A chance to chat
A Chance to Chat
Summary: Sloane and Bayless get to chat, Chase shows up.
Date: 68 ACH
Related Logs: None

Bayless is sacked out in her bunk, an empty bottle of something-or-other cradled in one arm like a teddy bear. She's curled up on the military-grade mattress in her fatigues and bare feet, her socks and boots resting on the deck near her.

Sloane managed to find himself an empty bunk near the end of the night and passed out in it. The bottle that he was drinking from is nowhere to be found, perhaps thrown away in the stumble. Laying in one of the recessed wall-bunks on bunk three, he stirs slowly, narrowing his eyes a little. Letting out a slow sigh, he rolls onto his back and covers his eyes with his hand.

A pained not-so-ladylike grunt comes from Bayless' bunk as the Raptor Queen reaches some semblance of wakieness. She swings her legs out onto the deck, her head hung downwards. "Frak a maggot…" she mutters to herself with a bit of smacking of lips. Booze-flavored morning breath, a joy to behold.

"My…thoughts….exactly." Sloane manages out quietly, pushing himself up to sit as well. Eyes closed, he runs a hand over his head and grabs the rung near the top of the bunk to help pull himself up. At least he isn't too pained. For the most part he's avoided hangover, and he's not nauseous, but it's a hard wake up indeed.

Bayless exhales and sticks out her tongue as she slowly rises to her feet. "Good thing I don't have a CAP to fly for another…" She glances at the wall clock. "…ten hours. 'Course, I did write the duty roster. Go me." She then notices Sloane, then looks around. "I didn't crash in the Gold bunks, did I?"

Sloane looks up and then looks around, a small jack-assed smile forms over his lips as he takes a moment to look around. Blinking a few times, his eyes focus on the names on the bunks. He cringes. "No…I crashed in here…" He stands, still fully clothed in his off duty gear. He looks to her. "Did I pass out before you?"

Bayless shakes her head and pulls what strands of hair hang over her shoulder back behind her back. "Honest to gods, 'Bread, I can't remember to save my life." She makes a face. "Gotta brush my teeth…" She goes over to her locker and rummages for her toiletries.

Sloane nods, looking towards the door. "I don't have much of anything on my schedule, looks like we drew the same CAP." Sloane starts to slowly head towards the door. "I think I'm gonna go take a shower and do the same. You wanna go hang out somewhere? Lounge? Obs for coffee?"

Bayless looks back over her shoulder as she finds her toothbrush. "Hmm? Yeah, sure, sounds good…" She's still not entirely awake, it seems. "Sorry, 'Bread, I'm still a bit out of it. But I heard coffee which makes it a good idea." She manages a half-sleepy smile.

"Allright…" Sloane grunts out slowly, planting a hand on the door to the berthings to stabilize himself as he turns the handle slowly. He's going to get a few looks walking from Ares to Gold berthing with bed-head. "I'll meet yeh there…" He murmurs, stepping out into the hallway.

Bayless strolls into the Nest, travel-mug of java juice in one hand, and herself looking a little fresher than she did when she woke up. One of the recliners is in her sights as she makes her way over and gently collapses within it.

Taking a bit longer to shave and get himself a little more presentable, Sloane steps in a few moments later. His hair has been combed back and it is lightly damp, but a change of clothes and a all-too-quick shower has done wonders for the man. Looking around and spotting Bayless, he grabs a cup of coffee from the serving area and sits down on a double-cushioned chair next to her recliner. He leans on the arm of it and stretches his legs out beside him. "Hey…"

Bayless grins as Sloane arrives, saying to him after a sip of her beverage. "Hey." She blinks her eyes once or twice. "Starting to feel a bit more human. Hell, my forehead doesn't even hurt."

"My shoulder hurts a little, slept on it wrong, but aside from that I've got that little annoying headache at the base of the skull." Sloane smiles back to her and then sips his coffee. He closed his eyes. "Damn…that's good." He reflects, taking a long centering breath. "Hell of a night last night was, altogether."

Bayless nods. "Helluva night indeed." She sips at her coffee again. "Think that knuckledragger wised the frak up after last night..?" She obviously means Chase. "Gotta thank you again for leading that idiot outta here."

"I didn't know if anyone else was capable of doing it quietly." Sloane replies with a smile, looking to her. "The mental roster I've got pretty much figured that guy was gonna have to get dragged. Guess I've got alot of practices, cousins' weddings and all." He replies. "You're welcome, Scorch."

Bayless sighs and leans back in her seat. "So I hear that bet of Flask and Wide Load's got a little out of proportion." Her eyes roll from the direction of the ceiling to him.

"You have…" Sloane rolls his eyes a little bit. "…no frakking idea." He takes a moment to sip his coffee before he continues. "You were there, all I did was tell the guy 'hey, hook me up with a good date and I'll get you the lead on the keyboard'. I think it's resulted in him finding every pretty girl he can and proceed to make me look so, so sad." Sloane looks to her again. "Heard he talked to you…I apologize about that."

Bayless smiles. "You know, I told Flask I'd go out with you. I figured you'd had your dignity mashed into the deckplating long enough."

"Well if I wouldn't have tried to play coy and see if you'd offer to be the date right there and asked you in the first place I wouldn't have gotten myself in this mess now would I have?" Cornbread replies, flashing her a smile.

Bayless giggles a bit and sighs. "Yeah… though I think Flask and 'Load are as much to blame for it."

"Yeah…I'm sure they are. I think everyone's spontaneous enough around here, and I'm glad they care, you know…I just…" He fails to make complete statements and rolls his eyes a little. "They're an odd bunch. Can't wait for the wedding. Those two are seriously pulling at eachothers' pigtails."

Bayless grins, very amused at the prospect of the two of them hooking up. "I think the term's 'gagging for each other.' And the emphasis is on 'gag.'" She points to her open mouth and coughs, then laughs one of those throw-the-head-back laughs.

Sloane laughs openly with her, eyes crinkling with delight at the joke. "Yeah, I got the feeling that the two of them were hate-flirting for a while, but who knows. I think he's dating Tempo though, I don't know. Not to gossip and all, but who knows what's going on with that."

Bayless shakes her head, the two sitting in adjoining recliners. "Frak if I know… I've only been squad leader a couple weeks. I'm doing okay to keep their duty roster straight. Lovelives I'm easing into. And for the record, my dear Cornbread, you're not exactly the only stickjock on this boat that's been a little dry on the dating front." She gives Sloane a knowing nod.

Chase as good as drags himself in, looking dog-tired and asswhupped by life. Stifling a yawn, he aims for a free comfy chair, not really paying attention to who else is already here.

"Well then perhaps we'll have to remedy that. When's your next upcoming leave?" Sloane asks, turning a little. Spying Chase enter after hearing the footfalls from near the door, he nods to the man in a look of recognition.

"I've had to shuffle a bit since I got promoted, and I'm still getting things back in order. But I'll letcha know." Chase's arrival gets her notice, earning a neutral look from the Raptor Queen.

Chase gives the pilots a wary look, like a feral cat who's had one rock too many thrown at it. It's half-cautious, half-challenging, and entirely unlike the usually-amiable Chase. He proceeds to flop down into a chair.

"Please do. I've got a few connections at Spotlights and they can probably get me a good table." Sloane inserts quietly to Bayless as he watches Chase. Deciding not to throw gasoline on the fire, he looks back to Bayless. "You dance at all?"

Bayless smiles a bit at the question. "Ummm… a little bit. It's been a while, I have to admit." She glances over to Chase, then says to Sloane, "Gimme a sec?" Scorch sets her coffee on the deck and makes her way over to Chase. "Hey, got a second?"

Chase was just on the verge of closing his eyes as he settled back in the chair, when Bayless comes over. He cracks open an eye. Considers whether or not the situation calls for protocol. Decides that it seems to be otherwise. "Got a few," he says warily.

[Intercom] Colonel Fotilas and Sergeant Ramiro. Report to the Marine Offices immediately.
[Intercom] Colonel Fotilas and Sergeant Ramiro. Report to the Marine Offices immediately.

Sloane nods to Bayless as she steps off and decides to give them some privacy. Leaning back on his small loveseat, he pulls a blanket over his legs and turns his eyes to the viewscreen and the Red Planet below. Looking it over, wondering if landmarks can be seen from space, he eyeballs the planet quietly.

Bayless pauses a moment, then says to Chase, "Look, I'll admit I was a bit pissed about last night. Most of us were. But I'm willing to think you didn't know the funeral was happening. Fact is, it's us against the Toasters, and the less us vs. us crap going around, the better. So, at least where I sit, no hard feelings."

Chase dips his head briefly. "Yeah, well," he says tiredly. "Double shifts. Alert on duty, not so much off. Didn't get the memo that something was going on. Certainly didn't intend to become Genesis' Least Wanted."

Sloane can't help but overhear, but what he does do (which is important) is not interrupt. He's already had a quiet and unfriendly word with the Specialist and considers Bayless' words as she speaks. He gives a quiet smile and a nod as Chase replies.

Bayless smiles sympathetically. "We all do something that pisses somebody off. Sometimes it's a lot of people. But we're all we got right now, and some stuff we just have to learn to let go. In any case, you won't get any flack from me over it." She smiles and makes her way back over to her chair.

"Much appreciated," says Chase dryly, with a nod. "One or two down… three squadrons or so to go." Because pilots look after their own, and run in packs. He's clearly not had a fun day.

Sipping his coffee quietly, Sloane smiles as he eavesdrops and nods absent-mindedly. They definitely do have their points. Eyes still on the viewscreen, watching the nearby planet rotate amongst the backdrop of the other ships in his fleet, he frowns a little. He makes a mental note to get Chase off the hook a little bit.

Bayless sits down back next to Sloane, taking another sip of her coffee mug. She nods in Chase's direction, "Needed to be said. And sorry for bailing during your wooing." She gives him a wink.

Chase just closes his eyes, apparently taking the opportunity to grab a power nap at last. At least he can be fairly sure no one here will try to kill him in his sleep.

Sloane winks back at Bayless, shaking his head from left to right. "Hey it's no problem. I'm gonna go over to him in a bit as well. Was pretty harsh with him last night in the hallway." He replies, giving her an awkward cringe. "What you said was right, we're all family. People make mistakes, no reason to boil him in oil, right?"

Chase power-naps for the moment, taking a brief respite from the stresses of the job and all that other stuff. Like any good military type, he can sleep anywhere,anytime, at the drop of a hat. And dream of flowers.

Bayless nods. "Agreed. Too much bad feeling going around to add more. So what were you saying about Spotlights?" she asks with an interested expression.

"Well…" Sloane smiles. "It's a good, quiet place to get some dinner. There's a piano player there too." He shrugs. "There's also the Panther if loud and more relaxed is your style. There really isn't a club worth mentioning on the Destiny and with the Hera getting retrofitted I'm assuming that place is going belly up."

Bayless grins and smiles to Sloane. "I think I could seriously go for a nice dinner. My head's still on the bruised side so I imagine loud's not gonna be an option for a few days still." The two pilots are speaking to one another in side-by-side recliners.

"Then Spotlights it is." Sloane replies, turning his head to look at Bayless again. "Should probably warn you ahead of time it's the official classy place around here. I don't have a tie or anything but I'll probably wear a nice shirt." He says, giving her an idea of the atmosphere. "You should hear the pianist there, puts alot of heart into it."

Bayless grins. "Sounds like a plan. I'll see if I can manage something that doesn't look like I just fell out of a Marine's locker."

Sloane grins back, tilting his head a little and leaning back as he sips from his mug. "Sounds like a date then. I've got enough leave saved up that I can shift things around. Besides I'm pretty sure that Flask wouldn't mind shifting a CAP around so that I can go on leave after all this hard work. I'll just bring back the keyboard for him."

Bayless grins just as the intercom rings out, "Lieutenant Bayless, report to ready room. Say again, Lieutenant Bayless, report to ready room." She frowns, "Looks like break time's over."

"Allright…" Sloane smiles to her. She's got her spillproof mug, so he doesn't offer to take care of her mug for her. Raising his own mug in a light salute, he nods to her. "I'll see you around, Scorch."

Bayless nods and takes up her mug before tossing a wave Cornbread's way. "Take it easy, 'Bread." She then heads towards the corridor.

Once Bayless leaves, Cornbread stands up and moves to the row where Chase is, seating himself down in the chair next to his. Quiet for a long moment, he breaks the silence. "You awake?"

Snrrk- Chase cracks open an eye. "Depends," he tells Sloane dubiously.

"I wanted to apologize." Sloane offers, looking over to Chase. "I was upset at the time and didn't think that you were probably just as assed out as the rest of us. Yeah, it was awkward and really, really bad timing. But I am going to have a chat with the people in the wing."

Chase sits up a bit, and nods. "Yeah. Well. Not my finest moment, I'll give you that," he says. "Be nice of you to tell people I didn't mean to offend anyone. Kinda sucks having the entire Air Wing treating me like crap."

"Yeah. I'll definitely tell them that. It was the heat of the moment and in all fairness it's not as if there were caskets here. It hurts, but I understand." Sloane smiles weakly. "I'll talk to them, but in all seriousness it wouldn't hurt to write an apology. It shows initiative."

Chase makes a face, but nods. "Yeah, I'll think about it. Not really an apology-writing person. Not really a people person, not that that's a surprise, I bet."

"Allright man. I respect that but consider this: Any apology for the slight coming from me on your behalf isn't going to have half the weight that one coming from you personally is." Sloane replies. "If you do want to deliver one, I'd send it to the CAG."

Chase nods again. "I'll see what comes from the heart," he says dryly. "Can't promise it'll be terribly eloquent or anything, though." He shrugs. "I'll do what I can."

"Hey it's not an order man…" Sloane shakes his head. "…it's a respect thing. I don't exactly have the clout or the rank to tell them what to do." He pauses, extending a hand. "Ensign Antonio Sloane. Cornbread. Gold Squadron Vipers."

Chase shakes the hand amiably enough. "Specialist Chase Alderman. Deck Tech. Your joystick pulls to the right two degrees, and your thrusters run just a little cold. I think it's an intermittent defect. Not a big one, but annoying."

"So you're the guy that's been keeping my girl in shape." Sloane replies, shaking the hand with a grin. "I've been meaning to come and track you down. You do a hell of a job. She was flying beautifully last mission."

Chase flashes a quick smile, and nods. "Deck works hard to keep you guys flying properly. Not as easy a job as we make it out to be, especially the way some of you try and abuse your ships." He shakes his head, briefly. "Not you, but some people…"

"But the leads, right?" Sloane smiles, finishing his coffee. "Lately I've been on wingman, protecting the lead in the pairings. So that leaves me to sit back a bit and focus on protecting my wingman while he or she leads me into the fire. It's less dangerous but there's more responsibility."

Chase nods briefly. "Yup. Leads, and people who bring back their ships all shot up." He shrugs, thoughtfully. "It happens. Don't break anything important."

"I try my best but the Raiders get really, really anxious." Sloane says with a shrug. "It's all good though, you guys do a great job down there, giving us the best we get. The birds fly great, usually it just comes down to the dogfight." He pauses. "Were you enlisted here before the attacks?"

Chase nods to Sloane in reply. "Yup. I was here a few months before things went to Hades in a handbasket. I just don't get out much… always work to be done. It's not easy knowing that the smallest uncaught mistake might degrade Viper performance and get someone killed out there."

"So that explains the tiredness." Sloane replies. "After the last mission, all the banged up Vipers and Raptors…" He trails off nodding slowly. "Am I interrupting your downtime?"

Chase shrugs a little. "I'll manage. I was tired to begin with… but today wasn't exactly a picnic what with the angry pilots doing everything but leaving a horse's head in my bunk, y'know? I don't need much rest, just enough that I don't frazzle out and crosswire something."

"Well on that note, I think I'm going to go try to track a few of them down and have a chat with them." Sloane says, slowly standing. "I'll let you get back to your rest, allright? I'm really glad we got to have this talk."

Chase smiles, quickly, and nods. "Me too. Good luck with all that. Thanks for, y'know, understanding. Maybe I didn't know the guys you lost personally, but I know them all by the birds they fly."

"Anytime, Chase, anytime." Sloane says, giving the man a nod and then turns to set his mug on the tray to be cleaned. Giving the deck crew member a wave, he nods and turns towards the door. Opening it, he steps outside.

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