PHD #330: Taking Care Of Our Own
Taking Care of Our Own
Summary: Constin approaches Mathers about his pending assault case from PHD #205.
Date: 22 Jan 2042 AE
Related Logs: Blanket Party (incident in question) & Round Two? (arrests are made)
Mathers Constin 
Security Hub - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
Condition Level: 3 - All Clear
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: #330

Making the rounds, Mathers has swung by the Security Hub to get his hands dirty, as the saying goes. Standing in front of the bay of security camera monitors, he's got the metal cover of a clipboard flipped open and he's currently paging through the hexagonal cut pages of some report or another. The sliver of a toothpick peaks out of the corner of his mouth, the end bobbing occasionally with the clench of his teeth.

Two of the dirtiest hands on the boat enter, and turn a pass of narrow blue eyes around the Sec Hub. "Captain," Constin greets evenly. "Got a update on that Onboard assault case from awhile back, if you got a spot of time to hear it."

Mathers flicks the cover of the report closed as Constin approaches. It gets handed off to a private with quick instructions before he even fully acknowledges the MaA. "I want a copy of this on my desk before end of shift today." Only then do hazel eyes meet blue. "Proceed." The word gets drawn out around the toothpick making the 'ee' sound longer and more casual than just barking the order.

"Sir may recall we'd detained Marine Pee-Ef-Cee Marlon Verne in connection with said assault. He cracked under questioning and named two other fellas. One has admitted to taking part, while the other- Private First Class Hannigan, continues to deny involvement. His alibi is pretty weak: claims he was asleep in his bunk at the hour in question, but nobody can confirm. Question I have for you is this: what charges you recommend be filed, and how hard command wants to push on Hannigan."

"Can this second fellow corroborate the involvement of Pee Eff Cee Hannigan?" Mathers asks, the toothpick switch backing to the other corner of his mouth. He's studying Constin carefully, eyes narrowed just a hint. This is, afterall, a rather personal case to Constin.

"Second fella, Specialist Kilgannon, also named Hannigan, sir," Constin returns with a nod. The MaA's face is a stolid frown, but that is rather consistant with his usual look.

There's a long moment where Mathers falls silent, mulling things over with the gnaw of that wooden splinter. "Shame when it's our own, isn't it Sergeant." Another pause, the end of which is punctuated by a grunt. "Charge all three and let the JAG sort them out. Unless you have a penchant to lean on Hannigan, we have enough to charge him. Shift the burden of proof over to the JAG. As for charges, put the full court press on them. Assault and battery, false imprisonment, kidnapping, and anything else we can cook up. If they were in uniform, dump all those charges on them as well. Not only do I want them dishonorably discharged, I want them to rot for a while in a cell under your keen eye. Notify Specialist Kilgannon's CO of the pending charges, and if they bulk, you send him or her my way. Do you disagree?"

"No sir, I do not," Constin drawls flatly to that last question. As for all that came before it, he comments, "Understood, Captain. How public you want the announcement?" he asks pointedly a moment later.

"Make it known, Sergeant. Behavior of this ilk will not be tolerated nor special exception given. This wasn't some bar brawl, this was a deliberate threat that was planned and executed. As a matter of fact, elevate that to aggravated assault. The victim was lured there under false pretenses." The XO turns his head and spits his dilapidated toothpick at a trashcan. "I'm sure you can even page through your book and come up with some war crimes to slap them with."

"Oh, there ain't any kinda shortage of shit they gonna catch, sir. Hell, I've heard Tillman wants them shot, so way I see it anything short of that is a downright kindness," Constin notes with a snort. Letting a short breath out, he adds, "Jag has been real accommodating about upholding whatever sentences we recommend so far, sir. Which leaves me needing to ask an opinion." He scowls with the words. "I know this is my call, Captain. Master at Arms handles this kinda shit, and I'm damn well gonna do that. Just wanted to know if you'd mind giving me a bit of feedback on something, before I do?"

"That actually brings me to another matter of business, but let's close this one first. You have my permission to speak freely, Sergeant Constin. Ask away." Mathers folds his arms over his chest, but for the moment seems to remain receptive to whatever Eleftherios has to say.

Constin nods once. "Discharge is assumed at this point. Which leaves us facing down whether to lock them up til they die, releasing violent conspirators into the civvie population at some point, or setting them down on one radioactive rock or another. Now, far as I'm concerned, once folks do what they did, they become the frakking enemy and I ain't inclined to spend limited resources keeping the enemy alive. Would lijke to think I'd feel the same if it weren't me that was involved, but…" A slow exhale through the nose. "What you think, sir?"

"I think we are in an extraordinary circumstance, Sergeant. As we no longer have a base to unload this burden to, we are forced to take it upon ourselves the implications on the remaining human populous. Long term prisoners are a drain, and rehabilitation is a pipe dream. It is my understanding that a previous prisoner was released on his own recognizance back to the surface. It happens to be a practice I am in favor of. Even if they served their time and were released to the Elpis, they would still remain our burden and as you've said, a possible threat. While I am not the authority on the subject, it would be my recommendation to Command as well as any civilian government that may or may not form that that option remains open to enemies of the state. Your personal involvement has not clouded your judgment in this case, near as I can tell." Mathers says matter of factly.

Constin nods once, slowly stretching his neck following the motion. "Good to hear, sir. On both them counts." Despite the positive expression, the big man's expression doesn't look pleased. "You said there was something else, Captain?" he prompts, drawing a small notepad out of his pocket with the inquiry. Superior officers tend to have specific instructions, and Constin long since got into the habit of writing crucial details down, rather than rely on his memory.

Mathers gives a curt nod, as if adding the punctuation on the end of that particular vein of conversation. "If you haven't already, I'd like the contents of Michael Abbot's cell to be stripped and boxed down to the very sheets. Then I want those items delivered to the offices so I can go over them personally. If it isn't bolted down, I want it removed. Then you can clear that prisoner from the active logs."

Constin nods again, jotting down 'RADM cell C/esp' on the notepad, before regarding Mathers to voice, "Understood, sir. You'll have it all before the shift's over. Will that be all, Captain?"

"That's all, Sergeant." Mathers confirms, his forehead now wrinkled with thought that he doesn't seem inclined to share. As he steps away he takes a moment to add, "We take care of our own, Constin."

"We take care of everybody, sir," Constin returns to those last, as he offers the appropriate salute, before turning to take his leave.

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