PHD #332: Contractor, Ahoy
Contractor, Ahoy
Summary: Mark comes to the Elips to let Callie know that she has been cleared to do contract work aboard the Cerberus along with what she's going to be put through and his expectations of her.
Date: 24 Jan 2042 AE
Related Logs: Lunchtime Meeting
Players:
Mark Callie 
Living Quarters — MV Elips
The freighter has living quarters sufficient to accommodate around 800-1000 people, divided up into rooms of varying sizes. Each room holds multiple sets of bunkbeds, most commonly housing between 10 and 20 people, none housing fewer than four and some as many as 60. For each bed, there is a locker of some sort. These rooms take up several floors, and are arranged around a central 'courtyard'. Each floor has at least one common room, outfitted with scavenged couches and televisions, separate heads for men and women, and laundry facilities. The rooms are pretty barren — plain military-issue bedding on the bunks, and nothing currently adorning metal walls or floors. The lighting is unforgivingly fluorescent, and there is a constant soft hum of generators and ventilation systems in addition to the other noises common to areas housing hundreds of people in relatively close quarters.
Post-Holocaust Day: #332

The room that Callie calls home is peaceful, it being just her and no one else, the others she shares it with off tending to business or work which leaves her ample time to read. With an old text book on her lap and a stack of equally old comic books set to the side, it looks like she might have been planning to indulge in one of her favorite hobbies for at least several hours. Or however long it takes for the peace to be disturbed. Whichever comes first.

With a knock at the partially open hatch, Mark appears in his Duty Blues and cranes his head in. "I've been told I'm looking for you. Whether or not that's the truth remains to be seen." He flashes a grin with that cryptic 'hello'. "Reading anything good?"

"Are you? I don't remember summoning you," Callie teases while regarding Mark warmly. "No, I'm certain I didn't as you're not wearing the loincloth I would have required you to wear if I had." Standing, she closes the book and moves across the room, the tome tucked under her left arm as she goes to give Mark a hug, of all things. "I was reading up on Battlestar systems. Primarily engines. Don't ask why. Got bored and thought it'd be something I'd need to learn anyhow.”

"Psh." Mark looks almost indignant. "Loincloths are so last Fall." He moves the hatch open and walks the rest of the way in. He seems a little surprised at the hug but returns it anyhow. "Good call with the book. You'll need to be tiptop on that stuff. Learn whatever you can as fast as you can." He takes a step back. "But I've got some bad news." He looks apologetic. "The results of your clearances came back. You're going to be working for me on the Cerberus."

There is a bit of a chuckle at Mark's retort, his joshing back putting her further at ease, so much so that she doesn't know how he reacts to his being embraced. When he moves away and makes with the announcement of bearing bad news she frowns and almost asks what's wrong but then he goes on, leaving her numb for a moment. "Wait…thought you said…" Oh! He was teasing her. Clearing her throat, she looks up and to the side like she's about to roll her eyes or sigh sufferingly. "I am sure I'll find a way to endure the time I have to work under you," she murmurs, sounding pitiful.

"You're going to have to. Look, the facts on the ground are these:" Mark is all business. That laxed attitude seems to just melt away. "You've got very little experience with shipboard Engineering but you're studying up as best you can. The ass-end of a Battlestar is a damned dangerous place. Especially for someone new and not coming in with a uniform. I'm going to be putting you through an abbreviated basic training and that's non-negotiable." Mark crosses his arms, meeting her eyes. "I want you to be able to meet crew minimums for damage control, firefighting, and survivability. If you can't, that's going to be a problem. My clearances for you to come back into the Playpen of Pipes are conditional for right now to those terms. Are we absolutely clear?"

This is a side of Mark she hasn't seen before during the few times they got to visit previous to this, it being more than enough to sober Callie up in a hurry. "I understand," she is quick to say, her eyes holding to his. "I will do whatever it takes to learn what you and the others need me to… sir." Blushing at that, she diverts her eyes slightly, lowering them as her face heats.

"Good." Mark really takes this seriously. "Nobody sets foot down on that Deck without the ability to handle fixing or fighting what they frak up. From the Apprentice all the way up to me. Assuming you finish all that properly, you'll learn the rank structure. Considering your lack of formal enlistment and training, everyone will be over you. Your level of respect will have to be earned by the people you work with and entirely unofficial. From now on with that ship, all officers are 'sir' unless you are told otherwise." Mark reaches into his pocket and extends an upturned palm towards her with her clearance badge. "If you lose this, report it myself and the Marines immediately. Keep it on display at all times when you are aboard. Any questions?"

Callie slides the badge off of his palm and secures it upon her person. "I don't have any currently but will come to you as soon as any arise. Oh, wait. There is something. You mentioned the possibility of securing me berthing upon the Cerberus? If at all possible, I'd like to take you up on that, please?" Chewing her lower lip, she looks back up, watching him. "Thank you for this, Mark."

"Aye. I did mention that. I'll talk to supply about feasibility and see if we can get you berthed on there but I can't promise that. It will depend on available space." Mark shakes head at the last, though. Its an almost entertained expression. "Don't thank me yet. Thank me when its all over if you still want to. For now, its going to be an upward climb. Remember that anytime there is an explosion or emergency with the ship, you run towards the sound of the fire alarms and hull breach klaxons. No hiding from it." He looks about the room and back to her. "I'm going to be placing you under the care of Senior Chief Alteris for now. She will supervise your training and decide whether or not you pass muster. I'll have her send you a memo when she is ready for you. For now, that ID will get you access to most areas on the ship but I would recommend a Marine escort until you figure out what is where."

Callie nods. "Thank you," she repeats despite Mark having told her how she might want to hold off on saying it. "When do you need me to report in?" She's really not sure what to do, now, what to say eluding her. She pauses and then looks at him, her head tilting to the side. Such a cute little puppy dog.

"You'll report in when Alteris sends for you. Beyond that, its out of my hands. I can still meet for you with drinks and socialize but I won't interfere with your training or what will be required of you." Mark finally manages a smile. "But I need to get back to the ship. I have underlings to harass and FTL's to tame. If you think of anything, hunt me down okay?"

Callie nods. "Alright. I'll await her summons. Will see you around." Mark's allowed to go unmolested, the Captain not given a hug this time. "I will just keep reading this." The book is slipped out from under the limb it's been held under this entire time and reopened to a dogeared page. "I shall get back to my studies."

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