| Keep It Quiet |
| Summary: | Some of the 'mutineers' meet in Sickbay to discuss problems. |
| Date: | 3 June 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Mutiny, Sabotage, Coll, etc |
| Players: |
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| Recovery Room |
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| A much more quiet area of Medical, this elongated room is also lined with beds. Each is similarly outfitted with privacy curtains as necessary and even the paint on the walls has been lightened in an attempt to help lift spirits. Chairs are readily available all over the place so that visitors can pull one up to talk to the patients during their recovery. Near the entrance, visiting hours are posted with a very conspicuous 'No Smoking' sign. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #97 |
Constin had chuckled to himself as Coll was leaving, but several minutes into reviewing the preliminary reports he'd recieved from Cadmus, there's no trace of the grin left on the big man's face. Flipping pages with his left hand, the corporal is keeping tally with a stubby pen in the margin of the printout by the time there is any stirring from the ship's XO.
Tillman finally does wake up and grumble his unhappy self awake. He lifts his head and looks around. No visitors. Even better: no doctors. Excellent. He sits up in the bed and tries stretching to test his mobility. Guy is still a little stiff. "Good times, Corporal. How's things?" The Major turns to settle himself towards the edge of the bed.
"Major," Constin drawls with a sidelong look at the awakening XO. "Things are about to make those Good times a little less so, sir. You in a mood to have your nap spoiled?" he wonders dryly. "Loaded question, ah know.."
"Don't suppose I really have a choice in the matter?" Tillman nearly groans it but manages to settle on the edge of the bed and face Constin. "These damned wounds. I hate getting shot. Frakkin.. this makes five. I need a medal or something." His hand tenderly pats the bandages. The guy is shirtless, too. The big 'MARINES' tattoo over his heart looks like its at least been touched-up in the last few years.
"Hate getting shot almost as much as ah like shooting. It's a vicious cycle," Constin voices with a wry edge coloring his words for an instant before it's back to business. "Sir, the reason ah think we need a manual inventory of everything critical and an inspection of all sensitive areas, is ah have good reason to suspect the ship's security feeds are unreliable. We have what appears to be a counterfeit piece of tape, with a legit Colonial security timestamp on it. And ah have an idea as to how we ended up with it."
"Yeah. I know the feelin. Too bad I can't shoot for shit." Tillman blinks the sleep from his eyes and focuses back on the Marine as he speaks. At the end, his shoulders slump and he looks to the ground. Fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. "Shit." Not what he needed to hear. "Alright, keep going."
Constin doesn't relent with the grim details: "Colonial encryption codes are five hundred and twelve bit, rotating along a pattern so confidential even the computer security boys in the Em-Pees don't have access to it, and couldnt crack it even if they tried. Now, seven days back, during one of the boat's rolling blackouts, power was lost to the secure housing room where this encryption takes place. What ah suspect is that somebody *very* good with computers was standing ready to input a counterfeit piece of tape, which then recieved a legitimate stamp."
"Oh sweet Gods," the XO sighs and looks back to Constin. "So not only do we have a cracked-out hacker with malicious intentions, he knows when there's going to be rolling blackouts. Fan-frakkin-tastic." He slowly slides towards standing off the bed. "What's the tape supposed to show? Something important?"
"The tape in question is of the time and deck section when the warhead which damaged Raptor Three-Oh-Five was removed from a Lightning Javelin missile," Consti answers. "Pee-Oh-Two John Borenstein's prints were later lifted off the housing, which appears to confirm that tampering with the missile did occur during this window of time, as Borenstein is neither recorded nor shown to have worked on the bird in question."
The Major stands and looks around. He takes the IV hangar and moves it so he can settle in the chair next to Constin and talk more quietly. "Borenstein." Tillman takes his time sitting. "So then someone outside those two was working with them. Unless you think it was Morganfield who swapped the tapes? Maragos said that she couldn't verify her where-abouts."
Constin shakes his head. "No sir, nothing in Morgenfield's service jacket suggests she had the know-how to effect the actual counterfeit. She *did* have authorization and proximity to the nearby surveilance closet to get the undoctored footage, but at this time, she is the prime suspect in planting the bomb. No sir, ah suspect the saboteurs on the ground level- Morgenfield and Borenstein, had no idea who their benefactor was. But sir, ah suspect Admiral Abbot would have that knowledge." A drawn breath, "This is where the evidence leaves off and circumspect theory kicks in, sir. ah can save mah breath if you prefer."
Again, Tillman looks around and lower his voice. "Look, Corporal. If it turns out that the Cylons are cloning people or making their own? It presents possibilities we may not have considered. ..Programmable brains? Hacking algorithms. Anyone who could potentially be one of these things? They could be capable of anything. I wouldn't discount Morganfield. As for Abbot? We'll see where that pans to. But if you have theories, let's have it on the table."
Alessandra has arrived.
Tillman is out of his bed and sitting at a chair next to Constin's. Tillman's still got an IV in his arm and he's shirtless, green duty pants the only thing else he's wearing. There's two bandages across his abdomen that look fresh and unbloodied. Guy looks somber, overall.
"Hey, sir," a familiar voice rings out quietly in greeting, Alessandra halting just before where Tillman is as if almost uncertain if she should be here or not. "Mind a bit of company?" Still in the same sleep-rumpled uniform and armed, she looks like shit, albeit nowhere near as bad as those who were injured, her eyes holding dark bags beneath them and her hair left down in a tangled wreck. She gives the Corporal a smile and a brief nod, a minute amount of the uncertainty melting away but not a whole lot.
Tillman looks up, a bit distracted. His face brightens a bit at seeing the woman. "Lieutenant. Hey there. That was some damned fine work last night. Wanted to thank you. That would have been much harder without you." He gestures to a nearby chair. "Pull one up." The man looks back to Constin, then, "Lieutenant Sophronia is the one who brought back the intelligence about potential cylons who look like us. Considering last night, I would trust her to be informed about what is going on and not say a word to anyone." Right?!
"Well, sir-" Constin begins, "Ah'm still not sold on this talk of programming brains. Ah mean you can shove a toaster up a turkey, but that won't make it fly, yeah?" He cuts off whatever he had been about to say when Alessandra walks in. "Sir," he acknowledges evenly. "They shot my saluting hand," he offers by way of explanation for his lack of formality. He nods once to Tillman's vote of confidence in Allie. "Good enough for me, sir."
The gratitude does not sink in for a moment, Lucky's ability to comprehend a bit lagged, it not catching up until the word 'trust' is spoken by the Major. She nods while managing a weak smile and a seat is found and sat upon. "Yes, sir," she finally says, that then concluded by a near-whispered, "It was an honor," that being about last night's events. Clearing her throat, Alessandra shakes her head, this being leveled at Constin. "No need to salute me," she offers. "Not feeling very officer-like right now. So….uh…" Starting to feel uncomfortable, she looks at the MP and then to the XO, her face colored a bit. "How are you both doing?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But considering the evidence we've got, do you want to rule out that something like that strictly is not possible. After all, they aren't people. They're machines. Anyhow, let's have this theory." Tillman motions for him to continue as he asides to Alessandra, "Thank you, regardless. But? I *was* doing better. Then Constin here explained something to me. It would seem we have a serious problem. Someone has been modifying our security feeds on board the ship. Its not just a difficult task, its godsdamned nearly impossible unless you have some damned impressive skills."
"Skills, specific foreknowledge of timing, and a network of collaborators, sir," Constin adds in clarification. Returning his eye To Alessandra, he notes, "In other words, ah've been better, sir." Looking back to Tillman, the corporal voices, "Instead of just being a bad possibility, it looks more and more sure that there will be an organized move against command on behalf of the Admiral. Something this big doesn't run on just four folks. Ah'd like to run a personnel check to see if any crewmen on board Cerberus have served with the admiral before.. whether on Benedict, or Victorian. Not damning if there are, but it doesn;t hurt to keep an eye on any of them, just in case."
Alessandra looks shocked…no, she looks positively frakking horrified at the news Clive just told her, her eyes now wide, her mouth slightly open when her jaw slackens. "Wait…what? Are…is it…you're frakking shitting me, right?" A look is given to Constin and then she puts her head in her hands, her face buried against her palms. The phrase 'it looks more and more sure that there will be an organized move against command on behalf of the Admiral' is particularly chilling and she can feel her ice-filled heart sink quickly into her gut. "They might be able to gain sympathizers in those who voiced their disagreement over our actions," she adds to the conversation, her words slightly mufled, "so we'll need to keep an eye out for any possible strengthening of numbers."
Cadmus has arrived.
Tillman is lookin kinda beat up and shirtless, sitting in a chair next to Constin's bed. The XO has an IV in his arm and a large 'MARINES' tattoo over his heart. Alessandra is sitting next to him looking like dishevelled hell. Shocked, too. Constin is, well, shot up and recovering.
Tillman looks between both Allie and the MP, explaining it carefully. "Okay, so hold on. Let's say that we do have someone modifying video footage that covers their tracks of sabotage and potential espionage. Okay. You guys are the evidence experts and I'll take your word for it. But how does that translate to there being a move against current Command? I understand the -danger- of it, but I also need to hear why you think there is proof of it. I'm not going to allow blanket searches and arrests of this crew on hunches, Corporal." He's still sticking to strict legalities.
"Bullets must be having a frakkin' neck party this week." For once, Cadmus seems to believe there's no standing on ceremony. Sure, there's a quick salute to the XO, but no standing at attention and no waiting to be put at ease, either. He's still wearing the black combat gear, and he's still decked out with tear gas grenades, flashbangs, and the whole kit. "Here, El. Brought you something, figured you could fleece Lucky and the Major outa their pay," he says, lightly tossing a Triad deck down beside Constin. Apparently he knows who Alessandra *is*, even if he's never met her. But after that, he falls silent for a moment; he recognizes this line of news.
"Well, we already have been," Constin clarifies to Allie's last words. The corporal's demeanor reflects the stoicism that comes with carrying this sort of knowledge canned up quietly in his brain for some time. "Ah'm not suggesting arrests, sir. Because there *is* no evidence of such a move at this point. Ah'm suggesting monitoring, *only*," he emphasizes to Tillman, before looking toward Cadmus at his fellow Able-Three-Oner's entrance. "'Lo there, Cad."
"Frak. Me. As if we weren't all paranoid before…" Alessandra starts to say but that's dropped as she hears a new voice, it drawing her eye towards the newest face. "Hey," she gives as a hello along with a nod to Cadmus, her voice warbling a bit as a wave of tension hits her. The nervousness is slow to ebb, leaving her rather silent and wary.
Tillman glances up to see Cadmus in his combat gear and smirks. "Lance. Welcome to the party. Appreciate your work last night, Maragos. Tough duty all around." There's no joy or emotion to his voice except a serious conveyence of gratitude. He then looks back to Constin. "You tell me what monitoring means to you, and I mean a rigid set of guidelines, and I'll tell you whether or not I'll sign off on it. Because at this point? To search crew files for prior postings? You are talking about hand-searching over two thousand invidiual files. Probably triple that many pages for those who haven't even been with us long. It would take you guys weeks just to develop a list." The XO's gaze settles on Allie, then. "Lieutenant? We knew this shit could happen. We signed-up for it personally. Its being done legally and we have the support of our law enforcement. It just means extra vigilence."
"I do what I can, Major. I'm actually surprised things didn't go much *worse*," Cadmus states, removing his helmet and sighing with some happiness once it's off. Collapsing into a chair, he begins laying down his collection of military hardware until there is a semblance of an armory beside the helmet. "All the video analysis experts *I* can think of are currently planetside, and anyone with enough brains to edit a video that well is going to know how to scrub down the access logs in the hub. This is why I'm recalcitrant to accept a video as the *only* proof of Abbot's guilt - though it's definitely enough to detain him."
Constin clarifies to Tillman: "What ah mean by monitoring is double checking their alibis, and duty postings during set periods.. When Three-oh-five was bombed, during the blackout when ah suspect the film library was tampered with. Basic investigation, sir." An eye goes to Cadmus. "Yeah, ah'd love to know what Oberlin would think of this tampering business.."
Alessandra is brave enough to level a pointed look at the XO, her eyes holding to his. "With all due respect Clive, it's one thing to expect the possibility of something happening and having to face the reality." For someone who is acting skittish as hell she's sure not behaving in such a manner when it comes to voicing her opinion to the Major. Shaking her head, she turns half an ear to listen to what the Marines are saying, some of it making more sense than other parts of it, her brow arching a bit.
Tillman's brow quirks. "No shit, that's a really good point, Lance. Good thing that its not the only proof. However, everything else we have is circumstantial. That list of suspects I gave you? It still holds. Like you said, Maragos, there very well could be others. Abbot very well could be innocent." He gives a pointed look to Alessandra about that. "That is your decision, Lieutenant. If Abbot is guilty? We will both face charges, more than likely. I will personally be waiving my right to counsel and trial." But Constin pulls him back and the XO nods. "Make it happen. When do you think you can have a list?"
"Well, innocent or not, he was bound by law to stand down at your order until such time as Colonel Pewter could convene a courts-martial. And I figure he would have, if he'd trusted your judgement or didn't have *something* going on," Cadmus notes roughly. Apparently it did not *surprise* him that Abbot refused the order, but still annoyed him.
Constin answers back with a sniff, "Sure as hell not before ah can get out of here, sir-" he pauses. "Wait a sec. Cad," he looks to his squadmate. "We already have the lists of which deck personnel were authorized to be the Starboard bay during the window before Raptor three-oh-five's bombing. Checking those service jackets is a good start. Can you have those forwarded here?" He scowls again. "Doctor ain't letting me out til tomorrow." Stupid multiple bullet wounds.
Alessandra reaches out to touch Tillman's arm, her fingers curling about his wrist if she's allowed. "You won't be facing that alone either, Major. If that is what is deemed as being a proper punishment for our actions, then it shall be ours to face, not just yours." In it to the very end, Allie's not about to abandon the man, no matter what. Taking a deep breath, then, she watches Cadmus and Constin, her eyes darting between the two faces as they take turns speaking. "I can't say I blame him for resisisting," she murmurs. "We all would have if such allegations were made towards us, I'm sure."
Tillman nods to Cadmus. "Exactly. He -should- have stood-down as instructed. Especially when faced by the Marine CO, Military Police, and relieved according to the law. If he is guilty, then it all makes sense? If its not? Then yes, his actions demonstrated a deep mistrust that should not exist. I should hope the Admiral would appoint someone after me that he can better trust. Just-" He turns to Cadmus. "..make it happen as soon as you can. I can't spring you from Sickbay. Or at least, I won't. Bring in who you need and trust." Wit hthe touch from Tillman, he looks to her hand, then to her. "Then facing the reality of it is something you will need to come to terms with, Lieutenant. I would suspect that one of these men may in fact be delivering such a sentence."
Leaning back, Cadmus throws one arm over the back of his chair. He looks rather relaxed with that gesture, which is unusual in and of itself. He frowns very deeply, and spends a moment examining the combat knife still at his hip. "Not everyone, Lucky. I wouldn't have, for one," he states; his tone makes it very clear what he thinks of resisting arrest. "I guess I can get started on that, El. Or at least start it off for you. I'm not sure how much time I'll have for it, but it seems pretty damned important."
"Like hell we would have," Constin spits to Alessandra's last claim. "Ordering the ship's personnel to gun each other down? Frak that. Ah get accused, and ah'm innocent? No frakking way ah'd see mah own people shot up because ah was afraid to prove m'self innocent of bullshit charges. There was enough evidence before, but there's no damn bit of doubt in mah mind after seeing that." Four dead marines and sixteen wounded is enough to put the corporal in a very sour mood on the subject. Cad's words provoke a release of breath and eye turned back toward his fellow MP. "See to Borenstein and Morgenfield, first, obviously. Hell, you know your job," he scoffs upon catching himself giving advice to Cadmus.
Alessandra nods to Clive but doesn't say anymore, nor does she remove her hand, the feel of his arm under her fingertips comforting. When she gets the responses from Cadmus and Constin she opens her mouth, looking for the life of her like she might say something back but something stills her tongue and she just nods, unable to come up with something more than that, it seems.
"Hey." Tillman says it without raising his voice. "Everybody throttle back. Including you, Lieutenant. But you Marines are cops. You know what you face. Cut the el-tee some slack. She doesn't look at her job and life the same way you both do. Nor you, hers. I know we've got some high emotions running right now but getting mad about this isn't going to solve anything. Problem-solve this one step at a time." He looks between the three of them. "Now, we have someone on board who is hacking our security feeds. We can a solution. Next? Consitn, you mentioned something about searching all the sensitive areas."
"You can tell me how to do my job, El. Never can tell what I'll forget, seriously… That's why I like to use Panos. The different the mind, the more likely they'll catch something I miss," Cadmus says. As the Major speaks, though, he nods his head with a momentary look of sheepishness on his face. "Aye, sir. I forget that sometimes…" He fixes his gaze on Alessandra, then, and continues: "The el-tees got more balls than most I know, facing down the Admiral like that. I wouldn't wanna trade places with her on that score."
Constin reins in back in, or at least slips all the ire back in place behind the business face. "Yes, sir." Alessandra is regarded, "Didn't intend to bark at you like that, sir." Then it's back to the question. "Our conversation after the Hostage incident on deck raised a few questions, sir. Since the security feed has to be considered compromised, we don't know whether any additional explosives have disappeared.. This is why we'll eventually need a full inventory of ordinance and arms lockers.. but immediately, the FTL, CIC, TacOps and Life support sectors of the ship need sweeping.. not to mention the admiral's quarters."
Quick to dismiss the apologies as unnecessary, Allie gives all three of the men a shake of her head and smiles. "It's more than alright, honest. We don't always have to agree on a subject. The important thing is that we're unified when it's important for us to be so, right?" Tilly's hand is patted before her arm is pulled back, finally, her hand rested in her lap along with the other. "And thank you, Lance," she says to Cadmus directly. "Coming from a Marine, that means a lot to me." Pausing, she looks up before making a suggestion, her expression slightly thoughtful. "Maybe it'd be a good idea to sweep the individual Vipers and Raptors as well. Never know if a pilot or ECO has hidden some kind of way to communicate with the Cylon aboard one of our ships."
"Ain't a thing, Maragos. Just what makes us human. Good to recognize what she had to face, though. First strike to the Admiral was her own. In the same circumstance with someone else? I'm not sure I would have trusted them as much as her." Tillman looks from Cadmus to Alessandra, giving the latter a brief nod of appreciation. Constin and Allie hit some good points and it makes the XO thoughtful. He lifts a hand to rub at the stubble on his chin, staring at the bed. "Godsdamn there are a lot of great targets on board. Anyone with decent knowledge of systems would be able to cite fifty." A pause. "Okay. I'm authorizing that. Lance? Take point on organizing that search while the Corporal is laid-up. I want him reviewing personnel logs and hunting down the paper trail." Eyes settle on Allie once more. "Lieutenant, that's a frakking good point. It might even explain how they knew the exact position of Raptor three-oh-five. You? You find the CAG. Tell her I want every aircraft swept. Quietly. Pull one or two deckhands you guys can trust and get this shit rolling."
Nodding his head in agreement, Cadmus touches his brow. "Aye aye, sir. I'll have something for Corporal Consin by the time he's got his feet again," he says. "I expect we'll pull a postive contact on Raptor Four Eighty One. That's the one Borenstein was making a beeline for with his G4, and I don't expect he was gonna try and run. Maybe a repeat of the old trick."
The Major's litany of orders is met with an unconscious stiffening of posture and nod, "Yes, sir," the corporal states crisply, managing not to grumble at the reminder that he's stuck here awhile longer. "Bombs, beacons, and bugs.. might turn up anything. El-Tee?" he voices, looking to Allie. "If you need deck crew, Crewman Coll is off duty, and can be considered reliable at this point."
Alessandra nods. "I'll get with her as soon as I'm able to, sir. Will volunteer to help over-see if needed." Taking another deep breath in, she eventually stretches her legs out, crossing one foot over the other at the ankle, her hands slipping up until they're settled at her belly. All in all, she looks rather relaxed, suddenly. "Coll…" Allie echoes a bit as she works Constin's suggestion around in her head. "No offense meant to her, but is she truly the best person to have on such a sensative job, Corporal?"
Tillman nods to Cadmus. "Get a Raptor tech on that thing -first- and make sure they aren't going to talk. Whoever is planting this shit and is still around will just replace it on a different Raptor if they think its compromised." Constin seems to be on the same page though the name rings a bell for some odd reason. He dismisses it quickly and looks to Alessandra. There's no comment to the remarks, though. He just slides a look back to Constin.
Wiping his index knuckle across his eyes, Cadmus blinks a few times and begins re-attaching his personal armory to his webgear. "Right, Major. I'll get on that right now, as a matter of fact…" he says, still clipping things. "For the record, I'm pretty sure Coll is innocent of everything except having the bad sense not to report a missing warhead. She's just about the most forthcoming suspect I've ever talked to, excepting the ones that lied in all the *wrong* ways."
"Ah would say so, sir," Constin answers evenly. "Better acquainted with the guts, nooks, and crannies of Raptors than any other Deck hand youre liable to find. Also, as ah said: she can be considered reliable, sir." Cadmus' words are met with a sniff of bone-dry amusement.
"It's not my call, of course, but if the CAG decides Coll's the best one to be on the job…" Allie chews her lower lip. "I'll make the suggestion. Can't promise anything, however." Rubbing her stomach, she looks at Cadmus next, his assessment of the deckie belatedly mulled over. "What she is innocent of is grossly out-weighed by the mistake she did make, Lance. But I'm willing to let it slide. Whether the CAG is or not is an entirely different bag of balls, however." Head turned now, she looks at Tillman and jokes with a playful smirk, "I so need a raise after all this, sir."
"Ah. Her." Tillman seems to finally recall who the person in question is. "Well I'm hands off of that investigation, Lance. If she's innocent, that's for you all to decide along with JAG. If you all say she is worthy of it, then that's your call. And the CAG's. Like the Lieutenant says, nobody touches those Raptors that the Air Wing leadership doesn't approve of. Period." He then looks to Allie and arches a brow. "Done. In fact, we all get raises. Effectively immediately? We are all making a million cubits a year." Sagenod.
"The Office of the JAG's tendered it's recommendation on Coll, which is what I'm playing by. One of the great things about this job is that I *don't* have to judge people. Which suits me fine; I'm no good at it," Cadmus says, with something of a wry grin remaining on his face as he stands. His slams his helment back atop his head, buckling the strap in the same gesture. "Sirs," he says, obviously addressing everyone else in the room, "Get well soon. I'll hold down as much as I can in the mean time."
"For what it's worth, El-Tee," Constin adds, evenly, "The Specialist claims to have been deliberately drugged. There may be some truth to it." A short barked laugh is earned by the news of their new rate of pay. "Frakking wonderful sir. How many cubits to a beer, now?" The departing Cadmus is answered with an easy touch of fingers to his brow. "Luck, Cad."
The sheer silliness of the exchange between Tillman and herself has Allie smiling, the humor bringing a much-needed lightening to her mood. Cadmus is given a jaunty salute and a wink. "Take care." The levity is dampened a bit when Constin talks of Coll's suspicions, it getting the smile to just about flee. "Wow. If that's true then it sounds like…" Allie doesn't have the heart to finish that sentence and instead goes to examining a dried red spot on her uniform, that being one of many she got from when she went to protect the ChEng from frag shrapnel.
Tillman shrugs to Cad. "You're the one saying you think she's innocent. That's your call, Lance. But if JAG has rendered their judgment? I support their conclusions on her as I would on anyone else. Best of luck, Maragos. Stay safe and watch your ass." He taps a finger to his temple and laughs to Constin. "Beer is free. So is everything else. Luckily, though, you're rich." There's no further comment from the man.
Cadmus has left.
"Everyone's rich when the beer's free, sir," Constin chuckles dryly. A breath let out as he eyes Alessandra again. "Ah don't mean to keep harping this matter, sir. Just that there's a frak-ton of misunderstanding flying around where Coll is concerned. The Jay-Ay-Gee has only made a recommendation, pending the outcome of ongoing investigations. Not fixed in stone, sir."
Nodding. Allie's doing that a lot, making her look like one of those silly toys which have their heads attached to their bodies via springs, her head bobbing up and down comically often. "Alright. Like I said. I'll talk to the CAG. Keep this under wraps for now. If Major Hahn agrees to it I'll approach Coll myself and let her know." Her eyes close slowly and the thumb and forefinger of her left hand are brought to pinch the bridge of her nose, the headache she's now inflicted with getting her to growl in annoyance. "Frak, Tilly-bear. If this is what being in command is like….don't ever want to be in charge."
Tillman glances to Alessandra with her name for him. A look back to Constin. A look back to Alessandra. "Lieutenant, this is why I don't want and never wanted a Command. I was perfectly happy as the ship's Tactical Officer. But I don't think I really have much choice in the matter anymore. Unless you wanna trade places? Either of you? We can trade pins right now." He quirks and eyebrow at them and slowly rises from the chair. He grunts and holds a hand to the bandages. "Okay, frak this. I'm outta here. Lieutenant, find the CAG and get this done like it shoulda been done yesterday. If there's a transmitter, we can't launch the rescue operation until we take care of this problem." He grumbles a little more and looks to Constin. "Sorry to shaft you with the paperwork, Corporal. Nobody likes it. But I need it done by someone I can trust to run an investigation properly. For now? I'm going to go check my busted ass outta here." He nods to both of them in turn.
"Perks of command, sir," Constin drawls back sardonically. "The ability to put the paperwork wherever it's most likely to get done." GODS he hates paperwork. "Besides, ah doubt that doctor's gonna let me out until tomorrow, and ah'd rather not get chased down the halls again, so soon. Ah'll feel a frak-ton better about sitting here, if ah can get some good work done."
Alessandra nods. "Roger, sir. Will get on it like a fat chick gets on a buffet….hot and heavy." The Major is given a respectful smile and a slight dip of her chin. "Take care, Major. And just to put this on the record, you can keep the frakking pins, sir. I'm happy being Lieutenant No-Body." She looks at the MP and winces, paperwork a bane from her own life as an enlisted member and was riding a desk. "If you hurry up and get out of here maybe you can have one of your junior people do it for you." Perks of being a higher rank.