PHD #059: Best Bullshit Guess
Best Bullshit Guess
Summary: Damon checks in with the Marine chain of command about the nukes.
Date: 26 Apr 2041 AE
Related Logs: Drop the Bomb
Damon Lunair Madilyn 
Marine Offices - Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #59
This offices consists of desks for those under the CO, along with his desk toward the back of the room. The S1 and S2 have desks here and the place is neat as a pin, with everything in its place. At the front of the room, a Marine sits at a desk to meet people as they come in through the hatch.
Condition Level: 3 - All Clear

Damon looks completely out of place and nervous as he roams about the Marine deck, so obviously lost. After walking into the berthings by accident and extracting himself not long after, he peeks down toward the offices and slowly makes his way down the corridor. Finally. He knocks on Madilyn's door and offers a salute. Under his left arm is a small folder with CLASSIFIED in huge letters across it.

Lunair is here. She's on coffee duty and is quietly reloading the maker. There we go. Now Marines can be re-caffienated with ease. She smiles and straightens up. She pauses, noticing poor lost Damon. A few owlish blinks.

The offices are…well, more singular than their name would imply. It's a rather large, partitioned room, with the CO's desk allllll the way at the back. That means parading, out-of-element, past alllll those Marines, including the S1 and S2 before even getting to the CO. "Hello Petty Officer," Madilyn says, noting Damon's arrival with a short look away from the paperwork spread before her. "Are these the plans CIC wants discussed then?" she asks, eyeing the folder in his hands.

"This, uh, this'd be all the information I could gather so far on the Bravo-Eight-One Tactical Nuclear Weapon," Damon says. Walking all this way through the foreign grounds has definitely made him feel out-of-place. He lays the folder on Madilyn's desk. Inside is one sheet on the specifications and capabilities of the nuke - nothing in-depth, and nothing to do with its operation - one sheet quoting the portion of the relevant AAR of their recovery from Parnassus Anchorage, and one sheet with the information on their current storage location and status. "The XO wanted me to check in with the Marines and ensure that they were being safeguarded by a fireteam at each locker."

Coffee coffee. Lunair is the roving grunt it seems, as far as officers go. She lifts her eyebrows, if she hears. But she says nothing, keeping out of the way and tending to a few things. For some reason, it's hard to disappoint Madilyn. She really has no idea why.

Across the desk, Madilyn motions for Damon to have a seat. "Feel free to get yourself a mug of coffee, if you like. Lieutenant Lunair seems to enjoy making it. I think she brews it a little more like what you deckies drink than the stuff I make so…you're in luck." The folder on the desk is opened, and she starts to leaf through, slowly. "And yes Petty Officer…" She doesn't know Damon's name off the top of her head, however, and looks up to find his name tag. "…Damon. Fireteams have been reassigned to those storage lockers in particular. Access is limited to a list of brass that I can count on one hand, and any help they would bring with them. If you have a moment, however, I'd like to discuss some of these stats you've listed here."

Damon gives a smile to Lunair - it takes him a second to realize why she's familiar, but once he does, the smile becomes warmer. "That's, uh, I'm more of a tea person, thank you, sir," Damon says, holding up a hand to decline. He talks with a generous helping of commas when he's nervous. He does take a seat, though. "That's what the XO said - that they're already under guard. But I suppose he wanted me to meet with you face to face anyway, which is a good idea, all things considered. I can't say I'm too well-versed in these little things, but I'll try and answer to the best of my ability."

A Pause. Then a soft giggle. Lunair turns red. Has she been making it wrong this whole time? Sadface. "Well, I can alternate and try a more civilized way. But last time someone got on my case." A little pout. Oh well. She resumes looking professional and goes quiet. She's here if they have need of anything though. She smiles at Damon in turn. She's apparently fairly fond of the deck crew perhaps.

"No, Lieutenant, it's a fact that I do tend to take my coffee slightly less like tar than most of the crew enjoys. Only occasionally do I have the dubious chore of 'ruining' an entire pot for the rest of you all." Madilyn smirks a little then, and pages back and forth from one sheet with technical drawings to another with the numerical specs. "Without detonating this, how did you come by these numbers, Petty Officer? Best guess? Functional relationships?"

Damon smirks a bit when Madilyn talks about Deck coffee, but says nothing on the matter. After all, he doesn't actually drink any of the stuff. "Well, sir, I'll be honest with you - it's my best bullshit guess," he admits. "I took measurements of the casing, compared it against what documentation we had available in the library, which, y'know, wasn't a whole lot, and… estimated." He rubs the back of his neck. "Given everything about Parnassus Anchorage and all the frakked-up shit that seemed to be happening there, I wouldn't be surprised if my estimates are way off, though. I have no idea what's inside."

"Do, uh, do either of you sirs have experience with weaponry like this? I mean, I know they exist, but I've never really… handled them."

"It's not ruining, it's just different." She smiles at Madilyn. hard not to call her 'mom' admittedly. Mom who could kick her ass but- Lunair prefers not to think about that. She lifts her eyebrows. "Me? Not directly other than radiation tends to do bad things to you," Lunair shrugs. She goes quiet though, not saying or daring to intrude.

"No, I'm afraid I lack experience in this particular subject area myself. Assault engineering AIT for me, rather than demo. Not to mention, we mostly let fleet handle the firing and BOOM parts of the nukes," Madilyn says, mimicking a small explosion with her hands. There's a moment of silence where she runs one hand back through her hand, and pulls one corner of her mouth up to think a little. "I wonder…" she starts, before turning to her terminal. "When I was just starting my service, I did earn a degree in something that may be applicable. With practiced fingers, she clacks on the keys to bring up lines of…something. "Ah yes, there we go. I think we might be able to maybe these numbers a little better than your best bullshit guess, Petty Officer. Hell, we might even be able to move into educated guess territory. I'm sure CIC would much rather see that, huh?"

Damon nods to both of them. "I'd call mine a semi-educated guess at best, sir," he says, indicating the sheet. "For its power and blast radius, I mean. Since I couldn't take it apart or look inside, I had to guess at its payload judging by the size of the casing and an estimation of the trigger mechanism." Still, he looks intrigued as she clacks away on her keyboard. "And no, I'd rather not be anywhere nearby if any of them are going off," he says to Lunair. "I doubt we'd have to worry about radiation if one of those went off on the ship."

"I doubt that as well," Lunair simply replies quietly. She shrugs. Such things were generally left alone. She just smiles politely and keeps quiet. None of her business. "Just let me know if either of you need anything."

"Years ago, when I was still in school, I had a bit of skill at modeling and simulation. Sure, it's not configured for nukes, but it might be possible to adapt such simulation methods to your purposes. I'm not certain if the complexity of nuclear chemistry permits such, but the same method may be applied…just plug the relevant equations in, the other parameters…hmmm…I'd say that there's a 50/50 chance that it'd work." Madilyn looks back to Damon with a little smile. "That may just be to indulge my curiosity, rather than for CIC though. If what you've given me passed muster upstairs, I'm going to go with that. And long story short, guards are posted, and whatever the frak those things are, only authorized brass are getting close to them."

"It's, uh, - I'd have to look up those equations, sir, unless you've got 'em handy," Damon says with a lopsided grin. "I'm more of a wrench monkey than a nuclear physicist, most days, if you know how I mean." He glances back over to Lunair. "And as the El-Tee can probably attest, I tend to hit things with wrenches just about as much as I actually fix things." Referring back to the Eidolon incident, of course. "Oh - and I'm sure they already know, but just so the sentries are fully aware, the nukes don't get touched or moved without authorization from both the Admiral and the XO, is what I was told, sir."

Lunair just smiles faintly at that. She says nothing for now, perhaps wisely trying to learn something here. She's not entirely a flake it seems.

"I…don't, as hard as that is to believe. I'm just exploring our options here, since, ostensibly, I did get the position because I can think a little bit." Yes, that's a good deck monkey, let the nice marine CO do the thinking. "The grunts I have on duty are good soldiers - I think they're smart enough to figure things like that out on their own. However, I'll personally make certain that they're told again about the access and transportation restrictions."

Looking up from Damon a moment, she holds up a hand and waves the S1 over. "I need to see these people, in short order. Before the end of this shift. If they're on duty, have them wait until the end of their shift. If they're asleep, muster them for a short meeting." While she talks, she writes the names of the sentries in the rotation on a sheet of paper, before handing off.

Lunair is listen. She just smiles at the two politely and tends to things here and there. She is no S1 though and gives the officer a politely deferring glance. She's kind of happy for her lowly lot sometimes. "Hmm…"

"Well, sir, seems like you've got everything under control as expected," Damon says, rising from his seat. "And if you need anything, just give a shout. I've got some other people I have to check in with before I get back into the coveralls, so, by your leave…" He straightens up and gives another salute. But doesn't leave until Madilyn gives him the dismissal.

"You're excused, Petty Officer. I'll make sure the sentries get word. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. And be safe on deck, huh? I know it gets treacherous down there." Without getting entirely up out of her seat, Madilyn returns the salute to Damon, officially letting him get back to work. The S1 is already long gone on their task to get the message out there. Aside from that, there's still quite a number of items in the TODO tray on the desk, and so back to those Madilyn goes.

"Be well," Lunair waves. She's sympathetic to Damon's lot on deck too. She's quietly buzzing here and there, tending to tasks.

"Thanks, sir," Damon says to Madilyn. "And you too." Another smile given to Lunair, he turns and braves Marine Country yet again.

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