PHD #286: Take It Down A Notch
PHD #286: Take It Down A Notch
Summary: Khloe explains to Cidra what precisely went down on the hangar deck; Cidra reciprocates with wisdom.
Date: 09 Dec 2041 AE
Related Logs: No Respect
Andrea Cidra Corrath Khloe Wade 
Officer's Brig - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
These pair of cells are roomier than one might expect. Each one is provided individual access by a door at the front, located on the other side of the room from the hatch. Each one essentially an armored glass cage, this area is walked and guarded by Marines day and night. Privacy not being a huge concern for prisoners, inside the cell is a single bunk and toilet in full view with nothing else. All visitors must sign-in with the Marine at the desk. Cameras are located at the entrance and on the cell itself, everything recorded onto disk in the Security Hub.
Post-Holocaust Day: #286

In her cell, Khloe is being tended to by a corpsman, seated on the edge of the single bunk. She's had most of the blood mopped off her face, and in her left hand she clenches a damp towel that's smeared with her own. The corpsman is busy applying butterfly stitches to above her left eye where she either took a nasty punch, or got torn by an unlucky fingernail. She appears generally battered and bruised. Once the corpsman finishes he gathers his materials and signals that he's done. "Bruised ribs and the cut are the worst of her injuries. She took a nice shot to the jaw, though, so keep her under observation for signs of a concussion." Signing off, the corpsman then departs. Khloe, on the other hand, is not going anywhere.

While it's not entirely unusual for an officer to be tossed into the brig, it's quite unusual for an officer to be tossed into the brig for fighting with an enlisted. Even more-so when the officer is at a command level. It's for this reason that the hatchway to the Officer's Brig is opened and Corrath is stepping inside, a single file folder contained beneath his left arm. Eyes flit in the direction of the MP on duty, to whom he's offering a slight nod of his head, before he begins to make his way towards the cell that currently contains Khloe.

Wade is just standing right outside Khloe's cell. It took him a moment to appear there of course, but now, he just waits. The man clears his throat and nods to the Corpsman as he speaks "Thank you, let's do that" When the man is gone, his attention moves to Khloe "Frak, Captain…" He presses his lips together "What did he say for you to react that way?" He didn't check on Shiner yet. But now, Corrath is stepping inside the brig. He looks over his shoulder at the man and takes a deep breath.

Andrea wasn't planning on returning to the brig so soon, but she hadn't been able to find her lucky coin anywhere, and suspected it might have fallen out of her pocket and rolled under the cot or something when she'd changed out of her flight suit. She greets the MP on duty as she enters. "Hey, I was just wondering if maybe I… misplaced…" her eyes fall on Khloe and widen. "I mean, I'm here to visit the prisoner, though if you've found an old Aerlionian Sheckel, I was the one who lost it…"

"I don't need your pity, Drips," comes Khloe's low, husky protest, more tired-sounding than anything, and a little hoarse from all the yelling she was doing on the deck. "Don't worry about it. Just do me a favor and don't stand there gawking. I already feel pretty stupid." She lifts her eyes to watch Corrath approach. This is where she gives a statement, probably.

Those that have already gathered around the cell are given a quick nod of Corrath's head before he's looking into the brig, letting his attention focus on Khloe, to whom he simply regards for a moment before finally speaking, "Captain. I'm -sure- you have a perfectly good and logical reason for ending up in my brig, right? Perhaps … this was just a misunderstanding and what my MP's saw on the security cameras was in fact a skit for a violent play or a friendly wrestling match?"

Wade arches both eyebrows at Khloe's first words and he shakes his head "I didn't say anything about pity…Captain" At her other words, he just takes a deep breath and nods. He taps on the bars and then looks at Corrath again. The Viper Pilot takes a step to the side but remains there. His attention moves from Khloe, to Corrath. However, for a moment, he looks at Andrea and he nods at her, not smiling, not one bit.

Andrea probably isn't actually here. That at least is the impression she gives as she sidles up to Wade, her eyes full of questions. She barely even notices when the MP hands her the missing coin.

Khloe shakes her head, pushing some loose strands of hair that escaped from her braid back over, or behind an ear. "No, Lieutenant, you saw correctly. Things got out of hand between myself and the Apprentice. I grabbed him, he kneed me, and it went downhill from there." Her eyes travel from Corrath to Wade, and there's a hint of shame as her gaze drops to the brig floor, then back up to the Marine.

Drawing the file folder from beneath his arm, Corrath is simply popping it open to look over the information, even as he nods to Khloe's reply. "Do I need to remind you, Captain, of how many rules an regulations you broke with this little, stunt then? While it's a much harsher offense for an enlisted to hit an officer, one could simply state that the Apprentice was defending himself." A pause is given, eyes flitting in the direction of Andrea and Wade before returning to Khloe, "I trust there was an adequate reason as to -why- you felt the need to 'grab' him?"

Wade looks at Andrea again as she approaches him. He does notice she has question but right at this moment, he can't give any. He just presses his lips together and then turns his focus back on Corrath and Khloe while they speak. When the Marine LT looks at him, he returns that look, completely neutral expression. He remains in silence, but he also remains there.

She's started picking up bits and pieces, and whew, they are intense. Maybe she SHOULD have picked that fight with Khloe, after all. Still, Andrea doesn't say anything. Neither does she look away. It's train-wreck-esque.

"I grabbed him because I blew a gasket, Lieutenant," Khloe says, some edge returning to her voice. "I could list all the ways he set me off, but it won't matter, I suspect." Sighing, and wiping the side of her face that isn't stitched up, she says, "I'd like a chance to talk to Major Hahn before I say anything more. Because really, at best, I'm looking at an NJP, and at worst, I'm looking at demotion or dishonorable discharge. So rather than dig myself a further hole, I'd like to consult with the Major."

A faint chuckle escapes Corrath's lips as his brow lifts ever so slightly, "That's surprising, Captain. I would have assumed you'd want your side of the story listed within the offical report, considering it will be Major Hahn who decides whether to proceed with an NJP or not. I'll simply mark your statement down as 'refused by detainee'." Turning his attention to Wade, he's regarding the man for a moment, "If I recall, you were present when my MP's arrived. As a witness, can you detail the events that transpired?"

Wade looks at Khloe for a moment while she speaks, and keeps looking at her after his done. He only looks away when Corrath speaks to him. Wade's attention moves to him and he takes a deep breath "Well, it won't be different from what you have on tape. I was going to check on my Viper and heard screaming. When I got there, I found a group of people surrounding two that were fighting. I got there and found the Captain and Mr. Wright going at it. I separated them and called the MPs but they were already getting there apparently" To this, he shrugs. It's all in the tapes.

Nope, Andrea's not here at all. Just hangin' around. She's pretty small, too. You probably wouldn't even notice her through those bars, Khloe.

"No need to be smug about it, Lieutenant. I'm in here, and you're out there," Khloe informs the Marine. "Just do your job and I won't have any qualms or bad things to say about you afterwards." At this point, the Captain tucks her hand underneath her chin and props it up with an elbow-on-knee.

There's a nod to Wade, followed no doubt by a mental note before Corrath's attention is sliding back in the direction of Khloe, "No smugness here, Captain. And with all do respect, I'm not concerned with what you might or might not say about me. My concern is the security of this ship and those aboard it. That -is- my job, which is made more difficult by trivial fights such as this." The file folder is closed and replaced back under his arm. "I will take up the rest of my .. job with Major Hahn, though."

Wade looks at Khloe again and then back to Corrath. For his part, he doesn't say anything else. The Viper pilot looks at Andrea again, who is apparently hiding behind him? His expression is still neutral when he looks back at both the Marine and SL.

Andrea sighs. Would it kill anyone to play nice in this place? While the official stuff goes on, though, she keeps quiet.

Cidra arrives from the Deck 6.
Cidra has arrived.

"I'm surprised that you're so by-the-book, Lieutenant. Time and time again I'm being reminded that regulations don't mean frak-all on this ship," says the jailed Captain, not bothering to look up. But at the addition of another person to the room, she does peer in the direction of the hatch. At Cidra's entrance, the Captain springs to her feet, stifling her groans of soreness as best as she can, and throwing up a sharp salute.

There's a slight shake of Corrath's head at Khloe's reply, followed only by the hint of a frown, "I don't know how other people operate or handle their people, Captain, but I don't have the luxury of ignoring rules and regulations. I'm bound by law to abide by them and if I start to pick and choose which ones I'm actually going to follow, it puts this ship and everyone onboard it, at risk. I'm not prepared to gamble peoples lives for the sake of ignoring a regulation or looking the other way."

Wade is still being quiet, it is only when Khloe stands and salutes that he looks over his shoulder, only to see Cidra standing there. He stands in attention now and offers a sharp salute "Major" He lowers his hand right after that and then takes a deep breath, just pressing his lips at the conversation taking place.

Andrea also salutes, though a small smile appears on her face when Corrath says his piece. She leans over slightly to whisper into Wade's ear. "Oh, Gods. If he keeps up that line of talk she'll frak him right through the bars of her cell…"

Cidra enters the brig area, pausing briefly to speak to an MP to confirm that those she seeks here are indeed here. Then she heads back. She's still in her flight gear, dark hair mussed and sweaty. She looks fresh off CAP, which perhaps delayed her arrival. Gaze takes in Khloe. Brow arching. Expression inscrutable. Though her blue eyes are rather hard at the moment. They go to Andrea. Lingering. Before flitting to Wade and Corrath. "Drips. Lieutenant Corrath. What is going on here?"

Khloe's salute drops, and she stands at attention, although her gray eyes are tired and it appears she's in a reasonable amount of pain for getting into a knock-down drag-out fight.

If Andrea's comment is heard by Corrath, there's certainly no recognition, for the S2's attention is turning to Cidra as she speaks. There's a polite nod of his head in her direction, followed by, "Ma'am." Then, he's turning to look back to Khloe for a moment before returning his attention to the CAG. "My MP's picked up your Captain and one of the Deck's Apprentices for fighting on the Hangar Deck, Major."

Well, Andrea's comment is certainly heard by Wade. At that point, his brain starts sending orders 'Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh' And it actually works! He does have to press his lips together and take a deep breath, but there's no laugh coming from him. He only looks at Andrea with a face of 'Not now!' When Cidra addresses him, he looks at her and nods. The man opens his mouth to say something but closes it after Corrath speaks. It's pretty much that.

Andrea just nods softly to herself. Urge to comment, well and truly stamped down by that one look from Toast. No, sir, this is NOT my fault, I swear.

Cidra nods to Corrath, eyes fixing on Khloe now. Inscrutable but very, very steady. "Yes, that was essentially what Lieutenant Duncan did tell me when he called earlier. I do think I shall not be pressing for Captain Vakos' release right away." A look between Andrea and Wade. Then back to Corrath. "Unless there is some pressing matter you require from either of my other pilots, Lieutenant, I would like a word with Poppy alone." Well, as 'alone' as a guarded brig gets.

There's a slight shake of Corrath's head as he offers, "No, I have nothing further at this time, Major. The Captain expressed her right to not make a statement until speaking with yourself. She's all yours now." Turning his attention back to the other three, the S2 is offering a nod of his head before turning to make his way towards the hatch that leads out of the brig.

Wade listens to Cidra as she speaks and then his attention moves to Corrath to see if the man wants anything. After he is done, he looks back at Cidra and Khloe, nodding after that "I'll leave you both alone" He offers a salute and lowers his hand again. The man turns around and makes his way towards the exit, giving Andrea a bit of a pat on the shoulder. Off he goes, somewhere else.

Point taken, Andrea nods to everyone and follows Wade out of the place, though she does give a sympathetic look to Khloe. Well, not TOO sympathetic. If simply beating up the little shit was an option, simply handcuffing him naked inside a Raptor couldn't be THAT bad, right?

Khloe remains standing at attention, her eyes fixed on the closing hatch door. Once the hatch closes, she briefly closes her eyes, taking a steadying breath. Then, when they open, straight ahead once more, perhaps with her stance slightly taller. She's hurting, and is rather worn out from her ordeal - her own fault, of course.

"As you were, Poppy." A note of exasperation in Cidra's voice. Or, at least, resignation. She takes a position to lean against the wall by Khloe's cell. Where she can 'settle in' to regard the other woman. She seems to think she's going to be here awhile. "So. Tell me what happened."

Khloe relaxes to 'at-ease' but she's still forcing herself into a rigid posture. Clasping her hands behind her back, she states, "I frakked up, sir." As if that wasn't obvious. "I let Apprentice Wright get the better of me in an argument, and when he decided to verbally trash the battlestar, the uniform, and… well, practically everything that keeps us glued together, sir, I more or less lost it. Grabbed him, threw him up against a Viper. I had full intent on scaring the ever-living crap out of him, but when he struck back, I…" Her facial expression toughens. "We exchanged blows, sir. I know the gravity of the situation and I'm fully prepared to face whatever you throw at me."

"Yes. That is readily apparent," is Cidra's mild reply to the 'I frakked up' bit. A soft "Ah" escapes her. "So you initiated a physical altercation with an enlisted rating on the hangar deck. Is that a fair assessment?"

Khloe swallows, hard - Cidra probably hasn't seen her this afraid for her career since the Marsyas. But she's certainly facing the drum and not trying to make excuses for herself. "Yes, Major, sir," comes her short reply.

Cidra just nods, first and foremost. "Well then. We are on the same page with all of this, at least." There is a certain wryness to her tone. "This was precisely what the Wing does need right now, Khloe." She sounds more tired than anything else as she says it.

"I won't make excuses for my behavior, Major," Khloe states, as if she had to say it. "As much as my actions are inexcusable, Mr. Wright's words were proof positive to me that he does not belong in a cockpit, ever. In fact, I would just as soon see his ass fed to a launch tube and sucked out into space. He does not, would not, respect the uniform."

"What precisely did Mister Wright say that set you off so?" Cidra asks. "Though you are correct, that is no excuse. You were the superior officer in that situation, the onus is on you to keep a level head and not answer disrespect with even greater offense."

Khloe clears her throat. "I… we were having a conversation regarding how a particular module of a particular Viper was assembled. I was attempting to learn, sir, satisfying my own curiosity. The module, according to the manual I was consulting, was more or less properly set up, but done messily and with incorrect wires and the like. The Apprentice defended the incorrect assembly, stating that, more or less, it was the best the deck could do, and then went on a tirade because I attempted to lecture him, a potential Nugget, on the merits of regulations and discipline. In true non-com fashion, he flew off the handle. I… think he struck a few nerves, because I don't recall how angry I was until we started fighting."

"The Deck crew is doing an *astounding* job of keeping our birds flying, with no real hope of getting proper new ships or replacement parts that have not been salvaged from some gutted old transport vessel," Cidra says. "It would disrespectful in the extreme if one of Chief Damon's people lectured me on how to fly my Raptor. The reverse is also true. The knuckledraggers are our partners, and they know a hundred times more about repair and maintenance than we do. We remember this and we do not get high-handed with them, yes?" There is no real attempt to address whatever Shiner may've done. He's clearly not her concern.

Khloe straightens up at that, even if there's a hint of a wince, either from the beating she took, or from the tone of Cidra's voice. "Yes, Major, as you say, sir," she says.

Cidra sighs heavily, tilting her head against the wall. "What I want to know is *why* this happened, Khloe. And do not tell me it was simply provocation from Apprentice Wright being an ass. If that were the case, the man would be beaten daily each time he spoke." Still ever-so-faintly wry.

Khloe clears her throat, apparently wanting to respond to her superior officer and friend's request, but no other sound escapes her lips. "I… don't know, sir," comes either the lie, or the unwillingness to see the forest from the trees. Although Cidra probably does not have to guess how progressively wound up and prone to snap she's been since Lucky's death, and with the recent lashing out in the berths regarding Money Shot's suicide… two plus two equals four.

"Stop calling me 'sir' for a moment, please." It's not an order, though it is a clearly heartfelt request. Cidra sighs heavy. "And I think you do know. These are hard days, Poppy. You feel like you are going mad sometimes." A soft chuckle escapes her. All rueful. "Perhaps we are all going mad. I loved her, you know." Who that last was meant for is unclear.

Khloe stiffly, almost with a jerky motion, shakes her head. "Don't ask me to," she says, voice becoming very low and quiet. "Rules and regulations are all I have left. Sometimes, I feel like I'm losing my mind, because everyone around me seems more than willing to frak around and not treat the world as… as gravely… as it ought. Wright was just the tipping point." She shifts her weight in her at-ease stance, almost like she may have momentarily lost her ability to stand. "I'm… not sure I got enough chance to know her, like how I didn't get a chance to know Lucky. But what really got me was… how… she, um, did it. You know."

"Do not blame everyone else for what you ask of yourself, Poppy," Cidra says. "It is not the worlds that drive us mad. It is not even the Cylons. It is what we demand of ourselves…what we shall never…" Not asking again. Though she does add, rather sad, "There are so few who can be just 'Cidra' with for a spell anymore." She shrugs. "Well. Perhaps it is of no moment. She reminded me of myself, you know. Money Shot. Straight off a place most would just a soon have severed from the Twelve Colonies. Backwater accent. Last sort you would expect to see in a flight suit. Such a *raw* thirst to prove herself. Such quality. It was like looking in a mirror at times. A mirror does not show you a copy, you know. A reflection inverts. Shows things backwards. I told her once, after Ibrahim died. After I made her a jig again. Her greatest flaw was that she lacked impulse control. She did not think. She…did. I have ever restrained my impulses. Even before the service. To deny one pleasures was how I was raised…gods, I envied her in so many ways."

"I'm sure, if I had more exposure to her, she would've driven me crazy," Khloe says with a throaty sound sounding like half a chuckle. Or maybe it's a stopped sob, but there are no tears in her eyes. Not yet. "I don't deny myself pleasures, Cidra -" She finally says her name. "- I deny myself everything that would distract me from being able to get through just one more day of being able to say, 'No.' For you, it's a religion thing. Your faith requires it. For me, it's a disease… I can't walk down that hallway. I can't let go. Everytime I do, I get closer to ending up like Tisiphone." She swallows back another choked sound. "You know what the first two thoughts were when I heard about how she died? I thought about shooting up. And then I thought about following her." She shakes her head. "Unbridled, thoughts formed in my unconscious, just springing to the fore. No reason why they should, after all these years. But that's what happened."

"It is not even about the Faiths anymore," Cidra says soft. "All of my life, I have tried to make myself into the image of something that someone else desired. My mother. The High Sister of Athena. The Navy. My brother Cillian said to me once that I took to the service because it gave me another god to supplicate to. Another purpose to serve that was not my own. He was right. Only time in my life I have not felt I was serving someone else was when I was with Daeds. I nearly did go to the empty places after he died, you know. To follow him, even into oblivion…it called to me strong…"

"You were gone a long time, when he died," Khloe recalls. Finally, her legs do give way, and she shakily finds herself down to the cell floor, managing not to flail too badly. Sighing, she admits, "I frakked up, Cidra. I'm sorry. I'm at the end of my rope with this squadron leader crap. Two deaths in just as many months." And, in fact, today marks the sixtieth day of Khloe being the Knights' new SL. "It doesn't get any easier, does it?"

"I have lost nearing two hundred pilots since the Cylon attacks," Cidra says. Not so much dismissive of the losses of Alessandra and Tisiphone that Khloe saw under her leadership. But she does say the number in a stark way. "And I loved them all. I meant it when I said that. I did not join the Sisterhood. I became a Colonial Navy pilot, and you and everyone else in that Wing are my brothers and sisters. I spoke the woman who called herself Melpomene. The terrorist. On Sagittaron. Did I ever tell you this?" She likely did not. Cidra spent a *great* deal of time down on Sagittaron during the SAR ops there. And has not taken nearly as active a role in leading ground operations since.

Khloe shakes her head. "No, you didn't. What of her?"

"I went to meet with her. Alone in a Raptor, after we had surrendered the Jharkand Basin to the SSLF. To make sure the truce was secure. No Marine team back-up. I did not even tell Ibrahim or Captain Nikephoros when I was going." Well, meeting a terrorist leader like that was dangerous bordering on insane, so hopefully anyone who knew and valued her life would've stopped her. "We met in the swamps there. She came alone as promised, and welcomed me with the blessings of Athena, and kept her word that I would leave there unharmed. And she asked me what I live for. And I told her it was my duty to go on. And she said to me…she said I live for nothing. Nothing but to live. To exist. And this is why I will lose…"

Khloe's brow creases at hearing the story. "I'm not sure I like that," she says. "Duty, the privledge of serving, is more than enough to devote a life to. Anyone living and dying by the uniform has lived a life protecting others. What better life can there be?"

Cidra shakes her head, a sudden earnest about her. "It is not, though. The uniform is nothing by itself. The regs, even this ship…they are nothing but symbols. The oaths have to *mean* something, Khloe. Like prayers and rituals have to mean something. The Melpomene was right. I have been *empty* for more than ten years since my husband died. I only begin to realize how much. Duty fills your days, but it does not fill up the empty places. It is like a sieve, you just keep pouring more and more of yourself into it but there's never any end to it, until all the water is gone. I have felt this even before the attacks. I think I realized it after the war games in Uram. That should have been the best moment of my life. It was the triumph of everything I had devoted myself to for a decade. I had achieved it all. And all I could think was, it was nothing because he was not there, and I did not have a house on the lakes of Picon and our bed to go back to. I have felt this so long and I feel I am only now beginning to *understand* it…"

Khloe's gaze drops to the floor in front of her feet, at which she stares for a long moment before replying. "What… what about those of us who never had anything good like that? If it is as you say, the uniform, the symbols being empty without meaning." She peers up at her friend and mentor, an innocence in her voice that others seldom hear. "Why should I bother?"

"We have something good," Cidra says, her tone soft but fierce. "I did mean what I said. Those I fly with are my brothers and sisters. I love you all. I do not think I realized how much I do until I saw Money Shot in the morgue. And is what I live for now. And it is something…more than remaining, at least. As exasperating as I find the lot of you sometimes." Tone *very* wry at that.

"I'm not sure I can open up in the same way," Khloe admits, hugging her knees to her chest. "But you know, something Lieutenant Vandenberg said to me the other day, about the walls I put up, and whether or not they're as strong and impenetrable as I think they are." She sniffs - still no tears, although she's certainly wearing down. "Guess I'll have to mull that over a bit more, while you figure out what's going to happen to me."

"They do not hate, you know," Cidra says with the slightest of smiles. Though there's a note of sadness in it. "The pilots under you, I mean. I used to think they all *despised* me. You know, when my birthday came 'round this year I refused to tell anyone because I did not want them to feel obligated to…I do not know." Said with a soft snort. "It made sense at the time, but I cannot say it does anymore."

Khloe manages a hint of a smile now. "Didn't want them to, what? Put you up on a pedestal? Let you have your day? You know, if you let us, some of us might." Vague Khloe is vague.

"I do not even know anymore. It was a lot of bullshit, really." Profanity is rare from the CAG, whose manners are still more Gemenese Scripture school propriety than OCS. But it comes out easily, and with a touch of rueful humor, just then. Cidra shrugs. "Well, I have a weakness for that at times. Anyhow. I was mistaken then. My suggestion is that you take it down a notch - or dozen - and just let your pilots in. And it will hurt like seven hells when you lose one of them. But…it does anyway. And it is a dishonor to them and to yourself to pretend it does not. At least if you admit to it they will know what they meant to you when it is time to pay the ferryman. Perhaps that is all any of us can have these days. Still, it is no small thing."

Khloe narrows her eyes slightly. "That's easier said than done, but I will consider it. You've not shown me the incorrect path before." She idly scratches at the inside crook of her left arm, where her scarring is. She's exhausted.

"I am not so sure of that," Cidra says, and there's half an apology in her tone. "I have felt myself in a fog these last months. Perhaps I have done the lot of you a disservice. But. We shall all try and do better on the morrow. Not much more we can do now." She shrugs, but it's not a particularly resigned gesture. Her posture straightens some as she stops her leaning. "I shall see you released from here after the full forty-eight hours is up." Yeah, Khloe's not getting immediately sprung. "It shall give you much-needed time to think, I do suspect. We shall speak on the matter more after that. Do think well. I would return you to head the Knights better, Captain."

Khloe tilts her head slightly, surprised. "No NJP? No court-martial? Color me surprised - I'm not complaining, but I'm wondering why? I should in here for at least a week. By the books."

"There shall be non-judicial punishment to follow," Cidra says levelly. "I intend to handle it myself rather than putting it before the JAG. I need some time to reflect upon precisely what that will be. I meant what I said to Lieutenant Demarcos. Screwing about on the hangar deck is not only the height of stupidity, it disrespects all that we do. I cannot afford to take an able pilot off the line for a week for this nonsense. We shall discuss the remainder of your reprimand at a later time."

Khloe nods slowly. "I understand." She pushes herself to her feet with a grunt, body likely protesting as it's been sitting still for quite some time now and is no doubt bruising nicely. She manages to snap a salute, though, without saying anything else; saying "thank you" isn't something you say to a reprimand.

The salute is acknowledged fluidly and Cidra departs the brig, on that note. "Think on this so that it does not happen again," she says in parting. And off she goes.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License