By the Skin of Their Teeth
By the Skin of Their Teeth
Summary: Resentment simmer beneath the surface and the Paavo throws an untested weapon into the mix
Date: 129 ACH
Related Logs: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)

Small Arms Range Genesis - Deck 14
129 ACH 24277 Souls

The shooting range can hold up to a dozen personnel that are working on their firearms skills. Each booth has a scorecard. Buttons in the booth sends the target down a runner and brings the target back. A locker holds some weaponry and is code locked for Officers and marine NCO's only. Ear and eye gear hang within the booths for protection.

NOTE: Rubber bullets are all that is used here. They are not accurate.
< Condition Three —- Duty Area >
Contents: Adelaide Drusilla Maerker Praetoria Wireless 432

Exits: [O] Corridor

Maerker just sent: The LSO laughs and nods as he pulls his hearing protection over his ears. "If you can't find it, just pull one of the standard sidearms.. That's what you'll have to use when you do your annual qual."

Adelaide is cleaning up the pile of guns which fell off the racks when she fell over in the locker. "I know I know." She says almost finished now, finally she spots it and gives a crow of delight. "Here it is!" She picks it up, and walks over to the table. "Hasn't been used since I used it last, noone cares for you." She hugs the hun being overly silly because she knows Josh is listening. "Poor, poor little baby."

The LSO smiles and nods… "I swear, I work with crazies. You might want to put your hearing protection on," he says as he draw up a bead on the target, waiting to see that her ears are protected before he starts his practice rounds.

Captain Drusilla Oliveira walked into the vestibule of the firing range. She was dressed in her colonial blues, as she was wont to be found pretty much anywhere other than the officer berths and occasionally the laundry room down on Deck 9. Proper and prim, the lady lawyer made her way to the weapon rack. A pistol would do nicely for her, Navy didn't have a whole lot of use for the heavier carbines. But she found herself frowning when she came upon the scene of Adelaide messing through the disorderly pile of weapons. "Crewman Yama." she greeted. The woman's voice was stern, she was putting the weight of her insignia into it. A curious eyebrow lifted as the woman clasped her hands behind her. "Is there a problem?" A glance was cast toward Maerker and a nod granted to the fellow captain.

Never get between a woman and her handgun, no matter the dynamics or reason behind it. She had too much time with hostage negotiations to not heed it. As she enters her walk is languid and smooth, a confident air radiating from her as though she knows her place in the world and is content. Tori lets the others sort out the flux between them while stopping to sign out a handgun, ear protection, ammo and eye gear. A pleasant nod to each in turn and she finds an open spot on the range.

Maerker turns around to see Drusilla enter the compartment and habitually safes the range, despite there being only two shooters on the line. "Weapons safed and down on the table, firing line secured and safe." He nods and walcomes the JAG Officer. "Afternnon, Captain… Crewman Yama had a minor accident obtaining her weapon," nodding towards the Small Arms Locker. "We were about to start shooting, but you're welcome to join in if you like."

Adelaide looks up from her place sat at the table and points to the LOS. "What he said Ma'am." She says going to carefully take the weapon apart and begin cleaning it. "Not need to get upset, nothing was damaged and I'm sure having an accident isn't against regs." She mutters and turns away. The Marine chick is spotted and she gives her wave. "Hello again." She calls.

There was somebody who wasn't getting on Drusilla's birthday card list and right now that somebody was Adelaide. It was true, there was a place for 'accidents' in life to be sure: anywhere the lady lawyer happened to not be. She sighed, exhaling sharply out of her nostrels. Maerker was the poor crewman's CO, though, and he seemed to have everything in control. Drusilla let the matter go and she nodded to Adelaide, nothing more than an acknowlegement. "Thank you, Captain." she said to Maerker, her severe beauty softening somewhat. "I believe I shall." She let Tori go afore her before laying claim to her own pistol, array of magazines, and protective headgear.

Praetoria pauses before covering her ears, turning impassively, the movement measured and well-learned from many years before. Full lips lift in a smile of recognition before moving to the one they address as Captain, who commands a goodly measure of attention to catalog the woman and her variable nuances to those around her. And then on to the solidly built LSO who indeed filled out his off duties well. A sweep of her lashes returned her facing her target, waiting until everyones ears were protected as she loaded the cartridge of her firearm and readied it for the reason she was here.

If anything could be said of Drusilla it would be that she was deliberate. Her uniform was immaculate, neither an untoward crease nor a blemish stain to mar the blue fabrics. Her hair was coifed and appeared tended to with delicate precision. Her demeanour was straight, rigid, her movements full of angles. If there was anything wild about this woman, it could quite possibly be her eyes: dull, grey, emotionless yet furtive nonetheless, as if they were ever searching for something. She moved on to the range proper, taking up the booth between Tori and Maerker. She arrayed her equipment before her with precision, each magazine spaced equidistant with one another. Affising her headgear, first the ear muffs and then the goggles, the woman proceeded to check her weapon before loading it and switching off the safety. She was ready.

Adelaide goes quiet now as she goes to clean the run, letting the conversation drift around her as she happily goes about her task.

With a quick glance side to side, Tori makes certain of those on the line's preparedness. Once assured, she seems to be timing herself during this round. The cartridge is clicked into place and she proceeds to shoot six rounds, lower her firearm, raise it and then continue in that vein until the ammo is exhausted. Her fingers touch the button to jettison the target to her for her to look at with a critical eye.

Pulling back the slide, Drusilla armed the chamber. Raising her weapon, she took careful aim before finally inserting her finger into the trigger guard and then another second before she finally squeezed the trigger to release the projectile into the defenseless target before her. Like the marine to her side, the lady lawyer was taking her time, true to her nature she was deliberate in her shooting. One, then two shots. Again and again until her own magazine had been emptied. She compared her results to that of Tori's as both targets completed their approach. Her own hits seemed haphazard, in spite of the time she took. Drusilla was not a very accomplished pistoleer, or at the very least she was rusty, yet she managed to hit the kill zone with adequate results. Enough to debilitate a centurion, if it ever came to that.

Praetoria stands in the line, shooting gear in place. Seeing the new person in the corner of her eye, she pauses, lifting her firearm to hold before continuing.

Paavo enters the shooting range stooped and dragging something. A large metalic case with wires, diodes and pipes snaking back and forth around it. The two wheels on the aft end slowly trundling across the ground as it's half dragged into the room. The officer dragging it is also holding something vaugely rifle like over his left shoulder, with that hand. Grunting and occasionally coughing he starts heading towards one of the dozen shooting booths. At least one that's empty, or containing someone he outranks.

Whle clearly admiring Praetoria's shooting, she noticed the woman's attention being drawn and subsequently found her interest piqued. It was onyl piqued further when she turned her head to see Paavo arrive on the scene with that… well, whatever it was. "Hmph." she exclaimed to herself. Then, remembering the marine standing to her side, turned her head to look to the other woman. "Have you any idea what that thing is?"

Praetoria removes her ear protection and with an earthy drawl replies, "As long as it's not a dead body, he can drag whatever the Hades he wants in here." Though her hazel eyes are humorfilled with interest.

Paavo snarls a curse as the device is jolted by a plate shift in the flooring. Then finally he reaches the shooting stand. Setting it down and beginning to open panels along the outside of the device. Soon a hum eminates from it as it begins to glow and a small blue screen pops up in one of the center ports. Setting the rifle down on the shooting stand's table he calmly sets about connecting a large cord from it to the device. Flipping a few switches the rifle like weapon hums to life as well and begins to flash as small LED's dance out some technical code.

Adelaide is sat at the table in the range area polishing a weapon, she cooning to it slowly whispering sweet nothings. "Nice little gun, good little gun your my little friend." Of course she's being funny for the benifit of those in the room. As more people filter in she looks up and spots the strange science guy. "We meet again Doctor sir." She calls waving a little hand at him. "Nice weapon you got their, make sure you don't shoot your eye out." She teases with a grin. "I know I would."

That -wasn't- what she had asked. The think pursing of her lips manifested Drusilla's displeasure with the answer. She arched an eyebrow in challenge. "And if it -were- a dead body, Corporal?" she asked, her voice dry with the trace of an Aerelon broque, "What would you do then?" She did not look back to see what Paavo was up to just yet.

Praetoria asides, "Then I'd have to arrest his ass and throw him in the brig where we could interrogate him. But I can tell you, if that thing blows up, when I get out of sick bay, I will come and kick his ass if he's not blown to kingdom come because of it."

Paavo glances up and blinks, narrowing his eyes he seems to finally be able to place where the voice comes from. First there's a sigh, then a nod. "Ah yes, the crewman from the deck area. For the hour long, five minute telemetry download." He smirks and shrugs. "I hope I didn't cause you any extra work…. as for this. You cannot shoot eyes out with it. Nothing so crude." He holds the rifle part in both hands, equal parts sleek styling and even seemingly hand tooling in the metalic stock; as well as equal parts deranged science as heat sinks, capacitors and three beer can sized projectors surround the barrel. "This is part of the great work." Turning to look across the range's boxes he clears his throat loudly. "IT will not EXPLODE, I assure you. You are in danger only of learning something…" He mutters, half to himself. "Unforunately not manners."

Adelaide shakes her head at the man. "Nah nothing I was doing anyway really just weekly maintance on the fighters and wondering around looking for trouble." She tells the Doctor. "Sorry it took you so long, us deckies can get a little protective about our deck. Hope we wasnt' too rude." She then eyes his weapon and hmms. "I think if you can shoot anything with that thing…" She trails off and laughs at his mutter, by now she's standing next to the man and leans over to say something softly.

Adelaide whispers to Paavo.

-That- answer seemed to please the Captain. The pursed line was replaced by a broad smirk as Drusilla's entire demeanour seemed to change as her frosty exterior cracked with some strange degree of warmpth. "MP?" she inquired, her other eyebrow now arisen to match its twin. But Paavo's overt expression of intellectual arrogance had caught her attention and before she would wait for an answer the lady lawyer spun around and said, "Failure is just as adequate a teacher as success." she told the man with a loftiness measured to meet his own. "It is only the pre-conceived notions of the individual, and his adherence to them, that inhibits their learning."

Praetoria's back is to the shelf on the line, her arms crossed. Her earphones are around her neck and her long legs are nonchalantly crossed as she watches the scientist. "You are -not- getting that contraption anywhere near me. No. Frakkin'. Way" The latter enunciated fully. She steps away, giving him an overly-wide berth, moving to the very back of the firing range and even then not confident of her safety. She nods her assent towards the Captain with a confirming, "That I am and I know how to use my MPness."

Paavo flips a few switches on the device. Soon it begins to hum to life with a loud "WOM-WOM-WOM" a steady ryhtmic pulse as the generator comes fully online. He shrugs towards Adelaide. "This is all to be expected, I am told people cope with disaster by trying to control all the facets of life around them. No, your crew was no more beligerent then any others." He smirks then. "As for shoot.. this is .. it will require it's own transitive verb to describe what it does." He frowns then turning his attention towards Drusilla and waves his left hand dismissively. "Yes, and the only true failure is to never have tried. I am well acquanted with motivational garbage. The truism you are looking for, is that there is no such thing as failure. As each of our misteps only goes to show us the true path. Yes?" He snorts and raises the weapon to his shoulder. "Now, let us see if this path is true." The end of the rifle, once aimed begins to glow with a pinpoint of light. The three projectors hum and the air seems to ripple before them. He clears his throat. "In a few moments, there is a warm up time…" He continues to stand poised to fire, coughing once.

Adelaide smirks at the whispered comment and stands back a little as she takes aim, with a frown she looks at the JAG officer. "Ma'am no offence, but can you just relax a little not everyone around you want to be lectured and look at like their some criminal we are here after all to relax and train. If you must do this can't you wait until we're on duty." She sounds only slightly annoyed the woman behaviour getting on her last nerve. She then turns back to Paavo and his mystery weapon. "Bottle of moonshine he misses and hits the air filters." She says giving the man a wink. "I have complete faith in you sir, just making this interesting."

"Now I have seen everything…" The LSO looks over the… Thing… That Paavo has brought in. He holsters his sidearm into his gunbelt and looks at the contraption, perplexed at just what it really is. "Okay, mind telling us what it is?" He looks it over some more…

Drusilla opened her mouth to respond to the scientist experimenteur. "Only in the face of a relativist argume—" Yet the man left little opening for a response as the lady lawyer found herself overwhelmed by strange device as it charged. WOM-ment-WOM-can-WOM-you… Damned if she intended to bother talking over a machine. She looked back to the marine, noting that Praetoria had established herself a nice little coushion zone. She could make trouble for Paavo, check to see his clearance for testing the equipment. This was not a secure area. Arrogance was one thing, but obnoxious arrogance, it had a tendency to rile her. But the arrogance of an enlisted personnel attempting to lecture -her-. Drusilla bristled. The carefully coifed locks of her seemed to stand on end of their own will, though perhaps it was just an illusion of the lighting. The firearm in her hand was set to safety on, and put aside. She approached the trio around the strange device. "Captain Maerker." she said with icy coolness, her voice monotonous and smooth, "is this how your enlisted personnel traditionally address officers of the Colonial navy?" The line was drawn. Adelaide might be everyone favorite, but there was a hierarchy to adhere to on or off duty and Drusilla was already drawing up a list of possible offenses the crewman could be sited for. Convenient, having an MP about.

The main transitive verbs Tori can come up with is either Frak or Shit, either interchangeable in this circumstance. She pats her belt for her cuffs, realizing she left them stowed elsewhere.
She then begins praying, promising she'll meet her parents on the other side, looking frantically towards the door and knowing she can't leave these innocent people here to die alone and so she mesmerizingly watches the lights on the machine, listens to the wom-wom-wom, which is strangely compelling and knows that they're all going to die because of this frakkin' scientist. Hopefully the only thing this man'll shoot off is his own gods damned shoulder.

The scientist poised with his weapon seems about ready to fire.. "I cannot miss, this weapon generates it's own pathway to the target, where it is aimed.." ..when a odor begins to coalesce into the room. Not just any odor, at the earliest sniff it's merely just odd, but soon, very soon it becomes pungent. Something akin to wet dogs being lit on fire then extinguished with cat urine. "..oh no..what" Paavo himself, holding the device gets the greatest lungful of it, and his eyes and nose begins to run as he staggers. "The.. Ionization must be off. The air channel is spreading without dissipation.." Stifling his mouth with one hand he lays the rifle on the table and quickly begins tapping keys on the generator he dragged in behind him. Within a few minutes the odor dissipates like a rotten nightmare.
Producing a cloth he leans against the shooting booth's table and coughs into, wracking shuddering breaths until he manages to shake his head. "Calibration error, nothing more.. Give me a moment to catch my breath." He clears his throat and produces a slim recorder from a pocket. "Note unintended side effect, if ionization stream is not tightened.. produces mildno.. moderate odor."

The LSO looks to Drusilla and crosses his arms. Talking about etiquette isn't something he's suited for, but he can usually make his point. "No Captain, it isn't… However, I would like to point out that Crewman Yama is off-duty, as am I. Now I won't tell you that I disagree that a certain protocol has to be maintained at all times. Quite the opposite in fact; the sad truth is that we're less than 25000 people, and right now, I do believe a certain leeway in certain instances is acceptable." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose slightly and goes on. "I think I'm going to need a drink after this…"

Adelaide shakes her head slambs down the gun she was holding and heads for the door. She is going to find a drink. "I'll just leave, no problem there, room is starting to smell a little funny anyway."

Adelaide leaves for Corridor 14C [O].

Praetoria is just content she didn't have to arrest anyone today. Yeah, a write up to the scientist's CO, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. Visions of death and destruction averted. Casually, she moves from her position, her long legs making short shrift from the rear of the firing range to the front where she takes her place once more before her firearm and accouterments. Unless the Cap and the LSO come to blows, she's not needed.

Drusilla looked into Maerker's eyes. She nodded her head. She did not require such dramatics as crossing her arms, the woman's intensity was fierce enough that she could muster the level of bearing as the other's gesticulation. She was not angry with Maerker, though. Silently, she nodded her head as she listened to the man's argument. "I am content with that, Captain." she said, the icyness dwindling from her voice even though the even modulation remained. She presumed he was taking responsibility of the matter. Adelaide's retreat went largely unnoticed, as much on purpose as it was the fact her attentions were elsewhere at the moemnt. The tension dissipated, Drusilla's senses finally caught up with the scent. "Good day, Captain Maerker. I think I will depart to the lounge." And then Drusilla made her retreat, a nod spared to the MP who seemed also to have a similar idea.

The LSO sighs and looks to the shapely Praetoria, then to Paavo… "I think I need one too…" Without warning, he unbuckles his gunbelt and slings it over his shoulder, then heads out the door to hit the showers.

Maerker leaves for Corridor 14C [O].

Paavo leans against his shooting stand looking up and around. "Where did everyone go?" He coughs again and tries to wipe his eyes clear as he sets about disassembling the prototype weapon. He breathes heavily as his hands begin to close down the device for the evening.

Praetoria's voice is deadpan as she recites, "I believe it was the smell your equipment released, Lt."

Paavo coughs. "A minor side effect! I had thought this was a ship of war. Surely a mere odor isn't going to chase hardened soldiers from a room?" He holds up a cable and stares at it. As if not sure where it came from, or what it goes too. His brow furrows as he squints then shaking his head he simply ties it around his wrist to deal with later.

Praetoria draws her ear protection down around her neck, removes the cartridge from her firearm and turns towards him, "I think the smell just exacerbated the underlying displeasure some had in the room for one another." She steps forward and pats the man on the shoulder, "Maybe you should make sure it's fully functioning before releasing it in public, hm?"

Paavo blinks and glances at the hand on his shoulder then back towards the women with a raised eyebrow. "Yes well, science will have it's setbacks. This was merely a trial run. The theroy is sound, soon we won't have to bother with obscenely archaic chemical propulsion weapons. This is but one more step in the Great Work." He coughs again, then pulls the stock from the firearm, showing it's on a rotating hinge allowing it to be shrunk down to nearly half it's size and allowing for a pistol grip. "But.. thank you for your.. attempt at reasurance. Though I am sure I would rather simply not have my … ass thrown in prison? Yes?"

Praetoria laughs softly, "I'd have only done that if you'd blown something up, Lt. You didn't, no harm no foul." Her caramel skinned hand retreats. "Can I help you get that back to your lab?"

Paavo he raises his own hand, pale though once tanned, now covered with slim scars and splotched with burn marks, to wipe at his still watering eyes. "No, no I think I can handle it myself officer…?" He squints, then coughs. "Yes of course, how rude of me. I am Lieutenant Paavo Mirtenin, Weapons Development." He extends his other hand which is similar to the first. "Yes, I didn't explode anything.. this was… supposed to be the final test."

Praetoria grips the hand, lightly due to her notice of the scars and old burns riddling his skin. "Corporal Praetoria Faraji, Lt. And it is a pleasure, if not a most auspicious way of meeting."

Paavo nods slowly. "Ah yes, enlisted, I suppose that means I have to yell at you and order you to do busy work." He makes a dismisive motion with his other hand. "I'll make a note to do that later, I'm a bit yelled out at the moment." He coughs once more then pauses. Tilting his head he looks at her and raises an eyebrow. "Praetoria …Faraji? … interesting name. You did not have a brother at NPU did you? Physics department?"

You say, "It may have been an uncle, sir (the sir honorary rather than for rank). I come from a very large family. May I get you some water and you can tell me about your work here?"

Paavo blinks. "Water? Yes. I would like that… strange." He turns away for a moment to hook the firearm part of the device to the generator box. "You're not what I would expect from military police officer. If I am assuming correctly, given what you were speaking about, yes?" He kneels then and starts closing the various panels and ports, tucking wires and cables away safely and securely.

Praetoria steps to the cooler, pulling off a cup and fills it with water before stepping back to him, "Yes, sir. MP." She waits until he's finished securing his gear, her stance one of grace and patience.

Paavo stands back up and turns. "Oh, yes, thank you." He accepts the cup and sets it down on the shooting stand. Producing a thin black bag he dumps some white powder out into the liquid and stirs it with his finger. "Thank you very much, as I was saying I didn't expect this from a military police officer. My experiance has been much more… antagonistic."

Praetoria seats herself on the edge of a nearby arm of the couch, "Oh? Whyever would that be, sir?" Her full lips gently lift in an amused smile, hands once more retreating to rest in her lap.

Paavo sips his water and is quiet for a moment as if forming the reply. Eventually he speaks. "Because at times I am a highly dangerous disident officer." He offers a thin smile. "Usually I deal with officers when a project I am working on is deemed too… dangerous or… what was the word they used for the DEMP? Oh… " he closes his eyes. "..provocative. Yes." Another wane smile as he opens his eyes. "Too provocative, too inciteful. Usually then the officers arrive and box up papers and project materials then stand in doorways." He motions with the cup. "I'm sorry, should I make some type of purile sexual remark about your appearance here? I'm a bit out of practice dealing with attractive women."

Praetoria laughs delightedly as his seque, having heard the most ribald to the most sincere, "There's no need to remark on anything, sir. I am quite fascinated by your massive amount of (she struggles with the appropriate word) nerve in taking on these provocative ventures."

Paavo pauses and frowns for a moment then he nods and takes another sip of his water. "Yes, I'm sure it doesn't sound very impressive. However, had I been allowed to continue the DEMP development things would have been different. The Great Work would be nearly complete now, rather then hanging on by a thread." He sighs and shrugs. "I believe I am interupting your practice Corpral? Not that it seems you need it. I'm going to assume you're sharpshooter?"

Praetoria inclines her head graciously, a smile lifting her full mouth, "I am, sir. And my need to be here was only driven by the boredom of my own company."

Paavo chuckles. "You go to a shooting range to socialize?" He glances upwards his eyes moving from left to right then he nods. "Makes sense I suppose, only those with similar interests would be present. Likely those you know, but a chance not the ones you work with everyday." He sips his water once more.

Praetoria tilts her head softly to observe him, "Sometimes it is easier to remain with those you work with, sir. You're used to their dynamics, their perks, their oddities. Nothing unexpected."

Paavo snorts. "Nothing dangerous, nothing unplanned for. Nothing that would require quick thinking. You might as well stay in uniform and live in your cell block then." He shakes his head. "That is not life…" Then offers a shrug. "Not that I am one to speak, however.." He coughs and takes another sip of his water. ".. I still manage to go new places. I'm sure you can see how often I handle a firearm. I assure my hit spread is so wide I manage to score points on the surrounding charts."

Praetoria laughs delightedly once more, the sound pleasing, not grating as some. "Yes, sir, which is why I force myself to leave my cell and explore, meet new people so I don't atrophy and wither." She leans forward conspiratorily, "I've been told I could improve my people skills."

Paavo raises an eyebrow. "Have you? You've been nothing but pleasent with me… outside of the prison, ass bit." He waves the last off dismisively. "Thank you again for the water by the way." He raises the glass and sips it, then continues. "You can also stop calling me sir if you want, I know it's trite, but honestly. I'm more used to refered to by my name, Paavo or if you must.. Professor. I am scientist far and above being a soldier or an officer." He glances into the water, watching the powder he poured into it swirl in the liquid. "Once there was a wonderful place, a place of science and everyone was equal there. Rank merely ment who's name went on the paper first. Officers would argue with enlisted and the arguement would be won by facts not by the number of years someone has managed to spend in the same set of clothing."

Praetoria listens quietly, a soft smile resting on her lips, "It sounds a most wonderful place, Professor. One where I could get alone famously, I think. Where was this place, if you don't mind me asking?"

Paavo shrugs. "It was a development annex of the Pico fleet yards. We worked on the …uh.." He snaps the fingers of his free hand once. "Mercury class.. yes as well other things of course. Rail weaponry, improving the FoF overlay. Navigational combat bouys." He motions vaugely. "All of those wonderful ideas that are probably classified." He shrugs. Then raises an eyebrow. "You have a scientific bent then? If you'd get along there?"

Praetoria does not shift or show impatience, but is content to continue speaking to the scientist. She figures if they need her, they'll contact her, "No, but I enjoy the sound of your voice as you speak of this place. It must hold dear memories for you, Professor. And I enjoy the part about no one feeling the need to salute or care about rank or title."

Paavo narrows his eyes again as he studies her, it's clear he's trying to interpret wether or not she's being sarcastic or faceitious. Eventually he nods, taking long drink on his water to prep his throat he continues. "It is where I should be. Where things move correctly. But it is gone now, of course. It will never be again." He shrugs. "Of course I allow you to avoid saluting or refering to me by my rank as you please. Though I should remind you, in the presence of other officers I am sure such things are still a sin."

Sacrilegiously she makes a holy sign accompanied by a brief eye roll. "Then I will be thought of a sinner, Professor. I'll let the other deal with the precision one needs to survive with one's rank." An elegant movement of her body as she stands, comfortable in her flesh. "Are you certain I can't give you a hand back with your equipment?"

Paavo offers a wane smile. "Thank you, but no. I already feel clumsy enough, I'm sure having you hauling my generator through the halls will just about do in my masculinity for some time." He shrugs. "As a scientist on a ship filled with pilots and marines, I have to take special care to make sure it's obvious I shouldn't be in a dress." He nods his head. "It was a pleasure meeting you Corpral, perhaps the next time you're looking to explore you'll drop by one of the research departments? I'm usually haunting them."

Praetoria offers her hand in farewell, "I shall look forward to it, professor. I would enjoy seeing your working environment."

Paavo nods and accepts the hand. "Yes, and I'm sure my working environment would be happy to see you as well." He pauses and rolls his eyes upwards. "Perhaps, perhaps you wandering into the research areas needs to be rethought we are talking about scientists afterall." He grins and inclines his head. "Good bye officer Faraji."

Praetoria grins lightly, "Maybe I won't wear my work clothes, Professor. I'll be very circumspect, I promise."

Paavo nods. "Good, good." He sets his empty glass of water aside and sets about finishing packing up his materials. "I'd hate to have to appologize for the entire department."

Praetoria looks solemnly at him, "I would never put you in a precarious position, Professor. I promise."

Paavo looks up from his equipment and tilts his head. "Should I be disapointed at that?"

Praetoria winks, "Not unless you want me to come in naked and then I'd let you explain that to your fellow scientists."

Paavo raises both brows and is quiet for a moment. Finally he adds. "Sorry, I was wondering if that would be worth it. Or is that again too purile a thing to say?"

Praetoria's brow lifts wickedly, "You let me know. I'm game if you are, just to show them the Professor is also a playah."

Paavo looks up once more from his generator, his hands sealing another plate. He pauses and tilts his head. "I'm sorry, a what?"

Praetoria clears her throat, "One who can get the chicks, professor."

Paavo nods slowly. "Yes, of course, the chicks." He shrugs. "I'm perfectly happy with the singular fowl, not plurals."

Praetoria laughs once more in delight and steps from him, "I promise I will visit soon. Fully clothed and sans my official uniform."

Paavo nods."Excellent, Good day." He smiles and turns back to his work.

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