| Breach Loading |
| Summary: | Decumius and Vandenberg finalize assault plans for Silent Mastiff. |
| Date: | 24 Jan 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | All Silent Mastiff logs. |
| Players: |
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| Marine Offices |
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| This offices consists of desks for those under the CO, along with his desk toward the back of the room. The S1 and S2 have desks here and the place is neat as a pin, with everything in its place. At the front of the room, a Marine sits at a desk to meet people as they come in through the hatch. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #332 |
This time of the evening most of the officers and Marines have headed back off duty for time spent to their own pursuits. However some people just can't be assed to get time off when something matters to them. This particular night is the S-Three's turn to have at it. She's staked out a corner of the office, shoving two desks together with all sorts of recon photos tacked to the wall and a basic diagram of the facility lain out on the desk. She's got a cigarette burning between her fingers and a pot of coffee on - the smell not unfamiliar to the offices. Still in her blues pants, she's tossed the jacket on the back of a chair and is just sporting her tanktops for the time being. Not exactly official.
Decumius is playing with a tin of dip in his hand, clutching it as if it's a precious gem, close to his body armour. He's also still dressed for duty ,but in black combats - they must have been doing more training exercises in preparation for the raid. "Evening sir." He greets.
Vandenberg looks up as the man enters and gives him a nod, waving him over while the cigarette whisps smoke around her wrist. "C'mere. Want to go over an insertion op. Hope you don't mind the unofficial lack of uniform. I think best when I don't have to worry about that crap so speak freely while you're here." She ashes the smoke and takes another drag. "I got all your info from the Engineers. So talk at me. Want to hear what you're thinking for this infil."
"Scouts and recon and us folk tend not to hang too hard on ceremony there, El-Tee." Corporal Decumius says, a wry grin playing on his lips. He tucks the tin of dip away without accessing it, saving the commodity for another time. "Well, it's quicker and safer if we have some sort of drone thing cooked up by the Snipes and Knuckledraggers maybe go and do the demo of the reactor. Originally I felt that the recon would be better for that but.. naw. Time is of the essence, right? So if we can have a few snipes piloting our little drone-y buddies while we recon the objective… all the better." He clears his throat. "Of course, that's kind of contingent on whether they can build something like that. I have no clue. I talked to their Senior Chief. She's a former Marine, pretty amenable to helping us as much as possible."
"Good. Last thing I want in a planning session is a stick up my ass or someone else's." Wry words from Dog's CO. She falls quiet though while the man talks, her eyes drifting down to the rough schematics. One arm crosses her midsection and the other elbow rests on it, propping the cigarette up. "Taking out a reactor is tough work and I don't think we'd be able to pack enoug hexplosive onto a remote car or a UAV to make it worthwhile. We'll want criticality quickly which probably means a ton of damage very suddenly." She takes a long breath. "Besides, we're going for intel." One of the famous vague mission goals. "That central area where all that junk leads to? We're putting boots down there. Now," she pauses, taking a drag of her smoke. "I've got my own ideas for how to run this but I want to hear your own before I start running my jaw."
"Mine is pretty simple. Without going into specific timings, one question - how many boots on the ground we got?" The former Recon Marine asks.
"Not too many. Too many people in a confined space and no matter how well trained everyone is, we bog up ops. Honestly; worse case, and that means there aren't any robots, then a squad for demo, a squad for recon, a squad for security at the point and a squad in reserve at the airlock. That's totally contingent on stealth - IE, how many people we can fit in the optimal amount of ships so we aren't detected. So those numbers are flexy." Decumius says, his finger pointing non descriptively towards the plans laid out on the table. "A fireteam for each would work, if we were pressed. I like having a full squad in reserve though in case things get hairy, but again, way over my paygrade."
"Agreed. I want three squads on the limit. The more people we risk in there, the more we have to look for and risk losing to unknown factors." Not to mention potential enemy fire. Vandenberg ashes the smoke and slides around the side of the desks, eyes still on the drawings. "The Wing says we'll get any support we request so I don't think its a concern. I imagine they will push in first with Vipers and plow the road for our insertion Raptors." Bring your airsick bags. "I'd rather not risk reserve squads. We're looking at one for rear security, one for the reactor demo, and one for aggressive recon. We've gotta conserve what we send because if we're all wash then we can't risk the entirity of our unit on this thing." Another slow drag. "I like the hangars. Got a preferred way in?"
"Yep. There's a heat vent here," Lucius Decumius's finger slides across the plan to an area on the other side from the hangar, "that I like. The Senior Chief told me that because of the heat venting which the facility uses to make sure there isn't a critical overload, or something, we can mask the signature of the Raptors. And the heat vents are all weak points. It's also pretty damn close to the recon target. Like, the closest entry point. If the recon is primary, then that's our entry."
The Lieutenant nods a few times. "Well our Raptors ain't stealth. They're going to see them on DRADIS." She lowers her arm slowly and ashes into the tray with carefully timed taps. thoughts are ticking over. "Makes sense. Those vents would need to be there. But two things concern me: One, how do we know that these vents go anyplace except directly into a reactor Core. And two? If this thing is run by some kind of central brain and knows we are penetrating there, it could force a critical overload and turn that innocent vent into the center of a sun pretty quick. It would cut off our escape route if we even made it inside. Got any workarounds?"
"I don't know. Secret Snipe knowledge, I guess. They tell me that it's where it leads, I follow. I can't directly put my eyes on, so they're like my eyes in this case, sir." Decumius frowns; he doesn't look pleased that it's not a planetary target that he can scope out for a few hours, which is his normal standard operating procedure. "It'll have to do. As far as workarounds, the other route could be a hangar deck. It's on the other side of the ship. I guarantee they've got a shit ton of raiders in there, too. Not the kind of spot you want a vulnerable troop ship. But, it is a good choke point since they can't launch in bulk, I believe."
Vandenberg shakes her head. "I hate unknowns, man. No lie. That shit puckers my up just thinking about trying to get three squads of Marines down a vent shaft that is designed to breathe fire. I'd feel like a tosser ordering you all down there." She sighs. "But we know whats in that hangar. Most of their buddy boys will flush, probably, when our Vipers start slinging badass all over the sky. When they realize we're trying to breach there, they'll probably clam up." She gestures to the door with her hand. "I'd need the Snipes to cut me some mounts in the doors but I could blast through those things with some charges if I had enough HE."
"You're call, in the end. My advice? The back way is open when the front is occupied. As shitty as it would be if we all got fragged well… this is a no fail mission. We gotta do what we gotta do. At the same time, we're not going in exactly inside the heat vent. We're cutting around it, the Senior Chief was trying to say, I think. It's a weak structural point, because it's an opening. We're not dropping down the hatch." Decumius reminds. "Just an easier place to cut."
"Same danger. That kind of heat? We wouldn't have to be close to a vent to turn into human torches if it blew off at five thousand degrees. It'd be like standing next to a small nuke when it went off." Vandenberg shakes her head and looks to the wall and gestures him over to follow to a recon shot of the hangar doors. "Each door is forty meters wide and thirty high. Two-thirds of a meter thick. UV reflections and IR recon tells us its the outside coating is composite armor and the rest is cold steel core. Its got this godsawful lock mechanism here at the center, too. Damned thing looks like it opens out with two hydraulic hinges on each door." Its partially open in the photo. "We know what's on the other side, too. It sounds like insanity and the last place someone would try to breach. That's why we do it. Got a few ideas on how to wreck their frakkin day, too." That smile on her face is pure wolf. Eyes narrow at the picture before she looks up to Decumius. Lieutenant Menace wants to hurt Cylons.
"Well, I'm not complaining about shooting toasters, that's for sure. The chief snipe didn't think there were any Centurions on board, judging from the scans. I think otherwise, but it is plausible that there's very little internal security. I don't wanna plan for that, but the fact is they probably deem the ship impenetrable. That stuff about the structural integrity… well, I'm a Marine, El-Tee. A somewhat smart one and kinda trained, but I don't know anything about that stuff." Corporal Decumius grins. "You coulda said it's hella strong."
Vandenberg chuckles, but its a dark sound. "Its thick. But there are few problems that cannot be solved by the proper application of high explosive." She waggles her brow up at him and looks to the shot again. "I'm planning to run into internal security. Ain't a way in Hell I'm going on assumptions here. We got with what we know. We're packin' our guns in and nobody is talking me out of that. Period." She takes a breath and turns quickly to ash the smoke. "The Karlstovs will fire in vacuum. We blast those doors open, before we enter, we fire in a bunch of Karlstov rounds and then throw in a bunch of armed EML mines. They'll be frakked trying to make sense of what is going on. We kick in their front door like a SWAT team, throw in flashbangs, and move on to our objectives."
"Roger. I'm really not an expert at all when it comes to zero-g. I did it as part of my recon training, and that was the last time I touched a suit. So I totally defer. On planet? I'm frakkin' ace. Not so much in space. Too bad they changed my job description." Again, the Corporal grins. "I don't have that much more to offer, either. My idea was unconventional and I don't think particularly workable. So we improvise, as usual."
"Get down to the pool and work through the zero-g course we've got set-up. Its a pain in the ass but well worth the exercise. I've done a damned thing like this before, myself. Like you, I'm more at home kicking mud across the landscape. This is my first tour on a ship, too." Natalie shakes her head and looks up to him. "Unconventional is what we're going for. Those shafts will be our alternate escape route. Drag some snipes in with us and have them tote torches. Anyhow, we pop the front door and meet too much resistance, we scrub. I will not, under any circumstances, order my people in there if we're taking aimed and accurate fire from Raiders. Alternate insertion will be the shafts if Command insists but I think we can piss all over their weekend enough that they won't know tits from bolts."
"Oh, I have sir. About five times. But I meant in real space. It's.. not the same. Well, you know." Decumius nods at his commander. "Roger. Destruction is primary, recon is secondary, right?"
"Correct. I'll assign a team to the demo job that I know can handle it but we want our recon pushing hardest. I've got no doubt that Command will want to know what's at the core of this big bastard." She stubs out her smoke and crosses her arms. "I'll be requesting to lead the recon arm but I don't know how Command will take that. Bet your ass, though, I will not let anyone else lead that breach. If command takes this entry at the doors, I'm getting shot for it first if anyone does. I know the new Captain has plans to go along so we might just see how he handles himself at the helm."
"Ah, a babysitting job. Great. I'm sure the great naval mind will be well acquainted to close quarter battle. If it was the XO, I'd trust it - he was a Marine. The new CO? Well, guess we'll see. It's like escorting a frakking diplomat in the Jharkand Basin." Decumius taps his fingers in the table. "Well, sir, I got nothing else for ya. Mind if I get some rack and we continue the planning session in earnest, soon?"
Vandenberg chuckles and nods. "Alright, get your ass out of here. I'll let you know what command says. If they like your plan better, you're heading up planning. No pressure." The Lieutenant grins at him. "Thanks for the work, Corporal. Lookin forward to seeing what we can do out there." She taps a few fingers to her temple in a lazy salute.
Decumius is luckily not wearing a head dress - hence no saluting for him, either. But he does smirk, and mirrors Vandenberg's gesture, except it's in the form of a pistol. "You mean this, right?" A chuckle. "Thanks El-Tee. And hey, I'm up for the challenge. May as well be, been a frakkin' Corporal for long enough to know my job alright. Night." He makes his way for the exit.