AWD #469: Battle Plans
AWD #469: Battle Plans
Summary: Admiral Jameson and the Major Gray meet to discuss a possible battle plan. Elias is named as acting Tactical Officer.
Date: 03/10/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None.
Elias Jameson 
The Map Room
Where stuff is mapped.
APR 20 2006 (AWD#469)

Elias has the Map Room looking ship shape for the meeting with the Admiral, having set up the table itself to display the astrogation chart of the Twelve Colonies, with more detailed maps for the various planets and known Cylon space loaded and ready to go. A printed copy of his recommendations and analysis is set before an empty chair, awaiting Jameson's presence. And with his preparations complete, that is what the Intel Officer is doing as well — waiting. Dressed in the same blues he's been wearing all day, Elias leans against the edge of the central table, scanning notes on the top of his clipboard. It looks like he's found time to shave and get a trim, at least. And he is, for once, not actively smoking a cigarette.

Jameson enters after a long shift. He brought his dinner with him, carried by a yeoman. He holds the door for the Crewman and helps get things settled to the side before nodding to Elias. "Evenin, Major. Looks like you've got everything in order." He glances to the Yeoman and nods and the kid scurries out, the Admiral locking the door behind him. Jameson digs the wad out of his lip and tosses it into a trashcan as he passes. The guy settles down into the chair and takes a moment to let off a long exhale. "Pour yourself a cup of coffee, Elias. Want a bite to eat before we get to brass tacks?" he offers, pushing the tray towards the Major. Meatloaf and chips with a pickle. The same thing being served in mess. In the meantime he picks up the paper and scans it, nodding at what he see's.

Elias straightens up when the Admiral appears, but being the only one present the Intel Officer doesn't go in for the full formalities. "Good evening, sir," he greets Jameson. "Ready when you are." He goes to pour coffee, as requested, filling one mug for himself and a second for the Admiral. And he passes on the food, shaking his head. "No thank you, sir. It's all yours." He returns to set one steaming mug over by the tray of food before taking a sip from his own.

Lou takes the mug and lifts it in cheers and appreciation. He takes a sip while looking over the paper and sitting back. After a few more seconds he puts the paper down and looks back at the Major. "Alright, let's hit these point by point, real fast." He glances to the map of the colonies, then back. "First point, rolling into the second. I'm on board with this for the most part. We need every swinging dick in the field at this point and they've got an unlimited supply. We've got those two in the brig. You think they're going to pay off? If it does, that means we need them to actively recruit. Risk and reward there. If One knows he's that frakked, he might pull the plug." He leans forward and pulls the tray closer, reaching for a fork. "Convince me that offering them part of Piraeus is a good idea, taking this fleet and what they have been through into account."

The young Major gives a nod for the Admiral's mug-tip, then takes a swig of his own coffee, waiting while Jameson reads. "The Seven and Twelve don't seem to have learned the full truth about Piraeus, yet. But I think there is a good chance they will play ball, once they know. They took some rather large risks to try and find out the truth, sir. Even if they decided not to openly side with us, it seems unlikely they would throw in with One." Then he gives another quick nod of the point about Piraeus. "Given that they apparently came from the planet, and the effect it has on them, I assume they're going to make some sort of claim. We're asking them to turn against the Cylons and trust us. I think an 'anchor' would help with that. A home to fight for. A hope for the future. That's something the Cylons aren't offering."

"Considering they've spent six hours a day on that island, every day for the last several weeks, I hope to hell they've learned something. We're burning a lot of jet fuel on their security." Jameson takes a big bite of the meatloaf and chews on it and his thoughts, looking to the maps again. "I think I'm with you on that aspect, though. The One is the enemy, they just didn't know it before now. It looks like they've all been lied to pretty badly. Considering some of the notions attached to these models, I really don't think they're going to appreciate that. Especially if this is their home and the Cylons want to take it out." He takes another bite and leans back, fixing Elias with a gaze. "Prudent. But if they were going to, why haven't they already? This Marine Sergeant had plenty of time for it. None of the others have. We're not hearing any scuttle about it. Though." The mug is reached for and sipped, then resting the mug on the arm of the chair. "You make the point about pre-emption on it well. Whatever these things are that currently live there, they don't seem to take objection — but that doesn't mean they won't. I want you, personally, to ask them and explain. If you really can't handle it, then find someone you feel up to the task. But I'll be straight with you, Major, if these things down there are real beings its going to mean a lot more coming from a senior officer than some kid that they like." He pauses. "I saw a report that Sheperd might have been executed. If those guns aren't for show, we need to negotiate on three levels here, son. Understand?"

"Sergeant Knox spent the better part of a year on and off Piraeus," Elias points out the time factor. "And while I'm not certain exactly when he realized the connection, it doesn't seem to have been immediate." But he's on board with making the Ones the antagonists of this story. "Agreed, sir. We need to cast One as the enemy, helping the Cylons subjugate the other lines. If that alone is enough to sway them, I won't complain." Then he arches a brow, considering the Admiral's questions. "If they were going to … make a claim to Piraeus? I don't think the skinjobs are organized and thinking in that direction, yet. But if I were Sergeant Knox and I wanted to make a claim on Piraeus, I'd wait until I had an army of skinjobs to bargain with." Elias gives a small shrug. "It's possible he's biding his time, seeing how things play out. Or he may mean to stick with us, regardless. His line is 'honor' after all, sir." The instructions to negotiate with the Ghost Captain directly causes the young Major's mouth to compress into a tight line, but he gives a grim nod of understanding all the same. "I can handle it, sir." No lack of confidence. "I've avoided dealing with these … entities because we have no idea exactly what they are or what they want. And they appear to be able to learn things about us, or somehow pick up on our memories." Which might be problematic for the Intelligence Officer.

Jameson listens, eating while he does. There's no nodding or outward reaction, just the fact that he's watching Elias like a TV show over a HungryMan dinner. Until he makes the point of an army. That's something Jameson hadn't considered. "And last report out of Janko-whatever says he's got at least a battalion of Sixes itching for a fight." Shit. The Admiral looks sour and decides to reach for the pickle. He takes a bite off while leaning back. The point about picking off memories gets a slow nod. "Heard it. That's why I asked. If they can, they're going to know this conversation happened and that you and I take it seriously. Assuming they are something else, we need them on our side and backing us in this. No question. But I think we've hit an agreement point on these lines of discussion. Next." Another bite of the pickle and he chews while reading. "Skipping Three. We'll come back to it." Another bite and chew before the paper is tossed down. "Of the two, I say we hit Leonis. Its the only major colony left in the system since Virgon became an asteroid belt. If we can take it, we also liberate a whole damned lot of people. Scorpia, we need to get there. We do. Organize teams because I want recon done there and start giving them low end support. But if we hit Leonis, we're going to need even more there and right now. This is an insurgency and we need to start acting like it." He takes a breath. "Which brings me back to Three. Get your notepad out, son. We're launching an offensive. I'm done playing tiddlywinks with these frakkers and playing at a war. Its time we fight."

"I understand there's a unit of Nines as well," Elias adds to the skinjobs units reported to be forming on Caprica. And then there's another curt nod, accepting his marching orders for talking to the ghosts. "Understood, sir." He may not like the idea very much, but no objections are voiced. And then there's a slow nod for the Admiral's choice of Leonis as a target, and Elias is reaching for his pen and clipboard as the conversation gets around to more military topics. "Mmm," he says when Jameson announces the scope of his proposed plans, and once the Major has pen and paper in hand, he confirms, "Ready when you are, sir."

Lou takes a slice of the meatloaf in his hand and rises, coffee in the other. "Alright." He looks around, eating a piece, before finding the intelligence maps of Cylon space and the in-between. "Mmrph." He gestures while he finishes chewing. "Okay, Elias, with Petra involved in more tactical matters for the moment, you're my defacto TACCO so lets talk." He eats the rest of the piece, licking his fingers before washing it all down. Leaning forward on the table, he waggles a finger at the nebula between the known Cylon worlds and the Colonies. "Choke point. If what we're seeing is right, the Cylons have this route mapped and now we do too. Let's dissolve the battlegroups and create two new ones. Each one is headed by a super-dread. I want to turn them loose in here. Attach three flak frigs each and pick one to have the missile cruiser. I want this whole logistical train wrecked and destroyed. If we do that, they have to go around due to the amount of shit floating around in there. That means weeks rather than days for their resupply." He looks to Elias. "Priority targets in Cylon space. Surgical. I want to hit them where it hurts the most. Talk to whomever you have to, make whatever deals you need to, I want to know where we hit them to hurt them on their own home worlds. If you can figure out where they keep the Threes, I want them liberated. All of them. I want to hit One in the face with a brick on that." He then points to the other targets. "Fuel. Kill it all. We are not in there for recon, this is an aggressive search and destroy. I'm authorizing no restraints on prisoners in order to find what we need." The voice is low, quiet, and there's anger there. "The goal for us is to hit them so hard that we isolate the colonies as much as possible. Not desperate enough to nuke, but enough to make them shit themselves. We've been quiet until now." He slowly rises. "While we hit them, I want Leonis. Maximum effort." He sips the coffee again. "Trouble-shoot me. Where's the problems?"

"Mmm," Elias makes a noise of acknowledgement for being named 'defacto' TACCO, though he doesn't look terribly pleased about it. He watches, straight faced, as Jameson indicates the suspected Cylon jump routes, then nods his understanding and starts to take notes. The suggestion that he 'deal' for intel on what to hit behind enemy lines draws an arched brow, but then Elias nods again and scratches down another quick note about this, as well as the possibility of reviving the Threes. "Understood, sir." And then the sixty-four-thousand cubit question — what could go wrong. "We're going to want to keep this secret as long as possible. If word of this gets back to the Cylons before we move, our task forces could end up jumping straight into a trap. A diversion op might help there. Make them think our intentions are elsewhere." He pauses to consider. "Cylon response is the major issue. How many basestars do they have? How badly can we hurt them before they decide they need to glass Caprica before they lose it? We should consider contingency plans along those lines, sir."

Jameson listens while Elias chews it over, eating more in the meantime. He doesn't look like he's listening, but he probably is. In the end, he reaches for his coffee to wash down most of his dinner. "That's why I'm talking to you about this, not Captain Saint Clair or anyone else. I want you to figure this out and make it happen. Bu here's the bitch, son:" he takes a long breath. "We're going to have to brief the crew. We're going to have to trust them. If there's any traitors here, then its going to be on them. Pray to the Gods we got them all. But task this out, get it done. I'm up for a diversion, but we're looking at total commitment. Mitigate where you have to. We're throwing the dice and hoping for the best. Think you can do that?"

"Yes, of course," Elias says, admitting that briefings will need to be made. "It's mostly a question of timing. I'm fairly confident about security aboard the Fleet, but Spree's command, not to mention the other resistance commands, are … more of a concern, sir." He frowns faintly and looks at the star map before offers a possible diversionary move. "I recommend we use Aerlion. Let slip that that's our target. We've already paid the price to set that up." The price being human lives, in this case. As for what he is personally capable of, the young Major looks grim yet determined. It's only the fate of the human race at stake, after all. "Yes, sir. I believe I can work out our best chance for success. Then it's simply a matter of rolling the dice."

Jameson nods slowly. "Brief the Fleet. I'll handle Spree. Colonial Command doesn't need the same intel. It works better if they don't have it. More natural reactions will be the best." The guy sips his mug and sets the empty down. "Use Aerilon if you think that needs to be developed, but that place has been a factory of death to get us this far. We need to not abuse that. Respect it." There's only another nod before he moves for the door. Then he stops and looks back. "Promote Captain Saint Claire. She's temporary CAG, but she's earned Major. The position might be temporary but the rank sticks. Make it happen, Elias." he then moves off for the door.

"Yes, sir," Elias acknowledges the Admiral's instructions about information control, and then nods his understanding for the potential consequences on Aerilon. Nothing to be said there. It's the orders about Elias handling Bennett's promotion that gives the Intel Officer pause, however. "Understood. I assume this means I'm officially the acting TACCO? I had thought you meant 'for purposes of this planning session' earlier."

"Yeah. For the moment. Sorry, kid. Might want to get to the gym, work on the deltoids." Jameson leaves it there before unlocking the door and leading out.

"Aye aye, sir," Elias says, without the slightest trace of humor for the Admiral's joke about the gym. And once the compartment is clear, the young Major rubs at his face, exhales a long breath, and starts to rummage through his pocket. There's a lot of work to be done, but there's no way he's getting into it without a cigarette.

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