AWD #016: Following Orders
Following Orders
Summary: Beckett reminds Afton where she is needed.
Date: 23/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: In response to Afton's last few poses from The Devil in Dress Blues
Afton Beckett 
Battalion HQ
The headquarters of Third Battalion, Eighth Marines is the primary command location for all Marines associated with Task Force NOMAD. The walls and desks are covered with maps, photos, and satellite imagery. Secure phones are bolted to each bulkhead, and for added insurance, each desk possesses its own encrypted wireless unit with its own independent wiring. The small room is always manned by a wireless operator and a duty sergeant, though it tends to explode with activity during duty hours.
AWD #16

Shortly after they've had time to return armor and weapons to the Armory, Beckett has moved into the HQ, still dressed in his combat fatigues from being on the ground. There's a frown given to his face, before he is pulling out a map of Picon, followed by drawing out a few pages of paper. His own hand writing is not sloppy, but then again it isn't exactly neat either. With the pen scratching away-the Major waits for the PO to show herself.

Firearms checked back in and her gear stowed, she is wearing her uniform when she steps into the threshold and waits there, going to full attention and saluting him. "Sir. You asked for me." She states, looking past him to the far wall as she waits to be addressed and let in. She eases just a little.

Beckett is silent for a moment, while he writes. Though eyes do flick up and the pen is set down. A cough, and he brings his hand up finally to return the salute. Only then does he motion to a seat before his desk. "Sit Down." an order really. Still Beckett doesn't explain anything-he merely points and waits for the Petty Officer to oblidge.

Easing out of attention, Afton moves to find a seat and sets herself down obediently. Her eyes look to what he is doing, then himself but she stays utterly quiet. No need for her to speak, not yet.

There's a pause before he brings his hand up to rub at his mouth, but still Cyrus doesn't break eye contact. "You know.." he says softly, finally. "I should have you thrown in the brig, or at worst shot." His voice soft, a tremor of anger there. "I saw you with your godsdamned hand on your gun, when you were telling the DCAG you were going to stay..I saw it there when you frakkin' protested an order!" his voice rising there. "WHat the hell were you thinking PO?"

Sitting a bit more upright, Afton stares at the map he's looking at before meeting his eyes. "Sir, I would never shoot anyone." Her voice exhales and she considers a moment. "There were children sir, injured. I could have made a difference amongst the injured, sir. And someone needed to stay. I wanted to stay." She tightens her jaw a moment and then relaxes, easing some as something passes through her.

"No shit, St. James." Cyrus says as he leans back into his chair. "You know something, this here war? This big shit we've found ourselves in. We're going to see dead children and wounded people. People who never frakkin' deserved what the Tin Cans have given them. And there are going to be times you are asked to be in a place where you will be confronted with the mission at hand, and a wounded child. " he says, after a moment. "In that time? You need to do your mission and move on. No if's ands or frakkin' buts."

"Sir, yes sir." Afton says stiffly, but manages to keep the under current of her tone light. "My mission was no different from the man that was left behind. I realize that I am thought to be too vital to Orion, but I was more vital there, sir." Her eyes lift to him again and she then lets out a breath. "I will take brig for my actions, sir. If that is what you wish. You can yell at me all you want for nearly disobeying and I will take but we both know that I could have done good there, sir."

There's that same stare that he gave her earlier "You do realize that when Major Shepherd said, you were to get your ass back on the boat, that means that you don't say anything else. And when I had to reinforce it? That should not have been a step that was needed to have taken. And Don't even bring up what that Marine did." he says with a shout. " That Marine made it possible for you to be back here-And to keep those passengers alive if for some reason our little ride went to shit. You ever think about that?"

And there he leans back. "I am not going to put you in the brig without cause, godsdamnit Afton.." he rolls out. "We could all do a lot of good down there. But IN weighing a SpecOps enlisted over a Private that signed on before tour?" and he holds his breath. "We might not ever go back. Yeah-you coulda done good, but you would have died, and we might have need of you later."

"You might, sir. FOrgive me for saying so but I was trained for what they needed down there." Afton looks to the map again and then lets out a breath. "I understand the planning for the future. I get it…but the immediate need. Frak, Cyrus." She says his name. Her hand clamps on the chair and she closes her eyes tightly. "Is there anything else sir?" Her voice is lower, softer.

"Shut the hell up." Cyrus states before he is looking back to her. "WE might. Because this is not something as easy as deciding what color panties to frakkin' wear. This is which life to I save now. Which future to I look to." And there he holds his mouth shut. "I can't do the immediate need. We don't have the luxury." he says before he watches her for a second. "Nothing.." he says with his hand combing through his hair. "Nothing."

Pushing herself up from her chair, she hesitates and walks over towards him. "I understand why I am here and not there, I get it. But it doesn't make it any less sore for me, sir. I apologize for my reaction, I saw those children doing things that they should never have to. THey were taking care of dying loved ones. That is my job, not their's." Green eyes focus on his and the PO breathes out, "I follow orders, I always have. Permission to be dismissed, sir." She starts to traighten up to salute.

"Right now, Afton?" Beckett says with a look towards her. "It's what we all have to do. It's all of our jobs.." and then he raises a hand, and lowers it. Not so much a salute. "Don't" he says before his hand moves to his temple. "You've got it." the permission that is.

Hesitating, Afton nods and then lets out a breath. "Aye, sir." She intones. Pushing away from the table, she pushes her braid back over her shoulder and rubs at her neck, adjusting her dogtags. The PO leaves the officer, slipping out the hatch.

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