Into the Fold
Into the Fold
Summary: Ramiro is given classified intel and sent on the hunt.
Date: 86 ACH
Related Logs: None

Marine Offices Genesis - Deck 14
86 ACH 23817 Souls

This room serves as an all-purpose command post for the Genesis detachment of the Colonial Marines, and is manned round-the-clock by HQ staff. Drab desks, replete with office supplies, computer terminals, and headsets take up the majority of the space. White boards with hasty scribbles denoting the day's duty shifts dominate an entire wall. There's a small arms locker at the far corner of the room, furthest away from the hatch, blending into a row of filing cabinets. A wireless panel is close to the hatch, sitting below a draped Colonial Marines flag.
-----< Condition Two - Duty Area >----——

Shem is at his desk, cleaning out his gun with a white rag. Pieces of it are arranged in front of him, placed neatly and perpendicular, some shiny from polish.

Currently about to change over MOW to the next officer, Ramiro has been making his rounds. Stepping through the door with a notebook and a few folders in his hands, he makes his way around to his desk and starts to pull out his study manuals for OCS. Seems he didn't get much sleep the night before but there's little indication of his weariness despite some dark circles under his eyes. "Lieutenant…" He nods to Shem as he takes his seat and pulls out a pen for note taking.

"Ramiro, c'mere a sec," Shem mumbles. He sets the weapon down.

Ramiro looks to Shem. He was about to turn his computer on, but doesn't complain one bit. Checking his sidearm into his desk and locking it, he stands and moves over to Shem's desk and takes a seat.

"Alright, here's what's been going down." Shem's voice is low, steady. "So the rumors are true. The Cylons can build human-looking people. We had two of them down there, in the classified lab. Twins. You saw those guys in that crate, we figure those were more of 'em. From the looks of it, they ain't too creative, and they're only building certain-looking human Cylons."

Ramiro nods. "I was pretty certain of such but I didn't want to jump to conclusion." He replies, glad to be cleared for the intel. "What's our plan for these things? Shoot on sight? Detain? Capture live specimen?" He asks, getting right to business on the issue. "Does Command have a stance on that yet?"

Shem shakes his head. "Nothing from higher on this. Our operating stance is capture if possible, kill if not. Anyways, from what you're giving me, it looks like the Cylons knew that we have them, and they went ahead and messed up our party."

"Excellent…" Ramiro says sarcastically, folding his arms in the chair as he watches Shem. He scratches the side of his head. "Yeah, so far all signs point to deliberate boarding. That's a slight reason to give pause." He looks to Shem. "…and no strange pieces of equipment were recovered with the ammo? Everything's been scanned for transmitters?"

"You'll have to ask Zimmerman about that," Shem replies, "but it wouldn't matter. They somehow figured out what was down there before this thing. Zaharis had the place locked up pretty tight." He puts his elbows on the desk and leans forward, questioningly. "What are the possibilities?"

"Logically…?" Ramiro starts, almost not wanting to say it. "…it could be electronic cracking into our systems, something we haven't detected yet. I doubt they expected for us to find the skinjobs, it would be illogical to give us a taste of them and then turn around to blow them up." He pauses. "Either they're tracking us somehow or they've got an insider in the fleet. Perhaps some sort of transmitter in the skinjob samples or…" He flattens his lips. "…a spy."

Shem nods. "Your major players are the double Z's, Zimmerman and Zaharis. They were heading up this investigation. I've asked the doc to prepare a list of individuals cleared into that lab."

Ramiro lifts his eyebrows and lowers them in quick succession. He nods a little, head tilted to the side. "Allright…" He watches Shem from across the desk. "…do we have security video feeds of that area? Might be worth checking into nonessential personnel that also walked by the area strangely. If there is an insider that information would have to leave this ship somehow." He pauses. "Were the samples destroyed in the boarding?"

"Yes, we have video," Shem confirms. "Draw them from Sergeant Pierce. Everything else is untouched ground."

"I understand where this is going to be a top priority." Ramiro says, looking to the gun parts on Shem's desk as he talks. "I'll be able to fit in what I can between my MOUT training and ensuring that other training requirements are met." He looks up and smiles. "I suppose the OCS prep can go on hold for a little bit. I'll get into the research on the videologs. Sickbay's on that floor though, it's not as if it's a fairly unpopular portion of this ship."

Shem shakes his head. "What I wanted to hear was, I'll try to keep my other responsibilities while busting my ass on this one. Everything else is secondary."

Ramiro smiles and nods. "Getting the traction in my boots." He nods to Shem. "I'll bust my ass on this one and keep my responsibilities to the best that I can so that there's no suspicion. I didn't want to overstep my bounds." He pauses. "So you want me to link up with Z-company on this one or start with the feeds from Sergeant Pierce and wait to be contacted by them?"

Shem replies, "Well, the doc did contact you. Go back to him, get that list, and start going down it. Treat everybody with suspicion, because I figure everybody is suspicious." A pause. "Tell you what, I'll get a couple of my guys to start going through video."

"That'll clear up even more of my time to focus on this." Ramiro replies with a nod, seemingly thankful. Rubbing his jaw for a moment as he considers, he looks back to Shem. "I'll go start that up right now. Unless you know of a better place I'll conduct the interviews in appropriate places." He looks to his desk, making a mental note of what to bring. "Should the fact that the interviews took place remain confidential, complete with acknowledgement forms?"

Shem says, "Since the XO's a damn lawyer, this needs to be on the up and up. Advise any person questioned that they have a right to representation, obtain waivers, then obtain a non-disclosure agreement. Talk with the JAG if you don't know the specifics, they'll set you up." He makes a face. "Should be a good learning experience."

Ramiro's lip tugs to the side in a little bit of an upward grin. It fades quickly as Ramiro swallows. "Ironically I'm at the specifics of that in my OCS study for such things regarding disclosure. I'll go by the book on this one." He nods, making a mental shopping list of forms to have the Desk Sergeant prepare for him. "Hopefully an uneventful one, Lieutenant."

"Gods willing," Shem agrees. "Good luck."

"I'll have word back to you very soon." Ramiro stands and moves towards his desk. Unlocking his secure drawer, he pulls out his sidearm and a few clips, attaching them to the necessary parts of his belt. Contingency plans are always good things. Getting right to work, he moves towards the Desk Sergeant. "Sergeant I'll be needing a minimum of three copies of the following forms prepared in seperate folders…" He trails off, getting to work.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License