PHD #303: A New Project
A New Project
Summary: Cameron gets called in by Bannik to assist him with a secret project that requires a neurosurgeon's talents.
Date: 26 Dec 2041 AE
Related Logs: Anything regarding Cylon technology
Players:
Bannik Cameron 
Repair Bay - Hangar Deck - Battlestar Cerberus
When engines need to be rebuilt or other heavy but short-term work needs to be done, this is where it happens. Large, red hand-mobile cranes are situated along the wall beside stacks of tool chests. Carts with various computers and electronics are dispersed around the area for quick access. A very conspicuous yellow locker at the rear holds a sizable amount of firefighting gear, as well. Sturdy metal stands are available to hold all sorts of parts from gun systems to the FTL drives of a Raptor. Big enough to accommodate quite a few Vipers and Raptors at once, this area sees extensive use and is usually attended by at least one crew at all hours of the day and night
Post-Holocaust Day: #303

"Doctor Adair, to the Port-Side Hangar Deck. I say again, Doctor Cameron Adair to the Port-Side Hangar Deck." When the surgeon arrives, Specialist Tyr Bannik is hanging out near the area where the Heavy Raider shell is, some items laid out on a workbench in front of him. He has a clipboard in hand. "Doctor Adair?" he calls. "Over here." He waves his hand. The Specialist looks tired; like he's been pulling sixteen-hour shifts lately. Because he is.

To say that he is bemused my the summons would be something of an understatement. Fortunately, though his services are still required on board the Cerberus, the level of urgency has past, with many of the patients and wounded housed in the Starboard Hangar gone now and few new patients entering in. As such, the doctor is both fed and relatively rested for a change when the call comes. So with a perplexed expression upon his face, Cameron follows the signs and directions to the Portside Hangar Deck, poking his head in uncertainly before entering into the space. He stops and blinks at the obviously Cylon ship sitting there, his head cocking as he hears his name and comes about it toward where Bannik is waiting. Clearing his throat and brushing his hair back from his features, Cameron asks uncertainly, "You rang?" Clearly he has no idea why he is here.

Bannik offers his hand. "Specialist Tyr Bannik. I'm one of the deckhands working on the Cylon technology we've recovered in our various encounters. I heard you have security clearance, right?" He takes a couple of stapled papers from his clipboard. It's like he knows the answer, but wants to double-check first.

Blinking in surprise, Cameron's gaze shifts to the ship, and then to Bannik and then the ship again before replying, "Uhhh, yeah, I have security clearance, but, ahhhh, for something this big, shouldn't you be getting that verified, rather than just taking my word for it?" This is definitely far more casual that the good doctor is used to getting, especially with regards to something clearly this delicate and important. "How can I help you? After all I'm a doctor, not a mechanic."

What do you want? He's an eighteen year-old kid. "Yeah. I have it in my file, too, but I just wanted to be sure." Bannik turns the manila folder towards the doctor, showing an octagonal sheet with Cameron's dossier on it. "But — actually, what we need right now /is/ a doctor. I'm a mechanic, but — well. First things first, this is pretty classified. But I bet you can guess that just from the nature of the thing."

His lips quirk into a smirk as Cameron just shakes his head and steps forward, his gaze flickering to the folder in question and then nodding. "Wanted to be sure. Gotcha." Not really the best way to be 'sure', just asking Cameron if he's legit or not, but at least the kid got his folder to begin with. That's gotta count for something. Not exactly sure what, but something. "Yeah, I figure that anything to do with Cylons is pretty classified. I won't tell anyone. Cross my heart and hope to die and all that good stuff," he promises wryly, before his gaze shifts back to the ship curiously. "So, again, what can I do you for?"

Bannik takes a small clip of papers, handing it over to Cameron. "We have two things that we need a biological consult on," explains the tech. "One is going to require a FTL expert on the team." He taps the report portion about the FTL set-up. "And our FTL folks are really busy with repairs. The other thing, though — can be seen right " He makes his way towards the work bench. " here." He holds up a bag containing the organ from the Raider's frontal area.

Hands reach out to take the proffered papers, his gaze running over it, reading, while he listens to Bannik talk. "If you don't mind me asking, and please don't take offense, is this really what we should be working on the moment? I mean, considering that we're dead in the water with the Cylons likely to reappear and kick our asses at any moment they so wish to?" But his head glances up, his feet following Bannik without thinking, eyes narrowing on the strange brain-like looking thing contained in a clear plastic bag. Blinking, Cameron asks bluntly, "Is that what I think it is??"

"I can't think of any better time to try to figure out how our enemies work. And this is technically my rack time, so I'm off the clock. Don't worry about it." Bannik stifles a yawn. "Besides, you tell me, Doc. When else don't you have any patients in the Sickbay?" He takes his clipboard, showing a schematic on it. "This comes from the front of a Raider we captured. It's like — it's its brain or something. Or part of a brain."

"When there is no longer a Sickbay? Believe me, ahhh, Specialist, I'm sure there will be an increase soon, if nothing else than the crew collapsing from exhaustion and over-working…" He studies the bag and mutters, "I hope you guys have that in formaldehyde, or are keeping it in cold storage at least. If not, it's going to degrade rapidly, unless it isn't genuine living tissue…" Frowning slightly, Cameron takes the bag oh so carefully, already wishing he had been onboard so much sooner to deal with this. "Did you take images before you removed it?" he asks, eyeing the strange organ uncertainly. "It would have helped, seeing how it was connected to the ship. It also would have helped if we had gotten this before the Sickbay got blown to Hades and back. I don't know if we were able to rescue enough of the heavy equipment for me to do a proper test on this. Though I suppose in a pinch I can always take a few thin slices and just study it under a microscope…" His gaze lifts to Bannik's as he asks, "So what exactly is it that you want me to do? Tell you what exactly it is? Something else?"

"I got it out of cold storage," explains Bannik with a nod. "We could tell it was organic, at least." He takes some more papers from his folders, handing them over. "People can tell you how OCD I've been about tagging and charting and everything. Here are pictures from the extraction. Here is a diagram showing where it came from the raider. These are copies; you can keep them." He sighs. "Right now, we just want to know what it is."

Nodding slowly, Cameron replies, "Okay, well, that should be reasonably doable. We should make arrangements then, for the diagnostic equipment to be moved into here for that process… or to some other securable area where I can work undisturbed, preferably near to wherever you store such things?" He keeps staring at the strange brain like object, his mind already whirling with curiosity and interest. "Here," he offers, passing it back to Bannik and picking up the information packet that Bannik has supplied him with. "Put it back into cold storage and get me a secure space in which I can work. I'll arrange to have whatever equipment I need moved into that space at the earliest convenience. It would be helpful for me to know who has security clearance on this project as well, so I know whom I can speak to about whatever I might need and to ensure no one who isn't cleared has access to my working area?"

Bannik takes a pen from his clipboard and begins scribbling on it, as if taking notes. "All right," says the Specialist. "I'll get you a list of people who are cleared. As for work area, people used to use the lab in Sickbay. I'll see if we can get some back-up microscopes and other material down here in a small secure area for your work. Get me a list of what you need; I've got a friend in logistics who should be able to help."

"Right. I know there was also a lot of new equipment salvaged - I can check and see if there's anything there that might be of use or anything that we evaced with the patients after the hit." Cameron sighs wistfully and mutters, "Damn," under his breath. "Just a week or so earlier and we would have had everything we could possibly need to do the diagnostic work." Tilting his head to one side, he takes a look at the photos and asks, "Was there any connective tissue, nerves branching out from this organ? Or was it connected and surrounded by metal and wires only?"

Bannik flips to another page on his report. "It's a lot of organic matter up there. I've got some charts and pictures of it. I'm afraid I don't know all that much. But if you dissect it — well." He shrugs. "Maybe we'll find something in there."

Cameron hmmms thoughtfully and murmurs to himself, "Well, beggars can't be choosers…. guess I'll just have to do what I can with what I've got. Next time though, best to get someone on it right away, while it's still connected. Probably could have gotten a lot more information that way, done some electrode stimulus work, maybe gotten some reactions out of the thing…" But what's done is done and it certainly can't be undone now. "I'll get back to you as soon as I know what I need that I can't find. Is there anything else you want me to be working on?" So much for rack time.

Bannik shakes his head. "That's it for now, Doc." He sighs. "And yeah, there's a lot of things we wish we could have done. But people — well — die. Or — you know. It's hard to keep a team together." He shrugs at the Doc. "So — anything you can do, we would really appreciate it. Just let me know."

Reaching out his hand to shake, the doctor offers, "Call me Cameron. Though Doc's okay too. And yeah, times are rough all over and we can only do so much. Better late than never, and hopefully we can still recover some useful data from that and whatever else we still have available to us. I'll do my best," he offers. He's off-duty at the moment, but already his mind is racing over what he'll need and with a wave of his hand, Cameron offers, "Till later then…", turning to go and find out exactly what is available from what he will need.

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