Lyn and Isolde beg Kell, "No More Rehearsing."
Location: Berthings, Vanguard
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1067
Lyn Arda is sitting at a table not far from her rack, reading a horror novel of some sort she picked up this morning planetside. She's in her sleepwear, an old blue tee shirt with the logo for Arctic Station Thula on it, and a pair of cotton shorts, and her bare feet are propped on the chair across from her. She had to come back to the Vanguard to finish her PT, to be cleared to remove her stitches tomorrow. No stitches means she might be able to may try to swim in that roiling ocean.
Standing in front of the locker next to his bunk, Kell can be seen in his duty blues. The door to his locker is open and he appears to be looking into his mirror, oddly enough speaking to himself. He is hard to miss, especially if one enters the berthings or is leaving the berthings through the right portal, facing out. He has a rather serious expression on, looking at his own image rather intently as he talks quietly. "...we engaged. I had one of the Cypers zeroed and..." There he breaks off and shakes his head, brows furrowing slightly as he tries to rethink the words. Silent for a moment, one might even see the gears grinding in his head.
Isolde is in her bunk, curtain drawn back and she appears to be reading off a tablet-style book. She sighs a little as she hears Kell starting to practice again, and she sets her book against her chest. She looks out from her spot, frowning slightly. "Just tell them the way it happened, Razor. Like... just how you remember it. They aren't going to obsessively critque your word-choice. They just want to know what happened." She glances toward Lyn now, offering her a light frown of concern -- for Kell, of course.
Lyn has been quietly listening to Kell rehearse for the last little bit. She leans back in her chair, turning her head to call to him, "Just tell them what happened. Stop overthinking it! You weren't in the wrong!" It's like a chorus from the muses to try and get him to just. Stop. Reciting it. She looks at Isolde and gives her a return look of worry.
Having zoned out or rather too zoned into his own little testimony of what he will be saying in front of the panel of senior officers, Kell didn't realize that he was either being too loud or just concerned about getting his words right. The almost synchronized words from both Isolde and Lyn nas the Ensign suddenly very aware that the others are hearing him and most likely getting annoyed with his repetition. Running a hand through his hair, he releases a sigh and a quick apology, "Sorry, sorry. I'm just trying to get what I remembered in my head to come out smoothly." The other two can hear the sound of his locker closing and then Kell steps around the bunk that his is backed up to. Approaching the table and seat in the middle, the one that Lyn isn't using as a footrest, he leans against the edge of it, "Apologies, didn't realize I was overdoing it. I'm just... worried."
Lyn's stereo response gets a light smile from Pi before she sits up, swinging her legs out. She slides off the bunk and opens her locker. She pulls out the most contraband of contraband: a bag of potato chips. She slumps over to the table to join Kell, and releases the bag clip around the treasured snack. She stretches a bit before she gestures. "Okay. Recite it for us. Tell us what happened." She shrugs a shoulder. "Think of it like rehersal." She takes out a chip and starts to gnosh.
"Don't be worried Razor," Lyn insists. "For starters, you didn't do anything wrong. On top of that, the CF really can't afford to lose any pilots at this point. Sick bay is full, the techs are working 24/7 to repair the birds, and we have a long way to go to win this war." She closes the book and tosses it on the table. The chips get eyed, and the salivary glands start working at the very thought of them.
Looking over at Lyn, Kell shakes his head slightly, "I know I didn't do anything wrong. I'm just... concerned about the politics. Major Webb says that he will have our backs for sure, but I'm afraid of what may be coming down higher up on the paygrade. I'm sure the media is and will continue to have a field day with this incident, remember what happened to Leftenant Drake, when she was ambushed by that reporter when we were still in the relief stages?" The Viper jock then looks over at Isolde and frowns, "I think I'll spare you two another repeat of what I'm going to say at the inquiry. I'm sure everyone will get to hear it."
"Take one. My mother taught me to share." Isolde offers the bag out to Lyn, grinning as she does. Then she looks back at Kell, nodding in sharp agreement. "Look, the Cancerons failed to signal. We've been fighting with Cylon-flying Vipers for a while now. Everything makes sense. Everything." She then nods a bit, frowning at the weight surrounding the Ensign's shoulders. "I don't know a lick about how to deal with the media. The only time I was ever questioned by them was after I hacked... uh... the Caprican Transportation Services computers."
"And people wonder why I'm still just a sergeant at my age," Lyn chuckles. "Rank just gets you more shit. And more paperwork. I hate paperwork." She stretches her toes and then pulls her legs to tuck up under her. "I have to make sure to do something to piss a big wig off every now and then so I stay below the promotion radar." She takes one of the chips and savors the salty, fatty crunch. She raises both brows at Isolde. "Now that sounds like a story I need to hear."
An amused smirk appears when Kell hears about paperwork from Lyn, "My parents used to complain about the same thing as well. My mother always ended up bringing home some work too when she took leave, so she wasn't just kidding." He then looks back to Isolde and blinks, leveling an incredulous expression at her, "You did what?" As if he didn't hear her correctly the first time.
"I just make Van do my paperwork." Isolde chews on a bit of chip, and she looks between Lyn and Kell when they hone in on her confession. She finishes her chip, looking a bit sheepish as she does. "Um. Well." She clears her throat. "I was sixteen, and... I spent a lot of time on the holobands, and in the Net, and I was extremely good at everything I did. I just wanted to see if I could, so I hacked into the Transportation systems and caused a few trains to go off their courses." She breathes in deeply, shoulders coming together a bit. "It's how I ended up in the Tauron Military. It was either that, or jail."
"Wow," Lyn comments. "That is awesome! Well not the jail or military part, but I can just imagine the looks on their faces." She chuckles gets up gingerly, retrieving her book. "I need to go get some sleep. I have to be up stupidly early for them to take all the thread out they sewed me up with. You guys have a good night." With that the marine heads to her rack.
After the injured Marine returns to her bunk and closes the privacy shutter, Kell looks back to Isolde and says with a quieter tone, perhaps more self-conscious of himself from earlier. "That is quite a feat, being able to crack your way into a central government system like that. Though when you say off their courses... I hope you meant misrouting them. Not like... you know." Derailing them, though he suspects its most certainly the former and not the latter. Isolde doesn't look like the the type that would add injury into her chaos and mayhem. More innocent fun than anything else. "I'm sure most people would have picked the same option as you. Nothing wrong with being in the military." This coming from a military brat.
"Oh, Gods. Yes. Misrouting." Isolde looks almost mortified at the idea of being more than a nussance to the Capricans. She breathes out a slow exhale as she settles into another chip, munching away. Then she shrugs a shoulder a bit. "I actually suspect my dad made sure that option was there... my father is one of those Master Sergeants that liked to throw his weight around if needed." She offers a smirking smile. "We both have military dads, don't we?"
Kell nods rather easily at her question, "I have a military mother and father, and I know what you mean. Father wasn't a Master Sergeant but he was an office in the Libran Marines, so order and discipline was stressed when I was growing up. My mom was in the navy, so she wasn't strict like my father, but she saw sense in the way he raised me." So that is why Razor is usually quiet and reserved, product of his upbringing.
The Tauron woman looks a little abashed. "My dad was just a street kid until he enlisted. He takes a lot of pride and puts in a lot of value to his time in the marines. I guess he assumes that it saves everyone... even his lawless daughter." She offers a small quirk of a smile before she then offers out the bag of chips. "Don't be nervous, Razor." She starts to smile. "You're a good person and a good pilot, and you don't even have to be told to look regretful. You've worn that face around here for days."
When the chips are offered a second time, Kell isn't able to resist and reaches out for one, "Thanks." The treat makes that satisfying crunch sound as he munches away, "Was it that bad? I thought I tried to keep it hidden, didn't want it to affect anyone else." He does sound slightly embarrased and even a little disappointed in himself, "I just can't wait until the inquiry is over, and they decide what to do. Then it'll be behind us, one way or another." Releasing a slow sigh, a rare smile appears, "Thanks for the kind words, Pi. I appreciate it."
"That's an impossible thing to hide, to be fair." Isolde shifts in her seat, also indulging in another chip. "I could never hide it. But that's the point, right? If you didn't walk around like you got a thousand-pound weight on your shoulders, then we'd be worried." She looks up at him, and she dimples almost adoringly. "You can always find me for a confidence boost. I like giving them." She reaches out to give his hand a squeeze.
Fingers drumming the table idly, Kell never really considered what Isolde just said until it was brought to light, "I guess you are right, Pi, never really thought of it that way. It would be pretty messed up if you can just show up to work like normal the next day after shooting down a friendly." The reassuring squeeze on his hand earns her another appreciative smile, "Guess growing up, I learned to be more reserved. Keeping any issues more to myself, since parents were assigned to the ICJPK for a couple of tours, I didn't get to see them much once I was at an age where I could take care of myself."
"See? I'm always here to make things make more sense." Isolde grins at him before she starts to close up the bag of chips. She puts the clasp back into place, and then she looks up at him. "You talk to Van yet about all this? You two fly together pretty often. He might be a good person to have in your corner."
At the mention of Van's name, Kell nods his head, "He was the first one to talk to me after the incident happened, when I was just sitting in my Viper while on Alert Five duty. Seems like all of the deckies on duty that day had heard about what happened." So Isolde can easily imagine how it looked on the flight deck, him having super cooties or something. "Leftenant Newton is a very good pilot, heard he went through some pretty heavy stuff when the Cylons hit Picon. Definitely took skills and a lot of mental fortitude to be able to survive something like that."
"Newton is good people, as well as a good pilot." Isolde blushes a bit. "But I'm a little biased. For obvious reasons." She then starts to laugh at herself, rubbing at a pink cheek. She stands up so she can put away the chips. "When do you go in front of the... people who are to judge you?"
An amused chuckle escapes from Kell when he sees Isolde blushing slightly at the mention of how she thinks of Van, "Well, biased or not, I fully concur with your statement. It was definitely a relief when he came up to my plane and talked to me." The Ensign's worst fear was that after shooting down one of their own, people would start resenting him or hating him, or treating him like he is inflicted by some sort of bad luck curse. As for her question, Kell releases a sigh again, "In a couple of days, have to stand in front of a panel to give my testimony. I think everyone who flew that mission has to."
"Panel, that's what it's called." Isolde smiles toward him before she steps up to ruffle up his hair. "You'll be alright. And when it's done, we will all take you out to get totally hammered." She laughs then, but her laughter sounds a little tired. "Now... stop rehearsing. I've got to get some sleep and if I hear you stutter the word 'target' one more time, I think I'll have nightmares." She's surely teasing him, and does it well with her light smile.
Looking somewhat abashed at what happened earlier, Kell wrinkles his nose when she ruffles his hair like he's some kid brother, "When it's done, shore leave definitely starts though I don't think getting hammered is necessary." Though if it ends up going badly, maybe more alcohol will be the answer, "I'll probably get changed and hit the gym, work the punching bag a bit. No more rehearsing for me. Honest." Even he is a little tired of it himself, and after speaking to Isolde and Lyn, Kell can see how he is putting extra, unnecessary stress on himself. "Thanks again, Pi." With that, he pushes away from the table to return to his locker, to grab a change of clothes.