Genesis - CIC
Genesis CIC
Summary: Regas and Fotilas go over the Pandora problem and Fot gets surprised.
Date: 18 BCH (10/26/2008)
Related Logs: None
Players:
Regas..Fotilas..

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CIC Genesis - Deck 11

18 BCH 2085 Souls


The Combat Information Center is the tactical heart of the Genesis. This CIC is designed in a triangular formation, with one point pointing directly forward, while the other two point port and starboard. The forward point of the CIC triangle is where the tactical consoles are set up. Dead center, a large, clear display panel is suspended from the ceiling, green gridlines showing a map of nearby space. Under this, a large table is set, providing more tactical displays, a wireless handset, and a large, DRADIS console.

Both port and starboard other watch stations are set, in two rows of tiers like stadium seating, one above the other. Each station has a purpose - helm, weapons control, communications, navigation, damage control, and further tactical monitoring. More displays and banks of computer monitors line the walls.

----—< Condition 3 - Duty Area >-----

Contents: Regas CIC Terminal 1117

Exits: [A] Corridor

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[Tac1] "Rabbit" Reeves says, "Wrongway, Rabbit…all lights green. over"

[Tac1] It seems the Colonel is not in a good mood at the moment. His voice growls over the comm unit. "Your asses are on swabbie duty. Launch those S&R's."

[Tac1] "Wrongway" Rue says, "Rabbit, you are go for launch. Get in the air."

[Tac1] Skip says, "This is Hound. All set to get going."

[Tac1] Skip says, "OOC: Wrong window… Just replace the name in front?"

[Tac1] "Wrongway" Rue says, "Hound, you have a green light. Get your bird in the air."

New DRADIS Contact: RAPTOR_1122 arrives from Hangar Bay B.

New DRADIS Contact: RAPTOR_108 arrives from Hangar Bay B.

New DRADIS Contact: RAPTOR_122 arrives from Hangar Bay B.

[Tac1] "Rabbit" Reeves says, "Wrongway, Rabbit..picking you up clear on the DRAIDIS..I've got your six. over"

[RAPTOR_1122: Reeves] Doreen's trusters lets out a stacato of bursts as it moves in a circle to end up just off to the left hand side of the latest Raptor to leave the Genesis. Inside the cockpit, Rabbit gives a thumbs up to the other pilots out there.

[RAPTOR_108: Warwick] Turning his Raptor to get in place on the other side of the lead ship, Warwick grimaces slightly as he keeps on flying. Turning momentarily to glance back to the cabin of the ship.

[RAPTOR_122: Rue] Raptor 122 is a little wobbly coming off the launchpad, but straightens out and takes point. Wrongway eyes Rabbit from her cockpit and just grins, raises a hand and points to her imaginary watch.

[Tac1] "Rabbit" Reeves says, "Wrongway, Rabbit..FTL charged, green light..awaiting your mark. over."

[Tac1] "Hound" Warwick says, "Wrongway, Hound. Jump plotted and all set for the trip. Just give the word."

[Tac1] "Wrongway" Rue says, "Jumping on my mark. *extended pause* Mark."

[RAPTOR_1122: Reeves] Doreen hangs there in space, just off the side of the lead Raptor, then in a flashing light she is no more.

[RAPTOR_108: Warwick] As the mark is given, there's only a second or so delay before the flashing light comes to Warwick's Raptor as well, and it's gone.

[RAPTOR_122: Rue] Wrongway's raptor follows suit, blinking out in time with the other two.

Lost DRADIS Contact: RAPTOR_122 heads for Grid Beta.

Lost DRADIS Contact: RAPTOR_1122 heads for Grid Beta.

Lost DRADIS Contact: RAPTOR_108 heads for Grid Beta.

[Tac1] "Rabbit" Reeves says, "What the frakk?"

[Tac1] "Hound" Warwick says, "I have a bad feeling about this…"

[Tac1] "Wrongway" Rue says, "And we're—Gods! … Gods have mercy. Floodlights, people. Check your DRADIS and let's move on to the Assaultstar. Now."

[Tac1] "Rabbit" Reeves says, "Wrong *static* dama *static*"

[Tac1] "Wrongway" Rue says, "Evasi*blrhlsjljljlkjgkjlkjg* Watch the explosive decomp*jkljlkjkljlj*"

[Tac1] "Hound" Warwick says, "Frak! Everyone okay?"

[Tac1] "Rabbit" Reeves says, "*ssdlugrewasrew* Rabb *reasgres* Sys *treastreyfd*"

[Tac1] "Wrongway" Rue says, "Let's get*zzzzzzzzz* line of fire. Starboard *bbzzzzz*ing bay!"


Regas has been here, standing over the nav table or walking around barking orders. He hasn't been in the best of the moods since this thing started.

Start of his shift, Fotilas steps smartly into the CIC and eyes the Colonel. Steps slow as he approaches the table and the man greets initially with a nod. "Sir," comes the even word. "Anything you need from me right off the bat?"

Regas brings around a hard look on the Captain, "The next time I tell Raptors to leave this ship, they better godsdamn have done it yesterday. I want you seeing that it is done and find out why it took them over thirty minutes to roll their asses out of here. And then, you can find some mop handles fitted to pilots hands." He takes a box out of his shirt and tosses it across. "Executive officer Fotilas."

The Captain's expression turns somber as the Colonel addresses him. "Aye, sir. I'll meet with the CAG and Deck Chief as soon as practical. It won't happen again." The man sounds quite sure of it. Nor does he look terribly pleased at that turn-around time for an alert. But the box being tossed onto the table certainly gets a surprise from him. As does the address. "..Sir?" He reaches for the box and opens it, careful of getting too hopeful for what he thinks just happened.

Inside the box is a set of Major pips. "You heard me, I need a good man up here and you've been proving your worth at doing just that. It's not going to be an easy job and you sure as hell won't be liked, but I trust you'll get it done," adds the Colonel.

Fots' eyes look into the box and he can barely hide the smile on his face. The box is carefully set down on the chart table and his gaze falls to the Colonel. "Aye, sir!" He doesn't pipe it, but there's some force behind it. Some men might say that they 'won't let the Colonel down.' Or maybe that the Colonel 'won't regret it.' Fotilas? Nope. A newly determined look falls on his face as he takes a deep breath. "Excellent choice, sir. Thank you." He begins undoing the pips on his own collar as he looks to the DRADIS console. "So we have Raptors and Vipers on a rescue op? I'm afraid all I know is what I heard on the 1MC. The call for pilots, Corpsmen, and Engineers."

Regas turns back to the nav and nods, "Vipers are still around us, till I get the word we didn't walk into something worse than a rescue op. Four Raptors went out as did the Flattop. I've picked up some Viper chatter that whatever those Raptors hit when they jumped in, wasn't good, but it didn't sound like enemy fire. Just debris."

There's a brief silence from Fotilas as he pins on the Major's isignia. He only nods to the Colonel's remarks as the man speaks, eyes still on DRADIS. After his last pip is clipped on he looks back to Regas. "Might I suggest we jump a few Raptors out as well? We're focusing a lot on this rescue operation. If it was an attack, it might do us well to scout around and see what else is out there, sir." He steps away for a moment to check some of the readouts from a PO1 in Electronic Countermeasures. He's pulling double-duty for the moment.

"One is out there, that was on CAP. Feel free to send out another, since we are standing here with our hands up our asses at the moment." Regas nods and motions for the XO to handle it.

Fotilas nods back to the Colonel and speaks to the PO1 for another moment before picking up a phone. He jabs a finger into a few buttons, waiting while it rings. "This is Major Fotilas, please get me Chief Taylor." A pause. "Taylor, you probably have a Raptor pilot standing around with an ECO. Get them airborne. Have them jump and scout a pattern between us and the Colonies, then between us and the Armastice Line. And Chief? Try to get it done faster than half an hour this time?" He doesn't wait for an answer and hangs up the phone. Eyes settle back on Regas. "Any word in the distress call about what happened to the ship? Even anything garbled?"

Regas shakes his head, "Just a signal of being in distress. Fires and electrical problems," he makes a finger point at Grid Beta, "The Pandora works the line here," he states quietly, his finger along the Arm line. "Recon Marines taking care of our back door. Assaultstar Hermes, handles the other end. The Pan just got unlucky or atleast lucky enough that we were close."

The Major's brow furrows as he leans forward on the plotting table. "They've got my sympathies." A ship on the Armastice Line taking damage like that, though..? "Is this common on Assualtstars, sir? I mean, is that class known to have problems I'm not aware of?" Eyes continue scanning the plots and something occurs to him. "Uh, Colonel? Where was that marker buoy recovered at?"

"I wouldn't think so, anymore than it would happen here. Assaultstars are good at moving around at a faster pace, they make a good Battlestar companion ship," Regas reaches up and rubs along his chin, the rasp of a beard felt, "Here," he points to a short jump from the area that the buoy was sitting. But he doesn't say anything at the moment that may be on his mind.

"Yes, sir. I've worked with them before in exercises. I was just curious if this was something I wasn't aware of.." Fotilas continues looking at the charts but notes the Colonel's silence. "I'll be honest, sir. I don't like that the buoy and this fire are close together. It could be completely random, but.. From what I've read in the reports about the buoy it didn't sound like accidental damage." He shakes his head as he finishes musing before looking back to the man. "What's on your mind, sir?"

"Same as yours, XO, same as yours. But jumping to conclusions until we get reports will just cause a firestorm of rumors worse than what will probably happen anyway. I also don't want anyone going into some panic either. Things have been known to happen and we'll just leave it at that for the time being. Right now, all we know is the things went on the fritz."

"Well, sir? Being your XO means presenting as many options as I can. Even the seemingly paranoid ones." The Major smirks to the CO. "But I was school in Tactics, sir. So coincidences, to me, are signs of trouble. However, you /are/ the Colonel and thus? You have my backing." He leans forward once more, palms splayed on the table. "Anything else reported from Fleet Headquarters? Anything strange or odd damage?" He /did/ just come on shift.

"No, it's been quiet. I haven't sent a report out yet. The last thing I need is an Admiral down my throat this early in the game," Regas nods and offers some slight smile, "You just keep on being paranoid, XO, that is what we pay you for."

"Heh, understood. Not a fan of the brass meddling in tactical issues, myself. But I'll keep on, aye." Fotilas gives the Colonel a cockeyed smirk before looking back up to DRADIS. "Have we heard back from the mission since they jumped off?"

"Nothing tangible. I'm waiting on a scrambled message off the Flat.." Regas begins and then a comms tech comes over and hands him off a piece of paper. "Looks like we got one, Raptors are hauling out bodies they can save. Doc says around 150 should be brought out," he pauses a moment, "It's a mess, but, atleast some did survive."

Fotilas looks to the tech as the message is handed off. He says nothing until the Colonel finishes. At the numbers being brought out, the Major's brow rises. "That's a lot. They're going to need help in sick bay.." He steps over to a different comm tech and whispers a few words to the woman. She nods and lifts the phone to make some calls. As the new XO moves back: "Any word yet on other losses? Or the condition of the boat?"

"The flattop will haul it in. That is what they are good for, they can keep it attached to them while the investigation into it is ongoing." Regas pushes the paper aside, his face grim now. "See that the CO of the PAS has your ear in case he needs something over there also. There are alot of places still being built up and their Med Bay is one of them. But we're going to need him to be ready."

"Understood, sir. I'd like to get in on that investigation, if you don't mind?" A quick request as he considers the last. The man was obviously unaware the PAS Medical facility wasn't finished. "Aye, sir. I'll get in contact with him, now." Fotilas lifts the receiver on the phone.

"I expect that you will. Get with Rhea on it," Regas moves off as the XO picks up the com. Ensign Peters is right there, taking down whatever the Colonel tells her and putting it in order for whatever she is being sent off to do.

Someone answers your wireless call. You can now use the 'private' wireless channel to talk to them.

[Private] Reed says, "PAS CIC, Actual."

[Into the Wireless] Fotilas says, "Genesis XO, Major Fotilas, sir. Have you received the report of numbers of wounded incoming?"

[Private] Reed says, "Negative, Major. No totals on incoming wounded. Medical bay is prepped and medical teams are standing on the deck ready for medevac Raptors, but no totals yet."

[Into the Wireless] Fotilas says, "Excellent. We just heard from our CMO that we are looking at one-hundred fifty wounded. We'll try to divy them up as best we can, but I understand your medical facilities are not one hundred percent yet, correct?"

[Private] Reed says, "Partially correct, Major. Research medicine is still offline, but emergency treatment has room and supplies. Only thing we're missing is a full crew of medical personnel. If you need to transfer stable patients for recovery, we have more than enough beds."

[Into the Wireless] Fotilas says, "Copy, sir. *a pause* After we have them aboard we will work out those arrangements. But being as how out CMO's are going to be very busy, I will be your point of contact. If you need /anything/ pertaining to this.. drugs, bandages, personnel? Contact me direct and I will get it taken care of. As for now? I'll send you a dozen Corpsmen and a Doctor. Its about all we can spare."

[Private] Reed says, "Copy that, Major. They can report directly to PAS Medical and be dispatched from there."

[Into the Wireless] Fotilas says, "Understood. I'll have them there in ten minutes with additional supplies. I will be standing-by in CIC if you need anything further."

[Private] Reed says, "Acknowledged. Contact if you need anything as well. PAS Actual out"

Fotilas hangs-up the wireless com with his finger simply tapping the notch down for a moment. The phone itself never leaves his ear. A few more typed numbers and he's ordering Corpsmen to the PAS Station. Finishing, he finally hangs up and looks to the tactical plot once more. "Sir, I've ordered a party of twelve off-duty Corpsmen and a doctor to assist PAS Station. They'll be off in five minutes. If there is nothing else at the moment sir, I'd like to speak to the pilots when they arrive…"

Regas signs off on something else and turns back. "Alright, keep me posted. I'm going to go call Fleet HQ and give them a heads up and see what response I get. Make sure that ship gets back here so we can look it over. Have guards on it, I don't want anyone snooping around that isn't supposed too. If it's a crime scene, then we don't want anything any more disturbed than what has already been done."

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