| Duty Before Displeasure |
| Summary: | Rime requests access to the infamous Leonis video from the MPs. Many daggers are glared. |
| Date: | 4 Jul 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | The Public Weal, Duty Before Displeasure, Pt. II, Duty Before Displeasure, Pt. III. |
| Players: |
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| Security Hub - Deck 6 |
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| 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: #128 |
There never is a 'quiet' time in the Security Hub, these days- between ongoing investigations, camera monitoring, and processing of Leonis survivors.. but if ever there was a 'more quiet' time, the hour before dinner is certainly not it. Constin is the marine on duty, presently emerging from the interrogation room, while holding a file open for perusal in one calloused hand.
And what better way to quiet things further than introduce Lieutenant Rime, tall and prim in her duty blues, to the mix? She strides purposefully toward the Security Hub counter, a few folded papers caught between slim fingers. She places them upon the counter, folds her hands upon them, and waits, her intent gaze at odds with her otherwise placid composure.
Constin takes note of the newly arrived officer by stopping his steps. Narrow blue eyes note the rank, face, and deposit of papers on the counter. Lieutenant. Rime. Here on ship's business. The sergeant's single, flat word of acknowledgment is: "Sir." The file in his hand is shut by the snapping closed of his left hand.
Rime was standing straight before — but somehow, as the Marine looks her way, her spine finds another few fractions of an inch. Lagoon-blue eyes study the man's uniform for a moment before returning to his face. "Sergeant. I require access to the videotape recovered from Leonis. Here-" The first piece of paper is unfolded, neatly smoothed along the crease, and overturned. "-is the request, and here-" The second piece of paper is given the same treatment. "-are my qualifications for said access. They are a formality, of course, but I thought it best to be thorough." Her mouth curves slightly at the edges, but neither of them would consider it a smile.
"Your name's on the clearance list. Sir," Constin confirms even before unfixing his stare on Rime and looking toward the appropriate papers. "As per standard procedure with sensitive materials, there is to be an Em-Pee in your presence at all times, while your access is granted. Sir." The file he'd been carrying is set back on Cadmus' desk, en route to picking up Rime's revealed papers. A curt look goes from Rime, to paper, to second paper and back to Rime. "What manner of access will you be requiring. Sir."
As smooth and unflappable as a flag mounted behind glass — until a brief flicker of surprise comes and goes. "So I /am/ on the clearance list." Her eyes focus on some distant point as she nods, more to herself than the Marine. "Good." She settles into parade rest, looking more comfortable there than she had with her fingers folded in front of her. "If a research station has been set up for the investigations, I'll require that. Otherwise, any modern workstation within Engineering will suffice. I'd like to request the presence of Lance Corporal Maragos, please. He took my report regarding the night of the mutiny and seems committed to due process over ambition."
Constin's rigid neutrality takes a turn toward the dour with those last words. His chin drops slightly, shifting what had been staring straight ahead into more of a glare. "You can request any Em-Pee you like. Sir. However, when you file that request, ah'd recommend not phrasing it in such a way as to imply that all OTHER Em-Pees are *not* committed to due process, over ambition. Sir."
Another flicker of emotion comes and goes in Rime's eyes, her mouth shifting fractionally as a comment is trapped by the edges of her teeth, caught struggling there, then swallowed down again. "Of course," she says, easily enough. "I have time this evening after my shift. I'll be by before dinner break with the necessary paperwork to make sure it's all in order by then. Thank you for your assistance, Sergeant." Her parade rest breaks to a gentle swing of arms at her side.
"Ah'll be plain, there's not a lot of chance Lance Corporal Maragos will be available for this assignment. Sir," Constin returns. "If Maragos is not assigned to this, you can still access the materials in the company of whichever Em-Pee is on duty and assigned to it. Sir." Woodenly, the big marine raises his right hand to offer the appropriate salute in parting. His expression does not sweeten.
"Of course. We all make due with what we can." Rime lets a second or two tick by, watching Constin salute without returning it — then pulls herself into a smooth, snappy salute of her own. She turns on her heel, then, and makes her way out the door. As she passes through the threshhold between Security Hub and the corridor beyond, she shakes her arms briskly, as if trying to shed a layer of tension still clinging to her.
Constin turns back tothe desk, planting the knuckles of his left hand on the tabletop for a solid instant before scooping up Rime's paperwork. Scowling openly now, the sergeant pulls a breath in through clenched teeth and tries to recall what he had been doing thirty seconds earlier.