Z-Day + 1 - 7:00 AM Mountain Time - Warren Air Force Base, west of Cheyenne, Wyoming In the operations room- Sergeant Major Raymond Crew was once again working in the operations room of Warren Air Force Base, acting as an unoffical advisor to Lt. Colonel Burton Carmichael. The quarantine clinic had been closed down earlier this morning after all of the patients had been examined again and cleared, then transferred to a regular hospital.
Some of those patients had arrived with him, having been given new outfits consisting of camo pants and white tank tops. Melinda Christie, the sweet Public Relations specialist, had been an obvious choice to assign to operations. With the right training, she would fit right in with communications. Melinda had been one of the first civilians to be admitted to the base. She had seen a lot of death and destruction in Sidney, Nebraska and at the truck stop, but she had also found a new family. Her new boyfriend Keith Deeds had been shot in the head, and he was still recovering from his wound. After that, he would probably be assigned to a ground crew and taught to maintain aircraft. Keith's mother Amanda had gone with him to the new hospital, where she would be working as a nurse.
Kathryn McCoy was an air traffic controller, so she was naturally being assigned to air traffic control here. She had survived the worst day of her life yesterday, and while her physical wounds had healed, she didn't know if her mental ones ever would. Kidnapped by the maniacal - and murderous - Coproral Anthony Gardner, she had done what she had to do to stay alive. Her plight had seemed hopeless, and it had appeared that she would remain his prisoner forever, but she had been unexpectedly rescued by a man named Jack Montrose, who had later died protecting her from a zombie. She had traveled with his widow Emily and her daughter Lauren, as well as Kyle Perkins, a farm boy whose parents had both been killed. They had stopped at a convenience store run by Ho Nguyen, where she had met and befriended a drifter named Cynthia Louise. The store had been overrun by the dead, and the survivors forced to flee when a tornado approached. They had barely made it to Warren Air Force Base late last night. Other members of their group hadn't been so lucky. Kathryn hadn't slept at all well. Thankfully, it was hard to remember the nightmares she had had, but they had involved Gardner. Even after he had been killed - twice - it didn't seem like he would ever let her go.
Cynthia Louise was an exotic dancer. She wasn't really qualified to do most of the work that was carried out in operations, but she could still entertain people and help with morale, and she also wanted to hang out with her new friend Kathryn. She had fallen hard for fellow drifter Richard Saxon, who she thought was her ticket to a better life, but he had thrown his life away attacking the mob boss who had taken shelter at the convenience store with his crew.
Ho Nguyen had lost his store and his employees, but not his dreams. One day, when this was all over, he would reclaim his store and rebuild. He would hire new employees, ones who would work for less and who wouldn't complain as much. Perhaps Cynthia would be interested in a job. He was here in operations because of his organizational and management skills.
Carmichael approached the new arrivals. He was a tall black man in his late forties with a bristly gray mustache and matching close-cropped hair. "Welcome to Ops," he said. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Burton Carmichael, the Operations Officer. This is the heart of Warren Air Force Base. This is where it all happens."
Cynthia stands beside Kathryn, glancing around the place. The military's attempts to keep a vibe of sterile, regulation normalcy still boggled her mind after everything she'd been through. She didn't say as much, though. The military types scared her a little ... though some of them were also kind of cute in a macho kind of way. She sighed. It'd been only days since she'd lost Richard Saxon but already she was looking at men with interest. Was that how her life was now? Chalking up the dead in their own little box and moving on from them? Then again, she didn't feel like the Cynthia who had followed him all those few days ago so maybe it was all right because she wasn't that Cynthia anymore. She was new. This was her life now.
Besides, she was feeling really lonely.
She wondered if she could put on a performance later to cheer up the troops.
Kathryn sizes up the situation room. She checks for what software they use for flight mapping. "Is the ADS-B operational, Sir? And have we heard anything from DOD? That is do we have a detailed lay down of the situation?"
She walks up to the workstations and introduces herself to the flight management crew. "McCoy, at your service. What do we have at hand?" The idea of getting some hands on experience of something mimicking real life is enough for Kathryn to be at ease. When putting on a headset, she looks over at Cynthia almost apologetically, she hopes the girl understands the dire need she has to play this game.
Cynthia simply winks at her and casts an appraising glance over the menfolk. Surely there'd be someone she could distract herself with... She wasn't about to do anything R-Rated or anything (who knew what might happen while their pants were down?) but a few sweet words, a tender glance, someone to crush on. She desperately needed a little romance in her life. She sighed. Would military grunts even be capable of knowing what romance was?
Then again, maybe there was a dreamy dish who'd be her knight in shining armor and come to whisk her away...
In the operations room- Kathryn felt comfortable with the familiar-looking setup. If anything, the equipment here was much better than what she was used to using.
"You get right down to business, ma'am," said Lt. Colonel Carmichael to Kathryn. "I like that." He motioned to the handsome young officer sitting at the station next to the one she had chosen, the only other air traffic controller in the room. "This is Captain Fred Proust. He'll fill you in on everything you need to know about the equipment. The ADS-B is not operational, and it hasn't been since early yesterday morning when all the satellites went offline. We have no GPS, so we have to do things the old fashioned way. All our intelligence from the outside has been cut off since around 1:00 PM yesterday, so all of our data is 18 hours stale. The only new information we have is whatever people like you who have arrived since then tell us. You'd probably know more about the situation out there than we would. From what we've heard, this crisis is going on all over the world, in every country. The President is missing, other government facilities have been overrun, and long range communications are down. As far as we know, we're on our own."
Fred Proust smiled at Kathryn. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," he said. "I'll be happy to show you the ropes. Our normal complement of Hueys is twelve, but we lost three of them yesterday. I've heard that you saw one of them go down yourself. That leaves us nine. One of them is in the shop for repairs, two are currently being rearmed, two are flying Combat Air Patrol, two are on standby, and two are flying recon. It looks like you know what you're doing already. What sort of experience do you have, Ms. McCoy? Say, do you have a first name?"
Cynthia began systematically checking out the men in the room. Most of the personnel here were male, though there were some women. The colonel wasn't bad looking, though he was old enough to be her father. Ho Nguyen was old enough to be her grandfather and looked plain, and he was grouchy to boot. The most handsome man in the room by far was Captain Proust. Sergeant Major Crew was scar-faced and unattractive, though his British accent was charming. Harvey Bennish, the mob accountant who had been at the store with her, was also present and working with the logistics people. He was kind of cute, in a nerdy sort of way. Cynthia saw that he was looking at her, though when he noticed her looking back he shyly turned away and wiped his glasses. There were a few Security Forces men around the room who looked macho and muscular. Some of them were checking out her, Kathryn, and Melinda.
OOC,It's actually only been hours since you met [b]Richard Saxon[/b] and he was killed. This is only the second day.
Anyone may roll Psychology to determine more about the people here.
Cynthia looked around the room and then startled, flinching at the sudden realization that the world had only fallen apart a day ago. It was ridiculous. The height of absurdity! It had to have been days. No, maybe a week... She wracked her brain, searching for an answer to her time-logged brain but there was nothing that fit. Only one dusk. Only one dawn. It had to be so. Her lower lip trembled as she realized how recently it had been that there'd been music on the radio and that there would be no quality FM radio anymore. Only static and cries for help. Why? Why did this have to happen? She sucked in her lower lip and hugged herself, refusing to give in any further to the angst that threatened to envelop her. No, no melodrama from the painful kind. Romance. There had to be a sweetheart around here somewhere.
She gave Harvey Bennish a shy sort of smile the next time he looked her way. He didn't know all that much about him, really, but perhaps he might be worth while. She preferred strong right about now but macho ... maybe not. Defending her was great but she wanted someone to hold her and make it all okay. No, she wanted both of that. Perhaps Harvey wasn't right for her right now. Perhaps someone else was. Maybe looking for cute was the wrong idea. She glanced around, appraising them for their Knight in Shining Armor potential. As always, her sixth sense was quite hopeless.
Listening to Charmichael she picks up a vibe she pushes the thought to the back of her mind and checks the data available. She winces at Fred Proust´s come-on. "Just keep your distance, sir." She says and moves her chair away from the Captain. "McCoy will suit fine, for now. What can you tell me about any evac plans? Are we sitting this epidemic out or is there a route planned, should we need to relocate?"
In the operations room- Captain Proust looked disappointed when Kathryn distanced herself from him, but he seemed to accept it. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "We do have an evacuation route planned. It goes through the gate through which you entered - what's left of it. It's since been replaced by a mobile barricade that we can move in a hurry. In the event that the base falls, we have trucks and aircraft ready to leave at a moment's notice. The only problem is that we don't know where to go. It's like this everywhere. As far as we know, this could be the only government facility still standing. But our standing orders are to hold this base for as long as possible, and I think we can do it."
Kathryn McCoy,[b]Kathryn[/b] could tell that [b]Carmichael[/b] was a very serious man, but above all a very tired man. If he had slept last night, it couldn't have been much. He had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, and he showed it. Even so, his mental state seemed solid. [b]Captain Proust[/b] was obviously very attracted to her and didn't look like he understood why she had shot him down. [b]Harvey Bennish[/b] seemed nervous and somewhat shaken, but he was starting to relax now that he felt safe. He was sweet on [b]Cynthia[/b] but afraid to say anything about it.
Kat tries to bring up an overview map of the air force base. "Somewhere secluded, minor population with geological barriers on more than one side. That´s where we should go - if we need to relocate. From what I´ve seen, a high density of people is a bad thing." She eyes the crowd in the room.
Map?,If she gets a map up, she will suggest using a dam,[i] like the one [/i]at lake Pueblo. [img]http://www.pueblomlshomes.com/pa/Dam-at-Pueblo-Reservoir.jpg[/img] It would be easier to protect than a base surrounded by city of crazies.(3 hours south)
There´s the Pathfinder Dam three hours north west from here. Up in the mountains...
In the operations room-
"Ma'am," said Captain Proust to Kathryn, "that would be fine if all we were interested in were survival. But wherever we go, we need to maintain an operational air base. We need plenty of open space for runways, and we'll need the proper infrastructure to handle, maintain, and refuel aircraft. Another air base would be ideal, but we don't know which ones are still operational. None of the ones in aerial scouting range are. Any aircraft out on recon has an operational range equal to about half of its maximum range on a full tank. Going past that point of no return is too much of a gamble. If a base beyond that distance is overrun, that craft isn't coming back, and we've lost too many aircraft already. I agree about avoiding populated areas, and there are plenty of bases in isolated areas. Problem is, they're too far for us to tell whether or not we can go there."
Kathryn managed to display a map of the region around the base, but it was a static image. There were no new data coming in from satellite feeds, which were not functioning.
Melinda could observe the people in the room easily enough, but she knew that the only way to really get to know them was to go up to someone and start a conversation.
OOC,[b]Melinda[/b], you'll need to roleplay getting acquainted with the people in the room. Don't forget that you may also roll Psychology.
"I see, so we are the center of civilization as we know it... " She checks the instruments."But we´re assuming that - while flying blind." Then she pushes the chair back from the controls. "But still, I´m glad to be of help. Show me the daily routine, sir. What´s fist on the agenda?" She looks at Captain Proust in a professional cool state.
"Nah, nothing for the last 18 hours." She smiles at Melinda. "Might be best if we just sit here and wait for someone to contact us... Have a seat, I could use the company."
In the operations room-
"Right now, we mainly need to keep an eye on the choppers we have in the air," said Captain Proust to Kathryn as Melinda came over and joined them. "If you happen to spot any unidentified aircraft, that'll be of interest. However, there's been nothing up in the air but us since yesterday morning. One of the choppers on standby is being prepped for launch right now. It's wheels up at 0715 hours. We need to make sure that it gets safely on its way." He looked up at Melinda, smiled at her, and tipped his hat. "Ma'am. I'm Captain Fred Proust. Nice to meet you. What's your name?"
OOC,[b]Melinda[/b], you may roll Listen to try to hear what people in other parts of the room are discussing - it's a pretty big room. You can join in the conversation with [b]Kathryn[/b] and [b]Fred[/b] any time.
In the operations room-
"Cabela's, huh?" said Fred. "That's great! They make all sorts of quality camping and hunting gear. I've used their products before. I guess you must have gotten an employee discount. Do you like spending time outdoors?"
In the operations room- Harvey Bennish nervously approached Cynthia. "H-h-hi, Cynthia," he stammered, staring at his feet before finding the courage to look up. "I, um, how are you doing?"
-Yes, I used to go camping with my parents when I was a little girl, so I was always fond of going outside. But after college I had to stop, you know, at the weekend we were always very busy and my bosses were always calling me.
"I´ll keep an eye on that air space as well as the progress with the prepping."Kathryn comments. Then adds, "Hiking, huh? This is mother of hikes we´re on now. No refunds." She looks over at Charmichael, then back at Fred Proust. "They are filling up the bird real good. Recon tour?"
In the operations room-
"I wish we could still go hiking," said Fred. "I love being out there in the great outdoors. But it's too dangerous now to go out of the base without a good reason. This bird's not going on recon. It has a classified mission. Even I don't know what it is." He glanced at Lt. Colonel Carmichael, who was speaking to someone on his hands-free radio. "I bet he does. He's third in command of this entire base. Got a lot of weight on his shoulders. I wouldn't want his job for anything."
-There is a lot of things we won't be able to do now. Even if we could stop the menace and I don't see how this can be possible now, our world is changed behind recognition.
Cynthia tries her Big Girl smile, which sorta looks out of place on her, but she gives it her best, trying to inject confidence and sophisticatedness and other brilliant ness words. "Hi Harvey! What ya been doin'?"
In the operations room-
The only thing that Kathryn could hear on the radio was local chatter from the aircraft on recon and combat air patrol around the base, just relaying standard operational information. They had nothing unusual to report. Cheyenne was still swarming with the walking dead, though they were starting to spread out. Most of those that wandered off headed for the base's eastern perimeter, which was capable of holding them off. Others headed in various other directions from the dead city.
"I know," said Fred Proust to Melinda sadly. "We'll just have to do what we've been trained to do in the military: adapt, improvise, and overcome. The presence of these infected is something we're going to have to learn to live with. But life will go on. We will still eat and drink. Men and women will still get married, have babies." He shook his head. "We're going to need an awful lot of babies to make up for everyone we've lost in the last day."
"Uh, I'm here to help with logistics," said Harvey shuffling his feet. "I just got here, so they haven't put me to work yet. They've got limited resources here, so we need to manage and ration them carefully. A lot of them, we can't make any more without the infrastructure. Best we'll be able to do is send people out to salvage them, but once they're gone, they're gone." He seemed more confident talking about a subject with which he was familiar. "Joey, Alfredo, and Hector are helping out with defense, and Duncan is working at the hospital with Emily and Lauren. That's all the people I know that are left - plus you guys here."
Kat tries to conjure up a deck of cards on the computer.
Mr.Handy,Digging some in the directories, maybe finding something useful she´s not supposed to find. The premise is to find a game to play. (If someone should ask her what she´s doing.)
In the operations room-
"Resource management, mainly," Harvey told Cynthia. "Ammo, food, people, helicopters. We only have limited amounts of each, like I said. Also getting stuff from where it is to where it's needed. Um, what have they got you doing, Cynthia?"
Kathryn McCoy,Please let me know the sort of thing you're looking for, and then roll Library Use.
Kat starts a game of Black Jack. Then shuts it off, apparently irritated.
Spoiler:
She was looking for some report of some kind showing what was being researched or analyzed at the wards. Only thing she finds is a Doc Norton file. fail libUSe
In the operations room- Lt. Colonel Carmichael came over to Cynthia and Harvey. "Oh, I'm sure we can find something important for you to do," he said. "One of the keys to our survival is morale. We need to have hope for the future and entertainment, so that we keep the will to live. A lot of our people have given up hope in the last day. Depression, even suicide, have hit us hard, and we're not going to get reinforcements any time soon. If we can keep morale up, we can keep more of our people effective and make them more effective. I understand you're a dancer, Ms. Louise. How would you like to help organize a dance for tonight? If you're interested, you can start by making a list of everything you'll need."
Captain Fred Proust nodded when Kathryn began exploring the files. "That's good," he said. "Familiarize yourself with the system."
Kathryn could see that there was only one helicopter currently on the landing pad waiting to take off. There was a clock counting down to its scheduled takeoff, and there were six minutes left.
"OK, so there´s one point of entry and exit to this base. You´ve barricaded that route with buses and trucks, right? What about sewer systems and tunnels? I recall most bases and airfields have fuel depots below surface as well as bomb shelters. At least the bomb shelters would serve as possible points of interests if we get hit hard by another wave of events. To have those places prepared properly could be vital. My experience of those kind of places is that they are in severe need of upkeep. Secondly, the sewers could be a weak point as we can´t monitor them. We might feel safe right now. But I´d sleep better knowing the underground is checked and that we have a place to retreat to - should it be needed.
Am I to relay this to Carmichael, Captain?" She spends a smile of Proust. Looking over to Cynthia, Kat says. "Count me in Cyn! I´ll help with the dancing. I´ll do my best, that is. Might be best if I stood still. You have to teach me some moves."
Cynthia jumps up and down in a way that emphasises her boobs bouncing with the motion, all the while clapping. "That sounds like great fun! Ooh, have a pen and paper?"
In the operations room-
"I'll bet you're a great dancer," Captain Proust said to Kathryn. "Don't sell yourself short. And, yeah, Lt. Colonel Carmichael should hear this."
Carmichael nodded and approached them, signaling to an airman, who hurried off to a supply closet and returned with a pair of clipboards containing paper and pens, which he gave to Cynthia and Harvey. "Buses and trucks?" Carmichael said to Kathryn. Evidently he had heard her. "No, we constructed a mobile barricade on wheels, but it's not made of vehicles. We do have sewers, yes, but it's impossible to secure them all. We just don't have the manpower. There have been no reports of the infected in the sewers. The sewers could provide an alternate exit from the base, but we wouldn't be able to bring much in the way of supplies. We can also evacuate by air. In addition, there is another possible route in and out that we discovered last night and secured. We have underground fuel storage tanks and bomb shelters. The shelters are always well stocked and maintained, especially now that we're in a crisis."
"Okay, one thing we're going to need is refreshments," Harvey said to Cynthia. "People are going to want something to eat and drink."
A tall, handsome man in his forties with hair just starting to go gray strode into the operations room. He had eagle insignia on his collars, indicating that he was a full colonel. "How's it going, Carmichael?" he asked.
"It's going well, Colonel," he replied. "I'm just getting the new people settled in. Everyone, this is Colonel Everett, the base's executive officer."
"OK, good to hear.", Kat replies to Carmichael. She lifts a hand in greeting to the base´s executive officer. While working on her station she tries to pocket some more pens and pencils besides the one she got earlier to write in the note pad with. More colours - neater maps and drawings. All for the aesthetic mind of an artist.
Spoiler:
Actually she will try to make a substitute for a knife. She´ll need something to defend herself with as these guys haven´t returned any weapons yet.
"Permission to speak, sir?"
Awaiting to be assigned word, she then asks, "My name i Kathryn McCoy. Thank you for taking us in. I´m currently monitoring the heli on the pad here. Can you fill us in on the specifics of that mission? Have you found more survivors, or is it just a recon mission? Another thing - more out of curiosity than neccesity, are we being reissued our arms anytime soon? We´d be of better use if we carried - should there arise a hot situation inside the base. Or are we only allowed arms when leaving the confines of the base, sir?""
"Hello!" says Cynthia brightly, approaching the Colonel rather oblivious to his station and importance. She does hold herself all the more perkily however. Be interesting to be a fly on his wall. "What sort of food and drinks'd be available for a morale-boosting celebration? What with the rations and all of that?"
In the operations room- Colonel Everett looked back and forth between Kathryn and Cynthia before seeming to come to a decision. "Carmichael, can you handle the young lady's question?" He motioned to Cynthia before turning his attention back to Kathryn and gesturing for her to speak.
"Yes, sir," said Carmichael. He nodded to Cynthia. "Rations are most of what we have available, it's true, ma'am. However, there is a small supply of specialty food for the officer's mess. But if we serve it tonight, we'll probably use all of it up. For drinks we've got water, coffee, and a variety of juices and soda. We're not going to serve any alcohol, though. There simply isn't enough to go around, and besides, we all need to keep clear heads."
"So you're Kathryn McCoy," Colonel Everett said to Kathryn at the same time. "I've heard about you. Only good things, of course. I'm afraid that the specifics of the mission are classified. As for issuing you a weapon, it is the commanding officer's policy that civilians are not to be armed while on base. However...there may be another way. From what I hear, you're extremely competent, and we have need of personnel of your caliber. I'm prepared to offer you a commission as a second lieutenant, Ms. McCoy. You'd be part of the United States Air Force. Once you're sworn in, I can issue you a sidearm and a uniform, the same as any other officer. You would also get a security clearance, and at that point I'd be able to divluge some classified information to you."
"Ground Control, this is Strike Force Alpha," said a voice on the radio at Kathryn and Fred Proust's station. "Requesting permission to take off as scheduled."
"You want to handle this, Ms. McCoy?" asked Captain Proust.
Kathryn McCoy,The pens only do 1d2+db damage, though they can impale. They will use Knife skill, which has a base level of 25%.
OOC,[b]Cynthia[/b], please roll Fast Talk if you want to convince [b]Carmichael[/b] to break out the good stuff for the party. [b]Melinda[/b], you may roll Fast Talk or Persuade as well if you want to chime in.
[b]Kathryn[/b], please roll Electronics if you want to handle air traffic control.
"Eh, sure Fred."Kat puts on the phones and taps the mic. "This is ground control, McCoy - granting Stike Force Alpha clearance to take off. Destination as filed. Clear for take off, SFA." The routine goes without a glitch. When she clicks off she removes the headphones and salutes Col Everett. "Where do I sign, Colonel?"
"Oh, well, maybe we should wait on the liquor," said Cynthia perkily. She wasn't dumb enough to want people THAT much off their guard. "Maybe two parties? That way everyone gets a shot but nobody's short-staffed? Or, like, three shifts? I dunno. Huh, y'reckon I could become a soldier too, y'think? I mean, like, there's military personnel who sort out parties and, really, aren't we all going to need to join the Army and Air Force and stuff to survive? I mean, I don't really know if there'll be a civilian / military divide after this shit."
In the operations room- Kathryn could see that the airspace around the landing pad from which the helicopter was taking off was clear, so she gave the authorization. The choppers on combat air patrol and recon were out of its flight path, as they should be. Their pilots must have been instructed to stay away from it.
"Nicely handled," said Colonel Everett, smiling and saluting back. "Now I know I made the right decision. You'd better put your headphones back on for now and continue to talk them through it until they're out of the base's airspace. I'll have my aide draw up the paperwork and get a uniform and lieutenant's bars ready for you. Once the bird is away, I'll bring you back to my office and swear you in. What size do you take?"
"Multiple parties?" said Carmichael to Cynthia. "Yes, that's a good idea, ma'am. One for officers, one for enlisted personnel, and one for civilians, perhaps. Not everyone is cut out to join the military, and not everyone is going to want to do so. We'll always need people to fight off the infected, but we need people for many other things essential to our survival that have nothing to do with that: farming, manufacturing, and so on. Civilians who can do those jobs can free up others to defend us. If you're serious about joining the Air Force, that could be arranged. It won't be easy, but I'm sure you can qualify medically. You've already been examined thoroughly, and you're in great health. You'd have to go through basic training, of course. It's not quite as harsh as Marine boot camp, but it's still grueling. You'd also have to start out as an Airman Basic. Only people with special qualifications get a commission, like your friend Kathryn. She'll have to go through officer's training, which won't be easy either."
"What about me, Lt. Colonel?" asked Amanda Deeds. "I was a combat nurse in Vietnam. I was in the Navy, though. I had the rank of Ensign. It was a long time ago, but I've been in nursing all my life."
"That shouldn't be a problem. That rank equates to second lieutenant, and calling you back to service should be simple enough, especially in light of the emergency. Qualified nurses were in short supply even before this."
"I'm from Vietnam," said Ho Nguyen. "I was born and raised in Saigon. They renamed it Ho Chi Minh City, but it will always be Saigon to me."
"Sure, I'll do it. Best to know how to protect myself." Cynthia looks thoughtful. "Well, those groupings should work if that's where the friendship lines are but, it might be worth while mixing them up. I mean, you don't want people getting all suspicious and paranoid about what the civilians are thinking or whether the officers will sacrifice the underlings. I mean, it'd be worth making sure people know who else is out there, right? I mean, we want buddies to chill out but we want mixing, too. Oh, also, like, no offense, I'm sure you know all about this, but what if all the guardsmen are, like enlisted personnel, right? So if it's during their party, then will the officers and civilians be patrolling their routes? Wouldn't it be, like, better to just figure out how to take a break while still ensuring all shifts are as covered as they can be, given the circumstances?"
In the operations room-
"Lifting off," said the pilot on the radio into Kathryn's headset. She heard him the Huey rise into the air. After a little while, it leveled off and started moving north over the base's airspace.
"Captain," said Colonel Everett into his radio, "I'm going to be bringing Kathryn McCoy up soon and swearing her in as a second lieutenant. Please have the paperwork ready, as well as a uniform and lieutenant's bars."
"I figured the parties would straddle two shifts," said Lt. Colonel Carmichael to Cynthia. "That way nobody will have to miss it, and we'll still have people on duty at all times. Not everyone will be able to stay for the whole thing, but that's okay. I was thinking 1800 hours to 0200 hours. As for mixing enlisted personnel and officers, that's against regulations, though there's nothing to say that civilians can't mix with either of them. We can get you started on basic training later this morning if you like. Maybe some of the others want to enlist too, and everyone can get trained together."
"Ahh! Okay!" She grins broadly. "That makes sense, and less planning for me! Hmm, well, I'll need a pen and some paper and a list of your music supplies. Do you have any instruments?"
In the operations room- Carmichael signalled for a nearby airman to bring a pen and a pad of paper to Cynthia, which he did. "Good thinking," he told her. "Yes, we not only have instruments, we have our own marching band. I can arrange for them to play. I'm too old to know what music is popular with young folks these days. I only know that I don't care for it much, but then again my dad said the same thing about the music I listened to when I was your age. What do you think they should play? I'd go for something uplifting and inspirational, something that would boost morale."
Kathryn monitored the helicopter on the radar scope until it was safely out of the base's airspace. "Good job, Ms. McCoy," said Colonel Everett. "We can go any time you're ready. I'm sure Captain Proust can hold down the fort until you return."
"Sure," said Kathryn. She removed her headset, stood up, and walked over to Cynthia. "See you in a while, Cyn," she said. "I'm going to go becme an officer now."
"Have fun!" said Cynthia, waving perkily. "Umm, well, I don't know what kinda songs marching bands can play. Maybe if I could go chat to 'em? Learn some more?"
The talk about babies made Melinda remember Keith. She sighted. She know him for less than 48 hours, but she felt like if he was the men of her life. Without him, she would be one of the creatures. She smiled. Next time that she would be with him... -So, and what can I help? I don't have any special training, but I have a lot of goodwill.
In the operations room- Kathryn waved back to Cynthia and followed Colonel Everett out of the operations room and into the hallway.
"I can get the bandleader to come here and talk to you," Carmichael told Cynthia. "They're quite good, and they can play all sorts of things, not just marching songs." He spoke into his radio. "This is Lt. Colonel Carmichael. Is Major Jackson available? Good, please send him to Operations." He then addressed Melinda. "You used to work for Cabela's, right, ma'am? Your knowledge of the weapons and supplies that they produce could be useful. How would you like to work in the Quartermaster's office? They could use some help to organize eveything, maintain the base's inventory of equipment, and handle requests."
OOC,[b]Kathryn McCoy[/b] is moving to the thread linked below. Her player, if he ever returns or she gets a new one, should stop reading the current thread at this point. All other players remain in the current thread.
In the operations room-
A few minutes later, a tall, very handsome man in a sharp-looking dress uniform strode into the room. He had gold oak leaf insignia on his collar. He snapped off a salute to Carmichael. "Major Jackson reporting for duty, sir!" he said.
"As you were, Major," replied Carmichael, returning his salute. "I'd like you to meet Ms. Cynthia Louise. She's helping us organize a party tonight, and we'd like for your band to provide the music. She'd like to discuss with you what songs you should play."
"Of course, sir." Jackson smiled at Cynthia. "How can I help you, ma'am?"
Carmichael turned back to Melinda. "Would you like to start in the Quartermaster's office now, ma'am? I can arrange for an escort to take you to the armory."
In the operations room-
"Well, ma'am," said Major Jackson, "my band can play pretty much anything. Classical, jazz, rock, you name it. We specialize in military music, but we're very versatile. If we don't know a particular song, we can learn it and be ready to play it by tonight."
In the operations room-
"Well, ma'am," said Jackson to Cynthia, "rock's pretty popular among the troops, but we get all kinds of interests. Some of them like country/western, some like classical music, some go in for rap, we even have a few metalheads. It's a very diverse bunch."
"You're welcome," said Carmichael. He called over a female airman, of average height and with short blonde hair. "Airman, please take Ms. Christie and Mr. Bennish over to the Quartermaster's office in the armory. I'm going to put them both to work there."
"Yes, sir," she replied before addressing Melinda and Harvey Bennish. "This way, please." She led them to the same door through which Kathryn had left a few minutes ago and out into the corridor beyond.
"Uh, hi," said Harvey, walking alongside Melinda. The bespectacled accountant wrung his hands nervously.
In the hallway-
"I...yeah, that's right," said Harvey. "It's just, I-I'm not very good at talking to girls, especially p-pretty ones."
"Thank you," said Jamie with a smile, leading Melinda and Harvey around the corner to the left.
"For what?" Harvey looked confused.
"For calling me pretty. Girls like it when you compliment them."
"Oh...yeah. You're welcome."
"Relax, Harvey. We don't bite - as long as we stay uninfected. But then we wouldn't be so pretty any more if we were infected. Red eyes are so unattractive."
Harvey chuckled.
The group reached the lobby of the headquarters building, which was well guarded. The SF troopers were only interested in keeping people out, however, and let them leave without a second glance.
In the operations room- Major Jackson waited to see if Cynthia had any more questions for him.
Outside headquarters-
"I'm sorry," said Jamie as she led them outside. "I've seen too many people die too. You have to either laugh or cry, though, and I prefer to laugh." She led the way to a Humvee and opened the passenger door for Melinda and Harvey. "It's just a short ride to the armory."
In the operations room-
"Sure," said Carmichael. "I'll have one of our cooks come over. She should be here by the time you're done with Major Jackson." He stepped away and spoke into his radio.
"So, do you have any particular music recommendations, ma'am?" Major Jackson asked Cynthia.
Outside headquarters- Melinda and Harvey got into the Hummer's front seats, while Jamie got behind the wheel and started the engine. "So, you looking forward to the party tonight?" she asked.
In the Hummer- Jamie pulled out and began driving through the streets of the base.
"Sweetheart?" Harvey asked Melinda, sounding a little disappointed. "Yeah, I should have expected a beautiful woman like you would already have someone. Of course, a lot of people don't after yesterday. You're lucky you've still got him. But, yeah, there's a party. Cynthia's organizing it. She's really pretty too. Her guy didn't make it. I wonder if she'll dance with me?"
"Well, you'll just have to ask her," said Jamie.
"Ask h-her?" stammered Harvey. He looked as nervous and scared as if he were confronting zombies.
In the operations room-
"List of songs?" said Major Jackson to Cynthia. "Ma'am, there are a number of songs that we know, but these are the sorts of things we play all the time. John Philip Sousa, parade music, that sort of thing. We can play that too, sure, but we also want to play music that's popular. We'll have to learn and practice anything we don't already know, but we pick things up quickly and we have time before tonight. I've always been a classical music guy myself, though I am partial to jazz as well - there's a lot of classical influence in jazz. But the troops have varied tastes and preferences. A mix of various types of music would be good, but there would be some songs that some people will dislike. What kind of music do you think just about everybody would like? I know Lady Gaga has been big in recent years. Do you think her songs would go over well?"
"Umm, I dunno. I'd think soldiers'd like Marilyn Manson more. Something heavier than Gaga. Maybe songs like "Sweet Dreams"? They're nice enough that anyone'd like them 'cause they're not too heavy. Ooh, I know! I can go ask them." She jumps a little, boobies jiggling, at the prospect.
-Actually I was single when this mess started, I wasn't in any relationship for a long time. But when this thing started, my co-workers had barricaded themselves and left me outside to die. Then he came with his family and saved me. I was a bit afraid at the beginning, I'm mean, a bunch of nomads bikers wasn't my style, but it was better than being thorn in pieces and they let me joined. Well, they were actually a real family, and now I feel like they are my own.
In the operations room-
"That's a great idea," said Major Jackson to Cynthia with a grin. "There are probably a decent number of personnel eating breakfast in the cafeteria right now, in fact. That should get us a representative sample. I'll take you to them." He led Cynthia out into the hall and through the building.
OOC,[b]Melinda[/b] is moving to the thread linked below.
In the operatons room- Airman Colby Torres sat at his station in the operations center, monitoring the network to make sure that everything continued to function. It was a little disappointing that all of the pretty women had left the room, but chances were they would be back at some point. Lt. Colonel Carmichael paced around the room, keeping an eye on activities and checking that everything was running smoothly. He nodded to Colby as he passed his workstation.
Colby continues his as expected of him. But since yesterday he's been curious as to what else he can dig up. He's hesitant to dig into things he's not supposed to have his fingers in at the moment with the Lt. Colonel roaming about in the room, so rather than sticking his knows in places he knows it will get slammed in the door if he was caught...he instead will attempt to try and see what he can find on the web (however much of that still exists). He'll attempt to reach out search for any other signs of people being out there who still have access to a network of sorts. Possibly civilians, other military bases, etc.
In the operations room- Colby could only connect to the base's local network. Access to the Internet had been down since early yesterday morning, shortly after all of the chaos had started. He knew that the base had somehow been in communication with other facilities around the world until some point early yesterday afternoon, when all communications had gone dark. They'd been operating blind since then, which was one reason people were so nervous. The local network did have status updates throughout the base, but they reported that conditions were normal. There were periodic attacks from the infected in Cheyenne, to the east, but the reports said they were all repulsed. The status reports didn't mention anything about casualties or successful incursions into the base, but he knew from scuttlebutt that such things had happened yesterday.
In the operations room-
Everything continued without incident for well over an hour.
Lt. Kathryn McCoy returned to the operations a few minutes past 9:00 AM, looking splendid in her spiffy new Air Force uniform. Lt. Colonel Carmichael approached her when she entered. "Congratulations, Lieutenant," he said.
In the operations room-
"I'll forgive your lack of protocol, Lieutenant, seeing as you're new to this," said Lt. Colonel Carmichael, starting to walk with Kathryn. "You're supposed to salute superior officers. You have to remember that you're not a civilian any more. Where is Colonel Everett, and did he say what this is about?"
"Yes, SIr, of course Sir!" Kathryn salutes the Lt Colonel. "Lt. Colonel Smedley is using torture on a civilian to extract some kind of truth. Colonel Everett lacks rank to put a stop to the ordeal, Sir." She tries to stand tall in spite of her mere height.
In the operations room-
"What?!" said Carmichael, startled, but he quickly composed himself. "Captain Proust, I have to go! You're in charge of ops until I get back." He picked out four airmen and waved for them to accompany them, following Kathryn out into the hall without acknowledging the captain's response.
In the corridor-
"The last time I checked," said Carmichael, "a colonel outranked a light colonel. Everett outranks me, for crying out loud. If he won't stop the torture himself, it isn't rank he lacks. You did the right thing coming to me, Lieutenant. I'll soon put a stop to this. Fill me in along the way. What exactly is going on there? Who is being tortured, and why?"
"Captain Hobart seems to have been betrayed you and leaked information to civilians. Smedley is trying to gauge whom the net of civilians consists of. Top secret stuff and plans, security protocols, I'd guess. Maybe you can put a stop to the nail-pulling?"Kathryn avoids any specifics.
In the corridor-
"Damn straight I will!" said Carmichael hurrying to the exit with the rest of his group. "Captain Hobart isn't a civilian, but Smedley still can't do this. Why would he anyway? Hobart has worked with him for years!" He commandeered a Hummer in the parking lot and drove to the security center. Pulling rank got him and the others inside, and they rushed to the interrogation room.
OOC,[b]Kathryn McCoy[/b] is moving to the thread linked below.
Everyone else remains in the current thread.