AWD #349: Paid the Price
Paid the Price
Summary: CPT Bennett gives her report on Ragnar… and Galactica.
Date: 05/06/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: They Came Back to Warn Us, Discovering the Galactica
Bennett Epiphany 
CAG's Office
This nine by nine space is largely dominated by filing cabinets and a desk. A coffee maker is perched atop one cabinet, but the others are rather barren of decor or personal items. There are a pair of uncomfortable, molded plastic chairs facing the desk. The last vestige of open space is occupied by a lounge chair. It's one of those old, well-loved beasts that was likely pulled off of somewhere on Piraeus.
Wed Dec 21 2005 (AWD #349)

Bennett's visit is not entirely unexpected, one would think, after the events of the previous evening. Undoubtedly she would have been here sooner if she hadn't had to make a detour to sickbay for some oxygen therapy. "Sir," accompanies a rap at the door as the soft-spoken captain makes her presence known. No sense sneaking up on the CAG and making her choke on her coffee.

"Enter." It comes even without a glance up. Not right away, at least. Epiphany is unwrapping the sandwich and once done, she looks to the hatch. "Captain," she says, gesturing to one of the chairs facing the desk. "I was told you had suffered some oxygen deprivation. Have you been cleared back to duty, then?"

Bennett hesitates just a moment on the threshold, like she's considering simply dropping off what she has and making a run for it. "Yes, sir," she answers after a beat, and nudges the hatch shut before crossing to a chair. "It was a precautionary measure, more than anything else. I am fine." Pale blue eyes drift to the sandwich. "I am sorry if I'm interrupting your dinner. I can come back?"

There's an arch of brow, but the CAG shakes her head. "I missed the meal service. This is fine." Caught up in reports, likely. The woman picks up half the sandwich, settling in to eat while she watches the Raptor pilot across from her. After washing down a mouthful with a long sip of coffee, Epiphany sets down the sandwich and reaches for the chips. The packaging crinkles as she opens it. Someday, they'll run out of the damn things… And it will be a shame. "Bran and Wescott gave an initial report on your behalf last night. I've already tasked them with going through that log book to piece together what happened up until the record cuts off six months ago."

Bennett, unlike the CAG, is in her flight suit. It seems she rarely bothers to change out of it these days; such is the life of an active duty pilot. Her hair is scraped back into a haphazard bun that's soon to be a fine example of helmet head. "Yes, I hoped that they would. This is, as I am sure you agree, a rather.. stunning find. Do you happen to know if medical was able to revive the officer we brought back? I.. should have cut the recon short sooner and come home. I hope that my mistake has not cost him his life."

"It sounds like the ship herself is a loss. The damage reported… We would need a dry dock to repair her. I am curious to see what we can learn and I'm glad the Anchorage was not a trap or devoid of supplies." Epiphany eats a few chips, shrugging initially until she can speak again. "I do not know. I'm leaving that report in the CMO's hands. As for the recon…" She tilts her head back and forth. "We'll let medical decide. In some cases, no amount of time would save a life. The intel is important, too."

Bennett nods her agreement, so far as the ship is concerned. "It appears the trap was already set." And Galactica paid the price. "We would have enough armaments to distribute across the fleet and last for months longer than we could have otherwise." She seems to remember, belatedly, the report itself and leans over to slide it atop Epiphany's desk. "Not to mention vipers and especially raptors, parts for which we are in sore need of. There was something else, too.." She flips open the folder in which the report rests, and slides out a few sheets of transparent paper, filled with what looks like astronomical charting data. There isn't much to be gleaned from it at a glance.

The report is picked up and only skimmed initially. She'll go more into depth on it after they've talked and she's eaten. The transparencies, in turn, are looked over. One rotated to be more 'right,' at least in her ken. Astrophysics helps a bit, sometimes. But no, nothing especial at first glance. Epiphany tilts her head in a nod. "I'll be recommending to Command that we get a cargo hauler out there soon to start loading with supplies. I believe we'll be picking up that object soon, as well. Perhaps get both in the same trip." She glances to the report again and frowns. "There was a One? That might lend credence to a trap having been set there. I'm glad it didn't lose us the entire anchorage."

Bennett's left-handed scrawl is going to take some time for poor Epiphany to pore through, as it is. Report writing is not her forte. Though she watches the woman turn the chart just so, and a brow arches ever so slightly. "Hmm? Oh. Yes. Yes, we'll definitely need to send a cargo ship out.. I was not aware we were planning on bringing back the.." Coffin? She trails off there, uncertain how to refer to the object. Undoubtedly, someone up in Tactical will assign it a number.

"I'm not certain if we will, but better to at least… move it rather than leave it if it's a trap, mm?" There's a bit of a trained eye over those charts, but they'd need their reference points found first. Epiphany leans back in her desk chair a bit, nodding. "I'll pass this along to Command. Let them make the next call. But I'm damn glad the place wasn't empty. Not having to stress about munitions will make a lot of people in the fleet happier."

"Perhaps," Bennett is willing to permit, though something clearly bothers her about the thing. Something she apparently isn't going to bother the CAG with, however, while she's trying to eat her dinner. And although she seems reluctant to part with those charts, it's clear the viper stick has a far better chance of making heads or tails of them than she. "I'll see if I can track down Wescott and Bran, and see if they have made any progress with those log books. Perhaps it would be prudent to bring in someone from Tactical to help?" You know, the nerds upstairs.

"I was already intending to let Tactical know of the log book." Epiphany isn't going to press. Maybe because she doesn't have the time. Maybe she doesn't notice. Maybe she's distracted by star charts. "But if you want to run it by them, go ahead. They'll want to know of whatever we find, whether they assist or not." She finally sets the chart she was squinting at down. She'll need to borrow some time on the map table, likely.

Having done what she came here to do, and not well enough in the CAG's good graces to dawdle much beyond that, St. Clair clambers back to her feet. "If you will excuse me then, sir, I have a patrol to make." She's already sliding out a small silver tin from a pocket of her flight suit as she heads for the hatch, jonesing as she is for a pre-flight smoke. She doesn't actually hightail it, of course, until given leave to do so.

There's a tilt of head in a nod from the Major. "Of course, Captain. Thank you for bringing this to me." Epiphany looks down to the report again, pulling it near to begin reading as she returns to her meal.

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