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Post by Col. Charybdis on Dec 12, 2005 11:00:16 GMT -6
"Actually, yes. At least my temporary quarters are down the hallway. This mess with Elmer's suicide is still dragging on and they haven't let me in to my own quarters yet," I replied.
She seemed lost in thought for a moment. "I liked your quarters. We spent a lot of time there, didn't we?" she smiled. "Well, I'm sure they'll clear things up and you can get back there in no time." She put the final things away in their places. "Well, I'm unpacked. That didn't take long, did it?"
I laughed a bit. "It is amazing how little we truly own, isn't it? Are you hungry? We could go to the officer's mess and get a bite to eat?"
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Post by Astraea on Dec 12, 2005 12:05:04 GMT -6
Astraea thought about the contents of her pockets; a pass key, a note from Charybdis and a rock. All of them were things that someone else would toss into the recycling, but all were precious to her in their own ways. How little we own indeed! “I could do with a bite,” she returned, “but first I want to set up a sim session.”
He gave her half a smile. She was nothing if not determined, the trait that more than likely kept her alive over five yahrens of captivity. “I can take care of that from here.” He walked over to the tiny nook that housed her computers and logged on. He tapped in a few commands and was easily able to pull up the flight schedule. “Okay, next available session is at 1500.” He glanced back at her and she gave him a nod.
“The sooner the better,” she told him.
Charybdis tapped on a few more keys then logged off. “Done.” He straightened and rubbed his hands together as he turned back to her. “Now we get to sample the cold hot soup of the day.”
Her smile broadened. It had been five yahrens since she had shared a meal with him. “Sounds perfect.”
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Post by Col. Charybdis on Dec 12, 2005 12:46:43 GMT -6
The door slid open and she walked through. It was nice to get away from the war and just have lunch...
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Post by Astraea on Dec 13, 2005 11:42:07 GMT -6
Upon entering the Callisto mess hall, Astraea stopped and breathed in deeply. The air was filled with a cacophony of scents which made Astraea’s stomach rumble. “I don’t think that I’ve ever smelled anything so good,” she commented to Charybdis who stared at her curiously.
He sniffed at the air tentatively. He detected the remnants of something burnt, an overwhelming aroma of Borellian toad stew and the mysterious sour smell which was always present in the mess and no one could ever seem to locate. “You’re kidding?”
She blinked her eyes open to see his disbelieving look. “It’s been five yahrens since I’ve smelled cooking of any kind. It’s glorious!” she stated then chuckled when he simply shook his head then started for the line of food carts. Astraea tagged along behind Charybdis, her mouth watering at each of the selections in the food line.
“So what do the Cylons serve for their meals?” he asked curiously as they each made their selections.
Astraea wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even know what to call it. Brown-gray goop.” She shook her head. “It’s not even cooked. It’s some sort of synthesized gunk that’s packed with nutrients. They don’t have a clue what ‘taste’ means and feel that the substance is ‘adequate’ for human consumption. We did get lucky on a few occasions, though.” She gave him a sideways glance and leaned closer to lower her voice. “Generally when Baltar was expected.” She didn’t even notice how many dishes that she was setting onto her tray. She simply grabbed anything appetizing, which was practically everything to her at the moment.
Charybdis felt his stomach tighten at the mention of Baltar. “Did you ever see him?” he asked curiously.
She gave a casual shrug. “A few times,” she returned, “but we always knew when he was there because several of the prisoners would be sent down to the nearest planet to pick indigenous fruit. The workers were allowed to bring back all they could carry and we would get whatever Baltar didn’t want. It was like Harvest Day when we would get actual fruit or vegetables.”
Charybdis frowned at a couple of the cafeteria workers who pointed in their direction while talking amongst themselves. Astraea seemed to be oblivious to the exchange so he glanced around to see if he could find a place for them to sit and get her away from the nosey workers. “Why don’t we sit down over there,” he suggested and Astraea followed along, grabbing a couple of last minute items as she passed.
It wasn’t until they sat down that Charybdis noticed her tray was laden with a variety of food. “Did you get one of everything?” he asked with a chuckle.
Astraea looked at his tray which had a respectable selection of meat, vegetables and a gelatinous desert then at her own stacked with plates and bowls. She gave a sheepish chuckle. “Everything just looked so good.”
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Post by Astraea on Dec 17, 2005 11:28:58 GMT -6
Astraea put up a valiant effort to finish her lunch, but simply couldn’t pack all of the food into her stomach. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her belly. “I think I might have overdone it a bit.”
He gave her a smile as he sipped at his drink. Watching her eat had merely driven home the fact that she had been in captivity. Aside from the mountain of food she tried to consume, she had wrapped her arm around her tray as she hovered over it, a trait that he had seen in prisoners who were afraid their food would be taken away before they could finish. “You’re not going to fit into a Viper if you keep that up.”
“No kidding,” she chuckled. “But, everyone should have victuals when they return from the dead, don’t you think?”
“Most people would have downed a bottle of ambrosa.”
“You got one?” she asked teasingly then laughed when his eyes widened.
Colonel Charybdis to the bridge, a voice over the com announced to the ship. Colonel Charybdis to the bridge.
Charybdis sat down his glass. “Looks like duty calls.”
Astraea gave him half a smile. “I knew it had to end sometime.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “Thanks for everything Charybdis.”
He gave her fingers a squeeze. “My pleasure.” It had been wonderful getting to spend time with Astraea again even if it was doing mundane things like collecting extra uniforms and finding billeting.
Charybdis glanced around the room taking special note of the curious onlookers as they stood. He had noticed several people in the mess taking a particular interest in their table and he wondered if it made Astraea uncomfortable. It seemed as if the entire room was watching as they made their way through the mess hall. “Would you like me to walk you back to your quarters?”
Astraea kept pace with him as they exited and started down the corridor. “Actually, I was thinking of heading to my old office.” She shot him a sideways glance when he shook his head. “Just to tidy up a bit.”
“I should have put cubits on the fact that you’d head there first.”
“What? I’m just going to clean up.”
“Uh huh.”
“Maybe put those disks in order,” she added.
“Yeah, okay.” He knew she would be buried in history scans. “You get so involved in your work that you have to keep an alarm in your office or you’d never get anywhere on time.”
“Charybdis!”
They stopped and turned to face each other when they reached the corridor where they would part ways. “You’re a workaholic and you know it.”
“Oh, hello kettle! I’m the pot.” She held out her hand and he grabbed it as they both began to laugh. They had the same argument more than once many yahrens before. “I’ll see you later?”
He nodded. “You can count on it.”
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Post by Astraea on Dec 22, 2005 14:12:22 GMT -6
Astraea sighed as she glanced around at her office. It felt so good to be standing there that she just took a moment to absorb it all. “Well, I’m not going to get anything done just looking at it,” she said to herself as she slipped out of her jacket. After tossing the jacket onto her desk chair, she picked up the cleaning bucket which she had borrowed from a storage closet near her office.
She started with the walls first. She sprayed them down with a cleaning solution and then wiped. There wasn’t any dust on the Battlestar, but a thin film of oil would coat everything over time if left unchecked. Thankfully, the cleaning solution would cut right through the sediment. It just took a bit of rubbing to get it all off. Before long, she had a pile of dirty rags to dispose of and she was left staring at the stack of computer disks.
“Now what am I going to do with you?” she asked. She had always intended on finding a discarded shelf to store the disks properly, but everything in the fleet was recycled since there were such limited supplies and she hadn’t been lucky enough to come across one.
She glanced at the newly washed walls when a thought occurred to her. “Maybe I can remove one of the panels and find a little nook to store everything.” She rubbed her hands over the gray panels and wondered what was behind each. “I should probably try to find a schematic on this room before I start dismantling it.” She walked over to her desk and keyed up her computer monitor. “I’d hate to uncover a power line or something on accident.”
Astraea frowned when her computer screen rose from the desk and she saw what was on the screen. “That’s one of my old reports,” she muttered to herself before sitting down in the chair to browse through it. Instinctively, she reached for the rock in her pocket. “It’s the day I spent with Charybdis at the ruins.”
I made sure to take several shots with my digital recorder from multiple angles of each of the carvings, she read. Since ancient language isn’t my specialty, I want to make sure that the linguists in the fleet received a clear image of all of the markings. I believe that most of them are simply ornamentation, but I hope that there is some clue as to the identity of the civilization that used to inhabit this planet.
Astraea smiled as she thought back to that day in the ruins. She had captured a shot of Charybdis yawning while he waited for her to finish her research. She would have spent weeks in the ruins if she had the chance, but poor Charybdis was bored after on a few hours.
“You know, you could have sent down a security detail with me,” she had told him. He had volunteered for the assignment when he should have been taking leave.
Charybdis held his arms wide. “What? And miss all this excitement?”
Astraea chuckled at the memory. She liked the way that Charybdis worried over her and always tried to support her with her work even though it bored him to death. He simply couldn’t understand why she was so fascinated with ancient history when there was still so much living to do.
It took a moment for a rhythmic beep to register with Astraea. The sound had been so familiar that she practically ignored it until she recognized that it was her alarm. She glanced down at the clock on her monitor and realized that she was about to be late. “Oh frack! The sim session!”
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Post by Astraea on Dec 25, 2005 2:21:30 GMT -6
Astraea picked up the clipboard to sign in for her simulator session as she had hundreds of times before, then froze halfway through. It was the first time in five yahrens that she would be back in the sim, but it seemed like only yesterday.
She shook her head to clear it and finished inputting her information. “I’ve got to stop doing that,” she chastised herself. “I’m going to end up a puddle of goo if I keep walking down memory lane.” Pausing to recognize every moment of her life being restored was becoming too much of a habit and making her far too emotional.
When she stepped over to the control personnel, she noticed that they were giving her an odd look. It took only a moment to realize that they had overheard her speaking to herself. Gotta stop doing that too, she thought. Acting crazy had been an advantage on the basestar, but she would have to unlearn those habits now that she was home. “I’m scheduled for a session,” she told the man she handed the clipboard to.
The flight sergeant frowned when he saw her name. “Lieutenant Astra?”
“AstraEA,” she corrected him then locked eyes with the sergeant at the controls who suddenly stiffened at the mention of her name.
“I don’t recall seeing your name on the sim list before,” the flight sergeant remarked while he quickly flipped through filled pages on the clipboard. “Are you new on the Callisto?”
Astraea glanced back at the man at the controls just as he leaned over to his counterpart to whisper in his ear. “In some ways,” she responded elusively, shifting nervously when she caught the hushed tones of the controller…I’m telling you that’s her! Astraea straightened and gave the flight sergeant a more determined look. “I was actually stationed here a few yahrens ago. It feels good to be back.”
“Alright Lieutenant.” He signed off on her appointment. “Two rules always apply on any sim flight. One, you break my capsule and the commander will have your astrum, not mine.”
“Got it,” Astraea returned trying to ignore the adamant conversation growing in the corner. “And the second?”
“You blow chunks in my machine, you’re cleaning it up.”
She gave him half a smile. “Not a problem Sergeant. I’ve got a cast iron stomach.”
The man at the controls finally addressed Astraea. “Did the Cylons give you that too?” He chuckled at her cold glare. When he heard the rumors of the Cylon captive returning to the Callisto, he never dreamed that she would walk into the sim. “Hey, did you ask them if they could install that sliding red light in your eyes?”
“Knock it off Cronig,” the man next to the controller ordered with a punch to the shoulder.
“Is there a problem gentlemen?” the flight sergeant asked.
“Nothing that a well-placed laser blast can’t fix,” Cronig replied.
Astraea’s back was ramrod straight when the flight sergeant turned to her with a genuine look of confusion on his face. “Thank you, Sergeant,” she said crisply then left to enter the simulator. She could hear the initial conversation as she walked down the long flight of stairs. The flight sergeant was berating Cronig for his disrespect of an officer, but then the controller started filling him in on the rumors that he had heard.
“And so it begins,” Astraea whispered to herself.
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Post by Astraea on Dec 29, 2005 0:20:56 GMT -6
Astraea bounced in her seat as the training capsule simulated a crash landing in the Beta Bay. “Frack!” she swore when her head slammed against the side view screen. The men in the control room were having a grand time putting Astraea through some of the worst situations manageable for the sim. She had been blown up repeatedly by Cylon Raiders, sent into a tailspin during combat and pummeled with asteroids until her entire body ached.
“You still have another ten microns of sim time,” Cronig informed her with an amused tone over the com. “Or have you had enough, Lieutenant.”
Astraea slammed her fist into the mock canopy. She barely registered the man’s contemptuous tone or the snide way he used her rank. She was frustrated by her poor performance even under the worst circumstances. She had gone through most of the sims before and had scored better as a cadet. “Load up another program, deck rat,” she ordered.
She closed her eyes as the capsule realigned itself to prepare for simulated launch. “Stop over-thinking your movements,” she told herself. “Light touch. It doesn’t take strength to fly a Viper.” She was thrust back at the launch then the Viper appeared to drift slightly as she entered space. “A Viper can dance if you just let her.”
Astraea recognized the computer program the moment it started. It was the rendition of the destruction of the fleet in the colonies. The programmers designed it not only for pilots to learn how to fight against overwhelming odd, but to provoke an emotional response.
She could still hear Colonel Starbuck’s words as he guest lectured at the training academy. “A pilot is only as good as his resourcefulness under extraordinary circumstances.” Those words rang true for Astraea in many aspects of her life. She had a great deal of respect for the Colonel. He had been one of the few Viper pilots who had survived the holocaust, one of the few who actually lived through what the computer could only mimic.
Astraea began firing, then diving in and out of daggit fights. The Viper to her left, then her right exploded in balls of flame and she had to squint against the brilliance. She spun through the growing wreckage than dove to narrowly escape colliding with a Raider. “Not this time,” she whispered and moved the thruster control so hard to the right that she was slammed against the walls of the capsule.
She wove in and out of the battle using other ships and debris as her shield. No one was intended to survive the simulation. It was a test to see how well a pilot could maintain focus while all Hades broke loose. Astraea actually began to sweat as she bounced around the cockpit. Keeping the Viper at full throttle was the only way to out-maneuver the onslaught and the simulated g-forces were pushing her to her limits.
When the simulation finally ended with her demise in a rear assault, she was breathing heavily. The muscles in her arms and legs were twitching from the unusual activity, but she looked down at the sim scores with a satisfied smile. She had surpassed her best time by a full 25 microns. It was still far from a fleet record, but she was content with the result. “One step at a time.”
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Post by Astraea on Dec 30, 2005 16:17:58 GMT -6
Astraea was already beginning to feel the aches from her time in the sim so she decided to stop in for a turbowash before doing anything else. The pilot’s changing area wasn’t exactly private, but the showers were generally hot and that was what she needed at the moment. There were a few pilots in the room, most of which barely gave her a passing glance as she walked to the back to find an empty locker.
She grabbed a towel then absentmindedly undressed and stowed her gear before heading for a turbowash. She made a mental list of things she needed to do while she luxuriated under the hot water. At the top of her list was a visit to the IFB. Getting a copy of previous reports was precisely what she needed to get back to work on her history scans. She was anxious to get started, not only because of her love of the work, but because she was curious as to what had happened over the past five yahrens.
The incident with Pierce and Major Brie on the Agro Ship came to mind as her eyes blinked open under the stream of water. Astraea still didn’t know any of the details, but she had heard that Major Brie was in the Callisto Life Station and in charge of Gold Squadron once again.
Astraea stared at the gray walls. She would have to stop in to see the Gold Squadron leader in the morning for any orders. Major Brie. The last time Astraea had seen her was when she was Captain Brie and had ordered her on that fateful mission which landed her in Cylon hands. Astraea tried to sort through her feelings for Brie. Yahrens ago, she would have liked to pummel her, but over time she realized how ridiculous that would be. Brie had been following orders and actually doing Astraea a favor by assigning her to the derelict ship. How could she have known that it was a Cylon trap?
Astraea shut off the water and reached for a towel as she thought about the possibility of going to see the second in command of Gold Squadron instead. She was torn about facing Brie again. What would she say? Thanks for sending me on a five yahren mission to Hades?
Astraea shook her head as she padded back to her locker. She knew that she had to go see Brie regardless of whether she was in sickbay or not, but she didn’t have to go until morning. That was one appointment she wasn’t anxious to keep. It wasn’t only facing Brie, but she expected to get the crap assignments for a long time to come. No one could trust her after being with the Cylons for so long and she couldn’t blame them. There were times when she didn’t even trust herself.
She sighed heavily when she stopped in front of her locker. While she was in the turbowash, someone had written the word “Cylon” on her locker. She glanced up and down the short line of storage units, but no one was around. She dried off and dressed quickly. She didn’t bother pulling a comb through her hair. Instead, she removed a pen from her supplies and added her own word to the locker. She underlined her addition, then nodded in satisfaction at the graffiti which now read: “Cylon Killer”
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Post by Astraea on Jan 3, 2006 3:38:54 GMT -6
Astraea entered the sub-station of the IFB onboard the Callisto and glanced around. The room was nearly as large as the med-lab and filled with just as much equipment. Astraea spotted a weary woman multitasking at her desk near the front entrance. She spoke into a headset while she held up a piece of paper with one hand and typed in a series of commands on her computer with the other.
“They set it for six,” she said to the anonymous person on the line. “I’m sending the file codes now.” She sighed heavily and dropped the paper back onto her desk. “Look, I’m not the one who set the meeting. If you want to complain, call the main office.” She clicked off the line and looked up at Astraea with exasperation. “Can I help you?”
Astraea glanced around to see if any of the other people were available, but everyone seemed just as busy. “Did I come at a bad time?”
“It’s always a bad time sweetheart. What can I do for you?”
She hesitated for a moment, but had no other choice if she wanted to begin work on the history scans. “I was hoping to get copies of old IFB reports.”
The woman turned back to her computer screen and gestured to a door at the far side of the room. “Archives is through there,” she informed her as she returned to typing.
“Thanks.” Astraea skirted the desk and walked toward the door. She nearly made it to the Archives when she collided with a woman carrying a stack of data disks. “I’m so sorry!” Astraea said when the disks went crashing to the floor. She quickly stooped to help the woman collect them all.
The woman groaned before dropping to her knees. “It’s all right. It’s just the way this day has been going.” The woman looked at Astraea curiously. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
Astraea glanced up at her then back down at the scattered disks. “I don’t think so. I have a pretty good memory for faces. But, you’ll probably be seeing me quite a bit in the near future. I’ve got a backlog of history scans to complete.”
“History scans,” she repeated as she stacked up the last of the disks and stood. “I thought that Lema was doing the history logs on the Callisto. Has she moved on?”
Astraea’s stomach flipped over. She hadn’t known if there had been anyone to replace her as the official historian, but she finally had her answer. “Not as far as I know,” she returned evasively. “Sorry about the accident.” She gave the woman a cheery smile. “I hope that the rest of your day goes better.”
With that, Astraea made a bee-line for door. She keyed the panel to open then stepped inside to take a deep breath. She had been replaced. It’s not that she wasn’t expecting it, but it was still a shock to know that her position as historian had been filled.
“Can I help you?” the solitary man at the top of a tall pedestal asked.
The Archives room was much different from the outer office. The room was small, but filled to the brim with data disks. Shelves attached to the floor and ceiling created narrow walls separated by just enough space to allow a person to walk through.
“I hope so,” Astraea returned as she stepped up to the tall desk. She wondered for a moment why the desk was so high, but then realized that the space beneath it had also been utilized for disk storage. “I’m…working on a history project and need to get copies of IFB reports dating back five yahrens ago.”
The man gave a snort. “That’s not much of a history,” he stated, then his eyes narrowed as he studied her. “You looking for something in particular?”
“No sir,” she replied honestly. She had decided on impulse not to divulge that she was hoping to resume her position as Callisto historian. She had no idea if this man had any attachments to Lema and she didn’t want to create a confrontation when she desperately needed those disks. Even if there wasn’t a position available, history was her passion. “I just need the IFB broadcasts for the last five yahrens, not special programming or anything like that.”
“Just?” he spat out with half a laugh. “Do you have any idea how many disks you are talking about?”
Astraea didn’t have any idea, but she gave a slight nod. “It’s a major project I’m undertaking. I’ll know better once I get started just what segments I need to watch. That will speed things up a bit.”
“History’s not intended to be sped through,” he reproved her. “It’s meant to be lived and then learned from.”
She gave him a genuine smile and decided in an instant that she liked this abrupt man. “I couldn’t have put it better myself sir.”
He gave out a grunt as he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a clipboard. “Here,” he said handing it to her. “Fill this out.” He gave Astraea the once-over as he came down the short ladder from his perch. “I’ll start you off with the first ten. When you bring those back, I’ll give you the next set.” He walked over to one of the walls of disks and pulled down a stack then went over to a copier. “Make sure you bring these back,” he ordered over his shoulder. “These disks can be erased and used again and we only have a limited number onboard.”
“Not a problem,” she said while jotting down the location of her quarters on the Callisto. “As soon as I’m finished, I’ll be back in.”
He gave half a chuckle as he put the newly burned disks into protective sleeves. Five yahrens of IFB reports would take a dedicated viewer months to go through and he wondered if she would have the stamina to finish. “These are only the reports broadcast from the Callisto,” he informed her. “If you want the complete fleet records, you will have to go to the IFB ship.”
She signed her name with a flourish then looked up at him as he crossed the small room with two stacks of disks. “I understand sir and I appreciate your help.”
“The name’s Harron,” he said as he handed her one of the stacks of disks. “I’d suggest that you go back through the Callisto historian’s reports, but I wouldn’t waste my time. I think that the person they have in there now should be writing for General Sickbay instead of doing history scans.”
Astraea was a little stunned by the admission. She hadn’t had the chance to view any recent logs and she was curious as to what her replacement had been able to accomplish. “That bad?”
He let out a burst of air. “I’m a history buff and, let me tell you, I haven’t seen such watered down felgercarb in all my life. Why they got rid of the last historian is beyond me.” He took the clipboard from her and glanced at it to make sure it was complete. “She knew exactly how to…” His voice trailed off and he squinted at her name. “Lieutenant Astraea,” he said with a note of surprise and looked back up at her. “The Lieutenant Astraea?”
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