AWD #274: A Question of Supply
A Question of Supply
Summary: Amos and Kostas discuss supplies, and Captain Gray.
Date: 07/Oct/2013
Related Logs: What Did He Say?
Amos Kostas 
Operations Offices - Crandall
Home to the 33rd Tactical Fighter Wing and 379th Air Expeditionary Wing, the operations facility is sprawling on the base, the connected builds slammed up against the rear of the hangars and apron. With a plain interior, white walls are scuffed here and there from worn passage with running pilots or errant clerks with carts. The carpet threadbare and in desperate need of replacing. The hallways are utilitarian with doors going up and down both sides and simple plastic placards pointing the way to room numbers or specific areas or units. Old squadron plaques line the walls, each etched with names and years. The facility is minimalistic and not meant for comfort save for the fake potted plants to try to soften the interior and expense is definitely cut where it is not needed. There is a main room to the buildings, serving as something as a CIC and called 'Operations Control', with all the central scheduling, flights incoming and staff that were once here still etched on the dry erase, filing cabinets lining one wall.
AWD #274

With last night's operation complete, Amos has had a few hours sleep and a visit from a corpsman to check on his wound, but now he's back at work. His movements are a little stiff at times, but not so much as to actually cause issue. For now though he's stood looking at maps, something he seems to have been doing a lot of of late, while he makes a few annotations on a separate piece of paper. He's not getting so involved that he isn't glancing up as others come and go, but then he's sent word for Ensign Kostas to stop by when she has the chance, so perhaps that not too surprising.

Kostas tromps up into the office, looking none the worse for wear. Unscathed by the last adventure, she even seems to have caught some sleep and a fresh buzzcut, either here or probably up on Orion. She doesn't have a clipboard even, and seems quite happy about this, her steps lighter without it. Her rifle's on her shoulder, and she loosens the straps to her helmet once she's under cover of the building, easing it off. Amos at work and a summons brings a grin to her lips, and after a moment peering around she heads his direction. "Sir," she greets. "Good ta see ya back down here."

Amos glances up as he hears another new arrival and this time it's the marine he's been waiting for. Shifting his notes to one side he acknowledges her arrival with a short nod and an "Ensign", before smiling slightly at her comments. "I escaped in all the hustle to get Lieutenant Vashti to surgery, hitched a lift on the first raptor heading back down here." A pause as he moves to take a drink of what is most likely coffee from the tin mug on his desk and he cuts to the think of things. "I won't keep you long, and technically this is Captain Siska's responsibility not mine, but he's busy it would seem." Because you know, he isn't or something. "You were until recently with Colonel Spree, what's her supply situation? Our own won't last forever, even with the munitions we took here. She's doing a very good show of having plenty where bullets and guns are concerned, but obviously we don't want to go asking if she's actually on her last crates. Any thoughts?"

Kostas rubs her chin thoughtfully. "Gods honest truth, Sir…hell if I know. We always had plenty of ammo for what we needed but…" Her lips purse slightly. "Th' base folks were on half rations or less. Th' other platoon officer an' me kept ours to half—only because we couldn't afford ta go lower than that in the field, yeah? And when we was out, we let our platoon do some…supplementing. Since we in some urban areas." Good old fashioned looting/dumpster diving. "She been holdin' out for almost a year, Sir. There's so few of us, an' we had the installations, so I reckon we probably not in bad shape but how much of a stock she got I dunno." She clears her throat. "Th' ol' lady ain't one to keep pride before practicality, though. If ya don't mind *me* askin'…uh…why *don't* ya want ta just ask her." She looks at Amos expectantly.

Amos listens quietly, then nods to the answers given, although for now he's not making any notes. As the Ensign finishes he straightens a little to stretch his shoudlers then replies, "first off, because I don't appreciate having other officer's work dumped in my lap when I have enough of my own and am hoping to be able to convince Captain Siska to take up the matter. And secondly," he sets both hands down on the desk which nessecitates him leaning alittle closer, although he also lowers his voice just a little so it hopefully won't carry, "because the person who dumped this is my lap is Captain Gray, and I want as clear a picture as I can get of the situation as it stands before I do anything to follow up on any mere speculations from outside the Corp."

Kostas chews on her lower lip for a second, as Amos explains. "How soon ya need this info, Cap'n?" she asks, softly, after a moment. "Before th' next big thing? Or….?" She scratches at the back of her head, somewhat awkwardly. "I…was kinda hopin' ta catch a lift to one of Spree's main bases, assuming I ain't shot ta hell after th' next offenses. One of the ones that she had a while. If I can get a day's leave ta do so. If I do, an' it happens, if ya want I c'n ask some 'f my contacts there. They workin' stores. Some of the civilian volunteer corps. Bet I could get th' lowdown from them. At least for th' biggest stockpile and what they got now."

Amos doesn't look entirely comfortable with the situation himself, damned intelligence officers and their none-speak. He listens silently though then states, "I think after the next big push we could all do with leave. I'll see what I can do about it though." A deep breath with he lets out slowly before he continues, "one thing I want to make abundantly clear though, I'm not asking you to spy on your fellow marines, nor am I ordering you to. I'll take back to Captain Gray what you said about half rations and let him think on that as much as he chooses. If your contacts have anything useful to say, like 'yes, we secured most of the colonial arms on planet right after the attacks began' then obviously, I'd be delighted to hear that because our naval friend is right in one aspect, our own fleet supplies will not last."

Kostas's expression softens a bit. "I know you ain't, Sir. I'll see what the kids' got ta say, an' let you figure out what should be made of it. I guess we ain't had much time t' raid cylon held places or wreckage found in space 'r whatever, super busy an' all but…" She thinks a moment. "Might not be a bad thing t' think about, as we go along. I know a lot 'f folks don't like th' thought of that, siftin' through other folks dead lives for food and all, but…" she shrugs slightly. "Sometimes ya do what you gotta. There's a lot less 'f us than there used ta be. Don't think the dead folks care too much if we take what's useful." She chuffs a sigh. "An' thanks for lookin' in ta leave, Sir. Be happy to limit mine to even jus' 12 hours at th' other base, so other folks c'n have more, but…it's real important, Sir."

"If you have any particular ideas for salvage strategies," Amos starts, straightening up again with that tell-tail stiffness, "do please feel free to discuss them with Captain Siska." A pause and a faintly knowing look, "or any other staff officer should the good Captain happen to be busy at the time." He gives a brief nod as she expalins the leave requirements then adds, "I can't promise anything, but I'll do what I can. If it all comes to naught and he's still wants more information then I'm sure Captain Gray can pull a few strings and get it sorted." He leaves unspoken though the comment that that eventually is a whole lot closer to spying.

Kostas grins at Amos. "Shit, I could tell ya how t' do it on the ground, Sir. Even goin' through that place where we nabbed th' One…gave me an itchy feelin' to leave all that stuff behind, y'know? Old habits die hard. But maybe since we got civvie volunteers and all, once we take an area they could sweep it 'r something. If we gave 'em ground support to load it up." She's thinking out loud though, and reddens slightly. "Sorry. I'll think of a few things, if I see Cap'n Siska. If they put 'em into practice, so be it." She nods once. "Appreciate it, Sir." She eyes his shoulder. "Anything else y' need? 'R should I let you get back to th' papers?" she grins.

"If you can't find Captain Siska at a good time then use my authority to grab a word with whomever you need with regards to transportation. I'd suggest Captain St Clair if you're wanting to use Raptors," Amos answers quickly. Yes, technically he's treading on toes but if it gets things done he'll live that that, to a certain degree. About to dismiss her he then pauses, "if you happen to see the Corpsman who was with us, Petty Officer Leightner, then see what you make of him. Might just be the strain we're all under, but he was about earlier and didn't seem his usual self."

Kostas nods once. "Will do, Sir," she promises, and flashes that remarkably young grin again before it vanishes back into marine game-face. She lifts her chin at the mention of Leightner, curiously. "I'll keep an eye out, Sir. Seemed OK last night when I saw him but…well. I'll let ya know if I notice anythin'." She pauses for a moment, then fainly frowns. "Be sure you takin' care too, Cap'n. Won't be too much fun if you gotta sit out *all* the fun comin' up." she tells him. And then if dimissed, she'll be off and running to see what she can do about the requests handed to her.

Amos gives a brief nod of both acknowledgement and thnaks with regards to Leightner then grins slightly as she continues. "Don't worry Ensign, I have no intention of sitting any of it out and I;ve been at this game long enough to listen to what my body is telling me. I'll be fine." There's aother brief pause as e checks he hasn't forgotten anything and then she gets the nod, "let me know what you find out, dismissed."

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