PHD #423: You Tellin Me?
You Tellin Me?
Summary: Vandenberg interviews Decumius for the possible Gemenon Op.
Date: 25 Apr 2042 AE
Related Logs: Anything with going to Gemenon
Decumius Vandenberg 
S-2's Office
Shag carpeting, mirrors on the ceiling, hookah in the corner near the beanbag chairs.
Post-Holocaust Day: #423

Decumius would have been notified via runner that he was to report to the S-Two's office straight away. Drop what you're doing and go. The door is left cracked, an unsaid invitation to enter normally. Once inside, that is definitely not Lieutenant O'Hare sitting at his desk. Lieutenant Vandenberg has taken up the space with a cup of coffee, a clipboard full of notes, and a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray nearby. She's still on Light Duty after the injuries sustained more than a week ago and thus wearing her duty greens with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows. She looks fairly serious so this probably isn't a chit-chat session - as if the note wasn't enough of a clue.

Decumius was doing some sort of workout, or he was sprinting around after criminals. It's likely the former, given the fact that the rifle he carries is unloaded and he's got what appears to be metal weights in his load bearing vest. He's pouring sweat, but has the presence of mind to come to attention at the door. "Sir?"

Vandenberg looks up at his appearance in the doorway. "Shit. I hope O'Hare keeps an air freshener in here." She holds his eyes for a moment before continuing. She takes up the smoke and gestures to the door. "Shut it and sit your ass down in the chair." The fingers fix their aim from the door to the chair in front of the desk. "Got a few questions for you that I need answered. Specifically about your loyalty. I'll tell you up front this is not a legal interview for charges of any kind. As you know, I'm a military police officer, but I leave that business to the Master at Arms. You make speak freely. I may or may not be able to answer anything. Got anything for me before we begin?" She seems pretty straight about it not being charges. There's not malice to her words, either. If there were serious questions to his loyalty likely she'd be a little more angry.

"Huh?" Asks Decumius, his expression bearing both the ordinary pains of exhaustion from whatever he's been doing, as well as a rather perplexed look. "Uh…" He shuts the door, obviously caught off balance by the question, then takes a seat. "Now listen sir, I don't now what you've heard about me, but I abide by my oath. Haven't done anything but my job since I got here, right?"

The officer takes a drag on her cigarette while he speaks, her green eyes watching him over the crinkle of burning tobacco. "Corporal if you had been frakkin around, thumbin your colon like some shitbrick, trust that I'd have personally crawled up your ass for it and set charges. We ain't here about that or anything close." She ashes the smoke into the tray, the woman's Canceran accent sliding lazily across her voice. "What're your thoughts on the Cylons that have supposedly helped this fleet in the past? Be honest. Trust me, you don't want to screw with me on this one."

"I think, like always, things are a lot more complicated than they seem at first, sir." Says Corporal Lucius Decumius, finally relaxing a bit. He wipes the sweat off his face with his sleeve, and continues. "My grandparents grew up during the self titled Great War, when our planet was humbled and humiliated by other colonies. They didn't like the idea of Leonis calling the shots, I guess. My parents grew up during the Cylon War. Both were all out war. I didn't grow up during these eras, even if the manual didn't change much when I was going through basic. I grew up in an era of insurgencies, guerrilla warfare, political conflict. The way we won the Insurgency on Sagittaron was in part through making friends with our former enemies. Drawing off the moderates from the extremists. I don't see this in black and white, sir. Sometimes people realize they've gone too far, and look for a way out."

Vandenberg watches the man intently, her whole form very still. When he finishes the silence lingers in the room while the tendrils of smoke rise towards the room's vent. "You're telling me you'd be willing to collaborate with a declared enemy? To work with the very machines that put yours and my own family at ten thousand degrees in the blink of an eye? You're telling your platoon leader and the Corps' last remaining operations officer that we don't know enough and that it isn't cut and dry?" There's no hate or spite in her eyes. She's giving him a chance to reverse himself if he should so choose.

"I'm pretty sure I worked with people on Sagittaron, surrendered insurgents, who a week, a month, a year before had been shooting at me and my friends. Laying bombs. Setting razor wire booby traps that took people's legs off. Killing them. This is war, sir. You do what works, not what's tasteful to you. If the aim is victory, then you take the best route to it." Says Decumius. His voice and expression betray the experience that he speaks from. "That's right. We don't have all the information. If I have to work with Toasters to achieve victory for the Fleet, for our race, then that's what I'll do. If I die doing it, then so be it."

He adds, "And, if I'm told to swarm those Cylons and kill them, I'll do that too."

The Marine S-Three keeps her eyes steady on him until she finishes and she looks back to the pad of paper in front of her. The mug of coffee is reached for and she takes a sip. "Interesting." Its muttered flatly. She's quiet for a few more moments while she reads. "My notes say you're recon trained. You had a lot of experience with close contact with insurgents of questionable intent?" Natalie still doesn't look up, opting to take another drag of her smoke.

Decumius nods at Vandenberg. "I was recon trained as soon as I finished my AIT. Did the course with a bunch of Lance Corporals and Corporals, I was the only Private there. My first tour was in a rifle company, my second and… third, if you can call it that, were part of my battalion's recon platoon. I was on Op Market Cage on my first tour, and Ops April Lightning and Phoenix Rise on my second tour."

Vandenberg nods once and looks back up. "I was there from '27 to '34. Cage was after my time, but I know the fight. I was Seventy-Third Mountain." No secret she was a tunnel rat, either. Rough goin. "So you've got no problem dealing with people who may or may not be friendly, correct? At a distance I'm assuming you can control yourself. If that's incorrect, best speak up." She looks back to his file, ashing her smoke into the tray. "If you have orders to secure your weapon without any extension on said orders and your ROE is cut to hold fire for any reason ..and an insurgent draws down on you, what's your move?"

"Get the fuck out of dodge, obviously. Or talk my way out of it. I'm not usually good at that part. Or use a knife." Decumius grins.

Van looks back up at Decumius. "You joking about the knife or you serious?" She, apparently, isn't kidding.

"Depends highly on the situation, sir." Answers Decumius.

Vandenberg looks back at Decumius with hard eyes. "I'm not frakking around here, Corporal. I'm not gonna split hairs on orders about following the spirit or the letter. Not on this subject. Be advised, if you finish this interview and get an offer, I will personally shoot the son of a bitch who fraks with my own orders. This is not your godsdamned backyard with paintguns. You willing to die for your orders or you going to make myself and five other individuals kill you where you stand?" Well at least he has a number and an idea of what this is about now.

"The former, obviously, sir. It would be shitty, but like I said before… if I need to die so the mission gets accomplished, well… I've seen people die for much less. At least it'd have a reason." Decumius answers with a shrug.

"Good." Van looks like she might bore holes in him. "I even have to question whether or not you pull a knife against my orders, you won't like what happens." She takes a long breath and finally looks away to ash her smoke. "Corporal, I'm recruiting one final Marine to fill out a team of six for a highly classified mission that could mean absolutely everything to humanity and potentially an end to this war. Or it could be a trap and we never get a funeral." Natalie's eyes find him once more. "Myself and Gunnery Sergeant Constin drew up a short list of Marines with the right temperament for this op. We aren't running on skillsets. I need reliable people who are willing to lay it all on the line. You can walk away now or you can come with us, but I need an answer right now. Yes or no?"

"Yes." Decumius isn't known for being profuse with his words.

The Lieutenant finally cracks a smirk and nods once. "Good. Hoping you would say that." She stubs out the smoke gingerly, eyes still on Decumius. "Report to JAG and fill out an updated Next of Kin form before the close of business tomorrow. Consider yourself under deploymant warning. Pack a ruck with ammo, poncho, food for seventy-two hours, personal kit, spy glasses, and check out a camera from supply - one with a good lens. We're packing light. It's a recon mission to Gemenon. We're dropping in covertly. Speak to nobody about this mission. I'll need you to either find myself or Sergeant Constin for jump training soonest. Any questions?"

Decumius shakes his head. "No sir, no questions. Statement though; I'm only static line and air assault qualified. HALO and HAHO, if that's what you're going for, were only given to guys going to the Operator community when I was with my unit before. Ruck's packed, in any case, I'll add the trimmings."

"If you're static qual'd, you're good. The mission doesn't merit that kind of risky insertion like HALO or HAHO. Much less LALO. We may see those in the future but strictly for this mission it will be a low altitude static. All six out the door as fast as you possibly can. If you have training already I'll ask you to be last out so you can help motivate our first time jumpers." Not a lot of chance for training here on the Cerberus. "Anyhow, if there's no questions, you're dismissed. Best of luck and I'll see you at the briefing."

Finally, Decumius shows some sort of emotion. He grins. "Alright, sir. I'm eager." He rises up, brushing sweat off his forehead again.

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