PHD #449: Finding Consensus
Finding Consensus
Summary: The recon team assembled their thoughts for a majority. And insults.
Date: 21 May 2042 AE
Related Logs: Too many to list.
Ciro Decumius Constin Vandenberg 
Cliffs Overlooking Lampridis
Its in the set.
Condition Level: 2 - Danger Close
Post-Holocaust Day: #449

Leaving Circe and Lysander to keep the OP occupied, the Marine Captain has called together the four men she jumped with to have a short discussion deeper in the brush. She's drawn out a rough sandtable map of the town in the dirt with rocks used to denote locations. Bullets and other items brought with are also used. She's squatting at the end of the sandtable by the Agor-Mart, her rifle lain across her knees while she looks over the notable things spotted and when.

The soft crunch of pine needles announces the arrival of Ciro Sondray. Rifle pointed towards the ground, he lets it hang from his sling as he reaches to the scarf that hangs around his neck, freeing up some more breathing room. He takes a knee on the opposite side of Captain Vandenberg, pulling out his canteen. His eyes fall to the map of the town, quietly looking over the positions to make sure there isn't a detail that's been missed. "What've we got going on here?" He whispers, looking to her face.

Natalie's eyes lift to the men. "Okay guys, what I'm looking for are honest opinions about what we're seeing here. We don't need a consensus, but it'd be nice." She takes up a longer stick to use as a pointer. "When we get back, we're going to have to tell people what we think. Trust your guts. Think about what we saw. We saw a religious ceremony led by Solon here. We saw numerous armed men all over town with a couple Centurion patrols in this area. Throughout the night large crates were seen being transported by hand around this area." She gestures to each. "Yesterday we see the defensive positions dug in alone this line here. Plus the anti-aircraft batteries and potential command post at the Agora-Mart. We also saw a two teaching civilians how to shoot. Any other pertinent facts we're missing, speak up." She slowly rises from the squat and looks between them. "Otherwise, I want your opinions before I give mine. Tell me what you all think we are looking at."

Constin stands and stretches as Vandenberg lays out the floorplan, and asks for opinions. Narrowing his stare on the hand drawn dirt map, he nods after several seconds, indicating he understands. A mental inventory of the sights and circumstances the team have noted. Arms crossed over his chest, the Gunnery Sergeant considers in silence several moments.

Ciro's eyes fall back down to the makeshift map, following the stick that Vandenberg uses as a pointer. He nods with each detail, agreeing with the Captain. He frowns and lets out a sigh as he sits back on his calves, and brings the canteen to his lips to give him a few more moments to think before he opens his mouth. "Frak." He grunts under his breath. "I don't know. There's two things I'm seeing here. Let's start with side one. I'm seeing only cylon twos and elevens, which allegedly don't have a history of aggression against us. They're training people to shoot, and the civilians look comfortable enough around the Centurions. The Raptors didn't catch the Forge and Foxfires, and we didn't get shot at. They look defensive to me, but we haven't seen exactly what they need protection from. All we've seen so far on this planet have been deer, geese, and supposedly friendly Cylons."

He pauses, frowning again. "Then again, having said that, there's Cylons down here, and these people might not have any intel about the war, and in the face of food and shelter would likely beg a Cylon for aid. There's got to be people we're not seeing, which could be the rest of the Cylons, and we still haven't seen any Raider landing pad, which we know has to exist. They've got AA worthy of frakking up our best, and they're armed. Worst of all, they're not being specific. For all we know that Brother Solon was asking for us to rescue these people from this Cylon front when he was vaguely asking for help."

He glances around to their faces, shaking his head. "We don't know enough and they're clearly not starving, and right now our fleet isn't in any danger from them. Too risky to get too close is my opinion, at least until we know more. I don't think it's a trap, and I don't think it's what Bannik thinks it is either. It could go either way. What we need to do is setup a FOB and keep this place under surveillance until we find out what they're protecting themselves against at the very least."

Decumius takes a seat at the little sandtable map in the woods after having brought up some rations to the two on OP duty. He's got a big fat wad of dip in his lower lip, the chewing tobacco giving him what almost looks like a permanent grin. He's quick enough to catch the majority of Ciro's analysis, but remains quiet for now, pulling out a notepad from his chest rig's map pocket.

Vandenberg lifts a finger to one point after he finishes. "Actually, the elevens do have a history of violent action. A few of them were in charge of a biowarfare facility and ordered some of their drones to machinegun a few women on the boarding team." She glances to Constin and back. "They were rendered sterile. I won't name names, but that's open hostility towards our crew. However, in the interest of objectivity, that was one of our first contacts and they proved helpful afterwards." She's deadly serious about all of this, her face grim beneath the helmet. She then looks towards Decumius and then back to Constin. "Let's have it."

Constin remains stonefaced as Ciro speaks of the Elevens, and as Vandy makes her amendment to their track record. "Their anti-aircraft might be impressive, but lets not forget there ain't an Ay-Ay battery ever existed could defend any piece of ground against the Cylons, if'n they decided they wanted to wipe it out. Same for the rest of the defenses. They're digging in for a conventional defense, and that kinda defense can't hold up to Centurions, or orbital bombardment. That makes me think it ain't silver and shiny they're set to fight off. You know well as any of us, sir-" he adds, looking directly to Natalie, "Once the cylons take note of a ground position and want to wipe it out, it's a matter of time." Eyeing Ciro again, he notes, "I'm with Sondray on that needing to know what they're scared of, cause it just don't fit." A drawn breath. "I say its worth making contact, but no frakking way should we bring the Fleet here." He says nothing of cylon motivations, schemes or traps. A plain tactical appraisal.

Decumius coughs, spitting out a big wad of brown-ish chew spit onto the pine needle blanketed ground in front of him. "Well, sir. I think it's a bit more complicated than we thought originally. With all their prep, the suspicion we've observed in them… I have a feeling that the humans here have been brainwashed, more or less, into believing that these Cylon models have totally about face and decided to become friends with humanity. Because they obviously weren't our friends in the times of yore, or maybe we would have had some warning about the Cylons in the first place. But that's neither here nor there."

He flips his pad to a page and falls silent for a few moments as his eyes flit up and down to review. Then he looks back up. "I suspect they may have a bunch of reasons to be armed. One is the other Cylons, which is speculative because we have no idea whether this is a ruse that the whole Cylon fleet cooked up. And as Gunny said, this wouldn't really overcome a concerted attak by the other Cylons - though maybe with the Basestar in orbit, they'd have air support, so it might be a fight."

"Second is us, and I don't think that's speculative at all. We would take very heavy casualties if we tried a straight up ground assault here to 'rescue' these civilians. Probably because they don't want to be rescued. Thirdly, and this is my personal hunch… would be to defend against people on the planet who don't buy into the My-Brother-Cylon propaganda that these folks are pushing." He pauses, taking a breath. "Sorry. But, I have a feeling there are more humans on this planet who maybe don't agree that cooperating with the Cylons is a productive use of their time, and maybe are armed and resisting. We don't have any evidence, though. I wish we could explore the wilderness more to find out.

"The cylons arming and training civilians supports that angle." Ciro nods, pausing for another sip of the water. It's just a little agreement thrown in before Vandenberg can respond.

"To their credit, Gunnery Sergeant, I've seen anti-aircraft turned against ground forces. You can use it fairly effectively, but its a last ditch effort." To the point about wiping something out, Vandenberg's eyes turn down and she nods once. "Aye. Once the Cylons find something they don't like, its like an eraser on a chalkboard. They just clean it. Then they bombard it from orbit until its a smoking hole after checking for intel or survivors." She swallows and looks back up to Decumius. Her face becomes once more impassive while he speaks up but she never interrupts him. Once he finishes she quirks a brow. "That's a set of alternatives I hadn't considered. Good thinking, Decumius." The Captain seems quite impressed by this. "I'll be passing that scenario along with your name attached." And she will. Never sell your men short. "I agree that we would also take heavy casualties on a hostile air assault. We'd have to either land in town or perform a massive air drop in the wilderness - and either scenario kills surprise. Air defenses would also be an issue." She lowers the butt of her rifle and taps it once in the dirt as if switching gears. "Okay, final thoughts before I belch my own angle and propose a consensus?"

Constin drawls plainly, "The only thing that a basestar in orbit tells me is that there is zero chance that the openly hostile cylons don't know this little camp is here. If that's the case, they are choosing to allow this bunch to remain here." The big man remains as he stands: boots planted at shoulder width, arms crossed. "How many basestars the cylons got? Dozens? More?" A shake of his head. "Conventional defense of a fixed position like this just ain't possible. Until these hippies come clean about what they want from us, it's too dangerous a situation to commit an open presense."

Decumius shakes his head at Van's question. He doesn't respond verbally to her mentioning that she'll pass the idea up, but a tiny bit of a smile cracks at the side of his lips, to be replaced within a short moment by his normal neutrality. However, this discussion has him looking energized - he was a reconnaissance man for years before Warday, and it's one of his favourite things. A nod to Constin. "Roger, Gunny, but I think we've all seen people with no hope in hell doing stuff because it makes them feel better. Even if they couldn't survive a real Cylon attack ,that doesn't mean they wouldn't try. People, especially outside the structure of the military, I find are less than coldly rational."

"I've got a few days rations packed away still, and the wildlife's obviously finding shit to eat. Rads are holding out, too. That pair of raiders saw us come in, and might have seen us hit the ground. There's a chance they're on their best behavior, and there's no telling if that AA tracked us on the way in or way out." Ciro offers, screwing the cap back onto his canteen. "If you'd allow I'd like to stay down here, be your eyes groundside while the rest of you figure this shit out upstairs."

"Okay, like I said to Sondray and Constin knows, I've led resistance operations. Spent quite a few months after Warday organizing one on Aerilon. This?" She gestures towards the cliff hidden behind scrub. "It looks a lot like that except that we weren't working with Cylons. And we were better equipped. Now, having said that?" She inclines her head. "This stinks. Bad. They aren't being clear and they lied with their representation of being pascifists. What else they are lying about is anyone's guess. Particularly with Elf's new point: That basestar in orbit hasn't engaged our Raptors. But how many do they have? How many basestars does this group here control? They might have several dozen of them. Either way, these are not pascifists. Period. Basestars carry nuclear weapons and massive Raider racks. Pascifists do not rock Forge tactical air defense systems. They fulla shite and we busted them on one point. Now I like a lot of what you're saying and it makes a good ton of sense. Especially with the civvies, aye, Decumius. I think this place stinks and I want to advocate more aggressive recon. Specifically, making contact and/or potentially performing a snatch and grab operation of a few civilians prior to contact. There's potential either way but right now this feels wrong. I can't recommend the fleet come here in any capacity. That's what I would like to tell command as a representation for most of the team. Are there any objections?" She then looks to Ciro and shakes her head. "Denied, Sergeant. We all stay or we all leave. Besides.. if you stay, how do we know you haven't been replaced by a more reliable Cylon model of yourself?" Its given as a tease with a smirk.

Constin nods to Decumius, "Ain't that the frakking truth?" he sniffs to the notion of irrational civilians. "Still. Whatever reason they're doing it don't change the liklihood that the openly hostile cylons are allowing the bunch to sit here." Ciro's further words and suggestion provoke a thoughtful frown as he turns an eye back to the Captain as he goes sielnt to listen. A short bullish snort of humor escapes at the Ciro skinjob line. He nods to Vandy afterward. "Agreed, sir. Think that might be unanimous."

From here on, this log is Rated I: Immature. Parents are strongly cautioned against Marines being Marines and salty about it.

"Permission to drag Corporal Decumius into the recon then? He's a swingin' dick worth trusting…" Ciro tries a second attempt.

"Ain't a cod swingin on this recon I ain't ready to go into battle with. Don't change anything, Sergeant. Denied," Vandenerg holds her slight smirk.

Again, Decumius shakes his head. This time he's got words to back up his answer to Vandenberg's question. "No objections, sir. That would be putting the Fleet in enormous danger for no dividends, as far as we know right now. Just because there's a few civilians here living under the supervision of a few Cylons, doesn't mean anything positive for the Fleet. If that's all I had to go on, I'd jump the frak away. But since we may be able to do more recon, I'd say that's a better idea."

Decumius grins at Ciro's attempt to draw him in. "Ya frakkin' cunt." He is amused though, and he winks.

Ciro's face shifts to the side in a scowl, finding himself thoroughly shot down. Perhaps its being on the ground that he's addicted to. "Whatever, Lucius, you know you'd rather be in the bush down here than in that frakkin' tin can. You run out of tampons or something?" Ciro harrumphs, shrugging his shoulders. He lets the subject drop. "No objections, sir. I think we're all on the same page here. We want to know more but right now we can't. If we do send in someone to communicate though, I wanna be up here with a Cavalera."

Decumius mock frowns at the former sniper, Sergeant Ciro Sondray. "Naw, but I got a few gnarly grains of sand in my vagina and I wanted to wash them out in the Cerberus head before I dropped back." He says, offhandedly.

Decumius adds, "Unless you wanna scrub me clean, ya big softie."

"Sondray, you wouldn't know what to do with a bush groundside OR in the black," Constin needles dryly. "Right," back to Vandenberg, "That's agreement then. If Lagana and Lysander agree, that's unanimous."

"Yeah, that's what we're hearin. They leave each other alone. But if that's the real case then these people are holding out a resistence movement against other humans - which I don't like one damned bit." Vandenberg grumps, chewing on the thoughts almost literally. "I'm in line with ya, Decumius. If we show up, the payout goes to them and we absorb all the risk.. unless they're telling the truth about having something important for us and our having the key. So far? They can kiss my Kirtland City Arse if they think this unclear bullshit is going to fly. Alright, I'm going to pass along each one of your concerns to Command. Be ready to defend it if need-be. When we get back, people are going to want to know what we saw. Especially Bannik and his cronies. If- and that's a big IF- we aren't placed under a gag order, you people stick to the truth. Do not bullshit yourselves or anyone else." Finishing, she looks between Ciro and Decumius and quirks a brow. "Dang. You kiss your boyfriends with those mouthes?"

"Captain this is an up here conversation." Ciro holds his arm a few feet over the ground, giving Vandenberg a big grin. He lowers his hand to a few inches off of the ground. "Not a your-level conversation…" His hand raises back up to three feet off the ground. He mouths, silently, the words 'up here conversation'. "Besides, Lucius ain't never kissed a girl. Last one he did gave him a chew habit." Ciro laughs silently, issuing a rude gesture in Constin's direction, middle finger and all. "Bunch of bitches you are."

"Roger. I'm a grey man, anyways, sir. Unseen and all outside the company. I don't think anybody who isn't in B Company is going to ask me any questions." The Corporal seems pleased by the notion. He rolls his eyes. "Well, the only time I kiss anyone is when Crio dresses up like a go go girl and tucks his package." He blows a kiss at Ciro, then laughs.

Ciro issues Decumius a look of horror. "…on second though, boss, forget I requested the Corporal for spotter detail."

"Oh sorry, well luckily we don't have to come close to worryin about y'pecker gettin involved in this. Thought I heard a gal from Pete's whisperin somethin about her pet name for y'cod bein something like Thumbelina." Vandenberg lifts her hands in surrender to Ciro, taking a step back with a smirk.

"Damnation, at least keep the faggotry down to a dull roar, ladies," Constin snorts, cracking a tight grin, despite his complaint.

"I know right?" Ciro asks, looking to Constin for some sort of safety in the conversation. "Between Lucius picturing me in a dress and officer spinner's neverending inspection of my crank, it's no wonder I sleep with my back up against something defensible." He snorts, keeping his voice low. The levity slowly starts to fade from his eyes, turning back to Vandenberg. "Roger, though, I'll be ready for questioning and I'll be submitting to you my sketches."

"Another man's front end is not defensible, Sondray," Vandenberg chides, shaking a finger towards him. "But yeah, once we're on the Raptor everyone submit all their sketches to me. I'll make photocopies of all of it and submit the originals back to you. I want you ugly fraks to keep these sketches locked someplace safe and away from prying eyes. Ya lose em? Your ass belongs to Sondray and I don't think anyone here wants that kind of punishment."

"Don't they say in the mines that only the one who's taking it is a faggot, Gunny?" Asks Decumius with a mock innocent doe-eyed look, smirking. "Well, I'm sure you'd be able to clear that one up. And the only reason you sleep with your back up against the wall, Ciro, is cause you've attached a little vibrating dildo where your ass goes." He closes his notepad and replaces it in his chest rig's map pocket. "We start spooling up and heading out there, sir?" He snorts. "You're assuming that Sondray's a pitcher. Telling him he's gonna have to be one is probably a good threat for him, though."

Vandenberg snickers, doing her best to keep her voice from going above a whisper. "Shhhhhit," she laughs out and finally looks back to the three. "Alright, enough ass slapping you pukes. Let's pack up our rucks, clear the OP, and get oscar mike. No more grab ass until you kids get back to your berthings." She slings her rifle over her shoulder and begins kicking away the outline of the sandtable in the dirt.

"What the frak? If the JAG gets that fight night going I'm gonna beat the piss—" Ciro gets out before Vandenberg calls for the cease fire. He covers his mouth, lowering his head to the ground to chase away his thought process. They can finish this argument back upstairs. He rises, kicking the outline as well, making the makeshift map disappear.

Decumius spits another nasty wad of brown chew onto the ground as he gets up. He stretches and slings his rifle over his shoulder before ambling back to the small campsite. His bag is mostly packed and ready, so he focuses mainly on cleaning up as many traces of human presence as he can.

Constin nods once as the Captain declares it 'time for work', dropping the banter as quickly as he'd taken it up, beginning the strike-camp process. Another day in the Corp.

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