Kazimir and Roara return hungry from a flight. Cap joins them and fuels up, too.
Location: Mess Hall - Battlestar Galactica
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 977
Arriving in the mess hall after grabbing a quick shower and change, Kazimir settles into the small line heading into the chow line, the pilots among the few present thanks to the late mission time. He's got his flight log in his hands and making notes in it as he moves along, not exactly paying attention to his surroundings for the most part
Roara likes a good helping after a shootout. Hair still spun up over her head post-flight, she piles sustenance onto her tray with little regard for anything else. Lazy eyed and indifferent, the young woman shows no love for it. Space food is space food. "Getting all your homework done?" She remarks in a sidelong croak to Kazimir. It's said without looking up.
Pausing as he gets a first look at Roara post flight, Kazimir draws in a breath and then chuckles a little dryly, "I try to keep up with Raider tactics, dry as they are, just in case they ever decide to change." he offers to the woman, considering her and then tucks the notebook away. "Nice flying out there."
"Thank you," Roara manages without sound wry, "You, too." She elongates an arm, plucking up a stale dinner roll and plopping it down atop the pile. Good enough. She moves casually on down the buffet with a surveying eye. "Well, I can't knock you for that logic. Now, can I?" How disappointing.
"Don't sound disappointed. It's pretty boring, I know." Kazimir offers as he plucks up a sandwich to add to his plate, before he moves along the salad line instead of the buffet. "Been flying long?" he asks curiously.
"Four years, give or take," Roara answers casually, "Guess it depends on what you consider to be a long time." Running the tip of her tongue thoughtfully along her bottom lip, she turns to look over her shoulder not towards Kazimir but around for a place to sit. She's sure as hell got no reason to pick at the salad. "How about you?"
"Over twelve years now.." Kazimir is talking to Roara as they are moving through the chow line - correction, Roara is moving to find a seat as the Captain is collecting his plate of sandwich and a salad and going to join her. "Not quite ready for retirement." he says with a small chuckle as he takes a seat across from her.
Running her tongue along the inside of her cheek now as she plops down her tray, Roara sits with legs splayed. Her shoulders square outward as she hunches over the well-earned meal, eyeballing Kazimir from over it. "Twelve years? And you're still flying?" She repeats incredulously, pressing her lips to let out a huff of breath, "And here we're talkin' about my moves. We oughta be talkin' about yours."
Cap arrives, her hair slightly damp and banded into a quick ponytail, and predictably takes up her own place at the end of the line. A proper farmgirl, she never lacks for appetite, no matter her size! So her tray ends up with at least a bit of everything piled up on it, and surely none will go to waste. Things are pretty crowded by the time she reaches the end of the line, so scoping out the available spaces, she spots only a few likely options, and ends up near some of her fellow pilots, who have arrived not long before her. "Mind if I join you, sir- ah, sirs?"
There's a little chuckle at that. "Me? Naw, nothing special about me. I mostly did test piloting and the like." Kazimir offers as he picks up as the young woman comes to join them at the table and the older officer offers up a smile. "Now, you want a story, this is who you get it from. Feel free, Cap. Babyface, Hammerhead. Hammerhead, Babyface." he offers as he adds a drizzle of dressing to his salad before taking a bite.
"Test piloting doesn't sound too much safer than what we're doing now." Cap receives a bit of a chin-nod from Roara. There's a grunt of acknowledgment added for good measure as she forks a helping of mashed potatoes into her mouth. It's about the same time as she takes a healthy bite out of her dinner roll. She inches over. It doesn't really make any actual room at the table for the blonde but at the very least, the sentiment is there. She certainly looks like she might be expecting a story, now.
"Thanks!" chirps a chipper Cap, setting her tray in place and plopping herself down behind it shortly after. Lack of space is OK, she'll squirm/squeeze/balance as necessary. "What story?" She looks back and forth between the two, keenly aware she's walked into something but not immediately sure what, and only slowly picks up that she's the one expected to be offering something. Maybe the bit about test piloting at least gives her a hint. "What, oh, you mean how I learned? Uh, I took an old cropduster joyriding, more or less. I mean, it was kinda an antique, but I'm sure that wasn't half as dangerous as flying some of the stuff you have, Captain. Well, maybe that time I took it through the barn. My folks were awful mad."
Roara cocks her head on her neck, giving a muffled choke. "You-" She coughs, balling up a tiny fist to pound lightly at the center of her chest, "You stole a whh-at?" Chewing down and swallowing the last of the food in her mouth, Roara laughs. The corners of both her eyes and mouth tighten happily. "That's crazy."
"I didn't -steal- it, I mean, it was ours, my family's. It was just old and really finicky and I wasn't supposed to take it out on my own," Cap explains, in tones that make everything sound infinitely reasonable. "Or well, even fly it. But I'd gone with my brother a bunch of times, and I just kind of learned by watching." He grins, shovels in a spoonful of something to chew momentarily, and then goes on, "My grampa was mad at first, but it all blew over eventually, and before long maintaining it was one of my official chores. Did get in trouble a couple more times for 'crazy stunts', though."
Roara bulges her eyes, taking Cap in for a moment as she eats more as well. "I learned on a simulator," she offers with a dry, distinct lack of enthusiasm for that. What a waste. Then again, she's not from anywhere with readily available crop-dusters. "I got in plenty of trouble as a kid but nothin as crazy as all that. Did you actually land the thing or did you crash?"
"My first few landings were a little rough, but I kept it together. That old junker woulda smashed into a million pieces if I put her down unkindly." Cap grins a bit more, and then points out as the simulator gets mention: "Well, be thankful you didn't have to unlearn flying in gravity and atmosphere. That was a little tricky at first." The story gets one more fun bit tacked on the end: "Anyway, once things went all, well you know, all the local kids ended up mustered for the local militia and Odd - that's my brother - well, he ended up in the Marines. And me?" She grins. Seems the student became the master. "Then the Articles got signed a bit later, we all got uh, merged? Incorporated into new Colonial Navy wings, and I ended up here. Tadah."
"Oh, I'm thankful for a whole lot. Not the least among them that nobody ever put me within ten yards of a crop duster. Or crops, for that matter," Roara's eyes press into happy half-moons. Her tongue probes around in her mouth, picking at food that might be stuck in her teeth. Her chest heaves with another chuckle, "He wasn't wrong about the story. That's some easy-on fearlessness..."
Roara picks at the contents of her tray, making conversation between bites until calling it a night.