Gunny's Ward
Gunny's Ward
Summary: Micah draws Desusa's attention. D'art sets the ground rules. Snatch watches.
Date: 33 ACH
Related Logs: None

Locale: Recovery Ward…where all the cool kids hang out!

Desusa has been here for quite some visiting a marine that was injured in the PAS evac. "I'll see you around, Cap," says Desusa as he slides the partition curtain open. He takes a casual look around and sees Micah reading, "Afternoon, Ensign."

Snatch has arrived.

D'Artanion has arrived.

Micah had lifted his eyes briefly at the sound of a curtain sliding across rails, then lowers them again just as Desusa spots him. "Major," he returns crisply, flipping a page in his magazine. There are photographs of skiers performing complex aerial maneuvers. One might even call them superbly talented.

Desusa slides the curtain of the marine he was visiting back to is private position. "How's your colleague doing?" asks Raul as he looks to Nov's gurney. Last time he saw her, she was having a talk with the morpha king.

Snatch sneaks in before shift, a brief encounter with the swimming hole yesterday ensuring an engine snipe relatively free of grime lurking among those recovering. She chews on her tongue, poking it into her cheek as she regards Micah from a distance. He seems busy, though, so she doesn't butt in.

"She's doin' fine, sir," replies the pilot carefully. His study of Desusa is brief, and offered over the top of his magazine before he thumbs to the next page. The other Ensign in question, is likely dozing currently, though the two of them look to have recuperated quite well.

"Glad to hear it," replies Desusa in that noncommittal tone of his, as he begins to walk closer to Nov's resting place. He stares at her for sometime now, not uttering a single word.

The door to the private room opens and two people exit. The door closes and Craven hurries off to do whatever it is that Craven's do when not in the recovery room. D'Artanion flickers a glance up the way toward the folk talking. She takes in Desusa where he stands near Micah and Novella's beds. A frown begins, though she does not comment directly. Instead, she turns to begin her rounds. Checking blood pressure, temperature and all. She notes Snatch and the engineer is given a quick smile.

Snatch doesn't have much of anything to say, taking an uncertain step toward Micah's spot in the ward, then turning aside to let a nurse head past. She's managing her way along, and as D'artanion heads by she moves again to get out of the way before she notices the smile and recognizes the medic, locking eyes briefly and giving an upward tip of her chin in quiet greeting. "Y'ns all got yer hainds full down in 'ere," she remarks. A commonplace, but sympathetically uttered.

Flip flip. Pause. Micah lowers his magazine, and turns his head slightly to follow the Major approaching Novella's bed. And he's silent for a few beats, gaze intent. Maybe there's something brewing in there, maybe not; there's a brief look in Snatch's direction when he catches some of that distinctive voice, but turns back to Desusa for now. "She probably wouldn't have stood a chance, if we were down there another day." And though he doesn't say it, it can probably be inferred that he wouldn't have, either. Those were two frakked up pilots.

Desusa nods slowly without taking his eyes off Novella, "Probably not." For a few more seconds, that is all he says as he looks at the monitors tied to the female pilot's body. He passes a hand over his bald head ending with a rub on the back of his neck, "Neither of you could have resisted much longer, but fortune shined upon you." He looks over to D, as she does her rounds.

D'Artanion nods to Snatch, "Yeah, pretty much. Oh, hey. Thanks for bringing the Lieutenant back the other day. Don't know how she wandered off." She glances at a closed privacy screen, "She's in there. Will be for another day or two." Her glance drifts to Desusa and the pilots. She nods a greeting, "Major." Then, her attention returns to the patient she is checking.

"Oh— shore als," Snatch waves off the deed, once D'Artanion brings it to mind. "Ain't no call fer lost lambs wannerin' in an' out on the deck whilst-times we'ns trah'na git them canott back paitched togither," she remarks further. "She'n gone be awright?"

Micah turns back to his magazine, and flips the page again briskly. There's a sound of one of the pages tearing, maybe his teeth gritting together a little. "Hope it was worth it. Sir." Quietly muttered, that. Though there's no mistaking the trace of acidity in his voice; whether out of respect or something else, he doesn't elucidate beyond that.

Desusa pans back to Micah and a brow is lofted, "I beg your pardon, St. Germain?" His tone not at all venomous like Micah's, but still tinted with some slight dislike.

Micah wouldn't be Micah, if he wasn't disliked. He rests the magazine on his lap when Desusa turns back to him, and lifts his chin so he's watching the man squarely. He almost meets his eyes. "I said, I hope it was worth it, sir." There's a dogged look about him at the moment.

A chuckle begins and D'Artanion looks up at Snatch, "She'll be fine… We'll probably let her go later today, actually. The bump on her head was only a mild concussion. Non't as bad as it seemed and the burns were essentially superficial. She was mostly disoriented. Still, you are right. We need to keep our lambs here until they are ready to go again." The conversation Desusa and Micah are having is monitored, though she does not move yet to interrupt.

Desusa clasps his hands behind his back and paces towards Micah, "I heard you perfectly the first time, Ensign, but what I want to know, is what you mean by it." Desusa's eyes never leave Micah. D and Snatch can keep to their affairs still. No one is trying to strangle Micah with his own IV line. Nope.

The pilot's jaw sets a little as Desusa approaches, and his chin lifts a smidgeon higher. If he were on his feet, it's safe to say he'd be standing at flawless attention. "Nothin' that ah'm privy to discuss here, sir," he replies, briefly skirting his eyes toward the Major's, before coming to rest somewhere to the left of his face again.

Snatch hmms in a mild note of interest at the recounting of the Lieutenant's wounds. "Than's good," she replies, "Than's good." She looks over to Micah and his visitor, as well. "How's hin?" she asks quietly of Micah.

"What? You can't talk about something that upsetting you without throwing a fit?" asks Raul as he studies the man a bit further. "Come on, Ensign, get it off your chest," says the marine.

Micah's lips curve in a slow smirk as he looks away from the man, and for a moment idly watches Snatch and the other Marine conversing in the background. "You left us to die down there, sir. I was wonderin' if it was worth it t'you. If you stand by your decision. Or maybe if it's kept you up at night. I sure as frak hope it has."

"Oh. So that's it, huh?" Desusa snickers sarcastically and adds, "You had me going there, son, I figured it was something more important. Say like, 'I am upset because I think I screwed up big time, and me and my buddy Rycard managed to destroy two very valuable assets'." He continues to snicker as he shakes his head, "Ensign, If any, the only thing keeping me up at night is wondering why I let the CAG bring with her two of the worst pilots on the fleet to Leonis." He wants to rally Desusa up, he better be ready to recieve the same from him."

D'Artanion licks her lips slightly, her gaze flickering to Micah, "Feisty, actually." Turning, she glances at the two men, then looks back to Snatch. "Excuse me a moment, please?" Turning, she walks toward the conversing gentlemen. Her gaze is steady, steps sure and there is an air of confidence about her that is probably new to Desusa. Inclining her head to him, she speaks softly, "Major? This is hardly the time or the place for a discussion such as this. If you can not keep from antagonizing my patients, sir, I will ask you to leave." Turning to Micah, she gives him a 'look'. It is one of those patented 'cut it out' looks that medical professionals everywhere know how to do. It's in a class they are required to take. Then, as the Major begins his tirade, something happens. The woman's tone drops to a chill authority that speaks clearly of an anger that goes absolutely bone deep. She turns back to the man and speaks quietly, her eyes snapping, "I do not give a frak about your personal opinions about these fine servicemen, sir, but I do care mightily about their recovery. One more word in that tone or vein and I will see you out. Is that perfectly clear? Sir?"

It's just as well that D'Artanion steps in, as a certain Ensign is teetering dangerously close to a career-ending move right about then. How quickly could he be tearing out of that bed and crossing the few paces to Desusa in order to deck him? And how fast would he be airlocked after that? Fast enough, no doubt, to make his head spin. Physically biting his tongue to keep the growl that surfaces, mostly muted, he turns away from the Major and focuses his steely gaze on the wall adjacent. His hands are fisted hard enough to leave marks in the palms.

Snatch releases the medic from the half-conversation with a premising 'hm,' and shifts her weight onto her right foot, relieving her left leg, which is complaining over last night's antics, a bit. She's not going to get involved, though.

Desusa stops his snickering, as D steps-up to demand order in her ward. The marine's eye narrow at Micah, "I-I…" he sighs deeply and regains his composure, fixing his tunic.”I am sorry, Gunnery Sergeant. My apologies." He slowly steps back from Micah's gurney and proceeds to move out. A small nod is given to Snatch as he approaches the exit.

D'Artanion's gaze never leaves Desusa's as he regains composure. She nods at his apology and turns to watch as he moves out, "Thank you, sir." Turning back to face Micah, she speaks softly, her voice measured, "As for you, Ensign… Please try to remember that, while a combat decision might seem fracked clear to Hades and back, neigher you nor I have the experience to make them. We get to assume that the Major had a good and reasonable reason for ignoring the tenant that says 'leave no one behind'. He had a terrible decision to make and he made it. Even if we do not agree with that call, it is above our pay grade to make it. If you and the Major can't find a way to work together, I'll recommend a boxing match down the road when you are both healed up and fit. For now…" She draws in a slow breath and releases it, "You are in my care and I will see to it that you are left alone. However, to facilitate things and keep me from getting prematurely grey, I'd take it as a personal kindness if you would keep your opinions to yourself. If you won't do it as a favor, I'll make it an order. Clear?"

Micah doesn't move, doesn't speak during that lecture of D'Artanion's. The anger's still there, no mistake about it, but it isn't directed at the Gunnery Sergeant. Not at the moment, anyway. "Aye," he murmurs when she's finished, and follows Desusa's departure with one blue eye and one green eye, both glittering with fury. "Perfectly clear."

Desusa opens the door that leads into the recovery ward, and steps out.

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