AWD #491: What to Recover What to Leave Behind
What to recover, what to leave behind.
Summary: Part of the Galactica think tank compares notes.
Date: 25/10/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Where She Went
Pearson Alastair Niamh 
Library
The metal stacks of books start near the door and run the entire length of the room, which is almost forty meters. The room is twice as wide and there are several corridors that lead down the rows. Near the door is a desk clerk manned by a Crewman from Supply, but farther back, in the quiet of the room, are generally several other people milling about. Towards the rear are several seating areas with tables and chairs. There are sections covering a broad topics and individuals can also look at maps, rent videos, and even games.
12 May 2006 AWD #491

With several tubes of schematics tacked up and several sheets spread out on one of the biggest tables in the library reading area, B has side by side layouts of the Orion and the Galactica on display and (on a separate page) is marking out the differences (however small they may be) on a separate sheet of paper. An empty mug of coffee weighs down one end and the viper jock is standing at the long end of the table, leaning forward, one hand braced alongside the pages on display, tapping the edge of the paper as she frowns at the schematics.

Coming in with a fresh mug of coffee, Alastair has both hands full. One of them is the coffee mug he replaces, an empty for a full. The other is his mug of tea that he wraps both hands around to come over and look at the schematics. "Amazing how little they changed in forty years, isn't it?"

Niamh bounces off the hatch and into the library, moving at such pace that she stumbles into a chair, then the corner of the accompanying desk, before finally sliding to a halt. She's got a ratty-looking notepad in her gloved hands and that is main reason for her rather loud clumsiness. Her green eyes are entirely focused on whatever's on that open page, a pencil stuck between her teeth, given that her hands are busy. She's still dressed in her somewhat greasy orange coveralls, so probably just come off shift, or been released early for this research stuff.

Accepting the fresh mug with a sigh of genuine relief, "Sovereign remedy," B notes as she straightens and gestures to the page she's lined with notes. She rubs one hand on the back of her neck then waves to Niamh as she bounces (or rebounds) though the hatch into the library. "Hey, there you are, i started a bit without you both," she explains as she nods toward the schematics displayed on the table. "Considering what it takes to gut and renovate a Battlestar, it's not really surprising that any changes were superficial at most. I've indicated the standard locations that senior officers and ranking NCO's should've been quartered. Any officer that would have been in charge of daily processing of reports and things of that nature. Someone, if we're lucky, may have left something behind that the canners and skinnies overlooked. If we can retrieve anything, even if it's just personal journals, diaries, AAR's, anything that'll give us a paper trail talking about what they were running in to, maybe we can get an edge on what happened." She taps the outline of the bridge, "We can bet that they pulled all the memory stuff from the bridge, all the data stores, anything that's easy or obvious. So we have to work around the 'obvious' and try to free form where other data might've been squirreled away and hunt up those locations."

Suddenly becoming aware of the two officers, Niamh straightens, tucks her notebook into a pocket while she makes a brave attempt at straightening out that wild hair of hers, stuffing it into something that might be a ponytail, or a knot. Sort of hard to tell. Then she retrieves her notebook and after a moment of hesitation she steps up to the table, eyes scanning the plans silently. The pencil comes from her mouth and she flips to a fresh page, her pencil starting a sort of haphazard scrawling that seems to be a mixture of actual written words and tiny sketches. "Uhm… ah… The birds? Sir. I mean," Pause, slight breath, the Tauran accent thick as she has to actually speak to the Officers, "What about the remaining birds. I want to see about bringing them back with us." Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

"That's a capital idea," B replies with a nod paired with a quick gleam of a smile at Niamh. "You can lead the survey on the remaining birds. See if they're still flight worthy, as a starting point, and if they're not flight worthy, see if their jump drives or nav computers or anything that held flight data is still viable. If we can't bring them back to add to our lot maybe we can add their data to ours."

Arching his brow for a moment, Alastair nods his approval, quiet as he continues his studies, not saying anything for now.

"And strip them down for parts." Niamh adds, then thinks a moment. "Though that's not the ideal. The ideal is to make them flight worthy again and then bring them home." She shifts, flinching a little at being put in charge of anything, then scribbles a few more notes on her notepad, gloved fingers worrying the corner of the book as she looks over the plans. "If they're flight worthy…." Another pause, and then she shakes her head, not finishing the thought.

"If they're flight worthy, recovering the Raptors is a good idea. And while we have a Viper factory on board, building new Raptors to replace the ones that are lost.." Alastair agrees with the young woman. His own accent is decidedly Virgon, but it seems he can pick up on what Nimah is saying, though the thickness of the accent makes him pause on occassion. "Carry on." he suggests to her, as an urge for her to finish her thought.

Niamh glances at Alastair and hesitates a moment before nodding, "Sir." Pause, "Just if they're flight worthy, it'll be a thing to get pilots and Deck crew there to get them up and running. Can't do it by myself, unless either of you have any Deck training?" She's definitely not being snarky, it's a genuine question, though it is offered somewhat cautiously, a slight stiffening in her shoulders, head ducking away from a potential smack. "The Vipers there could be stripped down for parts. The Raptors will have to be checked over carefully. Make sure the fuel isn't compromised, aside from anything else…"

"I don't have any, know, just some remedial flight training. Let's see what shape they're in before we go planning that for, hmm?" Alastair suggests. "Also, if we're pulling the gun cameras, we can check for a date and time when the flight pod was seperated, no?" he offers. "As well as a better look at the constelations and star clusters that may be nearby, no?"

B nods as she taps at the edge of the table again with the end of the pencil she's holding, "We have to make a list of priorities and then split up to accomplish them once we get there." She shakes her head at Niamh, "I'm more of a computer and tech engineer than actual mechanical engineer. I'm decent with a sorted out set of instructions and tools, though," she adds with a smile. She flips the page over as she nods at Al, "OK. Priorities. 1: Checking the birds remaining on the Galactica for two items: A - flight worthiness, B - Gun camera, flight data, general data etc. Depending on the results of items A and B there would be a third item listed as 'salvage/parts/retrieve'," she writes it out then looks from face to face. "So far so good?"

Niamh nods to the two Officers and is silent while she makes some notes, then flips to a new page and continues her notes. "Sounds good," She murmers quietly, a little distracted as her gaze shoots from the plans to her notes, then back again. The pencil pauses, then finds itself switched out for a different one. Old one stuck into her knot of hair, new one coming from a pocket. "We'll need to set up some sort of power on the deck for lighting, if there's nothing running.

"Probably need to bring a generator, and some of those construction lights." Alastair comments thoughtfully. "Maybe we can get command to let us use a light cruiser for the transportation, to make things easier instead of havuing to use Raptors the whole time?"

B points the end of the pencil at Niamh, "Speaking of," she begins then points the pencil at Al next, "and in the same vein. Could we run a power line to the Galactica from a light cruiser - if we can get one - to power up enough of the ship to pull this off?" is the first question she poses. "IF not, if we can't get a LC, then we need a generator and all the supplies that accompany it. We may need to request provisions that include EVA gear if there's no clean enviro to be working within. No matter what we do, this may have to be done fast and dirty. I'm not terribly keen on the notion of spending the night in that ship. But here's a new query: Niamh would you be able to look over the engines and tell if she's jump worthy?"

That last question makes Niamh blink a couple of times. "The Galactica?" She asks, possibly a bit stupidly. Mostly because she's trying to get her head around /that/ particular concept. "We'd need a whole crew to jump her, if she was. Uh… and um.. well, Lt Wescott said that we weren't going to get any support from Command on this thing." The Deckie definitely sounds a bit hesitant.

"She said we wouldn't have any assistance in chasing after where Galactica was, Hermes help us if we try." Alastair cuts a look towards Pearson, but doesn't offer more on that. As far as salvaging from her, perhaps there should be a plan drawn up to see where Command /is/ on all of this before we decide to carry it forward?"

"So we have to prove that this is a viable endeavor to get the requisite support to make the next possible steps genuine options," B replies before she nods and turns to Niamh with a grin. "I like to shoot for the moon, idea wise. That way, even if we fail, we still land among the stars. So." Pencil, again, pointed at Niamh, "We need to pencil in the idea of taking a look at the engines to see if they're viable. Then put that on the back burner anyway." She points the pencil at Al again, "And the flight pod. I know. Big honkin' question mark. That we're going to literally set aside. It's gone. It's torn off. It's decoupled. It exploded into cosmic fish. Doesn't matter right now. Figuring out /when/ it went on walkabout and under what circumstances is what will matter. And that won't be done until we harvest data. So. Aside from scouring the ship for any intel that got over looked, what other ideas can we toss against the board and see what sticks."

Niamh shakes her head slightly. "I think we need to just be smart about the whole thing. There's only, what? Four of us? Five. Rattling around inside that ship. I don't mind staying over night. As long as we can manage it. The more time we can squeeze out to look for all this data, the better. And whatever happens, we don't do it alone. We search in pairs." She's jumping /way/ ahead again, it would seem and after a moment drags herself back from there. "Birds, information." That's pretty much what it boils down to. Even if we could get Galactica up and running, there's no way we'd have enough people to crew her. As much as I'd love to spend the rest of my life tinkering with her, we probably won't get that chance." There's some seriously genuine disappointment there.

"There is something." Alastair says finally, and decides to bring it up. "I heard that there were plans to bring back the supplies from Ragnar to here. I don't thing we should." he admits. "Consider it the ant and the grasshopper - it's good to have a stash for a bad day on Piraues." the ECO offers as he considers the two and nods in agreement with the others, otherwise.

With another thoughtful look over the schematics then at her own notes, B nods to Niamh. "Simplify. Birds. Intel. Regroup." She glances to Al then gives another of those slow nods. "Though there's no reason NOT to top off on as much ammo and munitions as we can reasonably carry back. No such thing as to much ammo. We'll need to hump in our own food and water, probably or possibly our own air canisters and gear. If there's enough power - if there's power - to run enough to get reserve life support then we won't have to stay suited up. We may need to swap out the air scrubbers, though, which feels like a very good idea anyway."

Niamh nods to both the Officers again. "I think things like the ammo can wait. I mean, if there's time for that, great. But if the life support is on the blink and there's no way to get it back up and running, then we must use what we have wisely and go for the intel and the birds." She pauses and shifts, keeping her eyes focused on the plans. "Maybe if the intel is good enough to warrant a second trip, we may have time, then, to look for other things. Or bring back ammo and the like."

"Just putting all of our eggs in the Piraeus basket may not be the greatest idea.. but it's your ball game, Lieutenant, I'm just along to plot the way." Alastair says as he stretches. "I need to grab some shuteye before my CAP. Short turn around on ECOs these days." he admits with a sigh before he gives Pearson's hand a brief if affectionate squeeze. "See you down in recreation for movie night later?" he asks before give Niamh a smile. "Keep up with the good ideas, Crewman." he offers to her as he starts to step away.

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