AWD #046: Everything Falls Apart
Everything Falls Apart
Summary: The third mission to Picon proves that not everything as it seems.
Date: 21/02/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Previous Picon Logs
Zachary Rozzen Iphigenia Maia Zander Afton 
Hangar Bay - Battlestar Orion
The hangar bay of the Orion.
21 February 2005

The hangar bay before the mission. At the Raptor that is being prepped for the mission to Picon, Zachary is waiting for the pilot and ECO to show up so they can go over the checks and the mission brief. He doesn't plan on being here for very long, and he has a box tucked under his arm.

Iphigenia is standing by the raptor, holding out her arms as she inspects the flight suit she's wearing. She's clearly intrigued by it as she examines her arms and gloves, her helmet set on the floor next to her. She looks fairly bemused, and it's actually kind of comical.

Cleared by the Medic for the flight, Maia is wearing just a brace for support on her knee, but she seems to be walking on it just fine. Wearing her flight suit, helmet tucked under an arm, she approaches the Raptor, that same thrill of excitement arrowing through her that always does when she knows she's about to be a the controls of on of the ships. Her steps are easy, her smile confident and as she reaches Zachary, she snaps to attention, offering a salute. "Sir."

Afton's helmet hits her hip as she walks, clipped to all her gear and adjusts her BDU's. She looks like a grunt and even more so with her slick shaved head and those claw marks healing at the right side of her face. GI Jane! Rolling her shoulders back, she sighs and adjusts the pack on her shoulders before she is tightening straps and gear for the ride. Its then she moves to climb up the wing of the Raptor, hop, and broad sure steps. She's done this a million times. She glances at the Chaplain a moment, pausing as she grips the edge of the entryway. "Sister. It looks good."

As far as Zander "Buttons" Sava goes, he's strolling in with some forced swagger to his step and a pair of sunglasses on his face. He's trying to look Viper-y, but it's not exactly working for him, considering that he's just a straight up ECO. He's got a small bag he's carrying too, which may be personal things or it may be stuff needed for the flight. Whatever. It'll be small enough to fit under his seat so he's good to go with it. "Alright, alright. This looks like it's gonna' be a party, am I right?" Zander's Viper impression probably leaves a lot to be desired, but at least he can keep his shades on and hide his eyes from whomever may want to look at him like he's out of his mind.

Iphigenia looks apologetically at Afton. "I didn't mean to appear vain. I'm just thoroughly unused to wearing one." She smiles sheepishly. "It always feels a bit odd to me."

"Hey Centerfold." Zachary greets Maia when he sees her approaching and gives a bemused mile at Iphigenia. "I think we all go through that the first time we put on the flight suit. It's like putting a sweater on a cat." he comments as he glances about. "Alright, so Captain Rozzen is going to be the ranker on this trip, but it's Sister Arden's mission." he points out to Maia and Zander when they arrive. "You're also going to be on the ground - so what they say goes. I don't want anyone complaining about having to get their fingers dirty because the Sister or the Jumper ask them to. Furthermore, while we are on Picon to help, this is a humanitarian mission. Do not risk the Raptor, it may be a while before we can come get you if you do. I'd also suggest making sure there's a guard posted or to talk to Spree to make sure it doesn't get 'commandered' into the fleet." he points out to them both.

With that, he hands the box to Geni. "I make sure that before a mission I pack a snack for the group flying. Usually it's a meal in the mess or a little solo something for the pilot and/or ECO. In this case, I was bored. So." he says, handing over the box. Inside is fresh made flatbread, sliced meats and cheeses and a few different dressings. There's fresh fruit and vegetables, and a cream cheese tart for each person.

He gives Afton another look and a grin. "Try not to get a matching set." he says to her before returning his attention to his charges. "Any questions?" he asks of Maia and Zander.

Iphigenia interjects, with a grateful look toward Zach before addressing the others, "Be advised also we may," she gently stresses, "Be taking on additional passengers. Oh, this looks beautiful, Zachary. I'm sure we're all going to enjoy it. It may be the last fresh food we see for a few days."

"Nah, you weren't being vein, just saying how it suits you." The PJ replies and Afton smiles then to the Zachary. "Sir, I am going to trust we won't have any wolves on Picon to contend with. Likely something completely different." She nods and then adjusts all that medical gear she is lugging around one more time. SHe's packed to the gills so to speak and looks ready to hit the hard stuff or any problems that arise.

Maia gives Zachary an easy grin, "Yes sir." Glancing to the sister, giving her a nod, her gaze not lingering there long, then looking between the rest of the team, nodding to each in turn. It wasn't easy being the new pilot, but she knew her stuff and she was confident she'd be able to handle this mission. Committing her instructions to memory, she draws her helmet into both hands, preparing to board when the time comes. "Nah, no questions." A cursory glance of the food and her smile widens. "You know the way to a girls good graces, sir."

Zander just kind of makes his way closer to the raptor, so that he can be prepared to do his ECO thing. He doesn't even remove his shades. He's too cool for school right now. "Questionless, Sir. I'll make sure your bird gets back in one piece." Zander pats the Raptor and then proceeds to just slide his bag onto it and shove it off in the direction of the ECO's seat.

"Actually Major," Iphigenia pipes up with an air about her like she's just remembered something, "There is something you can do for me."

Zachary gives a small nods. "..They've been in the battle for over forty five days now. You can learn a lot by watching them, bad and good. A lot of stuff we have taken for granted, they don't have anymore." A gesture to the box that Geni just mentioned. "There's going to be bartering I'm sure. You're also going to see stuff happening down there that would never fly up here." he says. "I don't mind you picking up some new tactics, but for the mission, keep it in your pants." Not that he should have to say it, he just does anyway. "Gather what information you can from the other pilots there. They're going to be experts by now on what areas to avoid, what area are good targets and where the emergency landing areas are." he explains to his pilot and ECO. "..last, as you get this information, share it with Captain Rozzen. She can help make sense of it and present it to me for mission planning."

He lets out a breath, and ends with. "If Sister Arden wants to pack the boat to the weight limit for kids, you do it. Strip everything off that damned Raptor except what is aboslutely needed to fly." he points out. "Both of you, take care, and I'll see you home soon." he offers a salute to his two squadron members and glances towards Iphigenia. "Have you blessed the bird yet?"

Iphigenia looks faintly amused. "I have not, but it's the purview of the pilot to have me do so or not. That said…I have one or things you could do for me, if you don't mind?" She continues, "Captain Cole has requested more cookies. And," her tone lowers, "You might speak to Dr. Samtara about starting to wean him off morpha."

"Yes sir," Maia snaps a salute one more time. "We'll get it done, all safe and bring back everyone the Sister wishes for us to." She's impatient to get inside and do the preflight check and get going. Oh yeah, she loves flying more than anything.

"I'll see about addressing both of those Geni, thank you." Zachary offers as he gives the group a last smile and after dropping his salute, starts towards the exit of the hangar. "So wish I was going with them.." he says with a shake of his head as he steps out.

Base ANVIL - Picon
A mountain base on Picon.
21 February 2005

The trip to Picon is fairly uneventful. There's the expected gaggle of basestars on the other side of Picon with Raider patrols in and outbound to them consistently. The constant stream of radio traffic from the ground makes it nearly impossible to break anything out until the Raptor gets down low into the atmosphere. There are enemy SAM positions dotting the terrain in several areas, though, but the intended flight path is clear. Riding down into the controlled airspace near Spree's Command Post takes about ten minutes and its apparently nighttime for their arrival. There are several turns and sharp banks required at random and the route takes them through a maze of deep mountain valleys and a canyon. It ends with a low-speed run up through a narrow valley that looks to terminate at a cliff face. The radio call comes to hold position and rotate the craft. Doing-so, the crew and passengers are faced with a small landing pad built into the side of the mountain underneath a large slab overhang of rock. Surrounding the mouth, hidden in the trees, are half a dozen heavy-caliber antiaircraft guns with their barrels all trained on the Raptor. A deckhand with a flashlight gets their attention and directs them in to land while the guns keep their tracking all the way in. Inside there is a Marine fireteam on the 'deck' with heavy weapons all pointed directly at the cockpit even as they touchdown. There are also a dozen other Raptors and two Predators parked inside. Every single on of them looks to have been shot up but still flying. One of them even has ducttape patching where it looks like a SAM blew off a section of a vertical stabilizer. Crews are sitting with their birds, smoking around ordnance and fueling and paying little attention to the incoming Raptor.

According to the report from the previous trip, this is standard and to be expected. It might still be a bit unnerving. Or a lot.

Iphigenia has the fair skin of many of the women of her breeding, but by the time she's stepping off the Raptor, she is bone white, her pupils dialated from the adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream from all that crazy flying. "Thank you, Centerfold, Buttons. Very well done, both of you." She's willing to show her thankfulness to any Raptor pairing who gets her through things, you know, alive.

Climbing down the wing, Afton's helmet is still banging against her hip. Hopping off, her boots grind against the manmade landing pad. Rolling her shoulders back, she adjusts her med supplies and nods to the Raptor crew. "Well done, uneventful is never a bad thing considering." SHe glances to the Chaplain though, offering a faint smile as she reaches out her hand to pat her arm. "We get to ride back too, sir. Be ready." She will have plenty of time to breathe past her green gills while on planet. The PJ takes a moment to look at the crew, finding some comfort.

Something any pilot never wants to see is anti-aircraft guns aimed at their ship. Maia is no different. Following the directions of the deckhand, she carefully sets down the Raptor with precision and grace, feeling the weapons aimed at her there is a shiver of trepidation down her back that she carefully hides, keeping her expression neutral, speaking when necessary into the com, reassuring the others. Once safely landed, the blonde flips the switches, quietly doing her job, avoiding looking at the Marine fireteam very deliberately.

Looking through the window finally, blue carefully take stock of their surroundings, noticing the shot up Raptors and wincing. Unnerving. Yeah. Understatement. When her helmet is removed and she goes back to join the others, she grins at the Sister. She holds her helmet, prepared to go with the others when they leave, should they need her to.

Approaching the individuals disembarking the Raptor is a Marine about fifty years of age and dressed in abused combat fatigues and wearing his pistol belt. He has a stern face and the look of a man who is not to be trifled with. There are Sergeant Majors tabs sewn into his collar, too. On each side he is flanked by fully-kitted Marines holding their rifles low and staring. Not a single one of these people looks like they've seen regular grooming standards enforced in, well, forty-six days. At least the males look to have shaved sometime in the last week or so. They all stare at these clean people as if they were aliens and not to be trusted.

Despite the number of officers, the older enlisted doesn't even salute or look like he's inclined to. Stopping up short, his hands go behind him and he tilts to look at their patches. "Orion," he observes. "Right. Sergeant Major Eversmann. You'll be wantin' to see the Colonel. She's expectin' you." The man stands there, eying each one of them from their top down to the cleaned boots. "Come with me." Its really not worded as a request. "Stay with me to the Command Post. Anyone deviating or falling behind will be placed in the stockade pending the Colonel's review." A hand slices towards a mineshaft, each side guarded by fifty-caliber machinegun teams. He sets off to lead them without another word.

Afton turns to watch the approach of the Sergeant and her lips press together. The details, the ware, the sewn in tabs it all indicates so much more than can otherwise be expressed. Her eyes flicker over him and she nods her hear hairless head. "Yes, Sergeant." Simple answer is all that is needed in the Jumper's mind as she glances back at the rest of the group from the Orion and then begins to take up a place to follow after him. The Anti-aircraft draws her attention, studying the set up that has been put together. Its impressive.

She glances once more to her fellows before nodding to the Picon crews they pass.

Well. What can one say to that? Iphigenia follows, dutifully. She glances sidelong and behind her at the crew of the raptor she arrived in, but surely they have no real need for reassurance. She does as ordered, though she does press her luck with the marine. "Sergeant Major," she inquires, "Do you have any CMES here with you?"

Well, she's here and she's ready to help. Once alongside the others, Maia offers a grin. "I'm yours to command." Offering herself just as Buzz had told her. "Whatever you need me to do, I'm available."

The Sergeant Major leads them past the teams, each member straightening as he passes. He doesn't even look at them. The mineshaft leads them farther into the mountain, rock surrounding them with the wooden supports replaced with steel-reinforced structuring not unlike a battlestars. They've done some upgrades since the last visit. Welding teams are working to install more as they move. The people they pass range anywhere from around eight or nine years old into their thirties, though age is apparently a rare trait on Picon. Nobody smiles. "CMES?" Eversmann snorts. "Frak no. All the Chaplains we've got go out with our infantry and recon teams." He glances back at her and they continue winding through several different shafts. 'Bunkhouses' are built into excavated sections but it would appear the hospital section has been moved elsewhere this trip as they don't pass by or even hear it.

He takes them through one final turn and leads them into the Command Post. The whole room, about twenty by thirty feet, is lined with tables with communications gear and laptops, every available seating space used. In the center is a large map table built from the floor up by sandbags. The tabletop seems to have been built out of flattened sheetmetal from a Predator. Rolled maps are stored in a bin beside it and standing to the side of it is a woman in her forties, her sharp features looking like that of a hawk. She's in combat fatigues similar to that of the Sergeant Major, her own sidearm in a thigh holster.

"Colonel," Eversmann greets, stepping to the side for the others to enter. Spree turns her attention from the table and looks over at the new arrivals. There is no smile to be found on her face either. "Yes?" A flicker of recognition for Afton, then to the officers. "Judging by those faces, you all are the Orion team. Correct?"

"Aye, sir." Gen doesn't salute, and her introduction a second later will make clear why. "Lieutenant Sister Arden. Thank you for agreeing to meet. I'll try not to take up too much of your time, and while I'm here, if any of your personnel require my services if there's room to breathe, I'm at your disposal." She gestures. Lieutenants Kane and Sava. PO St. James." She returns her attention to Spree. "Captain Rozzen will be meeting up later." She cocks her head. "I trust Colonel Petra and his team are safe and sound?"

Maia does salute, a quick snap to attention, her face a mask of neutrality. "Sir," going directly into at ease, just listening to the Sister speak. She's here for whatever she's needed for, so as a result, just follows along, though takes interest in their surroundings as they pass through.

Spree looks to Afton's salute and waves if off. "No need for that here. You either know who is in charge or that Raptor is waiting outside to take you home." Its said to all of them, though. Just a statement of fact. Nobody in the CP laughs, though some are eying the new arrivals. Spree focuses on Iphigenia and quirks a brow. "I have no idea who Colonel Petra is or where he might be." She deflates and turns to face them, leaning a hip into the table. "As for having use for you around here, that's up to you. Not sure if you're volunteering for duty, Sister, but if that's the case we can give you a rifle and put you on the next patrol." She glances to the others and back. "So you're here for coordination of relief. Outstanding. I'd like to start scheduling in Raptors to pick up our wounded A-sap. You all did some good work on that initial Raptor and we sure as hell appreciate you guys bringing them back. If you all can deliver on that more, I can stop trying to focus on getting medical supplies and start looking for those pilots your Majors were asking about. As it stands, half my Raptor contingent is focused on medevac. We've got casualties building up at our evac sites, too. Can your hospital ship handle more than five hundred wounded?" Direct and to the point.

"We can take a gradual stream of wounded, with a max capacity of around seven hundred and fifty. It'll have to be paced out, and we can bring medical supplies on the inbound, though I don't know how limited those resources are, I'm afraid." Iphigenia replies, linking her hands behind her back. "However, I'd also like to address the matter of civilian evacuation. Not your able-bodied, but the youngest of the children, pregnant mothers, or those with infants." There's a pause, and a frown. "Sir, there was a raptor inbound to you from Orion just a few days ago. The Colonel, raptor team, and an aide were with him."

"Colonel Petra was on his way to meet with Bancroft, sir." Afton offers up before the talk of the medical ship is brought up. Then she goes quiet, glancing over towards Gen.

Spree listens closely, eyes never leaving Iphigenia. She's evaluating everything about the Sister while the Lieutenant speaks. Its the same kind of look that Jameson has when he is trying to gauge the value of the speaker and weigh their words. Heavy is the burden on the Lieutenant Colonel. She waits until the others have spoken up and her eyes flick hard to Afton. "Interesting." That's not the inflection of someone who was aware of that fact. Her lips purse for a moment and she looks over to a Petty Officer. "Kendra, can you pull that thing up? What you'd brought me from the crew two days ago?" The response is swift and the PO goes to work while Spree looks back to the group. "Outstanding, Sister. It sounds like you know what you're talking about. I won't hold you to the supplies, though. But I will hold you to the medevac. If you think this can be done, you'd be saving a whole helluva lot of lives down here. We lose more people to infections and medieval bullshit than to bullets or frag in this sector. To your point about the civilian evacuation." Spree stares at Iphigenia. "Lieutenant, these people are families. They are the loved ones of our fighting personnel. I want you to understand something: These people are currently as safe as we can make them. Given the context, I'm sure you can appreciate why I am interested in an evacuation. But I cannot say it strongly enough. If something happens to these families, there will be an unholy frakking hell to pay for your command. That needs to be clear with the precision of a laser guided bomb." A pause. "I asked your Major's this same question, and I will ask it to you as well. Where are you taking them? …And can I send someone back with you to verify the information you are giving me?"

The Petty Officer stays silent, watching the other PO head off for something because of what she said. Her brows furrow at that and then lets out a look long breath. Afton looks from the Colonel to the Lieutenant, shaking her head briefly before she steps forward. "I would like to help your medical staff until we get off of Picon. If you don't mind." She pats all her gear.

Sometimes it's better to listen, as the Sister speaks with Spree, Maia just looks between them, filing all the information away for the time being. There's nothing really she can input anyway, it's a rescue mission the Chaplain had organized.

Spree smirks to Iphigenia's reply. "Good answer, Lieutenant." She takes a long breath. "Okay, I'll make you a deal. I'll get a group of volunteers who either want or need to be evacuated to this location you have. If you all are this clean showing up here, that says plenty. But, you will have one individual among that group, and I will not say who, that will be someone I trust. They will evaluate the situation where you are taking them and then they will request to be returned to this command post. They will be returned to this post as soon as humanly possible, without excuse or stall. If this individual is impeded from return, all goodwill from this command is burned and we start over. I don't require you to make that assurance to me, though. That is something you can take back and have discussed. When you return for this group I am going to take that as implication that your command has agreed to this requirement." She holds up a finger. "I do not hold you solely responsible for this action, Sister. But the accountability of your Command will be tested for this. I'll further ask people to be sent back from time to time to report to me on the conditions. Over time, we can build this trust if everything checks out. I don't require these individuals reporting to me to stay on Picon after the report, only that they be allowed freedom to communicate whatever they want in any manner they choose." A pause. "With the understanding that this freedom does not extend to disclosing your ship's location. Does this sound workable from what you know?" The Petty Officer, Kendra, lifts a hand to gesture to the group to join her at the laptop and the speakers. Spree steps over. Then, "You said you sent a Raptor in with passengers to talk to Bancroft. That you had some Colonel aboard?" On the screen there is an audio file ready to be played. The PO turns up the speakers and unplugs her headphones.

"I can take that offer back to my superiors sir, and I will. I would like to take people back with us now, but I understand your reasonable caution." Gen quells her disapointment - she wanted to at least see if she could take back a small half dozen perhaps, and then says, "Aye. Colonel Marcus Petra, his raptor team, and a nugget serving as his aide."

The Chaplain can speak but Afton draws closer towards the set up and eyes the PO as the headphones are pulled free. She presses her lips to a thin line and glances over towards Spree before glancing to the system. She waits, silently, as if uneasy with what she might hear.

Spree nods. "Agreeable. I've got three wounded who are in need of surgery. They're stable, but they'll die in the next few days. They're all yours, just send them back." She crosses her arms and looks between the three. "A Colonel Marcus Petra, a Raptor team, and a nugget who is some kind of assistant," she repeats. "Two days ago we had a Raptor team running a medevac mission out on the northeast side of sector where it bumps up against Bancrofts. And I'll tell you right now, his Command Post is not even close to where our team picked up this signal. There was a Colonial transponder at max distance on DRADIS and the transpo matched what you're about to hear." She glances to the PO. "Play it, Kendra." She does.

The sound comes in with static. There is some normal comms chatter very much in the clear, the Raptor reporting that its outbound from the pickup. Routine traffic. Then, way in the distance, is a voice filled with desperation. Buried in the white noise of radio traffic, its there and barely audible except for the volume of the recording.

"Wescott, POWER ON AND CLIMB!" a female voice yells. There's a brief pause, then, "Raptor One-One-Six-Juliet we are taking SAM fire two minutes north of our jump-in point!" In the background is the sound of power in a Raptor being shoved up and the afterburners kicking on. "Repeat, we are underat-" The transmission garbles into what sounds like an explosion.

Spree looks at them. "Our Raptor team reported that the transponder vanished after that and they lost contact. They tried to radio back, but got no response."

Two days ago. Afton just stares at Spree a moment and her eyes shift, going distant as her brows furrow. Hands rest on her gear, waiting and when the radio chatter hits the air, she strains. Its the last name that does it, her breath halting as she tries to listen; tries to glean something. The PJ's grip tighten briefly on her gear and she speaks up, "PO Kelsey Wescott is that nugget, sir." Pause, her breath coming just a bit quicker, but otherwise she seems composed, her sharp green eyes lifting to Spree. "Is that area that you got the transponder from crawling with cylons or something? That ride was supposed to be clear for them."

Hearing the exchange of information, Maia stiffens a little, listening closer to the words being said, then the static sound comes over and she looks towards it as if for answers, the desperation.. Her eyes fly to the Chaplain, then the rest of the team to see if they also recognized the voice. "Garis.." an almost choked word that is like a loud bang in the room. "We're gone, we're going.." Then remembering the chain of command, she looks at the others, "We have to go and get them.." Under attack.. Gods.

While the staticy sounds of the Raptor's attempted evasion float up from the laptop's speakers, two more figures enter the room. The one in the worse-for-wear uniform lingers behind, drawing a distractedly thankful nod from Rozzen before the Captain continues on towards the others from Orion. A furrow is settling in between her brows as she cocks her ear towards the playing transmission. It thus takes her a moment to find Spree and offer the woman a salute. "Colonel Spree," she infers with a note of question. "Captain Moira Rozzen." Dark eyes shift briefly toward Afton and Maia for their comments. "You have information that our people have been shot down?"

Iphigenia opens her mouth to comment on the evac, but that can wait, and she shuts it. She lets Rozzen come to the fore so they can work out the logistics of getting their people back, and instead waits quietly and starts sorting considering how to organizing who they'll take back with them.

The Lieutenant Colonel looks to Afton, watching that reaction. "That area is what we call 'very low intensity'. There's canners everywhere, but they're not terribly common out there. The only thing that is even remotely close is a construction site of theirs about sixty miles south, supposedly. Bancroft was going to send a team out to recon it, but that's about it." She sucks in a breath. "The only SAM activity in that region, ever, has been the Commander's people." The whole of the CP has sort of stopped and is listening. "And why the hell your Raptor was out there is beyond me. His CP is one hundred miles from there. I sent a SAR bird out there that night to look, but they were warned off. Said the area was hot with enemy agents and they were running close air." Spree's face? Not Impressed. Her voice is downright surly. She looks over as Rozzen enters and she dips her head. "Captain. It would appear we do, yes. Possibly another problem." She stares at Rozzen. "Exactly WHAT was your team doing out there?" That's not a request.

What Spree is saying causes Afton's face to fall and then go stony. A nod to Rozzen is given. "Colonel, could you play it again for us?" She glances to the PO though, drawing a breath. "With permission, I would like to take some ground runners out that way to see if we can find anything from the Raptor. Possibly survivors." Its obvious that she seems ready to accept casualties though her jaw tenses, tightening.

Maia isn't one to stand around waiting, but sometimes that's the only way to get things done. When the request is given of why the team was out there, she too goes neutral, not that she knows, but she doesn't want to be questioned about something she knows nothing about. Instead, she stares between Rozzen and Afton, willing them to get something done. Now.

Iphigenia remains silent, and out of the way at this juncture. This is out of her baliwick.

Rozzen falls to an attentive stance under the Colonel's stare, her hands linking loosely behind her. The demand of the other woman's question has her blinking, though her expression remains largely impassive save that lingering fold of her brow. "Our team was responding to an invitation from Commander Bancroft," she says with smooth surety. "We have been hoping to explore how we might coordinate with the resistance on Picon and Aerilon. I would have thought you would have been aware, Colonel." Again she blinks, turning another brief look aside to Afton. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she she cautions the PJ. "Am I to understand from what you've said," back to Spree, "that you don't believe the Cylons would have had the capabilities to shoot down our Raptor at that location?" A hint of worry leaks through in the lift of her eyebrows.

Spree averts her eyes to Afton. "The only way out there is by air. Unless you want to spend a week or two on the ground. That area is about four hundred miles from here, give or take. What you do with your Raptor is your own business. But if this is some kind of serious situation with Bancroft and you go out there, you might be flying into a SAM trap or get into a fight bigger than you are ready for." She looks to Maia as well. SAMs. She motions for the recording to be played again and its run through once more. But when its done and she hears what Rozzen has to say, its red and stoney rage that builds on her face. Bubbling, her body tenses and she bellows, "WHAT!!?" You can't fake that. Spittle flies from her mouth as she yells it. Any activity in the Command Post comes to a crashing halt. "NO! I was NOT aware. I'm second in command of this godsdamned frakking resistance force! If he were doing that, I'd have been TOLD!" Stress of command takes its toll and when tempers explode under stress like hers, they tend to go big. Like a nuclear weapon. She stares at Rozzen, the rage still boiling. A finger is stabbed in her direction as Spree takes a step closer. "No. Your Colonel was someplace where there have never BEEN SAMs." She looks between the women of the group. "Oh, this- this is real rich. I swear up and down this command, are you frakking with me?" A very cold, bitter calm suddenly descends on her, eyes wide.

Spree snaps her fingers and aims at another PO on the other side of the room. "Ken. Alert the relay Raptors. I've got traffic for Bancroft. NOW." The PO goes to work on his radio set.

It is ultimately Spree's reaction that brings the PJ about, turning to face her and stare for a hot minute. "Frakkin' hades tar pits.." she rumbles and realizes what is going on. The more information that inadvertantly is given from the resistance officer has her face going white. She suddenly feels ill at ease standing and not in motion but she doesn't just turn on heel and leave. "Sir, we are speaking truth. That tape is truth enough." She points at the recording and then draws a sharp breath in.

Iphigenia remains silent. Out of the way. No chaplain here. Nope.

It is ultimately Spree's reaction that brings the PJ about, turning to face her and stare for a hot minute. "Frakkin' hades tar pits.." she rumbles and realizes what is going on. The more information that inadvertantly is given from the resistance officer has her face going white. She suddenly feels ill at ease standing and not in motion but she doesn't just turn on heel and leave. "Sir, we are speaking truth. That tape is truth enough." She points at the recording and then draws a sharp breath in.

"I'm the pilot," Maia finally chimes in. "Whatever it takes we don't leave a team behind, and they're down and in danger. Whatever we have to do, we're going to do it." The stony look on her face is determination. Have a good look, she's not giving in on this one. "I don't know how or even why they are there, I wasn't given that information, what I do know is that they are there and I will not leave without getting them back out."

Moira's dark eyes widen as the Colonel's rage crashes towards her. The force of it rocks her back a little onto her heels. "Sir," she appeases as her hands loosen, one opened palm partially lifting. Small, slow gestures. "I assure you, we are not." This time her eyes remain fixed upon Spree, though she nods emphasis to Afton's note regarding the recording from Garis. Mention of Bancroft has her swallowing down her nerves and looking towards Ken. Maia's comments have her mouth tensing, but she doesn't add anything to them for the moment. "It sounds as if there's been some miscommunication," is said with barely contained calm to Spree. Out the edge of her eye, she watches towards Ken with some trepidation.

Spree stares at Afton. "Ohhhh Petty Officer, we're about to find out." There's something highly cruel and less than entertained by her voice and look. To Maia, she turns her stare. "You've got the keys to your bird, lady. I'm not your CO. That's your officer right there," Spree says in the same voice, motioning to Rozzen. The PO calls out, "Relay established, Colonel. Fox Mike is on the line." He sounds a little nervous. Spree walks over to the table. "Every one of you shut your godsdamned mouths for this. I'll shoot the first peeper, I swear to Athena. Ken, make sure you're recording this." She flicks a rocker switch on an electrical panel and the overhead speakers come on. Picking up the radio handset, she takes on a smile and looks to the table. Her tone goes conversational almost disturbingly fast. "Hey Fox, Sierra Juliet here. Hey, I sent a SAR bird up your direction to sector one-one-zero-charlie two nights back? We were waved out of the area due to hostile activity. I wanted to know what ever came of that situation, over."

Overhead, the speakers crackle to life after a second. "We had a Raptor shot down by enemy agents down there. We're still trying to locate them but we think we know where they are at. We'll clean up our own mess, Jules, over."

Spree stares at the group in front of her. "Really, Fox? Cuz that's a funny story. See, I've got this crew of officers that are saying their Raptor was shot down. Now, I told them that that's simply ridiculous because the only people in that area with mud-to-air gear are your own people. Well, turns out that they happened to inquire about the visit of their people to your command post. …A command post that's nowhere near there. Something about coordinating operations that I hadn't been informed about, over."

The silence lingers. And lingers. "Fox Mike?" Spree calls.

"Jameson and Faulkner are dead. We're trying to recover their bodies. They were shot down by enemy agents. Those officers in front of you now fall under my command jurisdiction. Have them report to me immediately, over."

"Fox, what the hell have you done?" she asks and then looks over to Ken and makes a cutting motion with her throat. The line goes dead. Spree turns her eyes back on the Orion personnel. Pins could fall and it would be the loudest sounds in the room. "Where are Jameson and Faulkner?" she asks carefully.

Tension fills the air, so thick its hard to breathe and the PJ watches Spree speak her magic across that mic. Gods. Her face pales and she closes her eyes when she hears the last, her gloved hand lifting to her shaven head, letting out a soft curse as the Colonel inquires of the group. Green eyes lift to look at the officer and she touches her badge from the Orion. "The battlestar." She says faintly, glancing to Rozzen and then the others. "Peacock, Wescott, Garis…and the TACCO were all on that damned bus…what the hell is wrong with your people?" She asks, but its in general to the whole command. "Frak.." Her voice is pitched low.

Iphigenia's eyes flare wide, her nostrils going white and lips set in a thin, grim line. "On Orion." she says, softly enough to keep the mike from picking it up. "By Athena's shield and Ares' sword, they are both on Orion." Her upper lip lifts in a snarl, but her voice is still low. "We need to know if he truly has our people."

There's a brief moment when it seems Maia is going to say something further, to comment on what she just learned, but she barely manages to bite her tongue and stoically look at Spree, her gaze as frightfully calm and neutral as she can make it. Hooded eyes regard them, hooded to hide the burning anger in her gaze.

There's a heightened intensity to Moira's gaze, unsurprisingly, as she listens to Spree. At the Colonel's words to Maia, the Captain fades back a step and moves towards Iphigenia. She leans towards the taller woman, her voice soft. "Were you going to pick up any people, Lieutenant?" But she barely gets the question out before Spree makes it to the table and commands silence. She straightens to listen, jaw tight. Her eyes fix distant and downcast, roving with thought under her furrowed brows.

That is, until the names of the commanding officers send them arching upward. She snaps a look back up to Spree. Afton answers while she's still deciding how to. Rozzen confirms with a shallow dip of her chin. "The Commander had requested our commanding officers attend the meeting, but we did not send them." She pauses to steady herself with a breath. "Sir, you don't seem entirely surprised," she observes with similar care to the Colonel.

"Petty Officer, you watch your frakking tone," Spree tells Afton. "I may not be your commanding officer but you will show this command respect." There are no allowances made for an alternative. To Iphigenia, she shakes her head slowly. "No, if he had your crew or their bodies, he'd know damned well your Command Staff weren't on that Raptor. And he just declared them dead and that Orion now falls under his command purview." Looking back to Rozzen, though, her eyes narrow. "Bancroft requested that your Command Staff join hi-" She stops and bites her lips. The radio mic is tossed to clatter on the table and she plants her hands, nodding. "Okay. Okay." She takes a breath. "Alright, let me lay this out and make sure I have this straight." Nails grip the table, peeling up a bit of paint off the sheetmetal. "Bancroft requested you Command Staff get into a Raptor to join him for coordination discussions. They sent a Colonel in their stead. This Raptor was directed to an area far from his command post and any other resistance activity or enemy action, and shot down. So, fast forward to today. He claims that you CS is dead, pending recovery of their bodies, and that your entire task force falls underneath his command. Except that your staff was never on the bird. So he's got a Colonel out there and he thinks he's still looking for the dead bodies of two staff officers." Her shoulders flex and she looks up to the group. "Bancroft has been talking about getting your task force under heel. You do realize that this qualifies as an attempted mutiny."

Meeting Spree's gaze, Afton hesitates a moment and then finally replies, "Sir." The PO stays quiet then, but its obvious there is still a great amount of displeasure. A heavy breath is drawn and the PJ bites back any further words.

"Our. Team. Is. Down." Each word is ground out, "Sir." Added on just as an afterthought. "I don't care if it was a week ago, if there is even the slightest chance that they are alive, we're going to get them however we can. I can't make any decisions other than flying the Raptor there, whether we go get Marines for the ground work and a coordinated mission or something I don't care what we have to do, we have to get them out any way we can." Maia has her say then falls silent once again.

Iphigenia says quietly, "We need to find our people." Gen agrees softly. "And we need to take this back to Orion and tell them what's going on before Spree and her people are overrun."

Rozzen adds a nod to Spree's first words though adds none of her own as a glance aside takes in Afton's held tongue. Her arms have slung up into a fold, one hand propped up where she can press her thumbnail pensively against her lips as she listens to the Colonel's summary. "That's about how I see it, sir," she agrees grimly. There may be a curse on her exhale, though it's said softly enough to be cryptic. Up her fingers scrunch over her eyes as she listens to her team. Then, they fold tightly and she straightens herself with a long breath. "The Lietenant's right. This means you're in danger as much as our people. We will go after them," it's a promise turned towards Maia, "but there's no use going blindly. Colonel, can you offer us any help, anyone to assist us who's familiar with the area? In turn, I will do my best to see that we can support your people." Her lips purse. "The last thing we need right now is to be tearing ourselves apart. I can imagine the Basestars in orbit up there, watching us do their work for them."

The Colonel looks at Maia and lofts her brow. "I'm not going to stop you. They're your people. I can't sit here and cut terms for my people's evacuation, demand them back, and then throw piss in your face when you want to go get one of your own people. You want to grab them, that's on you. In fact, you get this guy back? March him through that door." She points to the hole into the Post. "We'll have a discussion. If this is the bullshit it sounds like, there's going to be some bitter pills to swallow." To Iphi, she nods. "I'll play nice with Bancroft and hold him off, but that won't go for long after that phonecall. KEN!" She looks over to the radioman. "Make a copy of that transmission. Kendra, same with yours. Send it with these folks. She looks back to Rozzen and gives an affirmative nod. "Already ahead of you. I'll be putting an airborne team out there tonight to try and set up an interception in case they are headed my direction. But if he's got teams out there looking for live bodies, this might turn into a shooting war real fast if my people make contact. They're getting a full briefing." Because there isn't already one going on. Its not a party until everyone is shooting at everyone else. "Bancroft has eight million people. They find out he did this and might have screwed us out of support from the Orion, that's going to be eight million very VERY pissed-off Picans. You take it back that I'm not following his chain of command anymore. Orion wants to deal with someone on this planet who wants their help and support, You tell 'em Carolyn frakkin Spree will happily not shoot their people down or try to assassinate their command staff. Get the hell out of here, fast." She aims a hand at the door as the two PO's hand off their recordings to Rozzen. "I can't commit much, but I'll give you what I can. We're already spread thin. I'm staking my command on this and the lives of the people in this CP. Make it count, Captain." Spoken directly to Roz.

Glancing to the Captain, Afton looks ready to move, giving a nod to Maia. She narrows her eyes and rocks back on her feet some. She's just waiting for word and the glance once more to Rozzen proves that.

And that's about as good as it's going to get, Maia realizes, that's as close as she is going to get to reassurances at this current moment. There's a quick nod, a flash of sympathy for Spree, realizing things had just went to hell for all concerned. The blonde has every intention of holding anyone to that promise.. her expression still remains stoic and she draws on normality while the talks continue by standing with her hands locked loosely behind her back even as she is directly addressed. "I have people to answer to or I'd be gone right now. I can't just take off, leaving this team here behind too." Damned if she does and if she doesn't.

These aren't really times for smiling, but a fierce sort of curve spreads upon Rozzen's lips. "Yes sir," she replies with the low thrum of resolve. "It will be a pleasure." She accepts the printouts with a glance, tucking them under her arm. "St. James. Chaplain. I believe we were prepared for a medevac?" Not that she was part of that conversation, so the mention is paired with a bit of a questioning look. "Lieutenant Kane, while we're making prepartions perhaps you can see what information the Colonel's people can provide for the return trip, so we can identify ourselves and coordinate more smoothly. The more quickly we can do this, the less fire exchanged, the better."

"Aye, sir. We were prepared. I can move and get them ready to go, sir. The Raptor is prepped for removal of persons." Afton response to the Captain, but seems a bit stiff now. Responsive but likely not thrilled currently with the fact they are leaving. She glances at Spree for a brief moment and nods to her, once more dragging a glove over the bald skin, scratching at her neck. "Sir, with your leave. If I could be shown to our passengers?"

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