Day 048: Pop Culture Healing
Summary: Grey and Lionel are in the Infirmary for check-ups. Morgan and Hector are there to check on the patients, and Keelyn is a new patient.
Date: 16 July, 2016
Related: Aggressive Specimen Collection
Grey Lionel Hector Morgan Keelyn 

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.
48 Days After Landing

For someone who has been beat up as much as Grey has, he really doesn't like needles, especially when they're so close to his face. Thankfully, the cut across his jaw has already been stitched, and now Grey is sitting on one of the beds in the infirmary, trying very hard to ignore the Mac the medtech checking the stitches. He's trying, and failing, to distract himself with poking at a dataslate with his left hand, typing not a whole lot slower than he normally does even though he's only using one hand — which is to say that he's hunt-hunt-and-pecking instead of just his usual hunt-and-pecking. Mac checks something, and Grey flinches and hisses, "Ow! Goddamn it, Mac…" He gets an aggrieved look from the med-tech, and Grey smooths metaphorically-ruffled feathers, "Yeah, sorry. I know you're doin' your job. Just… ow, man."

<FS3> Lionel rolls Wit+wit: Success. (6 2 4 7 5 5)

"You whine like a twelve-year-old," Lionel says calmly from the neighboring medical bed. His left leg is propped up, and another med tech is poking around the puncture wound to check its state. It wasn't stitched, but instead left open to air and heal — a smoother scar. That does mean lots of this icky black liquid that Li swears is a natural antiseptic because, well, supplies are still low. He is reading something off his own dataslate, and lazily flicks over to the next digital page. "Huh… got this linguistics report on the Grounder language… a warrior is called a… guh-nuh… guh… nuh… gun-uh…" He rolls the word around in his mouth, brow frinkled. "Oh, gunner…" Then he replies dryly. "Ironic since they hate guns…"

"Ding dong, good cheer squad!" sing-songs Hector as he enters the infirmary. He's carrying a sack filled with something. "Oh, ew. Dude, what's that black gunk?" He wrinkles his nose as he approaches Lionel's bedside.

Grey scowls over at Lionel, "Don't you have paperwork to do?" Sure, it's on computers, but it'll always be paperwork. "Major Wu wants a damned Ay-Ay-Ar," After-Action-Report, "from me on the Reaper fight. Didn't Breen give them one already? Can't believe he took the stick outta his ass long enough to forget to put in a report." Someone's bitter. And, you know, in pain, since his wounds haven't rated even aspirin. Hector's approach causes him to frown a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought, but it's been too long since he looked through the 'Persons of Interest' files as a Cadet, and the picture would have been old anyhow. "I wouldn't make that connection to them. Tell the wrong one that they call their warriors gunners, and you're likely to get sock in the mouth."

"Yes, I do… I think I gave it to… ah… uh… some cadet… Willis, maybe? She has impeccable grammar." He looks at another word in the linguistics report. "Of course they figured out the fucking word for revenge… I'm surprised the Grounders don't have twelve words to represent the concept." He carefully looks at the word, mouth working to sound it out. "Bah-mah-ehn… Bah-mah-ehn… Ba-man… Baman." He blinks as his Pop Culture addled brain kicks in. "Shit, their word for revenge is based on Batman…" He almost throws the dataslate behind him in a game over gesture. He looks over at Hector with a broad grin. "You like it?" He waggles his bare leg. "Smells like licorice."

"Licorice Leg Lionel. That's your name from now on. Heard you got chewed up by zombies." Hector grabs a chair and pulls it up to his friend's bedside. He drops to sit and glances past to Grey. If there's any recognition at all, he does a good job hiding it. "Are you really trying to figure out their language? That sounds like studying to me."

Morgan walks in, looking down at the dataslate in his hands as if he's about to capture a Pokemon. Hearing multiple voices, he looks up and frowns. "What are you doing here?" he asks no one specifically. "Was there another mission?" And no one invited him?

"Revenge is usually final, man. You don't need more than one word when you do it and get it done with forever." Grey snorts softly, "And whoever put that shit together is pulling your leg." He glances to Hector, "Your licorice leg. No way they got a word from a dude with blue undies on over his tights." Of course he saw the Adam West Batman on the Ark. He snorts at Hector again, "We wouldn't have if that jackhole Breen had asked people who'd already fought Reapers how to do it. Would have blasted 'em from across the clearing, then found the least-hurt one and dragged it's rotting ass back." Not that they're actually rotting. Morgan's query draws a shake of Grey's head, a motion that is aborted by Mac the medtech's grip on the Guardsman's skull. Grey sighs, "Nope. Mac's just checkin' my stitches." The medtech adds in, "And you keep talking. Which doesn't help."

"You sure know how to make a guy feel special," Lionel says dryly to Hector. He snorts at the bit about zombies. "I can tell you right now… Night of the Living Dead has nothing on these fuckers… they're fast zombies… no one likes fast zombies." He looks up at Morgan's question, and cannot stop himself from the immediate smartassery. "Getting my nails done… manicure, pedicure… I thought I'd opt in for a leg wax." When Grey speaks, the Corporal just shakes his head ruefully. "He only had blue undies from the early 1940s to the mid-1990s… there was a blip in 1973 where he wore a purple costume with black undies." Then he looks at Hector, grinning broadly again. "I'm gettin' in all my learnin' so I can flirt with the natives."

"Well, glad to see the zombie grounders didn't damage your mouth, buddy," says Hector. "So how long are you going to be laid up on your ass, anyway? I gotta figure out how many presents to waste on you." He starts to dig around in his sack like some low-rent Santa. "Did you guys manage to actually capture one?"

"He always keeps talking." Morgan tells Mac, heading over to a terminal. "You get used to it after a while. We got two. Should probably go get more in fact. As many drugs as they're on, they might not live through the detoxing. We don't even have a complete list of what they've been given. Didn't think of that before." he admits, making a face.

By his stare, Grey is judging Lionel, and judging him harshly. "Nerd." And then he smirks a bit, which causes him to wince and Mac to throw up his hands in exasperation. "Just headbutt them. It makes 'em go weak in the knees." He nods a little warily to Hector, although he does note, "Hell, Weeks barely got scratched. And everybody loves the sound of my voice. Why should I deprive 'em?"

"I'll be back up in an hour," Lionel says. "Just a puncture wound… nothing bad… I mean… Breen probably has a concussion, but the damn golden boy was already back on duty, I've heard." The Corporal unabashedly adds, "Idiot." Then he looks over toward Morgan when he talks about the Reaper, and he frowns. "How the hell do you detox someone like that?" He is trying not to peek curiously at Hector's bag of portable goodies, though it does spark a thought — and not even Grey's jab at his nerdiness is enough to derail him. "I was thinking, H… there's some rumbling of going back into the tunnels… but, dark as all shit down there… we need some covert light sources…" There is something in his tone — a casual encouragement. "I bet you got some ideas of how we can make up for a low supply of nightvision headgear…"

"An hour? Man, for an hour, you get like…a sip of swill, that's it." Hector closes up the bag again and lifts his chin. "I gotta save the real treats for when you're actually laid up. You keep chasing zombies and you're gonna be." He glances over at Morgan and purses his lips. "So the Reapers are just drugged up Grounders? Shit, man. That's brutal." As to the question of the light sources… "Hmmm, maybe? I mean, most sources of light are being used. But I might be able to rig something up." It's clear that for a second, he thought Lionel was going to ask him to try and procure something via back channels. After all, that's mostly what people ask him to do.

"You lock them up, hope they don't break the door down, and see if they're still alive once the screaming stops a couple days later." Morgan answers without looking away from the terminal. Not till Lionel mentions the tunnels. "Going back? When? For what?" And then he looks over at Grey for an answer before shaking his head at Hector's question. "Not just. It's not that simple. There's actual physical changes to the anatomy of the brain."

Keelyn comes into the infirmary not for friendly conversation, but because she's limping in. Definitely favoring one ankle, she makes her way in, and finds a place to sit down to start taking off her right boot, and see what the ankle looks like underneath.

Grey snorts at Lionel's news about Nathaniel, "Dumbass. I just got off light duty." There's a wary look to Mac, who waggles his hand in a 'maaaaaybe' sort of way, "Well, I'm aimin' to be off light duty, and he got worked over a shit-ton worse than me." He eyes Hector then, and a dim light goes on behind his dark eyes, "Ellie V's kid." Who is a decade older than him. But that's how his father referred to Hector. And then he just shrugs, no skin off his nose. Looking back to Morgan, he shrugs, "To get the people out. At some point. One we find another way in." Keelyn's entrance gets the attention of Mac the medtech, the thirty-something man moving over to help her, "Rolled it up?"

Lionel is trying to help his friend go legit! Mostly… "Could also use something that might serve as an adequate distract to drug-addled zombies." Then something sparks his thoughts. "Remote speakers? If we pumped noise through one tunnel, could theoretically distract them in that direction…" He then looks over at Morgan, rolling his shoulders a bit. "Got to learn more about how the hell we are supposed to get into a Mountain meant to protect the Nation's Finest from nuclear annihilation… we so far… have a chute… that is probably lined in smooth metal, that goes up an unknown variable of meters, into what appears to be a top secret blood-draining facility… none of that makes me, from a tactical standpoint, squee with glee." When he spots Keelyn, he up-nods in greeting.

Hector side-eyes Grey, then nods, once. "Yeah." No sense in denying it. "Kid," he echoes with a bit of a snort. One of the two of them could be more easily called that. "She didn't make it, in case you were wondering." His heckles are up a little, but he tries to regain his swagger. It helps to have a problem to focus on. "What about just a flash bang? Set up some kind of trap? Might thin out the numbers a bit if you could corral some into a trap." He shakes his head at the description of the Mountain. "Don't ask me about tactics. I do engineering and recycling." And making under the table deals for contraband and hard-to-find items.

Keelyn laughs weakly, through a wince after her boot and sock come off. The ankle's probably not that bad, but she decided to report it immediately. Waving to others in the room, she's a little bit social before explaining her problem to the medtech. "Kind of. I was checking on the forge on the way back from my you know, rounds. I bumped into something hot, which sent me sort of jumping. Put my foot in the wrong spot and just came down on it all wrong." Though as her ankle is looked at, she listens in on the gossip going on around her. She may be a cadet only but she's definitely curious.

Oh. Well of course they're going back for that. It was the entire point. Morgan turns back to the terminal but then looks over at Keelyn when she limps in. Seems Mac has it though so he just answers Lionel. "It was made to withstand missiles from above right? So we use the fuel to blow open a hole from below." Pause. "I wonder if we can make a flamethrower. That would take out a large number of Reapers quickly."

"You keep thinkin' of them like zombies, they're gonna chop you up, Weeks. They use weapons, and they talk." Grey shakes his head, "I'm still fond of 'crazed killer cannibals.' But yeah. hardened target, crazy nutbars on the outside who want to kill us and eat us, and people with missiles and guns on the inside. Speakers might draw 'em out. But I guess that depends on how much noise the bosses wanna make." Morgan's suggestion draws a questioning look, "Aren't people like… pretty wet? Wouldn't that mean flamin' crazed killer cannibals running around?" He nods to Keelyn as well, then he looks from her to Hector and Lionel, "If we still got fuel, it'd be real useful. Do we?" He certainly sounds hopeful.

Mac crouches down and tests the ankle, rolling it back and forth, side to side, front and back, "Let me know how badly it hurts. It's probably just a strain, maybe a sprain. I don't think anything's broken. Don't mind them, boys and their toys. I'm surprised no one's talking about trying to missile the Mountain with its own missiles."

"First, no way is hydrazine safe enough to use in a flamethrower… you're talking about stuff that blows up through simple kinetic friction." Lionel looks seriously at Morgan. "I dated a chemist once," he adds dryly. "And… I'm not entirely convinced there is any fuel left… you gotta ask Saint Claire about that, but I'm pretty sure everything was used up in re-entry. But, there's gotta be other stuff you can use for a flash bang," Leo says.

Keelyn has her head up, listening to the talk of weapons. Her face grimaces repeatedly as her ankle is moved, but there's no sign of the agony that might crop up if she had a break or a tear. "It's not so bad," she mutters to Mac, before lifting her head again to talk to the others. "Flamethrowers. Pardon me for butting in, but don't those like, blow up the person using them, as much as the person they're aimed at anyway?" Hey she paid attention to weapons in school!

"We just need powdered magnesium or aluminum and some kind of oxidizer. That should be doable. We got enough scraps we're starting to salvage. How many I could put together would be the question, and do we know if a flash bang would even draw them out?" Hector rocks back and forth on his guest chair as he thinks. At one point, he spins right around. "I uh, hate to point out the elephant in the room but, are we going to try and save these Reapers? I mean, if they're hopped up on drugs it might be possible to save 'em."

"Just a thought. Using it for explosives would be better anyway." Morgan says, shrugging, then looks over at Grey. "When we lit the engines of the dropship, was that timed or did they just leave it on till the fuel was used up? Is there more still there?" Hector's question makes him look back at the man. "No. There's probably no saving for most of them. Their brains have been physically altered and damaged. Some that have been Reapers the shortest time might be salvageable but if they're trying to kill us…" He shrugs. Dead Reaper.

"Well, we got flash-bangs. But I dunno how ready for 'em Trikru're gonna be." Grey frowns in thought at that, considering. "Don't get me wrong, I'd love to toss one next to a couple of those jackholes and watch 'em shit bricks, but in general, it might be bad news." He nods at Keelyn's description of flamethrowers, "Maybe? Probably? Gotta admit I didn't study flamethrowers. I mean… it's kinda about the most dangerous weapon possible on a space station." Hector's question about the elephant in the room causes Grey to point to Morgan, "His area." And then he's answering Morgan's question with a broad shrug — that causes him to wince as his battered ribs protest, "Hell if I know, man. I was too busy being pissed we ran into the dropship and not over the wall, and then too glad I was inside the dropship and the door was shut."

Lionel shrugs a shoulder at Hector's concern for the Reapers. "Dunno, man… not my area or pay grade… but, if you were turned into a Reaper, I'd put your ass in rehab real fast." Hopefully before Hector ate him. His gaze cuts between Grey and Morgan then, and he grimaces. "I'm gettin' real tired of feeling like I gotta be gimped because we're worried about diplomacy. First no guns, then no flash bangs… next you're going to tell me I gotta shave my head, smear shit all over my face, and carry around a sword… I got a hard enough time not tripping over goddamn fallen trees… I'd like to not feel totally useless when push comes to shove." He looks over at Keelyn. "Easy there, firebug… let's not go lighting our brand new forest on fire."

"Well, just saying. When the dust settles and the Mountain is more of a crater…" Hector clearly has great confidence in them, "…us saving a couple Reapers would probably go a long way into smoothing things out with the Grounders." He stops spinning and stares up at the ceiling as he tries to puzzle things out. "Look, strategy isn't really my thing. But present me with a particular problem and I'll try to think up some kind of gizmo to help out."

"Hey, don't knock swords." Morgan says, patting the one at his hip." He's gotten very fond of it in the last month or so. "But I think you can be sure you'll have a gun with you when we attack the mountain. It might make the Trikru nervous but since the ban on them was to keep from antagonizing the mountain, I think attacking them makes that kind of meaningless." Looking over at Hector, he says "Grey, that was an electronic lock by the airlock into the mountain right? So can you make something to open that kind of lock?"

Keelyn looks at the med in front of her, as he explains that all she needs to do is keep it warm and it'll be fine. "In this weather I think it'd be harder not to," she grins in reply before looking back to the others. "Yeah if I got asked to use a flamethrower I'd suddenly get sick that day," she grins.

<FS3> Grey rolls Wit+wit: Success. (8 5 5 1)

Grey shakes his head, "Not diplomacy, Weeks. Smarts. If we don't know how they're gonna react to flashbangs, I don't wanna find out when there's a dozen crazed killer cannibals rushing at us." His smile widens into something very toothy indeed, "But if any of the Trikru try to tell us that we can't bring guns to attack the Mountain, I'm liable to shove the barrel of mine up their ass and pull the trigger." Probably not literally. He chuckles at Keelyn, "Yeah. I'll stick to a rifle and a shock baton, thanks. Or a sword, but that's like… way down the list. Down around 'sapling with a sharp point.'" Morgan's question of him causes him to frown in thought, his eyes almost closing as he runs through the scene in his head, or rather, the video of it, since the scene itself is a blur of shouting, falling Lip, falling nearly-dead-dude, and running. "I… think so? I think it might've been a key card reader?"

"I need light, man," Lionel says to Hector, and manages not to make a Fifth Element joke — at least out loud. In his head, he is using his best impression and going Aziz! LIGHT! He watches Hector spin round, and then he offers him a quick, but brilliantly boyish grin. "And maybe a cloak of invisibility. But, I got priorities. Light first, then invisibility, and then I would like to fly." He quiets for a moment, letting one of the med techs wrap his leg now that the icky black goo as dried. He looks over at Morgan, and nods. "The Trikru got numbers… thousands, apparently… and don't get me wrong… they got skills, and experience… but we can't help if they don't let us use our own skills and experience." You know, as riot police and patrolling. Lionel's got his policeman walk down perfect at this point!

"There are four…lights!" quotes Hector as he holds one hand up in the air. Lionel is not the only one who can make nerdy pop culture references. "I'll do my best. But our controlled re-entry wasn't very…controlled. I find myself scrambling for stuff we had in abundance up in the air, and working with junk that used to be critical systems. As for the key lock. He stops, groans softly, then shakes his head. "Not without examining it. You'd be best to use brute force. They probably aren't prepared for explosives, since Grounders don't really have those."

Keelyn rubs her ankle a bit to warm it up, just using the friction, while trying not to move it. She then carefully gets her sock and boot back on. "Explosives. That's why those were invented. You can like, make sure the person using it can get away, so we stay safe, but they don't."

Aaaaaaand they're back to explosives. Which was what Morgan asked Jumar about when he first saw the video. "Yeah, pretty much what I thought. We need to check out the dropship and see if there's any fuel left. Unfortunately, Cole and Tink are both in the mountain so we can't ask them." Pause. "Wait. Grey. The ship Cam's mom came down in. It crashed but didn't explode. It might have hydrazine in it still."

<FS3> Lionel rolls Warcraft: Good Success. (4 7 8 4 3 7)

Grey rolls his eyes a little at Lionel's requests, but still chuckles, "Serious skills in the woods. But going up against guns, they're gonna need guns too. Us. And the know-how to use 'em." Hector's quote causes Grey to frown in puzzlement, then shake it off. Morgan's excitement causes him to shrug, "Maybe. I got no idea how you put together somethin' safe enough to carry into Reaper-filled tunnels. But maybe gunpowder? I mean, there's gotta be someone who came down who knows how to make more. Why not just build a bomb that way? Easier, safer…"

"Five lights, Hector… five lights…" Even if Hector is right, but that's the joke. Weeks looks up at the mention of explosives, and he grimaces a bit. "As long as we don't go trying to use explosives in a tunnel. I believe that, that leads to things like… collapses, and falling rocks. None of which sound peachy keen to me." He starts to get up, easing himself onto his feet. He rolls down his pantleg, and starts to wriggle his foot back into his Guard-issue boot. He then considers something, and then shrugs. "Now, blowing up their dam, that sounds like right ol' fun. Dams generate power, right? Blow power, and I bet all those fancy seals won't really do much sealing anymore." Or they could seal for all eternity, but Lionel doesn't say that aloud.

"Fuel's not the only thing that explodes, you know," says Hector with a waggle of a finger. "Hell, a whole shit-ton of stuff will explode given the right conditions. Engineers on the Ark spent most of their time trying to avoid any kind of explosions so we wouldn't all die horribly. You want kabooms? I can make kabooms. The tricky part is…" he snap-points at Grey. "Exactly. Transport. And making it go off when you want it to go off." He watches Lionel getting to his feet with a small frown, like he's not sure his friend should be doing that yet. But he keeps his mouth shut. "It'd be a shame to blow up the dam, though. Having that kind of power source would be…" he lets out a low whistle. "I wonder if we could just disable the generators."

Morgan doesn't know from fuel and explosives. He's a doctor. But… Hector seems to know about explosives and he turns a considering look on the man. "You sound like you know what you're doing when it comes to kabooms. You should come with us. Make the explosives, set them, trigger them. Just hang out in the back till we've killed the Reapers."

Keelyn walks around a little, trying the ankle. "Yeah it's not broken. I wish I knew something about how to make explosives and stuff. Just um, how to use them," she snickers. "I know what I do is important but sometimes just… watching. It's hard to stay focused. Well good luck everyone."

"And what's behind a dam, Weeks?" Water. Grey snorts softly, "And where does the water go?" Everywhere downriver. Still, he nods a bit, "I was thinkin' the dam too. I saw it in the images I pulled from the Intranet but no info on it." He nods to Hector as well, "If they get their power from it, boom, no lights, no cameras, no fog, no missiles, no nothin'. And, if they've gotta keep it working, they've gotta have a way to get from the dam to inside, right?" Morgan's suggestion causes Grey to shift a little… more civilians onboard. He nods to Keelin, "I'm sure it'll be all-Guards-on-deck, except the people here guardin' the camp. So I'm sure you'll have a chance to get in on it."

At Morgan's words, Lionel glances to Hector. Hector knows that look. He's probably seen it on Lionel's face at other crossroads when Hector could choose to do something for the GREATER GOOD instead of just the Valentine Mission Statement. He offers a slight rise of his bushy brows, nodding toward Morgan as if to say, Well… here's your chance… He swings his guard jacket up and over his shoulders before seamlessly sliding his arms into it. He shakes the shoulders into place, and reaches to buckle his weapon's belt back around his hips. He claps Hector on his shoulder, squeezing, and then he looks to Grey with a serious nod. "Yup… even fucking Breens." He says this almost good-naturedly. Almost.

"Um. No, no that doesn't sound like a thing I want to do," says Hector, eyes wide. It doesn't matter how many meaningful looks Lionel gives him. "I'm a non-combatant. You don't need someone out there who can't defend themselves. Surely there's engineers still alive who know how to handle a gun." The Valentine Mission Statement has its flaws, but it has also kept his family alive. It's a creed that says, don't go doing anything stupid that might get you killed - in general and especially if it doesn't really stand to benefit you all that much.

"You'd be in the back." Morgan tells Hector. "Not fighting. You'd only come up front to set the bomb and set it off. Maybe you could disable their power too if it's by the dam. Disable it without us needing to destroy it. If not, teach me to do it. Maybe we can get someone else, maybe not. It needs to be done no matter what."

Grey nods at Lionel, "Yup!" And then he looks back to Hector, flashing a broad smile, "Who said anything about givin' you a gun, man?" His smile takes on a crooked cast, "But I get it. Not bein' willing to rescue people who'd come lookin' for you in a second." He glances to Morgan, "Whatcha think, Cam, Q, Max? You think they'd hesitate for even a second?" Shame. Shame. Shame.

"I'd be a burden out there, swear to god," says Hector, hands up. "I'll do all I can to equip you so you're in good shape, but me going out there is not going to actually help anyone. I'm more likely to get someone killed." He's notably not looking Lionel's way.

"In a second." Morgan agrees, not looking away from Hector. "But I guess that doesn't matter much to some people. So build the bomb and teach me how to use it. If we find an engineer willing to go, great. If not, I'll do it myself. We'll probably need two if they're set up like airlocks."

"A couple of us should know. In case none of the techies want to go." Grey's challenging smile shuts off like a light, "And in case any of us get dropped." And then he pushes up off the table he was sitting on, collecting his makeshift knife from the bedside table. The extension of his left arm shows that he still has the medical bracelet around his left wrist, even if most of the Ark is in pieces or here around him. The shard of dropship metal gets tucked into the back of his belt, and he shakes his head. "Screw it, man. They haven't had time to figure out how important clan is down here."

"I think you boys overestimate my usefulness. I'm not an engineer." Hector hesitates, pulls air through his teeth. "Well, I am, but I'm a scrapper. What I'm good at is pulling components apart without breaking things and figuring out where they'd be useful. That's not the kind of engineer you need on this mission."

Lionel has been staying out of it, but then he offers with a small grunt, "Cm'on guys… Hector can still do good even if he isn't going to be in the field… say shit like that, and you're going to make everyone feel like they can't help out." He does glance toward Hector. "If H can get us some explosives, or set us up, I'm obedient enough to follow his instructions." Mostly.

Morgan gives Grey a look of agreement but doesn't comment. "There's lots for the Arkkru to do to help. Explosives will be good. And yeah, several people should know how to use them. Think you can put something nicely destructive by tomorrow? Then you can teach the three of us."

"Well, if you can't figure out how to pull a door apart, with or without breaking it, we'll totally talk to someone else." There's no rancor in the Guardsman's voice now, just a verbal sort of shrug, "And yeah, Weeks, not everyone can come along, and not everyone should. But I ain't gonna leave them in there a day longer than I have to. It's…" he shrugs his right shoulder, "kinda eatin' at me. At most of us. The people in there were closer'n family for the rest of the One Hundred." Or at least the members of the One Hundred who had horrible families.

Hector is looking a little bit tense. He stands up and pulls a small lion beanie-type toy from his sack. He tosses it at Lionel. "I'll see what I can pull together." He smiles a bit tightly, nudges Lionel's shoulder, then heads for the door. The lack of quips should say something to his friend, at least.

"I get it, man," Lionel says, voice quite empathetic. He even reaches to clasp Grey on the shoulder, shaking him slightly. "But, to go in without a solid plan means we might get more people killed, or captured, or…" And his throat tightens. "Or worse. We are not going to waste time, drag our feet, but there's lots going on besides the Mountain… the Water Project keeps getting stalled, the food techs are almost out of soy product, and there's still parts of Alpha Station without full power even if the solar panels are working, so… let's not just go all crazy tunnel vision. We got this, but there's other stuff that other people gotta do too." And he looks around him before he gives Hector's shoulder a passing shove with his own — a gentle passing gesture. "I'm starved, speaking of which…" And he swings out his leg a bit dramatically to fall into stride after Hector.

"The water project won't be fed to Reapers." Morgan counters coolly. "Or turned into them. Or drained of their blood. And if the lives of twenty two of our people aren't enough, how about six hundred? Because for all we know, we could be hit with a missile any day thus making the water project irrelevant. Taking out the mountain is the only thing that should count right now."

Lionel's hand coming for his shoulder causes Grey to tense up, leaning back away from the pressure. The words don't help either, and he nods at Morgan's words, "I don't give a shit if we don't have power everywhere, not if it slows down gettin' those people out. That can happen after we get 'em back." Grudgingly, he adds, "Food… food's gotta happen now. And water. But that's it, man." He steps away, rotating his left arm and wincing, "Shit, Morgan, how the hell long're my ribs gonna feel like they're crackin' every time I move?"

"Depends on how long you keep abusing them." Morgan counters, turning back to the terminal. "Keep Gideon on top till they heal."

"Screw that, man. Too much of a good thing's still too much." And then Grey nods and heads out of the Infirmary himself.

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