What You Don't Know (Command Meeting)
Log Title
Summary: Command Meeting in the Ward Room. Discussed: Skinjobs, the Red Planet, and Gars. Gaelan gets in trouble.
Date: 55 ACH
Related Logs: None
Players:
Regas..Salin..Rhea..Rue..Zaharis..Gaelan..Greje..

Ward Room Genesis - Deck 11
55 ACH 23817 Souls


The Ward room is used for meetings. Carpeting covers the floor in a muted gray/blue color. Colonial flags line along one wall, representing all the colonies. A sideboard for refreshments is along one wall and a large conference table sits in the center with a dozen, comfortable chairs around it.


Greje comes in from Corridor 11C.
Greje has arrived.

Regas is already at the head of the table when people begin arriving. The areas have been set up wth water and ashtrays for those who use them. Like any conference room, it works on having the small things taken care of, that and Pepper is efficient as ever.

Salin is within the confines of the ward room, seated at his usual place, with a pile of paperwork before him. Currently, he seems to be signing a couple of documents and then placing them with the confines of an attache case before finally beginning to gather up the papers to give some semblance of neatness his little section of the table.

Zaharis has A Report in the crook of his arm. Official and everything, black folder with emblem that looks to have several copies of what's inside. Dressed in his blues, a rare occurence, he makes his way into the ward room and raises salute to Regas before heading to a chair. "Sir. Major."

Rue comes in with her clipboard in hand, moving over to her seat and taking it. The claim is furthered by placing her clipboard in front of her, followed by a pencil. From her seat, she looks first to Salin, then over at Regas, noting, "Thank you. For the quarters, Commander."

Gaelan files into the Ward Room and passes a quick salute to the ranking person in the room then heads to his chair. Sitting down slowly he leans back in the chair and winces once he settles in. The Major looks visibly tired as he pulls the small binder from under his arm and sets it on the table. Glancing around the room he nods to those present.

Rhea strides into the ward room. Spin 'n span and dressed in offcier blues. Both rarites for the ChEng. She's brought a clipboard along with her, tucked under her arm. She salutes her betters, gets herself a cup of water and takes her usual seat next to Zaharis.

Greje comes more prepared than she'd been to the prior meeting, which had, after all, taken her something by surprise. She enters briskly with a case at her side, coming to stand by a seat and go about the appropriate military niceties before unpacking a small laptop for use in taking any notes she might need and settling down on the edge of her seat, a rigid sort of nervousness in her posture.

Regas nods to those entering and he does rise up. Salutes are returned and then he is setting his eyes on the Lieutenant. "I think we'll do something nice before we get to the nastiness of this meeting." He motions for Greje, "If you could come forward." He waits a moment, "I think you've finally shown your rising star well enough among the crew. You've visited them when they were sick. Held their hands when they were dying and upheld the deep-seated religion we have all been around or have grown up with. No matter who supports who, you have shown you can handle each side." It's then that he offers her the small box of Captain's pins, as he flips it open. He doesn't offer to pin them on, sometimes you have to wonder if he is afraid of female cooties.
"Now," The Commander continues to the rest, sitting down again. "Let's start this off with Medical. We have alot to cover and talk about this evening."

Rue says, "Congradulations, Captain," Rue says, eyeing Greje as she takes her pencil in front of her in her left hand and puts it to the paper on her clipboard. Her eyes go to Zaharis then and stay there whilst on the paper she starts to doodle."

Shuffling the last of his paperwork into some semblance of order and neatness, Salin looks up to watch as Greje is presented with her Captain's. There's a flash of a smile, followed by a quick nod of his head, "Congratulately, Captain." Then, he's falling quiet, looking over towards Zaharis.

Rhea offers Greje a short nod. Respectful. Though, as always, the ChEng's manner toward the chaplain isn't exactly warm. She also picks up her pencil, though no doodles are made. She flips to a clean sheet of octagonal paper on her clipboard, ready to listen to Zaharis' spiel.

Greje stands, stiff and sort of numbly, advances, listens, accepts all in the same sort of awkward manner, a flush in her cheeks. And before she knows it she's managed out a "Thank you, Sir," and is back at her seat still sort of wondering what happened. But, having recently met with the clergy on the Destiny and gotten some vague idea of what's going on, her attention is soon fixed on Jesse, fingers poised over her keyboard.

Gaelan watches Greje walk up and smiles at what will probably be the only good news of the night. Eyes glance to his binder opening it slightly and looking to some of the paperwork in it. CLosing the binder he looks to Zaharis and rubs his hands over his face briefly then stretches his eyes wide. Must. Stay. Awake.

Zaharis waits for the pinning ceremony to be done, nodding at the end. He opens up the folder, taking pages from inside and starting to pass them around. "Most of you know the rumours that have gone on about 'skinjobs'. The captain of the Hera claimed that the cylons are capable of cloning human beings and using them as agents." He pauses there, for a second, passing the last report around. "We were given two bodies that are supposedly examples of this cloning. Here on this report I'm passing around, you can see photographs of them. They're identical females, fingerprint ID Lieutenant Sharon 'Boomer' Valerii, Raptor Pilot, current assignment Battlestar Galactica." The CMO continues then, "The two bodies are exactly identical. Down to the genetics and fingerprints, which is a medical impossibility. Even natural identical twins aren't /that/ identical. I also found an aberration in both spinal cords. Their neural pathways are made of silica, a specific type that was used in Cylon hardware in the first Cylon war." Yes, now it's the "first" war. Here he pauses to see how this is sinking in.

"So, it's a good chance they are some sort of Cylon, then. That opens up a rather large can of worms," Rue comments as she scribbles something out on the pad in front of her. "We could be infested like a rotted apple and not even know it."

There's a slight shake of Salin's head as Zaharis' speaks and the JAG brings his hands to clasp together lightly on the table before him, "Doc, is there a test that your department can do, to determine if someone is a Cylon or not?"

Gaelan leans forward to pick up the report. Eyes slowly read over it as his brow stitches together taking in the information. Glances go to Zaharis then Regas then back to Zaharis as he just waits on the CMO to continue. A sideglance goes to Rue as she comments but the Major doesn't respond while the others offer their opinions on the matter.

"Silica…?" Rhea repeats. Under her breath. It's more a soft exclamation than a question. In spite of everything, it's obvious she hadn't allowed herself to believe it. She gives her head a short shake, clearing her throat. "Was there any other indication they were cybernetic? Mechanical bone structure, computerized brain activity?" Her interest is in the technical rather than the strategic. There's a touch of awe in her eyes as she contemplates the reality of this. Though she tables any other questions. Curious about the answer to Salin's.

Regas is about as neutral as neutral can get at this point. "The implication of something like this could cause mass panic. So, I told a lie in that conference. For a good cause, I might add. We don't need a panic on our hands after this last debacle." He can only nod at Rue's assessment, "We could be. Which is why this ship will become even tighter on security. And I'm sorry to put it like this, but anyone that dies, will need to be taken apart like those two." His fingers slide together as he looks around the table. "I can assure you, that I've never been made by a Cylon. I don't think the universe could handle more than one of me at a time. If any of you have any surprises for me, I'd hope you tell me now. Not that you would."

Zaharis knew Salin's question was coming. He shakes his head. "Not unless we take out and dissect the spinal cord, Major. Which would leave the person quite dead. We can test after the fact, that's it. But…" He looks towards Rhea. "…I wanted to get a sample of the silica to Engineering. I don't know if there's anything they can do to build something that'll detect the presence of the matter itself, or possibly interrupt its impulse conduction." Might be too much to ask. He then addresses Rhea. "No, nothing. They are completely and totally human apart from the matching genetics and the silica." Looking at Regas he nods. "The civilians aboard the Hera already know something is up. When Fulton mentioned skinjobs in the bay they seemed to all know what they were already. As soon as we get back to the Carina the rumours are going to fly."

Greje remains quiet, the only noise from her section of the table the occasional muted sound of fingers over keyboard. She's used to touch-typing, evidently, as she doesn't look to the keyboard or screen. Salin's question garners the most interested reaction from the priestling. Then, after Regas speaks his piece, she highlights and deletes a good number of the notes she's just taken. As if just on the off-chance that someone will look through the laptop that oughtn't.

There's another quick nod of Salin's head in response to Zaharis and he's giving a slight frown, "So, in reality, we're no different off then we were five days ago? Except, with the added wonder if everyone around us is one of these .. skinjobs?"

Rhea inclines her head to Zaharis. "Of course." She sounds very eager to get her hands on that silica. "We'll need Medical's hands in it, too, I think. My people aren't biologists. I'm certainly not. I can get you and any personnel you want on it cleared for entry into the lab on Deck Eight. We've been doing some studies on the Centurion skeletons we've nabbed there. Maybe some of that data will be useful. Maybe not." She sounds doubtful. Nothing skinny about a Centurion. She keeps out of the policy debate. It doesn't blink or clank or shock. Not her territory.

Gaelan eyes slide up to Salin before the rasped tone finally comments, "Well we can identify one of the two at least. We document the fingerprint of the current bodies, run them against all found survivors. Any matches are immediately detained and interrogated. We get details from Fulton in regards to the secondary Skinjob and stay on the look out. Have anyone who can verify they are the same one and follow the same process. " Glancing to Zaharis and Rhea briefly before the rasped voice continues, "A more effective test will be good but right now we need to use good old fashion common sense. But this means we will have to do a full re-evaluation of this Fleet and her security. Especially civilian policing." Eyes slide back over to Salin on that comment.

"It seems to me we'd have had more difficulties if we had Cylon infiltrators aboard… just to put that out there. It's not that we've had a picnic the past several months, but, it could have been a lot worse," Rue points out, eyes on the paper in front of her.

Zaharis nods to Rhea, then looks at Salin. Then Gaelan. His expression's not all that sold on 'common sense', but he shifts his attention to Regas for the Commander's reaction.

The Commander leans back in his chair and listens to those around him as they discuss the issue, "As I stated before, our answers are a no comment at this time. We are working diligently to make sure everyone is safe. Just play it down and it'll pass over, giving us some time to get a handle on it. This captain Fulton wants to speak with Salin and myself, so we'll go that route again. Unfortunately, there is no way we can contact the Galactica, even if she is still out there. We also have no way of knowing if those terrorists on the Pandora were either." His eyes going toward Gaelan, "Especially the one that ran off." His look is half-narrowed as if he is giving the Major a boot to the head and a hint.

There's a slight nod towards Regas at the mention of Fulton and then Salin is looking over towards Gaelan, "Civilian Policing is underway, but that's a conversation for later." He's going quite then, turning his attention back over towards Zaharis.

Rhea's brows arch when Gaelan brings up the subject of civilian policing. Still, she stays out of it. You can't plug in a cop. She nods a little to Rue. "I concur with the CAG. There's been no sign of technical sabotage since the attacks, on either the Carina or the ships under military jurisdiction. Maybe the Genesis project's secret nature allowed us to avoid infiltration. Maybe we've just been lucky so far." Though mention of the Pandora incident makes her frown with more concern.

"Maybe it just hasn't happened yet," Zaharis says. A little fatalistic is their CMO today. "Or it has and has gone undetected." He pulls his cigarettes from his pocket. Regas gave them ashtrays and he intends to hotbox the place if he has to listen to all this. "So we can count on plenty of rumours on the Carina regardless of what we do. The civilians of the Hera aren't going to keep their mouths shut."

Gaelan looking back over towards the Commander the Major just retorts, "The Marine that ran off has no clue where we are or intend to go. Right now I got enough issues with the frakkin' bad Marines coming off that boat as is. I don't know if you are noticing but ever single Marine we are having issues with outside of Farkas is a Pandora Marine. Not a Genesis Marine." The fatigue is obviously making the Marine a little snappy today. Looking over to Salin there is a pause at the Civilian policing comment before he finally starts commenting again, "Right now I need to determine a method to get my security force on the new ships to assess their security force and environment. In regards to the citizens on the Hera, I don't want them off their boats they are fully checked medically and fully documented with fingerprints and matching to the census provided."

Greje's brows furrow briefly at the mention of the terrorists from the Pandora, as well, and she finally pipes up, if meekly, toward the Commander, "We still have the fingerprints of the two men we put to death on file, correct? Is there a way we could check those against the population of the abandoned fleet?" she wonders, unsure of the logistics of the matter.

"Good suggestion, Captain," Rue pipes in, looking across the table at Greje. "It's worth a shot." Then she clears her throat and says, "Human looking Cylons is a security issue and how we let the truth unfold for the civilians who don't know back on the Carina will be important. I agree with the Commander that the full truth doesn't need to be levied just yet. We still have plausible deniability… The new fleet has been through a lot. A good number of people on the Carina might chalk up talk of humanoid cylons up to trauma."

"Leave that to me, Doctor," implies Regas on the 'keeping mouths shut'. "I'll speak with Fulton on it," his glance goes back over to Gaelan. "Speak with me after this meeting," he then looks to Greje, "Captain, I'll need you to move every scripture you have. Anything that we can know about, that we can possibly use. And I want facts, not fiction. But keep this quiet, none of this is leaving the room. As far as the crew knows, it's what I put in the Press release." He does nod to the fingerprint idea. "It can't hurt. Even if we didn't have this problem, the civilians would need to be accounted for." He flips a folder open in front of him, "I have a letter from a Dr. Corran who was on the Nebula. He gave his statement about the incident, which JAG can look over." He passes that to Salin. "He's also been the main medical doctor for that ship and worked with the others on the Destiny. He knows these people and they trust him like most do with their doctors." He looks over to Zaharis, "If you can use him, put him to work."

"I think we need to keep in mind," Zaharis speaks again once his cigarette is lit. "That the Hera may have struck it lucky by coming across two copies of these clones. Even if we find no copies of anything further, it doesn't imply we're safe." He exhales quietly and looks at Rue, "You can't be serious. You expect four thousand people to think that rationally?" Clearly, he sure doesn't. He looks over at Regas and nods. "I met him very briefly on the Nebula deck. I'll get back in touch with him."

There's a quick shake of Salin's head and he's leaning back in his seat, "As much as I understand the need for security, Pietr, I don't think your marines should be anywhere near the civilians from the new ships. Not considering the most recent circumstances and the outlook that's befallen upon the Military. The last thing I want is a riot to arise from the tension that is already there. It would be best to task a couple of the Carina's Security Captains to do the duty of gathering fingerprints and sending them off for comparison. But even that isn't foolproof. We don't have access to every fingerprint that was ever recorded." A pause and Salin is accepting the document from Regas', casting a brief look over it before giving his head a slight shake and setting it aside, "Thanks, Commander."

Rhea takes some notes. Her brows do some precipitous arching when Gaelan talks of Marines and security. Her expression is one of concentrated tongue-biting. But, cops and Marines and doctors aren't mechanized. Hopefully. So, quiet she stays. Nodding shortly to Regas. "Understood, sir."

Gaelan nods slowly to the Commander then looks over to Salin and nods, "That makes perfect sense Major. If anything I would like to bring their Chiefs over to us for a sit down. Maybe under moderation with JAG to keep things on the up and up? Regardless they have intel and my S2 needs access to it. We are still at war, regardless how much we are attempting to maintain some civility in this floating city we are calling home for now."

Zaharis has the same kind of look on his face as Rhea now as they mention captains and everything else. But he's presented the medical side and so hushes for a little while, taking a drag off the cigarette.

"No. I expect them to be irrational. What I'm saying is, /we/ don't tilt our hand until necessary. If we acknowledge it as truth and there's a saboteur in our fleet, that puts a ticking clock on when they move," Rue replies, mostly Zaharis' way. "Are we really ready if that were to happen? Could we stop them in time? Do we have our resources placed so that we can try most optimally to prevent their mission?"

Greje looks back to the laptop and deletes the rest of her notes after looking them over once more. It's not leaving the room. She ponders quietly over the Commander's words. There aren't any Cylons in the Scriptures, as far as she can immediately bring to mind, and she looks back to the Commander, piping up again, "Sir? I'm not exactly certain what it is you're looking for in the Scriptures," she admits, but then looks around, not wanting to hold up the meeting, "Can we meet at some point so you can specify?"

"I think it's gone a little beyond courtesy and 'maintaining civility' at this point," Rhea notes, in response to Gaelan. Compelled to say something about matters non-mechanized. She pauses a beat. Connecting it with something vaguely in her sphere. "Speaking of the Nebula, Commander, I need some guidance on how to approach it. It's salvageable. Me and mine *can* repair it, and that's another freighter for our use. Another place to put people and stow supplies. But it's going to take a month of work, as a preliminary estimate. It was beat to hades before we found it, and we left it in even worse shape. There are three other ships in need of repairs, but we can get them moving in a time-frame that doesn't make me worry."

"What hand do we have, exactly?" Zaharis asks Rue. "Rumours start around on the Carina from the Hera that the cylons are cloning us, and security's suddenly beefed up, taking everyone's fingerprints and details. Two and two together will lend credence to the rumours. Not that it's not necessary. I simply think we're not at the advantage we think we are right now." He looks back at Rhea as she speaks.

Regas nods to Greje, "I'll set up a meeting, bring the scriptures with you." He then looks to Rhea, "Do what you can. If you have any volunteers that knows mechanics off the ships, let them help. They know it better than you do. Even though we know that the Pegasus pulled the most important crew off them for herself." He then looks over to Rue, "Have you got a crew for the Planet yet?"

"I don't agree," Rue states bluntly, but doesn't say anything more on the subject. Turning to Regas, she says, "My squadrons are ready to go. I can have a team put together and in the tubes within the hour, if that's your order, sir."

Gaelan looks over towards Rhea as he nods, "I am aware of what my Marine did. It's as much my fault for still allowing him to carry a frakkin' weapon as it is for him pulling the trigger. Regardless we can still run the fingerprint check, through civilian forces, on the new survivors. They do not know what our SOP's are in regards to this. Plus I think getting a quick poke, prod and stab by a medic isn't a bad idea overall. We do not know the conditions they are living in or what diseases they may have." The mention of the planet perks his ears as he looks to Regas, "I want my Recon on the ground, double-time, Sir." The change of gears is quick for the Marine on that one. Open door and his foot is wedged into it before it closes.

"Yes, Sir," Greje replies, putting the request on the back burner for the time being while she takes in the rest of the aspects of the situation as others discuss them.

Zaharis quietly smokes while they talk, exhaling a thin stream finally. "Are the environmental specs up from the planet yet, sir? We need to be ready for any medical precautions, both for teams going down and for what they may be bringing back up."

For the moment, Salin simply listens. Talk about planets and patrols and recon's don't seem to interest him that much, but he is listening and apparently taking notes like a good little Major.

"Do it," Regas tells the CAG. He then glances to Gaelan, "As soon as those pilots do some checking on the outer rings, for Tyllium. If we need to go on the ground, you'll be the first to know." He shakes his head to Zaharis, "That is what the Raptor team needs to find out." He straightens then, "Alright, now to Corporal Gars," he looks to Salin, letting him spill all this out onto the table.

"Ten-four." Zaharis scribbles something on his notepad, then looks up from it again, regarding Salin from under his brows as a couple tendrils of cigarette smoke curl past him.

Rhea inclines her head a notch to Gaelan. "Didn't mean to imply you weren't, Major. You're dealing with more fallout than any of us from it." She actually sounds sympathetic. A nod to Regas, as to the Nebula. "I'll work with whoever's left of their people, sir. I'll mend as I can. Fences and ships." Suddenly quite happy with her broken ships, when the subject of Gars is brought up. She's done commenting on things non-blinky. She doesn't even take notes for this portion. She listens sharp, though.

Gaelan eyes watch Rue a moment, "Let me know what you find so I can see if I can send my boys in." A glance over to Salin as the Major watches. Quietly. Firmly interested in the sudden JAG-sermon of legal mumbles about to be emitted by Major Altair.

"Will do, Major," Rue says, making a note on her paper as she eyes Gaelan, then it's over to Salin and waiting in quiet expectation, pencil dangling above the page.

The mention of Gars has Salin straightening slightly and Salin takes a moment to look towards Gaelan and then towards the rest of the personnel assembled, "As most of you are aware, there was an incident aboard the Nebula during the initial contact between the Marines and the Civilians located there." Having managed to read the civilian report while other talked, he taps a finger lightly against it, before moving his hand to tap a couple other sheets of paper, "To give a brief into the situation, the civilian ships were stripped of the majority of their supplies by the crew of the Pegasus. So, when another Battlestar appeared and boarded, they were obviously aggitated and under the impression that the Military had come back to finish them off." Another pause and he's leaning back in his chair, elbows coming to rest on the armrests as his fingers steeple before him, "What happened next is nothing short of a tradgedy. Being trained for war and not civilian police caused Corporal Gars to view bats and pipes as lethal weapons. According to reports from military individuals present, the Corporal took it upon himself to call weapons hot." Another pause and his gaze traverses the personnel once more, "One civilian was armed with a handgun and fired a shot at this, striking Staff Sergeant Scipio. It was at this point that the Corporal allegedly disobeyed orders again and opened fire, on full auto, into the crowd. He emptied his entire crowd, killing thirteen civilians and wounding two others. A check of the dead revealed only the single hand gun and no other form of lethal weaponry." He's passing and then he's extending two sheets of paper across the table, one to Gaelan and the other to Regas, "As such, based on the security recordings of the Nebula's Hangar Bay and the incriminating reports from both Military and Civilian Personnel, I am effectively charging Corporal Gars with thirteen counts of murder, two counts of attempted murder, disobeying a lawful order and dereliction of duty." He's leaning back then, "And I'm sure I don't need to speak of the implication that this is having on our relationship with the civilians in the fleet. We're slowly looking like warmongers to alot of them."

Zaharis attempts to keep a neutral face but fails. The corners of his eyes tense as he listens to the full report, as does his mouth. No verbal comment as of yet.

"The execution should be public," Rue says. There's no buffer there. Nope. Just /wham/ there it is.

"I concur," Rhea agrees shortly with Rue, tone decidedly lacking in pity.

Greje looks down at her keyboard, finally, not typing anything, but keeping her fingers at home position in an effort to stop herself from fidgiting before looking up at Rue and then Rhea with a sudden turn of her neck. She doesn't disagree, however.

"Medical's stance is against execution," Zaharis says, predictably but firmly. "And my personal one is that it's far too easy a punishment."

Gaelan looking to the paperwork only after Salin finishes his briefing. The Major picks it up, eyes sliding over the paperwork. The Marine Commander takes a slow deep breath. Holding it in a moment then it slowly exhales through his nostrils. A slow blink from the Major as he nods to Salin. Finally he looks around the room to each of the Department Heads then finally looks towards the Commander. Slowly standing up with a visible wince on his face as he straightens to attention. The rasped tone of the now picturesque Marine who has is eyes locked on the far wall, "Commander Regas. On behalf of the Colonial Marine Corps, I extend my apologies my Marines actions and the strain he has added to an already fragile system. I will not condone his actions under any circumstances and I fully endorse any and all recommendations by Command and JAG for his punishment. I ask that it be implemented immediately so that my Marines can put this dishonor behind us. My Marines are much better than this man has allowed us to prove." There is a pause as he looks to Regas finally and comments in a flat almost cold tone, "What is your recommendation for punishment, Major Altair?"

For a moment, Salin's quiet. His eyes play between everyone before he's leaning forward, "The law provides us two avenues of punishment to take. The first, is execution and normally, I would not hesitate to issue such a recommendation. But .." A hand lifts and he's motioning towards Zaharis, "I have to agree with our good Doctor. Putting the Corporal to death is just too easy. So, providing that the Corporal is found guilty of all charges, my recommendation for punishment is as follows: Loss of all decoration and awards. Reduction in rank to Recruit. Dishonorable discharge and finally, 15 years of hard labor aboard the Tracer for each soul that was lost. And 7 years for each soul that survived." He gives a slight pause, "So, in total, 209 years of labor aboard the Tracer. When not on shift, he would be confined to a cell there and would not have the luxury of spare time."

The Commander takes the sheet, not that he has to look at it. His gaze travels to the grouping of Officers. "I realize what some of you think about the dispensation of justice we have. I also know from the last time, how I had people on me about it." The paper is casually slid into the folder he has in front of him and he leans back. "So, as my Officers, you make the call." He glances to Rue first, "That is one." Then Rhea and he nods, "Two." His eyes next go to Greje and then Zaharis. Another nod. He looks up then as Gaelan speaks, "Three days of AIQ for your squad leader SSGT Scipio, for not keeping his team in line. Corporal Gars will also make a formal statement to those people on the Nebula in apology of his actions." His gaze turns to Salin, "At any other time I would agree. But not on this. He is still capable of sabotage and he would need to be watched 24 hours a day." His gaze goes back to Gaelan, "The Staff Sergeant will also carry out the execution personally and we will put this behind us. May the Gods have some mercy, since I will not." Harsh.

Rue nods to Regas as he looks at her. She was pretty straightforward about her opinion, so she leaves it at that. The pencil in her hands is set down and she leans back in her seat, hands folding into her lap.

Gaelan stitches his brow together as he looks to Regas and comments flatly in his rasped tone, "With all due respect Sir. I am not subject my Staff Sergeant to the execution of one of his own men. I guarantee you he is beating himself up. Also he was not the ranking member in that detachment. Major Desusa was on-site and at the time Staff Sergeant Scipio was injured when the Corporal released his volley into the crowd." Eyes lock with Regas while they slowly narrow as the tone quiets slightly and seems a tad sharper, "So with all due respect, I refuse to execute the AIQ orders on Scipio along with his orders for execution duties. I refuse to have a good Marine broken down mentally from watching his own Squadmate get shot. That will not only break him but his entire capability of leadership within his squad and my Corps. As for the formal statement from Gars. I believe it is more than necessary and as far as I am concerned you can send him to hard labor on the Nebula and let them deal with them as they please. But I will /not/ have my Marines broken down even more for an example against a bootstain like the Corporal."

Ruh Roh. As Gaelan speaks, Salin slowly turns his head towards the Marine Major, listening for a moment as a brow lifts upwards. Then, his gaze moves slowly over towards Regas', waiting for the Commander's reply to that.

Zaharis watches Regas as he talks, then looks back at Salin. "My formal opposition will go on the record, Major." He doesn't get more fiery than that, though, as Gaelan's now talking, and he looks at the Marine major. Well that was interesting.

Rhea says nothing more on the subject of Gars. If she looks less than at peace with having spoken for his death, it's not something she takes back.

Regas rises up now as the Major makes his words known in no uncertain terms. "That was a direct order, Major Gaelan. If your marines are going to handle a team, they will need to do things they may not like. As for Major Desusa, I'm well aware he was there. I will deal with him as well."

Gaelan eyes watches Regas rise as he flatly comments the Marine is not even wavering backing down now, "Commander. Who does Major Desusa report to? You or me. More importantly which vessel sanctioned this mission? The Genesis? If so then that means the Major was reporting to me during that mission. So I want my Major's punishment listed as well, since I have all my other men who were there getting dictated to me."

Salin turns his attention back over towards Gaelan and he's giving a quick shake of his head. Then, he's stealing a glance over towards Zaharis, making a motion that he wants a smoke and mouthing that he's left his in the other JAGSuit. Yep, apparently he doesn't want to be witness to this.

Zaharis pulls a cigarette from the pack and rolls it to Salin. Ignore the cigarette, it's an innocent party.

"Don't overstep yourself any further, Major," Regas furrows his brows now. "One week of AIQ."

At some point in there when Regas seemed to be inviting opinion, Greje speaks quietly, "From my limited interaction with him, Sir, I'm not altogether sure giving him some rest won't be a piece of mercy in itself, at this point." An ambiguous statement, but spoken with a subtle undertone of pity.

Gaelan eyes narrow as he locks with the Commander, "With all due respect, Sir. Likewise" The Marine's fists are clenched tightly, knuckles whitened. The tension obvious in the Majors face as he continues to stand in place and asks again in a sharp staccato rasped tone, "I will ask again. Who does Major Desusa report to? You or Me?"

Regas glances to his Officers. "Give us the room. Except for you, Major Altair, you remain."

The cigarette is quickly claimed and just as Salin is raising it to his lips, he pauses. Ruh Roh. Times two. A gaze flickers to the other's and he's looking back towards Regas, "Aye, Sir." A hand fishes into his pocket, withdrawing his lighter and he's quickly tending to his cigarette.

Rhea stands, a look flicked between Regas and Gaelan. They aren't mechanized. For which she's grateful. It allows her to scoot.

Zaharis stands up, picking up his folder. Nothing vocal, just a glance at Salin and then at Gaelan before he turns to move out.

Greje was just getting to the point of not wanting to be here for this. She moves her non-fidgity fingers from home position, shutting the laptop and putting it away. A paired snap of the case latches and a duck underneath the shoulderstrap and she stands and heads out.

"Sir," Rue says and pushes to her feet. A glance is spared towards Gaelan, then a look shot to Regas, one eyebrow arching. "After you answer him, sir. I'd like to know as well. I know who I report to. But given how closely I've worked with both of our Marine Majors, I'd like to know where my lines are, per your directive."

"Major Desusa reports to you, when he is on the Genesis. And in this instance, he will also be dealing with me. If you don't like my orders Major Gaelan, I can have your duffle packed before you can get downstairs." Regas straightens, "Is there anything else you want to add?"

Gaelan eyes glance just briefly to the other officers as the Commander issues his orders. STanding his ground the Marine looks from Salin then back to the Commander. Not calming in even the slightest. Sleepdeprived and fatigue is obviously over-ridden by adrenaline at this point, "Sir, with all due respects. I do not understand how that is suppose to function correctly. Marine's don't operate in dotted lines and variables. Either he reports to you or me. Not a conditional he kind of reports to me situation, Sir. If he is the Commander of the Pandora then I respectfully request that he does not participate in Genesis Marine Corps Missions." Ok. He can still make some sense and tact, but not very much.

Salin just sits there, puffing away on a cigarette as he takes to listening. Eyes flicker back and forth between Gaelan and Regas, waiting.

Regas sets his hands on the table, "So much for your friendship. Consider it done. Now, are you disobeying my order, Major? Are you afraid your marines can't hack it? Do they need to be tucked in by the navy so they won't lose sleep because they are too busy beating themselves up over this incident, that one more thing is going to break them?"

Gaelan eyes narrow to almost slits as he leans forward, his fists resting on the table as he looms inches from the Commander as his rasped voice quietly retorts, "You have not answered me Commander. Who does Major Desusa report to." There is a pause as he continues in the low and almost methodical tone, "With respect, Sir. Do not insult my Marines like that again. I highly recommend against trying to tarnish the honor of the Corps any more than it already has been."

Rue clears her throat from where she stands.

It's now that Salin begins to rise, a hand lifting to remove the cigarette from his lips, which is deposited carefully in the ashtray before him, "Pietr, sit down. You're treading a thin line of insubordination with the Commander, and now is not the time." Then, he's taking a slight pause, "Several of our subordinates have dotted lines to others, but we all ultimately report to the Commander and the Colonel."

"I did answer you," Regas straightens. "And you can 'all due respect' me as much as you want. When you'd rather just throw the punch. But, I'm not going to give you that satisfaction. Maybe one day. You still haven't answered me." He doesn't move his attention to Salin, but he does wait now.

Gaelan nods, "Then please clarify for me, Sir. I must have misunderstood your statement about a friendship to meaning something else." Glancing to Salin he nods slowly as he straightens as his calm but focused voice comments, "Then by your explanation during this mission Major Desusa reported to me. Since I was assigned the mission to make contact. Therefore, since the Commander has issued his orders for punishment for those Marines present. THen I need to know the punishment for my last reporting Marine. Major Desusa." Looking back to the Commander he adds, "Commander. I will not allow Staff Sergeant Scipio to do the execution. All other orders will stand, once I know the remaining punishment to pass down the chain of command."

"A week. I stated that already," Regas crosses his arms in front of him, "You won't?" He glances to Salin. "Major Altair, escort the Marine CO to his quarters. Place a guard there. He's in need of rest."

Ungh. Salin turns his attention towards Regas, a single brow arched. Then, he's giving a slight nod of his head, "As you wish, Commander. How long will this rest period be for?" He's looking over towards Gaelan, offering the man a slight shake of his head.

Gaelan eyes stay locked with Regas a moment, "Commander. I want you take the time and fully take note of where all of the Marines who are being executed originated from. Then tell me which ones are getting the awards and promotions for exceptional service." Taking a step back he shifts his Angry Marine stare to it's new target, JAGMAN! The Major walks towards him and waits patiently for his fun little escort back to his quarters.

"Until I decide otherwise." Regas simply watches the Marine, "And have Lt. Shem report to me at 0800." He doesn't comment on the other.

"Of course, Commander." Salin offers Regas a final nod of his head before he's looking back to Gaelan. That angry stare is offered nothing more then a mere shake of Salin's head. A hand lifts, motioning towards the exit, "Lets go, Pietr."

Gaelan simply nods to the JAG and steps out of the Ward Room.

Gaelan leaves for Corridor 11C [O].
Gaelan has left.

Regas picks up the folder on the table and sends it skittering across to the other end, letting the papers fly. Whether he notices Rue still lurking or not.

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