Working the Press
Working the Press
Summary: Markovic and Fresca hit the gym. Pickett and Melia stop by.
Date: 2658.007
Related Logs: None

Seeing as how Cap - Major Markovic told her all about the gym and the swimming pool, Fresca decided to come check out the gym and see if she would get kicked out. It's a bit intimidating for the reporter to be honest. There's all these marines and pilots who are in top shape lifting weights and … well, she's not sure she even wants to go get in there with them. She's standing on the upper level, off the track, if just barely, watching everything quietly. Though the camera is with her, it's in its bag, turned off. She murmurs something in Italian, shifting slightly and moving the gym bag she's got so the strap doesn't dig into her shoulder.

Dejana appears at the other end of the track from the stairwell. She's in her sweatpants and an old tanktop, the faded print across the print reading 'TCS Bunker Hill' with a squadron insignia barely still holding on to the cotton. She's putting her hair up into a ponytail as she looks around and spots Fresca. The pilot takes her time meandering over, keeping out of the way of a pair of jogging Marine Sergeants. "Afternoon, Miss DeValeris. I see you have found the gym. Does it smell up to par?" she asks with a wink.

Fresca's return smile is there, though a little bit … weak. She glances around again, before turning back to Marko. "It is definitely up to most gyms I have ever seen, though somewhat crowded. Or so it seems to me." She takes a breath, shifting her gym bag and the camera bag at her shoulder. "I had thought to try to do something, but now that I am here, I find it somewhat overwhelming." And this without that basic training thing, since the brass tacks seem to have forgotten about it.

Dejana's face twists into an easy smile. "Da. The smell in here is enough to make me think it back on Earth. I just wish we could open a window, you know?" she offers with a soft laugh. The Major seems a bit more reserved today but still the same woman nonetheless. "Try something?" She motions to the bag. "Did you want to try getting shots of us working out? I am afraid I do not see what is overwhelming."

That gets a laugh from Fresca, almost reluctantly. "Oh si, but today I actually was hoping to try using some of the equipment. I just do not wish to get run over, if I might put it in polite fashion." She wrinkles her nose and gives a half shrug. "I would expect you would not find this at all overwhelming - it is something you are quite used to, but me? Not at all. Those - " she gestures expansively, though her voice is somewhat lower, - "people out there are all very fit."

"Ahhh." Dejana nods. "Well just butt in. Remember, this is a bunch of military personnel, aye? If they tell you to get off the machine, tell them to wait their turn and then switch out. If they get rude, tell them to fuck off." She shrugs nonchalantly, but there is a sympathetic smile and Dejana moves a bit closer, leaning in a touch with a bowed head. "Fresca, everyone starts somewhere. I am in pretty good shape. I can run with you and stop when you need. No complaints from me. Then maybe later we can get you on some weights if you want to try it?" Her voice is easy and soft, no urging or anger in there. Probably better treatment than Fresca would get from one of the Sergeants.

Oh, there's that basic training threat holding over her head still. Somewhere. She is sure it will come back to haunt her. She swallows a bit, and then says, "And I should have changed on my own, before coming here. But I did not think of it." Then again, she is supposed to be immersed in this place. Another gesture and then she says to Marko, "I have never been much for running, you know. I do not know how far I will get. Usually back home I would dance ballet." Believe it or not. A deep breath and then she says, "But here, running is probably of more use. I - let me get changed, and I will be right back." Though if she's going to the lockers or back to her own small tiny claustrophobic bit of privacy, that's still in question.

Dejana chuckles. "Well you have the camera. I kind of get the idea your intentions were elsewhere, but whatever you prefer to do. I will not push." Yet. "Have you been able to do much filming yet? Or just sort of getting your bearings with our ship, still?" She keeps it conversational, seeming to indicate she can or is willing to walk to Fresca. "Ballet, though? That is beautiful. I was able to the Bolshoi once in Moscow?" She sighs happily. "It was art in motion. Like watching bodies dance in a dream. I could never do it myself but.. I am jealous." She nods her head to the woman, waiting for Fresca to lead off.

"I always have the camera. It is like an appendage, in case I need - but that does not mean it needs to be always turned on," Fresca says, almost apologetically. Seeing as how Marko is willing to come along with her, she sighs a bit, and heads over towards the locker rooms. Course, this will give her a chance to peek in at the pool and see if she's willing to give that a try. It takes a moment for the comment about ballet to sink in and then she shakes her head. "But it is not that I was ever so good - no no, no Bolshoi for me. Else perhaps I would not be a reporter now. So no need to be jealous, si?" She gives a hopeful look to Marko, hoping the other woman isn't planning to be angry or anything.

Dejana nods about the camera. "There.." she begins. Then she stops a moment before continuing. "Let me know when you are filming? A lot of what I say to you may or may not be on the record. I am more just a friend to help you get situated and understand this crazy place. I will do interviews if you like, but let me know if you are filming us privately?" Its a soft, friendly request. There's no hate or apprehension. As for the ballet, she shrugs. "I think the movements are more of what was so striking. You do not have to be the best pilot in the universe to look really good out there. You can still score kills and perform flawless maneuvers without being in the top ten percent. Or even twenty. The beauty of art is the interpretation, no?" Angry? Marko looks as likely to attack a child as Fresca right now.

Fresca blinks and then nods. "Si, I will do so. If the camera is in the bag, it is turned off," she adds, just to give Marko that heads up. "If I take it out, I am usually about to start filming. But I try to remember to ask first." She glances around the locker room briefly, seeing that it is mostly empty at the moment, even though it's got as little privacy to it as the barracks - no private change rooms here. She crosses herself briefly, closing her eyes, and then takes a deep breath before she gets changed as quickly as she can, hoping there's nobody there to care. Once that's done, she turns back to Marko. "Si, it is true. But then there is no reason why you could not take lessons if you so chose," she adds, turning things back around again. "Except there is not likely a teacher out here, is there?" Ah well.

"Noted. I will keep that in mind. Thank you." Dejana's voice is as relaxed as ever by this point. Following Fresca in, she notes the hesitation and smiles. The Major turns around and puts herself between the door and the reporter. A could pilots enter and she gives them the 'Command Stare of Death.' All they manage is a glimpse of Marko before they veer off and away. Far away. "Oh, I could. But I am not limber enough," she offers over her shoulder. Seeing that Fresca has finished, she turns back around and leans on the lockers. "The only teachers you will find out here are flight instructors like myself and some former drill sergeants in the Marines. I do not even think there is a place to go. Wood floors are pretty rare on combat vessels."

Fresca's nod is glum, as she considers that. She's changed into sweat pants of her own, loose fitting, with a t-shirt that has no logo at all on it. She finds a headband to keep her hair out of her face, since at the length it is, and curly, it won't stay in a ponytail easily, if at all. She was determined not to look to see if anyone was watching her, so she didn't notice Marko's protective streak this time. "No, I have not seen any. It could be managed to some degree on the mats, but it is not the same. And I am not a teacher by any means." She finds a secure spot for the gym bag, and then after a thought, the camera too. "I can leave it here, si? And it will be safe?"

"Probably not." Blunt as always. Marko steps across the row of lockers and secures a tall one. "Stick it in here and keep the key. You can grab it when you come back. There are still a lot of nervous ideas about you being on board. People see the camera as a threat to their lives occasionally." Dejana shrugs and motions to follow her back up to the track. "So what kind of questions are you looking to ask in the interview? Are you looking for anything in particular?" She quirks her brow to the other woman.

Fresca considers that question as she locks up the camera, with a silent nod of thanks. The camera is a tool, rather like their weapons and fighter craft are, but that is the point, in large degree. She shrugs a bit - "So, we are jogging?" she asks first, to get that figured out. She'll at least give it a shot. She heads back up to the track, key tucked firmly away where it will be safe in a zip pocket. And then she says, "I am not so sure I should tell you in advance, at least not too much so. It will give you time to rehearse and that will change how you answer, I think."

"Jogging. Fast walking. Running if you want. I will allow you to set the pace for us." Marko leads her up the stairs and out onto the track, sticking to the outside. "Well I would imagine a good number of questions would come about because of what I say, yes? But if that is how you prefer, I have no problem with that, either." She offers a reassuring smile to Fresca. "But I am curious if you are more interested in the professional or personal aspect of me.. for the interview, I mean? And did you give any more thought to having someone interview you?"

Fresca follows along, a little less nervous about things, now that she's got company. Though jogging is something she's not used to. Better get used to it though, it'll probably be the main method of exercise, alas. At least until she gets back to a wooden floor. "It is funny the things you miss that you did not expect to," she says with a wry tone to her voice. "And si, I have given it much thought. Are you wanting to interview me?" she asks, since it /is/ Marko's idea after all, and she does seem interested. "What questions would you ask?"

Fresca follows along, a little less nervous about things, now that she's got company. Though jogging is something she's not used to. Better get used to it though, it'll probably be the main method of exercise, alas. At least until she gets back to a wooden floor. "It is funny the things you miss that you did not expect to," she says with a wry tone to her voice. "And si, I have given it much thought. Are you wanting to interview me?" she asks, since it /is/ Marko's idea after all, and she does seem interested. "What questions would you ask?" She glances at the track and then starts walking along it, sticking to the outside as it seems that is where Marko is putting them. Her speed is actually just moderate to start with, as she starts with an easy walk around the track to warm up.

Dejana's smile doesn't waver. "If you spend enough time out here, you get used to it. Going home is the problem. There is actually a problem that some people have adjusting to life back on a planet. Especially Earth. We are so far from home that we are nearly alienated from life and culture. Mail and communications can take days sometimes. I did a cruise where we only got mail once every two months. It was very tough." By her inflection, that was probably her least favorite cruise. She doesn't seem to mind the walk either. Her eyes track the pair of Marines as they job past again before she looks back to Fresca. "I can if you would like. Though I would probably ask personal questions as well as more.. social? Maybe social is not the right word. I do not know how comfortable you would be. I am naturally curious so.. You may be more comfortable with someone else?"

"You can ask, of course, but just as you have the right to not answer, so too would I," Fresca says. She too glances over at the marines, but then turns back to Marko, without paying them too much mind. "I am not opposed to personal questions, though I would not tell anyone else's secrets." She's be fine for her own part, honestly. "Can you imagine an interview by someone who is not curious? No questions would be asked, and then the interview would be over in boredom. I do not think that would happen in your case. But it occurs to me that perhaps I shall offer a trade to those I interview. If I might interview them, then they too can interview me. Thus we will get different questions from different people." She starts to walk a little faster once they get back to their starting place on the route, but then as she talks and distracts herself, her pace slows down again.

Dejana glances to her. "Oh? I was under the impression I had to answer anything. I did not realize I could just skip questions." Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. "But no, I would not expect you to divulge personal secrets and problems any more than you would expect us to divulge classified information." She thinks on the last idea and nods a few times. "That is not a bad idea at all, but it would be important to keep consistant if you want to document how this cruise effects you personally. The relationships you build with others will be important. It may seem like everyone wants to shun you right now but.. be patient. We will warm. I will get you out drinking with some of the two-twenty-first some night after you interview me so I can vouch and show that you are not an enemy of the state." She offers the last with a wink.

Not if she can help it, that's for sure. Fresca gives Dejana a somewhat startled look but then seems to realize the other woman is teasing. At this point, she realizes she slowed down so she speeds up her walk again, not to really fast but a little faster. "I do not know if anyone ever really answers all the questions, but if you see an interview on the news, you cannot see - if the technicians are good - where they have edited out the parts that were not to be shown. I will try not to ask such questions that you cannot answer, mind, but sometimes I might accidentally. I am not always aware of where questions will take us."

Dejana speeds up with her to keep pace without so much as a glance. "Well I guess, from what I would imagine, that if you are looking for certain things you could just ask the question in a different way? I mean, I am a fairly open person about most things. There are certain things that I do not like to discuss. Awards, honorifics, medals. If you want to know about them you can come by my office and look over my written commendations. Ask a few questions. But not in an interview. What you talk about in your stories is your own perogative but I will not discuss them personally on camera." The Major is solemn about it. Serious, but leaving room for Fresca to discuss it if she wants to. "If I interview you, is there anything I should stay away from? I get the idea your family is a sensitive area."

Fresca nods, trying to set a constant pace now, if a little slower than perhaps the other woman is used to. "Is it permitted to perhaps take pictures of the medals?" Fresca asks, already figuring out how she could deal with that. "I can work with that, certainly. And if you ask about my childhood or who is my favourite cousin, that I can answer. Even about the vinyards which my father keeps." See, no issue there, none at all. "Still, it would perhaps be better to not ask too many questions regarding my family. Or else they might wait for me to return and continue with the plans they have shelved currently." And Fresca would definitely dislike that, judging by her slight shiver as she speaks.

Dejana nods her head. "Yes. Take all the pictures you like of them. As I said, you may discuss them but I will not on camera or-" she gestures around "-in a public setting like this. I have won something important for doing something that I have conflicted feelings about and I am unsure that it sets a positive example for my pilots. Thus, I do not flaunt such things." Once again, its not about her. Its about the people she flies with. "As far as your family goes, that is not a problem. I am more interested in the civilian perspective of us and who we are to you all. I guess I should not allude to far as to what I will ask either, as that seems a good idea, but your personal thoughts would be appreciated."

Fresca stops her walking to turn and offer a hand to Marko. "Deal," she says with a big smile on her face. "Perhaps in two days? I think I shall be ready to start my interviews then." And then as the marines return again, she remembers what she is doing and chagrin crosses her face. "I am not very good at this, am I? Well, perhaps I can try to jog one lap and see if that works? I will have to be silent while I do so, or else I will forget to tell my feet to keep moving, but maybe that is not a bad thing?"

Dejana takes the hand with a firm shake and a smile. "Deal. But do not talk if you want to jog. I will speak for us then," she conceedes with a smile as they speed up. "And two days.." The pilot takes a long breath as they move. "I am sorry, but that will not work. We are beginning combat operations tomorrow evening and they will likely go through the weekend. You might end up dropping with the Marines, too. But that is not a decision I can make. So your best bet will either be tonight after my CAP or we will probably have to wait until the operations cease - which may be a few days or even a week or so."

That has Fresca cuss momentarily, though she only ever cusses in Italian, so it might be tough to identify. "Alright then, perhaps we can try for tonight, but if not, I will wait until after the operations pause dramatically for an interview. In the meantime I will begin lining up the other interviews as well, so that I can find good times to sit with people with a nice bottle of wine or whatever it is that they wish and chat." Then she shuts up, primarily because she does start jogging now, and well, she can't talk and jog at the same time.

Dejana shrugs as they jog. "Whatever suits you best. The days following operations the pilots tend to be chatty say it may work best for you. I am pretty even before and after. What you have seen of me so far is about par for the course." She flashes a grin at the woman, her ponytail swishing past her face quickly. "But if you want pilots, I will talk to a few and see if they are willing. As I said, it may do you better to wait and socialize with a few first. We are pack animals and sometimes distrusting of those on the outside. But ultimately, the choice is yours. Perhaps you would prefer a few defensive pilots, yes?" She's still grinning.

And what should come wandering along into the fitness center, but the Wing Commander. Taking a chance to get in a little exercise before the fecal matter impacts the rotary oscillator, perhaps? Whatever the reason might be, he makes his way into the fitness center, taking a quick glance around, either debating his options or looking at who's lingering here.

Fresca says nothing for a bit, getting at least one lap done. Then she slows down anyway, since that's what she said she was going to do. Her braething is a little faster, but she's not horribly out of breath. At least she's not been a complete slug her whole life; she apparently gets some exercise every so often. "I think it would be interesting to start with some defensive and see if a relationship builds or not," she says after a moment of thought. "And also to show the truth, that not everyone is happy to have me here and perhaps with good reason." She is walking at a good pace now, not stopped, but not moving excessively quickly either.

Dejana looks down from the jogging track to see the Winco and she offers him a wave as they continue the lap. "Hey Major, care to join us?" she calls, beckoning him up with her hand, using the same gesture the deck crews use for Engine Start. A grin is flashed with it and she looks to Fresca as the woman finishes. She tilts her head back and forth. "To be honest, Fresca? The truth is whatever you want it to be to the audience back home. What you believe inside that you want to convey is something else. Truth always has a slant to whatever you want to be true. Facts never exist i na vaccuum. Machiavelli will teach you that in basic philosophy. Instead, might I suggest telling a story? Do not look for truth, maybe? But something more personal?" Her brow lifts to the woman she's now walking with, her inflection full of meaning. She doesn't want to offend the reporter. Its plain as day in her eyes.

Pickett makes his way along over to join the two women, offering them a bit of a smile. "Careful, Major, or I'm going to start suspecting there's a conspiracy afoot" Pickett jokes. "Usually I walk into a place like this, and everyone scurries like roaches looking for a dark corner" he jokes.

Fresca blinks just a bit, taking a look at Pickett. She doesn't quite stop walking, but there is a little hesitation, as she really can't walk and do most anything else at the same time it seems. "Ah, but why scurry when it is me who people are running from these days?" she returns with a smile. Of course, the navy blue track pants and simple tshirt she's wearing to exercise in are far from the height of fashion she is usually dressed in. But they are appropriate for the gym, right down to the sensible shoes. A breath and then to Marko, "Si, I will tell a story, but sometimes a story that starts with a bit of conflict, of distrust, has further to go than those that start with everyone all friendly."

"Just trying to keep an open channel, sir." Marko offers a quick smile to Pickett. To Fresca, she nods. "Da. You have an excellent point. I am, believe it or not, excited to see what you come up with here. We have some rather interesting personalities aboard." She then motions from Pickett to Fresca. "This is Francesca DeValeris, the reporter that is riding shotgun on the cruise, sir. Francesca, this is Major Pickett, our Wing Commander and the God of pilots on board. We try to keep him happy and in return he does not smite us."

"Well, pleasure to meet you" Pickett replies to Francesca with a little smile. "I promise, half of what they tell you about me is malicious falsehood" Pickett explains. "The other half, well… let's not worry about that, shall we?" he jokes.

Fresca chuckles, a light and bubbly sound, though the woman manages somehow to keep walking. "A pleasure, Major," she replies. "I think perhaps the same can be said of me. C - Major Markovic is being kind enough to keep me company for a bit, she is too dedicated." Hah. "I take it that you are in charge of all the pilots? That must be somewhat challenging, si? It is - every one here is brave and I am pleased to have this opportunity." She stops there, the trio walking around the track. There is, however, a pair of marines running in one of the inner lanes.

"So if we tell her that our heroic leader is actually a superman who graces us lowly mortals with his presence, then that would be a malicious falsehood, mm?" Markovic flashes a playful smile to the man and looks back to Fresca. "But he is a good guy. You have my word. And please, just think of me as a friendly escort - as opposed to the Dobermans who watch you." She dips her head then looks back to the other Major. "Sir, actually I am glad we caught you. I had a question about getting some gun camera footage released? I mentioned our tapes and Francesca said she might be interested in using some of it. Does that sound like something we could make happen?"

Melia saunters into the gym just as Pickett says his little sally and she shakes her head. "Trust me it's all true and half of it from me." She says going to throw her bag under the bench and go to the mats for a quick warm up. "Evening all." She adds with a smile, and a wink towards the newly promoted Major.

"Absolutely. I've got a reputation to uphold, Needles, those sort of things just ruin it" Pickett replies with a little laugh. He's momentarily distracted by Melia's arrival, giving her a little grin and a greeting of "Hey, trouble" before turning his attention back to the conversation at hand. "What sort of gun camera footage were you hoping for access to?"

Aha, right. The WinCo and … some other acronym that Fresca cannot for the life of her remember and is not going to even try to mangle. "Si, we were discussing that. I promise I will not - " a pause and a glance over to Melia. Fresca nods slightly, but then turns back to Pickett and Marko, her hands gesturing as she talks, getting a little excited now. "I promise not to give away your secrets, Major. If you are a superhero, then nobody shall hear it from me. Unless of course it comes out in the video." A pause and an impish grin flung towards Pickett with a glance at Marko to see how she's taking it, and then Fresca switches topics without even stopping bubbling. "I would like some footage that is something I can play and replay, that will give no secrets away, and that will add for the viewers a hint of what is truly faced here. They may see it as excitement but really I think it should be called danger."

Markovic waves happily to Melia. "You and I should get drinks soon, my dear. I am pretty sure I have not seen you ut once since you put those pins on." There's a mock scolding to her voice and a grin on her lips. It doesn't leave as she listens to Fesca talk. This may become a running gag and it pleases her. She then adds, "I figure we have enough generic footage from old dogfights - at least from Castor - that we could give her a good amount. I know we have some older stuff in the ships archives, too, sir."

Melia begins to stretch a little, letting the trio talk she's not really interest in their conversation nor has she been invited to take part, so she mere begins her work out and losens herself up. She sits down and works on her back muscles, leaning forwards and touching her toes then counting to twenty before, she gives Markovic an impish grin. "I hear you just got pinned yourself, should have a double celebration get rawing drunk and find us a couple of cure sailors." She says, her eyes sliding over the other Major presents. The Reporter, gets a quick grin. "Maybe invite Lois Lane here, and she can have a report on the other side of life, as well as the violence and blood shed."

"Careful, Melia" Pickett replies to her with a little grin, before he looks back to the Major and the Reporter. "And I suppose something could probably be arranged. With a few restrictions, of course. Nothing from the current operation, for reasons of operational security" Ryn explains. "Nothing that shows a friendly fatality. You can show a ship blowing up if the pilot gets out, but I don't want anyone having to watch their little Jimmy getting blown up fourteen times in slow motion on the six o'clock newsfeed."

Fresca stops dead in her tracks, letting her eyes go wide. "You are right, Major Markovic, he is a superhero. Look, he is reading my mind," she declares, with almost a straight face. "Si, that is good. I would like to have something blowing up, but not people please." At least not for her tagline - and perhaps not anywhere that anyone could see it. "I am reporting for the news, not a reality show." And then she turns to look at Melia, her head tilting slighlty. "I think drinks out would be fun. We shall have to do so once it is convenient for all. Though I think I would prefer to do so off the record, unless you all insist otherwise." A pause and then, "Lois Lane I think is too brave for me to be her, but I do not know of another fictional reporter who might fit - I shall think on it, if you wish?"

Markovic nods her head to Melia. "I am waiting to wake up from the dream, still." She chuckles. "But yes. Perhaps we should. And if you can find the cute sailors, I am all about it!!" She then nods to Pickett. "I said much the same thing to her, sir. Zero fatalities. Nothing from the current operations. Nothing that identifies specific major ships. Radio chatter will have to be generic. If we can find some video of my ejection a few weeks back, we can use that. I have no shame." She smirks with the admission and laughs to Fresca. "Off the record would be best if we are all boozing. But that is just my suggestion."

Melia winks over at Pickett. "Why Major, are you implying that I'm not careful." Melia says going to work on her arms, she starts a series of a hundred push ups, done the male style, just because she's stubborn like that, then goes to change to sit ups, slowly going up and down she's breathing a little harder now as she keeps up the muiltie way conversation. "Sure thing toots, I just used her because she was the only one I could think of, oh there was that one in Sky Captain and the world of tomorrow." She pauses her lips. "Hmmmm How about Erma from that kids program the one that hung around with April O'neil?" Seems like someone is into old kids flicks. "And yeah it'll be off the records…And Marko babe, I know alot of cure sailors." She says with a grin.

"I'm not implying it, I'm pretty much outright saying it" Pickett replies to Melia playfully, before looking back towards the other two again. "And any night of getting loaded and doing something stupid is going to have to be strictly off the record. And going to have to wait until the ship is somewhere a little less precarious than our current position"

Ah, the serious side. Fresca nods her head, not really surprised by the answer. "Si, that makes sense." Well, it is what she said, so it's all good. "Though I am not certain that there is a less-precarious position in the near future. So, then, it will be a while. That is not a bad thing, as it will give us more time to build up our anticipation. Erma? I do not know this Erma - I shall have to do some research when I can. It is good sometimes to associate things with people, as then I am likely to remember names and such. Major Markovic was helping me with some of the terms, but I somehow seem to have a bad memory for them. it was … CAG? or have I mixed it up?" At least she didn't say what she thought those initials stand for. This time.

Markovic tosses a dismissive hand in the air. "Constant danger? Overrated." She grins. "There is down time. You just have to rememebr that you cannot live you life on the ship constantly worrying over whether or not you will get attacked. If that were the case, nothing would ever get done." She then shrugs to Fresca. "CAG is an older term. Did you mean CAP? Combat Air Patrol?"

Melia just gives Pickett a long looks and sighs. "Right Major." She says then shakes her head as she quickly get to her feet in one fluid movement. She's then over to the group, and hand is gently laid on Picketts back as she joins in their small group. "And don't sweat it reporter chick, I was just teasing you. I use to watch alot of kid flicks with my mom." she says. "Some of them were pretty cool." She then gives Markovic a grin. "So they finally pinned you down and got the oak leaf on ya, should have run faster next you know you'll be flying the armored desk."

"There is downtime, but for the next few days at least I don't suspect there's going to be much" Pickett replies to Markovic. "I'm not saying that we have to wait until the war is over and have our drinks on Kilrah" he adds, giving a little grin. "Just that right /now/ isn't the most opportune moment for it"

Fresca takes a step back now, almost away from the group. Then she stops herself. "Danger is relative, si? To those who live in the calmest of environments crossing the road may be dangerous, but here, it is more immediate and the result deadly. I am certain we can hold off on our drinks until a time that will at least seem sensible." Until the ambush happens or some such. "In fact, Major Markovic and I were already discussing a good time for an interview and considering that it might make sense to do so after this weekend." She offers a bit of a smile, aware she might well be stirring up everyone's schedule all unintentionally. "Oh, and it's Francesca deValeris. I suppose reporter chick would do, but it is somehow too personal and not enough, all at the same time. I meant to ask, Major, is there a chapel aboard at all? It is okay if not, I will not be heartbroken forever and ever." A little melodramatic at times, perhaps. "Maybe it was CAP. I am not certain. I think perhaps I will try jogging again, if you do not mind?"

Marko looks balefully to Melia. "Oh I know it. But if I ever get promoted out of the cockpit, it will be a promotion to retirement. Luckily for the rest of the military, my ambitions are not in the upper echelons. Annnd considering my record, it is probably lucky that I feel that way." She winks to the Marine and looks to Fresca, nodding in confirmation. "Aye, sir," she begins back to Pickett. "I was going to seek approval before it happened. But apparently I am among the few to sit in front of the camera. That is, if there is no problem." As Fresca moves off, Dejana waves to her. "Keep it up, soldier. Be waiting when you come back around."

"No worries, Major. If I can't trust my squadron commanders not to say anything that will get them into trouble, who can I?" Pickett replies with a little bit of a grin. "Besides, worst case I'd just blame the reporter." And he's only half-kidding.

Melia ohs softly. "Interviews oh gods can you imagine me on there. I'd have to hold my potty mouth and be all nice and sweet." She wrinkles her nose. "Maybe I could be one of these people whom have to say I love you to every family member." she gives an impish grin.

Markovic shrugs. "I would not know, sir. I just wanted to be sure everything was kosher. I would hate to get fired my first week on the job." She grins. "What about you? Any interest in getting an interview? Fresca seems like quite a friendly woman. I believe I was able to set her straight on a few matters and we have a good understanding." She then nods to Melia, her grin never leaving. "Oh I will be the same way. I just have not told her that -yet.- I will be that idiot on there waving 'Hi mom! I am on TV!!'" She even waves like a dork. "But I imagine they will have to edit out a lot of language so I would not be too concerned." The more Dejana talks about it, the more obviously excited she is to get interviewed. She might think she's doing a good job of hiding it but.. yeah.

"Oh, I don't know. I might, but I don't think I'd make for a terribly exciting interview somehow" Pickett replies with a little shrug. "From what I've seen, most of the population wants the war over, and doesn't much care for people who'll do what's necessary to win it. I wouldn't make for a terribly popular interview."

Melia grins at the Dorkie wave. "Maybe we can do it together Dee a pilot and marine officer and have a debate going on and be all like. No way marines are so much cooler." She says in a very Wayne's world type voice. "And you'd be like, Dude so not true Pilots rock." She does a Bill and Ted inpression this time. "They only want it over, cause it's eatting up their taxes they don't give a damn about us up here fighting."

Marko offers a good laugh to Melia's impressions, but she nods a few times to Pickett. "Back at Saint Johns we would get protestors outside the gates every once in awhile. We had a nun try to break into out fuel depot with a zippo. She wanted to burn the place down." Dejana shakes her head. "But I think it might do the population good to see a personal face out here. We all have mothers and fathers. Sisters and brothers. Some of us have kids. They may want the war over but like you said, Melia, it would be good for them to care about us. Relating our stories may be the best way."

"And that right there is why I am thankful I wouldn't be responsible for /your/ interview" Pickett tells Melia with an amused shake of his head. "And you might be right there" he adds to Markovic. "But if you're looking to put a shiny, cheerful face on the war, I'm pretty much the last guy that you want on that screen"

Fresca comes into sight as she comes jogging around the track. She won't be winning any speed records, but she's managed to not trip over her own shoelaces at least. She has had enough of a breather since the last lap that she's breathing only moderately harder, as she comes back around, missing out on the conversation the others are having. She does start to slow down as if intending on joining them once more.

Melia snorts softly at Marko she hasn't thought about Beth for a few weeks now, her astranged daughter. "Yep, might make em think twice before they start protesting, cause you know it pisses me off they aint the ones fighting we are. Don't you think we want this war over as much as they do. We aint some sadist, enjoying watching our friends and loved ones get killed." She shudders for a moment remembering how close she came to losing Tom. "So yeah, might place some proceptive on the whole deal, I welcome an interview."

"Well I do not think we should put any face on the war except an honest one. Even people who have seen the worst. We have both seen some bad stuff, sir. You, I would imagine much more-so. But you still fight. And lead. You did not run away. I cannot see why that is a bad thing to show. It should be a point of pride, sir." Earnest words from the new Major. Its even delivered with a bit of hope and belief. "It is not so much that we are the ones fighting. We all volunteered to be here. Which is what we are fighting to protect. Our freedom of choice. The alternative is slavery and likely death under the Kilrathi. We are not superior individuals, we just have a very upfront perspective." And smiles to Fresca as she approaches.

"But what the public wants to see, well… that's honest and virtuous soldiers and pilots out there defending their freedom, or some other sort of crap" Pickett explains. "I'm something different."

Melia finally just shales her head and sighs. "Well as interesting as this conversation is I need to hit the showers and get ready for sac time. I got early PT and meeting all day tomorrow so I don't need to be sleeping through either of em." She squeezes Tom's arm, gives Markovic a salute and teh reporter a quick cheesey grin. "Later, my dears."

Fresca arrives just in time to hear Pickett, having missed all the rest of the conversation. She frowns a bit, though she stays quiet for a moment, listening. "I should not interrupt perhaps, but I think that the public would like to see real people. Those who have feelings, strong emotions, family, friends, foibles, and even might make mistakes. Though the military and government types might not think so." Her words come to a close as Melia speaks up, and returns the grin with a smile of her own. "Next time, perhaps it is that we will have time to speak at length. If you do not mind, that is."

"Maybe, sir. But it does not mean you do not have a personal face to put on the war. Angry, sad, confused.. We all have our opinions. We follow you for a lot of reasons, not all of it because our contracts say we have a legal obligation." Dejana nods to Melia, returning the quick salute. "See you soon for drinks." A wink and her attention turns to Fresca. "I do agree. We are not perfect. It is a good point to relate on."

"Here I've always liked to think that you follow me because it's one hell of alot safer than being in front of me" Pickett replies to Markovic with a little grin. That said, he looks back towards Fresca. "Either way, I'll consider it. But no promises just yet." His attention then turns towards the departing Marine. "I'll see you later, Melia"

Melia wonders off towards the locker room, whistling to herself as she does so.

"Grazie," Fresca says to Pickett, since he did say he'd consider it. "And for the footage, will you have someone release to me what is okay for me to look at? I am already to clear everything through the communications officer before it goes back to air, but if you wish, I can clear the images I choose as well? Or with someone else?" Or whatever works, she's perfectly willing to be as accomodating as she can on this one. "I have many ideas for how to fit this all together, you will see. Perhaps you might even approve of it, once I am done."

"Well that and you have a cute butt, sir. But if you are looking for someone to fly out front, I am game. Though I do not think I ensnare the same respect that you do. War heroes tend to inspire the troops more than flight instructors." She cuts him a wink and waves to Melia as she leaves. "I can help her, if need-be, sir. I can get into the archives and cut out some nice footage. Lots of Dralthis exploding and hoots and hollars over the comms." Not literally, thats obvious in her inflection.

"If you want to volunteer for the job, I'm not going to stop you" Pickett replies to Markovic. "And I'd offer the lead spot to you, but I think there'd be a fair portion of the flight wing distracted by your backside than my own. So, afraid I'll have to keep it a while longer."

Fresca deliberately stops herself from looking at anyone's backside. Seriously. She opens her mouth and then closes it again. "I - " she starts and then stops, letting her breath out slowly. "I think perhaps I should go do another lap and let you two continue. I am not so sure that I should be hearing this, even if it is not top secret." She simply smiles at Marko though. "If you have an opportunity to help, that would be most appreciated. I can film some footage of my own, but I do understand that what I film might not be good to use for some time to come." Like until it's well in the past. That's okay, she can do retrospectives later. For now though, if there's material that she can get that will fill the void, she'll take it. "I think most superheros have cute derrieres, so then you must be one too, Major Markovic, if Major Pickett is correct."

Markovic laughs lightly. "This old thing?" She claps a hand to her rear. "Yes, it is a bit distracting but I promise, sir, I am trying to get it down to a managable size." All humor with her comments. "But yes, I can help her out. As you imagine, we will all be a bit busy tomorrow but I can probably slice a few minutes of footage tonight, maybe? If Fresca has time?" She looks to the other woman. "I will need you to sign a confidentiality waiver, though. It is standard for viewing with civilians, as some footage may be quite sensitive." But she laughs with the comment about her rear. "You are too kind, Francesca. But no, you do not have to go. Just scuttle between pilots. Nothing too bad."

Pickett can't help but give a little laugh at that, shaking his head slightly. "Besides, from all I really see of Needles' ass, it's flaming red and provides enough thrust to push a Stiletto at 1400kps" Pickett jokes. "Not exactly the stuff that fantasies are made of" Pickett adds. One horrible joke deserves another, it seems.

Fresca will make time for that, Marko, you betcha. "Si, I have time. I should do some stretching and then I can change so I do not smell like this gym, but if that is good with you, I would be pleased to have your help. And as for the waiver, I think I have already signed one, but it will not hut to sign another one, I think. Do you suppose we might get some footage of that? It would then be an inside joke for you all, whenever it aired." Ahem. Well, it's a thought, if it doesn't cause too much embarrassment.

Dejana leans back, belting out a laugh. She's done a second later and shaking her head at Pickett. "Well then you just are not my type of man, sir. I will just have to continue my hunt elsewhere." LE SIGH!!! That ever-smiling face then turns towards Fresca. "I love a good gag. We must do this. And yes, sure thing. Go get yourself changed and I will grab a waiver from Naval Intelligence. I can meet you in the briefing room in say.. twenty minutes? That should give you time for a shower and whatnot and to get your camera ready?"

"What would that make your type? Fireproof?" Pickett replies with a little chuckle. "At any rate, this is the part where I really ought to exercise more than just my mouth" Pickett jokes, starting to head along for the locker rooms. He hadn't even made it to the 'changing out of his duty uniform' phase, after all, before getting hijacked. "Have a good evening"

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