|Ring and Run|
|Summary:||Several DHs gather for a discussion re: Solon II and the Kharon's status.|
|Date:||PH224 (28 Nov 2009)|
|Related Logs:||MxM 42 Logs|
CEC Kharon, Deck 1, XO's Quarters
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #224
OOC Time: Sat Nov 28 20:07:53 2009
A decently-sized room that offers some comfort to an officer who has been able to rise this far in their career. A queen-sized bed has been set into the wall at the rear of the room with the desk set not far in front of it, towards the door. A small, deep red-furnished loveseat and a few chairs of the same color are set to the side with a coffee table for hosting other personnel. To the side of the room, built into a nook, are a trio of gray lockers that provide the XO with some storage for personal items. Attached to the wall near the desk are a pair of monitors which show customizable status reports from almost any department on the ship. There is a cramped shower closet also built into a section of the wall to afford the Kharon's Executive Officer with some small luxury.
Unfortunately, the Ward Room has a rather glaring hole in it rendering the locale completely inoperable. As Praxis ponders the Heavy Raider plowing into it, he's busy setting up his own quarters for a meeting of the department heads. He's shifted a table to the emptiest part of the room, setting up enough chairs for everyone while having procured glasses of water for everyone - that's right … water, not coffee - and a mysterious folder with the Colonial seal on them in front of each chair. On the hatchway is a piece of octagonal paper that reads, 'DH's ENTER AT WILL'. Once Demitros has everything sufficiently set up, he pulls out a chair at the head of the table and settles into it, waiting for his colleagues to arrive.
The CAG, dressed in his blues and with his right arm in a stylish sling, shows up first. Punctual bastard. He's carrying a file folder under his left arm, and briefly holds the hatch open with his boot for whoever's behind him. "Captain," is intoned blandly, complete with brief salute, before he makes his way to a chair at the other end of the table. The glass of water is eyed.
The S2 isn't far behind the CAG. She's usually walking in just under the wire. Must have run into the Captain somewhere in the ship and been reminded early. "Appreciated, sir." The notice to Karim is dry. Classy booted door holding. "Captain," she greets, before moving to take a seat. The higher ranking officer already took care of the salute, so she doesn't waste the time. She also carries a folder under her arm. She makes her way to find a seat at the table. It's not hard, and she's combat trained. Witness the smoothness.
Sen has learned long ago to supply her own coffee if she wants to drink it, so when she comes through the hatch a mug is hitched over her knuckles. She's taken the time to peel out of her coveralls and pour into her duty Blues, but that's as far as she got in any sort of preparation. A screwdriver is still thrust into her messy bun and her hands and cheek are still smeared with an unknown greasy substance. "Sir. Marek. Ensign." She greets in turn.
Praxis tracks each of them as they enter, a brow raising slightly before he lifts up out of his chair in politeness and returns the salute out of formality. It's evident in his features and mannerisms that the XO wants to get right down to business. "Help yourselves to a seat," he offers before setting back down into his own, teeth running over his bottom lip while Demitros observes everyone settle in. His hands nonchalantly meet on the table and fold together, lungs drawing in a breath before he begins. "As you should have received in the memo sent out by Command, this is an emergency war meeting to discuss strategy for the suspected Cylon blockade of the Solon system, particularly the second planet." There's a brief pause while he lets that all settle in. "We do not yet currently know if the Cylons left when we did, however it is most probable that they have still maintained a presence in the sector. Again, as the memo has outlined - we cannot afford any more direct encounters especially with a Cylon baseship. The time has come to think creatively and outside of the box with how we are to deal with this threat." The Captain gestures to the CAG. "Captain Marek, you are up first. Speak your ideas and speculations, and we shall discuss." Provided he has any!
Unknown greasy substance. Indistinguishable from hangar deck coffee. Marek continues to eye the glass of water for a few seconds before pulling out his chair and settling in slowly, clearly favouring his left leg. The folder's slid onto the table, and he scratches at the scar above his lip with a thumbnail while easing back into his chair. More than a few scrapes and bruises are visible on his person, though mostly hidden by the high-collared uniform. After Praxis has said his piece and handed the floor over to him, the pilot clears his throat and turns to address the others. His folder remains closed. "To be frank, Captain, I think we have pretty much two choices available to us at the moment, and one of them's hardly what I'd call an option." He ticks off on his fingers, "Suicide or subterfuge." He pronounces that wrong, but you get the idea. "We have enough ordnance to take out a basestar with brute force, but I don't believe we'd survive the engagement. Or, we take Lieutenant Roubani's idea with the drones a step or two further, and see what we can pull out of our asses with regards to diversionary tactics." His eyes remain on Demitros'. "It's still a risky move, but I don't think we have the option of abandoning that shithole. We need the refinery. And we sure as frak can't let the cylons take it."
Sal takes a seat, flips open her folder, and slides a pen out of her pocket. Click. She's also wearing blues, seeming much more comfortable in them than she was at the first DH meeting she attended. Probably just better at faking it. She glances over at Marek. "If we can't take it back, we should blow it. At some point in the refining process, tylium is unstable." Don't ask her which part — that's why Sen's here! "It's a little old school playground, but if we can strike swiftly, we'd have a shot at taking out some of them." Yes, it's the 'If I can't have it no one can.' approach to warfare.
Sen drops into a seat as if this is the first chance she's had to sit down all day, her pleasant features drooping in what is clearly exhaustion. As Marek is given the floor, Sen drowns herself in a gulp of coffee. Nope. No comment on tactics, that's not her bag baby.
"Needless to say, the subterfuge option is the likely choice, here," Demitros says calmly, eyes continually scanning between each of the personnel sitting at the table. "I'm certain there are many ways to draw a basestar from its position, the question is how we can do it safely." Praxis briefly pauses so he can outline another thing. "I have faith in Lieutenant Roubani's idea, Captain…however, I do not want that to be the only thing we have to hinge upon. Contingency plans?" Jade eyes swing to Salazar. "Yes, Ensign, a smart move - but as a very last resort. In fact, perhaps we should ask Captain Eos just how much fuel we expended during our several days of jumping every forty-two minutes." There's an expectant brow-raise at the ChEng.
"I agree, Captain," the CAG answers easily. Salazar's given a brief glance at her suggestion, and a nod as well before his eyes rove back to the XO. "Contingencies? I don't have any contingencies for you that won't involve a loss of crew. We're also on a tight schedule here; we don't have weeks to plan out a complicated offensive." He toys with his pen absently, flipping it end over end a couple of times. "We could try to get a nuke inside the baseship itself. It's risky as frak, but I think Black Cat could do it."
Salazar's eyes flick to the CAG as he suggests dropping a nuke in a basestar. She doesn't say anything about it. She's no pilot, so any opinion on the subject stays in the vault. She glances over to Sen to hear the verdict on fuel expenditures.
Oh wait, someone's talking to her. Sen snaps out of it, blinking once or twice while she tries to pull up the figure. "Fifty-two percent. We had just refueled after we got back from Ragnar. There was a slow leak in one of the lines caused by some damage we took, so that was another eight percent. So figure thirty percent remaining, with ten percent emergency stores. I understand the path we took away from the systems wasn't direct, so we should have enough to get us back to the moon. If we go soon."
Praxis gestures a hand towards Sen when she outlines the expenditure of fuel. "And thus with forty percent of our reserves remaining, it is clear that retaking Solon and the Keros facility is even more imperative." There's a slight grinding of his teeth when Demitros considers the CAG. "You're right, we don't have the time. If we have nothing alternative left to us, and inaction is not an option, I'm expecting you to make this work, Captain Marek." Obviously despite the risks. Praxis then regards the S2 with a nod. "You will of course consider the probability of enemy ground forces. You have the advantage of knowing the layout of the Keros facility and the outlying area." And then, finally the ChEng. "What have you left to accomplish in terms of damage control, Captain?"
There's a brief pause before he then opens the floor for, "Ideas for diversionary tactics."
Kai didn't so much as glance at Salazar, when he offered up that 'idea'. If he thinks it's much of one, at all. Chances are he tossed it out there as the last ditch possibility that it is. As Praxis addresses the others and then opens up discussion on tactics, he clears his throat lightly and very nearly interrupts with, "If I may speak freely, Captain." Uh oh.
Salazar holds on to whatever it was she was thinking about saying, eyes switching to Marek again. Should be good. Her expression betrays nothing. She does, however, click her pen once.
"She can't take much more of this, Captain." Sen's giving her all she's got. That said, and as Kai asks to speak freely, the remainder of her report can wait for the time being.
Praxis props his elbow up on his table and rubs slightly at his forehead, before his other hand gestures for Kai to speak his mind. Yeah, uh oh. The XO eventually resumes the position of hands folded on his desk when he's done ironing out the exaperation from his face.
Kai maintains eye contact with Praxis until he's given the go ahead to speak. "Frankly, Captain, Cortez's mission prerogatives are horseshit. And you can let him know I said that." Yes, he just said horseshit in a departmental meeting. "The Colonel is asking us not to engage the enemy in what may be the most decisive battle to date. Quite possibly a turning point, however small, in this war." He tosses his pen atop the folder in front of him, and leans back again in his chair. "We can't afford not to fight. I recommend we send in a couple of advance raptors. Get in, see what the situation is, get out. If they've retaken the site, and still have a baseship in orbit, I can get enough vipers up in the air to cover a ground assault, and I think we can take out the refinery with acceptable losses. With no baseship, our odds of kicking those bastards out is considerably better, so I recommend we throw everything we've got at them in that case, if it means strapping marines to raptors with grenade launchers. That's my official position on this, Captain. If Cortez doesn't like it, I'll be happy to hand in my resignation as commander of the air group."
"We practiced hot drops in Solon. If we make it in for a combat drop, I'd suggest a two point drop and close, converging on the LZ that's already been set up for ships." Salazar is quiet for a beat. "It's going to be messy, and I'll need to bounce the recruits directly into combat. An air strike first would be ideal, taking out any non essential facilities to shrink the size of the area we need to clear." There's a pretty hefty number of marines down in medical, meaning any ground op is going to be under staffed, just like the air ops.
"That's a big if, entirely dependent on the air forces and our success penetrating. If they have a basestar, putting troops on the ground is suicidal, like hearing abuelita coming and shoving your hand to the bottom of the cookie jar anyway." Yes, she adds a little Thracian charm to her example. "Our plans will have to ride the recon data from the raptors that will presumably be going in ahead of us. The CMC will be there to kick ass and take toaster parts as needed. Special requests should be filed at least forty five minutes in advance." Thighs can be harder to acquire. But, as denizens of the Kharon know, Head is cheap. "We charge extra for hood ornament duty."
Praxis looks down at his folder, opens it, and then takes a pen to the page. 'Speak with Cortez re: horseshit.' There's a long stare at Kai as he speaks frankly as he always does, but then again the CAG is never afraid to be frank at all. "Understood. I assure you that your opnion will be made clear to the commanding officer." Implied by the tones in that statement, it's almost an assurance that Praxis is going to argue the point convincingly enough for things to tip in the CAG's favor. The ground tactics are then taken in and written down furiously in order to keep up with the S2's line of speech. "Assume Air-Wing success, Ensign…because in the case of failure, it's likely going to be catastrophic." Especially if they're doing a full engagement.
"Whatever course of action Command decides to take, the fighting needs to be as far away from the Kharon as possible. If we continue to take direct hits, we'll be able to make swiss cheese jealous." Sen sits forward a bit, "Without a dry dock and proper supplies, I'm literally holding this ship together with ducttape and prayer. I don't beleive we'll be able to repair the damage to Black berthings or the ward room. We're going to just have to keep those sections sealed off and left for dead. Soon I'm going to be melting down people's dog tags for nuts and bolts."
Kai glances over as the S2 and the ChEng speak, focusing on each for as long as they take to give their positions on the matter. Then back to Praxis with, "I don't think we'll have time, let alone the ability, to drop marines on the ground. What I'm suggesting is a slash and dash." A tactical maneuver known to pilots, so Praxis may or may not be familiar. "We equip every raptor with missile packs, and we target the tylium staging areas. We pull back the vipers as soon as the raptors are within range, and we jump Kharon out, and rendezvous with the raptors at backup coordinates. We'll have a very small window of opportunity."
"Though I usually do my best to avoid assumption, sir, I'll endeavor to change my MO in this case, given the outstanding record of our brothers in the sky in past collaborations." Salazar probably means that in the best possible way. There's a slight eyeshift to Sen. Sal says nothing, but it's no secret to the ChEng how she feels about the rust bucket's structural integrity. "Sounds like we either nuke it and run, or we hang our ass out the window and moon the other team." Also known as balls to the wall. She takes the color down a notch.
"Agreed. The Kharon can not afford any more encounters." Demitros says, a sunken gaze given at the table when the condition of the escort carrier comes into question. "Nuke it and run," he repeats with a deep sort of pondering, rubbing at his jaw. "Well, if it's the case that we don't have time for anything else, I'm not sure we have much of a choice in the matter."
"Unless, of course, the gods are smiling on us, and the toasters decided to bug out," Marek adds quietly. His tone of voice implies he doesn't find that option too likely.
"On that note, I think we're safe again for travel. Nothing too important should fall off during another jump." Maybe Sen's serious about that, or maybe that last little bit was just for the benefit of the new S2.
"Mm." Just a small sound is Salazar's comment to Sen's note, or maybe it was to Marek's.
"All right, then," Praxis says, closing his folder and resting his elbows on the table. "A prospective plan has been outlined and recorded. I will take this proposition and the information accompanying it to Cortez right away." Again his teeth grind together in deep thought before he mentions, "If there is nothing else pertaining to the impending Solon engagement or anything tertiary, then this meeting is adjourned." He gives them all a last chance to speak before they are ushered out of his room.
Kai glances at his glass of water briefly, then back to Praxis. "Nothing else relating to the offensive, Captain. I'll meet with you in the morning to go over a few particulars, and I'd like to oversee the mission from CIC." Since, in the state he's in, flying isn't going to be an option.
Salazar shakes her head in the negative, then reaches for the water set before her place to drain half of it before she puts it back. Thirsty marine. Yes, she does that without slurping. Classy. "That's all I have. We'll be ready." CMC, supreme confidence.
Sen gives a shake of her head, "I'll make sure the ship wide diagnostic reports are on your desk in an hour, sir, but I've hit all the highlights." Sen swivels her legs to the side, then is back on her feet when the meeting is adjourned.
"Good," Praxis says, gathering up all of his papers and shoving them underneath his arm. He appears satisfied with everyone at this point in time. "Dismissed. I trust you'll show yourselves out." With a job to do himself, Captain Demitros rises and begins heading towards the hatchway, inevitably to speak with the commander.
Kai collects his folder, leaves the glass of water behind, and sketches a brief salute to Praxis before heading for the hatch.