Participants:
| Scene Title | FNG |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Liz introduces a new member to the fold. |
| Date | December 11, 2010 |
The nerve center of FRONTLINE's activity is the operations center. Built into a space that was once a production line and looms, now a central network of computers and monitoring equipment is connected to local and federal alert systems, including satellite imaging of New York City and active traffic analysis patterns displayed on metal framework containing large LCD screen monitors. Everythin in here has a strong industrial feel, with bracketed shelving of black-painted metal.
A loft just above the intelligence center is accessed by a pair of staircases near the entrance, and the loft houses the armory, where FRONTLINE's tactical equipment and military arsenal is stored under lock and key. A doorway on the loft leads to the tower, which contains recreational and living spaces.
Despite the fact that it's a weekend, the FRONTLINE Operations Center is always at work. Sometimes with just a skeleton crew, sometimes with more. Today there are two technicians monitoring the equipment and the director is alternating between handling her paperwork and phone with walking the floor of the center to peer over the shoulders of the techs. It makes them a little uneasy — she rarely hovers, generally relying on them to do their jobs adequately. But she's been in quite a mood this week.
Standing behind them wearing a pair of comfortable low-rise blue jeans topped by a long-sleeved, V-necked top, the blonde is unquestionably the woman in charge. There's something in the way she carries herself and the techs check silently with her to be sure there's no problem before moving on that tells anyone who looks. Elisabeth nods to one of them and turns to head back toward her office, telling him, "O'Reilly should be here within the hour. When she arrives, have her sent to my office."
Her sneakers make no sound on the floor as she moves, and even as she goes, there is a guard near the perimeter who calls in to let the ops center know that a visitor is en route to the door. Which is relayed even as Liz gets to the door, and so instead of leaving the center she stop and waits for the new arrival.
And soon after this all happens, a new face appears on the scene. Dressed in a distinctly military uniform, three stripes on her shoulders marking her as an NCO with the rank of sergeant. Well, or that's what her rank was in the United States Army. Her shoulder-length hair is done perfectly neat, and all in all, she seems to be striving for perfection.
And soon enough, Zavia is at the entrance to the facilities. She makes her presence known by whatever means seem obvious… not that she didn't expect them to be unaware of her presence already, and stands at attention, waiting for someone to pick her up.
Elisabeth gets a faint smile at the corners of her mouth. The hazards of being handed an everyone from a military background. "At ease, O'Reilly," she says as she comes forward to meet the newest face. "I'm Elisabeth Harrison. Welcome to FRONTLINE Manhattan." She holds out her hand. "We're not a military unit, so attention and such is not required here."
As the magic words are said, Zavia steps down from attention and assumes a slightly more relaxed - but still professional - posture, and smiles. "Understood, ma'am." She speaks, extending her hand to meet Elisabeth's and shake it. "Thank you for the welcome." As the hand is released, Zavia looks around, "I assume you have received all necessary data on my person and my ability, ma'am?"
"I have," Elisabeth says. "Come on, I'll show you around. Most of the squad's out on the ground right now. We don't keep exactly regular work hours, which I'm sure you're used to having come from a combat field. For today, there are two monitors on duty," she gestures behind her, "and me. It's a relatively quiet day, all in all. Bring your gear, we'll drop it in the barracks on the way through."
Zavia nods to Elisabeth, "Yes, ma'am. My gear is in the truck, be back ASAP." And that said, she goes on to the truck that dropped her off, picks up her pack, and heads back to Liz. "I'm ready." She smiles again, "And all that makes sense." She nods with a smile "And yeah, irregular hours aren't exactly new for me."
Elisabeth walks to the outer door with her and waits, then smiles as Zavia returns. "So… how much did they give in the briefing on the way here? I'd hate to repeat myself," she says as she leads the way toward the barracks. "I assume that you already know we expect you to live on the base, though if you also want a residence out in town, it's doable."
"Not an awful lot, I'm afraid. Just the things everyone knows about Frontline." Zavia answers, smile still present. "And yeah, I heard I had to live on the barracks. No big deal, I already lived on another barracks anyway, and I don't have a whole lot of stuff to stock in such a residence, so I really doubt I'd need it." The medic gives a broad smile, "I did hear rumours about some fancy combat armour."
Elisabeth smirks. "Yeah… definitely going to be some fun. I'm going to send you for a one-week intensive training course in Annapolis, and then the second week of training will be here." Since things have settled, she's fine with handling the second week of training on-site though the intention had been two full weeks in Annapolis.
"So basically," Liz says, "Right now the entire team is pretty much newbies. We lost the first Squad 01 to the riots. So no one has much more than a month with us already. You'll be the FNG for a while, but I'm sure JJ will appreciate that. He and Felix Ivanov are the only males on the squad, and the rest of us just kick their asses into oblivion," she teases.
"Ah, yeah… the riots. I think they chose me for here because of my role in there." Zavia smiles, "I kept at least one part of the city mostly safe… hard to riot when you're asleep." A wink is offered. "And I can deal with being the FNG, someone has to be, after all." A faint chuckle, "And only two guys? Heh, that's a new one."
There's an immediate nod from Elisabeth. "I read about that. Pretty damn useful, to my mind." She grimaces faintly. "I'm only just now starting to recover from blowing out my ability that day myself. Audiokinetic," she informs Zavia. As they reach the dorms, she gestures. "Pick a place that's got an open bunk and drop your stuff." She grins then. "And yeah… it's mostly okay except when the whole damn squad's PMSing at the same time. The guys hide."
"Yeah, it's useful, not as lethal as some abilities, but it's quite usable." Zavia grins, "Perhaps even more usable than lethal abilities, because you can always execute a disabled enemy, but you can't revive a dead person you took out on accident." A pause before she continues, "And yeah, I can imagine that could get nasty. And I know that if I were a guy, I'd hide as well."
"I prefer the nonlethal approaches anyway," Elisabeth says. "Our primary charter here is PROTECT. So…" Elisabeth waits for her to pick a bunk and head back. "Here's the short-short version of my background and expectations. I was a cop for a decade. In spite of the fact that we're under martial law," she says as they walk toward the rec area, "if you discharge a firearm, you better be prepared to give me justifications. It sounds like that order won't be too much an issue for you, which means you'll fit in well. At the bottom of it all, I think we're all a good bit wierded out that we're basically fighting a war on home soil."
"So do I, ma'am. Lethal violence is always a last resort." Zavia smiles still, although she seems to dislike violence a little, weakening her smile. "And yes, it's a damn shame we're fighting here. But if we have to, then that's how it'll be… even if I would've preferred it wasn't necessary." A smile then, "But I'm sure every single one of us agrees with that, right?"
A sharp nod accompanies that. Each person who comes into this squad, thus far, at least seems on board with that idea. Elisabeth gestures Zavia into the rec area. "Glad we're working under the same assumptions." She smiles. "This is the rec area. Generally you'll find people lounging around in here. Some days more than others," she admits. She herself perches on the arm of a sofa. "Let's see… the short-short version of my expectations is that you conduct yourself as you would in any other team. I'm a pretty lenient leader in that I don't mind answering questions about why we're doing things, but as always you should choose your moments to ask — I know I don't have to tell you that the middle of combat isn't a good time." It's rhetorical. That's pretty much a given. "I expect that even if you don't like your teammates you find a way to work with them. And I expect if you're having problems, you talk to me. And that includes if you're having a problem with me or something I'm doing. I'm here a lot, but there will be any number of occasions that I'm tied up with the bullshit political side of this job. Like you guys, I'm still somewhat learning the ropes. Whenever I deem it appropriate, I'll be boots on the ground with you all."
Liz pauses. "I can't think of what else to tell you immediately. Do you hae anything to ask?"
Zavia listens to the briefing, even if it's less of a formal one than she's used to. "I don't have any questions at the moment, ma'am. If you don't have anything else to say, can I get leave to find a bunk and unpack my stuff, ma'am?" Her tone is professional… she'll likely warm up a little once she gets to know everyone better.
"Feel free," Elisabeth says. "You've got open access to the base and I'll be back forth from my office. Get familiar with the layout of the land. And don't unpack too much — you'll be shipping out Monday morning for Annapolis," she says with a smile. "The up side is that we have a private plane at your disposal for going back and forth as much as you like. So not to worry, there will be plenty of time to get to know everyone."