Calliope and Priya reunite on the Vanguard.
Location: Berthings - Vanguard
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1081
There is a new bunk claimed amid the cramped quarters, a battered dufflebag thrown atop of it and sprawled half across. Its contents are slowly being placed into lockers as Priya sits cross-legged on the ground between them and her bunk. She frowns at one of her jackets, smacking the front of it as if that will remove the wrinkles.
Calliope has been knocking around on the Vanguard for awhile now. She's communicated as best she can with her comrades on the Galactica while stationed here, but it's been hit-and-miss during the op on Tauron. And, since the firefight the other day, she's been cooling down. She's just returning from the showers now, blonde hair hanging wet around her shoulders, dressed down in sweats and looking generally exhausted.
The messages have been answered in turn, hit and miss across the requirements of missions and silence. There was a brief one regarding a reassignment has likely been lost in the coming and goings that have led to Priya's placement on the Vanguard. At the sound of steps she looks up, dark eyes widening for a moment, before she breaks into a broad smile. "Cap, you look like shit."
"Tauron?" It's blurted out with surprise, and a big smile from Calliope, when she catches sight of Priya. She launches herself forward, to envelop the ECO in a long-armed hug. "My Raptor got a missile to the face. I feel like shit. I'm OK, though! I mean, nothing wounded but my pride." And her Raptor, probably.
It's a hug that leads them both tumbling onto the berthing floor, the force of Calliope colliding and knocking Priya onto her back with a huff of laughter. It is a hug that is returned though, grin crooked as she looks up at the other woman. "Well you look decent for taking a missile to the face then, still got that Caprica shine," she jokes, grabbing Calliope's chin to inspect the damage. It's followed by a light tap of her hand to her cheek. "Ya know you're supposed to dodge missiles, right Cap? Who else is going to smoke these awful things I bartered for you?"
Calliope laughs, tumbling with Priya and just hanging onto her tight for a moment. She laughs, weakly. about dodging missiles. "I know, right? I usually do better with that. I think it's this new call sign. It's throwing me off my game." Pause. "Oh, yeah. I'm Soundbite now. I got into kind of a...thing with this frakhole reporter on Tauron and it got some coverage. I guess. Anyway, the ship is frakked up, but I'm fine. And really glad to be off Canceron. I might ask for a transfer is they try to send me back again." She laughs, but also sounds kind of serious.
Rather than wriggling away the way Calliope might expect, Priya lets the other woman cling to her and grips her tightly in return. "You need a better ECO," she quips softly, just for Calliope's ears on the /off chance/ the ECO might be in the room. The new callsign is met with a scoff and a roll of Priya's dark eyes. "You always had a mouth on you but... pah." Soundbite. Sitting up slowly, she watches the blonde woman in front of here for a moment. "Heard a little. Sounded like a shit show from that little I heard, even the Viper jock I heard it from sounded concerned."
Calliope finally dislocates herself from Priya, flopping back onto the nearest unoccupied bunk. Is it even hers? No, but the person in it is gone right now, so they aren't going to complain. "It wasn't my ECO's fault. It was all me. I scored a few good hits. Started feeling like a real fighter pilot instead of a frakking cruise director." She rolls her eyes. "The toasters learned me. I thought we were frakking done there for a minute. Canceron was kind of a shit show, in a lot of ways. We got into a friendly fire fight when the Canceron ships didn't identity themselves properly, and we couldn't keep the toasters off them in our last engagement. Frak. Not sure what we could've done differently, and it sure as hells wasn't all on us. Glad to have that planet way in the rearview."
Priya's is still half full of her gear as she unfolds herself from the floor, sitting down next to her open duffle. "Less fun to blame you for me though," she points out, fishing through her bag for a minute to pull out whatever crappy brand of Caprican cigarettes she managed to find between Galactica and here. The box is tossed without comment to Calliope. "Frak." Her dark eyes are steady and sharp, a little haunted, as she regards her friend. "Frakking toasters. Making every goddamn thing worse."
Calliope takes a cig, holding it up for a light. She nods, as to the toasters, her own expression bleak. "I mean, we pried their frakking metal claws off their hold on Canceron. I think we did our job. I just don't know how well it'll play with Fleet P-R, you know?" She shrugs. "Probably shouldn't think too much about it. At least we don't get much news out here. We're even tighter on communication channels than the Galactica was. Which sometimes sucks, but at least it keeps you focused, I guess."
"Sounds like." Priya's expression remains solemn as she leans forward, resting her forearms on her knees. "Frak fleet PR. That's someone else's problem, Caprica. You did your job. Get in there, fry the toasters, and get out with as many of our own as we can." That's it. That's the job. "Explains the stack of books in the lounge."
Calliope lets out a "Heh" and nods. "Yeah. I guess I should start buying books. Or just load my holo with digital mags again, now that we're headed back to Scorpia. I think I got like every issue of last year's Delphi Fashion Monthly when we were docked there last." She takes a long drag, eyeing Priya through the smoke. "I'm really glad you're here. If I didn't say it before. Just so you know."
"Only if you want something you're sure you actually want to read," Priya quips, mouth edged in a smile. Just barely. She groans at Calliope's choice in actual reading material. "Or you could do that and rot what brain you've got left." It's a a familiar bit of banter. It only falls a little flat in the haze of smoke. "It's good to see you again too, Caprica," she answers softly. Smile just a little bit more genuine for a moment.
"My brain rotted in university, Tauron. I'm just enjoying the fallout right now," Calliope replies to Priya with a grin. She propels herself up from the random bunk she was sitting on, taking a few more puffs on her cig. "We should get dinner later. Right now, I'm going to try and catch some rack time. These bunks get loud. We're packed in here with Marines and Ops people and...everyone, basically. It's smellier than the Galactica was. On the plus side, frat rules basically don't exist. I guess because we're uber-SpecOps now. So, blow off however you went. Until you die." She laughs, in an 'it's not really a joke' kind of way.
An 'urgh' noise escapes Priya at the thought of Calliope's brain's fallout, even as she comfortably leans about against the bed. "Probably true. That." The rotted brain. "Sounds like a plan. You can introduce me to the rest of the crew, yeah?" Or something like that. "Well, that sounds like Tauron all over again." People packed together. Her brows lift a little at the note of frat rules and she grins. "Is that your way of telling me you want a kiss, Caprica?" She attempts to bat her lashes and fails horribly. "Until you die," she repeats. Words flat. "Always was the plan anyhow. Get your beauty rest, lord knows you need it."
Calliope winks at Priya. And blows her a kiss, before heading back to her bunk.