Log:Polite Protocol & Decisions
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A RolePlay Log by | |
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Title |
Polite Protocol & Decisions |
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Date |
Saturday 3/March/2018 |
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IC Date |
Natunda 25/Selona/1158 |
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Location |
Recreation Lounge - RAF Renegade |
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Appearing |
Maeve Zavir Fenwick Mare Sabrina Codi & Sar Yavok |
Lieutenants Zavir & Mare along with Specialist Codi meet for drinks, medical manners are discussed. Colonel Yavok comes in as well to partake of a drink and not-enjoy the evening news.
The Recreation Lounge of the Renegade is often quiet, being a place where the crew go to relax. While obviously tailored to the tastes of starfighter pilots, with a pair of simulators in the corner, a pool table, a Dejarik holo-board, and several booths, the lounge also sports a small bar, available to all. Members of the crew can be found here at all hours of the day, but conversations are usually subdued unless there has recently been a major victory that the Renegade participated in.
A broad window is open to space along the row of booths, and smooth Bith jazz often plays from hidden speakers. There is a glowing jukebox available in the corner, free of charge.
Casually hacking into the jukebox again, and adding more music to the selection to work with, Maeve Zavir unplugs her datapad from the box and hits the updated menu, selects a few of the songs then grins as something other than Jazz begins to play. Looking rather smug, however briefly, Maeve walks over to the bar and orders a drink for herself and exchanges a high-5 with the bartender, "See? told you I could do it."
"Ah... this is the..." a chestnut haired woman looks down at a datapad and then back up at the sign next to the doorway, blinking owlishly behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. "Recreation Lounge." She nods and looks down at her datapad again, confirming it with a nod. Poking her head in, she stares blankly at the dim ambience and cushy seats. After a moment, she shrugs and steps in towards the bar.
Fenwick clears his throat and rubs at the bridge of his nose while reading from a datapad in his offhand. If his concentration is anything to judge from, it appears important. Then again, the small slab is passed off to another crewperson in passing, their heading on towards the exit. He mentions checking statuses later, shares a quick smile, and then returns to glowering thoughtfully now in the general direction of nothing. The background music shifts. He blinks. The man looks up and around, leans further back before moving to sit closer to Maeve. "That you this time?" Even as he asks, he's glancing over his shoulder. More incoming.
Accepting the drink that's nudged toward her across the bar, Maeve waves to Sabrina once the cybernetic specialist steps into the bar and winks at Fenwick in response. "Me? would I do that? Hack into a jukebox in a bar in the center, more or less, of a ship of the resistance? Without permission from command to amend and update their music selection that's about five decades out of date?" She lifts the shotglass slightly and nods, "Abso-freaking-lutely."
Sabrina makes her way through the tables and small clots of enlisted men and women who are milling about, trying to make the most of their down time. She makes her way to the bar, however, with a bullish determination, her stride businesslike and purposeful. Once she reaches the bar, however, she seems to lose a bit of purpose, exchanging it for confusion at the menu. She looks around curiously for a minute and catches the eye of Maeve Zasvir. Blinking, she waves awkwardly back and then makes her way over to where she is sitting conversing to another Resistance fighter.
Fenwick chuckles under his breath while shifting further in his seat so that he can better look to the approaching newcomer. He brings up a hand into a casual, clipped wave of greeting. "Reminds me of my better days, when music was life," he mentions offhandedly. He busies himself with remaining out of a proper uniform and undoes the upper buttons of his shirting before ordering a drink, something distinctly Corellian and strong. "And not this, whatever this happens to be. Renegade. Anyways, huh. By- well- who?" He starts to ask, looking to Maeve and then nodding in Sabrina's direction.
Maeve Zavir makes a small sort of sound that's almost a laugh, almost a snort, something like that, and grouses down into the drink she's holding, "Makes me miss being on Nar," in a reluctant tone of voice. "That, my friend, is Sabrina Codi, she's a cybernetic's specialist, and you absolutely have to meet her," she pats Fenwick on the shoulder as she slides to her feet. Carrying her drink with, Mae invites herself over to the table where Sabrina has just moved to, and invades said table & conversation with a smile. "Dr. Codi, mind if we join you two?"
Sabrina looks up as Dr. Maeve Zavir makes her way to the table. She pauses awkwardly, halfway between taking a seat and standing to greet Maeve. She straightens up and takes off her gold rimmed glasses, placing them in an inner pocket. "Of course, Dr. Zavir. Please, feel free to join me." Tightly smiling at the other individual, she nods cordially. "Dr. Sabrina Codi," she says, outstretching her hand politely.
Fenwick receives his drink in time to mask his blanching of Nar Shaddaa's mentioning with taking a quick sip, allowing the stubby glass to rest near his mouth. "I absolutely have to?" he asks in return, raising an eyebrow. That curious look only deepens as he looks between the two women. Maeve pats his shoulder and departs. He opens his mouth, hesitates, and then carefully lowers the glass just so he can helplessly shrug. Okay. He follows suit, stops to turn back and grab his forgotten drink, and wanders with. "Fenwick Mare, or some combination thereof," greets Fenny as he takes to the handshake, "Doctor, or something like it. No specialty in cybernetics, however."
"Excellent," Mae remarks as she takes one of the open chairs and smiles at Fenwick and Sabrina as the introductions are successfully made. "Now we've all met and we can skip the formalities from here on out, as long as everyone is amiable to that suggestion. As we don't have a ranking CMO as of yet, we get to muddle along together. Which calls for a round of drinks," she waves to one of the servers, "my treat."
Sabrina raises an eyebrow appraising Maeve. "I'm not one for formalities between colleagues, of course. Glad to have the opportunity to work with you both." Sabrina nods to both of them. She peruses the menu and then shrugs at Maeve and Fenwick. "Corellian Whiskey, please." she says to the bartender with a tight nod. "Neat."
Doctor party!? No longer! Sar wanders into the Rec Lounge, his field jacket slung over his shoulder. He slugs over to the bar and slumps against it, setting his jacket down on the barstool next to him. "Just the one today," Sar says to the bartender.
Looking up, he spies a viewscreen that's showing one of the Galactic News Network's local stations. And of course it's the footage of him ordering the deaths of dozens of FO noncombatants. He grinds his teeth and says, "A double, then."
"Well," starts Fenwick as he takes a seat and gets himself situated all over again, "I'm going to agree with that idea too. There's no need for formalities. And since I'm only here to fix a broken sentient or two- or really, as many as possible- I'll pass on the idea of Chief. Managing controlled chaos would..." keep him from doing what he loves to do. The young man leans back, stretching corded muscle underneath threadbare clothes and a low sigh. He refocuses on the ordering but that attention is easily lost in watching the appearance of Sar. He's quieter. "Another Corellian whiskey here, if you don't mind. It's a favorite. I think that makes you," he angles his glass towards Sabrina, "My new favorite. Ah, well, no offense, Miss Zavir."
"Formalities can be useful, in such instances as 'Sir, please put down the knife'," Mae suggests with a wry glimpse of a grin. "See? Formal. That's a good use of polite dialog. But considering how often we're working elbow to elbow while wrist deep in a wounded soldier, I think it makes things more time consuming in terribly time sensitive moments," and signals for a whiskey for herself as well, making a round of it before she laughs. "I don't mind being your old favorite, Fenny. You can call me Maeve, or just Mae," she invites with a shrug and glances toward where Fenwick's attention is drawn and spots both Sar and then the broadcast in rapid order. "oh dear," she says in a soft voice, a grimace aimed at the GNN feed.
Sabrina nods to Fenwick, sharing a small smile as the whiskeys arrive. She raises her glass to his and clinks it briefly before taking a sip of the amber gold liquid. Chuckling at Maeve, she also raises her glass to her in a salute. "Well spoken, Maeve. I think we'll get along just fine." She notices the change of expression on Maeve's face and tracks her gaze over to the screen as well.
Sar Yavok clenches his hand into a fist, but keeps watching the feed. Moments later, it changeds to views of the bridge crew clutching their throats or scrambling to try and pull back at the doors for a chance at life. It's no use, though. They all perish. And the camera is not shy. The First Order's great at propaganda.
Sar's hand relaxes and rests palm-down on the bar until his dirnk arrives. Then the two become very familiar.
"Well, I could, but- actually, I will since I ask the same of anyone else. Okay, Maeve," and Fenwick just spoke of ignoring most formalities anyways, especially the workplace variety. His gaze continues after Sar and briefly to the feed but back to the conversation at hand he clinks glasses with Sabrina and a grin. The grin fades with the slow change of atmosphere in the room. Fen shifts in his chair to better watch Sar, too. "You should probably go over there sooner than later, huh?" The man looks to Maeve.
Tossing the last of her whiskey back, and wincing ever so subtly at the burn, "Ayup," isn't so much something she -says- as the sound she makes as she rises to her feet. "OK. So. Uniform standards and crew morale. Discuss," she suggests with a quick glimpse of a smile before she makes her way back over to the bar and signals for a refill as she takes a seat alongside Sar and rests her free hand on his.
Sabrina watches as Maeve makes her way over to the grumpy looking wearer of jackets at the end of the bar. Turning back to appraise Fenwick, she raises a bushy eyebrow. "You saw the uniforms they want us to wear, right?" She grimaces and takes another sip of her whiskey. "Yeah. I don't think so." Sabrina scoffs and shakes her head.
Sar Yavok turns his hand over to accept Maeve's before lifting his glass to take a long, long sip from his glass. A year ago, he would've been jamming combat stims into his neck and punching something really hard, so at least this is a sign of improvement. He swallows the dark, burning liquid and looks over at the Doctor, giving her a nod, "Hey there, Maeve. Looks like I'm famous."
Sabrina scoffs again, shaking her head and muttering something about jackets. Draining the last of her whiskey, she stands up and nods at Fenwick. "Well. I think I'm going to go and take a look at some of the other facilities of the Renegade. A pleasure drinking with you, Fenwick. We'll have to do it again some time." Smiling, she nods and makes her way for the exit, pulling up a datapad to look at it again.
Fenwick repeats Maeve's 'ayup' with a slow nod and watches after the two of them now at the bar. Determined to not look as affected as the two of them, he returns to talking with Sabrina. He laughs breathlessly, a quick sarcastic hiss of one. "It's going to be fun, those things. I see the point. I also see me breaking that rule and letting people yell at me. Fun," he adds before finishing his whiskey. He has his second one but with Sabrina moving to leave he stands as well. "Here, let me go ahead and be useful then. I'll come and help." As he moves to leave after her, Fen holds up a salute to the two of Sar and Mae.
"It was bound to happen and that the Empire released it so fast just proves that they're not as stupid as their size challenged genitalia named ships suggest," Maeve Zavir replies as she curls her hand with Sar's and accepts her refill with a smile aimed at the barkeep. "Thanks," she says in a murmur, lifting the glass with a small salute before sipping from it.
Sar Yavok looks back at Fenwick as he makes his exit, flashing what salute he can muster in return. "It was bound to happen, yes. Don't mean I have to be happy about it."
"You have to weather this," Maeve says quietly once Fenwick has taken his leave and the barkeep is slinging drinks at the other end of the counter. "You can't undo what's been done. All you can do is stand to it, and that means taking what people are inevitably going to think, say and do. I'm with you, Sar, all the way down the line. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, I know it, Maeve," Sar answers before taking another long sip from his glass. Swallowing hard, he winces and sets the glass down. Clearing his throat a little, he reaches over and rests his other hand on top of her's, saying, "Maeve, this is probably way too soon, but I been doin' some thinkin', and I think I love you." He turns his head to look at her, finally as he says this.
Arching one eyebrow ever so faintly, "You've been doing some thinking, have you?" Mae wonders in a thoughtful voice of her own, a faint smile curving her lips. "Did you draw up a list of pros and cons? Or a flow chart? Pie graph?" she sips from her glass again, making a thoughtful sound. "I know. You crowd sourced the idea and after getting enough data sampling to work with you decided that maybe you could possibly think you might love me?"
Sar Yavok rolls his eyes and reaches over to slap at her arm. "Now, you know /kriffin/ well I didn't do any of that," he says, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.
"So, which is it?" Mae wonders as she finishes her drink and sets her glass down, head tipping subtly to the side, blinking at Sar with that one eyebrow still subtly arched.
"I just thought about you, and the words came to me, I reckon," Sar says, looking over at her. He does a little half shrug and picks up his glass again, taking a sip from it.
"Ahh. Well then," and Mae makes a thoughtful hum of sound and tips a sidelong look at Sar. "Since you seem to have put some serious study into," she muses and takes the glass out of Sar's hand and sets it beside hers and rests her now-free hand on the side of his face. "Took you long enough."
"Well, it took me knowin' you for two years to even kiss you, so...I guess I just like to take my time," Sar answers with an actual smirk this time, leaning his face into her hand.
"Idiot," Mae says in a fond tone of voice as she leans in and kisses him softly. "I was wondering if I'd have to do something spectacular. Like arson. Or fireworks. Or both. Maybe some theft, property damage, a speeder chase with a squadron of troopers dancing in unison to get you to figure it out."
"Well, you shoulda just set up some landing lights like they do for ships," Sar says after returning the kiss. He chuckles softly and says, "I figured you thought I was just some ol' idiot who got shot up a lot."
"What, and waved you down for a landing using flares and flashing lights?" Maeve wonders with a mild eye roll. "And not -only- just some old idiot who gets shot up a lot. You're my old idiot who gets shot up a lot. I love you too, in case you hadn't figured that out yet. I'm sure in pilot jargon it sounds something like 'You're a really awesome swell pilot, will you sign my helmet?'"
Sar Yavok smirks and says, "I'll sign anything you want me to, darlin'." He leans his forehead against hers and closes his eyes. "I ever tell you how good you are for me, Doc?" There's another smirk.
"No where near often enough," Mae replies, resting her forehead lightly against his and smooths her fingertips gently against his face again. "You're good for me too, you know? You drew me out again, when I'd started to just do nothing but make money and skim from one patient after another without really giving a damn. You bring me back to life."
"Well, that's one point for me," Sar says, resting a hand on her leg. He gives it a squeeze and moves to stand, asking, "Let's get out of here, yeah?"
