Light to Dark
Light to Dark
Summary: A light convo with Micah takes a furious and dark turn for Novella.
Date: 26 ACH
Related Logs: None.

Fort Bachus Leonis - Landing
26 ACH 6735 Souls

An old air strip is still seen here except for being broken up over time and weather. A heavily chain-linked area with a wide gate of "KEEP OUT" sits there as some old sentinel, still guarding. Seemingly well guarded from flight paths, due to the range around them. The area is pock marked with strafing runs. Set into the side of the mountain, the remains of an old bunker still sits. The metal door has been half torn from its hinges and the blowing snow has began to cover the area as deep winter sets in.

<WEATHER> It is morning. Flurries begin falling as the sky lightens to overcast grey. A cold breeze blows from the southeast.

There is a quantity of snow kicked up around one of the raptors with its engines cooling, and footprints leading back into the bunker. Two sets returning, where surely more left. One of the pilots is dressed in his flight suit and seated on the ship's ramp, smoking a cigarette.

Novella comes tromping around the Raptor, kicking up giant arcs of snow with the toe of her boot. Rawr! She's cradling a rifle but getting her to behave like anything except an 8 year old girl may be difficult. When she see's Micah sitting on the ramp, she vocally 'rawr!'s at him, grinning. "Hi there, Ensign Saint Germain! What's happening in the world of Raptor that I missed?" She makes her way over in the deep snow to plop onto the ramp next to him.

Micah lifts his eyes but not his head, when Novella comes tromping around the raptor and into his field of view. Her greeting receives a grunt from him that might signify the same, and he takes a long drag of the cigarette. "Hell if I know. Just got done playing taxi duty to a few Marines, but I think they foun' something out there.. wouldn' talk t'me about it."

Novella swings her legs, kicking at the snow. But she looks over to Micah. "Really? Yeah I saw that one of by pretty armored cabins was no longer looking so pretty covered in snow." She shakes her head. "And you went out without me… Ass." The blond winks at him and looks back out to the treeline. "So what do you think they found? Best guess?"

A small grin cracks the kid's brooding facade when she calls him an ass, and he takes another pull of his smoke before exhaling through nose and lips. "They wanted someone there on the double, an' I couldn't find you, crumpet." He taps some ash from the cigarette, into the snow. "Haven't found much wildlife on the sensors, so my guess is toasters." A look is darted sidelong at Novella.

Rycard has arrived.

The pair of pilots are sitting on the ramp of the Raptor that went out to pick up the Marines earlier. Micah is smoking a cigarette and Novella is kicking at the snow under the ramp, he legs swinging. Both seem to be in high spirits. "You couldn't find me? Obviously you didn't look hard enough." She peers back at him. "You know what I think? I think you want all the glory for yourself. Hoggin' it up, spendin' it likes its cubits at the bar. Uh huh.. I see how it is." She grins at him, the mood fading a touch at his mention of the wildlife. "Well, still.. Some is some. Its better than an extinction the toasters might be working at. Makes sense though. They kill wildlife? It eliminates any real indigenous food source for groups like us."

"Not quite what I meant," Micah replies, cigarette hand resting on his knee for a little while as the last of the smoke curls from his mouth. "I meant, I think the search team found toasters. There was a call to 'engage the enemy', an' ah'm guessing that wasn't in reference to a bear." Smirking a bit, he adds, "If you want to be found next time, then stick close t'me where I can keep an eye on you."

The door to the bunker swings open and out steps Rycard. He mutters something about the cold and then heads on over towards the other two pilots. "Anyone able to spare a smoke?" he asks, almost a bit ashamed of it as he closes in on their location.

"Well fine.. so then I'm just blabbing thoughts of mine." Novella's grin can be seen even behind the scarf wrapped around her face. Her eyes squint with it. "But engaging the enemy, eh? Huh. No, I don't think it was about bears. Which is a shame because bear meat isn't bad." Feet kick at the snow some more, sending little showers into the air. "Well I can't hang around you all day. I have fun Baylee Things I need to do." She rehefts the carbine and looks to Rycard as he approaches. "Not me.. But something tells me this other guy has one." She gives an all-too-obvious leer at Micah and his cigarette.

Micah holds up a hand when fun Baylee things are mentioned, in an 'I do not want to know' gesture. Kicking his feet out in front of him, he plants one heel in the snow and crosses the other foot atop it. The cold's causing him to shiver a little, but with the raptor still venting heat, it's not as bad as it could be. "I sure do, but it'll cost you, sir." He shoots Rycard a grin.

"I'll pay, dont worry" Rycard says as he jogs the last few yards on over to the Raptor in question. "How much? Should I go down on my knees now or later?" he grins and chuckles.

Novella lifts a heavily padded hand and smacks a heavily padded Micah on the shoulder. "Jerk," she chuckles. "I read and stuff. Personal time." She looks back to Rycard and snickers at his offering. "Geez. I should take up smoking. Get my own personal man-servant."

Micah attempts to dodge the smack, but really doesn't stand much of a chance in his bulky clothing. "Personal time, huh?" he mutters to the woman, "There in't no such thing as personal time, around here." Pushing to his feet then, he rifles around in his flight suit beneath the coat, for the cigarettes. "Here," he calls back to Rycard, tossing him one of them. Of course, if he doesn't catch it, it's going to mean burrowing after it in the snow. "Have yourself a ball."

Managing to cradle the smoke to his chest before it tumbles out of his grip, Rycard offers Micah a grin, "Thanks, man." Moving the cigarett to his lips, he glances on over at Novella with a smirk, "Hey… If you're looking for a man-servant, Im your boy" he says and winks. Looking back to Micah, he sticks his hands in his armpits, "You wouldnt happen to have a light, do ya?"

"Micah, private time is probably my most cherished thing next to flying. Down on it all ya want, kiddo, but its what I love." And she even manages to keep an upbeat aire to her. Novella then looks back to Rycard. "Nah. Thanks, though. Too much commitment for me right now. Besides, I don't have time to walk, train and take my pet man-servants to the vets for shots. We all know how long that can take."

The lighter is sailing through the air toward Rycard almost before the words are out of his mouth, and Micah jabs a finger in the other pilot's direction once it's (hopefully) caught. "I want that back." It's a pretty silver thing, etched with someone's name on the side: Marinesha. "What're you readin' lately, Cav?" he offers in a more conversational tone, plunking back down beside his wingman.

Rycard fumbles with the lighter and almost drops the cigarett from his lips in the process. "Gods frakkin…" but eventually manages to sort out the troublesome situation, lights the cigarett and hands Micah the lighter back. "Thanks… Awesome." He sits down against the Raptor and takes a moment to enjoy the addictive fumes in his lungs. "Maaaan… Made my day" he says. Then, he tosses Novella a glance, as well as a charming boyish smile, "Well, you know, as long as I get a treat every now and then, my behavior will be top notch. Honestly" he chuckles.

"Nothing too exciting. More stuff on the Fighting Wing. Section stuff. Things you and I put into practice. It was a book my Dad sent to me not long after I came out here… Well.. Got my assignment to the Genesis. Only started reading it like a month ago." She shrugs, warming herself on the Raptor. Its only barely warmer than the air around them. Her eyes lift to Rycard at his offer and she shakes her head. "Sorry. Although Taylor owes me a few favors.." The six-foot, 230lbs Deck Chief now on the Pandora. "..He might be willing to train and deal in treats."

"Your dad military, too?" Micah asks, keeping his head down and his voice low like he's almost afraid of being considered civil. His cigarette is brought to his lips for a slow drag, smoke exhaled politely away from the other two pilots. With a grin and a look askance to Rycard he adds, "Looks like you've got an admirer, Cav. You should give 'im a chance."

Rycard inhales through his cigarett and exhales a large puff of smoke as he removes the roll of tobacco from his lips, a grin on his face. "Well, can you blame me?" he asks Micah and then looks on over at Novella, "Girl, you certainly are a heartbraker, arent you. Is it even worth my time trying to impress you in the future?" The cigarett it returned to his lips, though the boying smile never fades.

"Shit, Micah, I figured you knew: Dad. Both brothers. Granddad. Dad and Paps were both CAG's. Paps won his share of medals in the first war." And after skipping a generation, the granddaughter is working on the same thing. But the remarks of the two men get a shake of her head and downturned eyes. Thankfully scarves hide certain things. "Trust me when I tell you I'm damaged goods. I'm not worth the time." It might be a body gesture some men might find 'cute', but her voice holds some meaning behind the words.

Micah's lips twist in something slightly rueful. "Sounds like my frakking family. Guess we're cut from the same cloth." He ashes his cigarette again, and glances toward Rycard when the man addresses him. "Frak, I don't know. She's like my sister." It's probably much more of a compliment than it might seem; he even lays off the subject after Novella speaks, and reclines back so that he's lying on the ramp beside her. Mumbled, "Think we're all damaged goods right now. If you ask me."

Hazzard has arrived.

Rycard exhales some smoke, flicks some glowing ash from the end of the cigarett and looks at the snow by his feet. "Yeah" he says. "Pretty frakked" he nods. But he then looks on over at Novella again, the smile slowly returning, "You know… Sooner or later, any wound will begin to heal. And if it doesnt… There's usually someone who can patch you up. The chapel works for me, but then again, Im Gemenese, so go figure, huh" he chuckles and then returns the smoke to his lips.

"Yeah, probably, Micah. When Alister chewed me out a few weeks back, even said some mean shit about my family. Godsdamned near hit him for it." She sighs, her eyes looking at him sidelong from behind her scarf. But they fall once more and the woman nods, adjusting the sling on the carbine. "Aye. True words, wingman." She then lifts her gaze a touch to look up at Rycard past the hood of her suit. "Sooner or later. Likely mine won't anytime soon. I guess people find solace however they can. I've never been good at dealing with certain things, so I just try not to think about it." Or even talk about 'it' apparently.

With the rifle resting over his back, one of the Snipers makes their way out of the bunker. The scent of freshly made coffee comes with him as he takes a moment to survery the area before him as he sips on a cup of coffee.

"Not all of'em," muses the surly viper jock, shifting briefly into a seated position with his hand on his sidearm, when he hears the sound of something approaching. Thankfully, it's only a Marine, whom he nods to before settling back again. "Hear, hear," he concurs quietly with Novella.

Rycard, sitting on the wing of one of the Raptors, smoking a cigarett, warms his hands in the armpits. "Yeah… Some people do deserve a row of knuckles across the nose, dont they?"

Hazzard studies the pilots having a chat out in the cold, as he sips on his coffee once again and crouches down to lean against the nearby wall. The Sniper keeps his silence, after all that is usally how they do it.

Novella looks to Micah and nods a few times. She pats his knee reassuringly. Like any section lead, she cares about her wingman. But she looks back to Rycard. "Some, yeah. But he had a point behind what he was saying. I overstepped myself and he shut me down. It wasn't as deserved as harsh as it was delivered, but it stuck." The blond shrugs lightly. Her gaze drifts and she spots Hazzard but just keeps looking around.

Micah flinches away, ever so slightly from the knee-pat. It seems a reflexive thing, more than any kind of bother with Novella herself. "Don' you worry, Cav can handle herself. She doesn't need any sympathy, much as Slip's an arrogant frakhead of a teacher's pet." Smirking, he exhales smoke straight up.

Rycard grins and takes the cigarett in his fingers, "Oh, I can believe that" he says to Micah. "What was it about, anyway?" he asks Novella, "The thing that earned you the chewing off?"

Hazzard brings his coffee cup up to his lips once again, as he simply listens to what is said while he tries to gauge the situation.

"Heh. So say we both, Micah." Novella's eyes squint with the grin. Her scarf moves as she speaks, little puffs of hot air condensing in front of her face like cigarette smoke. She looks back to Rycard after the question, a soft chuckle leaving her. "We went out on a mock dogfight. Slip had command of our section, but he gave me Pursuit Lead. So I started throwing him orders when he wasn't giving any. Turns out what I did helped win us the engagement, but I jumped way over the line. He took me down for it." She pauses. "To be honest, I probably would have also chewed me out."

Desusa has arrived.

"Bet your frakkin' knickers you deserved it," Micah tosses back, barking a laugh. "But I'd have done the same thing as you, ass chewing or not." Like THAT's any surprise. His eyes close as he takes a longer drag of the remnants of his cigarette, one leg cocking up at the knee so he can get more 'comfortable'. He's reclining on the ramp of the raptor next to Novella, with Rycard perched on a wing nearby. Hazzard is crouched by the bunker.

"I dont know" Rycard says. "Might be a reason why the wing commander isnt giving orders, you know… If you start giving orders you might mess up his gameplan or something. Well, thats my take on it in any case. Though I wanst out there with you, so go figure, ey."

Desusa walks out from the bunker and adjusts his cold-gear a bit. Damn it's cold! He plucks a cigar into his mouth and lights it up, as he looks at the pilot and marine group nearby. "Men," he greets as he puffs away.

Novella makes a gesture towards Micah as if to say to Rycard 'See?'. She laughs lightly, her soft voice falling muted against the snow. "We was righteously mad. Made him look bad in front of the CAG, too. But yeah, exactly. I don't know why Slip wasn't saying anything, but I did. But we kept Micah, here, alive a bit longer." She gives the other Viper stick a quick glance. "Still pissed we lost you. Sorry about that, Ensign. Won't happen again." As Desusa arrives, the blond adjusts the carbine in her gloved hands and nods to the Major. "Sir."

Hazzard remains crouched some distance off from the pilots, savouring his cup of Bastard Field Grind. His trusted rifle resting over his back, as the snow slowly gathers upon his ghilie suit. As Zeus arrives, Hazzard rises up and nods his head over towards Desusa. "Zeus."

Micah unfurls from his reclined position against the Raptor's ramp, touching his sidearm again when Desusa steps out of the bunker. Once he's verified who it is, the man receives a short salute and an echo of 'Sir'. To Novella, he snorts softly. "Nothin' to be sorry about. I did what I could, with both of 'em on my tail, an' so did you."

Desusa takes the cigar out briefly, and says, "As you where." He takes a look around the area with a slight frown and sighs, "Gods, this weather is terrible."

"Makes you wish you were back on the Pandora, doesnt it, sir" Rycard says with a smile at Desusa, with the smoke held between his fingers, arm and hand lazily leaning against his thigh.

The salute, causes Hazzard to snap his attention over towards Micah. A little shake of his head, before the Sniper offers his half empty cup of coffee over towards Desusa. "Coffee?"

Skip has arrived.

"So forgiving.. What a quality." Novella grins once more behind that scarf and taps him i nthe shoulder again. Yep, she likes to hit Micah. But she turns back to Desusa and shakes her head. "No way, sir. Its snow! Snow its the Gods way of telling us that they love us and wants us to be happy. Like liquor. Snow gives us a reason to stay home, drink liqour, and then go play in the snow." Miss Ball of Sunshine. Preen!

"Nothing beats a temperate room of an assaultstar, Ensign Rycard." Yes, Raul knows who that pilot is. Fear! A brow is raised at Novella, as he wondering what sort of drug can make one so cheerful. He just shakes his head an smirks a bit, taking the cup offered by Haz, "Fill 'er up, Corporal."

Rycard chuckles a bit at Novella. "My gran'daddie used to say that liquor was the curse of the land. Cos it makes you shoot at your XO and it also makes you miss…. Aaaah, good old gran'dad, what a character. Lost his leg and one eye in the first cylon war. Told me once what O.K means by the way. Crazy old man. But one mean shot, lemme tell'ya."

Well the half full cup offered seems to be all Hazzard has for the moment, but leaves it in Major Desusa's capable hands. "Nice to see the manage to stay cheerful.." he murmurs softly as he studies the Pilots. "Considering all." he then looks back towards Desusa. "Seems Ramiro managed to bring a refuge back."

"Sir, are you going to tell me you never used snow as an excuse to stay home with some lucky lady? Drink and play all day?" She's probably not referring to 'play' in the snow this time. To Rycard, she snerks. "Please. If you need to shoot at your XO, you have bigger problems than liquor will help. Somehow I think he was also well aware of that." She kicks her feet under her, toeing at the snow. That little smile can just barely be seen outlined under her scarf.

Desusa looks back to Nov and can't fight the need to smile. "I don't know, Ensign, I think the last time I was in snow this deep, I was in the company of a good book." He takes a gentle sip from the coffee and nods to Haz, "Yes, lucky break." He seems to believe they won't find much here. He is never one to get his hopes up.

"Saw the Toasters, gun down three survivors trying to escape in the woods." Hazzard murmurs as he stands there by the Major, watching the pilots. He shakes his head ever to slightly, and turns to head back into the bunker. "I'll catch some Z's..I'm not in the best of social moods right now..You'll get your report later on."

"Uh huh. A book. Did this book have a name? And was she a blond, brunette, or redhead?" she teases, winking at the Major. She certainly can't help the grin. But she lets the rest of the discussion go. She either already knows about the civvie or just doesn't let it sit in her mind. She just watches Hazzard walk off. One can probably imagine her making a face at him behind that scarf.

Micah pays no heed whatsoever to Hazzard's departure. He's enjoying his cigarette and it's not too terribly cold, with the Raptor radiating some spare heat. Novella's remark has him grinning a little.

Rycard looks on over at Hazzard for a quick moment, and his mood seems to go down hill. Turning to look at the snow on the ground, he seems to go a bit pale. "Frak me" he says. "Gods."

Skip steps out from the bunker, looking around for a few moments.

Desusa casts his eyes back to Novella, as Hazzard decides to go hit the sack. "Actually, 'she' was fat as a pig, Ensign." He walks closer to their spot and takes the last drag of coffee, putting his cigar back in his mouth and looking over to Rycard. "I don't think you're they're type, Rycard."

Hazzard has left.

"That's okay, sir. Piggy ones need love, too." She seems determined not to let Hazzard ruin her mood. Again. And again. "Is that what ya'll needed an extraction from?" Novella asks, looking to the Major, then to Micah. "Wouldn't mind getting dirty helpin' some folks." She looks past Desusa to spot Skip.

Rycard looks up at Desusa, and it takes a moment before he actually smiles, if only a faint one. "Since when arent Gemenese folk the Gods type, ey?" he chuckles. "But civvies getting shot… shit."

Desusa smokes away, as he listens to Rycard and Novella. He pats Rycard on the shoulder a few times and says, "Don't torment yourself with that, Ensign." He looks up to the wintery sky and puffs merrily.

Micah doesn't comment on the news of civilians being shot. Not a word. He licks his lips slowly and takes one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it into the snow to sputter and die.

Seeing as how the conversation won't turn from the civvies, Novella sighs. "Quite a few billion people reached six thousand degrees in one day. Some even hit ten million. Personally, I'd rather take a bullet than burn to death. But Hazzard seems to think its a frakkin' crisis because he saw these happen. So it means more. Or something." The Ensign shakes her head. "I'm just glad the Marines could save one. Shit. One survivor is one more than we had before."

Skip steps further out into the weather, looking rather relaxed for the moment as he looks around a bit thoughtfully. Stepping a bit over in the direction of the other people.

Desusa glances to Skip and nods in greeting. Busy smoking, it seems. To Novella's comments, he just hitches a shoulder.

"I dont know" Rycard says and looks on over at Novella. "Thats pretty cold isnt it? I mean… Like it doesnt matter? That's frakking cold."

"It's pragmatic," grunts Micah, head lowering now as he wraps his arms around himself to ward off the chill. That Raptor's feeling less and less welcoming by the minute, and he doesn't have a cigarette to lend a bit of heat any more. Mismatched eyes shift sidelong toward Novella for a moment, then down again.

"Maybe, maybe not. Think about all those people out there dying from radiation poisoning. The Cylons could help them, but I'm guessing they aren't giving medical care." She chucks a thumb to Micah and nods. "Exactly." She looks to Rycard. "So whats more tragic? Our race being exterminated by nuclear weapons - which we could see from the Viper pits on Warday - or three people dying while trying to flee oppression to die how they choose. One final grasp of liberty. Nobody gave that option to my family, Micah's family, your family, or anyone else's. We are all tragically frakked in equal parts."

Skip offers a nod back to Desusa, before he shrugs a little, "I just hope they died right away from those shots," he offers quietly to the conversation.

"No armour or cover. They surely did," says Desusa as he continues his smoking looking skywards.

Rycard scratches his neck, the cigarett hanging limp from his lips. "I've heard you can survive for hours if you get shot in the gut" he then says and looks around at the others. "I mean, hours of pain. And infections, and bugs eating at ya, and every time you cough, the wound just hurts more. I mean, hours of pure real life Hades, I have heard." He shakes his head, "One of the reasons I became a pilot to be honest."

"You're obviously a rook," is all Micah seems to have to say on that count, squinting an odd look at Rycard before ducking his head again. Maybe Novella sees him roll his eyes, maybe not. He's subsequently digging in his coat for another cigarette.

Novella looks towards Skip, face hidden behind her scarf. But her eyes are hardening. "I'd pray for that." But she looks back at Rycard. "Heard the same things. It also takes more to live. To endure the shit. What we are doing right now. This race might be gutshot, Ensign, but frak if we're unarmed and fading off to a whimper." Her voice nears its match to her eyes. Her true thoughts on the matter slowly finding their way out. "I don't know about you all, but I'm not going to frak around and get huffy because someone else is in a good mood and I made something personal." She stops. "FRAK! He frakking did it again!" She rises off the Raptor and shakes her head, flailing her arms a touch and heading off towards the bunker.

Desusa is a silent listener to the pilot's offerings about the civilian situation here. War messes with people's heads in very different ways. His eyes close as he puffs away to the snow falling, as Nov pushes off towards the bunker. No hint of anything on his facial features.

"Would depend on the shot, sir," Skip replies, before he nods to the others, before he shrugs at Novella's words, "Good thing, not doing that. But some people isn't like that, I guess."

Micah looks for a moment, just a moment, like he might make a grab for Novella's arm when she moves to depart. But he seems to decide against it after a moment, and merely chews his lip as if to keep from blurting something out at her. Flick, flick, flick. Success. He lights up another cigarette and hunkers forward to watch the monochrome landscape laid out before them.

"You know…" Rycard says and removes the smoke from his lips. "We came here looking for survivors, right? And we found some… Doesnt it matter then, that the people we came looking for… got killed right infront of us? People we could have saved possibly… Doesnt that mean something? We came here to rescue people, and when they got shot… doesnt that mean we failed in a way?" He looks around as if trying to find hope in the others.

Novella has left.

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