PHD #403: Incident Reports
Incident Reports
Summary: In which the Master at Arms brings an incident involving a pilot to the CAG's attention.
Date: 05 Apr 2042 AE
Related Logs: Due Process for the incident in question; Incidents of Various Sorts for the follow-up; Major I'd Like to Fly With for why Cidra is blinking so much throughout this scene.
Cidra Constin 
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: privacy. It is dominated by a blocky gray metal desk straight out of standard Navy supply with an equally standard-issue rolling chair behind it. A few other chairs are shoved against one wall, for those who drop by for whatever business they have with the CAG. The surface of the desk is covered by a computer and stacks of files and octagonal papers covering whatever bit of aerial bureaucracy she's mussing with that day. A few heavy books on air mechanics - mostly devoted to Raptors - occupy the shelves. The room is largely devoid of decoration, save one item hanging on a hook on the shelf direct above her desk: a set of prayer beads, well-worn olive wood and strung with a single, crudely-carved owl charm.
Post-Holocaust Day: #403

Cidra has not been long out of quarantine, but the CAG has returned to duty. And the small mountain of memos, reports and other aerial bureaucratic sundry that's amassed on her desk. Despite her SLs handling much of the load while she was down, it's piled high. She's presented seated at said desk, hatch slightly ajar, smoking a cigarette and squinting at something-or-other on an octagonal printout.

And into the Naval offices walks a familiar- if unexpected- face. Constin still wears his on duty tan uniform draped over the right shoulder, to allow for the cast which swallows his right arm up to the elbow as he steps toward the CAG's office. The big marine's scarred face is set in a typically stern expression as he slows his booted steps upon approaching Cidra..

Uptick Cidra's eyes from whatever it is she's reading at a new form moving outside her office. She straightens to get a better look, standing. "Gunnery Sergeant?" A touch of - not surprise precisely - in her tone. But certainly curiosity. "May I assist you in some manner? The Master at Arms is little seen in this environment."

"Major Hahn," Constin returns, raising his right hand in slow, but proper salute. A dry curl to his lip precedes his explanation, "The Master at Arms don't have much cause to show his face, round here, sir. Need words with you on the subject of one a yours." The brief warming of his expression fades by that last. Should the CAG assent, the MaA will touch the door closed with his left hand before going on.

The salute is returned fluidly, Cidra's posture straightening a notch at the gesture. She's a tall woman, and has a tendency to slouch if she's not watching herself. "Ah." That gets her attention in a more serious manner. "Come in, then, and close the hatch behind you. I warn you, I only just exited Sickbay twelve hours previous, and am rather playing catch-up. If this was a minor incident on which has been reported in the past days, you may need to refresh me."

"It ain't, sir," Constin assures the Major at that last, speaking further only once the hatch is closed. Narrow blue eyes fix upon cidra's own reserved regard. "I've got a couple reports of one of your pilots making threats against military and civilian personnel aboard this boat. Made claims him and 'others' were watching certain folk who he judged was 'subversive'. Wanted to bring this to you, and get your take on how best to proceed."

"Sit, please." Cidra retakes her own chair, for her part, and puts out her cigarette. Gently. She can still smoke on that one later. Hands fold on it, blue eyes fixing on Constin. And narrowing at his words. "Threats?" The word is repeated flatly. "What manner of threats, Gunnery Sergeant? And which of my personnel?"

Constin nods once, sitting as instructed. "In regards to the military personnel it were plain intimidation. Suspicion of being a cylon, threat to kill soon as he's given any proof, that sort. Toward the civilian, the words were picked more careful. No direct threat of violence- which is why I ain't detained anybody yet. But the claim that the target and their 'cylon loving friends' were in for a rude awakening. This took place a few days before the incident of in-ship assault." 'In ship assault' being Elf's way of describing his own less than cordial meeting. Also claimed that him and his friends wouldnt wait for the law to work, before acting." As to which pilot, he states simply, "Lieutenant Ellinon, sir."

"Lieutenant Ellinon…" The name is repeated. Cidra's reaction is difficult to judge. A touch of surprise, though that's only allowed to show subtly. "Ah." She lights her cigarette again, not seeming to really notice she's done it. "In-ship assault?" That is repeated with a touch of puzzlement. "You are referring to the assaults against so-called 'Cylon-lovers' some months back? I recall there were a few. One of my own people, Lieutenant Sophronia, gods best her brave soul, was a target of some intimidation and vandalism. What specific incident are you referring to? Was Spiral…that is, Lieutenant Ellinon, involved in the physical altercation?"

"If he was, it weren't physically, sir," Elf answers the last query first. "But yes, sir. That 'cylon-lover' business that followed Lauren Coll getting shot." The marine's stoneface doesnt so much as slip. "Lieutenant Ellinon was recently identified as the individual who shook down a civilian several days after Lieutenant Sophronia's incident. One day before I was the target of an assault." A breath is drawn through the nose before Constin goes on. "I wanted your opinion as to how best Ellinon ought to be handled. Thought it best to give you the chance to handle this before anything further happens that would force me to get involved."

"Ah…" Cidra draws out the syllable, doing some more smoking before answering. "You say recently identified? I have two queries, Gunnery Sergeant. These incidents took place some months back. Why now? Also…" A pause, as if choosing her words carefully. "…Lieutenant Ellinon is not always the most likeable of souls. He is…mouthy, and oft too blunt for his own good. Abrasive would be an apt description. Are you certain these accusations are not the result of some…unrelated dispute between himself and the accuser? Emotions run most high on this ship where the issue of 'Cylon-lovers' are concerned."

"I say 'recently identified' because the civilian in question only recently put name to face, sir," Constin recounts. "As for the other incident, the subject did their best to protect the Lieutenant from difficulty, in spite of the threats, and on two occasions in the interview tried to downplay the incidents. Now me?" Elf drawls, raising one brow, "Death threats ain't something I'm liable to overlook. In the case of the civilian, they had never met the fella prior, and have no apparent connection to the Lieutenant. You can be assured, Major, I ain't bringing you anything that as Master-at-Arms, I don't consider actionable." Another drawn breath.

Cidra nods to that. "I am most sure you are not, Gunnery Sergeant. If you could give me the account of the incident as closely as it was given to you, please? I would not make any decision on this without full possession of an understanding of the matter. Was any physical violence done by my Lieutenant Ellinon? And have these threats been repeated in the months since?"

"As it's an open case, sir, I'll share as much as I am able," Constin answers the request with a dip of his head. "In regards to the civilian, Ellinon physically grabbed the civilian at one point, but nothing to the extent of assault. The words- Just a tick," he shifts his weight in the chair to bring out a small paper pad with his intact left hand, folding it around with motions of his thick calloused fingers to find the appropriate page. "He said, among other things.. that he'd 'come to give warning. We've got our eyes on you. You'd do best to remember that, because we haven't forgotten who the enemy is'. He went on to say.." with a bit of difficulty, the page is folded back around. "That 'innocent until proven guilty' was a 'frakking pile of bullshit', and that 'You Cylon sympathizers think the law will protect you, but it won't', and that the subject and their friends should 'watch their asses, or they'll end up like Coll'." With that he looks back up from the page, to regard the CAG evenly. "There've been no further threats reported, sir. At this point, I oughta advise you Major, if there are any more reports of Ellinon? I'm gonna step in."

Cidra listens to that, blue eyes widening then hardening, lips drawing into a slim frown. "Utter madness, the paranoia that threatens this ship. We shall all of us make enemies of each other…" Another puff on her cigarette, and another short nod. "I am grateful for the respect, and trust, you have shown in bringing this to me directly, Gunnery Sergeant. My preference is to handle disciplinary matters internally, save in cases where it cannot be avoided. I shall have to have words with his squadron leader, Captain Vakos, first and foremost on how to proceed with this. Are you and the captain acquainted?"

Constin nods once, folding the pad closed and tucking it away in one of the myriad pockets which dot the tan service trousers. A curt nod to the Major's stated preference. To his knowledge of the Air Wing's resident Canceron, he nods again, "I am, sir."

"Then you are aware of her quality as an office. I assure you, if it needs be said, she will take this matter most seriously. Are there any other facts you believe we should be in possession of before moving forth with this, Gunnery Sergeant?" Cidra asks, expression composed and cool now. She continues smoking a lot.

"I am, sir," Constin repeats simply to his knowledge of Khloe's quality. "That is all, Major. Thank you for the time." With that, the big man rises to his feet, and once again raises his right arm to offer as professional a salute as he is able.

Cidra rises as well, again returning the salute with an ease come from a decade and a half of making that motion. "My thanks to your service, Gunnery Sergeant. Dismissed at your pleasure." A pause, though, and she says, "Though wait a moment. There is a matter I have wanted to speak on you with at some time. You need not sit again, it shall not take but a moment."

"Sir," is Constin's answer to the dismissal, as he lowers his hand. The turn toward the hatch is paused as Cidra recalls something. Rather than repeat the most used word in his professional vocabulary, the big marine simply nods once and waits.

"It is entirely unrelated. I have been for some time meaning to improve my abilities in marksmanship, with a firearm," Cidra says. "I am told you make do of some instruction in that field. I would not take away from your duties, which I am sure are most pressing, but if you had the time to give me some…I believe the Standard phrase is 'pointers'?" She does not sound particularly sure of that. "In any case, I would be appreciative. If not, I am certain you can direct me to someone who is able and less pressed."

Constin nods curtly once. "That's precisely the sort of light duty assignment I can undertake, sir. I'm running a new recruit going through basic for the next four weeks. If the timetable line up on your end, I'll send the allotted range times to you. That way it takes no time outta my duties, and the range is already set aside."

Cidra offers Constin the barest hint of a smile. "I would most appreciate it, Gunnery Sergeant. If you do not think a…what is the term you Marines fancy? Airy fairy?" Tone slightly touched with humor. "That one shall corrupt your recruit, I shall make time for it as our schedules align."

"Airy Fairy, yeah," Elf returns, with a bullish exhale through the nose punctuating his crooked half-grin. "And don't you worry none, sir. If you can outshoot my recruit? That's all the leverage I'll ever need to make damned sure she works twice as hard at getting good with a gun." Ah, drill sergeantry. Is there any dirty trick you are above? "Until then, Major."

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