| Double Whammy |
| Summary: | Summoned down to the offices, Constin gets hit with two advancement opportunities. |
| Date: | 24 June 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Marine Offices Deck 6 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| 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. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #118 |
The music in the offices is a little lighter today. It's a day for some paperwork…and a few other things. While wrapping up a few more background checks, Madilyn is waiting for one of a number of marines to stroll into the office, in between patrols, or having heard that she was looking to see them. When Constin enters the office, he finds the CO listening to a rather bright trumpet tune, sipping coffee, and looking expectant.
Constin's salute is rather stiffer than it should be, right arm still wearing a brace under the uniform sleeve. "Major," the big man greets evenly upon entering the office and taking note of the Company CO. "Have a background check of some interest for you, when there's some time."
Madilyn returns the salute with the crispness one would expect from an officer who has not just spent time on an enemy-occupied planet, or jumped from a Raptor and spent 5 minutes in freefall. "Ah, very good. I'll take the file Corporal, but that's not precisely the reason I've aked you and several others to make it a point to come to the offices. In your case, it's a memo I received, from you." After saluting, she returns to her seat, and turns the music way, way down, and motions for him to sit.
Constin nods once at the clarification, not finding the immediate need to go back and grab the file before taking the indicated seat. "Thank you, sir," he grunts, leaving the initiative of conversation in the Major's hands.
"Getting right to business…I see in your memo that you are interested in applying to Officer Candidate School. Tell me a little about that? Why not, following the events on Leonis? Or was this something you had been considering prior? What is motivating you to now pursue an officer's commission?" As she talks, Madilyn folds her hands up on the desk, smiling pleasantly, not writing a thing. Just a semi-casual Q & A.
Constin nods once. "Been kicking the notion around for about the past month, sir." A drawn breath and he goes on. "Of the mind that ah can do an officer's work, and got the itch to do every damned thing ah can for the Corp. If you think that's being an En-Cee-Oh from here on, then that's what ah'll do. Ah'm good at mah job," he states simply. "Thinking ah want to shoot higher. As for why now and not before Leonis," he shrugs briefly, affecting a tight, short-lived grin. "Wanted to make it back first, sir."
She nods and continues to smile a little bit, listening to the reasons. "Those all sound reasonable enough, in fact. It's hard to deny when that itch strikes. It's how I wound up enrolling in the Fleet Academy rather than going to Caprica University. It would've been much, much easier to gain enrollment, seeing as how my father was a professor there. Back in the day of course, too many years ago for me to reveal." Don't ask her how old she is, in other words. "And you're familiar with both the admissions requirements and the coursework requirements of OCS, modified though it may be given our present situation?"
"Ah know candidates won't get considered after they turn thirty-one. Which.." he eyes the chronometer, "Ah'm a full four days shy of." Constin gives a short "Hrm," of amusement before getting back to business. "Ah've been touching up on overland nav, close order drill.. history, an alla that. Know there's more to Oh-Cee-Ess, but what the Ship's bookhouse carries, ah've looked up. Can have the five letters of recommendation for you, if ya like, sir. What our 'present situation' modifies things to, ah can't say."
"By that I mean the courses won't be taught be instructors who do little more than understand the specifics of what they teach. The program will have to be modified to both allow for actual, working officers without such specialties to teach the courses, and to take account of the greatly limited educational resources we possess without access to full Colonial libraries and databanks. The sum total of human knowledge in military, history, the sciences, and other things that may be required for officer candidate school is most certainly not stored locally." She pauses. "You understand that while in that program, we cannot excuse you from your present duties as a non-commissioned officer, right Corporal? We will modify your schedule as needed to allow for courses, assuming admission, but you will still be expected to carry out your duties."
"You kidding, sir?" Constin returns to her last clarification. "Ah've got too much work on my plate to drop it all, even if ah wanted to- which, for the record, ah *don't*. Figured Oh-Cee-Ess would be mah down-time for awhile." The difficulties of actually organizing a training course for marine officers on a ship isolated from the sum total of civilization's resources is met with a, "Huh. Whatever you put in front of me, ah'll deal with, Major."
"Good. That's good. I'd expect that attitude exactly from someone who really wanted it. And you're aware that the duration of Oh-Cee-Ess here, aboard Cerberus may be required to be longer than the fourteen weeks listed in Colonial Fleet guides, to account for courses being administered during down-time only?"
Constin nods once, leaning back in the chair. "It'll take as long as it needs," the big marine mutters simply, before drawing a breath to ask levelly, narrow eyes on his SO. "What you need from me to get this started then, sir?"
"Well, we'll need all the same things that any other enlistedman is required to submit for admission into Oh-Cee-Ess: the official, signed application form, with all written statements, and the required letters of recommendation, signed and sealed. Notorized would be acceptable in this case. Following that, an admission decision will be made amongst the command staff, and you and any other candidates will be notified."
Constin nods twice throughout Madilyn's answer. "Understood, sir," the corporal returns, filing away the information. "Was that all on the subject?" he wonders evenly, before going on any further.
"Yes, that's all I have to ask of you on the Oh-Cee-Ess subject. However, there was one more matter I wanted to address. In light of the events of the past two months, regarding the ongoing investigations and arrest of traitorous saboteurs - one in particular - and the voluntary participation in an extremely risky HALO jump mission to assist in the recue of our stranded crew, I have decided to promote you to the rank of sergeant."
As she speaks, Madilyn opens a drawer on the side of the desk, and withdraws a new set of rank insignia, patches and pins, together with the appropriate paperwork (of course). They're laid forth on the desk, for Constin to take, while she stands, extending a hand to be shaken in congratulations. "Even though you may only hold this rank for fourteen weeks, it's obvious to me that in your time and service spent on this battlestar you have earned this promotion."
Constin's first reaction is a blink and narrowing of his eyes on the patches and pins, which tick up to meet Madilyn's own an instant later. "Thank you, sir," he voices evenly at first, accepting the offered hand with a firm grip and the prompt question, "Am ah being transferred out of Able Three-One, then?"
"There are still other personnel decisions to be made. Likely, you will be made squad lead of Dog One. Rather than have two sergeants in a police squad, it seems to me that, with your desire to enter OCS, assuming squad lead of our new recruits is a way for you to make an immediate impact and prepare yourself for the rigors and responsibility of command. However, until all personnel decisions are made and I discover how many new recruits we officially have, nothing's permanent." Her shake is as firm as she can make it, and now she's legit smiling.
Constin cracks a tight grin of his own in return. "Couldn't ask for better, sir. Business as usual until ah hear otherwise." He draws a fresh breath to add, "Which brings up that matter ah'd mentioned earlier. Interviewed a fella out of the Leonis crowd. Marine Corporal Ryker Hawkins, last posted to the Battlestar Valkyrie. Former civilian police, trained as an Em-Pee on enlistment. Everything he's said checks out so far- now ah don't fully trust anybody we picked off the World, but he's about as solid as can be proven right now." A fresh breath. "Ah'll drop off the file, if you like, but the present recommendation is to put him to work."
"Well Sergeant, I'll take a look at the file and make my official recommendation. The more cleared bodies we have willing to work, the better off we'll be in the long run. I'll note your recommendation as I read the file, of course. Until then, Sergeant, I await your finished Oh-Cee-Es application." Handshake concluded, Madilyn lifts her hand into a tight salute. "Dismissed Sergeant…and congratulations.
Constin rises to his feet and repeats his stiff salute. "Major," the big man voices in return, turning crisply on one heel and walking with a gait that barely shows any remnant of the former limp. Extra stripe equals extra work, and the newly minted sergeant has a big plate to work through.