I'm pregnant, Commander
I'm pregnant, Commander.
Summary: Pepper visits, dropping a bomb on Regas. The CMO is called to do stitches then Salin arrives for the snarkfest.
Date: 89 ACH - 2/10/2009
Related Logs: None


Corridor 11E Genesis - Deck 11

89 ACH 23817 Souls

This corridor is an offshoot of the main one. The Command staff retain their quarters here. Low-lit halogen lights are along the corridor and a marine guard is always stationed outside the CO's quarters as well as roaming guard protecting this hallway in general.


Around 1100, word was sent that Pep was aboard and would be aboard, in the XO's cabin, until 1500, if the Commander had time. Aside from that, nothing was heard from her or seen of her. The door to Salin's cabin is slightly ajar, however, as if someone was just waiting for the tell-tale growl.

Tell-tale growl? Not exactly at the moment, but things do tend to change! The marine on the deck comes to attention with a 'Sir!' Which is good enough for anyone listening. If he notices the XO's hatch ajar, he isn't pausing.

She gives the CO enough time to get into his quarters and get settled, at least ten minutes or so, before she steps out in the hall to knock on his door.

You head towards Commanding Officers Quarters.


Commanding Officers Quarters Genesis - Deck 11

89 ACH 23817 Souls

The CO's quarters are rather expansive. A large desk, small seating area, head and sleeping quarters are kept neat and tidy.


You hear shouting: Enter!

Pepper comes in from Corridor 11E.

Pepper has arrived.

Regas has unhooked the top button on his uniform and is heading for his desk as the knock comes in not too long after. Turning, he sees the Marine open the hatch and allow Pepper inside, "I guess I'm not at the top of your visitation list any longer? I can be thankful for steel walls."

Pep blinks at him for a moment, then smiles a little wryly. "No Sir, it's not that," she says quietly. "I'm just not about to make any undue demands on your time and can wait until work's been taken care of." At least she's come bearing gifts. It looks like a few slices of pie from Germans' kitchen on Hera. Her head cants to the side and she grins. "Or at least until you make it back to quarters. I debated waiting until you sent for me, but decided to take a chance."

Regas glances to the pie as he stands there and then the Ensign, "Bearing gifts, this must be the point I take my chair." He moves to do so, the leather creaking slightly. He's waiting now, for whatever explosion this visit will bring to his life.

Her head tilts slightly to the side and she steps forward, sliding the pie to his desk before she perches on the edge of a seat. "No explosions Commander, I promise," Pep offers with a grin. She looks good - tired, but healthy and relaxed, even bearding the lion in his den. "I was just wondering if you would give me away when the Colonel and I get married." There, mini bombshell dropped and away.

Regas glances back to the pie, then up to Pepper perched on the seat. "Going from hand holding, lying about your relationship, to sleeping together, to getting married." He's frowning slightly, "You two don't waste much time, do you?" His chair creaks again, "You barely know him, Pepper. Yet, you've given yourself over like some cheap harlot looking for a husband before she gets tossed to the curb. What has it been? Three weeks, tops?"

"Five," she replies, folding her hands on top of each other, left over right. There's a ring on her finger. "And you're right, we did move quickly. That's something we've discussed a few times." So apparently there IS some talking going on between bouts of rattling Regas' connecting wall. "As for lying about our relationship, Commander? I never lied to you about that." Pep settles back, head tilting. "We decided that, given the current climate and given how we both seem to feel, we'd prefer not to wait." While her facial expression and posture don't change much, Regas can likely read her eyes. She's confident about Salin, but also worried.

"And rumors going around that I promoted him cause he is sleeping with you, along with a few other things," Regas does that tell-tale growl now, just for good measure. He's had a shitty week, to say the least. He unbuttons another so the flap lies back on his chest. "Five." He pauses. "Five months, would be better." A shake of his head, "It's obvious your mind is well and made up and nothing I can do or say will change it. I don't agree with it and no, I will not give you away. It goes against my principles on this. I'm sure Mr. Fulton is a better 'father figure' than I could ever be and would enjoy giving you away. He probably understands all this."

She'd been hopeful - again, he can see it in her eyes. She's quiet for a moment, then nods, once. "I think everyone knows the reason you promoted him, Commander, except for the small minds. I've been worried about those rumors as well. Both he and Jameson told me to ignore them. Would Salin and I dating for five months before we get married make you more comfortable?"

"Little late for that, isn't it?" Regas comments. "I'm just glad your father isn't here to see this. But then, how he raised his daughter, was different than I expected apparently." He rises then, "You can take your bribes out with you when you leave, Ensign." He makes a motion to the pie and heads for his small bathroom area.

For once, Pep remains where she is, though she stands. "Commander," she says quietly. "Please don't shut me out. I know that you're disappointed, if you feel anything at all. I don't want this hanging between us. Please."

Regas is already mixing up some shaving cream by the time she speaks again, "I'm going to explain myself and only once. Where I come from, you don't just jump into bed with the first Tom and Dick you find exciting. I'm disappointed. I expected better, but that isn't to be. Do you realize I've just barely been able to kiss the CAG? And we've known each other for years." He begins dabbing along his jawline. "Don't expect me to celebrate your five week frakfest with saying how I support it by giving you away."

Pepper rests a hand on the arm of the chair, fingers curling into it. "I'm not sorry things happened the way they did, Commander. Not between Salin and I. And he's by far the first man I've ever found interesting. Did I make a mistake letting things move too quickly? I don't know. I don't think so." The barbs seem to be hitting home, though. "Perfection is difficult. I regret that his promotion has the tinge of scandal about it. I thought we could ride out the rumors. I thought…a lot of things. I can't seem to figure a way out of this, no matter how hard I look for the answers. It seems as if it's one thing on top of another on top of another."

"Welcome to the big leagues," Regas rinses out his razor and begins taking off the stubble around his goatee. "You'll live with your decisions now. Right or wrong."

"And with the Colonel, I'll be happy," Pep says quietly. "I'm marrying a good man, a man who loves me. But more than that, I'm marrying the man I will spend the rest of my life standing by." Rather than walking out, as she'd normally do when dismissed, she settles back on the edge of the chair.

"So young," the Commander mutters, still shaving, rinse, scrape, repeat. But he seems to be done talking about it in any case.

There's silence from the other room. Has she left? Apparently not, though her next words are quietly spoken. "I'm pregnant, Commander. And I'm terrified." Soldiers never cry. Soldiers show no fear. Apparently she's got a little more of her mother in her than ever gets shown. That's all she says, though.

People just know when to say something to him while the Commander is concentrating. First the thing with the CAG and his golf swing, now the thing with the Ensign and his shaving. The cut gleams red among white and then all is silent. Too silent. Not even a frak as the blood begins dripping down his jawline and falls into the sink water with a small 'plop'.

Pepper remains where she is, staring blindly at her hands, silent. No, no tears, though she looks like she wants to. There's no movement, no sound from the other room, except for her quiet breathing.

Regas comes out of his sudden system shock and takes up a towel to his jaw now. Razor cuts hurt like a bitch and this one was a little deep. Wiping off the rest of the shaving cream, he walks out of the small Head and holds the towel there. Some blood drops smearing on his open flap. He's usually so meticulous. "Get out." It's like tossing his daughter out into the frozen snow without a coat.

She looks up at him, standing as he comes in. It's clear that some part of her was expecting those words and that sentiment. Another part of her was the eternal optimist, hoping. Yet another part of her remains a bit detached. "I found out less than a week ago," Pepper says in a quiet voice, chin coming up slightly. "I'm not aborting the child." She watches him for another moment, then turns and starts toward the door.

The Commander says nothing about that. Abortion would really be beyond him, even so. "Let your future husband know, I want to see him. I also want to know when you make your conjugal visits, so I won't be present on this deck."

Pepper stands at the door, hand on the frame, fingers white-knuckled. "You won't need to worry about that, Commander," she says quietly, swaying on her feet, though she's trying her damndest not to let him see that. "I…" Just by that one syllable he can tell that something's wrong. "I'm sorry, Commander." With very precise care she reaches out to open the hatch.

Regas has turned and walked back into the head now. His jaw a mess and he tosses the towel into a wastebasket as he finds something to stem the cut. When the hatch does close, his fist slams into the mirror and cracks it into pieces. Yay, more blood.

It closes with a very soft, very quiet sound behind her.

You call wireless receiver 454. You must wait for someone to answer.

Someone answers your wireless call. You can now use the 'private' wireless channel to talk to them.

[Private] Zaharis says, "Sickbay, Zaharis."

[Private] "Genesis Actual" Regas says, "This is Regas, doc. Bring your stitch kit to my quarters."

[Private] Zaharis says, "Yes, sir. I'll be right down."

[Private] "Genesis Actual" Regas hangs up the wireless and ends the call.

Zaharis has arrived.

The CMO is let in as soon as the Marine sees him.

Zaharis returns the Marine's salute on the way in. In his fatigues, he's got one of the small black medical kits with him, red cross stamped brightly on the front. "Commander?"

Regas is still bleeding from the cut along his jaw from the razor, but he's shoved some toilet paper on it and his hand is wrapped in another towel when he steps out of the Head once more. The carnage back there is a busted mirror and a bloody sink. "Don't ask, just find me a drink."

Oh boy. "Drink, right." Zaharis sees no reason to argue with that order. He puts the kit down on Regas' table and heads for the cabinet where he knows the booze is. One glass, a few fingers poured of the first bottle he pulls off the shelf. He extends it over to Regas, eyeing the bloody toilet paper and towel.

Regas snags the drink and knocks it back. The glass gets set down on the table and then he is sitting in a chair. "She's pregnant." Ok, so he didn't have to ask. He got the jist of it right there. His jaw is working tightly, making the deep cut bleed even further.

Zaharis hesitates before he replies. "Yes, sir." He takes a step back and pops the case, revealing the antiseptics, gauze, and stitching equipment packed efficiently inside. He pulls another chair close to Regas', where he can reach. "Want to let me see that hand?"

Regas takes the 'Yes sir' as a general agreement, not that the CMO knew! He reaches over and unwraps his hand, the knuckles looking pretty bad there. Shards of glass in the skin also.

Zaharis, for his part, doesn't clarify his statement. That whole doctor-patient thing is such a bitch. He sets the towel across his knees and picks up a little bottle of water from the case with a thin nozzle, squeezing it so the liquid irrigates the cuts on Regas' knuckles. His eyes flicker to the bathroom and then back down as he picks up some tweezers. "Told you while you were shaving, I take it."

Someone is knocking at the door.

The Skipper does a wince when that has to be cleaned out. It's possible his shock is slowly wearing off to bring some of the pain back now. "Yes." The small grunt following and then his head comes up as the knock arrives.

You hear shouting: Frakking Enter!

Salin comes in from Corridor 11E.

Salin has arrived.

Zaharis is sitting next to Regas with a bloody towel across his legs, gently tweezing some large pieces of glass out of the Commander's bloody knuckles. Regas' face is bloody too, chin packed with toilet paper. In the Head is a busted mirror and bloody sink. The CMO glances up at the knock and then back down, continuing to work. It means he misses seeing exactly who walks in, lucky him.

The Commander watches as that hatch opens. He expected the arrival having told Pepper to send out the word. "Shut the hatch." He says in a dark tone to his XO.

The hatchway opens and Salin is stepping through, only to pause. Eyes play between Regas and Zaharis and there's a -very- soft groan before he's reaching back and closing the hatch behind him. Then, there's a couple of steps forward and he simply chooses to stand there.

Zaharis now looks up, hearing the tone of Regas' voice. He doesn't look surprised that it's Salin, and apparently the CMO has no desire to be in the middle of this right now. He gets another shard of glass out of Regas' hand and puts the tweezers down, handing the towel back to the Commander. "Permission to be dismissed, sir?" He asks, rather firmly. "I'll be available when you're ready."

"Don't go far," Regas tells Zaharis and simply watches his XO. It's hard to say if he'll be bruising some more knuckles before this is over with.

Salin's eyes turn towards Zaharis and he's offering the very briefest of nods before he's looking back towards Regas. "Commander," is about all that he offers right now.

Zaharis nods to both men and turns to go. He leaves the kit open on the table.

Zaharis leaves for Corridor 11E [O].

The Commander's next words are very simple and direct, "Explain and don't leave anything out. I hate to be surprised…" a pause, "As you can tell."

That simply causes his brow to arch slightly and he's looking down towards the Commander's hand before his gaze lifts back upwards, "And just what do you want me to say, Tarik?" Questions like that, don't pertain to Fleet Duties and apparently he's fully intending to take this off the record, "Pepper is pregnant. I asked her to marry me." There's a pause and he's lifting a hand, making a motion towards Regas, "Something that -you- told me I had better do. For the record."

Regas rises off the chair, rewrapping his hand up. "Yes, I did. Not that I knew you'd get the full package before you even stepped back out the door." He returns to his liquor cabinet, for another drink. Not exactly offering the new father one. "This puts a new light on the subject. Which is should have mulled over before I gave you the XO position." He drinks now. "I'm not happy." There's an overstatment. "She comes to me asking me to give her away and then springs the pregnancy on me as well. All in five weeks. I'm fairly amazed at how fast you work, Altair. I shouldn't be surprised though, considering your efficiency as a JAG officer."

His hand lowers, returning behind his back as he remains rooted to his selected spot on the floor, "If you want to give into rumors and scuttlebutt, Tarik, go ahead. I'll give you my resignation all wrapped up on a golden platter, so that you can wash you hands of the issue. But if it's not this, it's going to be something else." There's a pause, a slight narrowing of his eyes, "I won't justify that last part with a comment."

"Rumors and scuttlebutt? Looks like the whole ship knew before I did. And it doesn't look good for my XO to have that kind of crap following them around." Regas shuts the cabinet door, "You need to be with your new wife and child. The last thing I need with my crew and the civilians sitting up and taking notice, is talk that I can't keep them my ship in control."

"And what the frak do you intend to do, Tarik? Ship off everyone who decides to marry? Who doesn't fit into your vision of your 'perfect little world'?" Salin's snapping out before giving his head a shake, "You do realize that there's nothing left but the few ships in this Fleet? That we're getting no more freshly training recruits from the Academy? And that each battle that we participate in, our numbers continue to dwindle and dwindle." Hands unclasp now, arms resting by his side, "So what. There was a rumor or two. I'm perfectly capable of dealing with that aspect of things."

Regas has a perfect little world, dammit! "Not everyone." He admits, keeping his voice neutral, even though it's taking a bit of that alcohol to still the pain along his jaw and hand right now.

"Not everyone." Salin echo's, his head shaking again, "I guess that simply answers what I would have said next. I sure as frak know that you wouldn't ship the CAG off, if people we're spreading rumors about her. Hell, you issued an eddict about frontline personal being forced to muster out, and she was still flying." There's another head shake, "We're all adults here, Tarik. We're making do with what we have. There's a young woman on the Hera that absolutely worships the ground that you walk on and it seems, at every pass, that you just want to toss that aside. When, you and her are the closest each other has to family."

"Don't even frakking go there, Salin. She lost that baby." Regas grits out tightly, which just causes more pain along the cut. "And don't even think I wouldn't have asked her to step down and she would have." There's a tic along his mouth now, showing he is holding in his anger pretty well at this point. "Do you think I jeopardize my job over a woman? Not hardly. But you don't see me sneaking in and out of her quarters either."

Oh. Well. Insert foot into mouth, "Frak. I'm sorry. I didn't know." Salin's offering, in a touch milder tone. But that's about it, for he's shaking his head again, "No. I don't. And you don't frakking well see me sneaking off into someone's quarters. Nor is the Ensign 'sneaking' into mine. If you can't see it, it's because you failed to do so. And if you think it's jeopardizing my job, you live in one hell of a perfect world, Tarik." One hand lifts from his arm, rubbing gently at his face, "I really don't care what people think, Tarik. It doesn't effect my work, negatively. It doesn't effect my capabilities, negatively. Hell, the only one that's making a big deal out of this, and has been, is you."

"Just the fact that she only visits me with pie, cookies and other bribes, shows she has no faith in that 'family' you seem to enjoy tossing at me," Regas chews again, "Until she needs to drop some bomb on me about what is going on in her life. Then she shows up in my quarters. It never becomes a thought when her legs are in the air." Slam. Dunk.

Salin seems to be doing a pretty good imitation of Regas' tic at the moment and something that's said causes his eyes to narrow further, "You know something, Tarik, the Ensign was right when she said you needed to get your head out of your ass." That's let sit for about half a second before he continues, "If you hadn't so casually tossed her aside and had actually had a set and told her why you transferred her, maybe she wouldn't feel like she needs to try and allay you with gifts. But then again, lately, -you've- never really been much of a father figure to her, nor a mentor to the crew. Guess she's just following the example being set, mmm?" A hand lifts and Sal's waving it, almost dismissively, "Don't even need to say it. I'll see to my own AIQ."

"AIQ?" The Commander echoes. "Those go so well don't they? As if you'd think I'd put you on a mini-vacation, XO. No..no..you are so grand at stating you can do your job without being compromised with your fiance. A mentor to the crew? I don't think I remember you showing up to see the wounded in sickbay when the come off a raid. I don't see you out there calming down Civilians when they are pissed off at the actions of what our Officers did. I don't have one report on my desk on what happened at the civilian meeting either. Were you frakking then too?"

Zing. Something that's said strikes home with Salin and he simply offers a quick sigh, "You're right. Must have been frakking then. Probably one of those unexpected ones that I failed to add to my schedule. One second, let me check." A hand slips into his pocket and he actually withdraws a small PDA which he's activating. Then, there's a quick nod, "Yep. Right there. 1500 hours. Lieutenant Sheila Phelps. Engineering." The device is powered off and slipped back into his pocket, "Was able to sneak her in amongst the implementation of the Economy. And meeting with the Civilians on the other issues. And the whole other host of meetings. Speaking of which, I really need to make more time for frakking." A pause, "You satisified? I'm sure I can go on."

"Now you are just being a sarcastic ass," Regas tells him, "If you are meeting with civilians, some aren't aware who is the Liason over there. Which I am doubting you have time for now anyway. We'll find another. The Genesis is your top priority at the moment. You fix it here, before you go somewhere else and try to set up shop again. I want someone on this mess that was brought up on the Destiny, if a pilot was raped or she gave it up willingly and then punched the guy the next morning because she had no better sense." His gaze raises then, "And I want it yesterday, XO, don't sit on it. Now, get out."

"As if you weren't? Old proverb: What's good for the goose, is good for the Commander. Commander." Salin offers with a very slight nod of his head, "No problem. I'll pass along my notes to the next representative that you decide to handle it. They can deal with Ms. Aragon, who's been acting on the Civilian's behalf, since so many of them can't be bothered to put down their drinks for five minutes." A pause, "When the issue of rape is raised by those involved, it'll be looked into. Not before. Not on the impression of some Ensign who doesn't know the letter of the law from an FTL drive." But, he does come somewhat to attention before giving a salute before turning on heel and toe and making his way to the hatchway. It's opened, but before he can step through, he's casting a look over his shoulder, "You'll lose her, Commander, if you keep this up. Word of advice? Suck it the frak up and work with what you have. It's all, any of us, have left." Then, he's gone.

"Do your godsdamned job when you are told to do it or find another one," Regas growl as the man goes out the hatch, giving the marines something to chew on now.

Salin leaves for Corridor 11E [O].

Salin has left.

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