Long Day's Work
Long Day's Work
Summary: More talking about that damn directive. Salin, Rhea, Reed, and Zaharis come to some conclusions.
Date: 47 ACH
Related Logs: Directives, etc.

JAG Office Genesis - Deck 11
46 ACH 6285 Souls

The office of the Judge Advocate General is a normal office room in appearance, with a pair of desks and a bookshelf in one corner containing legal texts and reference materials. Each desk has a computer terminal on it and built in set of drawers. Across from each desk is a pair of chairs for interviewees to be seated. Also along part of the back wall are a row of grey, metal filing cabinets.

Zaharis gets down to the JAG office, in off-duties. This may take alcohol to get through, and in-uniform is no way to accomplish that. He heads for Salin's desk, carrying his folders.

Rhea clomps into the JAG Office, fresh from Engineering. She's washed her hands, at least, but her uniform is still streaked with grease and engine refuse. There's even a streak of black grease on her forehead. She pays it no mind. If anything, she looks more relaxed like that than she has during her previous appearances in this office. "Sorry if I'm late. Just got off duty. Amazing how refreshing rewiring a generator feels compared to…well. This. Pour me a drink, my good JAG."

Salin is seated behind his desk, clad in his off-duties and looking rather relax. He's leaned back in his chair and he's got his feet placed up on the desk, hands clasped lightly over his chest. There's a smoke between his lips and he seems to be puffing lightly on it. As people begin to arrive, he turns his head and lets his feet slide from the desk so he can slide the chair forward to pour the required drinks, "Ask, and you shall be served."

Zaharis quirks a brow at the smoking. "JAGman, well well. I like you more every time I see you, and I've never said that about a lawyer before." He digs his smokes out of his pocket and sits, grabbing up one of the glasses. The folder's set down, looking ominous. "Cheers." Glass gets raised to both of them. "So how goes the drafting of this thing?"

Oh, look! A convinent ashtray on the desk is made use of as Salin lifts a hand to extract the smoke from between his lips, tapping off the ash quickly before flashing a smirk to Zaharis. His own glass is lifted upwards, but he doesn't respond immediately, for he's moving it to his lips to take a sip. That done, it's lowered back down so that a soft grunt can be offered, "Draft goes well. Spoke to Fotilas about the idea. Lets just say that he and I got in a pissing match."

Rhea snorts as the menfolk bond over smoking. She doesn't ask for a light. It might send her up in flames. She does take a seat, and a drink, easing into a chair. She doesn't start sipping right away but just swirls the glass. Unwinding some. Her brows arch at Salin as to that. "Really? I got the impression the XO wasn't any happier, personally, about this than most of the rest of us. Though he has a face has to present to command. I grok that." Upon reflection. The grokking likely wasn't instantaneous.

"So you said." Zaharis settles in with his own pack and grabs a lighter. Careful not to accidentally get too close to Rhea with the flame. "Had a couple words with him after you did, like I said in that memo. Honestly I'm not even sure why we're fighting like this." He puffs on the cig and picks up the folder. "So Fotilas gave me this. Everything he thinks Regas will froth over, concerning all this. I think it's worth it to look at. Just, you know. So we're ready in case he does, really, froth over it." He glances at the two of them. "Was Carter gonna come?"

Turning his attention to Rhea, Salin gives a quick nod of his head, "Long story. The short version is I had Fotilas all worked up and he had me all worked up and nothing got solved. The one thing, though, is he didn't want a garrison on the Carina. Said it served no purpose." He's looking back over towards Zaharis, a brow arching upwards slightly, "Ooh, you managed to work things out a little better with him? I couldn't even get him to settle down into a conversation of alternatives. Just a big no and no to draining the lake and a garrison."

"Because the entire situation is stupid?" Rhea suggests, as to the fighting. "People fight about stupid things. The important ones are usually taken seriously enough to make folks act like adults." She sips her drink. Briefly abashed. "Sorry. We were going to avoid snarking. Right. And we might get some good work done out of it, despite the idiocy that prompted it." She cranes her neck around toward Zaharis' folder. "Well, nothing's set in stone yet. But I don't think he's seeing all the benefits of the garrison." As to Carter, she shrugs. Straightening. "I'll page him. Might take him a bit. He's still not up to jogging speed."

[Genesis] Rhea says, "Major Carter to the JAG Office, please. Major Carter to the JAG Office."

Someone is knocking at the door.

Zaharis ignores Rhea's sarcasm. His voice is calm, and he nods to Salin. "A little better. I didn't work anything out, per se. Just listened to him and wrote down what he said. And I feel I should make something clear on his behalf, to be fair to him. What he gave me were things he feels that Regas will oppose, not necessarily Fotilas. So I am not going to make any of this personal because frankly, it may prove helpful to us. If there are personal issues between any of you, work it out personally. This is a project." He turns his head and calls out, for Salin. "Yo."

Reed comes in from Navy Offices.
Reed has arrived.

Reed enters the JAG office, in his off duties, carrying his cane, breathing deep and even, hair slightly mussed, but with a sharpness to his expression. Alert. "You rang?" He calls as he steps in.

Drinks are abound and there seems to be spare glasses on a small cabinet off to the side of the desks. At the moment, Salin, Rhea and Zaharis are all sitting around, gabbing and nursing a drink, with the first and latter nursing smokes as well. There's a quick nod of Salin's head before he's chuckling softly, "I imagine Regas is going to froth at any suggestion that's made. That's the nature of being the Commander." The knock has him turning his head to the door and as Reed enters, Salin lifts a hand, motioning to first a glass and then to a chair, "Welcome to my humble abode. Your server for this evening is JAGMan. Unfortunately, the only thing we stock is whiskey, so you don't really get a choice."

Rhea is curled up in one of Salin's office chairs. All of sweat and grease, fresh off her Engineering shift. She looks a happier creature for it, though. And at least she's washed her hands. "I'm done taking this personally. I don't think it got me much of anywhere," she replies to Zaharis. A quick smile and inclination of her head to Reed. "It'll likely be highly useful. What's the XO think'll get the commander riled?"

Zaharis rubs the bridge of his nose, taking a drag off his cigarette as he flips through papers. "Okay, so. Point one that Fotilas made, partially in his words." the CMO starts reading from his Fotilas-notes. "Stop-loss. Having female officers and enlisted off-ship for seven to eight months - if not more - will be disasterous. Even if they can do certain jobs from the Carina, what happens when we jump away to engage? We lose them." zaharis holds up his hand, two fingers. "Point two. The garrison. You plan to set-up job postings on the Carina which is great. But what about the Deck Hands? Rhea's snipes? Weps crew? People that cannot do their jobs from remote locations and whose jobs are vital to our operations." He looks up from the papers. "Not done yet, but I'll stop there so we can figure out how to refute this. "Because yeah, I can see Regas going off on it."

Reed looks to Salin, nodding his head, "Yeah, no choice at all. I'm not cleared to process alcohol at all yet." He looks to Rhea, smiling as he sees the state of her. He then looks to Zaharis, still at the door, listening. He purses his lips, "Initiate a program of cross training for Action Station Positions. There are people holding ASPs, and people who do not hold them. Drawing up the logistical positions will be a lot of work." He starts moving to the chair indicated, "However, once the program is in place, there will be leeway in that program to allow a pregnant crewmember to have their position focused on, to have a replacement trained in time to take their place once they are pulled off the line." He settles into the chair, "Assuming you're not going to pull someone the instant the metaphorical rabbit dies, that gives a timeframe for training measured in months."

Salin gives a faint cringe, followed by a shake of his head, "No alcohol? Ungh." A sidelong look is offered to Zaharis, "Close your eyes, Jesse. Let go of your inner doctor for a couple of moments." The words are given with a smile and then he's falling quiet, offering a soft 'hrmm' before nodding his head, "Didn't think of cross training non ASPs. I did mention that those posted to the Garrison, such as Snipes, could be in training positions, though. Something along the same sort of lines." His glass lifts upwards, another quick sip taken, "Probably the best idea for this that I've heard yet."

"I wasn't thinking of the garrison in quite that separate a manner, honestly," Rhea says. "More of a satellite office. Though you might disagree, Doctor. Early on, at least, a decker or a snipe or a weps could pull a shift on the Genesis then shuttle back to housing on the Carina. A reduced shift, likely, but I think it's a compromise that's worth considering. And, honestly, there's crap my snipes need to do on the Carina anyway. Maintenance and the like. No reason those duties can't be put on whoever's plopped over there. I could transfer my Maintenance and Materials inventory duties there without too many problems. Training, too. A lot of that is desk work. Doesn't really matter where it's done. Though stuff like that should be left to the department heads themselves to work out. All due respect, Salin, I know how a snipe works better than you. Or the XO, for that matter. Same goes for the Weps, and so on. These hypothetical personnel'd have to be shifted to desk work eventually anyway, on the Genny or wherever. And again. I must say. It's not like there's this plague of pregnancies. We're not talking about off-loading even a dozen crew. Not more than one, unless there's something in the water nobody's told me about."

"Don't look at me," Zaharis tells Salin, raising his hands. "Wasn't my order, I'm not Carter's primary anymore." He rubs his forehead, scribbling on his papers as everyone TALKS UP A STORM. "I agree with Rhea. We have strength in the sheer fact that there aren't going to be this huge exodus of personnel. I think the fact that we're talking about a whole garrison is scaring command into thinking this is bigger than it's really going to be. And I think in the proposal we need to stress that. Seriously." He also nods to Reed at that idea there.

Reed nods, "Well, if there's one thing I think it might be necessary to point up to selling the cross training idea to command it's this." He shifts in the chair, falling silent as he plants his cane, and gets comfortable, deliberately leaving that sentence hanging to make sure it's placed in the proper attention.
"The Cross Training Program is not solely for the problem of pregnancy." He looks to each of them, "But to replace casualties whos positions are going to be missed on the line. We've all seen too much death to not believe that there's going to be more."

There's a quick smile to Rhea and Salin gives a nod, "Wouldn't question that at all. Was just an example. Applies to anyone who's relegated to desk duty." There's a look to Zaharis and then to Reed and a simple nod is given. "Oh, that reminds me." The smoke is discarded in the ashtray and the drink is set aside so he can rummage through some papers on his desk. And by rummage, he's flitting through them and tossing them down to the floor until he finds what he's looking for, "Pietr has his S2 working with JAG to evaluate a Civilian Police Force. Until such time as it's deemed acceptable, there's going to be MP's pulling shifts on the Carina, which means a regular rotation of people there. Another example of why this location could be useful." He pauses a moment, leaning back in his chair, "Fotilas seemed to think that even losing one crew member from a department, to rest on the Carina, would be unacceptable. Said we were too understaffed as it is."

Rhea watches Reed adjust himself in the chair. With some concern. Not that she's alarmed or anything, but some fretting over his comfort level is evident. Not that she calls attention to it. A shrug to Salin. "Honestly, I think half the problem with this thing is that it's turning into a series of pissing contests. To use your words, Salin. We put this to command straight and sensible, subject to their input, I think it'll go over better. We *are* understaffed, but we've got troops doing work and sharing resources with the Carina anyway. This wouldn't change that. Might make it easier, as they'd have a proper office available."

Zaharis nods to Salin. "That's exactly their argument." He looks over at Rhea and bites back an exhale, rubbing his temple. "We're trying not to make it a pissing contest, Rhea. Let's just…try and stay on the arguments. I agree with what's been said. I think Carter's proposal needs to be added in, along with a realistic expectation of workforce loss. Which is much smaller than I think command believes. When they see some hard numbers it'll make it easier to swallow. Should I go on to next point or is there any more to say about this one?"

Reed frowns slightly, drawing the handle of his cane to his face, lacing his fingers on the handle, and placing his nose on his laced fingers, watching Salin, Rhea and Zaharis, brow slightly furrowed.

A hand extends, claiming the smoke from the ashtray so that it can be lifted to Salin's lips for a long haul. Lowering it, he exhales slowly before giving a nod of his head, "No, I'm settled on that point. Think Carter's idea and the showing of realistic numbers will be our best bet." He paues, settling his gaze back on Zaharis, "What's the next point? They get any easier or did you start with the easy ones?"

"I'm good," Rhea says, sipping at her drink. Nursing it rather than pounding. She's more on thinking than drinking. "Go on, Jesse."

Reed says, "Stop." He shakes his head, "I have a question. Is this how all the meetings have gone thusfar?"

Zaharis makes a motion at Salin and Rhea, since he's still getting down all these notes. They can answer that question.

Turning his attention towards Reed, Salin gives a slight shake of his head, "No … this one actually is going a little smoother then the previous ones did."

Rhea smirks. "I think we've actually calmed down considerably, come to it. Can't say it's been one of my smoother endeavors. But the things I work with usually don't tend to argue with me."

Reed looks at Salin, eyes widening slightly, and he blinks. "Frak, that's not good." He levers himself up, then looks to Zaharis, "Finish your notes so far then stop." He looks around, "There are Three, now, Four combined centers of debate, throwing shit around helter skelter, tossing ideas, problems and possible solutions, and the like around and the only focus to it is what the Doctor here writes all cramped." He points to Salin, "Mind if I borrow one of your paralegals or whoever those people are, henchmen, whatever for a moment before we continue?"

Zaharis' pen stops and he taps it against the page. The slight feeling of insult that flickers across his face is unmistakeable, but he says nothing at all.

Salin gives a soft chuckle at Rhea's comment and he's nodding in agreement. Turning his attention back to Reed, he listens and then he's giving another nod of his head before motioning towards the door, "My arsenal of paper pushers are at your disposal."

Rhea snorts, also not taking that well. But she doesn't argue. She looks as if she can't really disagree. She waits for the paper pushers to position themselves. For paralegalling.

Reed nods, turning and calling out the door, after a moments consult, they rush off. After a couple more moments, they come back, Reed is handed a large black marker, and then a bottle of water. Then he's handed a large three foot by four foot whiteboard, which he takes, and closes the door with a nod, then moves back into the office, propping the board up on the chair he was sitting at and sliding the chair to be in front of the row of filing cabinets. "Okay, let's try this." He uncaps the pen and starts writing, "Fotilas's problems, Staffing." He writes that, and draws a line, "Proposed answer, cross training." He writes that. "Now, more detailed notes we're going to need, but we can keep the board as a focus." He looks at the Mustangs, "Academy trick."

"Yes, thank the gods they had the Academy to teach us apes how to read and write," Zaharis says, not hiding the sarcasm.

A piece of blank paper is crumpled up and Salin raises his hand to launch the mock warefare device at Zaharis, "Medical Man will remain quiet for the moment. Let's see where Carter is going with this." He does look back over towards Reed, a brow arching upwards slightly.

"I've very nearly learned to use proper grammar and avoid scratching myself when giving orders," Rhea quips to Zaharis. Sarcasm-ing in tandem. She clears her throat. Constructive. Right. "I'm all for a little more organization. No need to inject more nonsense into this matter than exists in it naturally." She's quiet now. Really. A little more drinking is done.

Reed nods, making a little, gesture, as if saying, 'Yes, the REMF are used to the comments about the Academy.' Then he points at Zaharis, "Okay, let's have the problems, the whole list." He writes a little, '2' on the board.

Zaharis smirks at Rhea. He picks up the crumpled ball and tosses it back at Salin with a slight smirk there too. Then he looks back at Reed and says, quite seriously, "You could try to be a /little/ less patronising, Carter. Don't point at me. I am not a damn dog." His eyes stay locked on Reed for a second before he picks his folder back up. "First umbrella is under Stop loss. One-A, Length of time personnel would be lost, believing a second trimester pull-out to light duty is too early. Two-A, Losing the manpower of those garrisonned when we jump away. Three-A, training replacements would be inadequate, particularly for officers. Second umbrella is Fotilas' concern that Regas will reject the proposal altogether because it doesn't satisfy the "morality" component." He makes airquotes there. "To which the XO thinks it's not going to be enough to point out that command has no business enforcing morality." There's more on the sheet, but he pauses.

Nothing is said at the moment and Salin merely shifts his attention from Zaharis, over towards Reed, watching as the items are written down on his trusty white board, "So. That's all of the problems, then?"

Rhea makes a short "Hmph" sound of agreement at Zaharis' light smack of Reed. But she focuses on the particulars. "I'm not going to argue with you about medical matters, Jesse, and the XO won't either, if you push him. But I do think avoiding hard-and-fast rules about when somebody gets pulled off-duty is best. If you'll allow me to be female for a moment. I think a lot of this needs to be left between the woman, her doctor and - a distant third - her CO. I'm not even going to touch the morality point. The fact that command is sticking its nose into that gets my hackles up. But, like I said. Trying not to take this personal anymore." Trying. It's still an effort.

Reed looks at Zaharis, and Rhea as they agree on his being an ass. Water off a ducks back. He then starts writing, and finally, steps back, "Okay." He looks to Zaharis, "Is this, in your opinion, a descent representation of where we are now?"

Zaharis focuses on Rhea as she talks. "No, it's not hard and fast. That'd be sort of like saying one's eighteenth birthday is automatic maturity, and we all know that ain't true. Not everyone will need to be put on light duty at the exact same point. At the same time, if we were not at war and talking about being on a combat ship I would be a lot more lenient. Point being I honestly think even if someone lost a month, command would scream. Nobody's given up an acceptable length of time, they've just said 'loss'. At all." He looks back at the board. "That's fine. There was more said but it was just clarification."

Looking back and forth between the group, Salin motion towards the white board and gives a slight shake of his head, "Two A. Legal Issues. Woman's rights relating to pregnancy are protected under the Articles of Medicine as well as several subsections within military law. It's a minor detail, but a detail none-the-less."

"Well, a pilot physically can't fly a combat mission when she's nine months along. A snipe can't do EVA work or strap into an elevated harness on the hangar deck, either. There's going to be some 'loss,' even if Regas and Fotilas aren't quite capable of understanding the physical realities of it," Rhea says. "I think tapping them with actual numbers will help in that, too. This seems like more of their 'every woman is going to magically become pregnant' paranoia. I'd venture most of us have *no* wish to. I sure as frak don't." She nods shortly to Salin. "Not so minor, to my view."

Reed points the marker at Salin, "That's not from Command, so it's a seperate set of problems, let's try this." He starts writing, making a new heading under Fots Problems, as he writes subsection 1 he mutters, "Saaaalin.." Under two, he writes, "Zaaahaaaris.." under three, he writes, "Rheeeeaaa" And under four, he writes, "Nuuuumbers…"

Zaharis can't help a slight smile at Rhea. Really, the 'OMG T3H BABIEZ' notion is kind of amusing.

There's a nod towards Rhea and Salin gives a slight smile, "Sorry, didn't mean to imply that it was a minor issue to the female population." He's looking back to Reed, nodding his head once more and then looking back towards the board.

"The male population, too, or at least it should be," Rhea replies to Salin. "If a man's not a complete horse's ass he'll want to have some say in a decision like this. Commander's taking away any rights a father might have, too, with this little edict of his." Her eyes brows arch at Zaharis. *Arch*. She is sees not what amuses me. Her attention goes to the board.

Reed caps the pen and turns to the others, gesturing to the white board, "Okay, who's first to make points about the board? This second section is what he have problems with, or need for a presentation to Command."

Zaharis rubs the side of his forehead. "Fotilas seemed to think that Regas' moral compass, as he put it, won't accept anything that doesn't fall under his idea of an image of morality. It is not something Regas can enforce, legally…as Salin has showed us. I'm not sure what to say on this, as it feels like it's a complete impasse."

Reading over the contents on the board, Salin hrrms softly and gives his head a slight shake, "I really can't speak to much of anything there, beyond the legal implications. Which, are far greater for a woman, then for a man." He's pausing, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands together in his lap, "I gathered from Fotilas that Command will do anything and everything, though, to keep a woman who is pregnant, at her station, regardless. So, we're going to need to show them, medically, ethically, legally and compassionately, why this isn't exactly a good idea." A pause and he's looking towards Reed, "Carter, you were in a similiar position to Regas. What's your thoughts on this whole thing?"

"Any 'moral' orders Regas tries to give us, especially about who we have to marry or some nonsense, are outside his authority and probably illegal." Rhea looks to Salin. "Probably. Frak it. I'm no lawyer. But the commander has to see that. Maybe he was just pissed off. Went off without thinking. He'll back off that it we don't shove him too hard. He has to. He's an officer. He knows how this works, even in war." Her brows arch at Reed. Curious to hear his answer to that. Very, very curious.

Reed looks at Zaharis, and nods, then looks to Salin. He inclines his head directly, "Back to Basics question. Good. This edict is a frakking joke. All my time since the Colony worlds were destroyed, Regas has had one simple underlying push. To not let us fall idle. Keep people busy, keep them working. He's said that to me when I was CO of the PAS, I don't know how many times. This edict is a piece of shit, floating in a toilet that won't flush, it's something to fix." He looks to Rhea, "I'm still Command staff." He looks to Zaharis. "Facts are Facts. Those we can refute, or work around. Morality?" He shakes his head, "Morality has to be taken in the broad stroke. The hard line on the moral issue from a Command point of view, expressed in a way that Regas won't like is no little Leonis boy dictates the moral stance of a whole fleet. There are eleven other colonies represented here and each has their own moral code. Enforcing anything on them all is idiocy. We're officers, You're department heads. You make hard choices, you have the power over life and death and you make those choices, even when it tears your souls to do so. So does he." He turns, and writes on the board. "This is my problem with this edict. Facing it as if it were not an exercize in kicking people in the ass to make sure they're going to do something as a Military Structure." He then backs off, capping the pen.

"That's what I said to Fotilas," Zaharis remarks a little tiredly, as to the first part of what Reed said. "That it just seemed too ridiculous to be anything other than something to shut up the pettiness and give us something to do. He thinks I'm crazy. Hell I'm starting I'm crazy considering all the fighting it's spawned in its wake." He smirks faintly.

There's a pause and Salin gives a slight nod towards Reed, "Thanks. That's what I thought." There's a pause and Salin is leaning forward, settling his hands on his desk as his gaze shifts between the three, "What I say next, stays here, obviously." He pauses and then continues, "When I spoke to Fotilas, he indicated that he told Regas he couldn't do that. And, apparently, the Commander didn't really care. So, we're going to need to keep in mind that apparently the Commander is issuing orders that he knows he can't do. Which, might make this whole presentation difficult."

"So, what? This is some kind of test?" Rhea snorts. "Frakking crazy way to go about it, if you ask me. I, for one, have much better things to occupy my time than writing memos about reproductive organs. And it's getting people more riled up, not less. When my officers come to me and ask about pregnancy directives instead of engines, I see that as a manufactured problem. What do you propose, then? Getting together and calling 'bullshit' on the commander." She smirks. "Frak, I'm game."

Reed folds his arms, letting his head fall to his chest, "Hang on, hang on. Let me point something out." He looks at Zaharis, "That's what I said to Fotilas." He looks to Salin, "When I spoke to Fotilas." He looks around the room, "What makes you think, Fotilas isn't getting tested as well? Fotilas hasn't exactly been the XO forever and a day." He looks to Rhea, "No, it's a problem, but it's a problem that Regas can just snap his fingers and remove, just like that. There is nothing about this, that Regas cannot call a meeting, and give a lecture about the failing of officers to call him on his judgement when it's clearly faulty, and fix. All he needs to do is wear down his teeth a little on some ass and it's the department heads problem to fix the morale of their people. It's not a good exercize of the principle, because it causes strife and ill will. But it also." He looks around, "Is an Academy Trick."

There's a smirk at Rhea and Salin gives a shake of his head, "Be glad you're just getting questions. I've getting those, plus marriage proposals as a result of that particular directive." Hands unfold and he's looking back to Reed, shaking his head, "That won't work now. Regas was already called on it and JAG had to take down the notices, since he made no move to do it. And, apparently, Fotilas called him on it and it still went up. So, that's two. But, that's outside the scope of the main problem and something to keep in the back of the mind when fleshing out each problem." There's a soft beeping from something buried beneath papers and Salin frowns, shuffling things around until he reveals his handheld. Reading, he grunts softly, "I'm afraid I need to attend to something. Continue, without me, and my staff is here if you need them."

"I think plenty have called him on it," Zaharis lifts his chin towards Salin and Rhea. "Else those notices would still be up. Listen, we've established — far as I can see — that this plan for the garrison will strengthen our morale. It's what we need to do, it will focus forces. This is the good that's come from it. These issues in Umbrella one can be addressed with numbers. As for Umbrella two. If we /are/ together on believing that this is just a metric fraktonne of bullshit, then I'm all for saying alright…when we present it let's handle it that way."

Rhea snorts at Reed. "They teach *this* in the Academy? This bullshit is precisely why I'm not cut out for command. I actually just try and do my job." She shakes her head. Properly baffled. "Fine. If it's a test, I'll march up to his office and call him on it personally. He's already got my official opinion in writing." She blinks at Salin. "*Marriage* proposals?" She almost asks. But thinks the better of it. More head-shaking. She leaves him to his meeting, looking back to Reed and the CMO. "Can I use the words 'metric fraktonne of bullshit'?" She's only half-joking. "I'm certainly all for that."

Reed watches Salin leave, "He's going to wear the cape, I know he is." He sighs, "You would not believe the shit the Academy teaches you." He says to Rhea, "I'm about ninety percent sure this is a manufactured situation." He gestures to the door, JAGman doesn't get that it's not just Fotilas that's this is looking at." He takes his cane once more, letting out a breath, "But I have to approach this as an exercise, in my head. It's the only way to shove the rest of it aside and deal with it rationally. And it's the only way to be rational about this. All the rest of this, everything but the Morality issue, all of that has to be delt with and handled rationally, clearly and presented as a workable proposal. Otherwise it all fails. Only when all he has left is the moral stance, does number five get used."

"I release all royalties on the phrase," Zaharis tells Rhea. "So it's done then. We'll finish cooking this pot to tender-roast, and deal with the bad taste of the rest separately."

"I'm pretty sure I would have no trouble believing the shit the Academy teaches you," Rhea says dryly to Reed. More seriously, "I hope you're right. That this is just some bizarre test. I don't particularly want to think my commander was serious about it. We got ourselves a plan, then?" She sounds more satisfied, now. She likes wrenching things in place.

Reed turns, taking the forgotten water bottle, he got with the whiteboard opens it, "Almost." He takes a drink of the water, then pauses, and continues to drink. This time he's downing three quarters of the bottle, then takes a deep breath before sighing and moving around to sit in the last empty chair. "We need to either make the stitches small, or buff the plates once the repair job's done, depending on which departmental analogy you want."

Zaharis doesn't generally do analogies unless they involve gore. He sits back, drawing an ankle up over his knee. "I think it should be flat out. When the proposal is submitted, acknowledge right there that this is a morale initiative, not a 'morality' one."

"I like buffing," Rhea notes. Wry. She nods, serious, to Zaharis. "Agreed. I have little patience for bullshit, and I'm up to my neck in it with this thing. Hopefully some good will come out of it. For the Carina, at least."

Reed plants his cane between his feet, resting his forehead on the handle of the cane, looking at the deck, "Okay, I submit Salin should be the one to present this. He's a Lawyer. He is trained in courtroom presentation. He can go at this in a way that is not going to directly piss Regas off. Least not at first." He licks his lips. "And there needs to be a form of united departments about this, what.. what's the others think? The Marines, Pietr, Air Wing.. What's Rue think about this why is it just Medical Engineering and JAG?" He doesn't know.

I think Salin's been frothing at the mouth to do this since it began," Zaharis says. "No opposition to his being the frontman. As for the other departments, before it goes to Regas he can submit a clean, ready draft to the other departments and give them time to shred what parts they've got their expertise in."

"We're the only ones who've offered up opinions, as far as I know," Rhea says. But she nods. "Not that it matters. You're correct about the need to present a united front." She pauses a beat. "I can feel Major Rue out about it, if you like."

Reed nods, cane in his hands wobbling, "That's the next moves, then. Salin drafting it all in Legalese, and preparing his case for presentation. Rhea feeling out Rue about it." He lifts his head and leans back in the chair, now looking at the celing, as if trying to find the answers there, "Anything missing?"

"Nothing that I can say now. I need to finish crunching some numbers." Zaharis replies.

"All right, then. Let's get to it," Rhea says. Standing. "I'll venture into Pilot Country in the next day or so. I need to build up my tolerance for the atmosphere." She eyes Reed and his wobbly cane. "Unless there's anything more, I think I'll turn in."

Reed looks up to the celing, "Okay.." He whispers, slosing his eyes, tension leaving his face that's been slowly building, and now flushed out of him, "Okay.. Last thing then is to transcribe that." He points to the board, "To paper for Mr. I don't like electronic media." He puts a hand to his stomach as he moves to stand, but quickly removes it.

"Yeah, me too." Zaharis stands up, taking his stuff with him. "Got a lot of stuff to draft tonight for my department." He taps his finger against Salin's desk and goes on, lowering his voice slightly. "Come to the conclusion that I need to say something about what just happened. I can't go around spouting about all this without…some show of honesty." He gently rubs his nose, having said that. "I'll see the two of you tomorrow."

Rhea nods to Zaharis. A faint smile coming to her face. "Good. It'll be easier, I think, in the long run. Get it out there in the daylight. They're pros. They'll deal."

Reed nods, "Agreed." He says, "It'll be good for you, and them. Open honest showing. They all respect you." He gestures, "Well, ninety six percent." He moves to the desk and starts writing, glancing to the board.

"I'm not sure it'll go over well," Zaharis says, but then shrugs. "But it was my fault, and…well. What will happen will happen." Thinking about doing this makes him look a little sick, but he picks up his pen and caps it. "Two of you be good, okay?"

"You, too," Rhea says, offering another smile to Zaharis before she stands. Ready to take her leave of the Lawyer Lair. Reed is eyed. "C'mon, Carter. Walk me home."

Reed finishes, and turns, looking to Zaharis, "Good luck. In all honesty, good luck." He nods, then turns to Rhea, smiling, as he moves to her, offering an arm. "Always, Milady."

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