| A Bloody Mess |
| Summary: | That's what the hangar is, figuratively and literally, in the aftermath of the most recent Cylon assault. |
| Date: | 11 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Enter the Swarm 2: Return of Swarm directly precedes this log |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Post-Holocaust Day: #350 |
| The single largest rooms on the Cerberus are the hangar decks. Each flight pod consists of two stacked landing bays with adjoined decks and hangars, which along with computer-assisted landings results in a faster Viper recovery rate. Mirror images of each other, these two huge areas are located on the flight pods. The inboard sides of the deck, closest to the ship's main hull, are lined with parking and maintenance bays for Vipers and Raptors based aboard the battlestar. The outboard side of the deck contains the launch tubes used by the Vipers for standard deployment. Huge blast doors seal the deck into four sections, each one containing an elevator that leads up to the flight deck directly overhead. The fore-most section contains an elevator system that leads towards Aerospace Fabrication. |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
Andrea wins the race to the Deck, weee! Coming in at more or less full speed, her bird crashes into the deck, tumbling a couple of times before coming to a rest at the end of the hangar bay. Fire, steam, all the fun stuff of a catastrophic landing. Hosedown could use a hosedown, if anyone's got an extinguisher handy…
Wade made a good landing on one of the elevators and is now on Deck level. The man at this point doesn't really wait for anything, he just unlocks the Canopy, opens the Cockpit and pretty much jumps down. It hurts, yes it does. But that doesn't stop him, he stands up again and starts running towards Hosedown's crashed bird. "Help!" screams the man but can't be heard. He quickly takes off his helmet and screams again "Help! Medic and fire support!" On the way, he turns a little and grabs the closest fire extinguisher he can find, resuming his sprint while he turns the knob and starts the 'let's kill this fire' moment. The only thing he does, is to clear himself a path so he can reach Hosedown's cockpit, which he starts to hit with his fist, trying to pull it open afterwards.
The call for med-staff had been heard by Circe and Aurelia as well as a few others yet as the rest of the staff is waking or shifting forward their schedules. Having grabbed her re-prepped bag, Circe arrived on the deck just after the first few Vipers landed.
It was now near the end of her shift and the corpsman is looking rather weary. The sight of the Vipers again give her the extra adrenaline rush she needs to put that pep in her step. She grasps at the loose strands of hair around her cheeks and tucks them haphazardly behind her ears before she starts forward for the first few landed. She looks back to Aurelia. "Just keep clear and be ready to give a hand!" Says the corpsman as the deck is in full tilt, sounds booming.
As the deck hands get to Hosedown's Viper, she follows after and hears the screaming from Drips. Her gaze slips to him and she studies the man carefully as she can do nothing till the patient is out.
Classy manages to bring his badly damaged Raptor to the deck, but it's hardly what anyone would consider a proper trap. He doesn't quite do the cartwheels and whatnot that Andrea does, but there's a very hard _thump_ followed by a prolonged rollout that sends the boxy little ship into the barrier.
Khloe bounds out of her shredded Petrels Viper, landing on the deck with an unsteady thud. "Frak, forgot I was burned!" Shouts the Captain, grabbing at her right side. "Sitrep!" She calls out, limping towards where the more injured Vipers are collecting… including Hosedown's crashed.
Roland tosses his helmet out of the cockpit, and swings off the ladder. He hits the deck running, moving past Khloe looking for another extinguisher to toss to Wade.
Well, banging on the cockpit canopy won't be too necessary. It already has a rather large hole. Through it, Hosedown's body can be easily seen, with large shards of glass and or metal sticking out of her leg, her chest, and even her helmet. Her faceplate is broken, and there is a LOT of blood.
With that hole on the canopy, Wade just moves his arm inside and pulls the manual override, lifting that damn thing open "Come on girl…." says the man to Hosedown as he hurriedly unhooks her from her seat. "Bring something to transport her!" yells the Viper pilot at whoever is listening to what he says. He dives his arm in and slides them underneath Hosedown. "Come on girl… come on… don't you frakking dare…" He lifts her from her seat, nice and easy, making sure to not cause more damage. He looks into her helmet and then moves his hand to the hook on the back of her neck, slooooowly getting it off of her.
Several harried deckhands dash for Andrea's broken bird. "It's like non-stop pop quizzes," one of them mutters.
A sharp whistle from Circe and she lifts her voice. "STRETCHER! HERE!" that is enough said and there is a shifting of bodies. One is brought about and over towards the Viper where Andrea is being extracted from. "Lieutenant… stretcher is on its way. Support her neck." She intones and sets down her bag. She draws herself up as well, meaning help lower the woman down. She growls as she pulls herself up and she skids closer to his side. "Here…" Her eyes hold on the helmet and she breathes in deeply. "Don't take it off."
Aaand, one of the last Vipers to make it safely into the tubes is relatively unscathed, and undamaged. Well, at least in comparisons to the ones whose operators /obviously/ need medical attention. As crew are dispatched towards McQueen's Viper, levers are pulled and the canopy pops, revealing a helmeted, flightsuited — figure. Which would be said McQueen. At least he seems undamaged, from the outside.
Marko has to wait for the ground crew to get the hatch pried open before he and Classy stagger their way out of the damaged bird. "Remind me to thank the Cylons for a lovely evening." Marko says, blinking and rubbing his forehead.
Having assembled a hasty trauma team at the call for medical personnel on deck, Andromeda comes sprinting onto the chaotic scene. She appears pale and grim but not panicked, sending the nurse with her off to begin triage, then hot-footing it over to the most dramatic and obvious casualty — Hosedown's crippled plane, and the pilot within. She and the medic with her maneuver the board up to the shattered cockpit at Circe's call.
Along with McQueen, Devlin is among the last to land, his plane completely, incongruously untouched. He tries to land it as much out of the way as possible, and he hops out quickly, taking the clipboard to begin postflight but stepping around the nose to watch those still coming in. "How is Hosedown?" he asks, then spots McQueen arriving and gives a wave before heading over, promising a nearby deckie, "I'll do it in a just a second, I swear." He stays well back from the chaos, going only close enough to ask people who might have a better vantage, "How's Hosedown looking? She made it in, right?"
Post-flight checks are far less exciting than infernos of aerocraft crunchiness, but they still need to be done. Trask finishes inside the Raptor and commences his walk-around inspection. "No hits," he informs a following Specialist. "Comms were frakked. I did a quick-fix." The deckhand knows to make sure proper repairs are made, so nothing further is added.
People who don't have time to bleed lack organization skills. Hosedown is bleeding something fierce, mainly from the wound to her head, though the wounds to her chest and leg are doing their best to catch up. She is breathing, at least, if that gurgling sound she is making counts as breathing.
Khloe makes her way towards Trask, helmet under her good arm. She's limping something fierce; no external damage, so she's likely just irritated her existing burns. "Captain, can you re-launch for CAP? CIC's going to be screaming any minute now." She turns her gaze towards Hosedown's Viper and the commotion surrounding it. "These three-hash Raiders are going to kill us all if this keeps up. I hope… she's…" And then the woman grows quiet.
Wade looks up at Circe and swallows "Circe…" simply says the man and then he nods quickly, leaving her helmet alone and aiding Circe as much as he can, to ease Hosedown on the stretcher. He is breathing rather heavily right now and his flight suit is covered on Hosedown's blood. She'll have to live to go for that beer! And pay the dry cleaning of course. He looks over his shoulder and makes eye contact with Khloe for one or two seconds, going back to look at Hosedown after that.
Roland slows to a stop as he's too late to do much good. He drops the extinguisher to the deck, and moves slowly watching the activity around Hoesdown's Viper.
As the crew unbuckles and frees McQueen from his metal labyrinth, the helmet is pulled off and he lumbers down the attached ladder. He is very much undamaged, in fact, and looks over towards Devlin. "Lookie here." He starts, tentatively. "Yeh, uh — I think everyone who made it, made it." He points over towards the medical team and squints a little for some reason. "Well, I'll be damned." Back towards Devlin now. "This is… Very bad, I think. Did you notice somethin' about those Raiders?"
Devlin glances down at his clipboard and starts filling it out as he keeps an eye on the situation at Andrea's viper and glances up at McQueen as well. "Yeah, those same three slashes," he nods, "Just like yesterday, 'cept this time on the wing instead of the nose. Right wing, mostly, seemed like, but maybe not all?" He shakes his head, admitting, "I wasn't really looking hard. Sorry, I gotta do my walk-around real quick, they might need me back on CAP since I think I didn't take any damage at all." He moves the couple steps back to his plane to begin checking it over visually, calling back to the older pilot, "Can you see how it's going over there? I don't wanna get in the way."
Looking down to the doctor, Circe shakes her head as to communicate something as she reaches out to help the other pilot with his grasp on his flightmate. "Alright, keep her steady. We can't move her too much, get that stretcher lifted." She looks to the others and as it is drawn up to meet Andrea more readily, Circe shifts a little to accommodate, helping by getting the woman's legs straightened and onto the stretcher. She tells the doctor as if it will help the woman who would know more than she would. She scoots closer and before they lower her she gives a look over the helmet and she nods to Wade, the blood wasn't something that bothered her, not as it even stained her. It was the desperation in the voicing of her name. She had to do something. Sliding down as the lower the woman, she kneels and begins to work at the helmet, slamming her hand into the bag to draw out the gauze and bandages to get a good start on the head wound. As the helmet comes free, she lifts a hand to remove the glass impaled. She begins to place the gauze over the wound to the woman's head. Slipping a hand beneath at the base, she lifts and begins to wrap to get pressure. Blood still seeps through but it isn't dripping like it was. Hope.
With that Circe moves for her chest, "Doctor we have a major head wound, probably internal bleeding." She starts and says this as she roughly assesses during her movements. The arm wound is wrapped as best she can but she seems to be more worried about the chest wound. Gauze is brought out and she presses her hand down over it, her hazel eyes flashing up at Andromeda.
Marko and Classy get held up for a few until the medics can check them out. A few minutes that are mostly spent standing around marveling at the fact they're still alive. Finally, they're cleared and waste no time tearing ass over to Andrea's stricken bird and the crowd around it.
"Poppy." The look on Trask's face is of the 'oh, hey, I was just about to look for you but here you are' kind of surprise. "I can an' I will, as soon as we conclude post-flight checks and make necessary swaps. Classy's bird is a bit of a disaster." Dark eyes flit to Khloe's side. "To state the obvious, you need to get to Medical." And then a look to Hosedown's downed Viper. As it was with Bubbles, the edges of his eyes tighten into a faint wince. "Well, maybe that blow'll knock some sense into 'er." Facetious as ever in light of terrible events. It's just how he rolls. "Those Raiders, though…" he concurs with the other Captain. "Once you're cleared by Medical, pull what you can and start reviewing. I'll swing by later with my notes from yesterday's skirmish."
"Sorry. Things like this throw me for a frakkin' loop, you see?" McQueen starts, as he too meanders over to grab a clipboard and takes a slight gander at his checklist. "Um. Yeh, although I don't think they'll necessarily love me buttin' in any more than you, all things considered." He discards the helmet gingerly onto an adjacent shelf and starts to unzip his flight suit with his free hand, before lamely heading towards the direction of the injured-pilot commotion. He stops momentarily to wipe his matted hair from his brow.
<Intercom> Attention! Set Condition Two throughout the ship.
The doctor stays out of the way, reaching to render assistance where needed but letting the EMT do her job. Once the patient is stabilized, Andromeda states simply, "Sickbay's prepped for trauma surgery. The sooner we can get her there, the better." She double checks that Hosedown is strapped in and immobilized, in addition to bandaged, then nods to the medical folks. "Let's lift her down now, on three. One, two, THREE."
And down comes Hosedown, the stretcher upon which she rests transferred quickly to the capable hands of the trauma team.
"I want to stay out of medical's way to let the needy get treated first," Khloe says in response to Trask, her own gaze glued to the proceedings surrounding Hosedown. "I'm sure I just opened and irritated my burns; I'll live for an hour. She gets priority. But yes, once I'm checked out, I'll be in the ready room reviewing the footage."
"What's the story with Hosedown?" Marko asks the first person he encounters. "How bad is it?" He sound genuinely worried.
Wade finally stands up after the medics take Hosedown away. He looks around the place, blinking at all the people surrounding the scene. He sees Poppy again and clears his throat before speaking to her "Captain, am I needed for Double CAP?" Because it's Condition Two, yo. If he doesn't, he'll go check on Hosedown, or at least stand outside the operation room.
As the team starts to carry her off and Circe's bandages all that is helping her at the moment, the medic wipes the back of her arm to her face and stares a moment. Gathering herself slowly, she looks about the bay. Again, another day. She gazes down at the gloves painted with Andrea's blood and hooks a fingers, curling them off and inside out as she stuffs them into a side pocket and reaches down for her bag and a new pair. She looks to the question asked, "She is in good hands." What else do you say? The medic looks then to see what pilots yet are in need.
Roland clears his throat, and glances from Wade to Poppy and back, "I'll take it. Just get me a bird. That one took a few rounds in the wing. I'll fly that CAP Drips."
Devlin nods to McQueen, shrugging, "Yeah, I get it, man." He peeks over the ship again as Andrea is loaded onto a stretcher and they prepare to carry her away, and then he nods, "Yeah, not going to do any good getting in the way. This is totally clean. I don't understand." He shakes his head, running both hands through his hair as he passes the paperwork off to a deckie, "They didn't even take a shot at me," he says to McQueen, "It's like I wasn't even there. How does that happen?" He shakes his head again, and then says, "I should go volunteer for CAP, probably. I'll be right back. He heads towards Khloe, lifting a hand to get her attention, nodding briefly at Wade. "Poppy, sir," he greets her, "Just wanted to volunteer for CAP if needed. My viper's good to go, even."
"Trust me," the other SL faintly smirks, "If you're in the way, they'll tell you. Awesome as you are at so many things, let's leave triage to the trained professionals. Besides, it's not very nice to pre-emptively frak off before they tell you to." Which is Bootstrap's way of telling Khloe to limp her way to Sickbay. With the arrival of all the volunteers, he adds, "We launch after post-flight and swap-outs." The unspoken part is 'so, you better do that right now if you have yet to do so'.
"If you're capable, Drips, I could use you, but hold on. Let's see how things play out. Just stand ready," Khloe advises Wade. At Devlin offering, she inclines her head slightly. "It's different when it's not your wife, eh? I can use you, too, Decoy. Both of you go take a leak or something and make sure your birds are ready to go."
"Me and Classy are fine, physically." Marko pipes up. "If we can get another bird, we'll be ready to launch inside of five minutes." he says. "Just give us a chance to use the head first."
"Yes. I suppose you do at that." McQueen responds, absently as he amends, "Some days, we get lucky. One way or another." There's a thin smirk on the man's lips, adding to the lines on his face but there's no warmth in it as he continues on his way, glancing briefly at the downed form of Andrea as well as the medical staff, doctor and medic, Andromeda and Circe alike.
"Yes," Devlin replies to Khloe simply, looking back to Wade instead, "Drips offered to take my spot yesterday, I'm offering to take his today. Post-flight's done," he tells Trask, "I didn't take any damage."
Wade looks at Khloe and stands by for the time being, he looks at his suit that is now covered in blood and then back to Khloe. However, his attention moves to Devlin and he offers a faint smile with a nod to the man. He appreciates that, he really does. Now that Khloe tells him that he has to go, the man nods firmly and adds "Would it be possible for me to get status reports on Hosedown? Over the radio. She's my wingmate after all."
Roland clears his voice again and moves over towards Wade, "I'll fly it Drips. I just need a Viper." He glances back toward his SL, "With your permission, Sir."
"Then get crackin' on the pre-flight, Decoy," is all Trask says. To Marko, "Now is not the time to be rubbin' one out." Yes, even now, wanking jokes are made. "But if you an' Classy absolutely cannot wait to jack each other off, make it quick." Then comes an address to the Deck at large, and the man knows how to project his voice in a chaotic hangar, "CAP LAUNCHES IN FIVE MINUTES."
Hearing the words from Drips as she passes to look over another one of the pilots, fixing her gloves as she moves, she nods her head. "I can make sure that happens if you need, Lieutenant." She looks between them all, bag hooked on her arm. Though Wade is colored in blood, Circe isn't much better. "The updates that is."
"Right, we'll cut down on the tonsil hockey, then." Marko chuckles as he and his pilot dash to the head to answer the call of nature, returning a few minutes later to start signing our another Raptor. "Anybody know what the status on Hosedown is?"
"Copy, Decoy. See you in four hours." Khloe then turns to face the rest of her volunteering pilots. "All of you, listen to me," she says in her authoritative voice. "You'll all have your chance to do your duty. I know that you'll do it well, and you'll die for this fleet if necessary. But what I need from you all the most right now is to check up your birds, pitch in where you can, even get some rest. Because those three-hash frakkers are going to come back." She swallows something back, replacing it with a scowl. "Get to your duties."
Khloe's order merely invokes an all-business salute towards Khloe. Roland looks a bit puzzled, or, well, truly befuddled, but he's more or less done talking here and goes off to indeed perform his post-flight checklist, thick brows knit.
"Yes, sir," Devlin nods to Khloe and then adds to Trask, "Sirs." He starts to head away, and then turns back to Wade, saying quietly, "I hope she's okay, dude. She's in my prayers." He steps away then, looking around and heading back towards McQueen. "Hey," he says, "Can you do me a favor and let Psyche know I'm okay, and will be back after CAP?"
Wade nods to Khloe and then looks at Devlin "Thanks man." He nods to him and says "Clear eyes and steady hands, I'm on Alert Mode. If those frakkers appear, I'll come to help you." He smiles a little bit and now looks at Roland "Thanks man, I appreciate you offering." He nods to him and then looks at his suit again "308 has no scratches, should anyone need to use it," says Wade to the group of Viper pilots around. Now, he turns around and makes his way to Sickbay.
Once the final details of the CAP rotations are settled, Bootstrap swaps out his dark green flightsuit for the oh so fashionable orange jumpsuit that's so popular with knuckledraggers. With the ease of someone who worked 6 years on the Deck, he gets crackin'.
To this, McQueen's head whips around just prior to himself wheeling about on one foot to study Devlin. "Oh. I suppose this means I'll have to brave the hazards of medical." And somewhere beneath all that fatigue and worry is a sort of vulpine smile. "I can do that."
Roland nods once to Wade as he speaks, and lets out a long breath. He moves back towards his Viper and the waiting deck crew.