More Fun with Markers
More Fun with Markers
Summary: Reed drops by Rhea's shop. Manny meets Sparky.
Date: 12 BCH
Related Logs: Sparks From Beyond the Line

Main Engineering Genesis - Deck 8
12 BCH 2235 Souls

Main Engineering is staffed by the Chief Engineer and his or her crew. There are enough monitors, flashing lights, back-up generators, consoles and various other areas to man the battlestar and keep it in top form at all times. Storage areas, locked areas, pipes, machinery and tools are all around the area. The desk of the ChEng sits in an area where it is the quietest so work can be done.

----—< Condition 3 - Duty Area >-----
Contents: Rhea Marker_Four Whiteboard Wireless 1319

Exits: [O] Corridor

Reed comes in from Corridor 8D.
Reed has arrived.

Main Engineering is humming in its standard, beehive-like fashion. Techs rotate in and out, grabbing engineering kits as they head off to various maintenance assignments on the ship. There's the ever-present presence of officers and NCOs around the generators and consoles. And, at the moment, a healthy cluster of techs poking around the marker. For her part, Rhea is at her desk. Brow furrowed in annoyance that only paperwork can prompt for her.

Rhea's Desc
In her middle thirties, Rhea Zimmermann is neither a young pup nor particularly grizzled. There's an air of easy, straightforward competence about her. The confidence of a woman who knows herself and owns both her strengths and foibles. She as a strong-featured, handsome face: high cheek bones, a broad nose and almond-shaped hazel eyes. Her face is smooth, save for tiny laugh and smile lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth. When she speaks, traces of a working-class Sagittaron accent color her words, though education and years of living off-colony have softened it. But her most distinguishing feature is probably her hands. Small but strong and calloused, with deft fingers and short nails that usually have traces of grease under them. Her long dark hair is tied back in a tight, no-fuss ponytail, to keep it out of her face while she works.

Rhea is dressed in Colonial Fleet fatigues. The olive green shirt is tucked into matching trousers, with a subdued black web belt around the waist. The trousers are in turn bloused into black combat boots. A softer, lighter green fabric decorates the shoulders of the shirt, and the buttons up the center are hidden by a flap. Black quick clips, rather than buttons, secure two large pockets on the front of the shirt. On her left sleeve is the black, gold and white Genesis patch. The pins on her collars show a rank of Captain. The only jewelry she wears is a plain gold wedding band, on the third finger of her left hand.

Reed enters Main Engineering, clipboard in hand, looking around instantly, spotting the PO on duty to watch for brass, he snaps out a hand, pointing a pen at her before she raises the alarm. "Acht! Don't call-"

"Major On Deck!"

That was another snipe behind Reed. Rhea has a team here, and Reed's just not on home territory. He sighs, shoulders slumping, "As you were. Where's the ChEng?" He turns in the direction he's pointed, heading in that direction.

Reed's Desc
This man is tall, topping at an even six feet. His black hair is thick and cut regulation short, while his looks are square, youthful seeming and handsome. His black eyes seem to look out with an intent intelligence while his pale complexion seems more pale than someone used to natural sunlight. His frame is athletic, but not overly bulky.

Reed is dressed in a Colonial officer's uniform. The medium blue jacket is tucked into matching trousers, with a black, brass-buckled belt around the waist. A softer, darker blue fabric decorates the shoulders. The black buttons are off-center, running up the right hand side of the tunic. The left breast sports a single button-down pocket. On his left sleeve is the black, gold and white Genesis patch. The pins on his collars show a rank of Major.

Rhea hears Reed, or at least Reed's chorus, before she sees him. She stands, saluting. And grinning as she watches the sighing and slumping. "Major Carter." Once the saluting's taken care of she strides out from behind her desk. Not sorry to have an excuse to climb out of her papers. "What brings you to my shop?"

Reed approaches, "Captain Zimmerman." He returns the salute, and pulls his clipboard, shaking off the foiled attempt to do this quietly. "I need to ask you a question. How's it going on the Pandora with the Structural Engineers?"

"Well. Far better than I'd expected when I first saw the wreck that ship was in. Your troops do excellent work," Rhea replies, leaning back against her desk so she's sitting on some of her papers. "The electrical damage is going to take some delicate fiddling, but the actual structural dings aren't too severe. We should have the ship back jump-worthy in another couple weeks."

Reed nods, making a few notes, "Alright." He waves a hand to her, "Keep them for as long as you need them to make sure you get the job done right. I just need to beg some personnel from the Colonel that they would normally handle." He finishes his note and looks up, "In truth, Genesis has more specialized personnel in this matter than the Structural Engineers anyway, I was going to ask for some of them on loan, but I'll need a full crew now."

Rhea makes a soft "Ah" sound. "I can give them back to you early if you need them. If we push, we can get the heavy structural work done in the next couple of days. The wiring'll be the real bitch part of this job." Blunt as a spoon, the ChEng, and even her veneer of officer polish tends to drop on her own turf. "But, if it's something else you're shopping for, we probably have something in your size. What's do you need?"

Reed shakes his head, "Keep them till they're of no further use to your work on the Pandora. They won't be happy till they've inspected all the work in triplicate anyway." He flips up some papers, smirking, and turns the clipboard to the Cheng, "Part of the manifest from the recent supply ship that came in. No offense, Captain, but your snipes aren't what I was hoping to get." On the paper is an invoice for a full array of Point Defense Cannons, ammunition, and installation supplies. Weapons Department stuff.

Rhea looks over the invoice, eyes widening a notch. Lots of shooty things there. "Yes. I suspect the Weps are what you're going to want to poach for this. That's quite a bit of hardware you've got to deal with. I can see why you need to borrow a few extra hands." The observation is mild, though she can't keep the curiosity out of her tone.

Reed nods, "Offically, the Engineers I leant you are supposed to handle the installation, but in truth, I'd rather have those specialized in handling this kind of equipment doing the work from the get-go. Not that these are much in comparison to Gennys teeth, but it's one of the last major installations before the Station goes into the final completion."

Rhea nods in agreement on that. "Usually best to let the Weapons boys and girls handle the big guns. Though, for all our sakes, I hope they don't get much use. Not expecting trouble out here, are you?"

Reed takes back the Clipboard, shaking his head, "At the moment, no, and definately not with Genny here floating off our bow, but the station needs aggressive defense measures in place. She's been designed for them from the chalkboard and I want to try to keep as on schedule as possible with the Pandora matter going on."

"Very practical," Rhea says simply. There's still that flicker of curiosity in her eyes, though, as she regards the major. "Your my son's new hero, by the way. I'm pretty sure he's going over the station design as we speak, to see if he can justify bringing a motor scooter on board in the name of science."

Reed smirks, "Good luck with that. He got the rollerblades on provision, a motor scooter actually does have Regs against it. Powered personal transport." He chuckles, flipping the papers back down on the clipboard. He's so used to ignoring unvoiced uncertainty and curiousity it's second nature. "He's a good kid. A special case as most of the other children on station are Contractors family, I don't have to tell you that. I understand your position, Captain, and I'll keep an eye out for him."

"He is a good kid," Rhea says softly, with some pride in her spawn. "I don't think he'll give you any trouble. Nothing *you'd* need to worry about, at least. He's been around military installations longer than most personnel. He knows the drill. I hope you weren't called away on anything terribly urgent last night."

Reed shakes his head, "Nothing to worry about." He looks down to his clipboard., flipping up a couple papers. "It's always something. I hope I can get Specialist Miller from Weapons to help. He seemed a solid sort." He looks up, and to Rhea, eyes intent, but flicking, as if he were operating not wholely on fact, and trying to make a connection, "At least I think it was Miller.. Bad costume. supposed to be a tree."

Rhea chuckles. "Specialist Miller is your arbor man, yeah. He's better with guns than impersonating foliage, I'm sure." If she's still curious, she doesn't press. If it's above her paygrade around these parts, she probably doesn't /want/ to know. "Speaking of poaching. I was about to send you a message. You got any contractors specializing in metallurgical studies? I could use a trained set of eyes for Sparky here." She gestures to her pet buoy. "Life sciences aren't exactly my specialty. If it doesn't beep, I don't quite grok it."

Reed nods, "Oh, sure. I've got advanced degrees in Metallurgy specializing in alloy kinesthetics and property interaction. I can have a look if you like, I assume you need the foreign materials analyzed?" He pauses, "Speaking of contractors though, I hope you met your two. The Conductor in the fishnets, De Los Reyas, the Comms specialist, and the Pyramid Player, miss Jaxxon. Cryptologist."

Rhea arches a brow. Fishnets? "I still need to corral them, come to it. But, yes. Analysis was precisely what I was looking for. You probably have far better facilities for that in your shop, anyhow." Her eyes widen a notch as he lists off his personal credentials. "If you have the time. I wouldn't want it to take you away from your command duties. I don't imagine Zeus has a lot of free time over there on Olympus."

Reed smiles, nodding, "That's true, but I can still analyze your foreign debris. If you'll send over the materials, I'll run them through a Mass Spectrometer and Gas Chromatiscope, be able to tell you just what they're made of."

"I'll get them over to you today," Rhea says, smiling broadly herself. "Thank you, Major. I hope it won't be *too* trying for you to get away from your desk for awhile to go mess about in the lab." She gives him a little wink.

Reed sighs, "It'll be a relief to actually do some Science. I'm looking forward to it." He looks at his clipboard, "Right now, I think I need to find either the Colonel or the XO and try to beg some Weapstechs out of them."

"Try CIC, or they're trapped in their offices doing some official piece of ship business," Rhea says, sounding rather sympathetic of her superiors. "That's one thing I like about the Engineering Corps. I'm in very little danger of being thrust onto the command track. I think only medicals are less suited for it than snipes, and that's a near thing. I just get to play with my engines all day."

Reed smiles, nodding, "I used to think the same about Research Science, Captain. Be careful." He inclines his head, "I'm off."

Rhea chuckles. "I'll tread lightly. Thanks again, Major. I'll dig up something interesting for you to analyze." With that, she gives Reed a parting salute and heads over to do some poking over her own at the buoy.

Reed returns the salute and turns, heading out of Engineering to let the Snipes return to their normal behavorial patterns.

Reed leaves for Corridor 8D [O].
Reed has left.

(…Sometime later…)

Manny has arrived.

Main Engineering is humming in its standard, beehive-like fashion. Techs rotate in and out, grabbing engineering kits as they head off to various maintenance assignments on the ship. There's the ever-present presence of officers and NCOs around the generators and consoles. And, at the moment, a healthy cluster of techs poking around the marker buoy. Rhea's among them right now, prodding the thing along with a young engineering officer.

Manny isn't in uniform, but she is wearing coveralls, toying with her security tags and wearing her coveralls mostly zipped up, free hand in her pocket as she's followed by a female marine and she sucks her teeth, scanning the area with a low whistle, making an impressed face as she squints, probably looking for whoever she's supposed to be meeting.

Manny's Desc
Standing at 5'3 this young woman is lean and muscular, obviously no stranger to hard work and her figure is softened out by her busty and curvaceous figure. While tattooed, her golden brown skin is naturally dusky even without tanning and while mostly smooth, she has a few scars from life and its trials. Bright hazel eyes take in her surroundings and her full lips twist in a wistful smirk from time to time. Her hair is dark brown with natural highlights of different shades of brown, thick and curly and falling down to her mid-back.

Her tattoos when exposed, all have meaning. She has a tattoo on the nape of her neck, a tiny name 'Sierra' in cursive over a birth date. She has a band of musical notes tattooed around her right bicep and on her left forearm is a spiral of stars. On her left shoulder blade is a beautifully detailed elegant tiny and buxom woman in a toga, straddling what could be the nose of a viper and leaning over ala pin-up style. There is a tattoo on her lower back of a snarling black pittbull, guarding a stylized red heart that 'drips' into a puddle at the base of her spine. On each of her hip bones is tattooed a detailed wing.

Slightly more reserved than most of her outfits, a white tank-top is worn over a dark red tank-top for a double tank effect, formfitting it conforms to her curves with a modest neckline, the only cleavage exposed that which is natural. When needed she has her security tags shoved down in said cleavage or shoved somewhere else on her person. A pair of dark coveralls with the sleeves ripped off ride low on her hips, rolled down to serve as her pants from time to time, shrugged up to be worn properly when she must. Around her waist is a thin tool belt with the tiny tools of her trade. On her feet are a pair of sturdy boots and her hair has been drawn back in a low ponytail and twisted in a bun secured by writing utensil.

Rhea is too absorbed in her prodding to immediately notice Manny, but the ensign assisting her spots the contractor and her Marine escort as they enter. He's a young man, so Manny gets his attention. "Welcome to Engineering," he says, all hospitality. "You looking for something? You…don't look like one of our techs."

Manny gives the young man a once over, grinning to herself before clearing her throat and shrugging a shoulder. "Lookin' for uh Captain Zimmerman?" She tilts her head to the side curiously. "And I don't look like one of your techs chico, because I'm not exactly."

"Gizmo!" Rhea barks sharply, when she notices her ensign has fled. The young man flushes, rapidly hustling Manny in the direction of the buoy. "Sir! This…umm…" He's clearly unsure how exactly to announce Manny. So he just falls back on, "…she's looking for you." Rhea straightens up, looking Manny over. She grins. "Ah! You must be one of Major Carter's contractors. You comms or cryptography?"

Manny saunters along, eyeing the Ensign with her own quiet amusement, smile toying at her lips. "De los reyes." She gives a Rhea. "Comms naturally, you're the Capitan I was told to report to?" She arches an eyebrow, waggling her security passes. "I had to sign stuff and everything to come and see ya."

"Ensign Toby Mercer," the lad introduces himself, smirking when he's called 'Gizmo.' It's some sort of nick-name he appears to take pride in, though Rhea wasn't exactly tossing it around endearingly. For the moment, the ChEng ignores him. Her focus on Manny. "I'm her, yes. Welcome to Engineering. Security tends to be tight with who they allow on the Genesis but, now that you're cleared, you should be able to muck around here to your heart's content." A nod is offered to the Marine escort. "Captain Rhea Zimmermann. And this…" She gestures a thumb at the busted buoy. "…is our little project."

"Ensign Mercer…" She murmurs softly. "I'll remember that name." And with a wink to the young man, Manny looks back to Rhea, licking her lips and moving a hand to her tool belt reflexively, flipping open a small pouch and frowning in concentration. "Mmhm." She stares at the busted buoy for a very very long time before looking back to Rhea. "How exactly can I help you?"

The young man looks /extremely/ pleased with himself for making such an impression on Manny. Rhea sighs, pushing a sealed container and clipboard on him. "Ensign. Since you seem to have nothing productive to do right now, you can run these samples over to Major Carter on the PAS. Be back in two hours. No detours to the Aerospace lab." Mercer nods sharply enough, though he looks sorry to go. He offers a, "Pleasure, ma'am" to Manny as he runs off. Rhea shakes her head. "Don't mind the boy. He's fresh out of Fleet training. I'm still breaking him in. Anyway, our Raptor pilots retrieved this. It's supposed to transmit data back to our installations, but it's spitting out gibberish right now. Your cryptography partner will be taking a look at…whatever it's trying to say. I was hoping you could poke into the comms system itself. See if anything's…out of place."

Manny chuckles lowly, watching the Ensign leave with a shrug her her shoulders. "That's when they're best." Then she's back to the topic on hand, going back to staring at the buoy, approaching it carefully but keeping her distance as she hunkers down some, squinting at it and listening as she worries her bottom lip and is quiet for a few moments. "It was singing to ya'll hunh? Well I can look at the systems, I can also try to set up a way to record the feed, see if there are any variations, I might not be a cryopto but I'm a DJ so…I'll see what I can do. Is it receiving from other frequencies? Or sending anything else out?"

Rhea gets a chuckle out Manny's comment about her ensign, but her thoughts are entirely on business right now. "Record, eh? Excellent. The cryptographer Carter loaned me is one…Cora Jaxxon, I think her name was. Maybe between the two of you, you can make something of it. As to that, I'm not entirely sure yet. That's what we have to find out. I'm more interested in dissecting it than fixing it right now, so feel free to poke at whatever you like. The fact that it's broken is less of a concern than what broke it, and why, if you take my meaning."

Manny squints a bit more, tugging a small notebook from her tool belt and a pen soon after, writing something out and sighing softly. "I'm sure we'll do our frakkin' best." Then she's clearing her throat, straightening up. "You wanna always be around when I'm pokin'? I'd be more concerned with stopping that transmission after recordin' what's needed from it and then dissecting' it honestly. That's the thing about transmissions, once the musical wave is out there so to speak the beat never stops, just depends on your frequency but yeah…" She nods in quiet agreement. "I take your meaning."

Rhea shakes her head. "I don't think you need my constant supervision. Though I'm usually not far, and I'm *very* interested in what you find. There's always an engineering officer around, so you won't get lonely. And my techs will be helping you. They know their business better than most of us commissioned folks." She winks at Manny. "You can get started as soon as you like. Though I need to pull you over to my desk for a minute. Get you integrated and signed into the duty roster." She sounds more less enthusiastic about that than about digging into the guts of a battered buoy. The ChEng is not at home amongst paperwork.

Manny nods and clicks the pen nib away, tucking her notepad and pen back into her toolbelts, clearing her throat and nodding slowly, her mind is obviously caught up in her professional options here and then she groans and nods with a grimace. "Oh fun, paperwork, everybody's bestest buddy!" She does a mock happy dance, with a shimmy and a shake and a roll of her eyes. "What you say goes, Capitan, I am here after all for your use."

"C'mon. We'll make this quick and painless," Rhea says with a smirk, heading back to her desk. Her papers aren't so much arranged as piled, but she seems to know where things are. A little digging and she's found the specs on Manny sent over from the station. "Just sign this. It'll let command know you've shown up for work. I'm the one who actually has to file them. Don't worry. It's the brass that's assaulted with the most paperwork." She smirks. Her desk is a mess of duty rosters, reports and schematic drawings. And some personal pictures. One of a slightly younger Rhea and a bespectacled, curly-haired man, both dressed in officer blue. Another of a boy whose features are a blend of both the ChEng and her partner in the photo, though his mass of curly hair is far less regulation than his father's.

Manny follows along, chuckling under her breath and tugging back out her pen as she waits for what she has to sign and after scanning whatever that is? She'll sign it, pausing for a moment to eye the pictures on the desk, glancing to the boy and she's quiet for a few moments before turning back to what she has to sign, clearing her throat. "Family pics?" She asks curiously.

"Yep. Those're my boys," Rhea says with a fond smile, taking the forms once Manny is done with them. They're put atop a pile that has a vaguely 'things that're are finished' look about it. She picks up the photos to better show them off, handing them to Manny if she wants a closer look. "The big one is Ephraim. Captain Ephraim Zimmermann, proper. He's stationed on the Persius now. Logistics. Finest accountant in the Fleet." All of pride, she is. "Though I guess he's not much bigger now. Reece is already taller than me. He's the younger one. His dad hit six feet before he was sixteen, so my days of looking over his shoulder are over, in less I get a ladder."

Manny twirls her pen between her fingers as she studies the pictures, tucking her pen behind a ear to reach out for the photos to study them even closer and then she offers a weak smile. "You're a real lucky lady, Capitan, real lucky." She nods slowly and then looks to the picture of Reece for a while and then looking back to Rhea as she offers the pictures back, chuckling softly. "They grow fast eh?"

"Tell me about it," Rhea says wryly, as to fast-growing kids. "That's an old picture. He just turned twelve. He was living with his dad when Ephraim was station at Fleet Headquarters on Picon. But then he got the Persius job. Kids and battlestars don't mix. The station was the most stable option between us. I'm enjoying having him around. They're like sprouts, the way they grow at his age." She sets the pictures back on her desk, shrugging. "Sorry. Didn't mean to get going about the spawn. You need anything else before I put you to work?"

"The kids pretty happy here? I mean, I'll only be here for only six months…but…" Manny trails off before shrugging her shoulders and just chuckling softly. "Hunh? Oh, yeah. Um. Nope! I'm good, I have some of my own tools but if I need anything ya'll got techs and this whole big…engineering place here for me to holla out for help if need be."

"Between Ephraim and I, Reece is more used to moving than I'd like," Rhea answers. "The military doesn't keep you in one place for very long. So far he's doing pretty well on the station." She laughs. "He managed to wheel-and-deal Major Carter into convincing me to import a pair of new roller-blades here for him. Kid is a born horse-trader. Just like his dad. The tutors on the PAS are pretty good, and he can't get into too much trouble. A lot of the contractor's kids are younger than him, but he's managed to make a few friends. Anyhow, holler anytime you like. I'm good at finding toys for folks to play with."

Manny gives another nod and grin combo. "Maybe Sierra'll want to come or somethin'…anyhow, better get to work!" She chirps, rubbing the back of her neck and turning to head back towards the buoy, deep in thought.

"Oh, you've got one, too?" Rhea asks, beaming. "How's old's…?" But she resists the urge to launch into full mommy talk. She clears her throat. Work. Right. "Anyway. Have fun."

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