Kara comes in hot, engine smoking from a close call with a heavy raider, landing gear burning a scorch mark into the deck. She’s barely down the ladder and back on solid ground before Tigh comes charging her way. He’s red-faced and out of breath and Lee is dogging his heels with a grimace. She barely manages to hide her grin when she realizes they must have run all the way from CIC.
Calmly, she unsnaps the metal collar and hands her helmet to Cally as the XO starts raging about her reckless, insubordinate, boneheaded, blah blah blah… She stops him when he finally piques her anger at “unprofessional” though.
“It’s called walking the plank, sir,” she bites off, “and it’s a regulation maneuver when under heavy enemy fire.”
“Walking the—?! REGULATION!?” He booms. “Baah! Who the frak would authorize that bit of hotdogging?” He throws his arms out in frustration.
Kara quirks an eyebrow and looks past him, and Lee clears his throat. “I did, sir.”
“You!” Tigh gapes, open mouth and all, then whips his head around to look back at Kara, who’s not even bothering to hide the smirk she’s wearing now. “Ho, ho, I should have known.” He says, pointing at her then Lee in turn. “She’s a bad influence on the Old Man and she’s got you under her spell too now. I bet your bro—”
Lee steps in immediately, his jaw clenching hard so the muscle in his cheek jumps a little, and Kara grins harder because it’s never not fun watching Lee lose his carefully cultivated control. He’s eye-to-eye with the colonel now and there’s murder in his gaze. “I don’t think you have any frakking idea what you’re talking about,” he growls, nearly spitting the words, “sir.”
They look ready to draw daggers, and Kara rolls her eyes. Amusing as this is, it’s getting old and that was a double shift and she’s pretty sure she smells. Plus, she doesn’t want Lee cooling his heels in the brig for the next three weeks. That would mean she’d have to step up as CAG and she frakking hates paperwork.
So she coughs and steps forward, waits till Tigh’s eyes are on her. “The turkeys always strike the same way, simultaneous rapidfire shots from port and starboard. Timing’s tight but I realized if you go vertical at just the right second, they can’t get a bead. I worked up the plan and Captain Adama authorized me to try it in the next combat strike.”
Tigh scowls. "That's crazy! A frakking risky untested stunt like that! You're just lucky they didn't--"
“With all due respect, Colonel?” Kara tries not to sneer. “I don't rely on luck. Took out three heavy raiders in less than five minutes." She flicks a glance at Lee. "I believe that's a record?" He nods and she smiles triumphantly, leveling a smug stare at the XO. "Boom, sir.”
The colonel narrows his eyes and looks away, his glance falling on her viper, which sits unharmed. He frowns and mumbles, “Well, what the hell kind of name is that anyway, ‘Walking the plank?’ What is this, a frakking pirate ship?"
Kara blinks and bites her lip, determined not to meet Lee’s eyes. She’ll bet good cubits they’re both picturing Crashdown’s spot-on imitation of Tigh as a growling sea marauder. Once the ECO had even swiped Hotdog’s jock strap and used it as an eye patch. (Thankfully, it was clean at the time.)
The temptation is too much; she can’t resist. “Grr, Arrgh. Sir.”
The XO stares at her blankly for a minute, then his face twitches. She almost thinks he’ll crack a smile, but he just sighs loudly. “That's just frakking great." he says, drawling a little on the profanity and shaking his head. "Maybe I'll get one of those talking bird things. Teach it to tell you off. Save my voice that way.”
He pivots and leaves the deck, and Kara snaps a salute at his retreating back. “Aye, aye, sir,” she calls out and Lee snorts with laughter. That’s all it takes to set her off and they giggle until they’re wheezing, spouting quips about “bottles of rum” and “buried treasure.” Kara’s stomach aches from laughing so hard. But Tyrol hovers nearby glaring, and they try valiantly to recover the respectable demeanor befitting the CAG and flight instructor.
Their composure lasts for all of 30 seconds, until Crashdown saunters past, whistling innocently, and they start howling all over again.
A Pirate's Life for Me, "Maybe I'll get one of those talking bird things..."
Calmly, she unsnaps the metal collar and hands her helmet to Cally as the XO starts raging about her reckless, insubordinate, boneheaded, blah blah blah… She stops him when he finally piques her anger at “unprofessional” though.
“It’s called walking the plank, sir,” she bites off, “and it’s a regulation maneuver when under heavy enemy fire.”
“Walking the—?! REGULATION!?” He booms. “Baah! Who the frak would authorize that bit of hotdogging?” He throws his arms out in frustration.
Kara quirks an eyebrow and looks past him, and Lee clears his throat. “I did, sir.”
“You!” Tigh gapes, open mouth and all, then whips his head around to look back at Kara, who’s not even bothering to hide the smirk she’s wearing now. “Ho, ho, I should have known.” He says, pointing at her then Lee in turn. “She’s a bad influence on the Old Man and she’s got you under her spell too now. I bet your bro—”
Lee steps in immediately, his jaw clenching hard so the muscle in his cheek jumps a little, and Kara grins harder because it’s never not fun watching Lee lose his carefully cultivated control. He’s eye-to-eye with the colonel now and there’s murder in his gaze. “I don’t think you have any frakking idea what you’re talking about,” he growls, nearly spitting the words, “sir.”
They look ready to draw daggers, and Kara rolls her eyes. Amusing as this is, it’s getting old and that was a double shift and she’s pretty sure she smells. Plus, she doesn’t want Lee cooling his heels in the brig for the next three weeks. That would mean she’d have to step up as CAG and she frakking hates paperwork.
So she coughs and steps forward, waits till Tigh’s eyes are on her. “The turkeys always strike the same way, simultaneous rapidfire shots from port and starboard. Timing’s tight but I realized if you go vertical at just the right second, they can’t get a bead. I worked up the plan and Captain Adama authorized me to try it in the next combat strike.”
Tigh scowls. "That's crazy! A frakking risky untested stunt like that! You're just lucky they didn't--"
“With all due respect, Colonel?” Kara tries not to sneer. “I don't rely on luck. Took out three heavy raiders in less than five minutes." She flicks a glance at Lee. "I believe that's a record?" He nods and she smiles triumphantly, leveling a smug stare at the XO. "Boom, sir.”
The colonel narrows his eyes and looks away, his glance falling on her viper, which sits unharmed. He frowns and mumbles, “Well, what the hell kind of name is that anyway, ‘Walking the plank?’ What is this, a frakking pirate ship?"
Kara blinks and bites her lip, determined not to meet Lee’s eyes. She’ll bet good cubits they’re both picturing Crashdown’s spot-on imitation of Tigh as a growling sea marauder. Once the ECO had even swiped Hotdog’s jock strap and used it as an eye patch. (Thankfully, it was clean at the time.)
The temptation is too much; she can’t resist. “Grr, Arrgh. Sir.”
The XO stares at her blankly for a minute, then his face twitches. She almost thinks he’ll crack a smile, but he just sighs loudly. “That's just frakking great." he says, drawling a little on the profanity and shaking his head. "Maybe I'll get one of those talking bird things. Teach it to tell you off. Save my voice that way.”
He pivots and leaves the deck, and Kara snaps a salute at his retreating back. “Aye, aye, sir,” she calls out and Lee snorts with laughter. That’s all it takes to set her off and they giggle until they’re wheezing, spouting quips about “bottles of rum” and “buried treasure.” Kara’s stomach aches from laughing so hard. But Tyrol hovers nearby glaring, and they try valiantly to recover the respectable demeanor befitting the CAG and flight instructor.
Their composure lasts for all of 30 seconds, until Crashdown saunters past, whistling innocently, and they start howling all over again.