PHD #108: Pilots, Marines and Fashionable Mechanics
Pilots, Marines and Fashionable Mechanics
Summary: Cidra and Madilyn speaks briefly on the hangar deck about security in the after-math of Rear Admiral Abbot's detainment. Volunteer Deckie Santiago reveals the source of her mojo for aircraft engines.
Date: 14 Jun 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Cidra Madilyn Santiago 
Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus
The single largest rooms on the Cerberus are the hangar decks. Each flight pod consists of two stacked landing bays with adjoined decks and hangars, which along with computer-assisted landings results in a faster Viper recovery rate. Mirror images of each other, these two huge areas are located on the flight pods. The inboard sides of the deck, closest to the ship's main hull, are lined with parking and maintenance bays for Vipers and Raptors based aboard the battlestar. The outboard side of the deck contains the launch tubes used by the Vipers for standard deployment. Huge blast doors seal the deck into four sections, each one containing an elevator that leads up to the flight deck directly overhead. The fore-most section contains an elevator system that leads towards Aerospace Fabrication.
Post-Holocaust Day: #108

The hangar deck is never what one would call quiet. CAPs run at all hours, and even when planes aren't landing or being launched, maintenance on the increasingly-stressed planes is a twenty-four hour job. It's the end of one air patrol cycle now. Cidra, for her part, is just coming off. She was jockeying the CAP Raptor, along with a dark-haired ECO, both of whom make their way down from the flight deck to the hangar proper after they've finished post-flight. "The treads on Six-Seven-Zero are starting to wear, I think. Our landing scraped more plating than it should have coming in at that speed," Cidra chats with the ECO ensign as she walks. "I will mention it to the crew chief on duty."

No Madilyn isn't the crew chief on duty, and her Marine beiges look really out of place down here on the hangar deck. Seeing as how it's been the location of a heck of a lot of problems recently, it's probably not a shock that she is down here though. The Marine presence on deck has, of course, been beefed up as per the recommendation of several MPs, and with the approval of both her and the command staff, but today, she's on a personal tour of the ship following the events of the past week or so. She's careful not to get in the way of the deckies, overworked and understaffed as always, and almost doesn't recognize the CAG just coming off of CAP and in her flight suit. "Hello Major," Madilyn calls out, waving her over. "Do you have a moment?"

There's a zeroing in on that Marine beige when Cidra catches sight of it, but she does indeed not look surprised to see Madilyn. But, then again, displays of things like surprise from the CAG are rare. She manages inscrutable passing well most of the time, though there's a look of contentment about her just now. Just off the flight line and still running on the fumes from it. The only piece of her suit she's removed is her helmet, which is tucked under one arm, and she's loosed her dark hair from the bun she wears during flight. It's lank and rather sweaty from hours under said helmet. "Major Willows-Cavanaugh." Both surnames today, respectful, coupled with an inclination of her head to the Marine CO. "I have several moments. My post-flight is done and I have nothing awaiting me but a shower. Which I can delay, if you shall not mind it." Barest hint of a smile.

"Oh…no, I don't mind it. I've experienced worse, with the marines and what have you." The little hint of a smile is returned to the CAG, and Madilyn motions towards the exit with a nod of her head. "I've just a few brief questions for you, regarding the increased marine presence on the deck. Has it given your pilots any increased sense of ease regarding certain…ah, recent events?" Her hands are clasped behind her back as she moves.

"That's mostly for my own personal curiosity, as I have admitedly never experienced any situation like this except in theoretical exercises. Additionally, have you heard any seditious rumblings amongst your pilots concerning the actions taken against Abbot? With the upcoming operatoins, I want to make sure things go as smoothly as possible."

"I have always imagined living with Marines must be rather like living with pilots," Cidra says wryly, with a sort of rueful sympathy. As for the question, she takes a moment to mull it. All humor fading. "For my part, I am grateful for you putting more men down here. Ensign Villon's death - all peace upon her soul - has unnerved my pilots greatly. Something visual they can fix upon, something tangible as a sign that something is being done, is as much a comfort as anything in times like these." The next question makes her pause, lips pursing thoughtfully. "Seditious? I would not go that far, but it has of course caused some tensions. Few speak of it to me. But, then, it is know that I supported Major Tillman's actions. I hope, with the Colonel's decree of amnesty for actions taken during Abbot's arrest, that it might ease remaining tensions on the ship some. All around."

"I know that Major Tillman wanted to keep you out of the loop as much as possible, given that his removal would put you next in line. I'm trying to gain a better sense of crew feelings for myself, hence this…little walking tour," Madilyn says with a nod. "It's harder for me, of course, being one of the 'faces' for Abbot's arrest. I think the only persons suffering more are Major Tillman and Corporal Constin. As for Lieutenant Rime and her little announcement…well, I'll save my words for her until all is said and done."

"I do not put too much on Lieutenant Rime, for my part," Cidra says. "She thought herself acting to her duty to the ship. Though she did only inflame the situation. It is my hope that answers lie on Leonis that can settle this ugly business. Along with the retrieval of our people. How are you bearing that?" A pause and she adds, "If you do not mind my asking. It was a volunteer mission, of course. And one I thought of great necessity. I was quite proud of those who went. Though I always do feel responsible, particularly when my people are out of my sight."

"Well, it pleases me to know that they aren't dead, nor are they forgotten. Lieutenant Sophronia's news from the planet, distressing though it may be, and the other communications we've had with those on the planet is at least a testament to their adapability and survival instinct. It makes me just the slightest bit proud to know that the crew aboard this battlestar are capable of toughing it out through all of that." Madilyn too pauses and collects her thoughts partway through her reply. "If we can get them home safely, with or without Vipers, with or without intel, I'll feel greatly relieved. Anything above and beyond that is a perk. One piece of information being a very big…ah. Well, perk isn't exactly the word I should use when the life of a man - or whatever the frak it is that he is - is on the line."

"So say we all," Cidra says, simple but firm agreement on the main of getting their people back. A new CAP has launched not long ago. Cidra's fresh off the old one. Still in her flight suit, sans, helmet, as she talks quietly off to the side with Madilyn. "Part of me hopes it all was for naught. That we were all terribly wrong. I did not know Admiral Abbot well. He was a distant sort of man, and I had not served under him long. Still, he was my commander, you know?"

"Aye. It almost feels like betraying one's father…almost. The evidence was simply too consistant to be ignored, and duty to the rest of the crew too great. Whether he is in fact guilty remains to be seen, and I make no claim to his guilt or not. I made my decision based on the evidence presented to me, and subject myself to the legal process our founding fathers put into place to make the decision of his guilt. Hopefully, if this upcoming operation goes as planned, we'll have our people back AND the evidence required to settle this issue and put the crew back to a singular focus." Madilyn stands chatting with Cidra off at a side, enough out of the way that they don't interfere with deck operations and have what little sense of privacy there is to be had on the flight deck.

"Oh for frak's sake," comes a mutter as Santiago is accosted by a Deckie, and forced to hand over a partcular slimline torque wrench. "Take it, you sweaty beast." She produces said wrench, and hunkers down by a tower toolbox on wheels, a clean cloth in her hands, so she can wipe off some viper grease. The 'sweaty beast' in question is actually Crewman 'Lefty' Logo, who is neither sweaty, nor a beast. She is also, it might be noted, from Sagittaron, perhaps a bit at odds with Santiago's Aquarian roots. She shakes her head, and turns to walk across the deck in the general direction of the stairwell. She wears coveralls, but they're black rather than the usual military orange. Probably because she's in no way military. A glance is cast toward the two officers conversing off to the side. She'll likely pass just by them, unless she cuts through the middle of the Hangar.

"Father? I had never much thought of it that way. Though I suppose there is a measure of truth to it. Or Zeus himself upon his throne in CIC. A good ship commander wields authority not dissimilar," Cidra says. "I never thought I would turn upon one. But you speak truly. The evidence was too disturbing to simply ignore. I pray it shall all be resolved soon, one way or another." She pauses after that. The 'Oh for frak's sake' getting her attention. Head turns and for a moment she just watches the mechanic in black. Head tilted with a mild sort of curiosity. Like she's watching a strange bird out of its natural habitat. "A good eve Miss…?" Faint recognition there. It takes it a second to tug at her mind, but she's got it by the time Santiago is passing. "…Blue, yes?"

Santiago's rough language, off-colored coveralls, and prompt exit from the deck gets Madilyn's attention as well. Blue. Blue. Civilian? QUODEL? The name is vaguely familiar, but it's not evoking any specific personnel flags at the moment. "Trouble with the deck crew, Miss Blue?" Madilyn asks, going off of Cidra's prompt regarding the third woman's name.

"Mmhm," comes Santi's reply, as she's addressed, in passing, by the CAG. "Santiago Blue." She slows on the approach, leaving time for an exchange of some words, lest she be forced to reply with her back already to the other woman. "Living with knuckle draggers is going to kill me one of these days," she comments, unsolicited. "At least they know how to handle high speed engines. I'd be crying myself to sleep every night otherwise."

"You could most certainly do worse for company than the Deckhands," Cidra says. "You are enjoying your work here, then? That is for the good. You have my great thanks, by the by, for those efforts. Any extra pair of hands is more planes that are kept flying, in some measure of good repair. We have too few hands in all places on this ship nowadays."

Madilyn nods to Santiago's response. However, the presence of the civilian sort of dissuades her from continuing any additional conversation with the CAG about upcoming missions. "Major, Miss Blue. I'm afraid that my time on deck is both less frequent and shorter than both of yours, and that's for the best. I likely couldn't tell a Viper's flight control systems from a normal computer terminal elsewhere in the ship, if the cover were removed. That being said, if you'll excuse me, there are other areas of the ship that need surprise inspections of the MPs on duty to see if they're adhering to the current security protocols." She gives each of them a nod, in turn, and makes for the stairs.

Santiago glances briefly at her nails as she finishes with the rag, then shoves it deep into the pocket of her coveralls. She glances over to Cidra, then Madilyn. "I do it because I'd have gone completely stir crazy by now if I didn't have something to which to apply my hands," she says first to Cidra, before she addresses Madilyn. "Testing MPs sounds like a good time. Marines." She smiles, but doesn't add to the sentence aloud. "Goodnight."

"Major," Cidra offers simply to the departing Marine. Lingering on the Deck a little longer, for her part. In need of a post-flight shower though she is. She glances down at Santiago's nails as well, before they're pocketed away. Perhaps checking for polish or some color. "I do not suppose you…have considered joining up?" She sounds half-dubious even before the words are out of her mouth. The woman doesn't exactly blend on Deck as it is. But she does manage to finish the question.

Santi's nails are closely trippled, as opposed to her former ornamental, much longer nails. They're varnished clear with white tips, still expertly maintained, just barely long enough to use as weapons. Her eyes flick to Cidra as the other woman makes that suggestion. "I'm a high speed racer. I fly, and a drive. Only reason I know my way around these engines is because of that training." She jerks a thumb over her shoulder toward the vipers. "I'm not military material, Major." She doesn't elaborate on that, but it's a good bet she doesn't need to. Of all the things that could mean, enough are obvious that any mystery need not be searched out. "We have enough soldiers." Though Cidra likely would not know it, that was almost diplomatic for the younger Blue.

"You fly, do you?" Cidra's tone is skeptical, following Santiago's jerked thumb over to the Vipers. Very skeptical, but curious. Not that she presses the subject now. She is off four hours in a Raptor. That shower needs to happen quite soon. "Well. At least you are making productive use of yourself on these engines. Perhaps you will tire someday of…not being a soldier. I shall leave you to it, Miss Blue." A parting inclination of her head is offered.

Santiago returns the inclination, her chin dropping slightly in response. "Major." The simple address serves as a farewell and acknowledgement of the previous words. The woman lingers on the deck to allow the CAG time to clear the stairwell. Perhaps, also, to give her a moment to yell something to Lefty without being overheard.

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