Three more turns should do it. Afterwards, the job was complete, and what a well done job it was. There was definitely a drink well-earned beckoning at the bar. Sami admired his handiwork with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face. 

[b]"And that's how you fix the pistons on a Vertibird"[/b], Sami proudly stated. Pistons were his bread and butter, a life spent on the lower decks of Rivet City made sure of that. They weren't difficult to repair, but the young Initiate stood next to him didn't know that.

[b]"Were you actually paying attention? Do you think you could do it next time?"[/b], Sami asked, being playfully condescending to the fresh-faced young lad. He couldn't have been older than 18, his poor excuse of facial hair attested to that. [b]"Yes sir! At least I think so, sir!"[/b], replied the Initiate, overeagerly, he was obviously enjoying not being scrutinised by a stern commanding officer. The last few hours spent with Sami had relaxed the kid a bit, but he still had a military-sized stick up his ass. 

[b]"Cut the 'Sir!' shit, alright? I don't care about any of that. Just call me Sami, please"[/b]. The Initiate hesitated, seemingly unsure on whether or not it was a test. Presumably he had been subject to such deception before. However, he gambled: [b]"Alright, Sami then. Thanks for showing me, I learned a lot today".[/b] Sami huffed, but felt nice after being appreciated. "[b]There's only so much staring at manuals all day can teach ya. Gotta get your hands dirty to really understand what's going on with this sorta stuff."[/b]

The sun had long set, and Sami had finished his scheduled work well before that. The young recruit had come to him personally to ask him to impart any mechanical knowledge. Clearly word had gotten around that he'd been relocated to the Prydwen. He never fancied himself as a teacher, but the kid was eager to learn and Sami was more than happy to oblige. Maybe one day, when he needed to settle down, he'd consider it an option to pass on his skills to the next generation. But that day was far, FAR away. Speaking of which... 

[b]"Anyway, best you run along. It was nice meeting you kid. What you say your name was, again? George?". 

"Danny."[/b]

Sami chuckled at his own failure to remember the name. He was never good with names, and it's landed him in trouble plenty of times and probably will plenty more. [b]"Close enough. See you around, Danny. I'll let you know if I need any help with fixing anything".[/b] With that, Sami waved the boy away and began to pack his tools up. He wasn't going to see the kid around anytime soon, tomorrow was the day that his mission would begin. Whatever it was, Sami felt that it would take a while. The Brotherhood is never usually this secretive about assignments unless it was something big and/or important. He wasn't so sure now just why the hell he had volunteered, he chalked it up to just another dumb spur-of-the-moment decisions in a long line of them. Besides, he could use the break from the whole Jessica-Rhia-Kiki love polygon situation that had become heated back in the Citadel. 

His tools packed, Sami walked back to his cabin to drop them off before heading to the bar, it's metallic siren song calling to his ears. Along the way he passed many familiar and friendly faces, and exchanged waves, clicks, winks and inside jokes appropriately. It was nice to be known and to see the same people frequently, and nicer still to be viewed in a good light by most. Sure as hell beats wondering if a stranger is going to put a bullet in your back if you turn around. Sami eventually reached his cabin, opened the door, and threw the bag of tools by his bed, still predictably unmade from the previous night. There was no time for cleanliness. He had a date tonight. 

He didn't know who she was, and she didn't know who he was. She didn't even know that she was having a date. But some lucky girl somewhere on this floating giant was about to strike gold. At least for the night. Sami made sure to throw on some cologne, but not too much. The aroma of the spirit laced his skin with the smoky yet florally odor that had become notorious among the denizens of the Capital Wasteland. Or so Sami liked to think. If he was indeed going on a dangerous mission to Fuck-Knows-Where at the crack of dawn, Sami was going to make the best of his secured time left on this Earth. 

With a self-assured smirk to his reflection, Sami left his cabin and headed towards the Prydwen's only watering hole. There were not many there at this time of night, it was just after evening meal and the mess hall was suddenly void of hungry grunts that needed their daily fill of gruel only to go back to training or shooting. Sami had eaten his own food prior to helping young Danny out with his practical homework. His stomach already lined, he approached the bar and sat at one of the tattered red stools. There was nobody else in sight actuslly at the bar, and the bartender looked half shocked to hear Sami order a vodka on the rocks. The slim barman obliged, however and slid over a short glass filed with transparent cubes covered by equally transparent liquid, with the faint wisp of some sort of vapour emitting from the meeting of ice and spirit. Sami effortlessly caught the glass and raised it to his lips, letting the vodka pour into his dry mouth and overun it with the taste of sophisticated, smooth potato nectar. That hit the spot.

His thirst quenched, Sami looked around to see who else was lurking around the mess hall at this unsocial time to be here. There was a middle-aged scribe sat scribbling into his journal something about something else, two Knights in fatigues sat silently and melancholically next to each other over a couple of beers, and a young female Initiate sat reading over a dark spirit of some kind. There was only one obvious choice of companion. Before he approached, Sami ordered a bottle of the vodka he had just sampled, leaving a pile of caps on the bar as he caressed his new purchase as well as pinching two glasses between his thumb and finger.

Confidently, Sami strided over to the woman and sat opposite her, placing both bottle and glass down onto the bench table carefully but assertively. The woman glanced over her book and raised an eyebrow, before casting her eyes back at the book and placing it page-down on the table, her attention fully aimed at what Sami had to say for himself.

[b]"Hi."[/b] No fancy words, no need for cheesy pick-up lines, no random facts aimed at icebreaking. Sami didn't need that superficial bullshit. He's gotten by just fine with his good lucks and natural charm. And [i]the smile[/i], the smile gets them every time. And it was absolutely on show right now. 

[b]"Hi"[/b], the woman retorted, clearly expecting an explanation from such a bold entrance. She looked unimpressed, but they all usually do, at first. 

[b]"I'm Sami, my moms called me Samuel, but I don't think I suit that, do you?"[/b]. His dark eyes scanned what was in front of him, but they didn't break contact with the Initiate's hazle ones. In his peripheral, he could see a pretty young woman who knew it but didn't flaunt it. She had a light complexition and skin like porcelain, with her woodish brown hair tied in a high ponytail, typical of a military girl. Her face was bordering on gaunt as her cheekbones were very prominent and her jawline well-defined. She'd have made an much-desired fashion model in the Old World for sure, however this New one doesn't allow for such professions to exist. 

[b]"I can think of a few names for you right now"[/b], she icily replied, but with enough hint of playfulness to not be perceived as outright dismissal. These Brotherhood girls were often as cold as the Steel they represent and just as difficult to get through to, but Sami had evolved to become quite the metalsmith in his time at the Citadel. He knew exactly how to play it. 

Sami chuckled in response, and started to pour the vodka in each glass. [b]"So, what you been reading there..."[/b] Sami intentionally traild off to allow for the Initiate to state her name, which she did after a quick pause. [b]"Jill"[/b]. Sami repeated it, careful to not make the mistake he did with David earlier. He slid over the second glass to Jill, who accepted it gladly. The two chinked their glasses in salutations, with Sami giving a cunning nod and a smirk as they did.

[b]"Strategic guidelines for small arms contact. Don't suppose you'd know much about that, would you, [i]flyboy?"[/i][/b], Jill teased. It seems that the ice and spirit had melted her cold guard, ironically enough.

[b]"Ooooh![/b], the Lancer cracked his head back and howled in faux-shock while chuckling. [b]Did you just insult a higher-ranking officer? You're on your way to a Court Marshall, [i]Initiate[/i]"[/b], Sami replied, his threats quite clearly without any seriousness. Jill smiled and looked downwards towards the table before looking back at Sami. Sami continued with his verbal chess, [b]"BUT! I think I can let you get away with such a crass display of subordination on one condition"[/b].

[b]"And what's that, [i]sir[/i]?"[/b], retorted Jill. 

[b]"Have a few free drinks with this 'flyboy' who's away on a top-secret and dangerous mission tomorrow. If you're not too busy with anything else?"[/b]. Sami cracked [i]the smile[/i] once again, he was almost within checkmate, he just knew it. [b]"Alright, I think I can handle that"[/b], the young woman responded.

The two talked about everything that came to mind over the next couple of hours. Jill was an orphan from some ruin in DC, her parents slain by Super Mutants while she was barely out of her teens. Her story was one of the many similar ones that occurred before the Brotherhood had managed to secured the area and exterminated or relocated the Super Mutant scourge. It didn't make it any easier to hear, and Sami of course felt saddened by her history. They bonded over shared stories of wacky things around DC and their love-hate relationship with Three Dog on the radio. Things got deeper as the vodka set in, talking about their parents and how they missed them but didn't need them in the end. 

She was a nice girl, and Sami felt genuinely fond of her by the time they realised they had finished the bottle. Jill had left behind the cool, calculated persona she had fronted against Sami's incursion. Now intoxicated, she found herself uncontrollably giggling at the most mundane of things, and Sami was giggling right with her. In between the chaos of their hilarious conversations, Sami had managed to convince her to sample a some "Mar-Tie-Nigh" that he had back in his cabin, and promised that when paired with vodka, it was liquid bliss. 

Jill was more than happy to accept the invitation, and the two just about managed to order another bottle of vodka through heavily-slurred words and clumsy gestures. The pair fumbled their way through the Prydwen to Sami's cabin, singing songs they had heard on the radio together, much to the grumbles of soldiers long since in their beds.

One can probably assume what eventually happened after the door closed.


__________________________________________________


The hangover hit before consciousness did. Before Sami had even opened his eyes, he felt an solid iron ball rolling about in his skull and the echoes of good times long since passed ringing in his ears. Agonised groans soon followed as he rotated his uncooperative corpse upwards, grimacing throughout. It took a few moments before he dared let the light in, however dimmed it was.
As his senses rebooted, the revenant man laid still, waiting. Eventually, his body informed him of quite a draught that caused his muscles to contort and shiver, his head slowly rising supported by an unwilling neck as he inspected the reasoning behind why he was suddenly cold. 

Oh. He was naked. That'll be why. 

Feeling somewhat more like a human being, Sami turned his attention to his surroundings. It was his room, of course, but he doesn't remember quite how he got there. Usually that means a 50/50 chance of it being a good thing or a great thing. He glanced right to determine which it had been last night. To his smug amusement, it had apparently been a great one. Laid next to him was a similarly naked woman, still zonked out and possibly drooling, but certainly hogging the majority of the bedsheets. To alleviate his shivers, Sami slowly shimmied out of the bed, taking care not to wake his company, and found some clothes to put on. He settled for some black fatigue pants and a woolen jumper that was  baggy and cozy. 

After getting some water (quietly) from the sink on the other side of the room, Sami sat in silence as he tried to battle the disease occuring inside of him stemming from his trademark hedonistic overindulgence. In between, he tried to recollect the events of the prior evening. Shitty stew. Vodka martinis. Steamy bed activities. Seemed like a standard affair.
He attempted to identify the young lady who's face was half buried into the mattress and the rest into her own armpit. She was Initiate, Sami was 70% sure, but where was she from again? Megaton? A Vault? The details escaped him, as did her name. He was pretty sure it began with J. Or was it G? He knew that he liked her regardless, he remembered that much.

Shit! What time was it?!

Sami dashed across the room to check his bedside clock, all pretense of subtlety and consideration for the sleep of his companion vanished. She stirred from the noise of Sami's panic, but did not wake. Sami clumsily picked up the clock, and almost dropped it repeatedly in his hurry.

03:34. He'd almost completely fucked it. But not quite.

This phrase had pretty much become his motto at this point in his life, but it's all worked out pretty well so far. Sami quickly got dressed in his Lancer overalls, shredding the cobbled together garments he had previously settled for, and scrambled to find the rest of his gear. He put on his grey woolen coat, collected his ammunition and belt, and grabbed his tool bag and submachine gun as he stumbled out of the door, leaving Jill (he had somehow remembered in the franticness of his getting ready) to snooze. There wasn't time to say goodbye, but for once, Sami wanted to. He didn't usually have the courtesy. 

Walking the corridors of the airship, Sami was still very much drunk. He hoped to whatever gods above that he sobered up within the next half an hour. The Lancer cursed as he rushed to the docks and to the Vertibird that he was due to fly, or so he assumed. He arrived at the bay to see a Knight waiting by a Vertibird, fully clad in the signature power armour the Brotherhood of Steel was known, and feared, for. Sami guessed that he must be one of his passengers for the mission, why else would he be suited and booted at this hour?

Sami cleared his throat and rubbed his face and eyes before going over. [i]'Get yourself together, Samuel'[/i], he could hear the ghosts of his father and mother say. The Knight was distant, lost deep in thought as Sami hobbled towards the Vertibird, but as he came closer he caught the attention of the armoured soldier. His face wasn't recognisable, Sami hadn't really spent a lot of time with the Knights and soldiers of the Brotherhood, he merely dropped them off. He knew a fair few though, but not this one.

Ever confident, doubly so when attempting to compensate for his groggy state that he hoped nobody would notice, Sami dropped his bags and offered his hand to the Knight for a introductory handshake.

"[b]Hey. Name's Sami. I'm the pilot for this mystery flight to Nowhere."[/b]