AWD #328: Noon Delivery
Noon Delivery
Summary: Dreyer and Randy inform Fairfax of the new occupant in the brig.
Date: 15/05/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: A Twelve Appears
Dreyer Fairfax Randy 
Brig
The battlestar's brig is comprised of a line of four individual cells organized in separate walled-off bays. Each cell is six feet wide by eight feet long and possesses a bed and toilet. Whenever even one cell is occupied, so too is the metal desk and chair at the entrance hatch — and backup for the guard is never far away. Brig rules are posted behind the desk on a white panel with blocked black lettering.
Wed Nov 30 2005 (AWD #328)

A trip that was slated to run an approximate fourty-eight hour window has actually returned quite a bit sooner. With an additional passenger. The man brought in is out cold and a certain marine engineer has a pouch with more needles of sedative on her. It's Dreyer, with the aid of another MP, that hauls the man into the brig and lays him out in one of the cells. During the process of moving the prisoner from Hangar to the Brig, someone was sent off to fetch the XO. It's with a closed cell door behind him that Anton works on the initial paperwork. He's still fully geared up; rifle on a sling, armored vest, and various pouches of supplies. Whatever this is, it's being handled swiftly. No delays or lazing about involved.

The engineer is happy to relieve herself of toting the new model around the ship to someone whose stature is much more suited to the job. Besides, it allows her to keep a needle at the ready, which she still has now. If that thing moved so much as a muscle, she'd jam it in the throat and hammer the plunger down with the heel of her palm. She also is fully geared up, pack on her back and rifle slinged across her vest.

Fairfax arrives at the double, actually a little ahead of the person that was sent to fetch him. Apparently the XO can still move fairly fast when he wants to, for all that he lives behind a desk now. "What have we got here, Marines?" His voice has some happiness to it, as though he's thrilled to be actually involved in something. Ah, to be active again.

There, upon a cot in the cell, lies a man. Brown hair in a military-reg cut, pale complexion, tall, and solidly built (http://1.fwcdn.pl/ph/86/58/648658/370758.1.jpg). He's wearing a blue crew shirt. Dreyer looks up from the clipboard as he hears footsteps approaching. The final few lines of the signoff are completed and handed to the Lance Corporal currently sitting duty at the desk. "Sir," Anton notes, coming to attention. "We just returned from an assignment with Major Gray to the Pulse High to investigate a possible traitor. They told us of a prisoner aboard."

"Skinjob, sir," Anton continues. "Model we haven't seen before. He gave us his designation as Twelve and claimed… well, he said he wanted a discussion and something about forming a conclusion for his line. He insists he was here on his own behalf, not that of the others." He looks over his shoulder towards the cell. "He was transferred to the Pulse High from the Linten. As a Lieutenant. Intel has his tags, but they read M. Charles."

"A twelve." Fairfax considers this for a moment. "A brand new model, yes." He moves over to the cell, to peer into it. "Fascinating. Here of his own accord. To form a conclusion for his line." A thoughtful pause. "Nobody is to talk to him without my express permission. Even the sentries should conduct their duties in as much silence as possible."

Randy nods to Fairfax as he arrives. "We also have some lovely horse tranqs to keep him down if we want to." They were meant for transport, but no one said not to hang on to them. She lets Dreyer take over the report as she glances sideways to the Twelve. She doesn't trust any human's ability to counteract a cylon, guns or no.

"I'm sure medical will be made aware," Dreyer notes, absently, with a glance towards Randy as she mentions the tranquilizers. For Fairfax's words, he gives a nod. "I'm sure intel will be down as soon as he wakes to talk to him. But it was requested to alert you to him and his designation. Intel is already working on having photos distributed so that all in the Task Force are aware." He looks over to the cell, shifts back on his heels. "If you'd like, sir, I'll make sure the orders get passed to the rest of the unit." The MPs that will surely be pulling shifts sitting at that desk.

There is a pause, before he looks back. "Sir, as a suggestion. Before he was put out, he spoke of how easily it would have been for him to escape the holding they had him in on the Pulse High. I didn't get a chance to see where they held him, but just in case… I advise two armed guards on duty at all time."

"Two armed guards. I think that's an excellent idea. And yes, please pass that information along." Fairfax pauses for a moment, and then. "We'll keep him tranqued, too, except when Intel or the like wants him. If anyone has a problem with that, they can come see me."

Randy nods in agreement with Dreyer's recommendation, even if he's the expert in things of MP nature anyways. "I'll swing by medical to let them know what tranqs we've been using,"

A quick, curt nod from the MP. Dreyer looks to the Lance Corporal on duty, brow arched. The younger soul, likely a relatively newer enlistee from Crandall, jumps up and goes to retrieve their backup and both get their weapons. As Randy speaks up, there's a quick smile. "Thanks." Then back to Fairfax, "I'll make sure word gets around, sir. Is that all?"

Randy nods in agreement with Dreyer's recommendation, even if he's the expert in things of MP nature anyways. "I'll swing by medical to let them know what tranqs we've been using," which should also somewhat close the loop with them in case of cracks in handoff. "We should probably have someone from medical. Prolonged tranqs and all, but I'll let them make that call," since the docs and nurses don't grow on trees.

"I'll loop back to you on any developments," Randy offers to Fairfax.

"That's everything for now, yes, Sergeants." Fairfax nods. "It's up to medical if they want to get involved or not, but it's happening regardless. I know it's an unusual move but if he was boasting about how easy it would be to break out…" A shake of his head. "I'd appreciate that, Sergeant." He murmurs in response to Randy's offer.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License