| Into the CAG Lair |
| Summary: | Bannik knocks on Cidra's door with a research-related request. No Crewman were harmed in the making of this log. |
| Date: | 02 May 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Think Like a Machine; various other Heavy Raider research logs |
| Players: |
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| Naval Offices - Deck 10 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| This area is set-up much like any standard office building. Cubicles have been constructed using cheap waist-high walls, their contents left neutral for whoever needs to use them. Inside each cubicle is a desk with a laptop and chair. Simple overhead lights bring dull illumination to the room except over the back wall where each one of the colonies twelve flags hangs from its own pole. Fake, potted plants dot the room and seem to be standard issue along with the water cooler and coffee machines. Off the main room are a few private offices such as that of the JAG or CAG. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #64 |
Cidra is ensconced back the small space that's set aside for the CAG's 'office.' It's only a little bigger than the cubicles outside, but it at least has a hatchway that's capable of locking. It's slightly ajar at the moment, however. As it tends to be when Cidra is in and not meeting with someone. She sits at her desk, smoking a cigarette as she reads over the daily reports.
Cidra's Desc
Cidra Hahn is a woman on the upper end of her thirties in age. She's approaching forty with a modicum of grace, though the tiny lines around the corners of her eyes and mouth have deepened with this hard year. Her build is tall, just a couple inches short of six feet, lean and slim with lanky long arms and legs. Despite her angular form, there's an easy flowing quality about her movements that keeps her from seeming gawky. She has naturally fair skin, an oval-shaped face with fine-boned features and blue-gray eyes. There's an even, composed quality about her gaze most of the time that gives her manner a certain steadiness, though little of what she might be thinking or feeling at a given moment touches the surface of those cloudy eyes. Her hair is a ruddy shade of brown, still (mostly) free of gray strands. When down it hangs in straight strands to her shoulders, though she usually wears it pinned back in a bun when on duty. Her rich alto voice retains traces of an accent common to Gemenon.
Cidra is dressed in a Colonial officer's uniform. The medium blue jacket is tucked into matching trousers, with a black, brass-buckled belt around the waist. A softer, darker blue fabric decorates the shoulders. The black buttons are off-center, running up the right hand side of the tunic. The left breast sports a single button-down pocket, above which are her flight qualification wings. On her left sleeve is the black, gold and white Battlestar Cerberus patch. The pins on her collar show a rank of Major.
Bannik makes his way into the Naval Offices, clutching his octagonal clipboard tightly. He approaches the door of the CAG's office, knocking lightly. "Major?" calls the deck hand. "It's Crewman Bannik from the Deck."
Bannik's Desc
Tall, lanky, nerd. That sums up the late-teen Caucasian male pretty well. Standing at five-eleven, and probably one hundred and forty something pounds, his medium brown hair is shot through with some of the golden tinge that comes from being out in the sun on a regular basis. His hair is cut in that short, buzzed style that epitomizes the Colonial Fleet. His bright blue eyes are hidden behind glasses with black plastic and metal frames. His cheeks are soft and smooth, a combination of being young enough to look like he hasn't necessarily started shaving with the clean shave drummed into one from basic training. His frame is lean and lanky, with somewhat gangly arms and legs that makes him look like he's still growing into his body. All in all, his body says one thing: Nerd.
Bannik is dressed in Colonial Fleet fatigues. The olive green shirt is tucked into matching trousers, with a subdued black web belt around the waist. The trousers are in turn bloused into black combat boots. A softer, lighter green fabric decorates the shoulders of the shirt, and the buttons up the center are hidden by a flap. Black quick clips, rather than buttons, secure two large pockets on the front of the shirt. On his left sleeve is the black, gold and white Battlestar Cerberus patch. The pins on his collar show a rank of Crewman.
Cidra sets her cigarette in her ashtray, rising fluidly. "Crewman Bannik. Yes, of course. Come in, please. What is, as they say, up?"
Bannik comes to at ease sort of position before the CAG, but with clipboard still in hand. "Lieutenant Kulko in the CIC asked me to take a look into a potential project for combating Centurions; a squad-portable ECM device. As part of our initial resource, we want to see if ECM effects Centurions as it does ships. So I was wondering if I might borrow an ECO for a consult, ask about the sort of frequencies that have worked best."
"Of course, Crewman," Cidra replies, sitting again. Legs crossed, posture straight. "I have told Chief Atreus before a fair few times and I tell you now. If any of my people can be of assistance on your research, I place them at your disposal. We shall work around their regular duties. Have you any officer in mind particular for this endeavor?"
"I was thinking maybe Lieutenant Cortez? Kahuna, that is, Major? Bootstrap is really involved with the Heavy Raider project, but Kahuna has shown some interest in doing research. I thought he might be able to lend a hand." Bannik fidgets with his clipboard ever-so-slightly.
"I can't speak much for Lieutenant Cortez's technical expertise but he's one of the strongest officers I have when it comes to ECM deployment," Cidra says. "If your technicians will be there to generally supervise his work he could likely be of good help. I shall get a communique to him and his squad leaders and task him promptly. You and yours can brief him on his duties at your convenience."
"Well. Uh. Of course, sir. Will do." Bannik nods; that sounded a lot more impressive than when he was asking about it. "I'll let him know when I see him next. Thank you, sir." A pause. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Not at present, Crewman. I do hope me and mine can be of some help," Cidra says, standing as he prepares to go. "Also. I have many times told the Chief and I tell you again now. You and yours have the great thanks of me and mine for your prompt and skilled work on the birds. I know things are very difficult now and shall likely continue to be so until fabrication is back online."
"Even when fabrication is back on line, Major, we don't have a whole lot of raw material to work with to fabricate. But thank you, sir. I appreciate. Know a lot of the rest of us do, too." Bannik offers up a tight smile. "We just need to hope we don't lose too many more birds from here on out."
"That is the hope of us all," Cidra says. "I would not lose another bird or another man if I had a choice in the matter. We live in times of only poor choices, however. Well, Command seems to be keeping us quiet for now. There is at least that. Unless there is anything further, Crewman, you are dismisssed. Clear eyes and steady down there."
"Yes, sir." Bannik can't argue with that. "Thank you, sir." The deckie comes to a crisp attention and then turns on his heel to depart. Meeting with the CAG: Survived.