Summary: Tension develops between Salin and Fotilas over Pregnancy Directive 101
Date: 44 ACH (27 Dec 08)
Related Logs: Directives, The Ovarian Opus & Red Light, Green Light

JAG Office Genesis - Deck 11
44 ACH 6285 Souls

The office of the Judge Advocate General is a normal office room in appearance, with a pair of desks and a bookshelf in one corner containing legal texts and reference materials. Each desk has a computer terminal on it and built in set of drawers. Across from each desk is a pair of chairs for interviewees to be seated. Also along part of the back wall are a row of grey, metal filing cabinets.
----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-
Contents: Salin Wireless 1759

Exits: [O] Out

[Intercom] Pass the Word! Colonel Fotilas call 1759. Colonel Fotilas call 1759
The wireless receiver (#1759) starts buzzing. Use +com/answer to answer it.
You answer the call. Use the 'private' wireless channel to talk to them.

[Private] "JAGMan" Salin says, "Altair here"

[Private] Fotilas says, "Major, Colonel Fotilas."

[Private] "JAGMan" Salin says, "Ahh, thank you Colonel. I need to speak with you. Could you please come by my office?"

[Private] Fotilas says, "I'll be down in a few minutes."

[Private] "JAGMan" Salin says, "Thanks Colonel. See you shortly.'"

[Private] "JAGMan" Salin hangs up the wireless and ends the call.

You invite Fotilas to meet you for RP.
<OOC> Fotilas is about to join your location.
Fotilas has arrived.

Within the JAG Office, Salin is seated behind his desk, reviewing a memo that's crossed his desk. His desktop terminal is on and if one were to look closely, there's a schematic of the Carina displayed on it, more specifically, of the large lake that currently resides within the confines of the ship.

Fotilas doesn't bother knocking. He just pushes through the hatch and shuts it behind him. Turning, its evident the last few days have been rough on him. Tired eyes 'highlight' a drawn face and dour expression. But the man's uniform is done to spec, even wearing his normal sidearm again. "Well, you have me, Major."

Looking up from his document at the entry, Salin gives a polite nod towards Fotilas, "Colonel, thank you for coming by on such short notice." Unlike the Colonel, Salin seems to always be rested. There's no bags under his eyes and a small smile rests easily on his lips. The memo is lowered down and a hand lifts to motion to a chair, "Have a seat, please?"

A heavy sigh leaves the man and he shakes a palm down towards the offered chair. "Thanks. I need to stand though. Sitting at this point isn't going to help me any." He heads away from the hatch, though, and leans his hands down on the chair's backrest. "So, now that you have me?"

"Very well." Salin gives a curt nod and is leaning back in his seat, "First, you're no doubt aware that I've had Command's 'Pregnancy Directive' removed. I'm sure I don't have to explain how many laws and constitutional rights that violates. I'm surprised though, Colonel, that it was allowed to be posted." He's pausing slightly, long enough to turn the terminal so Fotilas can see it, "What's being displayed here, Colonel, is a schematic of the Carina. More specifically, the large lake that resides on the Carina."

Fotilas doesn't seem surprised to hear this. "It was posted specifically so you would see it and take issue with it. We're at war. The crew can't afford to see the XO and CO butting heads. I forced the issue before things could be enforced quietly." A pause. "You're welcome." But the man is too tired and thin on emotion to leave any trace of warmth for the statements. He turns to look at the schematic and nods. "Yes? The one next to the crab restaurant. What about it?" The lake that has paddleboats!!

"I'm not giving my thanks, Colonel. You should have killed it with what ever meeting you had with the Commander. How does it look now, that JAG has countermanned a Command Order? An unlawful order should never have been posted and is, in essence, illegal. I shouldn't need to remind either you or the Commander about that." Salin turns his chair slightly and after a moment, he presses something on the terminal. The schemtic shifts out and changes until the lake is gone and a town is in it's place, with a military garrison located outside, "In the interests of getting this resolved, myself, Major Zaharis, Major Zimmermann and a suggestion from Major Carter is as follows." He pauses, takes a breath and turns back to face Fotilas, "We drain this lake. That will give us ample water for the forseeable future. And, it allows us room to build 'Laketown', a set of housing and facilities, such as a school, church, daycare and a hospital." Another pause, another breath, "Immediately outside the town would be a Military Garrison. The purpose of this garrison is to take families that are expecting and post them to 'Shore Leave'. This enables us to keep them away from the dangers of a Battlestar, while still utilizing them for their jobs. A doctor can work within the medical facilitie. A pilot could perhaps instruct new recruits. A tech can help review and plan for things. Do you see what I am getting at, Colonel?"

"Oh please, Major. Spare me. You know how much bullshit I've have to wade through for this? I'm not a lawyer who checks his books when something sounds wrong. I have to play it by ear as soon as things happen. Now, I'm trying to keep my frakking position so I can shut Regas down on more important matters if I have to. Its called 'picking your battles.'" Meetings off to a great start. Now the XO's mad. The tired eyes just stare at Salin for a long few moments. Its after the Major has started speaking again that the hunched-over man looks back to the schematic. He listens but doesn't say anything until the end. "Beyond draining a lake for water and building housing for more civilians, no. Why would we establish a military garrison?"

The subject of the notices is set aside. It could be because the smile on Salin's face has slipped away and he now actually looks cranky. Or, it could simply be because Fotilas is mad. Either way, it's let go and the lawyer is giving a slight shake of his head, "As I said, Colonel, it would allow us to take pregnant women and post them to the garrison. The Genesis /is not/ setup for pregnancies, as I'm sure Major Zaharis will tell you. Nor, is a Battlestar a safe place for children or a woman who is expecting. But, we can not afford to have them not working. A garrison on the Carina would allow both an increase in safety, that can't be offered here, as well as allowing us to still utilize their services through the term of their pregnancy."

"Lords of Kobol, Zaharis was serious." The XO hangs his head, looking to the floor. He takes a few moments. "Look Major, I know I haven't explained this to you yet so, bare with me." He takes a deep breath and looks to Salin. "You are not pulling pregnant women off the line. Not until its impossible for them to do their jobs. I'm not sure you recall this or not, but we were at sixty-five percent strength on Warday. And now? We're closer to fifty because we have an Assaultstar to crew also." He pauses once more. "So I'll ask you the same question.. how many members of this crew do you think we can lose for seven to eight months at a time before we are in lots of trouble? Five percent? Ten? Twenty?" His brow rises. "Forget the fact that Regas won't go for it."

"You seem to be missing a key proponent of things, Colonel. We /are not losing/ these personal, through our suggestion. They are simply posted to a 'shore based' patrol, which is standard practice during a pregnancy. Frak, you can't have a pregnant pilot flying. You can't have a pregnant marine in the field. Rather then make work for them on an Battlestar, where the risk of personal injury is quite high, move them to a secure garrison where they can still conduct their work." There's a pause, "Beyond that, I have no problem speaking to Regas about this, nor fighting to see it's approved. At the very least, the hospital, school and daycare need to be done and that certainly falls under the Office of the Civilian Liasion to fight for. The Garrison? It's a bonus and a possible solution to our problems."

"Wrong, Altair. You're missing something. We can keep a Marine in the field. We can keep a pilot in the cockpit. Should we? Absolutely not. But we're not playing warm-fuzzies with the cylons. We're fighting for our existence at this point. Repopulating our race and having babies is a concern and treasure we cannot afford right now." Fotilas seems adament about this, but he's not yelling either. Yet. "You talk about these pregnant women like they're all paperpushers. How does a pregnant Snipe work from a Garrison? Or a deck mechanic? Or a gunnery specialist? Or a comms tech from CIC? These are people that we cannot lose because we are already at emergency staffing levels."

Salin's hands move to rest on his desk, fingers steepled against the wood and slowly he begins to rise from his chair, "I'm afraid I'm not wrong, Colonel. I suggest you brush up on the legal positions of what you can, and can not do. Yes, we are at war. Yes, we are understaffed. Does that mean the rights, both civil and consitutional, of our men and women can be violated? No, it doesn't. Neither you, nor the Commander, have the authority to even tread into that water." He's pausing, hands moving to clasp behind his back, "All it takes is for one to ask to be removed from active duty. What are you going to do then? Refuse them and then have a battle with my Office, in which time the individual will not be working, period? At least this way, they are still working. Perhaps not in their active role, but in another area that can be done from a garrison." There's a slight pause, hands tightning behind his back, "Colonel, perhaps we should continue this conversation when you're more rested. As I stated earlier: A pregnant snipe could plan, conduct inspections etc. Communications could easily be routed to the Garrison. A gunner specialist could effect or develop a training program." A breath is taken and held, before he's releasing it, "You speak of not losing people. Let me put this before you. What happens if these people die? Are we in such /dire/ circumstances, that a single person from each of these departments is going to absolutely shatter our ability to function? Because, that is effectively what are you saying. Not only that, but you've now stated that Command /will/ send pregnant marines into the field, which now endangers the life of an unborn child."

Fotilas just listens to Salin while the man speaks. Finally, at the end, Fots rises from the chair and shakes his head. "You know, something? And this is tragic.." The XO looks at Altair. "I wanted to help. I wanted to sit down with you, Rhea, and Zaharis and work something out. I wanted to work with you three to develop a solid plan that we could take to Regas. Something that I could use my knowledge of the man to trump any reservations he would have. But now?" The Colonel just shakes his head. "You bring legal matters into this so you can force something you want to do and won't even accept the perspective that command has.. and assume that because I say something that I am stating fact?" He peers at Salin. "Do you really frakking think I'm going to put a 7-month pregnant woman in a Viper pit?" He turns to go. "Good luck, Major."

"I'm disappointed, Colonel. You state you want to help and yet the manner in which you offer assistance is entirely wrong. You make it seem like JAG should be thanking you for posting notices around the ship that violate several laws and consitutional rights. And yet, it creates hordes of paperwork for JAG, taking us away from other issues and forcing us to stand /against/ Command, when such an order should never have been issued in the first place." A pause and Salin is shaking his head, "And legal matters are one of the things that are needed in this situation. So are medical ethics. If you fail to see that, Colonel, I am sorry. And if you walk out that door, do not come back to my office and ask JAG to scratch your back next time you take an interest in a prisoner." There's a pause and then the man is nodding, "And to answer your final question, based on directives issued from Command and previous statements? If it came down to it, I think Command would." That said, he's slowly lowering himself back into his chair.

Fotilas stops at the hatch and turns, eyes drilling into Salin. "Wow. You've got big brassy ones, don't you?" He crosses his arms. "So then what? Should I just go ahead and grab ankle here or would you prefer to have that someplace else. Because now that I'm under the impression that you believe your legal authority grants you the power to control the ship, Im fascinated and a little excited. What does the fabulous Major Altair plan to submit to Commander Regas and I, then? Since, obviously as you've implied, we are in fact alienated from everyone. That I never had any interest in helping you at all.."

Fotilas's stare is returned and Salin gives a polite nod of his head, "Yes, I do, Colonel. It comes with the territory. I'm sure you wouldn't want a lawyer defending you who didn't know how to walk the line, carefully." He's pausing again, giving a shake of his head, "And when did I say that I have the authority or power to control the ship? I answered your question, with a fair answer based entirely on what's been said and shown. You walked in here, Colonel, and made it sound like you were doing me a favor by posting those notices. I don't condone actions that violate the law. That's where my authority starts and ends, Colonel. In the law. I have no delusions of grandeur. No aspirations of power. And certainly no design to move in your role or that of Commander Regas." Elbows come to rest on the armrests of his chair, fingers steepling before him, "Now, I understand that you're under alot of stress. I don't envy you. I've submitted a suggestion, Colonel. Rather then simply tell me that I'm blowing steam and that I don't know how understaffed we are, why not sit and offer a counter suggestion?"

The Colonel still looks blazing pissed. "I'm happy you have time to read the books and know how to walk the line, Major. But when we can't issue orders because we're short comms or plot jumps properly because our nav personnel are out doing their jobs from another ship, its a serious problem. Or if we don't have enough crewdogs to fix Vipers or Raptors.. then what? Seriously, Major.. if this is a viable plan then how do we intend to plug the gaps?" He still lingers by the door. Face red, jaw set. "Had me fooled about hijacking power, Major. Seemed like that might have been your goal when you started threatening to throw the book at command. Which, you know, includes me. The enemy, at this point." Altair cut deep. Very deep. On a personal level. "My counter suggestion? Plug the holes. Our logistical situation is a sick frakking joke, Major. We can't pull people off the line. Now I can get us all the natal supplies we need. But people are irreplacable at this point. And really? I don't think I'm much frame of mind to think of rational fixes right now."

"Just as you have time to read things relating to your job. That's a pointless argument and you know it, Colonel." There's a shake of Salin's head and his brow lifts upwards, "And if you think I'm going to attempt to wrangle power, Colonel, go ahead and have me charged with munity. What I said, and said clearly, is that JAG will battle Command if pregnant individuals feel they are being pressed, unduly, into situations that place their child at risk. Frak, Colonel, that's /no different/ then you asking me what could be done with Ms Kyrios. You're just choosing to see it as a personal attack on you and I'm sorry that you want to view it that way." He's leaning back in his chair then, fingers steepling before him once more, "Plugs the holes … before I can even address that, I need an answer to a previous question that I asked. Are we so dangerously understaffed, that losing a single person from any department is going to cripple this ship?" He's giving a nod of his head, "Very well, Colonel. We'll continue this conversation at your leisure."

"I don't have time to read things related to my job, Major. I had to use two days mandatory 'leave' just to get caught up. But see, again, assuming I'm trying to invoke anything illegal. Besides, trying to slap you with a mutiny charge would be a joke. We wouldn't have anyone else to prosecute you." Its dry. But is it humor? Hard call. "But thank you for making it personal by bringing up Kyrios. Again. I'm seeing it as a personal attack because you are refusing to see anything from any standpoint except legal. I'm glad you, Zimmermann and Zaharis got together. Great. I hope it works out. But from the sound of it.. you don't want or even need my help. And to answer your question - no. Losing one person at this point won't hurt anyone. But where do we draw the line? Two people from smaller departments will hurt faster. The losses will be felt. Badly. And it will effect this ship in ways that you all need to consider."

Any humor has long since been lost to Salin and he's simply shaking his head once more, "Kyrios gets your attention, Colonel. It proves a point and, as I said, I would treat a pregnant individual, no differently then I handled that. Within the confines of the law. I'm sure, Colonel, that you would be quite displeased if I just sat back on my hands and allowed things to slide? I either do my job, or I don't. Make your choice." Another shake of his head and Salin is giving a sigh, "I'm ending this conversation, Colonel, unless you wish to order me to continue it. Apparently, neither of us is much in the mindset to finish it."

"So then you're dismissing me, Major? If I walk out the door am I still supposed to suffer your unwillingness to show latitude in the future on murky cases?" He's not going to comment on the rest right now. He's irrationally angry.

"No, I'm dismissing myself. Unless the Colonel has any objections?" Salin lifts himself from his chair, hands moving to grab a folder from the desk before coming to attention, "By your leave, sir." Any further comment is bitten back.

Fotilas stares at Salin for a few moments and shakes his head. "Right. By my leave." He turns and walks out the hatch.

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