PHD #280: Too Far, Hosedown |
Summary: | Khloe banishes Andrea to the brig for 24 hours after the event surrounding Shiner comes to light. |
Date: | 03 Dec 2041 AE |
Related Logs: | How To Hose Down Hosedown |
Players: |
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Pilot Berths - Naval Deck - Battlestar Cerberus |
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The battlestar's pilots call this place home. Bunks line the walls with grey curtains to cover their sleeping areas. Lockers sit between each pair of bunks and a round metal table sits in the center, furnished with simple but comfortable steel chairs. A hatch at the rear of the room leads to a communal head. |
Post-Holocaust Day: #280 |
Another CAP, come and gone, and Andrea is hanging out in the berthings as usual, taking the time to mull over some of the Raptorball numbers in case command agreed to another game. She is still in her Flight suit, front zipper down about halfway, mostly as a bit of a personal joke.
Khloe comes stalking into the berths, the door swinging wider than would be normal; she practically throws it open. Her facial expression suggests she's a few pale shades short of full-on rage. Fortunately for her, she doesn't have to go very far to find what she was looking for. "Lieutenant Demarcos, stand at attention!" She barks, not even closing the berths door. In fact, a few folks in the hallway slow down in their to and fro in order to listen as to what the explosion is about.
Sigh. Well, it had to be coming eventually, right? She hadn't thought about the security cams in the hangar until later. Jumping up from her seat, Andrea salutes and then stands at attention, vaguely trying to pull the zipper up a bit but then just standing there. Here it came.
"You are report to the brig immediately, Lieutenant," the Knights SL spits, her stalking path taking her directly up to Andrea so she can be face to face. She even whacks a chair out of the way with the side of her boot as emphasis. "The Major and I agree that you've been out of line with your pranks, lately. You've earned some brig time, Lieutenant. I hope you're happy, because I'm frakking not."
"The brig, sir?" Andrea blinked at that. They were chucking her in hack? For a prank? "Sir, he just kept wagging those eyebrows like all he needed was a meaningful look to get into ALL of our pants." She risks a smile. "I showed him that, in fact, the reverse was true."
Khloe gives the faintest of nods. "I'm not of a mind to have an argument with you, Lieutenant, especially since I gave you a frakking order! You should be running out that door right the frak now and not whining about how he deserved it!" He probably did deserve it, but that's besides the point. "Prank or not, you frakked up by choosing to prank someone on the deck."
So that was how it was, then. Andrea saluted again. "Yes, sir. I'll report there, right away." Glancing down at her flight-suit, she shrugs, and then heads for the door. Not quite running, but definitely moving with expediency. Hopefully some folks got a laugh out of it.
"Someone will bring down your fatigues," Khloe says subvocally, hoping Hosedown catches it as she passes. It's not said with any sort of gentleness or softness, but just a common courtesy so the Lieutenant doesn't have to stew in a hot flight suit. And after Hosedown passes into the hallway, Khloe heads over to her own locker and throws it open; she crouches down and very carefully checks her socks and other clothing for tampering.