Sheep in Marine Clothing
Sheep in Marine Clothing
Summary: MacGregor introduces himself to Sickbay.
Date: 3/20/09
Related Logs: None


Sickbay Genesis - Deck 13

126 ACH 24277 Souls

The medical facility is large enough to hold a few dozen beds. Each bed is set with a curtain for privacy, a chair near the bed and any monitoring or medical aids needed. A nurses desk sits at the front near the hatch and a surgery area, Medical Officers area and supplies are on the far wall behind the desk. Nurses, doctors and medics man this area at any time day or night. Visiting hours are usually kept to the day and evening schedules, unless stated otherwise by medical staff.

----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-

Contents: MacGregor Melia Tais Medical Charts Memorial Board

Wireless 1492

Exits: [CMO] CMOs Office [O] Corridor

[M] Morgue [PO] Psychiatry Office

[RW] Recovery Ward

Special: +lhelp - Local Help Available


Tais's feet are resting on the desks surface, a finger lifting to fit her glasses more securely to her face as she reads over the lab results from the morgue and its occupants. Glancing up, a brief smile is offered to Melia and the one accompanying her.

And in through the Sickbay door comes bouncing Mellie. She looks tired - and has since quarter rations - and is moving a little more slowly than usual, but the bright smile is in place. Clearly she's in a good mood, despite the text book she's lugging. "Evening, Lieutenant," she calls brightly to Tais. "Coffee?" There's a hopeful note to her voice, rather the same tone cats use when they demand to be fed.

MacGregor comes in through the hatch, not really with Melia, but looking perplexed, "I must have missed a frame…" he says, almost to himself, as he almost collides with Melia, who is probably less than half his mass, and close to thirteen inches shorter. Easily overlooked. He catches himself before he squashes her like a bug on the bulkhead of a Battlestar, when she mentions wanting coffee. He looks at Melia like she's adled, "Nobody has coffee…" he says, looking much less the worse for the quarter rations than smaller folk.

Tais lifts a quizzical brow towards Melia, wondering why she's still on half rations. If the ship has coffee, certainly they procured a viable food source, if not several from the Peerless. "Coffee in abundance for the moment," is the intro before continuing, "Unless I need to order you to eat, Ensign?" Turning towards the Marine, she gestures towards the large carafe holding a gallon or more of the dark brew.

There's a squeak as she's nearly stepped on by MacGregor, but even that doesn't stop Mellie's smile. "Evening, Master Sergeant," she says with a broad smile. "Care for a cup of coffee? Lieutenant Pomona has just made my day." Side-stepping, she heads over toward the carafes. "No, you don't need to order me to eat, Lieutenant," she tells Tais, dropping the book with a thud. "I've just not been all that hungry. I'm eating, I promise." When she remembers. The book is probably a good indicator of what's distracting her.

The CMO's door opens and Zaharis steps out with a few files in the crook of his left arm. They get promptly dumped on the counter of the duty nurse's station, all signed and noted in his neat handwriting.

MacGregor quirks a brow, "You do realize that the standing order for half rations hasn't been lifted…" he says. Shaking his head, "I'll pass on the coffee. Doesn't seem right to have a cup when lots of people don't have any for themselves." He smiles to Melia, "What are you reading?" he asks, "It's good to see you again Ensign." and nods to the others present, "Sorry to intrude, I made a wrong turn."

Tais smiles silently, lifting her mug to her mouth to take a slow draw. Her way of bucking the system, sticking it to the man, whatever connotation she chooses to put to it. The liquid is hot and thick, just the way the med team likes it. Nor has she moved from her comfortable position of her feet propped on the desk. She's read enough lab results to go blind, the coffee jolt rebooting her synapsis periodically. A nod, "Major." If anyone's looking at her for snappy salutes, they have most definitely come to the wrong corridor.

Melia was in the process of pouring herself a cup of coffee. Spotting Zaharis, though, she pauses and pours a second one, carrying the first over to the Major without hesitation. "It does," she tells MacGregor. "But, well, I'm taking advantage of the fact we have it for a cup. Organic chemistry. I start anatomy and physiology next week, hopefully."

Sickbay isn't a place one regularly salutes. Too many objects in hands at any given moment. Zaharis looks mildly surprised at the coffee in Melia's hand, reaching for the cup. "Logistics has their priorities, I see. Feet off the desk, Lieutenant." He clicks his pen shut and his eyes glance over the unfamiliar man in BDU's. "There are worse places to make wrong turns into, Master Sergeant, despite what others may tell you."

MacGregor nods "Typically, I try and stay as far away from sick bay as possible, but over the years I've found myself stuck a few times…To the tune of eight bullet wounds, and a myriad of knife, shrapnel and other random blunt force traumas…" He smirks, "I try and uphold the best tradition of the marines…" He offers his hand to the Major first, then to the Lieutenant at the desk, "Master Sargeant MacGregor…"

Tais uses her mug in a mock acknowledgment to her superior, Colonial issue shoes slipping from the desk, her look darkening slightly. If there were but she and the CMO here, more than likely a tongue would appear briefly. Her pen is waved between thumb and forefinger as she ponders the results and then the end is used to push her glasses more securely to the bridge of her nose. A brisk, though thorough contemplation of the Master Sergeant confirms him to be in good health, brusque and one to easily take charge in any given situation. A silent nod and she returns to the business at hand. When the hand is offered in her direction, a glance over the top of her eye glass frames, a relinquishing of her pen and her hand is swallowed by his.

And the Ensign is left out of the introductions, which seems to suit her just fine - if she even notices. Once Zaharis has coffee in hand, she bounces back toward the coffee carafe and her textbook. The book is scooped under her arm and she retreats toward the desk being occupied by Tais.

"Major Jesse Zaharis," Zaharis shakes MacGregor's hand once, firmly, and lets go. He nods to Tais and then towards Melia. "Lieutenant Tais Pomona and Ensign Melia Sullivan. You new aboard, Master Sergeant? I don't think I've seen you before."

MacGregor chuckles "I was on the original marine detail to the station…I've been rotated through most of the other ships over my time here, but this is the first time I've rotated to Genesis." He shrugs, "There's always something for an experienced, motivated marine to do, and I'm a rifleman by specialty, just a grunt, so I don't have many special skills that need preserving." He smiles, "Though, I've been taking flight training over the last five or six years, and I'm finally at the point I might be good enough to go mustang, if they ever get stort on stick jocks."

Tais looks at the sheer size of the man, eyes widening, impressed in his desire to fly. She's hoping Raptors, but if the man is Viper material, she's doubly impressed. Wide greenish eyes are contained within the dark frames. With a soft exhalation of breath, she continues to make addendums to the charts.

Melia finds herself a perch and dips her head to MacGregor, smile warming. "Gunny introduced us, Major," she calls quietly. Her head tilts as she listens to MacGregor's story, attentive and curious, rather like a bright-eyed little bird.

"Hell of a road," Zaharis says, nodding once. "I was mustanged, myself, as was the Ensign here," he tips his head towards Melia. "Granted, sure not for piloting. I assume you mean Vipers; never heard a Raptor man refer to his own folk as 'stick jocks'."

MacGregor shrugs and grins "I don't know, I'm still trying to work out where I fit in the greater scheme, just been flying whatever shuttle or cargo hauler I can get my hands on. I've done some time in Raptor sims, and even flown one once. I wish I could fly a Viper, but they don't come in fifty-two long, and they're not tailored either." He finds a spot against a bulkhead to lean, "I don't know, I like flying, but endeavors that require lots of brain power have never been my strong suit. It took me five years of Univerity before I figured out I was never going to graduate, and I dropped out…"

Tais says, "You should have been grandfathered into the graduating class just for kudos in sticking it out." Another notation, close of the chart and on to the next, "Some people don't even get that far before they recognize that fact."

Melia glances over at Tais as she speaks up and grins wryly, though doesn't comment. She simply sits where she is, legs not quite long enough to reach the ground, ankles crossed and legs swinging slightly. The mug is cradled in both hands, hands wrapped around it as if for warmth.

Zaharis shrugs one shoulder. "Half of university is sheer tenacity, if I remember right. All the bullshit about intelligence is really secondary to one's persistence. As in most areas. So tell me, if you become a pilot, whose side are you going to fight on the next time the pilots go up against the Marines in boxing?"

MacGregor grins "Once a marine, always a marine, sir." He considers, "I could have kept going to university forever, I don't know that I would have ever finished…I was a mediocre student at the best of times, even in secondary school. I'd probably still be looking for a direction to go in life if I hadn't been given the choice between jail, and the corps…"

Melia's lips twitch a little at something - yes, she's bemused. She takes a sip of her coffee and cocks her head slightly to the side. "So we'd have a Marine in Navy clothing. Is that anything like a sheep in wolf's clothing," she asks, trying for an innocent look.

The scars on Zaharis' face tighten as he smirks at Melia's choice of words. He comments to MacGregor, more seriously, "Well, whatever choices you've made, they've ended you here. Which in some skewed way I'd guess means you made the right ones."

MacGregor shrugs one massive shoulder faintly, "I've already said my prayers to the gods for finding a path for me. I have a debt to pay that'll still be unfulfilled when I die." and pauses, lost in a moment of recollection, then shakes it off and smirks to Melia, "Wolf in sheep's clothing, little one. Marines are /always/ the wolves…" and winks, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

Melia glances over at Zaharis, grinning impishly, then looks up at MacGregor, a brow arching ever so delicately. "Not quite so sure about that, Master Sergeant," she murmurs quietly. "I've known a few Marines who were just plain…" She trails off, hesitating for just a moment. Wait for it…wait for it…and cue pun: "Baaaaad."

Zaharis sighs into his coffee cup as he lifts it for a sip. "Why can't I have normal children?"

MacGregor smirks "May you live in interesting times…" he says to the Major, then looks down at Melia, "You know it's all about getting the right lure…Even wolves like a bit of wool now and again." and winks, "You got to learn how to get them close enough to fleece them."

Melia shoots Zaharis a beaming smile. "You didn't punish us enough when we were little," she tells him, affecting a solemn look. Then her attention bounces back to MacGregor and she gives him A Look. It's one of those considering looks, as if she's plotting something. "Actually," she murmurs after a moment. "It's really not that difficult to get close enough to fleece a Marine. The problem is what to do with the fleece afterward."

"You know, I think I'm due in surgery," Zaharis says, as they start trickling down lines of fleecing Marines. "Nice meeting you, Master Sergeant. Ensign, let me know when you're finished with those last exercises and we'll go over them."

MacGregor chuckles "The other problem is surviving the experience. Smart ass sheep think they're clever, right up til they get eaten." and nods to Zaharis, "Pleased to meet you as well Major." he says, then looks back to Melia, "I'll be keeping an eye out for you now, you're one of those troublemaker squids…" and grins, "Sir, ma'am, if you'll excuse me…I think it's time to hit the rack before duty."

Melia straightens as Zaharis mentions the schoolwork and dips her head. "Aye, Sir," she says quietly. "Working on the last set tonight, Sir." Of course her eyes are glimmering with mischief when she looks up at MacGregor. "You do that, Master Chief," she murmurs, dipping her head. "It was a pleasure to meet you again." Off her perch she slides, taking a sip of her coffee as she goes. Looks like breaktime is over.

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