Dum spiro, spero – Stage Two
Dum spiro, spero – Stage Two
Summary: Regas, Fotilas and Gaelan go over the 'rescue' mission. Majors clash and the CO chews some more.
Date: 36 ACH
Related Logs: Dum spiro, spero – Stage One
Players:
Regas..Fotilas..Gaelan..Desusa..

Locale: Genesis's ward room.

Desusa is standing at the corner of the conference table. A battlestar schematic is sprayed over the table along with some manuals and folders. Desusa is in full combat gear, looking down at the papers he's got before him. Helmet is sitting over a nearby table. A group of marines line the back of the ward in combat gear as well.

Regas is here too, but silent. He is standing off to one side while Zeus does his marine thing. Nothing says lovin' like Marines in combat gear.

Gaelan steps inside the Ward Room buttoning the top button on his duty shirt as he looks around the room. Eyes slide to Desusa and the others assembled before looking to the Commander, which immediately forces Gaelan's eyebrows to stitch together before he snaps a quick salute, "Major Gaelan, reporting as requested, Sir."

The XO steps through the hatch and stops, looking around. Damn. "Looks like someone is fixing to cause damage," he says quietly, looking to Desusa. The gaze slips to Regas and the Commander's greeting is simple: "Sir." But he looks back to Desusa. "This is about the Persius, I will assume?"

Regas returns the salute to Gaelan and motions him to join on the festivities. A nod going to the XO as well. He then crosses one arm over his chest and the other crooks at the elbow as his fingers smooth along his beard, "Seems like we have a small quandry here, but I'll let Major Desusa explain."

Desusa glances back to the new people filtering in and nods to each one of them. "Yes, Colonel, sir," Raul says to Fot, "I have a partial plan worked out, but need Major Gaelan's expertise on it too." He nods once to Regas, "Commander," and then taps a vid machine on to begin the show. "Twenty for hours ago, we picked up a weak 199 code in sector seven. It was apparently stuck on a relay on an old satellite," a small pause, "A raptor was dispatched to get the complete transmission, and this was the video contents." Queue movie theater quality video and sound: Security camera inside the CIC of the Persius. Captain Adams is holding some sort of a meeting with the few officers he's got left. One of them is Captain Ephraim Zimmerman. "Alright, the damage control crews have sealed off the unused decks to avoid pressure leaks," says Adams, as he points to a hexagonal map of the region placed over the center table. DRAIDS consoles are dark and there are a few sparks coming off from some of the consoles. "We're lucky that nebula provided enough cover for our FTL drive to engage, but that was probably our last jump. Our next move is to get to the tyllium refinery near Scorpia, here." The officers look exhausted, the condition one lights flicker about and there is not a single marine present in the room. Probably all dead. "It's gonna take us at least twenty or so ours to get there with our current propuls…" says Zimmerman, stopped short by a ruckus outside the hatchway. In the blink of an eye, six armed, ski mask-wearing persons barge in. One of them fires toward one of the consoles, "Viva la CLF!" The officers in here are taken by surprise. None of them manage to draw out their guns before being reduced to impotence. The 'leader' of the pack steps around to Adams and says, "And here, is where you lose power, /sir!/" Adams is knocked out by the butt of the 'leader's' rifle. *End video transmission*

Gaelan eyes watch the video quietly as his arms fold across his chest. Drumming the tips of his fingers along his bicep he looks from the video to Desusa then to the other Marines before looking back towards Regas as he comments in his rasped tone, "So I am guessing the plan is for us to go find the Persius and liberate her from these mutineers. Which immediately sounds like a bad idea if they are able to overthrow one Naval vessel."

The XO's brow quirks at Regas' introduction and he looks back towards Desusa as the man steps closer. As the video is player, Fotilas simply crosses his arms on his chest as well. He saw this fed into CIC yesterday. It still makes him visibly angry. But the man glances to Gaelan. "Not necessarily. The Persius was in the process of decommissioning. She probably had a skeleton crew to start with. It wouldn't take much to take a vessel with enough surprise and firepower. Hell, they may have only had three or four Marines on board." He clears his throat and looks to Desusa and Regas. "Any estimates on force size, yet?"

Regas steps around to see the vid better and calmly watches what plays out, even if the reception is bad. "CLF.." the Commander murmurs in a low voice, "Just what we need. Not only do the Cylons try to exterminate us, but we have fanatics as well," he looks over the room, "I'm almost in agreement there, Major Gaelan. No idea what is left on that ship in defense even with the decommissioning. However, those are what are left of the command crew, something not so easily replaced. If they aren't dead already."

Desusa lets the video play and shuts the machine once it's done. There is a nod to Gaelan's first impression but he refrains to comment on it. "Records show that the Persius had already dropped off about ninety percent of her crew in the Epsilon bases near Libris. It was then scheduled to refuel on platform G5 for it's final trek to Scorpia." He now moves to a open one of his books and says, "C.L.F. Colonial Liberation Front. The records on their activities are almost non-existent because they are one of the newest government-opposed movements after the Picon riots." He looks to Gaelan, "Their first attempt to take down one of our fleet assets resulted in heavy losses to their ranks, but with a skeletal crew on a damaged battlestar, that feat could have been done with minimal force. I'd say between 20 or 25 assets." He turns on a slide machine and begins putting some pictures in to show on the display. The first set, show the exterior of the battlestar… badly damaged, "Point defense and hull damage match cylon offensive weapons," he looks to the officers in the group and adds, "This ship was attacked after the main crew was shipped off."

Gaelan eyes glance to the schematic then look back to Desusa, "Well Major, the Cylons attacked pretty much everything in the frakkin' colonies. So why does it sound like you are surprised to see that the Cylons are making sure anything that may have us breathing is eradicated?" A glance goes to Fotilas then back to Desusa, "Are you proposing that we board and rescue what we can from this ship? That's a bad idea in my opinion, Major. We do not need to give away our position. Waste our Marines on people already assumed dead. This just has epic frak-up written all over it." The rasped tone is notably escalating in volume as he speaks his points, an obvious point of frustration.

"Little bastards," Fotilas grumbles. Terrorists taking advantage of a holocaust. 'Kill 'em All.' He doesn't say it, but its written across his face in plain English and the savage disgust in his voice is nearly tangible. But when the pictures flash up, he steps closer to see detail. This came into CIC, as well. But on a tiny monitor. "Lords. This thing looks like its held together with prayers." And human sacrifice as well, probably. He focuses hard on a few areas and he shakes his head. "DRADIS dish and antennae array are shot to hell, also. We could roll the Genesis and Pandora in on it and she'd be blind until we took her broadside and opened up barrage batteries. Not that we would or even should.. but anything we do will likely keep them blind. Assuming they don't have a secondary system. Which with a skeleton crew to even try and repair that? Or set-up a secondary? Its beyond rational consideration…" The man is really musing to himself. Hamsters are running in the wheel, turning his brain round and round. He wets his lips then looks back to Gaelan and then Desusa. "I'm in agreement with Major Gaelan, though. Cylons likely know they were putting out that distress signal. It very well could be an unintentional trap set by the Persius command." He looks to Regas.

Regas looks up now, having listened to the Officers under his command. A grim line slides across his lips, "Major," he directs to Desusa, "I'm going to have to agree with the rest. I realize what this holds. I understand the implications, but our own force and our own ammo stores are too low to take on anything until we can get back on our feet. I won't put the ships out for this. If it is a trap, we're all dead."

Desusa looks to Gaelan for a few seconds, "There is a remote possibility that some of the original crew is still alive, Pietr." His tone doesn't rise, but instead, he seems to be trying to tap into his sense of hope. When Fotilas and Regas show their negative, Raul's face flashes a hint of surprise, as he was almost sure they where on his boat. "Every site we jump into right now is a trap, Commander," he looks to Fot, "Colonel." He frowns a bit, adding, "We lost invaluable resources on Leonis. People. Crafts. But hey, guess what, we lifted off twenty unknowns from Leonis. Twenty souls." He looks between then and then to the marine squads in here, nodding his head towards the exit. The platoon files out, as Desusa begins unstrapping his kevlar, "You run the show, gents, and I merely plan out the missions when the odds are for or against us. Heck, I still like to think that getting at least one person out of that tin can, is worth all the nukes we have stored."

Gaelan looks between Fotilas then Regas before turning back to Desusa, "Well Major, I understand your enthusiasm but unfortunately we don't have the unlimited resources necessary to run constant search and rescues like that. We need to be more measured in our assaults. I would seriously hate to deploy you and your men to that ship and it become a catastrophic failure and I lose two good squads and a Major. Is that worth the risk of boarding an already decommissioned ship that may just be nothing more than a graveyard as is?" Glancing to Fotilas he comments, "That ship was under decommission and on skeleton crew, what would be salvageable from the wreckage that we could use. Anything worth risking a mission like this?"

There's a loooong sigh from Fotilas as he looks back to the schematics after Regas finishes. He taps a single finger against his chin. He doesn't like abandoning anyone. Eyes narrow and he moves over to a chart that plots the ship's location. "Hold on, Major Desusa." The motor finally kicked over in his brain. "At the very least, Commander, we can't ignore that these people need help. Even if they are all dead, the logistical stocks we could take off that boat.." His eyes rise to Regas. "We can do it, I think. But it will use.. geez. Three more Raptors than I think Desusa currently requires?" He then looks to Gaelan. "A lot, Major. The entire ship is a scrap yard for us. We could potential rebuild half the Genesis with it, providing Major Zimmermann has the tools and manpower. They may not have much ammunition for the main batteries - if any. But their armories would be stocked with 20mm rounds for the Vipers, likely. Small-arms. Large tools and dies from their engineering spaces… The ship is still afloat, gentleman. Its a living, breathing, backup system for the Genesis in case we get hit badly." The man clicks his teeth. "I know we are in the business of people and survival and I hate to make it about materiel… but there you have it. To my mind, saving lives goes without saying." He looks to Regas once more.

"And if I lose you, two fireteams, a medic and a couple raptors?" Regas simplifies it, echoing Gaelan, "Then what? Was it worth it?" He walks around the room slowly. Heavy burdens the Commander doth have. "They tell me that I'm a hard case because I have a man shot and it could be a life saved instead. Now, I could possibly save more and lose some also." He turns then, "This vid goes nowhere outside this room. We don't need any heroes or any disgruntled civilians thinking this fanaticism is a grand idea." That dark gaze of his goes from one Officer to the other, especially on Fotilas as he lays it all out, "My only other concern is what may be salvageable that we can't take. It has to be destroyed on a last resort. The FTL it has left, can be set on overload." Walking to the table he bends a little to look at the chart. "Raptors have the ability for sneaking and off the radar for the most part. We could use the metal and any ammo stores it does have." Another rub along his chin, and he looks to the marines. "No one lives. Except those who may be captive. I won't have them brought over here for some farce of a trial and then hear about it afterward because we had put a bullet in their heads."

Desusa has already removed his chest gear when he addresses Gae, "Don't think I don't understand you, Major. I know the situation is grim, and every mission we commission from now on has a high potential to fail." He sets his gear down and sighs. When Fot speaks up, he flashes a small smirk. He then follows Regas with his eyes, as he leans over the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Once the commander finishes his speech, a bright smile is displayed, "I'll tally up each shot that leaves each nuzzle, sir. The ones on the offender’s head get a lunch bonus." He pushes off the wall and looks to Galean.

Gaelan watches Desusa then looks between Fotilas and Regas. FInally his gaze settles back on Desusa where he stares at him the gears obviously in full motion, the brow stitches together tighter before he finally comments in a rasped tone, "Major Desusa. You are only getting one of my fireteams. You are only getting one clip for reload out of my ammunition stores. So I hope you have chosen some of the best for this mission, because I am sick and frakkin' tired of visiting /MY/ Marines in the Sickbay from missions like this. If you fail this mission, then I hope you take an honorable way out." Eyes snap to Regas, "Since I am not needed for this, permission to be excused, Sir." The tone is staccato and sharp in it's rasped nature. No sir, the Major is not very pleased at the moment.

"Sir, if that's our intentions, it may be better to strip the FTL out of it and keep it as a backup for our own. We can set the navigation system to pilot the Persius automatically to sail into this star-" He points to a nearby cluster. "-here." Fotilas looks up to the other men. "What I want is our Raptor-G's providing covering fire in case someone shows up to crash your party, Major Desusa. They should be able to provide enough warning, fire, and jamming while you extricate from the Persius. Have them set-up a CAP around the Persius. But before ANYONE.. I mean frakkin' anyone goes in.. I want a Raptor to scout these systems." He jams his fingers into three nebulas. "Perfect background interference to hide toaster-stars." The man then stops and looks to Regas. He's the XO, but a tactician at heart. He can't help it. "But I'm with you one hundred percent, sir." That hard gaze moves to Desusa and Gaelan. "Hell, wound 'em and leave 'em if you want. Let these people ride the Persius into a star once you all termite the CIC controls." No pity. As Gaelan requests to leave, the Colonel just eyes him with a blank stare.

Regas glances to Gaelan, "I don't believe it was any of your marines in sickbay this last time, it was some pilots," his own tone rather grave. "And no you are not excused. While these two plan this little mission, I need to speak to you on a couple things," he begins walking toward the door, figuring Gaelan will follow.

Desusa frowns right back at Gaelan. This is about the only time you'll see this two disagree on something. "Aye, Major," says Desusa, turning around to walk towards Fotilas and working out the final details.

Gaelan eyes snap to Regas as his lips purse but unfortunately do not stop his comment, "No. I just didn't get all my men back this time, Sir." A side glance is given to Fotilas before turns and follows Regas to Room'O'Yelling.

Fotilas doesn't say anything to Gaelan as he makes his comment. The man's displeasure with Gaelan is readily visible, though, with the Major's comment. He straights and drills holes in the man's back as he leaves. But once they exit, he looks back to Desusa. "How many men do you need for this operation, Major?"

Desusa is also slightly disappointed with his friend, but he won't talk about it with Fot. No siree! "Well, I'll go off tangent with Pietr on this one, sir." He opens up his tactical book and says, "Three squads. One for point offensive and two to cover retreat and extraction." He points toward a section of the book and reads, "Codename: Wildfire. We /burn/ the axis and retrieve the allies." Simple enough.

"Three squads? Damn, Major. You don't roll lightly." Can't say he blames him, either. There's a long breath and he looks to the man again. "Wish I could go." He's said it before and godsdamnit, the XO looks angrier every time he says it. "Keep in mind, we need the logistical supplies." He won't shine him on about being careful about their shots or whatnot. "Good Hunting, Major." He nods to the man and moves for the door.

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