| Badly Damaged |
| Summary: | Harriers and Black Knights land with the most damages to both ships and pilots thus far in the jump/fight |
| Date: | 15 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Enter the Swarm 5: Cinco de Swarmo |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Port |
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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: #354 |
Sonja is standing by with the rest of the medical staff, she'll help where she can passing out bandages and giving general firstaid so the real professionals can heal em up. "If anyone is hurt let me know." She calls, watching in horror as some of the pilots are brought out of their fighters.
Devlin's beleaguered Viper gets rocked with another hit on the way in, sending it hurtling end over end. He manages to right it, but barely, and the comms are too shot to warn of the crash-landing that is inevitable. It's not quite Psyche or Andrea's spectacular look-ma-no-conscious-thought landings of earlier in the week, but it is full of billowing smoke and the terrible screeching groans of metal-on-metal that throw showers of sparks into the air. He very nearly plows into a wall, wing dragging like nails on a chalkboard along it as he skids to a halt.
Despite the last-minute wing damage, Khloe manages to hold it together long enough to put her Viper down on the deck in the usual manner, and doesn't skid too horribly. Still, her Viper is upright. Once safe aboard, she cracks the canopy and is quick to clamber out, taking clipboards and signing off as she does so from attending deckies.
Surprisingly, aside from a barely deflected shot to her engine, Helia's first flight in far too long results in an undamaged Viper. Upon landing, she quickly clambers out and lets the deckies tend to her ship. Brown eyes turn, surveying the scene for now as she regains her bearings.
Deckies will be able to see that Wade's viper is getting closer and closer, and definitely not flying in the best possible way. Still, however, the systems are responding OK, so it's gotta be a problem with the pilot. And indeed, it's a problem with the Pilot, because he is not only choking, but he is also bleeding pretty badly from the head. When his bird makes contact with the deck, it is in a very harsh, very violent way. Surprisingly enough, the support legs hold and so, the bird skids against one of the walls, finally stopping there. Up close, all Deck personnel and gathered pilots will see that the Canopy has a hole in it and that Wade's helmet has yet another hole. He is looking down now, not moving and the helmet lights are blinking on and off, showing a splatter of blood on the remaining glass.
Bran is first to climb out of his parked bus, not that he is one to leave Classy all alone with post-flight business. Helmet aside and taking up a pen from a sleeve's pocket in order to relate all of the electronics damage received by their friendly neighborhood swarm, he does his part and while talking with one of the deckhands he's watching for the more grievously-injured folk.
BlackKnight-311 comes in hot and pitched, jinking and wobbling, all kinds of wrong — and barely avoids impacting nose-first. Not that such avoidance is a great deal of improvement over what ensues. Landing gear gouges the deck, sparks scream and shower in highly flammable arcs, and the plane skids almost a full 360 degrees before coming to a shuddering, screeching stop. Smoke and flames gout, immediately tended to by the fire suppression squad on deck; the spider-webbed canopy seems to be — impossibly — intact, but needs to be levered open. For all the twisted metal surrounding her, however, Psyche emerges from the cockpit basically intact. She's pale and shiny-black on her right side with her own blood, but she's conscious and not at all burned. These are, grimly enough, improvements over recent landings.
So much more damage than before, Circe watches in tense waiting as the Viper's all make their landings along with the Raptors. That is when she starts to stride through, aiming for one of the more heavily damaged Vipers. She looks back at Sonja. "This way!" She intones and switches her bag to her left hand. Her eyes scan the ships as Cerberus jumps, reality fluctuating a moment and only a minor disturbance as she climbs through the mess towards the smoking Viper that belongs to Decoy. The deckhands are already doing their job of getting up to aid the pilot in opening the ship and getting out. She is there at the side of the nose and then looks towards the broken canopy of another bird and furthermore to that of a familiar patient, hurt once again. Psyche. There is a shake of her head, slow and with a press of her lips.
One of the EMT's rushes over to Wade's fighter, motioning Sonja to follow him. He thrusts his medical bag into her hands once at Duncan's bird and begins to release the man from his helmet. Helmet off, he calls to Sonja for verious medical items, which she hands to him quickly. She doesn't say a word as she helps get Drips stable.
"Priority for Lieutenants Devlin, Duncan, and Malone," Khloe calls out to the various deckhands and techs on the deck. "I want a readiness report on Black Knights Vipers in fifteen minutes." Khloe does not stray very far from her Viper, as it was during her watch when the Cylons attacked.
The first crash landings come down and Bannik has to decide where to go first. Where does he go? Well, those three that get priority get the deckhand's priority. He rushes off to Devlin's Viper, looking to get his canopy popped and him out of the cockpit. "Decoy! You all right?" asks the Specialist.
The EMT that takes Wade's helmet off, plus Sonja. Will see that he has pieces of shrapnel on his forehead, temple and basically over the left side of his face right against the ear. His ear, is, luckily enough, intact. As he is unhooked from his seat, he falls forward and unless he isn't stopped, he'll hit face first against the DRADIS module.
The deck crew deals with the flames that billow from the sides of BlackKnight-312 while others work on getting the canopy popped. The pilot is at least moving within, the smoke obscuring much of it, but his forearm banging on the inside of the canopy trying to pop it is easy enough to see. When the misshapen metal is finally forced open, yet more smoke pours out, and an unsteady Devlin reaches up for Bannik's arm, getting his help stumbling out of the plane. He nods, and then struggles with his helmet, finally popping it off to clatter and bounce on the deck. "I'm okay," he says, "Somehow. Maybe a little singed," he eyes his arms, "But ok. I just about totaled that plane." He wavers a little on his feet and looks around, "How's everybody else?"
Blood loss is a dizzifying thing, and Psyche haz it. She sits heavily on the bottom rung of her viper's ramp stairs, putting her head between her knees and letting whoever reaches her first fuss over the shrapnel in her arm. A few bleary moments later, she lifts her head and squints at the bright deck, looking for Devlin. She breathes out in a long rush when she sees him with Bannik, offering both men a wan shadow of a cheeky smile. Woo.
As the pilot is brought out of BlackKnight-312, Circe waits in ready to aid him down as well. "Sir, if you could come down here. Need to get you looked at." Says the medic. Her gaze flits over the other Vipers. So much damage. She motions him over, gloved hands at ready as she waits in patience - strained to say the least as her eyes finally spots Drip's fighter. He's being helped and so she concentrates with Decoy.
Swearing, the EMT motions for Sonja to help keep the man up right. "Easy, there Lieutenant." She says quietly, propping him up, a quick glance around tells her, if they won this battle it was at great costs. "We need to get him down to medical." The senior medic says, shaking his head over the state of Wade. "He's got more metal on him right now then his fighter." Nodding to Sonja he gets her to help him place the pilot on a gurney, which will make his ride down to medical easier. "I'll clean him up a little before he goes, hand me that…" and so Sonja goes back to handing equipment and supplies.
"We're okay. People are fine." Bannik is doing his best to reassure Devlin as he urges him out of the cockpit and down the charred wing and onto the deck itself. "Psyche's right over there. She's got a corpsman over there, I think. Your bird's going to need a lot of attention, but better the metal than you, right?" A beat. "Well, you. Some other pilots, I might pick the plane over them, but hey —"
Seeing they'll need more help the medical officer with Sonja and Wade, calls for more help. "Give us a hand here, will you please." And with a few more hands helping they get Wade out of his fighter and onto the gurney.
For the time, Helia hangs back by her Viper, finishing up all the checkovers and frowning at the scene. She feels…lucky, right now. After a long moment, she taps on the wing of Black Knight 1118, before moving over to see where she might be able to assist.
Devlin leans on Bannik down to the deck, and then follows as he points out Psyche, swaying a little on his feet as he rolls his eyes over to look, and then blink and squint, looking some more, "She's bleeding," he says, and then blinks at Circe, visibly confused, "No, no, I'm… I'm fine, she's bleeding," he points at Psyche, "You should get her first. And then me. I promise I won't run away." Bannik belatedly draws a chuckle, "Thanks, man."
"I didn't bother jury-rigging anything this time around, saved the mess all for you if you don't mind." Bran should check to make sure if the deckie doesn't mind but he's too busy stepping away and toward the fore of the Raptor so that he can peer across to the other length of hangar space. After a look over the shoulder, he's moving to a point where he could maybe, sort of, potentially help and otherwise be an innocent bystander murmuring prayers for the safety of the injured Knights.
Wade's lips are a little blue-ish but he soon coughs and tries to take a deep breath that ends up in a groan of pain. He opens both eyes and tries to look around, not able to see a damn thing. All so blurry. Help is provided to the EMT and Sonja, and soon, they are pulling Wade out of the cockpit, lowering him to a stretcher on ground level. The man is not able to say anything at the moment and just closes his eyes again, with darkness greeting him as an old friend.
Motioning another medic over to check on Devlin as well,s he steps towards Bubbles. "Fancy meeting you here again." she says and then looks over the woman closely. She sets her her bag down, she notes the pierced suit and shakes her head. "How do you manage…" She smiles though, if but faintly and draws out her long tipped tweezers and begins to remove the shrapnel one wound at a time once Psyche allows. "Be still." instructs the medic softly and then motions for her to remove the suit. "Gotta get them wrapped..you will need to see sick bay anyhow..check old wounds as well." She says.
"Yeah. We've got things covered here," Bannik tells the EMT. "Just go on towards Bubbles, and we'll sort of things out here with the Vipers." He turns his head towards the wrecked Viper. "I've got my work cut out for me tonight."
Sonja looks just a little worried at her trainer, her lips pushed tightly together, her hands hovering over the prone man's body. "He'll be fine." She tells herself firmly, getting a look of sympathy from the doctor. "He should be, lucky sod." The medic murmurs, going to careful take more of the Shrapnel from the pilots face. Sonja watches on, unable to do more then help here and there. When she's not needed her eyes wonder back over the others, Helia is spotted and a quick glance is give to the female pilot, she doesn't look back from here, and then over to Devlin, Psyche and Bannik, they seem to be holding there on. Finally she looks back at Duncan, waiting to be dismissed or him to be taken away.
"Again?" Psyche echoes vaguely, looking quizzically at Circe. She is obediently still, jaw tight, going several shades paler as the larger bits of shrapnel are pulled from her arm. Sharp, quick intakes of breath and slow exhalations manage to choke down any overt cries of pain. "How do I manage… what?" she asks through gritted teeth, looking away from the medic's work. "To live through landings like this? The gods are my co-pilot." Once the larger bits are out, she follows directions and stiffly, painfully shucks her flight suit to her waist, giving her arm over once more.
Devlin continues to lean on Bannik, tugging clumsily at his gloves before rubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry," he says of the plane, lids fluttering as he looks at it, "Was doing good til the end there. Here, lemme take the postflight…" he takes the checklist, and just draws a big circle around all of the boxes and writes, in clumsy block caps 'TOTALLY FRAKKED SORRY' and hands it back. He passes that off to a deckie and then wanders over to Psyche and Circe. He leans against the stair-rail, and then slides heavily down to sit on the floor with a thump. "You okay, Psy?" he asks, and then blinks at Circe, eyes rolling between the two women a little bit dizzily, "She okay?"
The work the EMT is doing on Wade seems to be going ok, all the pieces of metal are being removed without problem but, the pilot is still out..and will possibly be out for a couple hours. The wounds themselves, don't look to be /that/ bad, but it's like everything when you get a hard hit on the head. You don't recover right away.
"Exactly…over and over again, good to see you back in one piece though.." She says and as the flightsuit is stripped off from her waist up, she pulls up some gauze and wrappings. She places it to the first wound and begins to rap after spreading some antiseptic. Securing the end, she looks over to Decoy and nods her head. "She will be well, should probably stop by sick bay for some antibiotics, other than that, just small wounds compared to last time." She observes.
She then moves for the other arm as well, repeating the application to the other arm, she then adds. "It was bad today…" She observes. "A lot more came back injured."
Sonja does what she can for Wade, leaving his side when the medic tells her she should go see if anyone else is injured. So off she wonders, to find someone else to help. This is what she's got to look forwards too, sometimes she wonders what processed her signup.
Psyche laughs painfully, shaking her head at Devlin. "No, I'm not okay. This means another week without sex. That is SO not okay…" She takes another breathes in sharply again at the sting of antiseptic. "How about you?" she asks him. "You look kind of drunk. That's not good." She turns to Circe. "He might have a concussion? Can you check him next?" she asks, hopefully.
"It does?" Devlin looks surprised and frowns, leaning over to peer at the injuries, asking after a second, "…why? It's not that big! And arms aren't that important." He rubs at one ear in vague annoyance, sticking a finger in it and then looking up at the rest of the deck, "What happened to Drips? He was talking."
Drips! Yes, what happened to that guy. Well, at this moment, two EMT's are lifting the stretcher with him laying on it. The man has a collar on to prevent neck movement and he is visibly bleeding from the side of his head, different cuts are visible but been already cleaned up as much as possible by the helpful EMT's. Right now, he is being carried to sickbay, so he can get patched up.
Sonja happens to pass the small group just then and stops. "He'll be okay, he got a hole in his canopy and helmet, which caused him to lose oxygen." She tells Devlin. "He'll be fine, doc says, just getting all the metal out of him now." She glances at Psyche then back down to Devlin. "I can check you out if you out, while Circe works on the Lieutenant there." She offers, waiting for him to agree, she does glance back at Drips stretcher watching it leave, before her eyes fall back on Devlin.
"Course I can look him over…" Circe says and finishes wrapping the other wound. "Both of you down to sickbay after this..if not just to double check." She says. The Medic smiles, watching the two and then looks past towards Drip being carried off. She gives a look over Psyche again. "Is there anything else that I need to check out, or were you just struck on the arms, Lieutenant?" The EMT considers the woman slowly and seems to think all looks well.
"Just the arm," Psyche affirms, smiling gratefully through her discomfort as Circe shifts focus to the other Devlin. "Thanks. Very much." She points out Drips as he's carted by, for Devlin's benefit. "There he goes. But I think he's okay. Just a precaution."
The deck is full of planes, many of them still smoking, though all of the actual fire has been extinguished by now, it seems. A few are in charred messes where they crashed or nearly crashed into walls, deck crew and medics scurrying about to deal with all the various types of damage. Wade was carried off in a neck brace on a stretcher just moments ago, bleeding from the head, and from his seat on the floor beside Psyche and Circe, Devlin looks after the Viper pilot and asks Sonja, "But he's okay? That's good. Cuts on the head just bleed a lot." When she offers to look at him he looks confused. "You're a nugget, aren't you?" he says, "I thought you were a nugget." Back to Circe, and important questions, rubbing at his ears again, sticking a finger in one and wiggling it around: "If it's just the arm does it really mean no sex for a week?"
She pulls out her light, flicking it on as she holds it up look over Devlin's eyes. Flashing over each briefly. She nods her head. "Feeling sick, dizzy?" She asks Devlin as she lowers the light. Circe offers a wan smile. She draws a breath, considering the last person to have a concussion and the subsequent gift left on her boot. "Perhaps you should just come to sick bay with me Ensign?" She asks of him, "You both, then I can get you some antibiotics for the lacerations." She adds to Psyche.
Sonja nods her head in confirmation to Circe. "That's what the guy I was helping said." She nods her head at the Nugget questions. "Yeah, but I got some medical training, enough to help out a little. I can't fly with you guys yet. But I can help fix you up after. Looks like Circe here is ready to look at you though, so I'll leave you in her more skilled hands." Sonja smiles at Circe, and then steps back from Devlin and Psyche, so the real medic has room to work on them. Still staying close, she lingers waiting to see if anyone else should need her help.
McManus clatters down the stairs to the hangar deck, giving a few terse directions to the medics carrying Wade out before entering the deck proper and having a quick look around at the carnage. He spies Circe and hurries over, rolling up his sleeves as he goes. "What have we got, then?" he asks simply, watching her expectantly for a reply.
Evandreus finishes all the post-flighting, having long sent off his ECO in order to give him a little time in the cockpit to get his heart to stop pounding against the insides of his ribs. He snatches up his helmet from the seat next to him and slides it back into his duffel, which gets slung over his shoulder as he crawls for the hatch, a little ashen, but not otherwise injured. His chin tips upward as he peers over to where the Devlins are getting done up, trying to get a sense of how much dread he should be feeling. Answer: not ample. Nobody's screaming, nobody's crying— as far as he can tell. Elsewhere on the deck, of course, is another matter.
After finishing with her raptor and watching her Section Leader get carted off with his headwound, Helia finally decides to step into the action. She approaches her fellow pilots, brows raised, helmet tucked under her arm. Brows raised, she nods toward Devlin, with a more respectful salute offered toward Psyche. "Good flying out there."
At Devlin's insistence on a timetable for sex, Psyche can't help but grin. She leans over and kisses his helmet-matted hair. "It's probably negotiable. And probably shorter, the more we comply with doctor's orders. So come on, hot stuff." She pushes herself to her feet with a grimace. "Let's go to sickbay, like we're told."
At the familiar voice, Circe turns her head slightly. "Shrapnel to the Lieutenant here, cleaned it and bound. She needs to head down for antibiotics. Two pilots being carried to the sick bay at present and the Ensign here may have a concussion." She says and hooks her flashlight into her pocket. "I don't think it's too serious." She says for the benefit of both McManus and the Devlins. I was going to go with Malone down to the bay.." She says and takes a step back offering McManus some room. "I will get your antibiotics ready, Lieutenant." With that Circe takes a step back and moves to join the stretcher with Malone.
Giving Bunny some time to unwind, Solstice now stands next to 303 and is going over post-flight. Double checking her ECO station as well. The one she had just worked on the night before. She rubs a hand to the back of her neck and looks towards the others as the deck starts to clear. Damage, heavily so.
Shakes considers the damaged Vipers and actually cringes a little.
Sonja watches everyone leave with a soft sigh and just stands there, she's use to being in the back ground and tries not to feel too put out by the lack of acknowledge from people. "Oh well." She murmurs and goes to walk over to one of the viewing ports. There she stands just looking out and trying not to imagine herself one day being taken down to Medical on a stretcher. Life is going to get a lot more complicated soon.
Devlin blinks at the flashlight in his eyes, gaze sleepy, confused, and not focusing quite as quickly as he shoulder, maybe. Helia gets a smile, and a, "Hey!" before he blinks and then frowns, "Wait, I don't know you. Do I know you? Hi." As for heading to sickbay, he looks at Psyche for a moment, processing, and then agrees, "Okay." He starts to get up and sways, and grabs for McManus, the corpsman being the sturdiest-looking thing around.
Post-flight has taken somewhat longer for Bootstrap than is par, but that's because he actually started making repairs once the paperwork was finished. When he finally disembarks, the top half of his flightsuit has been sloughed off, the sleeves tied around his waist, subsequently revealing his Ta Moko covered arms. Hair damp and looking recently ruffled, the tank top he wears is soaked with sweat. "Less blood, at least," he remarks, starting a walkdown to get an idea of just how many birds were damaged and how badly.
McManus is particularly skilled at being sturdy. Sturdiness is one of his better skills, and being grabbed at doesn't give him too much pause. "Steady now, sir," he rumbles, gripping Devlin by the elbow to keep him upright. "Nasty hit to the head, is it, sir? You just mind yourself, now, don't want to make it any worse. Hold fast, and we'll get you both an escort up to sickbay. The doctor'll probably want to keep you in overnight to keep an eye on you."
As Devlin greets her, Helia offers a bright smile. "No, you don't know me. And I don't know you, either." A hand is offered out to the wobbling Devlin, though it's pulled back slightly as the injured fellow wobbles. "Helia Gryphon, or Sunspot." She offers a faint smile to the man. No more than that is offered for now, as brown eyes scan the faces gathered. She stops when she spots Solstice, brows raising.
Harrier-303 looked good, at least compared to the rest and climbing out of the Raptor, she hits the deck and starts to stride over towards Evandreus. "Hey Bunny…" She starts to say to him. She holds on to her clipboard, dripping her gaze over the entirety of it, rechecking her choices and confirming. Shakes draws up near the Leonite and with her head now free of her helmet, "Good flying." She says to him.
Sonja lingers around, watching and waiting to see what happens, learning perhaps for when she's part of an alert.
And there it is: the Viper designated BlackKnight-312. For a moment, Trask just stares at the carnage. No sanguine streaks, at least. Stopping a passing Crewman, he asks, "Who was flyin' this bird?" Having been in a different section during the skirmish, the SL honestly has no idea.
Helpfully, at the exact same moment, Devlin is replying to McManus's question about whether he took a nasty hit to the head. Steadier on his feet after he's been there a moment, he stretches out an arm to point at BlackKnight-312 and offer, "That one was mine." Kinda says it all, huh? He seems to think so anyway. To Helia, he smiles, "Nice to meet you. Where'd you come from?"
"Huh?" Evan shakes his head, having been lost in thought as he saw the Devlins off with his eyes. "Oh, hey. You weren't too shabby, yourself, Shakes. How're you feeling?" he wonders, looking her features over with a calm but scrutinizing sweep of his eyes.
Sonja glances over at Trask, having paused somewhere close enough to hear. "I think it was Ensign Devlin." she supplies, quietly.
Psyche tilts her head and studies Helia, looking bemused. Unknown viper stick? Trippy. "You're not one of the Evocati, are you?" she asks Helia, half an eye on Devlin in case he decides to get staggery again. "You don't look like a pretentious pain in the ass."
"Ah, Tenderloin," he simply greets, turning to regard Sonja. A glance further reveals that Devlin is, in fact, not dead, maimed, or burned to a crisp. Good enough. Back to the nugget, Bootstrap nonchalantly remarks, "I hope you're tougher than you look."
For all the study of her features, Shakes is utterly placid and unmoved. Unlike her pilot she didn't need time to unwind, just make sure she didn't have space feet when standing. She lifts a brow and looks back at his quizzical gaze. "Yes?" She asks. "I am well enough..glad to see you are doing better. I could find some music that is a little more soothing." She promises, "For next time." She actually smiles at this, a soft turn of her lips. "Post flight is done and you kept us in one piece."
McManus draws in a breath between his teeth, nodding to Devlin. "For sure he'll want you overnight, then, if your aircraft's anything to go by." He raises his voice, booming across the deck, "Anyone who got hit and hasn't yet checked out with a medic, you don't go anywhere until you've seen me." Helpful as ever, he stations himself in front and a little to the side of the doors, folding his arms across his chest. As medics reappear with stretchers, he commands them quietly to assist Devlin mk I and mk II to sickbay.
Sonja turns towards Bootstrap and shakes her head. "You know I ain't sure, but I guess we'll find out first time I go up." She points to the dead Viper. "Or that could be mine." She sighs softly running a hand through her silver mane of hair. "I see you made it through with body and soul, you got any bumps or scrapes, that need checking out. I came down to offer some firstaid."
"Oh, yay. Stretcher rides. I totally wasn't conscious for the last one," Psyche says dryly. "Wobbly McLurch-n-Stagger, my better half, might need a stretcher. But I've just got an arm boo-boo. Can I walk it off?" she asks McManus, ready to comply with the Empress on a Litter treatment if she must.
"Heh. Miraculously," Evan smiles a self-deprecating little smile, unaccustomed as he is to taking praise without somehow trying to flip it on its head. "The music was fine. Seemed to keep the Raiders away, anyhow. Maybe they're not big deet fans," he chuckles wanly. "I should probably head to the bay and see if they need any help down there getting ready for the rush." Since his attempts to be cleared for deck duties were blocked.
"Well, your drive doesn't appear to have snapped at the sight of all this. That's a good sign." And a compliment of sorts in Trask-speak. "When are you slated to launch?" Even as he asks the question, he's resuming his walkdown of the damaged planes.
The Viper pilot smiles warmly over to Devlin. "I was at CFAB Agamemnon, on Sagittaron. I got rescued by you fine folks. Battlestar Hephaestus, before that." She tips her head toward Devlin, smiling faintly. As she glances to 312, she frowns. Ouch. That had to hurt pretty badly. Another glance is cast in Solstice's direction, the woman raising her brows. Then, she turns a smile to Devlin. "You should get to the sickbay. I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunity to speak when you're feeling better, I'll be around. If you'll excuse me, I see someone I know." She smiles to the Devlins.
"He's upright," McManus notes to Psyche, offering a slight smile. "If he can stay that way, just lend him your good arm and get yourselves up there, sir. I'm sure the chaps won't mind awfully if they don't have to carry you both."
"As you wish, Bunny." She nods her head, moving towards her boss to hand over the post-flight information to him. Harrier-303 untouched. "See you soon, Bunny." She says. Shakes is lost in her own world, keeping on track as she passes by the others in line for Sonja and Trask. She clears her throat as she gets near. "Sir, got Harrier-303's post flight for you. Want me to put it somewhere else for now?" Besides, the Viper he is looking at is quite bange dup.
Devlin shrugs at McManus, admitting, even if he wasn't precisely asked, "I've got no idea how I landed it. And how I'm not burnt up. Crazy, man." Psyche's new nickname for him gets his tongue stuck out at her and then he smiles at Helia, "I don't know you, right? Some other time." He gives her a wave, and then nods to McManus and Psyche, waving off the stretchers. "I can walk," he says, "It was just standing up was a little dizzy. I'm okay to walk. Thanks, man," he smiles at McManus, and then, hand set on his wife's shoulder, starts wandering toward sick bay.
Sonja walks alongside Trask, attaching herself to him due to lack of anything else to do. "Not sure." She murmurs, looking a little pale around the edges at the sight of blood on some of the viper frames. "I've been cleared to tag along on CAPs, though not had chance to do many." She clears her throat. "Not many pilots want a liability tagging along." She half jokes, because it's true she hasn't had too many folks just at the chance to have a Nugget tagging along. "Not long though and I'll have my wings." She adds, glancing as the trio head off to medical. "Glad The Devlin's made it through, she says softly. "I meet Decoy my first day after signing up." Shakes voice causes her to glance back and a quick smile is given to the pilot.
"Right on," Psyche gives McManus's pragmatic instructions two-thumbs-up. She slides her good arm around Devlin's waist as he leans on her shoulder, navigating them both in the direction of the stairs. "What, you don't like Wobbly McLurch-n-Stagger?" she asks him, innocently, as they depart. "How about Vertigo Fallsdownalot?"
"Only if I can call you Jokey O'Getssmackedalot," Devlin retorts as they exit, not leaning too heavily on the blood-deprived lieutenant, a hand lifted to drag along walls and brace on doorframes as they head out.
As the Devlins are on their way off to sickbay, so Helia is on her way toward Shakes. But she's doing her best to take advantage of the fact that she has not been seen by Shakes, either. So what results is Sunspot sneaking up behind Solstice as sneakily as she can. Once close enough, Helia cheerfully reaches out to tap the woman on the shoulder, a small smile on her face. "Solstice."
"Decoy's a good kid. First nugget we graduated. Good benchmark for the others to match." Which, again, is a compliment in Trask-speak, even if spoken as though he were saying 'mice like cheese'. When Solstice comes over, he pauses in the walkdown to take the offered clipboard. "Shakes." Reviewing the post-flight list and seeing nothing appears to have been damaged, he remarks, "Not quite Tau Garrison is it?" Faintly, he smirks, looking back to the ECO, only to then hand-off the report to a Specialist that's passing by. And it's then that he notices Helia. "Hello, person I do not at all know," is the glib but not unpleasant greeting.
Sonja pauses next to Trask, her smile widening a little at the unfamiliar pilot. "Sir." She offers, and then it's back to Trask. "I hopefully will be the second." She says, then goes quiet Trask is a popular guy, must be the squad leader thing.
With the clipboard out of her hands, she nods to Trask and offers a wan smile to Sonja, "No nothing like Tau Garrison." She admits, "But its like any other Battlestar, just a lot more demanding." She starts to say something else when she gives a faint jump and turns at the voicing of her name. Turning on her foot she looks over her shoulder at Helia and pauses. A brow arches and she considers the woman for a long few moments. "Wait a moment, Helia?" She asks curiously.
A cheerful smile is offered to Trask, Helia offering a small salute. "Hello. Helia Gryphon, also known as 'Sunspot'. I'm the new Viper pilot. Finally feeling better after you guys rescued me from Sagittaron." She turns, brows raising as Solstice finally notices her, offering a slow nod. "The one and only. Good to see you here, Solstice."
And with no more injuries crawling out of the woodwork, McManus begins to fill in the necessary forms and reports on a clipboard, scribbling as he turns away and makes for the stairs.
"Hope has nothin' to do with it, nugget. S'all about effort and the ability to translate it into positive results." Nonchalant sagacity. Back to Solstice, "Well, just keep meetin' those demands, Shakes." Which is to say that he has yet to be disappointed with her performance. Then, with a small smile of cheeky mirth, "Well met, Helia Gryphon, also known as 'Sunspot'. I'm Kal Trask, also known as 'Bootstrap'. I'm neither new nor a Viper stick." With the top half of his flightsuit removed and tied around his waist, both the man's squadron patch and rank pins aren't readily visible.
Sonja is mildly reprimanded and takes it with good grace. "Yes, sir." She says then turns to the other two. "I'm Midshipman, Sonja Lyon." She offers them each a chance to shake her hand. "It's good to meet you, Sirs." Always polite, is our local Nugget.
Still caught in surprise by seeing Helia she looks back towards Sonja and Trask, "Thank you, sir. I was speaking with Flasher the other day, I was considering possibly finding a better way to cushion the connections of the ECO stations. Something that would take the hits better and not frak with the circuitry." She says and then takes the hand. "Lieutenant JG Vasco. Shakes otherwise." Sunspot. So that was her name. "And how'd you get that, Helia? Lost touch with you after Fleet Academy."
"Well met, Kal Trask, also known as 'Bootstrap." Helia smiles up to Trask. "Sweet ink." She gestures towards his arms, grinning widely to the man. A glance is then cast to Sonja, who she smiles. "Lieutenant JG Gryphon. You can call me Sunspot." The hand is shaken, Helia smiling to the nugget, before she grins toward Solstice. "When I was a nugget, we were doing some gunnery training. I missed a few shots. Blamed it on the sun, even if that wasn't the issue." She smirks.
"I hope your aim's since improved," Kal smirks to Helia. Resuming his walkdown of the damaged birds, regardless of whether or not the ladies follow, he tells Solstice, "The issue with that is time. Fractions of a second can determine whether or not you survive to fly another day. When something gets frakked in a fight, you need to get in an' out as quickly as possible. 'Sides, if your pilot has the necessary chops, insulation shouldn't be an issue."
Sonja follows after Trask, if the others do, in the mood for some company even if she is vastly outranked and out classed. "Nice to meet you." She adds, again, unsure what to say. She hmms to herself softly glancing at the horrors known as battle damage. "I'm wondering if I want to graduate." she jokes, forcing a laugh.
That brings a slow grin from Solstice, despite her usual placidness. She lifts a brow then at Helia. "You will have to explain more.." Shakes does follow, if not to plead her case to Trask. "I understand sir, but my console, despite being only hit lightly had some loose wiring, I am more concerned about keeping our ECM up. That way we can keep jamming despite some tough hits." She explains, falling in behind at a more strict and solid step than the others. She tilts her head, nodding to Sonja.
"My aim has definitely has improved since then." The woman laughs softly after Trask, pulling the hair tie out of her hair and shaking her hair out with her free hand. Looks like she's following Trask, too, if only to talk to her old friend. "Not too much to explain, really. I made an excuse for my incompetence with the gunnery systems." A shrug rolls over the woman's shoulders.
In truth, apart from the Viper that had the misfortune of being piloted by Decoy, there is slightly less wreckage today than there was yesterday, or the day before, and the day before that. There is certainly far less blood. Even so, the Deck is a throng of orange and reflective-striped worker bees, buzzing about the honeycomb.
For his part, Trask is conducting a walkdown to determine which wounded bird he should treat first. Clearly, he was among those who fought in the most recent skirmish, for his flightsuit is half-sloughed off and tied around his waist, revealing a sweat-soaked tank top and very toned arms and shoulder covered in elaborate Ta Moko. Trailing behind him are three woman, two of which are visibly part of the Air Wing. "Which Raptor?" he asks Shakes. "I'll see who signed-off on it."
Sonja gives all present a quick nod. "I'm going to call it a night, sirs." She says bowing her head at them. "Been a long few hours and I have training bright and early." And with that she heads back to the stairs and off to find her bunk.
It's like a nerd invasion, but not really. Just a small clump of engineers, their green coveralls a sharp contrast to the deck's brighter orange. One of them is both shorter than the others and currently more mobile, being on wheels, as she heads out to intercept the current duty NCO. "Lift that hand, and I'll staple it down." Just as the man seemed intent on saluting, "We're shifting some of the repairs down to fabrication. Give me a list of the planes that have the most damage, and we'll get them on the lift and get them out of your hair." Ximena looks back across the wreck of a deck, as she waits for the list, "Any planes that need a complete rebuild you can add as well."
"Harrier three oh three, sir." She says instantly and looks at Helia near her side. "Hey, I gotta head back to the bunks soon, one of the few to go unscratched. I may get triple CAP. There is a bunk open below mine if you like.." She says to the woman, not sure if she had been in the berths yet. Her gaze slips back to her boss and the Sagittaron clears her throat. "Thank you, sir. Should you need anything else sir and I am not on CAP, I would be glad to help with repairs." Shakes says and starts to slow and break away.
A smile sets itself on Helia's face, the woman nodding toward Solstice with raised brows. "Sure thing. It'd be nice to be around someone I know." This is said in a lower tone, Sunspot's eyes roving across the Hangar deck. Then, shaking her head, she smiles over to the Raptor ECO. Then, a glance is cast toward Trask, brows raising. "I'll also offer help with repairs, if you need it. I'll be - wherever Solstice's bunk is."
"Later, Tenderloin," is idly offered to the departing Sonja. "Noted," is all that's said about Harrier-303, before wryly noting, "The day anyone has to perform triple CAP, we'll be so frakked that sleep will become some magical, mythical thing, as opposed to some rare delicacy." A sardonic look is then leveled at the ECO. "If someone somehow convinces you otherwise, you deserve blisters on your keyster and 3 weeks of toilet scrubbing with a toothbrush for being stupid enough to fall for such shit." Even though the SL smirks, he might well be serious. In regard to helping with repairs, "Neither of you have yet to be cleared by the Chief. He approves you, I expect to see your asses here on your downtime."
That said, the walkdown brings him in proximity to Ximena when she asks about the triage. "BlackKnight-312 might need to be scrapped. The rest took some bashing but nothing irreparable." And although the deckhands nearby instinctively straighten and put in even more hustle in their step when Trask arrives, not a single one salutes him. Judging by his response (or lack thereof), it's probably how he wants it.
Is that a snort for the Captain, as Ximena looks away from the paperwork that's just being handed over to her by the duty NCO, as she waits over by the whiteboard, "Clearly, you've forgotten how we do things down in fabrication, Captain." A snort yes, but there's humour there. There's an easy camaraderie between the deck, of which Trask is currently a, slightly borrowed, part, and engineering, where much of the heavy duty repair and rebuild work is handled. "Give me a few days, I'll have her fit for duty." And, in slightly more serious tones, as she hands over the paperwork, "Earmark the ones you need us to handle, and we'll get started." Eyes back to the small group of green-adorned snipes with her, "Get 312 prepped and on the lift, we'll get started as soon as it's clamped down." Off they go.
Shakes has nothing more to say, a brow arching and a nod given. Perhaps she wants another CAP. Solstice breaks away then, giving a look to Helia. "Hey let's go, Spot. I gotta show you the berths. Didn't see you there earlier…unless you snuck in during my last CAP." She says. The ECO starts to lead the way off the deck with her former academic acquaintance. "It gets a little interesting in the berths on this ship.." She starts to explain as they head off. "Little more than usual..there is this lech.." She stats and is out of earshot.
Sunspot is quite happy to follow along with Shakes, quietly opening up the collar of her flightsuit as she goes. "Yeah, I kind of jumped right into that fight. Drips needed a wingman, and I was ready and willing to fly. Haven't gotten a chance to check out the berths yet." She grins, following along next to Shakes. The tidbit of info about the lech has her perking a bit, leaning closer.
Iosif is mucking about the Deck, in the general background of knuckledraggers working. There's no shortage of mucking to be done at the moment. He's half-jogging about at the direction of a shouting PO1.
Without missing a beat, Bootstrap banters back, "Clearly, you haven't taken a gander at 312." It's a friendly ribbing, though. As for the plane in question, it does resemble a crushed beer can more than a bit. "I'll need to take a look at its guts. If it's just body work, it'd be worth re-fab." If not: scrap. All which is relayed in passing, for the man is on his way to the locker area at a fairly brisk pace now that his cursory exterior inspections are concluded.
"Trust me, the Captain knows the way down to Deck Eleven. Get that ship moving!" The snipes get that ship moving, alright, taking away 312, to get it settled and on its way to Engineering. That done, Ximena turns her attention to handing out work details to the rest of the snipes who've come with her. Doesn't matter, just right now, if they're wearing orange or green. They're all wrenches right now. And the planes need them.