BSG FIC: Conversant
Characters: Cally, Crashdown
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Speaking can be revealing. Set early in S1.
Note: This was written for the BSG Secondary Characters Ficathon for melek_naz and posted woefully late -- I just overlooked this sitting in my Fic folder since December. Requirements: Crash, Cally, Banter; no babies, no fluff. The format is dialogue only -- that choice was mine. I know. Weird.
“Need a hand?”
“Wha-? Frak!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You were just reaching for that tool.”
“Well, you could hand it to me, Nipper!”
“Sure, um, but I’m not Nipper.”
“Who. . . awww, frak, sorry, sir.”
“No, no, don’t get up, specialist. Cally, right?”
“Right, sir. Thank you, sir. I’m fine now, sir. Um, which sir is it?”
“You’re working on my ship. Does that help?”
“Well, you’re not Lt. Valerii, so you must be. . . .”
“Call me Crashdown.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It’s just hard remembering with everything, sir. I apologize, sir.”
“Come off it! Look, call me Crash. Everyone else does.”
“Ummm, thank you, sir, but, could I just get back to work now? This panel isn’t going to fix itself.”
“Let me hand you the tools while you do that, you’re going to need some help if you’re replacing the leads.”
“You don’t have to, sir.”
“Stop calling me sir, Specialist. Or I’ll start calling you. . . what’s Cally short for, anyway?”
“It’s not important, sir, erm, I mean Crash. Frak!”
“Here, why don’t you pass me the panel cover so your hands are free.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do, sir, erm, Crash. And Nipper’ll be back soon. It’s his job.”
“Well, I saw the CAG call Nipper over to check out his Viper, so I don’t think he’ll be back here anytime soon. And I can’t go on CAP until this Raptor’s back up in the air, so why don’t I lend a hand?”
“Um, okay. Thanks. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Need a screwdriver?”
“Yes, thanks. I’ve got to get to the conduit, here. There! Can I pass the clip over to you?”
“Sure. So, funny to see anyone else but the Chief working on this ship.”
“Well, he’s otherwise occupied right now.”
“I know. So’s Boomer. As usual.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”
“Don’t start that with me, Cally. You know. Frak, everyone on the flight deck knows. Most everyone on Galactica knows.”
“Look, Lieutenant. We just don’t go there. Understand?”
“I understand. Frak, I don’t mind, except how stupid they think I am when they make those excuses to me. Manifest reviews? Repair log inventories?”
“Yeah, well, it’s just. . . well. . . it doesn’t go anywhere else. You know, sir, er, Crash?”
“I know. I won’t go ratting them out to Colonel Tigh, not that he probably doesn’t already have an idea what’s going on. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing they’d stop with the stupid stories.”
“Sir, er, Crash? Did they really use repair log inventories as an excuse with you?”
“Yep. That was yesterday. Can you believe it?”
“Could you take this for me? I sure can believe it. Last week I heard that Lieutenant Valerii told Socinus that they needed to revise the emergency procedures on hull breaches so they turfed him out of the storeroom for an hour.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Though since we had those water tanks blow, it would be reassuring to have someone actually check the hull breach protocols or whatever.”
“Brrrr. Yes. Things just keep on being too scary. You know, if I didn’t already say thank you for finding us that new source of water, I should.”
“It’s okay. You were kinda busy after that what with the Astral Queen and all.”
“Yeah. Don’t really want to think about that again, sir.”
“Frak. Sorry, Cally. I shoulda thought. Here, you’re going to need this to test the current flow.”
“Thanks, sir.”
“Not helping, am I?”
“No, sir. You’re helping. It’s just. . . .”
“Things are harder now.”
“Yes.”
“And they aren’t getting any easier. You know, I thought when we stopped those jumps every thirty-three minutes that things would ease up but they haven’t.”
“Sometimes I don’t think they ever will sir, er, Crash.”
“Me neither. I have dreams. . . .”
“We all have dreams. Mostly bad ones.”
“That’s for certain.”
“Could you take this?”
“Sure. Almost done there?”
“Just about. Could you power up the secondary panel over there and we’ll see if it works.”
“All right. Just let me move over to my station.”
“Sure. Let me know when it’s powered up.”
“There. Is it working?”
“Yes. Green lights across the board!”
“Great! Now let’s see if this makes our next landing any easier.”
“Hah! You think? Oh! I shouldn’t have said that, sir.”
“What’d I say? Stop with the sir. Please.”
“Okay, Crash. I’ll try to remember.”
“I think I see Nipper. He’s the older guy, right?”
“Round-faced, kind of balding?”
“Hey! Some of us guys are sensitive about our hair or lack of it.”
“Really? I’m so sorry!”
“Gotcha.”
“Oh, great. More wacky pilots. That’s all I need.”
“We’re not all that bad, specialist.”
“Who? ‘Us guys’ or pilots?”
“Low blow.”
“Heh. Anyway, if I’m not supposed to call you sir, you shouldn’t call me specialist. Fair’s fair, right?”
“Right, Cally, but your Nipper buddy’s nearly here.”
“Figures. Work’s done so he’s back. Well, anyway, just hand me the clip. I can get this snapped back into place and then I’ll just need. . . . Thanks!”
“You’re welcome.”
“I am. Well. . . .”
“Well. . . .”
“Look, sir, Crash. This’s been fun but someone’s going to bust my butt if I don’t get back to work. I have a list as long as my arm of repairs to finish before the end of the shift.”
“And now that you’ve got our Raptor back up and running, I expect I’ll be back on CAP in, oh, four hours.”
“So. Good luck, Crash.”
“Yeah. Good luck, Cally. And thanks.”
“For fixing your ship? That’s my job.”
“No, for taking the time to talk with me. Some days it’s easy to forget we’re humans out here, the way the work never stops.”
“I hope we never forget.”
“So do I.”
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Speaking can be revealing. Set early in S1.
Note: This was written for the BSG Secondary Characters Ficathon for melek_naz and posted woefully late -- I just overlooked this sitting in my Fic folder since December. Requirements: Crash, Cally, Banter; no babies, no fluff. The format is dialogue only -- that choice was mine. I know. Weird.
“Need a hand?”
“Wha-? Frak!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You were just reaching for that tool.”
“Well, you could hand it to me, Nipper!”
“Sure, um, but I’m not Nipper.”
“Who. . . awww, frak, sorry, sir.”
“No, no, don’t get up, specialist. Cally, right?”
“Right, sir. Thank you, sir. I’m fine now, sir. Um, which sir is it?”
“You’re working on my ship. Does that help?”
“Well, you’re not Lt. Valerii, so you must be. . . .”
“Call me Crashdown.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It’s just hard remembering with everything, sir. I apologize, sir.”
“Come off it! Look, call me Crash. Everyone else does.”
“Ummm, thank you, sir, but, could I just get back to work now? This panel isn’t going to fix itself.”
“Let me hand you the tools while you do that, you’re going to need some help if you’re replacing the leads.”
“You don’t have to, sir.”
“Stop calling me sir, Specialist. Or I’ll start calling you. . . what’s Cally short for, anyway?”
“It’s not important, sir, erm, I mean Crash. Frak!”
“Here, why don’t you pass me the panel cover so your hands are free.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do, sir, erm, Crash. And Nipper’ll be back soon. It’s his job.”
“Well, I saw the CAG call Nipper over to check out his Viper, so I don’t think he’ll be back here anytime soon. And I can’t go on CAP until this Raptor’s back up in the air, so why don’t I lend a hand?”
“Um, okay. Thanks. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Need a screwdriver?”
“Yes, thanks. I’ve got to get to the conduit, here. There! Can I pass the clip over to you?”
“Sure. So, funny to see anyone else but the Chief working on this ship.”
“Well, he’s otherwise occupied right now.”
“I know. So’s Boomer. As usual.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”
“Don’t start that with me, Cally. You know. Frak, everyone on the flight deck knows. Most everyone on Galactica knows.”
“Look, Lieutenant. We just don’t go there. Understand?”
“I understand. Frak, I don’t mind, except how stupid they think I am when they make those excuses to me. Manifest reviews? Repair log inventories?”
“Yeah, well, it’s just. . . well. . . it doesn’t go anywhere else. You know, sir, er, Crash?”
“I know. I won’t go ratting them out to Colonel Tigh, not that he probably doesn’t already have an idea what’s going on. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing they’d stop with the stupid stories.”
“Sir, er, Crash? Did they really use repair log inventories as an excuse with you?”
“Yep. That was yesterday. Can you believe it?”
“Could you take this for me? I sure can believe it. Last week I heard that Lieutenant Valerii told Socinus that they needed to revise the emergency procedures on hull breaches so they turfed him out of the storeroom for an hour.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Though since we had those water tanks blow, it would be reassuring to have someone actually check the hull breach protocols or whatever.”
“Brrrr. Yes. Things just keep on being too scary. You know, if I didn’t already say thank you for finding us that new source of water, I should.”
“It’s okay. You were kinda busy after that what with the Astral Queen and all.”
“Yeah. Don’t really want to think about that again, sir.”
“Frak. Sorry, Cally. I shoulda thought. Here, you’re going to need this to test the current flow.”
“Thanks, sir.”
“Not helping, am I?”
“No, sir. You’re helping. It’s just. . . .”
“Things are harder now.”
“Yes.”
“And they aren’t getting any easier. You know, I thought when we stopped those jumps every thirty-three minutes that things would ease up but they haven’t.”
“Sometimes I don’t think they ever will sir, er, Crash.”
“Me neither. I have dreams. . . .”
“We all have dreams. Mostly bad ones.”
“That’s for certain.”
“Could you take this?”
“Sure. Almost done there?”
“Just about. Could you power up the secondary panel over there and we’ll see if it works.”
“All right. Just let me move over to my station.”
“Sure. Let me know when it’s powered up.”
“There. Is it working?”
“Yes. Green lights across the board!”
“Great! Now let’s see if this makes our next landing any easier.”
“Hah! You think? Oh! I shouldn’t have said that, sir.”
“What’d I say? Stop with the sir. Please.”
“Okay, Crash. I’ll try to remember.”
“I think I see Nipper. He’s the older guy, right?”
“Round-faced, kind of balding?”
“Hey! Some of us guys are sensitive about our hair or lack of it.”
“Really? I’m so sorry!”
“Gotcha.”
“Oh, great. More wacky pilots. That’s all I need.”
“We’re not all that bad, specialist.”
“Who? ‘Us guys’ or pilots?”
“Low blow.”
“Heh. Anyway, if I’m not supposed to call you sir, you shouldn’t call me specialist. Fair’s fair, right?”
“Right, Cally, but your Nipper buddy’s nearly here.”
“Figures. Work’s done so he’s back. Well, anyway, just hand me the clip. I can get this snapped back into place and then I’ll just need. . . . Thanks!”
“You’re welcome.”
“I am. Well. . . .”
“Well. . . .”
“Look, sir, Crash. This’s been fun but someone’s going to bust my butt if I don’t get back to work. I have a list as long as my arm of repairs to finish before the end of the shift.”
“And now that you’ve got our Raptor back up and running, I expect I’ll be back on CAP in, oh, four hours.”
“So. Good luck, Crash.”
“Yeah. Good luck, Cally. And thanks.”
“For fixing your ship? That’s my job.”
“No, for taking the time to talk with me. Some days it’s easy to forget we’re humans out here, the way the work never stops.”
“I hope we never forget.”
“So do I.”