(no subject)

[hallelujahpilot]

It might only be 0850, but any day where Trudy Chacon has to start with last minute repairs to her Samson is already on notice. The repairs also mean that she can’t go and find whoever it was that gave her only one goddamn gunner.

Not that she has any problem with Corporal Bill Onozuki – he’s an old Pandora hand, and they get along swimmingly. It’s just that there is, well, only one of him.

Which is why when the Ph.D.s find Samson 16 in the hanger, Chacon and Onozuki are fixing the right hand door-gun straight ahead. If things come to it, she can operate it from the cockpit.

(lets just leave aside the fact that she actually finds it fun)

Comments

[hallelujahpilot]

"It's what I do, Doc," Trudy answers, flipping switches and, likewise, it's up to Grace to decide her tone.

"Hey, gonna stay a while?" She asks then, half twisting in her seat.

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Few hours, at least."

Despite the bickering and the way Grace likes to throw her weight around, there's a measure of respect evident in how she works with her crew. They move like a finely tuned machine -- even with Evans -- as they gather their equipment together.

"Why? You gonna miss me?" she grins from over her shoulder.

[hallelujahpilot]

Trudy notices the smoothness of the crew, and appreciates it - there may be hope yet.

(Not that she's going to say any such thing)

At Grace's comment, she smirks. "In your dreams, Doc," she says, and blows the other woman a kiss.

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

She sniggers, throaty and wicked, and in one smooth motion lights the cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth and takes a pull.

"Don't take off without me," she warns on the exhale, that cat-who-ate-the-canary grin materializing as smoke curls around her nostrils.

[hallelujahpilot]

And they were doing so well, too.