First Impressions - 22 BCH
First Impressions
Summary: More introductions. Manny makes an impression. Geekery continues.
Date: 22 BCH (22 Oct 2008)
Related Logs: None
Players:
Manny..Zaharis..Rhea..Reighner..

Taproom Support Station PAS - Deck 1
22 BCH 2085 Souls


This large, open area was once a secondary observation platform. It has been taken over by quasi official forces and made into a drinking establishment known as the Taproom. A bar running along the inner wall is stocked with bottles and a solar cell has been taken apart, giving the back of the wall a high mirror finish, reflecting the bottles and the rest of the room. The outer wall is transparent, and unless a Condition status requires the lowering of the shielding, the glow of the stars and TER-745 is visible through the windows. Several tables and chairs are about the area and hidden speakers play music from some player hidden away. At the bar is a menu set up for anyone to read. <+detail here/menu>


Contents: Manny Zaharis

Exits: [O] Out

Special: +detail - Details available
-====================================================================-

Zaharis is hanging about in the taproom at a table by the view window. In his blues, the formal jacket is off and tossed over the back of his chair. His feet are up on the low table, regardless of the nice polish on the wood, a glass of whiskey on the rocks sitting by his black-shoed feet. He's reading over a yellow ledger pad covered in scribbles.

Manny enters the taproom, tugging her hair out of its ponytail and shaking the wavy mass out and running her fingers through it as she saunters along and scans the room for a few moments. Then she makes her way to the bar, pep in her step, sway in the hip and that ever present smirk, she's ordering a simply beer, spinning around to try to sussout a place to sit.

Zaharis sits up enough to lean over his legs, pulling his cigarette pack close with his fingertips. Tugging one out, the flame of his lighter briefly flicks to life, then a thick curl of whitish smoke drifts up around his head and towards the ceiling. A ring forms just above his head, promptly ruined by an exhale of smoke upwards. He sets the ledger down on his legs and folds an arm behind his head, one foot rocking back and forth on the table edge as he watches the viewing window.

Manny's nose wrinkles as she sniffs the air, accepting her beer with a grunted 'thanks' before scanning the room, letting her eyes fall on Zaharis and she makes her way over, taking a swig of her beer as she idly leans against a chair and just stares. "Gonna sit there destroying your lungs all by yourself, chico, or are you going to share?" She quirks an eyebrow, speaking in that 'ghettofied latina' accent that colors most of her speech.

Zaharis has the cigarette in his mouth when she takes her seat. He squints an eye at her, the end of the smoke lighting up orange as he pulls a drag from it. The exhale through his nose is slow. "As a doctor," he replies, matter-of-factly, "I can't put another human's life in danger in such a blatant way." He raises an eyebrow and stretches his arms, before leaning his head back. "But if you happened to help yourself while I couldn't see, I'm sure I could still sleep at night."

Manny spins her chair around, straddling it backwards and reaching out a hand towards Zaharis. "So I do I get to stealin' or do I get to frisk ya to find 'em?" She takes another sip of her beer, looking faintly amused. "And you are a doc? Seriously? Most docs I know are old and wrinkly and just ugh." She shudders.

Zaharis raises an eyebrow slightly at the chair straddling. "Captain didn't tell me this place had -that- kind of entertainment." He tosses the pack into her outstretched hand, matches already lying on the table. "Or are you on some…other type of contract up here?"

Manny snickers and catches the pack of cigs, setting her beer down so she can work on lighting up, cancer stick dangling from between her lips as she waves the match out and rolls her eyes, mumbling around that cigarette. "It isn't like I straddled your lap or nothin' and are you callin' me a ho'?" She grips the cig between two fingers exhaling a stream of smoke and tossing the pack onto the table. "Or are you askin' what I do for a living?"

"Well, let's see." Zaharis smirks slightly. "Aggressive, highly defensive, oral fixation…I'll chalk all that up to just being female and be a gentleman by asking straight. Sure. What do you do for a living?"

Manny snorts and chuckles out another stream of smoke as she takes a sip of her drink, licking her lips and bowing her head. "I know men who fit the same description, Senor, so we shall never know hm?" Then she frowns for a moment. "I work with comms mainly." She sighs softly. "Isn't the most glamorous of jobs but it pays the bills, eh?"

"People who want glamour know better than to plant themselves on a station crawling with military and miners," Zaharis replies, lofting a brow. "And if they do, then somebody lied to them. I didn't know they pulled up civs to run their comms. Must have been a hell of a resume."

Manny snickers and takes another drag of her cigarette, idly scratching her head against after setting the beer down. "True dat." Then she coughs and waves some smoke out of her own face, nose wrinkling. "I'm…good, yeah, I'm not gonna lie. Pretty damn good at my job, but as a contractor, you know how it is…only be here for however many months."

Zaharis spreads his hands slightly, indicating the dark blue officer's uniform. "I haven't a clue how it is, sorry. Something akin to a 'royal pain in the ass', I would guess. How long have you been up here?"

Manny gives Zaharis a once over, eyeing the uniform. "Ahh, yes, military doctor." She snaps off a mock salute. "And I've been here for 'bout a couple of weeks, still getting used to it all. But I find a place to drink and smoke and I'm happy."

Reighner comes in from Passageway.
Reighner has arrived.

Rhea comes in from Passageway.
Rhea has arrived.

"Like the rest of us." Zaharis smirks, picking up his glass. "Obviously." He is sitting in one of the plush chairs by the large viewport. Along with the glass of whiskey and cigarette keeping him company, there's also Manny, sitting backwards in a chair nearby. He doesn't return the 'mock salute', making a slight wince when she does that. "Gods, please. Off-duty, don't remind me."

Reighner arrives at the bar and calls for a beer. His uniform is unbuttoned at the front.

Manny has let her hair down as she sits with Zaharis, smoking quietly and resisting the urge to laugh as she raises her beer in mock toast instead. "I'm sorry, but the uniform and the whole…" She gestures towards him vaguely. "Thing, kinda reveals, exposes and reminds everybody else 'bout your militaryness. Don't see why you get to get out of it." She sticks out her tongue and tosses her hair over a shoulder before she takes another drag off of her cigarette.

"I get out of it because I'm too damn lazy to change. I like to think I've earned it." Zaharis smiles slightly at her, then his attention flickers towards the bar at the movement. "Matt," he calls, with a complete lack of sense that one might not shout in a nice bar.

Reighner's head snaps to Zaharis and Manny. He looks worn out. He shoots up a quick wave, exchanges cubit for a bottle of beer, and starts walking over.

"I'll let you have it then." Manny drawls before falling silent as she looks back over towards Reighner, closing her eyes and shuddering as she enjoys her nicotine.

"You look busted," Zaharis observes, lifting his chin to glance over the approaching Reighner. "Get beaten up by a mob of protesting T-cells?" He motions for the Lt. to have a seat if he so chooses, taking a drag off his cigarette. "I'd introduce you two, but I have no idea what her name is."

Reighner spares a small smile. He gives Manny a once-over and nods politely, probably too beat to make polite conversation. "Jesse," he says to Zaharis, sliding immediately into work talk. "How's about signing off on getting me admitting privileges at the clinic here?"

Rhea slips into the bar, dressed down in off-duty gear and looking rather cheerier. She winds her way to the bar, eyes scanning over the crowd as she heads in that direction.

"Manny." She introduces herself as she gets to her feet, finishing off her beer and smirking as she looks between the two. "And ya'll take care now, okay?" The young woman, makes her way out with a hip swaying peppy step as usual, cigarette put out somewhere in between leaving the table and leaving the taproom.

"Can do. Can it wait until I'm sober?" Zaharis grins slightly at Reighner. "I don't want to sign the wrong form, that's a health hazard in and of itself around here." He picks up his glass, raising it slightly to the scientist. "Saw your virology labs this morning. Fascinating stuff, they had to pry me back out with a crowbar." His head rolls a bit, giving an absent nod to Manny. "Enjoy your comms."

Reighner waves dismissively, deflecting the compliment. "Sure, thanks. I'll have somebody run the authorizations over later." He looks out the window, considering the stars for a moment, and makes to leave. "I got a high-res gel running. See you tomorrow."

Manny has left.

Rhea passes Manny on her way in, stepping aside so the woman has all the room she needs to sway her way out. Then, it's straight bar-wards. "Jesse," she offers in greeting to the doctor, with a nod to Reighner as well. The bit about gel seems to perk her interest, but she doesn't keep him by asking.

Zaharis quirks a brow slightly at Reighner. "Didn't you just get that beer? You're not going to let it go to waste, are you?" He glances at the bottle, then settles back against his chair. "I had a question for you, anyway. I don't know if Carter mentioned, but the Genesis lost her oncologist about a week ago. Mysterious transfer, family trouble or something. Anyway, I'd wanted to ask you if you'd like to take a consulting position for the time being. Aside from your rotations down here. I promise I won't snow you under." He looks up as Rhea comes over, raising a hand. "Rhea. My company keeps coming and going, it's worse than an elevator."

Reighner shifts his weight back to the original foot. "Oh, I'm not," he promises, dryly. He nods a hello to Rhea before returning to Zaharis. "You have an oncologist position on staff?" He flicks his eyebrows. "Battlestars do have everything, don't they. Yeah, I can do that."

Rhea sits at the bar, ordering a Picon sea-chaser when she flags down the bartender. Light cidery drink. Lots of bubbles. "You chasing your staff away already?" she teases Zaharis lightly, resting her arms comfortably on the bar. "Reece sends his thanks, by the way. At least, I think he does. He grunted *something* that sounded thankful when he got his paws on your vid game. He was glued to it when I left." A polite smile and "Good evening" is offered to Reighner. "You said something about high-res gel?"

"Well," Zaharis waves a hand at Reighner. "She was one of many that does…everything. The fact that she was an oncologist was a bonus. I'd prefer to have one around, and you with your work in haemotology as well…I couldn't resist asking. From past experience, both are a godsend in a place like this." He looks back at Rhea and smirks. "Tell him I grunted back. He'll understand, it's a man thing." Then his attention shifts back to Reighner at her question, also curious.

Reighner nods to both of them. "Yeah. I'm resolving the protein components of a cell extract. Horribly dull protocol, lots of sitting around and adjusting voltages, but I didn't want to keep a tech afer hours." He lifts his eyebrows at Rhea, inquisitively. "You're involved in the sciences?"

Rhea chuckles at Zaharis. "I'll take your word for it. I'm not fluent in 'man.' And better for it, probably." She sips her fizzy sea-chaser, shrugging in reply to Reighner. "Once or twice a week, if I'm lucky. I did my undergrad work in aeronautical engineering, but there's not a lot of time for the delicate stuff aboard the Genesis. I'm chief engineer. Which is mostly just desperately trying to keep things from breaking."

Zaharis nods to Reighner, understandingly. Whether moreso about the subject or about keeping the techs awake, who knows. He glances at Rhea and grins slightly as she details her job, then shakes his head to Reighner. "Don't let her be humble, Matt. She's the reason the Genesis doesn't fall apart at the seams."

"Interesting," Reighner remarks. I've always found it remarkable that starships manage to work at all. But then again, I sometimes think the same thing about the human body." He smiles wanly at his own observation. "How many people are on your staff?"

Rhea laughs. "It's best not to look too closely at how 'well' they work. Even the newest ships need a small army of maintenance to keep them running. It keeps the family fed, though." She smirks at Zaharis. "Yeah. I run it all by myself with just a roll of duct-tape and a wrench. And a team of some of the best engineers in the Fleet. We're lighter than I'd like right now, but we're within operating guidelines for a ship her size. The ship total has a crew of 1,300 and we're one of the larger departments. Though the Support folks outnumber the rest of us by quite a bit. I'd take keeping machines running over people any day."

Zaharis smirks slightly at Rhea. He doesn't insert his opinion in there, though, picking up his glass of whiskey and melting ice and glancing at the level before taking a swallow.

Reighner whistles in appreciation. "Impressive," he says, nodding in emphasis. "Maybe you could have somebody show me around the ship, if they aren't too busy." He extends his right hand. "I'm Matt, by the way."

"Rhea," she supplies, for her part, reaching out to clasp Reighner's hand in a firm shake. "Anytime. I know most of the corners of the bird. I take it you're more properly in the sciences? What kind of work do you do? So I know which toys you'll find most interesting."

Zaharis has a brief moment where it shows on his face that he realises he forgot to introduce the two of them. His nose wrinkles as though experiencing a brief itch. Sitting back to watch them talk, he finishes his glass of booze and nudges it back onto the table.

"Mud phud," Reighner replies. Anticipating the next question, he explains, "MD/PhD, mostly research. But I know just enough to be dangerously ineffective in both." He glances between them and flashes another small smile and a nod. "On that, I must get back to the lab. It was nice meeting you. Jesse."

Rhea gets a laugh out of that, releasing his hand and picking up her drink again. She's nursing the fizzy stuff. She can't down the liquor like the doctor. "Have fun. Drop me a line on the wireless whenever you want a look around the ship. I'll try to find something sparking. That's always entertaining."

"Matt." Zaharis raises a hand, tapping his fingertips to the side of his temple and then cocking his wrist towards the older man. "Be good." He reaches up and scratches a hand tiredly through his hair, commenting under his breath. "Mud phud. Never heard that one before."

Another nod. "Will do." Beer in tow, Reighner leaves.

Rhea instinctively raises a hand to try and straighten Zaharis' hair. She doesn't even seem aware she's doing it. "Seems like an interesting guy. Friend of yours?"

Zaharis sloooowly gives her a squinted look when she goes for the hair. "He's a researcher. List of publications a mile long, type most of us only have wet dreams about being able to show off one day." He smirks slightly. "Academics, you know the sort."

"What…? Oh." Rhea lowers her hand after only preliminary de-mussing efforts. She shrugs, sipping at her drink thoughtfully. "What's his last name? Maybe I've got something of his in my old issues of the 'Caprica Science Journal.' If the Marines haven't replaced them with pornography by now." Unamused.

"Reighner." Zaharis sits up to grab his cigarettes, and then settles back again. "Worked out the pathomechanism of O'Keefe's anemia. Can you believe that? Plagued medical science for hundreds of years…hundreds!" His tone gains some slight awe, followed by a suffering sigh. "And don't worry, the porn goes into Marine Country but doesn't come back out. Gives whole new layers to the term 'black holes'."

"Reighner…" Rhea thinks on the name for a moment, then snaps her fingers. "That's it. You're right." Her eyes widen, duly impressed. "Well. They must be poking into some interesting secrets on this place if they've got a man like him involved. Frak, maybe Gaius Baltar himself'll grace off during the next contractor rotation."

Zaharis grins a little, tilting his head as he lights up the cigarette. "Will you fangirl swoon if he does?" The cigarette bobs in his mouth as he talks, and he plucks it out to exhale the breath. "I promise I won't tell Ephraim."

Rhea glares. And blushes. Which ruins the glaring. "He has very impressive theories on defense application for advanced computational systems," she says, before taking another drink. After a beat she admits, "And he can fill out a pinstripe suit. Though I get the feeling he's more interesting in a magazine article than he would be in person."

Zaharis snorts quietly. "I'll…leave the aesthetic observations in your capable hands." He considers though, gently flicking his thumbnail against the cigarette's filter. "I agree though, the man's a genius. I wonder if he speaks well from index cards. That seems to be the most one can hope for out of geniuses these days."

Rhea chuckles, finishing off her drink. "This is why I like you, Jesse. Most doctors are infatuated with academia. No offense. Your low tolerance of them is something I've always enjoyed."

"It's a fair trade, Rhea." Zaharis smirks, flicking ash off his cigarette. "They have a low tolerance for me, so I just return the favour. You're lucky the world of battlestar engineering largely manages to escape that particular brand of b.s."

Rhea shrugs. "The theoretical end has its share of wonks. But when you're all sweating trying to get a jump drive up and running, there's not a lot of time to list all your credentials. Besides, you've got more degrees than most officers. What'd your scientist friend call an MD? Mud?" She chuckles.

"Mud." Zaharis has to grin slightly at that, lifting the cigarette for a light drag. "Mud phud, is what he said. Cute term, but I'll leave it to the Ph.D's. They've got to preserve their egos somehow." He blows out the remaining smoke and wrinkles his nose. "Did you see that girl that was in here earlier. The one who was sitting by me?"

"I think I passed her on my way in," Rhea says with a smirk. "Though I doubt I 'saw' her as well as you did. She was cute." She nods, approvingly enough. "So, did you get her number?"

Zaharis snorts. "Did you see her face? She's a baby." Alright, late twenties, but he is creeping up on forty after all. "And I think she would have given far more than her number without really having to ask, if you know what I mean. I was suprised the PAS let her past the docking bay, looking like that."

"I don't usually oogle girls in bars unless they're pointed out to me," Rhea says. She shakes her head, chuckling. "Relax, grandpa. I'm sure Captain Carter will make sure she's dressed for a non-street-walking trade while on duty."

Zaharis grins. "Oh I'm sure Carter would have a field day." He leans closer to her, wiggling his brows. "Want to put down bets on whether she gets him in the sack during the 'talk'?"

Rhea chuckles again, shaking her head. "You have that little faith in the captain? Not all men are hounds, you know. I'm sure he'll deal with her just fine." She's long done with her drink, so she puts some credits down to pay for it and starts to take her leave of the bar. "I should head back to the station. Need somebody to walk you home?"

"Little faith? On the contrary." Zaharis mashes out his cigarette. "I think the man desperately needs to get laid." He cranes his neck, studying the door. While not as drunk as Rhea likely knows he's capable of getting, he's nevertheless nowhere near sober. "Yeah…I'll walk back with you. Why not."

"C'mon," Rhea says, more gently amused by his un-sobriety than anything else. She offers him an arm to lean on. "I'm kind of surprised you didn't leave with her yourself. I may just have to raise my opinion of you. A little."

"Frak." Zaharis gets up with an awkward lurch, taking the offered arm. "And I'd worked so hard to get to the bottom of the heap, too…" And out they go!

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