Domestic Matters
Domestic Matters
Summary: As things in the Fleet calm down, Rhea deals with some family business.
Date: 10 BCH
Related Logs: None
Players:
Rhea..Reed..Salin..Isabeau..

-=============================================================================-
Botanical Labs Support Station PAS - Deck 2

10 ACH 6735 Souls


This area is a large place, leading into the inner workings of the deck. From the Science Labs, there is a small control bank of consoles showing various environmental screens detailing the situations of several different simulated climates in the area. Past that a walkway leads to hatches that extend to sectioned off areas. Each area is a simulated environment with plants carefully cultivated and growing within. From gardens to shrubs and small trees, to large tanks with aquatic kelp and seaweed growing within, the reinforced walls of the areas keep the sections seperate.

-----< Condition Two - Duty Area >----——
Contents: Reed Rhea Wireless 747
Exits: [O] Out
-=============================================================================-

Reed is under the walkway, down in one of the furthest areas of the labs, working on one of the larget empty tanks. crewmen and the like snap to upon being bathed in the glow of Rheas Majorness.

Rhea makes her way into the lab as quietly as possible. Back in khakis rather than her officer blues. Trying to blend. They still snap. She suppresses a sigh, returning the salutes and quickly saying "At ease" so they'll stop.

Reed comes visible down the walkway as he pulls himself up the ladder from the lower levels of the labs nd turns, white lab coat moving around his blues as he starts walking deeper into the enclosed jungle of the botanical creations.

Rhea relaxes as the crewman go back to work, smirking to herself, shaking her head a little. She acquires a lab coat from one of the helpful techs, shrugging it on. She's getting less awkward about slipping into the things. Once she's garbed, she strides toward the jungle, to meet up with Reed. "You told them to do that, didn't you?" she says wryly, as to the earlier snapping. "Probably saw me coming on the security feeds a shuttle away. You're a cruel man, Major Carter. So cruel."

Reed turns, brows raised to Rhea and smiles, "Hardly. From now on your life will be walking the razors edge of not wanting people to snap to or announce your presence on deck, or being annoyed when they don't do it, because you have to look out for military discipline." He approaches a huge transparent tank. While it appears empty, a few adjustments on the controls, and bubbles come from a spot inside it and the water within starts to cloud.

Rhea chuckles, following Reed to his bubbling tank. "I've been through worse. Every promotion since I left the enlisted ranks has been traumatic in one manner or another. Worst was when I made Captain. I got a bounce when I transferred from Scorpia to Picon, but they made me a Three-M." She smirks. "Maintenance Materials Management. They need administrators at Fleet Headquarters more than mechanics. I spent three of years behind a desk. I was miserable." She hastily, and half-guiltily, adds, "Professionally. The post had its trade-offs. Anyhow. What've you got in this thing?"

Reed listens, nodding, and smiling, at the thought of Rhea desk bound, he shakes his head, "Cannot imagine you behind a desk, shocked you didn't chew your way out from behind it." He turns to the controls. "Water, heavily bonded with extra oxygen and infused with nutrients. The planet we're orbiting is called Muskeg. Been surveyed before, but not since just after the last war. Swamp. All of it, no continents attached to the planetary crust at all. All landmasses are free floating structures. Interesting, but I'm more concerned about the eco system. Might be the solution to the food problem. Not that you're off the hook on those protein resequencers." He works the controls some more, "How's the Sula?"

"There were heavy casualties. The office equipment had to undergo counseling after I left. To recover from the trauma," Rhea says dryly, as to her desk days. She leans forward, to poke her nose closer to the tank. "Sounds tastier than electrified resequenced proteins. But, I was always a terrible cook. I'll make you up something soon, though. It's our priority now that the Sula is in jumping order." As to the ship itself, she does some more smirking. "It's moving a little smoother, though it'll never be exactly an enjoyable ride. Thanks for the hands. Frankly, I'm just glad the thing isn't in several hundred pieces out in space somewhere, with my innards fused to its fractured hull."

Reed works the controls a bit more, and looks to Rhea, intently for a moment. "How's she feel now that she's had the work done on her?"

"Better," Rhea says, turning away from her staring at the tank, to Reed. She crooks a faint smile. "She doesn't lurch and try to dash your skull against the walls, at least. I'm kind of proud of that scow, actually." She shrugs. "It wasn't exactly a revolutionary moment in hyperlight technology, but she'll do."

Reed grins widely. "When I came down from the FTL test here, I felt different. Stronger, like I had connected with something special. Things became clearer, and I felt something I hadn't felt before. A connection to the PAS. the connection between a Commanding Officer and their vessel. A close tie that I hadn't felt for all the time I was overseeing putting her together. We'd been through something. And I haven't felt it since, not even when I took the Pandora into combat and back. Sound familiar?"

"You always remember the first time. Awkward and harrowing as it is," Rhea quips. But she nods, seriously enough. "You would've made a decent engineer. I feel that way every time one of my ships jumps. With the Genny it is like a relationship after this long. A good one. The Valkyries are skippy little things. You put your hands inside an FTL engine, you're touching the heart of a vessel. You and it are working together. Makes you think about it differently."

Reed chuckles, nodding, "Maybe that's it. Not just the Commanding Officer thing." He looks to the tank and smirks, "But, it's good you shook out the Sulas FTL and got her running again, shows the Colonel how good you are in the command seat." He flips a few switches, "He'll remember that."

Rhea snorts. "You keep threatening me with the whole command thing. I don't scare that easy, Carter. I'll leave the whole commander thing to wiser heads than mine. Regas is a good man and I do good work for him. I'm not supposed to be anything but a snipe, and I'm happier for it. Brass aside." She idly reaches up to fiddle with the clusters on her collar. "This is nothing. Just a few less people I have to call 'sir.'" She winks her fellow Major.

Reed considers, "We're at war, things change. Keep it in mind, you may be called upon." He turns thoughtful. "If you want to type up a request for Reece to remain on the PAS instead of being sent to the Carina. as a Civilian unattached to a contractor here, someone might get the idea to clear him out of the station. If you want to ensure him here, I'd need an anchor to keep him here officially. I'll sign it and file it with JAG as soon as it's in my hand."

"I'm too useful to be put in charge of anything," Rhea says firmly. The question of Reece is something she considers more seriously. She sighs. "I don't like the idea of him on the Carina. There are a lot of people there in very difficult straights. And it's…separated from the military in ways this place isn't. I'm sure there are people there who could deal with kids easier than your lot can here but…I don't know. I should talk it over with him first. I just hate uprooting him again with everything going on."

Reed nods, "I'll put him into a procedural holding pattern until you two decide. He won't be transferred off when we hit condition three with the others, but he won't be permanent on the PAS either. I can't keep that up long, so if you could send me a message I can release him for transfer or print out, sign and file to JAG, I'd appreciate it." He snaps a switch closed and looks to Rhea. "How're you?"

"I'll get it done with the JAG today. One way or another. Who knows. The idea of living on a sports ship may be too much for him to resist. I don't think I'd have the heart to say no." Rhea sighs. "It's not fair to you to ask you to keep him on here. With me on the Genesis, the way things are. It's just…this is place is as close to home as anything he's had in the past year." As to that last question, she shrugs. "Busy. Busy with the Sula, with the protein resequencers, with my snipes, with Reece…it makes it easier, you know? If you keep moving."

Reed nods, "I want him safe. I want him where you feel he's safe. But I want what's best for him too and I know my wants have exactly zero bearing on things. But the options are yours for you two to decide." He straightens then and moves from the water tank to some of the more interesting enclosures, gesturing her to follow, "I understand, trust me, keeping going and moving and doing things was what helped me keep it together. Now, I'm a little more relaxed."

"The Carina's an unknown. He's safe here with you. I don't *feel* that. I *know* that," Rhea says firmly. Regarding Reed. "I'll talk my son and I'll get you any paperwork you need." Her brows arch, when he mentions being more relaxed. "You got some form of enlightenment working in these spiffy new engines or yours? Or are you and Jesse just keeping the good drugs to yourselves?"

Reed smirks, looking to a new enclosure, where some shrubs are growing. "I have a high pain tolerance." he says, the smile not in his eyes for a moment, then he lightens up a bit, "But, I'm waiting for the inevitable question of coffee plants being grown here. that's not something I'm looking forward to."

"Not running low on coffee, are you?" Rhea asks wryly. "That would not be pretty. I went off the stuff when I was pregnant. I was *not* a pleasant person to be around. For a variety of reasons, but caffeine withdrawal was one of the less fun ones for everyone concerned. You dig yourself up a botanist to get on that problem. Maybe have them grow some tobacco, too. We all have our little vices." She tilts her head at Reed, smirk crooking. "What *is* yours, by the way? You seem very composed. It's unnerving."

Reed chuckles, "No, not yet, we have coffee stores, but it's finite, and we don't have the room to grow field crops, neither coffee nor tobacco. We'll need to work substitutes out. That's doable, but we're not focusing on it at the moment. I'm still trying to cram biological and botanical knowledge into my brain, and we've been digging for botanists and biologists." He shrugs, "My vice? Well, it's not coffee or tobacco. I dunno, I've been kind of thrown into the air with all that's been going on, I realized what's been fueling me for the last.. Oh, ever since I got off the Pandora from first Cylon contact has been guilt, hidden away in my head, and now that I see it I'm waiting to talk it over with LT Sloan." He trails off, expression intently thoughtful, "Need to clean out my head a little and she's qualified with the broom." He shrugs, "you want to know what I do to feel better?"

"Sloan? Good. Good for you. She seems very competent about that sort of thing," Rhea says with a little nod. "I've been thinking of trying to send some of my snipes her way. Or to the chaplain, if they're more comfortable with that. I'm not, particularly but…the whole spiritual things gives comfort to some people." She shrugs, brows arching, still smiling faintly. "I don't think you have anything to feel any guiltier about than the rest of us. And yeah. I'm curious. What?"

Reed smiles, nodding, "I'm sure you'll understand, but come on, let me show you." He pulls off his lab coat heading for the exit.

Rhea smirks. Curious. "Right behind you," she says dryly. Her own lab coat is shrugged off and she trails him.

Reed racks his coat, and heads off.

Reed leaves for Science Lab Two [O].
Reed has left.

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CIC/Communications Center Support Station PAS - Deck 4

10 ACH 6735 Souls


The CC of the Support Station PAS, is rather spacious. It has a circle of seats around the large oval area that displays a myriad of consoles for monitoring life support, generators, ship-to-ship terminals, ship-to-ground terminals, a small weapons station and also a large DRADIS. A half moon of space is shown through the viewports. The various stations are manned at all times and people are constantly passing status updates back and forth.

-----< Condition Two - Duty Area >----——
Contents: Reed Rhea CIC Terminal 193

Exits: [O] Out
-=============================================================================-

Reed enters CIC, looking around. People salute and he returns it, moving to the main command consoles, stepping to them and flicking them to life, looking at the station readouts, each monitor showing the PAS systems, from ring power generation, to FTL status, in hot standby at Condition Two, to environmentals, to several streams of data labeled 'Dip-Probe' 'Planetry probe-Land Scan' And others. pictures and numbers coming in. He steps back, looking at the screens, "I like to watch this, be here, look at everything." He looks up to the overhead DRADIS monitors, "From here, you can see just about everything. From our position and everyone else's to the probes we're looking Muskeg over with."

Rhea follows Reed into CIC. She returns any salutes she's given, dispensing with the protocols as quickly as possible as she takes a long look around the place. "It's roomier than the one on the Genny," she observes. She goes to peek at the power systems' console first. To watch the engines. But she gradually drifts next to him, to gaze up at the DRADIS. "Zeus on your little mountaintop." It's a joke, but she's not making fun, really. She nods a little to herself. "I get it. Makes everything feel smaller. Like you've got a handle things. Being in the engine room makes me feel like that."

Reed nods, turning to Rhea, "I knew you were going to say that. That you got the same feeling in the engine room. Yes. lets you feel like you've got everyhting in front of you and you can see any problems coming. Sometimes you need to feel like you have your back to a sturdy wall and this gives me that sense of having things covered." He smiles, looking at the screens, "This is my girl, and I'm proud of her."

Rhea can't help smiling as well. Aww. "It's simpler with me. I'm a control freak. Part of what makes me a good engineer. No better place to be than with your hand on the power switch."

Reed looks to Rhea, and grins, nodding. "I understand. Real control is in engineering, at the beating heart of the whole ship." "Sir." A voice from a console in the back, "Dip Data comparison is coming up now, sir." Reed nods, "Fine." He flips a switch and a split screen of data reads out, matches in green. Most of it is green, what isn't green is yellow. Reed nods, "That's what I thought. Muskeg is more or less unchanged in the last thirty seven years. I think we know what to expect down there."

Rhea grins, nodding shortly as to the engines being the beating heart of a ship. Damn straight. She peers up at the monitor with the data on Muskeg, brow furrowing. "So we're really going to mine food from this thing? What's it going to give us? I know seaweed is edible but the prospect of living on it makes me rethink the hearty taste of resequenced protein."

Reed grins, "Well, Muskeg is unsuitable for colonization, won't take structures. They tried once and the structures sank." Careful, Rhea, you've awoken the Terraforming ecologist. "No, a swamp ecosystem has one of the most sophisticated ecosystems there is. There's all manners of edible creatures down there, according to the data we've got. there's no real seaweed down there, either. But there is a thriving animal population. We need to go down there, catch some of it and try to transplant a large breeding colony to here. that's what the water is for you say earlier. Some plant life from down there, and maybe some fish, something that breeds fast, grows quickly and is sustainable. That's out food source I'm looking for, meat."

Rhea just grins when Reed goes off on his ecological tangent. She has appreciation for all things nerdy. "Fish?" That's a little more appetizing than seaweed. "See if you can find some crustaceans. I have a taste for Scorpian lobster. How long do you think we'll be parked here, for foraging?"

Reed looks to Rhea, "Hey, we're already trying to breed the crabs we got off the Carina. There's a small breeding colony of the things in the labs we just came from off the crab resteraunt there. If we can keep them going, which I don't see any reason we can't we should be able to restock the resteraunt and keep that source going. We just need to take the pressure off so we don't have to eat them all." He looks back to the screens, "And that planet's the key."

Rhea makes a soft "Mmm" sound at the crabs. "Seafood restaurant, huh? I should head over to the Carina and have a proper look at the place. Even if Reece won't be taking up residence there. The repairs there were minor. My senior techs took care of it without me having to set foot on the boat. Those luxury ships always kind of amused me. If you want to go to such great lengths to make people forget they're in space, why even leave a colony?"

[Intercom] Attention! Set Condition Three throughout the fleet.

Reed smiles, "You'll love it, then, laugh your ass off. There's a lake and grass, and a stadium. I went on a survey trip when I got the roll-" He looks up, and turns, "Confirm that, Condition Three, all stations."

"A frakking lake?" Rhea does get a good laugh out of that. But the announcement takes her mind off chortling at the Carina's expense. She actually does relax a notch, leaning against one of the consoles. Grinning. "About time."

Reed moves around the console. A voice from the back, "Aye sir, Condition Three confirmed at all stations." A man walks into the CIC, looking around, "Just on time to go on shift." Reed looks at the man and straightens, "Dreavers, just in time, you have the Conn. Enjoy condition Three." He reaches up to unbutton his duty flap, and turns to the CIC, "Thank you all, relax a bit. We've all earned it." Reed claps a few times as people breathe out a sigh of relief and a few cheer. First condition three since the attacks.

Rhea seems half-surprised by how good Condition Three feels. She takes another deep breath and lets it out, savoring it. "Well. I should go see if I can shake down some lawyers before they all sneak off to their bunks. I'll leave to your mountain, Carter." Not that she takes off right away. "That reminds me. I still owe you a drink. Captain Desusa gave me a fine bottle of Picon rum. I wouldn't mind sharing a little."

Reed moves to Rhea, nodding, "You do that. I'll see you later, and I'll take you up on that drink later." He sighs, "It's good to be here."

"It's good to be anywhere just now," Rhea says softly. "But here's not too bad." She offers him a nod and a parting, "Major" before striding off.

-=============================================================================-
JAG Office Genesis - Deck 11

10 ACH 6735 Souls


The office of the Judge Advocate General is a normal office room in apperance, with a pair of desks and a bookshelf in one corner containing legal texts and referance materials. Each desk has a computer terminal on it and built in set of drawers. Across from the chair behind each desk is a pair of chairs for interviewees to be seated.

----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-
Contents: Rhea Salin

Exits: [O] Out
-=============================================================================-

It's hard to determine time on a battlestar, but for the most part, it seems to be considered 'evening' at the moment. Most of the staff in the Naval Offices seems to have departed for the 'night', though one secretary remains and that's the one that happens to be seated outside the doorway to the JAG Office. The doorway is opened and Salin can clearly be seen within, seated behind his desk and shuffling through a variety of papers that litter the top of the desk.

Rhea is enters the offices, armed with a folder. She stops at the secretary's desk, going over some preliminaries, before she's pointed into Salin proper. She still knocks on the door, open though it is. "Captain. You look buried in dead trees."

The knock draws Salin's attention from the papers to the woman in the door and he's offering a faint smile before a hand lifts, motioning for her to enter, "I'm afraid you're right there, Major." A drift of his eyes down to the papers and then he's looking back up, "Been alot of amendment's to wills and a variety of other legal inquiries, considering the circumstances." A couple of papers are shuffled to the side and he's motioning towards the chair, "What can I do for you?"

Rhea smirks as she's 'Major'd. "I'm still getting used to that." She slips properly into his office. At the mention of wills she nods, sighing. "Yeah. I should think about some of that, myself. But, not today. This should be fairly minor but I'd appreciate it if you could get it taken care of quickly." She sets the folder on his desk. "Major Carter suggested I put some things down in writing about my son's housing situation. The personnel on the PAS has always kept an eye on him. There are provisions for military brats there, though there aren't usually enough for it to be too much of a concern. But I'm not technically stationed there. The major was concerned some questions might come up about my son's status, as he's technically a civilian. I'd like to keep him housed on the PAS and the major's amenable to the arrangement. I just want something in writing to make my wishes clear, so some concerned body doesn't try to shunt him off to the Carina."

There's a soft chuckle and Salin's giving a slight nod of his head, "Promotions .. takes some getting used to, doesn't it?" Then, he falls quiet, taking to listening to the situation before looking down towards the folder that's been placed upon his desk. Lifting his gaze again, there's another quick nod, "Well, this should be pretty easy to accomplish. I'm aware of the professions and regulations for children on the PAS and since the Genesis doesn't allow it, it's probably the best place for him, considering." A hand moves to pop open a desk draw and he's withdrawing a small notepad and a pen, "What I can do, is draft up a standard housing agreement document. Have both you and Major Carter sign it and then we can file it away. That'll ensure that everything is taken care of."

Rhea nods to Salin. "That sounds fine. Put a line on it for my son to sign as well, while you're at it. I know it's not technically necessary. He's a minor, I'm his legal guardian. But we talked it over. It's his decision as much as mine. I want him to know that." She smiles, looking rather proud. "I was kind of afraid the idea of living on a sports ship would tempt him. But the PAS is the only home he's had for the past year." She smirks. "Though I think he may lobby the station engineers for a Pyramid stadium of his very own. And a lake."

There's a soft laugh and Salin's giving a nod of his head, "Well it's typically not normal to alter the forms in that manner, I don't see how it could hurt given the circumstances of it. I'll make sure to include a signature block for him, as well." There's a slight cant of his head, followed by an arch of his brow and then he's offering another soft chuckle, "A Pyramid Stadium and a lake? I'd love to be there when that request crosses Carter's desk." The notepad is set down and he's leaning back slightly, "Shouldn't take me long to draft up the form. Once it's done, I can shanghai you, your son and Major Carter for a quick meeting so we can get the signatures at the same time, rather then sending runners all over the ship and station."

Rhea smiles at the JAG. "Thanks," she says simply. "I will be at your beck and call for shanghai'ing, as it were." She chuckles. "I need to get over to the Carina and take a look at that thing one of these days. I've heard it's incredible. The luxury liners have always kind of amused me. So much money spent to convince space travelers they…aren't traveling in space."

"Excellent. I shall make a record of your availability for shanghai'ing." There's another quick nod from Salin and at the mention of the Carina, he offers a quick smile, "It's quite the sight, I must admit. After our last department head meeting, I made my way over to have a look around. I'm pondering how I can convience the Colonel for the need to move my office over there." He turns in his chair, motioning to the windowless bulkhead behind him, "I have been having visions of a grand office, with a window overlooking the Pyramid Courts." Turning back, a grin rests lightly upon his lips, "And yes, wishful thinking, I know."

Rhea laughs. "Maybe you can commandeer one of the luxury box seats. It sounds like you'll more than earn it. I don't envy you that task. The colonel seems convinced the civilians will be constantly rioting and crying by turns." Her tone is wry. "I'd like to think they won't be quite that bad. But it's still a hell of a job."

The mention of luxury box seats has Salin giving a soft snicker, "I've thought about it. Would be an interesting change from the grey walls of the Genesis." The grin fades from his lips and he's quiet for a moment before he finally gives a nod, "It's an interesting and difficult job. The Civilians are concerned about a variety of things, including who's enforcing the laws and who they can go to. As for rioting? I don't think we'll get there .. but then again, one never knows. I'm just trying to sort through the variety of issues that they've started to bring forth."

"I suspect if we're fair and respectful with them they'll respond in kind," Rhea says. "But, I've always gotten along fine with civilians. I still feel like one myself, in a lot of ways. Even after all the years I've spent in the Navy. I'm more of a foreman than a soldier." She shrugs. "You have any idea how many other children were with the Carina? I heard one of the contractors found her girl on the ship. Almost enough to make me believe in miracles, that." Almost.

"To be honest, I've always felt like a Civilian. My place in the Navy, while necessary, isn't one that's always liked by most personel. Especially when we're involved in investigations and court martials. But, such is the nature of the beast." Salin gives a quick shrug of his shoulders before he's leaning back in his chair slightly, "Havn't gotten a firm number yet. Waiting on the XO to pass those details down to me. And, I heard the same thing. Her daughter ended up on PAS for treatment or something. Was good to hear, in light of the circumstances. Some happiness, amongst the darkness."

Rhea nods at that, with some sympathy. "You keep us honest, Captain. Not everyone likes to know they're actually accountable for their actions. We're held to a higher standard than civilians in a lot of ways. I, for one, think that's just fine. But you'll forgive me if I say I hope I'm not in need of your services on anything more serious than family paperwork." Another nod for the rest. "My son's the only thing keeping me sane right now. Anyway, there will certainly be more spawns now than there were with the just the PAS. The services for children there are pretty rudimentary. Not that it ever really mattered before. Reece is twelve. Old enough not to need his hand held, and it's not like I'm far off. Most of the younger children have a parent along, either a contractor or their spouse. And the PAS is very contained. Safe. One of the reasons I want Reece to stay there. I imagine dealing with the younglings on the Carina could get more…complicated."

Salin offers a smile of thanks at the nod, "It's unfortunate, that we have to keep people honest. But, that's a conversation for another day and one that the Pysche can offer more insight into. I'll just make sure I'm far away from that one." A quick grin and then he's giving a nod of his head own, "Good idea, Major. I'd prefer to avoid having to provide my services for anything beyond routine paperwork such as this issue and wills. Easier that way, on everyone." The mention of the children services as him 'hrmming' softly, "Services for Children is something that's going to have to be looked into. I don't think the Carina is setup to handle the influx of spawns, as it's primary purpose was a sports luxury. Hopefully, the Colonel will get something organized to help the youth out. While we can adapt and conform to the situations, the youth will have a harder time. And we need to make sure they are still looked after."

"I wouldn't wait for the Colonel if I were you," Rhea says dryly. "Regas is a good man. But, in general, the military is very bad at remembering people have personal lives. Poke him about yourself if you want to get anything done. My son, I can deal with. The rest will need looking after. Clear rules, some sort of education…I just hope the ones we've got still have at least one parent with them. Poor kids."

"I intend to poke the Colonel. Hard. Because while we're a Military missions, there's no reinforcements for the forseeable future. Those Civilians, are going to be people that we're going to need to turn to at some point. And I'd like to think that we've looked after them well enough, for them to be willing to help without us forcing them." There's a wistful sigh from Salin as he brings his hands to clasp together in his lap, "Can't comment about the parenting situation, at the moment. I intend to try and find out what we're looking at over there, though. So we can see about placing kids who have lost their parents. The big thing right now, is that they are wondering where they stand. Colonel's going to need to decide if he wants to allow a civilian police force, or if he's going to have the Marines handle policing over there. Next, as you've said, is education."

Rhea winces at the mention of police. "I remember growing up on Sagittaron, they had to send the Marines in a couple times. To 'quell the populace.'" She sneers, before she can stop herself, and it takes her a moment to smooth her face. "The military fights the enemy. Police protect the people. Those are two pretty different mind-sets." She shrugs. "But, that is for wiser heads than mine. I just play with my engines, and I'm a happier woman for it. As I said, I don't envy you." She stands. "I'll leave you to it. Thanks, Captain."

The sneer is noted and Salin is slowly nodding his head in agreement, "You've nailed it right on the head with that statement, Major. Wish more people saw it in the same light that you do." As you begin to rise, Salin does as well and he's extending a hand across the desk, "Not a problem, Major and it's a pleasure. I'll get started on the form now and send a memo through to arrange a time for a quick meeting."

Rhea takes the hand, giving it a firm shake with her own. The ChEng's got a strong grip for a woman her eyes, and more than a few callouses from grubbing around with the engines. "I don't know about that. But thanks. Pleasure's all mine. If your coffee machine ever breaks down, or anything of that nature, just give me a call. Good luck and smooth jumping, Captain Altair. As it were."

Salin's handshake is more a light one, gentle, for he deals with pens and papers, rather then machines and tools. When the handshake ends, he's lowering himself back into his chair, offering a quick smile, "If my coffee machine breaks down, Major, you'll be the first to hear about it. It, unfortunately, is my saviour far too often." He reclaims a couple of papers, but doesn't look down to them yet, "Take care and hopefully you don't find yourself too busy."

"I just keep mine plugged directly into my veins," Rhea says with a chuckle, as to coffee. "Same to you." With that, she's off. Back to her Engine lair.

(…more time later…)

Reed is sitting in front of Salins desk, signing with his gold pen of Majorhood powerz. The Document is a triple signature setup, and Reed is signing the one marked with his typed name. Salin is sitting on the other siode of the desk like old Scratch waiting to collect on Reeds soul and Isabeau is just finishing her wireless call as the smell of freshly brewed coffee is permeating the office.

As Reed begins to sign the document and Isabeau moves to place the call, Salin removes one hand from his desk so that he can pop open one of the drawers. From within, he claims a pen and then drawer is promptly shut. From there, he simply waits for this Major to finish signing and for the other one, to arrive.

Once the call has been placed, Isabeau returns to the coffee pot. Four mugs are filled with the black liquid, "Do you take anything in yours, Major?" She adulterates her own mug, then glances at Salin to see if he wants his the 'usual' way or not. Lifting her mug, she takes a slow sip, then looks toward the door of the office and back again. "It should not be more than a moment, unless I miss my guess."

Rhea is not too long in coming once she gets off the wireless. Her son in tow. The Zimmermanns are audible before they're visible. "*This* way, Reece!" "Mom, I was just…" "There is nothing you need to do down that corridor. Come on. The Colonel will brig you if you wander into a classified area." "No he won't. He's nicer than you."

Reed smiles as he hears the coming of the Zimmermans, and rises, folding the folder around the document, rising to his feet, "Three sugars, please, Lieutenant." He then snaps his hand upward, and the pen vanishes then moves to stand to one side to be in an approperately serious position when the Zimmermans arrive.

Isabeau nods, her smile warming, "Yes, sir." Adding the requested sugars, she stirs the coffee then prepars Salin's in the usual fashion. His is set at his elbow and she places Reed's nearby. Hearing the voices outside, she reaches over her desk to buzz the receptionist, "Please show Major and Master Zimmerman into the inner office, Carlos." Hearing the acknowledgement, she releases the intercom button and turns to half perch on the edge of her desk.

The domestic chatter stops when the Family Zimmermann reaches the JAG office proper. The pair of them are shown in by Carlos. Rhea in her officer blues, her hand on her son's shoulder. Reece Zimmermann is already nearly as tall as his mother and shows every sign he'll tower over her in a few years. With his overlong curly hair one would guess he more resembles his father, though he has some of his mother in his face. Particularly the eyes. "Sorry if we're late. Took a bit to get the boy cleared," Rhea says, nodding to the assembled officers. Reece offers a polite nod to the JAGs and a more casual, "Hey, Major" to Reed. His eyes shift speculatively around the legal office.

Reed smiles to The Zimmermans, and reaches into his duty shirt as his handheld goes off with a silent vibration. "Hello Reece." He says with a slight smile, nodding to Rhea as he takes a step back, letting the JAG officers do the talking as he looks at his handheld, reading something

As the Zimmermann's begin to make their way into the office, Salin rises from his desk and offers a friendly smile to each, followed by a quick nod of his head, "Major. Master Zimmermann." A hand lifts, motioning towards the chairs, "Please, have a seat." Then, unlike Reed's vibration, there's a soft beep from something in his pocket. "Excuse me, for one second." A small handheld is removed so that it can be looked at before he's tossing it onto the desk, his attention returning to Rhea and Reece, "Sorry about that. Glad you two were able to make it."

For her part, Isabeau's handheld is blissfully silent. She smiles at Rhea, "Major. Would you care for a cup of coffee?" Reece is offered another smile, her head inclining a little, "Welcome to the JAG office." She does not offer the boy coffee, nor does she embarass him by offering milk. Her gaze returns to Rhea and, "May I offer your son a soda, ma'am?"

Reece crooks a smirk as he sits. Master Zimmermann? He digs that. Rhea sighs, giving Salin a 'Don't encourage him' sort of look. The boy scoots the form up so he can read it though, after some skimming, he just asks the JAGs what he considers the pertinent question. "So, if I sign this, I don't have to move, right?" Rhea's eyes shift between the beeping and vibrating officers, but most of her attention is on the paper. "Coffee and soda respectively, please. Thanks, Lieutenant," she replies to Isabeau.

Reed reads his mail, not having the option of not reading it. CO and all. He rereads the memo a couple of times, intently, then takes in a silent breath, looking up, and into space. He's getting that 'overclocked' look again, as if his brain just spun up for an FTL jump. He then touches the screen of his handheld, and slips it back away, still staring into space before blinking, and like that, he's back in the here and now. He looks at Reece, then Rhea, but remains silent.

Catching Rhea's look, Salin offers a sympathetic smile, but he's nodding slightly towards Reed, an indication as to where he got the title from. His attention does shift over towards Reece now and Salin is lowering himself back down into his chair, hands coming to clasp together in his lap, "That's right. Now, I know the details of the form can be somewhat confusing." Legal jargon. Only lawyers seem to like it. "But the basics of it are that you'll be allowed to remain on the Station. But .." There is always a but, it would seem, "You need to abide by the rules that Major Carter and your mother have laid out."

Rising from the desk, she walks across to a smallish fridge just under the coffeepot's counter. A soda is retrieved and she brings both coffee and soda to the Zimmerman clan. Rhea is offered the coffee first, though Reece's soda follows shortly thereafter. She glances at Reed as he goes into hyperdrive, then returns. The look of concern in her gaze is a flicker, then gone. Looking back to Rhea, she waits until Salin has explained things before asking, "Cream or sugar, ma'am?" Such gentile trivialities are important. Can't serve a bad cup of coffee, afterall. 'Twould be to fail.

Rhea's attention is on her son and the paper, so she doesn't notice Reed's brain getting spun by his mail right off. "Think you can manage that?" she asks her son with a crooked smile. Reece nods firmly, clearly wanting to get this signed. "Yeah. Cool. Whatever." He seems to realize that was not terribly reassuring and adds, "We're good. I mean, since I guess we're not going back to Picon…the station's good. I promise." He gives Rhea and Reed both a pointed look, invested with sincerity. Rhea gets her own portion of the form signed before answering Isabeau. "Black is fine."

Reed blinks into the moment, "Reece." He says, voice carrying that timbre of intensity that's quite easy to pull off right now. "I want you to understand this. This is so that you stay on the station, as opposed to moving to the Carina. It's an adult choice, and both your mother and I agree you're old enough and mature enough to make this decision for yourself. The Carina has more civilians, more distractions, more things to do." He points, to the Condition indicator, "but when that turns red, and we're at Condition one, the Carina is a target to be protected. Not built for warfare. The PAS wasn't built for combat, but she has guns, a working FTL, armor, and is staffed by military people, commanded by me personally." He looks at Reece seriously. "It's not as fun, but it is safer." He looks ar Reece again, "Now, this document is modified, it needs your signature on it to become effective. That's not needed, but your mother insisted on it, because she believes in your ability to make this decision on your own." He looks at Reece seriously, "Now you're perfectly able to ask any questions you want, right here and now, before you sign if you're unclear on anything."

Isabeau nods to Rhea and sets the mug down on a side counter near her chair. She stands then to watch as Reed and Salin explain things. Looking at the boy then, her attention focusing on him, she adds, "Please take the time to read the form. While it is in legal terminology, it is important that you not only read but understand any document that anyone puts in front of you. Not only now, but for the rest of your life. If you are not clear on what it means and doubly clear that you can live with the stipulations contained therein, do not sign it." Her tone remains calm and pleasent, her expression relaxed. Maybe she talks like that all the time.

When Reece speaks and is answered by Reed, Salin turns his attention to Isabeau and offers a quick nod of thanks, followed by a soft smile of apprecition for the ammenities that have been shuttle back and forth. Then, he's returning his attention to the ChEngSpawn so that he can lean forward and settle the a pen down for him to use. He doesn't speak now, since both Reed and Isabeau have covered anything that he would have said.

Reece actually pays attention to Reed throughout all that, expression growing serious. He swivels a pen between his fingers. His gaze shifts over at his mother, then back to the other Major. "I want to stay," he says firmly. "I mean, the Carina's cool and everything but…I know the station. And, if I have to pick a place to be home out here, that's where I pick. I've lived on military bases /all/ my life. I'll do what you guys tell me." As far as actual military orders are concerned, says the legalese in his adolescent mind. "You have my word." To emphasize the point, he signs the form with his loopy cursive signature. "There. We good?" Rhea smiles at him. Proud. Resisting the instinct to muss his hair.

Reed nods, "We're good, Reece." He reaches into his pocket and produces a freshly minted set of dogtags. He holds them to Reece. "These are modified dogtags used to identify authorized civilians on the PAS. Wear them at all times." He tells the young man this with all the approperate gravitas of the situation.

"Very good." He turns to look to Rhea, giving her a smile and a quick nod before turning his attention towards Reese as he signs the document and when he's finished, he reaches forward to claim it. "Well, only one thing left to do to make it final." A pen is hefted and then he's extending both of them towards Isabeau, "You want to do the honors, Lieutenant, of initialing for JAG? Then, I'll go run out and makes copies so that everyone has one."

Isabeau smiles at the oh-so-serious young man, then to his mother. She just barely reissts the urge to compliment the woman on her son. Maybe some inner voice warns that embarrassing the boy now would be a really mean thing to do. Reed gets a quick nod of approval for the dog tags, then she turns to Salin, "Thank you." The comment seems to hold a bit more than simple acknowlegement, though she does not elaborate. Accepting the pen and the forms, she bends to smooth the papers before signing her initials in the space provided. Her script is formal and delicate, with loops and swirls in all the appropriate places. Clicking the pen closed, she offers both the papers and pen to the Lieutenant, "Here you go. I am sure that Carlos will make the copies, if you wish."

"Cool…" the ChEngSpawn grins, reaching out to claim his dogtags. He puts them on right away, holding the tag part up so he can inspect it once it's around his neck. "They look like yours and Dad's," he observes to his mother. Rhea snorts softly, but she smiles as she does it. "Not quite, Reece. Thank you." The last is added to the JAGs and Reed. She looks relieved to have it done.

Reed nods to Rhea, and smiles, looking to Reece, "Okay, Reece, glad to have you aboard." He touches his duty shirt, where his handheld is. He deems to dismiss something before he looks to Rhea and Reece, "So, are you two spending some downtime together, or just here for this signing?"

Claiming the document back from Isabeau, Salin offers a soft chuckle before he shakes his head, "Nah, I'll do it. 'least I forget how to make copies." Rising from his desk, he casts a look towards the Major(s) and Reece, "If you'll excuse me for just a moment, I'll get copies made, so that you each have one." And so, he's moving out around the desk and out towards the Naval Office Proper, to the dreaded copy machine.

Isabeau nods to Salin, her smile quick. "As you wish." When he heads out, she reclaims a perching spot on the edge of her desk, the coffee reclaimed. Looking between the two Zimmermans, then up to Reed, she remains quiet to let the three friends converse in peace.

"We're going back to the station," Rhea says firmly. As much to her son as Reed. She's not going to let the boy wander the Genesis corridors. "Maybe see what your fine cafeteria has to offer. Nothing appears to be demanding my attention at the moment, so I'm going to take advantage of the downtime." She watches Salin go work the copy machine with a smirk, nodding shortly in approval. Always good to see an officer who does the grunt work. Reece only looks slightly downcast that he won't be wandering to battlestar with impunity. Reed gets a salute at the 'Glad to have you aboard' bit. He does it better than some ensigns.

Reed smiles to Reece, nodding to him, "Well done. There's a few people I know you could teach how to salute." He looks to Rhea, and nods, "I should head back as well, Ends up I spent most of today since the Condition Three was called on Genesis. My station calls me, but at least I got a lot done."

Zoom! That's a fast copy machine, for Salin is returning almost immediately after with a fresh, albeit, small stack of papers. Three sheets to be exact. Moving back in, he extends one towards Reed, while the other two are fanned out and held to Reece and Rhea, "There we go. A copy for each of you. The original is going to be stored in the JAG Safe, for safety purposes."

Rhea would expect nothing less of Navy Copying Efficiency. The Zimmermanns take their copies. "Thanks for getting this through so quickly. To both of you," she says to the JAGs. "It's a weight off my mind." A pointed look is leveled at her son, who drones, "Thanks" to the both of them as well. To Reed, he shrugs. All of false modesty about his saluting skillz. "/Everybody/ does it. Not as often here as on Picon, though. I think more people are working here. It always took Dad like fifteen minutes to leave his office because everybody would stop him to do it."

Reed takes his copy of the document and nods to Salin. "Thank you." He says and nods to Reece. "Your dad's the guy with all the supplies. Everyone needs stuff and everyone needs it from logistics." A near brush with present and past tense, but a contraction saves the day.

There's a smile to both Reece and Rhea as Salin gives a nod of his head before moving back to claim the seat behind his desk, "You're both quite welcome. Glad that we were able to help and get this done so quickly for you." He's then going quiet, looking between Reece and Reed and just offering a smile at the conversation that takes place.

"It's not like Dad /just/ does supplies," Reece says firmly. Defending the honor of Fleet accountancy. "Logistics organizes /everything/. And he's really good at target shooting. I bet he could take down a ton of toasters." Rhea winces at that. "Reece…!" The boy has the good sense to look abashed, though he mutters under his breath, "Well, I'll bet he is…"

Reed smiles to Reece, and nods, "I believe you." He then looks to Rhea, and nods. "I believe him." He then looks at the JAGgies. "So should we get out of your way so you can continue your paperwork?" Not mentioning what the paperwork is because, well.. no.

Isabeau rises from the edge of her desk and steps forward. She extends a hand toward the young man, "Welcome to the PAS, Mr. Zimmerman. I am Lieutenant Isabeau Aragon de Castile y Vargas. I am the JAG officer for the PAS. Please feel free to come to me should you have questions or concerns that fall under my jurisdiction." She smiles at Rhea, then adds, "Although your mother is probably a better resource than I am." Something to break the conversation. She looks up at Reed, then blushes a bit, "if you would not be discomfited, Major. We do have a lot to catch up on."

There's a faint smile at the Reece conversation and then Salin is shifting his attention over towards Reed, "It's actually a pleasant change from the paperwork, which I'm afraid, isn't going anywhere." He looks over towards Isabeau at her introduction and then he's shifting his attention back towards Reece, "And I'm Captain Salin Altair. And she's right, your mother is probably a better resource. Our answers tend to confuse people most of the time."

Rhea gives Reed one of those level looks she enjoys passing out so much. She doesn't seem particularly thrilled at the idea of her accountant husband taking on 'tons of toasters.' Or that such things have become part of her son's vocabulary. Reece, distracted by other things, gives Isabeau's hand a shake. The length of her name makes him boggle. "Umm…Reece Shimon Zimmermann. Hi. Thanks again. I…umm…don't spend a lot of time around on the JAG office." That comment seems more for his mother's benefit than theirs. Forms all signed and copied, the Family Zimmermann stands.

Reed is impervious to Rheas look this time. He's got the male advantage in dealing with Reece there. He looks to the JAGgies and nods, "I'm off as well. I'll see you two later." He says to Salin and Isa before, heading for the door, pointing to Salin, "Read your mail." He advises before stepping out.

Reed leaves for Navy Offices [o].
Reed has left.

Uh oh. Maybe Salin /should/ have read that message and he's giving a quick nod of his head towards the man before he departs. Then, he's looking over towards Rhea and Reece, giving each of them another nod, "Nice to meet you, Reece. Take it easy. And Major, it was a pleasure. If there's anything that either of us can do, don't hesitate to let us know." Then, he's reaching for that handheld, pulling up the message that he hadn't read.

Isabeau releases the boy's name, "Just use Aragon, Mr. Zimmerman. That's easier." Stepping back, she salutes Reed and Rhea as they do their thing. She lifts a brow then and glances briefly to Salin. As her handheld did not shiver or bleep, she resigns herself to blissful ignorance of the contents of the mail. "Enjoy the day, all." Paperwork calls, alas.

"My husband and I split the difference on the name," Rhea explains with a wink to the JAGs. Her brow arches a notch at Salin. And departing Reed. Curious about their mailbag. But she doesn't ask. Not with the boy in tow, at least. "Same you, Captain. Lieutenant." A parting nod to Isabeau, and a general, "Later" from her son to JAGs. And they're off.

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