Yelena moves her things in to the Timber Wolves berthings. Nicole becomes her cubit tour guide.
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1558
The ship is still on its skeleton crew. Many are off on 48-hour passes or down on Scorpia proper; enjoying the freedom. Others might still be on a sparse duty shift or going to- or from the ship proper. It does allow Yelena a sort of peace as she navigates the corridors after being disgorged from a Raptor, transfer orders in hand. Sickbay was easy enough to find and report in, but now it's a matter of finding the berthings. She's ducked into a few intended for other units, but hasn't found the one meant for the Wolves.
The one meant to be her new home.
The Tauran woman has finally received proper guidance in the right direction and steps into the hub area of the Wolves' berthings. She's got a backpack over one shoulder and a duffel clutched in the opposite hand. For all that she's slim of build, she seems to be managing the combined weight airly well. She doesn't even set them down as she hovers, staring at the numerous arches aiming into the individual rooms.
Nicole is actually walking up behind the other woman, and as there's the pause she clears her throat. In her own arms is a box that's been wrapped in brown paper. Her boots might've announced her presence first, it's hard to say, either way she looks to be mildly struggling with it. Not because of weight though, because it's a little awkward in this section of the ship. "Hey, newbie or lookin' for someone?" She says in addition to announce her presence. She hasn't yet noticed the rank on the woman.
The officer blues that Yelena are wearing have a bit of wear to them. They're not perfect in the 'just taken out of the package' sense and they appear rumpled in places at that. So she's neither new to the Fleet nor one of those who obsesses over the perfect crease. The blonde turns at the throat clearing, blinking rapidly. "Apologies," she says, accent notably Tauran. Tisza, at that, for region. She steps aside to clear the way. "Just transferred," she explains, nodding to the papers in hand. There's a beat, then, as she gets a closer look at Nicole, brow furrowed in thought. Just like someone trying to place a face.
"S'okay." Nicole says, her accent not Tauran (at least not at the moment), and she looks back at the Doctor. Her eyes flit to the rank, then the face, "So I gathered ma'am. I'm guessing you're not a pilot." She sees the little furrow of though. Accent, check. Paying attention to her, check. Frak. She narrows her eyes in return. "Whatcha starin' at? Trying to figure out if there's a way for you to order me into a swimsuit or somethin'? Try C-bunk for that, I hear there's a couple models in there." Apply misdirection!
The suspicion in Yelena's mien deepens, her hands tightening at he straps of her bags. It's not an outward anger, but a defensive sort of gesture. As if she might bolt with little warning. "Not a pilot," she affirms finally, voice low. "I..." she shakes her head, unable to find the words. "Never mind. Do you know where they put medical personnel?" She's apparently unfamiliar with the mixed, free-for-all nature of Wolves berthing habits.
A little sigh, tinged with relief as Nicole looks about, gesturing with her shoulders at the different exits for the bunks. "We're... more close knit, really. The Wolves are different than what I was used to as well - a free-for-all really." She shifts her shoulders, the box catching on the shirt, showing off the edge of her of a tattoo on her shoulder that has a Tauran look to it. "Most of the bunks have a few people in them though, and I think most everyone grants a bunk near someone they like."
In uniform, Yelena has two obvious tattoos. There is the single mark on the side of her neck showing a year (maybe more, but less than two) in military service. Then, on the back of the hand holding the duffel bag, is the Ha'la'tha sun... and the number of rays on it are indicative of someone who has been in service to and been honored for a fair time. She looks back to the halls, pursing her lips. "I don't know anyone, so I'm not..." She looks hesitant. "On the Kratos, all medical staff were in one place."
The enlisted woman stares at the one on the back of her hand for a moment, eyes running around the sun as if quickly counting before looking back to her eyes. They stare at her, as if trying to peer into the other woman for a moment. A purse of Nicole's lips and she gesture with her head toward B and then D, "There's some in each of those two and they're not filled. If that's all you care about is medical staff, there you go - but the Dauntless has their own way to promote cohesiveness of the unit." She shifts again, trying to get a better hold of the box in her arms.
There's nothing in those rays indicative of someone high in the organization. They're mostly of someone who has been with the Ha'la'tha for some time and is respected by them. It might not be too much of a leap for someone medical... But it begs the question... why is Yelena here? Why is she in the fleet? She stares at the named bunk halls, but finally shakes her head slightly to look back to Nicole. "It's not all I care about," she hedges carefully. "It's just all I know. And... a marine or pilot has an in with one another. I am... mmm, lacking in that. People don't like the medicos."
"I suppose so." Nicole says with a glance to the bunks again, "I don't really think of it that way -- and I doubt that the pilots really seem to think of us grunts." She finally gestures with her head toward C and adds, "C'mon." She starts off in the direction for C bunk (CHARISMA BUNK!), half turning to look at the newbie. "I'm getting tired of carrying this damn box, but I'll give you the cubit tour." She turns back to the direction she's moving and sort of half-turns and shoulders her way into C.
"Sounds... complicated. They said it was a specialty unit, but..." Yelena's used to being general purpose. One doc, of many, for an entire ship. Not working with a specific unit. She does set to follow Nicole, casting looks around as they go. "Any advice? For someone new? People to avoid, what food is death in the mess- things like that?"
A sigh and Nicole walks into the bunk room and starts counting off the beds before moving toward one of them, a double check of the number as she gets closer to it. She glances back to Yelena, "Oh, Hmm..." She pauses to think about that as she places the box on the bunk, then steps back away from it and moves in the direction of the doctor. "Well, people to avoid - some of the pilots are down-right zany. Most of the Marines have a good head on their shoulders and like to drink. Aleks always has smokes, Tomak usually steals them. Wagner's a hell of a shot. Oh Akeso - she's one of the medics - is fun but acts uptight. And I'd stay away from the meatloaf, I still haven't gotten a clear answer of what meat is in it." A nod of her head and she seems to ponder for a moment, "Any of the food really... Ugh. I'm so grabbing dinner at a five star."
There's a look to the box with a measure of curiousity, but Yelena restrains from asking. She just glances over the bunks and their personalized states. Level of messiness. Photos. She shifts her grasp on the duffel in hand. "Uh-huh." There's a sort of cross-eyed state at the rapid fire names. It's clear she won't easily remember them. "Steer clear of the meatloaf... I think that one's universal. It was a quick trip to a night in the Head on the Kratos too." She looks around the full bunkroom. "Which halls aren't... full and might be ken to a doc among them?"
Nicole looks back out of the bunk, gesturing that way. This was not her bunk after all - she just had a package to deliver to Aleksander's bunk - "Well, like I said, B and D are probably your best. Both have medical personnel already and I think any of the ones with marines would love docs." She gives a lopsided shrug with the right side going up further than the left, "We get shot up enough, it's always a given. You guys probably get the most valentines." She turns, walking backward and make a little heartshape with her hands. "Blood is red, Cyanosis is blue..."
"B or D? Any reason one might be better than the other?" Yelena, it'd seem, has no feelings either way! And perhaps is more used to being assigned a bunk than this 'free for all' nature. It's enough to make someone wishy-washy about pulling the trigger. She does, finally, bark a laugh. "In the Foreign Legion, people couldn't stand dealing with us doctors. They were cranky frakkers." She follows Nicole on out, shifting the bag on her shoulder. "So if that's not the case here, I am all in."
"Foreign Legion?" Nicole says with another glance back toward Yelena as she walks into the crossroads again. "I know a few of our people were in the Foreign Legion. Not sure which though... lemme think." She reaches up and starts tapping her chin. She turns back to look at Yelena more fully, one arm about her middle as the other still taps. "Hmm. I should really try to keep a list of that." It's a bit of a self-musing statement for a moment, but the gaze focuses in again on Yelena. "Well, either way, you should be in fine company no matter where you bunk."
"There's other Legionnaires here?" Yelena looks pleased to hear that. There's a marginal brightening of the woman's countenance overall. "I'll have to ask around to find out who." Since Nicole isn't sure of names. She does look at the two mentioned bunk rooms, pursing her lips. There's finally a nod and, after a glance in each, she begins angling for B. "It looks cleaner," she notes as an aside to the marine. It may really just be random choice, but she'll make up some sort of reason for her choice if she must.
"Yes, there are other Legionnaires." Nicole says, both her arms crossing over her front. She turns to a side and whumps lightly back against the wall. She's a great structural integrity device, helping hold up this wall like a champ! She shrugs her shoulders as she glances toward the way out, "I think someone in C is, but honestly that's one of the few things I tend not ot keep track of. She lets out a bit of a snort, "You know, you can take your time, just grab one and make your actual choice later."
"Bunk hop?" Yelena smirks, but briefly. "Is that not frowned upon?" There, just inside the door of B, is a free bunk. Either that or whoever lives there owns nothing at all. Reznik assumes the former as she drops duffel and backpack alike on the bed itself. She lets out a huffed breath, rolling her shoulders. "You said something about a 5-star... I've never been on Scorpia. What's the best place for food and a beer?"
The other woman gives a shrug and turns to look around over at the other as she claims a bunk. "Sounds like a good place to start at least." She gives a raise of her eyebrows and jerks her head back the way that they came. "No idea. I've never been here either, well, not really. I plan on finding one when I get down there. Still got one dinner left. You want in? I can spring for your meal."
There's a raise of Yelena's brows at the offer, surprise writ across her features. "You don't mind bringing the new girl along?" She looks back to her bags, considering. "Lemme change? I feel like I shouldn't be on a new planet in duty uniform. Not if I'm not on official business, y'know?"
She gets a shrug, "Fine, but if you want me to change into a dress, you're buying the drinks and I'll need to know now." And with that Nicole starts wandering off in the direction of her bunk. She should probably change either way from her duty greens.