PHD #116: El Presidenta
El Presidenta
Summary: Tillman and Sawyer finally have a chance to catch up after Operation: Cobra Talon
Date: 23 June 2041 AE
Related Logs: None.
Sawyer Tillman 
Deck 3 - News Room
This room isn't huge by any means, but it does have all the updated equipment and a small news staff that runs the area.
Post-Holocaust Day: #116

Sawyer pretty much has the lay of the land this late in the evening, when everyone one else has given up work for the day as there are no longer silly things like schedules to keep or networks and editors to report back to. With the room to herself, there's music blaring from her computer and the reporter herself is using a pair of pencils as drumsticks as she bangs out a rhythm on the keyboard instead of words.

Tillman raps his knuckles on the hatchway as he steps inside. "Back from vacation and she can't bring herself to do anymore work. Geez. What a bum." The Major casts her a big grin on the approach to her desk. "How're you doin, Sawyer?"

Sawyer's chair squeaks as she swivels, startled, towards the hatchway. She slaps on a practiced smile, and flings one of her 'drumsticks' in the XO's direction with a smooth flick of her wrist. "Clive. Just the man I was hoping to avoid." She says with a bit of sardonic humor tainting her voice.

Tillman watches the pencil bounce to the desk he's passing and picks it up. He waves it gently at her. "You dropped your drumstick." A wink. "Any particular reason to avoid the Executive Officer? Afraid you're going to get asked to go on another forty-eight hour mission?" He settles his rear onto a desk and leans a bit forward with his arm resting on his knee.

"Frak you and the Raptor you flew in on." Sawyer says flatly, hard to temper her words when she still has the laceration on her forehead and beneath the pretty blouse is the bulge of a pressure bandage wound tight around her ribcage. "And I say that with love." There. Lame attempt, but at least she made one. "I don't have an answer to your riddle yet, thus, I've been avoiding your asking after it. I can't even collect my thoughts enough to make any progress. It was….brutal down there, Clive."

"Its all in love, I'm sure." The man tosses the pencil back onto her desk with a smirk and looks back to her as she finishes. "So I hear." That humor slowly slides out of his tone. "Don't sweat it, though, Sawyer. Really. I'm more relieved that you made it home. How'd you fare personally?"

Sawyer has kicked off her shoes at some point in the evening, and she uses a bare toe to wedge open the lower draw of her desk. She leans over, tugging out a bottle of booze. Technically, this isn't a duty area as Sawyer's not in the military, right? "We are so terribly sheltered aboard this ship. Sure, there's a war, and occasionally we deal with the ugly truth of it, but down there? You breath it, you can't sleep because you feel it in every fiber. It's a nightmare of frayed nerves and crumbling psyches. If at least half the crew that went down, who managed to come back up, isn't borderline insane or suffering from some Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? I'll eat that damn pencil." Sawyer drags a hand down her face before uncorking the bottle, "Me though? I'm fine. Shot some Centurions, hacked some computers, ate a cupcake and came home."

Tillman doesn't give the bottle a second glance. The guy probably wouldn't say anything even if it were prohibited in the area. "Yeah, don't I know it. During my days with the Marines I saw some real nasty places. Just awful. Comparable to your time on Leonis? Uhm, I would say no. But I can understand what you're saying. Its a damned accurate way to describe it all. Luckily people are made of stern stuff." He looks her over a moment before meeting her eyes once more. "Hacked some computers, eh? Find out anything interesting? Also.. We pulled a Lieutenant off the surface. Cora Nikephoros. Get a chance to meet her?"

Sawyer looks into a coffee cup on her desk, blows a huff of air into its depths, then deems it worth to receive a splash of alcohol, which she applies liberally. "The thumbdrive with everything I was able to download will be turned over to Military Police once I have a chance to get up there. Have them analyze it to your heart's content." Of course, she might be deliberately avoiding doing just that, as much so as she's been hiding out from damn near everyone since returning to the ship. "Cora, yeah. we were on edge about Cylons being able to impersonate or brainwash humans, so I took it upon myself to give her a little friendly interview after we picked her up. She seemed to have suitable and emotional answers to everything ranging from her job as an intelligence officer to her family life. Whether or not the means anything…" Sawyer shrugs.

"You brought it back? Outstanding work!" Tillman seems a little surprised - mostly at himself for being surprised. "You're one hell of a person, Sawyer. Get it on up to the MP's, though. I'll have Oberlin and a few others go over it. Once its decrypted or figured out, I'll let you take a look at it." Apparently the Major doesn't seem to have backed-down from his offer of access to what is going on. "You interviewed her, eh? Yeah, that means a lot actually. But she seems pretty reasonable and normal according to you. That's exactly what I was looking to hear. Any other observations about her or what happened down there in regards to these people or human Cylon things?"

Sawyer shadows a smile to Tillman that disappears behind the rim of her coffee mug as she takes a swig of whatever that amber liquid was. It has her eyes crinkling in a wince and her mouth opening in a silent plea for the air to assuage whatever burn is now crawling down her throat. With a slightly more raw voice, she continues. "Lieutenant Haeleah should have a copy of what we pulled off MolGen's computer if her thumbdrive survived. Mine is the only one with the information I pulled off the Tower computer during the raid." Sawyer blots her lips with the back of her hand. "As for Cora, I found nothing in her story about the months she spent post Holocaust on the surface that I wouldn't have done myself. She survived, which is admirable. As for the…humanoids…they seem to refer to a singular God. Dislike their human 'shells'. And vary enough in their opinions that they argue amongst themselves. They aren't 'programmed'. Not how I imagined they would be." There's a pause. "I want to talk to Michael. You'll see to it that happens, won't you, Clive?"

"Regardless, get it to them when you can. Sooner is better. I'll see that the Lieutenant gets her information processed in the meantime." Tillman adjusts his seat on the desk. "Alright, I'll take that under advisement about Nikephoros. I appreciate you taking the initiative in all this, Sawyer. I really do." The man watches her for a moment, looking like he might say more on the subject but he moves along. "So, one God? They don't like their human shells? Interesting. This stuff about them arguing is fascinating the hell out of me too. Kulko said that one of them gave you all intelligence and comms hookups that helped you rescue people?" To the last, he looks dubious. "What do you want to talk to him about?"

"If he is what people are saying he is…I want to look him in the eye one last time before the eventuality of his firing squad." Maybe it's personal, maybe it's business. Maybe it's Sawyer's insatiable need to dig into the truth of things, but either way there's a fire in her eyes at the request.

"I'll be dead honest, Sawyer. I really hope he's innocent. It'll mean a firing squad for myself and Lieutenant Sophronia, but I would rather he be found innocent." Tillman crosses his arms. "You just want to look him in the eyes? Are you looking to talk to him? If you are, I need to know what. Though keep in mind he may not even talk to you. I don't know what his legal counsel has told him."

Sawyer toys with the coffee mug rather then focusing on the XO, "I'm a reporter, Clive. If given two minutes with the man, I'll fill one minute and fifty-nine seconds trying to get him to answer any conceivable question I can muster. I'll spend the last second on the look." She flicks a strand of hair out of her eyes, looking back to Tillman. "You never know. Maybe he'll talk to me. Wouldn't you like to exhaust that possibility instead of regretting it later?"

"Yeah, I figured. Well? I can try. But you'll have to submit an official request so it can filter through JAG. They may also want to know what was said. If you think it'll do some good, I'll trust you." The Major watches her. "You ever considered law or anything? Or have you always wanted to be a reporter?"

"Law? No. But I am going to run for President." Sawyer manages to pull of saying that casually, taking another sip of her liquor as if to punctuate that non-nonchalant statement.

"I hope you're serious." Tillman doesn't look nearly as non-nonchalant as she does. "Really." He keeps his eyes on her. "I ask because I was considering offering you a position as an interrogator. Hostile parties, et cetera. Figured that someone interested in law might be opposed to something like that."

There's a faint quirk of Sawyer's eyebrow and she quietly slips the cup back on the surface of the desk before pushing roughly and abruptly off it's edge. Her chair gets launched on its rollers in the direction of Tillman's perch, until she thunks into the desk and is stopped. "My greatest interest is the truth. The law is merely one more hurdle I have to figure out how to creatively get around. I didn't learn how to hack a computer by playing fair, after all. Though I dare say 'Interrogator' sort of tarnishes my whole presidential campaign. I'm in, so stop considering."

Tillman watches the woman shoot herself across the distance and smiles a touch. "I'll talk to Pewter, then. I know you have zero interest in wearing the uniform so I won't ask, but he very well might. I haven't mentioned it to him yet. I think you'd be damned good at it. Takes some determination, grit, a strong spirit, and a sharp mind. As far as I'm concerned? You're perfect. Besides, beautiful women like yourself can make people nervous. Always good to take advantage of." He flashes a grin at her. "So c'mon. Talk to me about this Presidential bid. What've you got planned?"

Sawyer twists her chair around, then leans back at a dangerous pitch so she's basically looking at Tillman upside down. "Never under estimate the power of cleavage. That's not my platform, by the way." Her eyes close and she starts to rock on the axis of the chair. "Nothing planned. Someone just said 'President Averies' and I thought it had a ring to it. I haven't worked out the details yet, but it seems like….well. Something ought to be organized. If not me, then…someone. One of the delegates. The civilians need to feel like they're being heard. That they're unified. Otherwise you'll someone like Jase Hylas forming a full fledged protest down in the Hangar bay. Watch that one, my friend."

Tillman chuckles at the remark. "Breasts'll get quite a bit done when employed properly. Ain't a straight man alive that will disagree." He holds that smile on his face as he listens to her. "I'll keep it in mind. About Jase Hylas, I mean. As for the Presidential position? I welcome it. There aren't a ton of social issues anymore and the military outweighs the civilians pretty hard, but I can see the necessity. When were you thinking of getting started with this?" Apparently he doesn't care if any other civilians are running. The man also seems quite impressed and more than a little interested in the prospect.

Sawyer hitches a foot up in the chair with her, the instep hooked on the edge of the seat and she continues the rocking motion with a push of her toes on the other. "Well, let's see. Now that I'm back, I have to finish my first person account of what the Alpha team endured on Leonis. Breath some life back into the civilian volunteer workforce. Use that key you gave me to dig through months of high clearance reports. Now this pet project with becoming an interrogator. Not to mention re-solidify some old contacts I had before I left and make sure the connections are still open. So somewhere between all that and saving the human race? And I'm not even sure how an active government will be received by the military as a whole /and/ the growing civilian community, much less how /I'll/ be received. I'd need a good, strong person to run as my second and thus far, Rejn won't be persuaded. Hell, he might even be my stiffest stickler."

"Sounds like a helluva lot of on your plate, Sawyer." Not that Tillman doesn't sound impressed, either. "Think you can handle all that? I've got other people in mind who can interrogate Cylons if you think you would be of better use somewhere else? Or maybe another reporter can take over months of after action reports to help me find said Cylons." The Major just grins at at her. "Well you leave the civilian government to me. I'll take it to Pewter and tell him that this is something that he is going to have to deal with soon. I'll explain that it would be far better to work with you all than against you. Holding the civilian population under martial law has worked for now, but there is going to come a point where it just won't anymore. As far as Rejn? Find someone else. If you want a chance in hell of winning an election, avoid him. I can tell you that he will get you a no confidence vote."

There's a wolfish grin from the intrepid reporter as she pushes up to straighten in her chair, navigating to face Tillman once more. "You think I'd honestly pass up on either opportunity? It's not the after action reports I'm interested in. It's all the stuff that /wasn't/ already being spoon-fed to me. The tapes of Tuata, for instance. You wouldn't trust that with just /anyone/ would you? And pass up on the chance to sit in a chair across from accused Cylons, look them in the eyes, and ask them every question I'm just dying to know the answer to? You don't know me very well then, Clive. I'll learn to juggle." There's a pause as she considers her coffee cup of whiskey, but ignores the urge to take another drink. "As for Rejn, he may be as personable as a patch of sandpaper…but he's smart. Damn smart. Maybe my first executive decision as the President will be to appoint him as my adviser." Sawyer smirks, getting a kick out of her own farfetched idea.

Tillman's face turns into the same sort of smile. "That's better. And exactly what I was looking for." With the suggestion of Rejn, he chuckles. "Yeah good luck with that. Lemme know how it turns out. I don't think you'd get much cooperation. The guy was going to screw the Navy. I don't think he's done much lately except sit around in his bunk and stir the pot." A grin. "But you're still looking to get all this information? Good. I'll tell you what-" He crosses his arms. "Lieutenant Nikephoros. She's into counterintelligence and would probably be good for you both to bounce off each other. Once she is vetted, I'm going to have her assigned to you. Think you can handle dealing with more military-types? Or you about all uniformed-out?"

Sawyer laces her fingers together, draping her conjoined hands over the raised knee. "Assigned to /me/ instead of the other way around? I like the sound of that. I'll be sure to let it go to my head. Or are you just trying to stick someone with me to make sure I stay in line?" There's a small shrug from the Journalist. "Cora and I get along alright, working together shouldn't be an issue."

Tillman shakes his head. "I don't have much intention of seeing you kept in line. However, yeah, she can make sure that there isn't anything going out that shouldn't. But no, that isn't my primary reason. Counterintel will be a good asset for this sort of work. Between your questions and her military approach, I think it might work well. It will also help immensely to have a military partner so if you need to work with the Marines, it's not rough like sandpaper." The man at least -seems- genuine about all this. "But yeah, glad you don't have a problem with her. I'll let her know about the work." Mental notes taken. "So what exactly are you looking for with the Presidency? Military command? Considering that the military is civilian controlled, what kind of platform do you stand on there?"

"I've actually been thinking about that…" Sawyer draws the inside meat of her cheek between her teeth, worrying her pearly whites against it for a moment before she continues. "I have no intention of controlling the military. My efforts there would be laughable. But I /do/ intend to see that martial law is reined in enough that the civilians will get more of a say, an /educated/ say in their futures. The lines of communication have to be opened between the two. No more of this 'we're doing what's good for you, so just trust us'. If what they say /is/ true about Michael, the civilian population will have a hard time trusting /anyone/ in command to just continue pulling all the strings. My goal is to maintain peace between the two groups so that we can continue waging a war where it matters."

"That's a tough spot to be in considering everyone is currently living on board a military vessel. Where do you draw the line? Do we with-hold the Cerberus from combat simply because there are civilians on board who might get killed? To we take another ship off the line in order to take on that responsibility?" Tillman asks this as academic questions. He has a very real personal stake in this but he looks as if he's trying to keep it impartial for now. "If its true about Abbot, then the public isn't going to have much choice. What's the alternative? Trust nobody? If they only trust in the civilian leadership then they may demand that you control military operations. Whatever happens, though, I do have to warn you, pulling anyone or anything off military operations would be beyond hard. Got a way to try and rectify that or is it more of a detailed question?" She actually allows a smile. "I don't expect you to have all the answers now, Sawyer. This is just some food for thought."

"I mean to make sure a word like 'conscription' never comes up again. I mean to make sure that even though what's left of humanity is sleeping on cots in the hangar bay that they have a /life/, Clive. That they aren't just some chattel to be easily forgotten when it's opportune. Because they /do/ still have a say. It just needs to be heard. And when all this is over and done with, and we're on to restarting civilization, the history books aren't going to be filled with nothing but blank pages because the content was edited out as being 'high clearance required'." Sawyer says quickly, then pauses, screwing up her expression with thought, then shaking away whatever notion occurred just then.

"Sawyer, that's why I told you I wanted you to write our history. Not some Petty Officer from supply. I'm more interested in truth than making sure my ass looks clean from two hundred years in the future." Tillman shakes his head. "Trust me, conscription will NOT be a problem. You want to see me get violent? That will do it. But as for giving them a say, that's where you run into that line of controlling the military through public policy. I'm not about to say that there's no choice because we're the guys with the guns, but I will say that there is going to have to be a balance found between combat operations and what they want. Trust start looking into some of the shit we have been faced with and I'm not sure you'll think much of running or sitting idle someplace 'safe'."

"I've been down on Leonis. The only safety to be found is in running around like a cockroach avoiding the light for fear of being crushed beneath a Centurion's heel. That's not a life. And you say it won't be a problem, but the more safe holds we have against it? The better. But yes, I know what you mean by public policy. And no, I don't want to see you get violent. You should save that kind of kink for your lady friend." Sawyer says with a smirk.

Tillman returns the expression with the mention of Quinn but doesn't elaborate. "In a lot of ways, the situation is similar. We're surrounded. They may know where we are. But we aren't hiding. Up for repairs, sure." The man moves to stand off the desk. "I don't know what kind of holds you're talking about using, but we have done pretty well. Just..remember that what you are going to find in those files? It will very likely change the way you view things. Hindsight provides a lot clues. And a lot of confusion. I used to be a strict atheist, Sawyer. These days?" He shrugs. "I just don't know anymore."

Sawyer never mentioned Quinn by name, it's a fair assumption she might not even know /who/ the XO is seeing. She raises a hand to her eyes, rubbing at one with the heel of her palm in an obvious display of weariness. "As long as you don't start believing in One True God, I think you'll be alright. And I have to know the truth. For better or worse, it's just how I'm wired. Though…wired is a poor choice of words, considering." Heh.

"I'm not about to start preaching or saying I believe in anything just yet. But I know enough to admit that I could be wrong. The possibility is always there." Tillman keeps his voice cool and relaxed, as impartial as ever. "I expect that when you watch the videotape of Miss Tuata's interrogation and read the case file? You will get a better sense. When you take into context the religious ceremonies just prior to our launching? Things will look muddier still. When you look at the sheer miracles by which we have survived?" He inclines his head. "Open mind, open heart, Sawyer. You may not like what you find but I look forward to your thoughts on it. Now.. you look a bit tired. Get some rack, okay? I'll send Nikephoros down to you when I can."

Sawyer mms rather noncommittally to all of that, having the audacity to wave the XO/friend out with with a flick of her wrist. And a single word muttered, "Go."

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