| Greenlight |
| Summary: | Roubani takes care of some bureaucracy. An old project gets the greenlight. |
| Date: | PHD 268 |
| Related Logs: | Wingmen |
| Players: |
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Hestia - Ready Room
Business seems slow in Marek's neck of the woods, this afternoon. Despite the upcoming simulator training session later tonight, he's slumped in the chair behind Sito's old desk, looking resolutely.. well, exhausted. Could be something to do with the two patrols he ran in one day, or it could just be that he's getting to be an old fart. Either way, he's still in his flight suit, dark curls piled messily atop his head, and he's flipping a red pen adroitly in one hand like he's trying out for the finger olympics. Maybe if he stares at his paperwork long enough, it'll go away.
Roubani got off patrol and spent some time in the sims, loading and tweaking the program to be booted up in a few hours. They'll see if it breaks anything. Now, with a little time to spare and with his flightsuit still on and unzipped, he makes his way over to the ready room with folder in hand, his hair still a bit cowlicked from being smushed in a helmet. It's not the most formal way one can come in here, but busy people are busy. "Karim?"
Neither of them are on duty, so the absence of a salute as Roubani breaches the hatch goes uncommented upon. There's a soft grunt from the pilot slouched in his chair, and he scribbles something down as if his boss radar just pinged. Quick, look busy. "Nadiv." He notes the folder, then lowers his eyes again. "All ready to go?" With his sim program, one presumes.
Roubani's eyes flicker to the writing, the quirk of his brow subtly amused. "It appears to be. But you know the propensity of pilots to break things, so we will have to see. May I?" He indicates the chair on the other side of the desk from Kai.
"Sure," Marek answers blandly, hitching his chin at the chair across from him without really looking up. "If that folder you're carrying contains plans to overthrow me and emplace Cooter as the CAG, all I ask is that you give him a separate Head." Dry request made, he finishes whatever he was scrawling down, clicks his pen off, and closes the folder. "I'd offer you coffee, but friends don't let friends drink the shit on this deck."
"If that were what it contained, the last person I would show it to would be you," Roubani points out, mildly. "And thank you, but I don't drink coffee." He puts the folder on Kai's desk but leaves it closed, lying near but not on the man's work. Fake work. Whatever it is. "Do you remember the project that Komnenos and I were hammering at? Using the Odysseus training tactic against the Raiders? We wanted to request permission to move ahead. We've reworked the details, they're all there."
Kai's lips twitch a little, but he doesn't comment further on the subject of Roubani's traitorousness. Or lack thereof. The folder's reached for, flipped open, and skimmed while the junior officer speaks. "Sure do. Give me an overview of what it'll require. How many birds, resources from other departments, time to set up, impact on patrols." His eyes flick back up to meet Roubani's while he speaks.
"Mainly clearance and cooperation of deck," Roubani says, sitting back and crossing his legs. "There's nothing that actually requires any deck manpower; all of what will happen in testing is purely pilot-driven. If you'll pardon that pun. First stage is simply live testing of the startup procedures in both a Viper and Raptor. Lieutenants Price and Stathis have already volunteered their time for that. One each, with a standby Raptor in case anything goes wrong. Then, once proven it is safe, it will need to be tested against what we know of the Raider sensors. We can load a Raptor with the data and test against that, or, if command prefers, test it against a detection suite run by the Battlestar itself. But that is where CIC would have to assess whether it is safely feasible."
Kai nods slightly to one or two things said, his thumb absently rubbing at the scar above his lip as if in contemplation. "I think testing it against raptors should be sufficient for imitating raider sensor suites. Maybe see if the Colonel will let us pull in Kharon to act as a basestar. Not sure if you've gotten that far in your planning yet, though." He flips through the folder, silent for a few moments more while he mulls its contents. "If it's going to be limited to you three, and it's clear this is done on your off duty time, and won't interfere with the patrol being run at the time, then you're fine to continue with it. You'll need to get Demitros' permission if you want to go ahead with the baseship idea, though. Got it?" Blue eyes come up to meet Poet's again.
Roubani nods to that. "Absolutely. We will keep it entirely off-duty. We will need one other Raptor pilot for that standby, but I will be certain that is also by volunteer only. And I do like the Kharon notion…we're a ways from that point, though. I will let you know when it comes to that time, before I bring it to Demitros."
Kai makes a soft sound in his throat that seems like it might be approval. But it's always tough to say, with Spider. He closes the folder, pulls out one of the drawers in the desk that still doesn't feel like his, and tucks it inside. There is no 'sekrit projects' label on it, though that could well be its purpose. "Good," he concludes, briskly. "Let me know how it goes, then."
"Of course." Roubani uncrosses his legs, setting both feet on the floor. The impetus to get up and leave Kai be, that then seems to stall. "May I ask you a question?" His tone's changed, stepping back from the slightly more clipped one he uses to talk projects and flying.
Kai delivers a curt nod to Roubani's aquiescence that serves double duty as a farewell, and settles in to return to his 'work' when the young man speaks again. "Seems you just did," he murmurs before clicking his pen on and studying what he'd been working at prior to the pilot's visit.
No acknowledgment of the zing. "Did you see him when you were down there for training?" Roubani asks, quiet but straight. "'Krauss'?"
Hard to say whether the question's expected or not. Either way, Marek pauses in what he's doing, and looks up at the younger pilot still standing opposite his desk. His expression hardens, very subtly. Could just be that being reminded of Krauss, and the fact that he was gunning for him, brings up unpleasant memories. "Nope. Can't say that I did." Tombs is sure to have many more questions for him along those lines, but for now, the CAG leaves it at that. "Anything else?"
Might be that the whole targetting thing is bothering Roubani as well. Might be something else. "No, that's it." He stands then, pushing the chair in neatly. "I'll see you at practice, if you come."
Kai watches Roubani for a long, quiet moment, then nods once more. His brows furrow as he returns his gaze to the paperwork in front of him. "I need to stop in at medical tonight. But I'll see if I can catch a little of it." Blue eyes tip up again briefly, and there's a wan attempt at a smile. "Have fun." And then, back to work.
"Barrels." Roubani's mild voice trails him as he steps away from the desk. "Gods bless." And he's le gone.
