[B-Deck] Meetings, Patch Ups, & Downtime

[Furby, J.]

After he had relinquished his gear and equipment, Jayson wrapped his arm around Private Wilkas's waist and carefully guided her towards the nearest elevator. The trip was slow, and eventually she draped her arm over his shoulder and used him to help support her own weight while keeping pressure off of her wounded ankle. When they reached an elevator, Furby led her inside and had her lean against the wall while he pressed the button to make the elevator ascend to the Crew Deck.

The ride up was rather short and uneventful. The lift came to a stop and the doors parted way with an audible snik. Again, Wilkas wrapped her arm around Jayson's shoulder, and he guided her through the passageways towards the infirmary. "So, Wilkas," Furby started in an attempt to conversate, "how'd you manage to hurt your ankle, exactly?" His words weren't meant to tease her or anything; he was just genuinely curious.

A few moments later, after turning down another corridor, the pair reached the infirmary. Furby helped Wilkas through the door and then he asked the receptionist behind the desk in front of them for a nurse to take Wilkas to a room. The woman, a Navy petty officer, nodded and called a nurse over the intercom. Seconds later a man in dull blue scrubs appeared with a wheel chair, the rank insignia on his sleeve denoting him as a crewman apprentice.

Furby helped Wilkas into the wheel chair and followed the nurse as he wheeled her into an empty room. Jayson stopped at the door, unsure of whether or not he was allowed to be in the room with her or not. "Can I help you?" the nurse asked.

Furby sort of shrugged. "Can I stay with her or do I gotta wait in reception?"

The nurse seemed to contemplate his query for a matter of a second before answering. "You can stay with her. Just don't get in the doctor's way."

Nodding, Furby said, "Thank you." The nurse turned around and informed Wilkas that the doctor would be around to see her shortly, then abruptly left. Jayson stepped into the room and took seat in one of the rather uncomfortable looking chairs beside the bed Wilkas was laying in. "Knowing how hospitals work, I imagine you'll be waiting on the Doc for awhile," he said with a grin. "So, what caused you to join the Big Green Machine?"

[Wilkas, G.]

Grace lent against the wall, grateful for Furby's assistance. She contemplated his question for a short while, she of course knew the answer, why wouldn't she? A dodgy landing when jumping from Pelican to Spaceship. Not exactly a glorious way to find one's self in the need for medical attention. With a sigh, she explained it to him. "You know when we where deploying to the other ship? I landed awkwardly and did something to it, probably twisted it".
Soon they arrived in the infirmary, a nurse arrived with a wheelchair. Grace thought she did not need one yet... No one argues with the guys and gals in charge of the medicine. At the very least Grace wasn't about to, especially when she needed their assistance. 

The bed, surprisingly was comfortable, or comfortable to those who are used to army bunks and cryotubes. The latter Grace desired to avoid for the rest of her life in possible. Though she doubted highly that as a marine, she would be able to escape those machines for long. 
"For me it was less of join more you have joined" Grace replied wearily. "I am a conscript had a letter addressed to me come through the door and boom... Here I am RTO, UNSC Marine". She did not sound too pleased about that. "It beats being a university drop out though I get paid this way". She laughed lightly, though her eyes glimmered with sadness of the life at home she missed.

"Why'd you join up?" She questioned, shaking her head as if to rid herself of bothersome thoughts. Grace more than likely if given the choice never would have joined the UNSC, she wasn't exactly a born marine, not like some of the people shared her boot camp with. Some of those marines would go far in the UNSC, but Grace? She really didn't want a career in the marines, no offence to them but she possessed her own plans. One of which involved her getting through university, this in turn would require for the war to be won yet also for her to survive the rest of the conflict. Something she hoped that she'd succeed at.

As expected, the doctor took a while in coming, he or she still had yet to materialize. At the very least, lying on the bed it was taking the strain off of her ankle, less pain than when she tried to walk on it. Wilkas rested her head on the pillow, pleasantly surprised and delighted by it's softness. 
Grace did not complain about the wait, for all she knew all the doctors could be busy operating on Faust who she wanted to make it. Sure Faust happened to be one scary marine but Grace liked to think of her as a friend, a friend however who liked to pick fights with anyone and argue her opinion. It was a wonder she made it to corporal, Grace thought to herself.

[Killinger, J.]

John waited patiently as a Corpsman, with three chevrons indicating E-5 payscale, removed the fragmentation grenade shard, "You're lucky, sir." The man said. John knew he was lucky, and quite honestly, misjudged the roll distance of the grenade. He wasn't without mistakes, and wondered if what he did to Cruz back in the hanger bay was a mistake or not. John hadn't gotten that angry in ages, and knew the Marine was frustrated. Being the highest ranking Marine on that pelican it was obvious that the Gunnery Sergeant would target him, despite assuming that John didn't in fact see combat.

"Yeah," John replied. "Seems like I'm running out though." John added as the Corpsman moved onto the Major's lip that Willowby had split upon. He examined it, but John stopped him. The lip was fine, it wasn't like it hand't been split before. Since he couldn't see the condition of the wound to his side thanks to the location, he was more worried about that. The shirt he had tied around the wound had soaked up enough blood to be worried.

"Well you're done here, sir. Take it easy today. You've got four stitches and I've put a bandage on to stop the bleeding. Come back to the med bay in a day and we'll see how you're doing when we remove the bandage." The Corpsman said, writing down something on the tactical pad before walking away. John donned the extra shirt he was provided and left the medical bay and proceeded to his office. Once inside, he took of the replacement shirt and donned a warn shirt that felt much more comfortable. This time it was a woodland top, so John followed suit by donning his woodland pants - but not before grabbing the chip.

He closed his door and locked it using the keypad. For now, he wanted a moment of silence.

He sat down at his desk and inserted the chip into his tactical pad and replayed the recording. He paused the video to watch a Marine speak, but to no one in particular. He watched the mouth for a moment and replayed the scene twice to see what he could. "Gunny, did yo-' was all John could understand before the camera swiveled to John's side and then up at the pelican's roof for a moment. Cruz addressed the men, but camera remained locked in position. At this particular time, John was resting his head for a moment. He was thinking of the consequences of allowing NAV data to slip away.

John looked down at his weapon for a second and the next he knew it Willowby and Cruz attacked him. The Gunnery Sergeants remarks, jab and this 'Willowby' characters remarks and actions were all caught on camera. It was enough evidence for a court martial. John would have reacted differently, but truth be told, it happened in the time frame of thirty seconds - roughly - and he was left processing what happened for a moment before the events in the hanger bay played out.

The Major sighed, ejected the recording and stuffed it in a locking drawer. He accessed PERSCOMM from his terminal and loaded Cruz and Willowby's files onto his two screens. He read over them for a moment, and decided he didn't want to press court martial - they were veterans, and they were good Marines. Hopefully, the Lieutenant and Lieutenant Colonel would arrive at the his office at the same time. Some form of disciplinary action had to be taken.

[Durant, M.]

Before Durant departed his office to meet with the Major, he busied himself by starting on a preliminary after action report of the events that had transpired on the Templar. He also began the arduous task of reporting the deaths of the many Marines in Second Platoon that had paid the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. It was a perk of his job he admitted he wasn't fond of. Alerting PERSCOM of the losses was a necessity, and not one he took pleasure in at all.

Michael glanced at the clock and noted the time. He sighed and stood up from behind his desk. The Major was waiting for him to arrive at his office, and it was never a wise decision to keep a superior officer waiting for long. He grabbed his eight-point garrison soft cover and plopped it atop his head, then left his room.

The journey to Major Killinger's office was brief and uneventful. When he reached the man's door, he stopped in front of it and stared at it for a moment. Curiosity reared its ugly head as he found himself wondering why he had been asked to see the Major in his office. After a moment's deliberation, he raised his fist and knocked on the door three times.

"Major Killinger, sir," the Lieutenant called, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard through the door, "It's Lieutenant Durant. Reporting as ordered." He stood at the door awaiting permission to enter the room. As he waited, he continued to wonder why he had been asked here.

[Killinger, J.]

(( OOC: The 'editing the rank' thing was a logical assumption (In my opinion) that I've used on other RPs. If it is unacceptable PM me and I will edit it. ))

John received a message from the Lieutenant Colonel informing him he was unable to make it as he was preoccupied with otherwise more important topics. As the executive officer of the Battalion the man lead, John understood why his commanding officer couldn't make it. None-the-less, as the chat was open, John decided to inform his superior.

>> /00:00:00/ [LTC. Harrison]: Major, can't make it. What did you need, son?
>> /00:00:30/ [MJR. Killinger]: Understood, sir. Incident involving two enlisted, I can file a report if you need.
>> /00:01:22/ [LTC. Harrison]: Just get on with it.
>> /00:03:56/ [MJR. Killinger]: (Link-Source:UNSCTTPS://Personnel-Command.mil/!Access-Restricted-Login!/Personnel-File/?Reference GySgt. Cruz and Sgt. Willowby... assaulted a superior officer on a Marine Dropship on the return from the Templar.
>> /00:05:02/ [LTC. Harrison]: And who was the officer they assaulted?

John stopped for a moment and considered an alternative, and how he'd approach this subject.

>> /00:07:33/ [MJR. Killinger]: Cruz and Willowby assaulted me, sir. I don't know what provoked it.
>> /00:07:50/ [LTC. Harrison]: Why are you trying to pussyfoot around this? Are you charging them, Major? Just get on with it! 
>> /00:08:40/ [MJR. Killinger: No sir, the Marines need them on the lines. I'm NJP-ing Cruz and letting Willowbys platoon leader decide what his punishment should be.
>> /00:10:39/ [LTC. Harrison]: Are you sure you don't want to press charges, Major. That's a court martial.
>> /00:11:27/ [MJR. Killinger]: Yes sir, I don't want to press charges.
>> /00:12:53/ [LTC. Harrison]: Then do it.
>> /00:13:16/ [MJR. Killinger]: Yessir.
>> /00:14:35/ [LTC. Harrison]: I expect a report about the incident, as well as your after action report, on my desk by 0900 ship time tomorrow.
>> /00:14:48/ [MJR. Killinger]: Yessir, report will be on your desk.
>> /00:14:59/ [LTC. Harrison]: Harrison out.

John closed the chat and sighed, opened up an after action report and incident report template and begun typing. Ten or so minutes passed before his door thudded three times and Durrant called out from the other side. John remotely opened his door from his console: "It's open, Lieutenant." John said and opened his drawer up. He inserted the chip into the tacpad, pre-loaded the video and slid the pad over to where Durrant would be seated. "Take a seat, please." John added.

As he waited for the young Marine to take his seat Killinger loaded up Cruz file, which was simply waiting on another tab. Due to the Marines being spread all over the known galaxy, submitting an edited rank on an online personnel file was all that was needed to promote or demote someone. Typically, the actual demotion (or promotion) on the records would be processed by Personnel Command staff fairly quickly and that's when it became official.

John clicked the rank and was greeted with a list of ranks the Marine Corps used. Cruz was a Gunnery Sergeant, so John edited him down to Staff Sergeant and hit the update button. He entered the validation requests by typing in his service number and security code provided by Personnel Command - which was different for every officer who had access to it. He submitted his changes and was informed it would be processed as soon as PersComm Staff could get to it.

"Please watch the video on the tacpad," John said. "Two of your enlisted are facing NJP's."

[Durant, M.]

"It's open, Lieutenant," came the voice of Major Killinger through the door. A millisecond later the keypad chimed and the door slid into the wall, revealing the Major's spacious office. Durant stepped inside and marched up to where Killinger sat, then snapped to attention.

"Take a seat, please," Killinger ordered Durant. Michael nodded and plopped down in the indicated seat, his eyes remaining fixed upon the battalion's executive officer. At this point numerous thoughts raced through his mind, and the nagging feeling that this was going to be an unpleasant visit continually picked at his psyche. Despite these thoughts, he kept his face completely expressionless and his eyes unreadable.

No sense in jumping to conclusions, Durant mused. Just then, the Major slid over a tactical pad, or TACPAD, to him by his feet. The Lieutenant's brow arched in confusion as he leaned forward and picked the TACPAD from off the floor. He examined it in his hands for a moment before noticing a video paused on the screen. He glanced up at the Major, his expression mirroring the confusion he felt.

Major Killinger responded by telling him to watch the video. "Two of your enlisted are facing NJP," he said, which caught the Lieutenant off guard.

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it and pressed the play button. As he watched the video play out, his expression faded from confusion, replaced by a grim look reminiscient to disappointment and anger. When the screen went black, indicating the video had finished, he looked up from the TACPAD to meet gaze with the Major.

He mulled over what he wanted to say for a moment before speaking. "What do you have in mind, sir?" Before he continued with the conversation, he wanted to know what kind of action the Major wanted to take via the NJPs. Part of him hoped the punishment wouldn't be too harsh, but at the same time he was appalled by his subordinate's actions and wasn't above hanging the two Marines himself. There was no honor in their actions.

And honor was everything.

[Furby, J.]

The chair Furby was seated in creaked in protest as he leaned back against it. His eyes were locked with Wilkas's, which he realized were the exact same color as his own. He listened as she explained rather briefly that her ankle had been injured during the platoon's initial insertion onto the Templar. He could tell by the tone of her voice and her brevity that she felt somewhat embarrassed about how she came about her injury. He smiled at her and said, "There's no need to be embarrassed," he said. "It's not every day we jump out the back of a Pelican in a zero-gee environment onto a freakin' spaceship."

He chuckled lightly and hoped that he had succeeded in making her feel less embarrassed about the injury to her ankle. What he said was true, at least as far as he knew. This mission had been his first in zero-g, and definitely his first combat action aboard a UNSC ship. Since he had been with Oscar Company, his experience with combat had been with ground engagements with the Covenant. After everything that had happened, he wasn't quite sure which he preferred.

After he had asked her why she had joined the military, Wilkas went about explaining that she actually hadn't voluntarily enlisted. That immediately piqued the young PFC's interest, and he leaned forward to show his interest as she continued to explain. Jayson sensed some bitterness in her voice at how she had been drafted into the military - a feeling he could totally empathize with considering his own past.

"Me?" he asked, pausing for a moment as if he hadn't been expecting the question to come up. "I was drafted, just like you. I'd just been accepted to Serrice University on the planet Tribute with a full GravBall scholarship when I got my draft notice in the mail. I tried fighting it, but the Big Green Weenie would have none of it. They fucked my future and shipped me off to Boot Camp on Reach to be their bitch."

[Killinger, J.]

John waited until Durant was finished to tell the Lieutenant what he had in mind, "I'm demoting your Platoon Sergeant, Gunnery Sergeant Cruz, down to Staff Sergeant but I'm letting you decide what to do with Willowby, but I was initially going to demote him to Corporal. While I haven't decided against it... I have decided to get your opinion on this subject as you're their direct commanding officer." John replied. If I weren't a half decent man he'd be a Corporal. John thought to himself, or facing court martial! But he knew that the Lieutenant needed experienced men under his command. Durant was fairly new into his command with the rank Second Lieutenant.

"I have the authority to do ninety day restrictions, so the level of punishmen-" John started before stopping from a sudden sharp pain from his side as he shifted positions and spun the monitor to show Durant the edited rank of Cruz. "So the level of punishment will be coming from what's granted with my paygrade."

The monitor also showed Willowby's file, with an edited rank of Corporal, but it hadn't been submitted. Both files appeared side-by-side but John had preloaded his security requirements and all he had to do was press 'ENTER' and the Sergeant would suddenly be a Corporal. Judging by the Lieutenant's response when he was watching the video John felt the young Marine was just as disappointed in fellow Marines and probably just as angry as he was - though the Veteran Marine knew better than to assume that.

"As it currently stands, for this discussion at least, Willowby doesn't have an official rank as it's in the air between Sergeant if I'm feeling nice or Corporal if I'm feeling like punishing him. I'm a decent man, or at least I try to be, that's why they're not receiving confinement to quarters and facing a court martial for striking a superior officer. Your thoughts, please, Durant."

[Durant, M.]

Durant shifted in his seat and rubbed his chin with unease as he listened to the Major's intentions. His eyes shifted to the TACPAD again and he realized that no court would go easy on Sergeant Willowby and Gunnery Sergeant Cruz if presented that video as proof. Not to mention the dozen or more likely witnesses to the act.

The video alone would be more than enough to convict them. That meant by all accounts the Major was going extremely easy on them by only NJP'ing them. For all intents and purposes, an NJP was merely a slap on the wrist compared to a court-martial. He hoped that both Willowby and Cruz would be thankful of that fact. Because in all honesty, the Major did not have to spare them like he was doing.

"I'm aware of your authority as battalion XO, sir," the Lieutenant replied, "and I appreciate you wanting to allow me to decide Sergeant Willowby's fate. I understand that you could just as easily have these two court-martialed." It was true. All Killinger had to do was inform the battalion commander of the incident and request that Cruz and Willowby be court-martialed, and it would happen. Sometimes it amazed him how much power the men and women over him in the chain-of-command possessed.

They could almost move mountains if they wanted to.

"I'm fine with the Gunnery Sergeant being demoted, and would also ask that you deny him three months pay in addition to the loss of rank," Durant stated. "As for Sergeant Willowby, I need him where he is right now and cannot afford to have him bumped down. So, I would suggest instead that he be given a ninety-day restriction to quarters, loss of three months pay, and have to work as an aide to the head of the Armory until I personally see fit to relieve him of those duties. How does that sound, sir?"

[Wilkas, G.]

She shrugged her shoulders, feeling unconvinced. "It might not be every day we perform in zero gee but... But I've got to be better at it I can't misjudge and injure myself at the start of the next operation" Grace imagined that  she might put a significant delay on the whole operation if she landed awfully, with the result of her breaking something. That more than likely would put an end to her participation in said operation.
It wasn't something that she would particularly enjoy doing, being transported out on a nice, comfortable Pelican while her platoon fought on and completed the mission without her. 

The whole mission had been Wilkas' first taste of actual combat, nothing could have possibly prepared her for it. The whole thing appeared nothing like the simulations, drills or exercises that she'd completed so many off back in basic. Any one who actually thought that the training would prepared someone for the true mind numbing horror of war was a liar, at least through Grace's eyes any way. She was not your born soldiering type, Wilkas remembered with shame freezing up when the shooting first started, the whine of the plasma weapons brought an primeval fear to the battlefield.

Grace honestly believed that she was the only conscript in the platoon, the majority of the fore mentioned platoon having already seen combat, most of them where veterans of several different operations. So it was rather surprising that there where other people in the platoon who had been drafted into the Marines, what made this even more surprising happened to be because Furby had tried to fight his call up papers.
Unlike Grace who had resigned herself to military service, mostly through a lack of anything else to do and because there was no way of getting out of it. 

"Unlucky there however you should of known better than to try and fight off the UNSC, they want who they want" She replied to him. Of course the UNSC interrupted with futures, dreams and plans yet those things would all be reduced to ashes regardless if the Covenant managed to win the war. Grace fortunately had never seen a planet get glassed, however she had heard the stories from other marines and once a ODST. Who for your information liked Grace a lot, which made her very uncomfortable. 
"When the war is won you can go back to your dream don't give up on it because of this". Grace encouraged. 

[Killinger, J.]

John nodded slightly as the Second Lieutenant spoke his opinion. The Major retracted the demotion and closed the link, effectively terminating the session on the profile and everything remained unedited. He'd go back in and upload the report about the incident later once it was completed. The Major leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment, trying to remember his rights as an officer. Did he have the power to make a forfeiture of three months pay? NJP's had been changed so many times in the past he couldn't quite remember, so he decided to play it safe.

"Loss of base pay for two months is the best I can safely do for now", John replied. Cruz and Willowby would get their deployment bonuses still, so it wasn't like they weren't earning anything. Regardless, they were on a twelve month deployment on the Marathon Cruiser - so they didn't really have anything to spend their money on anyways. That wasn't John's call, though, what they spent their money on. "But everything else is fine. Since you're the platoons commanding officer, I'll let you deal the cards so to speak. You'll find Cruz's new rank is effective immediately thanks to the neural lace. I'll have his new collar pin available to you in a couple hours, return to my office then and allow yourself in if I am not present. Door code is 1-0-5-5."

John twisted his monitor on the console back towards himself, "You're free to talk candidly, Durant. If there is something else you need, let me know. If not, you're free to be dismissed."

[Durant, M.]

Michael nodded as Major Killinger described that he could only guarantee two months loss of base pay for Cruz and Willowby. That was perfectly fine by him, though part of him knew it wouldn't make much difference. For people like Cruz and Willowby, money didn't meant squat. They weren't Marines because of the pay, and had they been they certainly would not have chosen the infantry as their military occupation. He was fairly certain the two Marines wouldn't be phased by the loss of a couple months worth of credits.

"That's fine with me, sir," the Lieutenant replied. Michael leaned back in his seat and continued to listen to the Major as he went on to explain that the rest of his suggestions were fine, and that he would leave Durant to be the one to dish out the punishment. So I'm the messenger now, he thought as he listened. Perhaps that was a good thing.

It would prevent further confrontation between the Major and Willowby and Cruz. Confrontation that neither of the two enlistedmen needed given present circumstances. Hopefully Cruz isn't the type to shoot the messenger, Durant thought with a grin.

"Sir, I have a question in regards to our mission," the Lieutenant stated matter-of-factly. "I was in the midst of writing a preliminary after action report for our mission. Do you want me to continue writing it up or do you intend to submit an AAR of your own? I understand that because of the nature of this mission and the events that transpired, a formal AAR is out of the question. I'm just wondering if you want an AAR from me or not."

Another thought occurred to him in that moment. "Also, I'll be sending you a list of personnel from my platoon that are eligible for awards for their actions in the mission. For instance, Private Wilkas should be receiving a combat action ribbon since this was her first time in combat. All of the awards and personnel receiving them will be listed in the message. Sir."

[Furby, J.]

Jayson scoffed at Private Wilkas' optimism. When the war is won? The war had been carrying on for almost two decades now and humanity was no closer to winning it than they had been the day it started. In fact, things were far worse now than they had been then.

Wilkas was lucky. She hadn't yet suffered through the horror of watching a planet get turned into a molten cinder. It was hard for someone to be optimistic about the outcome of this war when you saw firsthand what the Covenant were capable of. Humanity was seriously outnumbered and woefully outgunned. When Hydra III had been lost, the Covenant just swooped in and glassed it. The UNSC fleet above hadn't stood a chance, and had to abandon it or else the entire fleet would have been wiped out.

It was on that day that whatever optimism he may have had had been abandoned. If he had been a cynic before then, he was far more cynical now. "Honestly," Furby began, his eyes turning dark, "I don't see us winning this war."

Jayson shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and paused to let his words sink in. He knew Wilkas probably wouldn't understand. She had no reason to. She hadn't seen what he had seen - what most of the platoon had seen - and if she was lucky, she would never have to.

"Even if we do, it won't be any time soon, he continued, avoiding Wilkas's eyes. "The Covenant are on the brink of invading the Inner Colonies. Millions of people are already dead, and there's no telling how many more have been left orphaned by those alien son's of bitches. We are no closer to winning this war than we were day one."

Furby heaved a sigh and shook his head. There was more he wanted to say, but he felt it too depressing to talk about. Wilkas didn't need to hear everything he had to say, and it was better if he kept it to himself anyway. Because in truth, he didn't think humanity could win this war. And if they did, he didn't believe he would be around to see it happen. The average life expectancy of a Marine in combat with the Covenant was astronomically low.

In his mind, all the Marines were in the grand scheme of things was cannon fodder. Their purpose was to slow the Covenant's advance as much as possible. It was the brutal calculus of war. A thousand over here die so that a million over there can be saved.

But how long would that work? How long until there wasn't anyone else left to sacrifice? How long did they have before the Covenant were at Earth's gate, knocking on its door?

He didn't have an answer. But, honestly, he didn't see it being much longer. Not with the way things were going at the moment. "Anyway," Furby said, attempting to get off the subject, "Where're you from? You've got a pretty unique accent."

[Wilkas, G.]

Grace noticed the shift in Furby's eyes and listened to his comment before his explanation as he avoided her gaze. That sort of talk was negative to morale believing the war could not be won. It would be won, like the Soviet Union's Great Patriotic War which initially had gone badly for the Soviets, yet they managed to win. The UNSC would win this war, humanity could not afford not to.

"Your wrong we can win this war". She argued her voice filled with her certainty. "You must keep such negative talk to yourself".

Wilkas had listened to a lot of UNSC propaganda, seen most of the UNSC films which showed UNSC forces not only fighting the Covenant, but winning against them. That and she probably possessed a great deal of naivety the war barely disrupted life back on Earth, the reality of war failed to hit quite a few people on Earth. This was largely due to the security of Earth and it's distance from the actual front. Sure Grace now actually had seen real combat, she was yet to see a glassing. For her the true destructive nature of the Covenant was still a story, yet stubbornly like a lot of recruits from her boot camp she held to the belief that victory was a possibility.
 
Grace stopped herself, engaging with him about his defeatist opinion would do little good, she would never allow herself to possess such a terrible viewpoint. She listened to his question before answering. "Moscow, Russia". She replied with a thin smile, her home was so beautiful especially in the winter when everything lay under a soft, thick blanket of snow. 

Yet... Her mind still dwelt on Furby's defeatist talk, something that her boot camp believed to be one of the reasons why humanity was losing the war. The drill instructors made sure that their recruits where not panic mongers or those who spread defeatist talk. That sort of speech cost lives and ruined morale. 

Humanity would win the war, it was only a matter of time until final victory, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but some point the UNSC would finally win the war... Grace decided that Furby's opinion was wrong, that he tried to infect her with his defeatist opinion, a panic monger. It wouldn't work, but if he tried to spread it to others... Wilkas found herself uncertain of her choice of action. 

[Killinger, J.]

(OOC: Sorry for the short post, Durant.)

John nodded. He understood the Lieutenant's question about the after action report.

"My after action report is going to be different than your after action report. My primary objective was different, which is why I broke off from your platoon and went to a different deck. So you'll have to do your own after action report for now," John said. "But submit a rough draft to me and if it's sounding similar I'll tell you what you don't need to add. Hopefully that lessens your work load." John added. Sometimes I am a pencil pusher John thought, chuckling to himself.

"I'd like to see your after action report by 0400 ship time tomorrow, as I have to file my report by 0900. That way I can tell you what you do and do not need so you can continue to write a satisfactory AAR in your time limit. As for the message list, I doesn't matter what time I get it as long as it is sometime tomorrow." The Major said.