PHD #162: The Ex-Cop MP
The Ex-Cop Marine
Summary: Cora begins recruiting for the IIG
Date: 7 August 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Cora Rufinus 
A place where people eat things at tables.
Post-Holocaust Day: #162

Cora arrives in the galley dressed in duty blues, though the neck is unbuttoned to denote off-duty-ness at the present moment. She forgoes the lunch line and heads instead to the counter from which coffee is dispensed, collecting a mug, black. She turns back to eye the room as she sips, gaze slipping from person to person as if looking for someone in particular. Then she finds it, and after weaving through tables, pulls out a chair opposite Rufinus. "Sergeant Chester Rufinus?" she asks by way of greeting.

Rufinus is indeed there. In the process of tearing open a third sugar packet, and pouring the contents into a steaming cup of coffee. No cream visible within it, just sugar crystals; and a distinct lack of food on either side. He looks up to the sound of the chair being pulled out, but straightens up at the mention of his name. His gaze takes in his current company for just a moment before he finds response. He nods, in broad enough movements as not to be mistaken. Voicing, "Sir," with sight of her rank as an officer. A formal enough greeting for an off duty marine who's not been called to attention.

Cora helps herself to a seat once the chair is drawn out, folding her tall frame into the space created with a combination of easy grace and military precision. Her accent, when she speaks, is all upper-class Caprican, no effort made to soften crisp diction into something more common. "Lieutenant Cora Nikephoros," she introduces herself, "Your name was suggested to me by one of your commanding officers as someone who would be suitable for an interdepartmental taskforce I am heading. I realize this is somewhat abrupt, but if you might give an overview of your particular experience and skillset so that I can determine whether you would be an asset, I would appreciate it."

There's a slight quirk of Rufinus's brows for what is said, though he nods to the name offered. He leans forward, placing his forearms on the table, while his hands wrap around his sugar addled cup o' joe. There's a brief silence on his part in visible consideration before he'd start. "Yeah," he starts. He takes up his cup of coffee in just the scarred right hand before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. Preperation, before he places it back down. "Yes, sir," he partially corrects himself. "Aside from a marine, I'm educated. Bachelor's degree in Criminology. Guess I could have joined as a officer too, for it. But that was after I resigned," he goes on to say in a sort of cautiously slow pace, his free hand now rotating as if in skipping over stuff. "Seven years with the Caprica City Police, too. With six of those as a detective. Narcotics, than homicide," he goes on to add. "I won't sell my marine years as an asset, though. Seven years of that. But we've got plenty of other veterans on board," he concludes.

Cora sips at her own coffee, the surface too inky black to've been improved with either sugar or cream though the lieutenant doesn't appear to notice the flavor, as vile as it is generally held to be. She just listens, blue-eyed gaze fixed on the marine as he describes his background, and finally nods. "I see," she replies, "Caprica City Police homicide detective," she repeats as if she finds it interesting, "Anything particularly high-profile I might have heard of?"

"Hard to imagine a murder in Caprica City not high-profile for a reason. In most neighbourhoods, you'd expect to see it in the media," Rufinus declares, though with a rather odd tone with the word 'expect'. He shrugs. "If not. There's a scandal involved. And when there's scandal, it's best to do things quiet. Unless you want others impeding the investigation, or manipulating the truth before you get there," he speaks out of experience, that odd tone proving to be a certain disdain for such obstruction once voiced further. There's some pause before he continues. "I didn't have any family on Caprica, so, towards the end I got attached to a few …serial cases. Worked with shrinks. People with doctorates in Psychology and Criminology. Though, that took me away from the city for the most part."

"True," Cora concedes of the relative infrequency of murder in the defacto capital of the colonies. She sips her coffee as he goes on, not commenting on scandal, nor the tendency by some to interfere in investigations that might damage public relations. The metal coffee mug is lifted for another long, quiet sip, and then she lifts a brow, "Serial cases. How interesting. And what made you give that up and re-enlist?"

Rufinus brings his coffee in closer, somewhat. A glance to it, before he tilts his head up once more in looking to Cora. "I'm a marine. I was on the verge of promotion before I left too. But civilian life. Being a cop. That was just proving something to myself," he states, in skirting the question, but answering it all the same, in the way of motivation. His voice solid, convincing. "Plus, a friend helped to nudge me back in the right direction," he adds, as if for validity in statement. "M-P. It's the same as being a cop though. Except that you're policing your own most of the time, and you have to expect them to be armed, if not just plain dangerous," he points out.

Cora listens to that response as well, keen gaze taking in the words he says and, from the looks of it, those he doesn't as well. Her lips purse very faintly, but she eventually nods, "Very well. I will be contacting you directly with regards to the committee. Bear in mind that its existence is strictly classified. Major Willows-Cavanagh is involved and other MPs will be as well, but until you see them at a meeting or receive confirmation from me directly, you are not to make any presumptions as to who is and who is not involved. All information is to be kept to yourself accordingly. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Rufinus answers, in nodding. He perks some too, with some curiosity present as to the mention of the Major. "I can do classified, confidential, and anything between the two," he declares. Rather calm, even as his state shines through as cautious and curious. He nods again as to the mention of taking precautions though, and as to the confidential bit he'd just agreed to. "I take it I'm to be in the dark about the nature of the task force at the first meeting?" he asks, those there's no disdain in his voice for this note. Just passive testing.

"This is all strictly need-to-know," Cora informs the marine, "And I've been assigned to decide who needs to know, so." Another sip of coffee, and she nods again at the question, "Until the first meeting, yes. As I said, need to know. There won't be any preparation necessary on your part prior to the first meeting, so you'll find out the committee's purpose then. That ought to be within the week, so you will not have to bear the suspense long," she says, lips slipping faintly sideways into something that approaches a smile.

Rufinus doesn't smile, there's a slight chuckle from his lips that could almost be considered a laugh though, as he nods. "Good. No homework than," he quips off handidly, tilting his head slightly forward in a sort of bowed agreement. "The suspense won't be a problem. Really," he starts on another note. "Until we start, consider me saying that this subject discussed," he pauses, turning the inside of his hand upward. "Was never discussed." Simple as that. He brings his sugary coffe to his lips.

"No homework yet," Cora confirms with a nod, watching him for a moment before she finishes her coffee and rises. "Perfect," she replies, "It was a pleasure not to meet you, Sergeant. Good afternoon." She tips him a nod of farewell, and heads off.

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