Comin' in the Air
Comin' in the Air
Summary: Praxis calls Salazar and Legacy in for a meeting.
Date: PHD 220 (11/24/09)
Related Logs: Related Logs - All of the "42" Logs
Players:
Praxis..Salazar..Legacy..

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Pass the word: Captain Althea Legacy, Ensign Salazar Nikos, report to the Ward Room immediately. I say again, Captain Legacy and Ensign Nikos to the Ward Room."

[ Ward Room - Deck 2 ]--------[ CEC Kharon ]—

This is another large room used for meetings between the Senior Officers as well as for holding reception dinners and other formal activities. A single long table of typical military issue for the Ward Room is set in the middle, while more are kept in a small closet to the side. High-backed chairs run the length of the table. Against the short length of the room at the Fore end is the line of Colonial flags in yellow brass bases, representing each colony at the same precise height. Running the unbroken wall on the longer side is a line of pictures of various men and women, all wearing either Colonel or Commanders' insignia. Below each photo is the name of each of the Kharon's commanding officers and their date of service aboard. Along the wall that falls Aft is a trio of screens that provide status reports from various departments on the ship.

Severe damage was taken to this room following what appears to be a bomb detonation. Several of the colonies' flags, including Libris, Gemenon and Caprica, have been badly burned, while others are singed from the explosion. Scorch marks cover the aft bulkhead wall and adjoining portions of port and starboard wall, and several of the chairs at the table that were destroyed, have been replaced. A new picture rests at the end of the line of photographs, depicting the late Commander Jack Sheridan.

The Ensign is waiting in the ward room by the time the others show, perched in a chair, a steaming mug of coffee in front of her, two others set off slightly to the side. The marines have been up and running just like everyone else, with a little bit less to do than CIC and the Air Wing, at least in terms of action. Patrols have continued, of course.

The least the S2 can do is show up with coffee, when she's been regularly sending CMC Pvts up to the Deck with coffee for the jocks.

Salazar wears her combat blacks sans helmet, her armor unfastened, rifle propped against the bulkhead. She stands as the XO arrives.

And yes, the XO does arrive in a fairly hastened matter, eyes glancing around the room for the other person he asked for; but it doesn't appear she has arrived yet. In his hands are a few sheets of freshly printed white paper, Praxis placing them face up on the table and spreading them out for all to see. "Ensign," finally the man says in greeting, reaching for the mug that Nikos had so graciously brought for the two of them. "I thank you for the coffee. I am hopeful that Captain Legacy will arrive in a but a few moment's time so we are able to get right down to business." With his tone of voice, it's readily apparent that there has been some sort of progress made with this whole 'Cylons are following us!' thing. With the mug in his hands, he tips some of the liquid between his lips. GACK. Marine Coffee. Disgussting.

Legacy comes in just a few minutes late, in her flight suit, hair mussed. Apparently she was out on CAP and just got back. "My apologies," she says, pulling into a salute at the sight of the XO. "I just returned from some SAR work." The tightness around her eyes indicates how she really feels, though her expression is mostly placid and professional. "Good afternoon, Ensign."

Clearly, the XO has no taste. Marine coffee is widely known to be the best coffee on the vessel. It's just a shame the right hand man isn't aware of the sheer brilliance of the brew in question. Salazar would lament this fact, if he were to utter the words of disparity aloud. Alas, she's left in ignorance, and no one may mourne the misguided conclusions achieved by the tastebuds of the CIC's very own pimp daddy Praxis.

The S2 merely says, "Sir." She could be addressing one or both of the other officers, as Legacy arrives just before the utterance.

Praxis turns around, looking Legacy right in the eye as she apologizes for her delay. Snapping the salute back in a fairly quick and dirty manner (Praxis would spend more time on it, but given the circumstances added to how long he's been awake, he doesn't have time to be all prim and proper as he usually is), he excuses the woman and gestures for the both of them to come into close proximity, despite how smelly in a flight suit one might be. Taking another sip of the allegedly brilliant but actually putrid Marine brew, he places the mug on the table and points an index finger to a bunch of raw binary data. Forget hello's, it's time to share some information. "But only a few minutes after our emergence from faster-than-light travel, Tactical's efforts to detect rogue signals emanating from our craft has finally turned something up. Thanks to Jara's reconfiguring of the sensor array and Ensign Kavi's vigilance, we've detected something /other/ than our standard Colonial ID being broadcasted from this ship." His finger taps on the page where the data is drastically different, denoting when they had received the signal. "However, after an interval of transmission, whatever is sending the signal persists to change frequencies. Ensign Kavi suggests that there may be a pattern - it may be a fact that the device is automated." He lets that sink in for the two of them before continuing.

Thea's quiet for a moment as she listens to Praxis - and yes, she and her dirty, smelly flightsuit get up close and personal with the XO. Oh, yeah baby. Gotta love the smell of Raptors, sweat and fuel in the evening. "An automated signal," she murmurs quietly, mind clearly wrapping around that. Her mind is, sadly, like an indecisive cat in a new catbed at the moment. "An automated device coming from within or on the ship," she murmurs, consideringly. "If it didn't change frequencies so fast," pause. "Or does it? Any way we can try tracking the frequency if we know how long it takes?"

The S2 nods to the XO, then retakes her seat without a salute, as he makes it clear the meeting is underway. If he were a Major or higher, she would have snapped one off, as per protocol. Besides, the higher ranking officer (Legacy) already took care of that formality. "We got pegged with a transmitter on a frequency shift? That's a bitch and a half." She's tired, the professionalism slips a little. "Standard search and destroy, I take the innie, the Captain takes the outtie?"

At this point, Demitros isn't really focused on the formalities. He allows the other two to speak before the XO responds to their queries in turn, "Our attempts to track it or jam it are as of yet unsuccessful, as it is too short of a time before the signal shifts to an unknown frequency, of which we have to scan for to locate again. The best we have been able to do, unfortunately, is determine that the signal originates on the port side of the ship, but it is unclear whether it is from the exterior or the interior." There's an inkling of a smile when Nikos gets the gist of it. "That is correct, Ensign. I am certain I do not have to remind either of you that time is of the essence."

"I've got a team ready to fly," Thea says quietly. "I just need to kidnap some engineering minded folks. I'd planned to put Birdman on this, but…" She doesn't need to say how swamped they've been with SAR. "I'll go out myself, if needs be." The Captain glances over at Salazar and just grins, nodding. "Damned straight. I wonder if our snipes have anything that can detected that a signal's being put out, period, not what frequency it's on."

There's a smirk from Salazar as the XO drops a reminder, a gentle nudge, in the form of a redundant utterance. "I'll put every available marine on it, Captain. Considering the amount of crawl spaces in the walls themselves, I'd like to request the assistance of Engineering." Which means that the marines hate shoving themselves into crawl spaces, and the S2 has absolutely no interest in running face first into another mechanical spider. Let they that spawned it smoosh it.

Praxis shakes his head slightly at Captain Legacy. "Raptor allocation and the personnel flying them is your call, Captain. However, we will of course need at least one SAR on standby for the next encounter." There's a brief pause before he answers her other question. "A pair of Engineering personnel per Raptor with EVA suits, though I'd rather simply destroying the device than having a team disembark if possible." Jade eyes flip and lock onto Salazar. "The rest go to Ensign Nikos. Consider the Engineering team at your disposal from this point forward."

"It's possible, if not probable, that they'll need to get out to extract the device if it's on the hull," Thea says quietly, consideringly. "Let me grab engineering, if I can find Captain Sen, and get out there."

Oh look, Salazar gets some new toys. She nods to the XO, glances briefly at the Captain of the raptors, and then takes a sip of the glorious marine brew. Yummeh. "Outstanding." She moves to rise. No time to violate the personal belongings of others like the present. Hm, that doesn't quite roll off the tongue, does it?

Praxis spends the few last moments rotating his gaze between the two of them, before the magic word comes. "Dismissed." He moves fowards and plants his hands on the edge of the ward room table, pondering the photo of Jack Sheridan. A thought crosses his mind - whether or not the late CO would be proud of Demitros or not. Or maybe he's just something to look at. Regardless, he stays behind while the other two leave to go carry out their jobs.

Thea glances over at Salazar and grins. "First one to find it gets a bottle of Picon Brandy," she tells the S2. Then it's a matter of saluting the XO and heading for the door. Time IS of the essence, after all.

"Sir." Ensign Nikos' utterance is both a yes, an acknowledgment and a farewell. She shoves the chair in on her way around the table, coffee still in hand. "Good Hunting, Captain," she notes to the pilot, and then she holds open the hatch. A grin answers Legacy's words. "You're on. I'll put up an excellent trash novel against that bottle."

Good, it's a game. Maybe that'll make the search happen faster before more people just go out and die. Praxis rubs at his forehead after the both of them are gone, gathering up his sheets and tucking them underneath his arm before he too progresses towards the hatchway to return to CIC.

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