AWD #389: Violating Personal Space Protocol
AWD #389: Violating Personal Space Protocol
Summary: Many things are now in motion & Dr. Nadir travels to Crandall to speak with Knox about one, important, aspect. Lacking adequate sleep and experiencing a higher level of personal worry than she normally allows, Dr. Nadir loses her hold on her professional courtesy and violates personal space protocol more than once. Shouting, rather a lot of it, is accompanied by a moment of intel sharing that leads to a look of apprehension from Knox that rattles the doctor more than anything else.
Date: Fri 15/Jul/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs:
Knox Samtara 
Aircraft Apron - Crandall

The heavily creased and cragged tarmac has seen better days but there is plenty of room for any number of aircraft that need to find ready station and waiting room on the base. The apron spreads out, further away from the runway to the West, but in the immediate vicinity are a few buildings. To the North across a large taxing area are the hangars, spread out in a line that leads away from the central buildings and towards the runway. To the East are the buildings in question, the closest being Operations which is a stark, well built brick building with the heavily reinforced munitions bunker attached. The two buildings are ensconced by an extra chain link fence collapsing at one side and likely no longer worth its weight.

Further away and taking up most of the room at Crandall is the AMARG - Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group. The massive dirt storage area for space ready birds has its own apron and large facility. Extra pieces and portions of older birds litter a portion of the side of a building. A long abandoned older Raptor model sits unused and rusting.

Mon 30/Jan/2006

Sam arrives on Picon and deal with the weather. There's a thunderstorm rolling through. The landing was plenty nasty and bumpy, but the Raptor does it's thing. The hatch popped out, a question asked, Knox can be found at a particular hangar. As Samtara approaches, she's led to a patrol point. The enclosure is conrete as a machinegun bunker. As she looks around, she can see a 20mm antiaircraft gun pointed to the sky. they all leave her alone for the moment. But as they walk away, she can hear the radion calls for 'Sergeant Knox'.

As the time in jump is really nothing, Sam doesn't have an adequate amount of time to either adapt or cope with the ride itself and did not adequately plan for rough weather weather conditions between point A and point B. The pilot probably does not appreciate the fact that the doctor threw up on the outside of the raptor, but to her credit, she didn't throw up INSIDE the bloody raptor. What was already a rather drawn and tired look is now enhanced with a slightly greenish shade as she reaches the bunker, eyes the gun, then opens the miniature medkit at her side. A canteen is opened, she takes the time to rinse out her mouth, wipe her face off, and pops not one but several mints to clean the taste out of her mouth.

The radio call has been clearly intercepted. He does arrive a few minutes later. The bunker isn't clean and it stinks of BO and ammunition. But the seats at the back of the bunker are clearly meant for a bunk. At least that point is clean. After Sam has gotten herself settled for a few minutes, the armored door - which doubles as a hatch - opens. Knox steps down in. He waves to the two Marines inside and settles on the bunk. "Hey. This is classified. Give me the bunker, please." The three Marines inside nod to each other and move out, giving them a casual privacy.

"Can you have them take a walk and leave the door open?" Samtara wonders, obviously having an issue with the enclosed space for the moment and paces toward the entrance to the bunker and back. "Would it kill them to use a bucket of water and bleach and scrub this thing down once in a while?" asked before she turns back and angles a nod at Knox, "I'm sorry. I'm rattled and I'm bitchy when I'm rattled, and embarrassed that I threw up on the outside of the bloody raptor. Because nothing says professional naval officer like throwing up all over the damned hull."

Knox approaches easily, watching the flight crews lear out. When he hits the interior, he moves back towards the bunk at the rear. The 'Knox'? Jean, Caprican Buccanneer's t-shirt. He relaxes back. "A solid fifth of my line hates the atmo-drop. Just freaks them out. We blame it in the Elevens. …How are you feelin?"

"Because the elevens have an issue with heights or the notion of crashing into the surface of the planet and making an unfortunate crater and that fear has infected her line along with any of those who have accessed her memories?" Sam wonders in a rather instinctive aside before she holds up one hand, "Nix that. Just.. moot." She walks around and back again, having lost some measure of her ability to maintain a calm facade as she takes a few important moments to get her composure back into place. She pinches the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger while doing so, "One of our marines just tried to kill himself," deciding to lead with that, apparently. "Correction. One of our marines was intercepted before he could attempt to kill himself, which is a minor distinction but an important one."

Knox navigates the bunker easily enough. he stands by the enterance, but he wears the orange colors of any other deck member. The questions answered leave the Six with some information… One of them tried to kill himself. Knox has stood by the doorway for this, but that point hits him close. The guy looks away and even steps that way. After a few moments, he nods. "Can you give me ten minutes?"

Samtara rubs at the back of her neck with one hand as she looks from the one wearing jeans and a t-shirt then back to the one wearing the orange colors and literally decides that she's the one who needs to sit down. She eyes the marines and asks, rather mildly, "Please give us the room, feel free to hover outside if your orders actually require it." Whether it's because their orders give them the leeway or not they do step outside though, equally, they leave the door open as she'd also requested. "Next time I come here I'm bringing my own cleaning supplies."

Knox watches as the rest depart. The bunker seems to clear out easily enough. Marines depart. They have a comfy place to talk, though. Dug into the exterior of the taxi-way, the view outside provides them a spectacular view of Vipers and Predators taking off. Meanwhile, Knox? he pays no attention. "No apologies about your cleaning supplies. Best we can manage is a little bath and body works. What's up."

"Lets take this again from the top," Sam says as she paces around the bunker then back, stuffing both hands into her pockets to keep from employing any other action. The messenger bag that is slung over one shoulder and worn, cross body, weighs at her side as she exhales. "One of our marines was intercepted before he could complete his intent to self terminate."

Knox is cool hanging by the doorway. There are sandbags that provide a nice place to put weight on. 'Lets take this from the top', Cooper seems chill with it. Arms crossed on his chest - but it all drops in an instant. "Gods." He stands off the lean. "Who?"

"Sergeant Ynyr," Sam replies instantly. "Lleufer Ynyr, that is."

Cooper hears that rank and name and stands away from the sandbags. "Lleu." There's real concern in his eyes. A moment to look at the man tells an eternity. The look on his face coals decades together for a burn in those eyes. The worry and concern isn't somthing idle. Terminating himself? Coop stands nearly straight in the bunker. The look to him is something more human than anything Sam has probably ever seen before. Knox wants to leap. "Can I see him? Please, Doctor? I need to see the Sergeant. Let me on the ship. Any guard. I just want to talk to him."

"Not yet, but that's on my list of things to see about arranging," Sam answers quietly. "I have a colleague in charge of his case already. She's going to determine the best treatment regimen that can be mapped out with the resources that we have on hand. I also need to acquire some additional prescription medications that we don't have a huge supply of, so that's also on the list. I had to have the MP's find him," she adds in that same carefully quiet voice. "And he fought them, but they managed to bring him back to the ship in one piece and I ended up having to sedate him and secure him under observation. I'm telling you this, which is a clear violation of his right to privacy, because I cannot adequately convey the depth of the situation as it stands without filling in all of the parameters."

Coop stands there, silent. He just stares at Samtara. "You've assigned someone." The words are dry. "Someone." Sam knows she's talking to a skinjob. But with the desperate look on the face of the man in front of her, this isn't some programmed reaction. The look on the face of the JTAC is pure. There's real fear there. And anger. "Drugs?!" he blurts. "You can't treat a Marine with drugs. Not someone like Sergeant Ynr." Coop steps away, nearly walking back up the stairs. One leg up, he leans forward. "Don't do this to him. Please. He's been through Hell and back. Let me talk to him. Please. Let me back on the carrier for an hour."

Marching through the room at a brisk pace, Samtara violates personal space protocol and grabs ahold of Knox's arm in a grip that is anything but polite or gentle. "SOMEONE," she says, at volume, "who is a professional. Who knows what she's doing. Who is NOT emotionally COMPROMISED because she counted him more as a friend than as a patient. Who is a neurosurgeon with more training and education in this area than I have. More experience than I have in this field than I have ever wanted. Someone who actually LIKES people, and is genuine about that. Someone who can actually HELP instead of having to sedate him and lock him down so that he can't harm himself OR OTHERS in his attempt to complete his goal of self harm." She gives his arm, or at least her grip on his arm, a good shake, "I asked the expert that I have on hand to help. Because I - can't - help - him - myself," she spaces those words are clearly apart and defined as a statement as it gets. "Do you think I'm here because this is some sort of lollygag day trip? I can't help him. Maybe you can. Maybe you can't. I don't KNOW. And the sheer tonnage of what I don't know is contributing to all of this. Don't tell me what I can't do, damn it, when I already KNOW what I can't do and instead, help me help him."

Knox turns with the grab. But rather than react, he stares right back at her. She can see the same look in his eyes that she's probably seen in Lleufer's face. "You're frakking neurosurgeon can poke and prod but unless he or she, or YOU, have been in the fight? You can't fix it." Knox turns off his leg and faces her in the bunker. "She LIKES people? Good for frakkin her." Coop steps right into her face. "You want someone to talk to a Marine about what they've seen then your frakkin shrink better have been there. Have they ever felt blood in their hands? Have they ever failed in their job and seen the cost right up front? No I bet not." Cooper stares into her face. "Put me on a trsapsort. Now. I'm done talking about him. I need to talk to him. Gag me, blindfold me, I don't give a frak. I'm done being nice, Doctor. This happens right now or not at all."

"You think you're the only ones who have lost people they have been specifically tasked with saving? You think you're the only ones who fight and watch people die anyway? How many death certificates do you think I've signed since the start of this war, how many letters do you think I have put in personnel files, how many grieving friends and colleagues and loved ones I have, personally, had to deliver the words 'I'm sorry for your loss' to. How many soldiers do you think I have personally lost on the table, because i couldn't get to them in time? How much blood has to be on my hands before you grasp the concept that we're all in this together?" Sam jabs one fingertip at Knox, "I don't deal in ultimatums. I came here, SPECIFICALLY, because I personally believe that you can help Leu when he reaches the point that he can actually HEAR what we are saying. When he's reached a point where he isn't in such an emotional morass that none of us can reach him in a way that will actually help." Again that jab, "I had to body check him to keep him from assaulting someone in a bar fight, and he was as willing to harm me as not to get up and keep on fighting." Again that jab, "For that matter, it IS important that she actually cares. Because not every damn problem can be solved with a bloody hammer! If you won't shut up and LISTEN to why I came here then you're no where near as astute as I've believed all this time. Help me help him and stop trying to march around and," she steps back and waves one hand in a vague gesture, "be all more marine than thou."

It's a fight. A serious internal fight. For every poke that he gets, Knox looks more and more like he wants to lay her out. The anger and indignity. It rages across his face, but the guy doesn't lash out. He just stares back at the Doctor with pure anger. In the moment, though, she can see something. Even if she denies him - she knows it. This Six doesn't care about rules. He will defy her and find his way aboard. "This is not a pissing contest, Doctor. I am talking about your Doctor's ability to know what it's like. And you put it to surgery. This is about a Marine." His eyes look absolutely lethal. "I'm sure she cares but unless she has been there then she has no frakkin clue. If you mean what you say about helping him then put me on a Raptor right now." He steps back and starts pulling off the fest of his tools and gear. "Let's go. Because if you don't allow me back then I'm taking a Raptor back on my own."

Samtara makes a sound of annoyance, "If we go up in a raptor right now, I'm going to throw up on you," she doesn't so much threaten this as state it as a plain fact. "I came here, for your help. And yes, you idiot, you are coming back with me. You won't be able to see him right off the bat because no, he's not ready for that, and No, I am NOT his attending physician at this precise point in time. Which, I might remind, I told you, already, back before you decided that I have somehow lost my ability to assign the best person for the job at hand. Thanks, by the by, for the vote of confidence. And knock off the 'I could kill you with my lethal glare' look. I treat marines for a living," she reminds, "and you're all alike, from first to last." She sucks in a breath, "Mule headed. Stubborn. Rocks. All of you. Now get your head out of your ass and focus on what I'm actually saying. Has the major made you aware of any of the unusual activity on Pireaus? If you haven't been read in then I have to come at this from another angle."

Knox stares back, saying nothing for several looong seconds. "I'm not a Doctor, Doctor. I don't know what your best judgment is when it comes to things like this." The emotion in his eyes is real. Cooper is angry and worried. Every single unmeasurable pound is there, feet to neck. "I'm not going to apologize. Yeah, I'm a mule-headed asshole. Whatever. I don't care what you call me. If you're really here for this reason then I'm guilty of everything if it gets me home to Lleu." The guy strips off the rest of his gear down to his plain green dungarees. "Yeah, the Major said some shit about how the skinjobs have something happen with Piraeus." Coop steps up to the outside on the trmac and looks down. "I don't want to go to P. Can we go, sir?"

Following Knox out to the tarmac, and chiefly so that she can get some fresh air that isn't making her almost gag, Sam aims a long look up at Knox in return. "He only mentioned the reaction that the specific Nine had on planet, but nothing else?" she pairs this with another of those looks that's beyond annoyance. "You aren't guilty of anything. You haven't done anything. We are trying to help him. You are going to be part of that. Pay attention," she doesn't actually jab at him again but it's a near thing. Someone needs to try to sleep sometime in the next twenty four hours, apparently, as her professional manners are slipping. "Is that all he mentioned?"

Coop steps up outside the bunker and looks back after he has a few feet from the sandbags. The MP's stand at a distance but watch him closely, considering he look angry. "Who gives a shit about the Nine?!" Knox lifts his voice with it as he looks back at her. "Why?!" He stares at her a moment before he starts walking towards th flightline. The Marine MP's follow him and looks to Samtara for a cue. "What does it matter what he mentioned? Yes, our people go to P and we get an awakening! No, I don't know anything else and I don't particularly care." Knox turns and looks back to her. Meanwhile Raptors land and other s wait for transport. The whine of engines run all around them. "Nothing else matters to me right now, Doctor. Will you grant me transport or not?"

"Because there is something on planet that is interacting with the humans that are settled there, and they're doing something that sounds a hell of a lot like projection when they communicate with our personnel!" Sam shouts this in return before she checks herself, visibly, and steps back and paces a good couple of feet away, hands curled into fists as she forces herself through a breathing exercise. It isn't fast, and it isn't pretty, and through the sound of the engines and the smell of the fuel and all the bloody noise, it takes longer than ideal but she reins it back in enough to hammer enough of her own issues back into the neatly labeled box they belong in and try again. "Leu has been through a lot, and not all of it is combat related. He interacted with these what ever they are on planet, and the experience . . weighs on him. He interacted with Tamsin, and she shared projection with him as well. He also, and I'm putting decent money on this, is the one that was assigned the task of executing Naomi so that she could download and infect her line by doing so. Which, again, weighs on him. There are a lot of variables in play, Knox, and acting like a bull in a china shop isn't getting us there any faster. Yes, I grant you transport; so flag down who ever and get that ball rolling and listen to what I'm saying."

Knox walks for a second. A second. The guys stops blood cold in his tracks and turns. When he turns, his eyes look right on Samtara. The guy is locked into an apprehensize state. Hands lain slack, he looks more in shock than anything. The look on his face… the guy looks like he barely hears anything about Lleu. For long, loooong seconds he just stares at Sam. Almost like he knew. Or knows. But regardless, he didn't actually know. What she said seems to have completely taken him off-guard. Every bit of aggressive energy seems to have stopped. In a single instance, Sergeant Cooper Knox has been put into a pause mode. "Okay." He looks back to the Raptors on the tarmac, then back to Samtara. "I'm sorry." A long breath leaves him and he puts his arms out.

The MP's around him seem to have come closer to watch him.

"I, uh-" and the guys looks conflicted. "I just want to see Lleu. Bring me back after. Please. I have a lot of questions but really I just want to see the Sergeant." His voice has gone back low and quiet. "Nothing more. We can talk about the rest later. Agreed?" His arms are still held out. "You can be there. I just want to talk to him, Doctor. Please."

Sam turns toward the nearest of the MP's, "We need to get a raptor ready, and we need to depart, now. Someone get me a damned air sick bag," she adds, not even remotely kidding about that, either, before she turns back to Knox. What she sees in his expression is making her own expression keep shifting between a look of apprehension then worry, back around to a fine edge of fear and back again around to worry in an endless mix of emotions that she struggles, visibly, to keep in check. While the MP's do what ever it is that they need to do to make this happen, Sam unhooks the kit from her side and searches through the contents until finding the blister pack of motion sick meds and calmly doses herself, chasing both with a swallow of tepid water from the canteen at her side.

"We'll link up with Dr. Forrester once we get there, and if Leu is not sedated, she will tell you whether or not it's safe to speak with him. I'm not using that word lightly. Safe. For his over all mental state. For his long term and short term recovery. Safe, so that we make sure that everything we do from here on forward is in his best, possible, interest. I cannot adequately stress the importance of ensuring the safety of his mental state and that is key. Everything else is everything else, and we'll sort that once we get this step … sorted."

She pauses and fixes a look at Knox that is almost, but not quite, a look of almost amusement. "Don't use the lethal eye look at Forrester, if you don't mind. It might make her want to do a personality profile on you and psychoanalyze you into compartmentalized categories that may include multiple choice and ink blots." She shakes her head as she watches the work to prep the Raptor that has apparently been tasked with the return trip. "Right." The kit is clipped back in place, and she nods toward the Raptor and starts walking, "And I won't actually throw up on you, at least, not on purpose. Keep that last part in mind, alright? The not on purpose part."

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