PHD #004: First Assignment
Log Title
Summary: Atreus entrusts an investigation to one of the new kids.
Date: 02 Mar, 2041
Related Logs: None yet
Atreus Bannik 

[ Chief's Office ]---[ Hangar Deck - Battlestar Cerberus ]
The room is fairly small, to maximize the area of the deck itself. It contains a smallish metal desk with locking drawers, a computer terminal, a file cabinet against one wall and metal shelves filled with tools, spare parts, and manuals. There are two chairs facing the desk, clearly scavenged from somewhere else. One area of the shelving, nearest the desk, has been cleared and is clean. This holds a coffee maker that constantly seems to have some brew or other in it. Above the chair behind the desk, in a position of prominence, a framed picture has been hung. It is an embroidered image depicting Hephaestus with his two metal helpers. The work is beautiful and almost lovingly detailed. The god is laughing, one eye bright where a patch covers the other. He is held aloft by his helpers, one done in glittering gold, the other in silver.

Bannik makes his way into Atreus's office, coming to that super-crisp-just-from-basic sort of attention that nobody can do like crewmen do. "You wanted to see me, Chief?" asks Tyr. Finally the memorandum — his first memorandum! — will be explained.

Atreus is seated behind his desk. There is something on his computer screen and he is just… staring at it. He did not hear the hatch open, though your voice catches him by surprise. Looking up, he masks his look with a blink and a smile, "Yes. I did. Please. Sit down, Bannik. I…" Reaching over, he blanks the screen, then steeples his fingers and rests his elbows on the desk. For once, there is no coffee brewing on his shelf. "Thank you for coming."

Bannik moves to take a seat in front of Atreus's desk, folding his hands one over the other in a very calm sort of way. "You all right, Chief?" asks the Crewman, a bit of worry in his voice. "If it's not a good time —" He gestures over his shoulder at the door.

Atreus lifts a hand to run the palm over his head, the gesture demonstrating the fact that he needs a haircut more surely than the shadows under his eyes attest to his recent lack of sleep. "Yeah, I'm fine, Bannik. Thanks. Just catching up on aome reports. Anyway. Not why I called you here." He reaches for a folder and slips it to his desk, "I have a special project that I want you working on. It is a bit hush-hush, though, Bannik. I know that is a bit hard to manage on a ship like this and with a crew like ours. If you do not think that you can keep a lid on it, please let me know." Difficult for one so young, Atreus knows.

"I mean. Yeah. Sure. Whatever you need, Chief. I can keep it under wraps." Bannik's eyes behind his glasses go fairly wide at the mention of a secret project. Yeah, he's intrigued. "I mean. I'm not sure what you need me for, but …" He shrugs. "I just want to help, Chief. Anything I can do."

Atreus nods, "Okay. We'll go forward then. Tell me what you know about the attack and how it went for our birds." He relaxes a bit, leaning into his chair. As he moves his hands clasp and rest on his desk, forearms holding the folder in place for the moment.

"Well." Tyr scrunches up his brow as if trying to puzzle out the question. "The bad guys came. And when we tried to scramble our birds, a lot of them just locked up. Dead in space. Except, I guess, the Mark II's, the older ones. But I mean, the V's and the VII's are just shot. And the Raptors, too." He shakes his head. "It's the damndest thing."

Atreus nods, listening. "Right. It was a frakup. Currently, we are interviewing the pilots to see if we can figure out what happened from a humanistic point of view. It is a start, but it is not enough. We have a few Mark VIIs out there. Lieutenant Oberlin has asked for our help in looking at the birds from an avionics and mechanical point of view. That is where you come in." He lifts his hands then and taps the folder, "This is the repair and maintenance records for two mark IIs and two Mark VIIs. Pull the frameboards, check the CNP program and look at the onboard computers. I want to know every difference between the two no matter how minute. You will be working with Lieutenant Oberlin." With that, he lifts the folder and offers it to you, "I want to know why those birds went belly up, Bannik. But, more than that, I want to know how to keep them alive if those bad guys show up again." He looks entirely, utterly sober.

Bannik reaches out his hand for the folder, taking it into his hands with a deep breath. "All right, Chief. You got it." And he exhales, letting out the breath slowly. He has the look of — well, what he is. A kid in over his head. "I'll do my best to get to the bottom of this." Well, this is going to be a heck of a first assignment.

Atreus nods, "I know you will, Bannik. You really have a great mind. Just remember to be flexible. Not everything works the way it should and almost nothing is the way it is in school." His smile is warm, though that only accentuates how tired he looks. "Now, remember not to talk to anyone about this. I will assign PO 1st Damon to work with you. He is not avionics, but knows the mechanical side of things intimately. You can talk to him or me about this at any time. I mean that. I do not want you to feel abandoned or over your head." Again, that smile, "At least… No more than any of us already do."

Bannik takes a deep breath and gets up to his feet, clutching the folder tightly to his chest. "Not a word," he promises. "Not even to Rat or anyone." Breathe in. Breathe out. "We'll figure it out. Whatever it is. I mean. Something had to have done this. It's got to be in there somewhere. It always leaves traces."

Atreus nods, "Thank you. And I am sorry about asking for secrecy. Especially since Teresi is your bunkmate. If you find that you need someone of her specific abilities, I would not mind including her. I just do not know yet what you will be needing." He nods when you rise, a half quirked smile finally showing, "Alright, then. Go on and get busy. I need to look at 307."

"Getting busy, Chief!" promises Bannik, perhaps not meaning it how it came out. But with something approaching a scamper, the lanky crewman makes his way from the office. Huh.

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