2237-06-20 - Recon Girls Gain Another

Kyle comes aboard the Vanguard and is given the 5 cubit tour.

Date: 2237-06-20

Location: Hangar Deck and Berthings -- Vanguard

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1144

Jump to End

A lot of the fighters are out on a mission at the moment, but the hangar deck still bustled with activity. A pair of Raptors are just being raised up the elevator from the landing deck below. One of them carries a marine squad returning from a mission planetside. As soon as the elevator stops and the hatch opens, Cate is one of the first out. Removing her helmet, she runs a hand through sweaty hair and glances back at the other marines who are filing out.

Lyn looks cranky, sweaty, a little dirty, and she has a leaf stuck in her hair. Apparently, the patrol they're back from had her climbing up a damned tree to get a better look around at all the nothing they encountered. She's in her tactical blacks, with her helmet in one hand as she hops out of the Raptor with Cate. "Oh, I might have forgotten to mention, when the chaplain was all doped up on morpha, he called me pretty." Then why is she scowling!?

The hatch from the second Raptor, one not filled to the guts with marines that smell like sweat and something two showers might not wash off, opens. The telltale clop of combat ready boots brings a female figure down the ramp and onto the deck, wearing newly minted duty khakis and pins ranking her as a Corporal. Transfer papers in one hand, the hazel-eyed brunette swings her duffel bag over one shoulder and starts on a path towards the walking line...right past Lyn and Cate.

The rumored scout being added to the roster? Not so much a rumor, it seems.

"You've got a.... here..." Cate helpfully reaches over to pluck the leaf from Lyn's hair. The comment about the chaplain gets a perplexed look. "You say it like that's a bad thing." She glances over at the unfamiliar marine passing by and lifts her helmet by way of a wave.

Lyn snorts at Cate. "Well it came on the heels of him announcing to me and the heavens that he doesn't feel it's remotely appropriate for him to have any relations with Wolves personnel because he's our shepherd or some shit. So yeah, it's kind of a bad thing." She watches as Kyle goes by. She'd seen the name added to the roster. And is momentarily surprised she is not a he. "Looks like the Vanguard's penchant for female recon continues. Poor Donny," she chuckles. "Corporal Costello?" she calls out to see if her guess is correct.

Squeak. The boots, not the woman, squeak and come to a stop at the sound of her name. The black boots come together and Kyle turns, looking down the line to Cate and Lyn, chin lifting their way with curious brows and a quick glance to the path towards them. Stopping in the middle of the walk on a ship can be treacherous; she hasn't caused a traffic jam. Sensing it clear, she turns and heads their way, clearing her throat upon approach. A quick glance to Cate's shoulders, then to Lyn's, and Kyle speaks up. "Sir. Sergeant." Cate, then Lyn, respectively. "Yes, I'm Corporal Costello, transfering in. On my way to intake.

"Just because he doesn't date in his 'flock' doesn't mean he's blind. Anyway, I think he's more into guys anyhow," Cate points out matter of factly. Some hapless marines who drew armory duty today are there to meet the Raptor with carts to collect their weapons and armor. Cate makes sure her SMG is safe and then adds it to the rack before she starts unbuckling her vest. The 'sir' has Cate looking over her shoulder to see if Kyle was talking to someone else. Then she smiles faintly. "Oh, no sirs here. Corporal Rhodes. Cate. Welcome. Arda says you're recon?"

Lyn shakes her head. "He said he doesn't have a preference," she notes to Cate. Then they're at Kyle's position and she nods to the new arrival. "Lyn Arda, recon. Welcome to the Wolves and to recon. Glad to have you aboard."

Kyle blanches to Cate, blinking and looking to her shoulders once more. Her lips trail wide in a grimace. "Frak. There goes first impressions, Corporal." Kyle smirks and nods sharply to the two women, patting the transfer papers against her chest. "Yeah, my eyesight's better in the field, I assure you. Thanks for the welcome, Cate. Thank you, too, Arda." Kyle repeats their names with a tiny tick of her head. "It's good to be on. Am I keeping you two from getting back to the armory and lockup?" Kyle motions her papers down the line. "I'm heading that way, could use a human map for the first walkabout."

Cate is a little surprise by Lyn's statement about the Chaplain. "Really. Huh." But she lets that go in favor of smiling at the new marine. "No worries. Whoever invented these stupid little rank pins ought to be smacked if you ask me. You practically need binoculars to tell a Corporal from a Sergeant at more than five paces." She motions to the carts. "They'll check the gear back in. I was going to head down to the berthings - could show you the way. You heading that way too?" she asks with a glance to Lyn.

Lyn turns over her rifle, somewhat reluctantly. Then adds a couple pistols to the cart as well as her vest and helmet. Cate's words get a nod. "We can give you the 5 cubit tour," she notes to Kyle. "Don't know if Hayes or Wagner are on board or down planet-side on a mission, but you'll meet them soon I'm sure, two of our other recon members. "

Hefting her duffel, Kyle turns and takes the first steps back to the walking line that'll lead them off of the deck. "I'm sure we'll link up soon enough, once I figure out the bunking situation and get put on rotation. You know how these things go," Kyle slips the papers back into her breast pocket. "First day of school, paperwork, orientation, schedule." Kyle smirks with a shake of her head and steps aside enough to give the others room to walk with her. "So, am I too fresh off the Raptor to ask about this Chaplain scuttle?" Kyle looks back to them. "Why bother waiting until planetside deployment to start with the recon, right?"

"Imagine you'll get thrown into it soon enough." Cate still has her personal pistol in its holster, since they're allowed to hold onto those here. And her medic pack she'll check back into sickbay later. She smirks at the question about the Chaplain. "I think Arda's got a crush on the chaplain." Eyebrows arched, silently challenging Lyn to tell her she's wrong. At least she's not gossiping behind her friend's back, right?

Lyn turns thirty shades of crimson, not realizing she'd been overheard. She coughs into her hand. She grumbles at Cate, "Stupid useless crush. Go figure." No doubt Kyle will hear plenty more scuttlebutt about Arda in time. She's a favorite of the gossipmongers.

"Oh." Kyle opens her mouth and claps it shut. Hazel eyes filter wide as dinnerplates in the start of a look towards Lyn that screeches to a halt and doesn't commit. "Religious ones always got a way with words." Kyle dips her head with flattened lips and takes an extra step to get out off of the deck first. "New subject?" A beat. "This isn't my first posting. Is there anything I should know that'll keep me from kicking my foot into my mouth? Like leave the shoe on top of the cabinet alone, it's there for a reason? You know, the little specifics that don't get talked about on intake?"

Cate smirks at Lyn's reaction. "Hey, it could be worse. Now a crush on Kovac? That would be bad." Cate scans the hangar deck briefly before falling into step with the others toward the hatch. The question from Kyle gets a thoughtful 'hmm'. "There's probably something, but I'm blanking at the moment. Sorry. Oh, but - the chaplain, he goes out on missions with us. That takes a bit of getting used to."

Lyn snorts. "That'd never happen. I'd be more likely to punch Kovac. Plus, I respect Doc Cadmus too much to do that, and wind up with ugly scars because he won't stitch me up pretty anymore." She looks to Kyle and ponders. "We're bunking and sharing the head in the same space as the pilots too. That takes some getting used to. "

"Wow," Kyle blinks. "That's something they didn't prep me for. Man of the cloth in the weeds and brass in the bunks? I guess if we get to eat off the same menu, I can live with that." Kyle steps through the hatch and stars up the stairs. "But if you don't mind me saying, someone did tell me a long time ago not to get comfy with the person who might have to dig through your pack for your field dressing." Kyle laughs under her breath. "Frak, I couldn't imagine taking a date out to work."

"Yeah, but Chaplain's a good guy. Nice to have someone to say a few extra prayers while we're out there. He assists the medics, we try to keep him from getting his head blown off. Sometimes more successfully than others." Cate grimaces at the memory. She smirks at the talk of the berthings but doesn't comment. As they head up, she asks, "So... where'd you transfer in from?"

"Chaplain took a bad shot to the head last time out, but not a single complaint out of the man. He's good people," Lyn adds to Cate's words. She sits at one of the tables and begins to take off her boots, because her feet are aching at this point.

"I guess if it helps people feel right, it doesn't hurt. Sounds like they kept the Chaplain in one piece." Oh! Kyle goes the careful route and sidesteps the ecclesiastical stance with a stylish maneuver of a safely played card. She ducks with her words into the berthings and plucks her transfer papers from her shirt, looking for her bunk assignment. With a grunt, she unslings the duffel and shoves it into a second-story bunk. "I'm one of the many added into the big military bowl from Caprica." Kyle steps back, brushing her hands clean, left now with only her papers.

"What about you?" Kyle looks from Cate to Lyn. "Caprica got a strong presence here?"

"Yeah he's out of sickbay finally and on the mend." Cate makes a sweeping motion with one hand to indicate the berthings. "Home sweet home. All the Timber Wolves are in here. Like Arda said - pilots and marines alike. Except the senior NCOs and officers - they get their own rooms." She then answers the question. "Few from Caprica, yeah. I'm from Hibernia myself."

Cate, Lyn and Kyle have just arrived. Kyle has a duffel. Cate still has her medic backpack and pistol belt, sweaty after a mission. Lyn is also post-mission, having just sat down at the center table.

Lyn eases her boots off and sighs. Boring patrols are safer, but they're also a lot more tromping around. "Aquaria," she says in reply to Kyle. That should say it all. One of the survivors. She grunts and starts working off the rest of her tactical blacks. "There better be hot water in the head, or I may cry."

Such is life, as Cate's arriving, Tucker's getting ready to leave. Dressed in his flight suit, the Raptor jock makes sure to grab a book for what he expected to be a long and boring Alert Five. He figured he had missed Cate in the passing, but hearing her voice, he makes his way over. And then notices she's not alone. "Hey." he greets as he gives the medic a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Was just about to head off."

"One big family." Kyle replies, pressing her shoulder against the ladder to her bunk. She folds her arms beneath her breasts and quiets at Lyn's mentioning of Aquaria. Two hazel eyes fall onto the woman, then the floor. "Hey." Kyle replies by reflex, looking up to see the kiss to the woman's cheek. New information, the Corporal cracks a brow and lifts a hand to Tucker in a sideways wave. "And there's some of the extended family now." New questions? Plenty.

Katja is in her rack with what should be a good book, but when the voices invade, she ends up shutting it and putting it off to the side as she swivels her feet forward. She's in her BDUs and tanks. She pushes up and tilts her head to the side to get a peek at the people who have filtered into the berthings. "Aquaria?" She arches her eyebrows slightly and wanders out further. She's a recently fresh face herself after the stop at Scorpia.

And then, there's Erin, everyone's favorite supply-snatching raccoon Marine. She shuffles on in with a handful of napkin-wrapped things, which she delivers to Charlie/Evan's bunk. "Deliver" is probably a strong word; she just dumps the sundries there for later consumption, figuring the two will figure out what the hell to do with the extra food. Herself, she has a half-eaten, peeled apple wedged in between her teeth.

"'ey dere, Rhodth." This is said towards Cate, as the woman meanders through the tight, confined spaces between the bunks. "How'th it -- " Erin's eyes catch sight of Kyle, the new woman, and she sort of loses track of where's at. Possibly. Because she steps clear into a bunk's column, which rings out with a steady ding after skull meets metal.

"Owfrakth!" Erin takes the fruit from her mouth, and gingerly presses a hand to her new injury. "Frakkin' toaster piles of frak, frakkin'." Whatever that means. "Frak." Grunt. So much for looking graceful.

Cate looks away from Kyle when Tucker approaches, a little smile touching her lips. "Hey." She's disappointed, of course, that once again they're passing like ships in the night, but such is life in war. "Flats, Raptor Pilot, Costello, new recon." She performs the brief introductions then reaches over to give Tucker's arm a little squeeze. "Be careful," she says, then murmurs something to him in another language. "<<Celtan: Wake me up when you get back?>>" When she hears Erin's skull clang, she looks over with a sympathetic wince. "You okay Hayes?"

There's a finger tip greeting to Kyle. "Nice to meet you.

Lyn clears her throat. "Costello, the one who just walked into a pole would be Hayes. Believe it or not, she's a great part of the Recon team." She stands and strips down to her tee and skivvies and hunts around in her bunk for her shower stuff.

There's a finger tip greeting to Kyle. "Nice to meet you." Tucker offers, before Cate speaks to him. There's a pause, before he adds in a quiet tone and Celtan, "<<I will, unless you're snoring.>>" is said with a small chuckle and a squeeze of the medic's hand before he's heading off on his way.

"Flats." Kyle replies with a little, informal salute off of her brow. She lifts her hazel eyes up and around to Katja, then to the incoming flurry of activity and dumped sundries all over the place. She lifts one brow high above one eye, making good on her 'playing the new, cool girl' role and holding to her cowgirl lean. She's mid-process of patting her chest above her heart with her intake papers when Erin done-gone-face-first into the bunks. Kyle's laughter is a sudden rupture in the hull, coming out loud and out of nowhere, ending with a hand over her mouth and a snort from her nostrils.

"ShitFrakSorry..." Kyle gigglesnorts and brushes at her forehead, tugging her cap off and running it over the top of her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, but damn." Kyle grins and jerks her chin towards Erin and Katja. "Greetings Hayes and...blonde girl. I'm Costello, and you." Kyle looks back to Tucker. "Be safe out there, Flats."

Hiss. "Ahh." Hiss. "Ahh." Erin presses her hand against her forehead to check for a knot, and frowns a little when she looks at it and finds no blood. With that sort of impact, blood better be there because FRAK IT HURTS. "I think I'm fine, Rhodes. Frak." Sigh. "Like, really, right? Frakkin' balls."

She sits down heavily on the edge of the nearest empty bunk. "Yeah. Hi. Hayes. I'm recon." A stink-eye and wince is given in Arda's direction. "Like, seriously, try not to die in a fire, all right? Frak." Grunt. Groan. "Costello. If you -- " Hiss. "Ahh." Beat. " -- if you need anything, like, just let me know, okay? I can find stuff." Whatever that means.

Lyn finds her shower sandals and bottles of hardcore "get Picon off you" shampoo and soap. "Right, I'm off to get the rest of the leaves out of my hair. Good meeting you, Costello. Sure we'll talk soon." She grins over at Erin. "Might want to put some ice on that, before you start to look like a unicorn." A sparkly, sparkly, unipanda maybe.

"Becoming one with your surroundings," Katja remarks to Erin with a flick of blue eyes towards the woman, but there's a flicker of concern in her eyes that doesn't really match her tone. She then turns her eyes back to the unfamiliar (beyond just seeing them around the berthings) and new faces, catching Kyle's brief look, but more of her laugh. "Better known as Deathwish, or Katja. Or Madsen. Take your pick. Pilot," she offers the apparent new girl as she leans against the nearest bunk frame, bracing her arm against it.

"Yeah, we'll talk soon, Arda. I can't dally around here so long I've got first year class stuff." Kyle holds up her papers, turning them back and around again. The collective document is properly ordered, stamped, everything. Bureaucratic passport. "Is that a test, Hayes? Because that feels like a test." Kyle turns around and drops into a chair, stretching a boot out onto another chair, letting out a breath that puffs a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Either way, thanks, I'll remember that once I get settled. If." Kyle snorts and shakes her head.

"How the frak," Kyle looks up to Katja, "Does a pilot get a name like Deathwish? Katja, Madsen, Pilot even? I get those but..." Kyle smirks upwards. "Please tell me you're not a Raptor driver."

Cate watches Tucker go for a moment before dragging her eyes back to the assembled group. Erin in particular. "Shit, did you give yourself a concussion there? Arda's right - you want an ice pack?" Presumably Cate's got something in her medic pack, which she's finally slinging off her back and planting on the floor near her bunk. She waves to the departing Lyn and smirks at the exchange between the others.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Erin waves dismissively at Cate. "I'll just -- I'll check with you if I start getting dizzy. As far as I know, I won't be barfing on the floor, so -- " Snort. " -- I'm clumsy and brickheaded, all right." Snappy and self-deprecating is the way she adopts.

"And Costello, I don't test people. I'm serious." Erin gets up to her feet, and then starts to meander her way over to where Katja is leaning/half-propped. "Every unit needs someone that gets stuff. I'm planning to spend credits to fill up my footlocker, so that others can, like, have some luxuries and comforts." Generous. "Not like I have frak to spend my money on when we're on shore leave."

Finally, at her destination, Erin produces a well-loved novel, and holds it out to Katja. "Found this." Where? She doesn't say. It looks like a book on poetry, from the cover. Some Sagittarian name is on it. "Not sure if it's any good? But I think you might like it, DW."

Katja sighs softly with a ghost of a grin at Kyle's inquiry. "Well we can all fly Raptors," she starts out as if to give Kyle a reason to worry, "but I'm a Viper pilot." As Cate starts to attend to Erin, Katja's attention is stolen away again. She tracks Erin as she approaches, finally replying to Kyle, "Oh yeah, so the callsign has to do with the way I fly and also maybe some close calls." When the book of poetry is produced, she squints to see past all the creases to read the title. A little half smile appears, just before she takes it. "Thanks. It's got to be better than reading the same old shit over and over again." The little glint in her eye belies more of her interest than anything else.

Kyle's laughter fades down to a puff of cool air, sobering as Cate preps for medic work. "Well, now I feel really bad about laughing. Maybe I just forgot what all of this was like, the ship, bunkhouse and all. I'm not heartless; on my word." Kyle reaches behind her head and undoes her ponytail. Brown strands yank and pull free. In a bendy act of self-weaving, the ponytail begins to reform.

"So, I'm the one that did four years a while back and got called back up. I haven't actually had any shore leave yet since coming back in, so I'm coming in with zero." SCROOCH. Chair skitters out and Kyle stands, reaching up into her bunk. "So I'm going to call you Deathwish, Deathwish, and just keep my head on straight and do my best to fit in until I feel like I'm part of the family."

Cate may be a medic but she's not a den mother. Erin insists she's fine, she's not bleeding all over the floor, good enough. She unbuckles her pistol belt and tucks it away into her locker, listening. "We had some R&R on Scorpia a couple weeks ago. The Colonel had a BBQ on the beach. It was a nice break."

"Eh." Erin sits her butt down on the edge of Katja's bunk. "It's fine to make fun of me. You get used to it after a while." She pulls off one boot, and then the other, apparently deciding to make herself at home where she is, as raccoons usually do. "What matters is that, when we're land-side, we mesh well. Sometimes, knocking each other around helps to keep you loose. Creates connections. Who wants to lose someone that they can make fun of to take the edge off, right?"

The other boot comes off. "So, me looking like an idiot? Best thing for me to do is play it macho." Snort. "Because, frak, I can't be known as a total klutz. It'd hurt my rep."

Katja peeks into the gifted book, a random page. Since it is well-loved, it has places where it opens more easily, a remnant of the taste of past owners. She gets lost in a few lines and then forces herself to shut it. Then she sits down next to Erin so she can lean back and tuck the book away. "Sounds good to me," she calls back to Kyle before straightening back up. "Oh yeah, that was the day I reported. Kind of felt like I was getting spoiled. That was really fun."

"Well, frak, even if I made it here a few weeks ago then, I might've been the one to draw duty since I'd have just gotten here. Whatever. It's not the first long stretch I've had between rest periods." Kyle hooks a boot onto a rung, then presses up to half-lean into her bunk. She turns over the pillow, checks the mattress, gives it all a little jab. "Ground-side I'm not uptight. I do my job, I control my shit, and I work for a living. Can't say I'm not a little sad to see I missed a barbecue, but we'll get along fine. I'm pretty middle of the ground without a lot of weird personal habits; I'm not gonna chase anyone to chapel." Stuff. The duffel is pushed against the corner and Kyle lowers herself back down the ladder.

"Well damn, Dee-Dubs." Kyle laughs and flashes her teeth and hazel eyes up Katja's way. "Color me green. Right off the boat and onto the beach?" Kyle tsks. "I'll catch the next one."

"Since when are you worried about your reputation?" Cate asks with an amused but skeptical look over her shoulder at Erin. She smiles at Katja and Kyle. "Yeah, sure beats right off the boat and into a firefight."

"What, Rhodey?" Erin makes a squelching sound in her mouth. "You know, I can be concerned with it, right? Spent a frakkin' month watching people, reading my texts, and being a shadow on the wall. Now?" She makes an exaggerated gesture with her hands. "Shackles off! I'm the science nerd! I'm the one the jocks and the pretty girls made fun of in college! Whee!"

Clearly, she's trying to be funny. Erin even snickers a little. "You know what they call me, Costello? Chilly. Not sure why, but I am from Aquaria. Guess I was a cold bitch when I went through training." Shrug. "Whatever. We can't all be, like -- I don't know -- extroverts, I guess. Gimme a textbook and a quiet place, and I'll bide me time 'til the next mission." Beat. "Unless DW here wants to get embarrassed on the Pyramid Court, and then it's on."

Katja just smiles broadly to Kyle and shrugs. "I needed the break." She looks over at Cate though and asks, "Wait, is that what happened to you?" Then...well, Erin happens. She just smirks and shakes her head. "I think you can actually be pretty extroverted if people manage to stick around." At Erin's comment about the Pyramid Court, Katja just rolls her eyes. "I want a rematch." Apparently, her record needs to be rectified.

"Oh, shit, that's what you got? Thrown right into it?" Kyle looks Cate's way and glances to her watch. The time to report on the papers is approaching the time on the hands. "I guess that's what we get paid for. I should feel lucky then that I'm getting," Kyle motions to the room at large. "These ten minutes."

"Chilly?" Kyle turns and drops into a chair next to Cate, taking one more load off before going. "Like a human ice pack for yourself when you walk into..." Kyle reaches out with a foot and tap-taps it against the bunks. "I dig it, though. I'm not going to openly say that I'm the one that was making fun of the science nerds, but I will say that if you're science nerd enough to beat her at pyramid." Kyle points up to Katja, then back to Erin, "Then frak it, gimme front seats. I'm not uptight, but I don't mind just watching and learning a little bit until we start braiding each other's hair and complaining about shitty dates." Kyle looks to Cate, playful in the accusation in her look to the medic. "You and Flats, then?"

Cate scrunches up her nose. "Rhodey? Can I bribe you not to use that one again? But okay, I see - was all part of your master plan huh?" There's a brief smirk. "I was a science nerd too, so I won't throw stones there. We should play pyramid sometime though." That said vaguely to both Erin and Katja. Kyle's question about Flats gets an almost shy sort of smile back and a shrug. "Kinda obvious I guess."

"Pff." Erin makes a face at Katja. "Rematch." Snort. "Just like that. You think you're going to get a re-match with all this?" She gestures at herself expansively. "Ah. I should make you work for it, DW. You know. Earn it."

It's really hard to believe Erin's an introvert. But, there you have it: her word, alone.

"But for a crowd?" Erin half-turns to face Katja, and kicks her lightly in the leg. "Well, that would be a change. That way you can't cheat. I mean, if you were thinking about doing that to get an edge." She grins widely, a little mockingly, but it fades away in short order. "I mean, when you want. Or you're ready. You know." And she gestures at Cate. "See? You can even have someone assisting you." Taunt, taunt, taunt. Someone needs a punch in the face.

"I don't mind a crowd," not that one person watching really equates with a crowd. Katja nods to Cate. "For sure. Next time I'm headed to the courts I'll see if you're around." She looks sidelong to Erin and stares at her with those lazily lidded eyes. She gives the Marine a look over and shrugs. "Yeah," she says cavalierly as if she perfectly expects a rematch. "You can't pull what you did last time when we made that bet...but didn't. If you want me to earn it you've got to name your terms ahead of time."

"If you need a fourth, I played in high school." Kyle looks sidelong to Cate. The rise and fall of the brunette's head is knowing, with no goading or smile in the way she gathers data on her and Flats. Recon for the database. She plants a foot on a chair and begins a light tapping of her paperwork on her knee. "It's not that obvious," Kyle murmurs to the woman at her side. "Good for the both of you, but now-"

Kyle shifts her head, ponytail flopping back in a pointed look towards Katja and Erin. She points to them with her papers, directing Cate their way. "This is seriously getting interesting. We don't need VR or movies in here at all, do we?" Kyle smirks and narrows her eyes to Erin and Katja. "Hey, Hayes?" Kyle speaks up. "I know you're the one that gets things for people, but if you two truly want a crowd, you wouldn't hold it against me if I took side-bets or anything, would you? I've got a duffel and maybe -two- civilian shirts in there." Kyle grins, darkly. "Girl might need to side-bet for clothes when that leave done comes her way, you feel me?"

"Sounds like two on two in our future then." Cate also watches the exchange between Erin and Katja with bemused interest, then stage-whispers to Kyle, "Oh, man, The Tide Always Turns has nothing on this place." Not that Cate ever watched the infamous Picon soap opera. Ahem. "I'll catch you guys later. Gonna go see if Arda left any hot water for the rest of us." She finishes stowing her gear and grabs her shower kit and some clean clothes and prepares to head out to get cleaned up.

"You don't think so?" Erin lifts an eyebrow at Katja, and sort of eyes her. Challengingly? Kind of. But there's no edge to it. No real desire to compete or embarrass. All talk, talk, talk she is.

"We'll see." Beat. "We'll see." And that's that. Bet's on, game's on, but -- no set date. Not yet.

"What's that, Costello? You need clothes?" Erin turns her attention back to Kyle. "Bad news, I'm afraid. One? You're bigger than me. Two? I don't really have non-issue, civilian clothes." Beat. "I have one scandalous two piece and a sundress, and an unidentified men's shirt that showed up on my bunk one night, which I used to polish my boots. That's it." Another beat. "But, I have books. Lots of books. Especially if you like geology."

"See ya, Rhodes." Farewell to Cate. And then, Erin looks back to Katja. Eyes her.

"Two on two sounds good, just as long as I get to be against this varmint," Katja says casually as she points her thumb at Erin. "Oh I don't care if someone wants to take sidebets. I'm not even sure you'd need to give odds. We were pretty evenly matched." She's too distracted by Erin again to quite catch Cate's comment to Kyle. "Yeah. You will," she teases back before she leans back on her bed so she can give her arms a little stretch. Katja and Erin are sitting on the edge of the pilot's bed. "I also don't have much stuff. I mostly just wear my BDUs," she admits before catching Erin eyeing her. "...what?"

"Good luck, Cate. I'm gonna check in, then orientate so, so hard." Kyle giggles and rolls her eyes, slapping the papers against her knee. "Maybe by the time I get back from chow I'll have hot water, too. I'm so, so ready for rack time." Long flight, transfer day, the adventure never ends.

"I will need clothes, eventually. Not yet, but I made sure to pack my Colonial issue one piece, which isn't good for beach leave." Kyle leans back a tad and gives Erin a once over, constrasting and comparing in such obvious ways. "Maybe. May-be, or I'll just have to, I don't know, save the cubits for leave shopping, but Geology books?!?" Kyle lifts her head sarcastically.

Kyle lowers her head, equally as sarcastic.

"By geology books you mean the ones with the muscular hot people on the covers and some kind of murder inside?" Kyle grins lowly and begins to rise from her seat. "If you've got one of those? I'm in. We can talk about that after pyramid, more or less, and you two square off and settle...whatever this vendetta is."

Two marines enter, side-by-side, caught up in quiet conversation. Charlie's got a camera in hand, plus a photo caught between her fingers. Evan's been made to carry a plate of snacks pilfered from the mess at some point. "Lemme just return this," the Piconese woman is saying as she stops by the hatch, tilting her head towards a neighboring hatch just down the corridor. "Meet you at the bunk." There's a flash of a grin for Calhoun before she darts off. Leaving him to a temporary fate. She'll be back. In a moment.

Erin responds to Katja's question with a growing smile. "Nothing." Actually, it's extended a bit. More like: "nooooothiiiiiing." As if she knew something, and was deliberately keeping it a secret. "I'm just going to rummage around and see if I can steal another sandwich." For herself.

Because she's dumped a payload of fruit and sandwiches on Charlie's and Evan's useable bunk. The one without the crap on it. HA HA HA, motherfrakkers: enjoy some smuggled food. Suckers.

Erin gets up, and puts her boots back on quickly. She leaves the laces untied. "And, no. I mean, geology books. Science, remember? Me." She sticks a thumb at herself. "Good to meet you, Costello, but I'm going to get a little something-somthing to eat. I'll catch you again soon." She dodges around a bunk, and then heads out of the berthings. Clever little raccoon.

Evan merely nods at Charlie as she moves off to dispatch with the camera. Plates balanced in hands he weaves his way through the berthings towards the bunk in the back and manages to pass through the area where the party is breaking up. Pausing he tilts his head, nose lifting upwards. "Uh-oh, I smell new blood." The comment is made with an amused smile on his lips.

Katja just continues to eye Erin back even more at her response. "You do that," she says back to Erin as if suspicious of everything now. It's a touch exaggerrated as she narrows her eyes as if trying to figure out what Erin is up to. "I'll see you later Hayes," she says after watching her put her shoes on in such a hasty retreat for more goodies. She then leans down to get to untying her boots, but looks up and over when she hears the newcomers. She's in her BDUs and tanks.

Kyle tilts her head at the opening of the hatch. She casts an ear towards the door, then hazel eyes out of the cornered sockets to spy Charlie and Evan on approach. From faces to camera, Kyle's eyes bounce, gathering it in with a smirk on her face that's her own virtual pin in Erin and Katja's conversation.

"Yeah, yeah I know, you're a lovable nerd, Hayes. Maybe I'll try one, once, but I'm not looking to get a degree." Kyle lifts a hand to the woman in a wave, two fingers swaying out. "Be good to the mess."

Kyle looks up to Katja, eyes fixating in a curious pair of slits, about to ask something, when the call of fresh blood draws a smile to her lips.

"Is it that obvious?" Kyle rolls her head back to pin her eyes Evan's way. She lifts a handful of transfer papers, ready for processing. "Or was my billing giving it away?" Kyle smirks to the man. "Corporal Kyle Costello. SST Recon. At your service, really, until-" Kyle looks to her watch. "-my check-in in fifteen."

And indeed, Charlie isn't gone long before she returns with just a couple of photos in hand. And she makes her way to that corner bunk as well, pausing to witness the pile of fruit and sandwiches that have been left on it. She looks at them, looks at the plates that Evan holds. Snort. "She does know I'm not convalescing anymore, doesn't she?" Because Wagner knows exactly who left those. Leaning into the recesses of said bunk, she finds a place to stick both photos. Sure, it's the same photo, taken seconds apart, but it means they can nab 'em as they need or want. "New blood?" She's a bit slow on the uptake, there. But the introduction rolls in and she mouths an ah-ha. "You've got great timing. Really." Touch of sarcasm in her voice. "Great theater we've got so far here."

"Ah Recon," Evan shakes his head slowly, "I try to avoid Recon as much as I can. They always come back from mission with fleas and other such things." Reaching up, he over emphasizes scratching behind his ear, making his way towards the bunk. "So many Gods damned fleas..."

Katja is about to look back down to her boots again when her gaze crosses Kyle's. When the Marine is distracted by Evan, Katja looks back down and works one of her boots off, then the other. "I'm Katja Madsen by the way. Pilot. Callsign's Deathwish," she says, lifting a hand to signal Evan where she is as she tilts her head slightly. Then she grabs her boots and pushes up to walk over to her locker, spinning it. "Oh hey Charlie," she says before dumping her boots in her locker with a mild bang as they clunk aginst the back of the locker.

"Oh, the human theatre hasn't disappointed so far." Head trailing the newcomers to the bunk, the way Kyle holds her papers over her belly does little to hide the dishwasher sound that gurgles in her belly. The quirky, quick-blonk of her stomach rumbling is audible. "You know, talk like that -whoever the frak you are and I hope you're not sporting brass- and when I come back from my next roll I might roll around in your bunk and leave all kinds of stuff. Snakes. Spiders. Goat shit. All the nice things we crawl through for a safer Colonial lifestyle." Kyle grins and gives the man a thumbs up, then thwaps the table with her transfer papers.

"Deathwish?" Kyle looks up to the woman. "I'll see you around, alright?" Kyle points to Charlie and Evan. "Charlie and you." You, the Evan, the one with name unknown. "I've got to do the first day of school thing. Don't get crumbs in the bed."

With that, Kyle turns for the hatch.

"Kat," Charlie offers towards the pilot, voice a bit muffled from where she's leaned into the bunk cleaning up the mess Erin left behind. Or at least tidying it. She's not going to let sandwiches and fruit go to waste... But she also can't just climb in on top of them. Evan's comments about fleas earn a scoff, but she knows better than to engage in arguing. Yet. There will be payback of some stripe or another later. When the threat for leaving things in the bunk comes, however, she does lean back out and points towards the new recon with a sandwich in hand. "Don't you frakkin' dare! I sleep in here, too." Hey, she was bound to find out eventually as it was. Probably within the first night or two.

The woman that moves to depart; Kyle in this case, gets a glance from Evan and he tilts his head towards her while speaking to Charlie. "That one? I like her." There's a genuine tone of amusement in his voice. He then moves to duck into the bunk.

"Seeya," Katja calls to Kyle with a smirk for the woman's threat and tactics, shuts her locker, and turns to see the mess in Charlie's bunk. "Why does she get you all of that shit?" she asks point blank, but doesn't wait around for the answer. She strolls back to her own bunk and flops down bonelessly.

Most of her and Evan's things are over on her bunk. But it is food, so there's not so much for just... throwing it in. "Started out with her wanting to... help out when I was all gimpy and couldn't get around much while I was still recovering. But now?" Charlie shrugs as she stacks sandwiches. "The thrill of the hunt, maybe? That's all I can figure. Like she started and now she can't stop. Uh- if you get hungry, feel free?" She gestures to the locker as she shuts it before kicking off her boots to clamber bunkwards herself. Because it's way too many sandwiches. Sammichgeddon.

"It's probably just an opportunity for mischief now," Katja surmises as she leans back and kicks her legs up, lifting her hands behind her head. "Maybe she's just needs to smuggle a certain amount a day now that she's used to it...Oh no thanks. I already ate..." She looks over as if in consideration. "Well maybe later. Maybe it's just a form of recon training. Maybe she's not actually any good at stealing, just really gifted at not being seen," she muses.

"Mischief sounds about right," Charlie decides, finally deciding not to leave her boots out. Corner bunk it may be, but there is someone occupying the upper bunk now. No need to risk them tripping over it. She opens the locker, tosses them inside. "I feel like I ought to start... perpetuating it. Like, divide it into thirds and start spreading it around to other bunks. I just dunno whose."

Katja chuckles softly in agreement with Charlie's conclusion. "Yeah. It does." She yawns a bit, not bothering to cover her mouth. It's just too much effort to free a hand for the sake of politeness. "Just dole them out so everyone will think the sandwiches are propagating like little fish." The pilot shifts and starts to pull off her tanks. She's got a sports bra on underneath. Then she works on getting off her BDUs. "Think I'm going to turn in early," she informs Charlie as she squirms to get under the covers on her side. "You know what?" she says, lifting her head from the pillow. "You should just leave them on everyone's pillow, like a mint." Then a fair arm reaches out to pull the privacy curtain to a full close. "Night," comes from within, somewhat muffled by the curtain.

"Colonial Fleet. We don't leave mints on your pillow, we leave sandwiches, to make you big and strong." Charlie snorts, shaking her head. "Ain't a bad idea." She looks back to the bunk, expression turning a big fond, briefly. "Night," she calls in return, before climbing in herself.


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