AWD #209: Seven Days
Seven Days
Summary: Atalanta and Iphigenia approach Jameson about what to do concerning Pertwii.
Date: 03/08/2013
Related Logs: Right after Old Friends
Atalanta Iphigenia Jameson 
CO State Room
The largest solitary berthing on the ship, the quarters of the ship's Admiral is warm and plush in ways that the rest of the ship is not. Just inside the door is a large wooden table with seating for eight, the walls that flank it holding plexiglass display cases. The interior of the cases are filled with lovingly and carefully built models of Colonial fleet ships as well as classic Cylon examples from their own fleet and air defenses. Farther in it opens up with a small personal bar used as a room divider. On one side is a large, plush leather couch that is built into the curve of the wall, books lining the shelf behind it and a few stacked on the table in front of it. Most of the books seem to be geared towards the 'old west' genres of cowboys in rough situations. On the other side of the room is access to a personal bathroom as well as the desk, the latter being stacked with several reports and folders stamped 'Classified'. There is a model of a Predator sitting on the desk and a heavily worn and faded brown stetson is hung on the wall beside it. The bed, easily large enough for two, is built into the wall behind the desk with a blanket that very obviously is not fleet issue — thick felt running the length of it.
AWD #209

The Admiral just calls for the visitors to enter. He's parked at his desk wearing, of all things, a flight suit and tank tops. The guy looks like any other pilot except, well, he's old. At 63 he's heading towards retirement. Or should be. The war has likely changed that alternative. He's reading a memo about something, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk with a relaxed air about him.

Iphigenia gives Atia the right of way on this, at least for the moment. She does however, have a grimly determined air as she murmurs a brief, "Sir." in greeting.

"Admiral," Franklin says, carefully stepping over the lip of the hatch before closing it behind them. She cocks a single brow at the flightsuit, but says absolutely nothing whatsoever about it. "Thank you for seeing us." A pause. "I was hoping to discuss your policy on…. children." Ohh, dear.

The Admiral looks to Iphigenia and notes the expression. That seems to surprise him a little. The man lets the paper float down to his desk and then turns his attention to Atia. "Looking to start a passel, Mister Franklin?" he asks. Its meant as something of a joke, but the seriousness of the women in his quarters is not easy to miss. An upturned palm gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Pop a squat. Tell me what's on your mind, guys."

Iphigenia actually smiles a little, and takes a seat as indicated. "We'd actually like to broach the topic in the context of the woman brought back from the Persephone." she offers. She assumes he's aware of the woman's condition.

One slender hand reaches for a chair, pulling it out with a soft scrape of metal against metal. "No, sir. Given the fact that I'm not yet married, I think it may be a bit late for me to start. Even if that weren't the case, as fond as I may be of Captain Arden, I'm afraid she doesn't have the requisite parts," the Major replies, a touch dryly. So she does have something of a sense of humor after all. "As the Captain said, I was referring more particularly to how the standing policy on discharging any soon-to-be parents has effected Ensign Pertwii. Having this child was not her choice, in any way. Forcing her to keep it, to raise it, is effectively imprisoning her for the rest of her life, for having the misfortune to have been Aldridge's victim."

"Ah, yeah," Jameson nods. "One of the three that's pregnant. I'd heard that two are fairly hopeful about it but the third isn't handling it so well. I assume you're referring to the third. A former Ensign, if I recall correctly." But Atia brings his focus around to her and listens. Tread carefully, Lou. He drums his fingers on the desk twice as he thinks, staring at the Major. "Yeah, I have her discharge paperwork sitting here in my inbox waiting for my signature. Was planning to finish that off tonight." He drumbs his fingers once more. "Well she can't stay on the line. By all rights, she should have been taken off the duty roster months ago. The fact that she's still not discharged is actually a problem. Even if she doesn't keep the child, who is going to raise it? We've got a huge number of orphans from Picon already, Major."

"And those orphans are being cared for, Admiral." Iphigenia points out. "We're not dealing with an officer who made a foolish decision and now has to pay for the consequences. We're talking about a person who was violated, forced to have sex against her will, and is now being forced to give up her career because of someone else's violence toward her. Is it our policy to punish victims now?"

"By all rights, sir, she also should have been given the choice of having this child or not. It's a right guaranteed to her under Colonial law — a right she was stripped of by a senior member of this Fleet who, quite frankly, was only left to run that hall of horrors due to the incompetence of one of my predecessors." Franklin's mouth presses into a thin line; there's anger in her eyes, but it should come as no surprise. She's made no secret of her feelings about Shepard and the consequences of his incomptence. "Her situation is one that the officers of this ship have had a hand in, and we have an obligation to do all that we can to correct it. Whether she's discharged or not, she's a citizen of the Colonies, and we've sworn an oath to protect her. In this case, we've failed — miserably." Her legs cross primly at the ankle, and that makes 'between her knees' an awfully convenient place to stuff her hands to keep from balling them up. "As I understand it, Commander Spree has been evacuating pregnant women and mothers of young children from Picon since War Day. There's several nursing women on Piraeus; I'm sure one of them would be willing to take the child, to ensure it's safety and well-being. Given the Ensign's current state of mind, I honestly cannot say she'd be able to do so herself, if the policy stands."

Jameson looks to Iphigenia with a steady gaze. "Careful, Sister. I appreciate candor but questions such as that, I do not." He keeps it there for a moment before continuing. "If she was a victim of rape then she will need to file it with the Marines. That's military policy. After that we can have someone look at the paperwork which will take time. I cannot and will not alter judicial and investigative policy without extensive discussion with both Marine Command, the Master at Arms, and the JAG Corps." Looking back to Atia, "Shepherd's inaction has been a point of pressure with a lot of people lately. I believe the JAG Corps is considering pursuing charges against him. The failures, however, are something we can only deal with so much-of. Eventually, if you take the logic far enough, we could eventually blame him for everything. We cannot do that, though. In this particular instance I'm not inclined to see everything dropped at his feet until legal proceedings have gone farther." He lifts a finger, "Having said that, I'm curious about the Ensign's state of mind." He's not shutting anything down.

"There has been some…question as to whether she may have received medical advice outside the scope of the practicioner's specialty, but I don't have proof." Iphigenia remarks. "But I'd like to offer her counsel in both my capacity as a therapist and chaplain, and see what she has to say, find out what she wants to do."

"She may refuse to. Some women do. She's already told me she can barely stand all the stares she's received, the women touching her, telling her how terribly lucky she is to be carrying that monster's child. I can't imagine she'd be particularly inclined to endure even more people touching her, prodding at her, prying into painful memories." Her jaw sets, twitches once, before Franklin says plainly, "But I don't see why that should prevent her from finding someone to care for the child and remain on the line. If that's unacceptable according to the aforementioned policy, then I'll need to pull Major Holtz and Ensign Wescott off the line, too. Both of them have children in the care of someone else."

Jameson frowns. "I'm afraid I don't even know what that means. In a depleted state of Doctors as humanity is, there's going to be a lot of that, Sister. Spree has an orthodontist as her head surgeon at Anvil. As far as seeing this Ensign, I'll leave that to your discretion. I'm not going to pretend I know how best to handle someone in her state in regards to your position." Looking back to Atia, the Admiral shakes his head. "Current policy states that as long as there is someone designated by the parent as a primary care individual, they sign paperwork saying as much, and there is legal authority granted to this individual to take charge of medical care? Then children are allowed for military personnel without them being resigned from duty. As for the Ensign's willingness to deal with filing a report? There's nothing I can do. That's Naval policy and is outlined in the UCMJ and no investigation is going to be able to begun without it. I somewhat doubt the process was drafted without the input of women or victims, either. So there isn't much I can do there."

Iphigenia holds up her hands. "Why don't we start with the first step? Let me talk to her. Let's find out what she wants to do, make sure she understands what her options are. We can go from there."

"If she wants to give the child up for adoption, and if she can find a willing mother, then there's no need to remove her from the line, either, as far as I can see." Franklin leans back in her seat, lips pursing together into a pensive moue. "It isn't as though there's an abundance of officers bulging through the doors of the CIC and if Lieutenant Colonel Petra is carrying through on my recommendation in regards to the ghost fleet at Hebe, there are two cruisers there that are going to need a crew. There's an overabundance of them on the Rubaul, of course, but mainly pilots and deckhands. You'll need to pull command officers for both ships from somewhere, sir. Why not Pertwii?"

Jameson shrugs. "Sister, you're a licensed counselor. You can pursue that to your own end. I certainly won't dictate who should and should not be counseled unless there's a serious problem." He then looks over towards Atia and shakes his head. "We've got a lot of people volunteering with the war effort. Stocking the cruisers shouldn't prove too much of a problem, the issue you're looking to argue is more than she has professional training in regards to what fleet policy is. But it doesn't change her current state. She's declared no such intent in writing to give up the child. We cannot allow children to be on these ships for any longer than very short visits. I am assuming she intends to sever from the Navy until JAG or someone else hears otherwise. As it stands, someone in there is trying to push the paperwork through to get this processed as she's apparently quite far along. People are concerned with having her aboard the ship because of the potential for injuries to her, a possible jump into combat, or anything else. So unless I see a reason why she shouldn't be resigned, I'm going to follow policy. That's just the way it has to be. It either applies or it does not. A lot of people have made their choices, some of them incredibly hard and painful, I am sure, on this policy. To start bringing around exceptions would likely enrage quite a few."

"Sir. Allow us the time to determine her intentions. If she declares her intent to file criminal charges and arranges for an adoption - which I can also assist her with - then we can take a look at policy and determine the best course then. If she decides to keep the child she'll understand the conditions of doing so." Iphigenia laces her hands together. "Can you give us that time?"

Franklin's frowning, rather severely. It is not an expression which suits her face well, at all. "By my best estimates, I'd say she's seven months in. I can't be entirely sure. I've got no medical training, but I do have six sisters, all of whom are mothers at least twice over. Which gives her two months until she delivers — two months, and she's already off the ship to begin with. That means she's in no danger now and in no one's way, either. Why such urgency in discharging her? It isn't as though maintaining her on the roster is costing us anything."

Jameson looks towards Iphigenia and grunts. "I suppose," he allows after a moment. The man looks over to his inbox and begins fingering through it. "I'll give you seven days. However I am signing the order for separation the morning of the tenth when I wake up." He finds the piece of paper and shows it to them. "Seven days. If everything is as you claim, seven days should be plenty of time to resolve the issue." He opens the drawer to his desk and places it on top, then closing it. "If JAG asks, I'll claim ignorance but I am delaying a legal proceeding, gentlemen. I do hope that you both appreciate what I am doing." Looking back to Franklin, "If she's been off the ship entirely then its not as big of an issue. But forcibly bunking military personnel in civilian quarters actually violates the Articles of Colonization and that has been personally reminded to me by one particular constitutional lawyer who I would rather punch in the face than see again. Other than that, the urgency is not mine. Its a process already begun. It functions at the speed of paperwork and JAG is full of legal beagles with experience in shuffling paper."

Iphigenia puts a hand on Atia's sleeve as if to keep her reigned in, or offer support, or something. "We'll take it." she says without any ado. "Thank you, Admiral."

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