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Niko, in the flowery shirt once more--so he must be off-duty--steps into the room, though he waits near the door to make sure nothing's being disturbed before he actually says anything.
Clara is at her desk, the med bay echoingly empty for once, and tapping away at her terminal. At the motion from the door, she glances up and smiles brightly. "Well, hey there. Must be off duty. Pull up a chair."
Niko nods an affirmative as he settles into a chair. "It'd be nice if these could be the uniforms, though," he muses. "Much more comfortable. I'm not pestering, am I?" he adds, looking honestly concerned. With a gesture towards the terminal, he adds something vague about work.
Clara waves a dismissive hand, leaning back in her chair. "Not a bit. I'm just still going over all the rules and regs for the place and cementing them in the old noggin between patients." She glances at the doorway with a hint of amusement. "Not that I've had any patients today yet."
Niko peers over his shoulder to the doorway as well, as if such words will summon a patient. "Good. Be nice if it'd stay that way, but you'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath." Turning back, he offers an engaging grin, with a slight shake of his head.
Clara returns the grin, rolling her eyes as she links her fingers and rests her elbows on the arms of her chair. "No, see, if you hold your breath, you'll likely end up -being- a patient. But no one getting hurt would be nice, I agree. Not even any assassination attempts reported in here last night, which is nice."
Niko's brows lift fractionally. "Nice switch, yes," he murmurs. "They just must not have gotten that far." He reaches down to retie one shoelace, adding, "It does make life interesting, thought."
"Or you folk just frightened them all into submission," Clara counters congenially. "Anyway, what brings you to the land of antiseptic and scanners? Don't tell me you've already injured yourself in the line of duty?"
Niko's brows twitch rather sardonically at your statement. At the questions, however, he shakes his head, with a quick chuckle. "Not just yet, no. I just found myself at loose ends, and I thought I'd come see how you were doing. If I stop in to see the folks in Security, see, Anya will almost definitely put me to work."
Clara's eyes follow your brows for a moment before she blinks rapidly. Mesmerizing little critters. "Mmm. The elusive Anya. I need to meet this woman and find out how she keeps you folks from chaos. Are you fairly new here too, then?"
Niko says, so automatically that it would seem to be a conditioned response, if not for the gleam of mirth in his eyes, "Anya is always right. And you and she would likely get on famously. I'd offer to introduce you now, but, well, as I said, she'd put me to work." With a grin and a nod, he adds, "I got in a day or two before you did, I think. At any rate, I'm still new enough that I don't know many folks here. And most of them are diplomats, and I'm not going to go out of my way to visit most of -them-."
Clara makes a moue of distaste, nodding emphatically. "The only one I've met worth hunting down for a chat is that Stilvanian delegate, Kyara? She seems to be decent people. I have yet to meet this Lexington joker, but I figure it's just a matter of time."
Niko nods his agreement about the statement regarding Kyara, though not without a faint frown. "Kya, yes. Nice, but..." He shakes his head. "Probably not important." He glances at his comm-unit as he hears the chime, then looks back up, a faint, amused smile on his face. "Lexington. Yes. I can't help but be a little relieved that he seems to find me beneath notice."
Clara blows out a gust of breath, shrugging. "She'd have to be, what with..." Her words trail off, and she shakes her head. "Never mind. From what I hear from Honalee, you're a good sight fortunate to be beneath his notice, too. I'd feel sorry for Riley if I didn't get the feeling he can take care of himself."
Niko inclines his head at that. "The Chief can, yes," he agrees, looking utterly confident in that. "I wouldn't be surprised if he were enjoying himself, too. I just hope..." He frowns a moment, then says, "I hope he doesn't go too far."
Clara steeples her fingers, peering over them seriously. "Do you think he might? From what I hear, this isn't just a recent battle, but an ongoing conflict. Pretty Phyrric, too, it looks like."
Niko tips his hand back and forth, a bit uncertain at the first question. "I don't know. I hope not. Anya helps with that, though. She's great. I don't know all the details of it all--I'm not really sure how appropriate asking would be." He shakes his head, brows furrowed just a bit. "Well. It's not happened so far."
Clara's lips quirk in a faint, understanding smile. "It's almost harder when you have a CO you get along with, isn't it? It'll all work out, I'll lay odds. I mean, if we can all survive this blasted Interegnuum and its aftermath, we can survive anything." Her brows furrow. "I don't remember the last one being this messy...but then I was in school at the time, too."
Niko's head bobs in a nod. "Yeah, so was I." Of course, he was almost still in school for this one, so that can't be a surprise. "And I don't know how things were you were, but they didn't really publicize much of the more... interesting... details on Evinast. I think they were in favor of the whole rose-colored glasses thing."
Clara makes a small sweeping motion with her fingers, laughing softly. "I think the entire Alliance gets the rose tinted version via the glories of the media. I went to school here on Linnae, though, so we got a -little- more of the scoop. Not that cadets get a great deal of scoop, but I wasn't a cadet by that time."
Niko shakes his head slightly. "That must've been an experience, studying here." And maybe not, from the faintness of his smile, an experience he would've been thrilled to have.
Clara thinks this over, then nods wryly, lifting a hand to rest the side of her head against her knuckles. "A mass of experiences, rather. Made a lot of good friends though, but they're all off on their own duty assignments. What about you? Military scholarship?"
Niko inclines his head. "I thought it was an easy way to get off-planet." His lips quirk rather wryly. "I learned. Did me a world of good, thought."
Clara's eyes dance with a fair amount of humor as she grins. "Oh? Teach you to stop cutting class to run off for that tiskizikiski sauce?"
Niko supplies, with a grin, "Tziziki. No, I learned that a bit earlier. It did help that Evinast didn't have decent tziziki, though."
"Tziziki," Clara repeats slowly, then nods. "Tziziki. Got it. Just don't ask me to spell it. I think that hits everyone who leaves home for school, though. I swear no one here at Copper knows how to make peas and rice worth two bits. Still, it was a good place to go to school."
A fluffy head peers around the door. It can't be a dog, dogs aren't usually 6'8". So that pretty much leaves Riley. He glances around, attempting to ascertain if the coast is clear.
Niko, as he's got his back to the door, doesn't see the fluffy head just yet. "Peas and rice, huh," he muses. "That's not something I've had. And it sounded last night like you all had fun... at that hotel, with the gryphons?"
Clara shakes her head, her own curls bobbing in opposing directions as she chuckles ruefully. "Oh, fun to be sure, on leave, at least. But marching from class to class as if you're in a drill competition every day for four years gets old. But like you said, it did me a world of good." She peers over Niko's head at the fluffiness and half grins. "Coast is clear, Riley. C'mon in. You're not in my clutches till this afternoon."
Riley arrives from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Niko turns in his chair to offer Riley a curious grin. "Hiya, Chief."
Riley glances back towards the nether regions of the medical bay as he pads in with several file folders. "After this morning, I don't think I want to run into Honalee again for at -least- twenty four hours." He waves pleasantly, "Heya' Nick." He offers the folders to Clara, "Those would be the various papers you have to sign and fill out on being named Chief of Medical Services here. I figured I'd run them over early, so you have more time to stare at them in horror and stuff them in a desk drawer until the last minute."
Clara accepts the files with a congenial nod, then proceeds to indeed stare in horror as she starts to leaf through them. "Saints add preservatives, they don't want to know much, do they? What color are my mother's eyes? Egads." She doesn't stuff them a drawer, but does push them to one side. "And it breaks your heart to see someone else under a mountain of paper, right?" she asks, grinning.
<OOC> Clara snickers and idles just a sec. My mom's here. :)
Niko eyes the stack, then shakes his head. "So much for free time," he murmurs, casting a brief look to Riley, then glancing back to Clara.
<OOC> Jess says "Hi, Mom!"
"My favorite one's the psych evaluation form." Riley notes congenially, tucking his hands in his pockets, "I have no idea how they can evaluate someone's psyche with a page of short answer questions, but they try. It's a fun one to get...creative on." He grins rather wryly, "That's not a mountain, honest. If you'd like a mountain, I'm sure I could find one for you. I have an entire closet of delinquent paperwork. It's kind of a monument." He grins at Niko, "See, I really -am- evil."
<OOC> Leila oohs and waves too! "Hi Mom! We're converting your daughter to the ways of evil. Nice to meet you. ;)"
<OOC> Jess . o O ( Hello, Mom? I'm your daughter's vile and evil temptress. Have some chai. ;)
Clara rolls her eyes. "Proof indeed," she agrees. "You're a wicked and evil man, mister. A psych evaluation, hmm?" She rifles through the files again, talking while she looks.
Niko suggests, "So they want proof that you're actually crazy enough to take the job?"
Riley mmhmms amiably, "It's the sage green sheet. Entirely mystifying, most of the questions are. I have no idea what toast buttering has to do with anything, but I generally add lots of remarks about the voices in my head telling not to eat toast." He grins at Niko, "That might explain it."
"Mmm...more like gullible," Clara decides, finally extracting the right sheet. "A flipped over turtle? What are they trying to do, figure out I'm not an android? Sheesh."
Riley grins, his expression amused and his stature that perennially relaxed mode. "I usually save it till last, kind of a fun spot at the end of the yearly review."
Niko, with a gesture towards the stack of paperwork, inquires of Riley, "You have to fill out all that every year, Chief? Or just the psych evaluation?"
Clara glances up from the sheet with a modicum of horror. "I have to do all this mess yearly?" she fairly well echoes Niko. "Egads. Evil, evil bureaucrats."
Riley looks mildly apologetic, "Not -all- of it every year. But most of it." He shakes his head at Niko, "My stack's taller, I get a whole slew of forms on being an 'arms control agent' alone. It makes me sound like a government gun runner."
Niko's brows lift. He sounds utterly serious as he says, "I almost got to see the place where all the red tape is manufactured, but I didn't get the forms in in time."
Clara skims over a few more of the question, snickering. "Good thing our CO did all that paperwork for us on Cannerton. Not that I mind not carrying a sidearm anymore...sort of at odds with the whole medical image." She peers up at Niko, sympathetic. "I'll be they got tied up."
Riley groans quietly at Niko, shaking his head lightly, "I swear between the two of you I'm going to go into bad joke OD. I'd probably better flee while I still can."
Niko flashes a grin to Riley. "Oh, come on, Chief. I don't do it that often, and Clara's been pretty good about it lately."
Clara offers a rather innocent smile, nodding affably. "I really have been," she agrees. "And you can't flee that far, anyway. You have checked your calendar with Anya today, right?"
Riley all but groans, nodding. His tone is rather dry as he notes, "I find it -remarkably- suspicious that when I asked her two days ago to block in a meeting with Tyrus Gressian, she tells me I don't have any room in the schedule for three weeks, but she can magically find time for for me to be harassed by medical science?"
Niko shakes his head, brows briefly lifting. He manages to sound more earnest than amused as he says, again, "Chief, it really isn't -that- bad. Besides, Anya is always right. If she thinks you should be here..."
Clara mutters something about needing to take this Anya out for lunch. She spreads her hands and smiles serenely. "It really isn't," she agrees. "Look at it as a break. No paperwork, no diplomats, and I'm sure your very capable staff can hold down the fort for an hour or so, can't they?"
"Oh, they can hold down the fort," Riley grins ruefully, "And no papwerwork or diplomats is a goodness, but an hour in which Honalee can descend to engage in acts of random cruelty is a thing to be -feared- I tell you. The time she wrote an involved report that implied the length of my hair was bad for my medical state and job performance. I spent three months on the Aslan with a crew cut..."
Niko really can't help but grin at that. "How very creative," he murmurs. Turning towards Clara, he inquires, "Would you do that?"
Clara's eyes widen in surprise as she glances towards the back hallway and the inner sanctum of med bay offices. "A -crew cut-?" she repeats, aghast, then shakes her head sharly. "Chief, the last thing I'm going to do is ask you to cut your hair. I don't even see a reason for it unless there's too much to fit under a helmet."
Clara shakes her head at Niko emphatically. "I don't have any room to talk, for that matter."
Riley glances back towards those fearsome back offices, "You see what I mean though. The potential for great evil is there. So, naturally, I fear."
Clara shakes her head, refiling the psych form back into its folder and leaning comfortably back in her chair. "Never mind the bit about where angels fear to tread, huh? Okay, anything I can do for either of your exams to make you more at ease? -Other- than cancel them?"
"Lock Hona in a closet?" Riley's mutter is quiet, but the words crisp enough to be understood. Hopefully however, they won't carry too far. Even paranoids know Edreeni.
Niko pauses at that, gaze sliding towards Clara. "Wait a minute. When did this become a plural thing?" His brows have arched, and his expression is one of mild surprise.
Clara makes a noise of mock-indignance at Riley before grinning at Niko. "Guilt by association, m'lad. That, and I figured if I offered one Secoff a lollipop, I'd better offer his assistant one too."
Niko considers that, and nods amiably enough. "All right. I just didn't think I was due in here any time soon--thought that might be a bit premature." With a dismissive gesture, he adds, "I don't really have much of a problem with them, Clara. Necessary evil, all that."
Riley grins amiably, "Hey, if you're offering -candy-..." This is after all a man who thinks chocolate bars make an acceptable meal. His comm-unit however interrupts him, "Duty calls folks, I'll see you both in a bit."
Riley heads towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Clara nods and glances at her own chrono. "Take care, Chief. Don't forget your appointment, or I'm hunting you down with a tranq gun," she assures amiably. She makes a face at Niko and sighs. "Physicals aren't evil. Just partially evil, depending on who the doctor is."
Niko follows that conformity rule that states that folks must always look at chronos when other folks do, and peers at his comm-unit. "Hey," he says mildly, "You said partially evil. That counts."
Clara smirks and runs her hand up through her hair to push it back, although it stubbornly sproings back into its normal unruliness. "And I also said depending on the doctor. I swear kids are easier to deal with sometimes. Then again, they don't even get puns, let alone groan at them."
Niko chuckles very quietly at that. "Some kids. Depends on the patient, just like it depends on the doctor. My nephew, for example... well, let's just say that I'm glad I'm going to be -here- next time he has to go to the doctor. His sister's an angel, but Sochos... no." He shakes his head, expression quite amused.
Clara leans back, lifting her arms to lace behind her head as she grins. "A bit of a hellion? Too bad he's not more like his uncle. You have a fair number of siblings, then? I'm afraid I don't have any, so I'm not sure what kids are much like other than in the professional sense."
Niko, for whatever reason, seems to find the statement that he and his nephew are not alike quite amusing, eyebrows even getting into the expression of mirth. "Four sisters. And Sochos is quite the hellion, yes. They're all hoping he grows out of it, but I'm not counting on that."
Clara chuckles, letting her eyes drift up to the ceiling. "You're not? Why not? Are you trying to tell me that the women in your family are an influence for riotous behavior?"
Niko shakes his head. "Quite the opposite, with the exception of my youngest sister. She'll likely encourage him. She's the one who picked out this," he adds, with a gentle tug on his t-shirt. "And I'm not quite sure why I think he'll stay the way he is. Instinct? Something like that. It'll make life more interesting for the folks back home, at least."
Clara considers the shirt for a moment, then nods approvingly. "I like it," she comments. "And making life interesting for your family is always a good thing. Keeps 'em on their toes." Of course, she's not adding that's why she went to boarding school from the age of twelve on.
Niko nods his agreement to that. "And perpetually looking over their shoulders," he murmurs. Of course, he's not adding that his own hellion days were only exacerbated by his boarding school experience. "I just don't want them to be bored. That's all." His smile is utter innocence. Such concern for his family--how commendable.
Clara pulls her arms down and tilts her head, slightly smiling, but watching you very curiously. After a moment, she comments, "Why am I getting a hunch that you did your part in keeping folks on their toes for a time, too?"
Niko considers that for a moment. "Because you're perceptive?" he suggests, with a ghost of a smile.
Riley arrives from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Riley returns, bearing in hand yet -more- paperwork. This however he does not attempt to foist off on anyone. He's not the paperwork fairy, he's just one of its minions. "Sorry, the big mail ship came in. Customs'll have its hands full all day, but it'll be worth it."
Clara hrms, grin brightening slightly. "I've been told that, yes," she agrees with Niko. "It's certainly an intriguing hunch." She glances at the door as it slides open again, worry crossing her face until the paperwork stays with Riley. "Welcome back. You're the mail clerk too?"
Riley tucks the thick folder under one arm, leaning against something convenient. "Not as such, but when a parcel ship comes we have to check in for bombs and illegal imports and all that. With the Interegnuum the mails were a bit off to the Complex. So this ship's more heavily loaded than most. I'm sure people'll be pleased it's here though, even if it does tie customs up into a massive snarl."
Niko waved to Riley when he came in, really. "Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet nor bombs, eh, Chief?" He grins amiably, gaze flicking briefly to his comm-unit.
Clara thinks this over and grimaces, leaning forward to tap a note into her planner on her terminal. "Have analgesics ready for customs shift end," she mutters. "Those folks are gonna have headaches from here to the Horsehead Nebula." She laughs at Niko's quote and nods. "The security man always rings twice," she agrees. "Everything okay, then?"
"First rule in preventing armed uprisings in any military or semi-military instillation," Riley offers with a wry smile, "Get the mail in as soon as possible, and don't mess it up." He mmhmms, "Everything's fine, just chaotic. And chaos comes standard equipped."
Niko murmurs lightly, "From chaos comes creation."
Clara quirks her brows at Niko sagely. "Or from creation comes chaos, depending on whose parents you ask?"
Riley glances from Niko to Clara and back again, "Why am I suddenly glad I never had kids?" He grins.
Niko flashes a bright, amused grin to Clara. "I'll have to remember that one." He peers at Riley, then says candidly, "Chief, that would be scary."
Clara nods in complete agreement, successfully holding back a snicker. And a Milky Way, too. "Little Addisons all over the place. That's frightening."
Riley snickers quietly, nodding his own agreement to Niko's assertion, "I'll stick to a Godkid, a niece and two nephews. That's much more fun. I can spoil and then flee. Not to mention it makes wonderful revenge." To Clara he notes, "There's enough of us already, yes."
Niko snaps his fingers at Riley's comment. "That's right. I need to find those Sectassian rhythm sets for the twins, speaking of spoiling and revenge."
Clara simply listens with interest, hands folded placidly. "Is that what kidlets are good for? Hmm. Maybe I need to borrow someone's for a day."
Niko suggests to Clara, "If she could get him here, I'm sure Nacippe'd love to have you steal Sochos. For longer than a day, even. Poor lady needs a -break-, from what Losi's letters have said."
Riley is endlessly helpful, "Anya's got one. You could borrow her. Anya -really- loves it if you take said kidling puddlehopping after the spring rains, you know when it's all muddy?"
Rhys arrives from the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Niko casts an amused look at Riley. "Evil," he proclaims. "More proof."
Rhys stops a salute to Riley on memory, but salutes Clara neatly. Blinking at the crowd, his normal demeanor shows a brief puzzlement, and even tentativeness
Clara looks definitely interested. "Really? That is always fun, too. I could teach the kid how to play the drums, too, for that matter." And have Anya drop an anvil on her discreetly. She peers past the men and starts to rise and automatically return the salute, then stares. "Rhys Valinson..." she murmurs, stunned.
Rhys nods. "Yes, ma'am. I have to arrange a time for a new flight physical, ma'am." From his careful look at the medic, he has not forgotten her, either, but he had more time to anticipate the meeting
Niko's brows lift eloquently at Clara's reaction, and he peers with interest at the newcomer.
Riley nods to Niko pleasantly, "Card carrying force for evil, that'd be me." He waves a polite greeting to Rhys, his chocolate colored eyebrows lifting at the interplay between pilot and medic.
Niko winces, for some reason, and shoots a look at Riley.
Clara clears her throat and straightens the rest of the way, eyes still on the young pilot. "If you ma'am me again, Lieutenant, I'm going to toss a scanner at you. Since when did you stop calling me Clara?" she asks, stepping around the desk and coming forward to extend a hand. "You look good." She glances back and grins. "Sorry guys...Rhys and I went to school together."
Rhys clasps her hand in return, grinning. "Since you rank me, Clara - and ever since I almost didn't get these," he indicates his rank tabs, "for not treating a friend 'with the dignity appropriate to their rank.'" The pilot nods to Riley, with a grin. "Ask him. He had to threaten me to stop the salutes, so you're one better"
Riley offers Niko a dazzlingly innocent smile, it would -almost- be believable if it weren't for the twinkle of amusement in his flecked brown eyes. He ahhs to Clara, "It's a small galaxy, isn't it?" He grins at Rhys, "You could threaten him anyhow, Clara."
Niko can't help but grin in response to Riley's smile, though he clearly doesn't believe the innocence for a moment. To Rhys, he says pleasantly, "I don't believe we've met, sir. Nick Casymed." He shoots the others a look, perhaps in the hopes that they'll leave off the frightening recitation of his full name.
Clara smirks at Riley, shaking her head. "Why? You're a lot more fun to threaten, Chief," she explains, then winks at Niko, not about to attempt his full name, before explaining to Rhys, "I can make an appointment for you, certainly. I've got another appointment coming up shortly, though," she explains.
Rhys nods to Niko. "Rhys Valinson," he smiles. "A pleasure to meet you." Then the pilot looks over at Clara, "Not too long, I hope? My current one expires in a week or two..."
Oh look, what's that? It's a possible method of escape, "Surely the Lieutenants -flight- exam is a rush thing..." Riley has not yet learned to give up, see.
You faintly hear a chime mark the hour.
Clara shoots Riley a look and shakes her head. "Nice try," she mutters and pinches Rhys's cheek. "You're as adorable, if procrastinating, as ever. Indira was nuts to let you get away." She heads back to her desk and bends to tap at her terminal. "How about tomorrow, Rhys? About this time?"
Rhys ducks his head, with a smile. "Thank you, I think. Tomorrow will be fine, yes." He holds up his hands to Riley, with an innocent expression; as if to say, 'Sorry, but... you want /me/ to argue with /her/?'
Riley can't fault Rhys, Clara is the one wielding ultimate power in the form of medical procedures involving words ending in such things as -eculum, and -otomy. "I'd step in here and make a joke about posting a memo about procrastination, and then putting it off, but I'd be stooping to the level of these two," he gestures towards Niko and Clara, "And their host of bad jokes."
Niko says mildly, "I make -one- bad joke..."
Rhys chuckles softly. "Not my fault," he avers. "We gave her a joke book one year."
Clara mutters something about procrastination being the better part of valor, then grins up. "Which I still have," she adds with a wink, then straightens slowly and tugs at her lab coat, eyes falling on Riley pleasantly. "Guess what, Chief."
Riley grins at Niko, offering a mildly apologetic look. "Maybe you're just falling in with bad company is all." He hmms at Rhys, "Did that help an..." He trails off at Clara's words, a sense of dread suddenly dropping onto him like a ton of bricks wrapped in orange ribbon, "You've decided to let me off the hook?" Last ditch efforts still must be made.
Rhys looks puzzled at this last exchange. What could possibly..?
Niko starts to get to his feet, the better to clear out of the medbay. "Have fun, Chief. I'm on duty before all that much longer, so I'd better go find a uniform." He grins suddenly. "Though it'd be fun to see Anya's reaction to this." He gestures vaguely to his shirt.
Clara steps around the desk and squeezes Niko's shoulder on the way past, protesting, "That'd make a great uniform. Very...cheerful. Grab a seat if you'd like, Rhys. There's a fair approximation of coffee in the synthesizer." she offers, then comes to grin down at Riley, albeit not far. "Nope. Up and at 'em, soldier. It's time."
Rhys pauses before pouring. "If you don't mind, Chief...?"
Riley is briefly distracted from his impending doom by contemplation of Anya's reaction to Niko's shirt. "You really ought to try it some time, but when I can watch. She'd be so distressed..." He sighs quietly at Clara, clambering to his feet. "Vicious woman." He shakes his head at Rhys, "Not in the slightest. You can keep an eye out for Chief Honalee trying to descend on me."
Rhys grins, pouring a mug of the coffee. "Sir, yes, sir."
Niko offers a grin to Riley. "Later, when you can watch. Gotcha, Chief. Next time I get a morning off, or something--and no, that wasn't a shameless plug. Have fun, folks." Lifting a hand, he heads for the exit.
Niko heads towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Clara winces at the sir sandwich, then beams at the mention of the Edreeni woman. "You can't miss her, Rhys. She's -wonderful-," she exclaims, leading the way to a bioscan area and catching up a stethoscope to hook around her neck. "Riley," she calls, turning about. "Over here, Chief. I can't do this at a distance," she explains calmly, warming the end of the stethoscope.
The grin Riley had sent after Niko quickly fades at Clara's summons, but agreeably he pads over to the indicated location, paperwork still tucked under one arm. "She's not wonderful, she's sadistic." The protest is ritualized and holds no real malice.
Rhys chuckles softly. "There are certainly a lot of.. interesting people here. I met a fascinating Ambassador yesterday"
Clara tugs the curtain closed, noting with a smirk, "I can still get a male intern here if you want," before turning and holding out her hands. "The files, please? I'll put them where you can see them, but you can't hold on to them. Who'd you meet, Rhys?" she calls over the curtain.
Riley regards Clara with a mildly suspicious look, being paranoid is his job. He does however hand over the file folder. "A lot of the ambassadorial types are...fascinating. Fascinatingly obnoxious."
Rhys takes a moment to dredge up the name. "K.. Kaladreama Jome Odin, if I remember all of it aright. The Vidrian"
Clara sets the files on a chair nearby, well within sight and tugs the scanner from its holster at her best. "Put your hand against this," she suggests, holding it out. "Resting heartrate and blood pressure. And painless," she assures with a small smile. "That's one serious name."
Now that's a name Riley recognizes, "Ahh, the fashion disaster. Yeah, she's unique indeed." Absently he does as he's told, setting his palm on the scanner.
Clara pulls it away after it beeps obligingly and notates the results on a clipboard set with the instruments. "Blood pressure's good...heartrate's a little higher than it should be for someone your size. Height?"
Rhys laughs softly. "Very serious," he agrees, "though she seemed more flighty than serious in herself." He grins. "And her clothes.. well.. they were certainly her own"
Okay, he's looking for a good flippant comeback, but even Riley can't make anything snide out of his height. "Six-eight," He comments not at all on his heartrate, instead adding to the general discussion in regards to Kaladreama, "She's a fourth floor fluffy. Still, she might be good for something, she's too new to know yet I guess."
Clara checks a reading from the examining table, and glances up at Riley with a faint frown, but doesn't comment as she notates his weight and height, then starts to prepare a hypo. "That's a new species on me. Vidrian? Are they new to the Alliance?"
Rhys smiles slightly. "Probably more pretentious than anything else. She looked like a fairly normal human." He shrugs at the Security Chief's description. "I'm not sure I'd want her representing my diplomatic interests," he notes, "but she seems friendly enough"
Riley's reply relates to the question, although his eyes are locked on the hypo as he attempts to figure out what potentially evil substances it might contain. "Vidar's not -too- new, but it's a little place. They're Terran-stock more or less, although they evolved separately. And pretentious seems to be a fairly common trait among the delegates."
Clara isn't injecting, but rather deftly flips the hypo about and inclines her head. "I have to have a blood sample, Riley," she murmurs. "Tug your collar down, please? Or you can remove your shirt, your choice. I'll need you to do that in a moment anyway." Raising her voice again, she calls over, "You were rather more one to represent your own interests, if I remember right anyway, Rhys."
Riley is in no hurry whatsoever to be removing clothing. He unbuttons the high collar, tugging it down. "We should get you a nice cloak, Clara. And you could go around saying, "I vahnt to take your bluhd"." He's -trying- to be cheerful, really.
Rhys chuckles softly. "Well," he replies, "someone has to. Might as well be myself. Otherwise I'd spend forever writing letters"
Clara laughs easily and does just that, pressing the hypo to the Chief's neck for a moment, then turning to inject the sample into the computer for a reading. "Sorry, I like garlic. I'm afraid I just don't fit the bill." She lifts her hands, eyes going distant as she checks lymph nodes and glands in the neck, then pause to check the pulse manually before shaking her head. "More letters? Only literate pilot I know, really," she attests, snickering.
Riley hmphs softly in amusement, holding carefully still lest Clara decide to wring his neck instead, "Literacy's overrated."
Rhys snorts. "Mmm. Well, beautiful medics are hard to come by, too, so there we are, then." He stands, stretching. "If you two will excuse me," the pilot calls through the curtain, "I've got a mission brief in a quarter-hour"
Clara steps back and gestures lightly. "Okay, off with the shirt, please," she requests, hooking the stethoscope in her ears before blinking back at the curtain, and actually blushing. "Uh-huh. Still the charmer," she mutters, amused. "Take care, Rhys. I'll see you in here tomorrow for yours, okay?"
Riley murmurs a polite farewell to the pilot, "Good luck, Lt."
Rhys nods, with a grin. "If I miss it, I don't get to fly. I'll be here. And luck to you, chief"
Rhys heads towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Riley goes about the process of taking off his shirt. This is a two-layered process, as first he's got to get the uniform top off, and then the t-shirt with the hawaiian shirt wearing penguin off as well. He does so with an economy of movement, looking somewhat less than thrilled. "Check."
Clara shakes her head rapidly to clear away the flush, then turns back and lifts her brows, amused. "I like the penguin," is her only comment, and she steps in to press the prewarmed disk against the skin just below one collarbone. "Deep breath, please. Any pain or shortness of breath during strenuous activity lately?"
"I like penguins, my kid sister sends me the shirts." Riley takes the pre-requisite deep breath, starting to answer. Of course, Niko's timing is truly -priceless- and he all but chokes at that exact moment in a fit of laughter. Offering an apologetic look and tapping his ear-receiver by way of explanation he fumbles for his comm-unit.
Riley says "Nick, you have truly -classic- timing. I think a camera is most assuredly called for." His tone is hopeful, "Need help?" into his communit.
Clara chuckles and shakes her head, moving the disk to another spot. "Well, I suppose that counts as a deep breath. Can I take that for a no? Give me another one, please. Everything okay?"
Riley's communit crackles to life and announces "... actually... see. I... a bit... levity.... interesting." in Niko's voice.
Riley grumbles softly, still amused however, "Remind me, please, to kill Niko in a particularly vile fashion." He pauses, "After we get caught up on paperwork that is. He's being evil. No, no pain or shortness of breath." He tabs the communit again and then takes the requested second breath.
Riley says "Nick, that was -cruel-... *snicker*" into his communit.
Riley's communit crackles to life and says "I'm... trying..." in Niko's voice.
Clara snickers cheerfully. "You folks are even more bizarre than a passel of surgeons," she decides and heads around to the other side of the table. "You can't kill him, anyway. Anya would unload on you for making her find you another assistant." She's learned the power of Anya. She starts to put the disk to a spot on Riley's back and pauses silently.
"Anya would come up with some fitting punishment, yes. She likes the kid." Riley pauses as well as Clara moves to the other side of the table. He glances back, offering an apologetic look, "Hard to find a spot for the doo-dad, hrm?" He seems relatively blase about the roadmap of vivid red scars.
Clara looks up at the glance, perhaps more serious than she has been since her flight landed. "You could say that," she agrees, then peers down again, dropping the scope to trace a few of the lines without touching them. After a moment, she pulls the amplifiers from her ears and leaves them around her neck. "Have any of the other medics seen that?"
Riley nods, reaching up to rub at his forehead lightly a moment. "Yeah, right after it happened. Honalee gave the standard band-aid spiel and shot me full of antibiotics to keep them from going sour. I was rather mortified at the time."
Clara swallows heavily and finishes her examination of the scars, then nods slowly. "They worked too. No infection, but if you've been going without any sort of topical analgesic, you're a brave brave man." She turns away to scoop up the pair of shirts and hold them out. "There's only one thing I know causes marks like that," she says quietly. "Let me know if you ever want to talk about it? Professionally, I mean."
Riley accepts his shirts, tugging them back on. "What's to talk about? Lexington got annoyed, I got annoyed back, he decided to pull some strings and I got shafted with administrative punishment instead of another mark on my record." He goes about re-buttoning the uniform top, "Oh I'll admit, I was really displeased at first. Public lashes are -not- good for the ego, but I've written it off as another stage in the great game."
"I see," Clara replies after a moment of thought. "No, I imagine that was rather rough on the ego," she agrees in that maddeningly bland voice. "You might want to think about why you wrote it off so easily, though," she notes, turning away to tap at the terminal face for a printout, eyeing it as she turns back. "Riley, you're a good twenty pounds underweight for your frame and height. Your bloodstream is more caffeine than hemoglobin, and you're showing full signs of sleep deprivation."
Ah, another reason to avoid medical exams. People tend to tell you things you don't want to hear. Riley looks rather sheepish, attempting an excuse, "It's an Interegnuum." Mind you, his habits were bad before as well, but he can -try-.
Clara attaches the printout to the clipboard and looks up with a single raised brow. "Tell me something I don't know. I also know that you need a day off. A night off at least." She grins then, a bit of humor returning. "My prescription is a full day off, preferably in the company of something short, cute, and blonde, and stuff yourself with several meals of something protein-laden. But I'll settle for being able to drag you down to the dining hall right now since frankly, I'm starving."
Riley pauses a full beat, before wondering aloud. "I wonder if Anya'll lend me the cocker spaniel. It's short, cute, blonde..." He's trying desperatly to look serious, but it's really hard to look serious when you're all but biting your lip to keep from laughing. He slides to his feet lightly, reaching over to reclaim his file folders. "The dining hall after main session's out, Clara you're a daring soul."
Clara makes a rude noise. "I -didn't- mean anything with -that- much fur," she notes bluntly, then grins up. "Hey, daring's my middle name. I got you in here for an exam, didn't I? C'mon, I'll buy you dinner, boss." She tugs the curtain back and scoops up the clip board to be secured in her desk. "Now march!"
"Besides, Anya won't let me play with the dog anymore after the incident with the Zaeltans," Riley muses quietly, adjusting the collar on his uniform to appropriate military exactness. Fat lot of good that does him when the whole uniform effect is ruined by running shoes, but hey. "I'm marching, I'm marching. Just don't sic Honalee on me."
Clara mutters something about matchmaking, a fairly wicked gleam of amusement in her eyes. "I won't, but only if you promise to eat a good dinner," she announces and heads for the door, unbuttoning her lab coat.
You head towards the Second Floor Elevator Lounge.
Riley arrives from the Medical Bay.
You head towards the Dining Facility.
Riley arrives from the Central Atrium.
Niko, despite the fact that he's on-duty, is nonetheless seated at the back of the dining hall, at one of the smaller tables. He's got a plate of what he must have had the other day--it's green--untouched before him, though he's contemplating it.
Riley comes padding in after Clara, looking not -entirely- pleased with being in the dining hall at an hour he usually avoids it. At this time of day it's heavily patronized by people he spends most of his time avoiding -- diplomats.
Clara heads in purposefully, Riley in tow, and smiles brightly at Niko and weaving in and out of groups of diplomats heading for the synthesizers. "Now...what do you like? Besides chocolate," she snaps in before that answer can be given.
Niko would not normally be aware of newcomers, what with the diplomatic traffic and all, but Riley's rather noticeable, and Clara's... well, Clara. He returns the smile, albeit tightly, and waves vaguely in the general direction of the empty chairs at his table.
Sidestepping a couple of chattering Stilvani, Riley all but harrumphs, "I can snag food on my own, promise. I'm not clueless, just time-deprived." He pokes at one of the units, dialing up a burger and fries. Niko's grandmother will just have to be offended, they're slathered in tziziki. He then moves to go begin negotiating with a vending machine for a can of soda.
Clara considers the selection with a faint smirk, and nods approvingly. Annoy them into helping themselves. Very satisfactory results. She starts to tap in a selection for herself, then pauses as her comm unit bleeps at her and peers down at it. "Ah, hells," she mutters. "Excuse me, Chief," she blurts and turns to pelt for the door, darting around delegates and waving rapidly at Niko.