| Back on Deck |
| Summary: | Bannik returns to the Deck after his 96-hour exile and intra-department punishment. |
| Date: | 30 Oct 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Bad Bannik. |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| 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. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #246 |
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.
There's hammering coming from somewhere under one of the Raptors, a loud, rythmic banging that rings over the other noises thanks to the volume of it. A pair of orange-clad legs stick out from under it for as long as the racket continues only to be revealed as belonging to Radcliffe once she crawls out from under the bird. Greasey as frak, she looks like she's been crawling in the damned thing, not just working on it.
Bannik is on his 'normal duties' part of his shift today. The part that really sucks, the cleaning of civilian heads, the making sure each and every screw is tightened on this panel, that comes in his next eight hours. But so be it. He's in the front of the Raptor Radcliffe is working on, staring at a mess of tangled wires from the panel he's pulled out. "Did you think they could have frakked this one up any more, Radcliffe?" he calls out to the mechanical tech he's working with.
The crew is a little wary of Damon after the little scene that happened earlier today, where he called Bannik up before his coworkers and detailed the punishment he's to go through for the next fourteen days. And it's clear that Damon's a little on edge as well, maybe because everyone's giving him a wide berth and nervous near him. He's usually the Nice Guy, so it's a bit shocking to some when he flips the switch and goes back into Instructor Mode. So he just nods in greeting to Radcliffe and Bannik as he passes by them.
Brina looks at Damon before moving, trying to catch up with the PO while mentally bracing herself. "How long is the frakking hard ass act going to continue," she asks quietly, trying to keep the question for Damon's ears and no one else, treading very lightly as she doesn't want to risk gaining his ire. Bannik is then regarded, her footfall halting when she turns to respond to him. "Oh, I am sure they could if they wanted to, Bannik. Just be careful they don't hear you ask that otherwise they just might decide to show you just how much they can screw shit up."
Radcliffe reachs up to rub a temple which only manages to smear more grime on her face, making her look all the more like the grease monkey she is. "I'll go and get some wires out of one of the scrappers in a moment, Bannik." Cocking a hip to the side, Brina folds her arms about herself while looking at the deck chief, shrugging as she regards him with not even so much as a smile upon her face. "People think you're going to because you've been wandering around looking like you might bite heads off, Damon. That's all…" Shrugging, she adds in answer, "Looks like some of the wiring is fragged and I think the hydraulics are in need of being repaired. On top of that? It can use a real good cleaning."
"Petty Officer." Bannik pokes his head out of the Raptor, nodding to his boss. Well, his boss's boss. And no, Bannik will not call him 'Damon.' Not right now. "It's not really technical. It's just ripping out the wires and making sure that we get working ones in here. And I can get the wires out of the scraps, Radcliffe. It'll be a good project."
Damon goes stone-faced when Bannik addresses him, which probably plays all the more into Radcliffe's point that he looks like he's going to bite people's heads off. "Specialist Bannik," he responds in kind. The voice that speaks is not one of friendship but one of authority. But it softens again when he speaks to Radcliffe. "You think you'll be able to hammer that out with what we got, or are we gonna have to requisition more stores? We already got our parts run today, so it might not come in until tomorrow or the day after if you need stuff."
"If you think you can do that on top of your other duties then alright, Bannik. But if it starts to look like it might wind up being too much or a distraction let me know and I'll take over." Grimacing, Brina rubs a shoulder and then the back of her neck, trying to get the kinks out of her muscles. Working in confined spaces makes for achy Radcliffes. "I think we should have enough but if we wind up needing more I'll start the paperwork." Trying to be especially nice, the offer made to Damon's given with as much of a smile as she can muster.
"I'm an electronics guy. Wiring's my thing. Need me to bang out dents? Well, that's a little outside my area of core competence." Bannik looks between Damon and Radcliffe. "But yeah. I'll be fine. I can do it between trips to the civilian freighter doing maintenance and repair." Those 'extra duties' he's got — at least some them. "How are you two doing? Need anything done?"
Damon nods in response to Radcliffe, and his lips tug upward into a small wry grin that looks more self-mocking than anything else. "All right. If you do end up doing up paperwork, send it off to Shiner. He's my administration bitch two days a week while he heals, and on forklift the rest of the days." Her smile does seem to release some of the tension in him, though, and he relaxes a little more. "Nothing from me right now," he says to Bannik. Probably for the best, since he's the one coordinating the Specialist's extra duties for the next two weeks. The last thing he needs to do is add more to his normal-work plate.
Radcliffe nods slowly. "Alright, Bannik. Consider it your job, then." Brina smiles at the young man but this time she can't make it stick and it's swiftly replaced by a slight frown instead. Turning herself around again, she cops a squat on the wing stub of the very aircraft they've been working on, looking very much like she needs a good long break and a nap. "Okay. I'll pass it on to Shiner, then. Thanks, Damon." A pause and then she shakes her head, chuckling faintly. "Need shit to stop breaking."
"If shit stopped breaking, we'd be out of a job, Radcliffe." Bannik leans a little bit in the doorframe of the Raptor. A minute's rest, perhaps. "How's Shiner doing? Man, I thought we were going to lose him." Bullet to the neck and all of that.
"Yeah. You know we are here for you, Petty Officer," says the Specialist, looking over at the older fellow. "Even if it means just fixing the birds and making sure things are together."
Damon returns Radcliffe's gaze with an inscrutable one that even Cidra might be proud of. The only answer to her offer is a quick nod, so small it might've been just a twitch of the neck. "And you guys do that well," he says in response to Bannik's words. "Stay at it. I won't keep you any longer." He starts to walk off, but stops after a couple paces and looks back. "…Thanks," he adds before continuing on to his office.
Radcliffe watches Damon go before she flops back, the back of the cranial she is wearing thunking noisily against the body of the Raptor as her head bumps against it. "I swear," she begins to mutter but thinks twice of what she was about to say, instead falling quiet while looking up at the ceiling.
Bannik shakes his head as well. "Eh. Well. People are people, Radcliffe. Not do much about that." He glances over at her. "But how are you holding up? You doing okay?" He has concern in his voice.
Two deckhands are currenly working on a Raptor - well, one is. The other out of the duo is sprawled out on her back on the wing, staring intently at the ceiling as they talk between tackling tasks. "I'm fine," Radcliffe eventually says. "Just want to figure out what's going on. Above and beyond that whole…" She waves a hand, indicating all that's going on with Bannik via a vague gesture.
Cidra strides across the hangar deck, in full flight gear, helmet tucked under her arm. She's on the next CAP going out and her Raptor is due for a pre-flight check. Though it won't be the Raptor Bannik and Radcliffe are working on/lounging on, her course does take her in that direction.
"What's going on with regard to what?" asks Bannik, furrowing his brow at Radcliffe. "I mean, there's a lot of things going on. You might have to narrow it down." And then he notes the incoming CAG. He hops out of the doorframe he's been leaning against, running after her. "Major! Ready for your pre-flight?"
"With him," Radcliff answers while sitting up, the Major's presence made known by Bannik's greeting of her. Standing swiftly, she gives Cidra a smile and a salute, holding it for a bit. "Sir. How are you?" Caught slacking is never a good thing but with how she's an ever loving mess, all grease-covered and nasty, it is pretty obvious she hasn't been slacking off all day.
Cidra comes to a stop. Turns. Eyes Bannik. Levelly. Expression is, as standard, well-schooled, though there's a penetrating quality to the gaze she directs the specialist which was not present when last they spoke. Still, her reply is all the cordial professional. "Yes, Specialist. My ECO should be along presently but I can attend to it myself. As you were, Petty Officer." The salute is acknowledged languidly so Radcliffe can return to her business. Slacking or otherwise.
"I can run through it with you, Major," says the Specialist, grabbing one of the clipboards from a rolly-cart around here. "From my end of things, at least." He's eager to please at this point, considering the reaming he just got on the Deck.
"I would appreciate it, thank you, Specialist," Cidra says. Her politeness has a clipped edge to it, but the CAG is generally all about good manners and just now is no different. She enters the Raptor she'll be taking out, slipping into the pilot's seat, powering it online so she can do a proper systems check. "Ship is in good repair, I trust? If nothing else, the comparative lull of our time over this planet has given us time for maintenance."
"Good enough, sir," confirms the Specialist, looking down the checklist. "Heavy atmospheric operations makes for its own challenges, but nothing that we can't keep up with." Bannik stands behind the pilot's seat, ready to go down the list with the pilot. "A lot of us are being pressed into service helping with the civilian freighter and other things."
"Higher drain on fuel, particularly with the Raptor-heavy ops our mission over Aerilon demands," Cidra agrees with Bannik, as to the challenges of operating in atmo. "Nothing we are not supplied for, of course. We left spacedock with years worth. But, one must keep mindful of such things in case…contingencies arise. How is work upon the civilian freighter going?"
"And more wear on the heat tiles. So we're working on making sure there are no cracks or other problems with them." Bannik glances over the control panels, marking some boxes on his list. "Freighter's going as well as it can. I spent the last 96-hours I had over there doing repairs. But it wasn't really meant to be spaceworthy anymore. We're working on making it so."
Cidra nods short, as to the tiles. "Most good. Do let my pilots know if there is anything they can do to reduce wear and tear on the ships. With a few exceptions, they are generally accustomed to operating primarily in space. Atmospheric flight is an adjustment." Instrument check next. She runs through the clipboard by the book, though everything on the bus is thus far in good order. "Yes, I did hear about your ninety-six hour…layover."
"Not much I can say about it that hasn't already been said, sir," replies Bannik, marking each box off as it's called off. "Not much I can say about it that hasn't already been said." He tucks the clipboard under his arm. "Anything I can do for you, Major?"
"If you think so, Specialist," Cidra says. "I shall merely say this. I rely upon an ability to trust absolutely the work of the technicians here. You have, in a very literal sense, control of the lives of myself and my pilots. If we lose that, this ship cannot function. I have always been able to trust you work absolutely, and I regret having lost that in part. I do hope it shall not happen again."
"I can only lose my family once, sir." Bannik puts it plainly, his voice flat. "So you won't have to worry about that anymore. I promise." His eyes shine faintly behind his glasses. "You're all set from my end, though, Major. Have a good flight." He salutes. "But if you'd ask me? I'd do it again. Just to try to find out." He turns to leave.
"Had you but asked me for the use of a Raptor, Specialist, I would have granted it," Cidra says as he goes. "Perhaps you do not trust me, either." Disapointed but resigned to it. The salute is acknowledged as he goes.