| Unwelcome Surprise |
| Summary: | Cylons breach through the Repair Bay wall, catching everyone off-guard. |
| Date: | 11 Apr 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Concurrent with Blackout, Hammer and Anvil, and The Heart of It All; followed by Smokescreen and Blood for Blood. |
| Players: |
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| Repair Bay - Hangar Deck - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Post Holocaust Day: #43 |
| When engines need to be rebuilt or other heavy but short-term work needs to be done, this is where it happens. Large, red hand-mobile cranes are situated along the wall beside stacks of toolchests. Carts with various computers and electronics are dispersed around the area for quick access. A very conspicuous yellow locker at the rear holds a sizable amount of firefighting gear, as well. Sturdy metal stands are available to hold all sorts of parts from gun systems to the FTL drives of a Raptor. Big enough to accommodate quite a few Vipers and Raptors at once, this area see's extensive use and is usually attended by at least one crew at all hours of the day and night. |
| Condition Level: 2 - Danger Close |
Cappella has a clipboard he is in his normal on duty coveralls and is doing an inventory of repair bay supplies, checking things off his list as he works his way around the room.
Damon is hanging out by the Heavy Raider, as he's been known to do more and more lately instead of spending time out on the actual Deck floor repairing and maintaining. He's holding a small white disc-like object in his hand, circling around the Cylon ship with a curious expression on his face, tapping the thing against his leg intermittently. "I know I've seen you before…" he mutters.
Here's another day, another suit inspection. Today, it's the helmet of a bus driver up on the bench. The culprit this time is a oxygen hose inside that's developed a pinhole leak, causing some loss of breathable oxygen and unwanted fogging inside the helmet on CAP. Cilusia's got the helmet flipped over on the workbench, some of the layers of the interior pulled back, and is working the hose out to replace it with a length of new hose.
122 link screws….257 extra hose assemblies….3 targeting circuit boards.. <frowns that could be a problem> 72 extra wheel pins. Check, check check. Oh the fun of Inventory. Cap looks over seeing the deck monkeys doing their own jobs the Lieutiant gives them each a weak smile as he moves back to his work.
As Cappella offers a small smile, Damon nods to the man, deciding to take a short break from the Heavy Raider. "How's it goin' there, El-Tee?" he asks conversationally, nodding his head to his inventory. "You want a Crewman helping you out with the counting, make it go faster?"
"Make sure to subtract a helmet hose assembly. This one can't be patched." To confirm, Cilusia holds up the plastic-wrapped piece of hose that's going to go inside the helmet, giving it a little shake.
1430 hours. It's a day in the life of the Battlestar Cerberus, and a fairly mundane one, at that. The-under-the-microscope Heavy Raider lingers silently as it's comfortably entered a new life as a specimen of study. A few crewmembers scurry to and fro, carrying parts, tools, provisions and supplies. All in all, it's just that, a day. A pair of MP's maintain a silent vigil on their usual guard duty outside the open hatch. Occasionally chattering, but mostly silent and doing their jobs.
Things are fairly noisy, but the sounds bear the usual rhythms of labor one would hear in this place.
Cappella shakes his head, "No that might make it go faster." He smiles a little at Damon, "And right now I'm running out of things to do down in Engineering. Without the ability to send out purchase orders, supply tends to be a less busy job.
<FS3> Cilusia rolls Alertness: Failure.
<FS3> Cappella rolls Alertness: Failure.
<FS3> Damon rolls Alertness: Success.
Damon chuckles appreciatively at Cappella's reply. "Can't say we've got that problem down here, El-Tee," he says with a grin. And it's true. The knuckledraggers have had a pretty constant and consistent stream of work so far. "Y'know," he starts to say to Cilusia - but stops with a small frown. Headtilt. "Fasi, did you hear that?" he asks, taking a couple steps toward the rear wall, his ear pointed toward it.
"The only thing I hear is your mouth, Damon. Are you losing your frakkin' mind or what? I thought you were deaf or something." Even so, she puts the work down and turns to watch him. One brow is raised, and she cocks one hip to the side, hand on it. It's a totally bitchy look.
Cappella looks over from where he is working to cock his head, he shakes it then and frowns, "I don't hear nothing…."
It seems Damon must be preternaturally attuned to something, because not only did he 'hear' something, but something is indeed up. Suddenly there is a flicker of the lights and the sound of a *BZZZZZT* as said lights go on the fritz. /That/ got someone's attention, as a couple of the crewmembers nearby start eyeing the area where the snapping sound came from. And there's a sudden WHUMP, WHUMP, WHUMP that becomes audible as some shelves shake. That got the attention of the two MP's who wheel around to eye across the repair bay.
"Half-deaf," Damon corrects, but he sounds distracted. Another couple steps toward that wall. "Shh, shh, shut up," he says. But there's too much noise in the repair bay. He puts his hand against the wall, feeling for vibrations. "You didn't feel it, either?" he asks, frowning at Cilusia, and then Cappella. "Like a, a penumatic drill, but one that's got all frakked up, uneven." He tries to imitate the sound he heard, but it comes out sounding pretty ridiculous. "And then there was like a…" He makes a fist-hitting-hand motion. "Thoom." Right as the fist and hand come together, the lights flicker. Coincidence? Or is Damon ascending to godhood? As the WHUMP, WHUMP, WHUMP sounds, he looks to the others and says, "Like that, but it was a bit quieter." There's a second's pause before he yells in his loud, booming voice, "Everyone away from the rear wall!" He's the closest one, so he moves away from it too, walking backwards, keeping his eyes on the shaking.
You don't have to tell Cilusia that twice. She's already looking up at the flickering lights, and by the time that WHUMPing is getting loud enough to hear over the din of the repair bay, she's moving backwards on her own. Not before she picks up a big frakkin wrench from the tool rack though. Better that than nothing at all.
Cappella frowns as he looks around, "A sound like a drill on an outer hull wall?" He looks at the MP's "Prepare to seal that door if we have a breech, that is an order."
At first it's a few uncertain steps back. WHUMP, WHUMP. Then Damon picks up the pace a little bit, jogging backwards. CLANK, CLANK. "Shit," he hisses, eyes wide. "Get on the horn!" he roars, pointing to one of the Deck crew closest to the hatch. "Raise the intruder drill! Cylons breaching in the repair bay!" Of course, he has no weapon to speak of - so he runs to the hatch, screaming at everyone within earshot to run, run, run, prepared to close it as soon as everyone's out.
Fight or flight. In this case, Cilusia chooses flight. Time to get the frak out of here! As soon as the side of the repair bay is blown open, Cilusia is on the move, bolting toward the hatch. Wrench in hand, she runs through to the hangar deck, away from the Centurions, and looks for the nearest com box.
Cappella follows Cilusia out, moving to help her through the hatch with a push if need be. It is full flee mode right now, clear the noncombatants out of the way for the Marines, and find a place to make a stand. "Move move move"
The Marines dutifully start falling into cover and as Cappella falls back, one of them tosses a sidearm across the floor towards the guy who's apparently the ranking officer here. "Sir!" He barks, giving up his pistol. Unfortunately that puts him out of cover. The second MP starts taking potshots through the smoke. The angry red-and-metal forms glisten in the flickering, fading light. If one gets a good look at these Centurions, they are in fact — warped, somehow. Their skin looks a little scorched. Heat-damaged. Even melted, in places. They must have been hiding in the hottest parts of the ship. For a while.
[Intercom] Cilusia says, "Now hear this: Intruders aboard! Repeat, intruders aboard! Cylons have breached the repair bay! Repeat, Cylons have breached the repair bay! MPs please respond!"
<COMBAT> Centurion-2 attacks Mp-2 with LMG - Light wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> Mp-2 attacks Centurion-1 with Rifle - ARMOR on Left Hand stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Mp-1 attacks Centurion-1 with Rifle - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Damon passes.
<COMBAT> Centurion-1 attacks Mp-2 with LMG - Critical wound to Head.
<COMBAT> Cappella passes.
<COMBAT> Mp-2 has been KO'd!
<Intercom> Attention! Action Stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship.
Cappella moves to grab the pistol as he is running by, snatching it up and checking the saftey he falls back for cover behind the hatch.
It's not until Damon looks down at his shaking hand on the hatch control switch that he realizes he's still gripping that little white disc in his other hand. Gripping it real hard, like it's a stress ball or something. Forcing his fingers to release it, he drops it into his pocket for now. He's hiding as much of his body as he can from the gunfire that he hears. That's for the Marines to deal with. "Gods, no," he breathes, inching out to glance toward the warped Centurions. "They've come for the Heavy Raider. We can't let them take that ship." His words are all but drowned out in the firefight that breaks out - he hides behind the hatch. When he hears a lull, he looks out again. MP down. And messy. He pulls the body in by the foot to try and grab a weapon - just in case. As Cappella clears the hatch, Damon grits his teeth, and pulls the switch.
There is a flurry of fire exchanged, as one marine goes down, quick and bloody. The other marine didn't sign up for this. "SHIT! Hostiles are Oscar Mike! Man down!" He fires off as he starts laying down covering shots for the two unarmed crewmen to flee as Damon starts grabbing the weaponry. And the corpse.
Log continues in Clankers - Smokescreen.