2237-08-01 - What Wasn't Left Behind

A few pilots begin moving onto the //Dauntless//.

Date: 2237-08-01

Location: Berthings

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 368

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Isolde has finally secured her boxes, and has lugged them onboard to begin the ritual of unpacking. With most everyone still enjoying their last few hours of shoreleave, the ship is wonderfully quiet, and so she is met with almost no small talk as she steps into the bunkhouse with her stacked boxes and slung duffel. She eyes the various bunks, looking around in a slow circle before she dumps the boxes on the bench with a thunk and starts to unshoulder her bag.

Perhaps surprisingly, Astraea is not one of those out enjoying her remaining moments of freedom in Argentum Bay. Instead, she's hauling things aboard the Dauntless to claim a bunk. Thus, it's into the first bunkroom she spots and oh! "Pi!" The Raptor pilot looks a bit relieved to see a familiar face also settling into the particular room she's chosen. She's got just her duffel and a single box; the latter of which sounds like it may not even be full. With one of the bunks by the door looking unclaimed, she promptly drops her bag there with a grunt. "Looks like you had th' same idea I did."

Pi turns around to Nova, and she starts to laugh brightly. "Hi, Nov." She stretches out her lower back, grimacing slightly. "Yeah." She smirks. "Think we will manage not to move every time we go back to Scorpia?" Then she shakes her head and plops down on the bench and starts to take out some of her stuff from the box, sorting it into the clothes and the not-clothes. "You ready to hit the road... whenever we're going?"

"Well... I mean, this is a first for me," Astraea points out. "Th' Vanguard was when I first joined up with y'all. So- uh, let's not get this ship destroyed, yeh?" There's a mildly amused look, but it flickers and fades away pretty fast. She lifts the mattress of her bunk first to start sorting away the lesser-used items underneath. Like her dress blues. She lingers, for a moment, over her medals. Like the DAMs she received. "Ready as I'll ever be. Things got... sorta..." She takes a deep breath, "sorta weird after th' ball for me, so I think I'm ready to just get back to work."

Isolde laughs, and then she nods soberly. "No getting the ship destroyed." She lets herself settle into the momentary silence as she continues to sort her clothes and other belongings. The mention of the weirdness after the ball draws her eyes and brows up in earnest interest. "Yeah?" She tilts her head slightly, brows then furrowing. "What happened, then?" The invitation to share is accompanied by that rapt focus that Isolde gives all her friends.

The civvies that Astraea got on the trip also go under the mattress into 'deep storage,' as it were, along with her tattooing kit. When Isolde asks what happened, she takes a moment before closing it up and sitting down on her new bunk. The box is dragged up so she can start setting things on the shelves inside. There's a sort of sheepish look for the ECO. "I, uh, might've..." Like she's waiting for Pi to get upset with her; she even toes at the deck plating with her boot a bit. "tried kissin' Razor after th' ball. Didn't go well though."

Isolde's eyes widen at this confession, and she blinks several times. "Whoa." The ECO taps the stack of paperbacks against her palm. "Did he... freak out, or just politely shut you down?" By her tone, she totally suspects the latter over the former. She glances at the hallway just outside the bunkroom and then back to Astraea. "Do... do you like him, or is this just an afterparty sorta thing?"

Socks comes by Bunkroom A looking red as a lobster. He's carrying a small jar of burn treatment cream, and glances up to the other two in the room, "Ay, howareyanow? See I'm not the only one who got enough sun, eh?" Chipper as he makes his way towards his locker, he deposits the tub of aloe vera on the shelf. He glances back as Pi and Nova seem to be talking serious to each other. "Somethin going on?"

Well! At least Astraea didn't get anything thrown at her head in a 'how dare you jeopardize friendships!' sort of way. The pilot just sort of squirms, wriggling her shoulders a bit as she pulls her box of things closer. "He was polite," she says, taking a deep breath. "Stuff about how... he likes just havin' me on his wing and doesn't wanna change things." She frowns into the depths of said box before reaching in to take out a book. There's a look up at the ECO and she shrugs. "I like him, but I'm tryin' not to. He doesn't want me to." And there's Salvae, looking... yes, very red. She winces in sympathy. "Forgot to buy sunscreen?"

Isolde looks up as Socks enters, and she blinks at the sight of the Aerilon lobster. She winces sympathetically when Nova mentions sunscreen, and she offers him a modest smile. "I bet the infirmary has some cooling gel or something if it hurts." Then she slides her gaze toward Nova at the question, and she clears her throat a bit. "Uh, well... you know. Just discussing Air Wing drama." She offers Nova a small smile. "That's rough, Nov... um. Want I shall beat him over the head with something?"

Salvae grins and nods towards the tub of goo on his locker's shelf. "Ya, got a bottle of sun oil, thinking it was sunblock." He snickers, "Guess it's what the local beefcakes use to get those muscletans for the posedowns. Spent an afternoon on a boogieboard roasting like an autumn turkey." He shrugs his shoulders, "doc gave me a jar of spread, seems to be doing the trick."

"Only if it gets him to come around to the idea that there's more to everythin' than war?" Astraea leans over until she's -- gently -- bashing her forehead against the side of the box. "Ugh. I feel like such an idiot. I mean, frak me, it's Razor. I shoulda known. I just thought, y'know, we were all celebratin' an' I was drunk an' so was he so mebbe we'd..." She takes a deep breath, setting the box down beside her as she looks over to Salvae. "Just get ready to peel like crazy. Like, all over everything."

"Razor is like a hyper-Van." Which is a good thing and a bad based on Isolde's tone. "He's going to take regulation super seriously until he's given a good reason to break it. I guess that romance isn't a good enough reason." She shrugs a shoulder. "I think Kell gettin' drunk was as close as we're going to see him loosening up." She then glances over toward Salvae and nods sharply. "You look quite lovely in red though, Socks."

"Aw, Kell's cuddly enough, he spent the night babysitting me when I lost my wallet on the beach," Socks says, giving Nova a wink. "He'll come around. He still feels new here, despite being a trip."

"Or, more likely, someone properly interestin'." Astraea lifts a hand to rub at her face. She groans in a bit of frustration. "And now we won't see him relax again until we go on leave again. It's not good for him. You get wound up too tight, from combat to combat... I've seen what it can do to people." She grabs a few things from her box in frustration, shoving them onto shelves into her bunk a bit more harshly than necessary. She glances over to Salvae when he speaks up and her shoulders drop. "Well, that's.. that's it, he's nice to everyone an' I'm th' dummy who misunderstood that, y'know?"

"You're interesting," Pi says gently to Nova, offering her a small smile as she does. "But... Kell is... Kell." She hesitates, looking over toward Socks briefly before her dark eyes settle back on the Raptor pilot. "Let me see what I can find out, okay?" Then she glances back over toward Socks, and she throws a balled up pair of underwear at him. Ugly regulation underwear. "He's not new here," she says with a smirk.

Socks catches the guanch and gives it a sniff, his face sours a bit and he throws them back, "Ay! None a that!" He unbuttons his jacket and slowly peels it down his arms before hanging it in his locker. "Might also consider with how tight everyone's crammed in, he might be like me and get the feeling we're all kin, ya know? It'd be like... Frakkin a sister, ya know?"

"Kell is Kell and he's a great pilot an' he's sweet an' he's always been there for me an'-" There's Socks with the 'frakkin' a sister' comment and all Astraea can do is groan in dismay and flop over to bury her face in a pillow.

Isolde offers Astraea a sympathetic smile before she scowls at Socks in silent scolding. Then she reaches over to give Nova's leg a squeeze in comfort. Then she slumps back on the bench and continues to work through her box, starting to move stuff to her upper bunk above Van's. "Any bets on where we are going?" Subject change!

"But there's hope, maybe that's how Librans roll?" Socks couldn't help it after seeing Nova plunk down on the pillow. He unscrews the cap of the jar of goo and sits down on the edge of the empty bunk beneath his to begin spreading it over his arms. "Not sure. Scuttlebut in port was all over the place. I think we have some unfinished business over Picon, though. I wouldn't mind heading back that way."

It's rough when you'd only just realized how you feel about someone to then get shot down so handily. Just kaboom; like a rocket to the tail of your bird. Sends you into a spin. Astraea rolls over and looks up to the partially-complete shrine to Apollo in her bunk with a long sigh. "He's Libran so he prob'ly goes for someone smart. Mebbe rich, or a military family full of awards an' all." She sits up finally and grabs the last few things from her box, scattering them on her bunk to put in place. "Most folks're thinkin' back to Picon, yeh."

Isolde looks between Astraea and Salvae, and then she huffs out a breath and nods. Her fingers start to work at her hand, feeling her muscles ache around her missing finger. "That would... make Van happy. Or as happy as he could be. Satisfied, I guess." Then she throws a bit more onto her bunk. "I don't know about going back though..."

Wincing as the cooling goo hits a sensitive spot, Salvae nods. "Probably there or Leonis, I think. The big hats like factories." He begins working in the goo, then wipes his hand off on his pants. "But if we're really lucky, they'll have a line on a toaster staging area and we can hitem on their turf for once."

"Picon's sort of a... well, it's no good for us. Picon's a long-term theater, yeh? Like, dig in for th' long haul. Unless they send us there to destroy factories, it's no good for us." Astraea just stares at the 'ceiling' of her chosen bunk. "We're meant for... well, not that sort of work. Not th' kinda unit we are. I bet we go somewhere else."

Socks bends down to pull off his boots and tosses them into his locker, enjoying the relative luxury they're enjoying now that they're on a bigger ship. He gets up and grabs his ear plugs from the shelf and closes it up before climbing the ladder to his bunk. "Well, wherever we're going, I hope it's somewhere that makes a difference. Ditching out on Picon like that leaves a sour taste.."

That's when Isolde grimaces again, glancing sidelong to Astraea. "I hate that word. Theater. It's such a terrible word for it." Then she hauls herself up the ladder with her pile of junk and starts to organize it into the shelf above the head of her bed. She glances down toward Astraea and then over to Socks, and she nods soberly. "Yeah... definitely a sour taste." She sets her idol of Athena on the shelf beside her stack of paperbacks.

"We didn't ditch Picon," Astraea points out with a touch of vehemence in her tone. "Didja happen to see th' Vanguard? We fought our asses off when that Basestar showed up. She was nearly destroyed in that battle. We didn't ditch nothin'." Kicking her box aside, she finally pulls herself to her feet to start on her locker; uniforms and the like. "I guess," she says after a moment, "on th' upside? We have more room."

"Good to always find that upside," Isolde agrees quietly. Then she smiles over toward Astraea. "I hope that we go back to Picon... but I also hope it means it's because the brass knows how we can maybe pull off a win... or some kind of victory." She breathes out a sigh. "Anything." Then she sets up her pictures, smiling a bit at her family.


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