PHD #321: Friends and Duty
PHD #321: Friends and Duty
Summary: Khloe consults Cidra on matters of helping a friend get heard.
Date: 13 Jan 2041 AE
Related Logs: Stay Within The Lines
Cidra Khloe 
CAG's Office - Deck 10 - Battlestar Cerberus
Though it's not much bigger than the average ship supply closet, the office of the commander of Cerberus' air group has as much luxury as one can hope for aboard a battlestar: a hatch that locks. It is dominated by a blocky gray metal desk straight out of standard Navy supply. Behind it is the room's single indulgence, a high-backed rolling chair of almost comfortable-looking brown leather. That one, the CAG probably had to import herself. A few other chairs are shoved against the wall, able to be rolled over should visitors to the lair require one, though those are of the standard not-terribly-comfortable Navy offices variety.
The aforementioned desk contains a computer that looks rarely touched and an ashtray of greenish glass that is obviously frequently used, as well as the standard office supplies. The surface is usually cluttered with files, squadron reports, flight schedules and other aerial bureaucratic sundry of the day. A metal carafe, filled with water or coffee or tea depending on the CAG's whim, is usually at hand on the desk's corner. The rest of the office is packed with filing cabinets and wall shelves, the latter of which hold various flight manuals and military and historical books.
Any decorations on the walls are limited to professional awards and mementos from Major Hahn's past tours of service. It is largely devoid of the personal, save for one item: upon the shelf just behind and above her desk, serving as one side of a bookend to a collection of Raptor manuals, is a wooden statue of a small brown owl with very large eyes. A person might get the feeling of those eyes following him around this confined space.
Post-Holocaust Day: #321

The hatch to Cidra's office is slightly ajar. As it tends to be, generally, when she's in there and not buried in something terribly private. She's seated at her desk, smoking and reviewing some CAP rotation schedules. It's mid-shift, so there's a general rhythm and flow of bureaucratic personnel through the office.

Bang, bang, comes the heralding knock often imitated but never duplicated. Khloe steps into the office, setting the hatch back to its slightly-ajar state. Pulling her jacket flat, as she is want to do when she's either irritated (often) or puzzled (less often), Poppy wrinkles her nose a faint bit as she comes to a halt before the Major's desk. "You know, Toast, I've never been one to question your smoking habit, but after that one cigarette over a month ago I remembered why I never touch them." That's her way of saying, it stinks in here. "Busy?"

"It is an acquired taste," Cidra says. She does put her cigarette out. Carefully. She can still smoke the rest of that one later. "Everyone has vices, Poppy. I have done worse. At present, just bureaucracy. It will keep. What is on your mind?"

Khloe moves her hands behind her, standing at a modified form of parade rest. Another sign that she's got something troubling her thoughts: she doesn't know how to vocalize her discomfort. "Well, sir, I was wondering. Have you… had a chance to review my request? About meeting with Lieutenant Vandenberg. I know it's an unorthodox request, but… well… permission to speak freely?" Of course she doesn't have to ask for it, but this is the Way of Poppy.

"Permission granted. And as you were, Captain. In any case, I will certainly speak with her, though I am unsure how much aid I shall be to…whatever it is she is after. This does not strike as some sort of formal bureaucratic matter, so I do not see any reason to treat it as such. My door is open, as it were." Cidra's brows arch at Khloe. She eyes her cigarette again. Perhaps regretting dousing it so quickly.

Exhaling quietly, Khloe's posture relaxes. Blinking a few times, she finds her words, no doubt thinking them through even with permission for a more free mode of speech. "I've a strange working friendship with the Lieutenant, you see. Professional, since I'm still her superior officer, of course, but since we're in completely different branches of the military, I figured I would, er, get to know the woman." She's making it sound like she went on a date with her; however unlikely that is, it's like the woman can't admit she has a friend. "She's got some crazy ideas, but logically, after looking at the connections she's drawn on this Bull of Zeus nons-" She cuts herself short, clearing her throat. "Er, I meant, Bull of Zeus matter. I'm not a believer, sir, as you know, but I know that you are. And you know scripture like I know how Bubbles' sheets aren't regulation. I guess what I'm trying to get at, sir, is… I'd like you to hear out her theories. Her chain of command, from what I gather, isn't interested in her hypotheses. And normally I'd be one to support the chain of command, but in this instance… it's too coincidental. Sir."

"Ah." The 'Ah' carries a faintly smiling quality to it from Cidra. Though, as with most of her reactions, it is mild. "That is good. Getting to know people is good." As for the rest, she shrugs. "I tell you I shall see her. But I suspect she seeks answer that are not so simply there to find. Not because this matter is unimportant. I suspect the Cylons' interest in our faiths is most important. But such as this is not as simple as plotting a recon or a ground op. There may *be* no clear answer. Even the most learned Oracles do not understand all that lies in Scripture, and the Cylons' belief structure is a twisted, blasphemous thing that has little relation to our pantheon of faiths. It is a murky subject, and if she seeks simple clarity I cannot provide it. Nor can anyone."

"What she seeks, sir, is validation," Khloe offers up to Cidra. "She's…" Glancing over her shoulder towards the ajar hatch, she then lowers her voice. "She's someone who has confidence issues, but she's latched onto this like it's some sort of gods-send, as if they touched her with divine inspiration or something." Khloe shrugs lightly, but then the timbre to her voice becomes almost meek. "It would mean a lot to me if, ah, you didn't dismiss her theories outright."

"I do not dismiss questions of the Faiths, Poppy," Cidra says. Her tone rather grave and even on the matter. She's not offended, precisely, but the implication doesn't sit particularly well with her. "Though if she desires religious counsel - which I presume she has already sought - she would be better-served speaking to the chaplain."

Khloe shifts her stance slightly, perhaps taking a step backward a centimeter. She does not like Cidra offended. "Well, sir, I think she saw Captain Karthasi, if that's who you're referring to. I don't think she found the answers she was looking for." Idly, she scratches at the inside of her left arm, frowning slightly. "I know how far-fetched it all must sound to you, Toast."

"I do not think it, as I did try to say, far-fetched," Cidra says. "I do suspect much of it to be beyond our understanding. Which is quite different, and a thing that does unsettle me deep. I shall try to speak with her as I can, however. Do not worry, Captain." Pause, and she adds wryly, "I shall do my best not to…offend her, if that is what you fear." Faintest of smiles.

Khloe nods slowly. "Thank you, sir. I really do appreciate this." Glancing towards the chronometer on the wall, her frown deepens, and she begins to worry on her lower lip a little. "I suppose, it's all over by now? The execution." Whoah, change of topic.

"I do not know," Cidra replies soft, as to the execution. The reaches down to pluck up her cigarette. Fingering it, though she does not light it again. Eyes flick up to the chronometer. "Yes. It is past time." She sighs. "I cannot say I knew Admiral Abbot well. We had not served together long when he was removed from command. Called the enemy. I thought it a necessity then. This…perhaps it is all necessity." She sounds like someone trying to convince herself of something.

"I asked if I could be one of the witnesses, since I participated in his trial," Khloe states. Where's she's going with this isn't apparent until the next bit: "I was denied. Then I saw the Old Man, the Admiral, and a Marine escort led through some high security on the deck onto a Raptor, presumably to be executed in the thick of the anchorage radiation." Shrugging lightly, she says, "What's done is done. Going out with a quiet bang in the dark of space with no one to watch you pass is… an end fitting for a Toaster, I suppose."

"It is done now," Cidra says. There is a mixture of relief and unease in her tone, though she keeps both carefully tempered. "I pray our Fleet is safer for it. You did your duty, as part of the trial, and I at least thank you for it. It was not an easy thing."

Beginning to turn for the exit, Khloe says, in parting, "The man was a security risk, Cylon or not. Thank you, Major."

"It was your duty, Poppy. Never forget that," Cidra says in parting to the other woman. It's said in an oddly comforting sort of way. She lets her go, on that note.

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