2237-09-05 - Another New Sawbones

Recently transferred to the Wolves, Sarita is terribly lost. Geoff helps set her right in where she needs to go.

Date: 2237-09-05

Location: Argyros Naval Base Grounds

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 480

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With a duffel bag over one shoulder and a steel-backed case held in her other hand, Sarita Hargrave looks very much the part of 'brand new arrival.' There's no hiding it, really. It's also clear she's not part of the Caprican contingent because she's not wearing their colors. No, the woman is in Colonial attire. A well-ironed naval blue uniform, with her hair knotted into a bun at the nape of her neck. She'd look rather commanding of presence if she didn't look so damned lost. She's keeping out of the main throughways between buildings, but finally just comes to a stop and sets her bag down by one of the corners of the buildings. Reaching into the breast pocket of her duty jacket, she pulls out a sheet of paper, unfolding it carefully to look it over. Letting out a sigh, she looks up at the many similar buildings, frowning as various squadrons go by about their training and duties.

For whatever reason, Geoff happens to be tucked behind that building corner, smoking a cigarette. Maybe he's trying to avoid someone, or maybe he's supposed to be doing some training that hasn't officially ended yet. Whatever the case, when Sarita's in view looking so lost, he lifts his chin. "Lost?"

When spoken to, Sarita looks over to Geoff and offers him a somewhat sheepish smile. The expression -- the smile -- comes easily to her at least. "Yes," she admits. "I seem to have been transferred to a unit upon a ship, though they are not currently aboard said ship, so it's a bit... tricky. I can't seem to figure out where I'm meant to go just now." Her accent is that strange blend of the upper echelons of Canceron. The part of the planet still heavily influenced by Virgon and thus affecting some of their mannerisms, though certainly not all. "Nor can I find anyone, until now, able to stand still long enough to ask."

"Uh-huh," Geoff grunts as he exhales smoke. "You s'posed to be with us? The Wolves? What are you looking for?" He doesn't sound like upper-echelon anything.

"Timber Wolves," Sarita supplies, leaning down to grab at the strap on her bag. She hasn't let go of the case. "On the Dauntless?" The woman sounds hopeful. "That would be exactly it, yes. I haven't been able to make heads or tails of where I'm meant to go. Why are you on a base, rather than the ship?"

"Training," Geoff says. "Don't complain too much, we get nights off." He drags on his cigarette and exhales through his nose. "So you don't know where you're s'posed to report? What do you do?"

"I don't," Sarita says, looking back to the papers before carefully folding them and returning them to her jacket pocket. She shifts the canvas bag to her shoulder. "My transfer papers were provided prior to your... layover here. All of my directions are for shipboard locations." She gives a mild shrug, looking up to the buildings once more. "I should be reporting to whoever is in charge of medical. I'm your new surgeon."

"Figure we can use you," Geoff says, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. "I'll take you to medical, then. And if anybody asks you can say I knocked off of duty early to show you around. Can't have a surgeon getting lost, anyway." He nods his head in the vague direction of the medical building. "C'mon."

There's something of a bemused smile when Geoff prepares his advanced excuse for being away from his duties. Sarita looks to the strap of the bag over her shoulder and starts to leverage it out... as if she were going to hand it off to the marine. In the end, she decides against that cruelty. No, instead, she just opts to follow instead. "I imagine most will allow for a Captain commandeering a marine to show her around," she decides, shifting her grip on her case. "I've read over a few of your recent mission reports." At least those which she could get her hands on; some of the Picon ones were scrubbed, after all. "Your unit has been through some difficult times."

Geoff puts his hand out. "I don't mind carrying the bag, you're prob'ly tired from the trip," he offers. Then he bobs his head once. "For a surgeon, I don't think they'll squawk." He starts to lead the way. "Mission reports, huh," he says, maybe a little wary. "Well. It's a war, ya know?"

There's a definite look of relief when he offers and Sarita does provide the bag. It's not overtly heavy. No different from anyone else's bag when moving aboard. Clothing and the basics. Heavy, yes, but nothing especially terrible for a marine. It's that steel case that's extra and that she seems keen on keeping close. A doctor thing, surely. "I like to have an idea of what I'm being sent into," she explains, glancing sidelong at the man. "And the people I'll be working with. It's a war, yes, but this unit is... different than the others I've been with. I've been with hospital ships and embedded units. Nothing like the Wolves."

Geoff shoulders the bag, no problem ,and lets the doctor keep the other case. "So what kinda ideas are you getting about people, then?" he asks without turning back to look at her.

"That you're a group who runs headlong into dangerous situations. Sometimes even when you shouldn't." Sarita smiles, faintly, at that. "But you get back up and go to it again. Many would have taken their medical discharge and been done with it, from some of the After Action Reports I've seen."

"Damn right we do," Geoff says. "What's the point of taking medical discharge if they blow up the whole frakkin' human race? Plus active duty money's better."

There's a faint laugh from Sarita. "And what good's that money when here's nothing to spend it on?" Amusement reigns in her mien as she continues. "But you're right. If we can continue to fight and put in effort, we should do so. There's no point to any of this if they destroy it and us. We can have cocktails once the work is done."

"Got a PX here on the base," Geoff says. "And nights off so we can go into the city. Money spends just fine." He glances back over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm down for cocktails whenever."

"Sounds almost relaxing," Sarita muses, smiling faintly. "And I'm sure I'll settle in just in time for it to all end." The woman shakes her head, shifting her case from one hand to the other. "As for cocktails, well, the war almost demands them, doesn't it? I like to partake from time to time, myself, but the job demands I be mindful. Never know when someone will need to be stitched up."

"Not as good as leave," Geoff replies, shifting his grip on the bag. "Get enough docs around here and y'all can take it in turns to get plastered."

"Now there's a duty rotation I can get behind. I may have o propose that to my new coworkers, once I meet them. A board for who gets to be plastered on any given weekend." Sarita chuckles faintly, looking down between a few buildings as they pass. "I'm afraid I forgot to ask for your name," she finally ventures, sounding faintly abashed. "And I apologize for that. Mine is Sarita Hargrave."

"Geoff Courtois," the marine replies, looking at the surgeon over his shoulder. "Here, we're getting close, it's that building up there," he says, pointing. "Nice to meet you," he adds belatedly.

There's a slight squint from Sarita. The name is familiar and she lifts her free hand to tap at her lower lip. "Courtois- that's, hmmm." It takes her a moment and she almost misses the building he points at. "Oh! You actually spent some time in recovery. Oh, my, quite a bit." She flushes, some. "Sorry, my apologies. You likely don't want to have to remember that, do you. So you know quite well those options of medical discharge, don't you."

Geoff doesn't say anything at the first assertion, but then he lifts an eyebrow and looks back at Sarita. "You think I forgot?" he asks rhetorically. "I'm here," he says, "Capping toasters and pulling my paycheck 'til I can't do it anymore."

"No." Sarita flushes again. "I'm sorry. This is why I'm not one of the, ah, talky doctors." She looks properly abashed. "I patch you up. I don't know how to talk you down from the ledge. I'm utter rubbish at that, to be honest." She tries on a slight smile, but it doesn't really work. "Good to see you in one piece, though. And back. That shows fortitude. We need that in our soldiers."

"Yeah, I got fortitude out the ass," Geoff agrees, stopping near the building. "Another doc came in yesterday, name like yours. Maybe they ordered a discount twin pack. Not that she looks like you. Anyway, I'm gonna get going. Hitting the town tonight, don't want to waste time. Good luck settling in and all." He nods once.


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