AWD #609: Admiral Fencer Arrives
Admiral Fencer Arrives
Summary: The Arpay Task Force Admiral Fencer arrives unexpectedly in the Orion's Mess Hall.
Date: 20/02/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Jimenez and Elias logs
Lleufer Pratt Fencer 
Mess Hall, Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Crew Mess on the battlestar is one of the larger rooms meant for occupation. The room is far longer than it is wide with the classic stainless steel tables that can be seen anywhere else on the ship, standard to all navy ships. Most of the chairs match, their padding on the seats worn down after several years. Towards the rear of the room is the food prep area and serving lines. During the time in between meals the Mess will serve midrats, or 'mid-shift rations', such as sandwiches and drinks. Coffee pots are left to run at all hours to keep people going as needed.
Thu Sep 07 19:23:57 2006

Third shift evening mess means things will soon be winding down for ship's brief 'night' before first shift will be back up again in the morning wanting breakfast. Among those in here, Staff Sergeant Lleufer Ynyr moves through the line and fills up his tray. Plenty of protein, not a lot of carbs, plenty of vegies and something for fiber. Cut up apple will do for his desert. A big glass of unsweet tea and the MP leaves the line to go and find a place to sit.

No sunglasses today. With his eyes better adjusted, Lleu's pupils are large and dark like some drug addict. Or like an Arpay. His ears too are uncovered and in plain sight. While he's still getting some strange looks, Ynyr ignores them and looks around for some of his fellow Leathernecks. Sure enough he finds some and takes a seat to join them, offering greetings. They welcome him. Lleu sets to cutting up his food and adds salt in prep to eat his supper.

Lleu would know Fencer would be aboard to meet with Jameson and have applied the detail to that. Two Marines to match his own two MPs. He probably wasn't expecting to actually see the guy, but he walks into the Mess with confidence like he belongs here. Two Arpay MP's with him, one of whom Lleu recognizes from his time at Arpay. The Orion MP's train behind. They're all heavily armed except for Fencer who simple wears his gunbelt. The guy has an empty white mug in his hand as he heads for the food line. People do actually stare at him and the escort, watching him. The din only dies a little. He looks over the options and waits behind the others. He just shrugs and some Specialist dumps mac n cheese and a hamburger on his tray. There's a question and then the specilist aims at the coffee urns. The tray is brought with him to the coffee pots and he gets a mug. A sniff and a pleased grimace. Moving off the gang follows him. Fencer is looking for an empty table when he spots Lleu and the ears. He chuckles and heads that direction. "Sergeant Ynyr?" the Admiral asks on approach. "Mind if I grab a chair?" Asks the 400 pound gorilla.

Yep, and plenty more MP's and general Marines tapped to double the watch while the Arpay Admiral is on board, if Ynyr could get that approved by Command. Because no body wants any incidents or accidents. For his own part, Lleu is scarfing down his meal fast so he can get back on duty himself before said Admiral should be departing his meeting with the Orion's Command Staff. He checks his chronometer and keeps on eating, washing all down with drinks of his tea. No loitering at his meal tonight.

The change in the sound of the mess warns him. Lleufer stops eating and turns his head along with the rest and he also stares. Whatever his thoughts, he keeps them to himself and studies the group, and the reactions of everyone else in here. His own tray is now forgotten. The Staff Sergeant's in his MP uniform, armed, but not yet cleared for combat missions. And then the Arpay Admiral comes directly towards himself.

Ynyr gets up from his seat and stands at attention. "Of course you are welcome, Sir!" Quietly he moves his own tray over and pulls out a chair with one hand since the Admiral's hands are full.

Fencer watches the guy go to attention and the rest of the tables around go silent. The Admiral glances around and nods, then looks back to Lleufer. "At ease, speak your mind, all that. Appreciated." He puts down the tray and mug then taps his chest twice as he takes his seat. He looks at the mac and cheese and hamburger and shrugs. "This is mostly news to me. Admiral Jimenez said I needed to eat the food and definitely try something you all call coffee." He glances up. "Tell me the truth, am I going to hate myself tomorrow for eating or drinking this stuff?" he laughs lightly. "Don't laugh, you all are used to it," he says, but he laughs anyway.

The Arpay Admiral is not in his CoC but it seemed due the respect. Ynyr's mouth twists into a lopsided smile to the right. The left side of his face is considerably less mobile with a slightly droopy eyelide on that side. The MP relaxes and once Fencer has taken a seat, he resumes his own. "It's all right, sir. Probably won't give you too much gas or upset. That's mild chow. I like the spicier, hot foods myself. When we can get fresh up from Piraeus however, that's really worth having. Trout, sir." Or, something close enough like it.

Pratt ducks his to step through the hatch, aiming for some coffee and something to munch on. He doesn't recognize the Arpay Admiral, but the mention of Jimenez catches the large Tauron's attention, so that after coffee and bagel are acquired, he sort of gravitates that direction, offering Ynyr a slow nod of his head in recognition. The first person he addresses is Fencer, however, "Sir. Good afternoon."

The MP's, all of them, move to a nearby wall. The senior Arpay starts a light chat with the Orion MP. Meanwhile the other two seem to keep a close eye on everyone around. Most common way to break the ice? Offer to trade smokes. They both try each others. Seems some vices travel. Meanwhile Fencer tkes up his fork and looks at the mac. "No. Coffee first." Fork back down, he takes the mug up. Burgers are close to what the Arpay have, but the Apray fare Lleu ate was more like eating tender steak between a bun. "What's trout? Two or four legs? Prefer four myself." He sips the coffee and then suddenly looks at it. "Shit." He blinks, grinning. "Oh this is good." He sips it again before looking up to Pratt. Up and up. "Afternoon. Care to join us?" He offers a hand. "I heard you all shake hands. "Mike Fencer." Its then offered to Lleu. "I know the Sergeant is an MP," he tells Pratt. "Think I recognize you from the file. Were you back at The Rally Point, also?" He eyes the wings. He has some stitched into his uniform just above 'Arpay Navy'. At least they have nametapes on the other side.

"Lieutenant." Lleufer glanced up at Pratt's arrival, then listens to the Admiral as he watches the Arpay. He doesn't go back to eating and had demolished most of his food in great time, but he does pick up his tea to drink of it. After a moment he says, "No sir. Fish, from cold mountain streams. White flesh. But we also have beef from cattle." A gesture to the hamburger, "Much like your steaks." He continues in Arpay himself, then smiles at the comment about the coffee. "Lieutenant Pratt was on the Erol with myself and the others, that is correct, Sir. I am an MP and Master at Arms." And he's due back to his duty station real soon now but as Fencer is /here/ … Lleufer remains seated.

Pratt murmurs a low ~Thank you, sir~ when he's offered a seat, settling his large butt down with a soft grunt, ~And yes sir. I and Major St. Clair were the two pilots. I didn't recall your face, but then we obviously didn't meet everyone. Very relieved everything worked out well so far.~ With that said, he takes a moment to drain a good portion of his mug of coffee. Maybe in a bit of amusement, he lifts his hands up a bit and adds, ~You saved us from spending the rest of our lives thirty thousand light years away from all this with a broken ship. We're still in your debt, sir." To Lleufer, he nods slowly in agreement with everything he's said.

Fencer sips the coffee again, seemingly -quite- impressed with the brew. Even for shitty, burned coffee. He reaches for the fork again and seems ot understand. "Love fish, but only the stuff I catch. Most of the fish the fleet feeds us has been frozen for six months and tastes like it." He takes a forkful of the mac n cheese and regards it carefully as he chews, relaxing a little. The news about the Master at Arms has him 'Mm!' and he swallows. "Hey, do me a favor and I'll owe you? I need to put mics around the ship. You all can pick where. But we need to record everyday conversation in all forms. We need it so we can plug Colonial into the razers and learn your language. If you're Master at Arms, can you kick that up the chain for me? You all can sanitize it, use your own devices, I don't care. We just need the language. We'll be here for awhile." Looking to Pratt, he shakes his head. "That's a negative, Lieutenant. We didn't meet. I was at home when you all appeared. Heard plenty about it, though. Talk of the town, as it were. Jimenez's return only stoked those fires. But you all took the leap. I'm guessing you all may be a little familiar with small miracles. Funny how they seem to pay off disproportionately." He chuckles and reaches for the burger. "What you fly, is that the same thing we have our tech geeks pouring over?" Alastair left a couple days ago for an advisory mission with a Raptor on the Weller Hill and a shitload of Cylon parts.

Lleufer finishes his tea, "Yeah, not quite that fresh. But we don't get much fish otherwise because of heavy metals and rad contamination else where." A gesture with his tea glass to Fencer's cup of coffee, "That's the skuzzy mess coffee that's burnt and probably fake. You should taste the real thing, sir. It's much better. Command staff and the CMO in medical have the best stashes. Doctor Jimenez, if she's back, can get you some to try."

Ynyr thinks a moment about the request, "I'll … see what I can do, Admiral. It's a safer bet, in my opinion, that we can get you tapes from archives. Almost immedately." But wiring the ship up with mics to pick up causual conversations? Probably not. For several reasons Lleu can think off of the top of his head. He smiles faintly and listens to the Admiral addressing Pratt and discussing the Erol and atmo-capible craft.

Pratt mmms at the Admiral's request and glances at Lleu, then offers, "I don't mind carrying a recorder of my own, sir, if that'll help - pilots usually have a recorder running anyway. But yeah, Sarge will have better luck getting em all over the ship." He reaches up to tug at his own collar for just a moment, finally tearing off a piece of bagel to pop into his mouth and munch on for a moment, then answers the question asked, "I'm not sure which ones the staff have, sir, but I fly Raptors, Rhinos, and Predators. A Raptor was the ship we were flying when we ran into you folks the first time. Most folks call it a bus." With that said, he smiles faintly like it's the joke it is, "Just don't call a Raptor pilot a bus driver unless you wanna lose a few teeth or you already know em pretty well."

"Yeah, I imagine. I won't wax poetic about what happened to you all. Fucking shame - only way to put it. Wouldn't mind trying some of the fish, though, if its fresh. But I've also been told to wait to be invited to Piraeus. So, heh, hopefully in time." He takes a bite of the burger and listens. The idea of movies has him think, really considering that. "That might work. could leave pockets. If you've got some very realistic war movies, include them. We need to understand tactical concepts and the words you all use for them. But-" he shrugs, "-kick it up the chain. I asked Jameson about it but I also asked about five hundred other things. Might get lost." He drinks more of the brew and looks to Pratt, "Run it past your command. I'll take whatever we can get to synthesize. The more we have, the better our understanding of the language. We all need to understand each other as soon as possible." He takes another bite of the burger and chews it, sitting back in the chair as he listens. Swallowing, he laughs. "I like you. Ain't afraid to make a threat. Definitely a combat pilot. I spent forty-three years in Hornets. Those are our fighters. But," he shakes a finger to Pratt, "I talked to Lieutenant Piers before I left. And Doc Harper, the project lead. They're all working on upgrading your Raptors. They've got some serious upgrades coming down the pipe. Piers looked pretty excited."

Lleufer listens and thins his mouth, "I think, to be blunt sir, wiring the ship with mic pickups is a security risk. Too accessable to being tapped by Cylon agents. But we do have large stoes of gun footage, a library on this very deck filled with books, films, documentaries, history, and samples of Colonial as spoken on every world of the Colonies, even those we have lost. Without making people nervous about being recorded, Admiral. We have both Airwing and Marine footage with both audio and visual that can be cleared for your use." Ynyr fiddles with his ice and eats some of it while the other two go back to discussing combat aircraft.

Pratt smiles a little more at the pilot comment, but listens for a but while the Admiral talks about upgrading the Raptors. The huge Tauron lifts a brow in curiosity, sucking down a bit more of the swill coffee before he murmurs, "That'd be pretty damned nice, sir, and if it's got onea your folks excited, it damned near will end up blowing our pants off, so I'll be looking forward to seeing it up close. Thank you for the heads up, sir." He nods at Lleufer's suggestion and blinks a bit, "He's right. We have a library of movies that might help with that…might help your historians see what we used to have around too, before the toasters went bonkers on us."

Fencer chews more of his burger while he listens to Lleu. In the end he nods slowly and aims a finger off the burger. "I wasn't aware you all recorded your fights. Perfect. That's better. As for Cylons intercepting? In the past we used single devices unnetworked. But networks mean something different to us, too. That would definitely work better." He washes down a bite with coffee and shrugs, speaking to both. "Honestly, I'd love to see some of your own movies. I think I've seen every damned thing we've put out about ten times. Entertainment, gun camera, whatever. Admiral Jimenez gave us a lot of info, but refusd to bring back too many details. Lady had the sack to stand in front of a board of Admirals and tell us that if we wanted to know, then we should head out here ourselves." He snorts a laugh and forks up another bite of mac. It lets him think while he chews, looking to Pratt. "Mm. Doc Harper said you all don't use networks. Is that right? You took some kind of fallback defense and unplugged?"

BOTH of Ynyr's eyebrows go up, though is right considerly more than his left. "Now that is a brilliant idea. We surely can make copies of library films, entertainment cubes, music, anything you want. After you vet it for yourselves, I imagine if you think it's suitable for mass consumption, such materials could be brilliant for both RP and education to inform your own people about us. And I'm reasonably certain Major Gray could have an interest if you offered to reciprocate in kind, Sir. For us to view. Freshen things up on both sides considerably. Well, our side, to be sure." Boost moral too, help ease fears. "I can speak to Ensign Penta about it, and Major Gray." Ynyr almost laughs at the news of what Jimenez had the balls to say! He leaves the networks issue to Pratt.

Pratt nods slowly at the Admiral's last question, "Right, no interconnection of systems. The first cylon war, those things became something they took advantage of, and well, a human can't think as fast as a computer does, so…you're screwed if a machine got access to your system. So warships were specifically isolated systems." He trails off while he listens to Lleufer's commentary and nods along in agreement, then adds, "You'd have to ask /our/ Admiral about us handing over copies of our flight recorders, but to be honest, I can't see that anything on them is going to be protected secrets, save for some of the more isolated missions…and even then, you can probably get most of them."

"I need to see everything first to vet it. Admiral Jimenez is no longer in the command rotation, though, while she is serving with you all. But I'll take whatever I can get. We've been doing this a long time. I can shoot it back home. But sharing our stuff?" He reaches for the mug with one hand and waggles the other over the table. "You all are Erfriki. We're playing this slow. We don't want to influence you all too much. I've got orders to actually just let you all do what you will and assist where we can. But I can give things that will help calm some fears. Outlines on government, who we are, all that. Typical information we bring to a civilization. More, hopefully, will come in time." Fencer then sips the mug, happy to be drinking this. "Sergeant, I don't care if you think this is bad. Have you all considered weaponizing this?" he laughs. "You want a trade to Arpay? This is it." He holds the mug up, though, taking in the smell as he looks back to Pratt. "I'm happy to take what I can get, Lieutenant. I can talk to brass all day, but I'm a fighter pilot. Always will be. You want to understand the situation, talk to people on the ground. Or in the air." He sips the mug and leaves it close to his chin, leaned forward. "Shit, you guys actually managed to beat them back without a network. That's impressive." Fencer takes a breath. "Harper said his team is installing a quantum computing system. Normal fare for us. You'll get the same network encryption. I'm not a computer geek, but I get the principles of it. We use the system to generate new encryption algorithms on the fly. Sort of like a Schreodingers Cat. Someone who isn't supposed to see the data see's different data. Its enough of a flash in time for the system to broadcast new encryption. The Sheens don't even try to hack us anymore. They can better put their processors to use in gun systems and predictive targeting."

Now it's Lleu's turn to nod to what Pratt says, "Lieutenant's right. Even I can't pull flight tapes of gun footage without clearance from Airwing. So I'll get on it. Should be able to get you at least a few things pretty quickly and more once I have permissions." Everything vetted. His right brow goes up, "Weaponizing what precisely, Sir?" Coffee, or soap opera dramas? Ynyr very slightly frowns at the denial of counter sharing entertainment materials but he doesn't comment. Instead he returns to listening.

Pratt nods slowly at the admiral and smiles a bit, "I don't know computers at all, sir. I fly big boats and manage not to run into things or get my passengers killed. Before this, I hauled ore barges around and managed not to plow them into things or asteroids. I'll leave the tech up to the tech people and trust them to get it right. But if you can give us a network they can't even hack? that sounds like a pretty damned good thing, sir." He downs the last of his coffee and eyes the bottom of the mug for a second, then sets it back down.

"Take the time required for your fleet, Sergeant. You all move at your own pace. I've got a thirty year mandate on anchorage. I've been here about twenty-four hours. We have time," Fencer chuckles. "Weaponizing the coffee. Jimenez said to try this. I want about a thouand gallons of this for myself, personally." He notices the frown. "Don't sweat the lack of sharing. We need you all to be yourselves. This will come in time. There are more immediate problems. But like I said, we've got plenty of info. I'm just under orders to not mass distribute it without a lot of consultation from your own Admiral." He then sips down the mug again, nearing bottom. "Oh, I'm pretty sure you'll get more than a network. I find it pretty interesting that you all have managed to do what you have done with, no offense, non-combat backgrounds. We've read a lot of files on arpay. This is why we are ordered to let you all develop with the tech on your own terms. We'll bring it here for proof of concept, and we will teach it, but its up to you all to implement it and develop. My engineers can advise, but only so far."

Lleufer gives a slow nod the Admiral, "Understood sir. As for the coffee… we are running short on supplies and don't have nearly enough access to food stuffs for people. It's not very likely we can ship any over to your side. But ripe coffee cherries can probably be obtained from Scorpia. I heard they were trying to get it to grow in warmer parts of Piraeus but it takes about five years for the trees to start bearing and they are touchy about soil." He shrugs, "I'm sure an ag specialist could be hunted up." Aerilians know the damnest things about farming and ranching. The last Fencer says makes Ynyr smile, "We prefer to develope it on our own. The shared information is much apprecicated, and the help, but in the long run we do have to remain self sufficient. And we won't understand the tech if we don't learn if from the ground up, first."

Pratt murmurs softly at the Admira, "None taken…" He chuckles low under his breath, "I was a corporate ore pilot, not a miltary-trained one." Lleufer talks about coffee and he nods slowly, lowering his voice, "Something better in the coffee department would be a wonderful thing, indeed." He trails back off there to eat another bite of his bagel and listens to the exchange between Lleufer and the Arpayan. Finally, he eyes his mug again and murmurs, "Be right back…" and hops up to go refill it.

Ynyr adds, "You should also try chocolate, sir."

Fencer listens to the point about coffee and nods slowly. Hmm. This is now troubling. "You all may want to start planting. I'm pretty sure we've got a fleet that might need a stock. Might make for solid trade in a lot of matters. Just putting that out there." The last from Ynyr gets a chuckle. "Jimenez gets a lot of respect but she doesn't have the bluntness most of us do. Its like this: I'm not here to wipe your asses. I'm here to supplement offensive and defensive capabilities while you all rebuild your own fleet. When it comes to you all, we are not giving hand-outs. We will teach you all. Then we expect your all to teach yourselves. At Arpay we can produce things faster, but its going to be your resources or trade and your own people doing it. I've got crews for my own ships, not for the ones you build. This is all on you." There's a finality to it. But at least it isn't cloaked behind kind words or diplomacy. To Pratt, "One thing we've come to learn is that it isn't about what your past was. It is all about what you do with it in the now. We've seen nursemaids lead planetary revolts just because they have the will and the passion. Use what you have and make it count. Clearly you have. Be damned proud of your experience." He reaches for Pratt's mug. "No, lemme grab that. I need more of my own. I might be an Admiral but I insist." He takes the mugs and goes for a refill.

There is an amused look for Pratt going to refill his cup. Lleu woudn't mind a cup himself but he'll get it later. Back to the Admiral he says, "That's how -we- prefer it as well, Admiral. We don't want handouts, and won't take them unless we really have to just to get by long enough to do for ourselves. I can assure you we are in agreement 100 percent on that score, sir." Firmly. "Until recently, no offense, but we've been doing just fine on our own. So we appreciate the allies and friendships, but we aren't looking for a teat to suck."

Ah well, there's the Arpay Admiral fetching /Pratt/ his coffee. Lleu looks at the pilot to see if the Lieutenant is going to share any quiet comment before the Admiral returns.

There is an amused look for Pratt going to refill his cup. Lleu woudn't mind a cup himself but he'll get it later. Back to the Admiral he says, "That's how -we- prefer it as well, Admiral. We don't want handouts, and won't take them unless we really have to just to get by long enough to do for ourselves. I can assure you we are in agreement 100 percent on that score, sir." Firmly. "Until recently, no offense, but we've been doing just fine on our own. So we appreciate the allies and friendships, but we aren't looking for a teat to suck."

Ah well, there's the Arpay Admiral fetching /them/ coffee. Lleu looks at the pilot to see if the Lieutenant is going to share any quiet comment before the Admiral returns. (repose)

Pratt chuckles in agreement with the Admiral's comment about one's background, but then, wait, what? An Admiral is getting his coffee refill, and the Tauron is a little polaxed, "Sir, you don't have…" but he's already off. Pratt finally sits down and shoots Lleufer a look like he's not entirely certain what to do about this. Instead he finally glances back at Fencer when the man approaches again and offers, "Thank you, sir." Waiting until the man settles back down, he glances back to Lleufer and offers a lower, "As long as they tell me where people need to be blown or what needs to be blown up, I'm good. I don't pretend to understand a lot of the planning that's been going on….strategy was never my strength at all, and always lost those games when I tried to play my friends." He smiles a little at that and takes a deep breath and lets go of it.

The two MP's sharing smokes keep an eye while they are talking, learning to understand each other a little better. The junior enlisted follow under the watchful eye. He refills all three mugs, several members of the crew watching an Admiral get coffee. In the mess. For other people. He returns with three piping mugs and hands them out, careful to keep his own. The insignia on it is clearly for himself, 'ADM FENCER, CSG-19' and a design above it. A muscled figure with two swords in the shape of bolts standing in front of a generic globed planet. "We get people begging us all the damned time for evac. Or people tell us to fuck off. Depends on the civilization. A few want to stand and fight, but even they're largely swinging blades or kicking off muskets. Its a slaughter. You all are already fighting and kicking ass." Mike sips his mug. "You all want the upgrades, we'll teach. We sure as hell aren't catching your fish for you." Looking back to Pratt, he shrugs. "Tactical acumen is learned. You don't have to be a combat genius to lead people. We see that all the time. Some comfy rich guy in comfortable white sheets wants to lead a combat line against the Sheens. But the guy or gal never understands their men or what they are fighting for. People need to be lead by people who understand them. Professional militaries are few and far between. Don't sweat the high end, just fly your ship, save lives, and kill. There's no reason it needs to be more complex than that, Lieutenant."

Pratt gets a smirk from Lleufer and he replies low as the Admiral returns, well aware that Arpay ears can hear him. "There's a reason I'm a Jarhead and enlisted, Lieutenant, and not sitting in Major Gray's chair." Idly he scratches one of the scars around his wrists. The Marine's amusement extends to the Admiral when he returns. for his comments about fucking off. "Thank you, sir." Ynyr likes his strong and black, no sugar. "Unfortunately, I should be getting back to my duty station, Sirs. But, it is a pleasure to meet you, Admiral Fencer." Lleu gets up and looks to take his cup of coffee with him, gathering up his tray and empty tea glass in his other hand.

Pratt nods slowly at the Admiral, "And that much, Im good at, sir. I'll leave folks like the Colonel and the Admiral to figure the rest of it out." Ynyr talks about needing to go and the pilot straightens up and nods at the SSgt, "I ought to go get suited up soon anyway. Unless St. Clair got a while burr up her rump, I think I still am flying CAP for third shift." But with that said, he turns to the Admiral and asks, "How long are you on the Orion, sir? You're welcome to come down to the flight deck to ride on a CAP run if there's more you want to see first hand. Also a good way to get about 3 hours of peace and quiet where no one's going to bother you."

Fencer taps his chest twice to Lleu. "Good to meet you, Sergeant. Thank you for the time. I do appreciate it." And likely understands the MaA is needed elsewhere. Especially in duty gear. He holds his mug, though, and looks to Pratt. "I'm just here for a few hours. But I can tell you I wouldn't mind riding shotgun if you're offering. It'd help me see how you all do business. I'm sure my staff will throw fits but-" he chuckles "-perks of being an Admiral. They can't tell me what I can't do. Plan on it, Lieutenant."

Lleufer gives Pratt a look at mention of his fiance. "Major St. Clair and I aren't cleared for flying or combat duty yet. Not until first stage testing has been completed, sir." As his hands are both occupied, Ynyr can not return the light fist tap to his own heart until he sets down the tray. Then he does so, with direct eye contact. He understands it far better now than before, on more than one level. Haha, the CAG might shit a Rhino sideways and Lleufer wishes he could see the look on her face if the Arpay Admiral goes up, but alas, he has other places to be. So, the Ssgt departs to get back to his duty station.

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