Temper, Temper
Temper, Temper
Summary: Night in the Taproom. Reeves and Zaharis nearly get into a fight. Reed shows off that geekery we all love.
Date: 11 BCH (2 November 2008)
Related Logs: None
Players:
Reeves..Greje..Reed..Zaharis..Lakis..

Taproom Support Station PAS - Deck 1
11 BCH 2235 Souls


This large, open area was once a secondary observation platform. It has been taken over by quasi official forces and made into a drinking establishment known as the Taproom. A bar running along the inner wall is stocked with bottles and a solar cell has been taken apart, giving the back of the wall a high mirror finish, reflecting the bottles and the rest of the room. The outer wall is transparent, and unless a Condition status requires the lowering of the shielding, the glow of the stars and TER-745 is visible through the windows. Several tables and chairs are about the area and hidden speakers play music from some player hidden away. At the bar is a menu set up for anyone to read. <+detail here/menu>


Dressed for duty, Lt Reeves makes his way into the taproom. The upper half of his flightsuit is undone to give some more freedom and add that little extra 'lazy' feel to it all. He runs a hand over his shaven chin in the search for someone or something.

The taproom's quiet tonight. Zaharis is sitting at the bar by himself, a glass of whiskey with ice by his elbow and a cigarette smouldering away in an ashtray. He flips idly through some magazine, though at the lazy speed he's turning pages, he's not really reading the text.

Greje hustles into the taproom, energy in her step, wearing the sorts of casual clothes she usually does when not required to be in some sort of uniform, as well as a pair of headphones, a powerful rendition of the Seventeenth Paean sung by the Delphic Precinct Choir blasting away off of a recording and making the priest beam a little bit, swerve in her path and sing along just under her breath as the song reaches crescendo, setting her heart racing.

Upon seeing Zaharis, the young Lt makes his way over towards the Captain. On his way over Reeves looks over towards the bar and motions that he'd like a cup of coffee delivered to the table in question. "Doc..Wrongway, told me I'm answering to you when not on active duty..Soo." he makes a quick salute. "Lt Rabbit reporting..Doc." It is quite easy to see that the Pilot is not enjoying the position he is in right now.

Zaharis has picked up his drink, in the middle of raising it for a sip when he hears Reeves. His dark eyes turn and stare at the pilot for a second, salute not returned. "Lieutenant, what the frak is wrong with you? The time to report for Sickbay detail is when I'm…oh just maybe…in -Sickbay-."

With a hearty kch-chock as Greje presses the 'stop' button on the hand-held player, the 'play' button pops up and the music comes to a jarring halt. Greje's other hand slips the headphoned down around her neck, and her mouth opens as if about to emit some chipper greeting to Jesse, but, seeing he's in the middle of talking to someone, she closes her mouth again and sits by, suddenly meek and quiet.

Reeves curls his lips into a smug grin as he looks at Zaharis. "My orders were not to report to Sickbay..My orders were to report to CMO Zaharis for further duty..Soo thats what is frakking wrong with me Doc." One of the waitstaff moves over to Reeves with a cup of coffee. A quick exchange of words and then the waitstaff returns back to the bar, and Reeves takes a sip on his coffee as he looks at Zaharis. "That is my dilemma."

Reed has arrived.

"Great, a smartass." Zaharis doesn't grin back, picking up his cigarette. "I'm off duty. So until such time as I return to duty, which would be in Sickbay and not a -bar-, you can take your dilemma, and sit and spin for a couple hours. Clear?"

Zaharis is sitting at the bar with a drink and cigarette, talking to Reeves who's just approached him and saluted.

Greje bites one side of her lower lip, as if fearing Jesse or his interlocutor might explode. She tries vaguely to lift a hand to interject, but seems timid to do so, perhaps in light of recent events.

"Not a smartass Doc, a pilot." Reeves mutters after lowering his cup of coffee. But he nods his head slowly and shrugs his shoulders. "I'll put in a request for you to have another pilot at your disposal..Enjoy your drink..-doc-" he then turns to move over towards the bar to savour his coffee. "Barkeep, seen Manny around?"

Reed enters the Taproom with a medium full clipboard under one arm. as he crosses the threshold, he reaches up, opening the collar of his duty shirt, letting the front flap hang free slipping off duty, regardless of the face he brought paperwork with him. He takes a look about, scratching his head and moving towards the bar in a general fashion.

"Oh no, Lieutenant. Not another. -You-." Zaharis comments after a drag on his cigarette. "Sickbay, oh eight hundred." He exhales smoke, setting the smoke back down and retrieving his glass. He notices Greje about that time on his other side, raising an eyebrow.

Greje smiles meekly as she's spotted, awkwardly converting her hand lifted in objection to a sort of flutter of a wave. "Hello, Jesse," she greets finally. "I hope everything's alright here?" she presses a little, glancing between the two with a look of serious worry.

"Dont hold your breath, Doc..I'll see when I can make time..I may put in for some extra drills." Reeves calls over his shoulder. He wrinkles his nose as the Bartender shakes his head in reply to the previous question. "Frakk." As the Major comes near the bar, Reeves nods his head slowly and then returns to his coffee.

Reed slows his steps as he approaches the bars airspace, looking at the faces of the people present and quickly deduces.. tension. He places the clipboard on the bartop and leans against the bar, just outside the theatre of incident, and watches, eyes bright and sharp, though he doesn't speak or interrupt yet. His presence is plainly made known, but not forced into the discussion.

Zaharis replies to Reeves, shortly. "From what I hear, you need it." He looks back at Greje, sipping his drink. "Fine. Everyone's just trying to relax, it's cool. How are you?" His eyes flicker to Reed hanging about, and he raises his glass that way. "Carter."

Greje looks quietly but frankly at Jesse as he replies, obviously not convinced but conflicted as to whether she ought to pursue the line of inquiry or simply help try to get the group past it. "I'm fine, Jesse, thank you," she replies simply, before turning her eyes toward Reeves, "I'm not sure we've met," she tells him in a warm and, at this point, awkwardly affable tone, inviting conversation on the other side of the hovering tension.

"What!" Reeves slams his coffee cup into the barcounter, spending coffee flying, and then turns to look at Zaharis. "Is your frak'ing issue. Doc..You saying I'm behind the power curve..Where did you hear that Frakkhead?"

Lakis comes in from Passageway.
Lakis has arrived.

Reeds eyes track a splash of coffee as it flies from Reeves' cup through the air to impact back on the bar. He seems to be listening, however, as one hand casually reaches back to his clipboard, and he picks it back up, movements deliberate and slow, as he looks back to Reeves as the man becomes adjitated. Still, he doesn't step in, yet. just watches the Chaplain and Captain, free hand moving up to the flap of his duty shirt, toying with the button on the edge of the loose hanging fabric.

Lakis walks into Ye Olde Taproom doing a long stretch with arms over her head and half a yawn escaping. Her arms drop and she begins heading across the room to find something to drink and/or eat. A lazy look goes to the bar area now as there seems to be some disturbance in the force.

"Excuse me, -Lieutenant Junior Grade-?" Zaharis stands up from his barstool, ignoring the splashes of coffee. "You'd best watch your goddamn mouth and do it fast before you get yourself into some serious shit. Make your choice."

"Get yourself another pilot.." Reeves nearly spits the words as he stares at Zaharis. Anger flares in the eyes of the young Pilot. "Who the frak are you to put down on my piloting skills..What, toss me in the brig, I rather sit there then follow your orders..-Doctor-..Soo, arrest me..Or I'm going to the CAG to request a new assignment..This is frakking bull.. I did what I was ordered to do, and you give me nothing but frak'ing shit for it.." he shakes his head and starts to move towards the exit.

Greje takes the opportunity of Jesse moving off of his barstool to slip up onto the stool, herself, slipping herself handily between the two increasingly irate officers, as if to prevent physical conflict from breaking out, lifting a hand toward Reeves as if about to address him in calm, measured words before he shoots his mouth off and storms out. Pressing her lips together, she turns back toward Jesse, unable to help but look a little cross. "Jesse…" she begins, her voice not connoting anger, more… -disappointment.-

Lakis mutters something under her breath about 'Officers Dead Ahead', and veers off to the left or right, depending on which is the safest course at the moment. A hop on the barstool and her hands come out to lay flat and fingers doing a rolling tap as she gives her order to the bartender, "Looks like coffee au lait with a shot of Picon dark rum. Hold the coffee. Keep the milk. A batch of hot, greasy fries with a side of kelp dressing, salt and pepper, some Bay seasoning and melty, fabricated cheese."

Reed lifts a hand to the Bartender, eyes watching the increasingly heated confrontation, forestalling him from filling Lakis' order. The bartender pauses, motioning a waitress to handle Lakis and her food, while the bartender continues watching things. As Greje slides into the conflict zone. Reed merely continues to watch, he just seems to want the bartender ready to receive orders should any come down.

"Choice made." Zaharis says under his breath. As Reeves heads out, he sits back down and just picks up his cigarette, knocking ash off it with his fingers. Greje's tone goes unanswered.

Reeves leaves for Passageway [O].
Reeves has left.

Greje shakes her head. "Did you really -need- to insult him, Jesse?" she asks him, the question firmly lodged somewhere between actual and rhetorical. She's sitting in his seat, at this point, so presumably he took either hers or Reeves'. Unless he's trying to sit on her.

Lakis receives her drink and watches as the pilot heads out of the taproom, then a graze of a look over the other officers. Just a little sneaky eavesdropping, it seems. The drink is tipped up and she swallows some as the fries arrive right on time.

Reed lowers his hand leaning against the bar once more. "I came late, apparently." He looks between Greje and Zaharis, trusting that in the fullness of time, information will trickle his way. He places the clipboard he has back on the bar and watches the CMO and Chaplain.
You paged Greje with 'Oh that was you? Hee'

"Hate to see what happens when he gets shot at." Zaharis' tone is a little flat, his mood quite different than usual today. He picks up his drink, downing the rest of it before he nods to Reed. "Sorry about the commotion, Major."

Greje presses her lips together, "I'm not sure how that's applicable here, Jesse. You two are supposed to be on the same side," she points out gently, her brow furrowing as she leans closer, "Are you alright, Jesse?" she wonders, picking up on his foul mood.

"Guess I missed all the commotion," Lakis comments and picks up a drippy fry to chew on. She continues to glance between the three, making a longer look at Greje for the time being. "Must be nice to get to wear civilian clothes. Where do I sign up for that?"

Reed looks to Zaharis, "Commotion, that can be handled. I know I missed something because the first solid thing I heard in the exchange was you telling him Sickbay, oh-eight hundred. Now being the CMO, the chaplain here would be the only one who could say anything about that order because the next step up from you in the hierarchy of medical authority would be Asclepius." He names the god of Medicine. Looking to Zaharis, "But I trust that you're going to handle things satisfactorily, so I didn't step in. He didn't do anything that would have caused me to come down on the situation like taking a swing, so, it's still your problem, Doctor." He looks to Lakis, "When you re-up." He advises the woman.

"CAG and XO's problem," Zaharis corrects Reed, after a swallow of whiskey. "I'm done with it." He glances at Greje and merely says, "Fine." Then a look at Lakis, flipping through his mental files. "How's the leg doing, Private?"

Greje leans back again and settles her cheek on her hand, leaning on the bar and still looking concerned on Jesse's behalf, but she lets the matter drop, now that there are others congregating about the spot. She smiles wanly at Reed, "I'm afraid Asclepius never joined up," she points out, a hint of jocularity in her voice. "I'm not here to order anyone around," she states, glancing to Jesse again, "Just to help where and when I can."

Lakis thumbs-up with her fry to the Doc as her mouth is chewing at the moment. She then swallows and glances to Reed with a 'what?' look, then back to Zaharis, "Doing fine, sir, I've been strengthening it up like I was told." She holds her leg out, not that anything can be seen due to pants and boot.

Reed nods to Greje, "Yeah, true there." About which part of what the woman said, he doesn't elaborate, then looks to Zaharis, "You know more about it than I do, I just came to enjoy the sctual science I get to do." He looks at his clipboard before looking to Lakis, "You want to wear civvie clothes, you talk to the officer when you re-up.." He waves it off, "Nevermind, not funny if you have to explain it. I had a catastrophic joke failure on that one."

Zaharis half-laughs at Reed, his breath briefly fogging the inside of his glass while he drinks the rest. Cubes clink and he sets it down, motioning for the bartender to refill it. He looks down at Lakis' leg, fully clothed as it is, and gives her a nod. "Good job. Be ship-shape in no time."

Greje turns back to the bar with a sort of bashful smile offered to Lakis before she presses her lips into a firm line and seriously considers a drink. Finally just tipping her head gently to the side to indicate Jesse, she quietly indicates that she'll have the same.

Marines do have a dense head. Lakis nods and shrugs to Reed, "Aye, Sir." The rest of the milk-laced dark rum is downed and she sets the glass back on the bar with a clink of icecubes. Wiping her fingers on a napkin at the last second instead of her uniform. A sideglance goes back to Greje, "You work in the chapel?" Knowing she's seen her somewhere as she floated about the ship.

Reed smiles, watching the others at the bar, and turns to his clipboard, flipping through a few octagonal pages and pulling a pen, curcling a couple things and drawing lines, then making notes as he goes through the papers.

Zaharis picks up his drink when it comes, resting his free arm across the bar. He doesn't say anything more as Lakis asks Greje questions, giving the liquor its due attention.

Greje looks up from the bartop and nods her head gently to Lakis, "Yes, there, and I have a corner of the Naval Offices where I do a great deal of my work," she picks up the whiskey when it comes and stirs it vaguely with its wee straw before lifting the straw to the opposite rim of the glass and taking a sip. "I must have seen you in the Sickbay while you were under care."

Lakis snaps her fingers, which don't snapto well with the fry goo. She wipes them off and bobs her head quickly, "That's right. Saving the poor souls moving on to..wherever." She goes a bit silent then and orders another drink and stuffs a few more fries in her mouth.

Reed flips up another paper, smiling as he makes a few more notes on his papers, not being at all secretive about what he's doing and looking like he's enjoying himself as one might enjoy a good crossword.

Zaharis closes the magazine that he'd been flipping through before Reeves showed up, pushing it down the bar for someone else to tear up. He glances at Reed's scribbling and then back at the rows of bottles behind the bar, sipping his whiskey.

Greje looks down at the magazine pushed along the way, not really looking at it so much as looking past it, giving a slight nod and adding meekly, "And hopefully doing some good for those who pulled through, as well." Her eyes focus on the magazine, then, as if suddenly discovering it, and she flips through a few pages quietly as she continues to nurse the whiskey.

It takes a little bit, but finally Zaharis pulls his attention out of his glass enough to glance at Reed's papers again. "What are you up to, Carter?"

Reed flips up another sheet of paper, and looks at it, making a few notes, and blinking, "Molecular striations." He mutters and flips back a few pages, comparing something with something else. He looks to Zaharis, and grins, "Science. All this time doing administrative work and Captain Zimmerman asked me to do real gods honest Science." He flips through the paperwork, "Mass spectrometer readouts Gas chromatiscope findings, molecular bonding levels, electron interconnection of ionic linkage."

Lakis takes up the drink when it arrives and kicks back a healthy dose, "Major, that sounds painful. I hope the doc there has a shot for it," she offers a grin and wipe her lip off with the side of her hand.

Greje takes her attention away from the ads on the page and brightens to see Reed's enthousiasmos. She takes another sip of the whiskey and then sets it down, twining her arms together and interlacing her fingers after her usual fashion as she listens with a smile. "What are you looking for?" she wonders.

"Yeah?" Zaharis asks with that tone of someone who's not got much clue what all that means, but it sounds interesting anyway. He fishes a cigarette from his pack, picking up the mostly-used matchbook lying beside the ashtray. "I don't know about where these two studied, but talk to me like I'm in 10th grade for minute. What do you do with all that?" He glances at Lakis and smirks. The whiskey's kicking in nicely, his shoulders already much more relaxed than they were earlier.

Reed grins to the Marine, Chaplain and Doctor. He's happy to be doing this and it's just showing through him, "Metalurgical analysis. I am looking into the weapon that struck down poor Sparky in the prime of his little bouy life."

Lakis takes out some of her script to pay for the food and drinks. She even adds in a tip and slides off the barstool, turning to head off from the taproom with a 'Sirs' to the officers, as she goes.

Greje gives Lakis a warm smile and a wave as she goes, warming as much under Reed's good mood as she'd gotten trampled underfoot by Jesse's foul one. "Oh!" she replies to Reed, "So… looking at how much energy was pumped into the atoms by looking at how excited the electrons are acting, and how that's affecting how the atoms link together?" she surmises. It's been a while since first-level university chemistry, but she remembers that much.

Lakis leaves for Passageway [O].
Lakis has left.

"That's the buoy they picked up couple weeks ago?" Zaharis lights his cigarette and waves out the match, tossing it into the tray. "How's progress?"

Reed nods to Greje, "That's part of it, yes. Definitely an aspect these tests cover." He looks to Zaharis, "Yes, it is. Well, I was handed the Metallurgical analysis aspect yesterday, and I'm translating the readouts to see what I can present the Captain, and give here to let her make a complete whole from it. there's a lot more to the investigation than just this, so I'm not sure how the overall progress is."

Greje smiles. "Well, that's exciting," she presents her opinion. "Being able to get down into the details like that." She takes another sip of her whiskey. "It's amazing how the secrets of the universe unfold to the person with the knowledge to decode them." She's smiling, now, vaguely absent-eyed as she ponders the notion and sets her glass, emptied of all but ice, aside. When someone comes by to offer a refill, she holds her hand briefly over the top of the cup to signify that she's finished, her cheeks already nicely flushed.

Zaharis sets his glass down on the counter as said refill person goes by, indicating the near-empty tumbler. He'll take it. "Sounds like they know how to make Rhea happy. That's good. We trust you guys to get it done without lethally static charging every door handle in the place."

Reed grins to Zaharis, "We never lethally charge the door handles.. by accident." He looks to Greje, and nods, "It's fascinating, really, makes me feel like a Scientist again." He does in fact look energized. "I should get back to the lab, and check over these notes, and finish the report for the Captain once I finalize my work. I think I came down here for some cheese sticks, but I forgot about that with what's happened.

"Have them send you over some." Zaharis suggests, twisting the cigarette in the ashtray. "By gods what's the point of Major rank if you can't even get room service."

Greje grins at Reed, energized vicariously. Oh yes, her electrons are going all sorts of fun things. "Have fun. Good luck to you and the team getting to the bottom of this," she smiles in an attempt to be helpful in her own limited capacity.

Reed chuckles to Zaharis, "I can't enforce the no food or drink in the Labs regulations if I violate them myself. Trust me, the last thing you want to do in a laboratory, is lick the spoon." He looks to Greje, sliding off the stool, "Thank you."

"I'm in Infectious Diseases, Carter. You don't have to tell me twice." Zaharis nods the man. "Good luck."

Reed gives a slight wave and is off in a rush of scientific enthusiasm.

Reed leaves for Passageway [O].
Reed has left.

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