AWD #338: Performance Evaluations
Performance Evaluations
Summary: Petra checks in to see how his CAG is settling in.
Date: 25/05/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None.
Epiphany Petra 
Map Room
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.
Sat Dec 10 2005 (AWD #338)

Petra just finished commandeering CIC to make his little sitrep and has retreated back to the map room with his coffee and paperwork. After all, that was far too much attention-on-me time for the week. Time to go back to hiding here and playing with his maps and paperwork, right? Cept for the invitation he just sent to two of the department heads. So by the time someone shows up, he's already pulled a chair up and is leaning on one elbow while he looks over one of the last reports from Deck concerning the Dead Thing they've hauled in, a furrow creeping across his brow while he reads.

And that sitrep came while Epiphany was in the corridor. She had time now. Just before a trip to the Mess for a meal, perhaps. So the woman steps through the hatch with the upper button of her duty jacket undone. 'Off duty' the attire states. Though a Department Head is never off duty, are they? Always things to take care of. She's frowning, somewhat, in the wake of everything. "Colonel," the woman posits as she steps in through the hatch, tapping clipboard against her thigh. "Next time you tell the ship of happy news, I'd suggest not ending on informing us of two crews turning nukes on one another."

Petra glances up at the sound of the hatch opening, sitting up a bit when he sees who it is, and takes in a slow breath. He offers the faintest of smiles at her suggestion, and gestures to a chair he's conveniently placed very near to in front of him, "To be honest, I thought about how to order everything I needed to cover, and saying, well, anything after asking for a moment of silence just came off as disrespectful. So despite ending on a downer, there it is. Please have a seat, Captain. I'd like to chat for a moment. I won't take up much of your time, I promise."

"Shame you can't hire a speech writer." Epiphany just gives a small shake of her head, moving towards the chair. It's adjusted slightly with the toe of her boot before she sinks into it. The clipboard is dropped down — light enough — on the map table's surface. "I hope this isn't more bombshells like the debriefing the other day. I'm still processing all of that, I'm afraid."

Petra chuckles softly, "Tactical Officers aren't usually the ones making public Addresses unless its something along the lines of 'hold on to your asses, we're going Con 1'" he pauses there to genuinely smile for a moment, then rub both hands over his head, as if running fingers through non-existent hair, then finally focuses his gaze on her face, "Well, we'll see about any further bombshells. So tell me, Captain. How are you liking the CAG seat so far?"

"Well, good to know even the good ol' Colonel is as uncomfortable as the rest of us, doing things he never thought he'd have to do." There's good spirit to it. Epiphany's hand rests on the clipboard, a closed file the top layer. She drums fingers lightly, but there's an upward twitch of eyebrow at the query. She takes a breath and starts to answer… but stalls herself. Brows furrow a measure as she considers the question and finally, there's a bit of a shrug with the answer. "Well enough, I suppose. I can't say I'm thrilled, if I'm being honest. It's not a role I ever saw myself in, but not many of us can hold onto our pre-war retirement plans, can we?"

Petra mphs in amusement, "Oh, stop with that 'old' crap. I hadn't even started getting grey hairs yet. War did that to me." He falls quiet to listen to her answer, sucking quietly on a tooth while he links his hands together over his chest and leaves his attention on her. At the last question, there's a faint hint of a smile and he offers, "Well, I had planned on making a career out of this anyway since I couldn't make the cut for Triad. Interesting enough that, if I had gotten everything I wanted as a student, I'd have been dead by now, but then we've already seen that fates work in strange ways." He pauses as if to digest, then offers, "I had a conversation with the Admiral about you and how things are going…and before that makes your stomach churn, we talk about ALL of my Department Heads from time to time. After all, he's Fleet HQ, and we all get performance evaluations."

"Well, you're a lucky man. I began going grey in places in my late twenties. But I hear teaching at the Academy will do that." Epiphany crosses one leg over the other as he mentions the Admiral. A way to hide the edge of nerves. "You can say that all you want, sir, but no one likes the idea of performance reviews. In times of peace or war. So how badly am I doing that we need to have a chat about it?"

Petra chuckles again, just softly under his breath, "Oh, that's not the case at all, Captain. Actually, I wanted to check with you to make sure you weren't hating the job. I can see that's not the case here, so the Admiral and I are both in agreement that we can't have a Captain in charge of our entire Air Wing. Seems like we're not respecting the position or the effort you're having to corral. As far as we're concerned, we're happy you aren't going to burn out on us, and you've been doing an outstanding job." With that said, he leans to the side to take a small item out of his vest pocket and gives it a light toss, aiming for her lap, "Congratulations, Major."

There is actual, honest relief on the woman's features. Hey, at least she's not so far gone as to not care about her own performance. War or no, few other choices or no, it's obvious Epiphany still has a desire to improve herself. Or at least not piss any of her superiors off too greatly. The speech he goes into? Well, it's one she's given before. Kind of. In its own permutation. There's a certain cadence to it. So she's not wholly surprised when the box is tossed her way. It means she's able to catch it and keep it from falling to the floor at least. Fingers close around it and she's quiet a moment. What do you do in these cases, again? When it's a merit promotion and not just part of whatever your last five-year-plan was?

Ah, right. Sit up a bit straighter. "Thank you, sir."

Petra nods slightly, once, as if that settled the matter, "As for the rest, keep on top of it. We're clearly going to have our hands full for a long while. Also, if you and Fairfax can schedule a time for us to send a group to Ragnar, we need to go ahead with that as soon as we can manage the cross-group team, since we're already working on the quarantine ship." Again, he pauses, and tilts his head slightly, "Any questions at the moment?"

"Of course, sir. I'll talk to Fairfax soon about getting a team together. I've already been considering who would be our best options, since we need pilots with some ground experience. Just in case." No point having a pilot who panics with their boots on the ground into Ragnar. Epiphany shakes her head, leaving the box balanced in her lap as she lifts her hand to scratch behind her ear. "No, sir. No questions yet. I will be taking a Raptor down soon to check out those ruins for myself, however. I'll make sure to keep within the good doctor's boundaries for dig sites, of course."

Petra nods slowly again in acceptance of that, "Alright then. In that case, I won't keep you any longer, Major. As always, let me know if you run into difficulty you can't resolve, or something interesting you think we need to know about. Dismissed, and congratulations again." Here, he finally slowly rises to his feet, and rather than saluting, offers her a hand.

The box is tucked into a pocket for now. Epiphany won't fuss with the pips just yet. Not here. Maybe she'll even find someone to put them on for her. If she's brave enough for that. The woman seems almost lost when the hand is offered, but finally accepts it. "Appreciated, sir. I'll see about having a team ready to go for Ragnar in the next couple of days, depending on how the latest actions over Aerilon turn out."

Petra lowers his voice at the last comment, "I'll look forward to the reports. I think I know what we are going to find at Ragnar…which is, a lot of nothing, but it IS almost Saturnalia. Maybe we are getting a break this time. We'll see." With that, he waits for a moment, before retaking his seat and eyeing his coffee, "Maybe I drink too much of this lately…nah."

There's a pause as Epiphany aims to depart, glancing towards that mug herself. There's a smirk, "No such thing as too much, sir." And then she's heading out. Time to pick some unlucky saps.

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