| Personnel Logic |
| Summary: | The Viper squadrons' powers are combined. |
| Date: | 22 Jul 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Bye Bye Birdie - Air Wing; and pretty much anything before it where pilots are shredded. |
| Players: |
   |
| Naval Offices - Deck 10 - Battlestar Cerberus |
|---|
| 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: #146 |
The hatch the the CAG's small bit of office space is ajar. As it generally is when Cidra is actually in there. And there she be. Sitting at her desk and smoking, as she is wont to be. She's arranged to meet with her pair of SLs. Though it's still a few minutes before the appointed time. A rather haphazard pile of octagonal papers and files are laid out on her desk, one fingertip of her free hand skimming under certain lines as she reviews them.
Having been steadily flying the graveyard CAP for some time now, this is likely in the midst of Shiv's normal downtime. He arrives, thus, in his offduties; jacket unbuttoned, BDUs hastily tucked into his combat boots. And takes a steadying breath before pushing the hatch open the remainder of the way. "Sir." He clears his throat lightly, glances over his shoulder, and looks back to the woman seated behind the desk full of paperwork. "You, uh. You wanted to see me."
There's a soft rapt of knuckle against metal when Alessandra arrives, a brief announcing of her being here before she pushes the hatch open; once inside the office she closes the hatch almost all the way before turning around and giving the Major a crisp salute. She darts a quick look to the Captain and quirks a brief smile, that being at how he is in all sorts of disaray. "Looking good, Captain," she whispers toward him, unable not to tease him.
"Captain Sitka. Lieutenant Sophronia. I do thank you for being prompt. Come in." Cidra stands, gets the returning of salutes out of the way, and is then back down as quickly as she came. "Sit, please." There are chairs available for them to pull up. A wry look is directed at Sitka and his choice of dress. No comment, mind. She just looks. "I shall not keep either of you long. Best we settle this soon. I am sure I do not have to tell either of you that we have suffered heavy casualties. Not just in the recent flight from Audumbla Anchorage." Eyes briefly go down to her desk. Not just, perhaps, but that's obviously heavy on her mind. "Our numbers have thinned since Warday, in that and Leonis and all that came before."
The Captain's own salute goes up a little late, but he does try. Allie gets a little slantwise flick of blue eyes when she makes her quip, though nothing more than a twitch of his lips is forthcoming in reply. To say that he seems a tad discomfited is putting it mildly. Maybe he didn't realise this was a dress-up sort of meeting. Quiet while the CAG speaks, he offers Alessandra the nearer chair, and claims the one by the wall. Chivalry from a Saggie? Stranger things have happened.
"Thank you, sir," Alessandra says once she's seated, it being given to both the Major, who gave them permission to sit in the first place, and to the Petrels' lead for his being so gentlemanly. "That they have, sir," she says to Cidra then, nodding slowly. Their losses have been great indeed and has impacted everyone within the wing, not just those who fly Vipers but the Raptor people as well.
Cidra works her cigarette while the pair of them get settled. Though she's good enough manners not to blow it straight at either of them. If the lack of formality, or spit-and-polish, from Sitka bothers her at all it's not apparent. Save for the continually wry way she regards him as her eyes tick up again. A drag is exhaled and she clears her throat. "We cannot sustain our squadrons as they exist now, given the losses we have taken. My aim is to have the Petrels folded into the Black Knights. I am not so versed as either of you in the intricacies of Viper flight, so I cannot say how awkward it shall be having pilots trained primarily on the Twos fly with those more accustomed to the Mark Sevens. But I do not deem it such a great obstacle as all that."
Sitka, for his part, doesn't comment upon the 'losses'. There's a flicker of tension in his shoulders, but little else to telegraph the fact that he heard what was said. When mention of folding the Petrels into the Knights is made, however, his eyes come up sharply and a little of that lethargy is shed. "Beg your pardon, sir?"
Alessandra's equally surprised, Sitka asking for Cidra's pardon followed quickly by her blurting out, "Excuse me, sir?" It isn't the beginning of an argument from Allie but rather a request for clarification from the CAG, the need to have this explained to her necessitating it.
"We simply do not have the manpower now to maintain either of them as separate entities. Particularly with the number of casualties the Petrels have taken," Cidra replies. Rather starkly, though her eyes do flick to Sitka for a beat. There's an air of 'I'm sorry' about her manner. Though of course she can't say that. She idly taps some ash off the tip of her cigarette in her little glass tray. "Your people have flown together passing well since the attacks. It shall ease organization of the patrol schedule and cohesion within the Wing. It seems the only logical way to proceed at this juncture, given how we stand."
The Captain, then, lapses into a half-stunned silence as Cidra finishes elucidating in that blindingly even-keeled way of hers. It may be something they have in common, generally speaking, but Shiv's looking a little shaken at the moment; it's subtle, but it's there. "I, uh…" He lowers his head to scratch at the bridge of his nose, lips twitching into an uncomfortable smile. "You know.." He chuckles. "The base commander kept telling me they were going to shut us down. Budget cuts, airframes getting old.. I just told him we'd keep flying until then. You know? Told him my pilots loved what they did, and they'd just keep flying till they couldn't."
There's not much she can say, herself, the bomb Cidra had dropped on them both rendering her pretty darn speechless. It's only Shiv's voice that gets her out of her head and, with an abrupt upward, jerky nod, she gives him a grin as well as a pat on his arm. "Looks like you'll be able to keep flying, sir." There's another question that's sitting on Allie's lips but she can't bring herself to ask it. instead looking to the Major. Maybe Toast will be able to read her mind and know what it is she wants to know.
Cidra's fingers continue to softly tap-tap-tap her cigarette against her tray long after she's relieved it of any excess ash. She offers Sitka the barest hint of a smile. It's a rueful sort of thing. "That is what we all were, is it not? Warriors on the front lines to maintain the budgetary capacity of the Colonial Military. That was the whole point of that little exercise in Uram after we launched. Justifying our existence. We did to, did we not?" The smile is to the both of them now, rather wistful. "We flew so passing well as to dazzle the bean-counters. Gods, that seems a thousand years ago, does it not?" She clears her throat. Well, enough about that. "Captain, as the ranking officer, leadership of the squadron should fall to you." It is said in that same plodding forward, even-keeled way. A simple matter of personnel logic. Though, given recent events, it may come as something of a surprise.
Sitka's own expression hinges upon wistfulness, just for a second, when Cidra looks over. He of course is watching her cheek, and then her hands once she turns away again. Those last words certainly come as a surprise; a not entirely pleasant one, by the look on his face. "Sir, I'm not sure I'm.." Qualified? Spit-shone to specifications?
It makes sense. Perfectly sound logic. Even then, it really hurts to lose the same position she was given not that long ago. It takes her a moment but a brave face is eventually put on and Allie manages to smile when she responds. "That is more than understandable, Major. He's the best man for the job, in my opinion. Natural leader." When Sitka protests she turns and regards him, her brow dipping with concern. "You're not sure what, Ibrahim," she asks quietly, military protocol be frakked. She's not talking to a superior officer now. She's talking to her friend.
"You seem to have the respect of the pilots in the Wing. They will follow you without much trouble, I do think," Cidra replies. Regarding him. "And y ou have shown good judgment in the cockpit. Those are the main. If you think yourself up for it, Captain. I have weighed this carefully, I assure you." Brief pause to drag again. "If there is anything in specific I should be aware of that would suggest otherwise, now is the time to say it." Eyes go to Alessandra then, though she does wait for an actual answer from the Sagittaron before plowing forward further.
Alessandra's vote of confidence actually prompts a faint smile from the Captain, though there's clearly something on his mind beyond mere self-doubt. "I'll.. I'd like to speak with you about it in private, sir, if you don't mind," he tells Cidra evenly. And then, clearing his throat quietly, "I'd be honoured to lead the Black Knights." His chin comes up just a fraction. "And if I may say so, I think you made the right decision leaving them in Allie's hands, after we lost Lasher. She's done a bang-up job, given what she's had to work with, sir." The sentiment seems to come from the heart; it doesn't ring of lip service.
Lucky had been fighting tears since Cidra made her announcement but now, between how Toast is looking at her and with Shiv's kind wordss, they start to get the better of her. "It's been an honor to serve the Knights, sirs. Thank you both for allowing me it." That said, she looks over to Shiv and she chuckles, the back of her hand coming up to swab hurriedly at her face which is now frakking wet. "If you'd like, we can spend some time in the sims together."
Cidra puts her cigarette down, reaching across her desk in an attempt to clasp Alessandra's free hand. For a creature of such outer reserve, she's surprisingly not averse to being touchy on occasion. "Lucky. Do not take this as a slight, or as a sign of a lack of confidence in you. You have served me surpassing well. Better, if you want the truth of it, than I had expected after we lost Lasher. You know, I had considered you for it back at Uram. It was down to you and him after Captain Abbascia became…occupied with other things." Oh, Kefir. And those vague 'other things' she's theoretically got him off doing while she puts basically everybody but him in charge of his former squadron. "It fell to Laskaris because I thought…he was a warrior, and I felt he was capable of doing things that I…" Eyes fall from Alessandra's, to her desk. She does not finish that thought. Throat is cleared. "This has not been for nothing on your part, Lucky. You have proven yourself much grown through this, and I know it has not been easy. The pilots under you have, I think, gained a trust in you. We are stronger for that."
"Actually," Shiv explains, blue eyes ticking across to Alessandra, "I was hoping you might be able to help me brush up on the mark sevens. It's been years since I did much of anything with them." He's quiet then, of course, to allow Cidra to speak. Perhaps a niggling self-doubt somewhere hidden in that bulky, slouched frame of his. Hard to say, really. He watches the Lieutenant quietly though, throughout the CAG's speech.
The Major is being nice which really helping a lot, the tears now gone, the only thing left to remind of there having ever being any being a few silvery streaks which Allie ignores. "I know, Major. Truly. It…it's just a big change. And a surprise. I'm fine, really." And she is if that smile is any indication. It's too bright to be faked. Clearing her throat, she considers Shiv and nods, the smile broadening even more. "You got it. Name when and all that and I'll be there with bells on."
Cidra clasps Alessandra's hand firmly once before releasing her. "Very good. See to your people. There shall be a period of adjustment, I am quite sure. But, we have flown together long enough I doubt it shall be too painful. Do see they are not overly distracted in the day to come. As you have no doubt heard, Command is planning to launch an operation on a Cylon target over Sagittaron." The slightest of side looks to Shiv. "We shall all of us need our focus sharp for it."
Alessandra's smile is tentatively returned by the Captain, who goes so far as to rise slightly from his chair, and offer his own hand in respect. It's the very same hand that so threw Kefir after the conclusion of their first wargame. "Don't, uh, don't think I won't be asking for your help with the squadron, Allie. You know how they fly better than I do." Mention of an operation, and one over Sagittaron of all places, draws his attention sharply back to Cidra however. He might've caught that glance, or he might not. "Anything you can tell us about it, sir?"
Shiv's hand is found by Allie, it given a firm shake after she too rises, his manners mirrored almost perfectly by the younger pilot. "All you need to do is ask." His hand is released and she sits back down, staying put. She's beaten to the punch when it comes to asking more details so she listens instead of playing parrot to Shiv, Alessandra now awaiting Cidra's answer.
"Intelligence believes there is a Cylon research facility in high orbit there," Cidra replies. "Something dedicated to…biological warfare in some regard. We do know the enemy has an interest in such things. Command captured the…abomination currently held on this ship in a facility which had its aim at such research." Lips curl around the word 'abomination' with absolute coldness. Hatred beyond how she even speaks of the Raiders they face. Another small nod to Sitka. "And you and yours on Leonis did witness their foul experiments some for yourselves, if I do recall correct."
Oddly enough, there's no malice mirrored in the Captain's eyes, when the 'abomination' is spoken of. Something closer to pity, perhaps, though it's fleeting. He nods slightly to the last thing said and re-seats himself with a tiny twitch of a smile for Allie. "Looking forward to seeing the mission detail then, sir," he tells Cidra. No hint as to how he might be feeling about this homecoming of sorts.
Alessandra's eyes widen at the announcement and she shakes her head, lost. "If this is what I think it is, I had talked to the XO about it but he wasn't willing to risk us. What's changed?" Something huge had to come down the pipe to get Tillman to change his mind about that, seeing as how the projected losses didn't make it worth making an attempt at a hit, and now Allie's starting to fret. "Lords. I…frak. Okay. We're ready for it. We really are ready." Self-directed prep talks. Gotta love them.
"Much of the brunt of the assault upon it shall fall to our ground troops," Cidra says. "Our primary task, if I understand the preliminaries correctly, shall be to secure their entry into this facility. That said, be prepared for resistance. We have not been able to do extensive recon but the assumption is it shall be a..target rich space environment." She has a sort of flair for understatement. A pause and she adds, with a sort of earnestness, "I do believe this to be a mission of importance. Command does think the Cylons aim to end what life remains on the colonies with this. Perhaps we can actually do some good." That'd be nice for a change.
Sitka looks briefly sidelong to Alessandra when she mentions having discussed the operation with the XO. A tiny pique of curiosity, little more. Then back to Cidra with a slightly raised brow when she offers that euphemism for 'bristling with raiders'. "Is it possible Kal and his bunch might be able to put to use one of their prior, uh, projects in this instance? I seem to recall them coming up with a pretty fancy decoy. Might need all the help we can get in there."
"We'll have to be especially careful, sir. Which probably goes without saying, of course, but anyways." Alessandra turns her head just in time to catch that look which gains him a raised brow, her head angling in a silently posed 'what?'. "You're talking about the missile platform, yes?" Flinching, she taps the tip of her right forefinger to the tip of her thumb, sorting through the bits of information she has been told recently. "I don't think any of their projects have been finished, sirs. Not with Fresh being killed and Coll having sustained the injuries she did. They were…are…two very important people to that project." Of course Shiv could have been talking about something entirely different.
"Shiv refers to the swallow decoys, I do believe," Cidra says with a small nod. "They have been deployed before, to good results, and are already quite within our abilities. It is a good notion to have them at our availability, at least. Only matter is balancing how our Raptors are deployed. Some at least shall likely be outfitted with missiles, and to load one you must sacrifice the other. And missiles are what is needed if we come to face a basestar again." Yeah, those would've been helpful at points in the past. She clears her throat. "We have multiple Raptors at our disposal, however, and Bootstrap and I do both like to have all we can at our hand with them. I shall speak upon it with him before we go off."
The explanation gets a firm nod from Shiv, and something briefly scrawled down on the notepad he rummages up from a pocket of his fatigues. "I think the mark twos can handle missile packs as well, sir. If you want to consider the extra firepower and the work required, deck-side. I'm sure the sevens could be retrofitted with them as well, but, uh.." A quick, self-deprecating smile. "I'm probably getting ahead of myself, anyway. I'll make sure they're ready." The notepad's tucked away again, and he eases straighter in his chair as if anticipating being dismissed.
Alessandra nods. "I stand corrected. Sorry for that. I have friends in a lot of the various departments.." Hence how she heard about the biowarfare station and a lot of other things, "…and…damn. I had forgotten about those decoys. Those damn things would come in handy as well." The talk of missiles has her wishing those who flew the 7s were so lucky and she can not help but to sigh wishfully. "I'll make sure…I mean, I'll help Captain Sitka get everything ready, sir."
Cidra stands fluidly. "Time is tight. But make ready as you can, the both of you. Dismissed. I shall get the word passed, though do see to your people." A nod to the both of them. An side look to Sitka. She still owes him a chat. At a later time.
The Captain's on his feet not long after dimissal's given, and there's an ever so brief meeting of eyes when Cidra sends him that sidelong look. He nods mutely. Then, "Will do, sir. Take it easy." A faint smile in accompaniment to the farewell he often gives, and Allie's shoulder is given a gentle squeeze on his way to the hatch. "Like to meet with you after the operation," he tells her in passing, "to discuss the state of the squadron. No rush, though." And out he goes, probably to catch up on sleep before his patrol.
Standing, Allie snaps the Major a salute, her eyes holding to Toast's as she smiles. "Yes sir. Thank you." Her arm is lowered to her side and then she's following after Sitka, grinning wryly as she nods. "Consider me at your disposal," she quips sincerely; once out the hatch, she turns and heads to the sims. Sleep won't be coming for her for a bit, yet.
Cidra lets them go without anything further, just now. She sinks back into her chair and lights another cigarette. As she does.