Fort Weyr - Forgotten Storage Room

A stone archway, high above any person's head, is the first indication that this room is not your usual room. Behind the door, the cavern stretches out, and the floor is covered in small boxes, endless stacks of them. Inside the boxes are a multitude of small glass containers of various shapes and sizes, and apparently different uses, as well. Each one is carefully wrapped in soft wherhide and cushioned with dried leaves, and the boxes themselves are stacked in a way that it would take considerable effort to knock them over. A large coating of dust is evident on every surface, showing that this place hasn't seen a visitor in some time.


For once the skies above Fort Weyr are clear and calm, Rukbat shining down on a drizzle-dampened bowl, a hint of a rainbow still visible from the rim, though within the weyr these things are lost. It's cool and softly lit, this cavern Roc riders use to temporarily store incoming and outgoing cargo. Crates, boxes, barrels, and packages of all kinds have been sorted for transport. But there has been more than the usual activity of late, with several crates brought to the side, while the entryway is kept under guard, at the request of the wingleader. It's been a little while since the tampering was discovered, the boxes of food and medical supplies currently undergoing an inventory check. The lids show clear signs that someone's been attempting to pry them, chipped and warped, but left only partially opened. B'ky is likely easy to spot in his normal crimson and indigo, dyed braid tucked back behind one ear, expression less than pleased. He's likely requested someone from the kitchen and infirmary come down with a cargo list, and any Roc riders with a free afternoon. He's leaning over a box, running a hand along the cracks in the edge, thin brows sneaking together somewhat.

The request for the infirmary shipment list filters its way through the ranks, briefly settles in Grigoriy's hands and is promptly passed on to Galina. That the day is the journeyman's restday is of no consequence, in the end. The young woman is dressed to ride in her white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, black trousers, and equally black boots, though her hair is up in a slightly uncharacteristic ponytail rather than braided bun. She makes her appearance with her usual stealth and with a thin envelope in hand, an envelope marked with the healer's emblem. Brief conversation is had with the guards, confirming why she's here, and then she's slipping inside a few steps, pale eyes skimming the chamber in search of B'ky.

The tap-tap-tapping of running across stone is heard first, before Marika practically careens around a corner, coming to a breathless stop at the entryway, relieving one of the guards. She takes a moment to catch her breath, then peers into the storage cavern, giving it a once-over before she properly starts her shift. B'ky gets a look over for a moment, but she quickly realises she recognises him, and his knot. "Sir." she says, as a way of announcing her presence. "Reporting for duty, sir!" Maybe slightly late, but better late than never? Galina gets a much more cautious look, though a quick word from the other guard on duty does seem to reassure Marika somewhat. She relaxes a tad, but keeps a watchful eye. "Ma'am.

B'ky's fingers trace along the cracks on side and lid of the crate, lines between his brows deepening, that vaguely frownish expression he so often wears when worrying over something. Then again, with the cargo having been tampered with, he's likely ample cause to worry. He doesn't immediately spot Galina, although her entrance is noted by a few wingriders, causing B'ky to look up and toward the healer. There's slight nod in greeting, and a polite, "Hello," for the girl, B'ky offering her something of a smile, though it's thin and very obviously doesn't reach his eyes. The man looks tired, but doesn't he always? Grey eyes flick to the envelope Galina holds, B'ky murmuring an, "Ah.. you have the delivery list for these?" indicating several crates marked as medical supplies, "We've been hoping to take inventory - it doesn't look as if anything is missing, but it's better to make sure-" He pauses as Marika careens around the corner, blinking a bit at her. "Ah.." there's a pause, the man perhaps recognizing her, inclining his head and saying quietly, "Is.. everything alright?" before nodding a bit, "I appreciate the guard's willing to put a watch on the cavern," one hand briefly rubing the back of his neck, "It's probably unneccessary, but.."

Pale eyes slant in the direction of the sprinter, the look one of unveiled, unblinking and mute appraisal. There's just the faintest flattening of her mouth for that 'ma'am', though no immediate contradiction or correction is forthcoming. No response is given, though a shallow inclination of her head as acknowledgement might suffice as a hello directed to Marika, then Galina's eyes shift back to B'ky in time to catch that not-quite-smile. "Hello," is echoed, his barely-there smile mirrored wanly with one of her own, and then the order-filled envelope is offered to B'ky without preamble. "I can confirm the quantities if you would like," she observes flatly, a slow blink spared for the man. "It appears you might be here for a full sevenday if you must do this part yourself."

Marika turns a little pink, and shakes her head. "Sir, everything is fine, sir. Nothing to be concerned about, sir. Just a minor… delay." There's a hesitation there, as though she was about to say sir again, but perhaps realised three times in three sentences was ample sirring. "Er, yes, sir. Just following orders, sir." she responds, about the guard on the cavern. "Not my place to question the necessity, sir." There's a pause, and she shrugs a little, noting, "Better to be here and not needed than vice versa, though. …sir." All the while, however, her eyes have been on Galina. She frowns a little, trying to puzzle out Galina's response to ma'am, though ultimately she just shrugs, and keeps a watchful eye on the cavern. Shouldn't she be paying more attention to /outside/ the cavern, though? Perhaps. She does seem a bit new at this.

B'ky takes the offered envelope, giving a slight nod to Galina. His own pale eyes flicker to the various crates, coming to rest on some of the larger ones. "Ah, that would certainly be appreciated," he says softly, at the mention of confirming quantities, "..if you've the time to spare." His gaze returns to the healer, and there is a very slight headtilt as he catches sight of her knot, "And.. congratulations, by the way," said with a bit more of a smile, lifting a hand to indicate it. The last time he'd seen her, she'd still been an apprentice, after all. The bluerider opens the envelope and reaches for his clipboard, which he'd left on a nearby stack of boxes, taking a moment to set the sheets on it. A brow rises, the wingleader commenting, "Mm, I imagine even with the help of my wingriders, it might take some time." Marika's mention of a delay has B'ky giving the guardswoman a brief nod, apparently not noticing the blush, or politely not commenting on it. There's a bit more of a headtilt at her explanation there, brow quirking slightly at all the 'sir'-ing, though he only nods once again, with a quiet, "True enough," about it being better to be there.

"Direct me to the ones that require an accounting," Galina intones, her hands lifting to work the ponytail free … only to deftly section her hair out and start a quick, if severe, braiding of her hair. "That envelope contains copies for your benefit; I have the numbers memorized for the quantities that were requested." For his congratulations there's only a faint tug at one corner of her mouth, a disturbed ghost of a smile that flickers from sight immediately. But the resulting "Thank you," is delayed, clumsily offered at best. Marika earns a sidelong look from the healer, one eyebrow surreptitiously climbing for every 'sir' the other young woman gives. A curious observation, nothing more.

Marika gives a brief nod, and leans back against the edge of the entranceway, frowning slightly. "Yep. Better safe than sorry." she murmurs, glancing out of the cavern briefly, before turning back towards the crates. Her foot starts tapping, a bit of a nervous twitch, and she scowls at it a moment, willing it to stop. Finally, she turns her head to B'ky, and asks, "Er, sir… you couldn't use a hand, could you? …sir?" she asks, hopefully. It's not like the cavern will be unguarded, she's not the only guard on duty - and thank Faranth for that. The girl likely realises she's overstepped a tad, being just a low-ranking guard and all, and starts trying to rationalise. "It… it'd be a great help to… to know what I— we're guarding? Sir? I… I mean, you look like you could use a hand, and all, sir…" Yes, she's rambling, looking more and more awkward and sort of embarrassed as she goes. so much for professionalism.

B'ky moves over to one of the crates, indicating it, and those nearby with a, "These are for the infirmary, although I believe if anything's missing, we should be able to find replacements without too much of a problem." It's the food crates which receive that vaguely frowny look, the wingleader pausing only long enough to set the clipboard down and find a crowbar. Several other Roc riders are already moving to the other boxes. Thin brows rise faintly at Galina's claim to having memorized the cargo, and perhaps the wingleader might look somewhat dubious, but he only says quietly, "We'll be marking off the items as they're sorted, to keep track if what's missing." There is a very brief pause, "Ah, hopefully nothing in these was terribly urgent." Being a transport rider, alas, he hasn't a clue which supplies would be running out in the infirmary by now - it's only been a couple of days, and nothing was labelled urgent on the cargo receipts, at least. Marika is given something of a slight smile for the offer of help, "Ah, I could, if you wouldn't mind?" since he's already attempting to pry the lid open, stopping a moment to indicate another crowbar. "A.. help to know what you're guarding?" that does give him pause there, the man sort of sending her a bit of a look, "I suppose.. none of this cargo needs to be kept confidential," he comments, however, though there's the unspoken implication that some of the other cargo in the storage room might be. "You're welcome to lend a hand," he nods to the guard. And the wingleader cannot help the soft chuckle at her apparent akwardness, asking, "Ah, Marika, wasn't it? I'd love to know the recipe for that pie, if your.. ah, cousin? If she's willing to share it." B'ky doesn't bite or anything, after all.

"Fortunately, there was no fellis in that shipment, so any items that might have been stolen or tampered with would be nothing more exotic than numbweed salve and dried herbs that we grow here at Fort." The braid is finished and twisted up into a bun on her head, only to be pinned precisely in place with a few hairpins that were in a pocket. Galina moves to the boxes in question, her attention drifting from one to the next, before: "None of the healing items were of tremendous importance," she recalls. The healer lapses into an easy silence as one crate is finally opened by a helpful rider and she leans over, picking through the contents with a keen eye. She's not even looking at Marika as she states rather flatly, "Take a deep breath in through your nose and release it through your mouth. That should sufficiently calm you." She might not be looking, but the tone is enough to imply the direction her words are aimed in.

Marika tips her head at B'ky, eagerly running over to help. "I… er… I didn't mean it like /that/, sir. If… I don't mean to be… nosy." She was just making excuses, really. "I… just want to help. New to guard duty. Not /new/ new, but… uh…" she trails off a bit, picking up the crowbar, and moving over to help B'ky with that crate. "Er… yes. Marika, sir. I'll… I'll ask her. She's been a bit… well, now might not be a good time, sir. I, ah, haven't dared to sneak another pie, since… since that one." Likely she's steered clear of the kitchens entirely since word got out about that meeting with the Holders. The guard looks terribly sheepish at Galina's instruction, though she does attempt to take a couple of calming breaths, when she thinks no-one is looking. It seems to help, a bit. At least she's not rambling any more? Though maybe it was the fact that she needed to be told that quieted her, as she still looks rather embarrassed.

B'ky gives Galina a nod, lips pressing together in thought for a moment before he asks, "Hmm.. with the weather the way it's been.. is there enough being harvested?" meaning the herbs grown at Fort. "Most of the food items were preserves, things brought in from cotholds with surplus in storage.. hardly anything worth…" he trails off, frowning vaguely at the boxes once again. There's a slight nod for Marika too, the man waiting until she moves over to help before leaning down to pry the crate's lid off. "How long have you been a guard?" he asks with a slight smile, and then nods a little more, about the kitchens. Likely, Fort is feeling the pinch, now that supplies have begun to run low. And with autumn approaching, and winter looming.. the looks that passes over his features is not quite dark, but it has any trace of a smile vanishing from his face. He tilts his head a bit at the exchange about breathing, though if he notices Marika following Galina's advice, he pretends not to. Instead, the contents of the crate are given a long look, the man murmuring, "Nothing appears to have been disturbed.. everything it still wrapped and sealed," nevertheless, reaching for his clipboard to take inventory.

"Fortunately," Galina offers as she moves from one side of the crate to the other, "The Hall can transfer goods from one location to another without involving the Holds. We will have enough supplies for the infirmary; of that, the Hall will make certain." A few more things are picked through, though they're left relatively undisturbed while she does so. "The herbs in the garden are sufficient, for now. The lack of fresh fruit is of far more concern at this juncture. The preserves are passable, but Grigoriy suspects they lose a great deal of their nutritional value." Marika earns a look askance, though Galya's expression remains dead neutral; contemplative, perhaps, in some distant way, but such a look doesn't linger. She has supplies of her own to count and sift through.

Marika doesn't appear to look too closely at the crate's contents, really. Crate opened, and crowbar in hand, she starts looking around for the next to open. "Er… full guard, for about a month, sir. Trainee guard for… a while." she answers B'ky, voice a little more level now, and less prone to rambling. She hesitates a tad, when herbs are mentioned, and turns to Galina, looking concerned. "…they wouldn't stop infirmary supplies, would they?" she asks, frowning at the crates. It certainly puts a new perspective on food shortages, wondering what /else/ they could be short on.

"At least the crafthalls haven't changed the trade agreements," B'ky murmurs, though more to himself than Galina. His lips press into a line at the mention of fresh fruit, the man nodding faintly. "I imagine the situation may be resolved soon," he offers, possibly meant to be a note of optimism there, though from the way he says it, and the slight set to his shoulders, perhaps it's more than that. The transport wingleader steps back a moment, gaze drifting over the various boxes and barrels in the storage room, pale eyes not quite seeing, distant. His attention returns to the items in the crates after a few seconds, checking off this or that item on the cargo list while he speaks, "It would probably be a good idea if the infirmary let the headwoman know well before any needed supplies begin to run low, to give the weyr time to ship them in." He glances at Marika, considering the guardswoman briefly, "Hmm, a month? Ah.. everyone is new at some point." And he does chuckle, if softly.

"No, they would not," Galina offers to Marika, moving along to a new crate to confirm the quantities. "But, the Hall handles trade far differently than the Holds do. Where there is no perceived need for riders among some Holds, there is always a need for healers — and healers always need supplies." Prodding through the next crate, she lapses into a brief silence, though that faint note of optimism coming from B'ky is worth a glance in that direction. "Should we suffer a lack of supplies, it will be dealt with as appropriate, I am certain." There's a long pause, then an eventual, "How do you anticipate matters to be resolved? The only immediate solution that I can see is unsavory, but would involve a mindhealer." Pause. "Or a team of them and a considerable amount of fellis."

Marika nods a little, hefting the crowbar a little, idly. "I'm… I've been trained for this, well, my whole life, sir." she assures B'ky. "But, ah, training is /one/ thing…" she murmurs, with a slight frown. Galina's explanation does seem to get through to Marika, and the young guard nods. "I… I see. That's… good, then." she murmurs, glancing to the exit briefly. The other guard is, at least, content to hold their post, keeping a diligently watchful eye. She gives Galina a bit of an odd look at talk of resolution, then quickly looks away, looking a little guilty for eavesdropping, whether intentional or not.

B'ky doesn't answer about his opinion on a possible solution to the situation, although his lips press together again, the man silent for a time. He does pause, not looking up at Galina, but asking with a somewhat baffled frown, "A mindhealer? Ah.. I'm unsure.. what you mean by that." He does glance, briefly, over at Marika, "Your entire life?" brows rising a little. "I don't imagine you should have to put your training to the test too often," the man comments, still sorting items in the crates, occasionally pausing to note something on the clipboard. "At least.. I would hope not," though the murmured words are accompanied by a deeper frown. After all, it was only a few turns ago that the renegades took hostages in the children's camp, and with the current trade crisis..

Yet more stock is counted, though Galina eventually comes to one crate that's still sealed and she considers it for a long moment. It, like some of the others, shows signs of tampering, and her fingers come to rest on the chipped corner of the lid with a contemplative air. "This one needs to be opened," she decides. Pale eyes slant to B'ky, then, the line of her mouth hardening somewhat. "I have concerns about the mental stability of Fort's Weyrleader." And that's all she'll say of that, though the hard line of her mouth remains. Her fingers tap lightly on the crate, then she eases back a step, considering the other conversation in a tangential way, but not commenting.

Marika shakes her head a little at B'ky. "Er, no, sir. Not… not yet. Not as a guard. But, ah, parents're guards, sir. We… learned to defend ourselves young." she shrugs a tad, it was just how she was raised, really. Groomed for a position in the guards, whether right for her or not. It's early days yet however, still too soon to say whether she's cut out for this or not. She takes a step towards the crate Galina is inspecting, hesitating slightly. "Er. May I be of assistance, ma'am?" she asks, in case the contents are not for her eyes. She frowns a little when the Weyrleader is mentioned, but doesn't comment.

B'ky is leaning down to check items, although another wingrider does head over to assist Galina and Marika of they need it. The wingleader spends a moment or two examining the items, gaze briefly distant again, though perhaps missing some of what is said, though her explanation catches his attention. He pauses, lifting his gaze to Galina, regarding the healer a long moment with slightly raised brows, the bluerider shaking his head after a moment. "You aren't the only one," he says softly, returning to the sorting, eventually moving along to another crate, carefully prying the lid off. Thus far, nothing's been found missing, and a number of wingriders have departed, duties calling them elsewhere. Those crates which remain, and have been checked, are being re-sealed and moved elsewhere, finally heading for their proper destinations. "I see," B'ky murmurs to Marika, "I imagine it's a useful skill to have." Self defense is important, yep.

"Interesting," is intoned without context. Galina moves another step away from the crate, giving Marika ample room in which to work. "Yes." That's her answer to Marika, paired with a slight crease between her brows for that ma'am business, again. But, as before, it's not enough to spur any correction; if anything, the expression is of one who isn't sure what to make of the term. Her arms fold loosely about her midsection, a look askance given to B'ky. "Of course." There's a grim pull to the corners of her mouth, then she's shaking her head — just once, a mechanical left, right, center — as if to clear it. As the other conversation turns to something else, she feels inclined to remark — or, more accurately, obliquely echo: "Self defense is one of many useful skills."

Marika nods a bit at Galina, stepping up to the crate, frowning a little at the lid as she tries to find the best place to stick the crowbar. It only takes her a moment, and then she's got the crowbar in, applying leverage to the lid. "Mm. Self defence. And then more training. Always training." she manages, as she works on opening that crate. "Hasn't come in handy yet… thankfully." But the knowledge is definitely there, should it be needed.

B'ky pauses once again to regard Galina, thoughtful frown upon his face, although he only returns to the inventory, moving items in the crate, then carefully placing them back. He nods brief agreement with Galina, on the subject of self defense, turning to ask Marika, "There haven't been any incidents lately? Nothing.. similar to this?" a hand indicating the damaged crates.

While Marika works at prying the lid up, Galina keeps her distance and with her head tilted at a curiously birdlike angle while she watches. "It is interesting that one person can spend a lifetime training and hope never to use those skills, while another can spend a lifetime training and hope to use those skills on a daily basis." She looks to the boxes she'd just looked through and confirms, "Those crates are fully in order. This is the last." And if she catches that look on B'ky's face, she makes no sign of it. Instead, she lapses into silence, with her eyes briefly shutting for some reason or another. Consternation manifests in a slight distortion of her face and there's another mechanical headshake before her eyes open again.

Marika gets the crate open finally, with some help from a wingrider, and then immediately takes a step back, so that Galina can check the contents of the crate. "Mhmm, yes ma'am, interesting. I would hope that the well-trained guards would be… a deterrent. The very fact of the training sufficient to prevent the need of it." But her tone isn't nearly as assured as her words. "…I haven't encountered any similar incidents, sir." she says, stressing the personal pronoun. The fact that guards have been assigned out here though, that might be telling. "…not personally…" she feels the need to add, glancing to the entranceway.

Thin brows rise at the healer's observation on skills, B'ky setting the lid back on the crate he'd been checking, and glancing over toward Galina. "They certainly are a deterrent," he says with quiet confidence, giving the guardswoman something of a smile, faint though it may be, "Without those who work to protect it, Fort Weyr might be.. in a rather worse situation." Just what that situation might be, he doesn't explain, instead nodding to Marika, "I'd like to know if anything similar happens. It's possible this may.. just have been a prank or something similar, though I would rather be cautious thn not." He steps back from the crate, giving Galina a nod, "Thankyou for the assistance, I appreciate it." He moves to return the crowbar to a rack on the near wall, taking his clipboard and moving along the rows of boxes, directing wingriders to take them where they need to go.

With the lid off, the distinctive and pungent aroma of numbweed salve can be detected; it would seem that the initial tampering attempt was enough to crack a jar, though the salve itself is thick enough that it hasn't created /too/ much of a mess. Not yet, anyway. Galina leans in to examine the remaining contents, mindful not to handle the cracked jar at the top, and furrows her brow slightly. It's the third ma'am that finally prompts: "Galina will be sufficient, if you must call me anything." Of the guards and deterrents and so forth, she has nothing further to say, instead answering B'ky with a mild, "Of course." Pause. "I will take care of this. The remaining contents are in order." One corner of her mouth twitches. "And, not a moment too soon, as I suspect Numbweed is already being problematic for Cyanosis and Redwort."

Marika nods briefly to B'ky. "Yes, sir. I'll keep an eye out, if anything happens, or if I hear of anything, I'll inform you, sir." she assures the wingleader, standing up straight, stopping just short of actually saluting. She frowns a little at Galina, "Er, yes, ma'— Galina." she responds, frowning a little at the name. She doesn't introduce herself, Galina didn't ask. The cracked numbweed jar is eyed, and she frowns. "Uh, that… was already broken, right?" She didn't do it! Though she takes a step closer to peer at it, and seems reassured. It hasn't made too much of a mess yet, but it's made more than if she'd broken it just then. "I, ah, should… get back to work. Probably." she murmurs, glancing to the other guard at the door.

There is a slight frown for the cracked jar, B'ky jotting something down on the clipboard before motioning his wingriders to take the crate. "Nothing too serious, at least," the man murmurs, offering Galina faint nod, and then looking vaguely confused. Pale eyes flick down to the cargo list, and then back to the crate, "There was.. redwort in that one?" brow furrowing as his gaze goes to the jar, "..and cy..anosis?" If he knows the names of the healer's firelizards, he apparently isn't recalling them at the moment. There's a nod and a, "Thankyou, I appreciate it," for Marika, "and thankyou for the help here," with a headtilt toward the crates. B'ky tucks the clipboard under his arm, murmuring a quiet, "I should return to work as well," gaze sweeping over the rest of the storage cavern.

Of course, with B'ky having said the other young woman's name, perhaps there simply is no need to ask. While she's slow about it, Galya finally says, "You did not cause this." Pause. Wait just a little more … then: "Your assistance is appreciated." And then she's withdrawing a step, with a brown firelizard blipping out of Between to land, hissing, on the edge of the crate. "Redwort," she explains for B'ky's benefit, lifting her chin to indicate the beast. "Cyanosis is my blue. Numbweed … is a fluke." One that she doesn't appear too pleased with, either. "Do not touch him." As if anyone would want to handle a clearly irate firelizard. "He will remain here until I return with a few things to clean the mess up." And with that said, she leaves her own little guard behind, while she departs for the infirmary. "Be well," is tossed over her shoulder without a backward look, a final farewell of a sort before she's out of sight.

B'ky ahs about the firelizards, although there is a mild frown when it appears the creature is staying. "I wasn't intending to," is said rather flatly, about touching the firelizard. "I'd rather you not-" he tells her, frown deepening, though the girl is already heading out. Disapproval, the wingleader has it. B'ky sighs, shaking his head somewhat, and then asking Marika, "When she returns, please let her know, firelizards are not to be left in here? Faranth knows, we have enough problems already." And if the critter does cause trouble, it's likely B'ky or one of his wingriders will have a dragon give it a not so gentle mental nudge. The wingleader inclines his head to Marika, and then moves further into the cavern, the work neverending, alas.

Marika nods slowly, looking a little sheepish. "All… not in the line of duty. Sir, Galina." she responds, to the thanks for help, before setting the crowbar away, and heading back to the door. On the way back, she gives the firelizard-guarded crate a wide berth. She frowns a little, and nods at B'ky. "Yes sir, I'll pass that along, sir." she assures the man, looking a little to eager to be rid of the firelizard, really.