Midway into Rog’s visit:

Rog:  What the hell do you mean no search and rescue mission?

John: Not my call to make. I’ve taken the request as high as I can.

Rog:  Bullshiott!

John: What?

Rog:  Your conscience. Have you taken it to your conscience? Tell me that John?

John: You think I don’t care about those Vollmond pilots? The one’s I sent into harm’s way? To protect Bravo. Do you know—

Rog:  I know what I see and what I see is you sitting on your arse offering bullshiott excuses. Gawd damn John, look at yourself.

John: Look, I’m not going to pretend I could ever care for your crew as much as you do—

Rog:  [banging fists on John’s desk] That’s not the frailing point! I don’t give a rat’s arse for thoughts. You want thoughts, go talk to Yul, she’s full of ‘em.

John: What do you want from me Rog?

Rog:  I want a ship, a vessel, one with parsec capability.

John: And what would you do with such a vessel? You can’t fly it, can’t read the instrumentation. Hell, you wouldn’t even know where to go.

Rog:  Then come with me.

John: I can’t.

Rog:  Can’t or won’t?

[John stood up, put his hands on his desk, leaned over and stared at Rog, oblivious to the blinking red light on his desk.]

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Rog