| Saber Visit Fallout |
| Summary: | Amos summons Dreyer to discuss the recent mission to Picon |
| Date: | 17/08/2016 |
| Related Logs: | Roadtrip! |
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| Battalion HQ - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion |
| The headquarters room is the primary command location for all Marines associated with the battlestar or accompanying fleet ships. The walls and desks are covered with maps, photos, and satellite imagery - as well as clocks indicating the current time in each colonial capital city. Secure phones are bolted to each bulkhead, and for added insurance, each desk possesses its own encrypted wireless unit with its own independent wiring. The small room is always manned by a wireless operator and a duty sergeant, at a minimum, though it tends to be a hive of activity during duty hours. |
| AWD #422 |
The Private who delivered the memo had little else to say. Dreyer was in the firing range, brushing up with his sidearm. Of course, none of the issues he had during the contest are evident. All the better for future ops. The man is in his greens as he heads into the HQ. On duty, but not MP duty. Likely a day of gear-checks and PT-type activities. Maybe some of that first aid study. There's a quick query as to the Captain's whereabouts as the Sergeant angles for the coffee. Might as well get some caffeine in if he's about to face a dressing down.
Coffee. The beating heart of a battlestar. Sadly for Dreyer though, Amos' desk is between him and it, and the captain is alert enough to spot the subject of his summons. "Sergeant," he calls as Dreyer is spotted, "a moment if you please."
But… coffee. Dreyer looks, longingly, towards the coffee pot. Managing to withhold a sigh, he instead turns towards Amos' desk with a "Yes, sir." A few easy strides and he stops before the desk, falling into a parade rest. Another flicker of blue eyes towards the coffee, but then he's focusing on the officer.
"Sergeant," Amos starts as Dreyer comes to a halt in front of him, "I've just been reading an account from Lieutenant Wescott about your little trip to Picon a few days ago." He taps a folder in front of him almost absently. "In it she says some interesting things about your conduct. Would you care to give me your account?"
There's an arch of brow when the Picon trip is brought up. Dreyer's features flicker through a few expressions. Thoughtful. Uncertain. And even a hint of nerves. Did the pilot mention the selfies? Or his (perhaps ill-advised) flirting with an Ensign? Better to play dumb… right? None of that was particularly uncouth. Maybe for a Sergeant, but… The man clears his throat a bit. "I was requested to attend for marine oversight and due to my recent training in comms, as they were investigating a Saber site that had been assaulted nearly a year ago. We were able to retrieve two of the vehicles and a handful of missile trailers, as well. The main dish was rather severely damaged, but I was able to get it open enough to collect photos and some rough sketches of the schematics…" There's a pause as he looks thoughtful. "I handed those off. I assume they're with engineering now."
"I'm aware of the site in question Sergeant," Amos replies dryly, "I led the initial assault on it." As Dreyer continues he listens, leaning back into his chair as he does so. The expressions are noted although his own remains passive, right up until Dreyer finishes. "Very good Sergeant," he notes as he opens the folder in front of him and spins it so it can be read. "Unless you wish to contest it, that will be entered into your permanent record."
Sir,
I would like to request that a letter of commendation be placed in Sergeant Anton Dreyer's file for his work on the Saber SAM project. He was detailed to the flight in order to provide site security but went above and beyond. He personally got into a piece of hardware and was able to not just get photos but also draw some basic schematics for how the system's terminal guidance system operates. All he was required to do was show up with a rifle. Instead he's putting forth real effort to helping save the lives of pilots. If you could let him know that and place a small letter as such, I would be appreciative, sir.
Regards
LTJG K. Wescott
"Oh." Dreyer's at a bit of a loss for words. The man just sort of hovers there for a moment, looking a touch awkward. He does read the file, shifting his stance slightly. "No… No, sir, I have no, ah, need to contest it." Are his ears turning a bit red?
"Very good Sergeant," Amos replies as he closes the folder again and sets it off to one side, "do keep it up." He pauses for a moment, noting those ears, then puts Dreyer out of his misery. "That will be all, dismissed."
The Sergeant gives a nod, relaxing back on his heels and releasing the hands clasped behind his back. "Thank you, sir." Dreyer makes a quick turn and heads for the coffee pot. He'll need it after that. Plus, the scent was downright taunting him.