| Coordinates |
| Summary: | Bannik finds jump coordinates in a salvaged Raptor computer and figures that salvation must be just around the corner. |
| Date: | 15 Mar 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Tug of War. |
| Players: |
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[ Hangar Deck - Port ]---[ Midship - Battlestar Cerberus ]
Post Holocaust Day: #17
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.
-=[ Condition Level: 2 - Danger Close ]=-------—-
[Intercom] Bannik says, "Pass the word. Lieutenant Oberlin, report to the port-side hangar deck. Lieutenant Oberlin, to the port-side hangar deck."
Bannik is just getting off the horn when the Chief enters the workspace. And that's when Tyr's eyes light up. "Chief! Chief!" He bounces up on his heels, making the already tall tech taller, waving his hand back and forth like he's trying to run for office or flag Atreus's Viper into its parking space. "Come on over here!" He has the diagnostic computer hooked up to a tangle of wires and computer parts on his work bench, and it has, judging from the crewman's reaction, revealed to him the winning numbers to the Caprican lotto.
Turning as he hears his sobriquet called, Atreus spots the bouncing tech and heads on over. The smile that begins is tentative, driven by the other man's apparent enthusiasm and the general air of expectation. Tucking his hands into his pockets, Atreus sheds some of his own pensiveness, "Hey, Bannik. What's gotten you all in a dither?" A light begins in his eyes, the sparkle tentative, but growing.
And more good news over the loudspeaker. Oberlin, with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder ambles his way up the stairs and snorts to himself. "Haha. You cheeky bastard." He says, not towards anyone in particular. But the sound carries through the stairwell just the same. The hatch then swings open and his boots impact upon the surface of the deck.
"Lieutenant Oberlin! Sir!" Tyr is then flagging down the Intelligence Officer, hearing his boots hit the deck. "Over here!" He does his best to keep himself from bouncing too much now that the officer is around, but still, the eighteen year-old crewman looks like he's ready to bust with all the news he has to share.
Atreus turns to look over his shoulder when Oberlin's voice is heard. He grins at the man, "Which cheeky bastard?" Good ol' echoes. Unfortunately, Atreus is not left with time to hear the answer. A loud *BANG TINkle tinkle* is heard from the work area near the salvaged parts that are still being sorted. The grin dies and Atreus turns that way, "Carry on, Bannik. I'll catch up with the news in a bit." The grim exression returns and; while he does wave to Oberlin, Atreus does not try for even a casual salute. Not best, but there you are.
"Admiral finally hauled himself out of his quarters and stopped smelling his own ass. Or whatever the Hell he does." Oberlin says, as he crosses the deck, with characteristic humilty. He's never going to make Captain at this rate. But really, whose career is going to progress in this situation? "Um, allright chief." He turns to Bannik. "Evening, Crewman." He says, slowly.
Bannik gives Oberlin a funny look when he speaks of the Old Man like that. 'Huh?' says the expression. But he promptly moves on, gesturing to the setup on his work bench. "Okay. So." His voice comes at a rush, like he's trying to get all of the information out at once and has to think to slow himself down. "Little bit of background. From the salvage, we were able to recover an entire Raptor's nav computer intact. And when a Raptor powers down normally, its systems write the last-known status to the nav computer's drive, for recovery and to make it easier when we power them up again. With me so far?" His eyes flick from the screen to Oberlin. 'Say yes' say the tech's eyes. He has more to share.
"Relax, Crewman. I meant it with love." Oberlin says, dismissively. He nods along as he listens to Bannik's narration, his lips twitching a bit as the ins and outs of Raptor navcom functionality are made known. "Mmm-hmm. So one of those things got killed by conventional fire and managed to hibernate due to catastrophic power loss, writing their shutdown state to the drive?" He looks straigh at Bannik. "You with me, so far?"
"I can't tell from the drive whether it was enemy fire that took it down or the Cylon virus that's going around." Tyr blows by the snark and just continues on. He's just that excited. "Anyhow. When I powered the computer back up to take a look at it —" He gestures at his screen. "This is what I got. Coordinates! They're a bit garbled, but they're definitely coordinates." He looks triumphant to beat the band.
"Coordinates?" Oberlin asks, his eyelids narrowing dramatically as he edges towards the console in a few rapid strides, forgetting whatever else he was going to say at the time as he makes ground on Bannik. "What's so special about that?"
"These coordinates were the /last/ thing in the Raptor's nav computer," explains Bannik, the excitement in his voice rising, if such a thing were possible. "And they're coordinates — I cross-referenced them against the charts — in the Parnassus Sector, right in the corner edge of Colonial space." And here's the big pitch in the crewman's mind: "This Raptor was jumping there before it went dead. It means there might be someone out there! Someone this Raptor was going to meet! Some of the Fleet's still alive out there!" Now, to a more calm mind, there might be a lot of other explanations for this, but for Bannik, the answer is clear. "We have to tell the CAG! Or the Admiral! We have to get out there right away!"
"Parnassus sector." Oberlin repeats, a twitch of his lips preceding the words. "There might be something there, Crewman. There might be something there." A little shift of his shoulders allows the duffel bag on his arm to slip downward. "Let me take down the exact coordinates. If we can spare a raptor recon, we should take a look. I don't have my documents with me obviously but I recall we had an anchorage there." With that, he reaches around for whatever scrap of paper he can find and a pen, tearing off a piece as he rounds on the console and starts scribbling. "We should keep this quiet." He notes. "Until we know for sure."
"Of course there's something out there," Tyr agrees, stepping aside so that Oberlin can write down the coordinates. "I mean, why would the Raptor be jumping otherwise? I bet there was some sort of signal or transmission. I bet there are ships just out there readying to figure out what we do next. I mean, this guy didn't make it, but we need to get there before they jump out somewhere else or we lose them. We can't miss this chance." His words are a breathless rush, the crewman clearly convinced that salvation is right around the corner.
"No. We can't. " Oberlin states, succintly. "Major Tillman will probably want a look at this. As will the Admiral." He notes as he scribbles down the rest of the coordinates before stowing the pen. "Shit. We also should have a look at those Viper computers. Strike while the iron is hot."
"If they want a briefing, you know where to get me, sir." Bannik nods his head firmly, though all he really did was power up the nav comp. Not exactly brain surgery down here. "But the Vipers? I don't know. They won't have coordinates since they don't jump, but …" His voice trails. "Chief said we should hold off. He wanted to see about trying to upgrade the Mark II's to Mark VII's." His enthusiasm hit a bit of a bump.
"As long as those flight computers are pulled, I'm not going to tell you people how to do your job." Oberlin says, succintly, smirking a bit as he stows the scrap of paper in his pocket. "I'm going to take this to command and see what they can find. At the very least, there will be a clue."
"You'll let me know how it turns out, sir?" asks Bannik. He seems to have claimed ownership of this as his discovery, his eyes shining brightly behind his glasses.
"I'd be too much of a dick not to. Wouldn't I?" Oberlin says, craning his head about to eye the crewman. "You did good in this. At the very least, you deserve that much."
Bannik shrugs his shoulders. "You're an officer, sir," says the crewman, as if that explained everything. "But thank you, sir. We just need to run down what's out there and maybe — maybe some things will start to make sense."