arrow_of_apollo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
arrow_of_apollo) wrote2007-05-15 02:16 pm
arrow_of_apollo) wrote2007-05-15 02:16 pm
Entry tags:
EM May 2007 - Performance Review ((RP for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
number_eight))
No more clocks, no more countdowns.
A little less than twenty-four hours before, the fleet had finally stepped down to Condition Two. Lee immediately sent half of his flight wing to their racks, and every one of them had wanted to kiss his boots for it. Two hours after that, they had stepped down to Condition Three. Lee put every pilot except the ones on CAP back to the duty lockers. As CAG, he had been completely within his rights to have called it a day even back at Condition Two. Instead, he stayed on duty and took the first CAP rotation instead.
Kara had nearly had to haul him over her shoulder to get him back to his own rack after he landed.
He'd gotten something like nine straight hours of sleep, unheard of for Lee Adama. After he was finally freshened up, he'd reported for the debrief with the Commander (and wasn't that going to be the worst part of the duty). His father's instructions were crystal clear: no matter what, military discipline needed to be maintained. Procedure and protocol were to be followed to the letter, and no slack was to be given. More than ever, they needed to stand strong, not bow to the new pressures of life on the run.
Typical, thought Lee. When things go wrong, tighten your grip. Not that he disagreed so much with the theory, it was more an amazement at the double-standard of it all. The only thing Bill Adama had never tightened his grip on was his own family.
Procedure and protocol. Lee made it his first order of business to return to business as usual. His predecessor, Maj. Spencer had been just about to start the round of personnel reviews shortly after the Galactica's decommissioning, and since he was following protocol and needed to get face-to-face with his pilots anyway, Lee began scheduling the meetings. Already he'd done four that day and even the jet fuel that passed for mess hall coffee was starting to lose its potency.
He picked up the folder for his fifth and final review for the day. The top of the service jacket read "Valerii, Sharon" and bore a sticker with a Lieutenant's rank insignia. He flipped through the slim pickings inside: photograph (was every female aboard this ship attractive?), a couple of previous performance reviews (Acceptable to Exceeds Expectations in every category, but with notes on Technical Skills), and her final Academy transcript. Valerii, or "Boomer", he reminded himself, was about as green as a pilot got. Hopefully, this wouldn't take long.
A knock sounded at the hatch of the small office off the briefing room he'd commandeered as his own for these reviews.
"Come," he said clearly.
A little less than twenty-four hours before, the fleet had finally stepped down to Condition Two. Lee immediately sent half of his flight wing to their racks, and every one of them had wanted to kiss his boots for it. Two hours after that, they had stepped down to Condition Three. Lee put every pilot except the ones on CAP back to the duty lockers. As CAG, he had been completely within his rights to have called it a day even back at Condition Two. Instead, he stayed on duty and took the first CAP rotation instead.
Kara had nearly had to haul him over her shoulder to get him back to his own rack after he landed.
He'd gotten something like nine straight hours of sleep, unheard of for Lee Adama. After he was finally freshened up, he'd reported for the debrief with the Commander (and wasn't that going to be the worst part of the duty). His father's instructions were crystal clear: no matter what, military discipline needed to be maintained. Procedure and protocol were to be followed to the letter, and no slack was to be given. More than ever, they needed to stand strong, not bow to the new pressures of life on the run.
Typical, thought Lee. When things go wrong, tighten your grip. Not that he disagreed so much with the theory, it was more an amazement at the double-standard of it all. The only thing Bill Adama had never tightened his grip on was his own family.
Procedure and protocol. Lee made it his first order of business to return to business as usual. His predecessor, Maj. Spencer had been just about to start the round of personnel reviews shortly after the Galactica's decommissioning, and since he was following protocol and needed to get face-to-face with his pilots anyway, Lee began scheduling the meetings. Already he'd done four that day and even the jet fuel that passed for mess hall coffee was starting to lose its potency.
He picked up the folder for his fifth and final review for the day. The top of the service jacket read "Valerii, Sharon" and bore a sticker with a Lieutenant's rank insignia. He flipped through the slim pickings inside: photograph (was every female aboard this ship attractive?), a couple of previous performance reviews (Acceptable to Exceeds Expectations in every category, but with notes on Technical Skills), and her final Academy transcript. Valerii, or "Boomer", he reminded himself, was about as green as a pilot got. Hopefully, this wouldn't take long.
A knock sounded at the hatch of the small office off the briefing room he'd commandeered as his own for these reviews.
"Come," he said clearly.
no subject
"I... I'm Sharon Valerii. My parents died in an accident on--" She shook her head. The response had become almost automatic. Strange. "I'm just a Raptor pilot who bunles up her landings. Ask anyone; I'm practically infamous for them."
But, then Captain Adama stood, and she stood right away, at attention. Until he said he wanted to eat with her. Oh my gods, he wanted to eat with her! Oh, she could ask him all sorts of things, like his various missions and things that she hadn't been able to write about in her paper!
"Yes, sir!" She saluted with a smile. Everyone would be jealous to see her eating with the son of Commander Adama!
Chief? Chief Who?
no subject
Returning the young woman's salute, it was tough not to smile at her exuberance. Lee was sure he'd never been a rook that excited, but then he'd taken a lot different road than Sharon Valerii. In any case, he shuffled the papers of her service records back together, filed them and stood, letting the younger pilot lead the way out of the room.