The communications turnaround to Jackson's Whole is long enough that a few minutes either way is near-guaranteed to be swallowed up by en-route delays, but any more than that would just be self-indulgent. He drags himself from the table, parks in front of a comconsole, and composes a vid message to Captain Thorne.
"Bel," he starts off, "as you may or may not be aware, you've been travelling with the wrong Naismith. I don't know what the two of you think you're doing out there, and I don't care. You are to scan the little shit's bones if you haven't already, and when you verify that he is not me, you are to turn around and make all haste back to Escobar. I will meet you en route. Do not fuck with me on this one. I'm sure Mark's intentions are good, but I will not tolerate impersonation, no matter how well-meaning."
He pauses, considering priorities, then adds: "If he seems inclined to flee when he hears I'm after him, don't bother trying to chase him down and haul him back to me. The important part here is reuniting you with the fleet. I trust that you find these orders clear and unambiguous." And will therefore not deliberately waste time sending back clarification requests until Mark has already grabbed a double fistful of your easily-tugged Betan heartstrings and dragged you into God knows what sort of trouble trying to save all of Jackson's Whole with one commando squad. He trusts this subtext is conveyed by his expression. "Naismith out."
Then he gets the message sealed and sent, and spends a little while longer poring over the mission files and muttering obscenities. Fucking Mark. This could be anything from misguided heroics to a bizarre and elaborate prank. The one thing he's sure it isn't is a trap. Mark has made it very clear what he thinks of being used as a weapon against Miles. If somebody were to try it against Mark's will, Miles's expectations lie firmly in the area of 'and the body was never found'.
So.
He calls up to Nav and Com again, and the comm officer on duty obligingly locates Baz, Elena, and Elli and directs them back to the briefing room. Miles awaits them calmly for about three seconds, and then jumps to his feet and starts pacing.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2015-07-22 10:53 pm (UTC)"Bel," he starts off, "as you may or may not be aware, you've been travelling with the wrong Naismith. I don't know what the two of you think you're doing out there, and I don't care. You are to scan the little shit's bones if you haven't already, and when you verify that he is not me, you are to turn around and make all haste back to Escobar. I will meet you en route. Do not fuck with me on this one. I'm sure Mark's intentions are good, but I will not tolerate impersonation, no matter how well-meaning."
He pauses, considering priorities, then adds: "If he seems inclined to flee when he hears I'm after him, don't bother trying to chase him down and haul him back to me. The important part here is reuniting you with the fleet. I trust that you find these orders clear and unambiguous." And will therefore not deliberately waste time sending back clarification requests until Mark has already grabbed a double fistful of your easily-tugged Betan heartstrings and dragged you into God knows what sort of trouble trying to save all of Jackson's Whole with one commando squad. He trusts this subtext is conveyed by his expression. "Naismith out."
Then he gets the message sealed and sent, and spends a little while longer poring over the mission files and muttering obscenities. Fucking Mark. This could be anything from misguided heroics to a bizarre and elaborate prank. The one thing he's sure it isn't is a trap. Mark has made it very clear what he thinks of being used as a weapon against Miles. If somebody were to try it against Mark's will, Miles's expectations lie firmly in the area of 'and the body was never found'.
So.
He calls up to Nav and Com again, and the comm officer on duty obligingly locates Baz, Elena, and Elli and directs them back to the briefing room. Miles awaits them calmly for about three seconds, and then jumps to his feet and starts pacing.