AWD #632: Giving them Ammunition
Giving them Ammunition
Summary: Penta speaks to Toby in the brig. There's at least one big miscommunication, but overall things don't go too terribly.
Date: 15/03/2017
Related Logs: A Spirited Debate
Toby Penta 
Brig - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The battlestar's brig is comprised of a line of four individual cells organized in separate walled-off bays. Each cell is six feet wide by eight feet long and possesses a bed and toilet. Whenever even one cell is occupied, so too is the metal desk and chair at the entrance hatch — and backup for the guard is never far away. Brig rules are posted behind the desk on a white panel with blocked black lettering.
AWD #632

While the rest of the ship might be celebrating the ceasefire agreement, the mood in the brig is somewhat more subdued. With dinner having been served not long ago Toby is currently sat on his bunk just picking at his food in a distracted manner. He knows he should be celebrating, but his heart is just not in it apparently. Eventually though he just gives up, finishes the drink, then returns the tray to by the bars so it can be removed as and when the guard feels like it. Moving back to his bunk he picks up a book that someone has apparently dropped off for him, and sets his back to the wall so he can at least try to concentrate on reading it.

Penta nods to the guard at the desk, pre-empting a salute. With that, he walks from cell to cell. In most cases, he just looks in on the occupants, making sure they're OK - or at least not dead and conscious, since he doesn't go inside. But then he gets to Toby's cell. "I would leave you to reading, crewman, but Medical would be very angry at me if I didn't notice you aren't eating. I'll skip asking if things are OK, you aren't dumb and neither am I. So instead I'll ask what's up; Usually when someone refuses food, there's a reason past the obvious," he says softly.

The sound of footsteps is either ignored or unheard, but Penta's voice clearly addressing him does get Toby's attention. He doesn't bother sticking a finger in the book to keep his page, or folding a corner down, just closes it and sets it to one side. Clearly not the most gripping of reads. While he vaguely recognises Penta from around the ship he has to peer briefly at his collar to get an indication on how to address him. "Not refusing so much Ensign," he replies with a slow glance towards the tray, "just not hungry right now. I'll eat when I am."

Penta nods. "Fair enough," he concedes. "Just…yeah, do eat eventually, else the medics will insist we force nutrition. You want that even less than I want to order it." Pause. "So, this is your…fourth go-around?" Genuine confusion on Penta's face. "Do you find it somehow plushly comfortable here, or is there something I'm missing?"

Toby hasn't really been hungry all day, but nods in silent agreement that he will eat when his appetite returns. It's an easy concession to make, given he was planning to anyway. There's a frown at the next comment though, not a deep one, but he then follows it with a slow shake of his head. "Second, only my second." He eyes the younger man for a moment, as if considering something, then adds by way of explanation, "first when I hit someone for religious discrimination, and now for doing the same to a racist."

Penta nods slowly, clearly doing his best to measure his next words. "That isn't exactly the way I've heard it, sorry to say. You may only be on your second brigging, but that rather excludes all the other incidents you weren't brigged for, doesn't it?" Pause. "I'm not here to litigate the case, though. Trying to figure out, rather, how to put this to Command. If this ceasefire holds, after all, then folks with disciplinary records become a lot less affordable when we're trying to rebuild the Fleet. The question isn't really *if* something will be done, but what."

"That would add a couple more," Toby concedes easily enough, it's not like his record in that regard is much of a secret. There's perhaps the faintest of smiles at the remarks that follow though, not amusement or such, if anything perhaps relief. "I could make your life easier there Ensign. I only signed up to fight the cylons. If the war really is over, then drop me off on Piraeus next time we're in orbit and I'll be out of your hair for good. Sticking around to rebuild the fleet was never in my long term plans, just killing canners."

Penta smiles. "If it were *up* to me, I'd take that." Pause, and the smile disappears. "But it isn't. Essentially, your fate is going to be in Admiral Jameson's hands soon, if it hasn't been brought to him already. He makes the decision on whether to convene a general court-martial or not." Then, a thought. "Have you considered, Crewman? Essentially, every time you strike back against the bigots…You give them ammunition. Makes it very hard for those of us sympathetic to the notes of truth in your protest. You could be *absolutely* right, whether about events on Tauron or events here. Your reactions still make it impossible to give you any leeway. Makes you a terrible martyr for any cause, too, if that was your plan." Pause. "We'll deal with Sergeant Kapali, but right now, you've made yourself the more urgent issue. And you're, at best, running out of supporters, if you have any left."

What relief there might have been on Toby's features turns to a mix of concern and deep confusion. "What? Court-martial for a couple of punches?" Leaning forward off the wall he's looking seriously at Penta now, "that's an escalation isn't it? And the Admiral.. " whatever he was about to say dies off as he realises there's more to this then he understands and switches to simply out and out asking, "what’s going on?" There's then a shake of his head at the martyr comment and he answers, "martyrdom isn't my thing, rest assured. There's just some lines that shouldn't be crossed, somethings you can walk away from, and some that require an answer."

Penta looks at Toby. "You didn't realize? When you headbutted Sergeant Ynyr, that was assault on an MP in execution of his office. Max penalty is a dishonourable discharge, forfeiture of all pay and allowances, and confinement for 3 years. That's *if* they don't decide to make it a capital case because it's wartime." He doubts they would, but leaves that out for now.

"What?!" Toby exclaims, almost pushing himself to his feet as that's all explained. Clearly he didn't realise. Not in the slightest. Not that pays all that much use at the moment, what with the complete economic collapse, but that’s besides the point. Taking a moment to try and organise his thoughts he works to keep his breathing steady as mentally going from 'a few days in the brig' to 'potential execution' is a huge leap to have to take in one go. Eventually though he just slumps back against the wall by his bunk, he's even less hungry now and it's probably a good thing his stomach is mostly empty. Words though, he can't find any, and just flounders briefly before shaking his head and saying softly, "for a couple of punches.."

Penta nods, actually looking rather sadly and sympathetically at the older man, but saying nothing. "Nothing is final until they deliver the final charge sheet to you, either in terms of NJP or court-martial, but…I figured, informally, you were owed an explanation of the worst-case scenario."

Toby isn't entirely up for noticing the subtleties of facial expressions right now, he's still trying to come to terms with the bombshell that's just been dropped on him. One hand subconsciously comes up to rub over the sore spot on the back of his head and the he's turning back to Penta again. "Was there anything else?" It's not phrased as a 'frak off', but it's clear he's trying to gently drop this hint that he wants to be alone for a while, although before Penta has a chance to reply he adds, "actually, before that, can I ask a pair of favours? Little ones. I don't actually have a will, but.. well, I guess I probably should.. in case. So can I have paper and a pen? And.. and tell Ynyr, tell him I'm sorry."

Penta looks alarmed. "Whoa. First off, they're *very* unlikely to go for capital. It's possible but not likely, my apologies for not making that clearer. So, well, no need for a will yet, OK? The situation is not good for you, it's potentially available, but it's *very* unlikely, and I feel horrible for not making *that* clear." Pause. "As to apologies, I'll talk to Ynyr for you, yeah." Pause. "My apologies for freaking you out like that, I'll leave you be for now."

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