Summary: Reed goes to the Roosters Nest. It's not like the PAS Viewing Deck.
Date: 44 ACH
Related Logs: None

Roosters Nest (Obs Deck) Genesis - Deck 9
44 ACH 6285 Souls

The observation deck is at the fore of the ship. The viewport allows those who come here to relax and enjoy a little quiet time with opposite sex. When the ship is under Alert levels, the viewport has a steel shutter that automatically comes down over the viewport for protection of the glass. The seats here are single and double and set up like a theater. They are cushioned and some recline back for those quick naps.
-----< Condition Three - Public Area >----
Contents: Addie Micah Reed Wireless 1494

Exits: [O] Corridor

Special: +detail - Details available

"No, sir, it isn't," Micah agrees, hands cinching tighter together, "if this was high school, I wouldn't be refraining from knocking the teeth out of their motherfrakking faces." His eyes meet the Captain's for a moment; there's concession, though a sense that he doesn't quite yield. "And I don't have a grievance, sir, unless you want me to come up with one. Ah've kept my nose clean, ah've toed the line. If you've got a problem with the way ah'm flying, then spit it out, and ah'll fix it. Otherwise.." He waits, expectantly.

<Opposed Roll> Addie - Unarmed_Combat versus Micah - Unarmed_Combat
<Roll1> Addie: Good <Roll2> Micah: Mediocre
<Result> Addie WINS by 2.

Addison is a relatively small woman. She's petite, as they say, short of stature and slight of frame. When she reaches up to grab the tank and tee combo Micah wears to slam the larger pilot against the bulkhead, it's a hard, fast gesture. And it's none too gentle. She lets his upper back and shoulders take the brunt of the force, but she follows him in close so he has to either stand still where he is, or go through her. "Your problem is your attitude, _Ensign_. Flying doesn't make up for that, particularly yours, which is mediocre at best."

Reed enters the Obs Deck, holding open the heavy hatch. His cane is used as he walks, and he takes in the room with a glance, noticing the pair of pilots. He takes in the joyful sight of Captain/Ensign/bulkhead sandwich making and narrows his eyes, planting the base of his cane on the hatch and giving it a hard shove, causing the hatch to slam closed with a harsh metallic 'THRUNK!' sound. He then begins to walk toward the two, cane being used to help propel himself.

Micah is, on the contrary, a fair bit of weight to be throwing around — despite not being huge — though nowhere near so quick on his feet. Addie has the element of surprise, and no doubt the edge in skill, and there's a -clank- as his shoulders hit bulkhead. Immediately, he's clamping a hand around her wrist and trying to pry her off him; if the frustration was muted before, it's an all-out fury now. She's obviously pushed one of his buttons. "You'd frakking know, wouldn't you? All the times we've gone up together, all the times you've deigned to give me the frakking time of day.." Growl, hiss. He ignores the sound of the Major approaching.

Oh, so that's what this is about. Addison is nothing if not a button pusher. She finds them, and then she slams those suckers, particularly if they're shiny and red. And here's Micah. Micah with abandonment issues. The clang of the hatch registers, and so does the approach by cane. There aren't a lot of people who would willingly walk toward Addison holding a man against a bulkhead, and even fewer who would do so loudly. She leans in, hissing, "You want to find a place in this wing, you will take it down a notch. You're on CAP with me until I say otherwise, Jailhouse." With that, Addison releases the larger pilot, and turns to face the incoming Brass. She can smell them. It's a gift. "Evening, sir."

Reed steps up, eyes still narrowed, as he looks between the pair of them as they break, and he lifts his head, looking between the pair of them, taking in a breath. Then, eyes traveling between the two of them, he speaks in a clear, precise tone that holds a soft, cool exterior, with a steel core. Like a lead pipe wrapped in neoprene.
"Attention on Deck."

Micah keeps his eyes on Addie. They may as well be alone on the observation deck right now, though he's surely aware of what's going on around them. Buttons, yeah, he has them. Big red buttons. Combine them with a woman like Addie, and it's like a house on fire. To his credit, he's not turning white or losing his tenuous grip on consciousness, with the Captain up in his face like that; he doesn't even spit off any more foul language when she pulls away. "Aye, sir." That's all. It's a growl, and there's venom in it, but it's the slow-killing type. His eyes snap to the source of that steely voice, then. There's a malingering intent to hurt and maim something, but he snaps off a salute and holds it. Silent.

Addie's swap from relaxed stance to attention is a thing of beauty. Her expression stills, posture straightens, salute. You could compare that to a textbook, baby. But you shouldn't. Addie's much cuter than those drawings. Just appreciate the singular beauty. G'wan. Do it.

Reed looks to Addie, then Micah, looking at his salute. He moves closer to them, lifting return salute, to Micah, "The Captains response to the attention call is proper, Ensign. No salute needed." He notes almost absently, then looks at Micah, and in a voice of direct, distinct authority, "There a problem here, Ensign? Anything you wish me to know at the moment?" His tongue idily probes the inside of his cheek, as he looks at Micah, levelly and hard, cand in front of him, hands on the handle.

That not terribly pleasant sound coming from Micah? That's the sound of his teeth grinding together. It's a wonder he has any left, by now. "No, sir." His hand drops, his chin lifts a fraction, and he finds a singularly fascinating piece of bulkhead slightly to the left of Reed's face.

Reed nods to Micah, and he says, "Then give us the room." He then turns from Micah, to face Addie and holds silent till they're alone.

Addison remains at attention, eyes straight on until Reed speaks to her. When he does that, then she'll make eye contact. In the mean time, whilst they're waiting for Micah to scram, she just breathes.

It's like watching a bat out of hell. The Ensign salutes once more for good measure, and then slinks away swiftly. Yes, that's a chair that takes the brunt of his strident gait; it wibbles on two legs for a second, then topples over with a -thunk-.

Reed waits for the hatch to thump closed, and takes a breath. "Captain there's a lot about what I just saw that I really, deeply and purely, don't give a shit about." He says in an even tone. "So I'm not even going to step into it at all. I'm going to focus on what I saw that I need to take issue with."

Addie's eyes flick to Reed. She regards him for a silent moment as if waiting, before she plies him with a, "Sir." The dark eyed pilot falls silent again.

Reed nods, leaning on his cane for a moment. "Don't care about problems with the squadron, don't care about pilots not feeling loved in the cockpit, don't care about frustrations, or how you handle those problems in your arena of authority. I don't care, right up till I see something that can get a squadron leader in the brig for assault on a junior officer." He looks to Addie. "And before a courts marshall, that's exactly what I would be required to honestly say I witnessed." He tilts his head, tone still modified, and calm. "The Ensign has a history, and I know that. He's at the bottom of the totem pole, and that's also know. Known to everyone on the ship, in fact. But the facts are I saw him standing in a non threatening position and you took it physical. You have a lot farther to fall than him. Officially, I'm not about to condone that behavior, but his lack of willingness to get into it makes this just something I saw that nothing's going to come of. That's the official part."

Addie's opinion on the matter remains personal. Her eyes stay on Reed's, chin up, posture still perfect. She looks like she could hold that pose for hours. "I am aware of the angles, sir. You are entirely correct."

Reed nods, "Mmm." He says, "Now here's the unofficial part. If you have to do this kind of thing…" He shakes his head, "You don't frakking do it in the Obs deck. You do it when you're somewhere that you're not going to have anyone walk in on you to witness it. I know the Ensign is a loose cannon and has impulse control issues. Going physical with him is an invitation for brigging, either him, you or both. If you need to handle this like that, then by Hades woman, do it somewhere better than a public area used for relaxation. Drag him off somewhere, and always keep in mind that someone could walk in, see it and make it worse." He leans toward her, "Because if you're not puckered now, the thought of Regas coming in and seeing what I just saw should be enough to make you pucker. The Commander is far from someone who's willing to overlook anything regarding discipline." He straightens, "Personally, I am of the opinion that going for a a man when he's not ready and at an 'At Ease' posture is just cheap. And not worthy of someone in your position."

Addison nods slightly when Reed's offered his thoughts on the matter, and at an appropriate pause she replies, "Your opinion is noted, sir. The Air Wing is a peculiar beast, and I will improve my creative problem solving by doing a better job of relocating it to a more apropos local where possible. Sir."

Reed nods, "And that's pretty much all I'm going to say on the matter, Captain." He shrugs, "As you were." He then turns and moves to a chair.

Addie picks up the small notebook from where it fell beside one of the little upholstered chairs, and she tucks the pencil back into it. "Feeling better, Major?" She turns to follow the man's progress.

Reed levers himself down into the chair, with a sigh, looking at the viewport. "Better's such a relative term, Fender." He blinks then, looking at the stars, "Fender. You saw it, didn't you? you actually saw it, with your own eyes."

Addie nods. "I did." She shakes her head slightly. "It was… a thing to behold." She glances out the viewport, but her mind is back on that combat. She replays a particular part of it in her mind. "I always thought that station was a bit of a clunky mess. Never would have imagined it could do something so spectacular, and quite beautiful."

Reed snorts, "She was beautiful, and she was only three jumps old. I didn't see it. I engineered it, but I was bleeding out on the deck of the Sula when it happened. No one else has seen it, just you pilots in the cockpits of that battle. No one's seen that.. ever. That was the first actual Transverse Hyperlight Implosion in the history of mankind."

"In that case, thanks." Addie actually smiles. "It was a pretty light show and put a dent in our enemy as well. Twofer, as Major Rue would say. You did a beautiful job."

Reed shrugs, "I perverted her. turned her into a doomsday weapon, and shoved her up the cylons toaster asses. All the while praying I set the field parameters right. If I was off, I would have killed everyone, starting with the Vipers." He shakes his head, "We don't have a god of Hyperlight mechanics to pray to for guidance in situations like that, so I just made one to Athena, for the wisdom to do it right. Because what happened to those toasters was horrific and I wouldn't have wanted to inflict that fate on a human."

Hm. Addie thinks on that a moment, her eyes on the stars, and in the end it comes down to this: "It's a good thing you weren't off." Reed knows Science Fu.

Dynames comes in from Corridor 9A.
Dynames has arrived.

Reed nods, "Yeah, I heard that." He scratches the back of his head, rousing himself from the thoughts of what actually happened to those Cylons, "You keep your gun camera footage and telemetry recordings for review in the future, right?"

"We do." Addison nods and continues to stand not far off the view port, near the first row of seating. "If you'd like to see it, I'm sure the CAG wouldn't mind an inquiry." She speaks to Reed, who is seated in one of the chairs.

Reed nods, "I'll talk with her about it." He sits back in the chair, looking to the stars, "How's things otherwise?" He asks, a general question.

"Not bad all around. Deck is working hard to keep us afloat, we haven't lost… as many pilots as I thought we might." Addie slides her notebook to her other hand. "I'm off to the showers. Post CAP notes too a bit of a turn there." She nods to Reed. "Enjoy the peace while it lasts."

Reed inclines his head, "I'll try, Captain, good evening." He says as he looks out at the stars.

Addison nods, and turns to head for the hatch. "That it is." Exit stage left.

Addie leaves for Corridor 9A [O].
Addie has left.

A jaunty little tune is hummed, evident before Dyna's arrival as the door is opened. Bootfalls carry the perky ensign into the Obs and she looks around, lowering her volume a bit.

Reed quirks a brow as he sits upright in the chair, taking his cane and planting it to help him lever himself around to look and see who's humming. He nods, "Hello." He says simply enough.

Dynames smiles at the greetng, and seeing there's no snogging to intrude upon with sound, she returns a cheery, "Hi!" her eyes spy the cane, and she looks to his face with an unspoken concern, though she steps closer easily enough, "Good, quiet night, huh?"

Reed nods, "Indeed." He says, looking to the cane, himself, and settles back into his chair, gesturing to the viewport, "Feel free to enjoy the view, the stars aren't going anywhere."

Dynames settles in near him, "Thank you." she replies. Once she's comfy, she sighs contentedly, and, "I'm Ensign Breit Dynames, Gold Wing." she offers with a million cubit smile and a slender hand offered.

Reed smiles taking the hand in his, and shaking, "Major Reed Carter. Former PAS CO." He replies, "A pleasure, Dynames." He then sits back, settling into the chair to get comfortable.

Dynames gives a little squeeze, "Likewise, sir." she returns, a sympathetic cast to her smile, "How are you mending, Major?"

Reed tilts his head to the side, "Eh, as well as can be expected, in all truth. It's kind of hard when you bravely and ingeniously stop two Cylon slugs with your intestines, but, you know, we have excellent doctors."

"I'm glad, you can joke about it, sir." Dyna replies gently, "It could have been worse, though. It could have been something they couldn't fix. That would have been a shame, you seem like a nice guy." She isn't making the eyes or licking her lips, just making pleasant convo.

Reed shrugs, and lifts his cane, "Well, they gave me a cane, you know, so that's good. I kind of like having a cane, feels distinguished. Or like I should be waving it telling those damn kids to get off my lawn, or something like that." He nods, "Yeah, joking about it is one of the better ways of coping."

Dynames gives a giggle, "Now we just need to get some newpapers printed and find a bathrobe and slippers for you, sir." She clasps her hands and crosses her ankles, "Doesn't the Carina have a lawn?"

Reed gives Dynames an odd look. "I was wearing a bathrobe and slippers in Sickbay before I got released. Nono, T-shirt, plaid shorts of colors not found in nature, sandals and black socks." He nods sagely, "The newspapers are fine as long as they get thrown into some bushes so I can grumble and struggle to retrieve them."

Dynames giggles anew and nods, "Right, right! Sorry, sir." she returns, "I had a neighbor once that would try and thump you on the melon if he caught you on his lawn." For emphasis, she makes a wagging gesture with her hand, as though wielding a stick, "As long as you didn't have earbuds in, he couldn't catch you, though."

Reed nods, smirking, "Stealth is the secret technique of all old fogies." He says with sage wisdom in his voice. "Get within caning range and you have them."

Sloane comes in from Corridor 9A.
Sloane has arrived.

Dynames's face nearly splits with her grin as she snickers, "Angle in off the four o'clock. And keep them between you and the sun so your shadow doesn't tip them off." Yep. In a few years, someone's gonna be Gramps-fu guru for sure.

Reed is sitting in a chair in the front row, in a chair, Dynames sitting somewhere nearby, They're talking, settled back in the furnature, and Reed lifts his cane, at full extension, "Stand in the middle of the a room, draw a circle around yourself, at a distance of your arm and the canes tip, then inward another circle at the distance of your arm without the cane, then inward another circle at your elbow range. and train with those diatances till you can whack a child easiely from any distance. Then you will have your crotchety old man fighting down properly."

A snerk, that starts to escalate into abdomen cramping laughter, and Dyna just about folds in her seat, barely squeaking out, "I can…! I can see it!"

The door opens quietly and Sloane steps through. Turning, he slowly shuts the door to try to make as little sound as possible. The main sound he makes would be the silent sweeping sound of shoes over carpet as he heads to get a cup of coffee. Pouring it quietly, he moves to the secluded part in the corner of the back row and sits down. Pulling out a book, he opens and reclines with his feet on an ottoman…reading quietly.

Reed remains oblivious to anyone coming in as he lifts his cane into the air, straight up and waves it in a circle. "Once this is done, you must train outward from the inner circle, to entangle your cane in the wires of a music player earpieces. when you can snatch a youths godsless musci from them at the outer circle, then, and only then will you have accomplished a truely great feat in the martial art of Gramp-Fu."

Dynames's laughter increases and her arms tuck around her midriff as it raises in octave. She doesn't catch her wingmate arriving, doubled over as she is and she manages to utter a tiny, "Hurts…!" before she tries to calm down. The fact that she can totally SEE him doing this isn't helping.

Lifting an eyebrow as he reclines, Sloane listens quietly to the conversation. Smiling, not interrupting, he curls an eyeball down to their direction as he tugs at his bookmark. Finding the right page, he leans forward and sips his coffee.

Reed has successfully passed along his abdominal pain from his surgery to someone else. Mission accomplished. He then sets his cane down beside his chair, and folds his hands across his stomach, falling silent. Let her regain her breath before continuing.

Dynames eventually manages to gets down to some uneven chuckling amidst several bouts of calming breaths. She straightens up and doesn't look at Reed for a few, not until her mirth has been wrangled down to a quiet shuddering in her shoulders now and then, then. A cough, chuckle, another cough, then, ahem, "You've… you've thought about this."

Setting the coffee down, there's a little scrape of the mug over the end table beside his small sofa that Sloane is sitting on. Clearing his throat, he settles back and lets his presence be known. Smirking lightly, he finds his exact place and starts to read. Boring, yes, but boring for Sloane is also fairly uncommon.

Reed shakes his head, "Nope, just came up with that off the top of my head." He holds out his hand in front of him, palm up, fingers open, "When you can snatch this senility pill from my hand, then you will have graduated into the ranks of the Gramp-Fu." He snaps his hand closed, and back with a 'Whsst!' sound from his mouth, then extends his hand again and snatches it back, 'Whsst!' Then out again, and back, 'Whss-' He stops, takes his cane and plants it, levering himself around to look to the sound of the noise, seeing Sloane, "Hello." He says with a nod.

Dynames watches the display with only the lip-curling undulations of trying not to bust out laughing again. As the scrape and ahem, she turns to regad her wing, giggle, "H-hi, Bread! How are you?" Reedglance-giggle.

"Hello Sir." Sloane says with a smile. "I'm good. I'm afraid I came too late at the end of the joke so I'm out of it, but I didn't want to interrupt." He adds. Nodding to his book, he runs a hand through his lightly damp hair. "I just got off a shift. I'm not interrupting am I?"

Reed shakes his head, shrugging, "Nothing worth maintaining once the train of thought is lost." He glances to Dynames, then back to Sloane, "Bread.. CORNbread? You saw it too, in the battle of the Muskeg system." He considers, looking at the pilot. then he looks at Dynames, "What's your callsign?"

Dynames shakes her head, "Not at all, we're just talking." she assures Sloane, then turns back to Reed, "Tempo, sir." She's been bounced around the fleet for the last few months.

"Yes. Actually…" Sloane clears his throat. "..the battle over Muskeg was my first combat engagement. I was just getting aquainted with the air wing and I got shot out of the launch tubes in the first wave." He replies, looking down to them.

Reed nods to Sloane, "Take a seat, Cornbread, be comfortable." He invites, "You actually witnessed the destruction of the station. That's.." He tilts his head, "More than I got. Do you remember your Line of Fire at the time of the pulse release?" He asks, curiously.

Dynames goes silent as the situation goes heavy and, with a slightly awed, vaguely concerned look, she watches the two talk without intruding.

Sloane stands and grabs his mug. Book in hand, he moves to sit at one of the sofas behind where they are. "I got a very good view of it. Was sweating bullets providing cover to the escaping Raptors at the time, sir." He scratches the side of the head, giving them both a charming little smile. "Pulse Release? I thought it was a singularity of some sort that collapsed in on itself."

Reed nods, "Yeah, well, it was, but the pulse.." He waves his hand in the air, "Okay, in a nutshell. The PAS jumped into a Base Star. Then, the station emitted a reversed focus FTL field, in a controlled pulse. It would have looked like.. a white.. light, fluorescing, into the visual spectrum, a solid white field, that swept out, engulfing the Cylons, then the Hyperlight generators quantum singularized, becoming black hole material. Now the FTL field encased the event horizon of the gravity well, everything inside the field was sucked in, everything outside it." He looks at Sloane, "You, for example, was unaffected. Then the field collapsed, retracting in, and condensing the black hole further, into cosmic egg material, right before it transited out of the space/time continuum altogether to drop out of the universe, where it detonated, creating a parallel universe." He gives this pretty fast, but clear, as if he's been over it enough, "My question is, at the beginning during the initial pulse release, were your gun cameras pointed at the station and base stars?"

Dynames blinks as Reed Geordi's before her very eyes in a manner most confounding. Given her planetary sciences degress, she understood probably four out of five words, though the combinations of verbal seepage are unlike any released orally in her proximity, before, well, "You knocked up a basestar and you're the proud father of a new universe…." she comments dubiously. Given the decree from on high…. that's a wedding she won't be attending, thank you. And sitting? N-F-W!

Sloane flashes Dynames a wicked smile. Putting his bookmark back into his book, he sets it aside and sips his coffee. "That battle was…simply more than I expected. There were raiders everywhere so no…I didn't have my gun cam in the right direction. It was about three o'clock from me and far out of cane distance." He grins. "Was a hell of a sight though."

Reed looks to Dynames, and shakes his head, "No, I didn't use the PAS to impregnate the Cylons, I shoved it up their toaster asses." He says, then looks to Sloane, and nods, "Okay. I'll.." He gestures, "Just have to snag the CAG and get her to grant me access to the gun camera and telemetry recordings of the battle and sift through the data myself."

Dynames grins a little, "Sorry, sir. Word on high. Got babies on the brain, I guess." wink. She looks to Sloane, "Wish I could have helped there, but I was sitting in an alert Viper at the time."

"Wish you could have helped too. It was pretty hairy out there. I managed to get my Viper busted up a bit, made a hard landing. There was another prepped and I was fine so I managed to make it back out to the fight." Sloane chuckles, looking between the two of them. "Yeah…lots of news on babies lately, huh?"

Reed nods, "Yeah, I-" He stops, then shakes his head, "I don't really know what exactly is going on, truth be known." He frowns, taking his cane, and levering himself up to stand, "I'm not really sure what set this all off, but it had to be something. If you'll both excuse me, I need to get my head out of physics stunts and into the more direct problems."

Dynames straightens, blinking. She just stepped in something, didn't she? "Sorry, sir!" the pilot offers quickly, figuring she just ruined the moment of technobabble for everyone.

"Well if you ever want to talk physics sometime sir feel free. It was my major." Sloane replies, setting his coffee down beside him. Turning to watch Reed to start to walk off, he looks to Dynames. He makes a face at her. "I killed the laughter, didn't I?"

Reed pauses, looking at the pilots, and smiles shaking his head, "Don't worry about it, you two didn't do anything wrong. Good meeting you, Tempo, Cornbread." He nods to both before he sets off, caning his way to the exit.

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