Alfa Bits
Summary: Eleftherios gets a callsign.
Date: 0 BCH
Related Logs: None

Ambling across the flight deck, moving with a distracted sort of grace, the uniform clad figure of Eleftherios Tchatchke is visually inspecting, or even more clearly…ogling a parked Raptor. The lean, but young looking man is clearly somewhat in awe of the Genesis' flight deck, as he somehow manages to avoid being rundown by a group of deckhands in the process of moving ordinance. This, combined with the duffle slung over his shoulder? Well. That might just indicate that the Battlestar has itself another new arrival. Uh oh. Here comes yet another load of ammo bearing down from behind…and yet…he seems more than a bit oblivious.

"ENSIGN! Watch your ass, Godsdamnit!" comes the howl of from one of the Viper bays. Novella is standing at the top of a ladder with one foot in a Mark 7 and the other planted on the ladder. She's standing tall and motioning him to move, which is more of a wild gesture in her direction. The Petty Officer 2nd helping her with the preflight is just watching with a raised brow.

A glance up toward the shout from across the deck, and the young officer jerks a thumb toward his chest…as if to ask…'Who me?'. And, then he's looking over his shoulder, and sidestepping the incoming deck crew with a blink of big brown eyes. Gaze shifts back toward the Viper pilot, and Elef gives her a double thumbs on. Right on. The Fleet's eyes and ears at work, people. Always alert.

The woman standing on the Viper descends the ladder and leaves the Petty Officer standing at the top rolling her eyes. Novella approaches the man and looks after the fleeing deck crew. "Yes. You." She nods a few times up at him. "Remember, this is a flight deck, not an airfield. Tighter quarters and you will be run down." Bright green eyes flicker to the bag slung over his shoulder and she pokes once at the strap, expression nearly glowing into a giggle. "Lords! Are you a frakkin' nugget?!"

Eyeing the other pilot with what almost could pass for a bemused smirk, if she still wasn't so wide-eyed at the activity around him….Elef manages to look mildly abashed. For a moment. Though, it is not a look that seems particularly comfortable on his face. Soon, a very crooked smile spreads across his features. "Nugget? In the most traditional sense of the word…I suppose. This -is- my first cruise." There is an almost flippant gesture with his left hand, and a languid shrug. "But…I've been flying my whole life, Ensign…." There is a slow draw off…as if asking for an introduction…"And with Viper pilot's to watch my ass…I'm sure the deck crew won't run me down, anytime soon." There is a wry edge to his explanation…as he adds…"I should thank you, mind. But watching it is it's own reward, I've been told." Yep. He is likely just covering for his newness….and it is clear his words are more humour than true ego…but he wastes no time in trying to be just another one of the pilots. A very confident nugget.

"Sierra-frakkin-hotel." Novella just grins like a cat who has discovered a little mouse. She extends a hand to him. "Baylee Novella. Everyone calls me 'Cav.'" The blonde shakes her head a few times, smiling. "Fresh meat, ripe for a namin'. Don't matter if you've been flying for thirty seconds or your whole life nuggie, your first cruise will define your career and can make or break a pilot." Her head tilts, motion towards a Raptor. "I take it you're one of our Raptor boys? Don't get many Snake Sticks givin' the sex-eye to one of them."

"Eleftherios Tchatchke." A pause, and the dark-skinned Ensign's grin grows a bit…"People mostly call me…that poor bastard whose parents' were drunk when they named him…or sometimes less flattering things." As for her second question, she is given a nod of affirmation. "I figured that I'd best volunteer for Raptor training. -Someone- has to keep focused when you Viper jocks see somethin' shiny and get all distracted." Taking her hand, and giving it a firm shake, his grin grows a little bit dimmer. One can't maintain a constant edge of enthusiasm, apparently.

"Holy shit, Ensign. I'm not even going to try and repeat that name." She just stares at him, shaking his hand idly. Vulgar, isn't she? "How about I just called you 'Alfa'.. short for 'alphabet'. Lords know you've got the whole thing in that name someplace." Cav breathes a sigh of relief that she doesn't have to call him Ensign.. Tch.. Tahk.. T- Oh hell. "Heh, well I'm not about to discount the Raptor jockies. You all let us know whats up and come get us when we break our toys. And Hades.." The blonde points towards a Raptor-G. "Its not like you all don't have your own fun-time toys… Did you /just/ walk on board?"

There is a glance over toward the indicated Raptor, and the woman is given a nod, and a smirk. "Oh. I do rather like our ability to make things boom, when it's called for. I was sort've known for my ground attack skills, back in training." Which isn't to say that means much now, but he said it anyway! As to her suggestion that she call him Alfa…well, that draws a nod of affirmation, and he releases her hand, finally. "I can live with that. Better than people constantly frakkin' up my name. Gods…it isn't that hard…I could spell it as a wee little thing, after all." A wink, and he hefts his duffle for emphasis. "Frak yes. I came with the last supply shipment….and there was some processing error…and I got stuck aboard that tub…and then the station for an obscene amount of time." A look around the flight deck again, and a slight sigh. "Longest time of my life, I think. I was itchin' to get out here."

"Well it ain't all glitter and target practice out here, Alfa. We've seen some action the past few weeks, but nothing major and no combat. But we don't play games like your flight instructor did. Out here in the Fleet we play for keeps. Your targets skills mean precisely shit on a maneuvering target like a Viper. can back 'em up." Cav gives a wink of her own before looking to the Raptor-G. "Looks kinda ugly like that. Angry. Like it just swallowed a mouthful of piss, ya know?" She lets out a long sigh and looks back to the fresh meat. "Last supply ship? Damn. Wasn't a week and a half ago? Two weeks ago? You've been sitting on the PAS for that long? Gods, I'd've slit my wrists. Seen the rest of the boat yet?"

"I do think that they were considerin' taking away my belt. But, then the paperwork was cleared up…" As for her description of the Raptor-G…she is given an agreeable shrug, but no actual verbal response. Instead, Eleftherios is shifting ahead to the next topic, and he shakes his head, short dark hair still tousling a bit with the effort. "Negative. I haven't seen shit but this beautiful frakkin' flight deck, a buncha deckcrew that seem to want my ass dead, and a viper jock that seemed content to see me alive, and unsmushed."

Cav nods her head a few times. "This one ain't bad. Galactica's got a bigger one despite the old lady's age. Or maybe my eyes are just deceivin' again.." Those eyes turn back up to him. "I wouldn't say I'm 'content' to see you alive. Maybe pleased.. Besides, if you'd gotten trucked-over, there's no way I'd get out of here for my CAP. You'd be a bloody frakkin' mess on the deck in front of my bird." She gives him a big, sly grin and punches him lightly in the shoulder. "Welcome to the Genie, Alfa. I gotta get up on my patrol. I'll catch you in Mess or in the Lounge. Best of luck, kiddo." The blonde tosses him a two-finger salute and turns to head back towards her Viper.

He returns a jaunty little salute of his own, and watches the Viper pilot head off for her ship. Then, Alfa has he's apparently set to be known, turns toward the less-vaccuumy exit of the hangar deck, and makes his way in that direction..a little more aware of his surroundings…and a little less likely to get himself splattered 'fore he even suits up and takes his first patrol in a Raptor.

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