Summary: Jupes delivers a formal apology to Ashe.
Date: PH 47 (04 June 2009)
Related Logs: Difference of Opinion & Sound It Out.

CEC Kharon, Deck 2, Security Hub
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #47
OOC Time: Thu Jun 04 23:04:45 2009

This room is the defacto headquarters for Marine operations on board the ship and also serves as their office. There are a pair of desks that flank the entrance to the door and another at the rear, that one obviously belonging to the Marine CO. A Colonial Marine Corps flag hangs proudly in the corner, accompanied by pictures of Marines in action and paintings depicting famous battles of the Cylon War and other actions. A picture of the Commandant of the CMC also hangs on the far wall as a reminder. There is a small video monitor in the corner that feeds into a camera in the brig, displaying a live feed into the office. As well, an armored door at the far end of the room displays in bright white lettering 'Primary Small Arms,' denoting the Security Hub as holding the main locker for storing the rifles and explosives aboard. Another hatch on the opposite end of the room denotes it as leading to the Small Arms Range.

[Intercom] Over the ship comms comes a female voice. "Pass the word! Lance Corporal Swift, please report to the Sec Hub. Lance Corporal Swift to the Security Hub."

Lieutenant JG Black stands, in duty uniform, by the desk inside the Sec Hub, waiting on the recipient of her page to arrive. She only checks her watch once, to her credit.

Oh Ashe is in no hurry at all, he's got sweat on his brow when he arrives clearly having been in the gym in a true Marine fashion. His gait isn't lazy but it is far from sprinting. Walking into the Hub he stops, spots who it is and fights desperate the urge to roll his eyes instead falling into a loose attention.

Jupiter nods toward the hatch to the range. It's currently empty (she checked). "Lance Corporal, if you would accompany me." The tone is mild. She turns and walks into the range.

Ashe's eyes blink and shoot momentarily towards a weapons locker, doing a quick count to see if they are all there before walking behind and into the weapons range.

CEC Kharon, Deck 2, Small Arms Range

This room contains the typical layout of a fleet range. There are four stalls running out to twenty-five yards, each having their own target system run on a simple mechanical pulley mechanism. At the rear of the room is a waist-high table for reloading magazines or for setting down range bags. A large storage locker to the side contains additional hearing protection, stocks of range ammunition and protective eyewear. Hanging from the ceiling by a pair of chains, and easily visible when walking through the door is a listing of range rules.

Once inside the range, Jupiter moves a few feet from the firing lines, and turns to face Ashe. She appears to be unarmed. "At ease." She drops into a more or less relaxed stance, though her hands remain clasped behind her back. Blue eyes turn to the Corporal's. She clears her throat. "Lance Corporal Swift," She begins. "I apologize for my actions in Sick Bay. My physical assault of your person outside of a sparring zone was unacceptable, and a disservice to this very fine uniform."

Oh. It dawns on Ashe rather quickly exactly what this is so he races through reactions and plasters his face into an utterly expressionless fixation. His eyes fall directly on Jupiter's without a bone or hint of sympathy behind them as she goes through her whole spiel.

The spiel is not over. Jupiter takes a breath, and breathes out slowly. When she speaks again, her voice is solid, doesn't waver a bit, and the words are expressed with the utmost sincerity, "I regret the friction that my actions have caused between the branches." Her left eye twitches ever so slightly. "I appreciate the role the Colonial Marine Corps plays in the defense of our way of life, and I will endeavor to show it and its agents the proper respect in the future."

He really tries. Well no, he doesn't. A hand lifts up to cover Ashe's mouth, whether the yawn behind it is real or faked is anyone's guess but at least he is polite enough to cover it while continuing to stare directly at Jupiter.

"On a personal note," The Lieutenant pauses again, and her chin comes up almost imperceptably. Jupiter's eyes remain on Ashe's, her posture almost perfect for a parade rest. "I wish you a speedy and pain free recovery from your injuries." She swallows. Home stretch. You can do it, Jupes! "If you need assistance at any time in the gym, either through physical therapy or beyond, please don't hesitate to have me paged." Her jaw clenches hard, then slowly, slowly relaxes.

Ashe nods his head, "On behalf of myself and the CMC, I wish to extend my appreciation to Captain Marek for the apology. Please let him know that we will continue to do our work to ensure the safety of this ship and that his dutiful work has not gone unappreciated."

Jupiter internally counts to about seventeen. The pause is quite lengthy for a conversational pause, but this isn't really a conversation. "I wrote that myself. They teach us how to form full sentences in Officer training." It was going so well. "I'll inform my squadron leader that the apology was delivered to a captive audience." She nods slightly. "Thank you for your time, Lance Corporal."

"You wrote it yourself. Because you were told to right? Because if you didn't you'd be grounded forever, right?" Ashe asks with a slight achieving smirk. "I appreciate the apology from the Air-Wing, I truly do. It acknowledges there was a mistake made. But you don't see that, Lieutenant. So your words ring hollow, I'm sorry. Really, I wish I could accept them but I can't. You don't mean them, do you."

"I meant everything I said." Jupiter can reply honestly, because of the way it was phrased. And the last part, well. The chances of Ashe taking her up on it? Almost nil. It's like an un-vitation. She smiles very slightly, and her eye stay on his. "My fellow pilots are in no way responsible for my words or actions. The hostility between the branches was amped up by my actions, and the resulting misconceptions about them. I do regret it, and despite my personal feelings about you, you are a soldier and this vessel is a war ship. The CMC needs your body."

So many things Ashe could say, so very many but he stands there staring at the woman flatly. "Everything you said hmm. So if you were informed that for my rehab procedures I am required to undergo an upper body massage you'll be volunteering to take care of such?" There's a tilt to his head. "I'm not gullible, Lieutenant. Here is my concern. You wrote those words, but you and I both know the second you don't like something you'll react the same way. And that makes you dangerous in my book."

"You are welcome to have your opinions about me, Lance Corporal." Jupiter's hands remain behind her back, loosely clasped. Her posture displays zero tension. She can drop it, sometimes, when she's expecting the hostility. "I am not qualified in medical massage. I'm sure the nursing staff, or a physical therapist, is equipped. I stand by my words, if your stomach is strong enough." Oh, look. It's like word chicken.

"Unfortunately, Lieutenant, I'm fairly certain in my recovery phase or even after, my stomach my not be able to withstand extended exposures to you…. r work out methods." Ashe says the last with a dark smile. "If that is all, Lieutenant. I have real work to get back to."

Jupiter's smile very closely mimics Ashe's. "I understand the sentiment completely." She nods again, with minimal expenditure of energy. "That is all."

Ashe slides to the side to allow the woman to pass, sniffing indignantly as he does apparently wanting to usher her out of his 'home office' as rapidly as possible. Something is muttered under his breath, very under his breath. "… itch."

"Very mature, Lance Corporal," Jupiter replies, words carrying the amusement of a little smirk, as she passes by the marine on her way out the hatch.

"Mature? I do not understand Lieutenant… most adults tend to have a need to scratch an itch. I would believe maturity is not doing it blatantly in front of an officer rather waiting until they pass on, sir. But if you feel that is immaturity, then I apologize." Ashe states rather stone-faced.

Jupiter shakes her head slightly, and continues on. Yes, her hands remain behind her back. It's safer this way, you see. "Have a good evening."

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