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Day 04 [0745 hrs.] Welcome to Valhalla

CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO Flightdeck - Spot 04 | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

An early day for Victor. He'd been brought in at 0600 and was busily bringing a AC-409 Valkyrie out of storage. It had been a lengthy process and would continue to be one for quite some time, and this was a job that always took a whole day. Victor was hoping that the pilot would show up soon to get fitted. Fitting and saving biometric settings always took a few hours. Right now, Victor was sitting in the cockpit confirming that he had set all of the craft's systems safely in GROUND TEST Mode. Victor went through the length checklist calling off every primary, secondary, and tertiary system, calling off if the system was installed and safe or unsafe. The procedure was a lengthy checklist for safety purposes. And for added safety, the fighter was on 'jacks' and blocks to prevent it from actually going anywhere.

Time flew when you were having fun, it seemed, and by flying, it drug on endlessly with the mind-numbing safety checks and procedures. By the time an hour and forty-five minutes had elapsed, Victor needed a break. While the tasks weren't physically or even mentally demanding, what drained people doing this was simply sheer drudgery, but safety only gave you one chance to screw it up. So after barely two hours, Victor needed that break.

The tall half Bajoran grabbed the ladder and pulled himself out of the cockpit of the Valkyrie only to see a sable-haired Ensign standing nearby, the diminutive woman's muscular build stood out to him, especially with the way she was gawking and generally appeared stunned by the Fighter bay. A mischievous grin comes to his face then, and the yellow coverall-clad man walks towards her, giving a cheerful wink with the left side of his face, the scarred side.

His old and new battle wounds layered atop each other in a ghastly visage, but through it all, he seemed cheerful and more than a little amused. Victor didn't know every pilot well, not anymore, so many faces had changed, but this woman looked to be brand new. So he would be friendly and extend his cybernetic hand to Talia, keeping the grin on his twisted features.

"Welcome to Valhalla wolf, I would suppose that this will be your sword and shield tor ide into glorious battle answering the call of the Einherjar?"

Yep, Victor was an odd one, and while he'd been in stasis nearly as long as Talia, he'd been like this before. Some of the deckhands nearby would recognize his odd sense of humor and just shake their heads at him. Tipping his head back to the Valkyrie, he winks then.

"Chief vanVinter, but you can call me Victor or just 'chief' if you'd like. I'm easy like that. Anyway, if this is to be yours, hop on in, and we'll get you fitted and run through the ground test list."

Victor's voice was cheerful and exuberant, the man seeming to be plenty gregarious and easy to work with. Overall, Victor was the kind of chief you wanted in this environment. He was experienced, careful, and friendly enough to make people of all ranks feel valued while still being driven enough by his duty to get the job done. While He'd never worked with Talia before, with Victor's extensive career, she might have worked with someone that had served with him before.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #1 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Fighter Assault Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

She didn’t know how to feel, as she stood just inside the entrance —where it all happened.

The entire morning it had been in the back of her mind; like a splinter, a painful irritant swept aside in order to concentrate on things that mattered: the gym, her workout, Nara. Now those distractions were gone, and the thorn in her mind held her transfixed when she should be moving. She had things to do – duties to fulfill.

And yet.

This is where I died, the realization pinned her in place, eyes wide as she took it all in; the fighters in their births, the maintenance crews as they went about their duties, the aft launch doors, sealed against the cold void beyond. Half-remembered shades flitted in her mind then; bodies strewn across the deck, as phantom fires raged. The pulsing crimson of alarms, of her own blood. The tightness in her throat where her neck had...

Talia forced herself to blink the images and feelings away as she balled her hands into fists, fingernails digging into her skin. Enough, she growled to herself as she breathed deeply. This was her arena, like the gym – fear had no place here.

She took her first steps in after squaring her shoulders, tossing the thick rope of tightly braided hair over her shoulder. She had no idea, in that moment, how she resembled the highly prized horses of her homeland – poised, confidant, graceful. She wore her mask of calm well, dark eyes narrowed as she searched the bay. Once she found the object of her desire, she marched towards it without hesitation.

It sat in a corner of the bay, waiting for her on safety jacks, utterly immobile. She could practically hear the machine’s soul crying out to her; enraged at the indignity of its current state. Here was a weapon; a warrior – brought low, unused. Tame me and we shall ride the stars to victory, it promised, fail, and die again, in fire or the cold embrace of the void.

She approached under the port wing, reaching up to trace her fingers along the hull. The metal was cool under her touch; she moved under the cockpit, past the deflector array, around to the starboard fuselage. The Valkyrie was bereft of weapons, idling under minimal power, yet she could feel the barest hum within. She stood for a moment, taking in every scratch, every elegantly designed curve, every scorch mark awaiting repair.

I will master you as I’ve mastered myself, she promised it, or die trying.

Movement caught her eye from the cockpit then, and she watched a figure in wrinkled yellow coveralls slide down the ladder to the deck. She watched impassively as he turned, revealing a terribly scarred visage bearing a Bajoran heritage. She never dropped her gaze, even as the man grinned, winking at her as he extended a cybernetic limb in greeting. She gripped his hand without hesitation as he introduced himself.

"Welcome to Valhalla wolf, I would suppose that this will be your sword and shield to ride into glorious battle answering the call of the Einherjar," he spoke with a hint of humor, but she allowed him to continue uninterrupted. "Chief vanVinter, but you can call me Victor or just 'chief' if you'd like. I'm easy like that. Anyway, if this is to be yours, hop on in, and we'll get you fitted and run through the ground test list."

Talia nodded as she released his hand, clasping her own behind her back as she regarded him coolly. “Einherjar—the blood-sworn of Odin All-Father, yes? His chosen elite; those that would charge with him into battle at Ragnarok, if I remember correctly,” she tilted her head as she spoke. Valhalla, the halls of the afterlife where all noble souls fallen in battle feast at Odin’s side, she mused. Her eyes fell upon the squadron iconography painted under the canopy; The Lone Wolves.

She lifted her chin then, dark eyes half-lidded as they regarded his. I wonder if he realizes how dark a good natured joke can turn.

She blinked the thought away as she remembered her manners. “Ensign Talia Al-Ibrahim,” she nodded to Chief VanVinter as she spoke, “or Shadow, if you like.” Her dark eyes roamed the Valkyrie once again. She knew there was much to be done before she could take it out into the stars, and these first critical steps were necessary to that end.

And yet she wanted nothing more than to suit up, and feel her way into this beautiful weapon. Patience, she chided herself. You’re not ready yet.

She took a breath, then returned her dark eyes to the Chief’s scarred face. “This one is assigned to me. I haven’t flown the 409s yet,” she paused, as more than a hint of embarrassment laced her tone, “despite 300 hours in the simulator,” she added under her breath. “But that was before I died and was put on ice,” she deadpanned as she walked by him towards the cockpit. “I’d appreciate any assistance you can offer, if your duties allow.”

As she climbed the ladder into the cockpit, she felt her pulse quicken. Time to get to work.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #2 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO Flightdeck - Spot 04 | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

Victor had a twinkle in his organic eye, realizing that Talia got his joke. The cybernetic eye was shining in an unblinking glare. His twisted sense of humor helped him make it through the day-to-day sometimes. While Victor's religious views weren't as serious as his Father's, and he leaned more towards his Mother's and her devotion to the prophets, Victor was a student of his Father's mythos. As it was, when Victor had shown a picture of himself to his Father after losing his eye, there had been jokes about renaming him, Odin. Victor just smiled pleasantly to Talia, giving the nod in the affirmative.

"Indeed, the blood sworn of Odin. And good to meet you, Shadow. They used to call me Troubleshooter unofficially back when I was helping to test the Valkyries, so I like to think I know my way around them pretty well. Then I got sucked out into orbit and spent the last few months on ice. Lots of new faces around here; hopefully soon, I'll be at your sides." 

Victor gave a wan smile at that, his voice taking on a bit of an edge to it just then. There was a bit of pain there, which Talia would probably recognize. The sort of pain that came from not being there and being unable to help. For a moment, Victor looked away, showing the scarred side of his face to the shorter woman. The scars there were layered, new on top of old. He'd kept the old ones as a reminder only for new ones to be formed over time. And yet still, Victor did one thing that would be shocking to anyone that knew his history, He still cared. That sense of dedication and care came roaring back in an instant as he turned to Talia. And hopefully, soon, his transfer to TACCONN will go through.

"Right, if you've not flown the 409's you'll have been a Veteran of one of the previous models. Please don't tell me you were a Gryphon pilot? The Mark 2's were buggy as hell and full of Gremlins. I'd rather go up in a Peregrine down an engine and with a cracked canopy than a brand new Mark 2."

Again, there was a touch of humor but still seriousness in his tone of voice. Victor wasn't simply running down a model that He didn't like but voicing an opinion formed from years of experience. Victor strolled over with Talia and held a hand out to steady the ladder, his cybernetic one meeting it with a resounding clang!

"Alright, I can show you where everything is, but you'll need to get dressed so that we can calibrate the flight controls and computer systems to your biometrics. The simulators are good, but when we designed those, we made it so that until a pilot had this orientation setting, the simulators would be at a 'standard' level of responsiveness. I didn't do any of that programming, and I just provided feedback on the functionality. Anyway, to get started, Shadow, put your suit on, and we'll sync your suit up with your bird. If you want, I can give you a tour of the Fighter bay if you've not looked around before. But if you want, I'll show you to the locker room and wait outside, and I don't know much about the Exo's. I never got training on wearing them."

Victor winked at that and smiled, mildly bemused at giving the Ensign orders, but with just 300 hours in the simulators, he couldn't help but think of her as a baby even if he was well aware that some of that had to be combat simulations. Victor had been around quite a while, and Victor had been on the Valkyrie 3's since the very beginning as one of the original test pilots. At some point over the years, he'd probably laid hands on every single craft in the bay. And right now, fitting one out for a new pilot made him feel proud and protective.

"Anyway, what should I know about you Shadow? For me, I've been in the fleet since '64, was in Sol for the Borg both times, spent the whole war and beyond on the Thunderchild. I've flown and known how to work on everything from Type 9 Shuttles to the Mark 3's. If you've got a question about how these birds actually handle or work outside of simulators, I'm your man. That said, none of my fighter time is combat time. And I've been aboard the Theurgy since 2377, but asleep the last few months, so just think of me as your shadow if you've got questions Shadow."

Yep, Victor enjoyed his wordplay and subtle jokes. But He was happy to have given the absolute minimum of background for him. and while it may have sounded like bragging. From Victor's humble tone of voice and overall composure, he was a humble man and quite eager to help, but that would most likely be for Talia to determine.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #3 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | FBO Flightdeck - Spot 04 | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

She froze at the ladder’s apex, staring into the molded seat of the cockpit, as her brain decoded the electrical signals from her eardrums: test the Valkyries. That single phrase froze her in her tracks, forced her to reevaluate everything she had seen and heard from vanVinter. Talia narrowed her eyes at him over her shoulder, listening intently as he continued.
   
She heard the bite in his voice; watched him turn away, showing her his scarred flesh as he spoke about his injury and time in stasis. She recognized his pain in a way; they had both lost previous lives and were forced to make up for lost time, or adapt to new ones altogether. She saw the fire rekindle in his eye as he turned back to her; she met that gaze evenly. That is a look of hunger – of wanting something bad enough to bleed for it, she nodded in admiration, but let him continue.

She felt herself tense at his remarks on the 307s - the mk. IIs had been a joy for her to fly - but managed to relax when she realized he was only half serious about shitting on it. However, she took a breath as he paused, considering. The techs were busy debugging wetware for a few weeks...and the damn capacitor redundancies never worked right.

She cocked her head as he continued again, this time asking her to suit up for biometric calibrations. Do what, she was about to ask, but again, he continued – dropping a literal bombshell on everything she thought she knew: the simulator responses were standardized. She’d practically wasted 300 hours of her life, training to adapt and familiarize her body to the nuances of a craft that wouldn’t feel anything like the real thing! As her brain chewed on that lovely dose of unwanted reality, the good Chief – Troubleshooter – Victor fucking vanVinter, concluded.

Talia was blinking very slowly—to keep her eyes from twitching. Calm down; be calm – he’s trying to help. Let him help. Allah, just breathe and be calm and let him help you. Ya ibn el sharmouta,  she cursed as he winked and smiled, then asked about her history, then continued, elaborating on his own. She had cursed his entire linage by the end of it, and any future heirs he might sire. Such was the depth of her native tongue; the curses were extremely descriptive, sexually immoral, utterly vulgar. She muttered for Allah’s forgiveness after venting her wrath – the poor man deserved none of it. My idiot father’s genetic legacy no doubt.

She took a breath and slid back down the ladder to the deck, taking a moment to compose herself before meeting his eyes. She clasped her hands behind her and rotated the tension from her neck as she spoke: “My cruise on the Tyson ended in ‘77, when I was accepted into TACCONN training at Omega. A year later I found myself driving Gryphons aboard the Diamondback. I flew with the Vipers for two years, one combat sortie,” she paused, holding up a single digit. She took another deep breath. Not telling that story here, she swore to herself.

“Now, I’m here, and I’ve just learned that I have a lot more work to do than I thought. So, yes, I would very much like your assistance—please,” she spoke calmly but assertively as she gestured with her hand as a knife-edge in the direction away from the Valkyrie, “if you point me to the suit storage and lockers, we can walk while you talk. I’ve got all kinds of questions. Walk me through these calibrations,” she paused as she fell into step abreast of him, “this procedure never made it to the Diamondback – due to the 409s still under R&D?” Allah, Talia fumed, what the hell else have I missed? I busted my ass to get into the 409 program! I cut my teeth at Omega and-

With a blaring sense of embarrassment, she realized how insanely selfish she had become. The revelation forced her dead in her tracks. She blinked at her newfound companion; a decent man, willing to help where he could. And what do I offer him? Scorn. She fought the urge to scowl, not entirely successfully.

She cocked her head at him then, determined to make amends as her face settled back into a mask of professional calm. “I apologize, Chief—I forget myself. If there is any way I can help you achieve your vision to fly with us, I will,” she huffed as she rested a fist on her hip, unable to meet his eyes suddenly. “I’m...not the best with people,” she admitted, “but I never renege on a debt,” her dark eyes tracked to his intently, with all her sincerity behind them. “I could show you what I know about the exosuit, for example? Might fast-track your training a bit?”

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #4 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO Flightdeck - Spot 04 | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

Victor walked casually alongside the shorter Ensign, keeping an eye on her as he spoke. The experienced NCO knew what to look for when talking to pilots. The slight hints of emotion they tried to hide when they heard things they didn't like. Anger, disappointment, rage than a Non-com could know about their spaceframe than they did. A mischievous little smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and his eyes shone with dark glee.

Yes, let the butthurt flow through you and give in to your anger.

Victor shook his head to Talia when she asked about the calibrations. While he may have harbored a bemusement as getting a pilot riled up, Victor certainly wasn't trying to make an enemy of anyone that he might be flying with. That, and Talia looked like she'd break him in half without a second thought.

 "I honestly couldn't say, the Theurgy is the testbed for the 409's. The plan was to spread it to the rest of the fleet. But here's the thing about it, Shadow, you said you've got 300 flight hours? The target we were looking for was between 300 and 500 hours of training. The way the brass figured it was that if the pilot candidates for the 409's couldn't hack it within that timeframe, there's no use customizing the flight controls and biometrics to the pilot. Also, you're right. They're still very much in the R&D phase, and all of the procedures that go with them. That, and changing the customization settings in these birds is a massive bitch to do, and there's no 'factory reset' button on these. The goal was to have the pilot and bird paired for life. These aren't like the Gryphons, the Mark Ones, or the Peregrines, all interchangeable. They were interchangeable because the pilots had to be of a certain size and weight. Could you have imagined me in the cockpit of a Peregrine? Let me tell you, that shit was cramped. The 409's are designed to have a wider range of pilot sizes which is why I can fit my lanky ass in one well enough for combat training."

Victor paused then, knowing that this was a harsh truth for any pilot to hear. That there were requirements that she might not have even known about to fly one of the Mark 3 Valkyries, the fact that hadn't been given this particular talk was probably a good sign. Not getting it yet meant that she'd made the cut for training on her old ship and on the Theurgy. They needed every pilot they could get. And Talia had good instincts for spotting an R&D procedure when she'd heard one.

"Honestly, Ensign, it'll come naturally to you after we get you fitted into your real armor." Victor smiled and jerked a thumb back towards the fighter bay where the Valkyrie was waiting.

 "For now, though, here's the locker room, and I'm sure you can find your locker. I'll hang around if you need me. I have some things I need to take care of anyway." Victor's tone of voice was light and casual as he went to take care of his own business. While Victor wasn't a pilot yet, this locker room had decent toilets.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #5 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Fighter Bay Locker Room | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

Talia fought the urge to grimace as she walked, knowing the chief was watching her. She'd already let her anger slip enough; it was time to reel it in and act like the officer she had trained so hard to be. That didn't help the fact that she could feel the smug bastard's glee at getting under her skin; it practically cascaded off him in waves of amusement. But she listened to his explanation, and had to agree that it made sense. These fighters were the cutting edge while she flew the mk. IIs, barely out of the design book. What did you expect, she growled to herself. Nothing worthwhile comes easy. She wasn't sure what was worse - that she was disappointed about what this posting meant, as far as her ability to fly, or that she'd lost so much time that there was a real possibility that she might not even cut it.

Allah, just like that, certainty goes out the window. Part of herself was curled into a ball inside, crying its eyes out.

She nodded to Victor and stepped into the locker room as he went his own way. Inside seemed deserted, which didn't surprise her; she'd not meet any of the other pilots yet. Shore leave gets busy, she sucked her teeth at the thought, searching for the locker labeled Wolf-04. Once acquired, she pulled the door open with a sibilant squeal of metal on metal; the space within lit up, revealing nothing but a ripped poster taped to the back wall. She cocked her head at the pornographic image, blinking a few times as her brain processed it. Didn't even know Andorian's could bend that way, she sighed as she closed the door and headed towards the replicator. Going to need some body-gloves, plus whatever passes for this outfit's spirit gear.

She stood idle after accessing what she needed as the body scan pulled her measurements. It was something of a ritual for her, as she usually re-fitted her uniforms at least once a month. Her dietary needs and weight shifted often, depending on how hard she worked particular muscle groups, and Talia refused to wear clothes that didn't fit to her exacting standards. It was all over within a few minutes, and she was the proud owner of three brand new body-gloves, plus a squadron t-shirt, with matching hoodie. She took a moment to inspect the squadron logo stenciled into the fabric, nodding with approval. This will do.

She'd return later with more essentials for storage here; it was time to suit up and get in the saddle. And show Mr. vanVinter a thing or two, she smirked mirthlessly at the idea. Once she returned to her locker, she wasted no time disrobing her standard uniform to don the body-glove. The synth-weave elastic fabric clung to the curves of her body with tenacity, forcing her to pull and tug it into the correct position. Nothing...worse...than fresh...'gloves!

When she finally managed to pull the zipper up from her chest to her throat, she sighed with relief - then went looking for the chief. She wasn't an instructor, but like all military graduates, she remembered how she was instructed. Equipment checks and inspections were always taught in more than one way - usually by classroom and hands-on. Talia was one who could learn both ways easily enough, but if she had to choose, she'd always pick the latter. If she was going to teach vanVinter about the mk. II Exosuit, she was going to do it the best way she knew how: hands-on.

"Let's go chief, get in here so I can demo this thing for you," she yelled out, then covered her mouth in half shock, half embarrassment. Ya kalb, what the fuck did you just say?

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #6 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO Lockers| Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

Victor was quietly amused at the glimpses and sounds of Talia struggling with the underlayer for the exosuit. He'd tried donning one once, and it hadn't gone well, so the man had some sympathy for the pilot. The lanky man stepped out of the stall Victor had been using and cleaned his hands in the nearest sink just in time to hear Talia call out to him. An eyebrow lifted in surprise, but he just shook his head as a bemused grin played over his face.

I do need to lighten up on her. That woman is trying to do her best—enough screwing with the Ensign's head.

Victor walked around the lockers' corner and rested against an empty one numbered Wolf-11, his mismatched blue gaze briefly flitting over Talia, noting how closely everything fit on her, and Victor winced. He'd been getting the scars across his body removed recently, and that had been nearly as painful as receiving them. It would be a few weeks before all of the wounds were gone, and one of those bodysuits fit him nearly half as well. The lanky Bajoran shifted uncomfortably, thinking about the most recent session of scar removal. It had been like fire, but with as uncomfortably as one had fit him the other day, this was a necessary pain. Between how Victor felt and Talia looked in hers, it was difficult for Victor to process and only reinforced his desire to remove his scars.

"You know, I tried cramming into one of those the other day did not go well. I found out that those things do not like it when you're full of scar tissue."

His voice was matter of fact, and his eyes didn't linger anywhere specific on Talia, more checking how it fit against her. And when speaking to the shorter Ensign, he had no problem making eye contact where it might be awkward or embarrassing for someone else. He shrugged a little then and looked to the locker, gesturing to it.

"So, what should I know about these? I do have an actual training session in the next few days with Lieutenant Suder, so we don't need to go in-depth right now. Just some things I should know going into this, tips and tricks that you've picked up. Also, what more should I know about you, Ensign? I'm afraid we didn't get off to the best of starts, I kind of dropped a few bombshells on you, to begin with. But I'm happy to tell you anything that you want to know about me."

Victor's tone of voice was cheerful and even, doing his best to keep things friendly and casual with the potentially awkward situation of being in the locker room with the pilot. But where better to learn the basics of the operation of the Exosuit than here? That and Victor wanted to extend a bit of an olive branch to the Ensign. For as much fun as he liked having with new pilots, there was a time to be serious, friendly, and just plain polite.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #7 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Fighter Bay Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

It was an awkward moment shared between two people who just met. Such is life in Starfleet, she mused; it was never easy, getting familiar with new people. Talia had never learned that particular skill-set well enough to get along with everyone after a five minute conversation. If anything, she seemed to develop a sense about people in that amount of time which told her whether or not that particular person was someone she might end up liking at some point in the future. In that moment, as she stood before him and met his eyes evenly, she got a sense that this person just might fit with her.

We did start off wrong-footed—doesn’t mean we have to stay that way. Try to clear the air, she told herself. You want this guy on your team.

She lifted the corner of her lips a fraction before answering him: “First of all,” she started as she crossed her arms, “if we’re going to fly together, call me Shadow, or Talia. Drop the ‘ensign’, please. Second, I know what you mean about these,” she tugged on the collar of her ‘glove, “but trust me when I tell you – you want to wear something form-fitting under this thing. The ‘gloves are only a bitch to put on until you break them in – most of us that wear them do that by wearing it under your duty uniform for a few days,” she shrugged. “This is my preference after experimenting with leggings, compression suits, even underwear. These things,” she nodded her head towards the suit compartments, “will tear your skin up after a couple hours. But,” she shrugged, “if you want to learn the hard way, be my guest,” she finished with a smirk as she dropped her arms.

She gestured with a quick sideways nod for him to follow as she stepped off towards the containers along the rear bulkhead of the locker room. “Third,” she held up three digits for him as she walked, “we’re going to be spending plenty of time getting to know each other Victor, and I chose to let people’s actions reveal their character, not what they say,” she took a breath, then worked the tension out of her shoulders in a quick roll. “I’m not very good with small talk,” she muttered. “Please don’t take that personally.”

She strode up to the access panel built into the suit marked 04 and punched in her access code. Hope this still works, she worried briefly, before the container cracked open and slid vertical, revealing a deactivated mk. II suit. She eyed it briefly, wondering who had been wearing it before she got there. Her nose caught an odd smell as well—smells like...disinfectant, she dismissed the irritant with a subtle shake of her head as she turned to face Victor.

“So,” she waved a hand at the armor. “Behold, the mk. II Exosuit. Orientation Training for this piece of equipment will cost you about four hours of your life; but it might also save it too,” she nodded to emphasis the point. “I can lend you the OT, if you want,” she shrugged. “I downloaded my own copies of it, the tech manual, and a couple sims from Omega,” she paused to count off her fingers as she spoke. “Standard punch-out, emergency evasion, void-ops recovery proceedure. I’ll download them onto a PADD for you when I get time,” she watched his reaction and interrupted before he spoke, holding up a knife-edged palm to him. “Look, we don’t have access to “official” training centers out here. You want to learn how to fly and fight? Get used to learning as you go – because all the rest is academic. That’s why we train, constantly; out there,” she jutted her chin out towards the bay. “there aren’t any second chances.”

He knows that already. Allah, look at him, she shook her head, annoyed at herself for presuming to lecture anyone.

She took a breath, then turned back to the armor without giving him a chance to reply. “So then,” she stepped up to the display and keyed in the re-format user tasking. “First time is always the worst,” she muttered. “You have to basically reset all customization to default. Stay clear,” she warned before keying the final input and quickly stepping back. The armor beeped before expanding rapidly, as armor plates shifted and mimetic-synthweave stretched. In a few seconds, the armor stood taller, wider, and ready to interface with a new user.

“Right,” she nodded to it. “Some basic info that should help you,” she spoke as she started disassembling the suit into it’s various components: helmet, gloves, torso, pants, boots. “never activate the compression sequence until you have it all on,” she hefted the torso up over her head and fed her arms through carefully, adjusting as she continued. “The first time goes like this: chest, legs, boots, gloves, helmet,” with the torso in place, she hiked up one leg at a time into the bottom piece, wiggling a bit as she went. “These attach here,” she pointed to an inner ring on the ‘belt’ of the armor, delineated with vertical hashes. “Drop and twist,” she nodded to him, then demonstrated. The suit produced a rapid fire clicking noise as it locked. “That’s the sound of a good seal,” she told him.

She watched his face for a second as she stomped into the boots, again detailing the alignment rings and the sound of proper sealing. “After the first time this gets a lot easier, trust me,” she told him, worried that he wasn’t following her. She grabbed the gloves next, which proved awkward with their over-sized setting, but she managed to flip one over to the forearm-mounted PADD as she stood with a grunt. “Its not heavy, just not very flexible,” she tried to shrug but only ended up shifting the armor slightly.

“Right, here we go,” she muttered, and keyed in the compression cycle on her wrist, then dropped both arms and froze. “You want to stay as still as you can for this part,” she told him as the suit buzzed to life; the on-board power pack activated with a dull hum.

<User calibration, initiating> the suit vocalized.

Talia could feel the inner-most liquid-heat insulator moving, tightening around her body as the armor ‘learned’ its new user. “It’ll feel weird, too, but you have to stay still as you can,” she told Victor. “You don’t want to do this while under attack.” She could feel the secondary layer of the armor responding with the first; this ‘pressure layer’ served to contain internal pressure and provided the constriction necessary to prevent G-lock. The last two layers responded rapidly to the first two, as servos constricted armor plates, layered atop one another, shrinking and forming to the user’s body.

<User calibration, complete>

Talia nodded as she raised her hands and flexed her fingers. “Now we check our ROM, and adjust or re-calibrate as needed,” she told him as she flexed every joint in the armor’s systems, testing range of motion. “These suits aren’t built for flexibility,” she warned him, “so you can expect to feel stiff, until you get used to it.” Once she was satisfied, Talia ceased moving and resumed the default ‘rest’ stance. “Now, once all that’s done, getting out is as simple as,” she brought her left hand over and tapped a key on her right wrist PADD, then returned to the ‘rest’ stance.

<Deactivating> the suit announced, as the torso plates shifted and disengaged, sliding open like the petals of a flower. The bottom section parted at the thighs as the boots cracked open lengthwise, up to the knee joint, the armored sections peeling up and away. Talia stepped from the confines of the Exosuit within thirty seconds; she rested her fists on her hips and cocked her head at Victor. “Lot easier right,” she asked him rhetorically, a slight curve to her lips as she returned into the armor and reversed the process by voice command.

Fully armored sans helmet once more, she huffed a few loose strands of hair from her face as she rested a gauntlet on her hip, gesturing to him with her free hand. “Was that too fast? Any questions?”

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #8 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO Lockers| Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

Victor remained quiet, watching Talia don the Exosuit. Now was the time for learning and memorizing as best she could. She took care with every piece of her armor, the economy of movement when dealing with the heavy exosuit. It was all a matter of practice and body mechanics putting that suit on. His lips pursed at specific points in the explanation.

"My skin is already shredded like a smoked cut of beef, Talia, so I get it. And trust me, having all of these scars is uncomfortable as hell. never get caught in a plasma fire once, to say nothing of doing it twice."

Victor's tone of voice, while carrying a bit of humor in it, certainly had more than a small amount of truth to it, a painful one. There was a look in his eyes, a look of pain more physical than anything else. He did manage to crack a smile then and winked politely to Talia.

"That's ok, I'm not too bad with small talk myself, so you're fine, don't worry about it, but this isn't the time for idle chatter."

Then, a small smile came to his face as Talia continued and mentioned the part about not activating the compression sequences. From the blush that came to his face, it would be clear that he'd made just such a mistake. All in all, there was a lot to learn from Talia about this, and just watching someone go through the process helped out quite a bit.

"Thanks, by the way, for walking me through the basics; when I have my training session with Reggie, I want you to tag along. I'm sure you'll have some input as well. Plus, if you haven't met her yet, I'm sure that you'll like her. And yeah, I have some questions, but nothing that can't wait until we go through my training. For now, though, let's get your suit synced up with your Valkyrie. Now, if I remember right, those biomonitors do a good job of tracking reflexes and general reaction times, right? And you did fly the Gryphon, plus with your simulator time in the Mark 3, the adjustment won't be too bad. I've heard that the transition is like hopping into whatever your old bird was. With the obvious performance enhancements, you get with the 409's it should, and I do mean 'should' feel familiar once you actually take her out for a spin."

Victor smirked a little bit then and headed for the locker room door, winking to Talia. "By the way, you look far better in that underlayer than I do. I'm all lumpy. Pro-tip, avoid snipers."

There was mirth in Victor's tone then as he laughed at his joke. And while there was more trauma there, these were things that you had to laugh at, and Talia might actually get the story out of him if there was time enough for that soon. And there probably would be, with as dull as the process of set up could be at times. The Chief was a strange man with a gregarious attitude and odd sense of humor, all of it made for a truly odd duck when it came to an Enlisted career. If Victor wasn't crazy, he was well on his way to becoming it, but that's how all of the fun people were.

With that, Victor opened the doors back to the bay and nodded to Talia, smiling at the shorter woman, tilting his head back towards where her fighter was parked to indicate the destination. There was still a cheerful tone to his voice when he next spoke, figuring a minor incentive would work as motivation. that and Victor's eyes, even the cybernetic, were nearly bleeding from going through all of the safety checklists.

"If this goes smoothly and we get done by noon, lunch is on me, and I'll let you know how I got these scars."

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #9 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

It wasn’t the compliment that did it, even though it was gracious and unexpected; it was his simple and honest gratitude and the way he accepted her without sneering judgment. Yeah, I can work with this one, she thought as she listened, securing her helmet under her arm. A bit goofy, but sincere.

“It'll go smoothly Victor,” she assured him, referring to the imminent sync with her Valkyrie, “and lunch sounds good – just don’t mind my table manners.” The armor purred as she fell into step abreast of him, giving her another inch or so in height which she enjoyed. The previous moodiness had lessened substantially; accepting the new circumstances of the position she was in had brought clarity, and well defined goals. Talia thrived in pursuit of goals.

I’ll get there, whatever it takes. The thought prompted her memory suddenly, and she turned her head to address Victor as they walked.

“You mentioned ‘Reggie’, and before you mentioned LT Suder. I assume this is the Reggie Suder? Gemini? I’ve never met her, but I know her reputation – brilliant pilot. If she’s training you, I doubt there’d be anything more I could teach you,” her voice had grown slightly subdued, as she added a shrug. “But I’ll be there if you want,” she added, all sincerity. Allah, I could certainly learn a thing or two from her as well. Despite the rush of excitement that entailed, Talia bit her bottom lip in discomfort at the prospect of meeting such a renowned figure. Really need to see a roster – find out who the hell I’m flying with here.

It was hard for her to make friends, always had been; she just rubbed people the wrong way, or visa versa. Be honest – you rarely give people a chance, you moron, her inner, nasty self sneered. She looked to Victor again, at the unscathed side of him. Cute, in a boyish kind of way, she admitted. Doesn’t seem to have an angry bone in his body – curious how he ended up here; she made a mental note to find out. He worries too much about how he looks too, she pursed her lips then, knowing she was the last person that should be calling someone out for body image issues. Or maybe there’s just too much pain in him. I can certainly relate. Waking up here…it’s like a cruel joke.

A slight smile curved her lips then, as she tucked the long braid of her hair inside the collar of her armor in preparation for donning her helmet. “You know,” she tilted her head coyly, “I have it on good authority that some people find scars attractive,” she paused for a few seconds, watching his reaction. “Unfortunately, most of those people are Klingons,” she smiled at him as she pulled the helmet down over her head, obscuring her grin by the blue tint.

[Yalla], she clapped her hands together, [I can’t wait to get inside this beauty!] Unable to contain her enthusiasm, she trotted off towards the waiting Valkyrie, servos snarling.

OOC: Joke stolen/adapted from Garrus Vakarian, Mass Effect 2

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #10 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO Lockers| Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

Victor kept a casual gait while he walked with the significantly shorter Ensign. He could see becoming good friends with her in time, giving a thumbs up to her instead of responding verbally, not immediately anyway. There were more important things to do than to quibble over table manners and the company they'd keep over a meal. At the question about Reggie, she nodded politely to the woman, giving a thin smile.

"Yes, and she's just as formidable as you've probably heard. She's been putting me through my paces for combat flying and training. I already know how to fly a fighter, you don't want to know how many hours I have under my belt, but I've never been out with live weapons for anything other than operations checks. I thought I knew how to fly. I should say, Reggie can probably fly circles around me with her eyes closed. And this comes from someone that was an original test pilot for the 409's. I've been on the  Valkyrie 3 project since it moved to practical trials." His tone of voice was polite while he told about his flying experience. And he even seemed to be a little in awe of Reggie even while casually speaking about her. The scarred Chief had a history on the Theurgy, and being involved here on the ship was one of the most important things that he felt he'd done with his life.

Victor had enjoyed the chat, but as they made it back out to the Fighter Bay, Victor walked over to the Fighter with casual ease and snatched up his PADD, making sure that the Fighter was exactly as they'd left it. The gregarious NCO slapped the ladder one more time with a satisfied nod.

"All yours, Talia, hop on up. We've got your bird on-ground power for right now, so don't worry about booting up any reactors or the main engines. We've kept everything in safe mode for ground tests, and we're good to go. And with you saying such a thing about scars, I'll have to show them to you sometime soon."

Victor laughed cheerily then, and he smirked, tapping a few buttons on his PADD, making sure everything was ready to go. Thankfully it wouldn't take very long to get going.

"Alright, Talia, put your helmet on. I'm sending the prompts to you that will start the synchronizing. After that, run through the checklist like normal and let me know if you run into any problems."

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #11 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Fighter Bay | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

She was grinning like an idiot as she climbed the ladder up into the cockpit, armor joints snarling. It was one thing to climb into a simulation – the real thing just felt so much better. Even if it was locked down under minimal power for testing, she could feel the ship around her humming as she settled, eyes wide as she ran over the familiar interior. Her gauntleted hands found the stick and throttle instantly; even dead as they were, it felt great to finally have the tactile contact in her hands. Allah, I can’t wait to see what this baby can do, she thought briefly, as the internal lights flickered to life along with the main center console. In her helm display, and on the PADDs built into her forearms, the sync calibration procedure blinked – awaiting initiation. She blinked at the text scrolling along the inside of her visor, unused to the display. That’s new, she smirked.

“Alright Victor,” she called out, “initiating synchronization,” as her right index finger tapped the key on her left wrist.

The hum of the cockpit grew an octave as more of the fighter’s systems instantly blared to life; more data scrolled along the interior of her visor. She laughed without meaning to – it was like pre-flight, only set in a safe mode. The on-board computer was simply running diagnostics for all the fighter’s sub-systems and redundancies, while in-loading to her suit. This is incredible; its like a RIO, but it’s a computer! She watched as the readout rolled on; Inertial dampeners – offline, Primary reactor – Safe mode, Propulsion – offline, Weapons – offline. Hmm. Seems ground-test mode allows only minimum power to core systems – pretty practical for routine maintenance and calibrations. Wonder if that was intentional, or something Victor thought up as an after-thought during the testing phase? She made a note to pick his brain about it and all the other questions she had over lunch.

[Standby for new pilot integration], the disembodied voice used by all Starfleet computers droned in her helmet, prompting her to wince. Ugh, I don’t want to listen to that in combat. Maybe I can alter it? Her fingers danced over the central console, pulling up the personalization settings. Perfect. She could alter the voice output substantially, as well as alter the name of the fighter, on top of a host of other options. Hell, I can even upload data, a wry smile eased the corners of her lips up as she thought of Morrow and his playlist of music from their days on the Diamondback. I'll have to transfer that onto a PADD and get it down here tomorrow, she told herself.

[Pilot integration, complete] the computer announced after several superfluous beeps. [Initiating exosuit calibration and synchronization. Follow the displayed prompts], it informed her as a list of input commands scrolled before her eyes. Allah, she groaned internally, this is going to take all fucking day.

[Four Hours Later…]

Talia groaned as she pulled her helm free, running a hand through her tangled mane as she shook it out. Her stomach was growling and her eyes burned from staring at scrolling screeds of data for what seemed like an eternity. Her ass was painfully asleep, sending sharp tingles of pain shooting down her thighs as she hauled herself up and out of the cockpit. She cursed, lividly, as both knees popped as she slid down the ladder to the deck. “Ugh, fucking helmet,” she grumbled, climbing back up to retrieve it. Once she had the lip of it secured in one hand, she slid back down to the deck with a clang that echoed across the bay.

Looking around for the chief, she wasn’t surprised to see Victor fiddling with something under the port nacelle of her bird. “So,” she cocked her head at him as she threw a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll go change, then lunch, yes?”

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #12 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO Lockers| Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

Victor's eyes were practically bleeding from the series of confirmation screens that he'd worked his way through while Talia ran through the operations of her Valkyrie. The ground test settings were a pain, just like any functions check. Still, at the very least, when it came to safety, things had been improved and modified with the Mark Threes Valkyries, for which Victor was endlessly grateful, even if they weren't 'easy' or 'boring.' However Victor felt about it, though, it didn't matter; they'd designed these functions intentionally. Even if Victor hadn't been a part of that call, it was one that he understood.

Still, it was a process that took four whole hours to fully complete, and by the end of it, Victor was going cross-eyed with hunger. He'd started the day early by pulling the fighter out of mothballs and getting it ready for Talia. So the moment that the short Arabian woman hopped out of the Valkyrie and wanted to break for lunch, a brilliant grin crossed over the NCO's features.

"Perfect, that works for me, Talia. I'll see you at the Officer's lounge, and it's just next door to the locker rooms. That way, we can get food here without going to one of the actual dining halls." 

Victor rubbed his eyes then and stretched his arms out. While he didn't have the problem of having a butt that had fallen asleep, standing hunched over a PADD was always a pain in the ass. At least this would give Talia a chance to change out of her Exosuit, but Victor was stuck in the yellow coveralls for the time being since he still had more work to do after.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll make sure it's waiting for you after you get changed. It won't be freshly cooked, but a replicator works for me right now."

Victor closed down the PADD and put the Valkyrie back to sleep with a cheerful smile since they were done with everything. There was no need to keep ground power going to the craft, and Victor had already installed all of the locks. The locks could stay for now, but killing the power only took the press of a button, and Victor pulled out a single large cable. After that, the man confirmed that the Valkyrie was fully powered down.

"Alright, and your bird is all put to bed. She'll be ready when you need her, Talia, now let's eat something."

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs] Welcome to Valhalla.

Reply #13 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | FB Lockers | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

Damn, this place has its own mess hall too, she thought incredulously as her head snapped around, searching for it. A gym, a mess, what next - shady bar with private dancers, she huffed at her own stupid joke. She had heard of such establishments of course, but never stepped foot in one. Returning her eyes to the Chief, she couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the poor guy. He appeared exhausted and hungry to boot so she nodded as she started backstepping towards the locker room. "Don't worry about ordering for me Victor - I have my meal plan saved on my PADD. Go ahead and get yourself situated and I'll be along ok," she told him as she turned and marched off, suit servos whining with every stride.

Can't wait to take this damn glove off too - feels like I'm wrapped in rubber!

[5 minutes later, Fighter Bay Mess]

She managed a wry smile at the sight of Victor stuffing his face with something as she passed him on the way to the replicator, PADD in hand. Her dark eyes scanned the tablet as she scrolled through meal options; she wasn't so much looking for something she liked the most, just something that would be less messy to eat. Talia rarely had company for meals, and tended to eat like a ravenous beast - barely allowing herself to taste what she shoveled in her mouth. The nutritional edicts she adhered to in order to maintain her mass index, muscle regeneration, and metabolism were constantly shifting - it was a never ending task to log in everything she ate and drank for dietary data.

Alright, lunch #472 it is, she decided. Keying the replicator activation with a quick tap, she leaned towards it to order - a habit she'd developed since she was a young teen. "Talia Al-Ibrahim, pre-order number 472." She ran a hand through her tangled mess of hair while the replicator hummed, then beeped warmly. Feeling her mouth watering as she lifted the tray out, she turned to join Victor at his table. Talia always took the time to upload every meal plan she'd ever used for the past decade into the replicator system - it literally saved her countless hours of repetition - and made her life easier by making small known adjustments to her macros. 

"Hey - no ones gonna take that from you," she ribbed him as she sat, then wasted no time before tearing into her own meal; grilled salmon, avacado and boiled eggs, and a chic pea spring salad. Everything a growing body needed. Running her hands through her hair to secure it in a single drape over her left shoulder to keep it out of her face, she gave her fellow Wolf a toothy grin before digging in.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs.] Welcome to Valhalla

Reply #14 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO  Mess | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion

Victor smirked, looking up to Talia from his bowl of what was essentially Bajoran goulash. He tapped the table and then pointed to the doors with his spoon.

"Fighter bay gotta be ready to launch and recover in a moment's notice. Plus, we're in the situation we're part of. Also, going through the War on one of the busiest ships on the front kinda fucks you up just a bit."  Victor shrugged, spooning a mouthful of noodles and vegetables from the bowl into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully while looking over Talia's plate, nodding to it. It was a meal that made sense for a Pilot, lots of energy, not a heavy dinner that would do for a long patrol, but a sensible one for aboard ship. He certainly seemed to approve.

"So, anyway, I got my love of flying from my parents. I grew up on a cargo ship, the SS Winter. I loved the stories, historical and fiction of pilots facing one another like knights in the sky, the tales of freedom and legend of just being able to take off on your own. Sure, we stuck to established routes, but all of that is what the fantasy of all of it was for me as a kid, you know?"

Victor smiled fondly at the memories, happy to share one of the stories that shaped who he was, and it gave them something to talk about some common ground and the like.

"Anyway, when I was 16, my parents got me into the Yeager Flight school on earth, and after that, I followed that up with Starfleet, wound up a mechanic as well as a pilot for shuttles. I loved it, and I eventually wound up deck chief of the Thunderchild." With that, Victor smiled at Talia and motioned at her with his spoon. He figured that she'd pick up that he was curious about her. Either way, Victor had a bowl of food to finish up, and the Ensign seemed to be an interesting woman. Obviously there was more to his own story, but that was for later.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs.] Welcome to Valhalla

Reply #15 –
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | FBO – Mess | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Tae

The more Victor talked, the more Talia found herself smiling with him. She’d listened, nodding intermittently between mouthfuls of her own meal, and while a part of her envied what appeared to be a much more stable and nurturing youth compared to hers – another part knew it couldn’t have been all sunshine and rainbows. Everyone has demons, she reminded herself. You’re the last person in the cosmos to judge someone else playing things close to the chest.

If she was honest with herself – like she expected others to be with her –  Talia wasn’t versed in being vulnerable. Opening up to people cost her dearly, emotionally speaking. It just hurt. She layered herself in armor against that pain, constantly, doing her best to keep people at arms length – but being alone hurt too. Now I’m on a ship after taking a cold nap for six months, surrounded by people just as broken as I am – why cant you just relax?

Pulled from her internal musings by Victor tapping on the table, Talia cursed herself for letting her attention drift. He leveled the spoon at her with a smirk, obviously motioning for her to regale him with stories of her own youth and so-on.

Yeah, that’s not happening, she deadpanned mentally. She focused on common ground between them instead, and tried to keep her tone light as she spoke.

“Actually,” she paused to wipe her mouth with a napkin, “I never really had much interest in flying before the Academy,” she shrugged. “I was always interested in cultural history, research in ancient civilizations, mythology,” she gestured to him, remembering their initial encounter. “When I joined Starfleet, the goal was to travel the void, seeking knowledge of other races. I wanted to know how they developed, if we shared common “milestones”, and the similarities between those triggers,” she smiled lopsided then, lifting a shoulder. “The Breen changed all that,” she muttered.

And there goes the feel-good-mood. Nice job, ace.

“I like your stories a lot better than mine Victor,” she laughed nervously out of no where. “Keep going,” she pointed her fork at him, then resumed eating.

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs.] Welcome to Valhalla

Reply #16 –
CPO Victor vanVinter | FBO  Mess | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy Attn: @Dumedion



Victor smirked at Talia, wagging a finger at the woman while he finished his meal. He had some specific thoughts regarding that, but they could wait while he cleaned his plate. Once he did, he spoke after rinsing his mouth with a swig of water.

"I just know how to tell them and make them seem entertaining. If you were there for half of my stories, you'd be utterly mortified, Talia. Either through the actual boredom of the acts or the nailbiting terror. The one thing that I can say is that we'll make a fair few of them together out there."

Victor nodded aft, to indicate the Fighter bay doors and the space beyond them. That didn't last long, as he ran the rest of that through his head, drumming his fingers on the table.

"You're a chronicler or a scribe. You study and like to delve into the stories of others. And you found yourself in this position where the world is moving beyond and around you. And you've been caught up in a profession where stories are made about people like you. Like us."

Victor didn't always get poetic when he spoke, but when he did, sometimes he'd go overboard, like right now. His cybernetic blue eyes bored into the lean woman across from him. Victor seemed to judge and assess Talia, his lips pursed curiously, sizing her up.

"I can work with that. We'll make good friends so long as we both make an effort to understand each other. If you have any specific stories that you want from me, feel free to ask. Just know that they aren't without cost. I want to fly with you Talia. You're new to the 409's but not to flying. We both are, and we can use each other."
 

Re: Day 04 [0745 hrs.] Welcome to Valhalla

Reply #17 –
[ Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | FB Mess | Deck 16 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Tae

Her eyes lingered on the launch doors of the Assault Bay while she listened to Victor's tone change into a seriousness he'd not expressed until then; it was like he'd graded her on a private exam, and found her worthy of a passing assessment. For her part, Talia managed to keep the unease from her features, but felt her body tense at the possibility of yet another negative reaction to her social skills.

The expected blow never came, but she huffed the smallest of chuckles as she dipped her head. "I'd prefer the term 'help' each other, but yes," she raked a hand through her hair as she lifted her chin to meet his eyes. "But I'm not a scribe or historian Victor," she shook her head as her tone grew melancholy. "I...gave that life up for this one when my uncle died, and I don't like talking about myself. It's...uncomfortable for me. So, I understand how stories come with a cost."

She took another quick breath, before scooping up the last of the fish on her plate. "As far as out there," she jerked her head to the launch doors, "I'm sure we'll give somebody something to talk about, for sure." After she'd chewed up the last of her meal, Talia paused to wipe her mouth with a napkin then threw him a quick nod. "I'll fly with you any day."

Understanding each other would come in time, she knew, as they built the trust and rapport between them - something she'd need to do with all the pilots, or as many as she could at least. That was the real wild card in the game, to her. For whatever reason, probably more due to his easy-going nature, she already felt like more than half of that battle was won with Victor.

She grinned at him then, an honest grin, dimples and all. "Any damn day."

-FIN
 
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