[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=steelblue]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a203/D__S/michael%20biehn/american%20dragons/tonyluca3.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Building [b]7[/b] (Rec Center)
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	The journey over to the buffet was short, in terms of raw, proximal distance, but this was a social gathering. There were bound to be little conversational pitfalls and obstacles that prevented Captain Holloway & Lt. Commander Martin from their direct yet discreet mission to move from Point A to Point B and secure personal foodstuffs. It was not ideal, but it was quite expected. What was not expected was a tiny grunt from Thana as soon as James came into clear view. A microsecond of hesitation told him all he needed to know. Thana's desire to be in that room was coming to an end. He stopped short and looked back at his guest, an uphrased question in his eyes. 

	In a second or two, Ash thought he understood. In hindsight, he really didn't get her motivation, but the baseline desire to wrap things up came through well enough. He gave her the smallest of nods, just enough to indicate a hint of understanding.

	It was about this time that one of the Security personnel at the event walked straight to Ash and asked him for a private and immediate word. An onlooker might see Ash's ordinarily neutral face dropped, slowly but surely, into a depressed scowl. Ash sighed heavily, thanked the man, and leaned in close to give him a set of orders. In response, he snapped to attention and gave him a sharp salute before moving immediately to the tables of food. The soldier grabbed two plates and began loading them up. 

	Meanwhile, Ashton turned back to Thana, intoning in a low voice, [color=steelblue]"I'm back on the clock, ma'am."[/color] His posture straightened considerably, and the semi-relaxed look he had in his eyes vanished, replaced with a distant glare common to combat officers and Irish mothers (loads of transferable skills between the two professions). [color=steelblue]"Please wait here. This should only take a minute."[/color] He scanned the crowd, eventually locating the object of his coming attentions. Luckily she was sitting alone at a table in the corner of the room, away from the main crowd. He approached with a discouraged look on his face. 

	[color=steelblue]"Leave the glass on the table, Bryn. Collect your plate, and go home. Consider yourself confined to quarters until tomorrow morning. Someone will be escorting you. Report to my office first thing - we will discuss your new job assignments then. Do not take action to the contrary."[/color] His tone was low, even, and assertive to the extreme. Ash's wasn't yelling, nor drawing attention. But there was a definite "proceed at your own risk" quality he used to use in his previous life as a Combat Engineer. This was not up for debate, and the direct manner inferred that there would be consequences otherwise. 

	[color=steelblue]"A cup you could have just asked for is a poor reason to break my trust. I'm disappointed, Bryn. And you owe Jim an apology."[/color] 

	He didn't care to wait for a response. Ash left. Discussion could wait until tomorrow morning; he just wasn't having it right then. The thought smacked him, and pretty hard: This was just a symptom of an overall difficulty that was going in in Newnan. Ash had been taking a more permissive, indirect method with this place than he should have been, and for far too long. He had his reasons, but they weren't good enough to warrant his lack of direct action. Too much was allowed to let slide. Well, that was going to change, and first thing in the morning. The Newnan Safe Zone was established as an impromptu community founded by a joint group of military personnel, and he was the present commanding officer. Petty theft and insubordination was not going to be tolerated; the first pickings at a thread that threatened to unravel what they had worked and fought and bled and died for. Bryn wasn't the only one. Hell, there were others that were more deserving of his attention. It had to start somewhere, though, and this incident had been blatant. 

	Ash was halfway back to his Plus One when realizations about incidents around Newnan played in his head. Some even from today. People trying very hard not to follow his orders. Disturbances. Fights. Passing their responsibilities onto others. Leaving posts without proper relief. There were some people he should have disciplined with far less restraint than he had - and others he should have gotten rid of. Stitch in time, as it were. It made him angry, truly angry. Not just at some of the people of his community, but at himself for not doing more to keep this particular ship tight. [color=steelblue]"No fucking more..."[/color] Ash growled absently to himself, letting his native Virginian show. This was his mess, and he was going to start cleaning it up, for the sake of everyone living under his command. He couldn't be a part-time Commander anymore. He was Captain Ashton Jameson [i]Fucking[/i] Holloway, son of moonshiners and mountain-folk, combat veteran and general beater of wholesale ass for his country, his family, and his people. 

	He returned to Thana about the same time that the gentleman from security did; the former with a cold expression on his face and the latter carrying two covered plates and a large flask of something labeled "Peach Spirits". Ash relieved the man of his load, and instructed him to, [color=steelblue]"...see that Bryn gets home safely, and report afterwards."[/color]  

	Obviously, Ash wasn't feeling sociable anymore. [color=steelblue]"Lieutenant Commander, would you mind too much if we called it an evening? I'm afraid my heart isn't in this any longer."[/color] He motioned to Jim, pointed at his own eyes, and made a circular motion above his head. The returned nod indicated that Ash's nonverbal order was understood and accepted. He looked back to Thana, [color=steelblue]"Ma'am, if you're ready?"[/color]