"Talking, yeah." Al didn't like this one bit. Worse than being chewed out was being led along like a horse chasing a carrot. They wanted something from Thrace, he realized, and he figured it probably had something to do with all the parts hanging around. He picked one up and turned it around in his hands. For now, he'd keep quiet.
He recited the laundry list of charges against his companion in his head, trying to add up the years he thought she might serve. Couldn't she had just taken him up on his offer all those weeks ago? He would have weaseled her into some place for training and she could have come to fly for the Navy. It would have worked out so well. Of course, they might have still be sitting under scrutiny and awaiting punishment, knowing their ability to find trouble, but at least she wouldn't have had to steal to fly.
Foster moved some of the strewn objects compulsively, his expression tight and controlled at that moment. "Can you tell us where you were planning to go, Miss Thrace? You had to have had a destination. A motive would be nice, also. We didn't find any additional weapons. What were you planning to do with the aircraft?"
This, Al wanted to hear as well, so he turned his attention to her and rubbed at his temple. He had some guesses about Starbuck, but most of them were completely wild conjecture thought up while reciting stories to fellow officers. Whether she knew it or not, she'd become a bit of a talking point for two weeks or so before fading from the Bingo-fostered limelight.
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He recited the laundry list of charges against his companion in his head, trying to add up the years he thought she might serve. Couldn't she had just taken him up on his offer all those weeks ago? He would have weaseled her into some place for training and she could have come to fly for the Navy. It would have worked out so well. Of course, they might have still be sitting under scrutiny and awaiting punishment, knowing their ability to find trouble, but at least she wouldn't have had to steal to fly.
Foster moved some of the strewn objects compulsively, his expression tight and controlled at that moment. "Can you tell us where you were planning to go, Miss Thrace? You had to have had a destination. A motive would be nice, also. We didn't find any additional weapons. What were you planning to do with the aircraft?"
This, Al wanted to hear as well, so he turned his attention to her and rubbed at his temple. He had some guesses about Starbuck, but most of them were completely wild conjecture thought up while reciting stories to fellow officers. Whether she knew it or not, she'd become a bit of a talking point for two weeks or so before fading from the Bingo-fostered limelight.