PHD #363: Shoulda Been Charlie
Shoulda Been Charlie
Summary: Just how far is Lysander willing to go.
Date: 24 Feb 2042 AE
Related Logs: Moar recruiting.
Lysander Vandenberg 
Training Room
A little taller than most rooms, this one was able to find some space under a section of Engineering that didn't require it. Overhead from the deck is a small catwalk where observers can watch the goings-on below them between the shift able walls. Nominally, set up for training in urban terrain, the course offers a variety of different training grounds with the different configurations including homes, offices and even battlestar corridors. All ammunition used in this area is paint or laser and as the signs repeat on every wall, the use of lead ammunition is a violation of Naval Regulations.
Post-Holocaust Day: #363

Dog Platoon is running a few raw recruits through drills today. There is gunfire abound on the MOUT range as the 'maggots' learn how to clear hallways and work as a team. Vandenberg is up on the catwalk to supervise the whole scenario. She's dressed in her combat blacks with a bright orange whistle dangling from around her neck. Lysander would have been sent word that she needed to see him down here. Afterall, gunfire is a good mask for a conversation that doesn't need to be overheard. Access to the catwalk is by an unassuming stair at the end near the entrance. "TOO GODSDAMNED SLOW!" she belts. "You people make me frakking SICK! Every time you fall under three minutes you will do this course TWICE to make up for it!" Another sharp bleat of the whistle. "Reset and go from my mark!"

It's not a long and dangerous walk from the shooting range to the training area: Lysander has proven himself skilled in the area of navigation, managing record times as he enters the spacious chamber. There's only a brief glance given from his current vantage point before he begins to scale a staircase in order to place himself above and beyond the reach of those within the training area. With approaching Vandenberg, the marksman clears his throat and offers a casual salute, if only because it's hard for others to make out his off-duty browns given his angle amongst the catwalks. "You rang, sir?"

The Marine recruits shuffle into position, shouting at each other in their own ways to get things moving and be more cohesive. The Lieutenant smiles inwardly. A unit coming together. They might actually make it. "GO!" Van's thumb hits a stopwatch in her hand and she looks back towards Lysander to tap her temple. "As you were, Sergeant." The gunfire starts picking up quickly. "I wanted to talk to you about something. I spoke with Gunnery Sergeant Constin last night and explained our situation. I'm going straight to Pewter with my operation request to drop a small team on Gemenon." The recruits pile through a doorway properly, firing down a hallway at targets. "We're expecting Pewter to deny it. You ready to put your money where your mouth is about going the distance?" There's absolutely no way they could be heard by anyone else except each other. Even a microphone would just lose their voices in all the racket.

There's a thoughtful little noise that escapes from the depths of his throat. The marksman's not particularly sure if that's done with the counter-reply of hers that lets him at ease or her incoming words; either way, he inclines his head to the side as he looks to the group below. "If you're expecting to get denied, then I'm betting you already have a plan on how to hijack a Raptor or two, at least," Lysander begins o fold his arms over the breadth of his chest before stiffly nodding. Again, he isn't sure who this gesture is directed to: himself and his thoughts, or the Lieutenant's words. "Yeah," he answers, "I'm ready. It's for humanity, after all."

Vandenberg checks the stopwatch and leans against the railing. "They've already shaved off a minute in four rounds," she asides to herself. Momma Marine is Happy. She wets her lips, letting Lysander wonder about what she has in mind for a few moments longer. "Good. Glad to hear you're ready to risk it all." She sniffs, swiping a thumb at her nose. "And you're right. I've already got a plan coming down to steal a Raptor. The problem is finding Aircrew willing to help us. I have a pilot but can't say who. But the Master at Arms is aware of this plan." A highly illegal plan. "He wants in. Damned near demanded it." She keeps her eyes on the door and the people people as they fire away.

"They just want you to get your boot from being shoved so far up their asses, which is workin' well for them." As much as Lysander is amused, he's also rather impressed. The moment that passes after Vandenberg leans against the railing is just about when he decides to do the same, lifting his chin a bit in order to try and peer downrange to the training. He offers a sidelong glance when she picks back up with the conversation, her initial response fetching another nod from him. Risk at all? Sure. "If you've got half of a crew, it can't be hard to get the other one by now. But I'm glad to hear Constin's in - anyone else worth mentioning?"

"The only thing that will remove this boot from their asses will be them behaving like Marines. They're getting there, though. A few more weeks." Vandenberg crosses her arms and checks the stopwatch. "Yep. I need to talk to this pilot's ECO tonight to see what their level of commitment might be. If they are up for it, we've got a Raptor. As for anyone else? Not yet. I'm going to talk to Richards. That makes four of us. If you have an idea for a fifth I'm up to hear suggestions but that will max our load. We'll each be hauling 300 pounds for a HALO jump. Space in that Raptor will be non-existent with more than five."

Lysander takes to a low whistle under his breath. "Good luck on that, with the ECO. Just, uh, that's a lot riding on a cobbled together fire-team too. I've seen it done before but sometimes you almost make me worry. Almost," he points out. The fates will protect them though, same as their collective skill. He's quiet for a lingering moment as his mind sifts through the bits of information relevant to the conversation. His right hand comes up to pinch and rub at the bridge of his nose. "What's our drop zone?"

"That is a lot. But I'm not relying on the Gods to keep us safe. Between us we have the skills to pull this off. Though I did forget to mention the other one who will be joining us." Vandenberg glances to Lysander. "Special Agent Apollonaris. We will need a religious and local guide for what we see down there. The Sister isn't an option. Charis has experience and is not a stranger to danger, apparently." She keeps her eyes on the men and women while they move and fire. "Looking at possible sites but the intel we've got is old as hell. If its still heavily guarded we may not have an option. We may just have to jump from wherever we can. I just started looking last night."

"Oorah," is murmured with regards to their skills. He then adjusts his weight back and forth before resting his forearms against the railing at a more comfortable position. His readied reply is fairly simple. "It's fine by me if the Agent wants to tag along. Not that I care for religious babble on an extended basis, but those're the breaks and what we're dealing with." He trails off momentarily and leans somewhat to the side, closer to Vandenberg. "If we're doing a high-alt drop, who's training the Agent beforehand? I don't want any deadweight if we're going in beyond just behind enemy lines."

"Her and I had a long talk about her involvement in this op. We're calling it 'Cowboy' for now. She is to follow our orders without question. She will do what we say, when we say. She doesn't know this but I won't stand for someone trying to stop us there. We do what we have to do, Sergeant." Vandenberg gives the man a -look-. Go any distance, do horrible things. Those were her words. "Let me worry about training her. We won't be able to give her much more than a quick rundown before we fly, though. It'll be dangerous for her but apparently she has done some skydiving before. Not the same, but the principles are still there."

Garret glances over again, "Oh yeah? Well then, so long as she knows all of that she's more than welcome to tag along with this - uh - Operation Cowboy." He finds something about the name amusing but for the time being doesn't particularly elaborate on that subject; no, instead, Lysander lifts his right hand's thumb. "You get the Agent, no problems here, sir. Anything else you need me for?"

"She's been made aware. There won't be any problems." Its about now that the gunfire dies down and the Lieutenant checks the stopwatch. "Man, I am going to be here all damned night." She sighs and looks back to Lysander. "No, I think that's about it. Just wanted to make sure you were understood. I'm putting you in charge of weapons selection and armaments. I want a list by tomorrow night. I'll have a listing of everyone's weight for you tonight so we can start assigning kit." This is going to happen. She's serious. "Dismissed at your leisure, Sergeant."

"Should've went with Charlie. I'm five by five though, thanks for the update." Lysander then clears his throat and begins to stand up into the fullness of his height, smoothing over the front of his shirt in the process. "Will do," is near-immediately mentioned with regards to equipment loadouts. He can cover that much easily enough. After rubbing over his brow with his right hand it turns into a brief salute and he turns to leave. "I'll leave you to your mutts. Have a good one."

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