InsaneJournal

Damaged parts
It was the late in the ship's day aboard Avalon, and work was done for now for one Jake Mackenzie.

The young Colonel hadn't had a chance to exercise in the morning due to a meeting first thing with some of the Captains of the industrial ships in the fleet about the material and parts needed for the repair of the destroyer Brownlee, and he was making up for it in the evening now that he finally had some free time. Two laps around the central corridor of the ship was just a bit over four miles, and he added a fifth by taking a lap around the upper causeway of the hanger deck.

The deck was somewhat back to normal now several days after the Cylon attack. Most of the damage had been repaired and debris cleared away, and operations had resumed their normal tempo. The sounds heard on a hanger deck were soothing to Jake, having spent most of his adult life as a combat pilot aboard battlestars, and the sights were familar friends.

Except for one ship that he couldn't recall seeing before. It was definitely a civilian ship, and it had him curious. Jake slowed to a walk as he finished his run and started the cool down. He'd have to go down and investigate, indulge his curiosity.

Rank had its privileges, after all.


"Damn! That would explain the feeling I had when I took off," Anika scowled, hands on hips as she stood looking at the bent control rod of one of her ship's forward thruster nozzles. "And I bet I know just who did this too," she added in a low growl. "Is there any way it can be jury-rigged, so I can get back to Shangri-la?" she asked the tech holding the rod. She was doing a good job of hiding her inherent wariness at being on board one of the battlestars, but was casting a quick glance around her every so often, anyone who might have been observing for any length of time likely to notice her doing it. She didn't like coming to the realm of the military at the best of times but this was such that she was almost having to fight down a panic attack, something she'd not had for a long time, and wasn't in a hurry to go through again. Breathe, Niki, breath, steady and slow, that's the way.

"I could make a jurry rig but there's no guarantee it would hold past launching," the tech replied regretfully with a shake of her head. "If I let you go out with that and it went in mid flight you could flatten yourself against another ship killing more than just yourself. Let me see if I can get the machine shop to fix you up with a replacement part, OK? It shouldn't take em' more than fifteen-twenty minutes if they've got the right metal."

Now that he'd finished his cool down, Jake descended the ladder onto the main level of the hanger deck from the upper causeway to get a closer look at that exotic looking civilian ship. The ship wasn't very big, roughly the size of a Raptor, but it had sleek lines and a look about it that suggested it was built for speed. Definitely not your typical cargo shuttle.

Nor was the pilot your typical 'bus driver'. He spotted Anika Jereldsen, one of the civilian pilots from Shangri-La standing next to the craft along with one of the technicians on the deck crew for this watch. They both were looking at a bent control rod held in the technician’s hands and Jake noticed the young civilian woman did not look at all happy.

"What's the problem here?" Jake asked curiously, wiping the sweat off his face with his towel as he approached the pair.

Anika hadn't noticed the man approach and she almost jumped when she heard his voice so close. She'd been concentrating on what the tech was saying and biting her lip, hoping beyond hope that the tech was right about getting it fixed so quickly. She spun to face the man, recognising him as one of the officers despite his lack of uniform having seen him a couple of times over the years when she'd been there making a delivery of either passengers or parcels. The tech explained the situation to the colonel, showing him the damaged rod. Anika bit her bottom lip, unaware she was doing it as she glanced past the man at the surrounding deck then back at him again.

They'd never been officially introduced, Anika's visits to military vessels never taking her beyond the hangar deck floor, and her not minding that one bit. Her discomfort around military personnel, men in particular, was something she'd fought to hide the entire time the fleet had been on the move, but seeing the damaged rod and knowing it was probably done on purpose, sabotage something she wasn't about to claim being the reason, she felt a little trapped and was more than a little anxious to be on her way back to Shangri-la. She was already working through how she would be able to prove the damage was intentional and that it was done by the person she suspected back on the freighter, which helped distract her from where she was at that moment.

Jake frowned at the control rod passed to him by the technician. He was an experienced enough pilot to know that this sort of thing didn't 'just happen', but proving it an act of sabotage would be another matter entirely.

"You're lucky you didn't get killed," Jake told her, his tone more of one pilot commiserating to another than one of any sort of judgment. He twirled the part around a few times, inspecting it for any other damage and thinking hard about whether it could be fixed or would it need complete replacement. In the end he sided with the technician, the part would have to be replaced. Until it was the young woman's ship wasn't doing anything but taking up space on his hanger deck.

"Go ahead and send this down to the machine shop," he told the tech. "Tell them I said to make it a priority if they don't have anything urgent for Brownlee's repairs that can't wait. If they do, let me know how long they'll be before they can get to it. If the Chief asks you where you're going send him to me." The technician nodded in understanding and left for the machine shop, leaving him 'alone' with the pretty young woman (he may be a Colonel and over thirty, but he wasn't dead), there being no one else in that part of the deck right then.

He realised she might not know who he was. "I don't think we've been formally introduced," he held out a hand. "I'm Jake Mackenzie, Colonel Mackenzie to the crew." He thought of adding his position as well as his rank, but didn't want to sound as if he were bragging or trying to impress her. If necessary he'd tell her but he was fairly certain most people knew what 'Colonel Mackenzie' did.

"That's a nice looking ship you've got there, Miss Jereldsen," he gestured toward it. "Is she as fast as she looks when she's working properly?"

"Luck had nothing to do with it," she retorted, watching the piece turned over in his hands, eyes darting from him to the tech and back again. She knew it probably had played a part, manouvering her bird into the dock was something that had been a combination of both luck and skill. Anika tossed her head, eyes shifting from the tech as she listened to the man's instructions back to him as she left. Her bristling lessened a little as he complimented her ship.

"Faster, in the right hands," she replied, still feeling uneasy. As he introduced himself she looked down at his hand then back up at him, reluctantly taking it. "Anika Jereldsen, but you seem to already know that," she replied stiffly. Yes they'd had a nodding acquaintance when passing on the hangar deck floor the few times they had over the years, and she'd been told who he was, but she couldn't help feel uneasy that he knew her name. She withdrew her hand, arms folded across her body as she turned so her ship was at her back.

Jake nodded, trying not to take offense at the young woman's body language. Something was obviously bugging her but he had no idea what it was. "It's my job to know about what goes on out there in the fleet, so I can make sure the Admiral doesn't get blindsided. You and your sister have quite the business going, I had to make some inquiries after we left the Colonies when you started making deliveries to the ships in the Strike Group."

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck, "I don't forget pretty faces, sorry."

Since she was obviously so uncomfortable around him he moved a few paces away and closer to the ship to give her space. The ship was beautifully designed, definitely not a typical supply shuttle. "What in the worlds did you do with this thing before the war? Race professionally?"

She pursed her lips as he started to explain, wondering if the 'checking' was more to do with her sister and her being identical twins, and the revelation that the Cylons had created human clones that also were identical. It had given them no end of trouble over the years, but fortunately their history with the Shangri-la and her captain and crew was irrefutable. Though some had still seen that as a potential ruse, and had tried their own methods to find out. One of whom was Anika's main reason for being extremely wary around anyone in the military. Especially in uniform.

Which was why she managed to get herself to at least relax enough to converse with the man in front of her. He wasn't in uniform, the sweat-damped tanks a quasi uniform but still, not the dress-drills.

She noticed him step back and was silently relieved, and a little grateful, but no less on guard. "No," she replied, eyes darting to her ship with no little pride. "Well, not officially," she added, "but yeah, she's fast." She leaned against the hull, drawing comfort from the solidity of the craft at her back.

Jake nodded, examining the way the ship’s reaction thrusters were positioned along the hull. "If I didn't know better I'd say someone who had a hand in designing the MK-VII helped design this baby. Was she part of a line or was she one of a kind?"

He didn't want to try and take it against a Viper MK-VII, but it looked like a fast little ship. "Do you ever just get in and push the throttle to maximum?" It was something he loved to do when he got a chance, just pushing it to the maximum and going to full military power. Sometimes he regretted taking on the Admiral's request that he be her chief of staff, it had taken him out of the cockpit full time and away from doing what he loved the most. "It must be boring just taking it from ship to ship."

If there was one way to get behind Anika's defences it was to talk flying, and not just 'jock talk' but really talk flying, and about the ships. "I don't know who it was, my father had it modded with the help of some friends of his," she finally admitted, albeit a little reluctantly. "He used to use it for his work, but when my mother died he didn't - couldn't, he said - fly it any more." She shrugged a little. "So he gave it to me. I've been flying her ever since." Her hand moved to stroke the curve of the hull as she pushed off from where she'd been leaning against it, almost as if for protection.

"I've opened her up from time to time, cleaned the pipes out," she admitted, "but not so much lately, given the fuel situation. Tends to eat through it a little at max power." She could see he really loved flying, and shrugged at the comment about being bored. "Something's better than being grounded."

"I wouldn't trade my Viper for it, but for a civilian ship she looks like a fast little number." Jake nodded, then patted the hull with one hand and then moved to lean against a nearby equipment chest so he could look at Anika while he talked. "One of these days we might have to have a flight competition, just for the hell of it."

The mention of 'competition' sparked Anika's attention. "Any time," she told him assuredly, leaning back against the hull again, this time a little less tense, but still alert to any movements on or around the hangar deck.

"Your father taught you to fly?" he guessed from the way she talked about him. "Mine did too, even though I had to unlearn a lot of bad habits when I went on the flight school after the academy."

"Yeah, he did," she replied. "Used to sit me on his knee and when I could reach things let me control those while he worked the rest."

"I got started a little later than that, but I always loved flying with dad." he said affectionately, thinking back. "It was the only time I had with him that was just the two of us. No Aides, no phone calls or meetings he had to go to, just us." He remembered the day he'd graduated from flight training, his father had been the one to personally pin the wings on him.

David Mackenzie had been over forty by the time Jake arrived on the scene, and a busy man who'd had to carve out time to spend with his son. A veteran of the Cylon War, David had expected his son to carry on the family tradition of service and Jake had not disappointed him.

"I don't get out there as much as I like to anymore, not since the Admiral tapped me to take over as Chief of Staff back when we left the Colonies." It was clear in his voice how much he enjoyed being a pilot. "But the job needed doing."

"So he was in the military too?" she asked, glad she and her sister had had their father around, and the extended families of both parents. It had been a terrible shock and loss when their mother had died, but the close-knit family unit had closed around them and they'd always had people around who loved them and helped raise them. "It's a pretty demanding world," she added, voice a little lower, the ice beneath it not discernible to ears that were not used to her usual light, laughing tone.

"Yeah, he was. So was my grandfather, and his father, and his father, etcera." Jake didn't quite dismiss it, but it wasn't as important as it was before the war. "You could say I'm following in the family tradition. He retired as Chief of Naval Operations about the same time I entered the service. He'd been in the service for nearly forty years by then, joined up early in the First War and never left."

He nodded in agreement at her words about it being demanding. "It is, but someone's got to do the tough jobs or they won't get done. If they don't get done then the toasters catch us with our pants down..." he shrugged.

"So...Miss Jereldsen," he asked, changing the subject and trying to be a little humorous. "What do you do for fun when you aren't flying? Cards, sports, knitting silk stockings, what?"

The quick change of subject made her hesitate, but then she wasn't exactly that keen on the military and its traditions and inside breathed a sigh of relief the subject was changed. "Fun?" She huffed a laugh. "Plenty of fun things to do on the Shangri-la," she pointed out. "Or over on Babylonia. Do you ever get over to either of those ships? Get some R&R, or are you all work and working out, and no fun and playtime?"

"I have been one of those types," Jake replied, thinking of his wife, Bridget. She had surely died in one of the first attacks, since she'd lived in the city. In the first few years he'd buried himself in his work and dealt with his grief that way. The only friends he had were those aboard this ship and among the other senior officers from the other ships in the Strike Group. "I think I've only been on Shangri-La once outside of official business."

He'd come to the conclusion a few months ago that it was time to move on, to try to live again rather than simply exist. But making that decision and acting on it were two different things. "Maybe it's time I changed that, what do they have to do on Shangri-La? I already know about what Babylonia has to offer if I want to gamble or have a quick frak."

"Well, there's the games decks," she told him, eyes running over his fit physique. "Quite a few Pyramid tournaments have been held over the last year. Teams from locally, on board, or from other ships come in and compete. And there's the racquetball. Also the halodeck for dancing, with a live band regularly. Plus of course for the nature lovers there are the gardens. I'm sure you could meet lots of interesting people if you were to come over sometime."

"Pyramid tournaments huh?" Jake perked up a bit at that. "I was on the academy team back when I was in school, and still play pickup games here and there on ship." He enjoyed the game quite a bit. Gardens could also be a nice change of pace. He had a plant growing under a sun lamp in his stateroom, but it wasn't the same thing.

"I'll have to do that, Miss Jereldsen. I think I will indeed." Her own well curved phsyique hadn't gone unnoticed but she was skittish enough that he tried not to be obvious about it. Who knew what the future held? They might find a planet to settle down on or they could just as easily get wiped out by the cylons.

The technician came back with both the original part and a replacement in her hands. "They were able to get right on it Colonel," she replied with a smile. She knew Bethany and Anika both, had made purchases from their business more than once.

Anika was surprised at how quickly the time had passed when she saw the tech return with the new part. She glanced at the tech and gave her a quick smile, resisting the temptation to take the part and reinstall it herself. "Great! Tell them thanks from me," she asked.

"No problem," Jake assured her, and checked his watch. He grimaced, looking at the time. "I guess I should be going. Paperwork never seems to go away, even when I'm technically off duty. Take care of yourself and that little speed racer of yours, maybe I'll see you over at Shangri-La one of these days."

She nodded, managing not to wrinkle her nose up at the mention of paperwork. "Yeah sure," she answered, giving him the once over again and then turning her attention to the tech. She remained alert to where he was but not for the same reasons as before she hated admitting to herself.

Jake returned the once over with a twinkle in his eye before turning and heading for the ladder back to the upper causeway and eventually his stateroom. Maybe that busted part had done him a favor, time would tell.

Either way, it had been an interesting change from his normal exercise routine.