| Blow Ups |
| Summary: | Grief and sparks fly on the hangar deck in the aftermath of the latest Swarm. |
| Date: | 23 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | Directly follows Enter the Swarm 9: Sting |
| 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: #362 |
Khloe is assaulted with her usual assortment of clipboards to sign and other post-flight administravia. Helmet off, she glances over as other Vipers come to land, apparently doing the mental math and counting how many came back. Fortunately, it looks like all Knights are accounted for. This time.
The sound of Harrier-307, Bertha by name, coming in hot was an audible thump on the deck, no less so than because Leyla angled the ship in take the impact probably intended for the other ship in tow. Not that she's talking about that at the moment, as she's already jumping out of her raptor, while still on the elevator, jumping down from the winglet to head back to the dead bird she towed back, "Don't you make me tell Boots you're gone, Mouse." Only a few more seconds, and the elevato carrying Harriers-307 and 309 will be at the level of the repair deck.
Marko is out of the Raptor a millisecond behind Leyla, dashing over to help evacuate the two pilots. From the look of things, it doesn't look promising. Anyone who was in there is definitely not going to be a happy camper to say the least. "Cmon, Sweet Pea, help me with this thing." he says, struggling with the jammed rescue panel.
Roland shuts down Viper 309, and takes his helmet off as the cockpit opens. He runs a hand through his hair just sitting in the ship for a few moments unmoving.
McManus keeps a very close eye on each and every airman/woman as they disembark, and with the look of a couple of downed birds, he shifts his medic kit and hurries forward to meet the Raptor-dudes(tm). "What have we got, sir?" he asks shortly, lending his own not insignificant shoulder to helping release the rescue panel.
Climbing up and out of her Viper, Kaitlyn groans as she pulls her helmet off her head. She doesn't move far from the ship, rubbing her face with one hand as the other tosses the helment aside. "Frakin' hell," she mutters as she looks back at the damaged Viper, shaking her head. "More than lucky shots, this time. Gotta fly better, next time…"
The battle raging outside electrified the ship - everyone knew what was happening without anyone having the full story. Rumors swirled, kept in check only by iron-fisted CO's and the reassuring words of the politicians. If you really wanted to know something, you'd be where Galen is - on the flight deck, watching the birds come home to roost. He nods slightly as each one touches down, wincing when Mouse's lands with an ungraceful thump.
Galen makes his way to the flight deck, waiting to see if he can be of any use to anyone; evacuating the wounded, patching up a Viper, or some such thing. He should have been out there tonight….
Another day, another swarm attack. What is this, twelve? Thirteen? Devlin manages to land his battered viper with a minimum of sparks and screeching, climbing wearily out and shucking his helmet and gloves, trading them for the post-flight clipboard. He meanders around his ship with the deckhand on duty, checking out the KEW-scarred hull and peeking over at the wreckage of Mouse's raptor curiously and concernedly.
Khloe finally climbs out of her Viper now that the deckies have stopped swarming the Captain for information. Helmet tucked between her left arm and hip, she strays away from her Viper to seek out Kaitlyn. "How are you feeling, Ensign? They took a bite out of your ass, it seems."
The raptor Leyla and Marko are pounding away at looks like someone not only blasted it with KEWs, but lit it on fire just to be safe. And then maybe some titan stomped it up a little bit just to be on the safe side. "Frak me." Leyla grabs for her tool kit, pulled out as she ran out of her raptor, jamming the edge of one of the prybars into the space between the panel and the raptor's hull, "You don't spend a lot of time on the flight deck do you, Marine?" It's not that Leyla is nasty all the time, but she is right now, and she's not apologizing for it. Finally, the panel pops off, and, being the littlest, she moves to crawl inside first, "Come on, Mousey, Henry."
Roland climbs out of his Viper, and signs off on the dotted line. He winces, and walks slowly around his ship, looking at the damage. He mutters, "Frack me."
"A frakking _mess_ is what we've got here." Marko replies, sighing with relief as Leyla gets the hatch open and starts to squirm inside. "Where the hell is medical?" he asks, looking around and not bothering to try and get inside with Leyla. "Hey, Marine, do me a favor will ya, find us a Godsdamn corpsman." he says, a hint of a real plea in his tone. "Sweet Pea, what d'ya got in there?"
Kaitlyn looks up with a blink when she addressed by Khloe, pushing off the ship and looking back over it. "Took a beating," she laments with a sigh and a shake of her head. "Not really sure how it held t'gether through some of that, but at least I got a little payback. Right?" Her nonplussed expression curls back up into a smirk as she looks back at the Captin, arms folding over her chest. "Next time, I'll have t' fly smoother."
After a swift kick in the direction of McManus' offending hand, Leyla manages to make it inside, the holes in the hull having dissipated most of the smoke, and the vaccum of space having certainly put out all the fires. That's both a good thing, as she's not going to be set on fire herself for the time being, and a bad thing, as she can see the extent of the damage to the ship. And to her two crewmen. Hemry, still at his ECO station, is riddled with shrapnel. His flight suit is burned, but his facemask is clear. Small comfort that he must have died of blood loss coupled with suffocation, as his suit vented his oxygen. Not so lucky was the ship's pilot, Mara "Mouse" Smyth. She's burned from head to toe, her faceshield cracked and blackened by the smoke, what's left of it, the plastic all over her body melted onto her skin. "Mousey." Leyla reaches out for the other pilot, pulling her down out of her chair, craddling the lifeless body against her chest. Rocking her. As if the woman were not dead, but only sleeping.
"Oh sons of _Dis_, my apologies, Corpsman…" Marko sighs, shaking his head at his own stupidity. It's probably a good thing that McManus is being nice about it, cause he's got the feeling the big corpsman could disembowel him with a tongue depressor if he were in the mood. He's about to say something else when the distinct aroma of melted plastic and scorched flesh hits his nostrils. "Oh Gods..no…" he breathes, squatting down to wait for Leyla to reappear.
Galen watches quietly from the sidelines, reaching up to remove his cover at the sight and the reactions of the people surrounding the heavily damaged Viper, lowering his head for a moment out of respect for the fallen, his eyes closing.
Roland moves toward the other side of hanger. stopping near Devil he nods to the pilot, "Nice flyin…." His words fade away as he sees the Raptor. He swallows, and glances down at the deck.
One of the late comers to the scene, Crewman Lagana carries in her hand that well known bag of her's. Up the stairs she comes, taking in the scene as she starts forward towards McManus near the Raptor. Circe starts his way, passing a few of the pilots and looking them over with a discerning eye. Her head snaps about, giving a look to make sure there aren't those in need on her route forward towards the other corpsman.
Khloe arches a thin eyebrow at Kaitlyn. "So cock-sure, are you? Well, Ensign, I'll look forward to reviewing your gun footage and seeing precisely how you did. I don't believe in luck. And it'll probably do you good to remember… to…" Poppy was about to lay into Kaitlyn about some rule or regulation, no doubt, but when she catches what's going on by Mouse's Raptor, she stops. "Oh, gods," she mutters, more of a distasteful sound than a reverent whisper. She swallows something down, deepening her scowl. "We'll talk later, Meat," she says, presumably at Kaitlyn, and then begins walking in the direction of the Raptor.
Devlin looks up at Roland and nods, "Thanks, Blue. You too. Can you tell how it's going over there?" He nods towards the raptor, "Looks real bad, huh?" His own plane isn't in great shape, but he finishes up the post flight and signs off, beginning to wander closer to the rest of the group. They pass Galen on the way and he lifts his chin in silent greeting the other man.
McManus grits his teeth as he's kicked. Join the navy, they said. See the universe, they said. Get kicked in the hand by pissy pilots? They didn't mention that part. He looks back over his shoulder to his team of assembled medics, calling clearly, "Stand by to receive two casualties," before heaving himself through the rescue panel and into the Raptor. Yeah. Yeah, not good at all. Still, he knows his job, and heads for the less crispy of the two first, already fishing for a portable oxygen supply for the corpse. "Sir, I'm going to need you to hold this here for me," he tells Leyla firmly. "We might be able to save them."
Kaitlyn's smile fades a bit at that, letting out another sigh and a nod. "Yes, Captain," she replies as her posture stiffens a bit. The scne voer by the damaged Raptor has her grimacing as she bends to pick her helmet back up. She runs a hand through her faded red hair, hesitating before she fainlly starts over in it's direction, several steps behind Khloe.
Galen is in the middle of pulling his cover back on when he catches Devlin's nod, returning one of his own. Every part of him wants to go to the Raptor, to help in any way he can, but with the crush of deckies surrounding it, it's more than likely tough enough for the corpsman to get in and out. Casualties, though….that's never a good thing to hear. At a quick jog, Galen heads over to a missile transport, now empty, and swings himself into the driver's seat. A few buttons and a twist of the starter has him moving toward the plane with a chariot, of sorts, for the fallen.
Mcmanus disappears within the Raptor and the crewman is not far behind, excusing herself past a few pilots as she climbs up on the wing and stands in the doorway. Her gaze narrows and she hesitates, keeping her hand at the entryway. Circe lifts a hand to cover her mouth a little, letting it fall away as she tries to adjust to the smells coming from within. The two in quite a bad way, she hangs back a little and then calls in, "Did you need some help?" Course hey does, looking then to the ECO as she steps to the side.
Roland nods absently to Devlin, and watches the work on the Raptor for a few more seconds. He shakes his head, and turns away from the broken ship. His helmet dangles from one hand as the other reaches up to undo the collar of his flight jacket.
The look Leyla gives the corpsman. If looks could kill. No, she's not letting go of Mouse. And her eyes move to Marko. He's closer now anyways, she's all the way up by the pilot's seat, tucked into the well between the righthand seat Mouse was sitting in, and the normally vacant lefthand one. The one Henry never made it to. The small taurian pilot promptly looks away, back down to the face of the woman in her arms. When she does open her mouth again, it's not to speak, but to sing, in that sibilant, Black Country Taurian. A song Khloe in particular would recognize as she gets closer to the wrecked raptor, having lived through these scenes with Leyla. A last lullaby.
Marrus Choke Valentine arrives from the dual stairway. Eyes flying over those gathered, his march comes to a cease as his eyes run over those gathered. Holding back the Marine watches the group, lips pulling back tight at the mention of casualties. Hands go to clasp together behind his back. The quiet marine holds back for a moment, watching.
Marko bows his head, seeming to deflate as he begins to realize that the crew of the Raptor's not coming out alive. He doesn't say anything. Just pulls his helmet the rest of th way off and stands there quietly, as if in prayer.
Khloe gasps softly, a sound of astonishment and emotion, that most aboard Cerberus would likely not have ever heard from the stoic, typically cold woman. Then, quietly, "Marines, give her a minute," in case it wasn't clear. "Tend to other pilots." And whereas Marko reverently and respectfully bows his head, Khloe looks on with a hardening expression, her eyes fixed on what she can make of Leyla through the battered and smoky glass of the Raptor.
Galen's cart nudges it's way through the crowd, a few looking back and then moving aside, understanding exactly what he means to have happen with it. It's not the most austere of funeral coaches, but for what they have, it's the best they got, and Demeter help him if he lets people just carry them. Pulling up next to the rescue hatch he kills the electric motor and waits, listening to the funeral dirge coming from within.
McManus gets the oxygen attached, checking for vitals. It's not positive. Still, he eases the body over his shoulder, a relatively simple and practiced task, and moves to shift the poor ECO to the rescue hatch and to the waiting Circe. "Tag him," he advises quietly, leaving the movement of these crispy critters to sickbay to the subordinate medic. "One more to follow. Let the docs call it, but I think we can be pretty sure." And back to Leyla. "Sir," he attempts once more, tone gentle. "We need to get her, and you, out of here. Will you lend us a hand to get her back to sickbay now? There's a team waiting."
Somehow, Leyla manages to keep poor Mouse tucked against her chest, long enough for her hands to reach up, pull off her helmet and chuck it down on the raptor's deck, before she gathers the woman back into her arms. She hasn't any of the necessities, the accoutrements for the ritual, But she has a few words, but she does what she can. "Needs Boots," comes out, in the soft silence, between the end of one song and the start of the next, "Don't you dare touch her! Need Boots now!" And despite the tone of her voice, there's no anger, just a heartbreaking sadness, as she settles into the song. None of the necessities, but the tears that start sliding down her cheeks, touching Mara's through the open faceplate will have to do, washing some of the soot off of her once beautiful face.
Making room for the ECO, she sets down her back and lets out that sharp whistle for stretchers. Dead or not, they needed to be treated with care and the crewman gives a nod to McManus, "Of course." She says faintly and the fact that a death was happening. She bites at her lip and begins to document something, her hand moving to check for a pulse but nothing. As the stretcher is brought up, she shifts then and aids the others in getting the ECO on the board. She straps him in by his waist and she keeps her face set firmly in order not to give way to her thoughts. She catches her breath and the nods up to them as she motions for them to bring over the next stretcher and watches as he man is taken down - unmoving. Slowly her head turns to watch Leyla and the silent pilot in her arms. She rises slowly and does not say anything.
At Khloe's gasp and request, Kaitlyn comes to a slow stop on the edge of teh crowd, a long frown on her face. It's not the first time she's seen death, by a long shot, but it's never pretty, and this looks… even more gruesome than some of what she chooses to remember from Tauron. Turning away, her rubs at her face again, eyes closing.
Marko hears the anguish in Leyla's voice and somehow manages to find himself in mid-stride, heading for the nearest growler phone, and practically tearing the thing off the wall as he picks it up. "Boots, Flasher, we need you in here, stat." he says simply before hanging up and moving to stand near Leyla. "I called him." he says simply.
Khloe steps forward, knowing Leyla perhaps better than anyone on the deck at the moment, with the sole exception of maybe Marko. "Corpsman," she offers to McManus in a quiet voice. "You've two options. Either you let the Lieutenant grieve and you go about your business helping other casualties, or you risk getting your face torn off by a mourning Taurian. And a pissy Canceran is going to let it happen. Understand?" She turns, glancing at Marko. Leaning in to him, she rests a hand on his shoulder - she seems tired, maybe affected by the loss as well. Or maybe it's just because Leyla is so touched. "Watch over her. I have to handle getting CAP back out," she murmurs to him. Still stone-faced, she gives the man's shoulder a warm squeeze. Another glance is spared for Leyla, and then she backs off, turning towards the Vipers on deck.
McManus sets his jaw, wrinkling his nose once more at the smell, and simply moves in to grab Leyla by the scruff of the neck with one hand and wrap an arm around the pair of them with the other, to attempt to physically drag them back to the exit. The hell with mourning, there's a job to do, and that job is clearing personnel from a potentially hazardous Raptor. "Sir, you've got to take her outside," he insists firmly.
Marrus stays at the back of the crowd, taking a few steps to the side. With Kaitlyn also stepped away from the crowd the marine takes the time to approach her. With his eyes on the squad, he glances over at her. "What happened?" Choke asks softly, hands clasped behind his back as he looks curiously over at the crowd.
"Corpsman, let it go, okay." Marko says wearily, reaching out to place a gently restraining arm on McManus' shoulder. "There's other people out here that you _can_ help." he says firmly, but sympathetically. "Mouse is gone…let Leyla do what she has to." he adds before trying to catch the tune from Leyla's singing. "What we _both_ have to."
As McManus moves to manhandle Leyla, Circe blinks and steps forward. "Frak.." She hisses through her teeth. She glances over at Marko and then hesitates. "McManus." She says and watches the ECO step forward to intercede. She moves about, trying to get a look at Leyla and stay out of the way. She parts her lips as if to say something, but at the moment she is not sure saying anything would help.
Though, unlike their Sagittaron counterparts, Taurian mourning songs are short, and perhaps to the point, they're no less sung with feeling. The second dies softly, before Leyla simply pulls Mouse closer, looking up through the glass, catching sight of Khloe, and then, as if tracking the woman past the outer skin of the raptor, catches her eyes through the rescue panel. There's no smile on Leyla's face for the Knights SL, but Khloe would understand. It's not the time for smiling yet. But that's not to say that there's not a spark of thankfulness in her expression for Poppy taking care of business. Which quickly disappears once McManus moves in to grab her. She's like a chihuahua who thinks they're a rottweiler, the way she starts fighting to get free of him, kicking and twisting for all she's worth, as much as she's trying to get Mouse clear of him too. "Don't you touch me."
McManus grunts at a couple of those kicks, nonetheless still maintaining a grip on the back of Leyla's flight suit, while his other hand goes to grab her chin and hold it. "Sir, if you don't get yourself out of this Raptor before it blows up, I'm going to have to tranquilise you. Now get yourself, and your buddy, out of this bird. Now. For as long as you're here arguing, you're putting more lives in danger. Are we clear? Now MOVE IT." Ooo. It's the rarely used Scary Voice(tm).
Another stretcher is waiting and ready outside the Raptor, but if things go the way they do, they may not need it. Circe watches and then presses her lips firmly together. She turns then and looks to Marko. "Sir." She says and motions for him to exit, moving as well back to her bag and gripping it, she hoists it, remaining though if the other corpsman should actually hold true to his need for a sedative.
Two Harriers are dead and their SL, not reported to be KIA, has been MIA since the RTB. The truth of the matter is that Trask's Raptor sustained some serious damage to the hatch. The kind that required the deckhands to cut through the metal in order to permit any exit. Once he's actually out, he wastes no time trying to get up to speed on some of the snippets he heard over the TAC channel. "SITREP!" It is a demand that cuts through the chaos of the hangar in a way a once assistant Deck Chief can.
Blow up? That's enough to cut through the worst of the shock right there. "Sweet Pea, he's right." Marko says, starting to make his way out. "We gotta get Mouse out of the Raptor so they can get it clear." he says, shaking his head a few times to try and clear it. "You can take Mouse with ya, but we gotta get out of this ship, okay?" he says, motioning Leyla forward as he makes his exit. "Thanks, Circe." he says. nodding and reaching out his hand. "Can you gimme a boost?" he asks.
"Sirs, I'm going to need you all to move along, please," PO3 Lazaroff says, finally stepping into the fray around the Raptor, arms waved in a gentle herding motion, urging the knot of Air Wing folk away from the burnt out ship, "This Raptor is a potential hazard that needs to be inspected before any of you spend time in it again and that includes right now. So please step back and let the medics do their work and us do ours."
Khloe is walking back towards where Vipers are being serviced in the mad rush to get birds back in the air for post-engagement CAP. "Boots," she calls out, altering her path to pass by him, but not stop and hold a conversation. "Mouse and her ECO KIA. Sweet Pea's grieving hard. I told the Corpsmen to back off but I doubt they'll understand. I'm going to wrangle my squadron and get back in the air. Handle that before it blows up, as the Marines are starting to get antsy." She casts another glance towards the Raptor, and then Boots. And then she's on her way.
Getting a tug out, she hesitates and looks down at Marko. She passes her bag off and hooks her long leg against the edge of the Raptor. Circe extends her hand down, levering it against her other thigh and reaches forward. "Of course, sir." She says, giving a locked joint and an open hand to him. The medic waits, shifting her foot to keep herself anchored for Marko.
If the Scary Voice(tm) was intended to frighten her, it seems to have the opposite effect as it slaps her in the face. No longer scared or angry, or anything of the sort, the cold, blank mask that falls over Leyla's face would do Poppy proud. And in her voice, there's no more expression than in her face, "You want us out of this raptor, you get your hands off of me before you lose them, Corpsman." That at least got through. As did the voice of the mustang SL, "Boots, I need you right now!"
"Sirs, I need you out of this raptor NOW," Lazaroff repeats, frowning and trying that herding motion again. He doesn't make a very good crowd-controller, "And I need the rest of you to back away. When you don't let us and the medics do our jobs, more of you die, not less. You two climbing into the Raptor, that is the opposite of what I just asked you to do. What the hells?"
McManus releases the pair in an instant, backing off a pace and nodding. "Out, sir," he encourages once more, opening up his medkit just in case. "Take her out, and let the deckhands secure this aircraft."
It takes a few moments for Kaitlyn to acknowledge Marrus, but when she does, it's a slow turn she makes over towards him, before looking back at the scene by the damaged Raptor. "Casualties of war," she replies sadly, shaking her head. "Rator got shot down while we were out, and, well…" She looks back down at the floor for a moment, then back up. "I'd recommend keeping your space back. Looks like it's bad enough up there."
And, just like that, it has gone from two (2) possible KIAs to two (2) confirmed KIA, one (1) Raptor so damaged it might explode, and (1) Blackie Raptor pilot still stubbornly inside said Raptor. "«Aydin, get your ass outta that bird now! We've lost enough people already.»" Nothing like barking a command in the Black Country dialect. For everyone else, and in Standard, Bootstrap makes it very well know, "Anyone who is NOT part of DC that is still within blast radius, if you do not disperse within the next five seconds, you WILL be brigged!" For someone who doesn't throw around his authority, when he actually does, there is no mistaking that he means what he says.
Marko takes Circe's offered hand and yanks himself out of the Raptor. "Okay, I'm clear." he says, pulling himself back to his feet and starting to make his way towards Trask. "Sir, Sweet Pea could really need some help here." he says simply. "We gotta get her out of that thing, I think she's snapped a little. Mouse and Henry…." he begins, then stops himself, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Mouse and Henry are KIA." he reports simply. "Cockpit fire, from the look of it."
Marrus bares his teeth for a moment in the direction of the crowd. Giving a slight nod to Kaitlyn in recognition. "I'm sorry." Choke answers quietly. Clasping his hands behind him. Staying back he gives a light nod. "No intention of getting closer." He murmurs, glancing over to the faux-redhead. "Friends of yours?"
Once Marko is free and clear, Circe steps back as well. That leaves McManus and Leyla with the body of Mouse. The Corpsman moves to join the crew with the stretcher and instructs the other pair with the free stretcher to stay near, but back off at least a little as they have been told to.
She waits at ready though, backing off from the Raptor with the others.
Once McManus gets out of her blast radius, and Boots call comes, Leyla begins to move, using all of her strength to move the woman who, once larger, seems lighter now than she was. Not by much, but she is. One would imagine being cooked will do that to you. Regardless, she continues to move her towards the rescue panel, "Flasher, help." A turn of her head, towards the ECO panel, before she allows the corpsmen to take Mouse in hand, as it were, before she climbs out herself. Boots she pointedly doesn't look at, as she hops down from the winglet. Instead she focuses on the DC team, "ECO panel. Still sparking." Internally, but probably not for long.
And with the Raptor finally empty and his primary job done, the big ass medic wastes no time at all in bundling out of the hatch, attaching himself to the stretcher team and calling out, "Raptor is clear of personnel!"
PO Lazaroff just throws up his hands, eyes rolling as now everyone goes scurrying out of the Raptor. "Sure, just ignore the deckies. Might as well not even frakkin' exist to you people, huh? Gods forbid we run our own damn deck. Nooooo…" Grumbling away on that note, he and the rest of the DC team spring into action, the deckhand adding at the last second with a sympathetic nod to McManus, "And the meds. You guys too." Whatever he means by that. To firefighting!
"I wish," Kaitlyn laments, shaking her head. "Doesn't really matter. We're all going t' feel having one less Rator pilot around." She takes a deep breath, watching as everone is finally moved out froma round the Raptor.
Marrus gives a silent nod as he listens to the young women before dipping his chin to her. "Lance Corporal Marrus Valentine. People call me Choke." He greets, managing to sound amiable and sad at the same time. Which would be quite a feat if he didn't always sound some kind of morose. "Again.. Sorry." He lets out quietly.
"All Air Wing personnel: if you've finished your post-flight checks, you are dismissed! If you haven't, get to it!" The knuckledragger-turned-SL is so not playing. Pilots underfoot Damage Control is just asking for trouble, and it's not something he'll tolerate. That out of the way, he then addresses Marko and Leyla in a non-EveryoneOnTheDeckIsGoingToHearMe tone, "Flasher, Sweet Pea: best bring me up to speed." All things considered, he's understandably displeased. How much is directed at the two Harriers before him isn't evident.
"Not much else to report, sir." Marko replies with a long, very sad sigh. "Cylon reinforcements were jumping in and it looked like they were going to stack up to more than what my gear could handle. I requested assistance and CIC vectored Mouse and Henry over to give us a hand. About two, three minutes later, they got hit _hard_. I didn't see it, I just know their transponder went out." he reports quietly. "We got to them with Bertha fast as we could, but the damage had apparently already been done. Again, it looked like a cockpit fire is how…." he begins, then forces himself to take another breath. "They were KIA when we brought them aboard."
McManus is clear and the ECO strapped down, she nods to those with her. She moves off then, making a motion to clear the deck with the two Raptor crew. She glances over at the PO and then back at her work, keeping pace beside the fallen. It felt odd to leave the deck with someone who had no chance. The grip on her bag tightens and she looks over the body as they head down the stairs.
Circe leaves, heading towards the Dual Stairway [Dual Stairway].
Leyla is no longer crying, but the tears have only just dried on her face, "It should have been you, Boots. She was your pilot." Despite the fact that the Harriers did and do as need require, switch ECOs and Pilots as duty requires, more often than not, it was Mouse who flew with Boots, since Quinn was removed from the flight line and stationed as the ship's LSO. "Why didn't you come? I waited for you. She gave her life for you, for the whole fleet and you didn't come. She was yours and you didn't come. She gave everything, and you abandoned her." And that's all Leyla has to say. Flasher's already handled all of the other pertinent information. Leyla turns on her heel, starting off in the direction of the medics, and the two body bags now being carried down to sickbay.
McManus gives a simple nod, directing the stretchers out and following them at a brisk pace.
Exhaling sharply, Kaitlyn looks back up at Marrus with a nod. "Ensign Kaitlyn Anlessa. Wish we were meeting under better circumstance." She turns on her heel, beginning to make her way out. "But you heard 'em. Time t' head on out. Last thing I need is another chastising…"
"Right." Marrus quips, turning slow on heel, following Kaitlyn on out.
It's never easy losing people. There's a sense of turmoil and rue in those damnably expressive eyes of Trask's that betrays he's all too human, even though the rest of his face is severe. "Nothin' to be done for D-O-As," is grimly remarked to Marko. "What's the deal with the deckhands and the corpsmen?" AKA, why the frak were people still in the Raptor even after being told to vacate.
When Leyla speaks, though, she gets an answer. Likely not one she wants to hear, but when does that ever stop the Captain from speaking his mind? "Why didn't I come?" comes the onset of snark. "As in 'why didn't I enter a ship that DC needed to secure but couldn't because people couldn't wait to weep until /after/ they and the deceased were out of the blast range'? That's easy: I'm not stupid. Or do you mean why wasn't I on the floor as soon as we landed? That's easy, too: the hatch sustained so much damage, it was fused shut and we had to be cut out." So not helping morale. But wait — there's more. "Just because they were killed while coming to /your/ aid," yeah, he heard what Flasher said, "does /not/ excuse you from exercising such poor judgment that you did not /immediately/ pull the remains from the Raptor. Respects mean no less when given /outside/ of a potential blast zone."
Marko doesn't flinch, doesn't blink, doesn't even move as he receives the icy dressing down he knows he deserves, not in a stoic 'I screwed up, I'll take the heat for it' kind of way, but in a 'too numb to make out what's being said to him past consonants and vowel sounds' way. He doesn't say anything, or even make a move. Just stands there, swaying on his feet like a boxer after eleven rounds of a fight that's going badly for him.
Leyla pauses, pulling up short, but not grinding to a stumbling stop. Instead, she just turns, back to face the SL, "How like you, Boots. It's never your fault. You always know better than anyone else. No one ever gets to be right, because Kal Trask has to hold the market on that. Kal Trask, the iron man, who always has to come out on top, no matter what the argument, or the situation. Kal Trask, who will never once admit he was wrong. Kal Trask, who always has to stand at the top of the mountain as the winner. And to hell with the people you have to grind under your feet to do it. Some people use their fists to abuse the people around them. You…you just use your mouth." Leyla hand reaches up, snagging the Harrier's patch velcroed to her shoulder and ripping it off, letting it drop to the floor, before she turns back and heads on her way through the hangar.
"And what about Leyla Aydin, huh?" Kal is quick to come back. "Leyla Aydin, who is so ready to be distant and stoic when she's not the one who frakked up. Leyla Aydin, who is so self-absorbed in her feelings of guilt that she doesn't give a frak that her actions put the lives of several people at risk. Leyla Aydin, who needs some whipping boy because self-flagellation just isn't doin' the trick anymore. Leyla Aydin, who goes on about family, and trust and respect, but wasted no time in disregarding all those things when it suited her." A glance to the discarded patch.
Even so, he's not heartless, nor is his conscience clean. "They were dead, Sweet Pea. There was nothing you could've done for them in the here and now. Cry all you want," Bootstrap continues, his tone not lacking in a certain sympathy that is all the same laced with irritation, "sing your songs, perform your rites, do /whatever/ it is that you need to do, but /not/ when doing it then and there endangers others. You were reckless. Say all you want about me, but I'm right about that. Not because I /have/ to be, but simply because you were."
Oh, now here's a fine kettle of fish. Bad enough that Mouse and Henry are dead, now we're having a minor melt down between Leyla and Trask. "Okay….okay….._enough_." Marko says, perhaps with more force and heat in his tone than he even realizes as he moves to collect Leyla's patch. "This belongs to you." he says flatly to the pilot. "And for the record, _I_ was the one who called for help. That was _my_ voice on the flight recorder." he says simply. "Boots, we can't keep this up much longer." he says, turning to face Trask for the first time. "Sooner or later, the Elpis's FTL is going to go tango uniform and we're going to lose the whole shooting match before it starts. I dunno what the frak we're going to do about it, but we'd best start thinking about it and _fast_. We cannot afford to lose people, not now, not like this." he says, trying, and failing to let anger replace the grief he's feeling. At least his voice doesn't crack as the tears roll. "Get those frakkers up in CIC to pull the Godsdamned thumbs out of their duffs and come up with a plan of action, STAT! Or we're all dead. Sweet Pea, I'm headed to the morgue, I …. I need to say goodbye." he says, sniffling a little. "Dismissed, sir?"
Leyla doesn't stop this time, nor does she make any attempt to accept the patch Marko's holding out for her. But she can still hear the voice of the SL following after her. And she has to wait at stairs besides. Too many people going up and down that have more need to use it than she does, despite the fact that she wants to get down to sickbay and likely the morgue to see Henry and Mara. "Thank you for proving my point, Bootstrap. And Flasher, good luck with him." That's all she has to say about that, as she finally finds an open slot in the current moving up and down the stairs and heads on her way.
"Death by a thousand small cuts is no way to go," is the sour agreement with the other ECO. "I've already expressed my discontent to Toast and Poppy about it." Sardonically, he smirks, because that's something of an understatement. "I'll have further words with the Major. See if we can get a timeline for what I imagine is to be the upcoming assault on the foundry Shakes and Priest found." Troubled eyes follow Leyla, the dismay perhaps evident to Marko, with whom he continues to converse. "I'd say she's just being a sore loser, but it's more than that. And it doesn't get any easier, but you know that." Gaze settles back on the JiG. "And I know you were just trying to cover her back in the Raptor, but you weren't doing anyone any favors, Marko. It was boneheaded of both of you, and there's a shortage of intelligent people in what remains of humanity, so neither of you have permission to start acting dumb. All honors to Mara and Henry, but you'd better not pull another stunt wherein it could be you that we're mourning. They died a good death, insofar as there is such a thing. What you and Aydin pulled? That's an unacceptable way to go."
"My apologies, sir." Marko replies, somehow managing to find a trace of a smirk, even though his eyes look crushed as Leyla departs. "I'm not used to Black Country mourning rites….I was scared to leave her alone." he says, trying, and failing to find a jocular tone. "I'd like to be CC'd in on that one, if it's at all possible. Also, just in case we need any more bad news, I got a sneaking feeling something on this ship is transmitting. The Cylons are having too much luck finding us for my tastes." he says, unzipping a pocket in his flight suit and carefully tucking Leyla's Harriers patch into it. "Again, not sure what to do about it." he adds. "Anyhow…that's all the news that's fit to print, sir. If it's okay, I wanna get down there before the medics get Mouse and Henry into funeral kit. They did good out there." he notes, a hint of pride in his tone. "They did damn good."
"Is /that/ what she was doing?" No one actually bothered to tell Trask just /why/ his people were disobeying corpsmen and deckhand orders to vacate the Raptor. This explanation actually seems to befuddle him. "She's not even religious." Does not compute. For a moment, he considers this, his brow furrowed. Then, with a vague shake of his head, the notion is dismissed. "Whatever. The point is that in the bird when DC is trying to do its job on said bird is /never/ the right place or time for /any/ kind of rite. Common sense, Flasher." And that appears to be all the dressing down that the SL intends to do about the matter. Quite mild, all things considered. "You do that," is added about the morgue. "I'll make arrangements with CMES for last rites. If you want, I'll see to it that you and Sweet Pea can attend since it seems unlikely we'll be doing another wake like we did after Warday. In the meanwhile, look out for her. Whatever's botherin' her, do your best to help her through it. I suspect she'll forego her Black Country pride for you."
"I'd appreciate that, sir." Marko replies, giving salute of the slow, weary, sad, but still straight of back persuasion. "I'll talk to her." he adds before turning neatly on his heel and making his way to the stairs.