing will happen. It's happening now. Everyone wants to be the one who will lead Hibernia when we're finally free. Half a dozen people all laying claim to the rule of our ancestors. Even if most of us don't know more about where we came from than the stories we tell each other. And the things written in our books." Perhaps it might be different in other parts of the moon, but where Eva is from, there are no such lineages as Taurans might be able to trace. "Does make me wonder if there's a way we can use that against them. Not that we could risk it on this ship. But if they can infiltrate out systems, surely we can tr to infiltrate theirs, find ways to guess at what they're doing." She starts again, heading on towards the deck landing.

"It's not surprising. You fight so long to lead yourselves, some folks will certainly think they know the right way of it. For your sake, I hope they don't... if they gain independence." Because there's never a guarantee. And even then, it comes at such high losses... Niemec falls in step, shifting her fingers a bit against the elbow of Eva's flight suit. Nah, she's not letting go just yet. "Maybe. It's an interesting thought. I'm sure there's intel and tech people all delving into the possibilities. Me? I fly a fancy bus. That's all in a different paygrade."

Eva only offers a nod, at Niemec's comments about the pitfalls of independence. After all, what else is there to say that the woman hasn't seen, lived, and said already. Still, there's no doubt that she takes it to heart, "From your lips to the ears of the gods." She manages a laugh, as she heads with Niemec out through the hatch onto Deck 8. "What, you think that Specialist and Milkshake are the only computer nerds on this boat? I'll have you know I was probably educated in cyber operations. I know, all this and brains too."


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