In Scotch Veritas
In Scotch Veritas
Summary: Zaharis goes over to Reed's quarters to patch him up after the PAS jump, and the liquor doth flow.
Date: 4 BCH (9 November 2008)
Related Logs: White PAS Can Jump

Commanders Quarters Support Station PAS - Deck 4
3 BCH 2235 Souls

The Commanders Quarters of the PAS station is a large area, decorated in a subdued style, carrying a sense of quiet antiquity. Shelves of secured textbooks line one of the walls, with titles ranging from quantum mechanics to ecological reference materials. On the walls are a few certificates of accomplishment the commander keeps on display. There is a table with chairs situated in an open area, as well as a few comfortable chairs about a low coffee table. Two locked cabinets are set into the wall that divide a portion of the room off into a sleeping area, complete with a standard wardrobe. One corner is dedicated to the working of the station, with a large wooden desk on which is a computer, wireless and jar of candies. Behind the chair at the desk is a locked file cabinet, while in front of the desk are two chairs where those who are here for 'business' are regularly seated. Things here are kept neat and tidy.

Reed is sitting at his desk, tray of noodles, baked chicken, salad and a roll sitting next to a mostly full bottle of scotch, and a half empty glass. Reed's sitting back in OFF DUTY WEAR, eating a small bowl of chocolate cake with a spoon. He calls out, "CO's office is closed for business till noon tomorrow, unofficial visits only."

"Awesome," Zaharis replies as he steps in. "You can claim I was never here." He's in offduties too, his duty shirt completely gone somewhere. Over his shoulder, the black strap crossing over his chest to the other hip, is a medic's bag with a bright red cross on it. His dark eyes skim over the food as he slides his hands into his pockets, nodding appreciatively. "Very nice. You're a man that knows his rewards."

Reed watches Zaharis a moment, "I'm pathetic. I'm Navy damnit. I've been off alcohol so long, I pour four fingers of scotch, down two, and wham, it hits me, so I order some food." He points at the tray of food. He then looks at the cake in his hand, "Just want the cake now." He's suffering from likely aftereffects of adreneline drop and hit with alcohol, tension release, and the like. He's not deeply drunk, but he's not fighting to maintain control either.

Zaharis laughs under his breath. "Nothing wrong with that." His shoulders shrug under the gray T-shirt and ugly brown tank top. "Who cares, long as it's at least enjoyable. It's at least good scotch and good cake, right?"

Reed looks at the cake, "Typical cake." He then sits up, putting the cake on the desk and stands, moving from his desk to his bookshelf, "For the scotch, you can see for yourself." He looks at a collection of Gemenese Cultural Anthropology journals, running a hand along the spines.

Zaharis starts to hold up a hand to indicate for Reed not to get up, but is too slow. He slides the hand back into his pocket, taking a few lazy steps towards the bookshelf to see what Reed's on about, brow raised.

Reed takes the top of one of the books and pulls. All the long row of journals spines pull down on a hinge, and lock into place, making a shelf, inside is a bar. Bottles, glasses, cocktail fixings. He takes a scotch glass and turns, blinking at Zaharis, "You're still standing, sit, sit." He waves a hand at the chairs, "Wait." He hands Zaharis the glass, then repeats the gesture, "Sit, sit."

"Sir, yes, sir." Zaharis spits that out without even a hint of formality, smirking slightly as he does indeed take the glass and sit. The medic bag's pulled off his shoulder and set down to rest as he watches the bookshelf miracle, slouching back comfortably in the chair. He laughs pleasantly at the bar setup. "I like it. The quarters come with that or did you design that yourself?"

Reed turns to the bar, taking a water bottle from it and closes the books back into their hiding place, "Ordered it from Picon." He moves back to his desk, setting the water bottle on the desk by the food, and pushes the scotch toward Zaharis, gesturing for him to help himself. "I drink water with the food, the scotch, I might need to go easy on till I get some more in my stomach." He picks up a drumstick, "Was it the Medic or Zimmerman?" He asks, before taking a bite out of the drumstick.

Zaharis does indeed help himself, pouring a healthy few fingers of scotch into the glass. Reed's seen him drink before, this will barely faze him. "Rhea, of course. She only reports the people she likes." He gestures the glass with both hands, tilting his head as he looks at Reed. "And you know, even off-duty I can't drink and treat. So if you really want some drinking company, give me five minutes to look over that burn first and I promise I won't say another word about it."

Reed chews, lifting a finger from around the base of the drumstick as he swallows, then drops the drumstick back with the chicken breast then opens the water bottle, "One second.." He takes a deep drink of the water, and swallows, then nods, "Okay." He puts the water down. "Go for it."

Zaharis rolls to his feet with a gentle push from his hands on the arms of the chair, picking up his bag. He moves as quickly as promised, heading over to Reed's left side. "Going to touch your head," he tells the Major before he does so, peeling back the bandage. "Sparks, huh?" His hand's already in his bag, fishing out a few things.

Reed closes his eyes as the bandage comes off. "Weapons console blew. Wiring wasn't rated for an FTL jump. my frakking fault for having the Weapons people doing the work when they weren't briefed to make it FTL compatable." He opens his eyes, keeping his head still. "I thought.. I was dead. We jumped, and the fire alarms went off, and as I looked at the screens to read the alarms, the weapons console blew, flash of light, roar of explosion, sparks, and I thought.. this is it. I failed and my men and women who were so brave are going to die with me here and now. This is what death by molecular dissolution is going to feel like."

Zaharis listens as he works on the burn, using his index finger to smooth some kind of ointment over the reddened skin that instantly feels plesantly cold. He doesn't sound bothered by the topic. "Maybe. But not today. Today, biggest casualties…couple burns, maybe some hair turning white. That's it. Feel good about it?"

Reed smiles, though he doesn't nod, because, you know, Doctor poking him with liquid nitrogen or whatever. "Yeah, I do. It worked. And now, the ship is fully Jump active. We can jump with the same confidence as any other vessel with a Jumpdrive. We did it, and in a day or so, we'll be at full functionality. Just need to finish internal construction of bullshit areas and tighten everything down."

"Damn straight." Zaharis kind of mumbles that as his concentration's on the burn for a few moments. He does a few other things to Reed's skin with the various items in that medical mystery bag, then crumples up the old bandage and gets out some fresh gauze. "You know, not every man gets to have a day where they can sit back and go 'yeah, I really -did- something'. Congrats on getting one of yours, you deserved it." And there, he's done, even before that five minutes is up. He straightens up and grabs one of the napkins on the table to wipe ointment off his hands. "Burn's nothing. If it gets redder or starts hurting in earnest in the next day or two, have someone look at it. But it should be fine."

Reed blinks, waggles his brows, and touches the bandage, nodding, "Thank you, Doctor." He seems to be more like Reed now, the buzz seems to have left him. He looks up and nods, "I'll make sure nothing happens to make me any uglier. How's the Chief?"

"Bitching and whining, which means he's fine." Zaharis returns to his seat and picks up his scotch glass. "He'll be kicking around the deck again in a day or two. It's not going anywhere." A swallow of liquor. "Everything else we had was minor, so let me extend my thanks on behalf of Sickbay."

Reed shrugs, picking up the drumstick again. "Well, on behalf of everyone who's not hurt, you're welcome." He smirks, then takes a bite of chicken, chewing, and swallowing, "Tell me.." He gestures with the drumstick, "What'd it look like? I have a video coming, but that's a video."

Zaharis' expressive face lights up like he was tempted to laugh, his eyes flickering upwards as he recalls. "The PAS disappearing, or everyone reacting to the PAS disappearing? Because honestly, I don't know which one was better."

Reed grins widely, and shrugs, "Whichever you want to start with." He looks at his food, then to Zaharis. "You hungry? I can have something sent up. Eating in front of a guest, my mother would be appalled." He reaches to his side, putting a hand on his wireless handset by his desk.

Zaharis looks like he's about to refuse, then thinks better of it. "Ah…yeah, just something small. But not healthy, for the love of the gods." He's ready to storytell, and he pulls his cigarettes from his pocket while he talks, tossing them on the table. Sitting forward, he uses both hands to help him illustrate this. "So picture it, everyone's standing on the observation deck. It's pretty quiet, smells like meatball-on-a-stick up there, everyone's milling and schmoozing, all nicely dressed…crowd's murmuring, not really sure what's going to happen…"

Reed grins and lifts a finger, lifting the handset, and thinking a moment, "Half Meatball sandwich on a roll, with fries to my quarters." He then hangs up and leans in, nodding, "Go on."

Zaharis plucks a smoke from the pack, gesturing for Reed to do so as well if he wants to. Whether smoking's allowed in here, he completely forgets to ask as he's caught up in describing this. "So Regas gets on the horn and goes…" He brings his hands to his face, partially muffling his voice as he perfectly imitates Regas' deeper timbre. "CIC, Actual. Execute." Hands down. "Genesis starts turning and there's the PAS in this massive viewport, rings spinning…" His hands slowly spin round each other, presumably being the PAS. He grabs his lighter off the table and flicks it to life. "Everyone's watching and three Raptors goes zooming towards the PAS." He moves the lighter, flame lit, quickly to the side and then cuts it, flame vanishing. "Poof, they jump…"

Reed grins, apparently sober once more as he reaches to the side of his desk into drawer and slides an ashtray to Zaharis, to keep him from ashing his smoke out in the Majors 8-ball or something. He's listening raptly though, picturing it.

"So…" Zaharis pauses long enough to actually light the cigarette, setting the lighter down in Reed's reach. "…then Regas and you go back and forth a bit, the official stuff. Everyone's kind of looking around, you know, like 'what's going on?'. And then we saw the rings going…" He makes a humming sound that the PAS itself didn't actually make, being out in space, but it's better for the drama. Moving his slightly clawed hands like the station's rings separating to their ends. "And then flash red!" His finger zips to one side. "Flash blue!" Zip, back the other way. "And…" He takes a quick suck off the cigarette and makes a very light, quick puff into the air, the smoke escaping and vanishing. Letting it hang that way a second before he exhales the rest, spreading his hands palm up with a raised brow expression of mock-shock. "What the frak, where's the PAS?"

Reed chuckles, leaning back, taking the drumstick, if not a smoke, and chews on some of the meat, listening, "I bet people weren't expecting that shit."

"No!" Zaharis' voice is animated, though not loud. "Carter, I was looking around, and you wouldn't believe…-they- didn't believe. People were literally…I mean…" He turns his head in profile and does a perfect imitation of half the OBS deck, mouths hanging open and staring vacantly.

Reed bursts out laughing, dropping the drumstick, a cleaned bone to the tray, chuckling. He takes the noodle bowl as a knock comes from the door. "Come." He looks at the crewman, "In front of the Doctor please, Yesdic." The crewman places the tray with the food on it on the desk on Zaharis' side and leaves. "I told Rhea to have reece there, so he could see it."

Zaharis taps a finger against his forehead as the food's set down, taking a quick gulp of his scotch and gritting his teeth as it goes down. "Unfortunate name," he comments once the door's shut. "Oh, Reece saw it. His eyes were like this." He puts his fingers in big circles in front of his eyes. "Hah. And I think I heard Reighner go 'Good gods!'"

Reed nods, "He knew about StarSeed, but not about the FTL drive." He chuckles, then sighs, reaching for his scotch, and takes a healthy drink, setting the glass back down with a hiss of air, and picks up his fork to start working on the noodles. "Long two minutes?"

"Infinite." Zaharis shakes his head, tipping the glass up to finish off the rest of the scotch. It's brought a little colour to his face. "I don't think anyone breathed. Felt like I was surrounded by statues, all staring at the viewport and that timer going down…down…and then the two minutes passed and nothing happened. You could feel it, that…" He taps a palm against his chest like a quickened heartbeat that suddenly stops. "Like that. And suddenly, there she was again."

Reed nods, thinking as he takes a bite of the noodles, swallowing after chewing. "And then I start squawking for Damage Control teams, not the speech I had hoped for."

Zaharis smiles, setting his glass down so he can concentrate on the rest of the cigarette. "No, perhaps not. But people began clapping and cheering anyway, so hell with it."

Reed shrugs, nodding, "Fair enough." He sits forward, setting the noodles on the desk. "Well, I think my worst injury was my panache. But you know, it was really something. And now, it's going to get boring." He sighs, "I'm out of creepy secrets, doctor."

Zaharis laughs, reaching forward to crush the spent cigarette. He picks up the scotch bottle, pouring another two fingers of liquor, and then sits forward to get into his french fries. "Nobody's ever out of creepy secrets. Nobody. They're just not all colony-sanctioned. And stop calling me doctor, I left official outside."

Reed sniffs, smirking and takes his scotch, taking a pull from it, and sighs setting it back down, "It's a habit, I call people by their last names or titles till they ask me to stop." He thinks, "And I don't think I have any real 'Wow everyone' secrets off hand. Least nothing like today. nothing comes to mind."

"Last name is fine. But I'm not sober enough to see patients, so you leave the doctor off for now." Zaharis smirks, taking down another french fry or two and then picking up his glass. He laughs a bit and shrugs. "Not dead yet, plenty of time to rack up a couple more if you really think you're out. Life does weird shit to people. Like I really have to tell you."

Reed nods, "Yeah, that's true." He considers, then picks up his noodle bowl, taking the fork. "I still can't believe what happened to the Chief. He was looking at that damned weapons console, and it was like he challenged it to single combat, and went after it like it owed him money, and shot his dog."

"Nasty buggers," Zaharis whistles lowly, shaking his head. "Don't want to get caught banging a weapons console's wife, oh boy."

Reed nods, "I guess not, but.. Man, the chief is serious about getting things fixed. or something, I mean frak, we can rebuild or replace the weapons console, he didn't have to dive into hot wires to his elbows." He shakes his head slightly, reaching to his glass, then to the bottle pouring more scotch, and lifting the bottle, "Oh, how's it pass? Single malt, eighteen years. Part of the CO's private stock."

"Chief's hardcore. Type that doesn't learn his lesson." Zaharis doesn't sound all that disapproving. He gives the scotch an appreciative nod. "It's good. Very good. Definitely a scotch worthy of your paygrade." He raises the glass a bit, across the table. "So come on, you have to give a toast or something, here."

Reed sets down the bottle, and lifts the glass, thinking for a moment. Then with a still waters running deep kind of strength in his voice. "The PAS. Her maiden voyage, there and back, and she came through. From here, she only gets better." He drinks, deep.

"So say we all." Zaharis follows suit, draining the rest of his glass. He pushes the tumbler aside for now, having downed quite a hefty bit of liquor in a short time. His face is lightly flushed, but other than that there's no sign he's drunk so much. "Not like it's the end of things, you know. So the secret's out, but now you get watch this baby crawl and walk and all those other cheesy baby analogies that people throw around. You know what I mean."

Reed laughs at Zaharis, "Rhea told you, didn't she?" He laughs more, setting his glass down, taking the bottle, and adding more generious amounts to both glasse,s "I asked her if this was what it was like after childbirth, having this creation you're in awe of and.. a few other things, the only feeling I could grasp for was having a child."

"Oh, gods." Zaharis presses his palm against this forehead, raking his fingers back through his hair. "No, she didn't tell me that! But I knew I was getting it from somewhere…man, see what happens when you're friends with people who have kids? It just gets all over you like fungus. Good fungus. Usually."

Reed nods, lifting his glass, "Reece Zimmerman, the good fungus." He offers that toast with a grin. Actually an appreciative one, he likes the kid.

Zaharis' glass is empty, but now having excuse to refill it, he promptly does so. He raises the glass again for the toast. "To fungus. Haha." He actually does laugh with those distinct syllables. "You know I bet he'd like knowing he was being called that, too."

Reed salutes with the glass and takes a deep drink, then sets it down. the burn is mellowing now, or their taste buds are dying, one or the other. "Most likely, yeah. Twelve. what an age to be. Everything's go go and girls are just starting to get that.. you know, there's something about them."

Zaharis makes an exaggerated face, reaching for the cigarette pack. His fingers knock them away by accident before he pays attention to where they really are, and pulls one out. "Yeah, really. Last time you can really get away with anything that doesn't involve a police citation. Those were the days."

Reed chuckles, "Aww, well, as long as you didn't get caught doing it you were still okay." He sits back, "Frak, I made explosives at fourteen, never got nicked."

"Did you?" Zaharis lights the cigarette and tosses the lighter back on the table. He exhales out of the corner of his mouth as he looks at Reed, eyes slightly narrowed before he grins. "Yeah, I can see that. You're not as innocent as you look."

Reed points at Zaharis, "Hey, hey, he deserved it. Bully at school, big, ugly frakker, pushed around the kids weaker than him. and I was.." He points at himself, nodding, "Well, ME, and so I put together a simple nitrogen based concussive, planted it at his mail posting, and when he went out to check for his acceptance notification for the Pyramid team, BAWHOOSH!" he gestures upwards. "On his ass scared shitless."

Zaharis was in the middle of trying to drink again, and nearly chokes as he starts laughing. He coughs vigorously before he can talk again, eyes watering a little. "Seriously? Hah." He sips a little scotch to calm his throat and picks his cigarette back up. "High school. The time to blossom, or whatever shit." He smirks quite a bit, taking a drag off the cigarette. "Were you one of the types that liked school?"

Reed nods, "Seriously. And yeah I loved school. High school really helped form my love of schooling. Mostly from that bullys reaction to getting his mail posting blown up. He was in absolute awe of me. Stopped pushing the kids around, suddenly seeing that they could be a serious threat." He lifts his glass, "I still to this day credit that bomb for Pieter Gaelans love of things that go boom."

Zaharis laughs, after exhaling a drift of smoke. "Solid relationship, I got to say. Two of you met in high school, then?"

Reed nods, "Mmm, yeah. After that, and the fact that he and I started hanging out, I knew I had to keep on the study. Keep myself parsecs ahead of him in my studies." He takes a drink, "He went Marines, which I was like, DUH, right? And I went Naval Sciences. Again, DUH."

"Duh." Zaharis echoes, in similar tone. Which he seems to find amusing, grinning again. "People and their paths, huh? Seems like a good guy though, Gaelan." Smoke curling up from his hand he bobs his finger at Reed. "Wouldn't have pegged you two for friends if I hadn't seen it myself."

Reed chuckles, nodding, "No one would have. We get leaves, head out to somewhere, and it's the opposite kind of friendship no one imagines. He hits on a woman, she tries to play him for an idiot, I step in and hit the conversation. A woman I'm talking to is just flat uninterested, he comes in, talks to me, and she's all kinds of looking for an in with the beefcake." He taps his temple, then regrets it, "Ow, frak wrong side. Anyway, tactics during leave."

Zaharis smokes as Reed talks. "Tactical friendships, I dig it. The odd couple thing going on, balance and all that." His hands make an expressive motion that's supposed to be illustrating his thoughts. "Looks unlikely but you understand each other at the end of the day, right?"

Reed nods, "We've spent enough time together, that we pretty much know what the other one's going to say or what take they're going to get off a situation. We surprise one another though." He takes a drink. "But that's friendship too."

"Alright…" Zaharis is readying a challenge, from the look on his face. He stubs out the cigarette and retrieves his glass, the puddle of scotch sloshing at the bottom. "One time you surprised a marine like Gaelan. Go."

Reed quirks a brow, "Marine like Gaelan, or Gaelan?" He waves a hand, "No, nevermind. I got it. Reba Sciomater. Gorgeous meteorologist, Ensign. We were in different departments, and hadn't really seen each other in anything but lab coats and working outfits. Gaelan comes over and drags me out with his buddies for drinking. Marine officers and me. The Marines were all completely thrown off by me, but as the ambrosia flowed they got jocular, and a few of them managed to get some of the local ladies interested. And through the evolutionary process, I had nothing. The Marines didn't really like this and were trying to get me hooked up, I finally just said, "Okay, look I can do this on my own." Like they believed me, it was a pity party. I see Reba, and went, oh, here we go. I get up, go to her, and say hello. She turns around wearing this amazing outfit. and she looked like Aphrodite dropped her straight down. I ask her to join me, and she's ready. I start to the table, and before I can make introductions she stops me and just asks me, in front of all the Marines if instead we could go back to my place, or, and I quote 'Or Anywhere Closer With A Bed.' Well, I look at the Marines, say, 'Well, bye guys' And leave with her. They were completely silent, florred, my total time in that bar talking with her, less than a minute."

Zaharis listens to this whole thing as he steadily drains the scotch puddle in his tumbler. At the end his dark brows lift, slowly, and he suddenly laughs, loudly. "Really? -You- said that?" Another laugh, happily rather than -at- Reed. "Well go you. I never would've seen that come out of your mouth, Carter! I mean aside from the fact that you can't see words…not being literal here. Couldn't see it!"

Reed spreads his hands, "What can I say? the moment was right, and I took it." He thinks, "And so did she. Wow. The quiet ones."

Zaharis chuckles quietly, finishing off the bit of scotch. He sets the glass down somewhat perilously on the table, pushing it away from the edge with his fingertip. "Don't even have to ask if it was worth it. So what happened to Miss Bombshell, you see her again after that?"

Reed downs the dregs of his glass, and nods, reaching for the bottle, "For a while. She was wild, but then she got a transfer." He popurs into his glass, then pauses, "Aquaria, I think." He leans over, adding to Zaharis' glass as well. "We knew it was over, had a last fun time and parted. Haven't seen her since. Still have her contact information though, might not call, she never did and I'm confident we're both fine with that."

Zaharis watches the liquor flow and picks the glass back up, settling back and pulling one ankle up over the other knee. "Yeah, happens. No big, everybody's transient. Got to take things as they come, you know. And people as they…you know, come." He smirks.

Reed smirks, nodding, "I'll go along with that." He takes his glass, and drinks. "I've had my intransient relationship." He looks at Zaharis, "Think I mentioned it before." He takes another hard hit off his glass, seeming completely indifferent to the burn now. "Wasn't as perminant as I thought it would be."

"Mentioned it, yeah." Zaharis nods once, a slow nod that's less thoughtful than well on the way to drunk. "Didn't finish the story. But I don't want to be all up in someone's business, so." He smiles a little.

Reed nods, "Yeah, well, you were curious." He smirks. "Real good way to up your pain tolerance? I don't know if it's Medically sound or not. Propose to a girl, have her accept, and a week later? She's killed when a hoverbus collides with an errant nav marker and crashes." He upends the glass, draining it, and setting it on the table. "After that, pain don't hurt."

Zaharis listens, still able to do that surprising well considering the amount of scotch. "Ah. Sorry to hear that, Carter." A brief pause. "What was her name?"

Reed takes a breath, "Kelly. Kelly Magoon. Pieter was on deployment when it happened. I told him we broke up. I was telling MYSELF we broke up, trying to believe it, trying to get through it." He smirks, "I confessed what really happened this morning before the jump. Settling accounts I guess."

Zaharis only smiles a little. "Did it feel like it worked?"

Reed looks at Zaharis, "Settling accounts? steeling myself for throwing the switch that might kill me?" He nods, "Yeah, it did. I felt pretty good, I was nervous, you know, jazzed, the moment I was waiting for for a year was on me and I was ready to roll the dice." He laughs, "And it worked." He lets his head fall back in the chair, and groans, "Whoa, yeah, headrush there."

Zaharis might've been about to say something serious, but Reed's last statement has him suddenly in laughter again, the kind that gets out of your nose whether you want it to or not. "Should put that shit down…" he gestures with one finger to Reed's glass, still laughing. "That burn'll feel like a massage next to your hangover tomorrow."

Reed smiles, lifting his head, "Yeah, true, but you know, I've been good for a long time, I deserve this." He still places the glass carefully on the desk. "What is the medical secret against hangovers?"

"Hasn't changed for a couple hundred years," Zaharis smirks. "Shitload of water, couple aspirin, and your doorbell turned off." He reaches down, grabbing the strap of his bag a bit awkwardly. Digging through it, he comes up with two blister packs of garden variety painkillers and tosses them on the table. "There, got you covered." He presses his foot against the floor starting to sit up, and abruptly sucks an involuntary breath in through his teeth, his hand jerking to his right calf to press the thumb against it.

Reed sits up, looking at the pills and smiles, "Hey, thanks, it-" He stops, looking to Zaharis, frowning, blinking as he focuses, "What is it?" He looks at the mans leg like it might try to bite.

"Nothing." The word comes out a split second too fast. Zaharis pulls his hand away and sits up, scratching his ear instead. He makes a lazy gesture to the meds. "That ought to hold you. Won't hurt you, I looked at your allergies chart before I came over. Suspected you might need them." He grins then. "I ought to let you get some sleep, huh? Or at least finish that cake in peace."

Reed looks at Zaharis for a moment, then, "Felgercarb." He says flatly, and blinks, "But okay. You didn't pry, I won't." He looks at the pills and nods, "Yeah, I think I'll not chance anymore food, or it'll come back on me." He takes his water bottle, and eyes Zaharis, speculatively.

Zaharis just smiles. He picks up his glass and lifts it a bit. "To the PAS." Draining the last swallow, he rolls to his feet and leans down to snag the strap of the bag, pulling it over his head. A loud exhale attests to the slight tilt of the room. "Good shit, Carter. Thanks. Get some rest, doctor's orders." Chair's nudged back with his foot and he heads for the door. Carefully balanced.

Reed smiles as he watches Zaharis leave. "You're an old pro at navigating to your bunk aren't you? Okay, Zaharis, I'll see what's left of you in the morning. Pass out well."

"I am so good at navigating…" Zaharis turns back to level a finger at Reed. "I should've been frakkin CIC." He raises a fist in triumph and then he's gone, leaving the half-eaten plate of food and ashtray of spent cigarettes behind.

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