Conversations Over Morpha
Conversations Over Morpha
Summary: During meeting of the Resistance and Military in the Bunker on Scorpia, some tempers flare, and some ideas are bandied about. There's also a thing with some sekrit note passing. It's kinda like high school. But on an irradiated planet. In a bunker. Over morpha.
Date: PH079 (06 July 2009)
Related Logs: Jammed Up & all Three Hour Tour logs.

Scorpia, Bunker, Medical
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #79
OOC Time: Mon Jul 06 17:46:00 2009

The sickbay here in the SATCOMM bunker is nothing fancy at all. This is especially true when looking at the bare shelves and cabinets. A pair of beds sit on each side of the room, giving the personnel here room to hold four patients. A couple of cabinets are built into the walls for storage while a desk sits near the door. Small supply crates are stacked against the wall at the rear of the room, the serial numbers doing nothing to identify the secured contents inside.

Alyssa nods. "You did well. Mild infection in the leg that I want to clean up but other than that… just stay comfortable for a second and I'll get some stuff together."

"Thanks," Jules says, a smile touching her lips again for Alyssa before her expression sobers up some. She looks Dutch's way and says, "Lost Private First Class Kaufman and Sergeant Moorehead… Raiders tore into our Raptor, some of the rounds hit. Sergeant bled out. I got out of my seat and tried to stop the bleeding, but we crashed. Ended up thumping myself but good against the bulkhead."

"Kaufman was a frak up." Which could be considered a compliment in Marine terms "And Moorehead was short before this shit started." a frown there and Dutch just shakes his head "Gods damned toaster cock-sucking.." the list seems to go on as he lights up on his bed, not too far from the hatch. A drag of his cigarette and he looks back to her. "I guess you were in the other van then when we found Fox-3..Been laid up here so I didn't have a time to check our numbers."

Salazar is reclined in a half seated position on her gurney, having had a little assistance moving last night. Her pillows are arranged to keep her comfortable. Her head tipped to the side, eyes closed. She moves, right hand rising to rub her face. Her color is better today. Hydration and rest have helped immensely. She won't be running anytime soon, but she's probably won't drop dead tomorrow. Probably. She leans over a little, eyes casting about for her pack. Grunt.

Alyssa walks back over, kneels in front of Jules and starts working away on the leg wound. "This will sting some, but no stitches. They might have helped early on but now I'd just be stabbing you for no reason." Glancing over at Salazar, she sighs. "Under your pillow, Salazar."

"They were both Marines." Jules seems to think that's enough explanation, because she leaves it at that. Lowering her gaze to the ground, she let's out a breath and says, "I heard from Master Sergeant that Captain Marek was found." To her credit, she doesn't twitch as the doc begins treating her leg. "Thank you, Doc."

"Yeah?" a raise of his brows And Dutch is rising with a deep drag and a slow exhale there. "I'll be back.." said simply to the private, or the Doc. Its hard to tell as he looks over the assembled there. Eyes trail on Salazar for a moment and he is turning and making for the hatch. Off to walk or something.

Angelica looks over to Salazar and offers a small smile. "Welcome back, Salazar," she says quietly. "I'm glad to see you made it back safe."

"If my entire pack fits under this pillow, somebody took the explosives out of it." Salazar mutters, voice a bit hoarse. She catches sight of it shoved most of the way under the gurney. She glances up as her name is called. "Safe is a relative term," the ex-marine replies. "But thanks, just the same."

Alyssa nods then starts looking at the torso, poking and prodding in a way that assumably has a purpose other than causing random bits of pain, but the patient must take the doctor's word on that one. "For the record, the medbay explosives section is the opposite side from the smoking section. Seemed a reasonable precaution."

Jules helps Alyssa out by undoing her armored vest in the front and letting it slide off her shoulders some. She's got a tank top on underneath and a bandage wrapped tightly about said torso. "Sounds smart to me. Getting blown up sounds like more fun than it probably is."

"Getting blown up is about as much fun as getting shot," Angel allows quietly. Then she looks to Salazar, head tilting. "Monty's dead." As if that will mean something.

Sal swings her legs carefully over the side of the gurney, and moves to stand. She's careful about it, her right hand gripped on the side of her bed. When she doesn't fall on her face, Salazar takes a few steps over to crouch carefully next to her pack. No leaning or bending. "I thought someone said that yesterday, but I was pretty out of it."

Alyssa keeps working on Jules torso wound, for the most part staying quiet.

Jules winces a little as her wounds are worked on, but smiles through it. Til the mention of someone being dead. Sheesh. She lowers her chin and drops the smile.

"Heart attack," is all Angel says to Salazar's words.

"There are worse ways to go," Salazar replies, her eyes on her pack. She rummages around a little more, and comes up with a collapsible tin cup, a bottle of water, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and one of several books shoved into the bottom. One by one, these things are set on her gurney with her right hand. She remains crouched beside the bed, careful not to lean, and then slides the backpack under the gurney again. She reaches up, takes hold of the gurney, and very slowly stands.

Alyssa, still all business, sits back on her haunches for second, looking at Jules torso like some kind of art critic. "Deep breath in, please?"

"Sure." Jules swallows and then sucks in a deep breath before letting it out again. "Feels good enough to get by."

Angel's on her bed, leaning back against a pillow, looking pale and quiet. Her hands are folded neatly on her lap, on top of the covers. She's looking among Jules, Alyssa and Salazar.

Kai steps inside the hatch, following the muted sound of voices out in the corridor. One was his, the other sounded like the marine CO's. Neither raised, which is probably fortuitous. His eyes flicker over the activity in the room, pausing a moment on Salazar, Timon, and finally the laid up marines. Jules, in particular, gains a long look.

Salazar takes the toothbrush and toothpaste over to the nearby wash basin, and goes about the glorious task of brushing her very own teeth. It's a little arduous, and she leans a little against the sink. She does this with her eyes closed, concentrating on remaining on her feet long enough to finish. Marines.

"If you can deal with it as is, you'll probably be fine. Keep up keeping that wound clean and you'll be fine. If anything feels off, though, let me know." Rising back to her feet, she nods to acknowledge the newcomer. "Captain, I don't think we've formally met yet. I'm Lt. Odessyeon."

Jules lifts her head and nods at Alyssa, pulling her vest back up. It's back on her shoulders and she's starting to secure the front when she spots Kai. And his eyeballing. She blinks, breaks out in a smile and lurches towards the man, hugging him tightly. "Captain, sir!" Wait, busted ribs. Ow. She steps back, hand against her chest, somehow wincing and smiling at the same time.

And so Angel catches sight of the new man in the room. Her head tilts ever so slightly to the side, then comprehension dawns as she puts a face to a name, finally. "Good evening, Captain Marek," calls the quiet girl. "Welcome. I trust you're finding everything you need?"

Kai tears his attention away from Jules for a moment, and heads toward the doctor. His hand is offered up. And if she had any doubts about his line of work.. well. He shakes like a stick jockey. "Captain Marek," he offers evenly, and quite possibly redundantly. "I wanted to thank you-" And that's right about when Jules launches herself at him for a hug, resulting in a brief grin that cracks his oft-severe expression. "-I wanted to thank you, Lieutenant. I'm not sure what we'd have done without you." The sentiment's plainly sincere. "Good morning, Sunshine." That's offered, after the fact, to Jules. No matter that it's well into evening. And to the quiet girl in the corner, "I am, thank you."

The tattooed ex-marine leans against the sink, finishes up her teeth, and runs water to rinse. She wipes her lower lip with the back of her hand. Salazar brushes her fingers through her hair, and turns to face the room. "Where's the Head?" One thing at a time. She leaves the toothbrush and paste where it is. Only one good hand here.

Alyssa shakes the offered hand, smiling at Jules' reaction. "An honor, Captain. An absolute honor." Turning to Salazar she nods toward the door. "Would you like a shoulder to help you there?" She thinks she knows the answer, but old habits mean she has to offer.

"Morning," Jules fires back. "I'd heard… well. They said you were dead. But I didn't think you were. I just figured you'd gotten lost and you totally did and now you're here." Someone's got a little of their pluck back. In fact, she perks up when Alyssa suggests Salazar getting some help to the bathroom. "Oh! I can help!" She thrusts herself that way, glancing back towards Kai with a grin that almost brims over and over to Sal's side, offering her arm.

Angel simply watches Kai and Jules, a bit wide-eyed, a bit surprised. To Salazar, she points toward the door. "Down the hall, to the left," she says in a low, quiet voice. There's something solemn about her. She doesn't interrupt the reunion, though.

Salazar nods slightly and takes Jules up on the offer as the peppy marine makes her way over. She has to get to know the Corps somehow. This is as good a way as any. "Name and specialty, Private?" She slides her arm across the little blonde's shoulders. The two wander off that way, with Salazar muttering, "Don't bounce so much, I'm old and infirm here." Comparatively speaking. "Hades."

"Honour's mine, Lieutenant," Karim offers genuinely. He's not one to smile much, but nor does his tone of voice hold any rancor. His eyes settle on Jules while she speaks, like a little teakettle whistling and threatening to spill over. The corners of his eyes crinkle a touch with amusement. "I'm glad to see you too, Private." Just before she bounces off to help Salazar, of course. Then back to Alyssa. "How are your patients doing, doctor?"

Alyssa glances around the room with a sigh. "Shot up, bruised, and in pain because we don't have enough morpha for anything but the worst cases, but… Ashe over there is the worst off and barring some dramatic downturn I'm pretty sure that we're even going to get him back to operating capacity." She smiles after Jules. "Still, chemicals aren't the only painkillers. Some work better than others."

And so the young woman in the corner remains otherwise quiet, studying Kai as he talks to Alyssa. She's still, almost preternaturally so.

Kai's gaze flickers to the quiet girl once or twice, perceptive fellow that he is. But she's neither approached nor addressed directly for the time being; the majority of his attention's on Alyssa. "You're competent, efficient and professional, Lieutenant. You'll get them back into working condition again." A breath. "We're running out of time, however, in terms of getting a message through to our ship. The cylons are quite possibly rebuilding those towers we took down, as we speak. I'm holding a meeting tonight, and while this space isn't ideal.. I'd like to have opinions from everyone, including the infirmed."

Alyssa nods. "Ashe was carried two days on that gurney, a trip to wherever you want to take him in the bunker will be fine so long as he isn't dropped. Everyone else should be mobile and awake enough." Glancing at Ashe, she bites her lip. "He's a tough kid, as well, so he'll probably refuse meds to be able to take part. Keep that in mind, is all I can ask. And captain…" she looks Marek in the eye. "I really hate taking bullets out of people. They never let me keep them as souvenirs. So plan good, eh?"

"Captain Marek," Angel speaks up, finally. "If you'd like, I don't think the doctor would object to the meeting being in here. She'll be close to her patients, they won't have to be moved, and I think we can fit. Most folks seem friendly." There's a hint of a smile on her lips. "I could ask my folks to bring in something to eat for the meeting, so that everyone will be comfortable. This isn't easy, so every little bit of comfort helps."

Kai nods once to the doctor, and is about to offer something further when Angelica interrupts. His head turns slightly toward the girl, blue eyes fixing on hers in the direct manner he often favours. "If it isn't going to be a hassle for the doctor, then that'd work just fine." He glances back to Alyssa, as if to confirm.

Alyssa looks around. "If you don't mind the coziness, that will be fine, sir."

Angel looks over to Alyssa and offers her a soft smile. "Doc, can you spread the word, please, and ask Phai to bring some dinner up when he comes?"

"I think coziness is a fact of life at the moment, Lieutenant. We won't mind at all." Karim nods once more to the doctor, then bustles off to start tidying things away a little, to give people room to settle.

Alyssa nods. "Nothing makes a desperate planning session better than some curry. I'll find Phai." With a nod, she walks towards out the door to get the others.

Jade comes into the medbay, wondering what these people have in mind now. She moves over to find a comfy spot, and settles in.

Legacy strides in, flannel shirt cadged from somewhere tossed over her tanks and uniform pants, the same outfit she's been wearing since the Raptor went down. She seems relaxed, laid back, especially when she dips her head to Kai, smiling.

Roubani heads into medical at the back of a clump of people in his fatigue pants and tanks. PDA clipped to his belt, he leans a shoulder against the side wall and folds his arms, back kept formally straight. The little gray stylus of the handheld is behind his ear, taking up the mantle of the pencils that were always present in that spot when he was at work on the Kharon.

Timon, for his part, has propped himself up on the cot on which he's spent the last few days and nights, still blinking away some crust from his eyes — under which, for the first time in several months, are visible no bags, wrinkles, or anything along those lines. Sleep — even enforced sleep — does a body good.

Angel's sitting quietly on her bed, propped up against the pillow. She looks pale and a little tired, holding her arm across her abdomen protectively.

Kai is helping to tidy the place a little, in preparation for the impromptu meeting tonight. The occupied beds are left alone, of course, though he's clearing any iv stands and mobile carts to the side, so people have room to gather and converse. Thea receives a glance over his shoulder when she enters, and a flicker of a smile.

Alyssa walks in from doing her rounds, announcing the meeting, and heads to the back of the room, leaning against it so she can keep an eye on her patients and the preceedings.

Salazar returns to the room shortly, though without Jules. Seems the marines parted ways sometime after they reached the Head. The black haired marine is slow moving. She's better, but still pretty thrashed, and then there's the small matter of the chest wound and the left arm that is too sore to use. Bullets. What a pisser.

Komnenos enters the medical bay, joining the rest as he prepares for the start of the briefing. He seems to have made some effort to look presentable; he's showered and discarded his tattered flightsuit, and his twin tanks and green pants look as clean as they have since his arrival on Scorpia. His wounds are on the mend as well; most of the scars on his face are clearing up well, though there's one on his cheek that looks as though it could be a permanent memento. Thorn also is carrying a PDA, using his stylus to tap at its display with a studious frown as he walks.

Of puff of smoke might give Dutch away in the crowd, but the Medic is reaming back close to the beds and walls, closest to the hatchway-given that he just slipped in from sentry duty. Cigarette is not extinguished, rather gun is leaned up by where he idly reclines. All ears is the Corpsman, or something close to it.

Kai steps closer to Alyssa, and speaks quietly with the woman a moment while people filter in.

Roubani watches the toe of his boot for a while, then his eyes flicker around at the gathered faces. Then at Timon, then Kai, then back into the growing crowd. His thumb scratches gently at his upper arm.

Timon's still a bit out of it, but he does acknowledge Thorn, and Poet, and Thea, and — well, everybody from the Kharon's Air Wing, really, with a single bleary nod. He's quiet. One hand rises to scratch at his nose, brushing past a week's worth of stubble as he does.

Thorn's eyes slide over to Ivory's bed. Seeing the man's awake, and lucid enough to acknowledge people, Komnenos pulls up a chair next to it and offers a few murmured words to the recovering pilot.

Angel scoots back on the bed a little and folds her legs, leaving half of it free. "If anyone needs a seat, I know we've got limited audience room." Her voice is quiet, but it carries in the room.

Jules comes back in from the direction of the head, looking surprisingly refreshed. Which is to say, she's had a shower and got to rinse out her clothing while she was at it. Which is to say she's soggy looking, but in a good way. Popping back into the sick bay, she reclaims her machine gun and helmet from the wall they were leaning up against and smiles, shoving said helmet back onto her head.

Kai nods slightly to Alyssa. His expression's mildly sympathetic, though gods only know what was being discussed. Seeing as most everyone who should be here, is, he heads for one of the counters along a side wall and hoists himself up carefully. Maybe to give his injured leg a rest, as much as anything. "Okay, let's get started. Captain Legacy, Lieutenant McTiernan-" He looks to each one in turn. "-feel free to jump in any time, if you have something pertinent to add. The rest of you, please try not to talk all at once. As I'm sure you're all aware, we're going to be attempting to contact our ship, the Kharon, and arrange for a taxi ride off this junker. Captain Legacy and I have discussed a few ideas and a few pitfalls, but I'd like to get some input on the rough plan we've outlined— assuming we make contact. I'd also like to get Lieutenant Komnenos and Ensign Roubani to give a short status report on the drone they've been refitting to send our signal."

Thea, for her part, makes her way over to Timon's bedside, reaching out to put a hand lightly on the man's shoulder, assuming it's uninjured. It's a gentle touch, one that lets him know she's there. At Kai's words, she offers the other Captain a small smile and a nod.

Roubani is not one for crowds. Neither Angel's bed nor Timon's side get approached right now, though there's a faint smile when he notes the Raptor pilot blearily awake. It then fades as Kai starts and his eyes go that way, regaining their solemnity.

Salazar makes her way through the assembled, taking it easy. She pauses to lean against Dutch, right hand dropping on the tall marine's shoulder. "Hook me up with a hit, Sergeant." Yes, yes. She's after his smoke. She also says that very quietly. No one mind Sal. Except you, Dutch. Mind!

McTiernan leans back against the wall at her back and listens. Her gaze remains focused on Spider and she waits for him to continue giving a nod to indicate she heard and understood his words.

Eying the smoking marines and then forcing herself to not care, Alyssa simply waits for meeting to proceed. Her part, as always, would come after, when it was time to deal with holes in the plan caused by bullets.

"G'morning," Timon whispers to those comrades-in-arms who've gathered around his cot, his thin voice straining to make itself heard: it has, after all, spent the better part of the past week unused. Delicate scars trace jagged patterns across his exposed shoulders and neck, patterns even Legacy's gentle fingers will have a hard time avoiding. But no, the pilot is in no evident pain as he smiles a loopy smile that accentuates his crooked nose.

Jules moves along over towards Angelica's bed, but doesn't sit, smiling at the girl and taking up a position leaning against the nearest wall. "Don't want to wet your bed," she notes quietly to the girl, then pauses, blinking and smiling sheepishly.

Jade crosses her arms in front of her, as she lets her eyes scan around the room.

Angelica chuckles softly as she looks up at Jules, then shakes her head. "It's ok," she tells the other woman. "It's somewhere soft for you to sit, just for a few minutes. I don't mind."

"Don't smoke it all princess.." mutters Dutch softly, before he is passing the cigarette back over to Salazar. A glance over to the tattoo'd woman, before he's looking forward. One hand reaching up to ease a thumb along his collar. Other than that it seems the Sergeant isn't saying much. Maybe actually focused on what they are going to do-yeah good call there.

Mission accomplished, Salazar pats Dutch's arm, and takes off with his cigarette in her mouth. That is to say she starts walking again, mutters, "Thanks, Sarge," and then heads for her gurney before all this activity makes her drugs metabolize too quickly. The price of princessing is losing a cig.

Kai untucks a small notepad from one of his pockets while he talks. It's the standard-issue to all pilots, designed to fit into a flight suit, though he's in a t-shirt and fatigues at the moment. Neither look to be his. "Assuming contact is made, we'll need to set up a rendezvous point somewhere on the ground. Which obviously presents a problem, in terms of moving this many people from here.. to there. Kharon is also going to encounter significant opposition in the air. If there is any way we can mitigate that, from raiding anti-aircraft batteries to bombing refueling facilities, we'll need to get the recon work done for that, and launch strikes in quick succession. There are two assets we need to protect: the viper production facility and storage plant, and the tylium tanks. We have positive intel that the former is still in one piece, and might make a good rendezvous site." He pauses a moment to look up from his notes. "I realise it's a lot to digest, but if anyone has anything to add or point out, now's the time."

Since Angelica insists it's okay, Jules goes ahead and takes a seat on the corner of the woman's bed, listening quietly to the mission-y talk.

Roubani's brows are in their permanently tense position, drawn together sharply enough to make lines appear on his face. Though one starts to arch at the mention of a viper production facility in good shape. ORLY.

"Bitch.." muttered softly, again, as he watches Salazar saunter off towards her gurney. Ain't like Dutch is going to come after her for a cigarette. Instead he's patting himself down for that pack again. Leafed open he is counting how many he has left, before frowning softly. One's pulled out, and then another which is turned into the Lucky cigarette, and placed back in. Eyes scan back up to Kai, as his lighter comes up. A grumble to himself, and he's quickly lighting back up. Drag, and an ease of frakking things before he is back into the zone.

Alyssa closes her eyes, cataloguing the information in her head. No mention of functioning medical facilities, of course, but then, why would anyone care about that?

Thorn listens attentively, more or less, as Kai begins to address the group. He starts idly tapping his PDA against his leg; the smell of cigarette smoke grabs his attention like blood to a shark. He's running low, though, and he's going to have to stand and speak himself sooner or later, so the pack stays in his pocket for now. Besides, as much as he'd like to tweak Ivory by smoking right next to him, the fact that the man's in a hospital bed makes the idea seem, well, rather boorish.

Jade hmms, as she listens. Shaking her head at the military thinking. Abandon everything and run away.

This sounds like familiar ground for McT as she listens. A sharp look sides in Dutches direction and holds there coldly for a long moment before she glances back at Kai. "Has there been a decision made among the resistance as to who will be evacing with us and who has chosen to remain behind, Captain?"

Angel finally speaks up when McTiernan asks that question. "My people have not had a meeting since you all arrived. It is something I think we'll need to discuss." She looks around, meeting the eyes of the resistance folks present. All two of them.

Sal shoves the cig into her mouth, and rises her good arm to acknowledge Dutch. She doesn't speak again, since this is a meeting, but the intent is clear. She hip checks her gurney, then scoots onto the edge. Grunt. "There's a lot of raider in the Northwest, up past the cabin." What cabin? Karim knows. "I never got too close, but the traffic tells me air support would be absolutely crucial to any missions in the area." At the words from McT, Sal looks over to Angel. Her dark eyes stay there a moment, but she remains quiet on the subject of possible relocation.

Kai sends a long look Jade's way, before shifting his attention to the marine CO. "There hasn't, Lieutenant. Though you make a good point. I'd ask that they inform myself, Captain Legacy or you, of their intentions once we make initial contact with the ship." He looks to Salazar then, and nods once. "If we can extrapolate any numbers, at all, from your reports, it would be tremendously helpful."

Alyssa looks up. "You are anticipating multiple contacts, Captain? Or will this be a call for help then sit pretty till it arrives mission? If possible, I would appreciate if we could request medical supplies from the Kharon. Our supplies have been hit pretty hard over the last couple of weeks, and there might not be another outside source for some time." The exact question of what Alyssa would be doing goes unanswered, though the "we" seems to place her with the resistance.

Roubani's dark eyes flicker from person to person as they speak. So far he's been silent, but not unattentive. His eyes are sharp, absorbing and processing.

Jade hmmms, "well myself…I'm not gonna abandon my home. Though I do have a couple questions…when did we decide this to be the best course of action. I mean, the stuff your talking about is going to draw attention and cause more trouble. I think it's best to do nothing…this ship your trying to communicate with, will leave, and this enemy will folow after them. Then things will calm down around here, and we can get back to things."

Legacy remains where she is by Ivory, listening, eyes moving from person to person as they speak.

Timon settles back against his pillow and burrows deeper into his sheets, drawing them up above his knees to cover everything up to his chin. The woman who suggests doing nothing, though, receives a sharp look that's accompanied by a bit of crust that falls from eyebrow to lap.

Komnenos shoots a Thorn-glare over at Jade as she speaks, but says nothing. He seems just as enthusiastic about the concept of staying on Scorpia as she does about phoning the Kharon. After a moment, though, the glare subsides and his eyes go back to dividing their attention between Kai and the notes on his PDA.

"That would be the reason I was asking," McT offers to Jade. "A balance is something we need to find if both sides of this coin are to pull from this what they need." At least, that's how the Marine sees it.

Dutch snorts from where he is positioned back over by the hatch. a thick thing of smoke leaving his nostrils. "Yeah because doing nothing in a war is always the best gods damned option. While we're at it, lets bury our heads, and stick our thumbs up our asses.." Not exactly the best words to mutter to one's self in the middle of the briefing or such. But them's the Sergeant's thoughts.

Kai turns back to Alyssa after some moments of studying Salazar, then untucks his pen from a pocket and starts jotting something down on his notepad. "I hate to say it, Lieutenant, but our own supplies are probably not faring much better. And down here, there's the possibility of raiding existing stores. If anything, we're going to need to find a way to replenish, ourselves, soon." As to the first, "I don't think there'll be any sitting, period. We need to move those who are going, out of this bunker and to the rendezvous point without giving away this location to any air or ground patrols. And we will, in all likelihood, need to provide support from the ground while our ship deploys raptors."

Jade's comments cause an abrupt halt in the scratching of pen on paper, and he lifts his eyes to her with veiled incredulity. "With respect, madam, we are at war. Not me, not my ship, not my people. But our civilisation. Doing 'nothing' is not an option, though if you choose to remain, I have no right to tell you otherwise. Your survival, however, may depend on our action."

"It's a relevant concern," Roubani comments, mildly. "For those choosing to stay behind, we will have to be mindful of attracting attention to this place, which may be the only secure location they have."

"Right now," Angel says quietly. "This IS the only secure location we have. The crash of the first Raptor was one mile from Gladwell Resort, one of our two secure locations. And it was right on the way to our second secure location. This was our fallback, and we had to fall back to it before we were ready. Luckily, there were enough uninjured Resistance members to bring everything down here. I understand the concern," she says, nodding to Jade. "This…was a surprise to all of us. But I think we need to consider working together rather than trying to separate things." All of this coming from a kid. "My first priority for the Resistance is survival and taking care of my people. The second priority is getting you, and those who wish to go with you, back to your ship. I'm willing to do everything I can to assist with that, and I'd hope other members of the Resistance will assist. However, I will order no one to do so."

Alyssa shrugs uncomfortably. "I was afraid of that. If we're going to be supplying you… we need to find a medical cache in a hurry. I was nervous about the first winter here even before we started having to treat gunshot wounds." With that, Alyssa blinks, realizing for the first time that she has decided to stay behind.

"How far is this viper production plant from here, approximately?" Roubani asks this of Kai, or Salazar, or whoever seems to have the answers around here.

Jade says, "With due respect, we were suriving pretty good, till you dropped hellfire into our laps. We'd still be at the resort, if you handn't crashed on top of it." She shrugs a bit, "Me, I'm not at war…I'm trying to survive. And I get the feeling, that if you hung around..the odds of that would go down. Stirring up a hornets yes, yes..lets work to get them back to their ship.""

Salazar digs around in her pack for a different novel than the one she pulled out before. The paperback she chooses in some ancient bodice ripper picked up from a truck stop in Osprey perhaps. But no, it's got a much more sordid history. She doesn't comment, just sits back on her bed and begins flipping through it for the notes she penned in the margins whilst on recon. Her writing is in shorthand, code, and ridiculously tiny. She skims through while the talk continues. Now where was that grossly overwritten sex scene in the shower…

Jules leaaaaaaans out of the way as Angelica speaks up. When the girl does, she peers over her shoulder and listens intently, a little wide eyed at what's coming out of her.

"Ah, this must be where everyone is hiding." The voice belonging to the man who has self identified himself as Alexander Nikolo chimes up as he makes his way into the medical area of the bunker. Stepping back a bit, he stops and slips to the side noticing the rather numerous amount of people present.

Kai shakes his head to Alyssa. "I wouldn't worry about it, yet. We'll hold out for now, though if you could provide an inventory of what's needed, and how long your critical supplies will last, we'll take it into consideration." He turns back to Jade, and offers quite simply, "Bullshit. And if you've got nothing constructive to add to this discussion, madam, you're welcome to leave." He looks toward Roubani without missing a beat, and checks his notes again. "Roughly nine kilometres east of Osprey, Ensign."

Nine kilometres. Roubani's eyes flicker and he glances down, sliding his PDA off his belt. His thumb taps over a couple keys, perhaps crunching some numbers.

Angel's quiet for a moment, then says quietly, "Jade? This is supposed to be a constructive meeting. We can discuss your concerns when this is over. Yes, we're trying to survive - but so are they. There's a very good chance that, by working together, both groups can do what they need to, and maybe get somewhere in this war. They won't always be able to remain up there, and we may not always be able to remain down here."

Dutch is biting his tongue as he looks back towards them folks speaking about them and us. No, he's not apt to press one iota one way or the other in this. And so he looks back towards the front. He's good at this listening game

Dmitri leans in, looking around the crowded medical bay for a long moment, brows arching upwards in a dark curve. "What'n the hells is goin' on in here. Someone decide t'hold a party an' not invite me?" A pause. "Did we break open the good drugs?"

Komnenos' attention, too, is still on his PDA, although he's not worried about Viper production centers or number crunching. If anyone's looking, they can see what looks like schematics for a communication on his screen — before the thing starts vibrating and the schematics are replaced by a blinking message. He purses his lips thoughtfully before quickly scribbling a reply and switching back to the schematics.

Alyssa already has her notebook out, and is sketching out her thoughts on what will be needed.

Timon's curly hair droops over his eyes; lazily, one hand reaches to brush it back. Nobody's thought to give the injured fellow a haircut — and given the gravity of the issues being discussed, it's clear that the group has more important things to deal with. In the meantime, he glances at Thorn, then Poet, then back again. Brown eyebrows rise: he sees progress.

It's not a second after Thorn finishes typing that Roubani's PDA makes a nearly silent vibrating sound. The high-tech version of passing notes in class is going on here. He glances at the screen and his lips purse. Thumbs taps back a message, quickly so he doesn't miss too much of what's being said around him.

Jade shrugs, "Oh, where are my manners…the military believe their in charge of everything. So everyone else must be wrong." As she pushes off, walking for the door. She turns to Angel, "Well, maybe if they treated people like people. And it's hard to be constructive when you listen to them. They've got it all planned out already, they just want someone to nod their head and go, yep..great idea sir. I mean, half the suits in here haven't said one word, they just sit there listening, with that look of yes sir, whatever you say we'll do it. Afraid to speak…." With that she steps out into the hall.

Kai doesn't seem to have the skill, time, or inclination toward diplomacy tonight. Those that are used to Legacy's methods, might find it jarring. Or they might just expect it from a military man. Either way, he appears unapologetic. "To be frank," he addresses the group, "I don't give a shit about lines in the sand between civilians and military. We all need to survive this war intact. We all need to rebuild. My prerogative is to get my people, back to our ship. I realise that doesn't go for all of you, but we have to look beyond our immediate survival." He looks to Angelica then, and nods slightly. Acknowledgement, and perhaps agreement. Not a word more is spoken to the woman who turns to slip out.

Dmitri glances back over his shoulder, watching Jade slip past, and then he looks to the rest of the gathering— asking in deadpan tones as he steps inside, "Want me to go shoot her? We'd have more supplies then." He's probably kidding. Probably. It's kind of hard to tell, with Dmitri.

Alyssa gives Dmitri a look. "Please don't, I'd just have to take it out again."

Angel looks over at Dmitri and laughs quietly. "We'd have more supplies, but we'd be down a bullet." Then she turns back to Kai and dips her head. "What plan do you have for when your ship answers the call?"

"She didn't sound like she was having a good day," Jules mumbles under her breath, looking first to Angelica and then across the room at Alex, eyeing the man.

The abrupt exit doesn't particularly appear to ruffle Roubani, whose mind is busy turning over whatever just went between him and Thorn. He keeps the PDA in hand but lets it rest against his leg, focusing back on the talking.

"Then you'd be out a bullet," Kai points out drily to Dmitri. Well, someone had to say it. He, too, is probably not serious. "Before we move on to other matters, are there any comments or questions from the Kharon crew, regarding our evacuation from the bunker? I'm quite certain I haven't covered all contingencies, so speak the frak up if you have something to say."

Timon's not afraid to speak; oh no. If the act of talking audibly didn't feel like shoving a razor down his throat, he'd most likely have spoken up by now. Instead, one hand reaches over to tap his CO on the shoulder before whispering under his breath: "So — Kharon's listening?" That'd be news to him.

"Knock yourself out." Dutch mutters towards Dmitri before he's looking to the doctor. It seems them line in the sand antics might need to happen, so they know who t' cull out. Not kill mind you, but don't frakking waste time saving their asses either. Kai speaks up and there's a hand raised for a second.

Samantha is looking signifigantly better, and her hair seems to have even ceased slightly coming out, though it's definitely thinner than before. Anti-rad meds, medical treatment, and water do wonders for a woman. She steps into the room, mainly because the crowd is there, a stolen cigarette between her lips already lit. The Lieutenant doesn't quite interrupt yet, brows lofted, eyes watching the situation…

With all the cigarettes in evidence about the room, it's probably a testament to Kai's willpower that he hasn't lit up by now. His hand's most assuredly strayed to his pocket once or twice before resettling on his lap. He's still perched on one of the counters in an effort to keep his weight off the injured leg. "Shoot, Elder," he directs toward Dutch.

Another nearly inaudible buzz and this time Thorn is the one who's got mail. He reads quickly, and although he refrains from replying, it's clear whatever he's read has his mental gear working. He stares off into space with an oddly distant expression for a moment before focusing on Kai once again. He heard the captain's question, but doesn't seem to have anything to say aloud for the moment.

"Sergeant Elder, that will be enough," McT orders. "If you have something useful to add then do so, other wise keep the peanut gallery comments to yourself." Yes, she slides this in there before he can open his mouth again.

Roubani watches Thorn's face for a moment while the man reads the message, and his lips thin into a humourless half-smile. There's a slight spark in his dark eyes. Then he gently chews on the corner of his lip, thoughtfully, as he looks over at Dutch.

Oh look, it's Cyrus. His once pristine, gimmicky sarcastic tourist t-shirt is stained with grease and a bit of blood. It seems he's cut himself again. It's probably better to be accident-prone when you're not really doing life threatening. He ducks inside the sickbay, which has become the de facto meeting place for the Resistance most of the time. He's scrubbing at his hands with a paper towel. "Whoah."

Dmitri's tongue clicks to the roof of his mouth. "You're right, there," he admits at Kai's words, seeming honest about his disappointment. He leans back against the wall then, one foot skimming up to brace to it, arms folded over his chest as he listens to the conversation ongoing.

Samantha is quiet, thoughtful, watching, but for once she's learning to keep her mouth shut… she lingers back and to the side of the room, just listening..

Alyssa smiles at the other resistance members, then looks up at Kai, waiting for the rest of the plan.

Dutch looks towards McT for a moment, and there is a roll of his shoulder for a second. "Given what we have left, and that we'll be moving out and all that shit-uh Sir. I figger we need to see what we all have right now in the means of medical, and take what can be used in combat, leave the rest. Like we aren't going to need flu shots and shit- but we will need morpha- quickclot, and bandages to name a few. Might as well see what the frak we have before we go. Sir. Might help us know what to hit first as well."

Daphne pulls the door open carefully, her motions professional and rather elegant as always. She's managed to get her suit almost looking clean and somehow half pressed (she must fold it quite, quite neatly every night), her black hair damn and carefully twisted back at the base of her throat. She lofts both brows, seeing the crowded room, a few more new faces. That makes her smile as she crosses in the group's direction…

Kai nods to Dutch, and toys with his pen between his fingers. "As I've mentioned to the doctor, I'd like to get an inventory of what medical supplies are accounted for, and what's needed. I obviously don't want to put any more strain on already dwindling stocks. I'll leave you in charge of determining what we'll need, at absolute minimum, for the move out of here." He looks to Thea then. "We're going to need a significant distraction in order to draw attention away from this bunker, and Captain Legacy's suggested a couple of key points in Osprey that might provide that for us. Lieutenant McTiernan, I'd like you to coordinate with the Captain, and determine what you'll need, in terms of people and supplies, to cause a significant ruckus. Any other questions or concerns before I move on?"

Cyrus doesn't actually comment further than his initial comment about the big, happy party present in the place. He meanders over towards the corner and lingers a bit, crossing his arms and really not doing anything except furrowing his thick, dark eyebrows and darting his gaze from side to side, person to person.

At the mention of a ruckus being created, Roubani's eyes again dart to Thorn with some silent communication on there. He then looks back at the group. Cyrus gets a slight nod of greeting.

"How big a distraction you want will be in equal measure to how much we're going to leave behind for those remaining behind," McT answers carefully.

Thea has been, for the most part, remaining quiet next to Ivory's bedside as she listens to the conversation going round and round. At the mention of coordination, she nods, once.

Dutch nods. He'll recommend a route when he sees everything laid out and can do a full count there. With that known, it'll be easier to see where they need to raid, what they need to get and where to move from there. A glance is given back to the Lieutenant before he's taking to figuring out needs in his head.

Thorn meets Roubani's glance. This time, the two men seem to be on the same page. He clears his throat and raises his hand. "Captain Marek?" he interjects. "We might also be able t' use this distraction t' cover our launch of the drone, as well. Kill two birds with one stone, and all that." He stops there, though; he can wait to speak more specifically on the matter until he's asked to give his report, unless Kai decides he wants to elaborate further.

"Pretend for a moment…" Alyssa ventures, "That I was too much into figureing out the best way to keep a heart beating when its full of holes and so missed out on combat triangulation, but on a wild guess, unless the pick-up point is osprey itself, anyone making your distraction is going to be very hardpressed to reach an evac point."

Daphne clears her throat, looking over towards McTiernan, "Well… I was hoping we could convince everyone to join us. That is, if your ship will have us. If we are to have any open of survival…rebuilding… we'll need every person we can get." Daphne states rather firmly, almost hopefully, keeping a strength to her voice that might even be more recognizable than her face — The Piconese delegate to the Quorum.

"Enough to get us out of here, undetected," the CAG answers evenly. "I trust in your expertise and judgement, Lieutenant." Kai flips to the next page in his little notepad. "All of this, of course, is contingent upon communication being established with the Kharon, which.. if I could get Lieutenant Komnenos and Ensign Roubani to speak on in a moment, please." He gestures with two fingers in a little 'come hither' manner. His eyes shift to Thorn, and he shakes his head slightly. "We need communication established sooner rather than later. And it would be dangerous to leave this bunker until we've confirmed Kharon is out there, and making plans for an extraction. I'm afraid you'll have to figure something else out." Alyssa's point is acknowledged with a nod, though not spoken on just for the moment, and Daphne slid a sidelong glance for her commentary. "Those amongst the civilian populace who choose to remain, do so under their own volition, madam. But I'm afraid the rest of us are in the midst of a military operation, and that doesn't include making babies just yet." He nods again to Thorn and Roubani, apparently giving them the floor.

Dmitri slants an amused glance over at Legacy, for some reason.

Legacy glances over at Dmitri at the same time and tries, desperately, not to grin. She pointedly looks back toward Kai.

Ivory perks up as Kai cedes the floor to Chessmaster and ECO, his sheets rustling as he sits up.

The chessmaster is not a spotlight-grabber. Roubani seems in the middle of trying to twist something in his head when he hears his name, which is slightly jarring. He stops slouching against the wall at least, but floor rights go to Thorn first.

Thorn rises with a sidelong glance at Roubani. Well, it wasn't a bad idea. He strides to the front of the room, clearing his throat as he begins to speak. "As Captain Marek mentioned, we were able t' recover Foxbat-3's com drone before leaving Paros." His eyes flick down to his PDA and he scribbles something quickly with his stylus before continuing. "Chief Fenix has been able t' repair the drone, and we're now working on restoring the bunker's communication equipment. The equipment itself is functioning, but we need t' bypass the system's access key before we can continue." Another look at his notes on the PDA, and he takes a breath before continuing.

Kai gives in, finally, to the desire for a cigarette. He slips one out while Thorn's speaking, and lights up quietly.

Daphne frowns just a moment to Kai, her arms crossing her chest at his words as she considers the military operation part of that all. "I would be quite curious to hear what the objective of the Kharon's mission is right now, considering the war does seem quite lost already? Perhaps it's not my place to ask, but I'm the last elected representitive of the people, as far as I'm aware. Once you all manage to return to your ship… if that is managable, what is the game plan?" Daphne is utterly professional, her voice tempered and respectful but also dead serious about the matter, concern clouding behind her eyes and her arms folding smoothly across her chest. "And you'll forgive me… Captain Marek, is it? I'm Daphne Graystone. Not certain if we've been properly introduced…"

The primly dressed civilian woman's interjection is met with another Thorn-glare and a curt "Excuse me, ma'am." Someone's a bit prickly about being interrupted. Then, it's back to business. "Ensign Roubani and I believe we can hack through the security, although Mr. Korosti's expertise might also be helpful in that arena." A nod to Cyrus. "Once we gain full access t' the com systems, we'll begin integrating the drone with the bunker's systems. I have two ideas about how t' actually use the drone once integrated — a brute force approach and a more finesse-based approach. The brute force plan is rather more wasteful in terms of resources; the finesse plan is slightly higher risk but, in my opinion, could also be higher reward." Another pause as he gathers his thoughts before continuing his report.

Kai shifts slightly on the counter, so he can tuck his cigarettes away again. His eyes drift curiously to Daphne when she introduces herself. "We'll discuss it after we've finalised a plan for communications, Ms. Graystone." Not quite a shutdown, but he's hardly warm and affable about it either. Then, "Go on, Thorn."

Roubani stays restrained as Thorn starts and then Daphne cuts in. If there's anything to be said, the reticent Ensign holds onto it for now.

Alyssa tries to catch Daphne's eyes, and pull her over with a head-nod.

A deeper than usual nod to Kai, and the blond ECO is back to his report. "The former approach uses the drone almost like a signal flare. We program it t' relay a coded, high-frequency burst transmission from the surface. On one hand, it'll be near impossible for the Kharon or her parasite ships t' miss it; on the other, it's not exactly subtle. If our people don't miss it, any Cylon forces in the vicinity of Scorpia won't either, and it's basically a one-shot attempt. If it fails, the drone won't have enough power t' try again… and that's if the Cylons don't shoot it down. I'll address those points again in a moment; as for the second approach…"

"The Cylons will shoot it down," Timon murmurs. Those more than a few feet away will see his lips move but hear nothing but a few sibiliant syllables; his comment is intended — whether by circumstance or by choice — for those immediately beside him.

Dutch is quiet as he glances between those talking. Another drag before he's dropping his cigarette to the floor, and mashing it out, since its now close to its own mortal coil.

Angelica remains quiet, listening to those around her. Though when Daphne speaks, her lips thin ever so slightly.

Daphne is content to go quiet for now, listening to Kai and bowing her head simply as they go back to the plans. She steps slightly in Alyssa's direction, leaning closer to the woman but still watching the various military folks.

Kai drags from his cigarette, brows furrowed while he listens to Komnenos speak. He doesn't interject, merely nods slightly to indicate for him to continue again.

"…as I mentioned, it's a little more high risk, high reward. Instead of a signal flare, we use the thing more like…" Thorn pauses, searching for a metaphor everyone will understand. It's hard for the ECO to avoid slipping into too much technical jargon, but he's doing his best. "… say, a wiretap, but in reverse. We deploy the drone, but keep it in low orbit and use it t' send low-power coded transmissions t' anything waiting in orbit. This, however, presumes a bit more than the first plan, namely that Kharon will have ships deployed waiting for such a signal, and it makes finding a way to shield the drone from detection rather more important than in the first scenario. This does, however, allow for more flexibility, as we will have multiple opportunities t' communicate and coordinate our activities with Kharon." From his tone, he sounds like he's channeling his teaching assistant days as a grad student, lecturing a classroom full of bored undergrads on the basics of computer science rather than a bunker full of hardened warrior-types trying to figure out how to survive.

Kai's eyes might be glazing over a little, at the protracted explanation of technical details he only barely understands. But he gets the gist of it, apparently, as his notetaking concludes with a pointed look toward Thorn. "We'll go with the second plan, Lieutenant. Unless anyone can give me a good argument otherwise." He looks briefly to Legacy, then back to Komnenos. "Can you have something up by tomorrow morning?" Well, nothing like the direct approach.

Roubani has of course heard this all before, so his silence is less one of confusion than biding his time. At the mention of having it up by tomorrow he glances at his watch. All-nighter from hell baby, yeah.

Legacy dips her head, once, to Kai - indicating her support of his decision - and her lack of comment. her eyes? Glazed. Utterly. Like the girlfriend who just got the 3 hour explanation of football.

Dutch merely shifts where he is standing. If this thing is about to a close he'll slip on out to get to look at what all the marine's have between the squad, and fire teams in general-and then see what he can take from the doc. More or less, this is the waiting part of the Hurrying up scenario.

Timon's not bored — oh no. On the contrary, he actually looks interested, as befits somebody who dabbles as an ECO when he's not flying Raptors — or crashing them onto irradiated planets, as the case may be. "I'll help," he offers — softly, so very softly.

Thorn doesn't seem to be finished with his report — he hadn't even gotten to the part about how to camouflage the drone yet — but he seems to take the hint as Kai cuts him off. "Um." His eyes nearly roll back into his scarred head as he retreats into thought. No matter what, though, there's really only one answer; it's simply a matter of figuring out what he needs to be able to do it. "Yes, sir," Komnenos responds, as if there was another choice. "We'll need t' pull a late one, but I think Poet and I can handle the heavy lifting if we can get some additional manpower t' help with some things."

"It will get done." Roubani's voice punctuates Thorn's final statement. His eyes flicker to Timon. Not that he can give that permission but the nod seems involuntary.

Alyssa looks up. She's not sure what callsign refers to whom yet, but she knows her patients. "With the exception of Corporal Ashe all your personnel are in good working order, including PO Nine. Just remember that anyone who's been doing healing should be on double rations before any hard activity… you don't have as much energy as you think you do yet."

"Tell me what you need, and you've got it," Kai tells Thorn, tapping some ash from his cigarette into an innocuous looking dish nearby him on the counter. "Unless it involves beer, in which case you're out of luck." There's a nod to Timon in acknowledgement, and a small smile of approval for Roubani. And if Thea doesn't have anything to say in contrary, it looks like that's that. "I want an update at the crack of dawn from the three of you." And that portion of the meeting, it seems, is concluded. He turns back to Alyssa, then. "Noted, Lieutenant. And to address your earlier question, we will absolutely need to put down raptors in two locations, to pick up people from both the rendezvous site and the site of the distraction. Good point."

"Unless," Thea says quietly. "The people who are staying take care of the distraction while the rest of the group takes off. I know that's not…optimal, but it might prevent the need for having two Raptor teams come in."

Dutch is raising his hand back up again from where he is standing. Apparently now, the Sergeant has something to add.

Most of the time-consuming work, like repairing the drone and getting power to the com systems has already been done anyway, Thorn realizes as he continues to consider the problem in his mind. However, having something up by tomorrow morning will mean abandoning their plans of possibly trying to construct a second, makeshift drone as a backup — another point he hadn't had time to bring up, but oh well. Besides, that had been the part of the plan he'd doubted the most. Just as well that they won't be spending time and resources on it, in his opinion. "You'll have that, sir, and more," Thorn promises, with another glance at Roubani. Damn right it will. Even if we both are about t' keel over afterwards. The ensign's reaction provokes nothing but approval from Komnenos, though.

Roubani looks down at his watch again, pressing a few buttons on the sides. Setting report alarm for 'Ass Crack of Dawn', maybe. His expression remains largely unreadable through this, even as he comments out of nowhere, "What makes us think a 'distraction' will serve?" He looks back up between the two Captains, raising an eyebrow. "It isn't as though they have limited firepower, and activity at one site will lessen their force at another."

Kai glances to Thea, nods slightly, and jots something else down in his notepad. "We'll discuss the finer points of it after the meeting, I think, along with Ms. Graystone's conerns." Thorn gets a rare smile out of the CAG, and then he turns his attention on Dutch again. "Yes, Sergeant?" He holds up a hand to Roubani, indicating he'll address his concern in a moment.

Daphne gives a slight nod, but she's at least respectful enough to have held back otherwise, just listening respectively and attentatively…

"Ah. It was just more about the distraction sir. If we're waiting." Dutch starts, before he's looking back towards Daphne for a second and then back to the Captain "So can what I got on my mind then."

With a crinkled eyebrow, Thorn taps another message into his PDA as he goes to sit back down next to Timon's bed. He hits the send key right as he's slumping down into the chair. Yay, another nerd moment. After sending, his head comes back up, and he looks around, waiting for another matter of discussion to come up.

Sometime during the festivities, Salazar went to sleepy land in her pillows. She frowns slightly then goes back to listening. Might be the blood loss. Probably.

"Work here?" Timon's still a bit sore; he doesn't much feel like moving. Besides, he does his best thinking with a pillow in easy reach — or at least that's what he'll claim.

"Need the consoles in the bunker, sir," Roubani says to Timon, under his breath. The PDA in his hand of course vibrates softly when Thorn hits send, and he glances at it. After reading the first line he shakes his head at Thorn, typing back.

Somewhere in the middle of the talking, Jules conked out. She's resting her chin in her palm, all supported on her knee. Her machine gun is slung over her other shoulder. Snorting once, she blinks awake and sits up.

"You're in no shape for this kind of work anyway, Ivory," Thorn mutters quietly, agreeing with Roubani. He does, however, favor the younger man with a cocked eyebrow as he types another reply.

"Bunker?" Timon blinks once, twice: he's got no memory of a room that's not this one, which is to say that he doesn't know a thing about the layout of the room. "Oh." And it's with signal reluctance that he moves to swing himself out of bed, pillow still clutched in his hand. "I call a chair," he whispers, managing a tight little smile. But he doesn't go, not yet: the briefing's not done.

Roubani wasn't pushing Timon away so much as explaining why they couldn't work from this room. He gives Komnenos a questioning look at that verbal response to Timon, then looks at Stathis. "You can have the comfy one."

"What about the distraction, Sergeant?" Kai prompts Dutch, eyes flickering over Thorn, Roubani and Timon before returning to the marine.

Dutch nods back towards Kai for a moment "Well sir- Though the Captain said for having those staying take care of it- That might work, but I would rather have military folk on it, even those that have military experience. Sure the distraction team might not make it out to a rendezvous point, but that is a guess with any of the other attack points.." a lick of his teeth "Sir-Distraction should be volunteer based, I believe. Given the higher risk of not making it back home."

Roubani watches Dutch from under his brows as the man talks. His thumb pauses on the keys, then silently finishes the short message back to Thorn.

"You've lost too much blood, and just because you're awake doesn't mean you're one hundred percent. I don't want someone whose hands are still shaky t' be messing with my com gear," Thorn hisses to Ivory quietly. He gives Stathis a measured look, and sighs. "But if there's anything you can help with that doesn't involve frakking with my drone or the bunker systems, we'll come get you. Promise," he concedes. "Fair enough?" Come on, Ivory, don't try and take on too much too soon, he seems to be silently urging the man. Trust me for once, damn you. A look over to Dutch, then, a masked expression on his face. Not a bad idea, but privately, the idea of giving the distraction mission to the resistance seemed best to him.

Thea clears her throat quietly as she looks at her two Raptors. A brow goes up EVER so slightly. She's right there, next to Ivory and Timon. Momma cat's tail is twitching.

Kai works his jaw slightly after Dutch has finished speaking, silent for several moments. His eyes flick from the marine, to Roubani nearby entering something on his pda, when he hears the throat clearing. "Ensign, if you've got something to share, share it. Otherwise, put it back in your frakking pants." Ouch. Double teamed. Then, "I agree, Elder. It'll be discussed with Lieutenant McTiernan."

"Depends on what the distraction is for." Alyssa says. "If the idea is to pull Cylon attention away from the pickup, then it's best accomplished by Resistance members. If the idea is to allow the team to get out without drawing attention to the bunker, any team at the distraction site can't come back here, or the whole thing is pointless."

Roubani says nothing, sliding the PDA back into place and folding his arms.

"Talking — tough. Thinking, standing — okay." As evinced by the fact that Timon can even stand on his own power, which he does right now. His pillow remains lodged in the crook of his arm as he looks expectantly at Legacy. Her call, this one.

At Kai's rebuke to Roubani, Komnenos quickly and quietly slips his own PDA back into his pocket as well, but not before shooting off a final retort to the ensign; always has to have the last word, that Thorn. He, too, looks to Legacy at that moment, silently imploring her to back him up on this.

"Once Kharon's raptors break atmo, doctor, you can bet your ass cylon attention will be focused on the landing site," Karim points out to Alyssa. "The intention's to make sure this bunker stays off the radar, and to keep those who remain on the ground, as safe as possible. I don't expect those heading out to Osprey, to return here." Legacy's left to corral her own kids, it seems, as he isn't commenting on Timon's participation.

Salazar stifles a yawn, and goes back to thumbing through her notes. She glances over as the PDA session comes to an end, then goes back to skimming the notes. After a moment, she looks up again, looks to Karim, and tunes back into the conversation at hand.

Alyssa glances over at the to do around the bed and sighs. She'd just said Timon was cleared… what was up with these people? Still, their captain knew it, at any rate. No point interjecting. "Just trying to guage how many shot up people I'm going to have to deal with when you all are gone, Captain."

Thea points subtly to Timon then to the bed then to Kai. Apparently it's Ghost Rider for 'we'll discuss this AFTER the CAG is finished talking.' There's a somewhat firm set to her lips.

Roubani's expression has gone back to shuttered, eyes watching the Marines as the talk continues about the distraction. He'd already voiced about it, and no more's said for the time being.

"With any luck, doctor, anyone injured during the operation will be brought back aboard our ship, and taken to our own medical bay." That's from Kai, with a glance to Alyssa. Then his attention's on Roubani. "You had something to say about the mission, Ensign?"

His point made, he feels, Thorn falls silent as well. Sure, the Pegasus doc pronounced him fit enough for duty, but Thorn knows him better than Alyssa does, and the Raptor pilot still doesn't look quite right. Then again, he's looked much worse the past few days — but in this case, Thorn trusts his instincts. Timon probably could get out of bed at this point and do something to assist — but even so, Thorn still doesn't feel comfortable with the idea of Ivory dealing with delicate machinery. Not yet, anyway. On the other hand, though, if he's to deliver on his promise to Kai, he'll probably end up calling on the recovering pilot for something, sooner or later.

"No, sir." Roubani's been throat cleared at, texted to quit it, and told to put it away. Not going for a fourth strike is he tonight, not with work to get started on in his own corner.

Timon doesn't get back into bed; instead, he merely sits at the foot of his cot, cradling his left arm gently as he does. Brown eyes look steadily at his nagging ECO's back. His gaze, at least, has lost none of its ability to convey — well, mild irritation, as the case may be.

Kai drops his cigarette to the floor, and begins to ease himself down as well. Gingerly, mind. "If you have concerns about the mission, Ensign, now is the time to voice them. Neither myself nor Captain Legacy are infallible." The cigarette's crushed out as he watches Roubani. "That was an order, by the way."

The Raptor Captain simply narrows her eyes slightly as she looks at Komnenos. Between Thorn and Ivory right now, it seems that someone has her hands full. Slightly thinned lips are all that indicate her mood. Only those who know her well will know that look.

Roubani's eyes are guarded as he looks back at Kai for a second. "It was the question from before, Captain." When Kai had motioned to him to hold on. "I recognise the purpose of a distraction, however. This isn't a situation where we are trying to divert a single patrol in an area, or even two. We are addressing two distinct points of enemy force, or so I understand. Their firepower isn't limited and will no means all be concentrated on the diversion attack. Are we not weakening ourselves by splitting up?"

Thorn takes the hint. His gaze quickly leaves Legacy and focuses back on Kai and the briefing, waiting for the CAG to address Roubani's concerns. He keeps his mouth closed tightly, evidently deciding he's rocked the boat enough for the moment.

Kai tucks his notepad away, listening quietly while Roubani speaks. There's no indication he's irritated about anything; his face is impassive as ever. "As far as I'm aware, the cylons aren't aware of our presence here. The idea of the distraction is to mask our movement from here to the rendezvous point, Ensign. Not to cover any attacks themselves. Unless I'm misunderstanding you?"

Alyssa taps her lips. "They're not all knowing. Their communications, at least, can't be unlimited. If they get an all points alarm here…" she points at a spot on a gurney bedspread, "then their attention here…" she points to another spot… "should be lessened, right? I mean otherwise, no movement would be missed, and we'd all be dead."

Timon's wan smile gives away nothing about his mood. As Roubani speaks and others rebut, his hand toys with a corner of his pillow, pushing it down and up in time with the rhythm of their words.

"No, sir. Likely I misunderstood, myself." Roubani's tone is inscrutable. His glance at Alyssa lingers…no, the Ensign's not as sure as the doctor about that. But he nods to the both of them. "Ready to begin on orders."

Kai nods toward Alyssa at her commentary, apparently at least in tentative agreement with the doctor. "All right, Kharon crew is dismissed then. Ms. Graystone, if you'd still like to chat?"

Daphne picks herself up from where she was slightly leaning against the wall and she walks over towards the Captain, nodding briefly, "Of course, Captain Marek. I know you must be tired, I shall endeavour not to keep you very long." She offers to him gently, with a smooth, almost apologetic smile, though confidence still rides behind it.

Well, that's that. Timon, having sat down, now moves once more to stand. Bracing his right hand against the cot's steel frame, he pushes himself upright to spare his left arm the trouble. Brown eyes look expectantly toward the room's exit, though he still doesn't go anywhere.

As Timon stands, Alyssa walks over next to him with a smile. "You'll be fine, eltee, you're just a bit out of practice. I'll walk beside you the first few steps, just grab me if you start to lose balance."

At the sound of Kai's dismissal, Thorn immediately stands up. He takes only a brief moment to reach out and softly clap Timon on his healthy arm before walking slowly towards the exit, glancing over in Roubani's direction. Time to get to work. There's a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.

Roubani's attention is on his watch rather than anyone in the room once they're dismissed. Alyssa's got Timon and Thorn's walking, so the pilot-turned-snipe heads for the door. Purpose, goal, duty, work.

Thea straightens slightly and just -looks- at Timon, a brow arching upward. And the look he sees on her face, well. The -look- fades into disappointment. It's clear in her eyes. But rather than saying anything, she turns toward the door, moving crisply.

Rather than join the exodus out of the room, for the time being, the CAG elects to hang back. "We're all tired, madam," he explains to Daphne, with a twitch at the corners of his mouth that doesn't quite qualify as a smile. "Go ahead, please."

The arm-tap means pax as far as Ivory is concerned, and so the pilot offers Komnenos a brief nod in return. Then, to Alyssa: "Thanks, Doc." And it's with a fair bit of pride that he extends to his CO a formal salute before he walks after the drone-folk — haltingly, at first, but ever more confident as he finds that he no longer must hobble. Though all things considered, Poet still better save him that comfortable chair.

Daphne breathes out quietly, "Now, I realize that you aren't the be all and end all of authority on your ship, and it seems Captain Legacy and yourself are sharing the heading up duties down here, but I would be curious what you could tell me at all about the ship's mission now that this war has occured. Has been -lost-. Is the plan to fight until we are all destroyed? Is there even a plan? I know that the major goal is to get off the surface now, but I feel like we need to start looking towards the future as well. For everyone. For -humanity-." Daphne states firmly, standing straight again now, her eyes strongly held to Kai's, expression determined and rather die hard protective, it seems.

Alyssa makes some note of what Daphne is saying, but after watching Timon walk out unaided, she walks over to the boxes to being another inventory, figuring out what they could spare.

Kai holds Daphne's gaze, steadily, while the woman speaks to him. It seems to take some effort to do so— not because he's being subversive, but perhaps.. a cultural difference? It's hard to say. "With respect, Ms. Graystone, the holocaust has occurred. The war has just begun." Spoken like the die hard military man he is. Did she expect anything less? "I'm also afraid that my knowledge is limited to what's relevant to the air wing. I'm not tactical staff, madam. I do know that we plan to fight, and to liberate what we can of the colonies. Which is restricted to Scorpia at the moment. If you have any specific questions..?" He's exhausted, and still recovering from his injuries, much as he tries not to let these things show.

Daphne nods quietly, keeping her poker face on and not giving away much about the colonies, but she at least has a bit more information than before. "No, I suppose I'll wait to speak to your commander, hopefully. If you are willing to bring us civilians back that wish to go, that is? I'll be curious to see if the government has turned into a military dictatorship or if our society will remain ruled by the people, but that is not a decision to be made here and now, I suspect. Get some rest… however I can help with the return to the Kharon, just say. I shan't keep you from bed otherwise."

Salazar grunts from her place on the gurney, finish the cigarette, and reaches over to stub it out on the metal tray on wheels next to her. "Lady, we don't have a society. It got nuked to shit. It's pretty much just us." She moves to slide off of the gurney, and makes her way over to hand a scribbled set of notes to Kai. She rips out a page from the novel, with some translated longhand notes. It's the last page. Ohnoes, how does it end?

"The Kharon is a military ship, madam, not a civilian democracy." Karim's tone remains maddeningly even-keeled, blue eyes still trained on Daphne's steadily. "And I'm afraid I don't equate a ragtag band of survivors, with society-" Which is spoken at roughly the same time Salazar decides to speak up. His attention shifts toward the woman as she hands him a slip of paper, and then the paper itself.

Angel sighs quietly as she listens, then shakes her head slightly. "Daphne, they're right," she calls quietly. "Down here is civilian. Up there is not. Up there, they are on a military ship. There is no room for civilian diplomacy."

Daphne frowns a touch more. "We're still a society. Still civilization. Not much, but still the colonies. If we give up on that then they have entirely won the war. Surviving, somehow… keeping what is left of us together, trying to rebuild, that's the only way to recover from this war. Even if that is possible." She sighs, looking over to Angel and shaking her head slowly, "I am not asking that the government take over the ship. Hades, we need to figure out what kind of government we could even have left. I'm just saying that the people need a voice also. There are civilians -here-. There will be more if you free more colonies…"

"Of all the defining characteristics of civilization, trust a politician to insist we need a government. Tell you what, when we can get a farm up and running, you can talk about legal matters and diplomacy. Go for an agricultural rebuilding before you try to establish a ruling class." Salazar comments, her slightly gravelly voice tuning her words to the dry side without even without trying.

"You'll have to speak to the Commander," Kai offers the woman mildly, but firmly. There's evidently more he'd like to say on the subject, but that'd be a quick way into hot water. "And the colonies are gone, madam, so far as we're aware. Scorpia, and possibly Virgon are all that's left. The people need to survive, before they can worry about having a voice. We are faced with annihilation of a species." His eyes flick up to Daphne, then back down to the paper in his hands, which is perused thoughtfully.

"I say we go find the farmer, give him the politician's seat on the evac," Dmitri pipes up from the corner he's slouching in. Of course, he also suggested shooting someone earlier, so his suggestions may be somewhat dubious in value.

For the moment, Angel just lets the others talk, listening as she looks among the faces. When Dmitri speaks, she offers him a wry little smile, tiredly amused. One hand moves to her shoulder, rubbing it gently.

Daphne nods quietly to Kai, "I intend to speak to the commander. We'll leave it there for now… no use debating unnecessarily." She then nods towards Salazar and Dimitri, despite the words, "If we had more farmers, they would be vital. That's why I hope everyone choses to come. To stay here is a dying choice when we could use all the hands and help rebuilding possible, if we all manage to escape." She goes quiet then, apparently that being the last bit she cares to stay about the matter.

Kai nods slightly to Daphne, before folding the slip of paper and tucking it into his notepad, which is in turn slipped back into his pocket. "Miss," he addresses Angelica, beginning to pace away from the diplomat. "If I could ask a favour of you?"

Angel looks up at Kai, head tilting slightly to the side. "Angel, please," she tells him quietly.

Daphne steps back from the conversation now, heading into the outer area again, giving the others their room…

"Angel," the Captain corrects himself, after a brief pause. "You seem like the closest thing these people have to a leader." No hint on his face of how plausible or implausible he might find that. "I'd like you to get me a list of names, by the end of the day tomorrow. Who plans on going, and who plans on staying." His voice seems subdued. Maybe he's just tired.

The woman studies him for a moment, then dips her head. "I know how the land lay with several people," she says quietly. "But nothing for certain. I know of one who wishes to go with you, but I will check. For the most part, I believe people wish to stay and fight." Angel's eyes move over Kai's face, contemplative.

"Can you get me the list in time, or not?" The viper pilot remains inscrutable, for the most part. Well, almost. There's something bothering him about all this, but it doesn't seem directed at Angelica. His eyes remain upon her face, creased with fine crow's feet at the corners.

"I will get you what I can," Angel says quietly, formally. "It may not be a complete list, but I will get you what I am able." Her chin comes up ever so slightly. It's almost like the kitten standing her ground against the German Shepherd.

Kai continues to simply watch Angelica, wordlessly, like he's making some kind of assessment of the girl. He's certainly not being purposely imposing, much less brutish, though there is a quiet intensity to his stare. "If they're not on the list, I can't promise them a seat. It's as simple as that." He works his jaw slightly, and then turns to go after another beat.

Angel is quiet for a moment, then calls after him, "Do you not have time for a proper introduction, Captain?" There's no judgement to her tone, merely a mild curiosity.

Kai pauses when addressed, and turns with a muted jangling of dogtags. It seems for a moment like he might brush her off and go, but he appears to reconsider. Two steps toward the girl, and his hand's offered after a pause. "Karim Marek." He doesn't bother with rank or callsign.

Salazar walks closet to one of the marine's beds. She leans over the Master Sergeant's gurney, and slides a hand into his pants pocket while everyone else is talking. He's asleep, he won't mind. It doesn't take her long to find a couple of cigars. She removes one.

Angel doesn't take the hand, though does dip her head in a gesture of respect. "Angelica Bassonet," she says quietly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Marek. I'm sorry I wasn't able to greet you when you arrived. A few cylon bullets made sure I'd be stuck here for a day or two." Her smile is wry a that. Her accent is Caprican. And to anyone who knows anything about military history and the hierarchy, perhaps even some scandal, the Bassonet name is fairly decently known. "I apologize for not taking your hand." No explanation is given.

Kai doesn't appear to take offense to the lack of a handshake. It's withdrawn a moment later, and shoved into his pocket. "Bassonet?" he repeats, eyes flicking briefly to Salazar, then back to Angelica. The query isn't elaborated upon. "No apology necessary. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bassonet." He, apparently, isn't good with first names. "The cylons have been crashing a few parties, lately," he adds in a deadpan murmur.

Salazar leans over slightly to make sure MSGT is still unconscious. She reaches up, and pokes him in the neck with a finger. Nothing. She shoves the cigar into her mouth, clamps it with her teeth, and shuffles away from the old marine.

Salazar gets about four steps before the old marine grunts out, "That'll cost ya, princess." And then he falls silent again.

"More than a few," Angel says quietly. "I'll have that list for you tomorrow night. Is there anything else you or your people require while you're here? I've asked them to please refrain from entering certain rooms, and they've…" A pause and she looks over to Salazar and the Marine, trying not to smile. "They've complied."

"Nothing else, miss," Karim answers curtly. "Thank you." Still looking faintly ill at ease about something, there's an awkward pause before he takes a step back, in preparation to leave once more. Yeah, that there's Mr. Sociability, all right.

"I'd like to see you catch me," the black haired woman replies to the marine. Dark eyes turn back to the large man, though he's not looking her way, so she continues on her way.

"Don't need to catch ya t' charge ya, Medea." MSGT grumbles out in his half asleep state.

Salazar grunts, and ignores the nickname. Mostly. "Stow that, old man," she mutters, and then the delightful family reunion is finished. Both parties cease addressing each other.

Rather than ask, Angel simply lets Kai go.

Kai turns, and makes his way out after a brief glance aimed toward Salazar and the Master Sergeant.

Dmitri has, it seems, fallen asleep. He's still standing up, mind you, arms folded over his chest, shoulders back against the wall. His head's resting to the wall too, though, his eyes closed and chest rising and falling steadily. He doesn't snore, at least.

Salazar considers her equilibrium, finds it mostly okay. She makes her way toward the hatch, to go find somewhere to smoke in peace. It's only fun taunting the doctor so often. She leaves her stuff on the gurney. It's a bit of a slow going. She wanders along, ever so happy to be on her feet. "I'll be thinking." The cigar is to mask that burning smell.

Angel watches Salazar, smiling a bit, then leans back and closes her eyes.

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