| Target Practice |
| Summary: | Cameron has his first lesson in firearms and shooting practice. Vandenberg manages to target one of his hot spots. |
| Date: | 11 Nov 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Perception and Reality |
| Players: |
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| Shooting Range - Deck 12 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| This nearly soundproof room has ten shooting booths in a straight line that face the target field. The ranges move out to thirty yards, each booth using its own track to take targets out to the desired distance vial a simple dial at the booth. Behind the firing line is a long bench that runs the width of the room where crewmembers can load magazines and compare targets. At one end is a huge stack of paper targets that has either Cylons or a few different types of human targets on them. A large sign hangs from the ceiling that details out the rules such as wearing eye and ear protection and watching where weapons are pointed at all times. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #258 |
After some work to get a time available, Vandenberg set up a time for Cameron to meet her at the Shooting Range on their own. Nobody else around to bother them for now. She's in her duty browns at the moment, officially 'On Duty'. The woman is leaning at a table with a mug of coffee steaming in her hand. There's already a target hanging on the range. Behind her on the table is a Picon Fiveseven and a Leo Storm Carbine. A few magazines are already loaded and there's boxes of range ammo set out for them. All in all, Vandenberg looks quite peaceful given the surroundings.
Entering the shooting range Cameron looks very much not at home or at peace with his surroundings. It's not that he's afraid of guns and he's certainly held his own under gunfire before. But this is still all rather new and strange to him. But necessary. The world is a brand new place now, at least for the likes of him it is. He needs to adapt to survive. Recalling the burn issues, he's donned his usual cargo pants and a form fitting long sleeve shirt with a high rounded collar about his throat. Sleeves have been rolled up though and he looks more like one of the soldiers of the Cerberus, rather than one of the civilians for a change. Blue eyes alight upon Vandenberg and ruin the illusion as he gives her a broad smile and a wave. So very civvie. Heading over toward her, he nods in greeting and offers first, "Thanks… for this. I know you're all really busy, so I appreciate you taking the time to teach me."
Van smiles over her mug as he waves, the woman taking a sip as he enters. "Hey Doc. Don't worry your head over it though, yeah?" Natalie stands off her lean and tilts her head in a gesture to join her at the table. "Like I said. You've got a head for medicine. If you're a contractor you might be called on some of the missions if we think they're secure. If they go south, you never know what the situation might present." The mug is set down. "Just remember this: In the field, you are not military personnel. We will do our absolute best to evac you from the area if it ever happens. This is a skill set that will be Worst Case Scenario for you. You shouldn't ever have to fire a weapon in anger." The understated confidence in all of it and the ease at which she talks about it? It might be a little settling for the nervous Cameron.
His head bobs with understanding as he rolls his shoulders to loosen them up and flexes his neck from one side to the other. "Got it," he offers in return. It's been a long time since Cameron has learned something new, something he has absolutely no experience with and, as such, there's a small part of him that is rather curious and excited. He's been working for so long in the field of medicine it's a bit like he'd forgotten there was a whole world out there filled with other things to learn and explore. "I hope to never fire a weapon in anger," he replies thoughtfully. "Self defense, or in the defense of others, yes, but in anger? Too much of a likelihood that I'd be making a mistake or shooting for all the wrong reasons…"
"Well then, shooting in combat. Chances are good you won't ever have to." Van flashes a smile but there is a lot more reserved and professional about her in uniform. She's comfortable, obviously, but the spitfire qualities that seem to embody her off-duty just are not nearly as close to the surface. "Alright, first thing? Before you shoot? Safety. Rule number one." She holds up her right pointer finger at glances to it. "This? This is your safety and that's not bravado. You never, ever, for any reason whatsoever put your finger on the trigger unless you intend to fire the gun. These guns have mechanical safeties that prevent them from going off if they are dropped. They will only fire if proper pressure is applied by your finger. If you are holding your gun and not intending to fire, place your finger on the frame above the trigger. Just extend it all the way out. After a few times doing that, its second nature." Her smile ghosts back, a little more reassurance going his direction. Hopefully. "Second? Always be aware of where your gun is pointing. Always. You never point it at another person on accident. I'm deadly serious when I say that if I see you accidentally point it at any part of me or in my direction, which is called 'sweeping', I will remove the gun from your possession in a manner which you will regret. That goes for anyone else on this crew. Is that absolutely clear? You constantly need to be sure that you are not pointing your gun at something that you would not mind seeing dead or destroyed forever."
"Check," he echoes, mimicking her hand position. "Keep my finger off the trigger unless it is my intention to shoot. Keep my weapon pointed away from people to prevent accidents." His eyes widen slightly at her assertion that if he even accidentally breaks rule number two that she will take him down hard. He has no doubt that she could, even with his aikido training. "Pointing down toward the ground is best, yes?" He seems to be settling into the idea fairly quickly, the only nervous energy about the doctor due more to curiosity and anticipation than uncertainty and worry.
"You got it. Towards the ground. Last rule: Always treat a gun as if it is loaded. You always hear about someone negligently shooting someone because they didn't know it was loaded, right? If someone gives you a gun, you will -always- personally check the chamber and the magazine to know for sure whether or not its loaded. Do not ever trust someone who tells you 'its not loaded'. For all intents and purposes, every gun is always loaded. Period, end of discussion. The last rule is to always be aware of what is behind your target. But given a situation where you have to shoot, I will never tell you to open fire when there is a danger of hitting civilians or something vital. You leave that kind of shooting to the professionals." Vandenberg gives him a firm nod. "Follow those four rules? You're safe. It seems like a lot but remember it life this: Trigger, Sweep, Loaded, Background. If it helps to think of them like your sharps in the operating room, go for it. Never point your scalpel at something you don't intend to cut. Know what organs are behind what you're going to cut. Yadda yadda yadda." Natalie finally flashes a much brighter smile. "Okay, you ready to do some shooting? Get some earplugs and your glasses on and we'll start. Are there -any- questions before that? Absolutely anything at all. This should be fun and informative."
Cameron nods again and repeats, "Always assume the gun is loaded. Always check the chamber and the magazine." Shaking his head, Cameron counters, "It's not too much to remember and, really, it's just good common sense when you get right down to it. Besides," he adds with a wry smile, "I had to learn and memorize over 600 different names of all of the muscles in the human body, not to mention all the organs, bones, and nerves. I think I can handle remembering four more things." His head tilts and he compliments, "Nice metaphors though, for the doctor stuff. Though I have to admit, my scalpels are rarely 'loaded'." He ponders her question for a moment before shaking his head and answering, "If I think of anything during the lesson, I'll ask you. I'm guessing we're going to start with handguns first though, yes?"
"Yep. Its all good common sense stuff. And while your scalpel may not be loaded, its the same principle. The mind is the weapon. A scalpel and a gun are similar. They're tools. What is done with them all depends on the user. We both use our tools to save lives. Other people may not." Van is still smiling. "Yeah, we'll start with the pistols." She picks up the Fiveseven from the table and racks the slide, holding it back to show him. "You can see right here that the gun is not loaded because the chamber is empty. That's the best way to check. Its also how you load the gun." She offers the gun over and wanders herself over to the actual range with a couple magazines. "Here, you check it. Run the slide a few times. Get a feel for it. Be rough if you want. It won't break. When you're ready?" Van holds up a mag to show him before setting it on the bench in front of them. "Put this magazine in the well at the bottom of the handle and then rack the slide all the way back to get it officially loaded."
"Every tool is a weapon, if you hold it just right," Cameron replies, as if quoting something he had heard or been told before, his head nodding in understanding of what she means. He takes the weapon, his hands strong and capable due to the work that he does, rough and rugged due to his months surviving on Aerilon. He studies how she handles the gun first and then, making sure it is pointed away from her and anyone else, he repeats the gestures, mimicking them until they feel natural and his own rather than copied. He's careful, handling the gun gingerly at first, but by the end he is checking it and working the slide fast and hard. Joining her he picks up the magazine, and then after a moment of hesitation, turns so once again the weapon is pointed safely away, before he slides the magazine into the base of the handle and racks the slide back as ordered before lifting a quizzical gaze to Van's face from beneath his blonde bangs. "Like this?"
"Yep, that's exactly it. Had to beat an insurgent unconscious once with a radio," she mutters. The Lieutenant watches him go through the motions without another word, letting him take all his own time to get used to the feel of the gun. She seems to have infinite patience when it comes to this. "That's exactly correct. Normally in combat, people lose fine motor control. Adrenaline, stress.. hell, you're the Doctor. You probably know better than I do what the effects are on the body. Thus, you have to act accordingly. Any time you load a magazine, just give it a good hard tap up into the well with the base of your hand. If the mag isn't seated right then it won't feed properly." She then gestures out towards the target. "I know you want to shoot so flick that thumb safety on the side there.." She points to it. "And just fire off a round or two. We can go over aiming after you get an idea of how it feels. Just stick your arms out in front of you so your arms and body form a triangle with the gun at the tip and pull the trigger whenever you are ready." Apparently she's done this a few times. She might be describing the color of the sky for all the difficulty she's having. By the look in her eyes, she seems to be genuinely enjoying this.
As much as Natalie seems to be enjoying this, so does Cameron. He'd forgotten what it was like to do something new and different, eyes focused so intently upon his own target that he forgot there were others to consider. He nods at her words thoughtfully and then chuckles, shaking his head as he confesses, "It's one thing to know that intellectually, it's another to experience it personally." But the doctor has spent years training to get over those issues, to either find ways to center himself or force himself to push aside the fear, because his patient's life depends upon it." Heading over to booth and studying the target for a moment, Cameron asks, "What kind of recoil am I looking at here?" Yeah, sure, he's new at this, but the last thing he wants to do is either injure himself or look like a complete fool when he falls on his ass or something. He assumes the position she's described and Gods knows he's seen it enough in films and television. He slips off the safety and lets off two rounds with a thoughtful pause between them, not aiming at anything just yet as she suggests, but getting used to the feeling of firing a gun.
"Recoil is nothing. All that stuff you see in movies with the recoil knocking people over is bunk. If I didn't think you could handle the recoil I would have said something. Its just a little jerk of the hand." And sure enough, that's all it is. Like someone just tapped the gun a couple times from the bottom of the barrel. "See? Real easy. Its like working a mouse. Just point and click." Natalie flashes another big grin with her little joke. "So now that you have a feel for it, there's two different ways of shooting that I can teach you. One is the classic method using the sights. The other is what we call 'point shooting'. The former is pretty easy to pick up but you can spend your life getting really good at it - it is also much more precise. The second is super easy to pick up but takes a lot of rounds to get the muscle memory down. Its less accurate but will put more rounds on target much faster. I've taught both to brand new shooters before. Seen both successful. The option is all yours, Doctor Adair."
He chuckles softly, both at her commentary about the inaccuracy of movies and from the quick rush of adrenaline that floods through his system like soda water in reaction to those two shots he just let off. His head cocks to one side, pondering his two options before asking, "So I can't have my cake and eat it too?" It's a tough call. They both seem to have their advantages and, in truth, Cameron would probably normally go with the sights. Straightforward. Practical. Logical. Trustworthy. But he can't help but feel like military people go for point shooting. So in the end, it's a bit like the geek fighting it out with the cool kid inside his head.
"You can do both when we are finished. Tell you what: This time I'll teach you point shooting and the next time I can teach you how to use your sights. Both concepts apply to rifles as well so you're not losing anything by going either route. Sound like a deal?" The Lieutenant crosses her arms and just smiles like a dork. The woman has probably been around guns her whole life. At this stage they're as much apart of her as an arm or a leg. Or at least responsible for a scar or two on said arms and legs.
Well, they do say it's best to do what you love, and then your job is your life, not your work. Smiling wryly at Vandenberg's enthusiasm, Cameron asks with a soft chuckle, "You totally get off on this, don't you?" his gaze sly and teasing before he turns back to the target before him and nods. "Yeah. I'd like to try both, see which suits me best I guess." Glancing back over his shoulder at her again, he gives Van another wicked smile and nods. "Deal."
"I love teaching people to shoot. There's no way around that one. Guilty as charged." Natalie's dorky smile never falters. "That ah-ha moment when they hit what they are aiming at? Its bliss for me." She flashes her eyes up with a shrug and looks back towards the target. "Okay, what I want you to do is watch me." She un-holsters her sidearm and aims it down the range at the target. She leans forward a bit in her stance. It looks fairly aggressive, all-told. "Notice how the gun is level with my chin, but its still aimed right at the target? Keep your arms outstretched in front of you in that triangle shape and make sure you wrap your hand around the other thumb in your grip. You want to create a super stable shooting platform. And…that's it." She holds the position but looks over and up to him. "When you shoot, you fire one round. Do not ever look at the gun. I want your eyes to focus on exactly where you want your bullet to go and focus on that spot. Just one round. Afterwards, you see where you bullet landed and you make itty bitty little adjustments to the gun so that your bullet will get closer and closer to where you want to hit. Then you fire again. Adjust again. Do not ever look at the gun. Look at your target. The whole principle is the same as throwing a rock. You don't look at the rock when you throw it. You look at your target. It sounds CRAZY to never look down your sights but when you free your mind? It works. I promise. So? Whenever you're ready? Begin. No rush. Take all the time and ammo you need."
"So it's the teaching then, not the shooting itself?" he asks curiously, but then hushes and steps back so she can show him how it's done. He studies her stance, her grip, nodding as he listens to her instructions and advice, echoing like a parrot, "Don't look at the gun. Look at the target. Got it." Stepping forward he mimics her stance, leaning forward slightly, his arms held out in the triangle shape, chin height. He looks at the gun only once, and that's more to correct the position of his hands and then he stares at the target and takes aim and fires. After the first shot, he tilts his head to one side and then focuses again before firing." He has excellent hand-eye coordination, has to in his line of work, but shooting a far off target is quite a bit different than cutting into a body right before him. What he is, however, is patient with himself, no matter how far off his shot may stray. He doesn't get impatient or frustrated, just shoots, corrects, and shoots again. It clearly doesn't bring him the same joy that it does Van, his features sober and serious now that the initial excitement has worn off. But it does feel strangely …. good. Like a runner's high or something. A strange, full body sort of feeling of satisfaction.
"A little of both, actually. Shooting is still relaxing to me but eh, its lost some of the luster since I had to deal with other people shooting at me. Or machines." She shrugs and then watches him, reholstering her gun. At the end she nods once. "See? Its not so hard. The trick is, like I said, that you have to spend a lot of rounds to get the muscle memory down. Two hundred rounds? Its easy as pie. See, here's the thing…" She leans against the divider in the booth. "When you are shooting in combat, you don't have a ton of time to settle into a proper stance and line up your sights perfectly. Mostly because you're shooting to neutralize a threat that is probably trying to kill you with its own shots. You don't get to see the gun a lot during rapid fire. This style of shooting applies to those scenarios. Real fast, violent actions. Want to go another round with the Fiveseven or try out the carbine?"
It isn't until Cameron lowers the weapon that he realizes that he's breathing a little more heavily than when he started, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his heart beating a little more quickly. Blinking, he turns to Van and smiles in an oddly heated sort of way before confessing, "It's … exhilarating…" as if he's not quite sure that's the sort of reaction he should be having. He nods at her explanation and returns, "I want to try the other style too, but this seems more … natural somehow. More practical." His gaze shifts to the other weapon, one brow lifting as he asks, "What's the difference?"
Van grins again. The New Shooter High. "It sure is. There's nothing wrong with enjoying it. Getting a little excited. It happens to damned near everyone. There's no reason skirt it, either. Its power in the palm of your hand. Again, back to the scalpel analogy: You have the power to save lives or defend your own in your hands. Man, woman, child. It applies equally without consideration for any physical condition short of being paraplegic. Its a great feeling. Protecting people is why I take such pride in what I do, Doc." There's a sparkle to her eyes. Almost a beaming smile. Even despite the uniform its a rare peer into the person underneath it all. "Well the carbine is only a little different. This time? You create a weld between your cheek and the butt of the rifle. Once you find that weld, you just always aim at what you are looking at naturally. The rifle becomes an extension of the body. Let's give it a try." Van moves away to get the small black carbine and a few magazines and brings it back. "Same stance. Remember to check the chamber when someone hands you a firearm or you pick it up. Just pull this handle here at the rear. Magazine goes in the same way as the pistol."
Shaking his head, Cameron counters, "This is totally different. I don't get that feeling of power, of success and relief and excitement all wrapped up into one until the job is done. Surgery is slow work. This? This is fast. Palpable. A scalpel doesn't feel like power, it feels like a tool. Like building a house. You don't feel the pride and the pleasure until the job is done." Still, his reaction to this shooting thing is a tad bemusing, almost sexual, and Cameron still isn't sure he should be entirely comfortable with that. But on the other hand, it brings him just a little bit closer to understanding this woman that he finds so difficult to understand. "My cheek?" he asks in surprise, uncertain if he really wants the butt of the gun that close to his face, but he nods, game to try anything at least once. Putting down the handgun first he accepts the weapon and, as ordered, checks it carefully, keeping it pointed away from them both before he slaps in the magazine and then tries holding it up the way he thinks she means, questioning eyes flickering over to Van as Cameron asks, "Like this?"
"Well maybe its just subconscious with you." Natalie smirks. "I'm proud of who I am. These here tools? They help me do my job. Just how I see it." When Cameron asks about the carbine, she chuckles. "Here. Don't let go of the rifle." She moves around behind him to the other side and reseats the butt into the meat of his shoulder. "It should feel comfortable there. Relaxed. If its sitting against bone, it won't feel very solid. Just remember that shooting should be relaxing. If it doesn't feel right physically, then chances are good that it isn't correct." She steps back to give him room. "Just rest your cheek in a solid position against the side of the butt. Don't look at the sights this time either. Just look at your target and relax. The recoil on this will hardly be worth mentioning. You'll feel it but eh. It's nothin'. Just do the same thing as last time. I have seen people shoot brass casings out of the air doing this. Swear. Its even easier than a pistol." She gestures towards the target. "When you are ready, sir."
He shrugs and smirks, a boyish sort of expression on Cameron's face. "You should be proud of who you are. You provide a valuable service. We both do." He holds steady as she comes around to fix his stance and positioning of the weapon, rolling his shoulders a little till the rifle rests firmly against muscle. "That's so strange… 'relaxing' is the last word I would ever have thought to use in conjunction with the word 'shooting'… they seem like complete opposites." He rests his cheek as ordered and once again decidedly does not look at the weapon in his hands but at the target. His finger slowly curls over the trigger and pulls, the carbine firing. It definitely has more kick than the handgun, but as she said, nothing he can't handle. One brow lifts as he corrects and re0aims, asking, "Sir? Much too formal. Why is it easier than a pistol?" He takes another experimental shot, adjusting to the feel of this very different weapon.
"I don't think there's a person serving this ship that doesn't perform a valuable service. My action is more direct than most, true. But?" Vandenberg probably puts her Marines first. Given what Cameron knows of her, it wouldn't be hard to pick up on. Some things are just stacked differently in someone else's mind. The woman lets it hang with the silence until he fires. "Pistols are unsupported. Meaning that you shoot with outstretched arms with your muscles holding it up. With a rifle, its seated directly against your body. You move your body, the rifle moves. Its far more natural. It also helps that you have more contact with the rifle in a physical sense. I think it helps your mind to sort of..I dunno..'meld'? ..with the carbine. I'm not sure exactly why to be honest. Physiology wasn't my major in college," she jokes.
"But?" Cameron echoes curiously. "But what?" She's right of course. Everyone here provides a valuable and important service, working hard and long hours for the good of their fellow men and women. His mouth opens on a silent 'ah' at her explanation, able to understand her point now that she's clarified it. Cameron is used to working with 'unsupported' tools, as it were, so the difference didn't strike him immediately. Experimentally he turns this way and that, to feel how the rifles moves with his body, is more like an extension of it, nodding once more before turning back to the target and letting off a few more shots, again, incrementally correcting his aim and growing more accustomed to the weapon in his hands. Lowering the weapon he glances over his shoulder at Van again and grinning. "How very Zen." Gesturing to the weapon and the room in general he asks, "If I want to practice, can I just come here any time, or do I need an instructor to be with me?" yes, he's passed security checks and is approved to work on the ship, but he's still a civilian working in a military ship, and the last thing he wants to do is break any rules that he's unaware of.
"But..the Marines are a combat arm. We're set apart from the rest. We're violent, ruthless killers, Doctor Adair." Natalie's tone becomes a bit more serious, her eyes moving to his. "Most of this crew is trained for a specific task. However vital they may be, not all of them are capable of doing what we do." And everything that entails. But the look on her face, its quite a lot of something Cameron has probably been on the treating end of. "We intimidate those who would intimidate you." She then looks back towards the target and takes a long breath. "Hmm. I believe you will need a Marine with you but I think I should run that by Lieutenant O'Hare. He may grant you access or not. I'll discuss it with him."
The weapon has been lowered, his expression thoughtful and without judgment as he tries to make out her meaning. "You mean because it's your job to kill… that that is something that not just anybody can do? Not that Marines are more important or more vital than others, but that your skill is one of violence and death, which has far more intense repercussions than someone who repairs ships or cooks food or cures the sick and wounded." Carefully he unarms the weapon, checking it to make sure the barrel is clear before handing it back to Van. "You do carry a heavier load than most of us," he concurs quietly. "Alas, I'm only trained in fixing up the physical repercussions of your duties. Not that I've met a Marine yet who wishes to talk to a shrink about what they have to face and fight." Glancing back at the target, Cameron sighs and nods. "SCPO Alteris was the first to suggest to me that I should learn how to shoot. I'll see if she isn't willing to oversee my practicing from time to time. I don't wish to be a burden to you."
"Anyone can kill. Anyone. It's part of who we are, Doctor Adair. As a people." Vandenberg looks back to him as she takes the gun, checking it herself. "However Marines are trained to kill. Our basic training is far different from the Navy's. Like the saying goes: Every Marine, a rifleman. We're trigger-pullers first and our specialty second. Nobody really likes killing other people, but sometimes it is necessary. That's how we deal. Rather than talk to a shrink, we sleep knowing that what we do needs to be done. We won't ask anyone else to do it for us." She turns to take the rifle back to the table and set it down. "Alteris? You mean the woman in the wheelchair?" She quirks a brow. glancing back to him. "As far as I know, she is in Engineering."
"She is now, but she used to be a Marine," Cameron replies, leaving aside for now the question of killing and Marines. It's not a subject on which he can speak with any authority. "I believe she has clearance…" though in truth he can't remember now if Ximena said she would teach him how to shoot or simply suggested that he learn to. His shoulders shrug uncertainly as he notes, "If you could ask Lt. O'Hare and get back to me, I'd appreciate it. Clearly, as you said, what I'll need is practice, and lots of it." Reaching down he picks up the pistol and likewise removes the clip and checks the barrel before handing it back to Vandenberg as well. "Thanks, for the lesson. I both appreciate it and enjoyed it," Cameron offers with a smile, extending his hand toward Van.
Vandenberg shakes her head. "Big difference. She's in Engineering and not the Marines anymore, though how she's still in the serve at all kind of befuddles me." Natalie blinks it away. "I'll ask O'Hare about the situation, regardless. I don't mind teaching you. Remember? What was it? I 'get off on it' or something, right?" She smirks at him and takes the handgun, checking it as well. "No trouble at all. Been a lot of fun. Whenever you want to go over sighted shooting, please let me know. I'll take you down the road." She reaches out to take his hand, smiling a bit. The offer is genuine.
The frown that comes over Cameron's features suggest that Vandenberg has just stepped on tender ground, which is perhaps not unreasonable as Cameron's area of expertise is working with severely disabled people. His voice is low and cool as he counters, "She's still a perfectly capable human being, at a time when we need all the capable hands we can get. She has every right to be in the service." He takes in a deep breath then, letting the anger and irritation that rose up dissipate and dispel before nodding again. "Well, I appreciate that. I know you're busy." He shakes her hand and offers her a smile as well, though perhaps not as bright a one as he would have had she not commented on Ximena's worthiness.
Van's brow rises, finding herself on the receiving end of those cautious words. "Actually, military service is not a right. Its a privilege provided by the Colonial Government - which was a decision by the court system. There's more to consider than her perceived rights, too. There is also safety. I don't doubt what she knows, though. I'm sure she is quite knowledgeable given her rank and time in service." She takes a breath and shrugs. It doesn't seem to be high on her list of concerns. The Lieutenant starts restocking the ammunition. "Like I said, no trouble. Contact me for it anytime. I'm just gonna finish cleaning up. Gotta sweep up the brass and such."
He bites his tongue, from keeping more sharp and bitter words from emerging and instead argues calmly, "A handicapped person is still perfectly able to serve their county, their people, as any other. And I'm sure that now, when are numbers are so few, that many people are being promoted and brought into the service, even if they perhaps were not considered worthy enough to before. Because we don't have a choice. Every able-minded and able-bodied person needs to do all that they can to so that we all will survive. Alteris is able-minded and more than able-bodied enough to do the duties assigned to her. Military service may be a 'privilege'," though personally not so much so in Cameron's mind, "but we are at a time when needs outstrip the usual restrictions." Clearly the doctor feels passionately about the subject, though his tone is carefully not argumentative. Just states the facts. He nods again and offers, "Well, I still appreciate your time and expertise. Till next time then, Lieutenant."