2237-02-10 - Wolfpack Celebration

The Wolfpack gathers to celebrate their victories and remember their losses.

Date: 2237-02-10

Location: Edson Air Base, Canceron

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 958

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Most of the squadron has gathered tonight in the Edson Officer's Club, to celebrate their success on Tauron - in particular those who became the first CF aces of the war - and to toast those they lost. Not being one for speeches, Kallas fired off the shindig simply by saying, "Good work so far everyone. Keep it up. Drinks tonight are on the CF, so enjoy." Between those on duty, the remaining Canceron pilots, and a few volunteer "designated fliers", they've got enough coverage for anything short of an all-out attack, so the crew is free to live it up for a night.

There's one particular Captain who is not an ace. But then, Raptor pilots rarely make that mark and Antonie Niemec has been far more on the 'SAR' side of things. Rescuing those they can. But she'll take any opportunity for some downtime... and CF-funded drinks. The woman is already at a table, dressed down in BDUs and dual-tanks. She's got her feet up on said table, as well, beer in hand as she watches the others gather and get their drinks.

Calliope is in attendance, and has scored herself a very bright blue drink. It's the sort that looks like it should come with a little umbrella, but the O club didn't provide her one. She looks like she's enjoying it all the same, though, and it's raised in a little toast after Kallas' 'Keep it up.' There's no room at the bar to sit, so she stops leaning when the CAG stops talking. And scouting around for a chair. She spots one at Niemec's table, and gestures to it in a 'Can I sit?' sort of way.

Kallas is mingling with people at the bar. He's not drinking himself, leaving that privilege to the others, but there's a fruity soda in his hand.

There's chairs available at Niemec's table. No one's sat with her as of yet. Her oft-companion, Eva, must be one of those stuck on duty. The Tauron bus driver tilts her head in answer to that gesture. "Have at," she offers aloud, lifting her drink for another sip. And no, she does not put her feet down. It's the closest she can come to lounging without ousting someone from a booth. "How you liking Canceron?"

"It's very...military-base-y," Calliope replies about Canceron, as she sits. "Haven't really seen anything outside Edson, except by air. I docked here sometimes in my past life, but I never got too far from the spaceport those times. The humidity's killing my hair. But otherwise? Not bad. You?" She eyes Niemec's boots but doesn't complain about the feet on the table, or seem that fussed by it.

Kallas comes on over to the table with the two Raptor pilots. "Bullseye, Squeak," he says in casual greeting.

The O Club is largely Wolfpack pilots. It's their party, after all. For success on Tauron. Those that aren't there are likely on duty or offered to stay sober. Niemec is at a table, holding a beer, with her feet propped up on the table's surface. She's in BDUs and tanks: off duty, fo sho. Calliope has just joined her with a very, very blue drink. "Never actually been. Hoping to use one of those vouchers soon. Maybe see if there's a restaurant nearby that makes a decent meal." Mind, the O Club's food isn't half bad... but it's still on base. She looks up as Kallas approaches, lifting her beer in greeting. "Sir."

Calliope is in a tank top and duty green trousers, for her part, pale blonde hair loose around her shoulders. "Oh, yeah. I'm totally looking forward to getting a day in town. I don't think I saw any real civvie areas on Tauron. Not that there was a ton of downtime for it. Hi, Smackdown." The last piped at Kallas. "I'm hoping to check out a beach, if I manage a pass on a day where there's no rain. Battlestar living isn't being kind to my tan."

"Heard the beach is great, just watch out for sharks," is Kallas' friendly advice on that subject. "Hopefully we'll all get down there eventually. Hey, though, I wanted to say nice work to both of you. Know Raptor jocks don't get much of a chance to rack up a score on the leaderboard, but you've both scored damn high in my book." He lifts his glass in a little toast.

"Pale is the new tan..." comes from Finn as he moves into the O club. There is free booze right? Free being the operative word. Booze also being the operative word. As such, Finn is here. He's wearing duty greens, but the top is undone. So, casual. See? He slows after he spits out that witty remark and looks for directions to the bar.

"I appreciate it, Smackdown." Niemec's smile as she raises her glass to the CAG is genuine. The woman does finally put her boots down, sitting upright in her chair. "Anyone want to split a plate of nachos? I've been told they're not bad." And then there's Finn. She lifts her drink again, this time in greeting. "There's a seat over here if you don't want to crowd the bar."

"I'm just stunned when I manage to hit anything, sir," Calliope says, with a little laugh. So it's clear it's a joke, even if she sounds like she kind of means it. "But. Whoa. Seriously. There are sharks?" Her blue eyes go a touch wide. Finn's entrance distracts from imagining sea monsters, at least. "Hi, Farm Boy. The booze is free! Well, I mean, C-F is paying. So it's free to us. And I could totally do nachos."

Kallas chuckles at Calliope. "Sometimes I feel that way myself. And yeah, actual sharks. Or so I've heard from some of the locals." He shakes his head to Niemec's invitation. "Tempting, but gotta pass. Thanks though. Hey Farm Boy."

"Evenin' boss man..." Comes Finn's reply and he moves off to the bar to get a drink, nodding to Niemec on his way, "Yeah, definitely. Lemme just grab a whiskey and I'll be back." He grins a moment later at Calliope, "So, I don't have to seal the booze, Bullseye? That kinda takes the fun out of it..." And then he's over at the bar, and ordering a drink.

"Put in an order of nachos while you're over there," Niemec calls after Finn before looking back to Kallas. There's a shrug, "I'm not sure the beach is really my speed, but who knows. Maybe I'll go dip my toes in or something. Can't be sharks in a couple inches of water, right?"

Calliope cracks a half-smile at Finn. "You could always try and swipe a bottle just for fun? If you're looking for the rush. If there are human-eating sharks, I might just soak up the rays and enjoy the sand. I'm sure they can't get us on the shore, Squeak. It's sweet that we're actually getting the chance to see some of the local spots here. I don't think I put a toe on Tauron when I wasn't on duty."

Kallas gulps down some of his soda, listening to the chit-chat. "Not unless they grow the sharks here pretty small," Kallas agrees with Niemec, grinning. He nods to Calliope then. "Me either. Wouldn't mind checking out that resort if it ever opens up again after the war though."

A nod and a wave is given at Niemec, indicating he got the message. A few minutes later, he comes back with a glass of whiskey. No nachos, but those will take some time. He comes to where Kallas, Calliope and Niemec are, slowing as he approaches, "Resort?" He huhs quietly. "Don't really have those back home." They call them farms there.

"I don't think any of us got the chance to set foot on Tauron that wasn't in the midst of a mission," Niemec offers in a wry tone. She lifts her beer for another sip, squinting at it. "Should've gotten a pitcher." She's slouching a bit in the chair, to make up for having taken her boots off the table. "Which resort was that? Tauron doesn't have many, I don't think." Not really a 'destination planet' for most.

"Oh my gods!" Calliope exclaims this as if it's both exciting and tragic, when Finn mentions his ignorance of resorts. "You've never been to a resort? You should totally try it if you ever get some leave. If you can find one that's open. You'll love it! There's tennis. And hot-tubs. If the spa's running, you could get a massage!" Well, she sounds enthusiastic about these things. She sips her very blue drink, looking to Kallas. "The ski place? The Cylons kind of detracted from the look of it, but it's nice to imagine it without them. Maybe it'll get back up and running now." She tries to sound hopeful.

There's a somewhat faint, and somewhat reticent chuckle from Finn at Calliope's excitement. He takes a sip of his whiskey and eyes the blue drink she has. Huh. "Yeah, they didn't really have resorts on the part of Aerilon I'm from." he offers helpfully, "And I've been moving from navy to navy since I was eighteen. Never really gone on leave anywhere nice before." To be fair, he goes on leave to places with seedy bars. He nods his head towards her blue drink, "So what's that?"

Kallas nods, gesturing towards Calliope. "Yeah, the ski place. Seemed nice, with the lake and all. Skiing isn't much of a thing where I came from." A glance to Finn. "Worth doing once in your life, if you're into the whole vacation thing."

"Don't worry," Niemec offers as an aside to Finn. "Never was the vacationing sort, myself. Not much tim nor money for it. Did go camping a few times." Probably times her father or grandfather had to lie low from legal issues. Camping trip for the family! Fun for all! She finishes off her beer and pushes to her feet. "Gonna get more. And check on the nachos." And she winds off towards the bar.

"A lot of my civvie time was spent flying cruise ships. Which are, like, resorts with hyperlight drives. Not that the crew got to enjoy them near as much as the passengers did, but we still got some perks. Way fewer complimentary massages on a battlestar." She eyes her blue drink when Niemec heads toward the bar, but there's enough left that she doesn't ask for another. "I've never been much for skiing. But I do like the think of the place opening up again. Being...normal, kind of." Such as normal is right now.

Vacation thing? Finn smirks just a bit, sipping from his whiskey again, "Sir, don't think I've been on a vacation in three years." He sets the glass down, and nods to Calliope, "Flying a resort sounds like more fun than going to one. Short of the massages...those are good." And as she doesn't name the drink, Finn lets that go, looking to Kallas, "Never been skiing either. I went cow tipping once...Probably not as fun."

"Got me beat then," Kallas offers to Finn with a grin. "But I'll be sure to run the idea of complimentary massages up the chain." Grin widening there for a moment, he gets distracted by another pilot near the bar calling for him. "Excuse me."

It's a handful of minutes before Niemec returns from the bar. Fresh beer and the plate of nachos. She plunks back down, setting the snack within reach of the other two. There's a raise of drink to Kallas as the CAG departs. "Did I hear something about massages? We should see if there's a place to get one 'round here. I could go for that."

"I totally bet there's a place in town we could get them," Calliope says, eyes brightening with excitement. Massages! "Even if it's not a resort. I definitely need to relax after...well, everything." The war. Robot uprising. Stuff. She raises her drink the the CAG as he departs, then nods to Finn. Eyes growing a touch wistful, then. "Yeah, it was a pretty sweet gig. Got to meet all kinds of people, and I managed to put down my ships on most of the worlds, even if I didn't see much of some of them beyond the spaceports. Gemenon was the only one our company didn't dock in." She does not exactly sound regretful. "It wasn't exactly cruise liner territory. Cow...tipping?" She does not know this term.

"Can't imagine you spent much time on Aerilon..." Finn replies. Then again, maybe they have rich people there. Someone has to own the farms, right? And the processing centers. He just never saw that side of the world. Then she asks about cow tipping, "Country fun." he replies. He takes another sip of his whiskey and explains, "It involves beer and sleeping cows. You get drunk, then you set your shoulder and try to knock them over. Most of the time, you end up face first in...cow pies."

"We could ask some of the local pilots. See if there's a place to get a massage. Mind, I could always ask Eva, but..." Not the same thing. Niemec just reaches for some nachos and chows down as Finn describes cow tipping. The Tauran woman looks mildly baffled. "That's fun?"

"It was actually kind of hot back in the early '30s," Calliope says to Finn. "For some people on Caprica, at least. There was a whole 'get back in touch with your natural self' movement a lot of vacation companies did. We did lots of traffic back and forth to Aerilon then. It was, like, horse-back riding and picking fruit for two weeks, before you went back to your automated-everything. People payed loads of cubits for those trips." She shrugs. Rich people. "I don't think tipping over cows was one of the attractions. Eww!" Exclaimed when Finn mentions face-planting in manure, before she just devolves into giggles at the image. "So you've actually done this? Do the cows ever, like...attack?"

Finn chuckles quietly and takes up a chip from the plate, munching on it. "It's fun when you are a drunk teenager. Less fun when you fall into the 'mud'." He pauses and looks to Calliope, smirking a bit and rolling his eyes. "Rich people." he comments idly. A beat pause and he shakes his head, "Never had one attack me. They sleep standin up, see? And they are pretty docile. They just sort of...stand there. Sometimes they step on you when you fall." That sounds worse.

"So that's two ends of the spectrum I don't get," Niemec muses, sipping at her beer. "Rich people and farmers. Neither of those things sound fun. If I'm going on a vacation, I wanna be pampered. I hated camping." Bugs and fishing and lack of proper facilities. "Seriously, who wants to spend a couple weeks picking fruit?"

Calliope makes a face at the idea of being stepped on by a cow. "Guess it beats sharks. At least the cow isn't going to try and eat you. Probably. I don't really know what cows eat." She looks to Finn, for confirmation they do not dine on humans, while munching on nachos. She chuckles at Niemec's words, shrugging. "Yeah, I did not get it. I've never been camping in my life. But they were paying to fly there, so I wasn't complaining."

Finn chuckles at Calliope and shakes his head, "No, they eat grass, not people." And then he looks to Niemec, shrugging, "Farming definitely isn't a vacation. I don't mind camping though. Done that plenty in my life. Hell...grew up in tents plenty." He then downs the rest of his whiskey and takes a few more chips, "Time for another drink. You two ok?" Likely Niemic is since she just got one. "I'm buyin..." because, free booze.

"We already covered sharks not going that close to shore. So I think we'll be able to avoid that fate." Niemec glances down at her beer, making a thoughtful sound. "You could pick up a pitcher. Less time spent running for refills."

"I'm almost done with this, but I think I'm done with actual liquor tonight," Calliope says, drinking the last of the blue in her glass. "A pitcher sounds about right. And it totally counts are buying if you're the one making the trip to the bar." Or as close as you can get, with free booze. "I just never saw the appeal in sleeping in a tent for a weekend. I think my favorite place, of anywhere I visited, was Leonis. The cities were gorgeous. And so old. Some buildings went back a hundred years. Everything on Caprica felt like it'd been built yesterday, by comparison. And I guess it'll all be rebuilt again now."

And so, Finn is off to the bar top. He returns about two minutes later with a pitcher in each hand and three glasses awkwardly wedged between the pitchers. Apparently three people need two pitchers, not one pitcher. "Just need a liitttllle help here..." he says as he tries to set the pitchers down on the table without dropping the glasses.

"Beer is always good," Niemec offers to Calliope with a grin. "Nice build up to the drunk and a manageable hangover. 'Least for me." She does watch Finn on his mission and is soon on her feet to help relieve him of one of the pitchers. "Think the Wolfpack will drink the club dry tonight?"

Calliope smiles broad at Niemec's last question. "We can try. Though I'm kind of just enjoying the chill. Nice to be able to breathe even for a few hours. I can't remember the last time I was even buzzed, which is bizarre. Condition Two sucks. Yay, beer!" Maybe she's a little buzzed. Finn gets an enthusiastic "Thanks!" before she fills up a glass. "This is why you're an ace, Farm Boy."

"And here I thought it was because I was an awesome pilot..." Finn replies with a smirk. Once the two have filled their beers, he takes one of the pitchers and fills up his own glass. "Yeah...damn condition two..." he mutters quietly and takes a sip from the glass before finding a place to sit down.

"I'm just glad to see the sky. Breathe some fresh air. Even the mosquitos are tolerable." And Niemec doesn't even mention the beds. Air Base pilots have some nice digs. No narrow bunks! No being stacked one atop the other! Though the marines still have to suffer such. She refills her glass and sits back, drinking deep.

"And real beds!" Calliope is mentioning this part. "It's not exactly a resort, but it kind of feels like one after months aboard that ship. It's weird to think of something as big as the Galactica as claustrophic, but it is nice to get off it for awhile." She winks at Finn. "Well, yeah, that too. But you get extra points for carrying the beer."

"Eh, the beds on the ship aint so bad. I'm kinda used to the racks." Finn offers up with a shrug, "Guess these beds are nice to. Kinda bigger than I'm used to these days." He sits back, relaxing as he sips the beer and then grins at Calliope, "It's true, I am the man. I'll take the extra points, I think I need them." He then looks to Niemec, smirking, "I dunno, I had my fill of bugs. I like space being bug free."

"Beds and dual-occupancy rooms are nice for other things," Niemec points out to Finn with a bit of a smirk. "Hell, I've heard some marines trying to bribe the folks who don't have a roommate into giving them some time between shifts in the unclaimed bed."

"I hope washing the sheets after is part of the deal," Calliope says with a giggle, of the bribes the Marines are giving out. She digs further into the nachos, between sips of beer, idly people-watching the bar as she munches. "But, yeah. It almost feels like a break right now. Maybe the fighting won't be as heavy here as it was on Tauron." She actually sounds vaguely optimistic. But, she is an ensign.

Finn chuckles and wrinkles his nose at that, "Nope, not renting out spare space. That's nasty." He shakes his head, and sips from his beer. "If I'm not gettin lucky in there, no one is." Which seems like it makes some kind of sense. Another chip is poached from the plate and he muches on it. "Doubt that, Bullseye. Doubt the fight will get easier from here on out."

"I've not got spare space, or I'd consider it. I bet some of them have some nice things for trade." Niemec seems amused, by and far. "And I'm sure cleaning the sheets is part of it. It'd ave to be." She's still drinking pretty heavily, but balancing it with nachos. No need to get wasted too soon. Not with fre drinks. "Least it isn't cold here. So if any of us end up involved in extra-vehicular scraps... we won't freeze."

"Yeah. Probably," Calliope says with a little sigh, at Finn's prediction about the fight. "We've got free booze tonight, at least. And I bet you could get lucky if you wanted to, Farm Boy. The club's kind of in the mood tonight if you want to take somebody home." This prompts her to eye the bar again. More speculatively this time, as she finishes off her beer. "You know. Maybe I will get another blue drink tonight." Does she even know the name of what she was drinking before? Maybe not. But she excuses herself and strolls up to order another one. It puts her in proximity to chat up a brunette Canceron officer who's nursing a rum at the bar. This is probably not a coincidence.

A chuckle follows Calliope off to the bar, "Blue drink?" he shakes his head, "Shouldn't drink it if you don't know what it's called, y'know?" This is directed to Niemec. He polishes off that beer and refills his glass. Then another nacho is taken and consumed. "Eva down here, or is she over at the barracks?" Granted, she doesn't drink...

"Maybe she's had enough of them that she forgot," Niemec offers, giving a bit of a shrug. The woman takes a long drink of her own beer, closing her eyes a moment. Seems it's starting to hit. At Finn's question, she opens an eye to squint his way. "Eva? I think she volunteered to sit alert, in case something happens." There's on duty pilots, but they still put the word out for volunteers. As a 'just in case.' "I was planning to bring a few desserts for her when I head back."

Glug glug, Finn downs half the beer he has left. Apparently he intends to get at least somewhat drunk. "I'm off tomorrow too..." he muses idly. Which means he doesn't have to worry about hangovers, "Then I'll probably be on alert call the next two days with my luck." Or maybe he'll actually get to enjoy their time down on planetside. "Might even get to check out that beach."

"Alert call isn't so bad here. They've got better magazines, at least." Niemec leans to grab a pitcher, refilling her drink. Or topping it off, at least. An empty cup is a sad cup. "I've got a couple vouchers myself. Just waiting for Eva and I to have some overlap in our days off. I'm thinking beach, too. Even if it's just to sit and try to spot sharks in the water." That's what you do at a beach, right?

"That..umm...sounds fun. Shark watching...Think I've heard of that..." Or was it whale watching? He gulps down another long pull of beer and sets the glass down to grab several stuck together nacho chips, also known as 'MegaChip...withCheese'. Mmmm, megachip. He takes a bite of it and holds off on the rest, "Don't they have cows here? I could go tip them you know." Or fall in the cow shit. "I guess the shark watching will be fine."

"You could," Niemec responds, snorting faintly into her glass as she takes another drink. "Can't say I see the allure. Beach, at least... Sun, lying around on a towel, potentially attractive people with little on. Bet you could even buy some beer or wine in town to take with."

"Well...there is something to be said for good looking women in bathing suits..." Finn replies, still working on megachip. It is a delicate art, megachip eating. Go in too hard, he falls apart, and you lose him. "But then there's sunburn..." And sand in your parts, but he doesn't know about that. "Cold beer on a beach sounds good though...Or one of those umbrella drinks. I saw those in a picture once."

My computer conked out. If someone else has the end of the log feel free to add it.


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