we stand shoulder to shoulder (veteran's social)

[theydrewfirstblood]

Who: John Rambo (theydrewfirstblood) & The Pumpkin Hollow Veterans' Association
What: Leveling up veteran's poker night with a barbecue
When: post-Blight
Where: Baker Ranch
Warning(s): General warnings for John's canon: violence, police brutality, PTSD, torture, etc., and likely similar for many other veterans here, check for further warnings throughout

(NOTE: Treat this as a gathering, but I personally will be backtagging into this for the duration of September, so don't be a stranger!)

Poker Night is something John looks forward to every month, but he got it into his head that it could be fun to do a little more, so he talked to a few people, did a little extra work...

...then the damn Thatcher's Blight hit and everything went to absolute shit.

Fortunately, the whole thing's blown over now, and once he's sure everything around the farm is as clean as it's gonna get? John goes through his stores and decides he's got enough food and drink for all--and tacks up a notice on the bulletin board just below that for the regular poker night, with a date and time as well as his phone number and address.

VETERAN'S SOCIAL, BAKER RANCH--BBQ & DRINKS, POTLUCK OPTIONAL

The event starts a few hours before dusk. John's set up a ways from the house with some tables, chairs, and blankets for those who want to go full on picnic style. It wouldn't be a veteran's night without poker, so there's a game going at one of the tables while another holds plates of food--regular game coming off the grill, along with a few other pieces of meat he picked up for those who aren't fans of game.

And, because Co is around, there's no visible chicken on the grill. Ever the pragmatist, there's a couple casseroles of simple baked chicken on the table, alongside some sides John's put together or any offerings that come along as part of the optional potluck. There's not a lot of alcohol, but John's got the last bottle or two of his little dandelion wine experiment available, as well as a couple other things. Mostly it's water, tea, coffee--tamer offerings.

Speaking of the animals, John's turned loose the ones he treats as pets: Sam the rooster spends the whole night chasing after and trying to wrangle Co, who makes no bones about harassing newcomers for adulation. Those she knows, if they sit still too long, will end up with a happy chicken nesting in their lap...one that will remain quiet only so long as you offer the bare minimum of scritches and pets. Dare to ignore her, and angry clucking will ensue. John's mare, Helga, can also be seen grazing around the goings-on, shy but not unfriendly. If a hot breath puffs on the back of your neck, she's just curious--if you pet her, she'll swish her tail happily and move on.

There's also a newer member of the family, whose only just getting big enough to let socialize: Bao, a female cottontail rabbit whose still young, but no longer too much of a baby to keep isolated. Though she spends a good portion of the night in John's arms when he's not busy, she does hop around loose, sticking close to John and to Co, who can be found very rarely nesting in a patch of grass with Bao tucked against her feathery side, gently attempting to "preen" Bao despite her lack of feathers.

And while this is, ostensibly, the veteran's social, any of Baker Ranch's varying degrees of resident are invited to the party, so if there's new faces about? Relax, they don't bite--unless you have food, then watch your hands. They're probably teenagers, and they don't discriminate when it comes to their appetites.

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

A long beat.

"I mean," he says slowly. "That, yeah."

[not_a_traitor]

His brow knits.

"Yeah?" he prompts, not unkindly.

[hate_gettin_older]

"It was a war." He doesn't really decide to look off into the middle distance, it just sort of happens. "Kind of my whole life was, but ... right at the end was when we fought. Had no chance to fight most of the time, so we made one."

[not_a_traitor]

Gaeta smiles just a little at that, grim and humorless.

"Sounds like a few battles I've been in," he says. "If you're looking for reassurance that it counts."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Yeah?" Glancing back to him, with a look that begins with uncertainty and starts to shade into something a little warmer.

[not_a_traitor]

"Yeah. Bringing the fight to the enemy when you're in an inferior position might be a tactic of last resort, a lot of the time, but it's a valid tactic. And it gives you the element of surprise."

He hesitates as he considers his options. Gaeta could name a dozen battles off the top of his head that fit the criteria, both from personal experience and ones he read about in a Fleet Academy textbook. But there's another choice he could make; the most obvious one, probably.

Gaeta glances back toward the party, spotting John in the crowd. He told him the truth and the worlds didn't end. He wasn't met with disgust or rejection, nor banishment from the little group of friends he's formed since Mortanne brought him here.

Still, he speaks cautiously. "Do you remember, when we were ghosts on the Stag Beetle, talking about how to fight back against the captain? And I mentioned I'd done something similar before?"

It's a genuine question. Gods know neither of them were in the best state at the time.

[hate_gettin_older]

"I remember, yeah."

Bad state or no, that isn't an experience he's likely to forget in a hurry -- and Gaeta saying he'd done this before felt like a lifeline, at the time.

[not_a_traitor]

Gaeta nods. Just like when he told John, he takes a moment to steel himself, settle into the decision.

It's easier the second time around.

"I arrived here because I was executed," he says, "for leading a mutiny against my commanding officer. He'd allied with the same machines that slaughtered almost all of humanity four years ago, was planning to graft their technology onto our ships -- " Gaeta exhales a short, sharp breath. "I couldn't let that happen. I swore my oath to the Fleet that I wouldn't. It wasn't a battle I expected to fight, but it's one I had to... like you said. Create the chance to fight."

His mouth twists, wry. "Obviously I didn't succeed, or I wouldn't be here. And I know most people don't consider it a battle; they just called it treason. But I don't regret fighting it, and I don't consider it any less a part of my war."

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar doesn't mean to stare at him, but that ... that's a lot to absorb.

"Your commanding officer," he says slowly, "joined up with the -- the ones you were fighting? All that time? Christ."

That last is barely a whisper. It's like finding out Gilliam was working with Wilford; what would they have done, if they'd found that out while he was still alive?

[not_a_traitor]

"He did." Gaeta's voice shades into bitterness. "Mostly because his best friend turned out to be a Cylon sleeper agent the entire time, so hey, I guess he figured it wasn't a big deal after all. Already allied with one, might as well ally with the rest."

He sighs.

"He claimed it needed to happen for our survival, though. Never mind that the reason we'd been struggling to survive for all those years was because of them."

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar's mouth twists in reciprocal bitterness. "Oh well sure, you can always believe the ones in charge when they say that."

(Precisely seventy-four percent of you, mutters a memory in his head.)

[not_a_traitor]

"Exactly." Grim. "I might have believed him, once, but... not after everything I'd seen from the Cylons."

[hate_gettin_older]

He shakes his head silently.

(Wants to say, you're better off out of it. Knows that wouldn't help.)

[not_a_traitor]

The silence lingers for another handful of moments.

"Anyway." Gaeta rubs the back of his head; sighs again, quieter. "That -- may not have been the best example to make my point, but I mean to say: you don't have to be part of a formally recognized military to count as a veteran of a war. I'd count the civilian side of my mutiny as veterans. We all fought against an enemy in service of something bigger than us."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Yeah." Edgar clears his throat. "Guess that's the important part."

And he offers Gaeta his hand.

wrap?

[not_a_traitor]

Another beat passes. The lingering bitterness and anger dims, then fades altogether.

Quirking a small, crooked smile, Gaeta meets Edgar's hand with his own in a firm shake.