| Drop the Bomb |
| Summary: | Tillman drops the bomb on Damon. Ten of them, to be precise - of the nuclear variety. |
| Date: | 18 Apr 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Launch Bays - Lower Hangar Deck - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| Post Holocaust Day: #51 |
| The Launch Tubes of the Cerberus are essentially elongated airlocks with magnetic accelerators running their length. These launch areas have three tracks down the center to accommodate Vipers and guide the fighters out the end smoothly. At the end closest to where the Vipers enter is a small control room where the 'shooter' sits, the armored glass plate facing straight across to the pilot. There is also a small control box on the opposite side of the tube which, when proper keys are available, may be used to enable to pilot to launch their Viper manually. |
| Condition Level: 3 - All Clear |
Another day, another set of chores. While Sofia's workload has been limited, she's happily returned to duty. As happy as one can be on doses of antipsychotics anyway. The highs are even as the lows and it gives her a strange calmness. She hums softly as she moves down through the place, carrying a few tools. "… aw, dammit, it was the next door down." Fume.
Returning from waaaaay down on the business end of the launch tube is Damon, all done up in his vacuum suit. "Hey!" he yells to Sofia, waving an arm. It's not a friendly kind of wave, but more of a 'What the frak!' kind of flail. He starts jogging back - it's a very slow jog, considering all the crap he's wearing. "Oh, hey," he says once he gets close enough to recognize who it is. "Sorry, I didn't know you were down here." Pause. "Er… what are you doing down here?" he asks curiously.
Heads up! Executive Officer Inbound! Tillman walks across the deck, nodding to some of the crew as he passes. "I'm lookin for Petty Officer Damon." People point. People whisper. Its how it goes. Tillman looks to be on Official Business today, moving with a purpose. Spotting the target, the XO looks to him on the approach. A quick nod to Sofia. "Mister Damon. You're heading up Mechanical, right?"
Quick, hide the inflatable monkey! Sofia blinks at the waving. She pauses. That's a flail, not a greeting. She tilts her head at him with wide green eyes. "Getting lost apparently. There were some things for Deck Crew and I guess it was the NEXT door over. I always miscount. Is it safe? Should I get out of here?" She's mercifully in protective gear. "Man, you have no idea how hard it is to get this thing on-" She has an odd shape it seems. Then a look over her shoulder at the XO. "Sir!" She straightens and goes quiet. She starts to salute, but remembers her load of tools and doesn't brain herself with one.
Damon's look of ohshit! is not immediately visible through his helmet, which gives him a second to recover before he removes the thing altogether. "That's correct, sir," he answers. The helmet is tucked under his left arm, and there's no salute given but his feet come together nonetheless. "Come on, keep with it," he says to the others who've slowed down and started gawking on account of the unusual visitor. "What can I do for you, Major?" he asks, looking back to Tillman. Sofia's question is swept under the rug for the time being, it seems.
The XO looks to Sofia and Damon in turn. "As you were. Don't interrupt operations down here for me. But I do need to find something out from you, Mister Damon." Tillman glances around before settling on the PO1. "We pulled a good number of munitions off Parnassas. Including ten Bravo-Eight-Ones." Tactical nukes. "You are aware that those are not to be touched, tampered with, or loaded onto any kind of delivery platform without explicit authorization from myself and the Admiral, right?"
Alas, Sofia had a harder time hiding it. She does hide a smile at Damon's reaction though. She keeps the tools and things neatly under her arms. She peers though, listening quietly as her questions go unanswered. She pauses. Should she scoot or stay… hrrrm.
Damon's eyes widen a bit when Tillman mentions Bravo-Eight-Ones - so he's familiar with them, at least. "That's understood, sir," he answers cautiously, eyes scanning the XO's face. Where's this going? "Not only that, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to even look at a nuke unless I saw the orders in writing and had confirmation from the Chief as well, sir, if you know what I mean."
"Chief doesn't have positive control. Those orders come from myself and the Admiral. You'll hear them repeated on the phone and a member of Tactical will confirm. Even for maintenance. Regardless, I'm placing you in charge of making sure those weapons are secured in the munitions lockers. Contact the Marine chain of command and make sure that they assign a fireteam detail to those lockers." Tillman glances to Sofia. "Almost done, Crewman. Sorry to interrupt." He then looks back to Damon again. "Last thing: The rest of those munitions? I talked to Major Hahn about some of those weapons systems. She should be assigning someone to talk to you about outfitting or modifying our airframes to deliver some of our new payloads. If you don't hear from anyone in a few days, contact me. Understood?" He seems like he's about finished.
Blink. Oh man. Nukes are serious business. "No worries sir," She offers a polite smile. Sofia is respectful and quiet for now, keeping hold of her tools. She's a good background prop and perhaps doesn't seem to envy Damon about now.
Damon nods once, though he looks a bit uneasy about the idea of taking over ten nukes. Well, moving them, anyhow. "Understood, sir." He swallows and clears his throat. "The Bravo-Eight-Ones are to be secured in munitions lockers, and a fireteam should be assigned to guard each locker," he says to confirm his orders. "And to touch base with the CAG with reference to modifying some birds for carrying new weaponry." Pause. "Sir, that's, uh - I can take this as orders from you and the Admiral to move 'em, then?"
"They -should- already be stored in secured lockers, Petty Officer. Loose nukes do not a happy Command Staff make. Just double up on ensuring that they are secured and make sure that the Marines are aware. They already guard our big silos for them. This shouldn't burden them much more." Tillman watches a Viper get pushed past. "Well don't go to the CAG about the weapons systems, yet. I gave some informal direction towards it the other night. I'll draft some formal orders. Any questions?"
Oooh man. Sofia does -not- envy that job. She's already working in logistics and keeping track of stuff and she just looks at the two then. Oh man. Sofia is listening quietly. She doesn't peep up for now.
"If I have any, I'll make sure to identify them before taking any action," Damon says after thinking for a second. He gives Sofia a sideways glance, expression under control but his eyes screaming 'HELP'. Just the thought of nukes definitely make him nervous. "I'll ensure that they're secure, then, and wait for further from higher on the weapon systems." Yes, he always reads back important orders to confirm so higher can slap him in the face before he screws up, not after.
"Outstanding, Petty Officer. Carry on." Tillman gives a sharp nod to Damon and dips his head to Sofia. "Crewman." With that, he turns on his heel and heads for the hatch. Nothin to see here.
Sofia looks to Damon. "Oh man," She blinks. "If you need any help…" he has an ally in 3M at least. She nods and waves at Tillman. "Well, good luck. I'm sure it'll be fine," She offers. Hopefully. "I should probably get the frak out of here though. I'm Engineering not Deck." Grin.
Damon blinks as he watches Tillman go. "What… the frak just happened?" he asks, turning to Sofia. "One second I'm doing an FOD walkdown and then, BAM! The XO hands me ten frakking nukes?" He looks pretty stunned. It takes a second for Sofia's words to register, and even then, it's not clear if he heard everything she said or not. "Oh, right - you were saying you got lost and all. Where were you headed originally? I can help you find the way if you need."
Sofia looks to where Tillman went. "You just got…" Pause. Pose. "XO'D." She pauses then shrugs. "Things've been pretty weird lately," She offers quietly. She's not unsympathetic. "Guess he just dropped a bomb." Heh. Ba-dum tsh. Guess some things never change and that's Sofia's bad puns. She looks up to Damon again. "Erm, somewhere you guys need tools. The next deck over I think. I would've brought the cart-" But well. A shrug and a smile. "Company's always nice."
"Just… dropped… a…" Damon pauses and sloooowly turns his head to Sofia. A beat. And then a barely suppressed grin breaks out across his face, taking some of his tension with it, and he chuckles. "You're terrible. Absolutely terrible," he says. Helmet still under his arm, he leads her back toward the Port Hangar Bay. "Yeah, you're probably looking for the actual Deck floor. If not, don't worry about it - we'll take care of it. Are these the new tool sets in the big rolley chests that we requisitioned a while back?"
Teeheeheee. Sofia has a stupid grin on her face as Damon turns his head to her. She chuckles softly. "Sorry, I had to," She admits, smiling. "I missed you and the Deck folks," She confesses. She follows along behind him towards the Port Hangar. She nods, "Yeah. I was able to roll a few down. I gotta say rolly chest chains are hard to steer. It was /interesting/. But there's about 4 of them so far," She needs to double check them. She smiles at him. "And I feel all warm and fuzzy bringing presents to the people again."
Impulsively, Damon reaches out and musses Sofia's hair. She's not short, but he's still got several inches on her. "It's good to see you up and about again," he says in kind with a smile. "And you have no idea how much having even four more of those'll help. It sounds stupid, I know, but it makes our lives a lot easier if we can just roll 'em around to where we need 'em instead of having to carry the heavy frakkers here and there." And those toolchests can get hefty, some of them becoming four-man lifts. "Thanks. We'll hafta sneak you off a bottle of something, yeah?"
Daw. Sofia grins a bit at that. Sorta like a big brother! She beams after a moment. "Thanks. I'm glad to be. Still living the chemically enhanced life, but it's getting better," Nod. She smiles at him. "Well, I can't /push/ more than four," She explains. "But I think there's six in total," She counts. Poor heavy tool having deck crew. "They are pretty nice. I had to dig a bit though," She ponders. "Everything's being pulled every which way," She shakes her head then smiles. "That'll be fine. Long as I can hang out a bit with you guys."
"Nothin' wrong with that," Damon says reassuringly as they head on through to the Hangar Deck. "When I twisted my ankle, I used a crutch for a while. It's the same kinda thing, but for your brain, yeah?" Out of the launch tubes now, he sets the helmet down and starts pulling off the vacuum suit. "Well, now that we're back on Condition 3 and all, I'm sure we'll be having some drinks to relax after work," he says, glancing up at her. "I'll make sure you know when we have a little get-together."
"Hope not," Sofia smiles at Damon and shrugs. "Brains are weird," She follows and removes her own gear. "That'll be fun. I'm only allowed regular hours for now so I don't go unhinged apparently. I volunteer here or there if I get bored though," She admits. Hates to be a slacker she does. "I appreciate that," She nods. "I'll load these over there then and bring in the rolly boxes." Beam. With that, they go get totally awesome rolly tool chests.