Bad Boys Bad Boys
Bad Boys, Bad Boys
Summary: Kai violates the sanctity of the marine country coffee pot, then a couple of marines drop by for a chat.
Date: PH129 (25 Aug 2009)
Related Logs: Just before: Explosion.

CEC Kharon, Deck 3, Security
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #129
OOC Time: Tue Aug 25 19:52:32 2009

A pair of staggered desks flank the entrance, one occupied during most hours by a desk sergeant, and the other rotates between other personnel. In the back is a bank of monitors on the port wall in a 180 degree view. The arc of stacked flatscreens is under the watchful eye of an MP or three during most hours of the day, and recorded for review otherwise. These monitors are visible from the S2's desk (directly across on the starboard wall) and the station set just in front of them. One of the feeds always on display is a feed of the Brig. Other secure areas have been wired in since warday. 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. An armored door at the far end of the room displays in bright white lettering 'Primary Small Arms,' and holds the main locker for storing the rifles and explosives aboard. A hatch midway through the room leads into the Small Arms Range.

The hatch opens and in steps the S2. She's wearing her blues, but the jacket is unbuttoned, and there's a mostly empty mug of coffee in hand. She says something quietly to one of the two MPs on duty, then continues on her way into the Hub. Something in her pocket crinkles slightly as she moves.

Now here's an interesting sight: the security hub's empty, for the most part, save for a lone interloper at the back by Salazar's desk. Which is right next to where the coffee machine happens to sit, incidentally. The interloper is not a marine, or so the crisp blues uniform would suggest. But he is availing himself of a cup of coffee. Stealth mission, GO.

Stealth mission, indeed. Salazar's eyes travel over the officer, starting at the shoes and sliding on up, with a pause right around the middle for a long moment. "Captain." She speaks only once she's made it over to her desk, and swung around closer to the coffee pot. "I don't remember giving you clearance to access that CMC asset."

Kai isn't completely oblivious. He just has zero sneaking ability, as evidenced by him sticking out here like a schoolgirl at a motorcycle club. Blue eyes tic over to Salazar briefly when she speaks his rank, then back to his three-quarters-full cup. "I didn't see a sign on it saying otherwise," he murmurs all too mildly, "so I assumed it was public domain. How's your evening going, Ensign?" He steps away from the machine, rests his backside against Salazar's desk, and takes a sip.

"I assure you that nothing in marine country is public domain," Salazar replies, moving over to the pot to re-heat her own cup with a top up to the half way mark. "With the possible exception of ass whuppin'." Her back is to Karim for a moment, and then she turns to face him, even as he perches on the edge of her desk. She doesn't bitch about it. She just steps forward, into the pilot's personal space, and leans across him to reach down and unlock her top right hand drawer. He'll have to drink his coffee over her shoulder, or wait for her to move.

Kai keeps his eyes on Salazar while she tops up her coffee. He might be watching her ass, or he might be doing no such thing. "All right," he murmurs, leaning to one hip so he can rifle around in his trouser pocket for something. "Peace offering." A pack of cigarettes is tossed across her desk, and his coffee switched hands when the marine leans across him to fetch something from her drawer. He doesn't get up, or out of her way. He's also not on duty, which probably accounts for his less than stiff manners.

The drawer is dragged open, and she reaches in with one hand, as her dark eyes rise to the Captain's face. Salazar lifts her arm, standard issue sidearm in hand, and lifts it, muzzle to the ceiling. "What gives the impression a peace offering is necessary, Karim?"

What is it about Salazar, and Karim, and firearms being involved? The CAG's got his holstered securely at his thigh. Standard-issue pistol given to all pilots, though a bit bulky in the undercarriage; it's probably been modified a time or two. "You'll refer to me as sir, Ensign," he points out somewhat tautly, eyes on the marine's weapon, and then his coffee as he takes a sip. As for the peace offering, "I don't think I'd be setting a good example to the wing, if I managed to start shit with the CMC over a cup of coffee."

"Apologies, sir." Salazar replies, weapon lowering to her hip. She puts her coffee down with a thunk, then pops the magazine on her firearm, and checks the chamber before clearing the weapon with a series of clicks and slides. "I mistook your ass on my desk as unofficial business." She tosses the mag to skitter across the desk, and reaches into her pocket to pull out a crinkly little packet. "Maybe if you put these in your mouth, sir, you'll find the concept of the sovereignty of the Corps a little easier to swallow." Crinkle.

Somewhat more allowed in marine country, though not exactly dressed for the official side of things is Barghest. The MP looks to the CAG and the S2 with a, "Sirs." and she ramrods a little bit. This could be awkward.

"Sovereignty? That's going a little far, Nikos." The CAG's already straightening by the time Salazar fishes something out of her pocket, so at least Barghest doesn't catch him lounging on the S2's desk like the lazy pilot he is. "But I'll accept a cookie." He holds out his free hand. "You didn't drug it, did you?" Can't you just feel the love? "Evening, Corporal."

"Not when we're in this room, sir." Salazar smiles, and drops the packet of cookies into the CAG's hand. She doesn't actually touch him. She leans in a little to aside, "I'll never tell," to the man, before she moves around her desk, to the back, and sets her sidearm gently down on the blotter. She reaches for her coffee, raises it, and sips. "Corporal."

Barghest clasps her hand, and her half-eaten package of cookies, behind her back, "Evenin, Captain, Ensign." There's a furtive glance between the two, two who need to 'talk with her'. Of course, it sounds like there's something going on between them already. "If this is a bad time, sirs, I can leave." she offers.

Kai has the good grace to look vaguely amused as the packet's dropped into his hand. "Thanks," he demurs in a low voice, and tucks it away in his pocket for later. Because if they are drugged, it'd be all kinds of undignified to collapse here in marine country. Not to mention dangerous. They might attack him with a sharpie, or worse. "Not at all, Corporal," he addresses the MP in a bland voice. "But if you two have business, I'll leave you to it." He lifts his coffee cup in 'salute' and heads for the hatch.

Salazar may or may not have a sharpie marker in the top center drawer of her desk. Who knows what could get written up and down the CAG's body. How long do you think it would take him to find out if he had the CMC pride song neatly printed on his back, hm? "Come in, Corporal."

Barghest gives another glance, then, "Yessir." A step, "Thank you, sir." The marine edges out of the way of the retreating(?) CAG, a question or two in her gaze, but she breaks off the stare in favor of the S2. Though she does offer a little awkward smile and a , "G'night, Captain."

Kai's coffee cup hides the smile that most assuredly threatened to tug at his lips for a moment there. "Enjoy your evening, Corporal." Off he goes, boots beating a crisp, if uneven cadence on the deck as he vanishes out the hatch.

Sal takes a seat behind her desk to shuffle around her paperwork, cleaning up her desk before she takes leave of the Sec Hub, though she's technically off duty just now. "Is there something I can help you with, Corporal?"

"Ah… well, you had mentioned that you… wanted to talk to me, sir. I thought you were going to the range and went to catch you." A shrug, then, Bar smiles weakly, "If this isn't the time…"

"Just a status check, Corporal," Salazar steps around the desk, coffee still in hand. She takes up the perch that the CAG recently left, sitting on the edge of her desk. "How are you coming with your reaction to the pilots in regards to comments about the late S2?"

Barghest lowers her eyes and shakes her head, "Not… as good as I should be, sir." she confesses. There's a pause, then, "I keep thinking I'm ok, and… someone mentions it and I just go off. The last time was with Lieutenant Black. I was… walking her out of the infirmary." Her eyes close and there's a couple seconds of silence, "She asked if it was true I was the one who shot him. I grabbed her, asked her what was wrong with her. She defended herself. I pinned her against the wall and asked her what it was to her." Her eyes open and glance sidelong toward the side the hatch would be on, behind her, "The Captain walked in at that point."

Salazar sits on the edge of her desk, a coffee cup in hand. She faces Barghest, and she watches the woman from her perch. "It's my understanding that the Lieutenant has that effect on many of the marines, Corporal." The comment is neither an approval or a chastisement, just a statement of fact. "I'll discuss it with the CAG." She's quiet for a moment. Sip. "How long ago was that?"

"A week, sir." Barghest replies, her eyes returning to the S2, "I've been talking to a couple of people about it, thinking maybe it would help. I… don't know what else to do." She pauses, "I know that it had to happen… once the situation started there wasn't any other way. I'm trying to remember that, I am…."

The CO isn't present at the moment, and seems to have delegated a lot of her duties to the S2 over the last weeks, so it is her desk to which the various sundry marines end up coming when there is an issue, a concern, or a complaint. The brass has been shifting with regularity in the CMC aboard the carrier. "Combat leaves its mark, Corporal. Be it on the field or in the home territory. No one is immune or apart from their actions. You didn't have a choice, you had to perform your duty, but you are not exempt from feeling the loss of a fellow marine." There's a long pause before she asks, "Have you seen the head shrinker?" Would she herself go? No. Is she required to bring it up? Yes. "Or the priestess?"

There's a tenative shake of the big marine's head, "No, sir." She doesn't offer an excuse. None would fly, anyway. Her eyes find a spot on the deck and she says, "I will." Since it was brought up, anyhow. A beat or two of silence, then, a somewhat anxious, "Is this… something that would get me relieved of duty, sir?" unpleasant possibility, that.

"No marine. This is a time of war. We're not going to sacrifice good people for a little difficulty with a hard call." Salazar straightens, sipping her coffee again. "Get it under control. Because there are other, less pleasant avenues. Joint PT with the Air Wing, for example." She tips forward a bit. "Which is entertaining as well as painful, particularly on stair drills." She smirks a bit, cracking on the endurance of fairies is always great fun.

This is probably the worst time for a 'fresh out of medbay and finding out how much things have changed and what he's missed' Sergeant Barnabas to walk it. So, you know, that's exactly what he does. It's an impressive, if annoying, trick. The second he's through the hatch, his hands are clasped together behind his back and any smile or grimace or… well, facial expression is gone. Apart from the smirk he can't get rid of, anyway. He's all business. And he's all patience, too. "Sorry, Sir. Didn't mean to interrupt." He half turns back towards the hatch, almost waiting for the 'Oi! Busy! Sod off!'

Barghest smiles faintly and gives a nod, "I'll do my best, sir!" she offers, giving a salute to the effect. A sidelong glance toward the side the hatch would be closer to, though her back is to it and most of her package of cookies is still clutched in her off hand.

The black haired S2 tosses a glance over toward the hatch, her eyes settle on Barnabas, and she indicates the second chair in front of her desk with a mug. No secrets in the Corps. "I know you will, Corporal." She returns a casual salute, then nods to the new arrival. "Sergeant Coma, I presume."

Barnabas stops his turning and resumes the 'standing up straight enough to give most people over fifty a backache just by watching.' "Yes, sir." Reflex salute, GO. "Alternatively, it's Volker. Or 'What the frak happened to you." Honestly, it hurts just to watch him standing like that. No man should be that straightened. It's probably the same reason he takes the free chair quite as quickly as he does.

Barghest comes down from the salute and offers a casual, "Hey, Sarge." as Barnabas settles in beside her. She glances at the chair at hand and, venturing a quizzical glance at Sal, she settles into it.

Salazar nods, finishing off her coffee before she reaches around behind her to set the mug onto the surface of the desk. Her sidearm is also laid out on the surface of the desk, empty mag separate from the weapon. "At ease, Sergeant. Have a seat. Salazar Nikos. I own the brig." Ask Bar what happened to Drarelle. Dare you.

"Imagine I'll adapt to the change quick enough, Sir." Barney manages to avoid asking while imagining the reasons the person owning the brig now ISN'T the one he knew before being Shot In The Face<tm>. Leaning back a little in the chair, he states his reasons for arriving. Without any speech impedment, either. Way to go concentration. "I need to re-orient and certify with most of the arms used aboard this vessel, as per the whole.." Waves his hand. Vaguely. "Face. Shot in. Thing."

Mori keeps to herself for the moment, as, well, they both outrank her and it's likely just as important as her own difficulties. Granted, that conversation is concluded. She takes a cookie out of the package for a nibble and pretends to otherwise be a part of the room.

Salazar nods. Her eyes rest on Barney for a moment, studying his scarred face briefly, until her attention settles on his eyes. "The small arms range is open almost 'round the clock." She nods to the arms lockers. "Good to have you up and about, Sergeant." No, she wasn't even on the ship when he up and about. Things change. You wake up and suddenly … we're still at war. Maybe they don't change all that much.

"It's good to be up and about, Sir. Although I'm not sure Castor feels the same way." Cough. Barnabas takes a moment to hide his mouth behind a hand. This time the smirk is on both sides of his mouth, so it's a little more difficult to pass off as part of being Shot In The.. oh you get the idea.

Better the cheek than the chin, one supposes. Bar munches contentedly away on the delectable gift from the S2 while she and the Sarge establish the reorientation thing. She finally breaks the silence with an offhanded, "It hasn't been a good month to be Castor."

Got the idea, son. But it's your responsibility to keep typing it out, and quit using being Shot in the Face<tm> for not wishing to type it out. Lazy, frak. "Castor Leda? Has the young man been challenging?" Salazar glances between the Bars.

"Not to me, Sir." Barney shakes his head, shifting to rest his hands on his lap as he talks. "He did try to spar with me, though." The Sergeant's eyes dart to look out of the top-right corners as he coughs a little, shifting eye contact. "It didn't go too well for him."

Barghest shakes her head, "No, sir. Was just referring to everything, then the Sarge here whipping his ass." There's a little shrug, "Sorry, sir, shutting up."

[Intercom] Legacy says, "Security Officers to the Game Room, please."

"Ah, no," Salazar replies, with a little smirk. "It wouldn't. I heard he's been getting his ass handed to him by girls in the gym all week long. I feel sorry for him, but only a little. I don't imagine he'll be challenging another marine to a spar in a while, unless he likes the abuse. Which is possible. He's a pilot." She opens her mouth to say more, then glances up as the comms go off. "Hm. Looks like someone's fun got a little out of hand." She nods to the two seated. "Come with me. Let's hope it's pilots."

Barghest rises at the call, giving a glance to the So's in the room. She takes the invitation from the S2 as gospel and grabs a loadout, slapping the bells and whistles into place with the familiarity of plenty of drilling. She's otherwise in her offduties, but, hey, you're never truly off duty, are you? "Yessir!"

Barney actually rolls his eyes at the sound of the comms. Well, at the message. It's a softly exhaled sigh that preceds the "Well, at least some things haven't changed." and his standing. Let's not mention he's not even back to active service yet.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License