Human Edge

Thankful that their second night on this rock had been less eventful than the first, Bruun is in reasonably good spirits as he arrives in the mess hall for his required coffee. It's on the early side still, maybe too early for most mechwarriors, but the scruffy veteran has rules. There's a way that things are supposed to be.

He slides into an empty booth to enjoy coffee before eating. He can see other people's plates, with bacon, eggs and fresh bread, and he maybe isn't taking too long to savor coffee time.

Karlotta got used to waking up early because she always slept as early as she could. She entered the mess for her always required breakfast right before action, just getting her food before she got distracted by something. This something was Brunn, entering a booth. She walked over and saw it was empty. "Oh, heya, first sergeant. Are you waiting for someone or can I sit here?"

"Morning Roth. Yes, sit." The veteran looks slightly discomforted, but he takes another drink from his coffee.

"Oh, how's the kid in the brig doing? Samuel, I think... Ha, yeah, I remembered it." Bruun looks quite pleased with himself.

Karlotta was dressed in a military uniform, but the top part was inside out.

She sits. "Well. I got the details on my noteputer if you want to see the report. He will recover if he doesn't try to do dumb shit. He hasn't taken a bath since he got shot, though."

Bruun nods. "That's good. The kid was pretty compliant after Miss Colette and I talked to him. Just another stupid kid that fell for somebody's sales pitch about being cool and making money, then finding out too late it was all BS. Or, in his case, he was your medical skill away from too late. So good work," Bruun raises his coffee cup in salute.

"He said something about joining the Slate Eaters to me, yeah. That's just disgusting, preying over people who know no better and all. He is pretty simple, the boy. Not dumb, just unscholarized." She took a bite. "Also, for the kid to take a bath, he needs a change. He only got the clothes he's wearing, which are still stained with his own blood."

Bruun agrees with her assessment, then grimaces that the kid is still in bloody clothes.

"Damn," he shakes his head. "Alright, I can probably scare up something. Oversized for him, but at least enough he can get cleaned up." Bruun scratches his beard thoughtfully.

"I'm glad you weren't hurt so bad you couldn't take care of him. That was a nasty shot you took the other night."

"That would be good for him, so he won't get an infection or something." She takes another bite of her toast. "Don't fret over me, that was just a bad habit. Not that I liked tanking it. You could have thrown yourself into the ground or take cover before shooting, you know. Standing in the crossfire like that was asking to die."

Bruun's a little taken aback by her bluntness. But he can't really argue.

"Er, well, thanks all the same. That was... That whole thing was a mess. Guess I lost my cool," he says, embarrassed. "I'm usually better about making choices to stay alive."

She chuckles. "Chill about it, I've seen worse. You are usually 10 meters from the ground behind some good dozen tons of steel as well. Besides, I woke up yesterday as if nothing had happened."