Green and mean!
Green and mean!
Summary: Desusa finally gets Gars to commit.
Date: 14 ACH
Related Logs: Marine brass and NCOs dont Mix.

Locale: Genesis's main brig

In Cell number 2, you'll find Master Sergeant Viktor Farkas. The old veteran doesn’t seem to bothered by being in the brig, and dressed in his sweats he is working out.
Doss and Mercer are both sleeping.

Having removed his jacket and left it on the bed, Gars is down on the floor in Cell 3, doing push-ups; sweat dripping from his face, soaking his t-shirt. Knuckles against the hard flooring, his biceps are trembling under the skin as he pushes his arms to the limit. A hint of red is visible on his face as hes strength is all but spent on the exercise.

Desusa spins the hatch that opens up the main brig and enters. The MP here snaps to attention and salutes the marine officer, "As you where," says Desusa with a stern voice. The desk sergeant drops his salute and sits back down, "Sir," has asks, as Raul walks over to the desk. "Here to see Corporal Gars," he leans down and fills out the log book of visits, and the MP points his pen to the appropriate cell.

Gars is down on a knee, leaning up against his bed as he catches his breath, wiping sweat from his face with the length of his arm. In only the t-shirt, the exposed arms bares witness to Gars' past experiences; tatoos and vicious scars are on display, healed burns, furrowed and uneven scars from cuts and shrapnel. The arms almost a tribute to the missions he has survived. Pushing himself up onto the bed, straightening his stiff leg, Gars lets out a deep breath as he slowly regains stamina after the punishing exercise, chest heaving under his soaked t-shirt.

Desusa looks to where the pen is pointed to and nods. His hands clasp behind his back, as he moves to stand firmly in front of the cell. "Corporal," greets the captain, as he watches the man come back from his exercise. His face shows no expression as his dark eyes focus on Gars.

The Old Veteran doesn’t even pause in his training, he continues his sit-ups and manages to catch a glimpse of the Captain now and then as he rises up. One moment he is there and the next there is only ceiling and then he is back. Always present is the bars, but it is not the first time those are present.

Gars looks up, panting as his body tries to fill the blood with oxygen. "Captain, sir" he says and then, with some effort, gets on his feet and stands at attention as best he can despite the leg and exhaustion.

Desusa eyes the man for a few longer seconds, "Do you enjoy making me take trips to this shithole of a brig, Corporal?" His eyes narrow a bit as he waits for a reply.

Farkas pauses in his sit-ups in the upper position to look at the people conversing, at the mention of shithole and brig used in the same sentence but then he continues his workout.

"Sir, no, sir" Gars says, ever standing at attention, eyes locked on the wall behind Desusa. "In truth, I don’t know why I am even here, captain, sir" he then adds, his breathing beginning to calm down, if only by a notch or two.

"You're damned right I don’t!" Prompts Desusa in a louder voice, "This place is for idiots and mutherfrakkers with an IQ of room temperature!" The marine captain frowns deeper and continues, "Now listen, and listen to me good, Gars. You no longer have control of anything on your gods forsaken world," a small pause, "The next questions I am gonna ask will help me determine if I let you sit here for a few more days and heal, or if I drum you out of my Corps. You dig, mutherfrakker!?" Safe to say, that Zeus is pissed.

"Sir, Yes, Sir!" Gars calls out loud and clear as if back at Basics. "Understood, Sir!"

Farkas grits his teeth and ends his training exercise. The old man slowly gets up on his feet, wipes his face with the towel as he sits down upon his bunk.

Desusa grunts to acknowledge Gars's reply. "Are you an element of the badest mutherfrakkin' battalion in this universe, and are aching to show your fellow marines you are committed to the extermination of the tin cans, Hu ah!?" yells Raul.

"Sir, Yes, Sir! Hooah!" Gars replies with stern conviction, standing at strict attention, dripping with sweat.

Desusa offers nothing to Gars's answer. "The officers above you, naval or marine, may know shit about explosives, but if they ask you to jump over a grenade, the only question on your mind should be how many lives you are saving, hu ah!?" screams out Raul once more, as he now begins pacing in front of the cell. His eyes falls shortly over Farkas, but return quickly to Gars.

"Sir, Yes, Sir!" Gars repeats, face stern and posture rigid as he stands at attention.

The Pandora's CO stops his pacing, snaps his boot's heels together before turning to face Gars, "You are to finish out you term here, then, report to the quartermasters to pickup some cleaning utensil. You scrub the marine head until you receive a clean bill from medical." His tone has downed some, but its still very much audible to anyone here. "And a bonus, you are to attend at least one session with our Psy officer, Hu ah?"

"The shrink, sir?" Gars says, raising an eyebrow. "What for, captain?"

Desusa lofts a brow, "Because I said so, Corporal." His hands fold in front of him, "If I am gonna take flak from letting you stay in this ship, Gars, I need to be darn sure there aren’t any spiders on the block you call a head."

"Understood, sir" Gars says, ever remaining at attention, eyes aimed at the far wall of the brig. "May I ask, captain, why I am in here? As I recall, a certain captain abused her rank in sending me here after starting a pissing contest she lost."

Desusa continues to look at Gars and says, "You are here, cause you where dumb enough to be drawn into an argument with a superior. I got the report, Gars. I didn't see the part where she 'dragged you into the pissing contest', as you put it, anywhere." He shakes his head and adds, "/You/ should have known better, marine."

"I wasn’t dragged in, sir." Gars says. "But I damn well didn’t back down when my ability in the field was questioned. I’m a Marine, captain; I don’t back down, I step up. She started a pissing contest and I finished it. And the sulking bitch decided to pull rank when she had nothing to put up against the Corp, sir. She proved what every Marine already knows; Pilots are pussies. She went down that road I followed; when I ran past she got pissed and pulled rank. I'd say that is abuse of authority. If you start a pissing contest, be prepared to get splashed on, if not… Then shut the frakk up. If you don’t mind me saying so, sir."

Desusa eyes the marine. "Corporal, what you should have done, is hold your dick and shut the frak up." He shakes his head and grunts, "The marine colors won't get any less green just cause a pilot decides to show off, and the memory of our fellow dead won't be honored if we can't keep our cool to different mentalities, Corporal. Can we agree on that?"

"With all due respect, captain" Gars says and for the first time takes his eyes from the wall to face Desusa. "The Corps I joined stood up for the colors, the banners and the dead in her service, and let none take a piss or shit on any of them. That's what I did on the observation-deck, sir, and I wont let anyone doubt that our Corps is a brotherhood of a select few of ultimate badasses… Sir."

The captain's eyes lock on Gars as he lets him say his piece. "I selected the best for my missions, and you came highly recommended, Gars, but if you can't show better judgment on situations like this, and understand the basics of the command chain, I begin to question my choices." He yells out, "Eyes over my shoulder, marine!" He waits for Gars do as instructed.

Gars eyes turn away and burn holes in the far wall the instant Desusa calls out the order. "Sir!" he says as his face grows stern, "I was assigned here due to my combat record, sir! Not to make friends, sir. I bleed for a living, sir; I am not paid to spread happy feelings. If you want a Marine that can get the job done in the field and get your enlisted back home alive, then I’m your man, sir!"

"Fine muttherfrakker, then you will show me that my choice was perfect by doing your time here and keeping you frakkin' ideals for yourself, and not plastered on some poor ensign's face, hu ah?" Raul screams to get his point across. Let's hope it sinks on Gars.

"Hooah, captain, sir!" Gars calls out, standing at stricter attention still.

Desusa nods for once in this whole conversation. The ball is on Gars court now, so, let’s hope he can keep his nose clean. "Hu ah," yells Desusa to his subordinate. "I want to see a clean bill of health on that leg, ASAP," says the marine captain as he turns heal to leave.

"Consider it done, captain! Marines all the way! Hooah!" Gars calls out loud and clear, not dropping his attention until Desusa will leave the brig.

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