AWD #023: Help From My Friends
Help From My Friends
Summary: Iphigenia seeks out Beckett, for help with a project
Date: 29/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: All them Child Rescue scenes
Beckett Iphigenia 
Marine HQ, Deck 3
The headquarters of Third Battalion, Eighth Marines is the primary command location for all Marines associated with Task Force NOMAD. The walls and desks are covered with maps, photos, and satellite imagery. Secure phones are bolted to each bulkhead, and for added insurance, each desk possesses its own encrypted wireless unit with its own independent wiring. The small room is always manned by a wireless operator and a duty sergeant, though it tends to explode with activity during duty hours.
January 29, 2004

The HQ as in all duty hours is a bustle of activity-though right now it seems the officers that keep their desks and offices in here are more subdued. Currently it consists of a few of the S3's staff, and the Marine AUX XO, who is at his own desk, looking over a map of Picon, a pencil in one hand as he draws out positions, a note pad close by-to add strategy or other notes the Major might have. The two Ensigns crowding the map table soon head out with a few printed sheets, after only stopping to set one on the Major's desk, leaving it just as the Major and the duty sergeant who works diligently and quietly by the phone.

Beckett leans back as eyes go over the map-before he is reaching into his desk, and pulls out a small, rumpled pack of cigarettes. One smoke is plucked and placed to his lips, before he is reaching for his lighter.

Poker face, poker face, as Iphigenia makes the walk into Marine Land. There's a brief query to one of the adminstrative types and then she's directed to Beckett. Approaching his desk, she inquires politely, "Excuse me, Major." Her accent is of course, the posh received pronunciation of Virgon nobility. "Do you have a few minutes you could spare for me?"

In comes the Chaplain, and she would be met with the peppered and somewhat scraggly faced Major. (likely he needs a shave for the scruff on his visage) But, for the most part, he is polished and presentable in his duty blacks. It's the clipped poshness that brings his attention off of his paper. And there one hand comes up to run over his jaw. A brief pause, before he lets his eyes trail to her neck, and then to the pins, before he is rising up. "Lieutenant." Sister. "Of course, I do, please have a seat…" the cigarette is quickly placed to rest in a nearby ashtray that is in the need of a good cleaning. "You wanna coffee, or a cuppa somethin'? A smoke?" His own voice is rough, and holds the seeder accent of someone from Aerilon. The twang distinct to his part of the mountains. "I can scrounge ya somethin.."

"No, no thank you. I'm a tea drinker, I'm afraid, and the only thing I smoke is chamalla - and on rare occasion, a fumarello." Huh. That may be a surprise. But she grins faintly as she says it, though quickly enough her expression turns serious. "I don't wish to waste your time, so I'll get straight to the point. I'm developing a protocol for rescuing children. Also pregnant and nursing mothers. Basically they'd be designed so that marines and air wing on the ground know under what circumstances they can and should take them on for return processing and installment on Piraeus. Children are a delicate matter and their circumstances may or may not suit being evacuated, but they are a generation that needs to survive."
GAME: Save complete.

"Chamalla, I cannot offer you, though, where I am from, it's called Demeter's plant." he states with a slight grin. Still he comes back over before he is moving to set back down. "I do have a fumarello, but that is in my locker.." he adds with a faint shake of his head, before he is reaching for the cigarette. A pull there before he is blowing the smoke away from the chaplain. "I am sorry I ain't a great host, sister." he adds before he is looking back towards the Chaplain. "Shoot." meaning go on. Still he's quiet as he listens towards the young woman, and his hand comes up to scratch along the black scruff on his jaw. "Uh huh.." he adds before reaching for his pen to jot something down. "So you want to give me protocols in which I can say save someone or not?" he asks-though there's no hostility in his voice-even if the words seem ill chosen. "Or, like do you want to work with me on said protocols?" His brow raising a bit.

"Being a pleasant host is not in what you produce, but in how you treat your guest, Major. And you've been gracious enough that not even my highly proper grandparents would find cause for complaint." She seems interested in the remark about chamalla's alternate name, and perhaps starts to ask a question, but his further query about the business they're discussing has her lifting a hand as if to belay concern that she's trying to dictate anything. "Not people in general, but children in particular. I want your blessing and your input, and you as well as the DCAG and Lieutenant Colonel Petra would have editing privileges over the document before it is submitted formally to the Admiral." Gen explains. "The three of you are the triad I need to support this and I would be foolish not to submit to your greater expertise. But I…feel very strongly that those children who are not otherwise tied to the colonies they are on should be brought to Piraeus. There's just so many factors involved however, and arbitrarily taking any child could go badly. Guidelines are better for everyone."

"Well then, I am glad your grandparents would feel comofrtable with my country demeanor." Beckett says with a faint grin, before he is nodding,the hand coming up halting his progress of any further words. Instead he merely reaches to ash his smoke and start another drag. Quiet as he allows the Sister her time to talk and explain further what she is looking for. "In order though to get my blessing Sister. I would need to know what you are asking for beyond my support. And what sort of action you have in your head. I can tell you my experience with rescuing children and my concerns. Which" and there he waves with his cigarette hand. "-which, I believe needs to be heard, so you can plan exactly how to phrase it so the Admiral will see the need of using resources to specifically save children." And there he is taking another drag of his smoke. "I am not saying no. Let's be clear. But, I do want us to chat about it, before I sign my Laird MacRae on anything." a reference likely to some well known general in the colonies early history. "I am Cyrus, by the way." Of course Knowing him as Major Beckett-he at least informs on his first name.

"Iphigenia. It's a mouthful, so Gen if it pleases you." She smiles, faintly amused. "Wel, they were terribly old guard." she can't help but remark, and since they have been dead since well before Virgon was cracked, she can talk about them without the pain of it looming too sharply, and even a smile on her face. "Let me clarify - I'm asking for your blessing to pursue developing it. I'm not even asking for the Admiral to task out missions for saving children. I'm just asking for there to be a set of protocols our people can use to determine under what circumstances they can take them. If you'd be willing to help me develop them, I'd be massively grateful."

"It's a pretty name." Beckett replies before taking another drag of his cigarette. "Gen works.." As does sister and lieutenant. There's a brief look back to the woman as he leans in his chair for a moment. "My folks hunted squirrels and mined." a chuckle there. "I am sure they woulda been fine friends." Still he nods once more. "Well, if you want my blessing to pursue something that is on your heart. You can have it. I am not going to squash your dreams when it comes to saving non coms." the major says "I will however try and impart a little history. I've seen two full engagements on Colonial soil and I have seen a massacre." he adds. "In all of em, children played a part. As such the marines already have a small set of guidelines to follow when it comes to this sorta thing."

"Please." she says earnestly. "I've had my share of education in military history, but I'm quite certain it's nowhere near the level of yours. And my perspective of training is mainly from the outlook of how treatment of PTSD has developed over the years. If I have not made it clear, I would be greatful for any assistance you can provide."

Beckett shakes his head. "No you have.." he says before he is ashing his cigarette once more. "I am just stressing on the importance-which likely you get." A lick of his teeth, before he finally sits forward and setsd the cigarette aside once more. "When I was on Tauron- we had a fella try and save these kids from some gutted out apartments. Ordinance had broken them apart like frakkin' eggs. Still we had to go through and clean out rebels from Hypatia. One of my boys, a Corporal who shoulda known better, reached up to get this kid from one of the buildings. We told him to leave it, but he wouldn't." And there he keeps his eyes on the Chaplain. "Sniper bullet got him dead in the face-sent bits o' bone over the little gril-boy? I don' remember.." a sigh. "We had that in Aerilon too-though it was more crazed parents afraid we were gonna steal their kids and murder em.." eyes close for a moment. "So, procedure is as follows. Unless directed. You make no move to help a civilian. Sure you can crowd em back behind you-but you don't stop your mission to pull someone from a building."

She studies him a moment, her training as a therapist and natural empathy kicking in. She seems to think he's not unwilling to bend, but wants to be respectful in her approach. "I understand why that is." she says, tone softer. "But…we've never faced genocide before, Cyrus. And circumstances under which rescue and retrieva are acceptable would be part of those protocols. Including the fact that rescuing mission critical personnel is a priority, as well as the orders of the ranking officer at hand. It's easy to make hasty decisions in the field. Knowing that you may not take a child unwillingly from a parent, or seperate siblings without their consent, or permit a child over a certain age the choice to stay or not can make such decisions easier. These are examples of what I'd like to include in the protocol."

Beckett watches her for a moment before he is shaking his head. "I will agree, but the situation stands. If we're going into an area with high tempo resistance from the opposition then I am not going to tell my marines to grab up a kid and hoof it back to the raptors." he adds before he is looking back to her. " I don't feel like I am going to make any hasty decisions-nor do I think it's frakkin' easy. When you're down there in it, Lieutenant you're going to be focused at the task at hand-which means you're calculating a hundred different decisions and outcomes. In the end you have to do what is best for the crew." A pause there. "And your men." and with that he looks back to the Chaplain. "I'm willing to help."

Iphigenia says patiently, "I think perhaps, we're saying the same thing, just from different perspectives. But your help is exactly what I was hoping for, so I shall consider this mission a success." She smiles at him, an air of relief about her. Maybe she expected him not to agree at all.

Beckett offers a half grin there before he is reaching back for his cigarette. "Likely we are." he adds before taking a drag. "But I am also trying to give you perhaps added perspective in all this at the same time." and there smoke coils out his nostrils before he is taking one more drag and blowing it all away. Cigarette smashed down into the ashtray, hastily and none too delicately. "Look, Gen?" careful as if to figure he still has that right to call her by her name. "I understand what you want. And I will give it to you." his blessing that is. "But-" and there's a shake of his head. "No. I just want you hearing everything that folks are gonna throw at you in this endeavor." a half laugh there. "Perhaps I ain't the best at it."

"I think you're good enough at it, Cyrus." She's not angry, her smile staying true. There's something reserved about her, but she's always like that. "Added perspective is what's needed. I expect this will go few a through drafts, and there will be conflicts over appropriate actions on some points but in the end I'm hoping to be able to provide clear instructions that will serve everyone in the field and insure continued survival."

"Well." Cyrus says, "It'll mean a new training implementation, but I also think it'll work with the other training we have going on at the current, in order to make sure that we do this correctly and safety." he adds. "It's about survival and continued special survival, lieutenant, but it also goes to helping us win the war." The one they are fighting, that is indeed already over-Or so one could argue. "Thank you though," The marine says with a faint smile. "For thinking I am."

Iphigenia grins. "They didn't choose poorly when they staffed this battlestar." she tells him, rising to her feet. "I realize I haven't spent a great deal of time meeting many of the marines who don't frequent the chapel, but with your permission, I'll take time to make more visits." Like she's visiting Marine Land, one of the many exciting adventures in the BS Orion theme park.

"I know, I don't come as near much as I should..My folks were strict followers of the holy mother.." meaning Demeter. "As am I..Just.. I feel better when on the ground for it." he notes before he is looking back towards the Chaplain, but then he is offering his own smile. "Of course you can come on down here anytime you like Sister." the marine offers. "I just ask, if you do, that you look me up." a grin there before he is clicking his pen closed. "Not that I'll monopolize your time or nothin.." Beckett adds before he is reaching for his plain coffee cup. A glance in, before it is set down.

"Demeter is a very comforting goddess, isn't she? Some of her hymns are beautiful." And right there in the middle of marine HQ, albeit not too loudly, she sings a line from one of the harvest hymns. Gorgeous voice, a mellow sounding mezzo. Music could have been a career option. She gives him a conspiritorial grin after she stops. "Do let me know if there's any concerns you feel I can help with when seeing to your marines' well being. It' what I'm here for."

He's silent for a moment while the priestess sings, and there in the busyness of the day and duty there is a moment like this. It does make the major smile, and his eyes drop down for a moemnt. "She's an eternal mother." there a bit of reverence shown before he is smiling-honestly so back to the priestess. "Thank you." for the hymn-but that doesn't quite leave Beckett's mouth. But she does get another softer, thank you. "I can, Gen." he adds there. "I've already directed them to you, should they be experiencing any crisis of faith-or." Well the usual tghat comes with combat.

"Splended." She smiles broadly. "Then I'll be speaking to you again very soon, Cyrus." With a nod of her head - a chaplain has no saluting requirement, she winds her way through the area, thought not without one or two stops as marines have her pause for quick exchanges and inquiries.

Beckett watches and follows the Chaplain out with his eyes before he is grinning and looking back down to his map. There. Focus back on the task at hand, and he is going on to start writing once more. more notes. More planning.

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