| The Making of a Master .. at Arms |
| Summary: | Corrath meets with Constin about a promotion |
| Date: | 02 Nov 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Small Office - Security Hub |
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| This smallish styled office is typically made use of by the Master-at-Arms to conduct his business and oversee the MP's. As of late, with the lack of an MaA, the S2 has been making use of it, as is evident by the stacks of paperwork that seem to be accumulating on the desk. To the side, a secured cabinet can be see and a table with the never-ending Marine Coffee Pot <tm>. Across from the desk, two simple chairs are present for those who visit, while behind the desk, a much larger and more comfortable chair can be seen. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #249 |
It's mid-day aboard the Cerberus and like many others, Corrath has secluded himself in the Small Office off the Security Hub in an effort to finalize and conclude much of the paperwork that has overtaken to the desk. Having made his way through a decent stack, as is evident by the stack in the 'To File' box, he comes across something that has him muttering a quick curse. Rising from the desk and moving to the door, he's summoning one of the Duty MP's only to offer a quick, "Go fetch Sergeant Constin for me and tell him I need to see him, ASAP." That done, he's moving back to the desk, only to lower himself back into his seat, waiting.
It's not a long wait; said sergeant is on duty at the moment, filing the last of the pre-operation reports for the training exercise scheduled later in the day. Not more than sixty seconds after the runner is bid 'fetch', the big sergeant steps into the office, with a plain greeting of, "Sir."
When the Sergeant fills the doorway, Corrath's eyes are drifting in his direction, only to offer a quick nod as a hand lifts to motion towards one of the chairs, "Come on in, Sergeant, and have a seat. There's something I want to go over with you." The hand shifts to withdraw a package of smokes from his pocket and he's tapping one out, only to place it between his lips before offering the pack in Constin's direction, "Smoke?"
Constin steps toward the indicated seat, shaking his head once to the offered smokes. Of his vices, smoking managed not to make the list. "What's the word, El-Tee?" the big man drawls as he settles into the seat, narrow blue regard holding Corrath's.
When the offer of a smoke is refused, Corrath tosses the package to the desk, only so that a lighter can be procured and his smoke lit. A long haul is taken and when his hand comes up to relieve his lips of the smoke, he's offering a quick nod. "Military Police have been without a Master-at-Arms since the incident with Colonel Sarkis and Barcley took place. I've spoken with the Major and I'd like for you to take on the role." A hand lifts, indicating a pause that he fills without another haul from the smoke. Then, as his hand falls away, he continues, "I know you're in the process of completing work to become an officer and I've spoken to the Major about that as well. We want you to stay on as Master-at-Arms, even after your commission. Not ideal or normal, but our circumstances and situation isn't ideal or normal."
Constin draws a slow breath as Corrath brings up his taking the MaA role. Yet while the big man does frown in thought it isn't until after the Lieutenant mentions the unorthodox occupation plan that S3 and Major have okay'd. "If I can say so, sir, I ain't sure that's the best idea. I'll do whatever work yourself and the others figure needs doing, but the Em-ay-ay has always been enlisted for a reason, yeah? Like you said, no ideal or normal." A drawn breath. "That's your call to make, sir, and I'll tell you right now, I'll follow what command decides to pass down- but I'm thinking it's less important for me to be an officer than it is to make sure the boat's enlisted don't feel cut out of the picture, sir."
The smoke is returned to Corrath's lips, a long haul taken from it before he's exhaling the smoke in the direction of the ceiling. Then, he's simply lowering the smoke to the ashtray to tap off some of the ash. "I can certainly appreciate your sentiment on that, Sergeant. If we had batches of fresh recruits, I'd not be broaching this subject at all." A pause and a lift of a brow. "Tell me, Sergeant, if given the choice between being an officer and being the Em-ay-ay, which would you chose?"
"I'd choose whichever one the boat needs more, sir," Constin drawls back without pause. Adding with a shrug, a moment later, "Course I'd like your opinion as to which one that is, but off the cuff I'm thinking we've got other officers. Some damned good ones. We ain't got an Em-ay-ay. You got anyody else lined up for that, sir?"
A smirk dances across the Lieutenant's lips as he gives a nod of his head, "Sounding like an officer already, Sergeant." The smoke is lifted back to his lips and he's taking a quick haul from it before lowering it back down. "No one else lined up, though. In all honesty, our list was pretty short, consisting of just yourself. I'd like you in the role, whether it be as enlisted or as an officer." The smoke is set in the ashtray so that he can lean forward, hands clasping together. "But at the end of the day, it's your choice. If you continue with the OCS, I can look for another possibility if you don't want to handle the post. If you want to forgo OCS, consider yourself the new Em-ay-ay and I'll see to it that you get the rank to go with it."
Constin sniffs shortly in amusement once, at the talk of a list one name long. "Thanks for saying so, El-Tee. That being what it is, figure I oughta withdraw as an officer cantidate. Hell, that was still some pretty good shit to learn," he comments on the past four months of studies. Drawing a fresh breath, the sergeant prompts, back to business, "What needs doing first, El-Tee?"
There's a quick grunt from Corrath and a muted chuckle as he gives a shake of his head, "Figured if you had an issue with it, you'd resign from OCS. You woulda made a good officer, Sergeant, but I won't fault your logic. Should you change your mind, let me know. Don't think you are obligated to do this, if you'd rather join ours ranks." Hands unclasp and he's extending one across the desk towards the man. "Can't say I'm disappointed, though, to have you remaining where you are, either. I need someone reliable and someone I can trust, what with everything that's been going on lately. As for what needs doing? You know of a bunch of the investigations that we've got going on and while they all have a priority, I've been focusing on the assaults and threats that have been levied to people throughout the ship." Free hand moves to claim the smoke, lifting it to his lips to deposit it there. "Figure you might wanna get involved in that one."
"Huh," Constin grunts once in return to Corrath's last, "Yeah, you might say that." Drawing a fresh breath and nodding once as he extends his own thick, calloused hand to clasp the offered one of the S2's. "My mind tends to change when what the boat needs does, sir," he drawls in answer to joining the commissioned ranks. "Maybe after folks quit breaking rules, yeah?" Elf deadpans.
There's another smirk as Corrath offers a quick, but firm shake before retracting his hand. "Might be waiting awhile, then, Sergeant." Claiming the smoke from his lips now, he's giving another quick nod, "Good enough, then. What we're doing right now is bringing people in for questioning, at random. All ranks, positions etc.. and just seeing what they know on the assaults and threats. Seeing if they've noticed anything unusual or the like. Basically, foot work to see if anything stands out."
Constin nods again. "Might be," he echoes in dry assent. A fresh breath drawn in through flared nostrils and the still-enlisted runs over details silently for an instant, before voicing, "Will review what's on file and get back to you on that when there's something worth telling, sir."
A final haul is taken from the smoke before Corrath is butting it out in the ashtray, only so that he can lean back in his chair, hands coming to clasp together in his lap as he gives a nod. "Good enough. So far, Lieutenant Trask has been brought in for questioning and that's it. I intend to grab a couple more people this week and bring them down, see if they've heard anything or noticed anything. Hopefully, we'll find a common … occurance and be able to go from there. Second to that, you should know that we're restructering things a bit. You're going to be moving to Able Platoon as the MaA and assuming duties as Platoon Sergeant/XO. Bunch of the Em-Pee's are being moved to Able, as well. Lieutenant Vandenberg is going to be assuming the officers position for Dog, considering she's responsible for training and the like."
"Huh," Constin grunts again at the news. Another silent moment, as he kicks around the neccessary changes to his scheduling. "Alright, then. Think that's about all I need for now. Gonna need to send word around to the Platoon Sergeants that patrol and brig assignments are coming from me, now. That's gotta be a nice load off, yeah Ess-Two?" he drawls to the Lieutenant, before prompting, "Any instructions for your Platoon Sergeant, El-Tee?"
"I'll get you a list of those changing platoons and where they are going, so that you know who all is in Able now. This change gives us the majority of the MP's and a solid base to draw upon for investigations and ensuring the security of the ship. Also means I don't have to step on the toes of the other officers to get the people I need." There's another smirk as Corrath gives a nod of his head, "It is. Means I might actually be able to actually get caught up on the paperwork. As for instructions? Just keep up the good work, Sergeant. I don't need to tell ya how to do your job. You've shown you can do it. Lets ensure that we get our shit squared away, though. I want people to stop questioning the effectiveness of our Em-pee's."
"Folks will always question sir," Constin opines. "All a fella can do is his damndest to make frakking sure it's a stupid question." A dry, short lived smirk tugs briefly at his lip before the big man rises and offers a salute, prior to taking his leave and diving into the fresh assignment. "Sir."
"True enough, Sergeant. Still, I want to clean up the perception." A hand motions to the wall and to the tiny office next door, "I'll have the office next door made available for you, since I've assumed 'control' of this one." The salute is given a nod, followed by a quick smile, "Take it easy, Sarge. Thanks."
"Not a frakking chance, El-Tee", Constin returns dryly to the parting 'take it easy' as he lowers his hand, steps back from the desk and heads out of the S2's office.