| PHD #409: Elf In A Box |
| Summary: | Khloe checks up on Constin, and then they talk about an ongoing investigation. |
| Date: | 11 Apr 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Incidents of Various Sorts |
| Players: |
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| Enlisted Marine Berths - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Designed specifically to house a small Marine contingent, this berthing is one of the smallest on the ship. The bunks are arranged in standard formation in the classic over-under configuration and lockers dividing each one. However, the lockers here are a bit larger than most elsewhere on the ship to accommodate the bulky combat gear associated with the security details of the crew that lives here. Tables are spread out for use through the area with their standard allotment of chairs. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #409 |
Constin has spent enough time in Sickbay for a dozen lifetimes. Thus, after being processed and inspected upon return to the ship the medstaff (already practiced with the symptoms of the recently returned Circe) released the big sergeant to his bunk on the explicit understanding that he is not yet cleared for work.
Parked in the same bunk he has occupied since coming aboard a year and a lifetime ago, Elf is painstakingly re-lacing a battered pair of service boots, bare above the belt. Fair skinned and haired, the Canceron's scarred hide shows what appears to be a nasty sunburn.
Stepping into the enlisted berths is a certain leggy brunette, dressed in her duty blues. A few 'sirs' get fired off quickly, but the woman waves them off. "Don't worry, Private, I'm not here to puke in anyone's bunk," she says in her usual clipped alto, which of course illicits a few chuckles from the men. It's odd how she finds her sense of humor amongst enlisted men and women who are of a completely different branch of the military, but, there you are. Khloe Vakos scans the berths quickly, and gray-blue eyes quickly spot what she's looking for. Or, in this case, whom. "Gunnery Sergeant," she calls out as she approaches. Immediately she holds out a hand, palm forward. "No need to get up. This is an informal visit."
"Cap'n," Constin grunts in greeting, the raised hand indeed staying his reflexive effort to climb to his feet. Instead, he glances down and feeds the head of a bootlace through an eyehole. "What's the word, sir?" he drawls a moment later.
"You look like you've been on those rich folk beaches from back home, Constin," Khloe states with a hint of morbid amusement in her voice. Might as well try to make light of what is no doubt a crappy situation all around. "Was wondering how they treated you over there, is all. Illegal arrests are usually followed by illegal treatment."
"Heh," Constin rumbles, cracking a tight grin and answering with eyes still on his re-lacing boots. "The ones with the fences around them, with the big assed 'Trespassers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law' signs on 'em?" He glances up, grin lingering a moment longer on his face. Despite her latter question, he adds one further comment on the subject of home. "Funny to remember a time when I was the one breaking rules. Holy shit, but we're old, sir." A nod as he passes onto the subject of the Areion. "Heavier interrogation than standard. Told them up front it were an illegal detainment, and I considered m'self a hostile prisoner. they got tired of 'name, rank, serial number' after awhile, just left the klaxons on." A slow roll of his right shoulder accompanied by a wince. "No surprise, really. They didn't care much for following rules."
Khloe scowls at the mention of klaxons. "So, in other words, what the politicians back home call 'enhanced interrogation techinques', eh." She shakes her head, looking none-too-pleased. "I'm guessing they cooked you with that Gun of theirs trying to see if you'd turn into a pile of Cylon goo." Another disapproving frown.
"Think it were four sessions in the reactor. Hot as a rock in summer. Maybe five or six hours apiece over two days," Constin drawls, before adding, "Don't quote me on the time, though. Forgot my chronometer in the bunk," he jests deadpan. A nod after he considers a moment. "Yeah, that's probably about right. 'Enhanced interrogation'. Stopped short of torture, unless you count listening to Kepner's frakking voice torture."
"If you think Kepner's voice is nails on a blackboard, you should've heard me screaming at Major Finch over the wireless yesterday," Khloe offers, hopefully continuing to lighten the tough Marine's spirits. "He didn't take me very seriously, but I made sure I gave him an earful before he hung up."
"No shit, sir?" Constin drawls, evenly. The grin has slipped from his face by now, after an unusually durable run. "Worried as it gets about how these boats are supposed to get along now. You know well as I do what happens when folk start ignoring military hierarchy. Chain of command. Discipline. Areion brass decided they knew best and didnt need to follow the rules- frak the consequences." His look beneath the flush of color has gone back to his familiar stern neutrality. "This ain't gonna end well, sir."
Khloe nods slowly. "You're right about that, Sergeant. You gloss over the rules, you skip over what's inconvenient and start doing things half-assed, and the next thing you know, we're dead. I'm not about to stand for it, I tell you what." Pulling a chair over a few feet and turning it away so she can face the back towards Constin and straddle it, resting her forearms on the back of it, she adds, "Major Hahn told me that it's looking over your shoulder that'll get you killed. Gotta trust your wingman. And normally, I agree. But I think this will end up being Cerberus versus Areion. I just… have that hunch."
"I follow orders, sir. Same as you," Constin states the obvious before moving past it. "But I'm getting the same sick feeling. Had hoped that Abbott business was the last time I'd ever have to point a gun at another marine." A shake of his head. "It ain't got a damn thing to do with what they did to me- shit, I go through worse before breakfast, some days- Just can't trust them. Wing and the Corp ain't got much in common, but we got this: if you can't trust your squad, you're frakked." A drawn breath. "Areion clearly got no frakking trust in us and right about now, I'm feeling the same."
"Speaking on matters of trust," Khloe says, "If it's not too much trouble right now, Sergeant, I need to hear your story regarding threats against civilians for being 'Cylon lovers' and such. I'm talking about Lieutenant Ellinon. Major Hahn briefed me on that but suggested you might be able to explain in greater detail. I can wait until you're back to full duty, if you'd prefer."
"Frak that, sideways," Constin snorts to the subject letting the matter lie. "We need order on this boat now, more than ever." His ruddy countenance set in a stern stare, he prompts, "What has the Major already told you?"
"She told me that there was a civilian, which was not named, that was supposedly threatened by Lieutenant Ellinon?" Khloe seems uncertain. "Major Hahn was rather imprecise and inscruitable, tough to get any more information on the subject. But I know one of my pilots is possibly involved in conduct unbecoming, so I need to get your input."
Constin draws a slow breath, exhaling it with equal deliberation. "While this is an ongoing investigation, and therefore I cannot disclose full information to you, sir.. I can tell you that regarding the civilian, he made the claim that 'innocent until proven guilty' was a 'frakking heap of bullshit'. That him and others were watching, and that the law wouldn't protect 'cylon-lovers'." A freshly drawn breath. "He's also been reported to directly state he believes another pilot to be a cylon, and threatened to kill them, given a reason. now," he drawls, "Threatening to kill someone if they turn out to be a cylon ain't a crime, which is likely why the Major didn;t touch on that part."
"Ongoing investigation," Khloe repeats, mulling that over. "So I can't actually go after him with anything, yet. All right, that's good to know," she states, nodding. "I'll keep an eye on his behavior, but I've never known him to make threats like this. Is there anything I can do as his superior officer?"
Constin shakes his head to the first and nods to the second. "You absolutely can, sir. I didn't bring anything to the Cag that wasn't actionable. Frankly, I'd much rather you all have a shot at correcting this, before something gets done that will force me to step in. Cause if I have to step in after another incident? It will go worse." A drawn breath, "As his superior officer? You can enforce whatever corrective measures you judge appropriate."
"I'm just leery of 'letting the cat out of the bag', so to speak. But I can confront him about it, and see how he reacts," Khloe says. "I've been fortunate enough that I've not had to discipline anyone formally since I became the Knights SL."
"Sir, from where I'm sitting it don't hurt to let him know he's being watched," Elf opines. "I'd much rather an officer of the Colonial fleet get his ass kicked back on the straight and narrow, rather than waiting for him to commit treason." Arresting shipmates not being as high on the MaA's list of hobbies as some might imagine.
Khloe shakes her head. "Ellinon is a good pilot; one of our best. His attitude, however, needs adjustment. And I don't just say that because of this incident." There's volumes unsaid; Khloe isn't in the business of airing dirty laundry of anyone. Still, it looks like she has more to say, but stows it. "Thanks for your thoughts, Constin. I'll leave you be."
"Which is why I brought this to Major Hahn," constin relates, with a nod. "Last thing I want is to pull a combat pilot off the line when we're short handed." A moment later, he adds, "Or.. anytime it ain't absolutely necessary, for that matter." A dry sniff follows, before he notes in parting, "Until another day, sir."