Moment's Notice
Moment's Notice
Summary: Zaharis receives some startling news from Desusa, and gets his team together.
Date: 36 ACH
Related Logs: Dum Spiro, Spero 1-2
Players:
Desusa..Zaharis..Craven..

Chief Medical Officers Office Genesis - Deck 13
36 ACH 6285 Souls


The office of the Chief Medical Officer is a small room, used mostly for consultations and review of sensitive patient materials than the paperwork of the Medical department, which goes through the Naval Administrative offices. Still somehow it has file cabinets along one wall stuffed full of papers, two chairs in front of a desk behind which a large leather chair is set. On the desk sits a computer terminal.
Sitting on the file cabinet is a Rod of Asclepius carved from two different types of wood. The rod is made from lighter wood, while the snake is darker. The eye of the snake is inlayed with tiny crystals so that it sparkles in the light. It stands on a smallish pedestal with a legend: Do no harm to thyself nor to others.


There is a quick knock on the door to Z's office.

Zaharis is in his office plowing through his usual stacks of paperwork and other crap. He glances up at the sound of the knock, calling out. "Come in."

And guess whos comming to dinner? Desusa in full battle gear steps into Z's office. "Major Zaharis," greets the marine in a somewhat soft tone. He has a folder and some sort of mini dv in his hand.

Zaharis blinks at the battle dress, though it's just mild surprise. They are at condition two after all. He rises from his chair, motioning Desusa to the one on the other side of the desk. "Major Desusa. Have a seat."

Desusa has a serious face that counld't be removed surgically if they tried. "Thanks Major, but am afraid I am short on time today." He hands Z the folder and mini dv and says, "Access code is wildfire, then the video should stream into your computer. Hush hush, Major." He'll let Zaharis take a peak at the video before he says anything else.

Zaharis raises an eyebrow, taking the vid from the Marine. He slides it into his laptop, letting the entire thing play out. The first hint of Ephraim's voice makes Zaharis' face go suddenly pale, even before the man's name is ever mentioned, and his hands fold tightly on the desk. As the transmission stops, he's dead silent, his eyes finally going back to Desusa. He doesn't speak.

Desusa is used to paled expressions with regards to bad news, but he obviously fails to know just /how BAD/ these news are to Z at the moment. "Colonial battlestar Persius issued that distress call. No telling how old that video is, cause we only managed to get the complete message just a few hours ago from an old satellite." He opens the folder, and there Z will find a list of 'volunteer' marines. There is a blank spot for 'medical detail' to be filled out. "The rescue mission will leave just as soon as the G rarptors come back with the nebulae reports nearby. I need one of your finest, major."

Zaharis gives Desusa no further clues, just clearing his throat softly. His posture stays straight as he glances at the list, but only for a moment. "Lieutenant Craven will go, Major." There's only the briefest pause. "And so will I."

Desusa seems unfazed at Z's call to bring in two doctors. There are three squads going, so, he crunches the numbers and concurs its a good move. Besides, he's already on the line with Gaelan if he wastes a manrine's life. Two more doctors won't burden him any less. "You know the drill, major, report to the arm's locker and secure a weapon for yourself and the El-tee. We might move at any minute." Raul retrieves the folder and points out to the mini dv, "Major, if you please."

"Understood." Zaharis ejects the minidisc and hands it over to Desusa. "If Gunny D'Artanion is available on your side, I would suggest bringing her as well." He can't dump her on the list himself, she's not his personnel.

Desusa says nothing more as he gets the disc back, "If I get to her, I'll ask." He sighs a bit an pockets the disk, "Major Gaelan and I aren't seing eye to eye on this one, but he knows he can't order any of them off if they volunteer for it." He browses thru the list, making sure Zaharis dotted all the 'i's and crossed all the 't's.

Zaharis nods absently, though clearly he couldn't care less about Marine disagreements. Everything on the paper is in order. "I'll inform Craven. We'll be ready to go the moment you notify us, Major."

Desusa closes the folder and nods once. He turns heel and leaves Zaharis to his business.

Desusa has left.

[Intercom] Pass the word! Lieutenant Joran Craven to the CMO's office. Lt. Joran Craven to CMO's office.

Craven comes in from Sickbay.
Craven has arrived.

Zaharis is in his office, on his feet as he goes through something in his file cabinet.

There's a knock on the door to the office and then it's opened slowly so that Craven can slip inside, closing the door behind him. There's a slight arch of a brow as he looks around, eyes settling upon Zaharis. "You wanted to see me, Doc?"

Zaharis closes the cabinet, turning around. He uses the file in his hand to gesture Craven to a seat. "Yes, Lieutenant. What I am going to tell you is under strictest confidence, and you will not repeat this information."

There's a nod and then Craven is moving across the office towards one of the chairs so that he can lower himself into it, "Of course, sir." A pause and that brow remains arched, "What's going on?"

Zaharis sits down, putting the file on his desk. He regards the man across from him with intense focus in his dark eyes. "Craven, the reason we are here is that the Marines are preparing to respond to a distress call picked up from the Battlestar Persius. We have reason to believe there was an internal attack on the vessel, a possible mutiny. How long ago is impossible to tell from the transmission." He only pauses a moment. "You and I will be accompanying them as soon as their recon Raptor come back from the nebulae."

Listening, Craven gives another slight nod of his head, "The Persius, sir?" He frowns slightly, hands coming to clasp gently in his lap before continuing, "I'll make sure my gear is ready for a departure notice. I take it we'll have more information once the Raptor returns from it's mission?"

"Yes." Zaharis folds his hands loosely on his desk. "The Marines will brief us further once they have more information, themselves. We'll need to be ready to go at any moment, so go and check yourself out a weapon and get strapped up."

"Of course, sir. I'll make sure that I'm ready." There's only the slightest of smiles and then Craven is giving another quick nod of his head, "I've already got my sidearm, Doc. It's in a lockbox in my locker."

"Good. I'll call for you when the Marines get their butts together." Zaharis stands up again, clearly meaning to head for his own supplies. "Dismissed, Lieutenant."

Rising from his seat, Craven comes to attention and snaps off a quick salute before nodding, yet again, "Very well, Doc. I'll be ready to go." That said, he's turning and making his way out of the CMO's office and back into sickbay proper.

Craven leaves for Sickbay [o].
Craven has left.

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