PHD #443: A Manner of Old School
Log Title
Summary: A Manner of Old School
Date: 15 May 2042 AE
Related Logs: He is Not a Coward, Just Following Orders
Players:
Constin Corrath 
JAG Liason's Office - Deck 6
This smallish styled office was once made use of by the Master-at-Arms to conduct his business and oversee the MP's. As of late, the S2 has been making use of it, as is evident by the stacks of paperwork that seem to be accumulating on the desk. To the side, a secured cabinet can be see and a table with the never-ending Marine Coffee Pot <tm>. Across from the desk, two simple chairs are present for those who visit, while behind the desk, a much larger and more comfortable chair can be seen.
Condition Level: 3 - All Clear
Post-Holocaust Day: #443

For the time being, Corrath has been alternating his time between this office and the Naval Offices, to ensure that he's able to deal with both the Marines and his fellow JAG Officers. And, until such time as Marine Command tells him to buzz off. At this particular point in time, he's found himself seated behind his desk, hatchway open and his face buried in a book, apparently reading something and then jotting down a couple of notes.

Constin is at the start of his swing through ship's business preparing for his impending absence, and among the first stops is the office of one Corrath O'Hare. "Sir," he drawls in greeting. "You got a few to spare?" the big man wonders evenly.

Upon hearing the voice of the Gunny, Corrath's lifting his eyes from the book so as to settle it atop the desk before a hand is motioning for the large man to come in and take a seat. "Sure thing, Gunny. Come on in and grab a chair." Leaning back in his own, his hands come to clasp together over his stomach as he watches the other man. "What can I do for you?"

"Wanted a consult with you on something, sir," Constin mutters as he steps in and settles into the offered chair with a nod of thanks. "You familiar with how David Wright landed hisself in sickbay, yesterday?" he begins.

"Oh?" Is the immediate reply from Corrath, his brow lifting upwards before he's giving a slight shake of his head at the question, "'fraid not. Haven't heard anything offical or even unoffical on what might have happened." Pause. "Wanna fill me in?"

Constin nods once. "It ties in sideways to another issue I had. He got into a physical altercation with Chief Damon. Apparently, the Chief weren't too disposed to let Wright have his job back after he got drummed out of Flight for that mutiny business. Blows got struck." A drawn breath. "While I gotta say the Chief's refusal makes sense, taken together with another incident, this violence makes me wonder how steady his head is ticking, sir." A fresh breath is drawn. "Spoke with the Chief last week on the subject of Tyr Bannik. Asked whether he planned to give Bannik a slap on the wrist for abandoning his post. The fella looked me in the eye and refused, because he believes Bannik deserting was 'the Will of the Gods'. His exact words, sir."

As the incident is explained, Corrath is offering a soft groan as his hands unclasp so that one can lift upwards to rub lightly against his face, "Blows? Seriously? Mr. Wright -assaulted- Chief Damon?" That seems to surprise the JAG and when his hand lowers, there's a soft grunt, "Somehow .. I'm not surprised that Specialist Bannik got off without a slap on the wrist. This nonsense he's been sprouting seems to have overshadowed the issue of what he actually did."

"Apparently.. Might have been the other way around, sir," Constin notes pointedly to the summary of 'Wright assaulted Damon'. A drawn breath. "Sir, I don't need to point out just how bad a precedent it is to allow 'the Gods willed it' for abandoning your post in battle. I honestly am at a bit of a dead end. Only thing I can think to do is press charges of Frat for unequal treatment on Damon, but even that ain't gonna fix the problem." A terse breath let out. "I'm trying to kick folk back into line, sir. If you got any advice, I'd be glad to hear it."

The mention of things going the other way in terms of the assault has Corrath's brow lifting once more, even as his head tilts a touch to the side, "Now that is something I find surprising." Hands reclasp in his lap as he gives another quick nod. "Oh, I know what type of precedent it's going to set." He goes quiet there, a soft 'hrmm' escaping his lips, "Charges of Frat? What grounds." A hand lifts, giving a slight wave to indicate that it's not important. "Well, as all import as religion is, Gunny, it has no place running the laws of the Military. The Chief shouldn't be letting things slide based on that."

"On the grounds of what you just said sir," Constin notes when asked about the grounds for a Frat charge. "He showed improper favoritism to Bannik based on religious grounds. That's a violation of the Fraternization policy. Like I said before: I don't answer to Colonel Zeus. But since the Chief flat out dismissed the charges against Bannik, I'm down a shaft without a shovel when it comes to reining in Bannik."

"Here I was hoping there was something more to it," is the immediate reply from Corrath as he gives a shake of his head, "But it wouldn't hold. At all. I'm sure of it." A moment of consideration is taken before he's offering the Gunny a nod of his head, "We've got a couple of options, Gunny. The first is that I can speak with Chief Damon and advise him that Religious actions have no bearing on military decisions. The second .." There's a faint cluck of his tongue, ".. is to check and see if Senior JAG is willing to press their own charges."

Constin lets out a short breath, "Shit." That's his reaction to the notion that the charge wouldn't stick. "If you think you can get through to him better than me, sir, have at. But he seemed real convinced. Threw around words like 'hope' like they was candy. He's buying into Bannik as the frakking mouthpiece of damned deliverance, from what I could see." Scorn colors the words, alongside sheer confusion. "As for Senior Jag, that's way outta my territory."

"Gods damnit. I was frakkin afraid that this shit was going to get out of control and that people were going to start lining up on either sides of the room. Some supporting Bannik. Some not." A shake of Corrath's head is given as he begins to lean forward, hands coming to settle on his desk. "I'll deal with Chief Damon. I'll let him know that if we even get a scent of him playing favorites because he's bought into this load of bullshit that Bannik is speaking, that I'll him and the Specialist pinned to the wall." The mention of the Senior JAG drops a nod. "Ya, I know. But it's my territory, Gunny. Seems I need to have a conversation there, to ensure were prepared for things."

"Yeah," Constin grunts flatly as Corrath outlines the nightmare scenario. "Worried about the same, m'self. That little bastard keeps talking like there ain't no hope for humanity except buying into his hippie shit. Came upon a civvie who'd made mass copies of his letter, posting them on Elpis and I keep seeing the damn things on Cerb, too."

"If this keeps up Gunny, we're going to be at war with each other. The Cylon's won't need to chase us any longer." That draws a resigned sigh from Corrath's lips before he's giving a nod, "Ya, I've seen the copies that have been made." A hand lifts, motioning to the book on his desk. "I'm looking through the more obscure law to see if there isn't anything that can be done to prevent it."

"Anything you need from me, I'll do my damndest, sir," Elf returns to that last. "Ain't the message that I take such exception to, really.. It's the frakking lack of discipline." A shake of his head. "It's a real bitch trying to hold together a world that folk are trying so frakking hard to bust apart, yeah?"

"I'll keep that in mind, Gunny. I think you're going to have your hands full trying to prevent everyone on this boat from wanting to strangle people. Don't envy you." To that, there's another shake of Corrath's head. "Depending on how things go with the Chief, I may ask for your MP's to take some action. Won't know until I get to speak with him and see what the frak is running through his head."

Constin nods once. "Understood." A bullish exhale through the nose, and Elf climbs again to his feet. "Unless you got more for me, sir, think I'ma get further down the checklist of 'shit needs doing', today."

When Elf begins to rise to his feet, Corrath is doing the same so that a hand can be extended across the table towards the man. "You get left with a pile of shit, Elf, but I know you'll make the best of it." There's a quirk of his lips to a smile and when he speaks next, the words are edged with jest. "If that checklist happens to include teaching Bannik a lesson in a manner of old school, I'm sure the paperwork could be lost should it come this way."

"Some days I almost wish I were that sort of fella," Elf mutters back on the subject of Bannik. "But then I'd have to detain myself, and damnation if I wouldn't be disappointed in me," he notes, with a forced edge of bone dry humor. The offered hand is taken in a firm, brief clasp, and the MaA is on his way.

That reply is expected and Corrath can't help but allow a low chuckle to escape his lips as he gives a nod of his head,

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License