PHD #208: No Politician
No Politician
Summary: The civilians should have a representative, but neither Rose nor Madilyn is a politician.
Date: 22 Sep 2041 AE
Related Logs: Hydroponics stuff, of course
Rose Madilyn 
Hangar Deck - Starboard - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus
This Hangar Bay is filled with boxes, crates and other various supplies that are needed throughout the ship. Most have been moved to one end and lashed with tarps to keep them out of the way. The place has gone from extra ship storage on one end and the ability to house over 450 people on the other end. Whatever could be made into cots has been set up like a huge barracks. Some areas have been made more presentable with a few items that belong to the person holding onto their small area in this world. Marines guard this area 24/7 and food is brought in cafeteria style, feeding people out of vats and buckets as they line up with their plates. One area has been tarped off to the side, that holds canvas showers and sinks. The 'Head' in this area has to be cleaned daily since it is a temporary military bathroom setup, due to there is no way to flush it out through pipes.
Post-Holocaust Day: #208

Based on recent events, the starboard hangar is no longer populated by one organic mass of survivors. Instead, there seems to be a polarizing effect going on, with some folks choosing one end of the hangar in favor of the other. One might expect to find Sagittarans and other malcontent folk clustered together so that they can keep each other warm with their rabble-rabble and grousing.

At the other end, perhaps smaller in number, is a growing minority of individuals prescribing to the notion of 'support our troops' — or, at the very least, gathering under the premise of 'do not lash out at the people that give you oxygen'. Miss Ibbhanas, naturally, is among them. Tonight, she's sitting on what looks like an empty wooden crate, feet dangling a half meter off the ground, with her hands folded in her lap. Several folk, her age, are seated or standing nearby to her.

"I can't tell you what the Scrolls of Poseidon say, because I can't read them," says Rose with a smile, illiciting a few chuckles from her friends. "And I'm not a priest. But if you find a set, we can read them together, and come to our own conclusions." Apparently she's found a small group of others who invoke the Sea God regularly.

"I'm afraid the Colonial fleet doesn't make it a habit to regularly include Braille copies of religious texts in the ship's libraries," comes another voice into the chatter of the smaller group. To Rose, the voice would probably be somewhat familiar, but the others may not be as familiar with the woman's appearance. Not only are they unlikely to have seen her very often, but at the moment, she's not wearing a duty uniform of any sort: only the fleet offduty threads and dogtags would denote her as military at all. And at this point, with some civilians wearing the offduty threads, they aren't even a good indicator anymore.

"Major Cavanaugh!" Comes Rose's squee at the sound of the Major's voice. She makes a gesture with her hands, a sort of 'come to' — but it's of course not for Madilyn. Two of the taller individuals in the group step forward to help her down from the crate, and one presses her folded whitestick into her left hand. "Everyone, this is Major Cavanaugh. She's been very kind to me since I came here, and I think someone sympathetic to our condition, here. Please, Major, join us!"

"I'm afraid that I'm not as religious as your group would appear, Miss. Ibbhanas," replies Madilyn, though she doesn't let that deter her. For the first time in a long time, she's seen both off-duty and without her sidearm. Given the situation down here at the moment, coming down in uniform with a weapon may not exactly be the best thing. On her way over, she flips the single ponytail of blonde hair down her back, back to center, along her spine.

Rose moves towards Madilyn, not unfolding her whitestick, simply moving by the sound and proximity of her voice. "Oh, we won't hold that against you, Major," she says with an impish grin. "Really, we were just finishing up our first meeting. It's just a small prayer circle. And besides, just because I'm currently blind doesn't mean I can even *read* Braille. And I'm not planning on staying this way forever."

Madilyn pushes her lips together and nods at that. Right. Temporarily and recently blinded, not a lifelong thing. "Right. For some reason I had thought you were blind well before this. I apologize. There have been a number of…somewhat-related incidents on my mind, of late." Though Rose is unlikey to see it, Madilyn cocks her head toward the other group of civilians. "One of those developing stories is why I've come down here."

"Well, if there's anything I can do to help, I'm at your disposal," she says to the taller blonde woman. Rose glances over her shoulder — it's more of a half-turn, eyes in the general direction of her friends. "I'll talk to you tomorrow night, everyone - and see if you can't find someone with scrolls you can borrow. Even if it's not Poseidon's." And that's that. The group disperses. Holding the ends of her folded whitestick in both hands, letting it rest down her thighs, Rose smiles to Madilyn.

"Pertaining to our recent discussions…the CAG and deck chief have both agreed to locate potential freighters on the surface of Aerilon, and to make the most suitable candidate spaceworthy. Of course, this is all a thought exercise at the moment, as the recon Raptors have to first find candidate freighters. After that, we need to put together a packet of information about this plan for the command crew to look over. I don't foresee it failing, however." Some good news for the civilian and her group. In the nearish future, a lot of this civilian unrest may be solved by giving them a ship mostly to themselves and a job to do.

Rose's hands come together as they clutch the folded whitestick to her body, a widening smile on her face. If clouded eyes could twinkle… "Oh, Major, that's fantastic news! Um, I suppose I should sit down with someone from your team and crunch some math, hmm? We're going to need to look at our available options. Based on materials we can easily obtain or create, we can then design our systems based on those criteria. Oh, this is so exciting!" She bounces a little on the balls of her feet.

"I don't know if you've met Lieutenant Lunair, but, if you have not you likely should. Together with a pilot, they've been operating a very small-scale hydroponics bay here. I investigated several days ago, and the concept seems sound for growing traditional crops. Whethever it can be applied to algae, I've no idea. At this point, however, it seems to be a matter of scale up…and finding enough excess material - on the planet likely - to construct ample growing space. The Saggitaran popularion will require a slightly different approach, as I've been told they'll require earth and traditional potted planting methods." An expert on customs, Madilyn is not. An expert on scale up via dimensionless numbers, she could pretend to be!

Rose furrows her brow, eyes downcast and flitting from side to side as if she were looking up information inside her mind. "Maintaining a soil-based crop in space is significantly more difficult, although I'm sure I could come up with something. Yes, of course I know the Lieutenant! I think she approached me first on the issue. Although it's been a blur since I came aboard."

"Ah, that makes sense. I apologize if I'm going in circles here, trying to keep everyone apprised of this information. As I've said, there have been significant developments aboard that are demanding most of my attention." Rose might remember that a particular captain was stabbed to death down here on deck. That's kind of a big security issue.

After a moment of semi-awkward silence, observing the group of Saggitaron refugees, she turns back to the scientist. "How have you been, Ms. Ibbhanas?" the marine asks her. It's a rare compassionate moment from the woman who, to this point, has been all business.

Rose shrugs a shoulder lightly. "I've been as best as been expected. The doctors take about a pint of blood every other day, it seems," she says with a lopsided grin. "You know, trying to determine which bits aren't working any more, and which aren't working well. They've got me on these awful-tasting iron supplements because I'm anemic *and* they take so much blood for testing. But I'm glad to be in such good hands." She tilts her head slightly, as if taking extra care to hear Madilyn's response to: "And yourself? Last time I heard from you, you seemed rather… tense."

"Such is life when you are, directly or indirectly, responsible for the safety of everyone on this ship. I've got a rear admiral in my brig, violence and harassment of crew rumored to be Cylon-lovers, and a whole political situation brewing down here. You seem to know about the last item first hand. A lot of things I can't do a single thing to fix are coming back to the front of my thoughts as well." Cue the latest entry in her journal, but…nobody knows about that.

Rose nods slowly. "I think, maybe, Major? If it's not too forward for me to ask," she begins, left foot scuffing the floor a little. "I think some of the 'political problem', as you are describing it, is coming from the perception that anyone currently living down here is an animal. A second-class citizen. I understand that's not so, and I know several of us who understand that as well." She bites her lower lip. "I'm rambling. I guess what I'm trying to say is, maybe if there were more avenues of communication? We could work on getting someone to regularly bring concerns to the military side of things, and that person can in turn bring back information from the military…?" She seems uncertain.

"What you're suggesting is an appointed civilian representative? Someone with some official capacity to collect and bring concerns from the deck to fleet command? That idea is intriguing, of course. Perfectly in keeping in line with democratic beliefs. Do you think there's someone here willing to take on that mantle officially?" Hopefully, someone sane and capable of interacting with both little 'factions' down here.

Rose shrugs a shoulder again. "I'm not sure. Mrs. Hammond, certainly, although I'm not sure she's willing to. I mean, I can't speak for her. And naturally anyone who is appointed would have to come from the will of the people. Democratic. Plus, that'll make the Sagittarans happy." Naturally, she's too humble to nominate herself.

"Do you think you've enough 'pull' here amongst these people to start an election? To collect nominations and elect a representative in a strict democratic election?" This could go a long way to bridging the gap between the civilians and the military, having a conduit to speak directly to someone of rank. It could also bring the Saggies back in the fold by making them feel part of something. "I'm no politician, and I'm not sure if this is even allowed, but you could certainly come to me with problems. There are always MPs on deck, and they have a direct line to the sechub, and thus to me."

"Me?" Rose squeaks, shaking her head. "Oh, no. No no. I'm no politician. I'd just be representing the common good of everyone here. I'm not interested in playing rhetoric games or anything like that," she confesses. "It might be best if we *do* find someone who's interested in that sort of thing." Pause, and a small smile. "But I wouldn't mind seeing you more often, Major. So I'll definitely see what I can do."

"I wasn't suggesting that you need to take the job for yourself, merely…to use your group to help find a suitable candidate. I meant that the representative could speak to me, if nobody else, given that the MPs have a semi-direct line - rather than bothering the CAG, ship's XO or otherwise." Seems fitting, just a little, since the marines are sort of directly responsible for their safety. "I'll just leave it at that. If you can find a representative, please, let me know. When we get more information about potential freighters, I'll tell you as much as I can, but until the plan is approved completely, you'll need to keep that information to yourself."

Rose nods enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, of course, Major! I'll make sure to keep it under wraps. Mum's the word. And you'll find that the people on this end of the hangar are very eager to do whatever we can to make things easier. Or, well, hopefully prevent anything like what happened a few days ago." Her smile and exuberance flees as she asks, "Did… Captain Sitka have any family aboard? A few here have been wanting to express… condolences."

"A lover of sorts, but that's just ship's scuttlebutt. I've no idea whether that's true or not, but his record doesn't indicate any family aboard." What goes unmentioned is that any family he had - any family that anyone had - is likely lost to the Cylon attacks. Madilyn is no exception. "Think about that idea, however. If you make progress, please let an MP know, mention me by name, and I'm sure they can contact the sechub."

"Sechub," Rose repeats, clearly not one who knows military abbreviations. "I'm going to guess that means 'security hub'?" She nods quickly. "Yes'm. I'll do that. I promise not to abuse it; plus, I don't want folks seeing anyone coming and going with more frequency than anyone else. I don't want the impression of favoritism."

"Yes, that's exactly it. Security hub, sorry. Habit of talking to strictly military types the last few months, I'm afraid." Madilyn gives a wan smile, and idly flips her ponytail once more. "In the interest of not playing favorites, I'm going to excuse myself. If in time you can rally the civilians, as it were, to select a representative, I'd be happy to hear their views. For now, however, I wish you the best of luck."

Rose tries to contain a broad smile; lips purse and she manages to not absolutely gush over Madilyn. "Thank you for visiting, Major. You know you're always welcome down here, even if your duties prevent you." And, perhaps out of the Major's earshot when she turns to depart, Rose in her small voice murmurs, "You're my hero."

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