2237-05-05 - Solid Ground

In which the vagaries of space and the lack there of are discussed.

Date: 2237-05-05

Location: //Vanguard//

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1008

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A lot of the space, naval, ship stuff has been by and large going over Evan's head but that hasn't stopped him from attempting to look interested and engaged as Eva talked; at least attempting to learn something about this new metal home. Granted, he knows his best contribution right now is simply to service as a pack mule, which he does by carrying the heaviest objects or in this case the crate. "I haven't been on many ships to be truthful. A couple times up to the shipyards at most. Space isn't... really my thing."

Eva hasn't judged, and she knows, eventually, he'll be comfortable enough on the ship that it'll all make sense. Well, either that or he'll be miserable, but that never stopped a marine from doing his job. "I almost can't remember a time when I wasn't." She humphs, a soft, amused sound, "You know, I never intended to fly a Viper. I was going to fly raptors, freighters, go back to Hibernia when I resigned my commission. Now the best moments for me, are when I'm in that pilot's seat just drifting, looking out at the blackness of space around me." She glances over, shifting the empty. It's not as heavy as it was, but it's still ungainly. "Have you ever just sat and looked at it, watched the stars spinning away from you into infinity?"

"Nope." Evan comments rather quickly, a shake of his head to emphasize the word. "The mere thought of it is spine tingling, that there's nothing there. Just a whole lot of nothing. That terrifies me honestly." He adjusts the crate he's carrying, the awkwardness the only issue definitely not the weight. "Just the thought right now that all that is between me and infinite nothingness is but a small metal wall created by human hands is..." He trails off and shudders, "I prefer good solid ground under my feet.

Eva will never be the sort that will tell someone they just need to buck up. She knows too well, what it means to be afraid. She does look over, considering the man walking with her. "There are a few ports you can look out of here, if you might want to try to work on that. The cutter's more stable than the raptor will be." And it goes without saying...he'll be getting a lot of hours in those over the next few weeks.

"At the end, I just need to have faith in the drivers not to get me shot out. Same way I suspect the pilots will need to have faith in me not to shoot them on accident." The glance is given over at Eva to see if she at least cracks anything at the quip before he nods, "I'll try looking out a bit but it just... it's unnerving is all. I'm a ground brat, jungles are my thing."

"Shot down? Probably not. Now...opening the ramp on a raptor and kicking you out? That, I make no promises. Nothing so mercurial as a pilot. So one of them shooting back might also not be out of the question. Just...don't let your guard down." A thoughtful look, as she considers, before she turns down a corridor, heading down along the upper deck, "I think I know just the place." She finally comes to a stop just outside of the chapel, setting down the empty crate, and then pushing the hatch open, "Don't worry. You won't be in there, out there, alone."

Evan gives a glance at Eva, then at the sign indicating the hatch. His eyebrow goes up and he shakes his head, "But Cherry... we only just met. Whatever will our parents say?" The drawl of his tone is over the top as he chuckles and moves to follow her. "Being alone I can handle. Being attached, that's another story all together."

"It'll all end in tears." Eva slips inside first, eyes scanning to see if the chapel is busy, or indeed, occupied with any of the chaplain core going about their duties. Thankfully, perhaps, they too are busy with the business of the rescue and the coats is clear, "My father...very poetical man." She moves off across the chapel, "Don't worry, I'm not about to push you outside in an EVA suit and a rope harness and a hand crank." The reason for her choice becomes clear, as soon as they enter the room. There is a viewport that allows a view of the darkness of space.

Following Eva towards the viewport, Evan actually seems to ease up a bit as if getting closer somehow makes him more vulnerable. A weak point in his armor of strength it would seem is this space concept. However, after a time he does edge closer to glance out, head shaking. "The ocean makes more sense."

Eva hangs back herself, making no comment on the man's obvious unease. This too, isn't new to her. How many rooks has she shepherded through this same time out of time? "Because you know where it ends? Seems to me, they can both kill you just as easily. More easily in my case, as I can't swim."

"You can't swim, I can't fly. It balances out well." Evan comments rather dryly to Eva as he looks out the window, catching sight of her in the reflection of the viewpoint which leads him to turn and look at her fully. "Don't think I'll ever get truly comfortable with it."

"I suppose in a way it does, though it also means that we can possibly each teach the other one what we don't know." She catches the gaze in the window, before he turns, and she meets his eyes unreflected, "I don't know that you necessarily have to be. Only trust that there are people around to get you where you need to go. Safely." A tilt of her head, "So that's why the ships in the night. No strings, nothing that can be used to puppet you, then?"

A small nod from Evan towards the woman. "Strings and complications. When I was younger, it was because of the adventurous spirit. Now that I'm older, it's because I know that my spirit keeps me on the move. Complications are just something that with a war, they aren't needed."

Just a curl of the edge of her mouth, the precursor to a smile, "It's refreshing to hear someone be so honest about their feelings and expectations. Too often, it starts out that way, and then all of a sudden the uncomplicated thing becomes complicated and then good things get ruined because boundaries can't be respected."

Evan glances over at Eva and nods his head. "That's precisely it. Boundaries." He nods his head again in affirmation before looking out the window. "Before I was released the first time, things went from fine to complicated back to fine again. See we had a tradition that... well, it was a tradition. Anyway, complications got in the way, infected the unit. Jealousies really."

Eva considers, listening to what's being shared, the ideas that are pointed out, the details that are left obscured. "I think I understand the power of traditions, even if the ones I am used to, aren't strictly anything which might relate to yours. Sometimes...I think people really are better off not knowing. Keeping things strictly compartmentalized." She glances back towards the window, "One day, I'll take you out on a raptor, get you in a flight suit, pop the door and let you sit out on the wing."

"I like how you phrased that 'let me' as if I would actually want to do those things." Evan comments dryly before glancing over at Eva. "I'll just say, any unit I'm with... better adjust their expectations to celebrating a successful mission. If you are going to die, you die with honor. If you're going to live, you better damn well live."

Eva's grin momentarily surfaces, a flash across her features, "As if I didn't have complete faith that one day you might must just want to. Unless you think that I'm giving you far too much credit?" Yes, definitely a challenge there. "And what do you consider 'living'?"

"Living? Conversation, cigars, good alcohol and sex of course." Evan pauses as he rattles them off and chuckles, "It makes me sound like some university throw back party animal. But really, living is embracing the things you enjoy in life. Those things I enjoy. Well, that and of course poetry." He throws that in with a smirk.

There's a moment of thoughtfulness, in Eva's expression, "I wouldn't say that, necessarily, although that list does seem, oh, vaguely familiar. I think it would be more accurate to say that it's the mindset of a soldier who has seen enough of war to know that if you don't take what you want today, there may not be a tomorrow in which to do it." A brief pause, "There are some percentage of the military that understood that, before the Cylons came, but I think that has increased quite drastically in recent months. "I make no judgement about the poetry."

Evan nods his head, "That's a large part of it I suspect. That people are learning what life is. Before the Cylons, that was the worst of it for me. The Clan Wars, the Colonial Wars... saw some shit." He leans against the bulkhead to look out the window, forgetting that it's the chapel he's in. A glance is given over to Eva. "Those of us that were in the thick of it, we celebrated success and living, cause tomorrow might not have it."

Eva moves to rest a shoulder against the bulkhead, arms lightly folded across her chest, studying you in profile, as you look out of the window. "And the Cylons have...what, proved you right? Made you even more adamant about this life of simple pleasure and no strings? What about tomorrow for you? Do you see one?"

"Pretty much." Evan concedes softly towards Eva as he quirks an eyebrow. "What, were you hoping for a bit more depth? There is, but ... look. Simplest way to put it. Damaged goods, seen some bad shit, makes me think that probably getting what I can out of it before I end up heading to the Gods is probably the best route. Tomorrow is... tomorrow. If I get it, great, not going to hold my breath to expect it."

Eva shakes her head, lifting a hand, "No, Evan. I'm not asking for your deepest, most private thoughts. I'm just trying to figure out exactly where you stand. That's all. What your boundaries are, how you engage with other people. How much is too far, how little is not enough. We hardly know each other well enough to ask those deeper questions."

Again the man finds himself chuckling and he glances over at Eva. "Boundaries are... I think I know what you mean. Let's just say, for the safety of all. My commitment is to the mission; defeating the machines. Other than that? I hold no real commitments. I honor my friends, but nothing beyond that. That work?"

Eva, for a long moment, is silent, once again studying your face, this time full on, rather than in profile. Finally, she nods, "Yes, that works." She offers a smile, glancing back to the window. "I will put money on that bet though. You will end up hanging out of the side of a raptor."

Evan nods his head a bit, gives another glance out the viewport then turns to Eva. "We should get the last of those crates set up. I suspect a few people will be itching to get to the surface. Also... I think standing here staring out into space is giving you ideas. Really really bad ideas."

There's some of Eva's usual humour, as she steps away from the viewport, heading towards the hatch back out into the main deck and the crate she left there, "Oh, and a few very, very good ones. It's all relative." She steps out, picking back up her burden, waiting for you, before she heads down towards the supplies.


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