trans_9 | Assigned and getting ideas [Open]

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Assigned and getting ideas [Open]

Nathan was able to obtain some paper and a pen for jotting down notes. He was going over ideas to help the others organize this place. There was no schedule in place for one, and that Chief had a great idea for the differing shifts. Then he'd always respect the sentiments of a fellow Navy man anyway. He was currently in the Observation Deck, continuing to take notes, and often pacing back and forth.

Thinking of flying around the city again for some periphral views.

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"Not a single goshdarned glass of milk to be found on this ship. Truly horrifying...." The Middleman mutter to himself while entering the Obs Deck.

"Oh. Hi there. Nathan right?"

"You kidding? The only food we got around here is that damn slop in the cafeteria."

Not even MRE's were so tasteless.

"Most you can hope for is asking in the Sensorium and ask for food there. Still the same but it seems like what you'd want."

Nathan then stepped forward to shake his hand, "Nathan Petrelli, yeah remember seeing you at the latest meeting."

The Middleman too the hand. "And I'm the Middleman. Always good to meet a fellow squid."

"Same here," Nathan grinned and shook his hand firmly, "About time we got some more solid Navy boys around here. Where did you serve?"

"Oh, I was SEAL back in the Gulf War. Actually, that's part of what got me into my current job."

"Yeah? I flew missions over Bosnia, Rwanda and Somalia myself. The Assistant DA job came later. Same with running for Congress."

"The both of you are Navy? No kidding?" The Chief, just passing by, overhears and comes over. This is relevant to his interests.

"Got cashiered for punching out my CO, but yes."

Nathan gave a small laugh at that.

"Yeah, years ago." He knew he wasn't going to make a career of it. Not with his old man and Ma pushing him toward law school and joining the family business.

The Chief quirks an eyebrow at the Middleman. Just a little. "I've been in most of my life," he says. Well, he sure does look it what with the scars and being huge and all.

"Just saw the end of an interplanetary war when Stacy pulled me. If it weren't over I wouldn't be so calm about being stuck here."

Holly had just sort of wandered onto the Obs Deck, part of a little exploring-mission to get the lay of the ship. Of course, she couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the three men.

"So, not only is this place crawling with humans, it's crawling with military humans?" She said, none to politely, and none too quietly.

Nathan raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, some of us are. You got a problem with that?"

"Actually, former military in my case. Now I just keep the paranormal secret and stop it when it tries to destroy the Earth and everything on it."

"Well, well, look who it is," Sawyer said as he walked into the obs deck, still sweaty and covered in dirt from the work he was doing on the basilica. He already had a cigarette lit and was puffing on it when he collapsed down into one of the fleshy couches.

"Boss Man number three. Or is it four? I guess Tinker Bell wasn't all that clear on that, was she?"

Nathan glanced up, and gave one of his trademark politician toothy smiles.

"I think of it more like being a lieutenant again actually."

He then casually walked closer and remarked, "And you are... Sawyer was it?"

"In the flesh," he answered, draping his arms over the back of the 'couch.' He took another drag while eying Nathan's toothy smile with suspicion. "You stink like a politician."

Nathan just shrugged as he continued to pace about.

"Guilty as charged." His election was no secret after all.

"And so now you're in charge," Sawyer said, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. "Well, that's gotta be satisfying. You get kidnapped by a creepy alien ship and, still, you manage to get yourself elected the homecoming king."

He tilted his head at him, "Are you trying to sound jealous, or just starting a fight?"

"Neither," Sawyer answered. "I'm just tryin' to figure out your angle, Abe."

"Just like everybody else on here. Want to figure out what's going on, and when the hell we're going home."

"Is that right?" Sawyer inhales another drag.

"So, what happens once ya figure all that out, Abe? How long before the politician starts runnin' the show? Playin' everybody against everybody to get what he wants. How long before you screw everyone else over and then tell us it's for our own good?"

"Why would would I want to do that?" Puzzled look from him. Even though something in his eyes suggested otherwise. However it still wouldn't work in his favor at the moment to try something else. Nobody would be helped.

"Wouldn't work anyway."

"Oh yeah? Says who?"

"Already saw what happens when people are divided in close quarters. Nothing gets done, and it's all chaos. Makes more sense to organize everybody."

"Yeah, but that's what politicians are good at, Abe. Organizin' everybody, convincin' 'em that they are the ones who should in charge. Get 'emselves a nice little flock of sheep. And then, when the devil comes a'knockin'...guess who are the first ones to the slaughter."

He leaned forward in his seat.

"You got an angle here, Harvard. I know ya do. I know your type. You don't give a damn about any of these people any more than I do. You're just playin' Mr. Nice-Guy to keep 'em from tossin' you out an airlock. I know it, and you know it. And I just want you to know, I want in. Any deals that get made, any ways outta here we find, we do it together. 'Cause I ain't gettin' left behind."

He paused to take another drag.

"You and me gonna be partners, Abe."

"Annapolis."

Nathan then explained, "I graduated from Annapolis. US Naval Academy before I served."

He gave him an assessing glance, studying him.

"Everybody often has an angle, and yours is what? Figuring to keep in somebody's good graces after that display of yours at the meeting? What are you bringing to the table?"

"My angle is the same as yours: to get out of here alive," Sawyer replied.

"And, unlike the rest of the people on this boat, you and I both know that--whether they'd like to admit or not--there's not a person here that wouldn't sell the rest of us out if it meant saving themselves or their friends. You know the only reason Tinker Bell is still in charge is because the ship put her there. And this whole 'command structure' crap is only gonna work as long as people think it's workin' in their favor. The minute it doesn't, Tinker Bell's days in charge are numbered.

"Which means everyone else will be lookin' for someone else to lead 'em or it'll turn into a free-for-all. Someone they think is a 'good guy.' And every 'good guy' needs a 'bad guy,' and who better to be Mr. Popular's bad guy than Mr. Unpopular. Like you said, most of the crew already hates me."

Nathan placed his hands on his hips, and seemed to continue considering Sawyer's words. Sawyer wasn't the first nor the last to be giving him lines like this. Requests, favors. Or having not so nice associates.

"A business partnership. I think something can be arranged."

"Glad we can see eye-to-eye," Sawyer said, sucking another drag out of his cigarette before grinding it out on the sofa. "Just don't go gettin' any ideas about turnin' coat on me. I can spot a knife in the back just as quickly as you can, Harvard."

"Duly noted," He nodded, not really surprised.

And well Nathan being a Petrelli was very familiar with the fine art of manipulation and backstabbing.

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Assigned and getting ideas [Open]

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