AWD #007: Paying Off The Locals
AWD #07: Paying Off The Locals
Summary: Catriona, nearly healed, tracks down Petra to try to find out where she can be useful on the ship.
Date: 13/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Catriona Petra 
Map Room - Battlestar Orion
Dominating the room is the large bottom-lit map table in the very center. Ten feet across and eight feet the other way, the table can gather a large number of people around it while still accommodating enlisted and support personnel in the small riser seating behind the table. The risers are done in single-piece desk sections that run the width of the seating area and have small reporting displays built into them along with communications ports for headphones. At the head of the room are two very large LED displays that can have almost anything put on them, including projections of what is on the map table. A single computer at the support seating controls this and in the rear of the room is a large, locked case that holds maps and table models.
Jan 12, 2005

Middle of the day, first watch just ended, but that just means Petra moved from CIC to his 'office': the map room. With a map pf the colonies laid out across the table and papers scattered over it with notes about what scattered little information the task force has on each, he's leaning on the table on both arms, staring down at it with a faint frown still etched across his face. At least for the moment, he has the room to himself, so anyone looking for him in CIC, the crew already knows to point people here as the most likely place to find him.

Limping now, without the use of crutches, Special Agent Catriona Boyd has returned to the Battlestar after a short foray planetside. Rumored to be asking questions again and trying to arrange a long, overdue audience with the superiors on the ship. Today, with the use of a few well-placed questions, she slips over to the map room and knocks the door a few sharp times to get his attention. Beaming over her best, most professional smile, she limps into the room with her hands wringing before her lightly from the light chill on the ship that can never be fully remediated.

"Major Petra? I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, do you have a moment?"

Petra glances up when the hatch opens and she knocks on it, his frown deepening when he sees the limp, "Boyd, what the hell did you do now?" Then the faintest tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth, "And its not Major anymore. Sit. Im just looking over what little information we have on things. What can I do for you?" He walks to the corner of the table, waiting for her to sit or pick a spot, folding his arms across his chest and leaning his hip against the table corner.

Tiny Timm'ing her way along, Cat hobbles over to the main table to stand on the side to his immediate right with a sheepish grin. "It's still a little sore so I'm nursing it. Doctor says I should be better tomorrow, but she wanted me to baby it for one more day." Directed to sit, she turns and lowers herself into a chair. "Thanks, Marcus. Is it okay if I call you Marcus?" She asks first, placing her hands on the table before her. "I'm just feeling really underutilized. Is there anything I can help with short of enlisting? I'm a bit of a fifth wheel right now and I'd like to help out with something. I'd hate to say it but this enforced leave you asked me to go on is about killing me."

Petra remains where he is for the moment as he watches her sit down, lowering his voice, "Well, your primary job is to get healed first. Recovery Ward is a maddening thing…believe me, I know from experience, I was there for over a month and I thought I was going to go stircrazy from not being able to DO anything. But beyond that…" He pauses for a moment and considers, then offers, "We're doing a lot of waiting right now. We have raptor flights going out to all of the colonies to see what state they are in, and then check the major Naval assets and places we think stray fleets might be hiding. Down on P, we're going to need to step up construction to make sure we have housing space for all of these refugees noone had planned on when drawing up plans for the outpost…and all the growing pains that is going to entail. Tell me what all it is that you feel you can do professionally?"

"Good, then you're kind of like me. If I don't have anything to work out I want to start pulling my hair out in clumps. When I was in school my mom had to force me to take sick days." She smiles to Marcus, brushing a hand up the side of her face to smooth back her hair and check her ponytail. Straightening her back, she folds her arms on the tabletop before her and leans over them slightly, turning her eyes to his. "Well, provided none of those refugees are attached to the Colonial Government, I suppose you're going to need someone to keep an eye on the locals? Or were you planning on stationing troops down there when and if refugees start pouring in? Marcus, I'm trained in law enforcement. Criminal Justice B.A., field work, investigations…that sort of stuff."

Petra sucks on a tooth for a moment while he listens, "Most likely we are, and we will. It doesn't matter how thoroughly an enemy purges its target, there are always survivors when the scale is large enough. They can glass an entire colony and we will find SOMEONE alive on it. We're counting on some of the Naval supply convoys having fled at the first sign of invasion and found an asteroid field or an Anchorage to find shelter in, so yes, I am holding out hope that we will have refugees. A lot of them. I WANT to be able to say we dont have housing for all of them and that we will need to build more housing space." Because this is all we have left of us, is the last bit he leaves unspoken for now, but it might be readable across his face.

"Lords can only hope, Marcus. I lit some incense down at the chapel the other day, and if we're lucky I'll be watching a steady stream of refugees like me coming in. I can help with the housing, if that's what you really need right now, Marcus. I did a little habitat building charity from time to time, so my hammer-swinging arm skills are up to date." Letting off a soft laugh to ward away the stress and pain of all of the recent losses, she leans back in her chair and levels her gaze once again towards him. "So you're that guy, Marcus? The planning guy?" She tsks and shakes her head. "Boy, I do not envy you one bit."

Petra mms softy, "I don't know if that's the best place to use you, but until we know more about all of…this…" he waves a hand back at the table, then refolds it across his chest, "A lot of things are up in the air. There might be a particular thing that could use an Agent's skillset, but I'll have to talk to my Intelligence Officer about that…Lieutenant Wake. There might be something he needs you for, but we'll need you at a hundred percent for that." He quiets for a moment at the planning comment and smiles a bit wryly, "The old man makes the major decisions, I just make the recommendations and then run the plan into the ground. Once we have all the busses back, then I'll sit back down with the Admiral and the Commander and he'll decide what the Task Force is going to do. But he's already restated, or duty is to protect the citizens of the Colonies, so if there are people we can rescue, we're going to be doing that, and scavenging every Naval asset we can on the way."

"You're talking about Lieutenant Wake and his investigation into Sergeant Cooper Knox and whether or not he's the one that warned the rest of you about the Cylon attack?" The words come out slowly, slyly, until Catriona can't help but tilt her head towards Marcus and wink at him. Peeling her hand from the top of the table, she taps her ear. I heard things. She lifts a slender shoulder and leans in towards him. "Wake confronted Knox in the Recovery Ward, they were a little loud about it. A couple more of the people in the Ward heard, but that's about the extent of what I know." She pauses, smiling a wicked smile towards him. "I'm serious, Marcus. Please. When time comes I'd really like to get put into the game."

Petra rumbles softly, very slightly shaking his head, "Its…gone well beyond that now. Lt. Wake needs to work on a little…discretion." He offers, "We're going to need to keep track of everyone in the Task Force, and how much time they've spent down on P. I need to talk to Wake about it first, but is that something you think you can come up with an effective way to manage? We'll be looking for people that don't go down to P…at all, or very little, other than myself, the Commander, and the Admiral."

"It's alright, Marcus. Well, it's not alright, but it was the Sergeant that was being much louder than Wake. Wake ended the conversation and I think they took it to a private room, which was the right call." Her nails, once manicured and now chipped and cracked, drum on the top of the table while she chews at her lip, considering his question. "That's…an awfully large list of people. Do you have any office staff that could data-entry the logs so that you can build a searchable database? Require all military staff on and off the vessel perform the necessary check-outs or else leave cannot be approved? Pick someone you trust to enter in all the data, it'll seem like office work and your original intention would be hidden, and then just run the numbers?"

Petra hrms and nods lightly, "We'll see. Obviously this is at the 'thought' stage right now and hasn't been planned all the way through. I'll speak to Wake and point him at you so that, even if we dont need you for that, he can start using you as a go to sort of person for his intelligence work. For now though…get that leg healed, Agent. We might be in a bad situation, but its not so desperate that we can't give our people time to heal from their injuries before sending them back out again. All right?"

"I'll cope. Now that I can hobble a little bit I might check out the fitness center and get to one of the treadmills, work out on the muscles. That'll give me something to do in the meantime. Hooray for physical therapy, right?" She teases and presses her hands into the table. Pushing herself to stand at her full height, she offers Marcus a hand for a friendly shake. "I really do appreciate you taking the time to speak with me about this, Marcus. We're all going to be busy, like it or not and oh…" She twists her head a little. "…are you suggesting that I not go back to Piraeus? I was nudged down that way because I'm a civilian, but I came back up to speak with you."

Petra straightens up to take the offered hand, grasping it firmly for a moment before releasing, "Thank you for touching base with me. Its going to be a little crazy around here for a while. As for P? No, no, go on. It will give me an excuse to get off the ship for a little while and come hunt you down once we have things figured out. Right?" He smiles again, just a little, and adds, "Might do me some good to get some air that hasn't been recirculated for months."

Catriona's lips part into a broad, flirtatious grin when she squeezes his hand. "It is nice, Marcus. Up here it kind of feels like living inside of the lint trap of a dryer. Down there it's cold, it's really cold, Marcus, but it's pretty nice. You should take a break once or twice before your brains start leaking out of your ears." She lets his hand go and takes a step away from him, turning to hobble for the door. "If you're looking to hunt me down while I'm down there, they've got me bunked at Hab-B. If I'm not there I'll be at Charlie's. Don't you let them work you too hard, alright?"

Petra chuckles softly at the commentary, lowering his voice as he calls after her, "I'll make sure to bring a coat and gloves and be prepared for a snowball fight this time around. Heal quickly, Boyd." He seems to let the conversation go at that, simply watching her limp her way out of the map room as he slowly gets lost in thought.

"A week of making snowballs and paying off the locals. Check. Thank you for the tip, Marcus." She beams one final glance back to him at the doorway. Pulling open the hatch, she slips back into the hall and disappears into the sea of coming-and-going soldiers.

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