PHD #111: CO2
Summary: Alessandra informs Coll about potential jump problems.
Date: 17 June 2041 AE
Related Logs: All The Way
Alessandra Coll 
Repair Bay
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.
Post-Holocaust Day: #111

The rumors have been going out around a jump team heading out early. Some Deck crew and a few Marines. No names yet. Just the gist. Its supposed to be an advance team to prep the Vipers for the inbound pilots and its apparently volunteer only. Insanity required. The team has secured off a Repair bay at a quiet end of the Port Hangar deck. No guards or attention drawn. Just a light on near the end of the long deck. Coll is already down here by herself, the jump set to come off in about five and a half hours. The woman is already in her flight suit and has it tied around her hips like any other pilot might. There's a set of six ejection packs lain against the wall and bags filled with weaponry, helmets set out and labelled. At the moment, Coll is loosening the straps on one of the ejection packs, knelt beside it.

'I'll take care of it'. That's the phrase that has been echoing in Sophronia's head as she left the Major's company, the task she put upon herself being what drives her here. A quick look around has her finding the person she's looking for and she is swift in approaching the deck hand. "Lauren. Need your help. Now." In other words, whatever it is she's working on is going to have to be put aside for now. And no, this is not something that's going to be come habitual, that being the pulling deckcrew off of jobs to lend her aid, but this is important.

It might be a little odd to see someone in a jocksmock sporting Crewman's pins, but apparently she finally put -some- rank on. She turns her head quickly to look at Allie and stands to parade rest. "Aye, sir. Just getting the final checks done on my chutes." She glances to the one she was messing with and looks back to the Viper pilot. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant Sophronia?"

"We need to check flightsuits, air compressors and air tanks for signs of tampering before the jump. We lost a pilot due to CO2 poisoning and we can not risk the same happening to anyone on the team." Allie notices the rank pins and gives Coll a quick smile as means of congratulations to her but it's all business for now so any verbal congrats will have to wait. "I'll help as much as I am able to but I'm a bit out of my leauge, here."

Coll's face is impassive. A hand comes around and slices towards the other end of the Deck. "Sir, your best bet would be to talk to Petty Officer First Rasmussen. He heads up the Aircrew Survival Equipment team. However, I've already pressure tested these suits, sir. Did all that on my own." She pauses. "Sir, is this in relation to the Viper stick who was killed? If you don't my asking?"

"Okay. Good on the suits. That's one less thing we have to worry about. Is there a secure place you can stow them until we need them? Someplace safe, I mean. Or are they needed for use now?" The name Lauren gives her is dwelled over even as she asks the first question which is quickly followed up by, "Is Rasmussen around, by chance?" When she's asked about the circumstances this is being done under she simply nods, Alessandra somber. This is an event which still hurts.

Coll's hands fall back behind her back while she watches Alessandra. "I can hide the suits. That's about the best I can do, sir. I'm not technically allowed to control them. I shouldn't even be down here. I'm banned from the Deck except for duty and everyone is supposed to inspect their own suits. So…" She looks a little sheepish. "I don't know if the Petty Officer is around, sir. Its possible. Though he may be off at the moment." Something clicks a moment later, causing her to blink. "Wait. CO2 poisoning?" She looks a little (more) pale. "My Gods, Lieutenant. Ens-.. I'm so sorry." There's genuine worry there and its not for herself. "I'll check out our own air tanks before we leave. So you think that- you know. That it might have been intentional??" Lauren's keeping her voice way down low while her eyes glance around towards the other end of the Deck.

Alessandra nods. "Don't do anything you shouldn't do then, Coll. We will just be especially careful when it comes time to check our gear before hand." This is just a small complication, she tries to remind herself, a little something to keep in the back of their mind without overly-worrying but, even then, she finds herself getting a knot in her gut, the tell-tale sign that she's already getting fretsome. "We'll get him on that once he's back. It has to be done. And done on the lowdown." The questioning from the crewman continues and she finds herself not really wanting to answer this, uncertain as to just how much has been made public and what, if anything, has been kept hushed. "It looks that way," she eventually answers, keeping it just between them by lowering her voice, "but that's something that needs to not be made public knowledge, if you catch my meaning."

A quick nod from Lauren. "Aye, sir. My life depends on it. I'll hide these things until we are down here to dress. Well, when they arrive to dress. I'm already.." Yeah. Duh. "I'd offer to do it myself, sir, but that's just not my specialty. It'd be nice if we could figure out who could sympathize with a giant walking can opener. Like, pilots- you know this- we look for certain things. Rips, tears, compression, all that jazz. Ground crew I'm sure goes into more detail. Checks seals. But.." Coll looks down to the ejection packs. "You know, if there was a vaccuum problem between the intake and exhaust from the recirculation system? That might cause CO2 poisoning. But that's a simple guess. And yes, sir, I catch your meaning. I sure as hell am not telling the Jump Team. Even after we land. They don't need to know that. There's nothing that could even be done."

"Yeah. I know. That's pretty much all the majority of us can do. Do the small stuff…" Allie says while she raises a brow at Coll, that being thanks to the 'we' she slipped in. She doesn't ask about that, however as she gets a feeling that Coll might have her own secrets to keep safe while they're preparing for the HALO. "I would normally be inclined to agree with you and think that it was an accident but I don't really think we can afford to do so. Too many coincidences point to it being sabotage, in my opinion. I mean, think about it…bombings, this. They just really add up to a whole bunch of…shit. A bunch of shit." Rolling her eyes, she smiles at Coll and reaches out, patting the enlisted woman on the arm. "Don't worry about it. We'll make sure everything's alright and then worry if results merit it."

'We' probably wasn't an intention phrasing. But she does it anyhow. Its just how she thinks about situations. "I don't consider anything an accident anymore. I got rather closely tied to three-oh-five and saw some of the details of that investigation, yeah? I don't even know what to believe anymore. Sometimes I wonder whether or not I actually did something wrong and I'm just going insane and not remembering it." For all the stress of the coming hours, she looks exhausted and not just physically. "Sir, I worry for a living. I'm a den mother in the worst ways. Fortunately I never learned the habits you see with them of being supernice and wanting to be everyone's friend. Never sticking their neck out. Doing so helps me justify my worries, sir. If you're going to do it anyway, might as well have a reason. Its not out of the way."

Alessandra would chastise Lauren for worrying but she knows it'd be rather hypocritical of her to do so when she's fairly concerned herself, it being something she really can't control. "I understand. I really do. Guess all we can do is try to not let it get too us too much. The worry, I mean. I…" Pausing, Lucky walks a bit further into the repair bay, looking around as she considers it all carefully. "I guess this is where we all do our jobs, do what we must do, and make sure we come back alive." Which might be impossible if the odds are too stacked against them.

Coll turns a little to watch Alessandra move through the bay. "Well sir, we'll get down there. We'll get your jets prepped. All you have to do is land, shrug out of your chutes, and dash into the hangar. We'll have it clearly marked. Myself and two other Deck members will be there to help anyone who needs it in order to get kitted for flight." The last part strikes Lauren and she clears her throat. "We're all volunteers, sir. I don't think anyone, including pilots like yourself, are doing this because we have a gun at our heads. Anyone who is selfish wouldn't be doing it because of the danger involved. We do it for each other. I do it for you guys and the Marines. You do it for your friends down there. We all, in the end, go for them, I think."

"I do it for more than my friends," Alessandra says with a chuckle. "One of those down there is a man I love. But how I feel for him is not what drives me. It's because I want our people back home." The jump gear looks so alien to her, the majority of it recognizable but only barely, and she eventually pauses to give some of it a closer look in an attempt to familiarize herself with as much of it as possible. "Gods, Lauren. Did you ever once think that we might be called upon to do something like this?" There's a slight undertone of awe when Alessandra asks that, it making her sound almost child-like.

Lauren dips her head with the mention of love. She doesn't immediately respond to it, though. "At the end of the day, we're all we have left, sir. Our homes and physical stuff we owned? To say nothing of our families? We fight for each other or nothing else, the way I see it." Her eyes eventually drift to the gear Alessandra is looking at. The Crewman's voice is a fitting kind of quiet to match. "Never in a million years, Lieutenant. Figured I would be sitting in a Raptor or at a desk most of my career. I don't even like heights. The only reason I'm down here with this gear is because I did my ejection training like everyone else. Those're my qualifications. I don't know any more than you do." As if that doesn't bring things home a little.

Alessandra is relieved to find out that she's not the only one who has very little training going into this. "Yeah. Well, sounds like we're in the same boat. Guess the others are as well. I've just felt so…nervous. Talked to the XO about it and he gave me some pointers. Going to give that a try." One last look to the jump gear's given and then she's stepping away, heading towards where she had been standing before, that being fairly close to Coll. "You'll be alright, Lauren. Everyone'll make it back out and home. I'm going to try to see to that personally."

"I'm scared as hell, sir." Coll lifts her eyes back to the LT with the admission. "I haven't nailed a weapon since basic training. Nothing smaller than a minigun, anyway." She swallows hard. "I just want to make sure these guys survive the jump. After that?" She shakes her head. Its easy to tell this is probably the dumbest, stupidest, and hardest thing she's probably ever had to force herself through. "Hope so, sir. We haven't been told what the plan is to get us off the airbase after you all take-off." Nobody knows how they are leaving and they are going anyway. "Just hope my survival radio works, Lieutenant."

There's a slow nod. "Well, yeah. I'm not very good with weapons stuff myself so I'm kind of out of my league there, too. But hey. Don't sweat the other details. I'm sure our XO and everyone else has the egress off of the planet figured out. You guys won't get left behind." Or at least that's what Allie hopes. There has been no commentary made as far as that part of all of this goes, leaving her slightly panicky as she thinks about it, her own sudden welling of fear held in check as not to make Coll's own any worse for her.

Coll draws a slow, shakey breath and looks to the huge amount of gear they are packing. "Uh, sir. I don't think there's a-one of us who is worried about gettin' left behind. I know the other two knuckledraggers have already had their last rites given. We run into resistance down there? Three Marines. Three Deck." Not much of a fighting force. Those odds couldn't be lost on anyone. "Nobody is looking to get killed but don't send a Raptor back for dead bodies, sir. Please? Don't risk another crew down there."

Alessandra looks up and gasps, tears immediately forming in her eyes. "You guys aren't expecting to come back," she mouths, trying to get that out but those words just kind of get stuck somewhere between her brain and her lips. Yeah, this is not fun to discuss. When Coll then asks her to not go back for the bodies, if there are any, her glistening eyes narrowing a bit. "I can't make any promises where that goes, Coll. XO and the others might just very well have us come and get you."

Lauren doesn't return the same shock. She's already been there and back in the last week. There's just a gentle shake of her head while standing at parade rest. "Its okay, though. We go for each other, sir. Some of us are crazy. Some aren't too worried about dying. All of us just want to do right, Lieutenant. That means we jump. Then we do what we're trained for. I really don't want another crew to jump down there for us, though. If we happen to somehow make it onto a Raptor?" She glances to the equipment as if there is a miracle to be dispensed by the ripcords. "Then we do. But sending one back there? If we're dead, we could be anywhere. In any condition. Risking more living pilots? For dead enlisted? They would sit on our bodies and just wait for you all to come back. Please don't do that to us, sir."

"Alright. I'll let Tillman know what your wishes are in this regards, Crewman Coll." Not that Lucky wants to do this but she's gotten used to being the messenger when it comes to bad news, a role she doesn't like to assume but it is something she has shouldered as part of her duty. "Okay. Look, I'm not going to lie. I'm one step shy of bawling, here. I don't like death. Hate it, in fact. So, yeah. I'll tell the XO what you're wanting, here, let you get back to work and….uh…ahem. Yeah. I guess that is all, Crewman. Thank you for your time."

"Thank you, sir. I think that's all any of us really want. To just do our jobs, I mean." Coll holds her head a little higher. "I'm sorry if I upset you, sir. Just trying to be practical about all of this." She lifts a salute slowly, coming to attention. "If I don't see you down there, its been a pleasure, Lieutenant. Thank you for believing in me. Its meant more than I could possibly convey."

Alessandra gives a salute back, one that's meant to be as respectful as the one she receives seems to be. "You don't need to apologize, Lauren. Not your fault, honest." She lets her arm fall to her side. "It's been a honor serving and working with you, Crewman. Thank you for everything you have done for us."

Lauren dips her head and comes back to parade rest. She takes another breath before looking back up to Allie. "Just..wish I could do more, sir. I'll be here for another five hours if you need anything else, Allie." Didn't use her first name back in the Raptor sim but apparently it stuck well. The last is said much more personally by inflection, as well.

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