Though unable to fly, Astraea decides to bring treats by the Alert Lounge for her fellow pilots. She and Verity have a brief chat before the Viper pilot, too, must return to the fray.
Location: Alert Lounge
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 445
Off and On.. Off and On. The major constraints of war during major offensives was horrendously taxing. It required commitment that few had.. and that probably also included Verity. The woman made her way in, her hand coming up to tie her hair back into the require knott to keep it out of teh way of the equipment she wore. She was also in her flightsuit ofcourse as she moved towards the fridge - grabbing the nearest drink she slowly straights up. Her eyes going along with those who are here. A shake of her head and sigh as she opens up the caffeinated can and leans against the fridge. She had seen a pilot go down not to long ago.. It was not something she was wanting to see again.
Unfortunately, Astraea has not been cleared for duty. A concussion is one of those things that takes you out of the game for a couple of days even if it's not something 'major' in the way of blood loss and gore. There's too much risk to be had and a need for observation. But her brothers and sisters in arms are all going out there in steady shifts for the assault on Delphi and the Cylons embedded there and she's uncomfortable haunting the halls of their barracks when they're either out there or sitting and waiting for their next turn in the skies. Thus, she appears in her off-duties in the lounge with treats in tow. Holding a basket with foil-wrapped items inside, the Scorpian moves carefully. The world is, at times, still a bit wobbly. "Guess I missed most folks?" This is directed towards Verity as she casts a look around. "Didn't catch th' schedule."
The redhead was in her own thoughts for the moment. The words finally pulling her out as she looks up surprised. It is a few more moments before she finally recognizes what the question was. She nods her head, "Yea.. Schedule 3 push is going on right now. We expect to have a counter push with in the next fifteen to thirty minutes.." She looks at the bags of treats and then at the off duty uniform, "So..They give gift baskets as apart of the package here on the Dauntless?" Her tone is somewhat light, perhaps trying to belie a joke there. She offers a faint smile, "Flameout.. I'm apart of the Alert Fighters for Schedule Three.." She would bring her hand out but the woman appears to be already pretty busy. The accent of a Sagittarius can distinctively be heard. She looks at the treats curiously and then shakes her head, "Those look delicious..but I am already taking my chances with this drink if something happens."
A brief pause, "I'm Flameout.." She motions with her hand, "Atleast in this abode.. You are?"
"Nah. I jes' like ta bake. An' since I'm on medical..." In her off-duties, the signs of her crash before yesterday are visible, too. The surgical scars on her right arm. The burn marks and other shrapnel-wounds. Astraea carts the basket to a table to set down in a prominent spot. "Well, if ya changer yer mind, they're cookies. Mebbe ya could take one wit' ya in case ya get peckish in th' cockpit later." She sets herself down on a sofa, looking back at the redhead when the introduction is made. Her movements are slow; careful lest she make herself dizzy. "Nova," she offers in turn.
"Ahh..You're Nova.." A slight tinge or red comes to the cheeks of the woman as she realizes who is infront of her. She slowly shakes her head, "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize your voice. I was there.. at the battle. I wish I had been able to do more." Her tone is almost apologetic. She glances at the cookies and then smiles faintly, "And how would I eat it? Take my helmet off? I'm pretty sure I'd get in trouble." The smile indicates a bit of teasing as she moves towards Nova. She motions, "Can I get you something? For the brief time that I am still here.. You really should be resting."
"Ya were in th' other zone if I remember," Astraea points out with a small shrug. "An' it was a hard battle anyway. Can't all be everywhere at once, y'know? Coupla Raiders got off lucky shots is all. Banshee took it worse. I'm still here an' kickin' an' docs say I'll be back out inna day or two." Nova offers up a small smile before she scoffs a bit. "Mebbe. Ask Cherry. I think she keeps snacks on her, so I bet she's got some sorta foolproof method." When the other pilot offers o get her something, she waves her off. "Nah, this is restin'. I ain't 'llowed ta be out there with y'all. Least I can do is keep folks company in here, yeah?"
"That depends.. If you're served better and healing in your bunk...." Verity lets it go though - not pushing it further as there would be little point. She glances at the snacks and exhales softly, ".. Is Banshee alright? She'll pull through?" She offers concerned and then back to looking at the other woman. Her hands come behind her as they talk. She appears to be trying to treat this gingerly - not having the connections the rest of the crew do. Her eyes do look to the scars, a tinge of a frown forming.
Best to leave it be in a pilot's case; they're almost as bad as marines. Some of them worst. Astraea leans back on the sofa, tilting her head back as she closes her eyes. "Last I heard, she's alive, but... dunno much beyond that. They're takin' care of her back at Cohen. Their facilities are better." Which means the other pilot's too bad off to be sent back to the Wolves anytime soon. "Better there than a hospital ship, I'd say," she adds after a moment. "Mebbe we can win Caprica back so she can have a nice place ta recover, yeh?"
"..Mmm.. I hope it's not anything permanent." She then smirks at the offer of Caprica, "..Maybe? There's no Maybe To i..." Her words are interrupted as the klaxons fire and a soft sigh. It was expected.. but never welcomed. She dips her head, "If you'll excuse me.. I'm pretty sure that's the Counter Push." She reaches for her helmet, her eyes going to the treats. She reaches over and grabs one of the snacks and winks, "Incase I get hungry.." With that - the woman bows again and is gone.
At the sound of the klaxons, Astraea's eyes open. It takes a few long seconds for them to focus -- a true sign she's not ready to fly -- and she pushes herself upright to watch Verity prepare to head to the flightline. There's a smile for the redhead as one of the cookies is grabbed. "Or fer a treat after a successful dogfight," she calls after. She lifts a hand to wave the Ensign out. "Good luck out there, Flameout!" All the confidence for the departing Viper stick; it's the best Nova has to offer.