PHD #384: Recognition
Summary: The efforts of Marko and Leyla get formally recognized by their SL, their CAG, and even Fleet Command.
Date: 17 Mar 2042 AE
Related Logs: Time for a Test Drive & Making It Happen (Marko's programming); More Than Just Ashes, Waypoints, Questing & Past is Prologue (ships)
Cidra Leyla Marko Trask 
Ready Room - Deck 7 - Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #384
With the hatches at the rear of the room, the walkways on both sides slope down towards the dais at the front of the room. The stadium seating forms a partial semi-circle around the speaking podium and provides enough seats for all three hundred members of the Air Wing. The walls are adorned with the patches of each squadron aboard and their mottos stenciled in white lettering above each one. Behind the podium is a set of large LCD screens that can display any matter of material from reconnaissance to maps to gun camera footage.
Condition Level: 2 - Danger Close

It's a simple missive that reaches LTJG Marko Scaurus, issued by his squadron leader, who requests the JiG's presence in the Ready Room at a set date and time. For his part, Captain Kal Trask is already present, clad in his flightsuit, as is par for the course for the man during Condition Two. While he waits, he occupies himself with the reviewing of flight footage on the main LCD screen, pausing and rewinding every so often, making notes of timestamps in a small notebook.

Never a good idea to sneak up on a superior officer. Some of them tend to take it kind of personally. So when Marko arrives in the Ready Room at the required date and time, he clears his throat a little to announce his presence, frowning a little as he takes in the footage being displayed.

Cidra drifts in on Marko's heels, also in her flight gear, though she looks like she's had a chance to get some rack time and shower before coming on duty. If the swarms haven't broken, they're at least abating enough to allow repairs - both physical and mechanical - to be done more completely. "I am not late, I trust, Lieutenant Scaurus," she says as she comes up behind him. She's not, of course. "This, I would not miss." Not that she says precisely what it is, an inscrutable half-smile on her lips.

With the press of a button, the video feed freezes on a close-up of a Raider, red eye ablaze. Without missing a beat, Bootstrap swivels in his seat and is then back upon his feet. "Seeing how nothing ever starts until the highest ranking officer that is supposed to be present is actually present, I'm not sure if said highest ranking officer can be late, technically speaking." An amused smile forms. "Major Hahn," is then offered in greeting, along with a respectful nod. "Lieutenant."

And, no… he's not any more forthcoming than the CAG about what all 'this' is about.

"This from last night?" Marko asks, cocking his head as he peers at the craft on the screen. "Another three striper… Damn… They're pretty serious about dogging our footsteps, aren't they?" he sighs. He doesn't bother asking any more questions than that. Mysterious Trask is being… eh, yeah, mysterious.

"I do like to be prompt in any case. But yes, they are. Though I do believe we have disrupted production. The Raiders appeared with a basestar in support last night, which is the first time that has been seen in a long while. But. We shall take that as it comes. Lieutenant Junior Grade Marko Scaurus. To attention." As ever, she doesn't bark, but she projects her Gemenese-accented alto firmly as she ascends the podium. "Captain, if you would do the honors. This is long overdue."

Cidra pretty much answered the question about the Raiders, and Trask is in no mood to dilly-dally, so he has no two cubits to add. Instead, he notes in a rascally way, "Well, seeing how I was the one to start this, and that I'm not the sort who stops something before finishing, seems only apt that I do, Major." Just what, exactly? The way the SL takes a position next to the CAG should be a strong hint.

"Junior Grade Lieutenant Marko Scaurus, callsign Flasher." A brief pause and a faintly assessing look. "You've come a long way from your rook days, fresh out of the flight academy, and you have yet to disappoint. And, believe me, I've been keepin' a close eye on you," Trask good-naturedly smirks, "And seein' that I've liked what I've seen, I've made it a point to bring it to the fore. Since you've joined us, you've gone above and beyond the call of duty as to what is expected of an Electronic Countermeasures Officer. You've been my go-to guy on several occasions, and due to your efforts and abilities, you've managed to make my ideas realities when I've lacked the necessary time or necessary skills to do so myself. For that, /I/ thank you."

"And since I want you to understand just how much value I place on all you've done, I thought it was high time that the Colonial military also show its appreciation." At which point, the SL produces a small box with an impish gleam in those large brown eyes of his. "I'm pleased to inform you that Command agreed with me. As such, it's equally my pleasure to present you with this Fleet Commendation Medal for Meritorious Service." So shiny.

Marko stands to attention as ordered, then nearly keels over when Trask presents his commendation. Thankfully, OCS has prepared him for moments like this, so he knows not to say 'thank you' or protest that he was just doing his job same as everyone else on the ship, though it's clearly an effort. Fortunately, military etiquette is somewhat fuzzier on the subject of turning about four shades of pink from neck to ear tips. "Sir!" Flasher replies, snapping off a salute. "Very grateful, sir," he adds, managing to get the words out without a stammer.

Cidra descends from the spot at the podium where she was standing as Marko is medal'd properly. "Indeed, you have a deep skill-set that many of us lack and you have always put it to use above and beyond the call of duty, not only for our Wing but for the ship and the Fleet at large. Command has found your efforts with high-level computer work invaluable, particularly, and your assistance in the reprogramming of our simulators has not only sharpened and strengthened our training - of both our Nuggets and regular officers - but has been carried over to the Areion as well, so impressed was Lieutenant Colonel Baer with its application. You do all you are called for without complaint, and you are called for much. Your efforts have made us all better in small ways which are not acknowledged enough. It is well-deserved." She acknowledges Marko's salute with a fluid one of her own. And then, approaches him to give him a kiss. A brisk one on each cheek, if he allows, just like when he was promoted. It has a ceremonial quality to it, not romantic.

Crisply returning the salute as befits the moment and the sincerity of all that Trask has said, he still adds somewhat amusedly, "Well, you certainly earned it, Scaurus. All honors to your service." The medal in its box is extended for the junior officer to accept.

Leyla is here, she really, really is. In fact, she's been here all along! Well, no, she hasn't. In fact, she's only now arriving, the soft sound of the hatch barely breaking the silence between words. She actually can hear the voices, so it's a quiet entry into the ready room. She is, however, still in her flight suit, having been off alert status for only a short while. Long enough to clean up and put the suit back on. With the cylons around, with a basestar no less, there's no time to dress as you like. Leyla just manages to catch the end of the presentation. She also looks almost as proud as Cidra and Trask. That's her ECO!

Marko blushes perhaps a little bit brighter at Cidra's kiss, ceremonial though it may be before slowly reaching for the box containing his medal and accepting it with all military decorum. "All Honors to yours, sirs," Marko replies, tucking the box against his side before saluting again. "In the name of Ares and Enyo," he says formally.

"All honors to your service, Flasher," Cidra says, stepping back up to the podium. "Stay where you are. There is one more matter to settle that concerns you and Lieutenant Aydin both." Eyes focus on Leyla now. "Sweet Pea, up front and to attention. Captain, again, if you would."

Thanks for not letting her sneak in the back, Cidra. Seriously, though, Leyla makes her way through the empty seats of the ready room, waiting, though, until Marko's had his time to receive his medal. That's his time and should and is respected as such. Once she finally does arrive, her steps carry her past her ECO, close enough she can brush his arm with hers. Under the circumstances, and given both of their personalities, as close to a hug and a session of hugging and screaming and jumping around as these two get, "Yes, sir. Sirs. Congratulations, Flasher."

This time, there is no box. There is, however, a folder that Bootstrap retrieves from the podium. Showing all the proper form one would expect of a superior officer, the SL begins, "Lieutenant Leyla Aydin, callsign Sweet Pea." Again, a faint pause that is mildly assessing. "Junior Grade Lieutenant Marko Scaurus." Why, yes, the ECO is being called out, again. "I like it when intelligent people take initiative, which you both are and have. Without any prompting, you took it upon yourselves to decipher some skinjob's scribbles to find some waypoints that led to what is presumed to be an ark ship from Kobol, as well as a freighter that might well have an FTL engine that can be scavenged and salvaged for the Elpis. While neither is yet considered a sure thing, it's still important enough that I wanted it noted in your respective jackets."

Flipping open the folder, a pristine, formal letter of commendation is handed to Leyla and then one is to Marko. "These copies are for your personal records." As is standard protocol. They've been written and signed by Trask. "Good work. Once things calm down, again, insofar as they are ever calm," to which he wryly smirks, "we'll see if that engine is the magic slipper the Elpis has been waiting for."

Marko turns his head just enough to meet Leyla's eyes and give her a little grin before forcing his face back to ceremonial blankness, stiffening his posture just a little as Trask continues. This time, the subject matter comes as only a little surprise, as he'd long figured that their little Quest had attracted some high level attention. Not that he's letting it show, of course, just, well, yeah, he knew. When you lay down full colors on an op, it's hard to be surprised when people are impressed. Hell, _he_ was impressed. "Here's hoping, sir," he replies quietly, still formal.

"Whatever the import," Cidra asserts, "at the least you made the most important archaeological find in modern Colonial history. Not the most pressing matter, perhaps, as our situation stands. But it is no small thing, and gods only knows what secrets it might hold about our past, and perhaps import to our larger mission. That you did this under your own initiative, while what we found in that house on Wreath of Roses was not known as a priority matter, speaks all the more highly of the work put into it." A nod particularly to Leyla there. "I said it to Flasher a moment ago, and I say it to you as well. You always serve not only as called to serve, but above and beyond it. All honors to your service, and long overdue."

Once Leyla comes to stand not far from Marko's side, she too comes to stand at attention. The flight suit makes it not as formal in appearance as it could be, but her posture and the seriousness of her expression more than make up for it, as far as these things can be made up for. The slightest arching of her brows at Trask's words, and the letter that's handed over to her, lessened only slightly at Cidra's commentary. "Thank you, Sirs. Flasher and I will always do whatever we can for the good of the fleet and hope that our work reflects positively on you both and on the wing."

"So say we all," is what Trask chimes in to Cidra's statements. Then, to Leyla, "We know." A small smile, but a satisfied one. "And it does. You both do honor to your selves and your comrades." This is sincere even if said with a lack of fanfare. Effusiveness really isn't the Black Country way, and he most certainly is Black to his very core. Even so, he still shows all the proper military respects that are called for in such a situation. "All honors to your service, lieutenants." Capped with a salute.

And even though the SL has said all he wanted to say and did all that he wanted to do, he leaves it to the Major to dismiss the junior officers at her leisure.

Cidra does indeed salute as well, and does indeed get to the capping of this. "Clear eyes and steady hands out there. You are dismissed, with all honors again."

The salute is returned, Leyla's body angled to encompass both CAG and SL. The letter is lightly held, kept carefully straight, so as not to damage it. But she remains by Marko's side throughout, will likely turn to depart when he does, once they're dismissed. So much work to do, so little time.

Marko returns Trask's salute with the appropriate gravitas, holding his letter much the way that Leyla holds hers.

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