AWD #379: Won't Someone Think of the Children
Won't Someone Think of the Children
Summary: Kelsey wakes in medical and hears some of what happened down on Caprica
Date: 04/07/2016
Related Logs: Lake City: Aftermath
Kelsey Amos Samtara 
Recovery Ward - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
About half the size of the Medical Center, the Recovery Ward has fewer beds to allow space for those who are going through recovery. Rather than the drab gray of most of the center, the walls in here have been done in a neutral creme color. The beds are a little thicker and the blankets are actually present. There are a few clocks and the only other decoration are a couple of flatscreens that show muted movies from the ship's library. A couple stacks of old magazines are available near the door for nurses to pass around, too.
AWD #379

Kelsey was not exactly a priority case. She had something sticking out of her, but there was no immediate danger. Going in for surgery just after midnight, she was delivered back about four hours later with fresh bandages and looking like someone cleaned her up a lot. The drugs must have been good because she was smiling in her sleep. Probably not thinking about the prior day and what all had happened. When she finally wakes up into the afternoon, the woman yawns and lifts her hands to rub at her eyes, moving slowly. Yes, that's right, she still sore and is in medical. Judging by the look on her face, she'd forgotten. Kelsey even takes a moment to look confusing at the IV still dripping her fluids. "Huh. …Oh, right."

Amos was not exactly a priority case either, once his head wound had been examined and been found not to contain an actual bullet. His ribs are wrapped, there's a bandage on his arm, but most strikingly perhaps, the front left quadrent of his skull has been shaved even shorter than usual and there's now a bright white surgical plaster stuck over it the extends back to just past his ear. Perhaps unsurprisingly, headaches have been the order of the day so far, and one poor corpman has been checking in regularly to make sure the concussion hasn't turned his brain to mush in the mean time. Given he's ended up in the bed immediately to Kelsey's right he notes the new movement and glances over, giving the young pilot an, "afternoon Lieutenant," from where he's sat.

At regularly spaced intervals the medical staff on duty are either replaced or accompanied by one or two of the physicians on duty as well; in this case it's Dr. Nadir that is making the rounds and she begins, as custom, with the most severe of cases and works her way down. Not surprisingly, Lt JG Wescott and Captain Ommanney are near the top of the list, and as she steps through to recovery the sound of medical staff (several nurses and a PJ) are handling the fitful nature of the bewildered toddler that remains in the main room of sickbay. For her part, Sam wears an expression that is slightly harried as she shares a nod with Kelsey and Amos, "My apologies for the noise, we haven't had a chance to sort everyone, properly, as yet." She aims a look then to Kelsey, "I know that we're still mitigating the discomfort with some pain management meds, but aside from that, how are you feeling?"

Kelsey looks over with the greeting and it takes her a moment. Right. He's one of those Marine Dude Officer People. His name was on the radio. Old Manny. 'Captain' is safer. "Afternoon, Captain. How many days have I been here? I feel stiff enough for a week." When Sam enters, she lifts a hand to waggle fingers. "I'm high." Simple answer. "I feel lovely. As much as I would love to ask for more, it may be a little much. A little. And I haven't heard much since I passed out last night. I don't remember much after landing."

Amos is usually stuck in medical with other marines, so being next to a pilot is almost a pleasant relief. WHere it falls short of course is the bit where they're both stuck in medical. "Just the one," he replies to Kelsey, "well, less than that even, we're not even into evening yet I'm afraid. Does mean you didn't miss dinner though." Always find the positive. As Sam approaches he gives the doc a gentle nod of greeting, but lets her deal with Kelsey first.

"You had an abdominal puncture wound and several others spread around that were treated, the foreign matter extracted. We did some minor repairs around the insult site of the abdominal wound, which is why we have you on a higher dose of pain management meds than typical. Abdominal wounds are nothing to take lightly; but we will be backing off the dose in the next few hours until leveling you off at a rate that you can cope with and still function. We're keeping you for observation to ensure that you don't pick up a secondary infection from the wounds themselves," Sam explains before she updates the chart on the side of Kelsey's bed and turns a look of mild amusement at Amos. "I take it, then, that you aren't experiencing any memory lapses as result from the head wound you're sporting?" she wonders, picking up his chart next and flipping through that. "Personally, I think we teach interns to ask that question just to be annoying."

"Oh. Just one? Really? That's not so bad, I suppose." Kelsey has glassed eyes while she looks over at Amos. "Dinner sounds absolutely fabulous, though. I could go for a big plate of fries. …Do you think the mess has gravy?" Eyes go a little wide. Who doesn't love poutine? But Sam's attention draws her back. "It went that deep? It felt kinda deep. Didn't know it was going to be that bad." She doesn't even blink at the idea of being stuck here a few days. Kels seems to know better than to argue. "So you're telling me that I'm going to be sitting here for a couple days, completely incapable of doing paperwork. Right? Because that's what I'm hearing." She slides a little smile over at Amos with it.

"Not that I've noticed, no," Amos replies with what appears to be a wry grin, although it doesn't reach his eyes. He wait a beat, then asks, "how's the kid doing? Her parents were in the mob that attacked us." Glancing back to Kelsey at the mention of paperwork he replies, "I wish I could say the same. I've an AAR to construct and I don't think it's going to be pleasant writing," or reading either really, but that's not his problem. Back to Samtara, "If Major Grey should ask though, can you tell him I'm out for the count or something? Bad head wound, need to take it slow for a bit?"

Sam exhales a quiet chuckle, absently clicking and unclicking the pen she's carrying as she gives a mild shake of her head at Kelsey. "I would safely say that you are not in a clear enough mind set to be doing paper work at this precise time, I'll grant that," she allows with that brief glimpse of a smile. "But once we back off your pain meds you're going to find yourself very bored, you may actually welcome paper work at that point." The smile on Sam's face does fade at the query regarding the child that seems to be captivating her staff, "She didn't present with any actual wounds, though some mild dehydration and very distraught, loudly distraught at that." Once again that click and unclick of the pen, repeatedly, "Dr. Forrester is liaising with support staff on Pireaus, I presume, to find an appropriate place for her to be .. placed, that is. A family to take her in, that is. I don't suppose there's any way to actually put a proper name to her," lips pressing together into a flat line before she exhales a breath then nods at Amos. "The threat of a concussion is not something that we play with, I assure you. Should the major inquire, you're being kept for observation as well pending a final assessment from Dr. Forrester."

Kelsey starts to remember a few things. The kid was rescued from the ground. That was distressing to her when she found out. It makes her chest tighten, but the face is confused. Her memories are foggy at the moment and a fist gently balls the gown she's wearing. Brow furrowed, she looks over. "Why would a toddler attack you?" No she clearly doesn't remember the guns run. Her eyes then go to Sam, listening while trying to draw her own connections. Suddenly, Kelsey seems to wish she weren't so drugged. It's a little frustrating, trying to keep up. Hrm. "Where are her parents?"

While the idea of someone being bored enough to welcome paperwork might on a better day elict a smile, or perhaps a joke, from Amos, today he just lets it pass without remark. "As you say Doc," he replies to Sam, then adds, "as and when Dr Forrester has the time, I'd like her to speak with Corpral Kapali as well, she has the luck of the Gods regarding bullets that one, but she was pretty close to.." he flicks his eyes involuntarilly towards Kelsey, "some neasty stuff down there." Marines are a tough breed, but if a conversation can stave off potential future PTSD then he's all for his troops having them. Sam's question of the child's name gets a shake of his head, then he takes a moment to run through Kelsey's queries. "She herself didn't but she was brought along by those who did, whatever the Cylons are preaching down there it's working, for the whole down was deadset on how we should surrender and convert, then turned on us when we declined. It's not like with the jacks, this is something else, and something that means we can't rely on civilians for support on the ground any more." Well, on Caprica at least.

Making a note in Ommanney's chart as he answers Kelsey's question, Sam frowns through his explanation and returns the chart to the hook on the edge of the bed so that she can reach for the small spiralbound notepad she carries in one pocket, making notes in surgical shorthand while the Marine captain speaks. The look on Kelsey's face is much like the baffled look on Sam's face, "I'll pass along both your name and the corporals' name to Dr. Forrester," she confirms and taps the edge of the pen against the paper. She narrows her eyes subtly at the flick of glance aimed at Kelsey then away, studying Amos for a moment before she hazards a query of her own: "You mean to say that the child was carried into the fight, as in, brought along by her parents, presuming they were her parents that is, and carried with when they attacked you?"

Kelsey see's the look but doesn't connect the dots. "You mean when Evans… Yeah." She looks down, the memory popping into her head suddenly. That radio call brings a sad look to her face. The idea of what the parents were doing, though, has her shake her head. "Good Gods. I can kill machines. But I really don't want to get into fighting a war and killing humanity. At this point it just seems to horrificly counterproductive." Sam's question has her lift her head, though, and look at the Doctor. There's something registering there. Kelsey seems about to say something, lips parted, but her brain is trying to puzzle out what its feeling.

"Thats exactly what I mean," Amos replies grim faced to Samtara, "there were older children too, many of them armed. Several deployed on rooftops as snipers with rifles." He lifts a hand to rest ontop of where his ribs are bound and adds, "one of them shot me, Evans too." Then back to Sam he adds more seriously, "I don't know what they did to those people, but there were what I can only describe as fanatical. I doubt they did anything to the kid, but I'm afraid I can't rule it out until we know more about just what is happening down there."

Sam waves one hand slightly, dismissing the idea, "A child that young does not have access to short term or long term memory as of yet to have formed any logical connection between emotional feedback and social, cultural or religious conditioning. She's been checked over to ensure that she wasn't wired with any sort of explosive or trapped in anyway, her attire has been replaced by donations from the civilian attire that has filtered through since the on-set of the war. And, while I personally don't hold with having children on board, I'll speak directly with who ever will be handling the placement of the child to ensure that she is not placed with a family that has to many children already or any powerful religious persuasion that may affect her emotional stability as she matures." She taps the pen against the edge of the notepad after making that exact note, only glancing up after she does so. "This does rather well beg the question as to what sort of programming they are using and then, following that question with another, what sort of training camps are in place on the ground." She glances back to Kelsey, hearing the tone in her voice, a grim expression on Sam's face, "One way to win this war, Lieutenant, is to turn the next entire generation into converts. That's long term social planning that is.. statistically unlikely to be overturned through a blood and bullet warfare."

Kelsey stares over at Amos, not entirely sure what to make of that. "My Gods, what would make a person do something like that with their children? They're innocent. To fill them with something like that…" That's some pained grief to consider, likely the pilot thinking about her own daughter and what would bring her to do something like that. The horrile images run around her mind until Sam addresses her again. She looks almost despondent for a moment, but its likely the drugs. "My Gods, who would be on our side then? We'd be abandoned by our own people. It'd just be us… and Piraeus. We'd have no allies." Despite the potential pain, she hugs herself and looks away.

"There is certainly evidence of long-term planning," Amos replies, although he declines to be drawn any further than that, even if there's a high chance Kapali will tell of the oh so not very enticing offer she was made and the news will get out anyway. The rest of Sam's long string of words is largely understood, and he gives a faint nod to indicate that, but then he notes Kelsey's reaction and turns his attention to her. "Well, so far, I've only seen evidence of it on Caprica. It's a worrying development, but a contained one." Because that makes everything better.

"It would be intriguing to determine if the same level of conditioning that is found in the collaborators that we have in custody is on par with the conditioning for the civilians that you found on Caprica," Sam muses as she makes yet another note for herself. "If there are layers of conditioning, for example, depths of command emplaced, then it would suggest a level of increasing sophistication and skill. I wonder which of the model lines is in charge of this conditioning, and if it's a model that we've encountered as yet," there's that curiosity and speculation again from the doctor. She exhales a breath before nodding at Kelsey, "The positive side to this is that children are remarkably resilient and can, for lack of a better phrase, bounce back from it with a supportive family unit and accompanying emotional ties." She frowns then, "So far this is only been reported on Caprica, you're certain, Captain?"

"If they're doing it on Caprica then I sorta doubt its the only place they are doing it. Even if they do, there's two billion people left living on Cap. Two billion. We don't even have that many bullets." Probably. Kelsey shakes her head and forces her eyes to close for a moment before looking back to Samtara. "Yeah. Well that's true of, like, just about anything with kids. You just have to love your kids and do your best and trust that they will be okay. Some things are just out of your hands. Embracing that is the hardest part. I couldn't imagine trying to raise a kid who has been indoctrinated with hate."

"No," Amos replies carefully back to Samtara, "I've only seen it on Caprica. You'd need to discuss with Major Grey if it's been reported anywhere else. I don't get read into all of the intelligence reports he sees." Which can be annoying at times, but then if he was he'd never have time to do his actual job, so it balances out. "How long before I can return to my rack?" he then asks, perhaps typically, "you mentioned continued observation?" See he was paying attention. "I appreciate it'll be longer before I'm fit for duty, but I don't want to be taking room that might be better of used for someone else." Without the benefit of kids of his own he can't comment directly on Kelsey's words, but has to rely instead on his nephews and nieces, or which there are, or at least were, several. "I suspect there'll be nightmares, and other psychological issues, but she's safe now at least, and can get the help she needs. I suspect we got her out while she is still young enough."

"I would imagine that the adults that have been re-conditioned in this manner would not, of their own volition, be raising their children in this manner were they given an option to do otherwise. That said, it's actually worse all around. The children are as much victims of this war as their parents are," Sam exhales a sigh and tucks the notebook away, "I'll add that to the list of things on the board," saying this as much to herself as to Amos and Kelsey. She gives a thoughtful nod to Amos, "I'll do that, it never hurts to ask." To his question she gives a wry smile, "A full twenty four standard ship hours, Captain, and presuming that Dr. Forrester signs off on it, you can return to your rack and, again, pending Forrester's approval, be rotated back to regular duty within a day or so."

The pilot sits quietly while Amos talks about what has been seen and where. And when he can get back to his rack. She looks down and realizes her hand still has her fist balled around the shoot over her chest. "The people at the daycare in Sheridan are really good. Most of those kids are messed up. I'm not sure where they found people with so much patience." She shakes her head, voice quiet. Samtara does make sense, though. "Yeah but if these people are violently against us, victims or not, we can't just roll over and die because they're.. Cy-zombies or whatever. I'm just terrified at the idea of being alone. As much as Piraeus is sort of our home now- I've always figured one day we could go back to the Colonies." The prospect of that being off the table is a little disturbing.

Amos does a quick mental calculation based on when the raptors touched down in the hanger to work out how much more of those twenty four hours is left. Enough that he doesn't start to move yet, but equally, few enough that he knows he'll get his own pillow tonight. He can cope with that. "I think Lieutenant, he notes, "that Picon shows us well enough that we won't be alone. I've heard no reports of such conditioning from my troops who've been down on Aerlion either. The colonies are not lost to us," well, most of them aren't anyway.

"This was is a long way from over, Lieutenant," Sam replies, tucking both hands into the front of her lab coat as she speaks. "The statistical probability that this conditioning actually works one hundred percent of the time is unlikely. There will be civilians who, through their own abilities or their own life experiences, will prove themselves resistant to this conditioning. Of that percentage will be, further, a percentage that are smart enough to go along with the appearance of conditioning so that they are not discovered. That fraction of a percentage will be our margin of error, and those very people will be our way in, if a plan is made, to turn the tide on these city centers. This war isn't over," she says again as she reaches out and smooths the blanket around Kelsey, tucking in one edge, "and I am willing to bet that the cylons are as well aware of this fact as we are; and for thinking machines, I'll bet that this scares the hell out of them as well. We didn't roll over and die, at the on set of the war, and we sure as hell aren't doing so now." She aims a nod at Amos as well as she says this, "No, they're not. Not by a long shot."

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