Day 047: Disagreements On Direction
Summary: Sergeant Breen and Guardsman Grey disagree on who is teaching who.
Date: 15 July 2016
Related: Aggressive Specimen Collection
Grey Nathaniel 

Infirmary, Camp Jaha
This was only intended to be a secondary medbay, a backup to the main Go-Sci labs. Unfortunately, Go-Sci is still in orbit. There are 20 medical beds, and space for another dozen or so cots, any more casualties have to spill out into the hallways or nearby rooms. Each of the beds has a computer readout alongside it, and several more line the walls, displaying information or patient scans as necessary. Imaging equipment folds back into the wall or the ceiling, and racks of additional equipment line the walls, all the way up to where the top corners angle in to make the ceiling narrower than the floor.
47 Days After Landing

Grey is not exactly an outpatient, not with several stitches in his jaw, a 'slightly' cracked rib, and a couple of slashes, but no one ever accused him of following orders well, even when those orders come from medical professionals. Now he's back in medbay, however, getting his stitches checked and pressure bandage changed. But before he does that, he goes looking for Nathaniel. As he approaches the man's hospital bed, his armor swapped out for a simple olive drab t-shirt, he speaks up quietly, "Sergeant Breen." A pause to be acknowledged, "Have a minute?"

For his part, Nathaniel has been relaxing in the bed. Unlike the former 100-turned-Guard, the Sergeant is happy to let the doctors actually do their jobs. Not performing to your peak due to injury is a great way to get yourself killed if the stuff does hit the fan. So Nathaniel catches up on the latest via his dataslate. Now that he can think clearly, he was in the middle of his report when Grey comes along.

Grey can easily see the stitched up swelling that is the head trauma Nathaniel endured out there, while the other injuries are already starting to heal. It's obvious the head wound will take a while, "I do, Mr. Grey." Those blue eyes hold plenty of pain, but they hold a hint of inquisitiveness now, "What can I do for you?"

"Wanted to talk 'bout the mission, Sergeant." Grey's eyes narrow slightly in thought, and then he comes up with the right term, "Do a debrief. And you can just go with 'Grey' Sergeant. That's been doin' me for a name for the last couple years," in the SkyBox, since he's the last of the Greys anyhow, "and it suits just fine. My mom," the one he killed himself, "liked Lucian." And isn't there venom worthy of a Grey in that statement.

Nathaniel gives a nod, giving a wince after he does so from the pain. "I was going to discuss it once I dealt with a few things… but now's as good a time as any." Nathaniel's blue yes go to the door briefly, then back to Grey. "Is there a specific part of the mission you'd like to discuss first, Guardsman?" The Sergeant has his own ideas on the matter, of course… but Sergeant Breen has been known to appreciate input from his team, despite a reputation for being a hardass about the 'letter' of the law.

Gathering his hands behind his back in a sort of 'at ease' position, Grey grimaces, then glances around, nodding to a stool, "Okay if I sit down? My ribs are killin' me." If he's given permission, he'll drag the stool over and perch on it. If not, well, at-ease is good enough for him for now. Either way, he hesitates a bit, then dives in, "I'd like to suggest talkin' to folks who've been in it before. Weeks, me, and Morgan'd all fought Reapers before. We coulda told you that we needed to drop as many as possible before they got close."

Nathaniel gives a nod to that as well, "Fine with me, this isn't an inspection Guardsman." Nathaniel gives a grin. Then he listens… and gives a nod, "I would agree with you completely if the objective was to neutralize as many as possible. That, however, was not why we were out there, and why I ordered single fire on one to grab their attention. We can hardly tell which one is the best candidate if they're all dead before we got a chance to see their faces, after all." The Sergeants expression makes it clear there's more to his decision as well, but that was an answer to Grey's question.

Grey's features set as the Sergeant responds, "Yeah. And we can't take any of them in if we're all dead. There's more Reapers. There ain't more of us." He's definitely gotten into some bad habits (from a Guard point of view) after two years in the 'Box and a month and a half on the Ground. "That's what I'm sayin', Sergeant. It ain't like the Ark up here. We almost got ourselves killed a dozen times over after we landed. You folks don't have to do that."

Nathaniel gives a small smile to that. Looks like one Sergeant Breen is playing mentor. Grey didn't complete his training, so can't really fault the young man. "We? You? You sound like there's a divide there, Guardsman." The statement is given soft, matter of factly. Then, that smile comes back, "when you put on that uniform, you put it on knowing that your next mission may well be your last. Your job is to act as the bulwark that keeps the rest of your people alive, and to be the ones that handle the fighting so those who can't fight for themselves don't have to." Nathaniels hands intertwine in his lap, "the safety of my team and the security of my people is my first priority. I put myself and you in front during the engagement because I trusted myself and you to handle close quarters while the rest of the squad picked them off from a distance. Of course, no plan survives completely against the enemy, but all in all we only had two serious injuries; us. They, on the other hand, were dead or captured within short order." Nathaniel gives a tilt of the head. Well, if nothing else, the Sergeant has patience for the teenager.

"'We', man. The one hundred people that got sent down here to die." Is Grey bitter? Not nearly as much as some of the others. "You, the people who came down when we didn't die. The people most of us wanted to come down when we didn't die, me included." Anger flickers across his features though, "And Breen, with all due respect, go piss up a rope. I've been standin' between danger and my people… the One Hundred and all the Ark… since I got down here." And then Grey's standing up off the stool, tapping his chest with the fingers of his right hand, "I put my life on the line for my people every damn day," despite the anger, Grey keeps his voice low, tight and controlled. "Hell, I risked my life to bring the dead ones back to be buried. Because that's who I am. That's who my dad taught me to be." Actually, Paris Grey would be rolling over in his grave with how his son has been acting… if he had a grave instead of having burned up in atmo. "And this?" He gestures up to his jaw, then his ribs, "This ain't a serious injury. This is just life when someone doesn't trust their people to get the job done and tries to micromanage them in the middle of a damned fight."

Nathaniel almost chuckles, but instead listens all the way through. There is no anger in his expression, no pity, just patience as the young man rants. "What the council did was a hard choice, but I do believe it worked itself out in the end… even if the road here was hard." Is there sympathy there? Pity? Consolation? Maybe a little bit of all three, potentially. "thus far, you have potential, Guardsman. I've heard and read a lot about you for a while now, and specifically requested you for this mission so I could see what you're capable of now. Being managed is part of being in a squad, Guardsman… especially in a capture squad. People sometimes get tunnel vision in the middle of a fight, like Simmons. We are all new to fighting together as a unit, as I was pulled off my scout unit to head the team. Now, I have no idea if the Chief wants us to stick together as a unit or not, but so far, I think you'll do fine with some time." Nathaniel gives a grin, "the talent is good… but you need discipline as well. It's obvious you're used to freelancing… or am I wrong?"

"No shit the Council had a hard choice. I've been defending it for forty-seven damned days." Actually more like forty. Grey was pretty angry there to start with. He listens to the compliments and minor chastisements, but his jaw clenches — hard enough to make him wince and rub at the bandage on it — at the last point, "No, I ain't been freelancing down here. I've been leading down here. And I can tell you it's not like anything we trained for as Cadets. This isn't riot suppression or raids on people who don't got weapons. This shit is real." Despite the stress he puts on some of the words, his voice remains quiet, respecting the rank, the medbay, or both. "You can't plan out everyone's moves, make them dance around like puppets. You gotta let 'em off the leash. Let 'em use their initiative. You meant well, but tellin' us what to do every three seconds," he picked that number out of thin air, "was slowin' us down. We ain't puppets. We're people with distinct skills. You gotta let us use 'em."

Nathaniel gives a nod, "I've heard about that too." To the 'leading' part, then once he's done again, "that isn't how the others have described it. That camp you built was built out of a bunch of cats that happened to be corralled enough to work together. There was no real hierarchy to speak of, so let's not compare that to what we have now, ok? I get it, you did what you could and you did a nice job, but overselling it doesn't help your case." He takes a breath, "As I recall, I said that I put you and myself in front, with the rest in the back. I've seen Corporal Weeks in training at the range, and the other two were decent enough shots to put on the firing line. I know I'm good for melee combat, and I wanted to see what you'd learned down here -you impressed me with how you did, by the way- and then I adjusted as necessary. I gave two orders during the fighting so Morgan could handle medical needs for both of us, and let the rest work as needed. There were minor discipline problems -which isn't surprising, given the unit was put together in a day- but the only serious issue that came up was Simmons insubordination." Nathaniel shrugs, "I've studied military tactics and strategy while up on the Ark as well… so I have at least a basic idea of what I'm doing down here now."

Grey shakes his head, opening his mouth to respond to Nathaniel's commentary on the Delinquent Camp, but he closes his mouth, lips tightening for a moment as he smothers some intemperate response. Still, he shakes his head, "Man, you were tellin' us what to do every damn second of that fight. And when you weren't, it was Morgan." That may be an exaggeration, in fact it definitely is. "Yeah, I know a buncha the Guard did. Like Kai too. And that's great, once you get some blood on your hands. First mission I led down here, I got two people killed." Okay, so him leading that mission is an overstatement, and he's definitely not bragging, "I'm just sayin'… those of us who've been fighting for the last forty days do got somethin' we can share. And givin' people a job, then lettin' them do that job… it's a whole lot more effective than hangin' over their shoulder."

Nathaniel gives Grey a look, now. The Sergeant is willing to mentor the young man, but he has no time for games or overstatement, "I agree, Morgan was out of line, and I plan to make a note of that to both him and in my report. He was there as a civilian expert, and I was deliberately trying not to antagonize him in the middle of the fight since he was not incompetent and we couldn't afford the conflict while engaged." Nathaniels eyes narrow, then, "but telling me I was puppeting you every second is a serious exaggeration, and you know it, Guardsman. We're just starting to work together, and I'm fine with disagreements, but you're out of line with that." Then Nathaniel softens, "I appreciate your thoughts, Guardsman. I try to make it a policy for members of my unit to be able to come to me with comments or suggestions without worrying about if they're going to offend me. I'm happy to listen if you feel you have experiences to share."

By Grey's annoyed expression, it's entirely possible that he was trying to mentor Nathaniel. Shaking his head, he barely manages not to roll his eyes, "Nevermind, Sergeant. My first Dad was just fine," except, you know, not at all, "I ain't lookin' for a second one. If you'll excuse me, I'll get my stitches checked out and get back out there lookin' for a way to get my people outta the Mountain." But he doesn't leave the Sergeant's bedside right away, evidently waiting to actually be dismissed.

"With that attitude, even if I told you to stay in the settlement, I rather doubt you will." Nathaniel notes, "as it is, start acting with some discipline, and I won't have to reprimand you." No more mister nice Sargeant, "the talent is there, but you're all over the place." Nathaniel grunts, "go and report to Major Wu if you want on a scouting team for Mount Weather then, Guardsman."

"I already told the Chancellor that I'm gettin' them out, and I'd resign from the Guard before I backed off that, Sergeant." Which may have something to do with why Kane thinks so poorly of Grey. Well, that and the long shadows of his parents. At the order to report to Wu, however, Grey nods, "I am the scouting team, Sergeant." There might even be a cocky grin there, "Take a look at the vid some time." Still, he nods sharply, then moves to turn and head over to a med-tech to get checked out.

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