Fate of the Bunker Hill, Part III

Corridor

This massive Corridor is indeed a very busy place. People mull around taking care of whatever tasks may be at hand. Along the cold steel walls are Advertisements and Vangard Recruitment posters. A tram carries Cargo through the massive round spoked door leading to the Docking Arm.

Sondrix comes to a straight-backed, proud at-ease, her mercurial light-violet eyes made darker by the angle of the harsh light angling down from the installed fixtures on the ceiling. "Yes sir."

Avocet clanks down the ladder into the corridor.

Starr settles into an 'at-ease' that almost seems like attention at the Colonel's command. "Sir."

Strand arrives from Promenade .

Avocet stands near the ladder, datapad in hand as he strides toward the docking arm.

Strand comes down the lift, making a half-hearted show of heading somewhere Very Important. However, he obviously isn't in a huge hurry as he sticks around for a bit.

Avocet pauses as he catches Captain Sondrix in the corner of his eye. He turns toward her. "Captain...a moment?"

Warrick is in the act of standing rigidly near Sondrix, Fireeyes, and Starr when the General enters. Smoothly he pivots, somehow maintaining the impression that his heels have, the entire time, remained fixedly together. His hand cuts a sharp arc towards his brow, voice deep and calm when it comes. "Sir."

Avocet returns the salute from Warrick, looking rather grim.

Sondrix follows the Colonel's lead, saluting with the languid precision that so characterizes her. "General sir."

Avocet nods, then steps over into a corner, gesturing for Sondrix to follow.

Starr turns quickly and salutes as well, sharply enough to cut glass. "Sir!"

Strand drops his briefcase and opens it, taking out his electronic notepad and looking at it critically.

Sondrix's brow arcs a fraction but she dutifully moves to where Avocet is. "Yes sir?"

Avocet holds up the datapad in his right hand, speaking softly, but firmly. "You're sure this information is accurate?"

Warrick's hands fall to the base of his spine, palms out. His eyes track Sondrix for a moment as she passes him, then move on to Starr.

Warrick says, "I trust that you are well, Corporal?"

Sondrix reaches for the pad, her eyes busy reading lines of data. "Yes sir. More than sure, sir. Captain Marcus can vouch for it as he was present for part of the time."

Avocet nods. "Nothing wrong with your instruments? All properly calibrated?"

Starr views her CO's actions, and falls into a rigid at ease. "Yes, sir. I am well."

A Vanguard lieutenant arrives and begins to speak to Strand in hushed tones. Strand rubs his chin and listens intently.

Sondrix holds out the pad for Avocet to take. "The instruments were just tuned and recaliberated prior to testing sir. It is a requirement. Everything is accurate as I have found it sir."

Avocet waves his free hand. "I believe you. But keep those records handy. Might need them for any kind of hearing."

Avocet glances toward the docking arm, then back at Sondrix. "How are the physicals coming? Anyone proving ill?"

The lieutenant shows Strand a datapad and indicates some points of interest. Strand nods thoughtfully.

Warrick says, "Very good, Corporal. I trust also that you have not been overly inconvenienced by the recent bout of tests?"

Sondrix inclines her head in acknowledgement of Avocet's first words. To the second set, she returns a calm, "So far no sir, although there is a 48 hour observation on two of the personnel right now sir. As long as the Echo's quarantine remains unbreached this time, all should be well."

Avocet nods. "Have you gone over the ship?"

Starr blankly says, "There was no inconvenience, sir. The tests were necessary, after all."

The lieutenant leaves the datapad in Strand's hands and says something to conclude the conversation. Strand nods with a bright smile and thanks the lieutenant.

Fireeyes looks at Starr oddly, as if waiting for something, a test maybe.

Sondrix says calmly, "Yes I have, General sir. There have been no further developments save perhaps a breach of quarantine today which Lieutenant Corisk reported."

Strand frowns in concentration at the dim glow emanating from the screen of the datapad. He seems momentarily lost in thought.

Starr slowly turns her head to look levelly at the Demarian. "May I help you?"

Avocet nods to Sondrix. "I'll await your ruling on whether we should lift the quarantine."

Warrick's gaze shifts to the Demarian, brows quirking slightly.

Curtis arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Curtis climbs up from the lower level.

Strand stands with a datapad, lost in thought.

Almost Sondrix's lips quirk ever so slightly. "I will give you the report as soon as I have finished with the testing sir. My current position is that there is no danger, but I will know for sure relatively soon in a few days."

Avocet nods. "Good, Captain."

Strand looks up for a moment from the datapad, his face contorted in an expression of confusion. He notices Curtis.

Curtis approaches the group and snaps a salute to Avocet. "Evening, General."

Avocet nods to Curtis, snapping off a salute in reply. "Hello. How are you, Colonel?"

Strand packs the datapad away into his briefcase and walks toward Curtis, standing back a respectful distance as the conversation with the General ensues.

Curtis says, "Fine as always."

Sondrix comes to salute to Curtis. "Sir."

Curtis nods and returns the salute.

Avocet glances from Curtis to Strand, then back to the colonel. "Colonel, Mr. Strand over there has been looking for you. Something about a job with the JAG."

Strand inclines his head slightly, "Colonel."

Sondrix takes a step back so as to allow Avocet to converse better with both Strand and Curtis.

Curtis says, "We are always in need of competent lawyers in JAG. I am sure we can work out something."

Strand offers in an attempt to be helpful, "I have done some research on the Bunker Hill case, as per your suggestion, General.

Avocet nods to Strand. "Good for you."

Starr removes her gaze from the silent Demarian and stares straight ahead.

Sondrix's brow arcs just a fraction as she returns to the at-ease position, back ramrod straight.

Avocet holds his datapad up briefly, then says to Curtis. "Might be shipping a case to your office soon enough. Conduct unbecoming."

Strand turns to watch Curtis' reaction.

Warrick's gaze returns to Starr. With a slight reduction of volume, though not one that renders inaudible his rather imposing voice, he inquires, "How fares your family in the present reconstruction?"

Sondrix's eyes turn towards Warrick as he speaks, quiet concern in her eyes at the question. Concern perhaps for Starr, although she keeps glances at Warrick nonetheless.

Fireeyes holds up his hand, "Avocet, I require a talk with you," Fireeyes glares around the room, "privately, and as soon as possible."

Starr's eyes widen a trifle at Warrick's question, but her response is calm and measured. "My family fares well. As well as can be expected. The dead have been mourned and buried, the destroyed sections of the compound are being rebuilt."

Strand seems perhaps just a touch hopeful that after spending so long doing minor legal research and tiny jobs that no one else seems to want while articling, he might get a real case.

Avocet glances around at the sound of the command and fixes his eyes on the Demarian. "Excuse me?"

Fireeyes nods, "Yes. I require a talk with you."

Avocet says, "You...require?"

Fireeyes doesn't seem to understand the General's hearing problem, "Yes...require."

Avocet takes a few steps closer to the Demarian, clasping his hands behind his back, brow furrowing toward his eyes like stormclouds. "*YOU* require? Mister, last time I checked, you don't outrank me. You sure as hell don't have any years on me. *YOU* don't require anything of *me*, and I don't give anything I don't damn well want to. Now you can take your required talk and shove up your furry chute. Are we clear?"

Curtis smirks slightly.

Sondrix's brows *arc* at the Demarian. She however straightens her back further and merely observes silently.

Fireeyes holds up a letter, addressed by the President of the Consortium, "I do not. Be he does."

Avocet nods. "Then send President Dahan to see me. Him, I'll talk to. You can take a flying leap into a fusion reactor."

Strand watches the exchange impassively.

Warrick's brows, which have arched so high that they threaten to meet even his close cropped hair.

Fireeyes remains cool, "I am under his orders. And his orders require a private council between us."

Avocet says, "Do they? I'll have to confirm that, of course. And then I'll get back to you. Eventually."

Avocet turns and walks back toward Curtis.

Curtis is still smirking at Fireeyes.

Avocet looks down at his datapad. "I see your blood alcohol level wasn't too low last night either, Mr. Fireeyes." He does this without looking at the Demarian.

Sondrix's glance slants towards Warrick and Starr as she slides her hands from behind her back to rest at her sides, moving with deliberate, military strides to the two Marines.

Avocet glances slowly toward Fireeyes. "You aren't drunk now...are you?"

Fireeyes looks unmoved, "Avocet. I was ordered to be shown a good time."

Avocet nods. "I can't think of a better place for you to have fun than the medical bay." He looks toward Sondrix. "Let's allow our guest to enjoy the benefits of another blood test. Make sure he's healthy."

Warrick's brows, somehow, manage to inch a half centimeter further upwards.

Fireeyes eyes narrow, then moves to Sondrix, "It is pure redundancy to do so, but you must do what you are ordered."

Avocet lifts his chin, then turns his attention back to Curtis. "Sorry about the interruption."

Starr stays as emotionless as a statue, blinking a few times.

Strand turns back to the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Sondrix's own brows arch upwards. She merely says, however, "Yes sir!" and coming to a salute. She turns her gaze to Fireeyes meditatively. "Please follow me sir. Corporal, would you attend me please? And Colonel Warrick, you are welcome as always as you know."

Curtis's usual stone face has nearly cracked a smile. But his stern discipline kicks back in. "No worries, General. Perhaps I should prepare my case materials for that one, just in case?"

Avocet chuckles. "He's not Vanguard."

Curtis says, "Ah. A pity. I would have enjoyed that challenge."

Curtis says, "Anyways, back to the business at hand."

Starr salutes and follows Sondrix like a shadow.

Warrick nods slightly to Sondrix, "I will join you, Captain."

Avocet nods to Curtis, then looks back to Strand. "Joining the JAG office, correct?"

Sondrix sweeps serenely into the medical bay.

Strand nods, "Yes, General."

Sondrix heads into Medical Department.

Starr heads into Medical Department.

Fireeyes heads into Medical Department.

Warrick heads into Medical Department.

Avocet chuckles, watching the Marines escort the troublesome Demarian away. "Require *that*, Mister."

Curtis chuckles.

Avocet gestures to the ladder. "Let's head down to the briefing room for now, shall we?"

Curtis nods.

Strand smiles slightly as he feels it's expected of him.

Strand nods.

Curtis grabs the runs and begins the trek down

Curtis heads into Security Checkpoint.

Avocet steps toward the ladder and climbs down

You head into Security Checkpoint.

Security Checkpoint

All the doors and hatches in this section of the station are well reinforced, to prevent intruders from moving onward. Brighter than anywhere else in the station, lights shine into every shadow of cold grey steel supports and deck platform. Security Guards are constantly on station, and watch you with a careful eye.

You head into Briefing Room.

Briefing Room

This room serves as a general meeting room for the Citadel staff. The far wall has the logo of the Citadel alongside the logo of the Vanguard. The Vanguard flag sits in one corner next to the Consortium flag. The long table in the middle of the room is able to hold about 20 people. Small computer terminals can be found at each seat.

Curtis arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Curtis has arrived.

Curtis takes his usual seat.

Strand arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Strand has arrived.

Avocet takes his seat at the center of the starboard side of the table.

Strand sits down beside Curtis.

Avocet glances curiously toward Strand, then shrugs. "I guess you're official, eh?" He chuckles.

Strand shows Avocet his identification card, "I'm official, General. Although if you'd like me to leave I apologize for intruding."

Avocet shakes his head, smiling tightly. "No problem at all, son. Get comfortable. Enjoy it while it lasts."

Curtis sets his datapad on the table and begins studying it.

Cubana steps into the room silently, she stops by the door momentarily to survery those gathered here.

Cubana then, as quietly as she entered, turns around and walks out.

Cubana heads into Security Checkpoint.

Strand decides that, having crashed a meeting, he won't take notes, so he folds his hands neatly on the table.

Avocet clears his throat. "So, Mr. Strand, what's your background? Where'd you go to school?"

Strand replies with a touch of pride, "University of British Columbia Law School, General. This is my first legal job since I finished articling."

Avocet quirks his eyebrows. "First legal job. Interesting qualification. Done anything else?"

Strand smiles a bit, observing a touch defensively, "I articled at Thompson, Hunter, Clarke, General. It's a fairly reputable law firm. I focused mostly on criminal law there."

Triax arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Avocet nods. "And before that? Ever do, you know..real work?"

Triax heads into Security Checkpoint.

Strand admits, "Well... summer jobs, General... not really related to law..."

Cubana arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Cubana heads into Security Checkpoint.

Avocet nods, smiling tightly at Strand, then looks toward the door.

Strand sighs slightly and loses his smile after Avocet looks away.

Rathmon sits back on his chair.

Strand senses that the inquiry is about to recommence and picks up his briefcase, nodding to Curtis and Avocet with a fresh small smile, and heads back to his seat from the previous nights.

Avocet glances at the chronometer on his wrist. "How long does it take to draw a little blood from a mouthy Demarian?"

Rathmon pulls out a knife, "Want me to assist, Sir?"

Triax arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Fireeyes arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Rathmon shrugs and places his knife back into its sheathe.

Fireeyes goes to take a seat, acting as if nothing happened.

Avocet nods to Rathmon, smiling faintly.

Triax arrives, looking sharp in his pressed dress uniform. He presents himself in front of avocet, standing at attention and saluting firmly, "Sir."

Avocet raises an eyebrow as he sees Triax and returns the salute. "Lieutenant."

Triax nods, relaxes and flashes a quick smile to Avocet, then finds a seat at the table

Avocet doesn't smile. His eyes remain on Triax, then drift back to Curtis, and then to the datapad before him on the table.

Triax takes a deep breath, relaxing a bit into his chair on the exhale, and begins tapping at the PADD built into his seat, perhaps preparing to take notes

Long distance to Rathmon: Avocet grins. "Go ahead."

Sondrix arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Fireeyes sends a letter to you *through your aide* stating, "I give up, you win, I know I have no choice but to beg for your forgiveness. I humbly *request* your permission to take the Foxtrot back to our base."

Starr arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Rathmon watches things for a bit then pulls out a knife and starts whittling a piece of wood.

Triax looks up to eye sondrix as she enters, shifts glance to starr, then returns attention to his PADD

Sondrix enters the briefing room and comes to crisp salute to all the officers present. "Sirs."

Starr follows suit, saluting.

The general's aide takes a message from Fireeyes, then takes it over to the general and hands it to him. The general unfolds the sheet of paper, reads the message scrawled there, then looks over at Fireeyes. The grim look on his face clearly says "Not now." He looks to Sondrix, and snaps off a salute.

Strand pulls out a datapad and prepares for another session.

Rathmon nods to Sondrix with a smile and continues to whittle.

Fireeyes relaxes and looks rather defeated.

Avocet crumples the piece of paper, hands it to the aide, then leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers.

Sondrix makes her way with long-legged strides to the table where she draws out a seat and lowers herself into it carefully. She nods to Starr to follow suit, although her eyes search the gathering of Vanguard personnel as if looking for something or someone.

Curtis sets his datapad into note taking mode.

Warrick arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Starr marches over to her seat at the table, almost like an automaton. She sits down neatly, brushing off her uniform.

Cubana arrives from Security Checkpoint.

Cubana enters the room following Colonel Warrick and steps up towards the table taking a seat.

Triax whispers to Fireeyes.

Warrick moves in at a brisk clip, seating himself at the table on the side of the Marines rather rigidly.

Fireeyes whispers to Triax.

Avocet stands. "This inquiry is back on the record. The time is 2012 hours, 27 July 2651. We have concluded questioning in the matter of the 3rd Regimental Combat Team's actions surrounding the loss of the Bunker Hill. Tonight we have gathered to conclude this matter." He looks to his colleagues on the panel, one at a time. "Each member of this board will have a chance to rise and speak their mind on this issue before I issue the final stand of the Vanguard. Colonel Curtis, you may go first." He smoothes the front of his jacket, then sits.

Sondrix sits even straighter than before, if that's possible. Her eyes go to Warrick for a moment, somewhat anxious and concerned, before turning their mercurial gaze towards the named Colonel Curtis. Her hands rest calmly in her lap.

Curtis rises and smoothes his uniform.

Triax makes a final keystroke on his PADD, leans back a bit, and steeples his fingers, eyes now affixed on Curtis

Fireeyes's eyebrows move a little as his eyes, slightly concealed by the shades but with enough glow to see through, fix upon Curtis.

Warrick's gaze falls upon Curtis, grave and blue.

Curtis says, "Overall, throughout this inquiry, I feel I have heard very well constructed dodges of the truth, and obvious omissions of the truth. Even if there was legitimate reason to attack and kill an alien crew, there was certainly no reason to bring their ship, bearing who knows what possible contaminants and chemicals aboard the Citdael in a blatant disregard for the safety of those aboard this station. And that is all I have to say on the matter."

Curtis returns to his seat

Triax exhales and blinks

Sondrix's eyes blaze for a moment, the only display of temper she's shown through the whole hearing. Her lips press tightly together but she doesn't say anything. Although, when her turn comes to speak, that might be a different story.

Cubana continues to sit back calmly.

Starr's only reaction is a slight flaring of her nostrils.

Warrick listens impassively.

Rathmon whittles his wood block.

Avocet nods. "Colonel Cubana."

Triax notices Rathmon, his lips begin to form a smile, but he quickly looks to cubana, breaking his distraction

Strand begins immediately to analyse the statements being made, his expression one of contemplation.

Cubana stands, her eyes scanning the crowd and stopping to rest on the various Marines, "I have served in capacities and situations very similar to the one you where faced with a few short days ago. And I know that the decision you..and your commander faced were not simple ones. Understanding that you made the best decisions you felt you could have made under the circumstances does not however, blind me to the fact that those decisions weren't necessarily the correct ones. I hope you will all learn from your mistakes, whether you realize them as such at this point or will come to realize them in the future. Next time it may benefit you to think of who the true intruder is before jumping for your weapons."

Cubana then returns to her seat, her eyes resting on Warrick as she does.

Avocet nods, then looks toward Rathmon. "Colonel Rathmon, your thoughts?"

Starr narrows her eyes, resting them on Cubana with a glare.

Warrick meets Cubana's gaze levelly. As she concludes her speech. He withdraws from his pocket a small, electronic notepad. This he places on the table before him. His gaze shifts to Rathmon.

Triax exhales once more, somehow an indication of agreement with the statement

Sondrix draws a deep breath, her expression now mirror smooth. One hand automatically adjusts something on her finger as she now turns her focus towards Rathmon.

Rathmon puts his whittling down, and stands.

Rathmon turns to face the panel.

Rathmon says, "I am not as well spoken as my fellow panelist, but here goes."

Rathmon smiles, "All the races within the Consortium have known have learned one thing, that no matter how prepared, or how well trained we think we are. The unknown of this universe will throw you a curve.

Rathmon paces as he speaks, "We were not out there when this mission occured, we were not in the catbird seat so to speak." chuckles, "They did what they thought was necessary, misakes occur in any operation. Lets move on and work on the future. I recommend for leniency." and then sits back down to his whittling.

Avocet remains seated, fingers steepled, giving the colonel's words a few moments to sink in. Then he releases a sigh, places his palms on the table and stands. He pours himself a glass of water. Takes a long sip. Sets it down.

Strand raises an eyebrow and nods to himself.

Triax remains distant for a second as he thinks, then snaps out of it and raises his eyes to Avocet

Sondrix's glance shifts to the General now, very serious. There is the faintest hint of tension in her bearing. Just a touch.

Starr calms herself slightly, though her stormy grey eyes reflect her anxiety.

Warrick's gaze trails to Avocet. He remains rigidly impassive, blue eyes locking onto the General's face.

Rathmon whittles.

Avocet clasps his hands behind his back. "These are Marines. They don't ask for leniency. They shouldn't expect it. That said, two things ring true from these proceedings. One, the Marines had no choice but to stand and fight against the hostile aliens. They couldn't run. It wasn't their fault they were there. If we want to blame someone for that, they stand about four feet tall and are just asking to have their scaly butts kicked. Two, the Marines clearly compromised the safety and well-being of everyone on this station and perhaps in this sector by landing the Echo Foxtrot without proper quarantine procedures - no matter how pressing the need might have seemed at the time to put that ship down."

Cubana smirks a little at the Nall portion of the statement.

Rathmon frowns.

Avocet lifts his chin. "That said, it is the finding of the Vanguard that the Marines are not at fault in the destruction of the Bunker Hill or the death of Lt. Col. Josiah. However..."

Triax furrows his brow, weighing the two points

Avocet lets his eyes drift from Sondrix to Starr, and then finally resting on Warrick. "Clearly, procedures were violated. Quarantines weren't followed. Subordinates destroyed vital evidence."

Triax nods ever-so-mildly

Sondrix's eyes flare. Just for a moment but she locks gaze with Avocet and coolly waits.

Warrick's face remains implacably stony. He simply watches Avocet.

Avocet says, "The 3rd Regimental Combat Team is now under the following orders: You will continue to work on the investigation into these attacks on the Versailles, your vessel and the Andromeda. You will do so while being based here, on Citadel. And, in one month's time, when work begins on the new archeological and commerce facility on M'mralu, this squad will be assigned there to protect the civilians."

Curtis nods in approval.

Rathmon raises an eyebrow.

Triax nods in seeming content and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms as his eyes scan the marines

Just for a very brief moment Sondrix's eyes waver, drop a little, then lift again.

Strand raises an eyebrow as well, and begins ferverantly looking up case law on his datapad.

Avocet looks to his colleagues on the panel. "I thank you for your time and your input in this matter." He looks back to Warrick and the other Marines. "This inquiry is adjourned."

Curtis nods, and rises.

Starr blinks. Twice.

Strand hmms to himself, shrugs, and stands, placing the datapad neatly away in his briefcase.

Cubana stands and turns to Avocet whispering.

Cubana whispers, "Will Doctor Sondrix be joining htem, Sir?"

Warrick collects his notepad from the table. He places it in his pocket. He then rises, saluting Avocet crisply.

Avocet nods to Cubana.

Sondrix turns her head just slightly to look at Warrick and Starr. For a long moment her eyes rest on the two Marines, then she stands in Warrick's wake, saluting Avocet as well.

Triax pops a memory cartridge from the desktop computer, pockets it, and stands

Cubana nods slowly, turning and walking towards the Marines.

Rathmon finishes whittling for a moment, puts it away and stands up.

Rathmon walks towards Cubana.

Avocet returns the salute from the Marines.

Cubana stops as Rathmon approaches and turns towards him.

Starr stands up, as if rising through water, then salutes as well.

Rathmon quirks an eyebrow questioningly.

Avocet salutes Starr, then takes a sip of water.

Triax looks rather vacant, in thought, more several seconds, then quickly snaps to attention and salutes Avocet

Fireeyes rises at last, barely mustering the strength.

Avocet notices Triax and says, "Son, get over here. Now."

Cubana turns and walks towards the group once again.

Rathmon follows.

Triax lowers his salute, and trot/marches to Avocet's side, "Yessir?"

Avocet turns his eyes to follow Triax, picking up his datapad. "Drinking on duty?"

Curtis listens to this.

Strand decides that he's not going to wait. He turns and walks out of the briefing room.

Warrick allows his salute to fall, gaze shifting to Cubana as she approaches.

Strand heads into Security Checkpoint.

Fireeyes politely wishes to interject.

Triax nods, "Yessir. It was...an attempt at fulfilling a prior mission of diplomacy, that went too far. Sir."

Cubana is stiff and unemotional as ever as she motions to the door, and simply eyes him awaiting.

Rathmon eyes Cubana.

Avocet grimaces. "Of course, Lieutenant. You can explain that to the court."

Fireeyes says, with his head hanging down, "I was my fault he took the alchohol."

Sondrix moves from the table, almost like an old woman. One hand absently reaches into her bulging labcoat pocket, bringing out a rather battered looking stethescope.

Avocet glances toward Fireeyes. "Great. Testify in his defense."

Triax oddly seems unaffected, "Yessir. i take full responsibility"

Avocet sighs and shakes his head. "Dismissed, Lieutenant."

Cubana catches Sondrix out of the corner of her eye, and looks otwards her hesitating for a moment before shifting back to Warrick.

Curtis nods to Triax. "We'll see, Lieutenant. I'll see you in court."

Triax salutes again, and files out of the room.

Warrick shakes his head. "No, Colonel. I have had my fill of hushed debate. Your First Officer died in combat, catching a shot meant for a Marine. He was a good man. His body is in the morgue."

Fireeyes shakes his head, "It was my fault he was drinking..." he barely manages, "sir."

Avocet nods to Fireeyes. "Yes, yes. You can go too. Or do you need another blood test?"

Sondrix interjects at this, very softly. "He was a brave man Colonel M'aam. And if you wish to pay last respects M'aam, I can take you there."

Triax stops right in the doorway, remaining faced out...he then proceeds outwards

Cubana clears her throat slightly tightening up a bit more, "It is a matter of respect,not hushed debate Colonel. But that is what i wanted to konw" she glances towards Rathmon then back at Warrick, "Thank you."

Starr stands attentively, but respectfully.

Cubana turns towards Sondrix, "I will be arranging for the burial services and have alread contacted his family...as i told the Colonel.." she glances back at Warrick her eyes hardening for a moment before returning to Sondrix, "A memorial service, should he wish to approve of it, has already been sceduled for the Marines who perished."

Cubana glances towards Warrick one last time then back at Sondrix, "I would like to speak with you outside for a moment...Colonel Warrick may wish to be there, but he is by no means requierd." she states before adding, "Since doing so seems to take so much effort on his part."

Warrick says, "I appreciate your gesture, Colonel, but I will arrange a service for my men. Thank you for your concern."

Avocet turns and strides toward the door.

You head into Security Checkpoint.

Security Checkpoint

All the doors and hatches in this section of the station are well reinforced, to prevent intruders from moving onward. Brighter than anywhere else in the station, lights shine into every shadow of cold grey steel supports and deck platform. Security Guards are constantly on station, and watch you with a careful eye.

Rathmon arrives from Briefing Room.

Avocet walks toward the ladder leading up.

Rathmon says, "General?"

Avocet stops, turning toward Rathmon. "Yes, Colonel?"

Rathmon says, "You were mentioning the matter of more FTL craft to be added to my squadron?"

Triax arrives from Briefing Room.

Cubana arrives from Briefing Room.

Avocet nods to Rathmon. "That's right. I've got them on order."

Cubana steps out and seems to be waiting for someone.

Deering arrives from Corridor.

Avocet is standing by the ladder, speaking with Rathmon.

Fireeyes arrives from Briefing Room.

Triax heads into Corridor.

Triax arrives from Corridor.

Rathmon nods, "Sir, what are your plans for the squadrons, with the Versailles in dry dock and all."

Fireeyes waits with his head down in the corner, writing a note to his to Avocet's aide.

Cubana watches the door as various people step out not making any move to move, her patience fleeting.

Sondrix arrives from Briefing Room.

Deering looks about at what the ruckus is all about, looking to the people to se who she can get some answers from.

Warrick arrives from Briefing Room.

Triax hears the mention of squadrons and perks as ear, listening

Avocet smiles faintly. "Good question, Colonel. One moment." He takes his datapad and punches up a display.

Warrick emerges, following Cubana closely.

Cubana spots Sondrix and immediately turns on her heels and steps into the holding cells.

Cubana inserts her ID card into the slot by the Holding Area door.

The Holding Area door's light flashes OPEN and slides open.

Cubana has left.

Rathmon nods.

Sondrix's brow arches as she emerges from the room to find so many people. She follows Cubana into the holding cells, frowning a little.

Sondrix inserts her ID card into the slot by the Holding Area door.

The Holding Area door's light flashes FAIL and remains closed.

Cubana has arrived.

Cubana inserts her ID card into the slot by the Holding Area door.

The Holding Area door's light flashes OPEN and slides open.

Sondrix has left.

The Out door slides closed.

Cubana has left.

Starr arrives from Briefing Room.

Starr has arrived.

Avocet says, "Ok, Colonel Rathmon...the fighter wings are now both under your command. As is the Versailles. She's not going anywhere for a while - so, you'll be based here for now."

Strand heads into Corridor.

Triax is leaning against a bulkhead, listening to the report

You head over to the door.

Avocet inserts his ID card into the slot by the Holding Area door.

The Holding Area door's light flashes OPEN and slides open.

Warrick has left.

Deering lifts up her hand from where she stands on the side, trying to wave Triax down.

Fireeyes tears up the note, knowing that his request has not been forgotten yet.

The Holding Area door slides closed.

Rathmon nods

Rathmon says, "Very well, sir."

Triax approaches Rathmon, "sir?"

Rathmon looks at Triax, "Aye?"

Starr heads into Corridor.

Starr has left.

Triax salutes, "2nd Lt. Triax Xavien, sir. I'm...*smile*...in your squadron, sir. I don't beleive we've met, I felt compelled to introduce myself." He smiles

Deering folds her arms as she stands off to the side, trying to listen in on a half a dozen conversations at once. She snaps to attention when an officer goes by and salutes, but other than that, she watches the crowd.

Rathmon returns the salute.

Seems like Cubana and I have been told two totally opposite things here.

Rathmon nods, "Perhaps we should speak, when your soberd up?"

Triax chuckles, and looks down, "My apologies about that sir. I shamed the squadron...It won't happen again."

Triax returns direct eye contact for the "it won't..." part

Rathmon nods, "2nd Lt. it better not, with the times as they are I need to rely on each and everyone of my pilots."

Rathmon nods, "However, I'll let you rise or fall on your own merits." smiling. "Just don't let me down, we'll be starting a few training sessions soon."

Deering moves from the wall and walks over towards Triax and Rathmon, but stays a safe distance away not to intrude and goes at ease.

Triax nods, "Aye, sir. I assure you, you /can/ count on me. I hope my future behavior can prove this too you." He smiles, and salutes again. "Good day sir. A pleasure meeting you." He brings down the salute and flashes a smile agian, then backs into the crowd...

Rathmon nods and retuns the salute. "Take care."

Avocet smiles tightly, then glances toward Deering. "Hello again, Recruit."

Deering turns her head when she hears that magical word, 'recruit', and sees Avocet. She starts to smile a bit, but remebers herself and goes to attention and salutes. "Sir."

Avocet returns the salute. "Enjoy the tour?"

Rathmon returns his attention to the General.

Deering gives a brief nod as she stares forward, "Yes sir, I did sir. Very much, sir...thank you, sir."

Triax is taken aback by the sheer magnitude of "sirs" in that sentence

Deering lets her feet spread slightly and folds her hands behind her back. She turns to Rathmon and nods to him, "Sir.", acknolwedging him.

Fireeyes wearily writes another note with his head down to Avocet through his aide, when he does not seem to be busy, about a latter note.

Rathmon nods, "Greetings, Recruit. Relax, the General hes a tough bird, but he won't bite to hard."

The aide walks over to Avocet, another folded note in hand. Avocet turns, sees the note, sees Fireeyes close at hand and snaps, "Furball, get your tail over here *NOW!*"

Triax although not involved in the conversation, can't help but laugh a little at the statement

Triax then looks rather in shock at the general

Fireeyes shyly walks over, tail hanging low.

Avocet jabs a finger toward the note in his aide's hand. "How many trees do you intend to kill before you get a goddamned clue? Echo Foxtrot isn't going anywhere until Captain Sondrix clears this base from quarantine alert. You'll be informed when that time comes. Are we clear?"

Fireeyes nods, "Crystal...sir."

Avocet narrows his eyes. "I somehow doubt that."

You say, "So, let me reiterate..."

Deering nods a little and gives a complementary smile to Rathmon. "Than you sir.", and goes from her and sbeing behind her back, to being folded in front of her waist. Real loose. "Ahh...sir, I believe that I am to be under your command. I was assigned to the Versailles, though I am unsure if that has changed, tonight..?"

Fireeyes heads into Corridor.

Avocet steps closer to Fireeyes. "If I get one more note from you, I won't send you to the medical bay for a blood test. I'll send you in for a barium enema. Maybe two. Is THAT clear?

Fireeyes sighs, "Crystal.........sir."

Triax tries very hard but can't help laughing at his Demarin friend. He manages to keep it down after a second.

Deering glances to Avocet and Fireeyes at the yelling, but lowers her eyes and knows her place.

Avocet nods. "I hope so, Mister." Glances toward Triax. "And you might just go with him."

Triax stands at firm attention as the cold gaze reached him

Avocet smiles tightly at Rathmon, nods to Deering, then climbs the ladder.