PHD #220: The Questioning
The Questioning
Summary: Corrath begins his investigation into the random assaults and threats, choosing Sawyer as his first victim.
Date: 4 Oct 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Corrath Sawyer 
News Room
This room isn't huge by any means, but it does have all the updated equipment and a small news staff that runs the area.
Post-Holocaust Day: #220

When Sawyer isn't nosing around the ship or (lately) spreading the gospel of a civilian government, she's typically holed up here in the News Room. Hell, there are even rumors that she sleeps in here the majority of the time. She occupies the back desk in the room which has since had two others pulled up to join in a u-shaped that sits in front of the entrance to the Dark Room. The desktop has a litany of computers and equipment on it, not to mention stacks of semi-organized papers. Right now, she's flipping through one of them, eyebrows knit together in the middle while she concentrates on her task. She must have been cooped up in here for a while, because she's forgone the crisp appearance she normally presents and has her blouse undone a few buttons, her sleeves rolled up, and her suspenders shrugged off her shoulders.

There's the familiar creek of a well used door as the hatchway to the news room slides open and after a brief moment, Corrath is making his way into view. Once the threshold of the door has been cleared, he's turning just enough to allow the hatchway to close behind him before turning back so that eyes can flit around the room, though they stop once they fall upon Sawyer. A step forward and he's giving a soft clearing-of-throat noise before offering, "Not disturbing you, am I, Ms. Averies?" Clad in his duty uniform, including the ever-indicating 'MP Band' and matching gun belt, one could safetly assume that the man is actually on duty.

Sawyer flicks her gaze up quickly, only to have it drop immediately back down to the stack of papers in her hands. "That depends, Lieutenant," Ah-ha, she's gotten quite good at identifying rank by now, "are you friend or foe?" No sooner are those words out of her mouth than she gives a triumphant, "Ah-ha!" It seems she's found whatever she was searching for, and indeed, the piece of paper is plucked from the others a momentarily fluttered about like some victory flag. "I really need an assistant. Yes, yes. I'm sorry, I'm Sawyer Averies. Just the last time someone asked me that, I was threatened and assulted. What can I do for you? Come on in, have a seat."

There's the hint of a smile as Corrath simply watches her claim the piece of paper and then wave it around like a victory flag. "I'm sure there'd be more then enough people interested in assisting you." The mention of sitting has him moving to one of the seats so that he can lower himself down onto it. "To answer your first question, ma'am, I'm a friend. Or so, that's how I'd like people to consider me." Hands come to clasp in his lap now. "Name's Corrath O'Hare. I'm the one responsible for security and intelligence aboard the Cerberus and it's those very assaults and threats that I'd like to speak with you about."

"Ah, well, O'Hare," Sawyer sits back in her desk chair, leaning it backwards with a flex of her foot on the floor, "if you don't mind saying, completely off the record, you're doing a piss poor job with security. Now, that said, let me amend that rather reproachful statement with an obligatory backhanded compliment, where I assure you it's not your fault, there's just simply too much to manage, too much ground to cover and far too many people to keep tabs on an around the clock basis. If you'd like to make a sound bite about your growing security measures, deepening concern for the ship and her occupants, and how you won't tolerate any more violent attacks on her people, I'll make sure to include it in the next newsletter."

There's a very faint chuckle that escapes Corrath's lips as his shoulders lift into the slightest of shrugs, "No offense taken, Ms. Averies. I'm not going to beat around the bush and claim that we have everything under control. We're understaffed and there's just far too many people and areas to monitor, for us to be one hundred percent effective." His unclasp and one hand lifts up to remove a package of smokes from his pocket, "You mind?" Even as the question is posed, he's removing a smoke and lighter from within the package, though he doesn't light it up. "I don't need to make a grand statement about what we're trying to do to contain the incidents. I wouldn't mind you indicating in your newsletter that the S2 and the MP division will no longer tolerate assaults on civilian or military personal. Those found to be involved in such actions will find themselves immediately detained and classified as war criminals, allowing for more severe penalties." The smoke is lifted, set between slightly part lips and still not lit. "But the main reason I'm here is because I want to know if you've heard anything about the assaults, in general, or if you can tell me anything about the individual who assailed you."

In answer to Corranth's question, Sawyer pitches forward with a groan of protest from her chair and makes a scissoring motion with her fingers towards the Lieutenant in a bumming gesture. She waits like that, arm extended, as she continues the conversation. "War criminals. Nice. Hopefully, you're not extending that towards simple displays of temper like that brawl not too long ago, or half of your MPs would be behind bars." A smirk touches one corner of her lips. "I've already met with Lance Corporal Kincaid to go through some photo arrays with him. You know, pictures of crew and some of the civilians that were registered with the ship under QUODEL, but I wasn't able to say for certain which one he was, if I saw his picture at all. I'm sorry, it's frustrating the Hades out of me, too. But I can only tell you a few vague details like his approximate height, hair color, and eye color which is average build, slightly taller than me. Dark hair, light eyes. It's practically driving me insane, trying to remember, but it all happened rather fast and as you can imagine, I was under a bit of stress at the time."

The scissoring motion of her fingers has him leaning forward, offering the opened end of the package to her so that she may claim a smoke for herself. Then, he's giving a quick shake of his head. "No, it will not apply to simple displays of temper. There's a difference between one losing their temper and physically seeking someone out to intimidate, threaten and assault." He's giving a pause then, brow lifting upwards before there's another nod of his head, "Those details will due nicely and will give us a base to start with. Of course, if you remember anything further, I'd ask that you seek out myself or Sergeant Constin, directly." Now, he's lifting the lighter and clicking it once. There's two quick puffs and once the smoke is lit, he's offering it to Sawyer. "As well, I'd like you to keep your ear to the floor. Chances are you'll hear things in passing that might be of interest to us. If so, I'd ask that you send any potential information through to my office."

"You mean before I spread it over the ship like wildfire in one of my articles." Sawyer's smirk splits to allow her to slip the claimed cigarette between her lips with a mumbled word of thanks some where in between. She opens a desk drawer and removes an old copper lamp-style lighter, which she sets down, leans over and pushes a button to spark her own smoke. She leaves it out in the open for the spout to cool before tucking it away. "Of course I'll cooperate fully and turn over any information I have in a timely manner. Before post. I have personal vested interest in catching this bastard."

Taking a long haul from the smoke, Corrath lifts one hand upwards to claim the cigarette before exhaling, upwards, towards the ceiling. Lips curve into the slightest of smirks as he gives a slow shake of his head. "I imagine you'll still hear things, even after said article. Which was one of my reasons coming down here. I know I can't cover the entire ship and be everywhere at once, so I'm asking a few people to simply keep their eyes and ears open, in case they should hear anything." There's a small pause as the S2 gives another nod. "And, as you've said, you've got a vested interest in this. We will catch those responsible, Ms. Averies, even if I have to drag every person down to the security hub to be questioned. My tolerance for these types of antics is limited."

Sawyer rubs the thumb of her cigarette hand over her bottom lip, her eyes glazed over in a thoughtful expression. "The term 'antics' is almost diminution. This man was very, very serious in his threats. And if truthful, there are more and the anti 'cylon-sympathizer' movement is growing. What a horrible thing to be accused of." The journalist waves away her mental cobwebs as well as the smoke gathering around her head with an impatient flap of her hand. "Ah well, I'm sure you'll catch them. It's only a matter of time before they slip up and are recognized."

"A movement such as that could only survive with a few members. If it continues to grow, it would eventually reach a size that would make it impossible to conceal aboard a vessel such as this." The smoke is lifted back to Corrath's lips, another haul taken from it before it's pulled away. "Can you tell me what threats were levied at you, Ms. Averies, so that I have them first hand and not filed in some report? Also, if we narrowed down our list of suspects, do you think you would be able to identify the individual based on their voice?"

"I think faced with him again, I could identify him, yes. But that's just grandstanding on my part, I don't know for certain what I'm capable of until faced with that particular situation. Hold on, I have my notes here on the encounter somewhere. Paper is far more reliable than memory…" Sawyer tucks her cigarette in the corner of her lips to free her hands to search for yet another piece of paper. Maybe the journalist should invest some face time with Supply to get a proper filing cabinet. And that assistant they were talking about. "Um. Just generic things, it looks like." She's found the note and now reads from it. "We're going to be — and by we, I mean so-called sympathizers — are going to be held accountable for our actions. To watch our asses or we'll end up like Coll. And then there was some mention of an airlock."

"I'll keep that in mind, then, should someone of interest come to our attention fitting the general description that you've given." Corrath then waits a moment, allowing her to retrieve the paper and when she begins to read from it, his brow lifts ever so slightly before he gives another nod of his head. "Alright. Good to know." The smoke is returned to his lips, another haul taken of the almost burned out smoke. "During the investigation of this, I may come to you with information to post in your newsletter, if you don't have an issue with it."

"On the contrary, I always appreciate new sources. I just ask that you don't use me as some sort of mouthpiece for propaganda, because once I catch on, I won't be a very happy Sawyer." The journalist fluidly ashes her cigarette and 're-files' her notes on the attack in a sheaf of papers that looks like her handwritten memos on things. "Thank you for stopping by, Corrath. I'll be sure to keep you in the loop."

There's a flash of a smile before Corrath gives a slight bow of his head, "Don't worry Ms. Averies, I'm not one for propaganda. The information I'll ask you to release will only be related to investigations and designed in a fashion to assist in furthering them." Rising from the seat that he'd occupied, he gives a simple nod of his head. "Thanks for your time. Should you recall anything further, please don't hesitate to stop by my office. Good day." That said, he's turning and beginning to make his to the hatch

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