AWD #045: Isn't That a Question for Major Beckett?
Isn't That a Question for Major Beckett?
Summary: Sera heads to Battalion HQ to put in a request for MPs to guard her Centurion engineering project. Funnily enough, it turns out she's already talking to the person she's looking for.
Date: 20/02/2013
Related Logs: None
Beckett Sera 
Battalion HQ
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.
February 20, 2005

The day is in it's usual busy form. Right now, a few staff officers are moving in an out of the HQ, where the major finds himself. Currently up on the walls are two maps. one of Picon, and one of Aerilon, where as the main board table seems to have movements being mapped out. Likely an ops in light planning or, going over somethign given to them. As for the Major himself, he is seated at his desk, with a cigarette smoldering in his fingers, while eyes are focused solely on the papers before him.

The battalion headquarters are not an area which Sera is particularly familiar with. She is, after all, neither an officer nor a Marine, and thus has virtually no reason to be there. So it's rather odd to suddenly have an orange-clad deckhand present in the room, with a stack of files in her arms. One of these things is not like the others.

Orange sticks out more than a turd from a dog's ass. Still the work doesn't seem to stop instead Sera, for her troubles, recieves stares. But they don't last, instead Ensigns and a couple Lieutenants are back into running their figures and making new movements. However, one set of eyes seem to remain on the poor deckie, as the major lowers the report in front of him-taking time to take a drag off of his cigarette. With the smoke blown out for his nostrils there is one brow that hitches, as his lips curl

"Somethign I can help you with?" asks Beckett, in his soft, Aerilon drawl.

"Lieutenant Colonel Petra sent me to request a security detail of MPs for a project I'm working on, from a Major Beckett, sir," she says easily, without hesitation. If there's one thing that can be said about Sera, it's that she doesn't waste time or beat about the bush — at least not when it comes to work. "If you could please direct me to him?," the knuckledragger asks, raising the volume of her voice enough to be heard by several people. Just in case, y'know, Beckett's standing at her elbow or something.

There's a look back to one of the Ensigns who does indeed allow a slight chuckle. Beckett takes another drag, before he is motioning the knuckledragger over with a long look, and likely to blow smoke in her direction when she does come over. "Do you have the request in writing?" the Major asks, before he is looking back to Sera, curious there, before he is leaning back in his chair-causing the office issued thing to creak, lightly. "And what is this project that you need MP's other than what is posted in the Bay?"

Sera does, indeed, step closer. The smoke doesn't seem to bother her much. She's a smoker herself, after all. Sort of. Sometimes. But she's not making a face. And she's not coughing. "Petty Officer First Class Seraphina Rutlii," Sera says, crisply. And then, "Yes, sir, I do. As for what they're needed for, I believe that's a question that I ought to be having with Major Beckett." Both of her brows arch. Is it an impertinent reply? Maybe. Of course, if she's requestion a security detail, it's also entirely possible that she just doesn't consider it wise to broadcast why to everyone in the room and anyone who happens to ask.

"You're having it with him right now." The Major says flatly, before he is motioning to the small name plate in the left corner of the desk. And then he's looking up, one of the Ensigns is laughing now. "Mister Pathosapoli, take Mister Riker and get a break.." the bark in the voice certain that it stops the snickers. After a quick salute passed, the other two officers leave, leaving the Major with the Petty Officer, and the Duty Sergeant. "Don't mind the Sarge, he's required to be here incase shit gets rough and choppy either down or up. He's my ears." And so the major stubs out his cigarette. "Elaborate."

At least the woman has a sense of humor. She might be turning a dusky shade of pink, but she's also smiling at her own little trek into a pile of dog poo. "Well, then!," she mutters, before brightening. "That makes it easier." From among her pile of paperwork, she withdraws a hexaogonal folder and sets it onto the corner of his desk. "As you may know, the remains of the Centurions destroyed aboard the recently recovered tylium refinery were to be collected for a special project. The project is mine, and I'm attempting to reverse engineer them in order to provide updated intelligence to several departments on how our enemies have been upgraded over the last forty years. Because of the security risk they pose to the task force, the work is going to be conducted down on Piraeus, per the Lt. Colonel's orders. There's also some concern about the possibility of nosy personnel or civilians poking into what they shouldn't be. As such, both Lt. Colonel Petra and I felt that it might be best to have armed guards posted at the site, prepared to shoot things that are moving when they shouldn't be."
(New BB message (10/60) posted to 'IC - Orion (Scuttlebutt)' by Rumors: Playing Dress Up)

"In case the sucker comes back to life, is what you're telling me, right?" Beckett replies before he is giving a brief shrug thgere. "I don't see why you shouldn't have some fellas to keep the robots in perma sleep." the Major responds easily enough. "Mind you-I am likely to come and check on ym men and your progress. If you can figure out armor, especially-it might give us an edge on how to put them down quicker." Beckett says before he is rubbing his chin. "Maybe keep us from burning out ammo." Which would be great and easier on them. A shift in his seat before he is looking back towards Sera. "Beyond robots possibly coming to life, is there any other reason this is to be done on the ground? My CO will want to know why I okay'd it." And thus pulled from one of the MP companies.

"That was essentially the idea, yes. Being as I'd like to fully inventory and assess their external components prior to pulling them apart, one of the first things likely to result from the project is where the weakest points in their armor is. I've already discussed this with the Lt. Colonel." One hand reaches up, brushing Sera's bangs back out of her eyes, before she continues. Her mouth turns down into a faint frown when she adds, "As for why it was agreed that this should be conducted on the ground, we have no idea of what's been done to their computer and communications systems. It's entirely possible that if we turn them on and jack them into a computer for analysis of their programming and comm systems, that they could attempt to take over ours, send out a signal, etc. The site is to be isolated as a result and completely disconnected from all other eletrical systems. Power will be supplied by generator and any computer systems used in the process are going to be individual units which are not networked into the rest of our connections in any way. In fact, I'm likely going to recommend stripping them of their networking equipment entirely before going anywhere near their programming."

"I'd just say hook em up to a car battery.." Beckett replies before he is nodding. "Well, I don't like the prospect of them being able to maybe say something from the ground. But if they start transmitting, a couple of shots to their brain pain should be fine." A nod given before he is reaching over for a pen to write something down. There's a brief glance given up to her, before he is raising a brow. Licking his lips, the Major brings his hand up to rub over his chin. "Anything else, PO?"

"I assume that a guard will be posted round-the-clock, rather than simply during duty hours?," she asks, rocking back on her heels despite the weight of her workboots. "Given the recent talk about Cylons who look human, and the influx of survivors from various Colonies, I'd rather not risk having this sabotaged, when it could provide us with some of the most important information we could hope for."

"That can be arranged, and I will make sure that some of our boys on Piraeus are on it, so we don't have to transfer down. Though for the night shifts we might send a couple from Dog to stand in to give them a rest, as they have to heard civvies.." Beckette states with a brief nod. "I'll run it up the mast-when are you starting?" He says with a glance back towards the small PO. "And where, so I can brief my men?" Beckett, asks.

"We'll be opening up a site outside Sheridan proper, as soon as all of the materials are compiled. Technically, we started last week." Her brows wrinkle. She is, judging by that look, becoming agitated with the delays that paperwork and bureaucracy are causing. "The Centurions are still in storage. Under guard, from what I was told."
Petra pages: Yesm :)
Iphigenia pages: Mainly I do not want to roll up my pants legs, if you know what I mean. >.>

Beckett nods briefly there. 'Well once it is up, have the Colonel let me know and I will have everyone put back down." Beckette replies for a moment before he is looking back towards the paper at his desk. "If there's nothing else, consider your request, put in and acceptyed, baring some unforeseen circumstances."

"No, sir. That should be everything. Thank you," she says with an easy, albeit fleeting, smile offered up to the major. Easy-peasy, aside from her wonderful initial embarrassment.

Beckett nods and he's reaching for his pack of cigarettes. "Dismissed if you need it." he offers before he is going into the next report.

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