Metal Memoriam Over Eel
Metal Memoriam Over Eel
Summary: Rhea and Darius toast fallen space stations. Eve is given material for psychological theories about engineers.
Date: 39 ACH
Related Logs: Desperate Times

Mess Hall Genesis - Deck 9

39 ACH 6285 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.

-----< Condition Three - Public Area >----
Contents: Eve Rhea Wireless 1498

Exits: [O] Corridor

Special: +lhelp - Local Help Available

Dinner, lately, is what you make of it. And there are so few ways to make eel terribly appealing after the forth or fifth meal. Eve is sitting at a table, picking through a dish of it, but at least there are fresh rolls! A pair of glasses sit low on her nose, while she reads a magazine that's horribly out of date.

Chase comes in from Corridor 9B.
Chase has arrived.

Rhea strides into the Mess. She looks like she's literally dug her way out of the inside of an engine. Her duty fatigues are sweaty and smudged. There are even streaks of black grease on her face. She has, at least, washed her hands before eating. She gets into the chow line, from which she is served some sort of eel stew and coffee.

Eve is prodding at whatever eel concoction he was served up, likely stew as well, if it can qualify as that. Her spoon is in one hand while the other hold a curled up magazine, of which she's reading an article on the hot vacation spots of Caprica. Hot is right. Nuclear. She sets the magazine down to turn the page, and happens to glance up at that time. Rhea is sighted, and she waits until the woman is through the line before trying to wave her over. "Open seat, if you'd like.." she offers.

Chase enters the Mess Hall, ambling in with a careless sort of demeanor, yawning as he does so. Running on autopilot, he aims himself as the chow line, where he waits patiently while others get to enjoy the bliss of the eel stew before him.

Rhea returns Eve's wave, offering her a faint smile. "Don't mind if I do, Lieutenant." She pads over to Eve's table and plops down. Starting in on her eel. She has some enthusiasm for the stuff, at least. There's a tiredness about her, but it's a healthy sort. Brought by long hours and hard-worked muscles. A nod is offered to Chase as she passes him.

Eve has noticed Rhea always has an enthusiasm for eating, Eel or otherwise. Though the last time it was pie. Delicious delicious pie. Those were the days. A warm smile curves Evelyn's lips. "Long day, Major?" She asks, but doesn't seem to take any slight about the woman's appearance. Would she still be Rhea if not covered in grease, would Zaharis still be Zaharis if he… "Hey, did Major Z quit smoking?" She asks, as if the thought just occurred to her.

Darius comes in from Corridor 9B.
Darius has arrived.

Chase seems relatively oblivious. That is, until he gets up to the part of the line where he's duly offered the eel stew. He blinks at it, and then shudders. "Another day of eel… I think I'll pass," he mutters, stepping out of line and letting someone else take his share instead. Nodding absently to the other two, he begins to aim for the door again.

Rhea does not even seem to notice the layer of grease she's wearing. She's rarely entirely free of it when on duty. She nods at Evelyn's question. "Productive. Did a run with one of the maintenance teams this morning, then some work on the main engines. Lots of hands tied up with salvage operations right now, so there's plenty of tasks that need doing." For which she sounds grateful. She's sitting with Eve at one of the tables, eating the rations the Mess has to offer.

Chase leaves for Corridor 9B [O].
Chase has left.

White hair, huge, thin glasses, a seemingly semi-permanant scowl… and his right arm in a sling. Oh, this guy's going to just be a big bag of chuckles. He's holding a tray of food in his left hand and bracing it against the sling for balance. He squints, too, but only while looking around. Apparently he spots a familiar face, as he's heading towards Rhea's table.

Eve gives a vague nod, flipping closed the magazine she was reading and peeling off her glasses to set them on top. "So the real question becomes, are you avoiding the question about Major Zaharis." But she's smile. The shrink is always smiling, even as she weasels her way into your brain. "Productive is good. Keeps the mind busy. The hands busy." She glances up as Darius approaches, giving him another nod.

Rhea eyes Eve across the rim of her coffee cup. "You shrinking me over the day's stew, Lieutenant? As for Jesse, you'll have to ask him yourself. He hasn't talked to me about it. I haven't seen him light up lately, though, which is definitely unusual." She doesn't sound entirely pleased. "And that's the point. Got to keep my equilibrium these days. I do better when I can put my hands to something." A brow is arched at Eve, as if she's half-waiting for the shrink to ask more. But Darius' approach distracts her. He's given a short, welcoming nod. "Chief…Sagona, is it? Sit down. Take a load off. The food goes down easier if you aren't moving."

"Major Zimmermann." responds Darius with a nod. Surprisingly, he doesn't have a voice to match the scowl. At least, he doesn't sound bitter and generally pissed off. He's certainly got a slight gruffness to him, though, "Yes it -does- go down a touch easier when you're down, as well." Eve gets a nod as well, "Senior Chief Sargona. Darius is fine, too. One of the PAS' fine feathered refugees." That, at least, triggers a few pings of resentment and bitterness. Seems he's not all that pleased with what happened to his last home. He sets the tray down and sits.

Eve drops her gaze to her meal. "Wouldn't dream of it, Major. Consider it just friendly concern." Its half mumbled, considering they just got company. She takes a nibble of a roll before her gaze is lifted again, offering Darius a warm smile of greeting at his introduction. "And you've met Rhea, which leaves me, I suppose?" She wipes a palm on her offduty pants, before offering it across to him. "Lieutenant Evelyn Sloan, Em Dee. Company Psyche."

Rhea cracks a slightly crooked grin at Darius. "We're acquainted. Briefly. We'll get to know each other better soon. The senior chief will be slaving away down in the bowels of the battlestar soon enough. How's the arm, by the way?" She nods to Darius' sling. "There's plenty of work you can be put to, when you're able." Her gaze goes back to Eve. "Good. I prefer to know when I'm being probed. Which reminds me. I should schedule an appointment. I'll head up to Sickbay after I've processed the chow, jot in something with the nurses." She makes no more of it than that, and resumes eating.

"Good to meet you, Eve. Ah, Company Psyche." Dimly, Darius adds, "Business must be booming right now." and then he sighs, pressing his fork against his food and pushing it around a little, "Arm's okay. Doc says it's broken in only one place, and there's a hairline fracture, but it's nothing too serious. The irony of it just irritates me to hell, though. My own girl," The station, apparently, is his 'girl', "lashing out at me like that. Eh, I guess that's why they make alcohol. Anyway, it's my right arm, not my left. I can still do good work like this. I'd rather start with my hands dirty."

Eve's smile falls a little, so it sits unevenly on her lips. "Just as busy, and likely just as beloved as a dentist. But at least I get a couch and all he gets is an uncomfortable reclining chair." She listens to the tale of his arm, pressing her lips together in a look of sympathy.

"She?" The choice of pronoun makes Rhea smirk slightly. "I always put the PAS down as masculine, myself. I think it was the engines. Gods, those things had a kick to them. Burned clean as anything I've ever seen, though, and frak did they make a lovely light when they jumped." She sounds almost wistful as she rhapsodizes about the engines. And far more excited by them than a person probably should be about a mechanical object. "The Genny now, she's a lady. You ever served on a Valkyrie class? I have a soft spot for them, I'll admit. They're sleek as anything you'll find with a hyperlight engine. You'll like jumping her. She practically skips. Some engineers'll bust their balls over the bigger models, but I'll take a Valk any day." She seems to realize she's gotten off on an engine tangent, and dials the mech-love back for Eve. "I wouldn't say that, Lieutenant. We've all got plenty carrying around in our heads these days. We need a place to air it out now and then."

"Oh, no, no. You're doing her memory a disservice now, Major." This, at least, is a subject that warms Darius a bit. "She may have been rough and almost brutish at times, but she was as complicated as any lady, hands down." He nods a bit and listens to Rhea, "I did a stint on a Valkyrie a long while ago. Works of art, I have to agree. It'll be nice getting a much closer look at one, but just the drift gradiant alone." If Eve is paying attention, it might almost look scary the way Darius is easily sucked into another world, just like Rhea is. Clearly some of the people at this table are sharing their stash. "But I have to say that in spite of the PAS' raw power…" He's peering upwards a bit wistfully, "There was a certain kind of sophstication and class to it. I'm sincerely going to miss that station. But anyway…" And then he snaps out of it, returning apologetically to Eve, "You know there's not much keeping some of us glued together these days, right? Anything that helps is welcome. Dentists.. not so much,"

Eve points her spoon at Darius, "Hey. Dentists have feelings too." But the chiding is light. "Ugh." The psyche says with a heavy sigh. "I know, its better than starving, but this stuff sits like a rock on my stomach." At least she's finished her meal, and when she drops the spoon it lands with a clatter in an empty bowl. "Please. Don't stop on account of me. Its…nice to hear the two of you talk."

"Rough and brutish? Senior Chief Petty Officer Sagona, I would never even imply such a thing," Rhea says with a faint smile. "Truth be told, from an engineering perspective, I would've loved to have been assigned to him myself." She still 'hims' the station, but it seems an instinctive sort of thing for her. "That thing had some of the sleekest toys the Colonial Military has to offer. And she did some mind-bending things with them. Taken for all in all, we shall never see the station's like again." She raises her coffee cup in a memorial toast to it. Properly somber. The psychological intricacies of personifying mechanical objects are left for Eve to ponder.

"Oh, but she was." Still with the 'she'. Darius is no more likely to yield to a gender change for the dearly departed than Rhea seems to be, "And Darius is fine.. but she was, if only because things were not perfected. But to hear the rattling that station made when the funnels misaligned… phew." He lifts his mug and clinks it to Rhea's in toast, "To the PAS, we'd be blessed to meet its ilk again, but she'll always be a woman to me. And to the Genesis." He turns to Eve, at least aware that this might look like bizarro-land, but at least inviting her to join rather than film a documentary.

Eve raises her cup of water, adding her own toast to the fallen ship, how could she not. But unlike the other two, she sees past the circuits and wires and bulkheads to the four hundred and fifty odd souls that were lost. "I have to get back. You two don't start taking apart the vending machines out of boredom, hmm?" She shifts to her feet, reaching out for her magazine and to bus her tray.

Rhea chuckles. "You knock around an installation long enough, you start hearing every creak they have. You snipes always seemed to make him purr just fine when I visited. To the PAS. And Genny. You'll hear her clanks in no time, I have no doubt." She sips her coffee, tilting her head at Eve, smirking. "I should be heading out as well. Got to shower, and pay a visit to the Sprocket." It may be unclear, for those not versed in the ways of Rhea, if she's talking about a machine or not. She speaks of it with great fondness. "Darius. Good to have you in our shop. You'll be on light duty until the sling comes off, but I think we can find an outlet for you. We've got a major salvage undertaking to dig through right now." Mention of that makes her expression sober, but she focuses on the nuts and bolts of it. "I'll see that one of my senior techs get you the particulars."

Darius lowers the mug and downs his, well, apple juice in one gulp. He's just going to have to pretend it was beer. "Was a pleasure Lt. We'll meet again. I don't need a dentist, but like every other person on this ship, I could probably use a little therapy." That it's said a bit more frankly and seriously probably makes it seem a little more stark. He was probably supposed to crack a joke there, but he was quite serious. "And yes, Major. Please help me get briefed. I have a lot of gear switching to do, both figuratively and literally. I've got far too much to do myself, though. Was a pleasure having you two ladies for company."

Eve smiles again, the expression finding new source. Maybe its the talk of Sprocket, or the fact that Darius seems willing to lend himself over to her doctoryly wiles. "Stop by any time you like. if the door is open, I'm not with another patient. I am capable of just friendly chatter, as well. Does wonders for the soul." She nods to them both, then splits off from Rhea to drop off her tray and head out to whatever it is she does in her off time.

Rhea nods shortly at Darius' words about therapy. "I'll be by, Lieutenant," she says simply. A smirk to Darius. "We're all switching gears these days. Me and my snipes'll make the process as painless for you as possible. If nothing else, there's plenty to keep your hands busy. I'll get you those specs." With that, she's off to wash Genesis grime off of herself. Sometime after she's deposited her tray and left the Mess, of course.

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