An Empty Bed
An Empty Bed
Arc: Cole's Gone
Summary: Several pilots visit Phillip in medbay concerned about the Cole would should also be here.
Date: 2659.246
Related Logs: Last Ride of a Sabre Pilot
Participants: Paz, Phillip, Foster, James

Phillip is laid in one of many beds in medical. He is awake, alert, and with a look of sullenness and annoyness on his face.

Yet another near all-nighter in sickbay. What fun! Paz sighs, going over the duty roster for the morning's CAP. Between injuries and increasingly balky equipment, there's not a lot to work with. One of the nurses gives the Minutemen’s recently frocked CO a sympathetic little smile and passes her a cup of coffee. Thus putting herself in line for a complimentary hand job at the end of her shift, should she care for one. "What are you looking so damn chipper about?" Paz inquires of Phillip, sipping at her brew. "You don't have to slog through all /this/ shit."

"Huh?" Phillip says turning his head to Paz. Apparently the Lt. had been a little lost in thought regarding the recent clusterfuck and loss of Cole. "Sorry sir, last night just really left me feeling empty."

James had just gotten back from a patrol and decided to visit Phillip. He enters the medbay with something that looks like toast in one hand. After quietly asking where his comrade is he makes his way back to the indicated bed.

"Huh…Tell me about it." Paz replies, taking another sip from her coffee as she completes her roster, sending the data to Flight Control with a stroke of her thumb. "The squad's pretty pissed off about what went down." she understates. "Got 'em talked down, but it was a near thing." she notes. She's about to go into further detail about her conversation with Taylor, but, thankfully, Cutlass' advent gives her a few more minute's grace. "Hey, Cutlass. How was the CAP?"

Iceblade looks into Paz's eyes with a probing stare and asks her straight out. "Is it confirmed then?"

He's not usually the person who listens much to what's being said, unless it's confirmed in some way. But he heard something about some people ending up here, and so Foster's made his way down here, to try to find out what's happened. Stepping inside the medical bay now, he doesn't say anything yet, just looking around at the people present.

James replies "No sign of any enemy fighters. Unfortunately I somehow doubt that's really a good thing given what happened yesterday."

"Nothing's official yet." Paz says, heaving a little sigh. "Taylor told me last night that they found a wrecked Sabre that had evidence of an ejection. They were sending out a SAR unit to pick up the remains and all the rest of it. Imagine they're analyzing it now." she says simply, taking another huge spritz of coffee. "That's all the news that's fit to print." she says simply, giving a weary shrug. "Heh, yeah, they probably spent most of last night in the club celebrating their victory." she snerks to James.

Phillip nods and face forward again. He gives a half-hearted and brief chuckle at Paz's sarcastic "joke."

"What… happened?" Foster offers a bit quietly after a few moments. Staying quiet as he remains by the wall for now, listening for an answer.

"Some jackass upstairs decided to send the most pathetic little strike package I've ever heard of against three enemy capships." Paz all but snarls, polishing off her coffee and tossing the empty cup in the closest trash can with the violence of long pent-up nerves. "Needless to say, we got slaughtered. Lost three Sabre jockeys, and Cole's ship is missing and presumed lost." she says, "It was a bad night to be on our team, Gambit." she says flatly. "If it's any consolation, the new WinCo's about as pissed about it as I am."

Phillip shakes his head trying to retrieve some memories of the battle, but it's like trying to remember a dream. "God, I can't even remember what happened," Phillip says exasperated.
James nods tiredly as he chews on some more of his breakfast. "I think in many ways I would prefer not to." His tone grim.

Foster frowns a little bit as he hears that. "Well, the WinCo better be pissed about such a thing," he offers after a few moments of pause. "Whatever possessed them to send in so few?"

Paz gives an eloquent shrug in reply to Foster's query. "Shit stupid or insanely desperate?" she says at length. "Either way, we wind up at the same place." she sighs.

Speaking of the devil, the WingCo walks into the medbay and walks around amongst the beds of wounded pilots giving a few whispered words of encouragement or something similar to each of them.

Phillip just sits quietly. Lost in thought again.

"Sounds like…" Foster begins, trailing off a bit as he sees the WingCo walking in. Going quiet at the moment.

Paz turns her head in the direction of Taylor, but doesn't say anything just yet, waiting for the senior officer to make the first move.

Wing Commander Taylor then heads in the direction of Phillip's bed and looks toward Paz first as he approaches. His expression is managed giving off no sign of emotion but the impression it gives is not off-putting or stern, just very neutral. He gives her a nod. "Captain, how is your squadron doing?" he asks at a low but audible volume.

Foster remains quiet for the moment, looking between the others as he listens to what's being said now.

"Well, sir, we're in moderately poor shape." Paz replies, hauling herself to her feet. "I'm estimating that, including Ice here." she says, gesturing towards Phillip. "Between personnel casualties and mechanical casualties, we're at about fifty two, fifty three percent." she reports simply. "What's the word on Major Cole, sir?" she inquires, already dreading the answer.

"It looks hopeful," Taylor responds before adding, "if getting captured by the cats or pirates is a better fate than death." He squints his eyes a little at Paz to gauge her reaction. "Captain, let me be honest with you, we can't be certain if he is still alive but we do know somebody ejected without a trace."

Foster grimaces momentarily as he listens to what's being said at the moment, watching Taylor and Paz rather intently for the moment.

James offers a salute to the Wing Commander as he approaches barely remembering to switch the toast to his other hand but remains silent for now.

Paz nods slowly. "Yes, sir. It's not a negative or a minus." she replies, bobbing her head a little. "How's the Cats taking it?" she inquires.

"No obvious reaction. Their patrols and ships seem to be as scarce as they have been or just sitting out at the jumppoint. There is definitely something in this system they want to protect badly for them to not blindly attempt to finish us off," Taylor replies.

"Interesting," Foster replies as he hears that. He might not have realized that he's spoken out loud, though. At least not by his expression.

"Sounds that way, sir." Paz replies, nodding slowly. "Question is, what?" she inquires. "Do the Intel pukes have any clues, sir? About time those paper-pushers earned their keep." she snerks. "Oh, and here's a question, that Marine just transferred in before we shipped out. The female? Is she really who I think she is, or am I suffering from combat fatigue?"

"I think it is still up in the air what the cats have going around here or what they might do, but my gut feeling, Captain," Taylor admits, "is that the cats are awaiting for reinforcements and they are closing in fast." Taylor narrows his eyes trying to figure what Paz is talking about, "Captain, I have no idea who you are referring to, so just spit it out."

Foster pauses for a few moments as he hears Paz. "Who?" he asks, after a few moments of pause.

"That DeVriess chica." Paz explains. "Surely not one of /those/ DeVriesses? I mean……I thought they sent people out to fight in their stead for fear of being thrown off their lands and being rendered unable to make a living/"

"The DeVriesses? Never heard of them nor do I care. She is just another marine as far I'm concerned, and I'll rep-pre-mand her as I would any lower rank for using connections to get their way around here," Taylor replies.

James looks at Paz and says, "Ok I'm guessing you read some history book I haven't but even so why be so surprised that some descendent of them is different from the ones in the textbook?"

Foster just shrugs as he listens now. "I should go get some rest before it's my turn out there," he offers a bit quietly, before making his way out of the room.

Phillip has been half-listening, half-remembering, and half-depressed - yes Phillip is less than the sum of his parts right now. He snaps out of his rather negative state to wish Foster luck before turning his attention back to Tizona and Meat Grinder.

Paz chuckles and shakes her head a little. "Colonel, the five times I've dealt with her, she's acted like she'd have a heart attack if I cut a loud fart." Paz hoots softly, shaking her head a little. "But, since the topic's come up, I've got something I'd like to discuss with you, sir. When you've got the time." she says, then chuckles a little. "Sometime next century, at the pace we're on." she jibes. "I'm surprised to find one of the Lace Panty Brigade wearing Confed Green, Cutlass." she points out. "The word 'incongruity' comes to mind." she says, smirking a little. "We've got a library on board, look it up sometime." she teases.

James shrugs "I will if I remember when things calm down enough for us to be issued enough time off to do some heavy screen reading. It's much easier to remember where you are with a real book. Not to mention they don't need time to power on"

"Oh when I've got the time, is after the war too soon, Captain," Taylor jokes some deadpannedly, but remains quiet at the mention of Confed Green and Lace Panty Brigade. "Captain Rodriguez, I'll see you in my office at 2200 hours. Now if you'll excuse me, I got've a fighter wing to manage." Taylor then adds before turning to go, "Before I forget, Lt. Bradford, I reviewed the footage of the action last night. There was nothing any of the three of you could do with the flak that heavy. So snap out it! You lived, you'll heal, and you'll kill more cats the next time." Taylor then turns around heading straight for the door.

"Be there with bells on, Colonel." Paz replies and smiles a little as she watches Taylor exit. "I think, my friends, that we're in pretty fucking good hands." she says, nodding a little. "And /you/." she says, turning her eyes to Phillip. "Don't get too comfy in here, you read me?" she smirks. "Yes, I know, the drugs are /awesome/, the nurses are /cute/, and you get sponge baths now and then." she grins, then chuckles. "A little more awkward for me than you, probably." she snerks. "But I've got a squad's damn near on the edge of falling /apart/. Don't tarry longer than you have to, Ice. Don't bail outta here before they clear you for duty." she adds quickly, arcing an eyebrow up. "And I know /all/ the tricks, so don't try them." she notes. "Just get /better/."

The near military order-like nature of Taylor's tone helped snap Phillip out of the saddened state he was in before. Phillip then turns to Paz, and gives her a weak smile and quick nod of understanding. "Understood, and maybe Cole is still alive. He doesn't go down easy, right?

“/None/ of us go down easy, Bradford." Paz replies sharply. "You included. Anyhow, it's been real, and it's been fun, but, sad to say, work must intrude." she says, rolling her eyes a little. "I've got four already pissed-off techs to inform that we don't have anymore whatchamajiggers, so they're gonna have to make do. Remind me to send 'Tori a seriously swift kick in the ass for saddling me with shit." she says, sighing as she gathers herself up. "Rest and get /better/." she says firmly, gripping your shoulder. "I've got a crazy-ass idea that just might help us out when you're ready."

Phillip nods and says as Paz prepares to leave, "You'll have to tell me about this idea sometime. Good luck." Phillip then waves her goodbye and decides sleep is something he could really use right now.

Paz returns the wave and then makes for the exit, but not in the expected direction. She's not headed for the Briefing Room. She's headed somewhere else….Green stripe….Intel???