| Salty Dog |
| Summary: | During a interdepartmental meeting regarding the freighter, Cidra calls an old salt out of retirement, sort of. |
| Date: | 26 Oct 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | ALL of the freighter related logs. |
| Players: |
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| Naval Offices |
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| 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: #242 |
Cidra apparently has a notion of who might be able to pilot the civilian freighter, and she has summoned various persons of interest here to pitch it. She's staked out an area in the general 'Air Operations' section of the cubicles, rather than her small office (which is a decidedly cramped place if the population exceeds four). She stands by one of the desks now, chatting softly with a grizzled old fellow in his sixties dressed in civilian clothing. She's in blues, for her part, and looks more-or-less official.
Rose is being led into the naval offices by an MP, apparently making one-sided small-talk with him as they come. The marine says a lot of "Yes, ma'am" and "No, ma'am" in response to her chatter; she seems excited to be outside of the confines that the civilians are restricted to. Once they get close to the meeting place, however, she gets very quiet, much to the MP's pleasure — who excuses himself until needed to escort her back.
Good thing there's more than just an MP here to represent the Marine presence in this little meeting: Madilyn is there, hovering about the desks in the office space. Rather than blues, she's in the every day duty browns, mug of coffee in one hand, and leather-bound writing portfolio in the other. The conversation seems more or less to preclude her for the moment, but she's there.
Exit light, enter snipe? Well, no. The lights stay on. Happy wires are happily working. Sofia hums softly, in her greens. She must've just washed too, she looks pretty clean. She seems a bit shy about it though. She follows shortly after Rose and the MP. She smiles politely at people in passing, eyes a little wide.
Leyla too, makes her way into the area, though she doesn't need the escort and actually look as though she might belong here. Finishing up the procession of humanity, the small pilot comes in not too long after Sofia makes her appearance, though she immediately begins to make her way towards where Cidra is standing. The conversation, however, is not interrupted.
"Ah. Miss Ibbhanas," Cidra calls to Rose and her MP escort when she spots them entering. They are waved over. As are the others. The man she's talking to grunts and stands up straighter, nodding in a cordial sort of way to the lot of them, but he doesn't say anything for the moment. They're all, particularly Rose, eyed speculatively by him. Cidra clears her throat. "I do thank you all for making the time to come. With the acquisition of the freighter to our ranks, there are several questions. Notably, how it shall be crewed. Much of that I cannot answer, but I have a proposal for how it may be piloted. As I am unwilling to take combat pilots off the line…" Small nod to Leyla. "…but it still does need skilled hands to fly it. Lieutenant Aydin. Crewman Wolfe." Another nod to Leyla, and one to Sofia. "You are both familiar with this vessel, yes? If you could perhaps refresh our minds with a rough description of what sort of vessel it is, and what it might require in terms of handling and maintenance."
Rose dips her head quickly and flashes a brief smile to Cidra, but doesn't make a peep — there are far taller people here with big brass, erm, bars. She's content with pressing herself into whatever corner is available, holding onto her folded whitestick tightly, and just listening for now.
Sofia smiles and nods back. "Yes sir," Sofia replies. She seems curious about the man beside Cidra. "Hello there," She offers softly. For the moment, Sofia seems to listen, a snipe and an enlisted person in the presence of officers.
If nothing else, Madilyn is familiar with the interior layout of the vessel. Fat lot of good that will do when it comes to listing the specs that are relevant when it comes to piloting and staffing and the like. That's best left to the real experts, the people that have made a living doing this stuff.
Leyla's nod to the unnamed civilian is as polite and cordial as the one she offers Cidra. Once she's given the go-ahead to give the specifics, she offers, with her pilot's angle on the ship, "A Eunostos-class bulk transport freighter. Retrofitted by the last owner to serve both as crop storage and as a means of crop production during the winter months in the north of the colony. Approximate length 400 meters, width 80 meters, draft 50 meters. Approximate capacity…let's say, with the changes that were made to her interior…230,000 metric tons deadweight. Looks like it had a crew of probably a dozen, maybe 15 to be safe, with a pilot and a co-pilot. Sublight engines and a tylium fusion reactor for power. She's been retrofitted with an FTL drive capable of matching the distance of the FTL drives on our military vessels. Fuel consumption is…suboptimal." Read…she drinks fuel for breakfast. "Depending on her final configuration, she could hold perhaps…1200, 1500 passengers, but that's going to be cut down quite a bit depending on how much we dedicate to agrarian interests."
"Hello there, little lady," the man beside Cidra says. Even his voice sounds grizzled. He adds with a sideways grin. "Ladies." Like he just realized he was the only man in this little gathering. He doesn't seem to mind. "Name's Benjamin Cincinnatus. Used to be Colonel Cincinnatus, back when I was a bus driver. I was retired a good few years when the toasters dropped the bombs on Leonis. Been cooling my heels aboard ever since. Not that I don't appreciate the hospitality, but the Major thinks I can put myself to better work than hanging around playing Triad and telling old stories to pretty girls. Eunostos, huh? Couldn't find anything fancier?" Grin's turned to Leyla as she lists out the specs. He digs that kind of thing.
Cidra lets him talk, nodding along with parts of it. "I have been considering how it might be crewed. Security is, of course, a concern, but we have not enough pilots to take off the line for full-time duty aboard the thing. Colonel Cincinnatus may not longer be able to fly a Raptor…" Observation accompanied by a respectful nod. "…but he has assured me he is more than up to the task of piloting a vessel such as this. If that is amenable to our Marine security concerns." Nod to Madilyn. "And the civilians, but of course. This should be seen as a proposal, Miss Ibbhanas. It shall be a vessel largely given to you and yours, after all."
"That's considerably larger than I was expecting," Rose finally pipes up, but she covers her mouth with her hand when she does so, blushing quite red. "Er, forgive me. I didn't mean to speak out of turn," she says shyly. At Cidra's addressing her directly, she clears her throat and tries not to be so meek. "That sounds much larger than I was expecting. I… have some offhand figures, if you're interested?"
"Retired Colonial Fleet sounds like one less concern when it comes to ship security," Madilyn nods toward Cincinnatus. "Not that I was ever very comfortable turning over a ship that large to an all-civilian crew, no offense to you and the other civilians, Miss Ibbhanas." When it comes to the figures regarding security concerns, Madilyn seems content to let Rose give the run-down before she speaks to that matter.
Sofia smiles. She looks to Madilyn and then back to Leyla, listening quietly. She tilts her head. A bus — ooohh. She grins at his story about hanging around playing Triad and telling stories. Probably a good business on the Cerberus. "It sounds like a good idea. Um, the security thing - well, like the time some toasters tried to sneak in…" She pushes her finger tips together. One can probably imagine what would happen if Cylons got loose on the civilian ship. "That's wonderful though," That they found a pilot. She peers quietly at Rose.
"Good to meet you, Colonel." No, Leyla isn't going to salute him, since he is, frankly, retired, but she does pay him the respect his time in service deserves, "She is fancy, compared to what else we found on the planet, which was a whole lot of wreckage and ships so old and so derelict if you blew on them they'd crumble to dust. We were lucky to find her with a reactor still hot. Most of those had been pulled." There is a shake of her head, as she turns her attention to Rose, "There aren't any turns. And if there were, as our resident expert on hydroponics, or so I've been told, it seems like you should be in the middle of all of this." And then, to the Major…um, the other Major, "Begging your indulgence, Major Cavanaugh-Willows, but we have our home, and the civilians need their own. If we want them to trust us, we need to trust them a bit as well, within reason." How exactly that trust plays into the CMCs security concerns, well, that's why she's Navy, not Marine.
Arriving late but in no particular hurry is Damon, wearing off-duty gear. The fact that his hair is wet and messy probably means he just hopped out of the shower. "Major. Major." He greets Cidra and Madilyn. "El-Tee, Sofie." Those two get smiles to accompany the less formal greeting. And last but not least, "…Rose." She gets a smile too, whether she can see it or not. Cincinnatus just gets an odd look - friendly but confused - and a simple incline of the head in acknowledgement. "Sorry to be tardy to the party. What'd I miss?"
Cidra nods to Madilyn. "This was my thought. If you think this a good notion, I do figure between the two of us we can sell it to Command without much trouble. If the civilians shall accept the Colonel, that is." There is an edge of concern to her voice at that. To Rose, "Oh, yes. Figures would be most helpful, Miss."
Cincinnatus grunts, nodding some to Leyla. "Yeah. I'm not wearing the uniform full-time anymore, but I ain't really a civilian. I understand there's been some ruckus among the civs about the military in some quarters. I can't fly the thing all the time by myself, so I'll need some co-pilots to lend a hand. Toast was going over some numbers for me, wannabe Nuggets who didn't make the cut for whatever reason. Age, health troubles, whatever. Should be enough to fly it proper twenty-four-seven, if they can cut the job. And they're proper civilians. Might make things go over easier." A casual nodded and grunted, "Good of you to join" is directed at Damon.
"Andreas?" Rose straightens up immediately, peering in the direction of his voice. You remember that blushing? Yeah, still going. At Cidra's words, though, she's back to science. "Yes, um, well. Assuming that we grow precisely the right amount of vegetables to sustain a human being: carbohydrates, oils, protein, and fiber, we're looking at roughly two hundred kilograms of food a year. That's assuming we break it down into kibble, or MREs, with no variety and no waste," she explains. "For a population of two thousand, that's about four hundred thousand kilograms of food. That's processing eleven hundred kilograms of vegetables a day. Given the square footage we're talking, we have both room for variety and waste, although of course the latter can be managed with good processing procedures and skilled workers. Um, sirs." She tacks that last bit on, being the small fish in the aquarium at the moment.
"Chief." Damon gets the usual greeting from the pilot, as Leyla waits for him to join them before she returns to the conversation, "Well, we can always hope you can act as a sort of bridge. Between us and them, Colonel. You know our routines and the way we do things, but, I would imagine," she does not say 'given your age', but she thinks it, and it's the thought that counts, "you've been out of the uniform long enough that they'll see you as one of their own."
Sofia smiles at Damon in turn. She nods a welcome. She smiles faintly at Cincinnatus' comments and tilts her head. "Hi," She whispers. Sofia smiles at Rose's sirs. "Wow. That's a lot of numbers to crunch…" Sofia crunches on carrots and wires. It's a bit above her. She considers the group though, going respectfully quiet. "Maybe Captain Quinn could help in time too." Sofia points out Toast, as a possible helper. After all, one doesn't just bounce back after having a kid. It takes a bit. "Um. if it's not rude to consider. I'm sorry," She puts a hand to her mouth.
"So what's the atmosphere like down on that hangar deck, Miss Ibbhanas? Have there been any leaks about this freighter joining the fleet? About the civilians there being moved yet again, but this time to their own vessel?" Madilyn has basically resigned herself to the fact that even secret information would have leaked out, no matter how many NDAs and secret clearances folks are forced to jump through. "Would they be content to live on their own with minimal fleet interference, retired-Colonial pilots and all? What's your 'read' on the situation?"
Whoa. Damon really is late to the party. He listens as the conversation continues, inferring what he can from what's said. "It's me," he confirms quietly to Rose while the others talk. "If I can interject with a question that's already been answered - again, my apologies for being late and wasting time doubling over ground that's already been covered - is the… retired Colonel?" he peers at Cincinnatus to make sure he got that part of it right. "Is he being proposed as the head pilot of the freighter, or the Captain?"
"If Captain Quinn wishes to assist in growing efforts over there, she is welcome to do so as her duties permit," Cidra says with a small nod to Sofia. Though she's quiet after that, listening with interest for Rose's answer as to the mood on the hangar. Even mention of the hangar makes a slim frown line her face.
Cincinnatus grunts and nods at the prospect of being a 'bridge,' as Leyla puts it. "Never was much of a diplomat, Sweets." Maybe he knows her callsign. Maybe it's just a random name he's decided to call her. Who knows. He's settled comfortably into retirement and decided that kind of thing is now appropriate. To Damon, he nods. "Head pilot. Somebody's got to fly the thing, and the major wasn't going to pull actual combat pilots off the line. I can't jock a Raptor anymore, but I think I can handle a freighter still."
Rose chews on her lower lip in thought before responding. "Well, Major, as I've mentioned before, there are polarizing camps formed in the starboard hangar. There are dissidents, Sagittarons and not, who consider the military to be their 'captors', essentially. And then there is a smaller but growing contingent, those citizens who are interested in letting the military do their job and not chastise them for the conditions. I prescribe to the latter. We have many who are eager to contribute positively to society, eager to work, eager to do anything other than gnash teeth and throw spoiled MREs at police. I think, that with any decision of this magnitude, there will be both cheers and jeers, regarding the good retired naval officer," she says, dipping her head in Cincinnatus' direction. "I think you'll find more than enough crew for the freighter, ma'am. In fact, I'll wager you can pick and choose, pending background checks. I can vouch for a number of individuals who we can put in key positions regarding the hydroponics program."
Leyla sends something very close to a smile in the Colonel's direction, as his comment about diplomats and being a raptor stick, "We all have to do a bit of cross-training. Somehow, I get the feeling you're still quick enough on the stick to manage it, if it comes to that, Colonel." As for Captain? Not her purview. Nor is the disposition of the crop production, and so, she's quiet and yes, interested, in hearing Rose's take on what the freighter might be able to do in time.
Sofia looks quietly pained at Rose's words about camps. Sigh. It's not a pleasant thing. She seems to figure the retired guy seems nifty so far, but then - Sofia's a pushover. A smile at Cidra's reply on Quinn. Phew. She is quiet though, perhaps letting her brain stew in thoughts and ideas. Hmmm. Ponder.
Madilyn sets her jaw and nods. "On on hand, this could be good in dealing with the Saggitaron 'problem,' to give them more of the independence they crave to practice their…unique views. On the other, it may be giving dissidents the freedom to move about and plot free of any policing." It goes unsaid that it would be beneficial to include more of the latter camp than the former, but if things are to be fair and show a sign of good faith, it needs to be open to all. "It's that vehement reaction to the military that puts me in a bit of a catch twenty-two when it comes to security: keep a presence there and let them grow frustrated, or have no presence and let them do as they please. In either case, I expect that marines from Praetorian and Corsair will also be included in this venture, if only to spell our burden of security on two ships."
Damon nods his thanks to Cincinnatus when his question is answered, then shuts up and continues listening. He considers what's been laid out and chews the inside of his cheek while he thinks. "Just how civilian is this civilian ship?" he asks. "Is it merely to be occupied and crewed by civilians, but under the Fleet's command? If it's to be under the Fleet's command, who takes responsibility for the dissidents? The Colonel? If there is to be a Marine presence on the freighter, is it to counter the Cylon threat, or to keep the peace within the civilian populace?" He frowns contemplatively - he sure as hell doesn't have the answers. "I think the degree of autonomy will also define the security posture taken. If it's to be civilian-governed, well, let the civilians police themselves. We'll aid where our jurisdiction is concerned - and I defer to you on that, obviously, Major." He nods to Madilyn. "But to me, that'd be to deal with the Cylon threat or direct hostilities against the Fleet."
"The security situation is outside my purview," Cidra says to Madilyn. "As is the technical upkeep of the ship." Small nod to Sofia and Damon. "That I shall not concern myself with. I do believe we have found an equitable solution to the question of who shall fly it, at least. As for Captaincy…I suspect that shall be a touchier subject." Rose's account of the mood just earns a frown from her, particularly her comments about the Sagittarons, though no further comment right away. She doesn't have any answers, either.
Cincinnatus grunts a laugh. "The civs might be OK with ex-military flying it but not with one directly in charge of their lives? Yeah. I'll let Command and you fine folks tackle that, Miss." That to Rose. "I can take on that job if they want me to. Think I could manage it. But if all they want me to do is fly the big bertha, that'll keep me happy. Frak it, I've missed being in the pilot's seat. Don't feel right out of it too long." He grins at Leyla again. "No need to be so formal, El-Tee. I'm retired. Call me Payback. Pins you trade in, but frak me if I'm giving up the callsign."
"M-me?" Rose blinks. "I think you might have me confused with someone in charge, sir. I'm… just a civilian. There's not a lot I can do right now other than advise, as I'm more or less dependent on others to come and go, with my condition being what it is." She means her eyesight, naturally. "I'm afraid I'm in no position to be able to lend men and women." Those in the know, though, know differently…
Sofia smiles at Cincinnatus' comment on callsigns. "Well, there's been a lot of back and forth sir. But … I'd be scared of Cylons tried to board and they didn't have anyone with guns and armor there," She admits. She tilts her head at Rose. "Ummm… but like, you're a civilian and people seem to trust you lots with plants. I bet if you worked with Miss Averies, you guys could really get some stuff going for the civilians," Sofia offers. "I know she and someone else was working on their own little … thingy."
"Payback it is then. You can call me Sweet Pea, but Sweets is fine." Hell, it's not like anyone actually DOES seem to actually use her callsign. Everyone has their own variation. "And begging your pardon, ma'am," that to Rose, "But you current physical condition, it seems to be doesn't preclude you being able to think, or reason or talk to people. From what I've heard, the two go to people on that deck are you and Ms. Averies." A nod to Sofia to acknowledge her complementary comment. "We've gotten past the point where we can comfortably say, 'It's someone else's business, haven't we?'" Leyla settles in against one of the desks close by.
Sofia adds quietly, "But I'm a wire lady myself. I am happy to tell you what I know about the wiring and stuff so far… and what we'll set up. But I bet he knows just as much if not more," She inclines her head towards Damon.
"You are not 'just' a wire lady," Damon says to Sofia. "You've been involved with a lot of the work on the freighter that I know of, and probably more that I don't. As for me, I'm aware of the general progress of the ship, and more specific details on the projects that the Deck is working on." He looks puzzled when Rose and Sawyer are named together. "Miss Averies doesn't actually live with the civilian group, though, does she? I mean, I ask that question because I heard she was living in the berths. And it's significant, at least in my eyes, because it means she's not as organically connected to the refugee populace. Not the way that Rose is." He turns to face Rose, though his eyes only stay on her for a brief moment before looking to the others gathered there. "Just as Sofie isn't 'just' a wire lady, I think we all know that Rose isn't 'just' a civilian. You command a lot of respect from the people - and from us - not just for your qualifications and education, but your personality and passion."
"Miss Averies is attempting to organization some sort of civilian infrastructure," Cidra says. "I know not how much progress she made, but it may be a way to bring it to people in a way they shall accept. And I do not think you should be a bad spokesperson for this either, Miss Ibbhanas. It was your questions about hydroponics, and the over-crowding, that did lead to us finding the freighter. You have been most cooperative with us and know we do not intend anything ill by this, I do hope. Many of the civilians down there seem to trust what you tell them. It is, perhaps, at least a beginning."
Rose inclines her head, offering gracious smiles to everyone who commented to her. "Thank you… I just feel as if I were more capable, I could be a better asset to the project. But for now, if you are content with my passive discussions with agreeable sorts in the starboard hangar, and I'm scratching down all my notes as best as I can with whatever help I can get, then I'm glad to serve."
Sofia blushes at Damon's comment. She seems to smile and nod as Cidra speaks. "Yeah, I hope it works out for everyone. But thank you," A beam at Damon. "And I'm a veritable wire weasel I guess," She closes one eye. "But I hope the freighter's wires hold up a little better than Cerberus' did early on."
"We could certainly use all of the help we can get, getting the civilians on board. Not to mention making the military comfortable with having them in a place where we don't know what they're doing. No, we don't want you all crowded into the hangar deck like logs on a woodpile, but with so many people from so many disparate places, you can imagine why it's going to take a a bit before any of us are comfortable. But this is the logical next step. Giving you all back some semblance of freedom and society." Oh, if Flasher could hear her now, Leyla would never hear the end of it.
"So say we all, Sweet Pea," Cidra says with a small nod to Leyla. Perhaps a little surprised by the pilot's sentiment, albeit pleasantly so. Not that it's ever easy to tell with her. "In any case. There is much work to be done but I hope this is some small help to the project."
Cincinnatus gives another grunty nod to that. "Glad to be of service again. Now, I don't want to be rude and not wait for a dismissal but…frak, I used to rank you all. And I'm retired. I should be getting along. You and that tall drink of Marine Major let me know if Pewter has any other concerns about this for me, Toast." The man's ready to take his leave of the offices on that note.
Sofia smiles at Cincinnatus. She looks amused. "Be well sirs," She nods at that. She seems happy overall. "Let me know if you um, like, have any questions for me. Otherwise it's back to wiring for me," She smiles a little.
Rose gives a small wave to the blur-that-is-Cincinnatus as he departs. "Thank you for meeting us, Captain. Colonel? Eek! Sir!" Not sure what to call him, she blushes. Under her breath, "Ugh, ranks. So confusing."
"If we can get Payback on the roster, I think we'll be a good way towards getting this thing off the ground." So to speak, "If there's anything else I can do, of course, you know where to find me, Sir." That would be Cidra, naturally. "But if you don't mind, Payback, I think I'll walk you back down to the hangar. Don't want your old bones falling apart on the stairs." Hey, you can't fault a young whippersnapper like Leyla from wanting to get every ounce of raptoring info out of an old salt.
"Payback'll do," Cincinnatus grunts in a friendly sort of way to Rose. Grinning as he goes. He gets to fly again. Albeit in a hulking freighter rather than something sleek and military. Still, he is a happy man. His grin just broadens at Leyla. "I'd right appreciate that, Sweets. You got time for a drink, I'll tell you how I ran things in the Caravans squadron, back in the good old days." And off he goes.
"So say we all," Damon echoes after Cidra. Cincinnatus is given a nod as he leaves. "Colonel. El-tee. See you soon." Relaxing a bit more, he leans back against a wall and stretches his neck from side to side. "I'm glad to provide a Deck perspective on everything anytime it's needed. There's nothing I'd love more than to see that freighter become self-sufficient and fully manned." He smiles and nods to Rose. "By the civilians, of course."
"I'm sure the more even-tempered civilians will welcome Navy presence, Andreas," Rose replies, although she can't help but contain her excitement, grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet. She shakes her head, beaming. "Over a million and a half cubic meters. That's enough to feed the fleet. I can't wait to see… erm, well, have someone tell me about the blueprints."
Sofia waves at the others. She especially looks happy at Cincinnatus and Leyla. "Be well, sirs." She beams. Then a headtilt. "I think we could do that," She considers Rose and Damon a moment. Otherwise, Sofia will wander off to resume Snipe'ing.
Cidra watches Leyla and old Cincinnatus go with a grin, if an ever-so-slight amused one. She clears her throat. "Getting it properly equipped for hydroponics, and full-time habitation, shall be a job I do imagine. I do not envy you that," Cidra says to Damon and Sofia. "In any case, your are dismissed if you have no further questions. I fear I cannot answer much more, but I do hope this endeavor comes out well for all of us." She'll slip back into her office lair, on that note.
A slow grin spreads across Damon's face to hear Rose's excitement. That there is the main reason why he's been working so hard on that freighter - not only to get the civilians off the hangar floor, not only to expand the fleet, and not only because he loves the work. Because he knew it would make Rose happy. "Why just settle for hearing about the blueprints?" he asks. "We could take you over there, you could…" Don't say 'see for yourself'. Don't say 'see for yourself'. "…explore the freighter as you wish." Whew.