Just The Facts, Part 1 |
Summary: | With the Cerberus finally under way, Daniel is able to start his fact finding in earnest, his first meeting being with the ship's XO, Alec Sarkis. |
Date: | 2/16/41 |
Related Logs: | None |
Players: |
![]() ![]() |
Executive Officer's Quarters -
A decent-sized room for a personal quarters, the XO's cabin has few of the plush amenities of the Admiral's but still retains a few more touches than would normally be found elsewhere. There are bookshelves that are stacked neatly beside a line of lockers. The standard-sized bunk is built into the wall with a few cabinets overhead for storage. The desk is a standard issue piece of furniture and so is the chair that comes with it, but there is a plain blue couch against the wall near the door and a respectably-sized blue rug lain out in front of it. This room also has a personal bathroom that holds a cramped shower, toilet, and sink area that is separated by a thin wooden door painted to the same color as the walls.
Sarkis is pulling on a clean jacket when the marine outside lets the civilian into his quarters. Buttoning up the flaps, he glances over and makes a nod to a chair that is sitting in front of his desk. "There is coffee if you drink it, Mr. Petroski," he mentions as he moves behind his desk and motions to the side table with coffee and cups.
Petroski shakes his head and smiles. "I do but I had hoped we could lighten the severity of the meeting with something else a bit more…potent," he answers while crouching down, his bag placed just before his right knee. Pulled from it is a fresh bottle of Ambrosia, the seal of which is untouched, it being the bottle he had brought with him before knowing of the ship-wide ban on drinking. "Assuming we can do so, of course. If the ban is still in effect, though, coffee will be fine."
"I appreciate the thought. A bit of Ambrosia is good for the soul, so my grandmother used to tell me," Sarkis finally takes a seat. "As this is a meeting and due to the civilian authorities on board, I can make an exception. I just want my crew at the best and not suffering from hangovers during all this."
"I had a feeling you might feel that way." Not having the foresight to bring glasses with him means Daniel has to improvise, doing so in the form of getting whatever drinking vessels are at hand. "I do understand the need for having to keep your men under control, sir. And you've done a wonderful job of it along with everything else. Winnie will be very impressed." He joins Sarkis and holds out one of the glasses, offering it to the Colonel along with another smile.
"Ah, Winnie," Sarkis responds without a hint of a smile. He takes the glass that was found and added with Ambrosia. "You must have impressed .." he almost said, 'that ol' biddy', but remembered himself after a moment by covering it up with a drink. "Excellent vintage. Anyway, as I was saying, you must have impressed her in order to be her eyes and ears until she arrived."
Petroski raises a brow and then chuckles, the lack of expression from Alec caught. "You are free to say what it is you will, Mister Sarkis. Anything of a non-business related nature will stay between us." The green liquor is regarded for a moment and then he too takes a drink, that first sip concluded by a soft sigh of appreciation. "I'd like to extend our appreciation for the hospitality that's been extended to us. I realize that this is not what you or your crew is used to and I do promise to keep everything as painless as I possibly can."
Sarkis sets his drink down and does manage something that might be a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I'll pass that onto the Skipper, he keeps a rein on his ship that I have to admire." He nods then, rather slowly, "Painless as possible will work for some, but not for all. Especially with the reporters." He leans forward now and crosses his fingers together, "What did you want to speak to me about?"
Danny can't help but to wince slightly, the mention of the press being a bit of a sticking point with him. "Unfortunately the press is outside of my scope of…power, for a lack of a better way to put it, but I'll try to make sure that goes smoothly as well, if I can." Leaning over, he removes a small pad of paper from his bag along with a pan, both items set on his knee for now until he has to start taking notes. "I'm in need of discussing this…project, Colonel. As you and I both know, building and operating a military vessel of this size and nature is costly and there's some concern as to if the Colonial taxpayers' money's being wasted, necessitating in my being here." The glass is set aside now and his pen is uncapped, Petroski preparing to take notes.
Someone should have told the higher ups not to leave Sarkis in charge of 'making nice with taxpayers'. But, no one did, so here he is. Alec simply offers a smile, with teeth this time, "Forty years is a long time and we tend to forget how we were taken by surprise and our very own abilities turned against us. But then, we were ready to lay out any price to have actual robotic slaves making our jobs easier, so we could go play golf." He sits back then, "What is the price of one life? I counter that question of money wasted, with my own."
Petroski nods, slow to smile himself now as that fact is brought up; it is a fair question, of course, but it does absolutely -nothing- to make his job any easier. "It does make one wonder if we have indeed forgotten but I doubt that's the case, Colonel. All people are asking for is some form of reassurance that the cubits they work hard to earn are not going to be thrown to the winds in the form of government waste." Applying the tip of his pen to the paper the pad is now opened to, he starts to write down a few odd phrases and words, those combined in a form of shorthand that only he can decipher. "It really is an unfortunate by-product of shady business dealings and government people being dishonest in the past. All we are wanting to do is prove to the citizens that this is not the case now."
"I can assure you on that part, Mr. Petroski, if nothing else the shaved what they could. As far as anything that has come across my desk, nothing was wasted from what we were given. I think we even had a few cubits left over in case there was some emergency along the way after these games." Sarkis lets out a long breath, "I think we will prove ourselves to be quite capable of what we intend to do once these games are tallied and over with. I mean after all, the Galactica is going to be take out of the equation and placed in some museum. We need a replacement of better capabilities," his hand goes up to indicate the ship, "And this is it."
"Of course. I will need a copy of the cost reports and all that rigmarole. Another formality, I am afraid." Daniel's writing pauses so he can take a sip of his drink, the halting also allowing for him to look the XO in the eye. "I dislike having to put up hoops for you and your people to jump through, Alec," he adds with a faintly-sympathetic twinge to his voice. "Brass tacks. How I loath them." His scribbling resumes, his glass shifted to his off-hand so he can do both at once if the desire to do so hits.
Sarkis reaches into his desk and brings out a sheet of paper. He begins filling out a few lines on the requisition order and then signs the bottom part. "Just take this to Support and they will see that you get copies that you need. We are here to make sure you have what we have. It should clear up any questions that may be hanging around." Replacing his pen, he slides the paper across the desk.
Petroski nods but doesn't reach for the form just yet, the sheet of paper allowed to remain untouched by his own hand for a bit longer. "Of course. And if you have any concerns, I'd love to address them now so I can present them to Delegate Winston when she arrives. Two birds, one stone." The clip of the pen's cap is hooked through the spiral binding of the small book and now the request form is taken, it given a quick look to make sure everything is in order before he puts it away. "Thank you."
"I have no concerns at this time. The ship is open for the delegates and the rest of the QUODEL. The marines are doubling their security and everyone is working extra hard to make sure their needs are seen too. I'd just ask that no one start some riot on board, because someone didn't get the right pillowcase." Sarkis responds and reaches for the last bit of the ambrosia left in his glass.
Petroski's smile warms and he finally relaxes, the way everything has gone putting him at ease. "The only time I'd incite a riot is if we were told that smoking is no longer allowed," he teases. "But seriously, I think everything will be alright. I should let you get back to work, however. I got to check a few items in with the Marines and then got to make sure my young charge is feeling better. Poor kid took sick right after arriving here. I think the excitement got to him."
"Sick, eh? That's too bad, hopefully he'll be doing better soon." Sarkis sets the glass aside and rises up, "I appreciate your coming by, Mr. Petroski. I can see why Mrs. Winston chose you now. You are prepared and good at ass kissing." The last part has a small lilt of a smile.
Daniel stands slowly, groaning a bit while also chuckling under his breath, the former sound given as a result of his knees creaking. "Winnie always said that it was the talent and ease in which I apply lips to glutes that was what inspired her to hire me along with knowing when it should be a shoe that's applied to said ass instead." Reaching out, he taps a finger to the top of the Ambrosia bottle before adding, "Consider this a gift from Delegate Winston along with myself Colonel. Our way of thanking you for your cooperation with the Quorum," his head bowing in respect.
Sarkis has to smile in response, he also reaches a hand out to the man, "I appreciate the offer and I'll pass some onto my officers to help them through their own small headaches."
The gesture is completed, Daniel shaking hands with Alec easily, the gesture one he has done many times in his life, making him very well-practiced. "I'm sure they'll appreciate it, sir. I'll get in touch with you soon. And thank you again." His bag is picked up off of the floor and slung over a shoulder while the hatch is approached and breeched on his way out.