Rules of the Game
Rules of the Game
Summary: Zaharis confronts Regas over some issues before the Battlestar takes off from the fleet.
Date: 94 ACH
Related Logs: We're Leaving, Breaking and Entering
Players:
Regas..Zaharis..Rhea..

Commanding Officers Quarters Genesis - Deck 11
94 ACH 23797 Souls


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


Knockety knockety at the hatch. This has probably been going on since the announcement.

Regas is in the head getting dressed, which is what the CMO is told when the Guard lets him enter. There are two crewman still cleaning up the office. The stench of good whiskey is a sad thing, now mixed with some nasty pine cleaner. There is a nice hole in the leather chair behind the desk, where another leg of a desk chair poked into it.

Zaharis has a folder in his arms, official business. He'd been prepared to be neutral until his stroll through the corridor, which has changed his expression to something less businesslike and more irritated. He sniffs twice, nose wrinkling at the combined stench before he calls out. "Major Zaharis, sir. Take your time."

The cleaning crew looks to be almost done, and if they aren't they are on their way out as quickly as possible. A quick salute going to the CMO.

Regas steps out of the head, reaching to button the last one on his uniform jacket, "Major Zaharis, I'm sorry, all my chairs are taken to be thrown at me tonight. Would you like the couch?" He indicates it and walks over to his desk where things were resettled. But not necessarily in order, so he begins moving things.

Zaharis hehs, raising a dark brow as he looks over the seating arrangement. "Sure." He takes the offered seat comfortably, setting the black folder down on the cushion next to him. "Commander, what kind of games are these that you're playing with my department?"

"Excuse me?" The last button is done and he puts the paperweight on a stack left there for him to resort. Regas looks over, "You'll have to explain that one. I've had a busy week."

"I just passed Lieutenant Sloan and her…whatever St. German is…in the hallway," Zaharis replies, calmly. "Who was crowing about the 'gift' she had just been given regarding her being allowed to remain on the Genesis. Now I realise you have the full right to undermine whoever you damn well please, including yourself, but I wouldn't have expected it from you."

"It seems you still don't have a handle on that Psyche, Major. And this ship still hasn't learned what protocol involves when they have a problem." Regas smoothes down his jacket and reaches into his desk to drawer. Out comes a thin cheroot, who knows when he started puffing away again. It could be just now, "That young Lieutenant and her boyfriend, have been a pain in my backside for awhile now. They both feel they can come in here and order me around, slam a fist on my desk and demand I give them information? I made them hear what they wanted to hear. Unless I have another two in the brig following Pietr."

Zaharis already had a cigarette behind his ear. Now's as good a time as any to start smoking it, which he does. He rests his elbows down on his knees, blowing smoke towards the wall. "You made them hear that they've gotten a reprieve that nobody else on this ship gets. And that all they have to do is go over her department head and all medical authority to do it. Whether it's true or not, sir, you've just opened up a pretty big cloud of shit now that they're going to go around talking about it. That's trouble for -me-. If you want to say I deserved it by not holding onto her leash then fine. But you didn't have to put me into a position like this."

"She doesn't respect you or your authority, Jesse. While you were out in the sickbay, she was whining about having fell down under the attack. And her bulldog was in there and when I spoke to her, he was about to throw something at me." Regas eyes him now, "I hope you do evaluations on her, because she's in need a good set down. Did you ever find out how many other patients she slept with?"

"None that I'm aware of," Zaharis replies, blandly. "And when you believe someone doesn't respect the authority of one of your subordinates, then what…you feed it? Well done, sir." He purses his lips and shakes his head. "So do you mind coming clean to me about what you actually meant to happen here? If it's not actually a reprieve then this is about to get quite messy, and I'm the one that gets to clean it up."

Regas lights the cheroot finally and then looks down at a memo on his desk that must have arrived while he was out. A chuckle ensues, "This is the problem with this ship today. No one takes responsibility or has any kind of allegiance to what they signed up for. I guess they thought it would be a day cruise with Apple tini's and frakking." He reaches for a pen and makes a statement under the memo and call the guard to take it back to the XO. A puff is given then afterward, blue smoke mixing with that lovely pine/liquor smell in the room. "I could have brigged her, which would have been better? Her stating she has the paygrade since she helps with morale? Her own fiance can't control himself in a situation and he tells me the entire wing has their head buried in liquor because we lost a few people."

Zaharis ignores the memo-ing going in and out. "I fail to see how this is supposed to gain my sympathy for your position, Commander. A member of crew jumps authority and whines at you. You make her believe that she's getting what she wants. I'm not notified, so had I not walked through the hallway right then, I'd have a situation where you openly validated her lack of respect for me and have her thinking she's allowed to stay while I think she's leaving. Then later, when it does come time to reverse this misconception - assuming you ever meant to - confusion would become an argument which will waste an incredible amount of time and stir up some very bad blood. I'm sorry sir, but no. It was uncalled for and you've now damaged my department. Give me a straight answer. Is she being removed to the Carina or not?"

"Zeus on a frakking crutch, Major, I just got redressed. I was standing in alcohol and had the crew show up to clean my godsdamn office. I'm sorry if I didn't suddenly run to the comm and tell you that your Psychiatrist and her bulldog just stormed down my door." Regas has a cheroot in his hand. The room smells like pine and good liquor. His leather chair has a hole in the back of it from a chair leg landing there. "She'll be escorted off the Battlestar when it is time. You don't have to say a frakking word to her."

"Apology accepted," Zaharis says, drily. "And yes I do need to say a word to her. I will when I'm finished here. If she can't accept it like a mature adult I will have security remove her tonight." He flicks ash off the end of the cigarette and picks up his folder, thumping it onto his knees. "I'm going to work with Carter and shift the Hera's personnel. Leaving one of my Captains with them to run the medical effort while we're gone. Is there anything I need to know about the Genesis' plans that would help me decide how to assign my crew?"

Regas breathes out the smoke in his lungs and watches the CMO, "We're going to war, do what you need to do to prepare for it." The ash on the cheroot is dropped into an ashtray nearby. "I told Colonel Carter he could keep Captain Solon, as they are the minds of this Fleet and have been working to find homes for years. They can continue to do so and find those civilians a place they can live again."

Zaharis nods. If there's any reluctance about all this, it's not even close to showing itself. "Understood, sir. Then the Assaultstar is returning to combat? What about the materials for Daedalus, will they remain with our fleet?"

"I'd let Solon take care of it, he and Reed can find answers that we don't have any time for," A slight nod goes to Zaharis, "I'm sure there are marines that would rather fight than sit around and watch our people die without the ability to do anything. We can't stop those flying off from us. We can't wonder why there are shuttles trying to crash into us and not fight back. This is like sitting here and waiting for them to come and kill us. I'm not going to do that. The Hera is a good ship, Engineering and Weapons have her up. They do have some antique vipers we can send back to them. They'll probably have a better chance than we will in all honesty. And a Battlestar won't be like a large blinking light there for the Cylons to come and hit."

Zaharis winces slightly. "Sir, you read Major Zimmermann's brief on that probe and the other pieces. They may be capable of transmissions, any number of things. The Hera doesn't have medical lab capabilities to analyse the biotechnology. I strongly, strongly believe that those pieces need to remain with us. If we can crack them we might be able to use what we know against the Cylons, militarily. We can't do that if they're with the civilian fleet."

"I read it," Regas does the butt lean against the desk now. Atleast it is bolted down! "You want to drag them with us then and give them an idea of where we are and away from the Fleet?" A small smile begins working at the corners of the Commander's lips, "Now, why didn't I think of that?"

Zaharis snorts a little bit, and smirks. "You know you want to, sir. And I want to keep digging around with them and figure out exactly what it is that can stop that biomechanical heart. You game now?"

Rhea's imminent presence is brought to Regas' attention somehow. Likely by an aide. The ChEng would like to speak with him about some technical logistical details as the Genesis prepares to bug out in 72 hours. She'll wait until she's admitted.

Regas looks up. What's one more? "Come in, Major Zimmerman, I've been expecting you." He looks past her, "Didn't see the XO bounding down the corridor did you?"

Zaharis instantly looks happier than he did upon walking in here. "I'll take that as a yes. Work will continue here." He takes a drag off his cigarette and looks over and up. "Zimm. I'm about done for now, you want me to bug off?"

Rhea strides in. Not bounding. The ChEng is not given to bounding or bouncing of any kind. She's got her standard clipboard under her arm. It's a bit thicker with papers than usual. She comes to attention, saluting briskly. "Sir. I heard the word. Just brought a few particulars to go over with you that I think might be prudent to go over. I had expected to receive more details but, might as well cobble something together now that you can hash at." Zaharis is offered a faint smile. "Should be fairly routine, Doctor. You can linger if you like."

Regas nods to Rhea. He indicates a chair, "As long as you don't throw it at me, we're all good." He goes to sit in his now, it isn't creaking like it was maybe someone oiled it too. "If you'd like to remain with your son, I won't blame you. Also with Carter." He gets that out in the open right off.

Zaharis' eyes flicker at Regas' opening salvo to Rhea. He picks up his things and stands. "I should probably get to work. Zimm won't have much time till someone else comes knocking. Commander, thank you, and Rhea I'll see you later tonight." He taps off something resembling a salute and heads for the hatch. Not listening to the personal stuff, la la la.

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