AWD #319: Tall Orders
Tall Orders
Summary: Intel has a hefty request of the new Chief Engineer.
Date: 06/05/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Got a Cigarette?
Halena Skyler 
Chief Engineer's Office
A small nine foot by nine foot office. Most ofthe floorspace is taken up by a desk and filing cabinets.
Mon Nov 21 2005 (AWD #319)

Reading. A fundamental life skill for most, and a particular life skill required when a ChEng moves from one station to another, and files are once more relegated to the printed page, rather than digital pixels. Once, the filing cabinets in this office were likely hardly used. Now they're bursting at the seams, and Captain Helena Tremaine has to go through all of it. Though her red hair is pulled back in a ponytail, some wisps have escaped, giving her a harried look that contrasts sharply with her calm countenance. That desk is covered with thick manilla files, some labelled, some paper clipped, some both and some neither. Halena seems to be organizing, just now — flipping through a few pages of any particular file and then moving it to a neat pile, or to a particular cabinet drawer. The door is open, and she is otherwise alone.

This is a level of the Battlestar that Skyler doesn't visit often. Primarily because she's simply not needed to. Not when she was Air Wing, not now as Intel. It's an oft-crowded place and the risk of obstacles is higher. That brings one to reason two as to why she doesn't… When the woman appears at the hatch to the Chief Engineer's office and raps at the door with the edge of her clipboard, well. This is one of the walking examples of war. Some of it is hidden by Almaeda's dress blues, but there's a section of hair on the right side of her head that's just growing back, but the long line of stitches from a wound are still visible. Primarily, however, it's the brace upon her right leg. She has, at least, downgraded from crutches to a cane… even if she appears to be early in its usage, leaning heavily upon it.

"Captain…" a glance to the board. "Tremaine, I assume? Do you have a moment?"

Whatever Halena might have been expecting when she lifted her head in Skyler's direction, Skyler herself likely wasn't it. And yet her face makes no change, there's no flash of eyes up or down. Years of finishing school have taught the subconscious that showing surprise or judgement at someone's appearance simply isn't done, dears. "That's me," Halena replies, smoothly. There's no smile, but her tone is welcoming enough. She gestures to one metal standard-issue chair before her desk. "Come in, please, Lieutenant. Sit down, and let me know how I may be of service." She gestures, then moves to sit herself.

The joys of Intel. You spent a lot more time dealing with people of higher rank and department heads than any junior officer ever wants. Skyler, however, deals with it relatively well. Her accent may be a clue as to why. She is Virgon. Undeniably. And upper crust, at that. Well-placed family if not directly of noble descent. "Thank you." She moves to a chair and carefully lowers into it, balancing the cane against her knee. "I have a project that I need you and your team to look into, along with Deck."

It's a noted trait, that accent, and to a certain extent shared. Not Virgon, no. But money and upbringing. Almost laced with it. And grace to boot — another important learned trait for debutantes. "I see," Halena says, drawing her lower lip in just a little to dampen it. She sits back in her chair just a bit, as casually as she's like to get. "Please continue."

There's a lot more ease to Skyler. Someone born to the life rather than shaped to it. A spoiled sort of thing. Or maybe Air Wing just developed enough in her to replace some of it. She's more military than not, now. Perhaps it's the war. The woman checks a few pages on her clipboard (that poor spring) before finding a specific one. "Ah." She glances up to the engineer, then back to the notes. "We have an empty cargo ship in the fleet. I've spoken with the Colonel," Petra, the TACCO, "and we would like to see work done to convert it into a quarantine unit." She looks up, then, lowering the clipboard to her lap. "Not just a biological quarantine, either. Piraeus has a storage facility that is used for studying Cylon technology that keeps it separate from our systems, but we'd like to be able to do similar in this ship. At least for transport."

Halena's brows lift curiously. "An off-network mobile laboratory. Interesting." She holds out her hand. "May I see?" She asks, though no matter the answer she'll continue along. "What state is the ship currently in, has it taken any damage recently?"

There's a brief shake of her head. "It's just my own notes," Skyler explains, "and there's things relating to other… projects." AKA Classified stuff. The woman shifts slightly, adjusting the angle her leg is at. "Right now, it's just an empty cargo vessel. In good condition, as far as I am aware, and no recent damage. You may be aware of the incident with the Roland Reese." The one that ultimately led to the discovery of the Jacks. "And the bio weapon the Cylons used there. We want to be able to have this as a containment unit in case we come into contact with it or any similar situations. As for the technological side, we are looking into a few projects regarding their technology. Specifically…" Here she does have something and from he board comes a photo, offered across. It's gun cam footage, but shows a satellite in the midst of wreckage. "There is a satellite net over Libran. It cancels all of our technology within it. I intend to have one captured, but we obviously need a containment unit."

"Was hoping you'd have some specs for me," Halena admits, but she doesn't sound sour about it by any means. Conversational, or as close as she's likely to get. Her slender fingers reach out to accept the picture, turning it so she can look at it better. "I'm familiar, yes." She looks over the photograph for some time, turning it over to glance at the back in case there's any notes or additional information that might be helpful. She's quiet, pensive for a few moments. "So when you say quarantine…" she finally says, handing the photo back over. "Separate from all our systems, but still fully functional. My main concern would be the navigation. We have to assume that anything on the onboard computers wouldn't stay separate from the Cylon technology introduced into the space. Things like … where that ship has been. Where it's going." She reaches up and pushes a few strands of loose hair back behind her ear. "We'll manage it, I daresay, I'm just … musing out loud." She looks back up at the woman. "Any other criteria? And what are we looking at for timeframe and resources?"

"We'll try to disable the satellite before bringing it aboard, but even then… We have no way of being certain as to the extent it's disabled. We want it as intact as possible for research, after all." Skyler tilts her head, slightly, listening. The exact 'how' of things being done isn't so much her ken. She's no engineer. "For resources, you'll have what can be provided. If you need something, pass the request through normal methods and we'll have scavenging groups keep an eye out." Resources are limited across the board for some things, after all. "Time frame… The usual. As soon as it can be done, but realistically… We're more focused on Aerilon, so we won't be going after this too soon."

"So no breathing down my neck, then," Halena says, the good-natured tone of the comment perhaps indicating that it's meant to be taken lightly, though her lips don't move to smile. "As I'm still settling in here … who should be my starting point-of-contact on Deck? Anyone tapped for this yet?"

"No. We're happy to hand projects of this nature off and let the teams work on them. We want regular reports and we would like to see results, but where Cylon technology is concerned… We're well aware that things may not always go as planned." Skyler manages a bit of a smile before pulling a pen out and jotting down some notes. Most of the paperwork on the clipboard is just covered in a messy scrawl. Spooks, go fig. "No one on Deck has been tapped yet, no. Talk to the Deck Chief, but I wouldn't be surprised if PO Shackleton ends up working on it. He seems to have a penchant for project work."

"A penchant after my own heart, then," Halena says with a glance to the filing cabinet full of mathematical goodies yet to be absorbed. "I'll be sure to speak with him directly. Is there anything else I should be aware of? If not, I'll start putting all of this together. You should be able to expect a first report in … mmmhm," she hums softly, looking to her pile once again. "Two weeks or so, if that would be adequate for your needs."

"Nothing else at the moment. There will be a Raider brought in soon. Already damaged, of course. But research on that is largely between Deck and the Air Wing. If they have need of your people, they'll reach out." Skyler reaches for her cane and pushes to her feet, tucking clipboard under her arm. "Two weeks is acceptable. Good luck, Captain." And then the woman is slowly working her way out.

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