AWD #025: Sound Advice, Deaf Ears
Sound Advice, Deaf Ears
Summary: In the aftermath of the attack on Aerilon, Zachary tries to soldier on. Beckett and Beatrix try to curb it.
Date: 31/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Air Attack Aerilon
Zachary Beckett Beatrix 
Hangar Deck - Battlestar Orion
Each hangar deck is divided into five one-hundred yard sections, each divided from the others by massive blast doors that close vertically from the floor and overhead. Each hangar section houses all of the Vipers, Raptors, and Predators that the wing operates as well as the vital work areas to support and maintain these fighting platforms. Each bay is large enough to accommodate one of these frames and still get heavy work done, though the fore- and aft-most sections are dedicated to overhauls and major work to be done. The bays along the center section are located across from launch tubes and elevators in order to provide scramble and Alert-Five capabilities. The second-to-aft bay provides major elevator and transport access to the starboard bay as well as the major manufacturing facility. Due to the nature of the work, the hangar decks are major hubs of activity at all hours of the day and all but four hours overnight.
31 January 2005

Zachary has barely been asleep. A quick nap, food, and then right back to the hangar deck as he talks with the deckie on getting a Raptor prepped for check out to return to Aerilon. He appears to not even bother gotten out of his flight suit from the night before. "I want it ready to go, within two hours. Load heavy on the guns and missiles. I do not expect an easy extraction."

Likely the night hasn't been easy for the CAG-nor has it been in Marine country. Still here comes the Major, more or less in fatigues, and likely making plans or prepping himself. There's a pause as he is looking back towards the Raptor and said pilot. "Shepherd." it's a bark, but then it's been a rough evening. "What the hell happened out there?" Mind you he's not chewing. Not yet anyways, if it's going to come. Hands slide to his hips and he looks back, watching the prepping of the raptor. "You don't expect to just blip in there? Not after the pounding ya'll took with the King's Bay?" Likely though, that is exactly what the CAG is planning.

"Beckett." Zachary responds. His tone speaks of combat weariness and fatigue, but he's still trucking on ahead as he signs off on the forms. As he turns to the Marine major, he frowns. "Intel was bad - we got pounded from the moment we broke atmo - Cylon raiders all over the place. My controls got his with a KEW and went sloppy, I had to force your team to jump early. So yes, I am going to just blip back in and try to get them out. And try to find Janitor while I'm at it." he says neutrally. "Knox has his radio set, I can find him easily enough, and once we make contact, I'll pull them out and have them back here before dinner, if it works." If not? He doesn't address that part. "I'd ask if you want to come along, but it's probably not good if both COs are in a heap of trouble at the moment."

Zachary and Cyrus are talking while Zachary is running off the checklist on a Raptor, his usual bird over on Kings Bay getting repaired from eating a KEW to the cockpit.

"Demeter's tits.." he murmurs before he is bringing his hand over his face to rub there. "Hell I was planning on manning a team myself. I know my own damned Colony like the back of my frakkin' hand." The marine says. "If they're lost down there-I kin find em." or at least know places where it'd be good to hide until they were picked up. "But, no shit intel was bad." Beckett adds with a huff. "Figured we woulda remembered or thought that maybe they shift basetars from Picon t' Aerilon and back." and he's shaking his head. 'It's a Godsdamned Fubar situation.." he adds before he is looking back towards the pilot. "If Knox even knows where he is there." The Marine might-who knows. "If it doesn't, it means you got more than me to worry about gnawing on your ass when you get back-assuming you do." The Marine is a realist. "They'll be more jumpy and looking for signatures now. You show up there, spect raiders to come and be thick on your ass like ticks on a coonhound.." And there the other Major looks down for a moment.

"Your pilot is going to be another matter entirely."

"We were only 30 seconds from the drop zone, anyway, Cyrus." Zachary points out diplomatically. "At worse, they were a mile off of their target area. They'll need the extra time to get to the site anyway." he lets out a short breath. "I've flown CSAR for over a decade, I'm probably the best qualified to do this." he suggests, and reaches for the half empty cup of coffee he had set down earlier to sip at and regard the Marine XO. "And I can drop away from the combat zone, get the Aerilon CP on the horn and have them find me a place to hunker down until I get the queue from Knox to get him and his people out of there."

So let's see. Fatigued pilot. Unsure plan. No set timetable. Not a good combonation at the moment.

"As for Janitor - last anyone heard, his chute was burning as he went into the treeline near the base. Hopefully he had his survival radio on and can make contact. I'm not just going to abandon him down there, Cyrus. I am not able to settle that with my conscious. Not after the utter failure that rests on my shoulders of last night. Hopefully, Knox gets some good intel that makes this whole beautiful disaster worth something."

Beatrix. She's one of those awful morning people. The sort that are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed well before 9AM. Hell, the woman is probably bright-eyed and busy-tailed well before 6AM, most days. Gods damn the woman. Already into her third cup of coffee for the day, she steps onto the hangar deck wearing a crisply pressed officers uniform and the sort of vaguely lost look possessed by people who don't spend very much time on it and are sort of at a loss in the face of so much barely controlled chaos around so many things that could potentially explode. There's a moment where she sets her expression to one of grim determination, mouth pressed into a thin line, before braving the 'path' through the knuckledraggers workstations. It's… sort of like watching the redhead play a game of real-life Frogger, but with more coffee to potentially spill.

"You realize, that sounds like a horseshit plan, Zach." The major switches by going for the CAG's first name. Cyrus looks at him dead on when he says that. "Look, I know you didn't intend for this shit to happen-and it comes with being at war…" And there the marine looks down to the coffee the other man set down before he is looking back. "I think, likely what you should do is get someone in Tact to hail Aerilon CP, in a quick fly over and let them know the situation, before coming back." Yes-the Marine XO is saying to leave them there. "How much coffee have you had in you?" A fair enough question, right?

"If he has it on, and if he paid attention to what we were training him before Saturday he should be fine-and likely either to get with Knox, or resistance planet side." he says after a moment. "I don't think we're going about this the right way. Sure frakked up-whatever. But I don't think going in like this is the answer. If we want to bring em back, we need a plan." As for the incoming shrink: Cyrus is oblivious, as his focus is solely on the CAG.

"Cyrus, they're my people, I put them there." The weight of the first combat mission of an amublance driver is heavy on the CAG's shoulders as Zachary studies Cyrus' expression. "Even if tac could do that, it would take weeks. I can contact them easier from the planet's surface." he debates in return. "Or from even orbit, and play dodge the basestar." It is a horseshit plan, but it's the only plan that Zachary has in his head at the moment. He eyes his coffee and turns to have it refilled. "This will be number eight. And three stim sticks." Well, that explains the current lack of well thought out plans.

He rubs a hand over his grizzled face, the lack of a good shave or shower, because gods, he smells shows clearly in his expression. His hair is mated, his posture is mute. It's as if he pulled three double-doubles back to back. "We need to get them home."

Zachary corrects himself, "I need to get them back home."

It takes a good bit of navigating to make her way there, and possibly stepping on a wrench once or twice, and having a close call with almost smacking her head on the wing of a Viper. The deck? The deck is clearly not where the doctor is used to working. Or even belongs, really. When she's finally within a few steps of Sheperd and Beckett, she lets out a slow sigh of relief.

In short, she hasn't face-planted into anything. Yet. Thank the gods. "Major Sheperd. Major Beckett," she greets them crisply, her hint of a Caprican accent obvious.

"I'm not your superior.." Cyrus begins. "But, like hell I am going to be okay with a pilot stimmed and caffinated up to go back in there and get three of my men." And he looks back towards Zachary. "I trusted you with them-and if you want me to do that right now, then I am going to need a better plan than, let's play dodge the basetar-or get shot down over Aerilon airspace." And there he is stepping in towards the CAG. "I can't order you. But, listen to me. I know you have experience doing this. Just like you know I have experience dealing with men on the ground." And there he levels his eyes at the Zachary. "Do not, I repeat..Do not go in there right now." And he'll let that sit for a second. "If you want me to okay this-or not knock you on your ass to keep this from happening, then I need you to sleep and reset your brainpan. Because this" and there's a gesture back. "This ain't gonna bring em back. Or you back." But, that is all Beckett's opinion.

And Shit. There's a look back towards the Shrink and a faint, amused smirk comes up. Apparently the marine does find it funny to see the doctor braving the deck this morning. "Captain.." twirled out in that Aerilon drawl of his. "Mornin'"

Zachary rubs his right temple, a frustratred breath, rich with the taste of coffee leaving his mouth as he looks back at Beckett in return. "It's going to be a couple of hours before my bird is ready. I can take a short nap." It's what he's been doing. Report. Nap. Work on stuff. Nap. "But as soon as it's ready, I'll be ready." he says with a solemn nod as he glances towards Beatrix. "Morning, Captain." he says as he looks towards the woman, then back to the Marine XO. "I think he's bucking for your job." he points out with a smirk as he shakes his head. "This is no worse than when I had to fly relief missions for the Aquarian hurricane back in 02."

The corners of Beatrix's mouth turn up, however slightly. "Don't worry, Major," she assures Beckett in a mild tone that speaks of a somewhat dray sense of humor and a keen awareness of how her profession is viewed by most soldiers. "I'm not here to ask you if your mother hugged you often enough as a child."

She lifts her mug to her mouth, taking a long, slow sip of her coffee, clearly watching Zachary over the edge of it with surprisingly sharp, surprisingly clear green eyes. "So I've heard. Frankly, I'd offer you the same advice, sir." One brow arches upwards, parading across her forehead and up towards her hairline. "And more than a nap, too. You're either about to start twitching or faint on your feet and, to be perfectly frank, you won't be any good to your missing man in the case of either."

There's a snort from Beckett, before he is shaking his head. "I am sure if my mother didn't hug me enough, you'd not hear about it one way or the other, Captain." Still the Marine looks back over towards Zahcary. "This isn't a Hurricane Zach. This is the ends of the godsdamned world. A different set of circumstances." Cyrus says before looking back towards the Shrink, and there he nods. "I agree with the good Doc. You need to sleep. Rest. whatever. Something more than beating your brain over a botched op." The marine turns so as to face both of them. "This, ridin' off? Ain't gonna do a lick of good."

Et tu, Beatrix? See if Zachary ever makes you cupcakes. "I'm fine. I don't need to start singing the same line from a song over and over again to prove it, do I?" he asks as he looks towards the psychiatrist. "I'll grab some rest when the mission is complete." Stubborn, strong-willed, whatever you want to call it, it keeps him on his feet as he draws in a breath and blows it up the plane of his face, pushing the hair back as he considers the two.

His hand rises, palm to his nose as he wipes it over his head, trying to clear the exhaustion and push away the fog that threatens it all as he tries to hold his ground.

The woman's voice lowers. She is not one to boldly broadcast patient issues in public, but judging by the way she's meeting Zachary's gaze, she's not particularly inclined to back down from her opinions, either. Not when there's significant risk to crew members involved. "No, you're not. You're throwing yourself into your work, which is common enough coping mechanism on this ship. And it's commendable, given the circumstances and the lives at stake. But the truth is, Major Shepherd, that this is the first mission you've served as DCAG where a man has been lost. You feel responsible and are attempting to deal with it the only way you know how — resorting to you background as a search and rescue pilot in order to right what's gone wrong."

There's a pause, during which she takes another sip of coffee. She swallows it down before sedately adding, "What you're failing to take into consideration, however, is how the fog of guilt and exhaustion is skewing your perspective. Your job is a dangerous one. That can't be helped. However, we've gone through… what… four CAGs in two months? You're failing to recognize the unnecessary danger which you're putting yourself in and the cost which that could potentially extract from this crew." Her mouth quirks to one side, scrunching up and forming a series of puckered lines around it. "Now, I can't exactly order you to rest. In fact, you can tell me frak off and go back to my office, if you like. But it is my professional opinion, which I'm offering in an attempt to help, and it seems to me that right now, the Air Wing needs all the help it can get recovering our lost people. My door is open, if you need it. If you won't talk to me, then you should at least give some serious consideration to talking to your friend. He's giving you good advice, sir."

Beckett remains quiet as he looks back towards Zachary, and lets the Doctor say her peace. There's a nod there. "If I was a medico, I'd sit your ass, Shepherd." And with that he is pushing off from where he is standing. "I don't feel good about this, and neither should you." And with that he is looking back towards Beatrix for a moment, and then back to the CAG. "If you do continue on this path though, today? I can garuntee, I'll run it up the mast to do what I can to make sure you sit down and rest. And yes-get a better godsdamned plan than this." And he lets that sit there for a moment. Not an order of course-but there's the promise of doing that which Beckett hates. Running things up the mast. And so he looks back towards Zachary before he's jamming his fists into his pockets. "I need to brief for what we eventually should be planning to do. And to answer as to what happened." meaning likely to the CO and all. "Get some rest, then come chew on my ear.." Likely though when he does leave. He'll tell the MP on duty to radio up if it looks like that Raptor continues to be prepped. There's a look to Beatrix before he is sliding off. "Thanks doc.."

"You weren't the one that needed to inform the wing that Cole was missing. Or see the look on Sister Arden's face when I handed her Cole's medallion to protect until he comes back. But fine, I'm the one that needs sleep, even while they aren't getting any." Zachary lets out a long and slow breath and shakes his head, lips drawing into a thin line before he turns to a nearby deckie. "Let me know when my bird is ready - wake me up if you have to." he says as he looks between the two, a traitorous glare given at the two, especially Cyrus. Not friendship damaging, but definetly hurt. "I'll go to my office and get some rest." he offers.

He'd probably be better off being down on Piraeus with his wife, but he doesn't want to see her as rough as he is right now. When the mission is done, when he's cleaned up. But not right now.

The doctor is quite accustomed to being hated for her advice, for her diagnoses, and for her willingness to pry into other people's business 'for their own good'. When Zachary glares at her, Beatrix doesn't quite smile… but she doesn't look particularly disturbed by his expression, either. "Thank you, Major," she replies with a curt nod. It's one offered to both men, before she looks back towards the door — the one at the end of a rather long maze of things to trip on and people to bump into and stuff to duck under. Ohh, bother.

Whether or not Zachary is going to accept such staunch advice is up in the air as he lets out a breath. He says nothing, offers nothing, instead he turns to walk down the alert aisle to talk to his pilots on alert five. Fine, he won't go fretting duty - but nothing or noone said he couldn't talk to his other pilots. And then go rest. Maybe.

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