PHD #209: Awk...ward
Awk…ward
Summary: A shift change on the Deck is interrupted by a Marine away team.
Date: 23 Sep 2041 AE
Related Logs: I Ain't Him
Players:
Damon Lysander Radcliffe Rian 
Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus
Post-Holocaust Day: #209
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

It's creeping close to the time where shifts change, the time of day where those who work day shift mill about, waiting to be cut free while those who work during the night start to go about their business, getting tools gathered and figuring out which ships need what worked on first. For Radcliffe, she's one of the latter. Tools already in their proper place in her toolbelt's pouches, she is currently standing before the whiteboard, going over what's written over it in order to see what needs to get done first.

It's only been a day since Damon canvassed the Deck crew for R&R down in Aerilon - and already there are eight people down there, enjoying their 48 hours off. Of course, that means the shift schedule has changed from eight-hour rotations to twelve-hours ones to keep work flowing - and this oncoming crew is the lucky first group to work the twelve-hour shift. Handovers are happening all over the floor; some are near the whiteboard, reading over the day's continuing work. The latter is where Damon makes his way to check progress and to see how much grumbling's going on. "Looks like the day crew did a pretty solid job," he says to nobody in particular, seemingly satisfied with all the checkmarks on that list.

Radcliffe quirks a quick grin, her eyes darting towards Damon when he makes his comment and then back to the board, her head bobbed in a nod a bit once she returns her attention to it. "Yup, which means this whole twelve hour shift thing is going to seem like it's a twenty-four hour one. You know…due to a lack of anything to do." Getting a good idea of what she needs to take care of, she turns away, her back facing the bulkhead the message board has been hung on, her expression playfully bored. "Can we break something so we can have something to keep us busy, Damon?"

"Break something and I'll break you," Damon growls - but with a smile. "If work is slow, I don't mind if people take an hour off here and there to go PT. But there's still plenty to be done, yeah? Besides, I'm sure we'll have more on our hands as CAPs come on." He fakes a quick one-two at Radcliffe to keep her on her toes. "Last thing I need is more paperwork to sign off on without reading. You guys are probably sneaking all sorts of stupid shit in your reports that I'm completely ignoring."

"Yes'ir," she quips while tossing him a playful salute, Brina all kinds of smiles now. "Anything you want done first," she asks after that; of the mindset that what he wants done over-rides what's passed down from the previous shift, she is willing to defer to him instead of relying on what someone else has to say. "Oh. Speaking of PT, should get you in the ring someday soon, Damon. Been a week or so since I last sparred. I am feeling a bit rusty." For her to go without working out like that for so long is not like her.

"Oh, fraggoff," Damon says when she mock-salutes him. "And you only wanna box me because you heard that I got shot in my good arm a couple weeks ago. Well too bad for you - I'm feeling a lot better now." Some more shadowboxing in Radcliffe's direction - and it shows that he's really not a boxer at all apart from the bare basics. "As for, y'know, actual work stuff, uhh…" He glances over the board again quickly. "This Raptor here, it's having some weird issues with its thrust mechanism. It responds real slow apparently, then lurches hard like it's kicking in all of a sudden. Take a look and see what you can figure out, yeah?"

Radcliffe bats at one of Damon's hands when he shadowboxes, shaking her head. "Nah. It's more that I've noticed you're putting on some weight in your advanced years. Thought I'd try to help by pounding it off of you." When the Raptor's mentioned she turns her head and hmms softly, the playful banter put away for now. "Could be a blockage in the fuel lines or something," she muses while shrugging. "I'll get to work on that right now." Of course this means that particular Raptor's going to be off the flight line for a while as this is not going to be a fast fix.

Damon pats his stomach. "If I'm puttin' on weight, it's because I've been sitting around with a pen in my hand instead of working the floor with a wrench," he mutters. "I'm not putting on weight, though, am I?" There he goes, getting all self-conscious now. Truth be told, he probably has put on a bit of weight, or at least lost some of his definition from the time that he's spent, well, shot-up. "Anyway, yeah, it could be a blockage. Nothing significant showed up in the post-flight checks, but I just wanted you to go over it just in case." Damon and Radcliffe are standing and bantering on the hangar bay floor by a massive whiteboard which serves as the Deck's daily to-do list; it's covered in writing of all shapes and colors. Looks like it's shift change time, with handovers happening left, right, and center.

Radcliffe raises a brow when the PO1 asks about his weight, that a bit surprising as well as amusing if how she's smiling is any indication. "Shit, Damon. When did you become a woman on me, huh? Next thing I know, you'll be asking me if your coveralls makes your ass look big." Rolling her eyes, she gets herself over to the Raptor, it stared at for a minute as she tries to figure out where to start. "I hope it's just a blockage," she grunts under her breath. "Can't afford to be down a bird." Getting out an allen wrench like tool, she begins the tedious work of removing a panel, taking great care in making sure the little screws are put into a pouch as they come free.

The clatter of boots on deck can be heard long before a small group of marines appeark. Corporal Amarath Rian leading the small squad of about five grunts all wearing black, helmets on and armed with typical riffles and whatever else may be in their hidden arsenal. With helmet tucked under her arm Rian's dark hair is loose about her face, eyes downcast on a clipboard in her hand, reading the paper attached to it. Making her way towards the Raptor that is already ready for boarding she turns and walks backwards, talking in a firm voice, "This isn't any drill, we're going down there to sweep the immediate area for threats and then set up sentinel. Keep your wits about you, remember your training and for frak sake no nervous friendly fire or I'll personally beat you upon return." Spinning on her heel she turns once more looking up from the clipboard after she hastily signs her name and passes it off to a crewman. Dark eyes glance to the deck crew, from Radcliffe over to Damon, pausing on him for a moment as breath gets stuck in her throat. "Something wrong with the bird? We were supposed to be breaking atmo less then five minutes ago," her voice attempts to keep the marine monotone but her huskiness is lessoned by her inability to keep eye contact with the Petty Officer.

"Hey, I can't afford to be gettin' fat. That don't make me a woman." Damon makes a face. He turns to face the sound of boots as Radcliffe starts pulling up a panel on the faulty Raptor. "This one's been having some problems," he says to Rian. "But we've got another one waitin' for you. Right over here." He indicates another Raptor, already done its pre-flight checks and ready to go. "You, uh, you feelin' better now?" he asks Rian after an awkward pause, rubbing the hair on the back of his neck.

"Whatever…" Radcliffe utters while trying to wrestle the unsecured panel free from its home on the bird, that made a little difficult as she's distracted by the Marines' arrival. "This isn't the only bird…" she starts to reply with but Damon beats her to the punch, making her answering unnecessary and redundent. Shrugging, she goes back to her work, muttering to herself as she does. With her mind on work, she lets the rest of what's going on around her kind of drift off into the background for the moment.

One arched brow rises higher then the other as Rian looks to Damon, managing to keep his gaze for a few seconds and answers a curt, "No." As the other deck hand gives her lip she tosses a firey look her way, giving a 'so what' twisted smirk. "But I'm at least cleared for active duty." Her voice is hard, obviously untrusting of the man now. Pulling on her helmet she leads the marines to the other Raptor, "Get in ladies, we don't have all frakkin day." She quips at them, watching them hop on the wing and enter the spacecraft.

"Well… fair enough," Damon mutters under his breath as he watches the Marines board. He's tensed up considerably since Rian arrived, and he doesn't seem to be willing to relax until she herself gets into the Raptor. As Lysander arrives, Damon gives him a nod in greeting and indicates the Raptor that the Marines are loading into. "How's the bird look inside?" he asks Radcliffe, glancing over to her work out of the corner of his eye.

Rian's dark eyes narrow beneath the visor of her helmet at the entrance of the Sergeant, the reflection off of the glass however does hide her expression well. Reaching up gloved hands switch on her com set, the thing crackling to life within her ear. "Nothing, Sarge," she speaks in regards to whatever 'something' he saw, monotone as she sweeps her hand aside towards the raptor. "You're late."

Catching Rian's look, Radcliffe sneers back and even goes as far as add an obscure gesture to it, one that's undoubtedly rude as frak if the expression upon her face it's coupled with is any indication. "Frakking Marines." Gritting her teeth once her annoyance has mostly passed, she goes back to what work has been assigned to her and she sticks her head into the space she just exposed. It's only Damon's voice that gets her to shake off the last of her peevishness and she twists, doing some kind of half-backbend so she can look at her boss at the same time she starts to give her appraisal of the fuel lines. "Not sure yet, Damon. Give me a few, huh?"

Lysander looks from Rian to Damon and back again, knitting his brows questioningly. He lets it go, whatever it was, and begins to step forward to join with the rest of the squad. A nodding lift of his head is given in return to Damon's nod and he offers a quick, snapping grin, "Sir," before moving along. There's a moment where he glances over his shoulder and in that moment he would like to say something, maybe, but the moment passes along just as quickly as it had arrived and he's then moving toward the motioned to Raptor. "Fashionably late at that," dryly and fairly offhandedly comments Garret.

Damon gives Radcliffe a little jab to the shoulder. "Keep your eyes on the fuel lines, that's a better use than glarin' at Marines, yeah?" he says quietly. It's not an admonishing tone - if anything, it's sympathetic. "They'll be outta your hair in a minute or two anyway." Lysander gets a politely clipped, "Sergeant," in reply - he doesn't correct the man for calling him 'sir'. "Listen," he says to Radcliffe, touching her lightly on the shoulder. "I gotta follow up on a couple things on the floor here, but I'll come back in a few to see what you think the problem is, OK?" And he's taking off across the floor toward a group of mechanics at work on a Viper.

Rian seems to ignore the late arriving marine then, taking a seat in the Raptor and waiting for the door to close in a mechanical hiss. Soon enough it closes and locks, the deck crew moving the bird out to the launch and within a few minutes the squad is off the Cerberus and into the atmosphere of Aerilon.

There is a sharp exhale of air from the other deck member at the jab, it causing her to tense. "Yeah, I'll leave them alone, Damon. And sure. I'll be at this for awhile so you know were to find me." Sighing, she listens to the Raptor as it's being moved to the launch tubes, that being when she can finally relax, and the first of the lines is loosened from it's connectors. Time for the fun to begin.

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