Friendly Fire
Friendly Fire
Summary: The S2 temporarily releases Swift from the Brig.
Date: Early Morning PH202 (05 November 2009)
Related Logs: One
Players:
Salazar..Cinder..Ashe..

CEC Kharon, Deck 2, Brig
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #202 (Early Morning - Pre Mission)
OOC Time: Fri Nov 06 17:25:43 2009


While the larger classes of the fleet might have two separate brigs, one for officers and one for enlisted, this would not be the case on the Kharon. Three cells are packed into this small room, each containing a toilet and bed. The bars provide no privacy, possibly as an incentive to the ship's crew to stay out of this room. Done in the same drab battleship gray that the rest of the ship is, there is only a single desk to occupy this room which faces the cells. Perhaps a bit oddly, this room is almost as strictly utilitarian as the Naval Offices.


A few hours before the big mission, the S2 steps into the Brig. She wears the black tee, black cargo pants, and combat boots that are part of the combat blacks. The armor is still in the Sec Hub. She wears her sidearm, but there is no rank designation on her collar. She tosses a slim folder on the desk for the duty MP.

Cinder rests at the desk for the duty MP, here instead of on the ship patrol duty today with the expectation of action in the near-future. She looks up as the S2 enters in, dressed like her in the marine blacks, but with the whole ensemble on, rifle resting next to her chair as the desk (safety on). "Evening Sir," the Private offers the S2 as she walks in. "Prisoner information?" she asks, flipping the cover of the folder open to begin looking through.

Sitting rather passively in his cell is Ashe, hands folded over in front of him and eyes rather attentively scanning about the lines of the bulkhead. Afterall, the magazines in the Brig are horrible and he has already seen all the movie selections so he is stuck with the boredom etched on his features.

Salazar nods to the MP. "Good evening, Private." She reaches up to twist her hair up and back, and secures it with a couple of pins while she stands there. "It's a schedule for Ozymandias. Permissions list is attached." She turns and heads over toward Swift's cell, and her hands drop to her hips as she stands there. "Swift. I'm sure you're aware we have a major mission tonight. Is your trigger finger affected by your recent psychological issues?"

The prisoner information dropped off, and the S2 heading toward the brig with Ashe, Cinder makes herself silent, except for the occasional flip of a sheet of paper. She makes sure to read it carefully, information contained within regarding the other prisoner currently in the brig; what the S2 and Ashe are discussing is none of her business, unless things go downhill of course.

Ashe looks up at Salazar and a little smile touches his lips. "Sir, no sir. My trigger finger is fine. If anything sir? The sound of bullets clanking into toasters might actually alleviate some of whatever is plaguing my brain, sir."

The S2 regards the marine with a dark eyed, steady gaze. "We need as many feet on the ground as we can get. Your incredible lapse in judgment is going to put you back in the Brig until the Major decides what to do with you. In the mean time, I'm releasing you for the offensive. If you so much as hesitate long enough to think when I give you an order on the surface, I will shoot you myself. Are we clear?"

"Sir? If I so much as hesitate at an order, I'll save you the bullet and I'll shoot myself." Which is a very strong affirmation of understanding. Ashe picks himself up off the bunk rather rapidly, already starting to stretch his shoulders and arms some after having been penned up.

All the talk of the assault has Cinder wondering if she's going to be left here, at her duty station or running around on ship patrol while the more veteran marines pound the ground. She's not about to open her mouth and bug the S2 with that concern right now, however; the talk of releasing Ashe gets her on her feet, picking her rifle up and slinging the strap over her shoulder, sliding the gun itself to a vertical position behind her arm. Already she's reaching for her keys, to be ready and let him out should he and the S2 agree.

"Private Brand," Salazar nods to Ashe, eyes still on the troubled marine as she speaks to the MP. "Gear up with Swift. We'll be hitting the Hangar Bay in," she glances at her watch. "An hour and a half. I'll see you both there."

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