| He Meant it When He Said… |
| Summary: | After the Deck Meeting, Rat fails to follow Safety Protocol and hears about it. |
| Date: | Feb 16, 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Deck Meeting |
| Players: |
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The scene began on the Deck, but spent most of it's time here:
[ Chief's Office ]---[ Hangar Deck - Battlestar Cerberus ]
The room is fairly small, to maximize the area of the deck itself. It contains a smallish metal desk with locking drawers, a computer terminal, a file cabinet against one wall and metal shelves filled with tools, spare parts, and manuals. There are two chairs facing the desk, clearly scavenged from somewhere else. One area of the shelving, nearest the desk, has been cleared and is clean. This holds a coffee maker that constantly seems to have some brew or other in it. Above the chair behind the desk, in a position of prominence, a framed picture has been hung. It is an embroidered image depicting Hephaestus with his two metal helpers. The work is beautiful and almost lovingly detailed. The god is laughing, one eye bright where a patch covers the other. He is held aloft by his helpers, one done in glittering gold, the other in silver.
There's nothing to overtly comment on when it comes to standard military procedures, so that leaves Eve to patiently stand amongst the rest of the deck crew, listening. When the meeting is over, she passes along a couple of words with those near to her and then excuses herself in order to try and catch up with Atreus. "Chief," she pauses with a moment's hesitation and then straightens up at her addressing Atreus, coming to a stop and waiting recognition rather than spout off with her inquiry.
The man is walking easily toward his office in order to allow anyone who wants a word the ability. Hearing a voice, the man turns. "Yes?" He takes a moment to look the young woman over, then adds, "PO 2nd. I don't believe we have met." Turning fully, he extends a hand, "Welcome aboard. And what can I do for you?"
Eve's brows stiffen and then she eases into a small smile, initial tension departing and allowing her to lean forward and extend her own hand. "I was wondering when exactly we could first expect the incoming birds for the de-renovations," lightly questions the woman with the shake. "Eve Dekora, sir."
Atreus nods once, then moves on, "Now, as to pilots doing their own maintenance. I talked to the CAG and that will not be happening, at least for a while. After the war games, I will work with her and with her pilots to test their skills. If I pass them, and she agrees that they have the time, they will then be allowed to do routine maintenance only. I won't have anyone who does not report to me handling any of the deeper issues or repairs. There will be a procedure that the pilots must follow. I'll keep you all informed."
Atreus takes the woman's hand and shakes it. "Chief. I'm not a 'sir'. I work for a living." He winks a bit, then releases her hand. His grip is firm, friendly, competent. It does not linger beyond propriety. "Oh, right." He glances over his shoulder, then shrugs, "Opportunity lost." Looking back, he adds, "In the morning at oh six hundred. I don't think you are on that rotation, though, Dekora."
"Mm," Eve murmurs appreciatively and takes note of the small correction with a light nod of her head. Upon the bob of her head, she speaks up in reply with a lightened smile placed across her expression and lighting up her features. "I'm not, but I'm looking forward to it, overall. It gives us something to do," and then she pauses again with a thoughtful pressing of her lips together. She nods decisively. "But thanks though, Chief. I'll be doing my best and all."
Atreus nods, "I'm sure you are, Dekora. Let me see. You're an Aircraft Engineer, right?" He motions to the office, "Come on in. I have a few things I want to go over with the Air Engineers and might as well start with you." His smile turns a bit sharper, though not menacing, "You wanted to keep busy…"
Eve takes a moment to nod at the initial question and briefly she shifts her gaze to the side, looking to the other deck crew members as they filter about upon the closing of the meeting. She directs her gaze back towards Atreus though and nods again. "Of course, Chief," she replies, smoothly, and definitely in spite of the hesitation she takes in preparing to follow Atreus to the nearby office.
Enter Tisiphone, looking even squeakier-cleaner than usual, all uniform'd up instead of slumming it in her fatigues. She's got a clipboard tucked under her arm, the top page showing a few scrawled notes, more doodle than information. Having remembered her last visit her, she doesn't salute the first deck-hand that comes by, instead bobbing a polite nod to them and asking, "Hey. I'm looking for the Chief."
The deckhand does salute the woman, however. A crisp, "Ensign. The Chief's over there." The man jerks a thumb toward the office, then waits for the salute to be returned as is proper.
Atreus, meanwhile, is talking softly to Eve. "Thanks. This won't take long." He reaches the door to his office and holds it open for the woman walking with him. Glancing around one last time before ducking in, he spots the officer. A smile begins as he recognizes the young woman and he holds a hand up, "Hold up, Dekora. I'd like you to meet this Ensign."
Said Petty Officer holds up and slides her forward boot into a stop in order to awkwardly turn about and better face both Atreus and incoming Ensign. For a lingering moment, more of her attention rests in the Ensign's direction but Eve then moves to step forward and lift herself into a proper salute.
Any more of this, and Tisiphone will start looking comfortable in her surroundings. A textbook-perfect salute is given back to the deckhand as she says, "Perfect. Thanks," and heads in the indicated direction. Once she spots Atreus, she raises a hand to him and calls, "Deck Chief, Sir!" Is that a mirthful expression? She looks…relieved, at the very least. "Reporting for my precious darling flight suit. Sorry I'm so late. We had a briefing tonight." She seems to puff up a bit, proudly, at that last bit. She, the lowly Ensign, was at a /briefing/.
It's easy to disappear, when you're the size of… well, Rat. The little Crewman's been on deck for most of the day, behind this crate or inside that ship, but aside from the garish orange of her jumpsuit, she's done nothing to draw attention to herself. Enjoy it while it lasts, Ladies and Gentlemen. She's currently on the far side of the Hangar Deck, staring up at a pile of stacked crates. The grated kind, with convenient places to stick fingers and toes. And that's just what she's doing after the brief assessment, attempting to scale the stack with quiet efficiency. Unfortunately, those top crates aren't as full as she predicted, and when a greasy little hand lodges itself into the grated side, it's… giving. And down they all go. Three crates high, full of… stuff. Bits of uniforms, unneeded parts, and… a box of marbles. The last breaks as a crate falls atop it, sending about a dozen little balls scurrying off to hide. As for the culprit? Rat's flat on her ass, eyes painfully wide, and mouth open in a not-so-subtle, "/Frak!/"
Tisiphone actually looks a bit abashed when she's saluted /again/, this time by Eve, but quickly whips off another salute. Just because she's been trapped at attention by her higher-ups doesn't seem to make her eager to have others stand on ceremony with her.
But ceremony it is and, with the gleam of amusement in his eyes, the Chief also salutes the Ensign, "Sir. Welcome back. Your flight suit has missed you, I think. Been pining away…" His smile freezes at the clatter and he says, "Excuse me. Won't be a moment…" Turning, his gaze sweeps the deck and rest on the small deck hand. "TERESI! Get your ass over here doubletime!" Looking back, he motions toward his office, "If you two care to meet me inside?" Not waiting to see if they do, he turns his attention to the chaos yonder.
"Damn. Hell of a spill," Tisiphone comments on Rat's cacophonous return to the hangar floor. A bit of a sympathetic wince when Atreus voice raises in a shout — she's familiar to having the paint peeled off her, as well. She'll move toward the Deck Chief's office, but linger at the entrance, seeming hesitant to enter.
Doesn't she have a nice last name? Teresi. Rolls right off the tongue… particularly when it's yelled like that. TER-ES-I. With a bit of masculine growl for maximum effect. Atreus does it rather well, and from her position on the ground, hands darting to and fro in an effort to catch the rogue marbles, Rat's actually nodding her approval. A quiet smirk already pulling at the unseen corner of her mouth, though it's artfully smothered by a look of contrite horror by the time she scrambles to her feet. Moving quickly, once she's given up her marble hunt, and bolting toward the Chief. Running at full-tilt, as ordered, and then skidding to a halt a few feet from the surly Deck Chief. The momentum has a handful of dark curls spilling across her eyes — something she can only blink at, considering marble-filled fingers — as she blinks up at the taller man. "Sir!"
Eve comes out of saluting in order to actually take a chance at breathing and relaxing, lowering her chin and gaze as well with a small huff under her breath. It doesn't last for long, the Petty Officer side-steps and turns her attention back to the atmosphere around her, straightening her shoulders and tightening muscles out of reflex. Yet, it isn't life threatening and she can merely look on for a time before replying; "Aye, Chief," just two words she says, skulking off to not get yelled at.
Atreus might be bigger than the diminutive deck hand, but isn't yet surly. No, that might come later. "You were at the meeting, Teresi, yes? Heard the talk about safety first and no shenanigans? Yes?" He does not give the young woman time to reply, because it was a required all-call and if she wasn't there, that would be a bad thing. "Then what the FRAK do you think you are doing?" He glances up at the mess which is, luckily, mostly contained. "Get that cleaned up and report back to me for reassignment." Turning again, he walks to the door of his office once more. Opening it, he motions for the other two, "Please. Ensign. Your flight suit awaits." Calm, he is. Utterly. Unflappably. Unshakably. At least for now.
While Tisiphone and Eve await the Chief by his office doors, the Ensign slouches her hands down into her pockets, keeping her clipboard trapped between her upper arm and side. She tries to make conversation with Eve: "Don't remember seeing you the last time I was here. Did you just come aboard before we left dry-dock?" Pale eyes flick curiously to the deckhand as she steps into the office, holding the door for the others filing in.
"Oh? Oh, that's right. One of the last ones, I'm Dekora, Sir," but then Eve pauses and inclines her head to the side while watching after the Chief and Rat. She can't really say much but she can at least smile, for the most part, and push herself off into shuffling swiftly into the office. It looked a lot bigger on the outside. "Huh." She steps aside.
Atreus steps in after the women. He eases about to rest a hip on the desk, motioning to the two toward the available chairs, "Please." Then, as an afterthought, he snaps his fingers and rises, "The flight suit. Right." Leaning out the door, he lifts his voice, "Evans! Bring the Ensign's suit, please." Ducking back, he returns to his lean, "Would either of you like coffee?" Then, to Tisiphone, "Or juice?" Lifting a hand, he taps the side of his temple then turns to Eve, "Dekora? You'll be on a team for the retro and refit. I'll want to talk to all of you together, but… Are you certed on the frameboards for the Mark VIIs?"
Tis gets an odd expression every time she's referred to as 'Sir'. It's something that the non-coms are told about, maybe — tales of those odd Ensign beasts somehow worthy of salutes and Sir'ing despite their lack of experience with…well, /everything/. She keeps looking like she's expecting there to be a 'real' Sir standing behind her. Content to stay silent while the Chief speaks with Eve, she listens with intent curiosity.
Eve glances aside towards Tisiphone and then to the chairs. As much as she would love to stop standing around all day and night, she doesn't want to be the first one to sit, or at least the enlisted to sit before an officer sits. She might become cursed or something. Instead, she eases her hands into a lightened clasp behind her lower back and retains a good bit of comfort in her stance. The offering of drinks is declined with a polite shake of her head and then flashes pearlescent teeth in a brief grin. "I can handle it, easily, Chief," she's still smiling, confidently so. Then, the gearhead actually responds, "Oh, yes. I am."
When one makes messes as a hobby, one is very quick about cleaning them up. That, or she just did a half-ass job of it. Whatever the case, Rat's knocking on the half-open door sooner than later, and then side-stepping into the office with a more-or-less crisp salute. "Sir… uh, Sir! Got all them marbles." And just in case he doubted her, a hand is lowered to pat at one of her now-bulging coverall pockets. Sure enough, the pocket clinks and grinds with the charm of fake glass.
The deck hand that the chief called for nods and heads off to handle the request. She returns in short order with the flight suit all encased in nifty plastic. When the woman reaches the office, she hands the suit in, "Here it is, Chief. We'll get the testing station hooked up."
Atreus nods, motioning for Tisiphone to take her suit, "Let me know when you can come down to test it, okay?" Then, he turns his attention to Eve and Rat, "Actually, Ensign, if I might have a word with these two?" He looks up at the woman, "I would take it as a kindness." His tone is mild, but there is something about his voice that suggests a retreat might be advisable.
"Thanks, Chief. Really." And there — a brief, but sunshiny-bright smile, beamed from Tisiphone to Atreus. Just like that, she's ducking out. If she's quick enough, after all, nobody has to salute.
Eve lifts her right hand up to wave towards Rat when she enters, mainly because she's mentally going over the idea of the other woman finding all of her marbles. It's cute and amusing, to her at least. The dark-skinned woman turns her attention back to Atreus though, nodding. Her hand goes back to being gently locked behind her. The smile persists, casually so.
Once the Ensign has left, Atreus rises and moves to sit behind his desk. He folds his hands in front of him and motions again to the chairs. This time? It is not a request, "Sit down. Both of you. Please." The final word is clearly added as a habit rather than a courtesy. "Teresi. When we finish here, I want you to report to medical. You took a nasty fall and I don't want you hurt. So. What happened out there? And remember that it is all on vid." He gestures to the screen on his computer which shows a security feed of the deck. It is broken into small squares that cover the entire area. "I don't need to hear it. I want to." Atreus flashes a quick nod to Eve, as though in acknowledgment of her prior reply, "Good. We'll need a lot of your expertise in the next few weeks." He notes the wave and the smile, though cannot guess the reason for it.
The reason for it? Rat's /adorable/, that's why. That, or she's good at drawing the Deck Chief's wrath. Keep it off the rest of the crew! Sure to be a crowd favorite. "Yes, sir," the woman's offering the now-default response, stepping forward to drop into one of the offered chairs. She sits atop one of her booted feet in the process — giving herself a bit more height — before turning her gaze back to the Chief. What… happened? "Well. There wasn' much to it, Sir. The Gods didn' much bless me in the height department, so I go about finding height for myself. I was going to sit atop them crates. Would've worked fine, I imagine, if one hadn't been full of clothes." And marbles. "It fell over, and I feel with it." Then, as she registers his comment about medbay, her 'brows are knitting, "I'm fine, though. I've fallen from higher." Surprise!
"Aye," this is said when Eve's been given some official orders when it comes sitting down, and now when she lacks the need to stand she sinks down into the chair and sighs briefly. She pauses though and glances between the two others within the room. Questioning why she is here to hear this, the woman nods, "Of course, Chief." She'll enjoy the application of her expertise.
Atreus really could give a frak about adorable. Seriously. It never even occurs to him. There are deck hands who are worth something and deck hands who are not. And if they are not worth something, they won't be deck hands for long. He listens and nods, "Understandable, considering. But, you will never ever do it again. I will have a stable perch constructed for you and you will use it and only it while on deck. Now, tell me, tell Dekora what was wrong with that particular choice of perches, Teresi. I want you to tell another new deckie why climbing on a stack of frakin' unsecured crates in order to satisfy your curiosity was such a frakin' great idea." He pauses for a moment, "Sickbay wasn't a suggestion. It was an order. I'll expect to hear from one of the attendings about your health. If I don't…?" As he speaks his eyebrow rises and dire warnings flash in his eyes.
He's going to create her a /perch?/ Rat's eyes are widening with unconcealed excitement at the prospect, and the girl does well to smother her grin. If she betrays too much happiness about this, he's bound to take it away. Military and all. Mean bastards. But of course… there's a catch. He's going to make an object lesson of this little disaster. Dekora? The other woman's name has Rat looking sidelong at Eve, chin tipped a bit farther to the left than line-of-sight would require. Then, after shaking a few curls from her eyes and drawing an audible breath, she begins, "Well. From a strict and logical kind of view, you shouldn't climb on nothin' that ain't kept in place with bolts, ropes, or glue. And if you /are/ gonna be climbing on unsecured crates, you shouldn't be doin' it on the Deck, 'cause Safety First." The latter two words are given particular emphasis, as well as Atreus' particular vocal patterns. "In other words…" Deep breath. "It was a very /bad/ frakkin' idea, and now I gotta find the damn MedBay." It's a big ship.
Eve huh's gently and matches Rat's sidelong glancing with one of her own, now that she knows why she is here. She doesn't speak up either way though, because there's no need for her to and she would much rather not be interrupting the conversation at hand. In fact, she looks back across the desk towards the Deck Chief and waits to be addressed.
Atreus nods, "Good. Now, I have two things for you, Teresi. One. Tame the hair or lose it. That is an order. Two. When you are finished with medical, report to Captain Harbatkin (NPC) in Supply. You'll be swabbing decks and cleaning latrines for a week. You can come back when you believe, really believe that when on the Deck, you follow orders and protocol." He leans back a little, "You see, Teresi. If the Deck does not run like clockwork, people die. Could be you. Could be Dekora here. Might be me. But, it is more likely to be hundreds of pilots who have placed their lives and faith in us. If we fail in keeping order here? They might have only a moment to wonder what the frak we were thinking before they go up in fire. Do I make myself clear?"
Rat's not stupid, when all is said and done. The girl stays quiet during Atreus' little lecture, though his mention of her hair does earn a rather pained glance upward — a glance that actually gives her a pretty good view of dark curls — before she's nodding. Swabbing decks and latrines? It will probably be nostalgic, for this one. If nothing else, she doesn't look terribly miffed at the prospect. The more somber part of the speech goes on then, and then Rat's nodding. "Clear, yeah. Yes. Sir. Yes, sir." One eye gets a bit smaller than the other as she half-grimaces, but then she's shrugging it off with a more appropriate, "May I be dismissed?"
Eve Persephone Dekora is deathly allergic to death, truth be told. She wrinkles the bridge of her nose out of distaste when it is referenced to but this is merely a natural reaction and it passes along more quickly than it had arrived. She casts her gaze downwards and then shifts to sit up and forwards. Hair and protocol and medical bays aside, if Rat is being dismissed then it's most likely a prime opportunity for Eve to be dismissed to her activities as well.
Atreus nods once to Rat, then turns to Eve, "Please help Teresi find medical. It's on Deck 10." Nodding to both of them, he motions toward the door, "Dismissed."