Abigail approached Chance, the final member of the mission.
Location: Gym, //Vanguard//
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1130
Abigail, having secured two of the three accomplic-- team members for her mission, has been wandering the decks in search of the third. She checked all of the usual haunts a gunner might frequent, when he's recovering from being wounded...the mess hall, the rehab room, the berthings, the mess hall again, cause he's a big man, and now, finally, the gym. Not really the last place she would expect him, but, well, there you are.
Despite his size, Chance doesn't recoup in the mess. He recoups in the Gym. He spent a few days away, and needs to burn what little fat he put on, and he needs to strengthen his arm again. Right now, he can be found running, almost full speed, on a treadmill.
Abigail, making a full circuit of the gym, which, given it's size, is not that large, moves into the Sergeant's line of sight, "Sergeant Daly." She'll wait, politely, for the acknowledgment, and for him to indicate whether or not he intends to stop.
A glance to the side is mostly all Chance needs to figure out who is talking to him and he arches a sweaty brow before he smacks the stop button on the treadmill, working down to a job and then a quick walk shortly there after. "What's up Walker?" he drops the title. Which is mostly Chance's style, they are the same rank after all. He's panting some, and sweat beats all across his head.
Abigail, already a foot shorter than Daly in her bare feet, is not done any favours by his elevation on the treadmill, but she manages it by not getting too close, so that she doesn't have to strain to meet his eyes, "I've heard life on Scorpia's given you a...particular set of skills. I've been tasked by the Colonel to help the Gunny (Mercer) put together a small team to do a recon mission in cylon territory, you up for it?"
Chance puts his massive hands on his hips as he takes short breaths. He then huhs quietly and shrugs at Abigail, "Gives most people a skill set. But I'm guessin yer talkin about my time in the jungles?" He nods at her, eyes narrowed just a bit. "I'm not usually the first choice for recon, Walker. I usually go in after, bring down the house, y'know?" he takes up a towel from the arm of the treadmill and wipes at his face, "But if you need help, I'm in."
Abigail nods. No reason to beat around the bush, even if she did try to make it sound like a line from an action film, "Well, I wouldn't be the first choice for recon either. Mission's got two parts. The main mission, is to land the team on Cape Shedia, which is in Cylon territory. Scout, see what we can see, get an idea of the sort of work that would be involved in getting a presence there, maybe pushing them back enough to establish a beachhead. We'll be moving from the coast into the forests. Since we'll be behind enemy lines, I wanted someone who knows how to think outside of the box, in difficult terrain, but who can also recognize when the same tactics are being used. Save us from ending up on the wrong side of inprovised weapons." There are resistance and such everywhere, who knows what they might run into, "Secondary mission is an extraction, Addison Walker, viper pilot, shot down about six months ago. If we find signs, and Mercer clears it, we'll try to find him and bring him out." She pauses, "The team will be Sergeant Mercer, myself, Sergeant Ingvar, who'll be running comms for us, Corporal Hayes, recon, and you."
There's a deeply arched brow, and a slight cant of his head to the right. "Yeah, seen a few resistances in my time. I've done plenty of dirty jungle fighting." He then nods at her wrapping the towel around the back of his neck. "Alright, so we drop in, scout the beach and forest. Need to make sure the gear is right. Normally I'm using a machine gun or a grenade launcher, but in this kinda mission, you want to be quiet. You start raining down hellfire behind enemy lines, you'll just draw out their forces and get real dead, real fast." He pauses then and adds on, "Walker, viper pilot. Relative?"
"I've had my fair share of dealing with pirates. But never the sort that actually spends most of their time off of a boat. And I have a feeling that we're doing to need to plan for very dirty fighting, if we hope to take and hold any of this area from the cylons. They'll come into this expecting us to fight using our usual tactics. My hope, is that if we can get in you there, you'll have a better idea of how we can catch them unawares, maybe do a little more damage to them than they're doing to us, considering." The marines have all been being chewed up, of late. At the question, Abigail nods, "My twin." She pauses, considering, "Aside from that single target, we're not authorized for any other rescue, though Ingvar will be bringing equipment for anyone we find, to assist with later extraction."
Chance slides a hand back over his incredibly short hair and frowns just a bit, "Gotcha. I'll do what I can. Figure I can manage some good positioning. Not sure I can do much else. Cylons don't use the same sort of tactics, but I'll do what I can for the group." he nods then, "So yeah. I'm in. When do we leave?"
Abigail offers a smile, but there's not much humour in it, "That's exactly what I'm hoping for, Daly. We know how they have tended to move in the past, how they fight. If you can help us work out new tactics that use the terrain to our advantage, that will be all for the good." As for when, that gets a shake of her head, "As soon as I let the Sergeant know that the team is all together, he'll handle working out the date and getting us ready with the equipment we need to launch. My hope? Within the week. And I think Hayes has some ideas about how we can get there, so I'll let her now you're on board so that she can find you." Abigail looks up the long way to Chance's face, "Thank you for agreeing to come with the team, Daly. I really appreciate it."
A final nod is Chance's primary reply, "No worries, Walker. Just give me the details, and let's get a strategy session going before too long." He then starts up the treadmill again, moving at a walk and escalating quickly into a jog.