2237-10-29 - About The Preacher

Marines talk over the latest scuffle with the VRM.

Date: 2237-10-29

Location: Mess Hall

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1523

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Gage is looking worse for wear, today. In addition to the bruised side of his jaw and neck out of the tussle with the Virgon Royal Marines a couple of days back, his chest is also bandaged, bulking out his off-duty tanks in an obvious sort of way. He moves carefully, though that could be attributed to laughter nearby and a muttering about 'Cage' that makes him stop dead and scowl somewhere towards a group of pilots. And then he's headed for the line to pick up his food.

Geoff is having some grub in the mess, mostly vegetables, which he's chewing over pretty slowly. He looks up as Gage passes. "You get in that scrap, too?"

Slowing, Gage's expression is set as he hears someone addressing him, obviously ready for a fight. And so, when it's a casual question, it takes him a moment to reframe what was probably an antagonistic answer to something more level: "Yeah." And then, because pertinent: "Which one?"

"With those Virgan motherfrakkers," Geoff replies. "With Cate and Preacher and everybody." He lifts an eyebrow. "There another brawl I didn't hear about?"

The Tauran's expression becomes a smirk. "Yeah," he replies, with feeling. A shake of head seems to dismiss the notion of any other brawl -- yep, nothing to see here -- as he flickers fingers in a gesture that seems to mean, 'I'll be back'. It doesn't take long for Gage to move along the line -- no one dawdling today -- securing tray and drink before he circles back around to seat himself at Geoff's table. "Aint ever seen the Chaplain so bent up. What'd you hear?"

Geoff upnods the gesture, and eats a few mouthfuls while Gage is gone. When he gets back, Geoff leans his elbows on the table. "Well, besides the motherfrakkers /firing/ on us, Chaplain's been trying to help out the insurgents. Got mad as Hades when the Virgans were attacking an insurgent village full of women and children. Don't really blame him."

Looking vaguely surprised, Gage shoves down a few bites of food before he leans back, grimacing as he shifts his weight, one hand pressing to his chest for a moment. And then, "Figured it must be something pretty frakked up for him to take the first shot like that." He's frowning, though, "But, he's dealing with one group of insurgents. Others are still trying to frak us up. We got pinned down just the other day by another group."

Geoff shrugs. "I'm not saying I understand any of this frakkin' shit," he replies. "I just want to leave. We don't deserve to be tangled up in this bullshit."

"You got my backing on that," Gage says, wholeheartedly, even lifting his mug and tipping it briefly towards Geoff in toast before taking a generous gulp. "Gotta convince the brass of that, though," with a grimace, like he thinks that's an unlikely task at best.

Geoff pushes his food around with a fork. "Hn," he snorts. "I ain't gonna be the guy to convince brass of /anything/. Preacher might, though. But he won't think he can."

"He probably has to stop punching folk who are supposed to be our 'allies' first," there's a definite feel of quotes around that word; Gage doesn't lend it much weight. "Leave the punching of obvious assholes to the rest of us grunts," the Tauron adds, with a smirk.

Geoff shrugs again. "I mean. /I/ wouldn't'a told him to do that. He thinks he's some kinda action hero. Drives me nuts how he jumps into everything like a grunt, like chaplains are a renewable resource out here."

Rubbing briefly at his throat -- the bruising there an obvious sign of Gage's interactions with said assholes -- the other marine snorts in amusement. "If none of the shit he's seen has given him pause, I doubt anything we'd say would help." After a moment of chewing, he adds, "Maybe Arda'd have some luck."

"Nothing's gonna help," Geoff says. "If you try to talk to him he gets all offended. Pretty sure Lyn's tried." He eats another bite. "What can ya do?"

Gage appears to be considering that as a real question, rather than just something thrown out there with no expectation of an answer. "Tie him up?" the Tauron suggests, chuckling. "Leave him behind in the Raptor a few times. Maybe he'll get the message?"

Geoff smiles wryly. "/I/ ain't gonna do it," he says. "But anyway, maybe one of the docs could talk to brass. I mean, I didn't join the war to get shot at by frakkin' /people/."

"I would," Gage counters, with a grin. "Just play distraction for me, yeah?" Hard to tell if he's being serious. He certainly seems to be giving it enough thought that he might be. Geoff's suggestion about the docs earns a furrow of brow. "Maybe," he allows, "Think it'd help? Hargrave seemed pretty offended at the idea the brass even gave docs any mind."

Geoff snorts his amusement. "Yeah," he says. "Not her, obviously. But people usually get the most offended by shit that's kinda true, right?"

There's a brief chuckle from Gage, as he washes down a mouthful of food with another generous gulp from his mug. "Sounds about right," he agrees, before he adds, "Don't know any of the others at all. Seem to keep to themselves, even when they've got their hands in your guts."

"Maybe Eli," Geoff suggests. "Or that other woman doc, I forget her name. Sarice?" He shrugs yet again. Ambivalent day.

Frowning, Gage says, "Eli?" unfamiliar with the man, shrugging to the second name as well. "Sounds like a job for you," he says with a swish of his mug and a brief grin. "Since you seem to know more of them."

"I dunno, Miko's husband," Geoff answers. He grimaces lightly. "I don't think he likes me. But I can send the preacher."

"If you think he won't go and punch anyone else," Gage replies, with a brief chuckle. "I mean, that's /our/ job."

Geoff shakes his head a little at Gage. "Can't say what he'll do these days. But I think he can handle talking to some doctor about how we're getting our guys frakked up by other frakkin' humans."

"Maybe he ought to talk to the other doctor, too." The tap of Gage's finger to his temple probably makes it clear which other doctor he's talking about. "I mean, when I'm more level-headed than him, something's gotta be wrong, right?"

Geoff blinks at Gage given that suggestion. "You mean about Preacher?" he asks.

"Yeah," Gage replies, in between bites. "I mean, he struck a marine without a warning. Nobody'd be surprised if Davy or I did something like that. But the Chaplain...?"

Geoff shakes his head. "I'm not doing that," he says. "I'm not gonna let some egghead send Preacher home."

Gage looks surprised again, lowering his fork. "Think they'd really do that? I mean, people get messed up, aint like they're easy to replace though."

Geoff shrugs. "I mean...yeah. I think they would. They... I mean, chaplain might be different, but...definitely if they think you're frakked up like unpredictable frakked-up? They can send you home."

"Well, frak." Gage frowns as he rubs a hand across his chin, grimacing as fingers run across the purpling bruise on his jaw. "I say get him in a fight, or get him frakked, but I guess he's done both recently," with a wry sort of look. "That's about all I've got as far as fixing people."

Geoff shakes his head. "I mean...I don't know about him needing fixed. He's just...I dunno. Maybe time helps, too." He looks Gage over. "I mean, you think he's gonna do something?"

"I dunno. Just think," Gage pauses a moment, "Next time we're on the ground, and he has a gun in his hand, if the VRM show up?" He shrugs, as if to suggest he's not sure what the Chaplain might do. "Worth keeping an eye out, anyway."

"I don't want to see those frakkers either," Geoff says. "Wouldn't blame anybody for being pissed."

"Being pissed, sure," Gage allows, without a pause. "They're assholes, no question. But it was a big frak-up, aint gonna make it better by firing on some other grunts who had shit to do with it. That's all I'm saying. And that's coming from someone who has every reason to hate the Virgans. They frakked up Tauron for years. As I said... frakked up when I'm the level-headed one, yeah?"

"Preacher's not crazy," Geoff insists. "He'll lock it down. He's not gonna start like a fire fight or something."

"Hope not," is all Gage says, as he finishes off his food, pushing the plate away and gulping down the remainder of his drink. "Take your word for it," he adds, after he's done.

Geoff frowns, looking troubled by Gage's doubt. "Everybody has their moments."

"Some of us more than most," the comment is clearly self directed, Gage chuckling briefly. "Just... some people you just never expect to see lose it like that, you know?"

Geoff squints a little, maybe uncomfortably. "He's had as hard a time as anybody."

Something... maybe the other marine's discomfort, makes Gage lift a brow as if in silent inquiry.

Geoff shrugs at that expression. "I'm just saying. It's been like...pretty rough, over time. It's hard on people."

Whatever Gage thinks, it's expressed with a grunt, which is about normal for him. "Fair enough. Past time for leave for all of us, I think. Caprica didn't count." Since they were on duty, if not in the line of fire.

"Damn right," Geoff agrees, settling a bit. "I want to set down somewhere frakking not-terrible and take a frakking break somewhere with some frakking nightlife."

Gage, in no way religious, says, "And so say we all," with feeling. And then he's pushing up from his chair, collecting his tray. "Got some more still-in-the-shit duty to get to. Catch you later, Courtois."

Geoff quickly dips his chin in a nod. "Good talking to you," he says. "You're a good guy. Have a safe shift."

"Frak. You just doomed me to death," is Gage's bland response to his being accused of being a good guy, as he moves off to stash his dirty dishes before heading for whatever punishment duty the Gunny has today.


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