| Picon Invastion - Marine Meeting |
| Summary: | Commander Spree calls up the Orion Marines to brief them on their upcoming missions as pertains to the Picon Invasion. |
| Date: | 20/08/2013 (OOC Date) |
| Related Logs: | This log preceeds the following meeting later on Caprica: AWD #230: Caprica - Meeting Jankovic |
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| Ready Room, Deck 2 - Battlestar Orion |
| Capable of seating every member of the wing with space to spare in its stadium organization, the Ready Room has more than two hundred seats and is the largest room on the ship dedicated to single briefings. Sections of desks were manufactured specifically for this and wrap the width of each level of seating, rolling leather seats positioned at even points through each row. The walls have the tenant squadrons' patches painted on individual panels as well as a Kill Board up to the left side of the dais and podium, the Training Board on the other side to log progress. At the rear hatch, on a barren section of wall, is the framed and cased photo of 'Bad Dog' Ruegger. |
| August 20th, 2005 |
It's a meeting! Lleufer arrives without his wheel chair, walking on his own two feet. Man's in uniform and probably has a duty shift he's come directly from. He's using a cane and has his left arm in a sling. He doesn't notice the officer right off. A place is found and he takes a seat, sticking the cane where it'll be propped up and out of the way, unless he wants to use it to reach over and poke somebody with it. Lleu pulls his sling off and flexes his left arm carefully as he waits for others to arrive. Two of his fingers on that hand aren't much use yet, but he rubs his hand because it tingles.
This is pilot country and the Marines rarely ever come up here except for strike briefings where the map room doesn't seem very appropriate or they need the space the Ready Room provides. As people file in they'll note a few items and one officer in particular. The head of the room is dominated by two screens that are currently blank and the CAG's podium is off to the side. Sitting on a table at the rear is an older woman who looks to have skipped a few too many meals recently. She's hollowed-out a little and it only seems to have hardened her. Talking quietly with a Corporal, they seem to know each other well. They're both dressed in combat fatigues with sidearms and top to bottom these two look like they've abused the hell out of these uniforms.
Winston comes lumbering into the ready room, looking like warmed over death. He'd shaved for the Armilustrium award ceremony, so his face is only faintly shadowed with stubble, but he has dark circles under his eyes and a drawn look to his features. And booze. It's not fresh, thankfully. The big Taurean knows better than to show up to a briefing while drunk. While hung over, on the other hand, is another thing entirely. He digs the heel of his palm into his eyes as he makes his way in, glancing blearily up and around. "Ynyr. Good to see you on your feet," he says.
Briefings, a necessary evil, otherwise no one would know what is going on or what is to come next. So Erik shows up as it was scheduled, filing in rather quietly. As he moves to a seat in the back of the room where the Heavy Weapons Expert prefers to be, his eyes takes a look around to see who is already here.
A couple of weeks up from Piraeus and Private Mallas is still 'that new kid' in Dog One. He enters the Ready Room with all the enthusiasm of a student headed for another boring lecture. After a short pause to jealously admire the Air Wing's nice digs, Mallas finds a seat near the back and slouches down. Maybe he can catch a nap.
Arriving on time, Chase strolls in, boots make a soft thud on the floor as she moves towards the nearest available chair. She kicks out her feet after taking a seat, getting comfortable, crossing one ankle over the other. Only after nodding to the other Marines present does she pull out a pad and pen. Note taking time.
As the appointed second passes, she chucks the Corporal on the shoulder and steps out to the center - ignoring the podium. "Gentlemen!" she booms. "I am Commander Carolyn Spree. Some of you know very well who I am, some of you know of my only by reputation. Either way is fine by me. I am the commanding officer of all resistance operations on the Twelve Colonies and the ranking Colonial Marine to the Corps. I answer to Jameson and the Zeus, nobody else. I hope that's clear. Welcome to your Warning Order for the Invasion of Picon. All information in this briefing is Classified to those in the armed services." Hands clasp behind her back and her voice cuts across the room with her eyes. She's a native to Picon and her accent gives it away immediately.
"Thanks, Staff Sergeant. It's good to be out of that wheel chair." Lleufer eyes Winston and crooks one side of his mouth wryly, "Up a bit late celebrating last night?" It doesn't require a reply. A nod for Chase when she comes in, and a few of the others. Lleu's attention at once goes to the officer who he hadn't even realized was already in the room! She's got the Aerilon's full attention now.
Spree nods to the Corporal and he clicks a slide as the room darkens. Behind her, overlayed on the screens, are different views of Helios Alpha. Known basestars are denoted in in red highlights. "We're occupied. We all know this, I won't get into the gritty details. The Navy is going to be handling the basestars and Raiders. I won't lie to you folks, I've talked this over with Jameson and its going to get bloody when this happens. Do not think for a moment that because we are Marines that we are carrying the brunt of this load. A lot of people stand to give their lives in the gunfight that's going to take place at Helios Alpha. Its going to involve a massive multi-colony bombardment and assault that will effectively wipe out Cylon naval presence, temporarily, in the Alpha system. Its this time that the Navy will purchase in blood for the Colonial Marine Corps to get down onto Picon and beat some ass. We'll be bringing a landing ship, the Collins Peak, and setting her down with the entirety of her two expeditionary light armor battalions for clean-up. However, its going to be you all," she stabs the air towards the assembled Marines, "-that land and move in on the first wave."
"Corporal, next slide." It changes behind Spree and shows the local area to CFAB Crandall from a high altitude on one screen and focusing on a SAM site on another. "Over the last few months, with the air support provided and precision strikes made, my resistance fighters have been able to push the front line back to seat Crandall right at the forward edge of the battle area. For the last two weeks I've been maneuvering those boys and girls into an envelopment around this base and they will be providing perimeter security. Now.." She steps to the side, pacing slowly across the dais. "Charlie Company, Third Battalion, Eighth Marines, you all, will be tasked first with taking out a Saber site in the area. While the wing may be capable of this, we can't risk putting that many air assets into a single mission so we are risking your asses instead." Spree grins. "Those Marines who are airborne qualified will drop in on a LALO insertion and then hump your asses ten miles to this town, Rally Point Beagle, acquire transpo and get to this Saber and assault it. I'll leave the details on exactly how you want to do that to qualified on-site commanders and S3 personnel at the rear." She looks to a few of the Marines while she holds the pause. "This intel will be available once we finish. Now, once the mission is complete, extract will be made via Raptor. Air Wing assets will then clean up the remaining air defense sits in the area over the following days in preparation for the main event which will be the assault at Crandall. How this happens is being left to you all because once again, you'll be leading the way on this. The Collins Peak will touchdown on the main runway but it cannot sustain heavy fire while dropping troops as the Marines disembarking will be too vulnerable. That means you all will be going in first and clearing the way for the heavy hitters to deploy and mop up."
Mallas blinks and sits up straight. That skinny 'old lady' up front is Commander Spree? He's interested enough now to listen through the start of the briefing, but starts looking uneasy when he hears things like 'first wave' and 'risking your asses'.
Lleufer is grim and silent, paying absolute attention to every word. He studies what he might of the slides for now as a brief intro to what they'll be committing themselves to later.
"Service and Support." Spree changes gears, the bravado seeming to fade. "Whatever you guys need, let me know. If you all can't make it happen from your end out here, I want to know about it so I can give it my best shot. Its possible you all will have close air support available for both, but you can damned well count on orbital naval gunfire support on the Crandall operation. Remember, Devil Dogs: Even small rounds will make huge blast areas at Mach Thirteen. Now as far as signals go, you will be under my command for the operation at the Saber site. You can contact me direct at Site Anvil on the frequencies we'll provide. We've got a fairly secure net up and running for the moment. On the operation at Crandall, command will be retained with Orion Actual." She gives a very wolfish grin. "That's right folks, the Big O will be jumping in personally on Picon with a huge number of the fleet. Let that sink in on just how important this is and just how important your role will be. Hope you gents think pressure is delicious because you're gonna be eatin and shittin it for the next few weeks. BOHICA, Marines."
The Commander seems to be wrapping things up and she looks around to everyone. Hands come out from behind her back and she claps them together. "Alright. One last thing: I need a couple Marines who are willing to put their necks out on a potentially suicidal mission. These Marines need to be a good shot and reliable. Oh, and did I mention that this might be incredibly dangerous?" She quirks her brow. "I'll take volunteers now and select from them. Otherwise, I'll also now take questions on the briefed operations." She nods to the Corporal and the slides vanish.
As the briefing proceeds, Erik remains quiet and jots down notes, perhaps more than the next person as he doesn't want to miss anything. It'll be easier to review later when he looks over the notes and matches up to memory. Spree he knows of course, as he was originally from the Picon Marine group, and he is glad that they are finally going to be pushing to liberate his home.
That does get an eye flicker from Lleu to Winston that the Orion will jump in herself. He wets his lips and listens to the Commander speak of good shots. Lleufer's only an MP, not a rifleman or sniper, but he looks around to see who's game. He looks back to Spree, "How soon-ish, sir? I'm not cleared by medical yet."
After takkng a few notes, Chase hears her wrapping up and smirks, nodding to Spree. "I'm down. I've already proven I'm a damned good shot." Uncrossing her ankles, she sits up, waiting to see if anyone else will volunteer.
"The slated op that I'm taking volunteers for? That'll be in approximately one to two weeks. We've got a window we can work with on this one. If you can be cleared by then, and you want in, let me know." Spree looks to Chase and nods but doesn't say anything just yet.
Winston leans forward. "I'm in," he growls simply. "I'm one of the best rifles on Orion. Not to mention being pretty damn good with a spear, apparently."
Mallas leans over to the grunt next to him and grouses under his breath. "We're leading the assault, but we can volunteer for something extra dangerous? Frak me." He is one rifleman who is not rushing to volunteer.
Lleufer gives a nod to Titus, then looks back to Spree, "Yes, sir. If I'm cleared, count me in." His gaze goes to Chase to study her.
"If I am available, I'm definitely in, sir." Erik says as he wants very badly to kick some toaster ass and to help do what he can to liberate Picon. Sitting back and doing nothing, especially when volunteers are asked for, is not his specialty.
The Commander eyes the three of them, a grim line on her face. This is apparently serious business. "Alright. You four stay. If there's no further questions, you're all dismissed. Go with the Gods, Marines." She gives a final nod and motions for the doors. "You four, stand tall down front."
Winston heaves to his feet and steps forward, heavy boots thunking on the deck plates, as he goes and stands tall. He's a big fella, he's good at that.
Lleufer gets himself up carefully, mindful of his leg but leaves off the cane where he put it. He goes to stand with Winston, a bit slower to get there and his left leg still stiff. Lleu's not as tall nor as broad but he's no little fella either. Eyes forward, ears sharp.
Standing, Chase pockets her pen and paper and strides confidenty down front and center, standing at attention, snapping a salute. "Sir."
Mallas eyes the volunteers down front, then files out with the rest of the company, heading back to duty.
Mallas leaves, heading toward the Air Wing Corridors [Out].
Rising to his feet, Erik moves to the front as ordered by the Commander and does as is told, his posture mirroring the others right now. "Sir."
Spree looks to the crew and waves off Chase salute. "At ease, gents." Because everyone is gender neutral to male. She steps back off the dais and motions for them to follow her back over to the table where a small manilla folder is waiting. "Alright folks, here you are. I'm not going to frak around with getting caught up in rank and pomp. I run my command a little differently since we're all on the verge of death most of the time." There's some dark humor tinged to her voice. "So I want to hear your thoughts, opinions, and other items on this before I turn you loose. But keep in mind I don't think four is going to work for this. Two Marines, three on the outside. But I'll let you guys make the call since this op is going to be dangerous and the risk is falling on your shoulders." She opens the folder in front of her. "This is your target. He dies, one way or another. At this point if you feel you cannot go foreward, no hard feelings. I'll ask you to keep the details of this so far to yourself, though." She removes the photo and holds it up. Their target is the 'former' President of the Twelve Colonies, Richard Adar.
Chase drops the salute, watching Spree as she talks. Walking over with her, she doesn't back down when asked if she is certain. What she does do is wait for the other boot to drop. And there it is.. the assassination of the former. No reaction shows on her face other than a smirk, which is her usual expression anyway. "Count me in."
When the folder is opened and the target revealed to them, there is a brief moment of surprise on Erik's face as he recognizes who the man is, who wouldn't recognize him. However, the surprise soon fades as realization sinks in on why the man must be eliminated. If it has to be done, then it has to be done. The higher ups have deemed him an important target and eliminating him would bring them one step closer to victory, that is all he needs to know.
"I've heard … Cylons can take over a man's body. Or could replicate it." Lleufer's baritone is quite low as he studies the flimsy. He's tried to keep up with politics and the goings on elsewhere but now he'll need to brush up.
Spree nods a few times. "You heard correct," she tells Lleufer. "They've been able to implant something into a person, from their arm to their spine and brain. They're downloading Centurions into humans for a reason we don't know yet. The original person is still in there, but the Centurion owns the body. So far we've had zero luck getting the Centurion out. We call 'em 'Jacks'. And I know where you're going with this… We've got no way to confirm that the Cylons have done this to him. Or screwed with him. But he doesn't behave like one of them. Adar is behaving like himself which makes our intel shop folks believe that he's in on this for real." She looks to the others, then back. "Unless you're talking about the skinjobs. If I'm not mistaken you've got one serving with you to some risk to himself."
Lleufer glances to the others, then gives the Commander a nod, "Aye, Sergeant Knox. He's done a lot to help us out, sir." Which she probably well knows. Lleu shifts his jaw, never asked to go on a mission to assasinate anybody before. "So, any of this sketched out or we have the intel and plan it from scratch ourselves, Commander?" The Aerilon isn't as experienced in getting out and doing non MP things as the others here.
Erik is also looking forward to that answer as well as it looks like to get Adar, they would have to go deep into the hornet's nest. He's no assassin either, and something like this looks like it will require a solid sniper. But the sniper will need support, "I assume that we at least have some sort of workable schedule that Intel can provide us, on Adar that is. Sir."
"He planning any road trips in the near future? Any Raptor rides?" Chase inputs along with Eriks question and anything else she had missed. Glancing between Erik and Lleu, she mentally evaluates the team. Looked solid.
The Commander shakes her head. "I don't have the intel. You'll be getting your information first hand from Major Martin Jankovic, Naval Special Projects. He's our lead guy on Caprica and the leader of the only intact, trained military formation I'm aware of on the whole planet. I know that he wants marksmen and he said it'll be damned dangerous. My guess is that you'll be doing some distance shooting and then having to evade into a city." There's a glance to Chase, "Adar doesn't leave Cap City much at all, but all his speeches are broadcast live. This guy has most of Caprica believing that the war is over and that nobody is fighting. He's claiming that the broadcasts coming out of Picon and other places in Helios Alpha are just pirate propoganda. Says that if there was any evidence of a war on, he has not been shown any. Riiiight." She makes a 'jerk me off' motion. "Putting a bullet into him on colonial-wide broadcasts would make it pretty clear, I'm guessing." To Erik, she nods. "The Major will have that information. He says he can't send his own guys because all their faces are known to the skinnies and Centurions. Where-as you guys?" She grins.
Lleufer tries to keep a straight face. Really, he does try, but watching the Commander making that jerk off motion, it almost cracks him up. But nope, not going to do it. Keep still and quiet, though he does shift his bad arm to place that hand slightly behind his back, "Where as we can Jack 'n Jill right in. Lot of questions but seems we'd best see what we have to work with and speak with Major Jankovic for details then, sir. When do we meet with him, sir?"
Without more concrete information, no further planning could be made, at least not effectively in Erik's opinion, "We need to gather all the Intel that is available before we can create something that will give us not only a good chance of success but hopefully a chance to withdraw as well."
"We're unknown quantities.. I like flying below the radar." Chase contemplates the rest, listening to the others first before giving a concise nod, an amused smirk with the jack off motion. "Live televised appearance would be incredibly attention getting. Wish we could put on a recording that would play afterwards…"
Spree doesn't even crack a smile at the motion or seeing Lleufer's reaction. She's a Marine and has probably been a Marine for upwards of 20-25 years. Hang with the guys or GTFO. She nods to Erik first. "Yep. The Major will have it. The information he's got, I believe, is credible. However we can't discuss it over radio because its too prone to intercept. We've gotta worry about that so its been a lot of coded talk. As for when…" Back to Lleufer, "We can get you out there probably this weekend if you can get cleared by medical. But you all also need to decide who is going and who is not. If all four of you want to go and then decide once you see the intel, that's up to you." The mention of getting a copy of the broadcast gets a chuckle. "Gotta remember, radio waves take time to propogate and travel a distance. As the broadcast is sent out, it'll be hitting different locations at different times. Picon won't see the broadcast until about seven hours after it leaves Caprica. You guys could jump in a Raptor afterwards and then head on over to Picon and watch it live from my command post if you can get to a Raptor." She shrugs, almost smirking at the idea.