PHD #417: You Hear Me?
You Hear Me?
Summary: Constin has words with a recuperating Kincaid.
Date: 19 Apr 2042 AE
Related Logs: Donut's varied investigations
Players:
Constin Kincaid 
Recovery Room - Deck 10
This is the box where a Donut recovers.
Post-Holocaust Day: #417

You know, Donut had a pretty good record of not getting shot on these missions. On Sagittaron? He didn't get shot. On the basestar raid? He didn't get shot. But Areion Marines? They just seem to have it out for him. He's propped up on a hospital bed, bandages wrapped around both his hands and all along his left arm, which is in a cast. Although he had been pretty heavily drugged before, he's more lucid now, the nurse tells the calling Master-at-Arms. And so he is propped up, staring on off in the middle distance when Elf arrives.

Though still swathed in gauze and medical tape beneath his tank tops and loese unifrom shirt, Constin steps back into the medical wing, already back at work aboard the boat, sidearm strapped to his left thigh. "Donut," the big man grunts in even greeting as he regards the laid-up Lance Corporal. "Got a couple things for you."

"You'll excuse me if I don't get up or take out my pad to take notes, Gunny," Danny says drolly, snapping out of the middle distance and turning to regard Constin. "Let me tell you, as a guy who reads and writes for a living, having two wrapped up hands makes it pretty hard to do either." But then he grows more serious: "What can I do for you?"

"Long as your ears still work, I ain't wasted the trip," Constin returns, dryly, settling his boots to shoulder width and eyeing Danny. "How much you heard about what went down while we were deployed to Aerion?" he begins.

"Uhm. Allan Rejn's a skin job." Clearly, that still blows Danny's mind, just judging from his tone of voice. "Sawyer and some kid from the Deck just up and vanished in a Raptor with McQueen." He's mentally running down the list of the gossip he's heard. And judging from his tone of voice on the second item, he's pretty damn worried about that one. "Anything I missed?"

Constin's expression relaxes back into the stern frown he typically wears as Danny speaks. "A bit. Couple folk were persuaded to stage a hostage taking in support of Kepner, while most of the combat personnel were deployed. They're sitting in the brig, but got a couple leads from shaking them down. That tall blond you were looking for?" he prompts with a raised brow, "Lieutenant Junior Grade Ios Santorin. Aerion Intel. Found him hiding in the Starboard Hangar during a confined-to-quarters spell. He copped to bombing Tillman." A slowly drawn breath. "Tracked down another rat, in the same sweep. Thought you'd want to know."

"Well, that explains that." Danny nods. "I'm sure he'll cop to Vandenberg's computer, too. They were using Cylon code up in CIC, I heard, so that explains how he pulled off such an elaborate hack on the Lieutenant's system." He lets out a heavy breath. "So, case closed, Gunny, right? We figured it out. Just … a little bit too late." He glances away at that.

"No more bombings, at least," Constin states in answer to 'too late'. "Crimes on ship gotta get punished, however long it takes. S'the only way to keep order, yeah?" Another slow breath drawn in through the nose. "Which is the other thing I gotta have words with you on, Lance. How many times have you disregarded confidential status of information in regards to that woman?"

"If you're going to call my best friend who's kidnapped 'that woman,' Gunny, we're not going to have a very productive conversation." Call it the morpha. Or call it the worry. But that's pretty flip, even for Danny. Still, he stands pat on that answer for now.

"Donut," the big sergeant returns, with a terse tone coloring his voice. "I ran your ass through basic m'self. I know how much you got smashed over the head with how important trust is in the Service. Especially Em-Pees. Now best friend or not, you tell me something: what am I supposed to do with a military policeman who disregards orders and knowingly leaks confidential material?"

"First, Gunny, I don't know where you've gotten the notion that I'm running around telling Sawyer things. Second, Sawyer's been a good friend of this Fleet; she was up on frakkin' CIC fighting those hackers from Areion and no one was asking about clearances then." Kincaid's weary voice is getting just a little bit more elevated, or at least as elevated as it can be given his injuries. "But third, and most importantly, I'm not sure what you're going to do me, but I do know that I was the only one getting to the bottom of any of these cases while everyone else stormed around the ship in fits of self-righteousness. If I wasn't just one step behind that frakker Kepner —" His voice trails off. "Look, Gunny, I don't know what you want, but if you're going to need to read me my Article 31 rights, I suggest you do that. Otherwise, I'd appreciate that I'm the best detective you've got that in Security Hub and leave it there. Or at least try interrogating me when I'm not on a morpha drip which would render questionable the voluntariness of any waivers I make or statements I might give that you'd want to later use against me." Contrite? Not really, no.

"Oh I know very damned well you're the best investigator I've got, Lance," Constin answers flat and stern. "I know you ain't a coward, and I know you you have it in you to be a damned good marine. What I also know is that you were seen discussing confidential material in the common areas of Deck Six, within eyesight and earshot of personnel without clearance. I ain't here to get you to confess. I ain't here to gather intel, or gain information. I am here, off duty, talking to a fella who is on the fast track to frakking up his whole damned life." Kincaid's sass only deepens Constin's scowl. "What I want is for you to hear me out real clear: knowingly volunteering confidential information to non-service personnel is considered an act of espionage. Vandenberg already wants you strung up by your ballsack for blabbing that hacking business.. Donut, do NOT give me a reason to come down on you. Hear me?"

"I hear you, Gunny." Kincaid half closes his eyes. Perhaps its the medication. Perhaps its something else. "I definitely hear you." His eyes open again. "Besides, if 'she' doesn't come back, well, nothing to worry about, right? Might as well save yourself the trouble until we figure out what happens there." It has been, after all, four days. "Anything else? I appreciate the visit and you telling me about Santorin."

"We can't pick and choose what rules we obey or enforce, Donut," Constin adds, scowl relaxing somewhat. "Or who we enforce them for." A short exhale and shake of his head. "Less you got something to say to me?"

Kincaid shakes his head, though the motion clearly comes at some pain to him. "That's all I've got. Thanks for stopping by, though. I do appreciate it." And he does, at least seem to mean that much.

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