PHD #092: Two Down, One To Go
Two Down, One To Go
Summary: Coll meets with the CAG, then directly afterward, Byrne — the Shrink.
Date: 29 May 2041 AE
Related Logs: Coll Fire, Put Up or Shut Up
Cidra Byrne Coll 
Main Brig
Tiny and cramped, the Main Brig seems designed to be claustrophobic. The steel bars lining the three cells have been set into the steel bulkheads on each side. Inside each cell is a stainless steel toilet and a bunk that might be too short for some of the taller crewmembers. The dreary conditions don't seem to be helped by the presence of a Marine guard who is there twenty-four hours a day, as long as a prisoner is in custody. The whole room is under surveillance via camera system in the Security Hub and every visitor must sign-in and abide by the rules.
Post-Holocaust Day: #92

Coll has been up for a bit. She's already been to the showers much earlier this morning and been changed out of her Deck coveralls and traded them for the duty greens. She finally looks cleaned-up and ready. Sitting on the edge of her bunk, she's got her hands clasped with her elbows on her knees. Hunched forward a bit, there's a potential energy there that sure wasn't when Cid saw her last. And cetainly not the same hopelessness there was last time.

Cidra is shown back to Coll's cell by a handy Marine. Hands laced behind her back. Expression inscrutable, as is par for the course with her, save an extra hint of flintiness in her blue eyes. "Specialist. I received your letter. And also your message relayed to me by Ensign Weber. But as you seem to want to lay this out to me yourself, speak. Please."

The Major is in and Coll is up and standing tall in her cell, ready at attention. She takes a deep breath when she hears about Weber and nods. "Aye, sir. Thank you. I hope Ensign Weber wasn't too much trouble. What he spoke to you about was at his leisure and not my explicit request, sir." A hard swallow. "Major Hahn, I wanted to take a moment to explain myself a little better than I had the other day, if the Major will hear me out?"

Cidra just keeps regarding Coll. "I am here to hear what you have to say, Specialist, otherwise I would not have come. Now, I say again, speak."

The Specialist clears her throat and nods, her posture still ramrod straight. "Sir. There is absolutely nothing I could have done to save those aircrew. I believe the evidence that will be presented will show that I did everything I could to try and alert the Chief as soon as I knew the warhead was missing. I know what I did was wrong and there is nothing that will change the past. Second-guessing my prior actions is your luxury, sir, but its my past I have to live with and know that I'm at least partially responsible for what happened - even if in an indirect way. Its a mistake that I cannot repeat ever again even if I wanted to. I couldn't deal with this twice, sir. But I do believe you are correct in charging me with Dereliction of Duty, though not for the reasons you cite." There's a hard determination to her eyes and voice. More truth ready to slide out?

Cidra just listens in silence. Quiet is something that makes some people uncomfortable. Not the CAG. She just listens to Coll.

Coll still doesn't look at the CAG. She's all protocol. "Sir. I wasn't even on duty on the deck when that Raptor went out. I was off-shift, working volunteer hours. I put down as many hours as I possibly could because I had one intention: I wanted to develop a proven work ethic and value to the ship, Major. And if these charges against me are prosecuted and I'm rolled out of the Navy for them, then there is nothing else that I, nor you, can do. We both know I'll never be able to touch a Raptor again, sir. But Major, I used to be an ECO. Seven years with VAQ - One-twenty-nine, sir. Warlocks, sir. I had been considering coming back to the fold after I finished ordnance check-outs on the items we recovered from Parnassus. I still had a bit more to do, sir. Unfortunately, there is no way I can prove any of this without having access to pilots and/or sims. But its the truth, so help me Gods."

"Ah." It is exhaled short at the end of all that. Cidra continues to watch Coll, waiting for anything more forthcoming before she properly responds. "Do you have anything more, Specialist?"

Frustration flickers at the edge of her expression and she takes another breath. "Sir. I want to know if there is some way I can prove myself worthy of coming back to the Wing. I don't expect open arms or ticker tape, Major, nor do I think I deserve it. I packed-up pilots and ECO's into Raptors and sent them off on missions when I should have been doing it myself. That, particularly, sir, is where I believe I have been incredibly derelict in my duties. What I would like, sir, is some direction from you. Some way for me to prove that I am worth your Raptors. I'm probably never going to be allowed freedom on the Deck again, sir, so my options are limited without your orders, sir." She clenches her jaw quickly, swallowing once more. Its dry in here. "Please, sir. Anything."

"Firstly, your career goals are, perhaps, not the best thing to be bringing to me at this time, Specialist," Cidra says, drawling alto a little clipped. "I do not do my recruiting in the brig. We need Deck hands. We need ECOs. Serve as best you can. That is a matter we can sort out later if your interest is sincere and your skills, both in countermeasures and as an officer, are up to the task. Know that I do not think the service of the Deck less than that of the Wing, and I have little use for those who do. Do your duty, Specialist. That is all I ever demand of anyone."

Another gentle clench of her jaw while she bites back an argument and she takes a deep breath. "So no matter what, sir, I should just take it? Whatever I have coming? Even if I get stripped of my uniform? I *want* to serve, sir. Its all I've ever wanted. I just don't know how to anymore. Or will that be up to those at the hearing?"

"If you are looking for me to wave a hand and make all of this go away because you say you want to be an ECO, Specialist, you have read me most wrong," Cidra says. "I would do this same to any of my people in the same situation. Perhaps you did nothing wrong. If so, you will have a chance to speak for yourself after this has been fully investigated. Given all that is going on upon the Deck at this time, all things must be seen out to their fullest. And yes, Specialist, you take it as it comes. If you did your duty true, then things should not fall hard upon you."

"Sir, like I said in the note, I have no intention of asking you to waive my charges. I agree with them to a certain extent, even. I don't think telling you anything is going to get them waived, regardless. I just ask that something be done to keep them from taking my uniform. Its my pride and honor, sir." Coll purses her lips. "I know at this hearing a lot will come out that wasn't fully explained before and I hope its more of a pleasing surprise than it was with what you heard for Corporal Constin, sir. All I'm asking for is a chance to prove that my application might be worth looking at down the line. I know its a bad time and situation right now, sir, but I couldn't wait." She pauses, briefly flickering her eyes to Cidra. "Major. I'm terrified they'll take my uniform from me. I just wanted you to know that before this goes through."

"What comes will come," Cidra says. And that seems to be all the more she has to say on the matter, really. "If you did nothing wrong, then the truth will out. Now, I have duties to attend to. Is there anything else you did want to say to me, Specialist Coll?"

A shaky breath taken and the woman still hasn't moved otherwise. "No, sir. Thank you for listening, Major Hahn. If this was an inconvenience then you have my sincerest apologies." Coll lifts her hand to her temple.

"Face this like an officer in the Colonial Fleet," Cidra says simply. "I do wish this finds your faultless, Specialist. I truly do. The truth will out." And with that, she turns to go, striding out of the brig from whence she came.

Cidra has left.


Byrne has arrived.

After her meeting with the CAG, Coll's not in the best of places. It could be worse, though. She's in a set of green duty gear and sitting on the bed in her cell. Leaned forward, the woman hugs herself as stares at the floor blankly. There's already a chair set-up outside the cell so she probably knows someone is coming - just not who it might be. At least she's not talking to herself or anything. Just..beside herself.

And indeed someone does come, though it is someone few in the military would recognize at all. Dr. Byrne shows his id to the guards on duty, and moves past them towards the holding cell, and the chair set up outside of it. For a time, all that would be heard by the detainees would be the sound of footsteps and then an odd third step. It is accounted for when he comes into view by the cane he uses to aid in his movement. There's a pause in his actions as the Dr. arrives before the chair, considering it for a few moments. His gaze shifts then to the cell and Dr. Byrne slides himself onto the seat with a bit of difficulty, the leg and all, and he leans the cane up against the side of the chair. And there he sits, silently, gaze now set on Coll inside the cell.

The Specialist's face looks up before her eyes leave the ground. When she finally looks at him, her brow furrows and she sits up a little straighter, though its almost as if she leans away from him at seeing his manner of dress. "Who're you?" She already seems defensive about it. She doesn't know him and isn't expecting any visitors.

When she speaks, Dr. Byrne retrieves a small leather bound notebook from his inner jacket pocket and a pen to go along with it. He opens the book and peers down at a page for just a moment, "My name is Doctor Byrne, I'm a medical attache for the crew. I've been assigned to review your case." And with that said he looks up from his notebook, offering a faint smile, "I suppose we should begin with my asking whether or not you feel I should be here."

Coll slowly rises from the bed and faces the man, backing away a bit more. "You're a frakking shrink, aren't you?" Eyes wide, there's fear there. Its all over her body language. "Hell no I don't think you should be here. I don't even want to talk to you." Even though she probably doesn't have much choice. And she knows it. "The CAG tell you I needed a Doctor? Corporal Constin?" There's a little anger there, too.

"While not my preferred vernacular, I am indeed a Psychiatrist." Byrne begins, leaning back in the seat a bit as he continues to focus his attention on Coll. Few details escape the man's perceptive gaze, though he is well trained in the art of reading people. "Well, you certainly don't have to talk to me, Specialist. And I haven't spoken with the CAG, nor Corporal Constin. Dr. Bia gave me your file, and asked me come down and speak with you. So while we could certainly sit here in silence, I think it might be in your best interest if you took the time to speak to me."

"You've gotta be frakking kidding me, right?" Coll lifts both her hands, running her fingers through her hair over the top of her head as she turns her eyes from him. Very scared. "You realize that if I say something you don't like or take the wrong way then I am completely screwed, right? I won't have a chance at anything approaching a career ever again! Just by talking to you.. GodsDAMNIT!" she cringes and tenses. "Why does this shit happen to me?" the woman sighs quietly, desperation creeping back into her voice. That stress is back in full force. "Fine. Whatever. Ask me me about my parents or whatever the hell it is you people do." Arms outstretch and she leans against the wall as if it might provide her with additional moral support.

Hositility is something that Dr. Byrne is used to. And she isn't entirely wrong, afterall, his report could affect her career. "I'm not here on a witchhunt, Specialist. I'm simply here to assess the situation, and see if I can offer you and help or support." While he's speaking, he scribbles down a few notes in his little notebook and then looks up, "Do you think your parents are relevant to the situation at hand?" There's something akin to a smirk on his lips with that, "I'm more interested in how you are feeling than I am your parents. So how about we start with the statement you just made, about this shit happening to you. What did you mean by that?"

"How could my parents possibly be relevant. They're dead." There's some bite to Coll's words. Probably a good thing that she isn't looking at him to see the smirk. With his last, she closes her eyes and hangs her head on the lean. "Look, I frakked-up and hid something I shouldn't have. But before that, someone is trying to frame me for blowing up Raptor three-oh-five. Worst part is? Some of the people on the Deck believe it. I've had people whispering shit at me, calling me a murderer, accusing me of being responsible, and all that crap. I didn't do anything!! I just went to work, did my godsdamned job, and I get shit all over for it. I've got a suspicious past, nobody I would call a real friend, and the only people who seem to show me support are the pilots that I work for.. If I had just kept my mouth shut and not bothered with the truth then none of this would have happened!"

Byrne doesn't seem to touch the comment on her parents. He takes a few more notes here, and there. Little things really. Frankly, anyone not in the military has a suspicious past. "What did you hide, and more importantly, why did you feel the need to hide it?" There's a quick pause offered and he glances up from his notes, "And do you know who has been whispering about you? As in, have you heard them directly, or is it second hand knowledge?"

"Augh." She really doesn't want to have to explain this again. "I can't go into too much detail about it because you're not military. You want to be cleared to know details, that's something you'll have to take up with someone else." She swallows and turns, collapsing heavily onto the bed. "I hid evidence and didn't tell anyone about it because the evidence made me look guilty as hell. I've got no past that I can verify because I came off Picon Anchorage right before the Cerb pulled away from the dock. Nobody can verify who I am. And I'm a thirty-one year old Specialist. If I were an enlisted, I should be at least a Petty Officer. So there isn't a lot of trust there to start with." She sighs, leaning her face into her hands. "I'm the perfect target. If I'm convicted, its not like I'm apart of this crew from the viewpoint of quite a few. And I heard these claims directly. So did Corporal Constin. People walking by me while I'm working. In the enlisted bunks. Nobody ever threatened me directly but I started sleeping in Raptors for a few hours a night. I was afraid someone might come after me in the bunks. I don't want this shit." A long sigh. "I just wanna go back to work and be left alone."

Clearly something to confirm with said Corporal, so more notes are then jotted down as the Dr. offers a mild nod in reaction to her comments. "And was it the hiding of evidence and such that landed you in the brig?" There's a slow pause and he considers the Specialist for a few moments before commenting, "It's clear that you feel very frustrated right now, for obvious reasons. Why don't we talk a bit about what was going on in your life before the accusations began? You mentioned not really having many friends. Were you exaggerating?"

"I have no idea why exactly I'm here. CAG laid charges of Dereliction of Duty on me. What that specifically cites to, I don't have a godsdamn clue. Maybe hiding the evidence. Maybe something else. Frakked if I know. I'm trying to get out of here, not show people that I need my charges read to me." Frustration might be an understatement for Coll. "Before all this shit? Everything was fine. I mean, other than dealing with the loss we -all- dealt with, I wasn't a special case. I laughed, smiled, and did my damned job like everyone else. Maybe even more-so." Those hands rub at her face. "I wasn't exaggerating. Most of my free time, I volunteer to pick up extra shifts on the Deck. I work mornings, usually go back and sleep in my bunk, then come back and work Swing and overnights. I don't get a ton of personal interaction because I've been trying to prove my frakking worth around here. I wanted to get back into Raptors so I've been putting down as many hours as I can. Doesn't really lend itself to a social life - which is fine with me. I don't need one. I -like- spending time by myself as long as I have something to occupy my mind. I just wanna go back to life before this whole godsdamn mess."

"Have you ever considered the possibility that your lack of social interaction may be a part of this perceived animosity towards you from the other crew?" Not much for bedside manner, is this shrink? Right to the point. "As to why you are in here, I can see about having a chat with the CAG to determine what is going on. Unfortunately you getting out of here depends largely on why you are in here. It's only logical to want to know how you were derelict in your duties." And once more a few notes are jotted down. "So tell me about your life before Warday. Did you have meaningful relationships then? Romantic or otherwise."

"I'm not a child, Doctor." Coll looks back towards Byrne. "I know what social interaction means about as well as you know that there are completely normal people who just don't go out a lot or have active social lives. It doesn't make me ill. Just means I'm comfortable with myself." She shakes her head and looks back across the room and away from him. "Leave the CAG alone. I'm not trying to piss her off anymore than I already have. I'll face my charges on my own and deal with them when I have the opportunity. As for my life before Warday?" She shrugs, looking up towards the ceiling. "Born in a small town. I escaped to join the Navy. I was an ECO in Raptors for almost seven years. Got promoted to Lieutenant. I screwed up when I was drunk and did something infinitely stupid. Faced my charges, begged to be allowed to stay in the Navy, and they agreed. I got sent to Deck detail and transferred to Picon Anchorage. Then the Cylons showed up about six months later. Now I'm here."

"Do people often accuse you of being a child?" Oh shrink games. Take every little read people make into their intentions and turn it around. Unfortunately it's often fairly accurate as a means of asking questions. "And I've found that very few people are actually normal. That being said, many people function without being social. I wouldn't personally consider it healthy, but there are certainly those who prefer to be alone." He jots down a few more notes before asking again, "And you've yet to comment regarding your previous relationships. Did you have any sustained relationships before finding yourself on the Cerberus?"

"Doc, if you turn shit like that on me again, I'm not going to say another damned word and then you can shove that notepad up your ass for all I care. And no, people don't accuse me of being a child." The frustration and anger is rising in her again with that question. This is probably torture for her. The tension in her body is visible with every movement. "Fine. Nobody is normal. Whatever. Then normal is just unhealthy and therefore not normal by definition. Gods, how the frak do you expect me to talk to you if you wanna take everything at values like this?" She growls, taking two fistfulls of hair against her head. "Fine, yeah, relationships. I flew with the same pilot for five years. I'd call that probably the strongest and best relationship I've had outside of blood relations. I was pretty close with everyone else in my squad, too. Ain't unusual. Just how it is. And no, it wasn't romantic with my pilot. But I like the freedom of not being attached or married. I've dated on and off before. Mostly while I was in my old squadron. Not since I got sent to Picon Anchorage. I was either movin' around too much or just wasn't interested in anyone."

Tests, tests, tests, all day long…Byrne offers a faint nod, not seeming to react to her hightened sense of frustration or anger at all, just jotting down a few more notes into his notepad before looking back up, "So it wasn't really until this incident that resulted in your being removed from your chosen profession that things changed for you? And I don't mean changed in regards to your circumstances, I mean in regards to your emotional attachments." His lips twist for a few moments while he considers his next words, and speaks after said consideration, "I want you to understand my purpose here. I'm not here to harm your career, or get you into more trouble. Nor am I here to get you out of trouble. I don't particularly care what the military wants me to find out. My goal is to help you figure out what's at the root of all this stress you are under. Whether it's being caused entirely by the current issues at hand, or if previous issues are playing into it as well."

"My attachments changed because I was removed from my profession, yes. I was reassigned duty stations three times in a span of about sixteen months. Actually, no, four. Including Cerberus. Not a lot of time for friends and attachments when part of that was going through another hearing and another was tech school for Deck. I believe that if you want something bad enough, you frakking work hard for it until its just not possible any longer. All I ever wanted was to be in the Navy and get out of my hometown. That's why I begged to stay on, even as an enlisted." Coll's eyes fall with the rest of what he says and she looks to her lap again. Fingers play with the seam on her pants while he speaks. She takes the time to control her response and its quiet when it finally comes back. "The root of this stress is my being framed for something I didn't do. Being accused and hated for doing my job. I show up every day, even after I was being accused, and work as hard as I can. I believe in what we are doing. I believe in the honor and duty we have to each other. I believe that what I'm doing is important. Having all of that potentially stripped from me for something like having a work and moral ethic? Its about the worst fate I can imagine."

There's a long pause as the Specialists words are considered, the Doctor watching her for several long moments. He closes the note book and offers a small nod towards her, "Then you have reason for the stress to exist. Unfortunately, it isn't something that can be resolved easily. This will likely affect your mental state even after the situation is resolved." He doesn't write any of this down now, placing the small book on his lap. "I believe that your duress is appropriate for the situation."

Coll doesn't visibly respond for a few long moments. When she does, she only continues playing with the hem on her pants. "I don't want pity, Doc. I want out of here. I want to go back and do my job." Her face twitches towards what might have been a smile but the humor and life just isn't there. "How this effects me in the long term is out of my hands. That'll probably be up to the hearing. I can't handle being stripped of my uniform, though. Being docked back more and even my work possibly being limited is going to cause problems for me. I can't sit in a bunk on my free time and just deal with it. I need this. I know I have some support but being relegated to nominal shit isn't something I can accept. I appreciate that you understand I'm under a lot of stress, but I just want out of here. Be left alone to proceed with what I've been doing. I told the CAG I wanted to ECO again. She didn't seem entirely interested. Just..get me out of here. Please."

The Doctor holds back the beginnings of a sigh and offers a quick nod to Coll. He snatches up his cane, and stuffs the notebook back into his pocket. It takes him an extra moment to stand, using his cane for support and he offers a half smile, "I'm not offering pity. Just my opinion. I'll have a sit down with the CAG, CMO and whoever else to try and get this all resolved before a formal hearing. I'll be back in the future to talk again, even if it's just a chance for you to vent your frustration onto the demeaning shrink."

"Just don't bother the CAG too much with this. I don't think she's in a mood to deal with me. I'm not even her responsibility. Chief Atreus is just really busy." Coll clears her throat and just nods to the rest without looking up. "Fair enough. See you then, Doc."

"Don't worry, I have a way with people." Byrne replies with an a smirk and then starts to amble off down the hallway. Yeah, a way with pissing them off.

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