| Abnormal circumstances |
| Summary: | Log Summary |
| Date: | 15 Apr 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Not Out of the Woods - Air Wing, continued in House of Cards |
| Players: |
  |
| Deck 6 - Marine Country |
|---|
| From Officer's Brig to MaA's Office |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #413 |
The detainment had been enforced promptly after Cora's return to the Cerberus. It was enacted at the Captain's office, with every effort made to prevent onlookers. A path was cleared to Deck Six, and the Officer's brig, again, without onlookers. The only information Cora had been given was that she was "Detained for questioning in regards to breach of security protocols." The proper chapter and verse of Uniform Code of Military Justice was cited, and the appropriate authority was invoked.
However, before any questioning could take place, a clearly displeased Master-at-Arms opened the cell, informing the Captain that the office of the Judge Advocate General not only refused to press the charges, but ordered her immediate release. She was free to go mere minutes after being detained. Any questions answered would have to be 'purely at the Captain's discretion'.
Cora cooperated with the detainment, though she appeared exasperated at having to do so, and refused to say a word except to say that she wished counsel from JAG to be consulted immediately. Upon her release she exits the cell, having the good grace at least not to appear smug. "Well, Gunnery Sergeant," she addresses Constin, still just a little bit red from her time under The Gun, "I have a great deal of work that requires my attention, and I should think there are better things for you to do, but… my curiosity gets the better of me. So let's give these questions of yours a try, shall we?"
"Core breaches of Cee-Eye-Cee security measures are worthy of my time, sir, even if Jag disagrees," Constin returns, a bit shortly. While Cora may be justifiably annoyed, Constin is damn near seething behind his stern frown as his authority is overridden. "Step into my office then? Sir."
Cora lifts a brow. "Core breaches of CIC security measures? Those sound worth my time as well," she replies. "Very well, sergeant, you have my full attention." She even frowns faintly, and steps into his office, helping herself to a chair. Once comfortable, she gestures, "Go ahead."
"Fleet action of fourteen November, over Aerilon," Constin begins once the hatch is closed, walking around behind his desk, and settling his bulk into his own chair, leaning forward. "After the action, Engineering found a back door override of security measures taking place immediately prior to the arrival of hostile forces. The codes used to enact this override were yours. The station at which this took place was yours. Security cameras verify you at that station. I want to know what you did and why you bypassed Cee-Eye-Cee security to do it."
"Before the evacuation from Aerilon?" Cora repeats, and then takes a moment, considering. "It was definitely me?" she checks, "On the security? What would I… oh." She frowns, and pauses, and then asks, "This was the override that forced resumed monitoring of non-military, non-civilian frequencies, correct?"
Constin nods once to the initial query. "Yes, sir. It was," the big man drawls flatly, drawing a breath in through flared nostrils. He turns in the chair, to open one of the several filing cabinets which line the back wall of his officer, pulling out printed paper reports- why this isn't just on the computer is anyone's guess- to verify the relevant details. "Might be, I'll double check." He motions for Cora to continue, while he locates the correct file.
"I'm not sure you have the clearance level to hear about this, sergeant," Cora replies, leaning one elbow on the table and watching him dig for a file. She watches him, brows furrowed faintly, and then decides, "But since Areion's Gun has cleared you of being a skinjob, I'll make an exception, though this information isn't to leave this room. With the help of another officer, I discovered that there was a hole in our security. Specifically, CIC's signal monitoring was not active on any frequency bands not known to be used by military or civilians. We located the piece of code that controlled this monitoring, and found that it had been… turned off, would be the non-technical way to put it," she gestures vaguely. "I turned it back on. I did so anonymously so that the Cylon agent who, I assume, turned it off to begin with, would not realize that we were now monitoring their communications and we would be able to catch their next transmission." She smiles faintly, wryly, "Or I thought I had done it anonymously; it seems I was wrong."
Constin sniffs flatly once at the preamble. "For the record? I consider Areion's verification about as valid as a service jacket writ out in crayon, sir. But if that business you went through make you trust me more, so be it." That scowling statement delivered. "Did you log this action with anybody, Captain?" he queries a moment later.
"Having reviewed the technical data and results of prior testing, as well as our own research into The Gun's effects on Cylon systems, and the data acquired from MolGen, sergeant, I would give a little more credence to its effects," Cora replies dryly, "Just because you don't like them or their methods doesn't mean their science doesn't work. It's possibly the only honest thing over there." His scowl doesn't seem to bother her, and she leans comfortably on one arm, and shakes her head at the question. "For security reasons, I did not. The other officer involved was informed that I would deal with the matter myself, otherwise, no one else is, to my knowledge, aware."
Constin snorts flatly. "Their methods are entirely apart from the point, sir. Until folk I can rely on give a look-over and analysis of what they've got- access which they have refused, by the by- I only know what I've seen, and that's the Gun hitting a basestar and wiping out everything EXCEPT the skinjobs. Cylon awareness of MolGen operations has been alleged prior, why should this Gun be any different?" An even stare. "On TOP of that, we have their methods, which I won't waste your time or my breath getting into." Back to the matter at hand. "So you did not log, or document in advance of the action that you would undertake this bypass of security protocols. Six hours after this action was undertaken, the first contact with Cylon forces in eighty-one days occurs." A shake of his head. "You got any idea why that might be?"
"I'm not sure 'folk you can rely on' is actually a qualification either in law or military procedure, sergeant," Cora replies dryly, "But luckily, your belief in its efficacy does not actually matter. So, moving on, no, I did not log or document in advance or afterwards the action I took with regard to the security protocols. The point was to ensure that the only people who knew that it had been turned back on were those I was absolutely positive were not skinjobs, which is to say, only myself. If you check the logs, however, you ought to be able to see that the monitoring code was turned off and then I turned it back on." As for the Cylons, she shrugs, "Maybe the skinjob in question noticed after all and called them in through some other means. Maybe they found us because we had been sitting in the same place for eighty one days. Maybe a three was just getting bored and decided to come laugh while we scrambled. I don't know, sergeant."
"Well, sir. Under any kind of normal circumstances, bypassing security protocols purely on your own initiative, without clearance or verification from anybody else, immediately prior to a hostile action would be more than enough to warrant detainment and a full inquiry. Especially since your trust of yourself ain't any kind of legal qualification /I/ can recognize," Constin volleys back, pointedly. "Guess that must be 'above my clearance' too, because unless there's anything else you choose to add, Jag has ordered you can go."
"I have complete clearance to take any measures I believe likely to assist in the identification and capture of Cylon agents within this fleet at my own discretion, sergeant," Cora informs Constin, "You can check that with Major Tillman and Colonel Pewter if you like. That, I believe, is a legal qualification. The fact that a hostile action occurred after this particular instance is circumstantial at best. Should we track down everything you did before each previous engagement? I bet we could find a pattern if we felt like it. I bet we could in nearly anyone's behavior, if we wanted to take the time. Figure out who was actually transmitting over those frequencies that weren't being monitored, though, and there's your skinjob. Speaking of which," she carries on as she rises, "Last night I had a photo sent over a man, a priest named Brother Solon. Your people are to be checking it against personnel records to see if we find any matches, and showing it around, see if anyone recognizes him, especially on Elpis. Are there any updates on the progress of that?"
"You can try and turn this around on me all you want, sir. Fact is if I didn't bring in you in on this, I wouldn't be doing my job. And no matter what you, Jag, or Kepner think about it, I'ma do my frakking job. Captain." Constin's typical scowling composure lifts just a bit, showing a hint of anger, briefly. Woodenly, he responds to the latter, "No responses as of yet, sir."
"I'm not accusing you, sergeant," Cora shakes her head, "I'm just pointing out that what you've got isn't really much of anything when you think about it. But you're doing your job," she shrugs, "And I'm not faulting you for it. I'm here helping you do your job, aren't I? Get someone digging again on who transmitted over those frequencies and what they sent, that's the answer here. I hit a dead end on it, and I've got enough other things on my plate I haven't gotten back to it. But that's the key to this, if you ask me. Which you didn't," she smiles. At the last, she nods, "I see. Let me know if there are. If there's nothing else, sergeant?"
"There is nothing else, Captain," Constin returns plainly. As Cora is not a prisoner, when she rises, the big marine follows suit. When she says 'If there is nothing else', the sergeant stiffly raises his right arm and makes the appropriate salute.
Cora nods to the salute and replies, "Very well, sergeant. As you were," and exits.