2237-01-07 - How the Other Half Lives

Cate pays a visit to Isolde in Officer Country.

Date: 2237-01-07

Location: Officer Berthings

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 945

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Isolde Asa has been eyes-deep in studying, training, and keeping up with her half-time duty in the tech shop that she has not really had a chance to visit her berth unless she's going there to pass out. But, today, she actually has some downtime, so she's spending it reorganizing her locker. It looks like a small, but tightly contained bomb went off in her space with clothing everywhere, as well as random bits and pieces from the fabrication shop -- pieces she has no idea how they got into her stuff because she never takes things out of the tech shop. Right? She is frowning in confusion at a random bundle of wiring. "How did you even get here?" She asks it accusingly.

Cate is not in the habit of hanging around the officer berthings, but today she makes an exception. A quick question to an outgoing pilot gets her pointed to Isolde's bunk. Striding up to it, hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt jacket, Cate skips the usual greetings in favor of a dry observation, "So this is how the other half lives, huh."

"You mean in total chaos and on the brink of breakdowns every two seconds?" Isolde looks up at Cate, and she immediately offers a bright, dimpled smile. She rocks back on her heels, still considering the ball of wires in her hand. "I think I must have been sleepwalking in the tech shop again." She sets it aside, and starts to stand. "Hi, Stranger."

"Yeah but you get to have your breakdowns in bigger bunks. I mean, damn, look at these things. You can actually sit up. Maybe I should've taken that Navy commission." Cate smirks, not really serious. "I was beginning to worry that they were keeping you chained to a Raptor seat, so I figured I'd come check on you." She eyes the ball of wires. "What is that? Looks like a cat toy."

"More room to thrash around, I suppose," Isolde replies, tone thoughtful. Then she shakes her head at the concern, sighing. "Oh no... if I'm chained anywhere, I'm the one with the padlock." She shakes her head. "I'm basically one person trying to occupy two spaces, which we know is impossible according to the laws of physics." She offers a sheepish smile then. "I knew this would be rough, but I thought I wouldn't be so busy all the time." She then looks at the ball of wires again. "I think I must have taken this to untangle it, and forgot about it..."

"Thrash around?" Cate cants her head a little at the phrasing. "Bad dreams?" She offers a sympathetic nod to the busy part. "Well, you've got what - a year of flight school to cram into a couple months. Gotta be rough."

"Sleepless... sometimes I can't turn my brain off." Isolde then nods to the bunk beneath her. "I don't make too much fuss... Newton is my bunkmate." She actually looks a little sheepish at the medic. "It wasn't on purpose, mind you." Then she shakes her head, bouncing the ball in her hand a few times before she stands fully and looks at Cate. "I'll make it through... I want to do it. Though..." She frowns. "Does everyone think Officers are totally stuck-up? I keep getting told that I'm 'not that bad', and I don't even know how to respond to that." Someone apparently has never really paid attention to enlisted versus officer dynamics.

Cate nods a bit, but then her eyebrows go up. "Oh really. Bunkmate or bunkmate?" she asks with a smirking suggestion to the latter. "And I'm sure you'll do fine." The question of dynamics gives her pause, looking around at where she is for a moment before offering quietly, "Some officers are stuck up. I mean, there's that whole 'officer and gentleman/woman' thing ... upper class and lower class." Her mouth twists a bit. "They didn't fight me too hard when I wanted to be a marine. You won't find too many Hibernian officers in the Virgon military. We're good for cannon fodder though." She shrugs. "They're not all bad or anything, but there is a pretty common mentality there."

Isolde blushes slightly at the first question, and she shakes her head. "No, no... we've just been... spending time together. Very... um... unexciting in that department." She offers a slight smirk at that, but then she listens to the bits of information. Her lips thin. "Ah... I guess... I guess I never really ran into that with the Taurons, but I'm starting to see why other Colonies have mocked us for our socialist ways." She shrugs a shoulder, and goes back to folding up her clothes. "Your name came up a few days ago... with, uh... Geoff? Something... I can't remember his last name. Private First Class."

Cate smirks at the blush. "Ah well, you've got enough excitement in your life. Least you get to see each other more often." She nods then. "Don't know much about the Tauron military but yeah - I can see how that could be." Cate leans up against the bunk support, watching Isolde fold the clothes. "Cort-something, I think? I'm bad with names. Don't think I've managed to piss him off yet, so hopefully it didn't come up in a bad way."

"Yeah... but I'm not always sure that's a good thing... there are definitely times he would prefer I didn't see him with bedhead." Not that Van has much hair to produce bedhead with. Then she looks up from folding a shirt, and shakes her head. "No, I said you were good people... he was one who mentioned me not being a bad officer... he's Caprican... low-class, I guess from what I was getting... not one of the uppity ones."

Cate makes a skeptical face. "Does Newton even have enough hair for bedhead?" she wonders, amused. But then she nods about Geoff. "Well, that's good. Least you made a good impression. And thanks for counting me as one of the good ones." She smiles.

"It's getting longer," Isolde protests, smiling all the while. "I think he's letting it grow out, which amuses me slightly." Then she stretches her feet a bit, leaning against the side of the bulkhead where she worries over another shirt. "I've been so out of it lately... I think I've forgotten how to socialize..." Her lips thin a bit before she settles back into a warm smile. "Good news is, once this ECO training is done, I can tag along with the Marines on stuff. Always need a good Raptor duo."

"Well, you're burning the candle at both ends, it's understandable," Cate offers. "I haven't seen Newton lately so I'll reserve judgement on the hair. Actually I owe him one - he promised to look into two of my friends I haven't heard from since Picon." The sad worry shines through there for a moment before she smooths it away. "But yeah, it'll be nice to fly with you once you're done."

"You should check it out... and give him lots of compliments." Isolde grins. "I like the longer hair, and knowing him, he'll get fretful and shave it all off again." Then she starts to ball up some socks, not noticing the couple pairs that get mismatched -- some greys mixing with blacks. At the mention of Picon friends, the techie frowns. "I'm sure he will have... he's good about those things. He's got good contacts back on Picon." If you count being a mayor's son 'good contacts.'

"Hah, I suppose I could do that, though I'm sure it'd mean more coming from you." Cate nods a bit at the last, expression turning solemn. "Yeah, well, part of me is happy with the silence. No news is good news, I guess, to a point." She doesn't sound like she believes that.

Isolde tries to encourage that sentiment with her own nods and smiles, but she looks a bit uncertain herself. "I just would like to hear from my brother... he's been out of contact for a while. Dad's not worried, but he's never been good at worrying..." She shakes her head, and then drops the mismatched socks into the drawer, oblivious to her error.

If Cate notices the socks, she doesn't comment on it. Anyone who saw her locker would understand why - it's an exercise in organized chaos. "Is he somewhere on Tauron?" she asks.

"I... I don't know," Isolde says honestly, looking up at Cate. "I really... was never close to my brother. Jia's closer, but she hasn't heard from him much either. Dad's suggesting he's working too hard and has forgotten to keep in contact. It is just unnerving." She shrugs a shoulder. "I'm sure he's okay." Again, like Cate, she doesn't sound like she believes that.

"I hope he is," Cate offers gently. "It's nice that you get to keep in touch with your dad and your sister, at least." She tries to find the bright side.

"Yeah, well... Jia made Dad and I talk. He seems to be a bit more agreeable now... I think he finds ECO-training more worthy than just being a computer tech." Isolde smiles to Cate, and then dumps her underwear in a small corner, not worrying about regulation on folding. With a tip of her chin, she looks over to the medic again. "I'm all done here," she announces, despite the disorganized locker.

"Getting those officers pips made you respectable, huh," Cate observes dryly. She gestures toward the locker. "So is that another one of the officer privileges? Not having to have your socks alphabetized?"

"He's Enlisted, so I have no idea... I think he's just happy I'm not fannying about with computers anymore." Isolde hesitates, carefully pointing out that, "Not that I think Dad has a full grasp on the idea that being an ECO means I'm just fannying about with a ship computer." She flashes a sheepish smile. Then she looks at her locker, and half-shrugs. "No, but I'll make Van do it." Her smile turns devilish. "He's obsessed with regulations, surely he will organize my locker for me." How disappointed Isolde will be to learn that's not going to happen either...

Cate smirks, eyebrows arching. "Well, at least he's approving. You can break the rest to him later." The smirk turns into a weak chuckle, and she says, "Good luck with that. They'll be alphabetized forwards and backwards." She straightens, "I should let you get back to your studying and stuff."

"I'll slowly break it to him," Isolde says, smirking all the same. Then she shakes her head and closes her locker. "Been a while since we got dinner, want to catch up after I hit the head? I smell like 'overworked and underpaid'." Her grin redoubles with dimples.

"Better than smelling like old kevlar," Cate grins a bit. "Sure, I'll save you a seat on a mess hall bench," she says, before starting for the door.


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