2237-06-17 - Kell's An Ace!

Kell gets surprised with cake! Bonuses: Van's callsign backstory revealed. Astraea and Bami talk Scorpia after everyone else has wandered off.

Date: 2237-06-17

Location: Ready Room, Vanguard

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1140

Jump to End

If Kell had any inkling that something was in store for him, he most likely would have made himself rather elusive. Instead, to the young Viper pilot, it's just another day of completing his duties and with his free time, he is in the Ready Room again. With Picon in full swing and Cylon presence significant, the Ensign has been watching a lot of flight footage and gun camera videos. Some have been his, some have been other pilots that made them available. At the moment, he occupies one of the desks and as usual, he is watching the footage on the personal screen instead of the big screen. Earbuds are plugged in, notepad being scribbled on from time to time when he sees something important that he may need to review again later or just something that he needs to be aware of. It's pretty much silent right now in the Ready Room as Kell is the only occupant.

Van is a man on a mission. Luckily, he's pretty sure that his quarry is one of two or three places. And since he's not in the berthings or the mess hall... Van pauses outside the Ready Room, a faint smile on his lips. He turns back to his accomplice(s), puts a finger to his lips, then composes his features, turns around, and opens the door, walking in. He spots his target immediately, and heads over in Kell's direction.

He doesn't interrupt right away, instead moving across the Libran's field of vision and then glancing over his shoulder. He nods once when he sees gun-cam footage, and watches through to the end of the pass before he offers out his hand. When Kell responds, he adds a nod, "Congratulations, Razor. On making Ace. You probably could have been there before now if you weren't such a good wingman. It's a very valuable skill."

Isolde is standing back with the other pilots, and she looks over the cake that Astraea has baked. She actually starts to grin, head tilted slightly. "I could never get down baking. Everything ended up flat." Then she looks after Van as he enters, and she gets a bit excited before she steps in, holding the hatch open for Astraea and whoever else is coming in with them. "Surprise!" She squeaks, waving her fingers in the air in celebration.

It took a fair bit of bribery for Astraea to get time in the kitchens. Specifically to bring in her bottle of rum. One of the few bits of luxury the Scorpian pilot has on board. Unlike most of her wingmates, she doesn't have things like a music player, vidplayer, or holoband. But she does have some very nice rum out of her home region on Scorpia and it went into the cake she's got. It's not big, elaborate, nor does it have multiple tiers. What it does have, however, is a glaze. And the strong scent of citrus fruits. She's wearing her duty blues, freshly pressed, and balancing the tray the cake is on carefully... a number of paces away from the exuberant Isolde. Just in case the ECO gets a bit too flail-y in the limbs. No need for the dessert to go flailing off in some direction. Someone has been tasked with plates and forks, but she's got a server clutched in her fingers against the tray. When Asa goes barging in suddenly, Nova rolls her eyes, but follows a few strides after. Hey, at least there's no pinup girl artwork to be seen. Yet.

Verity arrives in the ready room while dressed in a pilot jump suit. Her red hair is pulled back into a braid, keeping it free from her face. She isn't well known around this ship and is likely a recent transfer. She has a smile of greeting for those gathered here and her attention strays to the cake. She looks tempted. "Greetings."

Calliope is just getting off duty. She heard this was happening, though, so she comes running. In flight suit, helmet tucked under one arm, hair still in the helmet-smashed ponytail she wears in the cockpit. "Razor! Hi! Good job making ace! You're awesome! Totally earned! Always glad to have you in my section! I heard there was cake!" She might be excited as much about the cake as about Kell's accomplishment.

Stirling had nothing to do with the preparations, but she wasn't about to let a congratulatory party go on without her, so here she is - trailing along a little behind the others.

Verity grabs cake and zooms out with her treat.

Having people come into the Ready Room while Kell is watching footage isn't anything new and when the rookie pilot's peripheral vision catches movement, he looks up and spots the familiar face. Hands go up and remove the earbuds, letting them hang around his neck before he blinks at Van about making ace. Then he looks over to the kill board and realizes that he did achieve his fifth kill on the other mission. Rising to his feet, he shakes the proffered firmly, "Thanks Lieutenant, didn't even realize it..." Which is true in the Ensign's case as he has always felt like he was playing catch up in gaining experience and learning. "I'm just glad to be flying with everyone. Funny enough, doesn't feel any different before and after my fifth kil..." Well, he spoke too soon because the surprise from the others definitely catches Kell off-guard. His gaze shifts to the hatch and those that filter in, being left completely speechless for now.

Having just arrived from the mess hall, Bami was there for one reason and one alone. Cake. He's in his off-duty clothes, although the tanktop has been ditched for just the long-sleeve with said sleeves rolled up. When the cake is presented all of his attention is on that bit of candied confection.

Van looks up as his accomplices burst into the room, rolling his eyes good-naturedly and shaking his head. He looks back to Kell, "Now see, I was going to give you a line about how I wouldn't make a big scene about things, and then have them burst in. I think Izzy got over-excited." The last is delivered with a faintly-crooked grin for Isolde. "But that's a good thing, Razor. As long as you're focused on protecting your wingman, no matter who he or she may be, and on getting the Toasters down, no matter who gets the kill, you're good in my book." And then Van gestures to the cake, "I don't think you want to annoy Nova by refusing any of the cake, by the way. I heard she stared down one of the giant marines in the berthings earlier."

Isolde beams at Kell before she sticks out her tongue at Van. Then she shoves her hands into the pockets of her off-duties, meandering along with Astraea and her cake. She flashes a quick grin at Calliope before she gestures with a shrug to Kell. "Cm'on, we're not even going to ask that you make a speech, but you're definitely having cake!" She then finds a bit of table to lean her hip into.

"Considerin' that at least one of them kills came as a result of savin' m'ass, I had t'show m'appreciation, Razor." Astraea flashes the Libran pilot a grin, weaving her way through the chairs and desks to one alongside the one Kell has been occupying, setting down the tray with the cake. Might be why she's all in her duty blues, too. A sort of a nod to Kell's own tendency to be all ironed edges. This close, he'll be able to smell the rum. Not so cloying that it'd be at risk of getting them all drunk, but there is definitely alcohol either in the cake, glaze, or perhaps both. This is what you get with tropical island desserts. Most of them have alcohol in some way, shape, or form. Whoever has the plates and forks is waved in nearer as she starts using the edge of the server to cut out squares. There's a glance up at Van's warning and she offers a winning sort of grin. "We're buildin' a list as to which of 'em gets to play door should m'hatch ever get blown off." Spotting Bami edge his way in, she offers a nod to the ECO.

"We are so having cake!" Calliope beams at Isolde, before turning back to Kell and his footage. "I mean, not that we want to interrupt anything important, but you've earned a mini-party. Especially after all that work you and Cherry put in on the checklist procedures. That could not have been easy, but I think it's really helping tighten things up." Bami gets a quick wave, and she points to the cake. There is cake!

"No speech? Now I'm disappointed," says Stirling with a light smile. "Congratulations, Ensign," she offers quietly.

"Wow..." Kell finally manages to say, not exactly gifted with a silver tongue right now and his previous experiences in life never offered him something like this before. No surprise birthdays from his parents, though anything they had time off, it was cherished. Luckily, he doesn't just run out of the Ready Room, instead he looks at everyone present and at Astraea who is protecting the cake, "Thank you everyone, really, it wasn't necessary. But definitely thanks." He does offer an uncharacteristically wide smile at those he has flown before. "Nah, nothing important is interrupted, just spending time reviewing more flight footage." Then Razor's eyes catches the CAG and realizes that the Major is present. Reflexes is to snap to attention and bring up a sharp salute, but this isn't exactly a formal setting, so he's stuck hesitating between doing so and not.

Van's brows raise at Astraea's response about the Marines as he starts to pass out cake, first to Kell and then the others, "Do you think Marines are space-worthy? Or is it just to keep the bullets from getting into the Raptor? Either way, I think that the Colonial Marine Corps may officially frown on such use of their resources." The fingers of his right hand rub together in a slightly nervous, twitchy gesture, and then he fills his hand with one of the later plates of cake instead, chuckling at Stirling's comment, "It may not be necessary, but I think it does everyone good."

The Tauron is already accepting cake, and she beams at it. "Looks delicious, Nova." Her eyes flick to Kell again, and she shakes her head. "You're way too modest, Razor. You should take the celebration... I think it's really important to revel now and then." She then peeks over at Bami when Nova nods his way. She is then distracted by Soundbite. "I second that." She nods to Kell. "Those procedures are great. You should totally take some pride there."

Bami returns the wave to Calliope. His gaze follows her pointing to the cake, and he nods in turn. "It's been so long since I've had anything that's sweet and came out of a kitchen. The candies I had on the way weren't awful, but there's really no replacing the real thing."

"Y'kept turnin' down thanks b'fore-" Astraea slides a piece of cake onto a plate and offers it out to Razor. "So eat some cake, yeh?" Once she's sure he's been served, she's quick to get slices out to everyone else. Including Stirling. Her own is saved for last. There's a shrug for Van's assessment. "Dunno. Marines talk like they can handle everythin'... Why not space, too?" There's a flash of a grin. "Gotta use th'fleet's resources ta th'best of our abilities, yeah?"

Calliope straightens her posture when Stirling enters. Or tries to. She's a tall girl and given to habitual slouching. "Hi, Major. We were just breaking into the cake." She gets her own slice and promptly digs in with the provided fork. "Yeah, Nova, this is stellar. Wish I could bake. I never really advanced beyond take-out." Bami gets a nod. "Yeah, tell me about it. I got a bag of candy from our last stop on Scorpia, but I'm more than half-way done with it. I will take extra sugar where I can get it."

The CAG's words does bring a sheepish expression onto Kell's face as he shakes his head, "Thank you sir. I'm not exactly good at giving speeches so it's best to skip it and go right to what everyone is looking forward to, the cake." It seems like the Ensign isn't going to reject the offer of cake and impromptu celebration, he's not a complete stick in the mud. And when Astraea shoves some cake in front of him, Razor accepts it with a word of thanks so he doesn't hold up the line. As for her answer to Van, Kell can't help but laugh lightly in amusement, "She got you there, Milkman." Then he looks at Isolde and flashes her a grin, "Thanks, it did take a lot of time to write it up. Plus, it wouldn't have been completed with your help and others as well."

"Relax, Razor," Stirling says, still smiling, "No need to salute at your own party. Thank you," she says to Astraea when she's handed a slice of cake.

Van takes a bite of the cake, then blinks, chewing a little more slowly. When he swallows, he blinks again, "Wow. That is... potent. Delicious, but potent." Still, he nods at Astraea's response and Kell's reinforcement, "Far be it from me to contest the claims of the Marines." Adding a flash of a smile, he continues, "Unless I'm in a Viper and beyond rifle range." And then further bites of cake go down his cake-hole in quick succession, although he swallows enough to note to Stirling, "Does that mean that the rest of us should, Whisper?" It's... mostly teasing. There's still enough uncertainty with the new CAG that there's a touch of real question there.

"I tried to bake once," Isolde confides to Calliope. "DId you know that it is possible for a cake to come out of the oven flatter than how it went into the oven. My mom was really impressed." She dimples lightly as she continues to munch on her cake. Her gaze flickers up to Stirling in passing, smiling politely to the Major. She glances toward Van at his inquiry about saluting, and she looks at her plate and Calliope's plate.

Bami's brow quirks at the mention of Scorpia, and he nods once more in response. "It's not all bad if you get out to Argentum Bay or my home town, Aurum. Aurum's a bit better with sweets, but I may be just a teeny bit biased." The Scorpian then idly makes his way over to the cake, hands behind his back as if waiting for the right moment to snag a piece.

When Van asks about saluting, Astraea does glance down at the duty blues she's wearing. Saluting doesn't generally happen indoors, buuuut... she could go to attention. With cake in hand. The woman's stance does begin to adjust, just in case. The newly-transferred jig watches the others out of the corners of her eyes, as if taking cues from their actions. "Th'trick," she notes to Isolde, overhearing the Tauron, "is t'bake things so dense an' heavy wit' fruits an' sugars that they don't need t'bake up like that." And really, the cake is almost more of a bread-like consistency than anything fluffy. The glaze that's soaked into it certainty helps. Potent as it may be, a slice is still going to be less rum than one might have in a shot of the stuff. They won't have to worry about 'drinking and flying.' But it's a nice break, perhaps. There's a glance towards Bami and she scoffs, faintly, but does reach out to offer a plate his way. "That's just 'cause th'best desserts were served at home in my town."

"No unless you all here are way more stuck on ceremony than I'm used to," Stirling offers blandly to Van, sounding amused between bites of cake. Otherwise she just hangs back and listens to the conversation about baking.

Falling silent, Kell takes the moment to enjoy the cake, forking one piece into his mouth and being surprised by the taste as he takes Stirling's advice. It's been a while since he has been able to enjoy something that good. He takes a bite of a second piece before saying to Astraea, "This is /really/ good." Razor then lapses back into silence to enjoy the cake and just listen to the conversations going on, making note of Stirling's answer to Van. Perhaps he is also trying to learn a bit more about their new CAG who is definitely different than Webb. She's already displayed that out there in her Raptor on the missions they've flown.

"Huh what?" Calliope blinks, in mid-cake bite, at mention of saluting. She doesn't but, like Astraea, her posture gets even straighter. She's at a proper non-slouch now. There's a laugh when Stirling says it isn't necessary. "And yeah. Stuff like this is a really nice break, especially so close to Picon." Head tilts at Bami. "You're a Scorpia guy, too? Nice. I'm from Caprica." Obviously. She has a piping accent that's pure Caprica City.

Isolde actually starts to grin around a bite of cake at Stirling's response. Van, stuck on ceremony? No, go on. She even gives Calliope a look where she's trying to convey that sentiment before she takes another bite of cake. Her focus then turns toward Nova, happy for a distracting about baking lessons. "I actually kind of miss my mom's snap cookies. But I can't remember how they are made, what was in them, or have any guidance to give the mess."

Van nods at Stirling's response, balancing his fork on his plate to smooth down the front of his own neatly-pressed blues, "Maybe only a little bit, sir. If at all." He might still be joking, but if he is, it's quite dry. And then he takes the opportunity to point over to Isolde, "And her mother knows what she's talking about when it comes to baking. Good food is her job." Van is pretty much already done with his cake. Apparently, he's in the 'hungry as hell' section of trying to kick nicotine. Calliope's reminder that they're not far (astronomically speaking) from his home colony causes a little tension to seep back into Van's shoulders, but he still nods.

"In your dreams," Bami is quick to reply to Astraea. "My moms and grandmama made cakes that'd have you questioning reality." He then gets his own cake and fork, and after a bite he tries not to let the building hum at the back of his throat grow too loud. The ECO begrudgingly admits, "It's not half bad." He soon turns his attention to Calliope, and nods. "Yep. I'm from Aurum Hills, but I'd love to visit Caprica one day. I always read stuff about it, but never really saw it."

The praise Kell offers regarding the cake earns a broad grin from Astraea. "Thanks." As much for his praise as for the fact that he's actually enjoying himself. She has a few bites herself, but seems to be taking it slow. Then again, as the baker, she got to taste test along the way. Tilting her head in Isolde's direction, the woman furrows her brow. "Ain't heard of snap cookies. I'd hafta try one t'even have an idea of how they're made." Different colonies, different cultures. She knows spicy foods and things made with a lot of syrupy, citrusy fruits. Like the cake in question. With a glance Van's way, there's the proverbial lightbulb and Nova points at him with her fork. "Oh! Milkman. Been wonderin'... How many wives didja sleep wit' 'fore y'got saddled wit' yer callsign? Had a bit of a bet goin'. I figgered it was four, but there's a couple deckies sayin' it was six." Gotta love those assumptions as to callsign origins.

"That so?" Stirling's amusement continues at Van's reply. And then when Astraea asks about the callsign, she pauses her fork halfway to her mouth, looking perplexed.

When Van's callsign and its origin is brought to the forefront, Kell appears to be very interested, almost taking Astraea's words seriously. It is indeed a very unique callsign, as he can't make any connection at all between being a milkman and flying Vipers. A total blank.

"Aurum Hills? Never been," Calliope says to Bami. "I didn't get far outside Argentum Bay, and the stuff around the shipyards, when I was on Scorpia. Parts of it are really pretty, though. Caprica is...parts of it are just like the vids. Only...more Caprican. Parts of it are just...normal. My mom's apartment in South Side Cap City survived the initial attacks pretty much intact, because there were never many Cylons there. Probably looks like any other super old part of town on another planet." Astraea's question to Van makes her cackle. "Oh my gods! Is that where he told you it came from?"

Isolde is about to explain Van's comment about her mom before she starts to choke on her bite of cake. It is of course Nova's fault for this. It takes a few beats to her chest before she's laughing. She is almost snortling with her laughter, turning away from the entire gathering to get her composure back.

Van is taken completely off-guard by Astraea's question, looking up wide-eyed from scraping crumbs off his plate with his fork. His cheeks and ears pink slightly, and he shakes his head, setting his fork down on his plate to rub at the back of his neck with his right hand, "Um... nothing like that." In fact, he's thrown far enough off his game that he doesn't even go with his usual cover story, protesting to Calliope, "No! Nothing like that!" Shaking his head again, he starts over, "While I was serving as a Raptor pilot with the ICJPK on Sagittaron, I complained that all of my missions were milk runs." In other words, he was young and dumb. Which may still be the case. "My CO said that if I had better get used," his lips twist into a slight grimace of distaste, "to being a milkman for the rest of my career."

Bami nods, but doesn't do much to hide his na�ve thoughts of Caprica. "Yeah, but a lot of the movies my family watched came straight from there. I wanna visit at least once, maybe even get an autograph or two from a few actors." That last admission comes with a brief chuckle, although he bursts into laughter after Van's storytelling. He tries his best to hide, but the snickering he does behind his hand doesn't amount to much.

"I'm from Tybarre. Small town on one of th'islands in Argentum. Ain't much of a tourist spot anymore, t'be honest." Was at one time, but other, larger Clans have sort of beaten it down into a less savory sort of place. Astraea watches Van for his reply, clearly keen on finding out the answer. And when it comes? Well, that's disappointing! It's a no-win situation, which is a sad ending to any bet. Even if it means you don't lose. She blinks a few times at the much-less-exciting story than the one she was expecting. "Oh. Well." The Raptor pilot blinks a few times. "I... s'ppose y'ain't a milkman no more, at least. But now I gotta go let th'deck know that y'ain't some lady's man back home like they're all thinkin'." Or trying to puzzle out the how's and why's, more likely. But Nova's a polite sort, more or less. She finishes her own slice of cake and looks to what remains on the tray, then to Kell. She leans over to nudge the man with her elbow. "Rest of it's yours. Y'can share or keep it t'yerself. Yer call."

It takes Isolde a good two minutes to pull herself together, and she's still a bit red when she turns back around. "Oh gosh..." She breathes. "Okay. I'm definitely spreading that rumor around." She looks encouragingly to Van. "Maybe it will make a better story!" Then she hears a soft beeping in the depths of her pocket, and pulls out a wrist watch that is not, at the moment, on her wrist. "Oops. I'm late!" She then looks around, smiling as she does. "See you all later." She starts to edge for the door, waving behind her as she does. "Congrats again, Razor! And thanks for the cake, Nova!"

Kell can't help but smile when he watches Van's reaction, the Lieutenant usually very composed so this is a surprising change. Then when the real version of how Milkman came to be, Razor can't help but shake his head as if disappointed. He points his fork in Astraea's direction, "I like Nova's version better. But it makes sense now, and I agree with Nova, there are no milk runs here with the Timberwolves." When the care of the rest of the tray is handed off to him, the Ensign arches a brow, "Er.... well, there are other pilots that aren't here so I think we can get the word out that they can come enjoy a piece before it is all gone." It is very tempting to keep it all to himself though. Very. When Isolde moves to depart, Razor offers a departing wave before finishing the rest of the cake up that remains on his plate.

"Careful, Pie. Choking on cake would not do your callsign justice," Stirling offers wryly once she sees that Isolde is not, in fact, actually choking. For a minute there she wasn't sure. She finishes off her cake too and says, "I should head out as well. Thank you for the cake - and congratulations Razor."

"I'll keep that in mind, Whisper," Isolde offers as she departs, heading for the Raptors as she does.

Van glances over to Isolde at Astraea's words, grimacing a little before he inquires of the Scorpian, "Gods, I don't give that impression, do I?" Shaking off the question, he lets out a breath, "No... I haven't had a milk run beyond routine CAP in a while." There's a heavy weight to those words, and he starts to pat down his pockets unconsciously for a cigarette pack that isn't there anymore, only to freeze a little at Isolde's suggestion, "Wait, what? You're going to spread that?" He sounds... maybe a little horrified. The blush is still lingering, of course. He gives Isolde a little wave, and then Stirling one that is quite a good deal less intimate, much nearer a sketchy salute (palm out, of course). "Thank you for stopping by, Whisper. I'll catch up to you for dinner, Izzy."

Calliope smiles at Bami. "We'll get back there eventually. Part of me wants to." Another part? She glance at Van, and doesn't finish that thought, though her look is one of sympathy before it's quickly diverted. To Astraea, she nods. "I need to get outside the tourist areas more the next time I'm on Scorpia. Maybe you guys can show me around." She bids a quick bye to Isolde, and keeps working through her cake.

Bemi slips into silence as Van continues on. The only thing that keeps him from frowning is the cake he's currently shoveling into his mouth. He reaches for a napkin then, and wipes away at his mouth while looking between those speaking.

"If y'liked this, I can make a flan sometime," Astraea offers to Kell in a quiet voice. "Much smaller. Personal sized an' all." She grins a bit. "Iff'n I'd known sweets were all it took ta get ya smilin'..." She perches on the edge of a desk after setting her empty plate with the growing pile, tugging at the edge of her duty jacket as Isolde and Stirling both prepare to depart. There's a nod for ECO and CAG both before the jig's attention shifts to Van. She grins. "Naw, y'don't, which only makes it all th'more entertainin' ta tell." At Calliope's mention of getting outside the tourist areas, however, Nova's expression sobers considerably. "Ye'll wanna guide fer that fer sure. Depends on what Clans are doin' what... Don't wanna walk int' conflict or th'wrong territory... Can be real dangerous dependin' on where ya go."

Kell can only shake his head at Astraea, "Your efforts are definitely appreciaetd and this was very much a surprise." There is a pause before he asks a bit quieter, "The alcohol is burned off right? I have Alert Five duty soon actually." And when he glances at his watch, the frown returns, "Which I should actually start prepping for shortly." Meaning he should begin to get changed into his flightsuit and start getting ready for the pre-flight stuff that is required, even though he won't be launching unless called for.

Van relaxes a little at Astraea's reassurances, "Good, good." Once more, he rubs at the back of his neck, waiting until Stirling is out of the room (and Isolde is a bonus there, even if she knows), and then noting, "Because I was a bit more... party-centric, shall we say? At the Academy. But no milkman visits, certainly." He adds his plate to the stack, then starts to gather the stack up, "I'm on Alert Five myself next shift. I'll drop these off in the mess and then meet you back here, Razor? And yes, thank you, Nova, for doing the baking."

"Yeah, I should hit the showers. I smell like four hours of Raptor," Calliope says, after she's swallowed the last of her cake. "Congrats again, Razor! Awesome baking, Nova! Bye, people!" And with that, she's off.

"Mostly," Astraea answers Kell in an equally quiet voice. She grins, a bit. "Jog back ta th'barracks an' ye'll be fine. But iff'n ya ever wanna shot, just lemme know. I'll be glad ta share wit' ya." There's a bump of shoulders for the pilot before she helps Van with stacking the plates. "You? Party?" She scoffs. "I'd hafta meet yer classmates ta confirm that." But she’s bobbing her head in a nod at the appreciation. "I don't mind. I like bakin'. It's a nice little break from everythin' else. Mebbe if we all make it ta next leave, I'll make somethin' nice an' spicy fer th' Wolves."

Bami, for his part, continues chowing down on cake while the others make their various departures for the evening. He gives his goodbyes and waves to those leaving, and finishes off his now third slice of cake. Third charm proves to be the charm as he trashes his plate, fork, and the napikins he's accrued during the party. Once done he mosies back over to the likely empty tray, and asks, "Why ain't you a cook back there with stuff like this?"

As other members of the air wing have come and gone to have their share, Astraea has found an actual chair to sit in and just hang out. She's divested herself of her duty jacket and just sat back to chat and get to know some more people. When Bami approaches with the question, she glances up to him and snorts. "'Cause that ain't how it works. Everyone's..." She trails off, letting out a sigh as she tries to find the right words. The woman looks to the large screens at the front of the room, currently dark. "I mean, it's all sorta... chosen fer ya, back home. Most families who own restaurants, it all gets passed down. I learned this shit from my ma an' her sisters. But... bein' a cook wasn't in th'cards iff'n I'd stayed." She leans back in the chair, kicking her feet up on the desk. "Plus, it's more fun as a hobby sometimes."

"I know that deal. My folks're farmers, and I was gonna do the same before I enlisted," he notes with a brief smile. "It is /not/ at all what I expected, although I wouldn't havedone anything else. It's the price I paid to change my hand, and play the game to my choosing." He tugs at the front of his shirt, his smile fading. "Just about the same uniform, but a lot less tending to cattle at least. I do wish I paid a bit more attention back then, though. Maybe learned a bit more about my folks before shipping off."

"Pretty sure m'odds of blowin' up went down considerably by enlistin'," Astraea offers in a wry tone. But then, parts of Scorpia see a fair bit of war as clans clash. Always have. She glances sidelong at the tray and how little cake remains. There's a satisfied look on her features. Every cook likes seeing the fruits of their labor enjoyed. "'m sure y'can spend some time next leave visitin' 'em. From what I've heard from folks, they tend t'go back t'Scorpia fer a week or two after each campaign. Just... seems ta be a few months between, so it might be a while. 'specially wit' how rough things are down on Picon."

"Ya got me there," he answers with a shrug. "Most we have had to really worry about was keeping the yields up, or folks might get kneecapped. Was a fun childhood, I'll tell you that." The smile fades then, and he shakes his head rolls his shoulders. "I'll have to look forward to that. What about you? You got anything look forward to back home?"

"So, yer own version of bookies, then?" Astraea tilts her head slightly, trying to make sense of it. When he asks if she's got anything to look forward to, the woman frowns a bit and leans forward. "Uhm." She drops her feet off the desk, moving to stand. The tray and remaining, abandoned plates and forks are gathered up. A temporary distraction. "Naw, not really. Might stop in at th'bar an' see my brothers, but probably not."

Bami has to pause for a few moments of thought, and then nods after abit. "I never thought of 'em like bookies, but that makes a weird kinda sense." He moves off to the side, and grabs a chair to plop down in. "I mostly wanna get a few memoirs to keep with me aside from a few pictures and drawings. Probably hang it up near my bunk, and just have that little something."

"That... uh, that makes sense. Lotta folks got their... things. Trinkets an' shit." Astraea hasn't got much. Very little, really. There's a few folks aboard who are living more like refugees than actual officers. Ones who were on ships or bases that were heavily damaged or even destroyed. She's one of them. "I say go fer it. Good ta have reminders of why we do this thing, yeh?" She gathers up the tray, everything stacked nearly on it. "Photos're th'best, I think. Unless y'can afford onna them holobands, but... I ain't even looked at how much they cost. I know it ain't in th'cards fer me."

"Most I got is this." Bami stops to reach inside the pockets of his bottoms, and then comes out with a folded up piece of paper. After a few seconds of fidgeting with it he unfolds it to reveal the childlike scrawling of a ship amid the stars. "Olu drew it for me when I enlisted since she was the only one that loved my childhood dreams as much as I do. I can probably afford a holoband now, but that's too rich for my folks. Maybe grandad's old deck or grandma's recipes so I can put your baking to shame." A beat passes as he flashes a smile. "No offense."

There's a glance to the drawing and Astraea flashes a brief grin. "Oughta put it up in yer locker. Mebbe get some sorta frame fer it. Less risk of forgettin' it in th' laundry or somethin'." She shifts the tray slightly in her grasp before scoffing. "As if I'm th' only one on board who bakes anyhow. No offense taken. I don't wanna start bakin' fer everyone anyhow. I just figured I oughta be th' one ta do so fer Razor. It was a Raider on m'tail that got him Ace anyhow. An' I was tellin' him th' other day how he oughta let loose sometimes, so..." She shrugs, glancing down to the tray. "Seemed fittin' that I make th' cake, y'know?"

"I'd be afraid of it getting lost. I always empty my pockets when it comes time to clean. That's something daddy used to beat into use growing up." Bami lets out a laugh at that little memory, and appears all to happy to move past that. "Well that's sweet of ya, but I'm always for cake. Any sweets really, so long as it's actually made in a kitchen. Maybe if you make more cakes you can get everybody to loosen up." This is, of course, followed by a not at all subtle smile.

"Uh-huh. Just a minute ago, y'were talkin' 'bout puttin' m'bakin' ta shame. Now yer tryin' ta sweet-talk me int' makin' ya more cakes." Astraea starts angling her way out of the row of chairs and desks, doing her best not to drop the trays. "It don't work like that. Ya can't downplay th' food an' then try ta score more. An' it took effort gettin' time in th'kitchen ta begin wit'. I ain't doin' this fer just anyone or anythin'. Gotta be special."

Bami chuckles in response, and slowly nods. "Yeah, yeah. Can't blame a man for trying. I don't know how it's gonna go with the kitchen up here, but it feels good to actually have decent food for the first time in a long ass minute. But the cake was good, though. Shame it'd take more for more, but I don't blame you. I'd probably be the same way if it took extra work to make some crawfish gumbo."

"I prefer shrimp, m'self," Astraea offers, angling for the hatch. "Was thinkin' I might try ta convince th' galley to whip up some beans an' rice or maybe a good chicken stew. I ain't even gon' begin askin' about seafood. Even while we're over Picon. Can you imagine? Seafood onna ship?" She shakes her head sadly at the prospect. "But once I'm back groundside for a while, I don't plan on anythin' but." She ducks out then, to make her way back towards the kitchens. Likely expecting that he might follow.

Bami hops up from his seat, only a few paces behind Astraea. "I honestly wouldn't mind some leave to even look around for what Picon has to offer, really. Don't go telling too many people, but Scorpia's really the only place I knew for a while. So even some of the strange stuff out here's exciting. Even if it's not as good."

"I wouldn't mind it m'self," Astraea admits, glancing over at Bami. "Though I dunno what parts of Picon ain't at risk fer Cylon attack that we could even do that." She keeps to one side of the corridors, in case anyone comes running through. "Only place I been other'n Scorpia is Caprica, fer Academy. Not much of a... traveler like some folks, I s'ppose." She does the same for the stairs, up to the next deck. Keeping clear. "But warzones an' all ain't so good fer tourism."

Bami doesn't much follow behind Astraea and occupiest he other lane until it finally catches up to him. "Oh shit," he mutters, and hops right behind her. "You gotta point there. I still wanna visit a few places whenever I can. Maybe save up for a holoband for the family to have, but pictures'll have to do. Just get all the pictures I can for 'em, and let 'em know this isn't me throwing my life away."

"They'd be fools iff'n they think you puttin' yer life on th' line day in an' out ta protect th' colonies is throwin yer lie away," Astraea offers over her shoulder. She ducks into the Mess Hall at last and only so far as to drop the tray and plates into a bin for dirty dishes. Then she's off to a side table with sandwiches for mid-shift rations to grab a couple. Never know when you might be hungry for a snack. "Yer doin' work fer th' good o all mankind an' shit like that."

"Yeah, well, my folks don't much care for anything that ain't Scorpian. I used to be the same way until I started reading on the stars and the other colonies and everything else. It's just such a big, beautiful world out there, so frak the Cylons, really." Bami looks around for a bit, and after a moment shrugs. "Because, not much to explore if we're all dead. Ya know?"

Stuffing a sandwich into each pocket, Astraea heads back out of the mess into the corridor, but comes to a stop. Unsure where to go next. She's technically off-duty, even if she's still in her blues. She does start unbuttoning her jacket, to further exemplify this. "Pretty much. Gotta get rid of 'em so we can rebuild an' make it all worth explorin' again... As fer yer folks, well, that ain't too uncommon wit' our people. Nor a lot of other colonies, I don't think." She shrugs. "But once y'get out there, it just gets... addictive. Y'wanna see more an' more."

Astraea's actions earn a tilt of his head, and then a nod as she speaks. "But it doesn't have to be that way. It shouldn't be that way! If they just saw everything this place to offer I know they'd see it differently! If they'd just open their eyes, and-" He clears his throat before his voice rises higher, and he gets to yelling. "Sorry about that, but there just has to be some kinda way to make them care. It just doesn't make sense to me."

"It's just... diff'rent priorities an' all. Lookit some of th'other clans, yeh? Some care 'bout money or territories or... whathaveyou." Astraea finally opts to start heading for the lounge, fully pulling off her duty jacket to reveal the dual-tanks beneath. That's off-duty enough. "An' then look at... Caprica. Most of th'folks there just care 'bout partyin' or money. People're selfish, Meteor. Just... in their own sorta way."

Bami shakes his head in frustration as he follows. "They got family. Friends. If the Cylons win they lose all of that. Not just the money, parties, or whatever else people fraking care about." He then lets out his frustration with a protracted, frustated sigh. "I don't want it to be like shit here, and that be what it takes. It just isn't right."

"Naw, I'm just sayin'... Yer family ain't th'only ones who can't see beyond..." Astraea gestures, absently, as she makes her way into the lounge. She angles towards an unoccupied couch, flopping down into it. There's a look towards the vid screen and the Pyramid game currently playing. One of the recordings she's already seen. "Most folks are like that, I think. Caught up in their own lives an' world an' all. It's hard to learn ta look past it, y'know?"

Bami nods idly, gaze flitting to the couch. Without much ado he plops down on the couch, and lazily looks to the vid screen. "Man, I miss watching this shit with dad. We used to be caught up with it and a few movies as our own little thing to be absorbed in that wasn't in the fields. So I guess I get it, but even I could see the world beyond the clouds."

"I miss catchin' th'games live. Not havin' ta wait fer someone ta get a recordin' in th'mail." Astraea makes a bit of a face. "Sucks bein' behind on th'news. Or someone catches a snippet on th'radio durin' a mission an' ruin th'scores for everyone." She shakes her head slightly, reaching into her pocket for one of those sandwiches, unwrapping it to take a few bites. "War does that," she says around a mouthful. "Least that's what I think it is. Makes us realizes how wrapped up in our own lives we all were. I mean, even in th' clan skirmishes an' all that shit." She's got all kinds of tattoos from conflicts between her clan and others along her arms. Hyacinth definitely did not remain at peace. "We were caught up in our own shit."

For a few moments Bami is caught up staring over the visible tattoos, and only snaps back to attention at her last statement. "I kinda know what you mean. I changed out cow shit for big ass guns and ecm. I'll do what I can wherever I can, and just hope it doesn't ever get too bad for my people. I don't what's happening on Picon to be Scorpia's future. I don't want it to be anyone's future. Ever." He shrugs then, leaning back into the couch. "But what do I know?"

For a fellow Scorpian, they say a lot. Hyacinthe Clan. That she's a thief. Or was. That she's been in a fair few conflicts. Some successful. Some not. Astraea tears off bits of sandwich to eat. "Scorpia's been lucky so far, aye," she agrees, nodding. "But that's th'hope. That we can keep th'tides at bay. Work hard on planets like Picon, make 'em better an' keep th'rest of th'colonies from gettin' any worse."

Bami keeps his gaze on the vid screen, expression growing somber by the second. "Well, I know we can do it. We got people from all the colonies joining up, and even if it isn't all of them I've got faith. I don't want to just keep 'em at bay, and I don't believe it'll be just that. We'll win this." His disbelief is capped off with a wide smile, and all that hope fights away any darker thoughts of the actual prospects of war.

"Yeh, well... Hopefully yer right. I just gotta keep it real sometimes. 'Cause I'm here in this fleshy body an' they're out there all metal an' shit, able ta jes' make more of themselves." Astraea finishes off her sandwich, sinking back into the sofa. She kicks off her boots, drawing her legs up underneath her. A perk to being as small as she is; she can curl up on the furniture without taking up too much space. "Takes us 'bout eighteen years ta make 'nother marine or pilot. Can't keep up wit' 'em."

Bami can't help but to laugh at Astrae's last, and unlike most of the night doesn't fight to hide it. He then looks over the comfort she's found, almost a bit jealously. "This is very true. Probably for the best we can't make our own like that. The world ain't really meant for that kinda stuff. But we can do it. I know we can."


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