Wheels Within Wheels
Wheels Within Wheels
Summary: Funky philosophy, exchanges of laundry, and lobbying for skates abound. Reed gets a wireless call.
Date: 13 BCH
Related Logs: None

Zaharis nods slowly, like people do when they're listening to a really good song. Partly because he's listening to her and partly because one hand is stealing one of her soggy cookies. "Crafts the staff, baby. Preach it again." Pop goes the cookie into his mouth. He's sitting at a booth, next to Adele, with Greje opposite them bearing a plate of milk-drenched cookies. "What did the mermaids think indeed. Hopefully not 'Ow, that hurt'."

D'Artanion comes in from Passageway.
D'Artanion has arrived.

Greje dunks the other half of her cookie into the milk, "They sang. Lifted their hands in prayer, and sang the song of Phryxis, and danced the choral steps: Peitho and Admete and Ianthe and Electra, and Doris and Prymno and Ouranie, beautiful as a goddess, and Hippo and Klymene and Rhodeia and Lakkirhoe, and Sdeuxo and Klytie and Idyia and Peisithoe, and Plexaure and Galaxaure and lust-inspiring Dione, and Melobosis and Thoe and comely Polydora…"

Adele has grown silent, listening to Greje with a furrowed, inquisitive brow. From time to time she sneaks a glance at Zaharis, as if attempting to analyze his expressions and reactions to the priestess. There is a gentle nudge to his side as he swipes one of her cookies.

"Bitchin'." Zaharis swipes another half-cookie from Greje's plate, and gets nudged. He lofts both brows at Adele and offers the morsel to her, like 'what, yo?'. "Hey padre. Going to demonstrate that singing, or do you need some backup dancers first?" Yes it's teasing, but not meanly so.

Rhea enters the Taproom, her child in tow. Though 12-year-old Reece Zimmermann is nearly as tall as she is, so he doesn't look terribly spawn-like. He's expounding on some point as they enter, lobbying passionately. "…I'm telling you, the corridors here are perfectly designed for it. They're…aerodynamic. I bet the Major would think it was cool. He could use it to…do experiments. And stuff." Rhea just keeps walking, stone-faced, and deadpans, "No."

The door to the Taproom opens and D'Artanion swings in. She looks around the room for a moment before spotting her quary sitting all innocent and unassuming with others. But, they will not protect him from Marine efficiency, no. Walking that way, she presents a vastly different image today than she did last night. Gone is the satin and lace. Gone is the soft hair style. Now, she is effectiveness personified. Or, if not personified, at least believably mimiced. Rhea and Spawn enter and distract her from her prey. Might be the Spawn's earnestness, or maybe the description of his intents, or his mother's forceful reply. Curiosity killed the cat, even if Miss Kitty survived and D'Artanion has that quality in spades… But, she is a woman on a mission, so sidesteps the mother-son pair for now. When she reaches the table where the cookies and milk are being swiped and shared, she pauses, "Excuse me, Doc." The voice of doom, calling the poor man from pleasent pasttimes to persnickity professionalism.

Zaharis is indeed quite comfortable, what with an empty sundae glass on the table in front of him and a cookie in Adele's face. He half-winces when he hears D'artanion's tone, rolling his head a little to look up at the Marine. "When I'm off-duty I charge for consults by the syllable, Sarge. Fair warning."

Adele doesn't look like she's going to be taking the cookie in her face any time soon; it goes on ignored while Adele's gaze sweeps from the expressive Greje to Zaharis, then up to D'Artanion. She hasn't spotted Rhea and Reece yet, so focused is she on these three people nearest her.

Greje, interrupted in her catalogue of nymphs, hiccups once and goes back to chewing on her cookie, finishing the one off and licking the crumbs off of her fingers. "It was then, when the Argo passed from hand to hand across the sea, following the Phryxian hymn, when that first pine from that tall hill was felled and brought to the shore, that mermaid eyebeam mingled, mixed with mortal," she murmurs as she does so. "Hm?" she suddenly wonders. "A hymn?" she asks of Jesse.

Rhea and her son both pause as D'artanion passes them. Rhea to attempt to wave and offer some kind of greeting. The adolescent, to do some gawking at the blonde medic. And the blonde preacher, and blonde scientist. He cranes his neck up to offer Zaharis a rather impressed look. /Nice./ His mother appears to miss this, which is probably for the best. Rhea looks for a table. She angles to a table near Adele and the doctor, though doesn't make to join them.

D'Artanion says, "Not my fault, Doc." Though she nods an apology to Adele, her expression remains focused. "Frak, I'm not even supposed to be here, but this is urgent." Lifting a handheld, she offers it to Zaharis along with a stylus. The document displayed when it is thumbed on is one of those 'by CMO order only' things. Probably a dicey prescription or procedural thing. "Needs your signature and there wasn't anyone else to send." Then, marine efficiency is interrupted by the listing of nymphs and religious tales. Her gaze lifts to the Priest and she half smiles, "You're going to sing, ma'am? Now, that is something to hear." At length, she flashes a smile over her shoulder to Rhea and the Boy-child, "Evening, ma'am. Uh… Reece, isn't it?" Despite the greetings, she is paying attention to the doctor and tries to be patient. Looking back, she adds to him, "If you have to charge someone, put it on the patient's bill.""

Adele returns D'Artanion's apologetic nod with a half-smile and a lift of one shoulder. When the Marine mentions the name 'Reece,' the willowy woman swivels her neck to spot Rhea standing near a table by them. "Hey," she greets them both, looking slightly bewildered.

Zaharis looks at the side of Adele's face with a smirk and, his beautiful gift going ignored, he reaches over to hand the half-cookie to Reece instead. "Hey, kid. Take this and squirrel it away for your retirement. You won't regret it. Don't let your mother see. Erased all my Tetris scores yet?" A soft 'hmm' at Greje and he's about to say something, but appears to change his mind as he notices how the place is filling. "Uh, hm. Maybe something a bit lighter, chap. I could make a kazoo out of this straw for you." Then D'art has his full attention as she brings up work, and he reaches up for the handheld. Taken down, he glances at the screen with a slight furrow of his dark brows before he scribbles his signature on the bottom. "Oh, yes. They need to ease her off the cirosporin before they start this. Make sure they understand that. I'm going to write it, maybe even a couple times just to be sure, but make -sure- they do it."

"Amalina!" Greje suddenly calls out, abandoning the cookies, milk, and all and wrapping her arms around the woman's waist in a fond squeeze. "How -are- you?" she asks, brow furrowing in a concerned look as she pulls back.

"Reece. Right. Hi," the boy replies to D'Artanion. Grinning at the fact that his reputation precedes him. He takes a second to look at her pins before adding, "…Sergeant." He knows military pins, at least. Another "Hey, Doctor Pike" is offered to Adele, as he's reaching over to snatch the cookie from Zaharis. "Almost. Your top nine were easy to knock off. Haven't beaten the high one yet, though. What's with her?" He seems to mean Greje and her nymphs. Rhea smirks faintly, though she's eyeing the chaplain more than her spawn. "You can't get away, can you?" she says simply to the CMO, tone dry.

D'Artanion nods, "Right. Ease off the cirosporin before starting. Got it." Her tone is one of those 'making a mental note' ones that some people use to fix memory where it should be rather than let it wander around aimlessly. Taking the handheld back, she presses a few buttons and the signed order is sent via digital and wireless owls winging back to sickbay. Lifting a hand, she does a quick salute for even if Zaharis and the others are off duty, she is not. The turn she planned would have been graceful and show off a little military precision, but it is arrested by Greje's hug. D'Artanion startles at the gregarious and entirely unexpected greeting. Her brows rise a bit, "Uh. I'm just fine, ma'am. Thanks." One hand falls almost automatically to smooth Greje's hair, though it leaves the woman's head when she pulls back, "Though not as fine as you are, by the sound'f things. Good to see you…" A slightly lopsided smile tugs at her lips, as she looks at the woman. A quick glance back toward Rhea and Reece, "Good job." Rhea, however, gets a quick wink, "You okay?"

Adele can't help but eavesdrop on Zaharis' instructions to D'Artanion, her gaze narrowing as she plays a little diagnosis guessing game with herself. This silent reverie is stopped short as she watches Greje greet D'Artanion and the Marine's reception of such a greeting. She glances sidelong at Zaharis, then to Rhea, a grin twitching her lips.

Greje leans back with an elbow against the table, holding out two fingers, palm up, in a gesture somewhere between a declarative and something more ritualistic. "I'm sorry we haven't been able to find a time to meet," she utters, sounding perfectly within her senses for the moment. "Would you like to talk?"

"Good. You can tell…" Zaharis glances at the handheld before he gives it back to D'art. "…Crozier that if I get back up there and she's showing any cardiac weakness whatsoever, I will put my foot so far up his ass that his grandchildren will be chewing on the leather. It is within your paygrade to quote me." He nods to the sarge and looks back at Reece, tone bouncing away from business in the blink of an eye. "And you're not going to beat that top score, either. Ever. Ever ever. If you do, I'll…" He ponders this. "I'll take you to the gym and let you can me in pyramid. But you won't. Totally not worried." Yeah-heh, take THAT, eleven-year-old-ego. "Rhea. Not hungover? I'm so proud of you."

Reed comes in from Passageway.
Reed has arrived.

Rhea gently elbows her son toward a chair. Encouraging him to sit rather than gawk at D'Artanion and Greje. He does sit, though the gawking continues as he scarfs the cookie. Reece doesn't seem terribly intimidated by Zaharis, gleefully busting on him. Adolescent to adolescent. "Am so! And I can kick your ass at Pyramid, too, old man. Anytime. I will /so/ take you down." He blinks, eyes lighting up at the hangover comment directed at Rhea. "/Mom/?" he gasps, laughing. Rhea's eyes narrow dangerously at Zaharis. "Reece, order something with meat on it. Jesse…no."

D'Artanion notes Adele's expression and may very well have an idea of what is going on within that brain of hers. Looking back at Greje she lifts one shoulder in a slight shrug, "No worries, ma'am. We'll find time." The offer is noted and D'Artanion mimics the gesture, but with her palm down in gentle negation, "Yes. But, not now, ma'am. You're having a nice time with friends. This can wait." Her tone is relaxed, easy, and fairly unconcerned. Turning a quick smile to Zaharis, she chuckles and there is just the faintest edge of 'evil glee' there, "I'll do that, sir and gladly." Her tone speaks eloquently of anticipation and a little delight. Maybe someone in sickbay has been more than usually annoying. Then again, a Marine in a Navy sickbay should expect a lot of headaches. "Oh, I've been reassigned to trauma duty, sir. So, unless you want me outta your hair, I'm there." Finally, she turns to Rhea and Reece, the friendly competition between son and friend noted. "Pyramid? You play?" Poor Rhea. "I'll see'f I can get Taylor to join a game. That'd be epic."

Reed enters the Taproom. Gone are the Toga, wig, lightning bolt and godly attitude. Apparently he got all the power trip that came from his recent promotion out of his system during the costume party. His duty shirt is open at the flap, showing his normal 'off duty' state. He moves to the bar, nodding to one of the waiters and waiting for his usual red iced drink as he looks over the current crop of people enjoying themselves.

Greje nods with approval at Amalina, reaching away from the table to tug another chair out from another one close by, in case Amalina wants to sit. "Pyramid…" she states quietly, trying to recall why she was thinking about pyramid recently. "Oh, right. The cookies," she remembers, tapping her lips with two fingers.

"Grease. Spoke too soon, I see." Zaharis narrows his eyes and gives Rhea a knowing nod as she tells her son what to order, then he smirks at Reece. "You couldn't take down a note, kid. Go on, I dare you. Make my day." Looking back at up D'art, he nods. "Got the busy shift, eh? Well, you know you can stay up there until you get sick of it." He filches Adele's water glass for a sip and sets it back down, regarding the other doctor and her thoughtfulness. He knows that look, and it's hardly up to another doctor to squelch the diagnostic urge. "Patient has to be weaned off cirosporin onto atraxin, running a fever of 102. Guess."

Reece is more than happy to regal D'Artanion about his Pyramid skills. "Oh, yeah. I was captain of my school team back on Picon. Well, co-captain. The other captain was the Commander's kid, but he was a total poser. I was the one they always passed the ball to. That'd be awesome! The Doc talks big, but he's a push-over." The boy, wisely, refrains from laughing at the banter between Rhea and Zaharis. He concentrates on waving down a waiter, to order some chicken wings. Rhea also scans about for a server. And spots Reed. "Major," she calls with a faint smile, raising a hand to wave.

Adele settles her hands in her lap, her grin becoming more pronounced as she listens to the interaction between mother and son, in the context of possible hangovers on the maternal end. She opens her mouth to comment, but the medical jargon that spills from Zaharis' lips catches her attention and she snaps her head back around to meet the challenge. "Internal bleeding spurred by niobium shrapnel. The patient is allergic to the alloy," she guesses after a moment of consideration. She arches her brows at the master.

D'Artanion shakes her head slightly at Greje, "But thanks. Leave's been revoked for the Marines, ma'am. I am not supposed to be over here. And, Captain Gaelan'll have my hide if he finds out I'm over here." She looks from the Priest to the plate, then reaches over to filch a cookie and lifts it to her mouth. The crunch is half stifled and she winks once at the woman. A nod is offered to Zaharis, "Yeah. S'okay, though. I'd rather be useful than not." Her smile turns grateful, "Thanks. I'll probably claim a cot in a closet again." When Zaharis quizes Adele, D'Artanion rolls her eyes, "That's not giving her enough info, Doc. I call foul." Turning, her gaze flickers back to Reece and Rhea, "Oh, yeah? That's pretty cool, actually. Glad to hear that you aren't a poser. I'll come see the match if I'm not on duty. And, I'll see if Taylor'll come too. You'll like him. He's a good guy." A good, ginormous mechanic, but hey. Spotting Reed, her smile eases a bit and she nods, "Evening, Major." Adele's guess is overheard and she hmms, a grin flashing back to the female doctor. The look does not linger, however as her attention returns briefly to Reed. "Good to see you, Major." Clearing her throat, she steps away from the group, "Unfortunately, I have to get back. I kinda like my hide where it is." Another glance that flickers about the group and she turns to head toward the door.

Reed takes his drink from the waiter, and turns to the call of his rank, smiling, as he heads in the direction of the group of staff officers and other troublemakers. As he approaches, something catches his attention, "Niobium alloy?" He frowns, "Niobium is primarily used in water reclamation systems, someone must have been next to a part of the recycling system." He shrugs, "Don't know my medicaine, but I know my metals." He looks to Dart and he smiles, "It was good to see you again, even briefly." He smiles, as she leaves, then looks back to the group.

"You call foul, I call hellishly challenging differential." Zaharis smirks at D'artanion. "No work in giving too many details." And as Adele spits that out, he motions to her with a rather triumphant look at the Staff Sergeant. "See? Duh." He sips from Adele's water glass agin and shakes a finger at her. "Niobium exactly. Showing pulmonary edema and adrenergic storm last night, it was ugly. This will do it though." He exhales slowly, offering her back her glass, and glances up at Reed. "Hey, Carter."

Greje puts a hand to the back of her head and smiles at Amalina in fond farewell before turning to Reed, "A water-permeable mineral named after the Niobe of scriptures, who was transformed into a weeping stone," she adds her own — useful? somehow? — knowledge on the subject.

Rhea flits a look between Adele and Zaharis at the exchange of medical jargon. Lips curving into a crooked little grin. Reece is briefly absorbed in bidding D'Artanion goodbye, and watching her walk away, so he doesn't pay the major immediate attention. Besides, the man is talking about metals. He can't be that exciting. Rhea clears her throat. "Reece. Meet Major Carter. Major, the is my only son and the heir to all things Zimmermann." She deadpans. Though that does manage to get Reece's attention. He even stands up to manage a more-or-less polite, "Major. Hey." His features resemble his mother but his lanky height clearly comes from his father, as does the giant mop of non-regulation curly hair on his head.

Adele adopts a triumphant - subdued, but triumphant - look of her own as she reaches for her glass, inspecting its depleted contents. She takes a sip, then simply sets it down in front of Zaharis, just to take the fun out of his filching by surrendering the liquid to him. Reed's observation is met with a slight grin, and Greje's knowledge spurs an intrigued uplift of her brows. Something occurs to her after these two make their statements, and she looks back at Zaharis with a vaguely concerned expression. "He's… they're right, about the niobium, and the water reclamation site. If any of that unfiltered muck— you ran a tox screen, right?" As if she's not talking to the CMO.

Reeds eyes widen slightly at Zaharis and Adeles conversation and he retreats a careful step, "Ooo this is the medi-sci section." He steps around them to another part of the table, moving as if a medical textbook were about to jump out at him. Taking him towards Reece as he looks to Greje, and smiles, "Indeed. That's the mineral in question." He smiles, before turning his attention to Reece. "We met briefly. Good to see you again." He offers a brief shake, and knuckle rap combination to the young man, with a smile. Casual guy greeting.

"Guaranteed you'd look a bit like a weeping stone too if any of that made it into your bloodstream, chap," Zaharis replies to Greje, then he looks back at Adele next to him. "Sure did, nothing to see there. No signs of sepsis either, so she's in the clear where that's concerned. As far 'in the clear' as one can be said to get, with an allergy to niobium of all things." He looks over at Reed and Reece and grins slightly. "Watch out for the Major, Reece. He'll conscript and promote you when you're not looking."

Greje pushes her hand up through the back of her hair and gives Reed a drowsy-looking smile as she slouches comfortably, lifting one leg to cross over the other. "I'll take your word for it, Jasse," she chuckles. "Glad to hear she's going to be alright," she adds.

Rhea blinks at the knuckle-rap. Surprised at the major. But she approves. Her son responds enthusiastically, acknowledging Reed in proper dude fashion. "Oh!" Reece seems to remember something, hastily digging into his pocket to pull out a folded article from a sports magazine. Rhea's eyes widen but her spawn is showing it to Reed before she can stop him. It's an advertisement for a new line of blade skates made on Caprica. "I thought you'd like this, Major, being a science-guy," the boy says. "I was telling my mom, the engineering on the new line is really cool. Plus, they've got braking and traction, really great for indoor tracks. I could have my mom import a pair to the station if you watn. For…science." Rhea clears her throat, sharply.

Adele bobs her head once, looking relieved and, truth be told, somewhat exhilerated by the diagnosis game. She settles back in her chair, crossing her legs as her eyes skip to Reece and the product he is displaying to Reed. She purses her lips in a little grin, then mumbles quite low to Zaharis, "My father golfs with the man who owns the company that makes those. I doubt Rhea would be too grateful if I happened to mention a possible discount?"

Reed takes the advertisement in his hand, ignoring the 'MOM COUGH' coming from Rheas direction. "The Friction Edge." He considers a moment, thoughtfully. "They really look like they could move, yeah." His gaze at the advertisement unfocuses slightly, then he snaps back into focus, looking at Reece, "Well, I'll let you in on something. Our next supply ship is already in transit so we can't get anything else on that one." He makes a slight pained face, then he looks at Adele, and smiles, "Hmm."

Zaharis gives Greje a slight smile, then laughs at Adele's comment. "Only if the rest of her snipes hear that too. One order turns to en masse and before you know it we'll have the electricians inventing a new sport - dry-by rollerblade fixups."

Greje turns her faintly sluggish attention around toward the discussion of the blades, coming late to that portion of the conversation. She keeps her peace and just listens and watches, for the moment.

Rhea grimaces at Adele and Reed, doing some more throat-clearing. "Reece, they are very nice skates, but don't you think they might be a little impractical for a space station?" Her brows are arched at Reed. Visions of the kid smacking into corridor walls and crowds of shuttle passengers dancing through her head. Reece looks a /little/ daunted by missing the supply ship, but he presses on, "Well, I could put in an order on the next one." He beams at Adele and announces, "She's cool." Discounts on cool toys equal cred.

That's probably the first time Adele has been labeled 'cool,' and her cred suffers as she lifts a hand to give Reece the dorkiest thumbs-up possible. She turns an infinitely apologetic smile onto Rhea.

Reed straightens, looking at Rhea, then Reece, handing the ad back to Reece, "Ya, you could, but you know, no matter what I can't give you permission to test them out without your moms consent." He nods sadly, "That's just the rules even I have to follow, Reece." He shrugs, "Can't help you there, man."

Zaharis rolls his head smoothly towards the woman beside him, commenting to Adele. "You are now part of 'the posse'. Spend your street cred wisely and remember," he advises gravely. "Don't be trippin." He shifts comfortably in his chair, pulling an ankle up over one knee.

Kist comes in from Passageway.
Kist has arrived.

"But it's not against /your/ rules, right?" Reece prompts Reed. "I mean, you /can/ have them on the station. I had my board back on Picon, but there aren't any real parks here, so I can't really use it." Rhea sighs. Wavering. "If Major Carter would not object to you having them here, we can *talk* about it. When we see how your grades look this term. The next supply run won't be for awhile, so I hope Doctor Pike will remember where she can get that discount." She attempts to appear properly hard-assed as she says this. She kind of fails.

Greje smiles at Reed, head still leaning heavily on her hand. "Hos efsebes," she comments briefly with an approving nod. Well, it tried to be a nod, even if it came out as more of a wobble on top of the pillar of her lower arm.

Adele laughs at Zaharis' smooth talking advice, the register of her voice less guarded than usual. She lifts a hand, palm out, as if swearing an oath. "Got it," she states firmly, even if she doesn't really 'get it.' "I will make myself a note," she informs Rhea then, reaching for her handbag, which isn't there. Instead, there is a small laundry bag, sort of folded over on itself due to lack of contents. "Oh! Jesse, here." And… she pulls out a folded fatigues shirt.

Reed puts a hand on Reeces shoulder, patting it, "I got this. Watch." He straightens, looking at Rhea, "This station is modeled on the spoked wheel design. The Rings themselves are off limits, but the outer areas of the station are primarily circular. Most of them are still under construction." He pauses there, "Once I have structural engineers again, they should open pretty soon after. If approperate safety gear is aquired." He turns to Reece, pointing to the Ad, "Like them pads, that guy's wearing." He nods.

Zaharis glances at the shirt in Adele's hands, quite blankly for a second or two. "Oh, for the love. I was wondering what had happened to that. Cleanest shirt on the Genesis by now." He drapes the dull olive fabric across his knee, checking the back of it. "Not even a spot of that coffee. Carter must be feeding these machines steroids."

Rhea's gaze drifts briefly to Adele, and her laundry. A brow is arched at Zaharis. Smirk. But her son's continued lobbying, and Reed's design talk, gets her attention away from there. She clears her throat again, though it's less the mom variety this time. She actually gets caught up in the structural description, nodding a little as she follows along. "Those proportions sound like they would make acceptable conditions for skating," she concedes.

Kist steps into the room, actually in her off duty clothes, apparently able to enjoy herself this evening after a firm order to get off duty and stay there until her next scheduled shift, tomorrow night. The new tactical officer doesn't really know what to do with herself… So she's come. And she might actually drink. She makes her way in the direction of the bar, pulling out a silver cigar case from her pocket and undoing the top to reveal a slightly sweet scented, medium sized cigar.

Adele suddenly realizes what she's just implied, unwittingly or not. And of course, she is compelled to explain herself though no one has really made much to-do about her possession of one of Zaharis' shirts. "He left it in the washer." Non-crisis averted! "I might have washed it a couple more times, though. After the first two washes, I ended up just mixing my own stain removal recipe down at the lab."

Reed nods to Rhea, "It would be a responsibility." He looks to Reece, "I can't have people complaining about a blur of energy streaking past, careening into them with a crash, and have to make a rule forbidding the use of in line skates, or similar things outside the Gym. Believe me, it would not be hard for me to make that rule. It's an optional regulation on the books that I haven't put into the Station regs yet because it's never come up." The tone has half warning, half opportunity in it. The whole mystery of Zaharis' shirt is either ignored or missed in this exchange. He looks to Reece to make sure this is sinking in through those curls.

"Don't even think about it, Rhea," Zaharis tells the ChEng in mock-warning. His poor shirt, left on his knee, would be wearing an innocent face if it could. Back to Adele he says quite simply, "Thank you." His hand absently rubs at his calf for a moment as he pays idle attention to the chatter between the three R's, then he settles back again.

Reece turns to blink at Adele. Having missed the shirt drama. By his expression, he is detracting some of her cool points. Though he keeps his mouth shut, lest she rescind her offer of cheap blades. But Reed has most of his attention, anyway. He nods, doing his best to look as mature as a 12-year-old can. "Yes, sir. Understood. No crashing." He does the 'sir'ing in an almost commissioned fashion. Military brat that he is. The major's whole spiel earns a smile from Rhea. That was nicely done. Zaharis just gets another smirk. Kist's entrance is noted, but most of her attention remains on her son and the major.

Kist makes her way in the direction of the group this time, the gathering smaller and entirely more managable for it. hopefully no possible fist fights or the like will break out. It certainly looks calm enough. The dark haired woman slides up to the bar, slipping smoothly onto the barstool and giving everyone a half smile. "Anyone bothered if I smoke this?" She inquires, nodding to the cigar. It's probably strong, but sweetened by something, so it won't be overwhelmingly pungent.

Greje watches the conversation, mother, son, major. But she's fading fast, and every time she thinks she'll chime in, the thought passes as the conversation wends its way without her, and she's fairly content to let it do so, observing with a mellow smile.

Adele gives Reece an uncertain grin and shrug - she clearly knows she's not 'hip' or 'with it.' She likely does not subscribe to the 'program.' "You're welcome," she replies automatically to Zaharis as he thanks her, swiveling her head from her position at a table near the back to give Kist a shake of her head. She doesn't mind, not sitting next to Smokey McBlack Lung himself here, though he hasn't lit up in a while. "So, Reed… did Zeus ever get to employ his mighty wrath last night?"

Reed nods to Reece at his promise, "Okay." He tells the young man, treating him exactly as such. "We can give it a try. Now it's up to you and your mom." He looks to Rhea, nodding, then, when he hears Kist, he turns, but toward Reece, saying quietly, "That's all the help I can give ya." And he keeps turning till he's facing the woman, duty shirt unbuttoned in a casual off duty state, the kind that might be considered 'Off duty but on call' Looking Kist over briefly, and eyeing the smoke, he shakes his head, "I don't have a problem with it, feel free." He looks to Adele, and smiles, "No, not really, I didn't get to do so much as step on anyones toes while dancing. Just some small light show."

It's true, Zaharis has been smoke-free most of the night, curiously enough. He too gives Kist a shake of his head with a 'no minding here' sort of expression on his face. Reece gets a slight grin when all the wheeling and dealing is done, and he picks up what's left of the water in Adele's glass to finish it off.

Rhea exposes herself and her spawn to Smokey McBlack Lung, so she doesn't object to Kist's little cigar. "It's a free bar, or more less," she says, returning her attention to her long-ignored chicken wings. Reece does the same, trying not to look /too/ triumphant. Though he does return Zaharis' grin.

Excellent. The usually severe woman actually softens a bit as her vice of choice isn't going to piss anyone off. She grabs her cutter out of her jacket pocket also, clipping off the end of the cigar and soon withdrawing a pack of wooden matches to light the thing. She turns it between her fingertips to light the end evenly, soon puffing away. "Thanks… some people get pissy about the things. But a good cigar, some whiskey… Not much better a way to relax in the universe, I think."

Greje sits upright with a sharp breath, suddenly startled from her half-slumber. Then, laughing at herself, "I'd better get to bed before bed gets to me," she reasons, pushing her way up and out of her seat and taking up her dishes to tote back to the bar. "Good night, everyone."

Zaharis tips his chin up to Greje. "Night, Padre." He then gives Kist a slightly more observant sort of squint. "Saw you round the Ward Room day or two ago, didn't I? You're the…the Lieutenant come up to take over from Fotilas, right?" He reaches over casually as he talks, somewhat under Reece's nose, to pick up one of Rhea's chicken fingers. Nothing to see here.

Greje has left.

"Well, I think you did a marvellous job as host, even if the lightning bolt was sadly underused," Adele tells Reed. "I had a good time. Maybe too good a time." With all her two drinks. What a partier.

Rhea chuckles, sucking some wing-sauce off her fingertips. "Whatever helps one get through the day out here," she says, though she gives her son a level look. To make sure he's not rhapsodizing too much on thoughts of cigars and whiskey. Reece, still savoring his victory, keeps his attention studiously on the wings. Leaning so Zaharis can more easily pilfer from them. Rhea doesn't notice, her attention on Kist. "You're one of the new CIC officers, yes? Sorry I can't put more of a name to you. I don't get up to command that often."

Kist waves her free hand off as Rhea apologizes, but Kist actually tries at a smile, finally offering her palm in Rhea's direction, and then to Zaharis too. Might as well make introductions all around. "Yes, I am Fotilas' replacement since he stepped into being XO. They sent me out fast but I was eager for the assignment. Lieutenant Julia Kist, but… Jules is fine. Off duty, that is." Her voice is low and a touch scratchy, probably from a few too many years of indulging her love of cigars… but she keeps a respectful smile on her lips.

Reed smiles to Kist, nodding, "When I have a cigar, I tend to have it with Gemenese brandy, but I don't think that'd work with those. Different flavor." He moves out of the way of Greje with a smile, "Good night." He then looks to Adele, smiling broadly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He then looks to Kist, "Ah, Genesis CIC? It's a pleasure, Lieu, Jules. I was-"

"Major Carter, 941."

The voice on the Intercom, a simple call to contact a wireless station, causes Reed to pause, face falling into a perfect cold unreadable expression as he sets the drink in his hand on the table, and turns without further word to move to the wireless.

Zaharis gives Reece a serious 'thanks, partner' nod, withdrawing with his stolen food and starting to dispatch it. Hopefully before Rhea notices. He extends his hand once the handshaking bug comes around, nodding to Kist. "Welcome up, then. Captain Jesse Zaharis, chief medical officer…" His hand moves to indicate Adele. "This is Dr. Adele Pike in research…and the man with the intercom tied round his neck is Major Reed Carter, PAS commanding officer."

Adele extends her hand to Kist, giving the woman a prim smile. "A pleasure," she insists, her posh accent understated, but present.

Rhea blinks as she sees the flash of Zaharis dispatching her chicken wings. How did he…? She shakes her head, attention back on Kist. "Captain Rhea Zimmermann. Chief engineer." The boy seated with her corrects, "ChEng" between bites of chicken. Rhea smirks, adding, "This is my son, Reece. He boards here on the station." The ChEng's eyes follow Reed as he goes to take his call, curious.

Kist turns her head, about to say something more to Reed, but then he's on his way. "Nice… to meet you, sir, be well!" She calls after him, before finally looking back to the others in the room and giving a somewhat more genuine smile, though Zaharis receives a loft of her brow. "Chief Medical Officer. No one ever likes your type. Please tell me you don't have cold hands." That might have actually been a -joke- out of her. She then looks back to Adele, giving a quick nod, "Research, good… always need brains around." and then the Chief Engineer and her young one, both which get a softer gaze from the woman…"Reece, Captain Zimmermann…it's a pleasure." She chuckles at Reece, "I think you have a better appetite than all of us. And never smoke these things, they're nasty." She nods to her cigar, before puffing away again.

Reed pulls the wireless handset off the rack, and pushes a set of numbers, then another, in rapid succession, putting the handset to his ear, and glancing about briefly, scanning only his immediate surroundings, not looking back to the group he left. "Carter, Go." Listen. A moment of that. A look at his timepiece, "You're sure?" Listen. "Keep the charge stable and have the numbers for me when I get there." He pulls his duty shirt up, buttoning his collar back into place firmly. Major back on duty. "I understand, you've got two minutes." He then hangs up the wireless and turns, making for the door without a look in either direction, the Motivated Officer stalk that eats up ground and tends to scare recruits to get the frak out of the way.

Zaharis holds up both hands where Kist can see them. "They were part of a special government-military project. Specially engineered to stay within .03 degrees of average human body temp. Your tax cubits going to good use." He glances over at Reed as the man starts the Officer Stalk, then at Rhea with a slight shrug as to the whole thing. Now the smoke is starting to get to him, and finally the pack of cigarettes comes out with his lighter, and he looks back at Adele in the chair next to his. "How's the ice cream settling? Feel like something more to eat?"

Adele watches Reed depart, her attention shifting back to the table as his determined stride takes him out of view. Kist's brain comment receives a belated grin, but a brighter smile is reserved for Zaharis when the subject of food is broached. "That would be good. Maybe another glass of water, too." She flicks a fingertip against the side of the glass that she only drank about a quarter of.

"They make you a weeeeak Pyramid player, too," Reece observes, as to smoking, though it seems more of a jab at Zaharis than anything else. He stops messing around when Reed stalks off, also curious. Rhea herself doesn't look away. But she's either not terribly worried about…whatever that was, or she makes a good show of it. "Burdens of command. You finished, Reece? I should get you back. School tomorrow." She deposits some cubits on the table, leaving a healthy tip for whoever has to pick up after her son.

Reed has left.

Kist nods in agreement to Reece, "Yes, yes they do. Good thing I never played pyramid." And then Jules throws a gray eyed look over her shoulder in Zaharis' direction as he makes mention of his engineered hands. She doesn't allow a smile to broach her lips but she simply deadpans, "Specially engineered? I'll have to test them out some day. See if we can put them to -real- good use." And with that dry comment, just a hint of mirth behind her eyes, she turns back to the other women, smiling a touch at Rhea, "Get him to sleep and come back and join us, if you want. I'm sure the food will still be here."

Zaharis is about to give Reece some witty retort when something makes him pause. Really, his mind seems to check out for a second or two, eyes watching the way Reed left. He scratches his chin, then nods to Adele. "Kind of hungry too. I'll get something." And he stands up to do it, taking the cigarette with him. "Hey Rhea? A second?"

"Reece, get us a to-go box. You can take the wings back with you," Rhea says. Whether he notices the implied shooing is unclear, but he wants the wings, so he walks off to get said box. To Kist, she shrugs. "Not tonight. I've got an early start on the Pandora tomorrow, then back to Engineering to do an overview of the marker before the evening shift." She stands along with Zaharis, giving him that second. There's still a thoughtful cloud behind her own eyes. "Yeah, Jesse?"

Zaharis taps his fingers against his leg, lowering his voice for a second to the ChEng.

Zaharis whispers: I was just remembering that right after the Pandora incident, I had to call down to the PAS. Looked up CiC, it was wireless 942. There was a 940 as well, Security, I think. But…Rhea, there is no station 941.

Rhea eyes her son, to make sure he's not annoying the waitress he's obtaining his box from too much, but her ears seem to be entirely on Zaharis. She nods, replying to him in the same low tone.

Kist takes a moment to look back towards Adele, as they've been left alone at the bar, and she gives the woman a slightly thoughtful smile, "So… Adele, was it? What exact sort of research do you do?" Jules dares to ask, studying the younger woman's face for a few moments before taking another puff of her cigar and lightly beginning to tap some of the ash out in the tray on the bar.

You whisper, "I noticed that, too. I don't think the frequency exists. Not on any channel I've ever come across, at least. It's odd. But…Major Carter's in charge of a lot of frakking odd things in on this station. Maybe he's got his own secret squirrel comline. Or that was…something else entirely." to Zaharis.

Adele nods after Zaharis, watching him stand. She gives Reece a little wave as his bedtime is imminent, turning her attention back to Kist, who she regards thoughtfully. Small talk, however, is not her forte. She has a hard time coming up with something to say - that is, until Kist saves the day and speaks first. "Medical," she replies with a bob of her head. "Aerospace preventatives, mostly. So far, at least; this is only my second week at the station." She definitely does have that fresh faced, newbie vibe about her.

You sense: Zaharis shrugs one shoulder. "Ship's brothel for all I know. Guess it's none of our business." Though like that's ever stopped him from talking. "Anyway. Take the kid home. See you tomorrow, hm?"

Zaharis is in quiet conversation with the ChEng for just a few seconds, finally nodding. He smiles a bit. "Anyway. Take the kid home. See you tomorrow, hm?"

Rhea just nods to Zaharis, her manner outwardly unruffled. But she does look eager to get her son home. He's boxed his chicken remains by now, so he motions him over and out. "See you, Jesse. C'mon, Heir Zimmermann. We will talk about those skates *later*. Good night." The last is offered to the ladies as well. The boy offers a general "Later" to all and sundry, and they head out together.

"Be nice to your mom, Reece," Zaharis calls after the duo. He drifts towards the bar, putting in an order for something or other. As is getting to be somewhat predictable routine for him, he's on his way back to the table when the handheld beeps. Pausing his steps to consult it, he purses his lips before heading the rest of the way over and sliding into his old seat. "Adele, I've got to go." She knows that Doctor Tone. "There's some food coming over, two of you can have a picnic or something." He smirks.

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