Drinks
Drinks
Summary: Salin has a chat with Regas.
Date: 74 ACH - 1/26/2009
Related Logs: Lunch
Players:
Regas..Salin..

-=============================================================================-

Corridor 11C Genesis - Deck 11

74 ACH 23817 Souls


This corridor runs Fore and Aft, or front and back. The corridors curve with the ship structure and are low-lit with halogen. Crew and personnel of the Genesis move along on their daily routes and duties around the ship.

-=============================================================================-

Regas is coming down the corridor, he looks to be heading for the Naval Offices. A piece of paper rests in his hand, half crumpled from the way he is carrying in a partial fist.

The doorway to the Naval Offices open, allowing Salin to make his way out into the hall. Beneath his left arm is a small attache folder, while in his right, there's a small bag that no doubt contains a bottle of something. Turning just a little, Regas is spotted and he brings himself to attention, "Commander. Just the person I was looking for."

"Excellent," he half growls. "You can tell me why the hell Ms. Kyrios thinks she has enough time to be in some rite and not shoveling tyllium." Not that they have much to do with civilian authority, but the Commander's face looks like they aren't doing their jobs very well. Regas then reaches out and tucks the crumpled memo in between the jacket buttons.

Ack. Manhandled by the Commander. That's never the good way to start a conversation. With a perk of his brow, Salin's looking down to the crumpled memo in between the jacket buttons and he's opening the door back to the Naval Offices, "Shall we go into my office, Commander, so that I can read this?"

Regas makes a motion and heads inside.

-=============================================================================-

JAG Office Genesis - Deck 11

74 ACH 23817 Souls


The office of the Judge Advocate General is a normal office room in appearance, with a pair of desks and a bookshelf in one corner containing legal texts and reference materials. Each desk has a computer terminal on it and built in set of drawers. Across from each desk is a pair of chairs for interviewees to be seated. Also along part of the back wall are a row of grey, metal filing cabinets.

-=============================================================================-

Salin's legs hightail it through the Naval Offices and he's moving immediately over to his desk, first to set the bagged bottle upon it and then to follow suit with the case beneath his arm. It's only then that his hands move to retrieve the crumpled memo from between his jacket and he's taking a moment to review it, brow perching upwards as he does. "Uh." Huh. That seems to about sum it up for the moment, "Well, she has a few hours each day in which she's free, according to her sentencing. I would not recommend letting her aboard the Genesis though."

Regas follows the Jag inside and shuts the door, "Frak no, she's not coming aboard my ship. Apollo's nuts. I swear that woman has no brains whatsoever at times. Take care of it. I don't hit women." His frown is pulled down so hard his goatee twitches.

The note is crumpled back up and tossed into a small trash bin as Salin gives a nod of his head, "I'll speak to Captain Karthasi, personally, about this matter and ensure that she understands that a convicted criminal is not coming aboard." A hand motions and he's motioning towards a chair, "Have a seat, Commander. I was actually on my way to track you down." He motions towards the bag on his desk, "With a peace offering of sorts."

Regas gets his gears spinning now as that is taken care of and he turns slightly. "Not you too." He mutters and looks at the chair. "I think I'd better stand. I saw Pepper today." He does another half turn and moves somewhat like a tiger stalking its cage. "You are just godsdamn lucky I didn't punch you when I saw you. Just on frakking principle."

There's a slight nod of his head and he's offering, "I'm aware," before letting Regas continue. Then, Salin simply turns from his spot in front of the desk, hands coming to rest on it as he leans against it. There is the slightest arch of his brow, "Would it have made you feel better, Commander?"

"Possibly." His dark eyes turn to the bottle on the desk. "Was that for me? If it's liquor, open it." They then descend on the JAG. "You are the last one I expected."

There's a nod of his head, and then another and Salin is turning to remove a bottle of brandy from the bag. It's set atop the desk and he's breaking the seal before moving around it to open a drawer, withdrawing two glasses. "Oh? Why is that, sir?" The glasses are set next to the bottle and he's filling each one half full before lifting one in offering to Regas.

Regas snorts, slightly. "You are old enough to be her father. Going through the second childhood, Altair?" He looks up at the ceiling, just in case all the answers are there and he would have missed it. Finding nothing, he looks down again. "Then again, she probably needs a father figure."

There's a very faint chuckle and Salin is shaking his head slightly, "Hardly old enough to be her father, Commander." A pause and then he's shaking his head again, "And no, no second childhood." Then, his face takes on a serious note and he's watching the man for a moment, "Do you have a problem with my seeing her, Commander? Honestly?"

Regas frowns a little, "Back home you could have got a nice red sports car." He glances to the liquor, "Brandy. Not exactly something knock back." He pulls the chair over then and sits down, crossing one ankle over his knee. "I hope you are planning on marrying her. Because, if you aren't, I'm going to beat you up worse than Eli ever could."

"Never was interested in sports cars, Commanders." There's a flash of a smile and he's moving around the desk, back towards his seat before eyes focus on the brandy, "Well, you could. But after a few, you'd be staggering down the halls. More of a social drink, I find." Then, he's settling into his chair and for the moment, the issue of marriage isn't addressed, "I'll keep that in mind, but you quite tactfully avoided my question. Do you have a problem with our being in a relationship?"

"So did you, lawyer." Regas reaches for the drink, "I doubt I'd be staggering." He drinks half of what is in the glass, maybe he's not feeling that social. The dark gaze is narrowed slightly, "I have a problem with the sneaking around." The drink is finished in the next gulp and he sets the glass back down. "And don't say you weren't either. She had this crush on you, or she would'nt have came and practically bribed me to let her continue to work with you. Which, I did against my better judgement."

Listening, Salin's giving a quick nod of his head and for the moment, he's drink isn't touched, "She was waiting on the right moment to tell you, Commander. So, while the 'sneaking around' was not with malice, I do apologize." He's leaning back in his chair then, elbows coming to rest on the armrests, fingers steepling before him, "Since you brought up marriage, I will address that." A pause and then he's continuing, "Yes, I intend to marry her. when the time is right and she and I are both ready. Not before, for it would not be fair to her."

"She's not old enough to realize what is fair to her. She's got her heart on her sleeve and stars in her eyes," Regas doesn't want to think of what else! "Fill it up," he motions to the glass. "So when is the right time."

Leaning forward, Salin lifts the bottle to fill Regas' glass, though this time, it's filled well past the 3/4th's mark. Setting the bottle down, he claims his glass and lifts it to his lips, taking a small sip before lowering it down, "She's also an adult, Commander. And a Colonial Fleet Officer." There's a slight pause and he's canting his head slightly, "When we're both ready. When I'm sure that this isn't going to drive a rift between you and her."

"We've made our peace," Regas compromises there and picks up the glass. "I hope you are taking precautions." Yes, he's going to state that right up front. A third of the glass gets drank this time. "Because, if I find out, you …" he warns. "Sonofabitch, I can't even think of you and her…and…" Flail!

"Well, I'm glad for that. The last thing I wanted to see happen was the two of you drift apart." Salin's giving a slight smile and then he's lifting his glass to his lips, just preparing to take a sip when Regas' decides to go there. There's a splutter and he's lowering his glass to bring the back of his hand up to his lips, "Uh … ya, let's just forget that you brought that up and I'll just nod my head. That's a covnersational route that neither one of us wants to take."

Regas takes another drink and sets the glass down, there's a third left. "Frak, you'll be my 'son-in-law'." The rest of the drink is finished. "Don't expect any favors." The half-growling sound is heard again and the glass is practically slammed back down on the JAGdesk <tm>. The finger comes up, pointing directly at the Major now, "And you get her a nice place on the Carina. If you have to boot someone out."

There's a very soft chuckle and Salin begins to shake his head, ever so slowly, "This is JAG you're talking about, Commander. I'd be liable to lecture you and huff and puff if I thought you were trying to play favorites." There's a smile and his own drink is finished, the glass coming to rest upon the desk much more quietly then Regas'. He motions to the bottle, an eyebrow lifted in a silent question, "That was something I was going to speak to you about. There's a townhouse next to my office on the Carina that's still available." Then again, his office is in the middle of the townhouses.

"I don't suppose I could say don't frak her till you are married," Regas makes a finger motion to the brandy. "I'm not stupid, Altair. Any man would be proud to have that girl. I just hope you have brains enough to realize it." He's sitting back now, watching Salin. "Atleast neither one of you will be in battle, that much I can be thankful for."

Thankfully, Salin doesn't have a drink this time, for he'd no doubt be spluttering again. Leaning forward, he's lifting the bottle and refilling both glasses before settling it back on the desk, "You're more then welcome to say it, Commander." And, he leaves it at that. He doesn't even punctuate it with a smile. "Oh, I know just how lucky I am, sir. I was prepared to earn you ire over this relationship."

"You'll think ire if she comes crying one day because of something you've done," Regas takes another drink. "I hope you aren't thinking you are going to get a Leonisan drunk." He points a middle finger at the JAG's glass. "We can drink Saggies under the table. You should see Savannah. Then, she'll arm wrestle you."

"If that day arrives, I'll park myself in front of the airlock, Commander." To that, he does offer a smile. The glass is lifted back to his lips and he's taking a small sip before lowering it back down, "No intentions of that at all. I'm Caprician bred upper crust. We don't pound back drinks. We sip them and take our time, otherwise we end up taking a couple of steps and falling flat on our faces. Not good for the personal image."

"The worst kind," Regas turns the slight smirk into a partial smile. "Was there anything else? Since I don't have to coach you on keeping the girl happy, it seems." He does take another drink and then sets it back down again.

A hand moves, opening the desk drawer and he searches for something before he's finally withdrawing a form and a pen. Sitting back up, he's leaning forward to settle both of them before Regas, "Just need your signature. That'll let us aquire one of the townhouses on the Carina and have it put in the Military's name." The last of his brandy is finished and he's settling the glass aside for a moment, "There is, actually. I'd like to discuss the possibility of taking a couple of shifts in CIC to refamiliarize myself with that aspect of the Battlestar."

"Has this been cleared with the ships Captain?" Regas questions, even though he is pulling the pen and paper forward. "Just a formality, but if it says military, it may raise some questions." He signs it anyway. Turning the paper back around, he lays the pen down. "Couldn't get enough after the other day?" He begins to rise then. If he plans on falling on his face, it won't be in front of the JAG.

"The Carina's Captain is aware that we make the occassional acquisition of land and buildings. That's why I get your signature, so it can be presented to him and if he has any objections, we address them. If not, we go about our business and he's got something on file and so do we, that states everyone was fine with it." The paper is pulled back towards him and then pushed slightly to one side. Rising as the Commander does, Salin gives a slight shake of his head, "Yes and no. Figured if I could be of use, it's better then sitting in my office. Or in the berthings."

Regas gives a nod, "I'll let the XO know you may be there to learn what is done in CIC." Standing there a moment, keeping up that Commander intimidation factor, he finally moves his hand out to Salin, "I guess, welcome to the family is in order."

There's another quick nod and Salin is offering, "Thanks, I'd appreciate that." During that intimdation factor, he simply keeps his eyes on the man. That is, until the hand is offered and Regas' is speaking. And for a moment, he actually looks somewhat surprised. A slight smile crosses his lips and he's extending his hand to accept and offer a firm, but quick shake, "Thank you, Commander."

Regas gives a firm shake and then lowers his hand. "Good. Let me know how it goes with the Chaplain," he then turns and makes his way out of the JAG office. Tommorrow, he'll probably regret he didn't punch the lawyer. Atleast once.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License