AWD #085: Mess in the Mess
Mess in the Mess
Summary: It's the morning after the brawl in the corridor and tensions continue to flare only this time all the action is human
Date: 01/04/2013
Related Logs: Mob Mentality
Sera Toby Maia Luc Morgan Iphigenia Jason 
Mess Hall, Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Crew Mess on the Orion 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.
AWD #85

Breakfast. They say it's the most important meal of the day. In Sera's opinion, that's because it includes her (first) morning cup of coffee, which she apparently hasn't had yet. This is evidenced largely by the fact that she's still yawning as she shuffles into the mess hall, her nearly perpetually grey-stained hand politely covering her mouth as she does so. This act is followed by her taking the absolutely shortest path possible to the food line, where the sweet, sweet coffee pots will be.

It's early-ish morning, an hour or so before shift change and thus time for those going on duty to grab their breakfasts. Not yet having changed into his coveralls, Toby has already made it to the coffee pots and is pouring himself a mug when he spots the PO1. Holding up a mug he glances to her and points at said mug with his free hand, silently asking if she wants one too and, by implication, what she wants in it with regards to milk and sugar. Bugger the scientist who's now waiting impatiently behind him for their own.

Sera peels her eyes up from the packets of instant oatmeal and the plastic containers of cereal, which will no doubt require powdered milk. (Blech.) With her nose still wrinkling at the thought, she shoots Toby an upnod of recognition and mouths the word "black" at him, clearly exaggerating the word. It's not like he'd hear her without her shouting over a bunch of people's heads and, this early in the morning, that's just cruel. There's still people trying not faceplant into their pancakes.

Toby nods his understanding and starts on Sera's coffee, ignoring the look he's now getting from the slowly growing backlog of souls who just want their frakking coffee. Once he's done he adds the second mug to his tray and steps away to allow the others access, heading back down the line so Sera can take the mug from his tray if she so desires. He gets a couple of odd looks as some spot the bruise thats appeared on his cheekbone, but no one yet seems to be asking about it.

"What the frak happened to your face?," Sera asks. 'Cause she's super-subtle like that sometimes. "Were you in that mess I heard about? I heard Alexios landed his tattooed ass in the brig, but just about everyone whisperin' about it doesn't have the slightest what all went on. I heard somebody got shot or somethin'. Was it that damned toaster? Did they finally corner him?" She sounds unabashedly hopeful, despite the fact that it really wouldn't make sense for them to brig somebody for taking down the mess hall shooter. A girl can dream, right?

One of those who woke early enough to catch breakfast, today is another training day. Wearing her off duties this time, Maia runs a weary hand over her face as she strides in towards the line to get some sort of food. Once in line, she opts for oatmeal and coffee. Yep, the same coffee that looks and smells a little off, always. Wake up juice. Turning, with her tray in hand, she looks for a place to sit.

Coming on from an early duty shift and already gotten in a quick shower is the ex himself. Luc makes his entrance and is quickly moving along the lines though heading not for the coffee but onwards to get some juice. Then his eyes does a dance around the mess hall as he searches for a place to sit.

"I walked into a locker that bears a striking resemblence to a toaster lover with an interllectual superiority complex," Toby replies, taking a quick glance down the line to make sure there aren't any MPs just standing around waiting for their breakfast, "he got the worst of it though." At the mention of a gun he tilts his head towards Maia, "not him no, and no one got shot. Frakkin' pilot over there draw though, 'gainst some of the lads on our swing shift. No shots though, just fists and yeah, Dio and the engineer thats humping the Toaster went at it hard. Toaster got hit too, but they dragged her off into the sickbay I think."

Oh look, an empty table. Maia walks over and deposits herself into the seat, placing her tray down with only a light clatter. Her seat choice happens to put herself right near Toby and Sera. If she overhears about the frakkin' pilot, she doesn't mention it, but she'll sit and unabashedly listen to the conversation, not inputting anything into it right now.

Both of Sera's dark brows arch upwards sharply, disappearing underneath the thick fringe of her bangs. "Garrdio? He's a piece of crap. Always has been, even before he started makin' googly eyes at an ambulatory microwave. If Alexios is stuck in the brig for takin' a swing at him, I hope he at least got as couple of shots in and knocked that frakker's teeth down his throat," she says with a derisive snort. Her eyes trail over to where he's pointing, eyeing Maia sidelong. "So why ain't she in the brig?," Sera asks quietly, as she finally opts for a plate of dried out pancakes and frozen sausage that's been microwaved en masse.

"Didn't see much of what happened with him," Toby admits, perhaps with a touch of regret, "but they were both going at each other." He pauses to think for a moment then shrugs, "don't recall seeing much blood on either side though. Only one I saw bleed was the frakking Toaster again." At the question about Maia he can only shrug again as he moves to keep pace with Sera's progress down the line, "likely slipped out before the reenforcements arrived, that or someone up there has decided that the entire Air WIng can get away with whatever the frak it wants and not just the damn Toasters."

Luc moves to join Maia as he spots her. Passing by the deckies at the words. "Pilot?" He asks but continues walking to take a seat. "Something happen? Or just the usual?" Just raising a brow and looking between all three of them. Though the last he hears from Toby makes him raise a brow. "Stop arguing already. If you are scared for toasters it only means you are worthless at not being able to defend yourself." Being cocky as usual.

And that's all the pilot needs to hear. "Probably the same reason that Toby here isn't in the brig too. Ran off before the MP's arrived. Well I'm going to go give my side of what happened and you bet your ass I'm requesting the Lieutenant Colonel be there." Pushing back her tray, she leaves it there and does an about face before storming out.

"Last I checked," she snaps at Luc, turning to eye the pilot with the sort of baleful glare that could strip paint right off a Viper, no turpentine involved. "Nobody was arguin' with you. In fact, last I checked, nobody was even talkin' to you. In fact, last I checked, we've still got three toasters aboard, an' one of them is runnin' around fully-armed, takin' down packs of pilots in the middle of everybody's lunch. So, since you so obviously know how to single-handedly take 'em down, why don't you do us all a favor, an' have a look-see. Maybe then you can play the big damned hero."

"Butt out of it dickwad," Toby replies to Luc, "who the frak was talking to you anyway? An' who the frak said I was scared anyway? I don't recall mentioning that." He starts to square off, a task made a little trickier with his tray in his hands but should it come to fists then that can at least be dropped at a moment's notice. "We ain't scared of the Toasters, we just want 'em off the frakking ship, via the airlock ideally. Enough Toaster Lovers onboard wrapped round their fingers, or dicks, to say we're not even frakking allowed to defend themselves."

Oh whoa. Luc can defend himself, but Maia hears something in there that she has to respond to. She turns back to face Toby. "You can call me what you want. I don't love the frakken toaster, I'm following direct orders. You have your opinion of things, but I should be free to have my own. If we agree to disagree then we can all just get along."

"And what right have you to make any claims to have done anything? You are talking to the pilots. At least pilots were wise enough to shot the frakker. Instead of hit and get in the way for more rounds to be fired." Luc offers with a shrug. Tilting his head. "You're not scared but you haven't really done anything, have you? I can give the the tray boy one thing. He has guts." Shrugging. "Have the toasters attacked you? Have you attacked them? If neither then stay out of it. Can't say I trust the toasters to keep kind all the time. But creating chaos only means that they win anyhow. Nor do I trust command. But rather than fists and feet flying, do something more intelligent about it." Shrugging a bit at that. Glancing over to Maia. "Careful with following orders. Last time we followed orders Linden got blown up because he thought it was a good idea to train in an unstable astroid field." Then eyes goes back to Toby and it is only now that any malice or anger shows. "And don't talk bad about Cara." Not like they would know who that is. Unless they have heard him say it.

"An' how the frak would you know what's in my service record or not, hotshot? How would you know what's in Shackleton's jacket, huh? Yeah, I been shot at by the toasters. An' yeah, I've fired back. An' yeah, I disarmed a damned nuclear reactor while under fire before those things could use it to take out a heavy cruiser. But you don't see me struttin' around the mess hall, buttin' into every conversation, runnin' my mouth off at anyone who'll listen like they owe me somethin'. So shove off," Sera says, tilting her head up at Luc, her jaw jutting out. "Just 'cause somebody put some pins on your collar."

"An' you were ordered to pull your frakking gun on unarmed deckies?" Toby relies incredulously, "get your head outta your arse, cos now you're just talking shit now." There's definite tension in his shoulders now as he leans to set his tray down on the cloest table, only taking his eyes off the pilots for the briefest of moments. "What the frak do you know about what I have or haven't done?" he retorts, getting really pissed now, "go ask Col Spree how many Toasters I've shot without the help of any jumped up frakking gloryboys or full on frakking frakheads like you. Case you didn't notice we don't carry guns, we couldn't shoot him back, so we did what we could to stop pilots from dying. For which you are frakking welcome by the way." He' shouting now and steps forward to give the guy a good hard shove backwards, one hand to each of his shoulders, "you heard PO, shove off."

"The situation was out of hand. You may call it a fair fight but it was far from that. I don't give one frak about any skinjob, toaster, cylon, centurion, whatever the hell you're calling them today. I do care when people are drawing lines that don't need to be drawn. You're just helping to segregate the ship into sides that don't exist. Everyone here minus the killer is on the same team, otherwise why would the shooter try and kill Ceres? Think about it, she must pose a threat to /them/ and anything that poses a threat to the enemy is a bonus for us." Maia looks mostly at Toby, but her gaze flickers over Luc and Sera.

Luc sighs and shakes his head. "I was talking about firing at the idiot that was in the mess hall. All of us have shot toasters in the past. I am talking about those on the ship. Else I could go blaming you for almost getting my head blow off by other humans as well. And blame those on you." Rising to his feet. "Who is running their mouth? I saw you going along cursing at pilots for no apparent reason." As for the pulled gun, he raises a brow. "Were you being aggressive? If so then she has a right to pull a gun, yes." Just sighing as they combine all the cylons into one. Not making more comments on that though. "I didn't ask for your help, did I? And you went to help stop a wound. I was talking about the tray boy who had guts but no brain." As Toby grabs his shoulders, he sighs. "Hands off, boyo. We don't need more spilled blood. As I said. Get brains, not brawns." He offers and tries to shrug the man off of him. Listening to Maia as well. "And she is right. Get the murderer before anything. Else he will make a run for it while we send each other to the hospital." His hands are clenched though. As is his jaw. Just waiting for him to make the first move.

"This ain't Tauron," Sera says to Toby, sharply. It's a harsh, sudden reminder of exactly who this woman is on deck — someone with absolutely no tolerance whatsoever for bull. "Take your tray an' sit your ass down. NOW." There's a hand that clamps down on his shoulder as she says it, squeezing hard. For someone so small, she's surprisingly strong. It's gotta be her job. "As for you," she says, jabbing a finger towards Luc's face. "Keep runnin' your mouth. Keeping changin' your story to whatever best fits your ego. You don't want help from the deck? Fine. The next time some toaster pulls one on you, I'm sure Shackleton an' Alexios an' all the rest will be happy to just crawl under a table an' do nothin', since that's what you think. An' you can bet your ass that if you or anyone else on this ship pulls a gun on one of my people, for any reason, I'll rat you out myself in a heartbeat. Now back off, before I let him take a crack at you. You deserve it."

A general murmur is beginning among the other diners in the mess hall regarding the hot topic of the month - Cylons. The shouting is loud enough to escape from the four walls and echo in the hallway when Morgan steps into the room. "Lovely," he mutters. "No rest for the wicked, or the weary." He takes a deep breath and bellows, "Atten-HUT!" knowing that even when emotions are flaring, that single order can be enough to bring quiet to a situation. However, to be safe, he also rests his hand on the baton (aka nightstick) secured on his leather belt.

"Or maybe the Marines haven't found him yet cos he's another one of Command's pets and went after your pet because It know It was betraying us? Can't tell with these Toasters and sure as frakking hell we're not getting told everything we need to know." Attempting to haul Luc up he continues, getting up into the pilot's face, "in case you didn't notice, shitforbrains, we don't carry, that's you and the frakking marines. As I already said, if you'd been frakking listening, we couldn't shoot back. Could not. What frakking part of that is too difficult for that skull of yours eh?" The hand from Sera does it's just though and, after shoving the pilot down in his seat a moment he takes a step back, still glaring daggers at the man before he starts to turn towards where he left his tray, jaw now very firmly clenched. He's just collecting it to move off when there comes that call from the door and he stops, he may not have been long in the military, but he knows what that means and responds appropriately.

The words between Luc and Sera and Toby have gotten out of hand. "Just frakkin' stop it. The four of us are humans, we're on the same side here. When Toby pushes Luc down into his seat, she moves to stand in front of Toby. "You just need to cool your temper there, cowboy, you're not helping matters." When she hears the call to attention, Maia looks back. Frak. Turning to face the MP, she stands at attention staring stonily ahead.

There are a few choice words muttered under her breath at the arrival of the MP, although they mostly seemed directed at Luc, not the Marine. Sera's jaw sets and she shifts into attention, or tries to. It's not particularly easy, considering the fact that she's still balancing her breakfast tray in one hand.

Luc rolls his eyes at Sera's words. "Well, good. I am not asking you to shoot. I was asking you not to stand in the way of the line of fire. You at least tried to stop someone's bleeding." It was Ceres' but that doesn't belong to the point. So he does not mention it. "I never asked you to shoot back. But keeping out of the line of fire and maybe we would have got him." AS for Sera's continue words, he just chuckles. "I would prefer that over almost shooting him." As Toby tries shoving him down, he just sweeps his arms over his to keep him from getting him down. Losing his balance a little though. "As I said, hands off!" He offers before he hears Morgan, followed by Maia. Standing at attention as he arrives. "Sir." At least not going down to his seat. So… At least one battle won. Sort of.

For all of her attempts to be virtuous, Iphigenia Arden does not find much virtue in morning sometimes. It is generally an interruption between night and afternoon when one is best left to sleep. But morning prayer is a Thing, and so she was up early, and now finally free for breakfast.

Morgan draws a slow breath while he looks around the room at the people, including the kitchen staff behind the serving counter, who have obeyed his order and come to full attention. He nods. "At ease," he commands, and then walks slowly toward Luc, Toby, Maia, and Sera. He studies one after the other. "Report," he dictates. "And make it quick so that you can resume your … mess." He nods to the freshly served trays waiting.

Sera says, "Recruit Shackleton an' I were standin' in line havin' a conversation about recent events, when Lieutenant Junior Grade Raynor interrupted us. Despite bein' asked to leave repeatedly, he instead elected to take several shots at both Shackleton's record an' mine, includin' Shackleton's usefulness an' ability to defend himself. He was again asked to leave us be, repeatedly. He elected not to, an' Shackleton became understandably agitated at Lieutenat Junior Grade Raynor's behavior. I attemptin' to disrupt them before it came to blows, sir," Sera says crisply and quickly, with the sort of tone usually reserved for sitreps she offers the Chief.

Toby shifts into the 'at ease' stance but there's not much about him that could be classed as relaxed. He keeps his mouth firmly shut though as the MP approaches and watching him instead of Luc to make it easier to resist smearing the pilot's nose all over the decking. He's just about to open his mouth to reply when Sera comprehensively beats him to it and so he simply glances to her for a moment then nods back to Morgan, backing up her version of events.

When the MP strolls over, Maia keeps her same stony expression even as she moves to at ease position, but she does offer her own short interruption. "I would like to give you a deposition, Sir, about the happening in the corridor yesterday. I was present. However I would like to give it in the presence of Lieutenant Colonel Petra." As for the happenings just now, she inputs nothing.

The line is being held up, and Gen really needs some coffee and eggs and bacon. She blinks owlishly and tilts her body so she can see beyond the line to whatever's happening further down. "Lieutenant," she calls out to Morgan, "Is there anything I can assist with?"

Luc shrugs, "The deckies were talking smack about the air wing, and one of the raptors, Lieutenant junior grade Maia Kane. So they were not just speaking about events as much as laying blame." He offers his own view. "They told me to stay out of it while continuing to harrass folk of the air wing with their talk. I stated some facts from the shooting. Such as one running up and standing in the way between gunfire and an armed assailant. And that the recruit here helped a pilot's bleeding. While I did not see anyone else doing anything anyhow." Taking a moment to breathe he then shrugs, "Then the recruit tried putting his hands on me. I shook him off. Nothing happened and I would rather see him stay his position at the decks. Meaning I would still trust him with my viper." Hey, might at least try and prove that he trusts them where they should be. In the decks. Unseen. But doing work.

Morgan looks from face to face and nods slightly to each person. "Anyone else?" he questions. When the captain offers to assist, he glances to her and frowns. "I'm not sure yet." Looking to Luc, he says, "If you wish to file charges of assaulting an officer, we can do that. I'll need depositions from everyone here." Then he shifts to Maia and ncos. "If you wish, I'll ask the colonel about his schedule and see what we can do. Thank you, lieutenant."

One brow hikes up sharply at Morgan's comment. In fact, it hikes up so far it actually does disappear underneath the fringe of Sera's dark bangs, instead of simply threatening to. She looks like she just took a swallow of milk about a full week past it's expiration date, but she says absolutely nothing.

Toby glances briefly to Maia as she mentions a deposition regarding the incident the day before then quickly returns his attention to Morgan and shakes his head shortly, still not entirely trusting himself to actually open his mouth without saying something stupid. His expression though shows quite clearly what he thinks about the idea of Luc filing such a charge and both jaw and fists clench again. He keeps it under control though, following Sera's lead.

When the chaplain goes unanswered, she shrugs, and resumes her place in line. "You're holding up the chow." she calls out her prim, aristocratic Virgon accent. Because that's the kind of accent one expects when hearing 'you're holding up the chow'.

Maia may be a lot of things and have an opinion about matters she isn't afraid to voice, as seen from recent events, but one thing she isn't.. With a quick flick of her eyes to Toby, she tries to offer her reassurances that she isn't a narc. To reinforce it, she looks back at Morgan. "Yes, I figure I have to give on since the toaster mentioned my name in the sickbay yesterday. I'll tell my side of things, what I saw. The faces of the instigators weren't altogether familiar to me, so I wouldn't be able to point them out." That said, she closes her mouth and grits her teeth together.

Luc grins and shakes his head. "Nope. All good. If they promise to behave." Glancing over to them with a smirk. Even as hands are still clenched. "We need our deckies. I just prefer them where they belong instead of talking smack about pilot business. We are dealing with our issues. We don't need a riot." Sighing loudly and waving off a hand. "We are all just frustrated." He admits and runs a hand through his hair before reaching it out to the recruit. "All good? We can even go a round in the fitness center if you think you can take me."

Morgan nods again. "Then, for I will need the answer from Lt. Raynar about the charge." He steps back and waves to the person after their little quilting club. "I won't ask everyone else to wait. I came for some food, too."

For one brief second, Sera just stares at Luc. The expression on her face is one she does not wear often. In fact, she looks like she's about to wipe that smile right off his face — by cracking him in the mouth with her lunch tray, cold pancakes and all. And then her jaw sets, and a slight tic appears. She opens her mouth to say something, gives a sidelong glance to Morgan, and soon snaps her mouth shut.

Toby positively boils at Luc's comments, fists that were already clenched clench tighter, his nostrils start to flare and his jaw grinds back a little. There's murder in his eyes, plain and simple as he squares back up to the pilot looking to all intents and purposes that he's about to knock the man into the middle of next week. There's something though that holds him back at the last, it might be Sera's words from before, it might be Morgan's presence, he isn't sure himself, but the punch never flies and after a few deep, silent breaths he forces his muscles to relax again, even if just a bit.

Having just gotten off duty, Jason is still in his flight suit as he steps into the mess hall, heading for the food line now. Expression quite neutral as he glances around the room very briefly, then focuses back on the food line.

Oh, that is quite enough of that. Iphigenia steps out of line, moving up to the klatch, because really, who's going to tell a priestess she can't have her place back in line. As she approaches, she addresses Morgan first. "Lieutenant. A moment." she looks then, to Luc. "Lieutenant Raynor." Her tone is clipped when she addresses him.

Now would be a good time to separate herself from the happenings. "May I be excused, sir?" Things are getting more volatile with each play of words from Luc and she casts him a warning glare. "Know when to stop, Luc. It was about twenty minutes ago." With a sigh, she looks back at Morgan then the Chaplain.

Luc shakes his head once more to Morgan as he answers the question about filing a charge, "No sir. I do not wish to file a charge." Then looking over at Iphigenia at her words, raising a brow and stepping over. "Captain." He says in a neutral voice. Missing the looks from the deckies currently. IT does look like he might be ignoring them for the moment. Maia's words sinking in but he does only keep his eyes on the captain for now.

"Lieutenant Raynor," Iphigenia says again, and her voice is, well, pretty frosty, but civil. "It is not your responsibility to police the words or actions of the deckhands. You are not part of their chain of command, and if you have a problem with something they do or say, then the correct action is to report it to the deck chief, who handle it as he sees fit. And I don't want to ever hear you speak about the deckhands or any other enlisted as you just did, as if they were children who need to behave. I suggest you develop a more healthy respect for the people who are responsible for keeping your viper in good working order. Have I made myself clear?" She holds up a hand, "The only words I expect to hear out of your mouth at this juncture are yes sir."

Morgan looks to Luc and shakes his head. He listens to the chaplain's comments, and nods firmly. His gaze slides momentarily to Toby and Sera. "Very good, lieutenant," he says to Luc. "These people are not the enemy. They are your allies who will keep your bird in the air," he adds, speaking quietly. "However, if there is continuing friction between the departments, we might need to arrange for some inter-department competition, like a Pyramid tournament, to channel that frustration into useful activities."

"It would be good if people could keep politics, fights and arguments away from the food line. Some of us are in need of getting the food while they're still awake, you know?" The words come a bit quietly, but with a bit irritation as Jason looks to the happenings now. And yes, he seems a bit tired as he looks around the room. "Just a suggestion, of course, but it's supposed to be a good one." Might not be the right thing to say, but it would seem he's past the point of caring about that now.

"Sir," Sera says, her facade of calm betrayed only by the slight tic which continues unabated in her cheek. She turns to Morgan as she adds, "There is no issue of "competition" between the departments. I feel I should inform you that the "smack" which Lieutenant Raynor claims that Shackleton an' I were discussin' was me askin' what he'd heard about the rumors of the altercation last night. Specifically, the claims that a pilot had pulled a loaded pistol on several crew members, some of whom report in to me an' whose continued well-bein' I have every right to be concerned with. I wasn't there, but I've heard varyin' rumors, an' wanted to know if there was a continued threat posed to members of my work crew."

Toby fumes, silently. Although he does manage to relax a little more once Luc moves to talk to the chaplin. Backing up a step or so he moves back alongside Sera, rolling his shoulders a little to release a fraction of the tension still evident. He's momentarily unsure of where to look but then Jason's words solve that problem and he flicks his eyes towards the latest pilot to enter. There's the faintest of growls in the back of his throat and his jaw clenches a little again but Sera's words drag his attention back to those immediately surrounding him. He offers another brief nod to confirm her statement and this time manages a somewhat gruff, "aye Sir, that was it." He's not going to expand on that though, a large amount of his concentration still taken up with restricting the urge to hurt Luc to the odd muscle twitch.

When her request goes unanswered, Maia just regards the happenings with stony silence until it looks like things are winding down. "May I be excused?" The request given again. "I will report for the deposition as soon as Lieutenant Colonel Petra is available."

Luc shrugs, "I responded with the same behaviour as they responded to me. Difference being that I did not put hands or threaten them. They insulted Centerfold and they insulted several others. I responded in the same manner and they took to shoving me." He explains his own point of view. Turning to look over to Sera he nods, "And also insinuating that air wing can do whatever they want without consequence. More or less speaking behind our backs instead of saying it to our faces." Shrugging once more. "As I said. Sorry." He did even offer a hand earlier after all.

Iphigenia's eyebrow ever so slowly until it hit her hairline, as Luc basically says everything but 'Yes, sir.'. "Lieutenant Morgan." Iphigenia's tone is calm, like she's about to invite the MP to tea. "Escort Lieutenant Raynor out of the mess. He may return when he remembers how to properly address his superiors and respond accordingly. Lieutenant Kane, you are excused."

Morgan nods to Sera. "I arrived soon after the incident started," he admits. "Things settled quickly and I don't think that any technicians were hurt seriously enough to earn a ticket to the sickbay." Then he glances from her to Toby, and he explains, "I don't need help from your area often, but I for one appreciate what your people do. We're in this together. As for the competition, I'm referring to the apparent competition to see who can send the most people to the sickbay. We don't need that. We need healthy ways for people to vent frustrations." He glances to the chaplain, who is now asserting the proper authority that she has as captain, and nods sharply. "Aye, sir!" he answers. His hand again moves to the baton on his belt and he looks to Luc. "Lieutenant, follow me," he orders.

Needing no further permissions granted to being able to leave, Maia gives those present an apologetic look before doing a left face and heading back out of the mess hall, not long after the MP and Viper.

Seeing and listening to what's being said, Jason moves further to get hold of his food, shaking his head a little bit. "Frakking idiots every single one…" he growls to himself, not looking to any of the others at the moment. Expression kept a neutral as he can for now.

Luc shrugs, "I am still allowed to give my testimony, sir." He offers to Iphigenia. With a glance to Morgan. "I am going. No stress." Offering a wave as he heads on out. "As I said, the spar is still up if you want. Or a swim." He tells both Toby and Sera, with a glance to both. Then back to Morgan. "So… Do you know any good exercising tips? I mean all you marines always look so buff."

Iphigenia looks tired, and a little incredulous. "Lieutenant Morgan, escort Lieutenant Raynor to the brig. He can cool his heels there until he remembers he's a member of the Colonial Fleet." Her gaze slides over to Jason, but she says nothing.

At this point, Sera wraps her arms around her tray, holding it steady. She no longer needs to be at attention and no longer looks like she's considering swinging it at Luc's head, so she may as well be a little bit more comfortable. Luc's comment regarding a spar or a swim is met with the sort of indifferent stare usually reserved for the lunch line's meatloaf. "If you need any further further testimony regardin' this mornin's little kerfuffle, Lieutenant Morgan, please let me know. I have some lingerin' concerns myself about the matter. An' unless I'm mistaken, we may also need to have a discussion about increased security on that project of mine, given our current circumstances."

Toby's internal monologue is currently running along the lines of 'breathe in, breathe out, don't thump the pilot, breathe in..' and as such it he doesn't follow the exact words the Chaplin utters but does get the jist, especially as Morgan makes his move. He is relaxing, slowly, although his eyes do burrow into Luc's back as he starts to leave. It's likely that the first part of his shift is not going to be entirely productive as there's no time left now to go vent properly before hand but atleast he should get the chance to actually eat his breakfast. On that thought he breaks his attention away from those departing and glances back to his tray and the mug of coffee that accompanies it. Another deep breath and he unclenches his jaw again, turning to Sera and gesturing in the vague direction of his drink he asks, "want a fresh one?" Hearing the comment about the brig he's tempted to turn and watch once more but manages to keep his attention on Sera, waiting for her reply with regards to the coffee.

Morgan nods to the captain and then looks at Luc. "We can talk about exercise regimens later, if you still want that. For now, you'll come quietly, Lieutenant." Then he shifts his attention to Sera and nods to her. "Once I've finished why this, and a few other matters of my own, P.O., I'll be glad to meet with you. Where will I find you?"

"Yeah, understood. Captain." Luc offers to Geni before looking to Morgan. "Go ahead. Lead the way, lieutenant." He offers and just smirks still. Leaning in to speak quieter to Morgan as they leave.

Jason makes his way over to get some of the food, very little, especially given his words about needing food earlier. Looking back at the others, his eyes narrow for a few moments as his gaze moves over Toby, before he moves to find himself a place to sit, dropping his tray down on the table a bit too hard now. And then dropping himself into his seat a bit heavily.

"On deck, sir," Sera replies to Morgan before answering Toby. There's a difference, after all, between an officer discussing professional affairs and a fellow knuckledragger asking her if she wants a cup of coffee. "I haven't missed a shift in eleven years." And then, with that, she nods to Toby and mouths "please". See? She doesn't entirely lack manners.

Toby gives Sera a brief nod in acknowledgement at the response and turns to go and get the fresh brews, leaving his tray where it is for now as it's as good a place to sit and eat as any other. It seems though that doing something else is helpful as by the time he returns he no longer looks ready to murder anything bar the breakfast that's been waiting for him all this time.

Now that things are calmer, Gen gets back in her place in line. Coffee. Eggs. Bacon. Sanity can be restored!

How do MPs stay in shape? They miss meals in the mess hall because trouble always seems to erupt there and they need to intervene. So Morgan once again leaves without his holy grail, escorting Luc to the brig instead and facing the paperwork that inevitably follows.

Stabbing at his food for a few moments, Jason shakes his head a little bit. "This is what they call food these days… I'm very glad I'm not a chef…" he mutters to himself, before he starts eating from the food now, a bit slowly.

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