| Directives |
| Summary: | The XO talks to the CO about some things. |
| Date: | 43 ACH - 12/26/2008 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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You knock on the door to XO's Quarters.
From Executive Officers Quarters you hear shouting: Enter!
You head towards Executive Officers Quarters.
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Executive Officers Quarters Genesis - Deck 12
43 ACH 6285 Souls
The XO's quarters are nice, although not as large as the CO's quarters. A desk, small seating area, head and sleeping quarters are here along with anything else the XO may need for their living conditions.
----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-
Contents: Fotilas Regas Wireless 1302
Exits: [O] Corridor
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Fotilas is standing by his locker, just finishing buttoning his tunic. Its approaching his shift but he still has some time. The desk is neat for once, the two days confined to quarters apparently what he needed to bunker down on the paperwork. At the knock on his hatch he turns a bit to look.
Regas steps inside the XO's quarters and closes the door behind him. A simple glance takes in the desk, room and the XO before he ventures further inside, "You look a little more rested," there is only a partial smile that follows those words.
Fots looks a bit surprised but not altogether disappointed to see Regas. He does actually make it to a smile. "Yeah, well…" He tilts his head back and forth. "Had a few drinks to settle the mind. I didn't want to burn on concerns. The two days also helped got me caught-up, as much as I hate to admit it. But I'm glad you stopped by. There is something I wanted to talk to you about.." The XO moves back to his desk and glances at a scribbled-on legal pad. He must have a box of them someplace.
Regas nods, maybe he has a feeling for just showing up in places, "Good to hear," walking over, he takes a seat and glances back to Fotilas, "What can I help you with?"
Fotilas glances to Regas as well as teh man takes a seat. "I know its a sticky topic, sir, but we need to discuss it. Putting it off is only going to make the situation exponentially worse." He sighs and finds his own seat, but not behind the desk. "Major Rue forced it on us earlier than both of us probably expected, but we are about to be dealing with quite a few pregnant officers and enlisted. And we owe it to the crew to know how we are going to handle it. Hopefully you agree, sir?"
Regas links his hands in his lap and remains silent. There is only a questioning lift of his eyebrows as he listens. A few things going through his mind a the moment and then there is a bare nod, "I agree we will have an expansion of women getting pregnant. War tends to bring things about in a different way. If there is a place these people can finally settle down and try to rebuild, I'm all for having an influx of children to save our race."
"Fair enough, sir," Fotilas allows, leaning forward. He rests his elbows on his knees for this one. "But given our unique situation sit, we need to settle on something: Are going to officially encourage or discourage pregnancies? Or are we going to just not officially have a position on it. If we encourage it, it breeds hope and is a constantaly renewable drive to fight harder for our own survival - however it will deplete our resources faster. If we discourage it then we alienate those that want it and risk our officers and enlisted that become pregnant losing respect and authority.. However our resources won't deplete nearly as fast. If we don't have a position? We allow the crew to make their own policy, to an extent."
"You seem to have thought this over quite a bit," Regas begins, "I'll give you my full thoughts on it, since you seem to be so worried about our future. I am making sure, that our women on the frontlines are protected against pregnancy. With what little supplies we will soon have, they get priority. I can't have my female pilots or marines popping up pregnant right now. We are in a War and we need all the hands we can get. As for the civilians, that is completely up to them."
"Sir, I have. As the XO on the ship, my primary concerns are our warfighting ability and crew readiness. Pregnancy effects both. But this deals with more than just our front-lines, sir." Fotilas clears his throat, resettling. "We were short-staffed before Warday. We're also talkng about Snipes, Deck Gang, Weps, everyone. Everyone on this boat is crucial. Now I'm certainly not advocating any particular way, but this is bigger than Marines and pilots." The Colonel finaly sits back into the chair, sighing heavilly. "It also comes down to something else: We're going to need to raid a hospital. Or.. something. Prenatal care for our crew will be important and we're a warfighting ship. I still need to confirm this with Doctor Zaharis, but I suspect we aren't supplied for what we are possibly going to face in the next five months and longer."
"Yes, it does affect those in other areas. They all play a crucial part. Engineering, weapons, CIC, and so on. Support and Supply, a little more lenience. I hate to put rules on people, but right now this battlestar cannot afford an explosion of pregnant women," Regas nods to the other, "I realize we need to being searching for supplies, Colonel. We are on the move right now and will be sending out Raptors to jump into sectors ahead of us."
"Right, but we also can't order people to refrain from sex, sir. That would cause problems we need not bring on ourselves." Fotilas rubs at his chin thoughtfully. "No lie, sir: This is a tough nut to crack. Now as far as Raptors, I can get with Rue and we can plan those operations if you want. But this isn't something we should ignore. And we won't be able to avoid it by raiding derelict ships." The man pauses for a moment, looking to Regas. "And sir? Is it the intetion of this command to require all pregnant officers and enlisted to have a husband or wife?"
Regas narrows his brows slightly, "I never said I was ordering people to refrain from sex, Colonel. I said the female's will get the protection. And that, is an order," he rises then, "I don't need unwed mothers running around my ship. It looks bad on command and the crew. Especially my Officers. This is not a hedonistic playground."
The XO nods to the first part. "I wasn't saying you were, Commander. Just reminding you that what we can't do some things." As the CO rises, so does Fotilas. The man's brow rises. "Sir, publicly, I will stand by you. These people need to see us as a single unit. But I cannot in good conscious agree with that directive." The man clasps his hands behind his back, falling 'at ease.' He's not going to explain himself unless asked.
Regas straightens his cuffs and glances to his XO, "I'd like an explanation on why you cannot in good conscious agree with keeping our ship from becoming a daycare." His features are rather set at the moment, "Don't toss unity at me and then follow it up with that."
"Sir, privately disagreeing with you is something I am supposed to do. Its part of my training for full command. Even if that is a pipe-dream, now, sir." Fotilas remains 'at ease', his legs a shoulder width apart and his eyes on the CO. "But we require mothers to get married it signals that we can't trust our crew members with that responsibility on their own. It undermines their authority and alienates them. Besides, I personally believe the officers and enlisted on this boat are capable of raising children with or without such directives from these offices. Human beings have been having babies for a long time and single mothers have perservered… and we raised by them by tribes for millenia, as well. Those were some of the most effective warriors the colonies have known, sir." He pauses. "I have more personal reservations, but those are moral and less objective judgments, sir."
"A pipe dream?" Regas has to smile at that, "You never know, Colonel, I may fall down some stairs and break my neck." The Skipper releases a breath, "It shows an honor toward their own life and code. It shows responsibility and it sets a precedence for those who watch us. Because, they do watch us, XO, whether some believe it or not. I did not dig into Major Rue's background to find out who the father was. If I had, what might I have found? Do I put her on display now? Do I have the JAG offices start digging in depth?" He shakes his head, "She did not offer the name, only that he was 'dead'. I could go through every death we've had and start tossing out names. She apparently can't trust us enough to tell us." He purses his lips slightly, "It stands, Colonel, the Officers of this ship will show some dignity in their lives, if nothing else. I'm frakking tired of feeling like I already have a daycare on board when maturity should be the mainstay."
"Sir, I don't think any of us need to lose a member of Command." He smirks, but the expression doesn't carry any mirth. He was only appointed XO a few days before it all went down. He had to hit the ground sprinting at full speed. But as the CO speaks, Fotilas looks on at him. When the man finishes, the Colonel nods. "As I said, sir, I'll back it up publicly. But I also believe Rue was doing more than that. I believe she trusts us implicitly. However there are bigger things at work our dynamic with her than just cursory assumptions ike that, sir. What they are?" Fots shrugs. "I don't know and like you, I don't have any intention to dig. But I understand what you are saying. I'm also tired of feeling like we are babysitting certain people. However, sir, count this as my official objection to the directive." He doesn't look upset or even exasperated. Fotilas could be discussing the weather in the General Lounge.
"Consider it counted," Regas replies in a dry tone, "Your objections may throw some light on things in the future, but right now," and he pauses for inflection. "Even if you are the bastard on this ship by most, I'm still the one handing you the directives." He turns slightly, now tucking his own hands behind him and glancing about the room, "Your ideas may differ from my own, but it was how I was raised. Some on this ship could have used more discipline in their lives. Perhaps if it was Captain Nikos. Even one of Savannah's Lieutenants, I could afford to be more lenient. But, not in this. She represents too much, she has rooks and nuggets. The proverbial Colonial buck has to stop somewhere."
Regas adds in, "Besides, her little story doesn't add up with the numbers."
Fotilas thinks better of replying to Regas' first remarks. "If you want me to issue that directive, Commander, I will without hesitation. But only because I'm your Executive Officer." The XO keeps it quick as far as that goes, he just wants to make damned sure he's being told to issue that. "That's fine, sir. I don't expect to be your best friend or agree with you at every turn. Your Command, Your Perogative. Lords know, I agree that some could use more discipline. But when it comes to this, we differ in very fundamental ways, sir." With the Commander's last, the Colonel nods only once. "I understand what you are saying but I'm not sure of what you are implying."
"Issue it, we'll see how many scream and start tossing me memo's on how I can do this," Regas simply shrugs, "Her medical records show over seventy days and she stated she was almost in her second trimester and it was because of the War. The holocaust started a little over forty days ago, you do the math."
"Aye, sir. I'll have the directive out at the start of the shift." Its plain as day he doesn't want to. Fotilas looks as if someone stuff something sour down his throat, but the expression is fleeting and subtle. As for the CO's last, the XO's brow rises. "Sir?" There's a bit of confusion there. "I'm not a woman but if I recall, some of the initial signs of pregnancy can be confused with numerous other things. Couple that with the fact that everyone on this boat lost everything and all their families? Sir, I can't blame her for missing anything. She may have had a suspicion before Warday, but I'd think that takes a backseat for a CAG when the bullets start flying and pilots are dying."
Regas makes an absent shrug again, "You seem to have a soft spot where women are concerned. I suppose you have never been married?" He glances back to his XO, probably knowing the answer, but he asks it anyway. "They are very lovely creatures and the most manipulative things the Gods ever put on us to deal with."
Fotilas' expression rises. Well, then! Something is right on the edge of his tongue but he buries it. "No, I never have been married, sir." His eyes go forward towards the bulkhead. "Maybe women are manipulative. Maybe not. But until the day that an individual officer -not necessarily a female, sir- proves themselves disloyal to either the human race and/or the fleet, I can't and won't make judgments like that." He doesn't answer about the soft-spot, apparently.
Regas nods, "Yes, well one day," his dark eyes moving up again, "You'll learn that lesson the hard way," straightening once more his tone changes to a more business-like structure. "See that the Raptors are moved out starting tommorrow morning. Deep space and long range scans on Sectors H and J."
Fotilas does not look amused at all by the remarks, but nobody pays him to be happy. Of course.. nobody really pay him at all anyway. Ahem. There's no other outward response to Regas' personal remarks. He just stares at the bulkhead beyond the Commander looking terse, the man's jaw set tightly. But when Regas finishes, the Colonel looks to him and straightens. A salute is thrown. "Aye, sir." He holds it, waiting.
Regas returns the salute and then lowers it, with one last look he begins heading for the door. But then he comes to a pause, "Oh and Colonel, if you decide to let any more murderer's loose on my ship, let me know first?" He then walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.
You head towards Corridor 12E.
