Messed up Mess
Messed up Mess
Summary: Eli brings Gars mess. Mess gets eaten. Mess gets said. Nobody gets Messy. And Eli doesn't use her taser yet.
Date: 24 ACH
Related Logs: All the ones since Gars got in trouble again

Main Brig Genesis - Deck 14
24 ACH 6735 Souls
The Main Brig is for the enlisted personnel that are in lock-up. A guard and a desk is here along with three cells. Each cell has steel bars across the front. There is a single bunk, a toilet and a light above. Security camera's are also in place here and the guard rotates out every four hours.
----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-
Contents: Eli Gars Brig Status Security Camera

Exits: [O] Corridor

Special: +detail - Details available

Eli doesn't have to be here, she really doesn't. Entering the brig with two other MPs flanking her, one carrying a tray of food and the other moving away upon a silent order via hand motion from Eli. She too is holding a tray, eyeing the little bowl and the bit of gruel like stuff and the experimental eel…murky soup? Curry? Gloop? Who knows. It is on the tray though, therefore the cell is being unlocked under guard so the tray can be put on the little 'HERE IS YOUR FOOD' place before the MPs move off and Eli drags a chair in front of the cell, which happens to be Gars's, setting down with her own tray on her lap. Nothing. At all is said.

Gars is resting in his bunk, and as the food is brought forth, he sits up. As Eli pulls up a chair, he quirks an eyebrow, seeming somewhat suspicious even. Getting out of the bunk, he heads on over to the offered meal. "Feeling lonely, sergeant?" he asks as he walks on over to the bars of his cell.

"I'm never lonely, I always have Betty." Eli finally replies after mixing some gruel with some eel…gloop and stirring slowly and thoughtfully. "You gonna eat Corporal, or not? It is still uh…mostly fresh and hot. You're one lucky person, I don't think there are any eyes or guts in it."

Gars eyes Eli at first, and then the food. Taking the plate, he then heads on over to his bunk where he takes a seat. "So" he then says as he begins poking in the meal with the fork. "What's the occasion?".

Eli idly cracks her neck and shoves the first spoon full of mess into her mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing. There is a pause before she keeps eating, quietly even after the question is asked. A couple of minutes pass before she finally replies. "Until I find out otherwise, you're still a corporal in the marine corp and the marines are a brotherhood, not a one man show. You can't head to the mess to eat with other marines so I brought some mess to you." A pause. "I mean the…the mess to you." She eyes her food dubiously and continues to eat.

Gars pokes some in the food and then eventually takes a bite. His face doesnt change as he chews and swallows, almost as if he's had worse… much worse even. Looking on over at Eli, his mouth full of food, he simply listens. As he swallows, he takes a moment to clear his mouth with his tongue of any remaining pieces of food or sauce. "Sergeant…" he eventually says, "People who have seen combat together share a common bond. That is the brotherhood. Anything else is propaganda to make people join the Corps. You see, I dont give a frak about recon, or artillery, or armor… I give a damn about my squad, my platoon and my company. About the men around me. That's all there is. Don't let propaganda get to you, Sergeant… It aint worth a damn these days."

Eli's jaw sets as she eats and she's even listening, nodding slowly before finally replying. "Corporal." She wipes her mouth with the back of a hand, arching an eyebrow. "You may not…give a frak about all the rest of the stuff, but…you know when you have to take apart a gun? It isn't just the bullet that makes it work, or the trigger. Every single component is needed to make that gun work right. And then without the people who actually make the guns, we wouldn't have guns and then uh…we'd be frakked so that's beyond the point." She waves a hand vaguely before eating some more 'mess'. "Every military person on this ship has a duty to lay down their own lives to protect or defend or avenge all the ones that have or will or could be lost. We're a family now. Even more than before."

"Sergeant" Gars says with a sigh, as if he's heard speaches like this all too often from people who havent seen enough people die around them. Stiring his food, he gives his reply, "It's about trust. Plain and simple. I dont give a frak about who builds my gun; If needs be I will kill with my hands. It's about trusting the man next to you, and him trusting you in turn. You earn that trust by surviving enoug shit together. By loosing friends together. Killing together. You and him, or her, being out there in the face of enemy fire together. That is brotherhood. But then, our omnipotent and brilliant officers likes to flaunt this hard earned brotherhood, and have it broadcasted far and wide that the Corps is all about bonding and being a proper little soldier… Well, sergeant… In war, there are no soldiers… Only killers. Cold hearted, bloody killers. A marine wishes for one thing and one thing only… To kill the enemy. That sound like a sane mind to you? Hell, nine out of ten marines join the corps to either avoid jail, or get the chance to shoot somebody. The Corps aint some social club, sergeant. Marines are not nice people, and the only way to earn a marines trust, is to go into combat with them. That's how shit works, sergeant, when you're in war. I dont know how you MP's work shit out, but regular Marines, we frak shit up for a living."

"Nobody trusts you Corporal." Eli finally replies, eating in between words and shaking her head. "Which is why you're a security risk and a threat to every other marine." She shrugs. "But for now, you are still a Marine so I'll show you the respect even if you don't have it for anybody you don't deem worthy…that a fellow military individual deserves." She sighs. "And maybe that is how people from your colony think. But I was a regular marine before I was an MP and my job wasn't to frak shit up." Her jaw clenches before she relaxes slowly. "It was to be on the front line, fighting and watching friends and bunk mates die so that people who weren't in the military could live. If the only thing you can think and wish for is to kill the enemy? Then you come across as no better than a Cylon, Corporal, and that's really frakkin' sad. Cuz with your record and your skills you really could've been an asset. But I doubt we'll ever know cuz you can't humble yourself enough to realize that in order to have people to trust? People have to trust you." She sighs and continues eating. "But does that matter now? No."

"I joined to avoid trouble with the law, sergeant" Gars grumbles. "Killing was never a reason for it. But I've known plenty of marines who joined for that single reason. Now, you may not like it, but that is the truth of it. And that propaganda bullshit you're talking about… That works on recruits and civilians. And if you still believe in that, being a sergeant… Well, a small mind is easily filled with faith, as my old school teacher used to say. You wanna believe in the myth about the Corps, you go on right ahead. But as for my respect, and me giving you the chance to respect me… I went into combat with an incompetent unit, and was asked to fall back due to medical reasons, which was a FUBAR order considering the situation. And frankly, this ship seems a bit too horny to let MP's sort out their problems. Seems like no-one has the balls to man-up, but must call in the MP's at any sign of trouble. Not impressive, and any marine out of the Hoplon would laugh at you and then frak you silly."

"Did you create the Marine Corps?" Eli asks simply.

"No, sergeant, I didn't" Gars says and takes another bite from the food, chews and swallows. "But they created me" he then says, "and a whole other lot of bastards. Some deserved to die, others didn't, but they did. And here I am… Locked up… Either getting shot or kicked out." He sighs and shakes his head, poking in his food once more. "Just because brass dont think Im fit for soldiering. Well…" he then looks on over at Eli, "Im more fit for combat than any other motherfrakker on this ship, and the Gods can frakking quote me on that, sergeant."

Eli just grimaces and looks Gars over through the bars, setting her spoon down and running her fingers through her hair. "Physically yes. But mentally? You're a mess, Corporal." She does look a bit disappointed. "It is a shame though, cuz you're one helluva shot."

"And what do you know about that, sergeant?" Gars says. "You've followed me into combat recently? You seen me give orders?"

"I know you don't respect your fellow marines or any other person on this ship." Eli shrugs. "It isn't all about combat or orders. And so mentally, no."

Gars keeps his eyes on Eli for a moment before he responds. "There are some I respect, sergeant. Master Sergeants and Sergeant Majors, simply because they have earned their rank by crawling through shit for 20 years. I respect that Lance Corporal, whats her face, who had the balls to stand up and take a swing, and not letting some frakhead mouth off to her. That earns my respect, sergeant; to Man-Up. But calling in MP's at the first sign of trouble, or when you feel hurt… That's pathetic and shows poor leadership skills, if you ask me, and those people will get marines killed. And I've seen it too many times to be comfortable with it."

"Mmhm. The MPs are here to keep order. Chaos doesn't win wars." Eli replies. "But the rules are there for a reason. You break 'em, you pay. We don't all have time to earn your respect by punching you in the face. And we shouldn't have to. We are /property/ of the Colonial military. Not gods amongst ourselves."

"You know what I would have done" Gars says as he places his plate to the side, "if I had still been Staff and two marines was about to be at each others throats? I would have taken them to the gym and let them sort it out, man to man. I would not have called in the MP's for something simple as agitated marines itching for a fight. Let them duke it out and sort it out. End of story and leave it at that. Show them you trust them to be in my unit, that I will not let some frakking simple argument become a stain on their record. The unit deals with its own problems, cos it strengthens that bond you seem to cherrish so much, sergeant. Its all part of the brotherhood."

Eli just gets to her feet, taking her tray with her and nodding firmly. "Indeed." Then she turns on her heel and makes her way out.

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