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What say you?

Posted on Fri Jun 12th, 2020 @ 6:38pm by Dr. Moira Dun & Ayla Seton

Mission: Mission 1: Gearing Up
Location: Geronimo: Forward Lounge
Timeline: Directly after "Shopping"

When it came right down to things, Ayla had been expecting a much easier, more normal job when she'd accepted the offer from Captain Stanton. And it pretty much had been. She'd been doing some thinking and pondering over the past little few, wondering just when this seemingly normal ship had taken such a turn. Had it been when fancy pants had approached her outside the Geronimo? Or was it the incident with the gorram pilot?

Either way, it was all done now and she wasn't planning on going anywhere. The ship was the safest place she could be, and being out in the black was much better than being tied to a rock.

Such were some of the thoughts Ayla had while she found herself settling into a chair in the forward lounge. She was playing with herself, making herself believe that the tile she'd swiped from Tobias didn't mean a thing. But deep in her gut Ayla knew differently and pondering over all the other stuff kept such thoughts from creeping and taking over. So she kicked back, slouching down in her seat and propping booted feet up on the table.

After Moira returned from the surface - from her little shopping trip with Max - she immediately made her way to the infirmary. Who cares if she, as a passenger, probably should stay in the passenger area - her patient was in there. For everything else you might say about Moira, nobody could call her a uncommitted about her job, even if nobody quite knew what that job was yet. But still, Moira paused outside the infirmary. It still felt weird to go in without permission. Wondering whether she could still count on her position as a passenger here made her feel a bit uneasy. She was a doctor, yes, but who was paying for her services? She preferred not to work for free after all. Would this woman have money to pay? Would the Captain even let this woman keep that money? Moira didn't exactly have high expectations about the Captain's moral and legal status here. Would the Captain be offended that Moira treated his enemy? Or would be suspicious about Moira's own life... she simply didn't know and not knowing, well, that scared her.

Instead of just waltzing in to the infirmary, Moira simply glanced in, rising up to her tiptoes to get a better look at the vitals monitors screen in the room. Satisfied, she sighed and took a few steps back, taking in the rest of her surroundings. Only then did she notice that the forward lounge was occupied.

Ayla hadn't been so lost in her inner ponderings that she failed to realized that she wasn't fully alone. Not that she had been fully alone to begin with, not with the patient still occupying the infirmary. She let her had fall back on her shoulders and let out an exasperated sigh. Clearly this ship was a bit more problematic than she had hoped, but she was here now and well, it beat searching out a new one.

What was she even doing here? Her bunk wouldn't have offered much more privacy and that door she could lock. But wasn't she supposed to be a bit more people-ly now?

Leaning forward to peer out the open hatch, blue eyes landed on Moira. Ayla wouldn't go so far as to call the other woman a friend, at least not yet, but they had certainly chatted quite a bit. And, she didn't feel the desire to shoot her, so that was a plus. Moira was different. Ayla kinda, sorta liked her, too. Since she was all for being honest with herself. "Heya."

"Hey," Moira repeated, relaxing a little bit when she saw that the lounge's occupant was Ayla. This greeting was a touch more casual than some of her previous ones; and that wasn't on purpose. Maybe out of everyone on the ship, her subconscious was just a more comfortable around Ayla.

"Mind if I join you?" the woman asked, taking a few steps towards the forward lounge and looking around. She hadn't been in this room before, and to be honest, she wasn't entire sure what it was. "Been a long day," she added. That was true... would Ayla know about what happened earlier on the ship? Well, if anyone did, it would be Ayla, right? Moira gave a faint smile, more shy than anything else.

Her answer came by way of a light shake of her dark head. She didn’t mind if Moira joined her, and if she was being honest with herself, she actually welcomed it. Which, was odd considering. Normally she didn’t take to trusting someone as easily as she had the other woman, but there was just something about her that Ayla liked.

“Yeahhhh.” She responded, tiredly dragging the word out, “You a’ight?” Ayla focused a curious gaze on Moira.

"Well, I'm not shot, so that's better than some folk on this ship." Moira said with it such bluntness that it bordered between comedy and shock. After she spoke, the petite woman made her way to a chair, and dusted off the seat with her hand before sitting down. "What about you? And what happened to that male passenger?" She added the last part on a whim, wondering if Ayla knew about his fate. After all, Moira hadn't really stayed around to watch the fallout of whatever had happened earlier. She was just glad the power was back on, and glad to have a real chair to sit on.

Ayla snorted, the sound barely audible but clearly unmistakeable. “She had it comin’.” She definitely could appreciate Moira’s bluntness, if fact she rather preferred it over someone beating around the proverbial bush. There was no telling just how far Millie, or Tobias really, had been planning to go. And what was up with him being one of mister fancy-pants’ agents? Really?

She shrugged, “Peachy keen. Let him go.” Because what other choice had she had. “Didn’t hurt him or shoot him, if that’s what you’re askin’. Did keep his fancy shoes, though.” Ayla paused a quick beat, “How’s the patient?”

"She'll pull through," Moira said with a faint shrug, allowing herself to slide a bit further into the chair, losing some of her stiff, formal posture. So the other passenger was gone, huh? "She's probably going to wake up soon. I don't know to do with her then," the doctor admitted - then again, why should she know? Her job was only to save the woman's life, nothing more.

Did she have it coming, though? Moira didn't know if anybody quite deserved being shot. Only in self defense was it excusable, and even then harsh. Nobody deserved death, in her mind, nor an injury that might threaten their life.

“Cap’n’ll decide.” Simple answer to Moira’s question. If it was her, there would be questions asked once Millie woke, but Ayla wasn’t too sure about Clayton just yet. Sure he’d helped her out back on Albion and given her a job, but he hadn’t been too open about the tile she had been instructed to give. A twin to the one she had tucked away in her bunk, the one she had pulled from Tobias’s pocket.

Her blue gaze settled on the other woman, noting the way she was slumped in the chair and wondering what sort of picture the two of them made seated like they each were. But there was a question itching to be asked.

“How’d you know what to do for her?” How’d Moira know what to do with such a wound?

"Oh, you know~" Moira started. Her eyes darted open at the question she had been both expecting it and fearing it. Previously she had thought about mentioning her time in Alliance - after all, an old Alliance soldier with some medical experience retiring into the country wouldn't too far from what she really was. But based on this crew, she wasn't sure that was the best solution. The woman frowned, realizing it had already been a long moment since she had spoken. Did that make her look more suspicious. "I've had some training. I used to work in a hospital, back on Londinium." Then again - how much did she want to tell Ayla? Wouldn't it be nice to have at least one person who knew everything? One person she didn't have to act around... but no. That was a slippery slope.

She kept her gaze on Moira, sincerely hoping the other woman decided to open up and not try to lie. Ayla had come to like her and thought that they might even consider one another friends eventually. Sure they were both on the ship, but it didn't have to be just that. Sure, there were things everyone liked to keep tucked away nice and neat and close to their chests, but sometimes things needed saying. "Oh? Oh." Ayla pondered over the answer, rolling it around in her head. Training. That was interesting. And it explained how Moira knew what to do. "Training, huh. That's good to know. I think if'n somethin' were to happen I'd like you to be the one fixin' me up."

Frankly, Moira wouldn't trust any of the other crew members here to work in the infirmary, so she shared the sentiment of wanting Moira to be the one fixing people up. She frowned and glanced away as Ayla initially spoke with some uncertainty. Please she thought to herself - please trust me. Not that she really deserved to be trusted, but well, nothing she had was an outright lie. Yes; it was true she had some training, if you could call medical school training. And she certainly had worked in a hospital on Londinium - in a residency.

"What about you? Where did you learn to shoot?" Moira asked, trying to move the conversation away from herself while keeping in the same vein. She was a bit curious about the answer as well; Moira had learned to shoot back on her farm, and most of her friends that could shoot learned it in the Alliance, but Ayla didn't strike her as the farmer or the Alliance sort.

It was fair, she guessed. Turn about and all that since Ayla had just asked Moira somewhat of a personal question. As the other woman turned away, she distracted herself by picking up a strand of her hair, inspecting the end of it like it held all the answers in the verse. But it didn’t. And neither did she. She could however answer honestly, which is what she tended to do, “On my last ship.” Ayla swallowed past the small lump in the throat, dropping her hair and rubbing a palm across her thigh as if she was trying to wipe something away. “They taught me. And a few other things, nuttin’ much really exceptin’ a few fightin’ moves.” By fighting moves, she meant defensive.

In a way it had been their way of protecting the young woman as best they could, teaching her how to shoot. Ayla had liked it, liked the way it had made her feel...like she was in control of something in her life for once. And then it had all been tossed aside, she’d been tossed aside when the new gorram owner of the Plymouth had gotten handsy. Story of her life it seemed, and why she tended to stay on the move and not settle somewhere on some rock.

“You gonna stay, after all the...ya know?”

Moira shrugged. In all honestly, she didn't know where else go to... but a part of her (not the sensible part) kind of enjoyed the danger here. She hadn't felt this alive in years - not even in surgery. Was it wrong for her to chase that emotion? Shouldn't she be wanting security, a little farm, a good life, instead? Or maybe she was just scared of settling down. Either way, the thought of ending her journey so soon - that terrified her. She was indecisive here, and the best indecision she could make would be to stay.

"Probably, I guess. I don't know where else to go. If people keep getting shot though, the Captain might have to give me a job here," Moira laughed. That... was a joke right? Or were people actually going to get shot that much. Oh well... wouldn't be the first bullet wounds Moira had treated. "Are you staying?" The woman asked.

Ayla wasn’t a bit surprised when Moira shrugged and took a few moments to answer the question. Given what the ship, what they, had been through thinking over such a life decision was needed. She had thought about it herself. Briefly. Being on a ship, out in the black was what she preferred. Up until recently she hadn’t had a lick of trouble, not until Albion. One place she never wanted to return. And searching for a new ship was just a waste of time, besides, she was intrigued by a certain object she’d taken from Tobias and it’s connection to the captain.

Her gaze turned back to Moira as Ayla snorted, “Yeah. Done a bit of patching up, haven’t ya.”Ayla kicked her legs back up the table, “I’d rather not have to find another job. This one’s sorta growin’ on me. I’ll try not to get shot, if that helps.”

Finding another job. Moira had almost forgotten how much of a pain that was; it brought back memories of the early days of undergrad, back before she signed on, when she was trying to scrape enough credits up for tuition. She had taken some odd jobs them. Some of them gave her interested stories, some brought only nostalgic shame. Still, she hadn't really concerned herself with finding a job since them. The military gave her little option, and there were few enough doctors of her training out in the 'verse.

"And one less person to patch up would be ideal. I'd appreciate you not getting shot," Moira said with an amused grin. "Though I am honestly curious. I haven't talked to the Captain in a while, and I'm not sure about my... position here on the ship. Considering the work and supplies I contributed to his problem," Moira glanced towards the infirmary, where the lady still lay, "I think I am owed some compensation... perhaps it can come out of my fare? And if he makes a habit of shooting people, he might as well sign me on a crew." Moira said that last part with a joking smile, but she wasn't entirely joking. It would be something to do, at least, until she faced the fact that she needed to settle down.

“Can’t make no promises, though. But I honestly prefer to not get shot. Ain’t never been before and don’t wanna.” She had a few scars, been treated for a few knife wounds, but luckily Ayla had never been shot nor had any sort of life threatening injury. And it wasn’t something of the sort she was looking to remedy either.

Ayla chewed at the corner of her lip. Moira had a point, quite honestly. She had treated Millie, fixed and stitched the red-headed lady up right nice. “You got a point there.” Ayla started, “You wantin’ to be compensated or a job? We can go to the Cap’n and get you hired on, I’ll put in a good word for ya, too.” Honestly, Ayla didn’t want the other woman to leave. It was nice to have someone to chat with, someone that might be a friend one day.

Moira shrugged. She wasn't quite sure about the whole "we can go to the Cap'n and get you hired on." She had grown used to the tediousness and bureaucracy of job applications in the Core, then the bureaucracy of the military. This almost seemed too simple, to just go talk to him - so simple, in fact, that it was alien.

"I probably should go talk to him about that... but I wouldn't know where to begin!" Moira didn't even have to pretend to naive in this part. This here was the familiar stress of claiming a job that she had grown so used to back in college. The strange familiarity of that made her grin a bit, though her grin might be a touch out of place. "After all, I don't really have much experience with ships and... well, you know."

Ayla shrugged. It'd been simple and almost too easy when Captain Stanton had offered her a job, she hadn't had to ask. "Just...straightforward and all honest-like. Kinda get the feelin' he prefers such." She paused briefly, "I'd like you to stay." Not that she had any sort of say so.

"But I bet you can learn, right?"

Straightforward and honest-like. Well... shoot. Moira frankly didn't even know where to begin. She wasn't one to lie, but how would she be "honest" without raising suspicion? She had grown used to all the white lies and pleasantries of the Core planets, all the politics of college and the bureaucracy of the military - she barely remembered the honest Moira, the one that used to live back on the farm. Then again - maybe Moira never was really honest. Maybe back then, she just had nothing to hide. The woman frowned, just a bit, worried about that thought, about anything that might tarnish the idealization of her past.

"I'd like to stay too," Moira said, and that part wasn't a lie. Ayla was nice. She liked the ship well enough - it felt like a home more than a vessel. The captain still frightened her, but all the potential adventures of working on a ship like this, well, that excited her more than she'd care to admit. "I just, well, I don't think I left a good impression on the Captain."

She snorted, "Don't rightly know how to tell if'n anyone's made a good impression on him." Captain Stanton seemed to keep to himself, all stoic and that don't talk to me vibe that Ayla could appreciate. "Like I said. I can go with, if need be."

"I'd appreciate that," Moira responded with a shy smile. She didn't have to fake that, either. "And you seem to know him better than I do. Do you want to come get me from my room next time he's free... and in a good mood?"

Ayla returned the smile, liking the way it didn't feel forced, "I can do that, yeah. Not so sure he's ever truly in a good mood, but we can aim for one where he ain't wantin' to shoot anybody."

"Thanks." Moira paused for a moment. She never liked asking favors of others. As much as she appreciated this from the woman, it felt awkward asking about it, and even more so just standing. The doctor glanced at the door. "I better go check up on that patient now." She excused herself.

 

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