| Four Letter Word Starts With D |
| Summary: | Dell learns the proper usage of the word sir. |
| Date: | PHD 242 |
| Related Logs: | None. |
| Players: |
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Dell makes his way into the Sec Station, MP he is not but a marine he is and he steps into the room as he looks for someone with a higher rank, privates, this is what they do. He holds a clipboard in his hand so the reason he is here must be semi-offical since clipboards mean information is being exchanged.
Sitting at the back of the security station is Kalson. He's slowly working his way through what appears to be quite the stack of reports. He grumbles mostly to himself as he flips through the pages and signs or checks off things.
Dell walks over to Kalson and he offers a crisp salute, "Sir." He says as he waits to be addressed. The gruff looking marine stands at full attention as he waits to be spoken to, well, someone is fresh out of basic.
"Gods. Really? Do you see any bars on this uniform Private?" Kalson asks, looking up from his reading and inspecting Dell with a rather jaundiced eye. "You're one of those Kharon flunkies too, aintcha Private?" he asks.
Dell doesn't bat an eye as he says, "Sir, yes, sir." He continues to hold the clipboard in one hand and he remains at full attention as he waits for the order to be at ease, that is, if it ever comes. He offers no additional information for the time being since he has no idea how Kalson feels about the Kharon.
"Go outside. Come back in. Try this again Private." Kalson says, returning his gaze to his papers.
Dell glances down at Kalson and he walks outside as a, "Son of a bitch!" can be heard and when he reappears he places the clipboard on Kalson's desk, "I was ordered to bring this to you." This time there is no sir and there is no salute. Dell it would seem does not like having to do the same thing twice.
Kalson continues where he was earlier. He's still looking over the same file as Dell returns and holds out whatever it is he's carrying to Kalson. He looks at it for a moment, grunts, and then nods to his inbox, "Set it there, Private. Now. Let's address the startling problem of identification you had earlier. What is my rank, Private?" he asks, conversationally.
"You are a Gunnery Sergeant, sir." Is all that comes from Dells mouth as his face looks as grumpy as ever, there isn't even a hint of a smile on his face, then again there never is. His tone is as respectful as he can make it at the moment which is to say he isn't being disrespectful though he is starting to wonder what sort of outfit he is in.
Sitting at one of the security console displays toward the back of the security station, dressed in blacks and on-duty, Cinder has managed to hold her tongue and keep from spinning around to watch this long. At this point, however, she can't resist anymore. Spinning in her chair a little, making it look like she needs to talk to someone else on duty, or speak to the MaA himself, she listens to Dell's answer. Maybe she should take bets on what sort of punishment is going to be doled out for this?
"That I am Private. Do you know the difference between myself and let's say..Lieutenant Tombs?" Kalson asks, grinning just a little as Dell speaks. He's got a bit of a dangerous gleam in his eye as he stands up.
Dell says, "Tombs is at a higher paygrade, sir." He doesn't say much other than that as he isn't much of a talker and as he is doesn't want to offer up unneeded information at the moment. To his credit he is keeping his trap shut though the look on his face indicates that he does not enjoy being questioned since he came in and did what he was taught to do in boot and now he is being taught the opposite.
Uh-oh, that can't be good. Seems like there's quite a few differences between the two men, in addition to paygrade. Of course, Cinder can think that way, now that she's already had her lesson on this very same topic. Oh, she so wants to open her mouth and give Dell the answer, but then he won't learn nothin'!
Kalson just stares at Dell, outright. He then digs into his desk drawer and pulls out a familiar looking volume. Its the handbook that all Colonial Marines are given when they enter the service, detailing what their duty is in lots of long, ill worded verbiage. "Do you know what this is, Private?" he asks.
Dell doesn't look phased or intimidated as his eyes remain on Kalson, "That would be the Handbook for Colonial Marines, sir, I had to read it inside and out during boot." He says as he stands not at ease but not at attention either. He has his hands clasped behind him as he waits for what the Seargent is going to say next. He isn't indignant but he isn't exactly sunshine and moonbeams either.
"Private Brand!" Kalson calls, "Come here for a moment if you would be so kind." He then holds the manual out to Dell and says, "You say you read this cover to cover, during boot? Every last word?" As he says this he starts to walk around the desk, and adds, "Turn to page forty five if you would and read the heading to me, aloud." The heading is: Proper Forms of Address for Enlisted and Commissioned Personel.
"Yes Gunny!" Cinder calls out. After securing her station, she pops up to her feet, and heads on over to Kalson's desk. Sliding around front, the same side as Dell, she watches and waits.
Dell stands there still with his hands behind his back and he doesn't even move, if this is a lesson the former farmer isn't shrinking from it, instead he is in a more bring it on and teach me kind of mode - then again will the lesson get through his stubborn head - well - maybe.
"Fair enough. Maybe you heard this one already. The title on page forty five is: Proper Forms of Address for Enlisted and Commissioned Personel." Kalson says, holding the book open in front of Dell for him to see. "Private Brand, do you address a Non Commissioned Officer as Sir, at any time?"
"No Gunny, you do not. Never ever for NCOs." Cinder can say that with some confidence now, having read that specific section of the CMC manual from start to finish in some detail…while on a lap of the battlestar. Which is a lot bigger than the carrier. A whole frakkin' lot bigger.
Dell still stands there and he doesn't move in fact, no part of him moves, is he even breathing? He remains silent since opening his mouth would lead to greater complications and he is smart enough to know that.
"You. Do. NOT. A Gunnery Sergeant is a Non Commissioned Officer. You call me, Gunny, Gunnery Sergeant, or Sergeant. Do you understand Private Triptolemus?" Kalson asks, coming to a stop right behind Dell.
Like Dell, Cinder just stands there at loose attention, watching the MaA out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't speak up…not her turn to learn the lesson tonight.
Dell says, "Yes, Gunny, I understand." This is all that is offered to Kalson as the surly little marine just stands there without flinching, stubborn marine is stubborn, and this marine is extra stubborn though even Dell can learn a lesson.
However under his breath Dell utters, "Dick."
"Who is your squad leader, Private?" Kalson asks in a tone that suggests he probably heard that last little bit from Dell. He walks around to the front of his desk and glares at the man.
Dell says, "That would be Seargent Volker, Gunny." He offers this and little more and as he gets glared at there is an almost amused twinkle in his eye.
"Dismissed Private. Sergent Volker will be hearing from me about your behavior." Kalson replies crisply.
Dell sniffs the air and after that he shrugs since the private is the lowest on the food chain and he doesn't mind any amount of yelling or cleaning the head since he spoke his mind and said how he felt.
