PHD #236: Dressing Down Part I
Dressing Down Part I
Summary: The only thing worse than a dressing down is knowing that one's coming.
Date: 10 Oct 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Lysander Vandenberg Madilyn 
Security Hub - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
More than just an office for the Marines and their XO, this room has remote surveillance views of the Brigs as well as a state of the art communications center built into the far bulkhead. A locked and heavily armored door to the aft leads into another room, the white lettering on it reading 'ARMORY.' There are a few desks scattered around the room for getting necessary paperwork done and the Commandant's picture hangs on the wall next to one of the President.
Post-Holocaust Day: #236

Sergeant Lysander is on his way out of the armory for one reason or another. Given that he is in his black battle-dress, one could safely say that he is returning to off-duty one way or another. It's technically in the dead of the night, for what it's worth given the lack of being dirt-side. With some fashion of an afterthought and after the rest of his squad have moved onward, he gives pause to his steps and glances to the left and right. There's a wince. So the marine ends up standing there, casting his gaze downwards, thoughtfully so, looking at the palms of his hands.

"What? You forget to powder your palms before you head back to your bunk, Sergeant?" Vandenberg offers on her way out of the armory past Lysander. She's in her blacks as well, working shifts with the platoon to learn the ship. She heads to a desk and reaches for a drawer as she casts a teasing grin back at the man coming off duty.

The plan had been to catch a few specific officers as they came off patrol for the evening. The middle of the night, even. Despite that, Madilyn's kept herself up with a few extra cups of coffee and a shift-change for her own duty hours. Abandoning the desk in the main office for a seat at the monitors in the SecHub, Madilyn lets the two banter a bit, not yet injecting herself into the conversation.

Lysander flexes his right hand's fingers and then the left, looking from one to the other before glancing aside. It's a passive and despondent look. "I'm perfectly fine, Sir," is murmured by the man., ignoring his hands for that moment. He only imagined the shaking. He balls them into fists but by the time they are lowered to his side they are held neutrally. There's a spark of him brightening and his tones lighten in reflecting it, "Didn't quite know you cared so much though, blossomin' interest and all." That comment leads into his looking around the hub, casually, before turning back to Vandenberg.

Vandenberg's returns from the drawer with a pack of cigarettes. She taps one out of the soft pack and pops it between her lips, still smirking at the Sergeant. The same hand reaches into her pocket and returns to light the cigarette. The cherry glows red for a moment, her other hand reflexively shielding the flame. She talks around the cigarette for a moment: "Well a delicate flower like yourself just made me concerned. You need those hands, right?" She takes a drag and removes the smoke to dangle between her fingers. "Really. Everything kosher there?" She does seem a little more concerned with the question. But only a little.

"It's very nice of you to be concerned for your compatriot's bunk habits and health, Lieutenant," Madilyn adds to the conversation. Tucked back into the video corner of the room, one might have overlooked her at first. She spins around on the chair there, coffee mug in hand, and stands up to stretch a bit. "How are you finding the ship? Good to be back at it? Patrols, I mean. Some marines have trouble adjusting to the life on board a battlestar, I've found."

"They've helped me to kill men, women, an' children before, yeah. I need them." Lysander speaks up rather casually in spite of the weight of his words, as if he were to joke or tease about it, or be desensitized if it were true. Whatever the reason, it has him easing his shoulders into a low, nonchalant shrug and further speaking up. "But yeah, I ought to be well enough," his jaw tightens, and not just because he hadn't noticed the Major initially and only up until now. He breaks off conversing with one officer to look toward the other, from Natalie to Madilyn. The man squares his shoulders and shifts his weight from one heavy boot to the other. He also respectfully declines commenting with regards to the ship.

"Uh huh. You've probably killed as many babies as I have." Van rolls her eyes a bit, still smiling. She looks like she's about to say more when Madilyn speaks up. The Lieutenant straightens a bit, turning to face the Major. Its a movement that causes her to accidentally ash on the floor. "The less they stress, the less I have to worry, sir." Whatever that means. Ahem. Riiight. She takes a breath and pulls a very official-looking drag of her cigarette. "I haven't been on a battlestar before, sir. I spent my career on the ground. All in all, its like working tunnels except the reception is warmer and I can stand up all the way." The woman wets her lips before continuing. "I think I can speak for my whole fireteam when I say that we are proud as hell to be apart of a ship that isn't tumbling itself to the end of eternity. We're looking to fight, sir, and it would appear we are where the action is."

Nail. Hammer. On the head. "Oh, I know you're looking to fight. Well aware that you're looking to fight." A little too aware of things. Command breathing down her neck sort of aware. "Lieutenant, when your shift tomorrow is over, I absolutely need to have a talk with you regarding certain events that have transpired in the last few days." Madilyn doesn't seem too enthused, nor does she seem particularly happy about things. She just looks tired, and for maybe the first time in her life, like she's on the other side of 40.

As much as Lysander would enjoy mentioning that he hasn't killed babies before, he misses the chance and instead of tosses just another look in Vandenberg's direction. Then, he's focusing on the conversation the two of them are having now that he's removed himself from it. With a bit of wrinkling the bridge of his nose and tightening the corners of his eyes, he makes a noise from the bottom of his throat and gives a proverbial step back into things. By the time he's talking his expression has relaxed, enough to not make it stuck, "I'm sure it don't much involve me, but, either way, you're more than welcome to discuss it in front of me. I don't mind. An' folk have a way of trusting my rugged good looks." There's a pause, before he adds, quietly, "Might have to do with my talent of keeping privy details like such."

Vandenberg simply quirks a brow at Madilyn's remarks. "If you're speaking to the mission a few days back, Major? Not a problem. Ready when you are, sir." The Lieutenant looks all too keyed and ready. She glances to Lysander and nods her head once before turning her attention back to the Marine CO. "Aye, sir. I keep an open book, Major. What effects me, effects the people that follow the orders. I have no problem discussing anything in front of anyone in this unit unless it comes down to pure security concerns."

"That's exactly what I'm speaking to, Lieutenant. This is not the appropriate forum to discuss what needs to be discussed, however. I just wanted to inform you that we will be discussing this matter, and to afford you every opportunity to finalize and file your official reports above and beyond your initial AAR. There are facts that I want to double check so that I can address concerns that have been passed to me." And to discuss it when they're both in a better state of mind, one a little less gung-ho, maybe, and the other a little less ready to drop to the desk and snooze.

"The worlds end and the bureaucracy remains, go figure." It's offhandedly stated by Lysander and the Sergeant clears his throat, nearly heavily so, upon his immediate noticing of what he just said. He still doesn't push the topic, all things considered, and instead takes a half-step forward to nowhere in particular beyond forward. It's better than reversing in retreat. "So," he adds, "We're clear on the it not involving me part, yes?"

"Understood, sir. I'll try to make myself available tomorrow between patrols, though I believe the AAR was correct in its filing." Vandenberg nods once to the Major. "But I need to hit the showers and talk to my Platoon Sergeant now so I can be up early. I'll be in your office at zero-nine-thirty, Major." She taps a quick salute to her temple before taking another drag and heading for the hatch. She casts a glance towards the Sergeant on her way out. "Correct, Sergeant. Anything involving this action clears you from involvement. I had command. Responsibility remains with me." With that, she moves for the hatch.

Madilyn nods curtly, and returns the salute. It's almost like the mug was in her left hand to provide for just such an eventuality. "Zero-nine-thirty, Lieutenant." Then, to Lysander, "She's right. This doesn't involve you, Sergeant. Not directly, at least." What that means…well, leave them to wager a guess. Things should be made much clearer tomorrow.

Lysander inclines his head to the side, turning his gaze from one woman to the other. He slowly shrugs and then offers a clipped nod, which all leads into his relaxing a paltry salute of his own before making his way for the exit. Something is muttered under his breath, along the lines of never witnessing women ighting over him before; it doesn't directly involve him, that is.

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