AWD #604: Practicing Aim

Doctor Nadir and Corporal Anderson practice their aim on the firing range in more than one way…

AWD #604: Practicing Aim
Summary: Doctor Nadir and Corporal Anderson practice their aim on the firing range in more than one way. Both get some practice with sidearms as well as debate, and they are joined by Ensign Penta.
Date: Wed 15/Feb/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Gray Penta Samtara 
Firing Range
With ten different bays, the firing range can accommodate quite a few shooters with about two dozen spectators or trainees behind them. At 25 yards, the targets can be brought forward or pushed back up to the stops before the inclined plating designed to deflect rounds up. The lighting can be dimmed down to nothing for use with night vision or flashlights, also. A large sign overhead denotes the requirement of both eye and ear protection, as well as the prohibition of all ammunition except rubber or frangible. However, there are no firearms stored here. All firearms and ammunition must be checked out from the Marine Armory in the Security Hub.
Sat 02/Sep/2006

Wearing the Arpay sidearm in holster over her left to allow for a cross draw, Sam is standing at the end of one of one of the firing lanes with a new paper on the target and practicing, what seems like endlessly, practicing drawing and firing. The sound of single shots ring out again and again, working the muscle memory to aim true each time.

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success. - <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. - <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Failure.

Gray appears in the firing range. He doesn't have the limp to match his leg injury (and the gods only know where he might be in the queue for Arpay treatment) but he's basically been sidelined, put in for a transfer, and so on. Yet none of that would seem to have excused him from either making sure he stays current on his shooting skills…or wanting to make sure he knows how to handle the Arpay metal in the event he gets stuck in the field with it. So in he comes to the range, putting his earpro on.

"Don't drop the shoulder, don't aim to high, don't rush the shot," Sam is saying to herself in a low voice after the last shot pinged the very edge of the paper instead of hitting in any of the target rings. She reholsters the weapon after the fourth shot and waits a beat, flexing both hands, slowly drawing in a breath, holding it, then exhaling it again before she deliberately makes the tense set of her shoulders ease and draws again, four more shots ring out, each paced just as the previous four. She senses the motion as much as hears the arrival of another person in the firing range and only turns after she's returned the Arpay sidearm to it's holster at her side, aims a nod at Gray before narrowing her eyes at the target again.

Gray hears Sam's comments to herself and nods to her. "Major Nadir. Good to see you when I'm /not/ in bed." He immediately winces at having put his foot in his mouth, as he usually seems to, and shakes his head. "Not down with an injury." Beat. "Any advice on the Arpay sidearms? It's my first time using this model."

"Like Colonial side arms, they're a point and fire mechanism, with the augmented or maybe the word is expanded bullet capacity, it's still a point and pull the trigger working," Sam replies as she holds off on firing again while answering Gray's question. "And it's always good to see my patients up and about again, not still bed bound. You do have an odd turn of the phrase," she adds with a half curve and slightly surprised sort of smile.

Gray smiles back somewhat mischeviously. "Ma'am, that is far from the deepest I've put my foot in my mouth. And…thank you." With that, he carefully pucks the handgun up, points, and fires several shots at the target downrange. Four shots later he's frowning slightly at his effect on the target but making a note of /how/ and /where/ he missed. "Ok, not /that/ different…but /just/ enough."

"Interesting, but somehow I'm quite certain your assessment of your conversational skills is entirely apt," Sam replies with a breath that turns into a laugh. "And for not getting offended? You're quite welcome. A rather large number of people need to remember that conversation is just the shaping of air as modified by the lips, teeth and tongue. It's just noise. Words can be very annoying, if not infuriating at times, it's still the action that accompanies or results from the words that is more important. Feel free to shove your foot in your mouth, as needed," she offers with a shrug and turns back to the target and works the angle again for another series of shots.

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Failure. - <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. - <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Gray glances over at Major Nadir's target and notices… "Your shooting is very consistent." His is…not, but at least this time he manages to get the four shots grouped sort-of in the same place as he gets a better feel for handling the gun's kick. "Thank you for the permission…I'll be sure to take full advantage of it."

"Consistently unacceptable," Sam clarifies as she frowns at the target and flexes both hands again. She replays Gray's words in her head then laughs. "I'm sure you will," she decides after a moment of consideration and aims another half smile at Gray before turning back to the target. "There is something to be said about having the ability to shove both feet into your mouth, metaphorically speaking, and gnawing upon your own ankles. I'm not sure it's a good thing that's said, but there IS something to be said," taking aim again after she says this and continuing practice. "200 rounds per day is a very significant time sink," in an almost resigned tone of voice but she has a goal. Goals are very important.

Gray nods, doing another volley. This time he's perhaps a bit closer to the center of the target, but less well grouped. Sigh. "200 rounds per day?" Beat. "Why so much? It's almost like you want to be a Doctor."

Making a mildly surprised sort of sound, Sam waits a moment, eyes slightly narrowed, considering every step she just took to make that last shot actually hit the target ring and not miss. "Muscle memory," she answers, tone slightly distracted, the frown on her face very intent as she flexes her right hand again. "I am a doctor, surgeon, to be specific, but a doctor all the same. I'm going to be spending a year on the ground on one of the worlds that the Arpay were not able to convince to evacuate ahead of the machines that they're fighting. I have to be able to adequately defend myself."

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success. - <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Failure. - <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Success. - <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Great Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success. - <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Gray looks surprised at that particular announcement. "Oh?" Focusing downrange, he takes another set of four shots and roughly groups them towards the center of the target. He looks pleased with the result, even if he's not exactly convinced he'll be able to replicate it for the time being. "There is something I wanted to mention to you. You've been working with the Arpay medical technology, right?"

Making a sound that is annoyed and disappointed at the same time, Sam checks the count again before she'll continue. "Something important or allegorical?" Sam wonders as she glances sidelong toward Gray and back again. "Yes, I have been. The first round of elective surgeries were a success well beyond expectations."

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.

<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Great Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Great Success.

Gray fires off another volley, this time doing a pretty good job of putting holes in the center of the toaster on the target. With the right bullets, a Cylon on the recieving end might even notice the shots hitting it! "Something I feel is important." Deep breath. "Were you aware that prior to being attacked by the Machines, the Piraeans…" He's sticking with that term for now; there are too many names that have been switched up on him over the last few months. "…were working on adapting resurrection technology for use on humans?"

"Barely a 78% success rate, but that's still unacceptable," Sam remarks with that same sound of annoyance and ejects the empty mag, checks to confirm it's empty, then the weapon, then swaps out the mag for a new one from the bucket she has with her. Literally, bucket. 200 rounds isn't just toss a few mags into her pockets and call it good. "Really? Where did you learn this?" She snaps everything into place then aims at a fresh target once it's in place down the lane.

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.

<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.

"When I was able to review the data on The Box. I made notes of it…" Gray sighs. "There wasn't a lot of technical data available on the surface and I wasn't about to go poking, but it said that they had resurrection tech then and wanted to use it for life extension." Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Gray looks over at Sam's target again…they both do seem to be improving.

"Wanted to, or did?" Sam wonders after she takes the first five shots from the mag, waits out his four shots, then sights again and takes the next five, determined to get through the clip in a timely manner. <r>

<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.

"It's not clear." Gray admits, changing the magazine on his gun. "I'd have to check my notes. When I asked them, the survivors of the Piraean SpecOps who were detailed to us confirmed that research was ongoing. It isn't clear how far they got before the Machines took them out." Sigh. "However, the fact that I fought alongside four soldiers who died 3000 years ago and /remembered/ dying suggests they made some headway."

"Serenity, Strength, Wisdom," Sam replies after a quiet moment staring down range. "You know that saying? Serenity to accept that which cannot be changed, strength to change that which can, and the wisdom to know the difference? Practically everything I am learning about the Piraean people and their medical and scientific advances, let alone their military defeat and eventual extinction falls into one of those categories. I would imagine that news being news, if it was made open news that it would have been a talked about thing, a common bit of casual conversation to be chewed on by the general public. If it were something We were working on, it'd be a publicly traded company and in the news. That is, if we weren't at war. So working on/planning to isn't quite the same as 'accomplished and in the first rounds of beta testing'."

<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Amazing Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Gray nods to Sam as she says that. "Like I said, it's not clear how far along they were. Whether they /had/ the tech but couldn't scale it up fast enough for their war, whether they were close, or whether they were just taking a stab in the dark." Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. One shot nails the exact center of the target, with two others grouped right by it. "But I'd take the presence of those four as evidence…" Rebuttable, granted. "…that they were at least to beta testing. Even if they didn't know what the frak was going on." There's some room for a suggestion of 'testing without consent'…which sadly makes more sense than any more esoteric explanations.

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

"Did they get to beta testing, did they somehow get made 'solid' and 'real' again due to some other factor that we don't have access to?" Sam wonders in return but shakes her head, firmly, decisively, "Maybe there's a facility somewhere on Piraeus where they have their own version of a resurrection hub. And someone who can punch in the right key strokes and make all the ones and zeros line up and march right and wake up a body and now we have a soldier that was suddenly fighting alongside us again." She falls quiet for a moment as she takes another series of shots, flexes her right hand, then takes the next five in rapid succession. "I don't know how this changes things, except adding more things to the collection of data that we can't do anything with."

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Gray takes a deep breath. "It depends on what's preserved, doesn't it? Nobody's even /asking/ that." He does another volley, roughly nailing the center of the target, before reeling in his target to exchange it: The damage at the center is getting to the point that he can hardly tell where his latest shots are hitting.

Gray takes a deep breath. "It depends on what's preserved, doesn't it? Nobody's even /asking/ that." He does another volley, roughly nailing the center of the target, before reeling in his target to exchange it: The damage at the center is getting to the point that he can hardly tell where his latest shots are hitting. "I mentioned the possibility to Coop and he freaked the frak out at the idea." What a mess /that/ was. "I mean, obviously there's a difference between a working facility with a bunch of stuff we could read and turn on tomorrow versus a lot of theoretical papers…but even if we just had theoretical stuff that…that would be way up a research path or something, right? So that's not all they'd have figured out."

Sam hits the safety, turns entirely toward Gray with a look on her face that is quite the mix of confusion, surprise, worry and a good deal of wariness. "Wait. You asked the question but it didn't go any further than just voicing the question? Did you run the idea past Major Gray?" she wonders at Anderson before shifting immediately to the next line of questions. "Did anyone ask any of the entities on planet if there IS such a facility, and if there is, is it still standing? And, following that, if both A and B are affirmative, may we send a team? Or, considering all the variables, is this a 'don't meddle don't ask leave it alone' situation?" She waits while Gray has the target page drawn back up the lane before she turns back to hers and fires another round of shots at the target, expending 75% of the rounds in this mag.

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Failure. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Sam hits the safety, turns entirely toward Gray with a look on her face that is quite the mix of confusion, surprise, worry and a good deal of wariness. "Wait. You asked the question but it didn't go any further than just voicing the question? Did you run the idea past Major Gray?" she wonders at Anderson before shifting immediately to the next line of questions. "Did anyone ask any of the entities on planet if there IS such a facility, and if there is, is it still standing? And, following that, if both A and B are affirmative, may we send a team? Or, considering all the variables, is this a 'don't meddle don't ask leave it alone' situation?" She waits while Gray has the target page drawn back up the lane before she turns back to hers and fires another round of shots at the target after having swapped out mag's while asking these questions.

Gray also hits the safety and puts his gun down. "I voiced the question right around Blue Axe. I've got a draft report in that notebook I always kept with me in the sickbay. Sergeant Kapali and I were working on a…project surrounding this so I could make the best presentation possible on the point because based on the blowback I got from others, I think I've got /one/ chance to make the case to pursue this and if I frak it up this whole research tree goes out the window." Groan. "And then I got shot."

Sam makes a mild and entirely off-key hum of sound, "Kapali. Ahh. The marine sergeant who does everything possible to avoid spending any time in sickbay, up to and including doing first aid on herself instead of having a qualified medic do it?" The CMO sounds both amused and mildly annoyed but the amusement wins over the annoyed. "She's definitely a marine, I'll give her that." She angles a nod at Gray and admits, "I can't give you any genuine advice on how to present anything to Major Gray. Save for, summarize in as few words as possible, present your day, then be prepared to give more details should he ask," and another series of shots are fired at the target again.

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Gray nods as Sam gives him what advice she can. "Understood. I've…also been given to understand that Major Gray…might not be very open to this." Beat. "I'm basing this on a lot of the blowback I got." Reading between the lines, he's been acting to avoid getting any direct orders on the subject. "Sergeant Kapali doesn't agree with me on what I would propose, for the record." But she agreed that it was important enough that they both threw away most of a leave day working on it.

<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Sam shakes her head, slowly, a decisive movement from side to side, "I can't speak to that. Even if I could, and I can't, I couldn't even begin to speculate, and with everything else already on the table? I think, no matter how this shakes down, I'm probably not going to be on board when you get your briefing scheduled and talked through. I wish you the best of luck, and I honestly hope that you get the green light, because I'd personally love to know more." She flexes her right hand again, briefly frowning down range, "You will find, Anderson, that people will agree, disagree, outright object, and have a dozen other ideas and opinions to practically everything you do that may impact anyone else when it comes to a decision of this nature. It's not easy being disliked. As the leading expert on that, let me assure you that I know what I'm speaking of. So accept what may come as the result of this."

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success.

Gray nods along as Sam continues. "Understood. Would you be willing to review a copy of my report before I submit it, if only for technical correctness?" With that, he turns back to the range and finishes unloading his own magazine.

Sam's eyes narrow at the target page as she hits the button to reel it back in and makes a quiet, "Huh" of sound upon realizing that she's actually hit the target, within the target rings even, all twenty rounds. "Well, look at that. Much better," as she peels the page off and sets it on the stack beside her to replace it with another one. "I'd be happy to, if there's time. I'm slated to depart at the end of the week." She hits the button to send the new target page down lane while swapping out the mag and waiting until the target page is in place and lines up the next five rounds with the new mag in the Arpay sidearm.

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

"Understood. I'll get you what we have as soon as I can. If we don't get a chance to talk before then, best of luck with your tour." Swapping out the magazine in his gun as well, Gray again turns his focus to perforating the target in front of him.

Sam angles her head subtly to the side, "Luck won't have a lot to do with it. Keeping my head down and not doing anything obsessively impulsively stupid seems to be the theme of the day." She aims another sidelong look at Anderson, "Give me your one minute summary, off the cuff," she prompts on the spot before aiming at the target again and takes the next series of shots.

Gray sets his gun down to give the 'short version' of his report. The result is…surprisingly bureaucratese-heavy for a Corporal, but he's also been fiddling with the language for a while.

"Data found in The Box indicates that prior to their encounter with the Machines, the Piraeans were engaged in research on the use of resurrection technology, simiar to that used with the Lines, on Piraean humans. Such technology would have multiple uses in a wartime context, notably in preventing the loss of intelligence through unexpected combat losses and voluntary self-termination of intelligence assets. Likewise, it would prevent the loss of irreplaceable knowledge and skill sets in the context of long-range deployments as well as circumstances where manpower is otherwise drastically constrained. Finally, it has the ability to both facilitate the execution of attacks which necessitate a low or non-existent chance of extraction and reduce the chances of the loss of intelligence to hostile forces by reducing the psychological cost of self-termination as well as reducing the sacrifices so required."

Plain language time!

"If this technology works like it should, and we're able to implement it, the frakker we're trying to interrogate can try to kill himself or his buddies can try to take him out. Good luck to them. If we're down to sixty pilots again, it means we're not likely to lose one we can't replace, given how long it takes to train a replacement. And to be blunt, Major? I've seen too many people die to agree with the Arpayans about all the honor of these wars. If I had the choice I'd die as many times as I had to, as badly as I had to, so some other kid can actually get to live his life or so we could have gotten whatever intel we might have out of Libran or anywhere else."

Returning the sidearm to the holster at her side, as much now out of trained instinct as because it's part of the training agreement, Sam unhooks the ear protection so that she can hear Anderson's pitch without the slightly sound warping result of the ear protection. Through it all, her expression remains focused and intent, waiting a few moments after he's done speaking before she gives a measured nod. "Concise. Pointed. Phrased with emotional emphasis while still hitting the points of logic and urgency." She angles another nod at the Corporal, "I had a tutor who used to say: Your opinion isn't wrong if you can back it up with proof and documentation. I never did decide if I agree to that statement or not, but he did have a point. Are you prepared, Corporal, to be wrong and to be told no?"

Exhaling a quiet sound that is almost, but not quite, a sigh as she lifts one hand to rub lightly at the back of her neck as she fixes a long look at Anderson that conveys a series of complex emotions. "Corporal, you know the difference between a surgeon and a marine? We're both trying to save lives. You do it by putting your life on the line every time it needs to be done. A surgeon tries to repair the damage done to the marines that do the job they do by putting their lives on the line every time they get asked to do so. Please understand that I'm not making light of your words, not in the least. I'm only trying to explain something, so you understand the difference in mind set. It's something that they try to explain to us before we actually become a doctor. Not in school - that isn't where you learn in any case - but when you lay your hands on people and presume to heal them. There are so many there beyond your reach. So many you can never touch so many whose essence you can't find so many who slip through your fingers. But you can't think about them. The only thing you can do - the Only thing - is to try for the one who's in front of you. Act as thought this one patient is the only person in the world - because to do otherwise is to lose that one too. One at a time that's all you can do. And you learn not to despair over all the ones you can't help but only do what you can," she says this in a quiet but intense tone of voice.

"We all die. I know that maybe more than most, I know that because every single death certificate that has been signed since the start of this war has been processed by medical. And since taking the job as CMO, that means it's my signature. Over and over again. We die, Anderson, because we are meant to. And doing anything else? Cheating death? Recycling ourselves and our knowledge endlessly? It's not about honor, it's not about cheapening the experience, it's just plain wrong. That's only my opinion, just to be clear. And right now I don't honestly think I can sign another death certificate without breaking so far I can't even begin to figure out how to put the pieces back together. Which is why I have to take this time away from the fleet. We die, because it's right. Because it's necessary. Because if we don't die, then what we do, how we live, why we live, why we fight, what we sacrifice, what we lose along the way? it has no meaning. It has no purpose. No value. And all of this?" she uses her left hand to gesture around the room, "Is pointless."

Gray listens, earnestly and respectfully, to what Sam has to say. He doesn't even respond immediately to what she says…there's a lot to respond to in it and the look on his face is one of deep thought and contemplation.

"I get that, and…so much of this is opinion and philosophy. But where is the 'right' and the 'wrong' in this war? It's not /wrong/ that in one day, Air Wing took 80% casualties? Or that /everyone I knew growing up is probably dead/ because of a rogue copy-paste error called the Cylons?" Gray takes a deep breath as he tries to keep himself on the rails.

"Until the Arpay showed up I would have added the fact that the next ten generations were probably going to die of cancer before they made it to fifty because of all the radiation out there. But their tech took that out of the mix. I'm not going to argue that we're not all dead in the long run no matter what. That's not the point of this. The point is…if it's unnatural to take technology as far as we can then where do we decide /not/ to go? The Piraeans said don't pursue AI but they also made the Lines. The Arpayans pursued it but kept it locked away so it couldn't get out. From what I can tell the Arpayans had to make an entirely new category of existence to accommodate the Lines. So…was it wrong for the Piraeans to make the Lines? Frak, is it wrong for us to cheat death with all the new medical tech the Arpayans can give us or with steel walls in outer space?

"Even if we had a perfectly working system, there would still be the risk of death. How many Lines died out in the Nebula? That risk would never go away no matter how hard we try. And outside a few narrow circumstances I don't think it should be forced on anyone. But I don't think our lives would be meaningless if we were spared seeing gods know how many final deaths when we have to go up against the Big Red Blob and I don't think we would be that much poorer if Air Wing could have been un-hosed after Blue Axe or we could have re-staffed within a few weeks of Warday. Even if it was only retained as a secure second strike capability, and that is one hell of a capability if you ask me, that sort of thing is invaluable. Even those Lines who would swear of resurrection in a vacuum will concede its utility in the context of this war.

"But I've got a very real problem with the idea that my life having meaning has to come at the price of watching good people die in this war. If that is the price of my life having meaning, then that meaning comes at too high a price." Gray finally runs out of steam…or stops himself. It's hard to say which…he seems to have something else to say, but he lets it drop aside. For the moment, he's said enough.

"Thing is, Anderson, I don't think you want me to answer any of those questions," Sam says after studying Gray for another of those long silent moments, flexing one hand again before she holds up that same hand, pivots toward the lane again and has to keep working on her skill set while thinking over what Gray has shared. Only when she empties the clip does she turn back.

"That is what you're going to have to pitch to the Major, and if he agrees, then Command. And if Command agrees? Someone who can liaise with one of the entities on P, once we're in orbit again. If the powers that be, on P, are amiable, then you get to pick your team to take with you to investigate this potential sight. Now, say that everyone that you talk to is equally amiable and in agreement, you're not addressing the fact that the Arpay - who are potentially our allies going forward - have strong prohibitions against AI and artificially extending live into some semblance of immortality. How will our new allies feel about the Colonial military dabbling it's collective feet into this pool that they are very clear and concise against?"

Gray looks Sam in the eye. "Actually, I would like an answer. Sincerely. First, it would assist me in anticipating arguments so I can develop counter-arguments. I /know/ I'm not unbiased in this and that I've got blind spots. Second, I said earlier that I'm open to counter-arguments and being told I'm wrong. I am. I just…is it wrong to want something more than 'It's wrong' as a reason?

"I've kept my mouth shut lately to avoid causing an incident with them. I know my bedside manner sometimes leaves something to be desired. But these are the same allies who have themselves admitted that they cannot win their war. Ok, they chucked the prohibition on AI but kept one on immortality and as far as I can tell they've just managed to be shelf-stable losers. By their own admission they can't reproduce fast enough to have a hope of winning." Gray bites his tongue here: Notwithstanding the fact that they /are/ lending a hand, there's an element in his mind really wondering who they are to talk. He holds back, though…Doctor Jiminez is someone he does respect personally, even if he seriously scratches his head at the Arpay at times."

"On the other hand, Piraeus kept one on AI but probably chucked it on immortality. They went down hard and fast, but they also didn't have a secondary site. What if they were both wrong and we'd need both, plus a massive population base, to actually have a shot at this thing? Frak, where would we be if we'd been able to go in hard and fast on this fifty or a hundred years ago?"

"I want to win this war…but I don't want to win it so that we just find our kids fighting it over again and facing the same sort of hell our parents managed to pass onto us. And finally…what good is all the meaning in the universe if we find ourselves ultimately hunted down or forced to live in primitive slavery?""

<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Failure. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Gray rolls Firearms: Good Success.

While Gray speaks, Sam is ejecting the 2nd of the two mags she's working her way through and loads the third one, head angling slightly toward Gray without interrupting. Listening in what is equally polite silence and pensive consideration, though admittedly there are a few arch looks aimed at Gray. Finally shaking her head subtly as she retrieves the page from the end of the range, adds it to the stack, tacks up a new one, sends it back down range again, hooks the ear protection in place to fire off half the clip again then takes a moment to pause, ear protection moved out of the way, so that she can start to respond to Gray.

"If you're asking yourself if you're doing the right thing, you already know the answer - stop making excuses to yourself," is how she begins her own reply. "It is wrong, Anderson, and that way lies madness. It's wrong, because we have no right to circumvent biology or evolution or pick a word that makes you feel better about the answer. Just because science -can- do something does not mean that we should. Curing diseases? Ending genetic errors? Repairing damage? Enhancing human life, extending the life span to a reasonable amount? Those are minor things, in the larger scheme of things. But bread and circus and eternal life? Those are keys, in my opinion, to destruction. We are not meant to live forever, Anderson, we just aren't. And yes, 'It's wrong', is really a reason. If not simply THE reason."

She exhales out a sigh that turns is paired with subtly narrowed eyes, "Shelf stable losers is a phrase I'd rather never hear again, Anderson. And I'll thank you to think very deeply on how you apply those words to anyone, let alone ourselves, or the Arpay, before you go any further down that particular train of thought. If you think they're losers, I suggest you need to spend more time with any of the representatives that are already among us. People I will be spending a full year with, in fact. Which turns that question on edge: in your opinion, will that make me a shelf-stable loser by association?" is wondered. "The only way to answer a question like this is to make it personal, Anderson. And I think you know that."

She rubs at the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger, breathing in relative quiet for a moment before she gives a shallow nod. "Because it's wrong. Because making artificial life starts the cycle again. Because making artificial life to be soldiers IS slavery. Because we have to earn this, Anderson. Because we have to be worthy. Because if we don't do what's right, if we don't risk everything, then this never ends. And wars? They come, they go, there's a lull, then the cycle begins, again. War is thuggery and hatred and fear and envy and idiocy writ large. The only way to break the cycle is to refuse the premise. And because, again, it is wrong. We've lived in primitive situations before, we've evolved technologically, and hit a critical mass and started over, again and again. The solution isn't in science. In my opinion, and that's all this is. The solution is in us. In the bonds that we make between each other. Something the machines will never understand."

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Failure.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Penta walkis in at this point. Raising his eyebrows at the debate, he nonetheless proceeds to his lane and puts on eye and ear protectionm. After a moment, he speaks. "I would suggest that it might be considered that you're both asking philosophical - nay, possibly *theological* - questions I'm not sure anybody on this ship has the chops to begin to answer." Pause. "I'm just guessing here, the debate is over certain things found on P?"

Gray takes another volley during some convenient breaks in Sam's side in the dialogue…and finds himself wishing very badly that he had a hot mike right now.

"I'm not asking myself if I'm doing the right thing, Major. If I was not at ease with this position I would have chucked it out an airlock after Coop ripped me a new asshole on it months ago." The term 'backfire' could easily come to mind here, at least if Gray weren't bending over backwards to make sure he got the full brunt of the other side's argument from the best debating partners he could find. "However, as a doctor I suspect that there are times when what you know you ought to be able to do with the tools at your disposal is made impractical due to circumstances. A triage situation comes to mind. I am also open to hearing /evidence/ that my position doesn't work. The only evidence I have is the Lines and, One aside, from what I have seen they can resurrect without adverse effects on their morality. All evidence is that One may have been tampered with, too, if I've heard correctly.

"You use qualifiers such as a 'reasonable amount'. What is a reasonable amount? Eighty years? Two hundred? Five hundred or a thousand? Or is it relative, perhaps aiming to extend five or ten years in each generation or two? I suspect there are some Saggitarians who we could get into a nice three-way fight with over those lines. We can probably add the non-Line Piraeans to that list as well."

And then, with a sigh, it's onto the Arpay. "You may not want to hear it, but thier doctrine is that of losers, Doctor. Not that they lack honor, but they have conceded that they are fighting a rear-guard action for generation after generation for tens of thousands of years and that the course of their war is unchanged in spite of having a mother-frakking galaxy to develop. That may be honorable and commendable and it may be due to the circumstances of facing down the opponent they are facing, but that is not winning and even if in the end they back out the door, what is to stop the Big Red Blob from chasing them? From what I can tell, the best they can offer us is a slow backing out the door, probably ending in a massacre of those making a last stand at some point…and while that is better than nothing and I'm willing to take it since it's the best offer on the table, that doesn't exactly give me a reason to be hopeful about where we'll be in a generation.

"Moreover, they are good people but that does not mean that they are automatically right. If they have a trial-and-error example on this I am open to hearing it since that would be evidence instead of opinion.

"Does that make you one as well? No, I don't think it does, except to the extent we all might well be at this point. But you're right, I need to be as direct on this as I can be without causing an incident. Just because I believe in this, just because I have faith that my position is ultimately correct, doesn't mean I'm willing to gamble an alliance on it working on it."

And then he sees Penta out of the corner of his eye. "Sir. Welcome. You guessed right."

Sharing a cordial nod with Penta as the ensign enters the firing range with his own sidearm and training rounds, taking up a firing lane relative to where she and Gray are exchanging both words and practice rounds at the targets already tacked up down range. "Ensign," she offers to accompany that tipped nod, "we're having a bit of a debate, which I hope you don't mind wading into if you've mind to." She then exhales a chuckle of amusement, "Chops? No. Inclination? That might be more accurate." She holds up one hand, palm facing Gray again, before she aims down range again and empties the clip into the target, makes an annoyed 'Feh' of sound as she ejects the now empty clip, goes through the motions to bring the target page back up so she can add it to the stack and loads yet another mag, moving to rounds 80-100 that's she's firing so far in this practice alone. Only when she has everything in place and a new target sheet heading back down range does she speak again.

"When you propose to make decisions for others, Anderson, you should always ask yourself if you're doing the right thing. As a surgeon, I ask myself that all the time. Is this decision the right one, is this procedure the right one. When presented with several wounded of equal severity, and triage indicates that each has the same variables for survival? I have to decide where to start. Picking one life can cost another, or two, or more. But that is MY job, it is what I am sworn to do. So I ask myself, all the time, is what I'm doing right. And after making that decision? I have to carry it through. There's no room for second guessing, no time to waffle and waver with indecision. Because indecision also kills. So asking yourself if you're doing the right thing is damned well what you should be asking yourself, and it's the same question the Arpay have been wrestling with for countless generations. They have a mandate that they live by, that they are honor bound to adhere to. Before you cast their honor, the core of their way of life, into the rubbish bin, perhaps you should be asking another series of questions."

She shakes her head then and exhales, slowly, a nice measured breath, flexing her right hand again and the muscles in her arm while she counts slowly upward in prime numbers until reaching a calmer point from which to work forward. "You don't want evidence, Anderson. You want me to agree with you, and command, and so on. A debate, a genuine philosophical debate, is about the exchange of ideas and being receptive to points of view to which you do not subscribe. That said, I do not subscribe - personally - to blanket statements such as 'automatically right' let alone such null words as 'everyone' 'always' 'forever' etcetera. Null words with no real semantic applicable meaning save for cultural implication," she counters then flexes her hand again, frowning at it for a moment.

"You say that you have faith in your position but you're not willing to gamble the alliance because of it. Fortunately, you're not the one ultimately making this decisions. Nor am I, for that matter, which I am - equally - glad of. Men and women with more experience in this area are going to make this decision. If you want Major Gray to hear you out, I suggest you abandon comparisons to the word Loser and the application of it in any sense to the Arpay. Which I," and she exhales a sound that's almost a laugh, more startled than nod, "find to be actually objectionable and frankly insulting. Which, for me, is a new sentiment." Sam sounds baffled and a bit, slightly, mildly, alarmed and intrigued at the same time. "Actually having an emotional response to any line of dialog is a new thing entirely, so I'm a bit new at this. So it may be off the mark but I don't think that it is." There's a brief pause, "But I could be wrong. Margin of error."

Penta looks thoughtfully at the other two. "More to the point, Gray, if you want the major to hear you out, you have to overcome the strategic reality that we have no particular choice but to remain in the Arpay's good graces," he notes. "Our sovereignty extends only so far as we are not squished."

"All else being equal I do not want to make decisions for others, but to put options on the table. I did carve out some narrow exceptions earlier…if you could reboot a toaster and get a hard drive full of intel off of it, I think you would. I'd happily force-resurrect a One into a paralyzed body and have someone interrogate him.

"I know you are not going to agree with me, at least not categorically. Maybe there are points of agreement between our positions, but we're not going to reach any sort of complete agreement today. I've known that for at least a magazine, maybe one and a half, but I didn't disengage." He hasn't been keeping /that/ close of a watch on the flow of ammunition. "Would I like for you to agree with me? Of course I would. In spite of the fact that all evidence says that engaging on this point is, as far as persuasion goes, a waste of time I have continued to listen, respond, and engage. Like I said, I have been looking for blind spots in my own thinking and reasoning as well as information. I know I have found several in the course of this discussion, particularly a hair trigger point or two which might set me off in a cross-examination.

"And from a tactical perspective, yes, I am looking for angles that would allow us to get one or two steps along my preferred path. I could construct a line of argument towards the wholesale adoption of this, but I know that won't be recieved well. So I've tried to work out what I can achieve, what has strategic value that I can put forth.

"By the way, I'm curious: A few moments ago you said that if I'm questioning what I'm doing, I'm probably wrong but then you said I should always be questioning what I'm doing. Is it a matter of questioning principles versus actions? Or is there another semantic point I missed? For example, I know what I'm trying to achieve is right, but I /do/ constantly examine how I am going about it."

Then, he turns to Penta and nods. "A strategic reality which I will conform to, but which I may always resent them for even as I am thankful for what they do or have done or will do for us. I'm pretty sure there are some Saggitarians who would say the same thing about the Colonial government."

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Aiming a sidelong look at Penta, Sam's expression alters to one of mild amusement. "Succint and pointed but accurate on all counts. Squished, being bad, that is. I'd rather not be, personally. The knowledge that the machines they are fighting are bigger and, by extrapolation, even more bent on genocidal extermination in sweeping campaigns is more than a little daunting. Actually, scratch that. Nix daunting. It edges right into the idea that running, screaming, from the room at full speed seems like a very good idea. Possibly running without screaming so as to avoid making any noise at all, actually, is a better plan. I will remember that, just in case I have need of it during the time that I'm gone. Run. Quietly." She holds up one hand then to pause while she aims down range, again, and empties half the mag, again, counting in her head as she does so. She pauses at that point, again, and turns toward Gray.

"Much as I abhor the thought that of anything even remotely resembling torture, and that would qualify as torture just to be clear, it would be interesting. But not interesting enough. That said, if you did that to just the head of one of the Centurions? That would be fascinating. Though it, to begs the question as to whether or not the Centurions are 'alive' or are they just programming? Further necessitating the debate between whether the Centurions, if they're alive, are individuals with their own sense of self? Do the Raiders? Did the cylons surround themselves with self aware programming in everything? From weapons systems and ships to coffee makers and everything else? Is there a line, and if so, where is it? Frivolous questions, until they're not." She points one finger at Gray, "The only waste of time is when nothing is learned," sounding every inch the surgeon and educator that she has been throughout her career and service. "Any day in which something new is learned is not a wasted day. Always remember that."

She turns toward Penta, "What do you think of Anderson's perspective on this? Not just tactical, but as we're exploring the angles of this from a personal, professional, philosophical and what will of course have some manner of theological standpoint," that part baffles the surgeon but she pushes on, "aside from a stated preference against being squished. Which I happen to agree with. Anderson has stated his willingness to confirm while employing and demonstrating varying degrees of resentment. Can you extrapolate from the presented data that you have access to and determine to what degree this application of resentment will be demonstrated by the fleet and the remaining civilians, over all?"

Penta looks thoughtful. "Folks are pretty proud, doc. I don't know that *anybody* necessarily likes what the Arpay are proposing. They might accept it, but they aren't going to like it. Sovereignty, being masters of our own destiny, that's really important to people. Maybe now even *more* than before warday."

"I am also not a fan of being squished. I'm sure there are a few in the fleet who like the idea of it, but I believe there are professionals who might offer them some help for that." Gray smirks at his remark before moving on.

"I think the question of programming is more complicated than any of us give it credit for. Again, as I understand it the Arpay would have considered the Lines to simply be…organic machines, for want of a better term. They later reconsidered and declared them to be a sentient race. For the record, this is probably not a hard-line scenario. A good philisophical question would be this: Had we treated the Cylons as equal from their creation, would they have still risen up against us? As far as I can tell, the Arpay would, from both doctrine and experience, say absolutely. While I am inclined to agree, I can see a counter-argument, though I wouldn't gamble on it without the sorts of checks on one that would make the Arpay's AI controls look weak. Were coexistence possible, they would probably be worthy of rights…but we're also in a fight which makes that impossible. On their end, definitely; possibly on ours as well on some level.

"I believe that Ensign Penta and I are in agreement: If the Arpay were to, for example, demand that we restructure our society generally along their lines they might be right from a strategic and tactical perspective but doing so would breed resentment. Possibly more tactical than strategic due to the nature of politics. Again, see Saggitarion. Also…it's one thing for the Fleet to directly rule one or two depopulated planets. Sooner or later, the pragmatic reality is that some element of popular control will be demanded and if they're trying to make the Colonies in the image of their charter the Arpay are a ready-made cleavage for some idiot to grab onto."

<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Great Success. <FS3> Samtara rolls Firearms: Good Success.

Finishing the mag and this time making a rather unprofessional sort of sound, because twenty rounds in a row without missing any of the firing rings is a BIG DEAL for Sam. "Hah!" yeah, that's the sound. She hits the button to reel the target paper back in and pulls it off the line with another of those HAH sounds of delight and sets it proudly on top of the stack before she tacks up another one, sends it down the lane and swaps out the mag. "Two hundred rounds at a pop isn't so insane after all, who'd have thought," she remarks with a firm shake of her head. "I don't think I've fired off one hundred rounds at a pop over the course of an entire year until this training began. I mean, I'm a surgeon, not a sniper or a marine, you guys do a lot more weapons training that I ever needed to. Just being able to not shoot myself in the foot or any of you by accident was typically sufficient. THIS is way more than just being sufficient, it's actually practical. Why didn't anyone suggest this before?" there's a bit of adrenaline there which the doctor recognizes and takes a moment, nice and quiet like, to wait until it ebbs a bit then exhales a slower breath. "Note to self, adrenaline laced weapon training decisions are not recommended."

She angles a look sidelong at Penta, "Your summary analysis is that the Arpay are setting themselves up to be some manner of sovereign rulers over the remains of humanity, as it is?" She turns that same question toward Gray with a shift, "And you think that the Arpay are going to force the fleet and equally the remains of humanity to change diametrically to align with their version of cultural and tactical societal structures? Based on the data presented to date, we are losing this war. They are losing the war they are fighting, while doing everything they can to keep their people alive and evacuate what population bases they can in advance of the arrival of the machines they're fighting. Anderson, remember that in a mob, the lowest based IQ quotient is typically the loudest and that's why rule of mob is so dangerous. So in this example, are we the idiots in the mob or are we standing on the sidelines hoping not to get swept up and trampled?"

Penta looks thoughtful. "I don't think they intend to, but I think that may be the fear people have. There's a difference."

"If I'm listening to their doctrine, it sounds like they assert that role implicitly. It is not hard for someone to connect the dots to suggest it, particularly if the Fleet works closely with them to encourage social change in line with them. And…the only reason they stand to make a difference is that we're facing baby monsters and not grown-up monsters. We're probably more well-matched to our opponents than they are, and we're all doing our best."

Gray sighs at the last question, however. "Depends on who the mob is. Regardless, we're going to think we're right. The people in the mob usually think they are as well and they usually have some reasoning to back up their position, even if it's based on bad data."

Shaking her head, Sam's reply is quiet and reasoned but decisive all the same. "I think that you are wrong, assessment wise. The Arpay could as easily have simply escorted our Marines back, wished us well, told us to stay on this side of the universe and left us to our own ends. They elected to remain and learn more about us. Who we are. Why we are. What we are. It would have been far easier to just walk away. Cleaner. Less time and resource consuming. But that's not what they did. Those aren't the actions of shelf stable losers, Anderson. And if you were present for the intel briefing that Dr. Jimenez just hosted, you know there is a great deal more at stake thank just our fight. Which, again, to point of fact, we are losing. The centurions are turning out own children into enemy combatants and pitching them against us. Against you," and she glances from Penta to Anderson and back. "We don't have a working cure for what they're doing to the population that has been altered thusly. Maybe the Arpay will have something. Maybe they won't. Until we have something that works? People will continue to die. If we're not going to win this war, ultimately, a new question is required. That question, thus, becomes: How many lives can we save?"

Sam is quiet for a moment before she sighs. "From your perspective, you are approaching this from the equation of dying on your feet or living on your knees. The Arpay are suggesting the alternative of massive evacuation and tactical withdrawal from the worlds where a tactical win will be a Phyrric victory, at best. Genocide and slaughter being more realistic. We evacuate those who want to live and get them to a new world where that is a viable option. Humanity is not a place, gentleman. It is not Sagittaron or Libran or Caprica. It is the people. And as long as we survive, as a people, then we win. Its that simple. And that complex. And like I have said, amd keep saying, we have to earn this. Our right to survive isn't intrinsic. The universe doesn't give a damn whether we are here or not. It will keep expanding and contracting and ticking on with or without us."

Gray nods. "I agree that they could have, but by that token the could - and, from one pragmatic perspective, should - have simply ditched this galaxy long ago. They have another reason. Maybe pure doctrine which they inherited, maybe the pragmatism of tying the Machines down for as long as possible. Also note that I did not say they had malicious motives, merely how their doctrine might assert itself. From what I've gathered they've all but dragged humans off of worlds in the face of Machine advances. Their doctrine is clearly…" Beat. "Paternalistic? I think that's the word. They're trying their best. I don't doubt that. But their best isn't quite doing what they would seem to hope for." There's another pause. "Also, even if we get that…trying to drag people along with a program indefinitely is easier said than done."

"Anything worth doing is worth the effort it takes to get it done. Do the Arpay strike you as the sort of people who take the easy way to accomplish anything? For the love of logic, Anderson, just to qualify to deploy like this, I have to beat Jimenez in hand to hand combat. Me. And until these last few weeks? I haven't been in any sort of physical altercation of any sort since training. But I'm learning. Because I have to do this, i have to know. I can't adequately convey the depth of the urgency that we are up against in real terms until I can say I have experienced it first hand. Maybe you should ask Jimenez if you can volunteer for a slot as well, Anderson. See first hand what they're up against before making up your mind."

Sam shakes her head after she says this, "If it can't be expressed in math its rumor, not data. If you haven't seen it with your own eyes, it's rumor and conspiracy."

Penta is initially quiet, then raises his eyebrows. "Um, your epistemology leaves a lot to be desired…."

Sam angles a look at Penta, "Epistemology is defined as the investigation of what distinguishes justified belief from opinion. I intend to find out, first hand. I'm a scientific, gentleman. I don't have any theological beliefs of my own nor any interest in same." She eyes Gray next: "Before you judge? Go find out."

"Major, you asked us…ok, you asked Ensign Penta and I jumped in as well…how we thought the population…that is, both Fleet and otherwise…would take the Arpayans' actions. I believe that we gave valid opinions of that. I believe that I also gave a favorable opinion of the Arpayans' motives while noting that I did not necessarily agree with everything they might want us to do in terms of doctrine."

Gray pauses to let that sink in. "I believe I gave an evaluation of their motives that was neutral or favorable, though I don't think everyone would see them that way, especially given time and potentially given some really shitty context. For the record, apparently the Colonies, pre-war, had as many people as the Arpayans could account for in their other galaxy. Given how long they've been doing the evacuations for and given that we started with a single ship here, that isn't an optimistic situation. I'm sure a sociologist could explain why

"Anyhow, while I'm critical of some of their doctrines but I don't think I'm blindly so. Skeptical might be a better word. I think I'm also being realistic about their chances of success in the long term, and - epithets aside, at least - from what I have heard they would agree. I'm probably being less diplomatic since gunfire and earpro make conversations less likely to be overheard."

"Quite right," Sam agrees, aiming a nod at Anderson . "Thus, also, are we at an impasse. I do not agree with many of your points or assessments. Nor, perhaps, do you mine. The question that remains is whether or not this exercise has aided your preparation for the potential dialog with Major Gray?"

Gray nods. "It has. Like I said, I think I've identified some weaknesses on my end, presentation-wise. Hearing arguments from someone less emotionally invested in aspects of resurrection than Sgt. Knox and…frankly…from a scientific mindset was very helpful." And then Gray relaxes. "Major Nadir, on the off chance I don't get to see you again before you depart…thank you very much for lending me some of your time and your energy. Were you not about to deploy elsewhere, I would have enjoyed debating with you on another topic in the future. Perhaps when you return we will get that chance?"

Angling another nod at Anderson, Sam allows that half curve of a smile to form again; still not quite comfortable with the emotional display but, equally, working on it. "Differences aside, Corporal, I rather enjoyed this debate as well. I'm pleased that it will contribute to a more logical discourse with the Major. That said," and Sam turns slightly to offer her right hand to Anderson, "thank you. Bearing in mind that five weeks of our time will be a year spent away in relative time, I speculate that our follow up conversation will be markedly different." She pauses then exhales a breath of a laugh, "On this or any topic. A year can bring a lot of changes."

Gray chuckles back. "Hopefully I'll see you in a few weeks and you'll see me in a year…and who'd have ever thought that would make sense?"

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