| abstract
| - Operations Center -- Reef Home City: Mon Calamari The operations center is an intense place, an extension of the inorganic Military complex it inhabitis. It's doors lead to a turbolift, which takes it's passengers down a floor to a security station, which opens up into what is refered to as the Wranglers's Den: A massive sprawl of low walled Cubicals. Military Intellegence anyalists scurry too and from around the Den, the seemingly stable oasis of innactivity being the Holoprojector that dominates the center of the cavity, with a real time layout of the Galaxy and fleet deployments. One of the meeting rooms within the Operations Center at Reef Home City has been cordoned off for the purposes of an inquiry - one Ministry of Defense member Senator Del Marx was not entirely thrilled to be a part of, but her role would be a fairly passive one. The more involved tasks fell to her marine assocate. That is, if all went according to plan and the matter were as straight-forward as she'd been lead to believe - as a smuggler, she doubted that would end up being the case. Del's standing near the room's center table while she waits, arms loosely folded while she watches a small display on the tabletop showing news footage from the outside. "You'd think they smelled blood in the water," she grunts unhappily, scowling as she reaches down to flick off the display. "Only thing worse than a politician opening their mouth is a newsie," Wrista mutters by way of answer, letting her irritation at the details of this duty coming about overtake her usual cheer, of which she currently posesses a total lack. The marine adjusts the sleeve of her dress uniform, once more silently mouthing imprecations for the circumstances that have made all the formality necessary before she settles in to wait. She's not pleased to be thee, she's not pleased this has to be done in a wholly spic-and-span manner for the recorders, and she's most certainly not pleased that it's pulling her away from tasks that could actually be deemed *important*. Yet, it must be done, and here she is. Lucky her, having been on Paladin when everything started exploding and therefore the logical choice of staff to handle it. There's two sharp raps at the door, and it slides open. "Captain Draelis," a guard announces. He steps aside and salutes sharply as Draelis steps through the portal. He's in his full dress uniform- weapon and all, a subtle message at what he sees as his duty to the Republic. His broad-rimmed dress hat is tucked neatly under his left arm. The Captain moves towards Del and Wrista's seat at the table, making familiar eye contact, and two meters away stops and comes to attention. "Captain Draelis reports to the board of review, as directed," he announces, his motions smooth without the crackle that a less personal situation might direct. He holds the salute until returned or dismissed, regarding Wrista and Del. "Senator Marx. Ipex," he nods at Wrista. "It's good to see you two again." Del casts a sidelong look towards Wrista at her remark, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards into a grin. She may /technically/ be a politician, but... no, no, she isn't a politician. The knock at the door takes her attention before she can comment, anyway, the Coruscanti woman straightening up as Draelis is announced and moves inside. "Likewise, but for the circumstances," she admits, her smile almost apologetic as she gestures towards a seat. "Make yourself comfortable. This thing --" She knocks one of the table's legs with her boot. "-- is going to be recording these proceedings for the record. We need this to be as transparent as possible if we want the people out there to be confident in whatever is decided in the end." Wrista simply nods and gestures at a chair. She seems to have decided to maintain her professionalism in an effort to avoid strangling someone or something. These things happen. "Captain. Please, sit. I am, of course, required to inform you that this is a formal investigation that will be recorded, and it is of course within your rights to have an advocate present, though Command would, of course, appreciate this being settled as expediantly as possible. I am also not here to render any judgement, but simply collect facts which will be turned over to an appropriate judging body." She does not-- quite-- manage to avoid a twitch of lekku at the word "appropriate"-- a gesture akin to a very subtle rolling of the eyes. "I now must ask you if you understand all of these statements and/or have any questions prior to the start of recording." The precision and apparent patience with which she runs through the super-formal protocol actually manages to underline her frustration and impatience with the entire affair. The twitching gesture isn't missed, and Vengan raises his voice for the recorder. "Let it be known that I, Captain Vengan Draelis, New Republic Marine Corps, ID Number eight-one-seven-nine-two-two-seven-five-four-two hereby understand the rights I am entitled to as a Marine of the New Republic Marine Corps and a citizen of good standing of this Republic," Draelis says, lowering himself into the seat. He seems weary, too weary for good humor. "Furthermore, I waive the right to have a legal advocate present at this time and make no declaration of mental unfitness or imbalance. At this time, I have no questions of the board and am ready and willing to proceed with the inquiry." He sets his cover on the desk and interlaces his fingers on the desktop, looking at the two women in turn. For her part, Del spreads her hands in a silent 'there you go' gesture as the initial formalities are taken care of. She settles into a seat of her own, turning off her comm unit before she folds her hands in her lap. She's here as an observer more than anything else - the rest is in Wrista's hands. "Thank you, Captain Draelis-- so noted." Wrista pauses, to make a mental run through what needs covering. "Captain, official record shows that you were the officer of record in command of the Marine forces involved in combat at the Loman Industrial Bacta Facility. Is this correct?" Simple establishing question, and of course she is already aware of the answer, as everyone is, so she only pauses long enough for the expected simple confirmation from Vengan before continuing. "Please summarize, concisely, the events that transpired there in regards to the combat operations undertaken. If extra information is required regarding specific points, I will ask for further elaboration or speculation as deemed appropriate." "Aye, ma'am." Draelis takes a moment to compose his thoughts. "At 1300 on Day 164 of year 16 of this Republic, I was briefed by my commanding office, Colonel Mestoph Katar, of the extent of what was at that point deemed a terrorist insurrection in Reef Home city. Planetary requests for aid were sent out to the Republic's Department of Disaster. Additional requests for deployment of military assets on Reef Home city were submitted via the Department of Defense from the Planetary Governor of Dac. His general request, as is documented, was for Army peacekeeping forces to deploy as combat operators in suspension of posse comitatus, as is the Governor's authority during a natural disaster or civil crisis. He specifically requested the additional presence of a Marine special operations brigade to help combat specific insurgency threats. The 73rd Brigade was submitted by the Commandant of the Marines to the Joint Chiefs and the Ministry of Defense. The 224th, 768th, and the 226th were deployed as components of the ad hoc Special Operations Command shortly thereafter." Draelis pauses to take a breath. So much for being a silent observer. Something in Draelis' report sticks out against what she'd been told, and as he stops for breath, Del swivels in her seat to quietly begin tapping at one of the table's inset consoles to bring up the relevant reports. She makes a quiet, somewhat snide-sounding noise and rolls her eyes, but mercifully stills her hand a few inches shy of smacking herself on the forehead. "I think I see one of our initial problems," she murmurs by way of explanation, but waves for the pair to continue on while she researches further, keeping an ear on the proceedings. Wrista, for her part, simply listens, nodding her understanding now and then. She glances Del's way briefly when she pipes up quietly, but simply motions for Vengan to continue. It's more information than she had strictly asked for, but as the background was proving useful, she isn't inclined to argue. "I was specifically tasked with planning and executing the assault on the Loman Bacta Facility in Reef Home," Draelis says, continuing on. "We were planning to conduct a five point assault on various terrorist cells. Other team leaders were tasked with securing a textile plant, a data storage center, a major transportation hub and what forward intelligence assets told us was a gathering point for the resistance. Our intel was incorrect in that regard, but did very accurately measure the resistence at Loman and the other sites. Loman was occupied by twenty-three enemy combatants, who had barricaded themselves and forty-nine hostages in the secure medical ward. They had also gained control of the bacta facilities and storage tanks." Draelis takes a breath. "Loman Bacta, like many major medical research facilities, has on-site a variety of samples of toxins with which to test the quality of the bacta gel. So our simultaneous objectives were to secure the building, establish the absence of pathogens, and release the hostages. Given the nature of the insurgency and the intelligence that they were heavily armed with illegal weaponry, I issued the order to go in hard. On day 169, at 0400 hours local time, we made our initial aerial insertion via repulsorpack onto the roof of the Loman Bacta Facility." At a few key moments during Draelis' recounting, Del's head gives a very slight but crisp nod, no doubt a show of her taking particular note of certain details. She leans back in her seat and cups her chin in a hand, eyes scanning the screen of the console she's been using. "I believe we've both seen the reports of what actually occurred once your team made it inside," she murmurs thoughtfully, glancing between Draelis and Wrista. "We can go over it again for the recording, or I can simply attach the existing reports to this file when I bring it back to Ord Mantell - your choice, Captain Ipex," she says lightly, quirking a brow in question. Wrista folds her hands, nodding at Del. "I believe the remainder is straightforward enough, Ma'am." Then she looks back to Vengan. "However, if there are any facts not in the official reports or corrections you would like to enter into amendment, Captain, now is the time." "No ma'am," Draelis says, shaking his head. "We hit the ground running and immediately took a tissue sample from one of the terrorists in order to ensure that we didn't have to move into BNCP gear." BNCP standing for Biological, Nuclear, Chemical Protection. "It tested negative on-site, and we pressed forward with the assault after verifying we weren't risking further danger to the population at large by liberating potentially infected hostages. They were given a full toxicological screening once back at a secure medical location as well. That concluded the operation." He sits back, hands still resting on the desktop. "Honestly, it sounds to me - and I'm saying this on the record," Del adds, leaning in /real close/ to the audio pickup and lightly tapping it with a finger, "That you and your people did everything by the book." Settling back in her seat, she starts counting things off on her fingers. "Your assistance was requested through proper channels, you answered. You had heavily- and illegally-armed individuals holding hostages in a medical facility, you responded with due force. I'm sure that in a perfect world, all parties involved would have preferred stun settings - but this is not a perfect world," she says, with another jab of her finger at the audio pick-up. She must be imagining it's a certain someone whose head she wants to use for target practice right about now. "And I'm not going to fault you for putting the safety of innocent hostages before the safety of armed radicals." After a beat pause, she turns to Wrista, smiling almost /too/ brightly. "Unless you have anything else, I think that covers everything. I can take these findings and our recommendations back to the Ministry at any time." The twi'lek resists the temptation to sigh at Del, and simply nods crisply. "Just a few details I believe necessary for the record, ma'am," she replies, before turning back to Vengan. For all Wrista doesn't care for the politics that brought them all here, she's a twi'lek, and not devoid of the race's prediliction for politics and other complex machinations. Thusly, there are some points she feels it is best to make extremely clearly. "Captain, at several points you have made reference to 'insurgents' and 'resistance'. Some of these labels are misleading, so I would like you to take a moment to clearly define the individuals referred to." "My apologies, Captain Ipex," Draelis says, clearing his throat. "Chalk it up to the expedience of military terminology, which I will clarify, for the record." He leans forward an inch. "With the terms 'insurgents' and 'resistance', I am referring to those individuals currently operating outside the designated moral and legal parameters of both the ethics of the New Republic, and the constitutional charter which the Galactic Senate has signed- and agrees is the universal standard for good conduct and behaviour among all civilized beings. This is a constitution that my oath as an officer and a Marine requires me to uphold against all enemies, foreign or domestic." "An insurgency, in military parlance, is any group of armed and violent sentient beings who are engaged in riotous civil disobedience outside the aforementioned boundaries of ethical behaviour. Specifically, in this case, I am addressing those individuals who freely associate themselves with the actions and attendant attitudes of the hostile sentients that were engaged during the assault on Loman Bacta Facility and have since been identified as members of the Quarren Survivalist Party. However, I would extend this idenfier to any individual or group who believes that violence against peaceful members of the New Republic is the most expedient means for social reform." Jarheads have a reputation for being thick-skulled, but Draelis makes the point here that directness can be easily parlayed into expert precision. He nods once and leans back in his seat again. Del inclines her head to Wrista and settles in to listen, seeming rather pleased by what she's hearing. Once Draelis finishes, she gives Wrista a silent, questioning look. The twi'lek again nods thoughtfully. "You mention the 'Quarren Survivalist Party'. According to official information, their goal is stated to be freedom and justice for the Quarren people. Do you hold any opposition to this goal in the abstract, personally or as an officer of the Republic?" "The goal? No. Their methods? Absolutely." Draelis' jaw flexes, the only sign of a brief surge of anger. "This Republic was founded by an Alliance. An alliance of free planets, who came together because of the ideals they shared. Chief among these are the notions that no being is superior to another by virtue of species, class, gender, or creed. I've fought alongside freedom fighters on planets across the galaxy, and supported their pursuit for freedom. But always, it was an action we undertook as a very final resort when no political or diplomatic actions remained to us- and we only targeted the military supporting the regime. We -never- attacked civilians or soft targets, no matter which side they supported." Wrista again nods crisply and without inflection. "So were these citizens to pursue other, less harmful methods to that goal, you would support it without reservation, to the extent of protecting them by whatever means necessary including your own life, were it to come to that?" "I took an oath to that effect, Captain," Draelis replies. "I will defend the citizenry of the New Republic for as long as they choose to remain faithful to her Constitution and the good order which it requires." He falls silent. "Thank you, Captain," Wrista replies primly. "I am sorry to take up so much of your time going back over these events. It is unfortunate, but necessary. There is simply one final point of concern that must be addressed. You stated that the 224th Battalion-- your unit," she adds, knowing that the ultimate audience for this are laypeople-- "arrived on Dac at the request of the local civilian government. I realize that this is technically outside of your purview, Captain, but do you have any knowledge that would explain a portion of that government's claim that the combat actions at the Bacta Facility were unauthorized? Before you answer, I will add that I am not seeking speculation. If you have no factual knowledge of the discrepancy, that will be acceptable for the purposes of this investigation." "I have no factual knowledge of this, Captain," Vengan replies, eyebrows hiking. "That's so far beyond my realm of authority that it would be hearsay, at best. However, given the writ of suspension of posse comitatus, there must have been some member of the government involved, willingly or not. It is not an action undertaken lightly, if my studies in Galactic politics have not led me astray. However, that is just speculation on my part." He shrugs at Del. The diminuative twi'lek marine bobs her head crisply. "Thank you, Captain, that will do. If there is anything to be appended, you may contact the Brigade offices to file an official form in detail. I call this inquiry session closed, by me authority as the Investigating Officer of record. Captain Wrista Ipex, 73rd Brigade Staff, acting under authority of Brigadier General Alisia Kines on behalf of the New Republic Ministry of Defense and concerned citizens of the Republic." Wrista punctuates the formal closing with her thumb on the recorder controls, an audible click signaling it turning off. She pulls the datacard with the recording on it from its slot, and hands it over to Del. "Let's NOT do this again sometime." Draelis gets to his feet with a wry grin. "Let's not. I'll buy you a drink when all the hearings are done. Give my regards to the General, and let her know that the Sergeant Major said 'hello'." He offers a salute less rigid and more intimate than before, and with that, takes his leave of the group.
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