As Ensign Rodgers called him out on his qualifications, Ilari's head turned slowly.
Like a Tank tracking a target.
His eyes were neither wide nor narrow. The expression was stuck somewhere between anger and one who has taken offense.
He glanced at the rank on his collar and he racked his brain to remember what it was equivalent to. Unlike the other branches the Navy was the somewhat oddball when it came to ranks. Everyone else was pretty similar to each other. He opened his mouth to say something but the sudden stance change from Doc Ambri And then Doc Ambri in his peripheral made him stop. The Staff Sergeant was surprised when she opted not to say anything, but then the Tech Sergeant did.
His mind finally found the information on the Navy in the dusty old cellar in his brain. It was wedged under a shelf to keep it balanced and stable, and thus had collected dust over the years.
Vasili mentally noted the ranks of everyone in the room. And a feeling of dread moved into his gut as he realized he was the most junior in the room.
But this...his precious qualifications. Ones where he spent almost every waking hour learning and qualifying for. Sleeping only on the trips between bases. Four months of course after course after course. Eating MREs while at the range field stripping weapons, then putting them back together again, while the rest got to go to the DFAC, or even better, off-base to eat. If there was nothing going on at night, Vasili would stay up and go over his notes so he could pass his written tests. Trying to qualify the first time, therefore becoming Mission Ready as fast as possible.
He politely and respectfully gave his most immediate Senior his attention. Normally this was the part where he would begin to quietly flirt with the Technical Sergeant. It was very rare to find a woman with qualifications such as hers in this day and age. The fact that she was SpecOps scared him a little but that was part of the fun.
When she was done, his attention turned back on the Sailor.
And now the First Lieutenant was on him.
Are you serious? He thought to himself.
When Potpourri or Potpie or whatever his name was, was done with his explanation of why Staff Sergeant Vasili Ilari was "out of uniform", Vasili took a deep breath to calm himself down before he stood up and said anything else.
"Begging your pardon, sirs..." He glanced at the Naval man. "I HAVE qualified all of said weapons. I am NOT showing off. And as proof these are the documents printed by General Hammond himself to be signed by each Instructor and Commanding Officer of said Instructor as I finished the requirements of each course." Vasili reached into his binder, specifically the protective plastic pocket and carefully withdrew the stack of signed documents passing them to the Ensign. "Passing those I had to leave immediately otherwise I wouldn't have made it to this meeting. As I am NOT out of Uniform regulation wise, for a meeting such as this I should have freshened up a bit, but I landed at Peterson approximately 30 minutes ago and the AC-130 I flew in on didn't have Shower accommodations. Neither did the Huey that transported me here from Peterson."