PHD #292: Blowtorch in a Cake
Blowtorch in a Cake
Summary: Damon gets Shiner out of the brig.
Date: 15 Dec 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Damon Shiner 
Main Brig - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #292
Tiny and cramped, the Main Brig seems designed to be claustrophobic. The steel bars lining the three cells have been set into the steel bulkheads on each side. Inside each cell is a stainless steel toilet and a bunk that might be too short for some of the taller crewmembers. The dreary conditions don't seem to be helped by the presence of a Marine guard who is there twenty-four hours a day, as long as a prisoner is in custody. The whole room is under surveillance via camera system in the Security Hub and every visitor must sign-in and abide by the rules.
Condition Level: 3 - All Clear

"You know," Damon says as he enter the brig, looking through the bars into Shiner's cell, "despite - or maybe due to - all the times I've been pulled out of the brig by my numerous Chiefs, I never dreamt that I'd be going to grab someone out of a cell." He pulls up a chair and sits looking in at the Apprentice, watching him for a moment. "How're you holding up in there?"

"Still kicking, Chief," Shiner allows, giving a wry smile and closing the book beside him. "For what it's worth, though, she hit me first."

Damon chuckles and nods. "That's what the reports say, but I figure I should hear your side of the story before I sign for you," he says with a shrug. "Not that I'm one to talk, but assaulting an officer is bad all around. You're lucky nobody's opted to press charges. I've seen guys burn for that, even if they were just defending themselves."

"Frak, tell me about it, Chief," Shiner replies, rolling his eyes. "You think I don't know that officers get to do whatever the frak they like, and we're the ones that'll always get in the shit for it. Still, I talked to the CAG. She says that the Captain was talking shite, and she totally doesn't have the authority to stop me flying after all. So next time, I can just ignore her."

"So this hasn't busted your chances of going pilot?" Damon asks. "What with brawling with the SL and appearing before the CAG in all your glory, I figured you might throw in the towel."

Shiner stiffens a little. "I thought /you/, Chief, might believe in me, even if none of the rest of those frakkers do."

Damon holds up a hand defensively. "It's not that I don't believe in you, Shiner, it's that I wasn't sure where the CAG stood after these, uh, recent events. As long as the path is open to you, or, I guess another way to put that would be, as long as the CAG didn't say she never wants to see your pretty face again, I'll support you in this as much as I can. Yeah?"

Shiner shakes his head. "Nah, she'll let me fail on my own terms," he proclaims confidently. "But I'm not going to fail. Screw them all and their dumbass tricks. Thanks, Chief. Sorry you've been short on the deck with me in here and all." A half smile. "Still, it's given me a ton of study time."

"You say that like you won't be frakking with people after you get your wings," Damon laughs. "And don't worry about it. Deck's been short all around lately, between the Elpis being commissioned into the Fleet and operations on Tauron. Just get your ass back into a jumpsuit before all the women on the Deck think you already made nugget and start trying to transfer in droves."

"I won't threaten anyone," Shiner vows. "There's having a laugh, then there's being a shit for the sake of it." He grins at that last, rolling his shoulders and gathering his book as he rises. "So, you've come with the file in a cake, right? I've seen the movies, I know how it works."

"I'd end up blowing up the Battlestar if I so much as tried to make a cake," Damon snorts, rising from his seat. "Sorry, Shiner, no fancy stuff today. Hang tight for another few minutes while I sign the paperwork to get you the frak outta here. You can tell everyone back on the Deck that I snuck you in a blowtorch and that you busted your way out, though."

Shiner shrugs amiably. "Paperwork. Blowtorch. Close enough." He moves to lean up against the bars, waiting. "Thanks, Chief, yeah? And if you see your other half, can you ask her to get hold of me? We've got a lot of work to do."

"You know that if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll take out your kneecaps with a sledgehammer," Damon says cheerfully as he walks out. He says it in such a way that it's hard to tell if he's seriously warning Shiner or not. When he returns a few moments later, an MP accompanies him and opens the door to the cell. "You're a free man, Shiner. Best hurry and suit up… your shift came on two hours ago."

"Oh, come on!" Shiner exclaims to that, rolling his eyes. Still, he gives an easy nod. "Sure thing, Chief. I'll pull the spare set from the locker. Besides, you know… define 'the wrong way'?"

"You've had your vacation, now it's back to work," Damon responds with a half-smile. "Not like you'll get any actual work done anyway; everyone'll be flocking around to ask what happened." He pauses in the doorway and looks back over his shoulder. "You'll know it was the wrong way if you see me running down the corridor at you, madly swinging a sledgehammer."

"Got it, Chief," Shiner replies, stepping out of the cell. "Do plenty of running training before I hit on her. Understood."

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