Case Study: Karma
- Thread starter Marauder06
- Start date
I believe "Cat West" might be next to the "Boiling Cauldron"? N'est pas, Sir? Or is it near "Nicks's"?
a possibility
CPT James has had a recent head trauma, or possibly picked up meningitis overseas. Untreated stage 3 syphyllis presenting as neural symptomology is also a possibility. Or he has long term low level mercury poisoning.
medically I went with the horse, then zebra then your gay unicorns with rainbows shooting out their asses.... I still have nightnmares over some of your clip art...
a possibility
CPT James has had a recent head trauma, or possibly picked up meningitis overseas. Untreated stage 3 syphyllis presenting as neural symptomology is also a possibility. Or he has long term low level mercury poisoning.
medically I went with the horse, then zebra then your gay unicorns with rainbows shooting out their asses.... I still have nightnmares over some of your clip art...
:sick:
does Mrs. Mara know? .... nice job Rick... kick the officer has no rules!
"handbags at dawn," I like that. That might have to work its way into the story.
The Stab and Jab is crowded and noisy, as it usually is this time of day. You recognize several people from Group as well as some of your friends from other units on the base. CPT James joins the line a few patrons behind you, still wearing his beret. While you’re mulling over the irony that he doesn’t seem to want to wear it outside, but inside he doesn’t want to take it off, you see a familiar face emerge from the bathroom. “Hi Chief Rollins!” MSG Reyolds says happily. Chief Andrea Rollins is the counterintelligence warrant officer for your detachment. Fit, pretty, and 25 years old, she turns heads wherever she goes.
“Join us for lunch?” Reynolds asks. “Love to,” she replies, “But I’m meeting someone.” “No problem, bring her along and we’ll make it a foursome,” Reynolds counters. You mentally cringe at the unintended double entendre, but Rollins just laughs.
“Hey sir, I hear you and the S2 got into another little catfight this afternoon,” Chief Rollins prods, “a real, ‘handbags at 20 paces’ thing.”
“That just happened!” you exclaim, “How the hell is it that you’ve already heard about this?” you exclaim.
“Hey sir, sources and methods,” she replies, meaning that she’s not going to give up who told her. But seeing CPT Criss emerge from the bathroom on the other side of the lobby, it’s not hard to put two and two together. CPT Criss sees you and smiles. You glare back at him, with what you hope is a menacing glare. CPT Criss never could keep his mouth shut about “interesting” things that went on in those meetings. Seeing CPT James in line behind you, Chief Rollins goes over to say hello.
“I just thought about the story you told about her out at Rota,” Reynolds whispers as she walks away.
“We are DEFINITELY not going to talk about THAT again,” you respond, mentally flashing back to the disaster that was the Soul Plane Incident.
“Hi, sir!” Chief Rollins says cheerily to CPT James. The two have a brief but animated conversation, during which time Chief Rollins gently reaches up and removes CPT James’ green beret and hands it over to him, without breaking the conversation. CPT James, smiling, returns the beret to his cargo pocket. Seeing her lunch date arrive outside, Chief Rollins breaks off from CPT James and exits the building.
“I guess all that ‘don’t touch my green hat’ stuff doesn’t apply to women,” MSG Reynolds mutters.
After paying for your meals and making your way through the buffet lines, you and MSG Reynolds are lucky enough to find a large, open table already occupied by CPT Criss. Chief Rollins joins you, as does her dinner date who is not another female as you assumed, but an actual “date” date- a man who looks vaguely familiar to you.
“Holy crap- hello Paul!” you say, standing up to shake his hand. “I didn’t recognize you without that beard.” Paul, a Special Forces NCO, was instrumental in helping to save your ass during the Soul Plane incident, something for which you will always be grateful.
policemedic
Verified SWAT
Nice one
Thanks to Mac_NZ ;)
More people join in and soon you’re pushing tables together to accommodate everyone. In addition to you, MSG Reynolds, Chief Rollins and Paul (whose last name, you now learn, is “Walden,”) CPT Criss and a friend of his sit down. CPT Criss is halfway through introducing his friend when you recognize him, as well. More accurately, MSG Reynolds recognizes him.
“Hey, it’s CPT Cho, good to see you again, sir,” says MSG Reynolds, standing up to shake CPT Cho’s hand. You recall that CPT Cho was the commander of (now-former) Specialist Jody Schum, who had been fooling around with one of your Soldiers’ wives on your last deployment. As the introductions are made, you notice that instead of the “Screaming Eagle” patch that adorned CPT Cho’s left sleeve the last time you saw him, he now sports an arrowhead patch with a black embroidered dagger.
“So, did you cross over the airfield and into the dark side?” you ask him. The 16th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SAVE) is located on the far side of the airfield from the various co-located conventional forces, and “crossing the airfield” is often used as a euphemism for joining the unit.
“Yes,” responds CPT Cho, smiling. “I got picked up for the unit shortly after we met. Now I get to be the sponsor for Simon,” he adds, gesturing towards CPT Criss.
“Hey, you have any more room over there?” asks Chief Rollins.
“You need a new job, Chief?” inquires CPT Cho.
“Oh, no, not at all,” Chief Rollins replies. “But the way I hear it, my commander is going to need a new job soon if he keeps pissing off the Group S2.” Everyone at the table seems to think that this joke at your expense is pretty funny.
“We’re always looking for good intel types,” says CPT Cho.
“That’s cool, I have a job I like in the unit I’m with,” you reply. “Besides, the unit is about to go through a major transition and I’m going to stick around and help them through it.”
“Good man,” replies CPT Cho. “But keep us in mind if you change your mind.”
“Speak of the devil,” says MSG Reynolds abruptly, and you look up to see the Group S2, a handful of his staff, and a woman you do not know walk by and occupy a table a couple of rows away. Aftershe passes, CPT Criss sums up the sentiment of the men at the table, accurately if inappropriately:
“That is the hottest lieutenant of any branch, that I’ve ever seen,” he says loudly.
“I’ll drink to that,” adds CPT Cho, raising a glass of sweet tea.
“Well, I guess now you know what the Group S2 was keeping that 1LT for himself,” MSG Reynolds adds.
“That’s going to be nothing but trouble for the Group,” mutters Chief Reynolds.
“Come on Chief, you’re still the hottest warrant in the MID,” chides CPT Criss.
“I’m the ONLY female warrant in the Group,” she counters.
“I rest my case,” Criss replies. Everyone is amused by this exchange, but you can’t help but think that one day Simon Criss’s mouth is going to get him into deep trouble- trouble spelled “EO.”
You’re just about to dig into your plate of steaming food, when you hear a voice above you. “May I join you?” The word “sure” is almost out of your mouth before you look up and see CPT James. Stunned for a second, you say nothing. “Sure, sir, we’ll make room for you!” Chief Reynolds says, cheerily. CPT James scrounges a chair and pulls it right up next to you.
“This will be interesting,” whispers MSG Reynolds.
When CPT James sits down beside you, you notice he has made some strange food choices. It’s Chinese Food day at the Stab n Jab, and CPT James’ plate represents a wide variety of the menu. It looks like a slice of cheese pizza serves as a base, with egg rolls, rice, and maybe some broccoli piled on top. It’s hard to tell because everything is smothered with a generous helping of vanilla pudding. It seems an odd selection for someone who is reported to pride himself on physical fitness.
“Hey, it’s CPT Cho, good to see you again, sir,” says MSG Reynolds, standing up to shake CPT Cho’s hand. You recall that CPT Cho was the commander of (now-former) Specialist Jody Schum, who had been fooling around with one of your Soldiers’ wives on your last deployment. As the introductions are made, you notice that instead of the “Screaming Eagle” patch that adorned CPT Cho’s left sleeve the last time you saw him, he now sports an arrowhead patch with a black embroidered dagger.
“So, did you cross over the airfield and into the dark side?” you ask him. The 16th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SAVE) is located on the far side of the airfield from the various co-located conventional forces, and “crossing the airfield” is often used as a euphemism for joining the unit.
“Yes,” responds CPT Cho, smiling. “I got picked up for the unit shortly after we met. Now I get to be the sponsor for Simon,” he adds, gesturing towards CPT Criss.
“Hey, you have any more room over there?” asks Chief Rollins.
“You need a new job, Chief?” inquires CPT Cho.
“Oh, no, not at all,” Chief Rollins replies. “But the way I hear it, my commander is going to need a new job soon if he keeps pissing off the Group S2.” Everyone at the table seems to think that this joke at your expense is pretty funny.
“We’re always looking for good intel types,” says CPT Cho.
“That’s cool, I have a job I like in the unit I’m with,” you reply. “Besides, the unit is about to go through a major transition and I’m going to stick around and help them through it.”
“Good man,” replies CPT Cho. “But keep us in mind if you change your mind.”
“Speak of the devil,” says MSG Reynolds abruptly, and you look up to see the Group S2, a handful of his staff, and a woman you do not know walk by and occupy a table a couple of rows away. Aftershe passes, CPT Criss sums up the sentiment of the men at the table, accurately if inappropriately:
“That is the hottest lieutenant of any branch, that I’ve ever seen,” he says loudly.
“I’ll drink to that,” adds CPT Cho, raising a glass of sweet tea.
“Well, I guess now you know what the Group S2 was keeping that 1LT for himself,” MSG Reynolds adds.
“That’s going to be nothing but trouble for the Group,” mutters Chief Reynolds.
“Come on Chief, you’re still the hottest warrant in the MID,” chides CPT Criss.
“I’m the ONLY female warrant in the Group,” she counters.
“I rest my case,” Criss replies. Everyone is amused by this exchange, but you can’t help but think that one day Simon Criss’s mouth is going to get him into deep trouble- trouble spelled “EO.”
You’re just about to dig into your plate of steaming food, when you hear a voice above you. “May I join you?” The word “sure” is almost out of your mouth before you look up and see CPT James. Stunned for a second, you say nothing. “Sure, sir, we’ll make room for you!” Chief Reynolds says, cheerily. CPT James scrounges a chair and pulls it right up next to you.
“This will be interesting,” whispers MSG Reynolds.
When CPT James sits down beside you, you notice he has made some strange food choices. It’s Chinese Food day at the Stab n Jab, and CPT James’ plate represents a wide variety of the menu. It looks like a slice of cheese pizza serves as a base, with egg rolls, rice, and maybe some broccoli piled on top. It’s hard to tell because everything is smothered with a generous helping of vanilla pudding. It seems an odd selection for someone who is reported to pride himself on physical fitness.
Lunch lasts over an hour, mainly because everyone is having such a good time. CPT Criss is a bonafide raconteur and soon had the entire table in stitches, laughing loudly at his stories. He was even able to relate the Soul Train incident in a manner that even you found humorous. Well, mildly humorous. CPT James also chimed in, and you find yourself laughing at some of his stories in spite of yourself. Your group is one of last ones to break up and head back to work, when someone finally notices the time. As you get up to put your tray away, you notice CPT James hasn’t touched his plate. The pudding he had spread over everything has settled and oozed across the plate, making it look like a plateful of puke. “I probably wouldn’t eat that either,” you think as you set your tray in a large floor rack walk towards the exit. CPT James, now sitting alone at the table, looks confused for a second before he gets up and starts making his way towards the exit, leaving his tray, a cup, and an almost-empty pitcher of water behind on the table.
As you and MSG Reyolds get into your car to go back to work, you notice that CPT James seemed to remember to at least put his beret back on his head when he exited the Stab n Jab. “Looks like he’s trainable,” jokes MSG Reynolds.
It’s a short drive back to the Group compound, which is fortunate since you’re running a bit behind schedule. “Hey,” you say to MSG Reynolds, “CPT James didn’t eat his lunch, but he drank the hell out of that pitcher of water. What do you think is up with that?” “Well, did you see what he picked to eat?” replied MSG Reynolds, “I wouldn’t that shit either. And as far as the water goes, well maybe being an asshole is thirsty work.” It is hard to argue with logic like that.
The MID works out of what used to be the post stockade. The downstairs belongs to two “specialty” teams staffed by Special Forces types, but the upstairs where the offices are is all yours. Your boots make an eerie “pinging” noise as you climb the steel outdoor staircase to get into the building. As soon as you get in, SPC DeSilva passes you a note. “Sir, MAJ Ripley has been calling for you for you for over an hour. The last time he called he said, “Tell Faith to get his ass over to the Group conference room- RIGHT NOW.” It sounded important.” “Thanks DeSilva,” you say as you and MSG Reynolds promptly turn around and head back down the steps towards your car. “If it was so important, I wonder why he didn’t call me on my cell?” you wonder aloud. Pulling out your cell phone, you see “3 Missed Calls.” Oops. Maybe you shouldn’t have had it set to “vibrate.”
As you and MSG Reyolds get into your car to go back to work, you notice that CPT James seemed to remember to at least put his beret back on his head when he exited the Stab n Jab. “Looks like he’s trainable,” jokes MSG Reynolds.
It’s a short drive back to the Group compound, which is fortunate since you’re running a bit behind schedule. “Hey,” you say to MSG Reynolds, “CPT James didn’t eat his lunch, but he drank the hell out of that pitcher of water. What do you think is up with that?” “Well, did you see what he picked to eat?” replied MSG Reynolds, “I wouldn’t that shit either. And as far as the water goes, well maybe being an asshole is thirsty work.” It is hard to argue with logic like that.
The MID works out of what used to be the post stockade. The downstairs belongs to two “specialty” teams staffed by Special Forces types, but the upstairs where the offices are is all yours. Your boots make an eerie “pinging” noise as you climb the steel outdoor staircase to get into the building. As soon as you get in, SPC DeSilva passes you a note. “Sir, MAJ Ripley has been calling for you for you for over an hour. The last time he called he said, “Tell Faith to get his ass over to the Group conference room- RIGHT NOW.” It sounded important.” “Thanks DeSilva,” you say as you and MSG Reynolds promptly turn around and head back down the steps towards your car. “If it was so important, I wonder why he didn’t call me on my cell?” you wonder aloud. Pulling out your cell phone, you see “3 Missed Calls.” Oops. Maybe you shouldn’t have had it set to “vibrate.”
I'm worried about CPT James...
Yeah, I get the feeling he is a good guy who sometimes behaves like an asshole cause he is disoriented by problems, something like depression, PTSD and the like...
Driving at a speed you think is fast enough to get you to the Group conference room in a hurry, but hopefully not fast enough to get you a ticket from the overzealous installation police officers, you and MSG Reynolds arrive at the Group conference room just after a meeting of some sort was ending. It must have been pretty important, because the Group commander, the battalion commanders, and most of the battalion staff were making their way out of the room as you were making your way in. The Group S2, The Dud, gives you a smug look on his way out. MAJ Ripley does not look pleased. “Where the hell have you been?” he hisses, “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for an hour!” Without waiting for an answer, he adds, “Look, this new MTOE has everyone up in a tizzy. The Group is getting a whole new battalion, and each battalion commander has to give up some of their best officers and NCOs to get the battalion up and running. There are going to be a lot of people moving around. That’s why I was trying to get a hold of you.”
“I’m going to be the XO for the new battalion,” he says, closing the door to the conference room, leaving only you, MSG Reynolds, and himself inside. “I’m supposed to report on Monday. The Group commander wanted to get my backfill situation sorted out immediately, and with CPT Criss on the way out the door, that leaves CPT James.“
“That’s fine sir, I think Al James is a good pick for that position, given our situation,” you answer.
“Even if he is a little weird,” adds MSG Reynolds.
“Yeah, I know,” replies MAJ Ripley. “Something is wrong with CPT James. He isn’t the same person he was since he left for his last tour in Afghanistan. I’m telling you this and it’s NOT to be repeated. He had a lot of problems after he got back from Afghanistan the last time. Weird shit, like he stole a gas mask from one of the guys on his team, and then insisted it was his, even though the other guy’s name was written on the inside. Another time he didn’t show up for work for three straight days, the guys on his team covered for him until they got worried and went over to his place. They found him sitting on the couch in his underwear, apparently where he had been that entire time.”
“Wow!” exclaims MSG Reynolds
“Yeah, it gets worse. After that last incident, Al let his team sergeant talk him into self-referring for a psych evaluation. Everyone figured it was PTSD. The thing was, after a week of tests, he came back clean. No PTSD. One of the medics on his team also surreptitiously tested him for drugs, that came back clean too. And he was such a good guy for so long, no one wanted to see him flame out like that. So they pulled some strings and got him sent away to school up north for a couple of years, to give him a chance to pull his shit together. It seems to have worked, so the Group commander is going to give him a shot.”
You and MSG Reynolds glance at each other but say nothing.
“Look,” says Ripley, focusing his attention on you, “I wanted you to take over for me as the GSC commander. You’ve been here longer than any of the other commanders, except for Criss who is leaving, the Soldiers and the command group respect you, and you’re up for the job. But the Group commander made it very clear that no support guys will be in charge of guys with long tabs. So he decided to put James in as my backfill.”
“Sir, I’m flattered you would even consider me to take over the GSC,” you reply, “and the Group commander’s policy doesn’t make sense, because almost every primary staff officer has an NCOIC who is tabbed, and the SIGDET and SUPDETs have tabbed det sergeants working for untabbed OICs. But that’s fine, I’m quite happy to be the MID commander, and being the GSC commander looks like a LOT of work. I’ll be glad to work for CPT James to make sure the company keeps on going strong after you’re gone.”
MAJ Ripley takes a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s kind of what we need to talk about next.”
“I’m going to be the XO for the new battalion,” he says, closing the door to the conference room, leaving only you, MSG Reynolds, and himself inside. “I’m supposed to report on Monday. The Group commander wanted to get my backfill situation sorted out immediately, and with CPT Criss on the way out the door, that leaves CPT James.“
“That’s fine sir, I think Al James is a good pick for that position, given our situation,” you answer.
“Even if he is a little weird,” adds MSG Reynolds.
“Yeah, I know,” replies MAJ Ripley. “Something is wrong with CPT James. He isn’t the same person he was since he left for his last tour in Afghanistan. I’m telling you this and it’s NOT to be repeated. He had a lot of problems after he got back from Afghanistan the last time. Weird shit, like he stole a gas mask from one of the guys on his team, and then insisted it was his, even though the other guy’s name was written on the inside. Another time he didn’t show up for work for three straight days, the guys on his team covered for him until they got worried and went over to his place. They found him sitting on the couch in his underwear, apparently where he had been that entire time.”
“Wow!” exclaims MSG Reynolds
“Yeah, it gets worse. After that last incident, Al let his team sergeant talk him into self-referring for a psych evaluation. Everyone figured it was PTSD. The thing was, after a week of tests, he came back clean. No PTSD. One of the medics on his team also surreptitiously tested him for drugs, that came back clean too. And he was such a good guy for so long, no one wanted to see him flame out like that. So they pulled some strings and got him sent away to school up north for a couple of years, to give him a chance to pull his shit together. It seems to have worked, so the Group commander is going to give him a shot.”
You and MSG Reynolds glance at each other but say nothing.
“Look,” says Ripley, focusing his attention on you, “I wanted you to take over for me as the GSC commander. You’ve been here longer than any of the other commanders, except for Criss who is leaving, the Soldiers and the command group respect you, and you’re up for the job. But the Group commander made it very clear that no support guys will be in charge of guys with long tabs. So he decided to put James in as my backfill.”
“Sir, I’m flattered you would even consider me to take over the GSC,” you reply, “and the Group commander’s policy doesn’t make sense, because almost every primary staff officer has an NCOIC who is tabbed, and the SIGDET and SUPDETs have tabbed det sergeants working for untabbed OICs. But that’s fine, I’m quite happy to be the MID commander, and being the GSC commander looks like a LOT of work. I’ll be glad to work for CPT James to make sure the company keeps on going strong after you’re gone.”
MAJ Ripley takes a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s kind of what we need to talk about next.”
policemedic
Verified SWAT
Or, y'know, hyperglycemia.
Hmm, brain tumor?
Or some sort of brain disease. Who was the SF Soldier who went from being stellar to "disgraced" only to eventually be found to have an illness that killed him? I CRS...
Or some sort of brain disease. Who was the SF Soldier who went from being stellar to "disgraced" only to eventually be found to have an illness that killed him? I CRS...
You got a good memory! Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. "An extremely rare and fatal degenerative brain disorder akin to "mad-cow" disease that causes rapid, progressive dementia."
It was a very unfortunate incident as narrated here.
This could also be a case of undiagnosed low grade meningitis, stage 2 or 3 nerve end syphillis, stage 1 rabies, diabetes, nerve agent exposure, radiation exposure or a number of other undiagnosed infections.
There are also emotional and mental issues that would not come up on a PTSD screen, but cause similar secondary symptomology...
There are also emotional and mental issues that would not come up on a PTSD screen, but cause similar secondary symptomology...
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