MD #174: Unskinny Bop
MD #174: Unskinny Bop
Summary: A meeting of the active Line members currently serving in the fleet does not, as usual, go as expected.
Date: Fri 29/Sep/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs:
Ambrose Clara Diaz Inez Knox Rance 
Map Room - Deck 2 - Battlestar Orion
Dominating the room is the large bottom-lit map table in the very center. Ten feet across and eight feet the other way, the table can gather a large number of people around it while still accommodating enlisted and support personnel in the small riser seating behind the table. The table has the most updated holographic capability and can project the largest displays on the ship. The risers to the sides are done in single-piece desk sections that run the width of the seating area and have large LCD touch displays built into them along with communications ports for headphones. At the head of the room are two very large LED touch displays that can have almost anything put on them, including projections of what is on the map table. In the rear of the room is a large, locked case that holds updated maps and table models.
Mon 16/Apr/2049 (IC Date)

The meeting was called for them all to assemble. Not quite Avengers, but they are all here. Or going to be. The Map Room has been cleared out for this, even the map table cleared off. Coop didn't bring anything except himself but Rance brought mugs and brewed up some coffee. Rance is sitting on the map table like a plebe and Cooper is leaning against a desk.

Ambrose arrives in his scrubs and lab coat, which is what passes for the doctor's uniform most of the time he's on duty. The Two strolls in and offers a solemn nod to Knox and Rance. "Gunnery Sergeant. Mister Hood." He declines coffee, whatever may be in the mugs, and finds his place off to one side to wait.

Carrying a mug of tea with her, after having had an extended and utterly futile talk with one of the mess crew over the possibility (futile!) of getting apple cider instead, the faint scent if herbal tea will just have to do in place of other socially acceptable chemical addictions. Diaz glances around the room as she steps over the hatch, glances over her shoulder next, then moves to the left of the hatch and takes a seat after nodding to everyone already here.

Coffee is always welcome to the raptor pilot, and Inez makes a bee line when she enters once she sees it. She glances around with a questioning gaze to see who to thank for the boon of black gold, and then takes a sip. She's in off duty tanks, a hoodie, and off duty cargo pants. She finds a seat, and settles down a couple chairs from Rance, giving the others a nod as they look her way.

Clara slips into the map room not too long after the designated meeting time, sporting scrubs as well and her long hair twisted up into a messy bun atop her head. It's probably common knowledge by now that she's been returned to duty - under the banner of medical. Why? Few have thought to ask, and she doesn't volunteer much. Diaz is studied thoughtfully, while she lurks somewhere out of the way and waits for the proceedings to begin.

Coop looks to everyone coming in and just nods. Silent treatment for the most part. He's in jeans and a gray t-shirt, looking super professional with the tattered knee. He moves off the lean and sort of heads to the front of the group. "Okay, we're here to decide two Lines to wake up to help us build a better consensus. No one person has final veto power over this. We can vote if we want but I suspect that's probably a bit too formal for this group. So, I'm not going to voice any opinions, just open this up for discussion. Let's hear it."

Rance doesn't say anything just yet, looking to the others.

Ambrose offers a greeting to each new arrival in turn. "Ensign," for Diaz. "Hello Lieutenant," for Inez. And then there's a slight pause when Clara makes her entrance as the doctor considers the Three. "Petty Officer," he greets Clara by her new rank. And then things get down to business, and the Two is prepared. "My preference would be Nine and Twelve. Nine for the best chance to get someone who understands the full context of the last war and where we've been. Twelve because I think we could use a mediator, and they were the first Line to risk acting against One."

"I guess I'm late to this little party, but.. why two Lines? Why any? Why not all of them?" Clara hitches her shoulders in a shrug. "I'm just trying to understand whose idea this was, and why." Ambrose's greeting is returned with a slight nod, but little else.

"That's.. actually a fair question," Diaz voices from where she's seated, both hands curled around the mug of tea that she's holding. "With the exception, obviously, of One," and there's just enough edge in her tone of voice to convey her personal opinion on this, "why not awaken one of each individual line that is not currently within our fleet?"

"Me, too," Inez says quietly. "I've been out of the loop since we returned," her glance slides sideways to the other two women, then to her cup in front of her. "Nine, yeah. Maybe eight? I know they generally rub people the wrong way, but they're less emotional, more likely to think more like a machine. Might help with tactics," she finally offers quietly, still staring at her cup.

Ambrose takes Clara's question in stride, and chips in his two cents when the opportunity comes. "I believe we were trying keep the numbers limited, as we don't know if the newly awakened will be willing to join the Fleet or end up adding to the refugee count we already have. That said, I'm not opposed to awakening one of each if everyone else feels that is the best course." Then the Two hears Inez's reasoning and goes for a bit of a recap. "We…" he indicates Knox, Rance, Diaz, and himself, "weren't able to come to a clear agreement ourselves. I think we're agreed we should start awakening new Lines. The issue was, how many and how to deal with those who may not want to join the Fleet."

"So we're gonna play gods, and pick and choose who gets to have their voice heard? Who is worth more and who is worth less?" Clara shakes her head, slender frame almost visibly bristling at the idea. "That's bullshit. I abstain."

"Didn't we play gods when we decided to not resurrect again?" Inez asks, her voice still quiet. "Didn't we sit and vote on that?" She takes another sip of coffee. "Didn't we play god when we resurrected you, against that vote?"

"Because we," Diaz glance up to Dr. Galen then back around the room, studying Rance then Coop and around to Inez and Clara in turn before she looks down at her cup of tea again, "are not in agreement. I don't think we have the right to keep the other lines in stasis just because we aren't convinced, in advance, that they'll want to join up and serve in the military. I also don't think that their entire lines should be punished, punitive, because the first that is awakened may decline to serve in the military. And no," another glance is flicked upward then back down again, "I don't think we should just start waking up dozens at a time. That said, there needs to be a smart, reasonable, coherent way to do this. We start off with two, ok. Because it's a start, and that's how it works, a starting point. Not the be all, end all, final solution of a binary equation. This can't be an Either Or equation. We also have no way of knowing which lines were corrupted as Clerics, so that's a big, dangerous, factor to consider."

Doctor Galen's brow arch at Clara's bristling. The Two is unruffled, and nods solemnly in return. "Someone needs to decide how many we awaken, if any. And if the number is going to be less than the remaining Lines, which Lines. If you don't feel like you can be party to that decision, I understand." Inez's point about resurrection causes Ambrose to frown to himself, but he doesn't argue against what the Eleven says. Then he turns to listen to the Ten, and gives a nod of agreement for Diaz's summary.

Clara looks over as Inez brings up her own resurrection, expression characteristically blank save for that faint twinge of annoyance. "Bet you're regretting that now, huh?" Because in no universe would Three be on the short list of Lines to wake up, if they only had two to choose from. To Diaz: "Starting point or not, it still means we've gotta pick two. And there is no way in hell that we're equipped make an unbiased decision about something like that. What about pushing the decision to Command? Then at least we can leave Line politics out of it."

Inez lifts one shoulder. "I voted against it. Was outvoted. It happens." She flicks her head to the side as she lifts it, flipping her bangs off her forehead. "Because I prefer to make as many decisions as I can, and not give up my voice to have everything dictated to me just because it avoids conflict." Her hands curl around her mug and she glances to the others. "We don't have any guarantees here that things are going to work out, but we are at war again, and we need help."

Diaz makes a small, startled, sound that's almost a laugh. "Actually, no, still not regretting it," is all she's saying on that particular line of conversation. "Why not make it blind then," Diaz suggests in return as she glances over to Clara and then around the room again. "I hate to use a child's game as a reference, but put all the line numbers in a hat and draw them, blind. That's as fair as it gets. Obviously, we're still excluding the One's, not that their entire part of the ship hasn't been jettisoned and the area welded shut. But if we were going to wake one up it'd be for the sole purpose of everyone getting a turn at slugging him a few times." She carefully peels the lid up off of the to-go cup, "And does command even want to begin to wade into this decision making process?" another glance shared sidelong toward Inez before she nods, slowly. "We are the sum of our decisions. For good or ill. Having the right to decide is what makes us alive, it's what makes us real."

Ambrose's only response to Clara's rhetorical question is a small sigh. "I believe we, as the available representatives of the Lines, should take responsibility for this decision. But if I'm outvoted on that, so be it." Hearing that Inez and Diaz don't seem inclined to punt to Command causes the furrow in the Two's brow to ease somewhat, and then he adds this thoughts once the Ten is finished. "I agree — One is a topic for another day. But I don't agree to drawing lots. If we can't do better than a random decision, then we should leave it to someone else."

Clara looks over as Diaz says her piece, and gives a little shrug. "We're at war, though. I'm not convinced this decision is entirely ours to make. Never mind the fact that we already have a biased group of voices in this room, trying to make a biased decision that almost certainly has no right answer." The pull of her arms around her body tightens, a hint of tension that her flat voice doesn't betray.

"How or why would Command have any better decision making parameters than a blind luck draw?" Diaz wonders with a frown at Ambrose. "And how will any of the others feel, when they wake up, and learn that we put this up to a debate?" she asks this too and looks over toward Clara again, her expression conveying a mix of wary frustration. "Yes. We're biased. Command, however, is uninformed, which makes them both not biased but equally unqualified to make the decision. Which, frankly, none of us are, either. No one has the right to decide who gets to live and who gets to die. Which is why blind luck IS the most fair way to approach it. Because it is blind luck, it is unbiased and it is the exact opposite of playing favorites."

"Knowledge has value in decision-making," Ambrose says to Diaz, "to deliberately ignore it is foolish. If we don't think that we, as a group, can make a better decision than random chance, then why are we here? Why awaken more Lines? At what point will our collective decision making become better than chance?" The Two shakes his head. "If our /primary/ concern is to be unbiased and all decisions are equal, then randomness is fine." He circles back around to Clara's point. "We are all biased. Everyone is. But we /are/ all on the same side. Now is not the time for mistrust or finger pointing. We need to work together."

Clara thinks for a few moments, then nods slightly, dark eyes on Diaz. "I'd be fine with a lottery." That's all she has to say. The concession is soft, and not at all grudging.

Sharing a nod with Clara, Diaz offers a half curve of a smile before she turns back toward Ambrose. "I think that you want to make this a smart decision, Dr Galen. A fair decision. I think that you want to cull the collective input from all of us, our experience, our perspective, our interaction and thereby come to some sort of best possible decision that would render a logical choice in the end. The problem with that is that by our very nature, we aren't going to follow the structured .. outline of our core persona's all the way down the line. We're all built of variables and perspective, choices and mistakes. There is no perfect equation. There's the best possible guess, and then there's not forcing the equation at all. Equal opportunities, for good or ill. But isn't it in us, or maybe required of us, that we have hope?"

Rance sips his coffee, having listening, and finally lifts his voice to what Diaz says. "That's the kicker, ain't it?" He slides off the table to stand and stretches, twisting at the waist. "Whomever we wake up? They're going to be individuals. Just like every one of us in this room. It doesn't matter if we wake up two line members or fifty. Each one is going ot have their own experiences. The goal is individuality. Is anyone here really qualified to speak for their entire line? As much as I want to say I am, that's just me being bold. But I'm old and have been around, yanno? Whoever we wake up is going to be their own person. Draw straws or pick a number from a hat. We get their input from them as an individual from their line. There really ain't anything more complex than that. That said? I'm with you on random. I like it. Adds flavor."

Ambrose looks to Clara, nods mutely for her concession, and then turns to listen to Diaz. He looks unmoved by the Ten's argument. "One can have hope and still try to make the best possible decision, given the available information. There is no perfect answer, no. But I don't see that as an excuse to surrender all responsibility to random chance." He considers for a moment as Rance speaks, but the Seven's input seems even less persuasive. "I think awakening one each of the remaining Lines is a better solution than a lottery," Ambrose says. "Even if we need to wait to get permission. Arguably that is less biased than a lottery of two, given that we have critical decisions to make after our new members are awake." The Two folds his arms and looks around the compartment to each of the others. "Shall we put this to a vote?"

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