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[Kara is sitting somewhere, her feet propped up, glass of hooch in hand. It's clear that she's had a few. Probably to give her some dutch courage for her not!apology.]

Ahem. Okay, this is awkward. Hi! [She waggles her fingers at the camera.] Starbuck here. You may have heard me ranting on about Cylons a few days ago. Decking a few orderlies in the process. Not proud about that. Anyway...

[Have a sheepish grin and shrug of her shoulders.]

It's been been cleared up. I've had it explained to me that we may have a converging universes or realities situation here - whatever the frak that means - which, uh, well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I won't be going around waving my gun in people's faces for the foreseeable future.

[She goes to take a swig of her drink but then remembers to add:]

Unless you royally piss me off - which, you know, can happen on occasion - and then all bets are off. Although, it should be duly noted that I'm also a huge fan of duking it out or playing a game of Triad where the winner takes all to settle disputes.

So, uh, that's it. Everything's peachy.

[There's a brittleness to her smile, though, which may hint at the opposite.]

Carry on doing whatever the frak you were doing. Free drinks at the Flop for those of you in dire need of a drink. And I don't mean water, Chell.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah. Actually it's healing up pretty good.

[Thanks to Loki.]

Commander Gaheris Rhade. I suspect we didn't have time because our last encounters were... hectic.

[Being shot at and bringing in wounded is kind of a hectic scenario.]

That's good.

[...wait for it.]

So you tried to kill someone?

So, get your ass down here, Commander. We've got time now to get better acquainted.

[She'll be waiting in the outdoor 'rec area'.]

[Thankfully he's in his new clothes and clean shaven again by the time he makes it down there. Still in his thigh holsters, though, because he did bring his Force Lance.

He has a seat and props his feet up lazily as he pulls out his force lance and shuts off its charges.] Interesting way to celebrate. I can't say I'm opposed. [He means the booze. Force Lance is always awesome.]

Wow, you scrub up pretty good.

[She's still in her flightsuit, but the top half is undone and tied around her waist. Her top's a grey tee and black tank combo and her hexagonal dog tags are on display.

She eyes his weapon, curiosity already pinging pretty hard, then makes a show of pouring a mug full of moonshine for him.]

Word of warning, it probably doubles as some kind of cleaning solvent.

[She chokes on her drink, coughing hard and patting at her chest.]

Okay, I think we're even now.

[Clearing her throat, she tries to recover from the burn.]

Uh, yeah. I did. I was sure he was a Cylon. I was actually trying to interrogate him and find out how many more of them were on the planet, but it didn't go so well.

Thank you. My mother gave me good genes. [He goes to pour a cup of dear god whatever it is.] I can ingest most poisons, I can probably handle this one.

[A swallow. And a little thoughtful look.] Hm. Disinfecting. So...

[He holds up the Force Lance.] This is my Force Lance. [And he twists it- and it turns to a six foot staff.] It's not armed right now so the worst you can do is hit someone with it. [He hands it over.]

[Oh hey, like what happened to her. She gets it. It's funny.]

What's a Cylon? Not a human?

A robotic humanoid. Sentient machine. Cyborg. We think they've created a new bio-organic model which can pass as human.

They nuked our colonies and have been hunting the rest of us down ever since. There's only 50,000 of us left now. Of the entire human race. Unless some survived on Earth. It's meant to be the 13th colony, so we're trying to get there. To reach safe haven. Or at least we hope it will be.

[Her expression hardens.]

Robots. They pass as human?

[She grits her teeth and looks away from the camera for a moment.]

Sounds like something a robot would do.

What's wrong with it? It's easy to remember, it's cute and it's even semi-clever, since there are like what? Thousands of berths or pods in it?

[She takes a musing sip.]

Hmmm. Maybe it should be Big Bertha.

Might take you up on the drink.

[Rassilon's Rod, she's not just naming the thing, she's *punning*.]

Or we could simply call it what it is.

So long as you've got something of equal value to put up against it.

I'm sure I'll be able to find something.

Plenty to go around. At least until I run out and have to go see Edmund again.

Yeah. Can't say I'm a big fan.

Well, that's gotta come in handy.

[Starbuck gives him an arch look and decides not to ask about the whole genetic thing right now. She'd much rather keep things light. Taking the staff, she gets to her feet - sans crutch - and gives it a good look over, even swinging it experimentally.]

So this is your Force Lance. It's an impressive length.

[Said with tongue firmly in cheek.]

What else can it do?

Me either.

But you found out that this person really wasn't one of them?

[He's all cheeky look as he closes the Force Lance again.] Fires effectors, which deflect projectile weaponry before they can hit you. Fires blasts. Nanobot shots. And-

[He holds it up. And turns on the flashlight at the end.]

No vibration feature. [And he takes another drink of the Nietzsche-would-be-ashamed-of-this-whatever-it-is]

Relax. It's just a name. Do you drink?

Hydration being necessary for mammal survival...yes, I drink. But if you're asking if I drink alcohol, no, not usually.

[It sounds pretty good as far as strange alien weapons go. They don't have the tech yet to deflect bullets. But then his quip gets her attention and she can't help but let out a carefree laugh.]

Damn, that would have been so useful. What does it run on? Your chiseled good looks?

Why not? You could do with some loosening up.

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I can do spam.

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awesome \o/

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I think it's gonna be her new hobby to troll Narvin.