| A Last-Ditch Defensive Weapon |
| Summary: | Bannik briefs Cidra on the capabilities and limitations of the linked Gun. |
| Date: | 10 Apr 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Not All It's Cracked Up to Be. |
| Players: |
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| CAG’s Office – Deck 10 – Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Though it's not much bigger than the average ship supply closet, the office of the commander of Cerberus' air group has as much luxury as one can hope for aboard a battlestar: privacy. It is dominated by a blocky gray metal desk straight out of standard Navy supply with an equally standard-issue rolling chair behind it. A few other chairs are shoved against one wall, for those who drop by for whatever business they have with the CAG. The surface of the desk is covered by a computer and stacks of files and octagonal papers covering whatever bit of aerial bureaucracy she's mussing with that day. A few heavy books on air mechanics - mostly devoted to Raptors - occupy the shelves. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #408 |
Cidra is in her office, sitting at her desk with the hatch slightly ajar, a pinched expression on her face. She's smoking on a cigarette, with feeling, as she thumbs through some octagonal papers in her pile.
Rap-tapa-tap-tap-tap-tap. That would be the light rat-a-tat-tat of the junior enlisted coming to visit the CAG. Given the number of briefings that Bannik has given the Major at this point, he should be used to this particular walk. But the butterflies never quite go away. "Major? It's Specialist Bannik."
"Mister Bannik." Cidra sounds tired, but not displeased to see him. She puts her cigarette down, but not out. "Do you smoke? Have I asked you before?" The woman seems in an abstracted mood today, albeit still composed and inscrutable *enough* not to close her hatch. "In any case. Come in, please."
Bannik shakes his head. "No, sir. I don't smoke. I just take my ration of cigarettes because I can trade them for favors from other people who do smoke." Well, have to admire the honesty. He makes his way into the office and takes a seat. He holds a clipboard in his hands with sheaves of octagonal paper on it. This generally means a briefing. "As you know, sir, Command asked an inter-departmental team to do up a model on how the Gun would affect the Fleet if it were fired by all four ships."
Cidra nods to that. "It is of most pressing interest to me, obviously, since my planes shall be on the frontline of any use of the weapon in the future. My Raptors, in particular. The amount of time it takes to 'warm up' puts a good deal of pressure on our forces to defend the Fleet while it charges."
Bannik flips to the top sheet of his report. "The bottom line, sir, is that the linked Gun isn't an offensive weapon. It's a defensive weapon. While the linked Gun will disable any Cylon forces in the area for an indefinate period of time, it will also take out, for a half a day, at least our FTLs, maybe other systems. Worst case scenario is that our FTL, offensive, and defensive systems will go out." He glances up from his sheet. "So it's what we use when our backs are against the wall and we don't have any other choice."
A slim frown comes to Cidra's face at all that. It was even less rosy than she was expecting, apparently. "It strikes me that in most cases we would be almost better off jumping rather than committing to an entanglement that would leave us crippled like that. If a united Cylon force came against us as we sat idle - and all we have seen of the strength of their forces in the inner colonies suggests they could if they knew our position and truly committed to destroying us - we would have no escape."
"Uh. Well. I'm not the TACCO, sir, but." Bannik frowns and considers this. "Of course, Elpis is always the last to jump and has been really straining its engines. Maybe jumping is our best bet, but if Elpis can't get a jump off —" His voice trails. "Well, then the linked Gun might be those civilians' last and only hope."
"Might at that, Specialist. It does sound as if it would put us all in a precarious position, however, were we to come to a point where we had to use it." Cidra sighs heavily. "I should speak with Lieutenant Colonel Baer of the Areion. About this and many other matters. When we were told of this weapon these drawbacks were not precisely emphasized."
"Well. That's why Areion wasn't too big on overselling the weapon. It was a lot of folks on Cerberus who were really excited about the project." Bannik takes some sheets off of the clipboard and hands them over. "Here are our findings. It's not good news, sir, but — it's not like the old Gun won't work anymore."
Cidra nods to Bannik, taking the full report. "I thank you very much, Specialist. I shall have to meet with Tactical and Engineering soon enough. What we are capable of is settled. Where we go from here is the question." And one she does not have an answer to, from the perturbed way she works her cig.
"Yes, sir. The TACCO has asked us to run some more models. See if we can fire less than all four ships, but more than Areion, that sort of thing. But that's —" Bannik gestures to the papers she now holds. "That's where we are right now. Do you have any questions for me, though, sir?"
Cidra shakes her head. "Not at this juncture. This is not precisely encouraging, but so long as we do not attempt to use this in an offensive manner, I do suppose we are stronger with it than without. All options available to us and all. Fine work as always, Specialist. It is ever a pleasure to see you by here." A pause. "Dismissed."