Kharon DH Meeting
Kharon DH Meeting
Summary: Sheridan calls for a meeting of the minds of his Department Heads.
Date: PHD039 (27 May 2009)
Related Logs: None
Players:
Sen..Cortez..Vendas..Ajax..McTiernan..Fenix..Sheridan..

Sen arrives in a timely manner, never one to be late nor too terribly early either. She's dressed in her Blues, with a file tucked under her arm, ready for business. She's even taken time with her hair, plaiting it in a nice neat orderly fashion to match the nice neat smile on her lips. The ChEng selects a seat but doesn't sit yet, merely slipping her file onto the table.

Cortez is already seated in the ward room as most others arrive, the big man tucked into a set of blues that probably took two Ensigns' uniforms to make. He's got a cup of coffee in front of him, which he's in the process of loading sugar and whitener into.

Vendas moves into the room, ahem, just in time it would seem. She's got a metal clipboard in her hand, a yellow legal pad attached with the whole thing tucked into her right arm. A blue Bic pen is stuck behind an ear as she moves for the table without a word.

Ajax is coming in behind the Chief Engineer, The Book, and a pad of paper in one hand and adjusting his eyepatch with the other. Book sat down at the table before there's a smile over to the XO and then the incoming Major. "Hello everyone." voices the Padre as he is pulling his chair out and moving to sit down. A pause and then he rises slightly to pull out a pen and set it out next to his things.

McTiernan enters and moves smartly to the table, a file in her own hand, as well as an leather bound ledge, a chewed up pencil poking out of the spine. A general greeting of "Sirs" is offered around respectfully before she finds a chair for herself though she doesn't sit, either.

Sheridan arrives on time, because he called the meeting so whenever he shows up, is when it starts. He pauses in the hatchway, stopped by an ensign handing him a piece of folded hexagonal paper. Before he greets anyone, he takes a moment to read the note and nod along with what it apparently says. No thank you is offered to the poor Ensign just doing her job, he just merely moves further into the room with his usual stoic expression.

Fenix slips in as any good deck rat would — on the feet of few larger officers, slipping quickly through the door and then deeper into the room. The woman's dressed in her fatigues — a sharp contrast to the various blues wandering about — but she has managed to put her hair into some semblance of order. Only a few curls pulling free to fall across her forehead. Eyes sweeping the crowd once, and then drawn somewhere less conspicuous as she takes her seat at the table.

Cortez is out of his chair with a thump, and a tug of his uniform's jacket in a sharp downward fashion. "Commander on Deck!" is barked. Whoever's standing or sitting next to him, might just have a ringing ear right about now.

Sen snaps herself quickly to attention, her hand coming up to give the Commander a formal salute.

With the call to deck, Vendas is up and standing at attention. The pen isn't touched, the woman just standing tall and ignoring everything else. There's a bit of a wince from Cortez but she just blinks it away.

McTiernan sets her book and file down before she snaps too smartly, just another reason why she didn't bother with sitting before the Old Man arrived. Bright blues eye stare forward, boring into the bulkhead, head up.

You can take the Padre out of the Corps. But not the Corps out of the Chaplain or see it seems, as it takes no time before he is back up once the call comes and sharply at attention by the seat he just vacated. Ajax winces his one eye at the sound ringing in his ear, but its only a second and back to a neutral face. Textbook there.

Fenix is on her feet with everyone else, mirroring a sharp salute as eyes turn toward the Commander.

Sheridan stops at the head of the table, drawing himself rigid to return the salutes of those assembled with stiff formality. "At ease. Ladies and gentlemen, please take a seat and let's get down to brass tacks. Major Pike from medical is in surgery and will be unable to attend. Major Harmon is likewise indisposed and has sent Petty Officer Fenix in his stead. Are there any questions before we begin my agenda?" He asks, sinking into a chair that looks a little big plushier then the rest. It's good to be the Commander. A hand smoothes down the front of his uniform before he reaches for a glass of water. Similar glasses have been set out for each in attendance. Sorry, no tea and cookies.

The CAG settles back into her chair, a hand reaching for the pen behind her ear. She pops the cap and straightens the notepad in front of her. Eyes briefly flicker towards Fenix and a few others before settling back on Sheridan.

McTiernan gives a simple nod in answer to the greeting before she pulls out a chair and takes a seat. The ledge is opened, the pencil withdrawn before the file is also opened as she turns her attention to the Commander.

Cortez drops back into his chair once the Commander gives the 'at ease'. Poor chair. His coffee's given a stir, and then set aside while he flips his notepad open and clicks his pen on. Beware the XO's clicky pen.

Sen tugs her chair out, sitting down in it fluidly. Her file is flipped open, a notepad slipped to the side and a pen unclipped from the inside. It's clicked open, and she glances around expectantly, on the off chance someone has something to bring to the table before the Commander speaks.

Ajax flips an eye back towards Sheridan, and back down he moves, sitting back down as he clicks his pe to life, scratching lightly on the pad of paper before him, so that said pen can write. A glance is passed down to the CAG then over to the Commander again. No questions here.

Fenix settles back into her chair in turn, sitting a bit stiffly as she continues to half-glance around the table. Which of the following doesn't belong? Hm.

"I'm going to take that as a no. Alright, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss where we are and where we're going." Sheridan nudges his glass of water aside, making room for a file that he's now getting handed by the Ensign who is his little shadow. "My concerns are supplies. How long can we keep skirting around the real problem? Our ship and our crew may be safe for the time being, but eventually things are going to run out. Tylium. Medicine. Food. What I'm looking for are potential answers. What I'm looking for is input from my biggest and brightest."

The CAG is a warfighter. She does stuff like shove Vipers around. Ensigns and Jigs, too. A couple topics are jotted down on her notepad but she looks towards Fenix and Sen. She'll pipe up when she gets tapped.

Sen bounces her pen on the table for a moment, looking over her giant list of problems that she has bulleted out on her paper. Problems with no immediate solutions. "My concern is Tylium. We can go out and find the rest of our necessities, as long as we can keep flying and that takes fuel. But even if we find a rich source of raw Tylium, we have no way to refine it ourselves."

Ajax idly rubs under his eye for a momnt before he is setting the pen to scratch on the notepad. "There is always further rationing.." speaks up the Priest "Also, what meagre bits I have in my stores can be tapped, byt that means dry flat bread and watered down wine for libation service. I don't think that will help much.." He's a Chaplain though so take what he says with grains of salt. "Maybe there is a refining depot or ship out there we have yet to come upon?" Ever hopeful is the padre. "Scavenging might be our best bet on all fronts.."

Cortez glances aside to the Commander, then over to the ChEng, seemingly deciding to field this one for the old man. "Tylium's our top concern. Bar none. But the preacher's right. If we want tylium, we're going to need to recon ourselves a refinery, which means heading back to the colonies. There are a few scattered around the Amphitris and Vega sectors, if I remember my starcharts right. But either way, the cylons are going to be gunning for those, too. We are going to take losses." Slurp goes his coffee.

McTiernan taps the end of her chewed up pencil on her ledge before she asks, "Have we been going out of our way to skirt traffic lanes? We might need to look into the risk to gain options of sending recon units colony side to see what we can manage to pack away as well." Her words pretty much echoing Cortez's own.

The CAG clears her throat. She looks to Sen and then Sheridan. Cortez got her brain jogging. "Sir, the Cylons need Tylium, too. Same as we do. That attack of theirs would require large quantities of fuel for their fighters alone. Strategic prudence says they left the colonial tylium stores out of their strike zones. Radiation neutralizes it so very likely they would have done something about it to protect it - certainly not nuke the surrounding areas. Given the sheer number of storage and refinery stations, its unlikely they can defend every one of them with massive forces."

Sheridan doesn't seem to be taking many notes. He has people that take notes for him. He merely keeps a steely gaze fixed on whom ever is speaking at the time, he and Cortez working in tandem. "Right now, we're skirting well out of colony space and we're still running acrossed Cylon hostiles. The further we go out, the more and more we are risking not being able to get back." His chair swivels and his attention goes to Vendas and Fenix. "And if we angle the ship back towards the colonies, can we get a team together to scout without leaving us in a lurch by not having enough ships left to defend the Kharon?"

Cortez sets his coffee cup down, and dabs his beard with a square of handkerchief from his pocket before scratching something down on his pad of paper. Yep, the notetaker would be him. Coffee and facial hair do not mix. A little more quietly to the ChEng, so he doesn't interrupt the Commander's words with CAG and Chief, "What are our tylium reserves at, and how many jumps do we have left?"

Vendas dips her head. "Aye, sir. We can flush Raptors to recon whatever we need. They'll go out alone, which is what they do best. No need to recon in force. When we find a target, then would probably be the best time to talk about tactics. But for now I think we'd be safest doing that. Fenix can probably tell you better how many birds we have available for that kind of operation." To the question of tylium operations, she sighs and settles back. That's a question for the engineers and deck ops people.

Ajax takes a sip of water as he looks over from Cortez to the ChEng. He really has nothing more he can add to it beyond his imput which he has already said. If he could pray for Tylium to magically appear right now, he would. So for now he listens in on what will be needed to be done.

Sen shuffles a few pages, coming up with a pretty shiny report that was prepared just for this meeting. No doubt the ChEng has more than a few of them in her file. She gives it a glance and slides it towards Cortez, keeping her voice low. "We were full when we left for our tour, which should have lasted us six months under normal operations. With all the unexpected jumps, airwing encounters… we have probably a month the way we're currently going. We were able to get some additional stores from the Charybdis which might buy us maybe three or four more days ontop of that. A week if we stretch it on fumes."

"The raids are hitting us hard, sir," Fenix responds, shifting slightly in her seat. "We've finally got the VIIs in the air, but as many are being grounded everytime we get a scrap. We've got three of our Vipers down until further notice, and that's not counting th' ones who need serious work. We have eight raptors functional, and three down. I'm not gonna say we can /afford/ sending anything… but we'd survive it."

Cortez drops his attention to the report slid over, coffee set aside as he reaches for it. There's a nod as the ChEng explains, and he flips it open to peruse quietly.

McTiernan remains silent for the time being though she's taking notes as she goes, noting the issues being risen and where they stand as a whole. Her pencil scratches softly over the pages as she writes.

Sheridan gives a pinched smile at the report from Fenix. "Surviving is what we do best now. Alright. Get me a team together. Brief them to expect the worst. I want them ready to go within the week. Lieutenant McTiernan, I want a marine in each Raptor in the event that which ever planet we choose to inspect is actually approachable. Brother Crydel, I suggest you start praying. Now. Which planet?"

McTiernan nods, "Aye, sir' she replies as she turns a page and begins a new section of notes. She pauses to flicks her gaze the CAG's way but other wise remains silent as her attention turns once more to the Commander.

The CAG taps her notepad. "We high-altitude reconned everything except Virgon and Scorpia. Nuclear strikes on every one we saw. I think you read the report my pilots wrote-up." She's quiet, not offering anymore opinion on that.

"Aye sir." comes the reply from the Padre. If we're getting there on a wing and a prayer then Ajax might as well get busy on the prayer part.

Cortez slides out a few papers from his own stack, and passes them to Sheridan, McTiernan and the CAG. "We've got some intel on pre-war colonial assets on the two remaining colonies." There's a sheet for Virgon, and a sheet for Scorpia. "My guess is, Virgon's our better bet. To start, anyway." He reaches over to the CAG's copy, and circles a few things with his pen. "There are bases here, here and here." He starts marking off things like refineries and fabrication plants. "Less gain than Scorpia, but probably less pain."

Sen has other issues to bring up to Command, but she'll put them on the back burner for now. It's nothing that can't be handled by a nice neat report. She leans forward, trying to get a peek at what Cortez is handing out. Virgon. Interesting.

"Worth a shot anyway." replies the Priest and he is writing down a few things on his paper. if anything Ajax knows he'll have to work on keeping morale up in the Chapel, for as soon the news comes out, there might be some rather unhappy sailors and marines in his halls. If anything he will be ready for it.

Vendas takes the paper and looks it over. She mentally ticks off what she knows is where. There's some surprises, too. "We also haven't detected any major wreckages outside the Picon Yards that Captain Legacy photographed. The Scorpian Yards will probably have the same level of destruction. But there's no major sign of a fleet engagement yet. Meaningless on the small scale, but it begs the question of what happened to the fleet. It didn't vaporize." She holds the paper so Sen can take a look at it. "I'm not particularly sold on either colony. We can do either one, just say the word, sirs."

Sheridan takes the piece of paper handed to him by the CO, eyes quickly scanning it. He doesn't seem to have a strong opinion one way or the other. Either that or he's just making an executive decision. "Virgon it is." He tosses the hexagonal paper back to the table, and it swirls for a moment before settling. "Alright, any other questions? If not, next topic. Chaplain, how's my morale?" And by 'my' he likely means the Kharon. When you're Papa Big Britches, you can be possessive.

McTiernan accepts the paper and takes more then a few moments to study what's written upon it, comparing what she mentally knows. Papa Big Britches gets a slight nod from McTiernan as she makes a note to seek out those Marine from that colony prior to making assignments. "Might I suggest we" and by we she means /someone/, "sit down with some folks from Virgon prior to launch to get a locals lay of the land, sir? That might prove helpful." Then she's quiet.

Cortez turns to glance at the marine CO when she speaks, and snaps his fingers in a gesture that ends with him pointing at her. "Good call." He starts writing, talking it out as he goes. Weirdo.

Ajax coughs as he reaches for The Book for a moment, just to pull it closer before he is looking back to Sheridan. A reach of the water and then he is speaking up. "Well sir." a sip "From what I can tell morale a little shakey at the moment due to the action from the other night.." a sip and he is looking right back to Sheridan dead in the eye. He can do that because he only has one. "But, they are coming together which is good, the fact we lost no one has helped. We could be better though, Sir."

Sen becomes a little grim faced at the mention of the 'action' a few days ago. Her handy helper Ensign Roubani was injured in that fray. Count her on the shakey list.

Sheridan gives a slow nod at the comments from Ajax. "Then lets give them a boost, shall we? By my count, Colonial day falls next week. Before our troops go off on this little recon mission, I say we take a moment and observe tradition. Get the crew together. Make some punch. Put aside uniforms and rank for one evening, and let the crew gather in the Cargo Bay for an old fashioned party. We'll have to rearrange the living arrangment for the civvies for one evening, but I'm sure they won't mind if we give them an invitation as well. Thoughts?" But the raise of his eyebrow indicates people better not rain on his parade here.

Ajax rubs his chin for a moment before he is nodding again. "Would work great, given the fact we've been in mourning since H-day, if anything it will give the crew a bit of life, and keep them on a high before we go into the shit as it were." a pause "Pardon the language sir. Anyway I'll bring them in well. maybe give them something more to fight for than besides surviving. Our backs are still on the wall, we need to ease up a little, or we'll have crewmembers cracking left and right." a lick of his lips. "I am for it."

Vendas scribbles something on her notepad, nodding. "I certainly like the idea. The pilots could use any sort of way to blow off steam that doesn't involve killing each other. We're stretched pretty thin on stress levels due to the constant rotation. The lack of replacements incoming from the fleet is docking the morale a bit, too. Luckily our losses have been light so far." She leans back in the chair and looks to the Commander. "I'll have my people there. We could use it, sir."

McTiernan is silent for a long moment. That chewed up pencil begins to move again in the ledger before she sets it down to speak. "I'll post a duty rotation for the Marines that will allow everyone to attend at least a portion of the celebration, sir." It's neither a yay nor a nay to the idea - just a verbal note that she's make sure her people are there as well - if only in shifts.

Cortez lifts his coffee cup in an apparent toast to that idea. Which ends up being a one person toast, since nobody else has coffee cups. "Lieutenant, you want to be our standard bearer on this?" He darts a look toward the chaplain to indicate which Lieutenant he's referring to.

Ajax looks back towards the XO and there is a slight smile that raises. "Aye sir. I can do it. Open her up right and let the party commence. I figure the less they think on Chapel and more on having a good time the better for Colonial day."

Sheridan gives another quick concise nod which means a ruling has been made. "Good." He taps a finger on the top of Cortez's paper, as if to make sure the XO writes that down as well. "Now. How are my pilots?" Meaning the recent casualties over in sickbay.

Vendas looks back to the Commander, lifting her eyes. "Captain Marek and Lieutenant Black were both released last night under their own power. I'm still coordinating a full debrief from him on the incident." She sighs, letting the breath out slowly. "Ensign Nadiv Roubani has a shattered right arm, numerous punctures and wounds and I think he broke a few ribs. I believe he also has a concussion. Major Pike would have the finer details. He will likely be out of action for more than a few weeks, sir. It could be months before he shoves a Viper around again."

Sheridan flips his folder back shut, giving a glance to his Ensign who is starting to look impatient, then back to Vendas. "Make sure he has everything he needs to make a speedy recovery." One less pilot is one less pilot. "Alright. Any other questions or concerns this evening?"

The ChEng takes this opportunity to pass over a list of items that need addressing, none of which will likely hit the floor tonight, now that they have their hands full with the Virgon recon. "Just some questions surrounding the virus and the pieces of Raiders we have stacking up. We're going to try to figure out how they exploited our weaknesses, and how we can turn this knowledge around on them."

Cortez glances to the ChEng, then his notepad, jotting a few things down as she speaks. He's otherwise quiet.

Vendas keeps quiet for the moment, looking back to Sen. That pen scribbles a few more notes before the CAG settles back in her chair.

Ajax looks up and over towards the Chief Engineer as he finishes writing down a few more items on his pad of paper before clicking his pen off. A nod is given all the same, but the Chaplain doesn't have anymore to add.

Sheridan takes the paper from Sen, giving it a quick peruse. "Put you best minds on it, Captain." And it's with that, he seems finished with this meeting of the minds. He pushes to his feet.

Vendas moves to her feet as the CO gets up to leave. She comes to attention and faces the wall blankly while he moves out. The CAG waits until he's gone before gathering her things for an exit.

As the Commander rises, So does Ajax, things left before hom as he moves to snap to attention, after all the Commander is up. once though the commander leaves the room, he will be following the others out. He has ceremonies to make ready.

Cortez also snaps to his feet as the Commander starts to take his leave, mouth a grim line of.. grimness. Once the man's gone, he actually sits back down to shuffle through his papers, and make a few more notes.

Sen slips out of her chair, straightening like Vendas. Picture perfect posture for the win. As the Commander vacates, she then goes about tidying her papers and preparing to leave with the others, back to her Batcave. Er. Engineering.

Sheridan strolls out of the room, his Aide on his heels. He's giving her a long list of things that she is committing to memory as they walk. The Commander's voice can be heard long after he vacates, no doubt crossing the hall for the CIC.

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