Help Me Out, Here
Help Me Out, Here
Summary: Hazzard asks Zaharis for some advice.
Date: 62 ACH
Related Logs: None

Mess Hall Genesis - Deck 9
62 ACH 23817 Souls

The Mess Hall on the Genesis is quite large and able to hold over 300 personnel at a time. Tables are staggered in some areas and set against the wall in others. The mess hall begins near the hatch with an area for trays and silverware, then moves through the line for the cooks to dish up whatever is on the menu for the day. There are also snack machines at the end of the line, past the huge coffee urns and water dispensers.

Hazzard makes his way into the mess hall, newly showered and with a worn expression upon his face. It seems the Sergeant has been working night and day more or less since the Nebula incident. He nods his head towards some of the marines in here as he makes his way over towards the food line.

Zaharis is sitting on his own somewhere in the mess hall, reading over some file of chemical data or something equally dry. He smokes a cigarette as he does so, his plate of food mostly empty nearby.

It takes it's time, but soon enough Hazzard has made his way through the line with a tray of food and looks over the hall for a place to seat himself. Spotting Zaharis he makes his way over and arches an eyebrow. "Mind if I sit, Doc?"

"If you're not going to bitch about the smoke then knock yourself out," Zaharis replies, turning the page in the file. He flicks his thumb against the filter of the cigarette, sending some ash tumbling into the little tray by his arm.

"I inhale gun smoke rather often, I doubt nicotine will kill me." Hazzard says with a little smile as he settles himself down and digs into his food. After a moment he looks up towards Zaharis. " Officer Sullivan, she is one of yours right?"

Zaharis looks up from the file, regarding Hazzard from under his dark brows. "Yep. Why?"

Hazzard shrugs. " know..Been talking to her and some..was wondering, what you could tell me about her?" he arches an eyebrow, trying to look incospicous.

Zaharis turns his head to exhale smoke off to the side. "Like what, exactly?"

"Well your her boss.." Hazzard grits his teeth. "Frak man, if I went to a dinner with heard her talk about what she likes and all?"

Zaharis regards Hazzard for a while as smoke drifts. He smirks slightly. "What are you, about ten years her senior? Twelve?"

Hazzard chuckles softly. "I'm not interested in her that way Doc..I like her, she is a bundle of energy..Kiss her is about as far as I'd go." he shakes his head as he takes another piece of food. Chewing he then swallows. "I'm a Marine, I don't wish to put anyone through the world of hurt it takes to loose another again you know."

Zaharis gievs Hazzard a 'yeah, okay' kind of look at the protest. He takes a drag off the cigarette. "You can ditch the noble stuff, it's okay. We're all human up here." He shrugs once. "She likes cigars."

[Intercom] Medical to Ares Squadron Berthing. Medical to Ares Squadron Berthing. Fast is good.

"Cigars huh..Guess I should trade me some from Zeus." Hazzard mutters softly as he furrows his eyebrows as he goes back to his food for a moment. As the call comes, he glances up towards Zaharis with an arched eyebrow.

Zaharis doesn't glance up. He's the Chief Medical Officer, he doesn't hop to for medic calls. "Probably like that. She was looking for some a while ago."

Hazzard nods his head slowly. "Not the easiest fish to catch that one..the PO I mean." he mutters after a moment. "Drove me insane last night, with that new CIC Ensign…Chione?"

Zaharis ashes the cigarette, twisting the lit end against the edge of the tray. "Last night?"

"At the Gym..Tried to train, but they spoke about Lingerie..Hard to train then, I assure you." Hazzard mutters with a chuckle.

Zaharis takes a slow drag off the cigarette, setting his arm on the table. "You don't say."

"Too many influences here on the ship.." Hazzard mutters as he talks now and then between the bites of his food. "Frak, I guess I'm getting old huh."

"That what it is?" Zaharis smirks, exhaling smoke through his nose. "I don't know, you look pretty young for seventy."

Hazzard glances back up towards Zaharis and smiles. "Spend alot of time outdoors, work out..and I don't smoke." he says with a little chuckle to his voice.

"Neither do I. Filthy habit." Zaharis ashes his smoke into the tray. "What are you, thirty? Thirty-two?"

Hazzard chuckles. "Thirty five Doc.." he takes a sip on his 'milk' and glances over towards the exit hatch. "Age doesn't matter much in my line of work.."

"You're the one talking about getting old," Zaharis reminds the Marine, then snorts. "If you still get distracted by twenty-year-old Ensigns discussing lingerie I can guarantee you're not old."

Hazzard chuckles and takes a deep breath. "I dont know Doc..I'm glad I'm not becoming an old horn dog..But this whole..feeling thing, I don't do it well.." he straightens up and places his hands on the table. "I try to excel at what I does one mix that with being tender and compassionate?"

"Uh." Zaharis ashes the cigarette again. "Well. Trying to force yourself to be a certain way never works, you know. Eventually you get tired of it and let it drop, and if it's been a farce all along then the other party gets disillusioned pretty quick. I mean, you're thirty-five. Haven't you…had an interest in someone before?"

Hazzard nods his head. "Never told her though..Never will either." he doesnt state that the 'war' claimed that chance. "I assume you mean in my adult life right?"

Zaharis waves a hand slightly. "Let's call it since puberty, yeah."

Hazzard grits his teeth. "I joined the service straight out of school.." he leans back in his seat and runs a hand through his hair. "Years just passed me by..Sexual encounters sure, but feelings..well that once."

"What's the service got to do with it?" Zaharis smirks. "If the service eliminated all chance of developing feelings for a person, I think recruiting would've been a shit lot easier." He takes a drag on the cigarette. "Ever done something nice for another person? Ever listened to someone who wanted to talk?"

Hazzard grins. "Lending an ear to a fellow Marine sure..I'm not a toaster Doc.." he licks his lips. "My brother often asked me, why I do it..My family and friends back home, thought I was a war junkie.." he shakes his head slightly. "They don't understand that I dont do what I do for the colonies or some predident..I did it for the man next to me." he sighs. "I just don't know takes." he snaps his fingers. "A certain something to look through the scope at another man. Squeezing the trigger, anyone can do it..Sleeping well at night, that is where the catch comes in."

"Eh." Zaharis shrugs. "Everyone in the service has some reason they think they're abnormal. Marines and their guns. Engineers go on about how they work with machines, so they don't understand humans. MPs and JAG say they deal with human evil all the time, so they can't see the good anymore. Weapons guys, you don't even want to know." He smirks and shakes his head, looking at the Marine. "We can't all be frakked up, Hazz. We do our jobs. But when it's just us and another person in a room, we're still human."

Hazzard curls his lips into a smile. "I don't consider myself frakked up Doc..I'm not an monk, I'm just saying..I've learned to cut off parts of me, bury it deep down..Makes it hard to open up to someone."

"I'm sure it does," Zaharis replies, after a second or two. "Not too much way to force yourself to do it, either. But you can bet someone like the PO is going to ask. All you can really do is tell yourself you're going to be honest."

"Yeah.." Hazzard suddenly chuckles and shakes his head. "Frak, I've never even bought flowers to a woman.."

"Yeah…" Zaharis squints an eye, scratching his eyebrow with his ring finger. "We don't have too many flowers around these days, so it'd probably be a bad time to get a taste for it."

Hazzard nods his head once again. "Soo.." he pauses. "Mind if I ask how..Rhea is it, took the news of her husband?" he asks after a moment with an arch of an eyebrow.

Zaharis makes a similar arch of brow. "Well as she can be. I'm sure she'd appreciate if you asked her that yourself. Get you some practice in that whole compassion thing, too."

Hazzard lets out a deep breath. "Yeah, would be the decent thing to do huh…has anyone told her what really happened?"

"Of course. Military doesn't patronize. We're big boys and girls around here." Zaharis replies. He stubs out the dying cigarette and picks up his cup of lukewarm coffee. "Besides, can't well keep incident reports from a department head."

Hazzard arches an eyebrow. "Care to tell me what the report said?" he leans forth once again to continue his meal. "I've not read it, but I was there.." was that a nice way of saying that reports don't always tell the whole truth.

"I didn't read the whole thing." Zaharis says, looking at Hazzard. "Being as I was there too."

Hazzard blinks as he looks at Zaharis and then narrows his eyes. "You were in the bridge with me, Gars an Desusa?"

"On the Persius?" Zaharis raises an eyebrow slightly. "Yeah, I was."

"There you go..I was to caught up in trying to get a good shot I missed you there, Doc." Hazzard murmurs before he continues to 'feast' on his dinner. "Glad someone who was there spoke to her…I think that is important."

"I don't believe in shielding people." Zaharis sips his cooling coffee. "It's not a right anyone has."

"I agree, I'd hate if I died on a foreign colony and my parents and family never were told how I died." Hazzard mutters and then looks up. "I guess they would not need the full truth though..It can be rather messy."

"Well. Not exactly how many bullets to head someone took," Zaharis says, his voice touching ironic. "If you're going to break the news of a death there's no need to be morbid."

Hazzard nods. "Then we are in agreement.."

Zaharis smiles. "Cheers." He lifts the coffee and takes a few swallows.

Hazzard lifts his glass of milk in a salute and nods his head. "Soo any scuttlebutt I should know?"

Zaharis chuckles behind the rim of his cup. "I'm a department head, Hazz. My job's to carefully ignore scuttlebutt so it can continue."

((Fade to black))

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