PHD #387: EVENT - Enter the Swarm: And In the Basestar Bind Them

Enter the Swarm: And In the Basestar Bind Them

Summary:	The Colonials venture into the lair of the wolf and see the face of that which hunts them. This comprises the ground troop portion of the show.
Date:	20 March 2042 AE
Related Logs:	Enter the Swarm: One Gun to Rule Them All

Players:

Basestar
Strange and Cylon-y. Otherwise, given in sets.
Post-Holocaust Day: #387

---

The plan, so far as there is a plan, is simple: board the enemy basestar, eliminate all Cylon resistance, gather as much intelligence as possible, and play the rest by ear. Which isn't to say that Operation DYNAMITE BULL — whether that code name is better or worse than SILENT MASTIFF has already been debated to death aboard the Raptors — is devoid of bells and whistles, but rather that Intel's assessment of what goes on inside a Cylon capital ship is ten percent informed opinion and ninety percent "Frak it, it's probably got a lot of tech and shit."

As it turns out, "tech and shit" would be a fairly good way to describe the sight that greets the boarding party when their Raptors clear the wreckage of the space battle that ended just ninety minutes ago. An invisible forcefield shivers and pulses as the Colonial spacecraft push through into the heart of the ship. The walls and ground are springy to the touch and colored a warm, sickening red, all of which pulse every so often like the valves of some beating heart. All around this hangar are scattered Heavy Raiders and a veritable battalion of disabled Centurions frozen in the various motions of launch, and a single mechanized hatch is locked half-open at the very back of the room.

Looks like there's only one way in. And the gods only know what lies beyond.

"Alright boys and girls, this is a standard boarding mission, only this ain't like the foundries. We're not going up against your daddy's toolshed this time, but full blown tincans and their fleshy counterparts. Remember: War is hell. Let's send them there first." That rumble of a voice comes from the XO as he steps up next to Constin. Like the rest, he's kitted out for the mission, all too happy to get his hands dirty, with his helmet sitting on top of his head. Of course the most important piece of his ensemble is the cinnamon flavored toothpick that bobs in the corner of his mouth as he maneuvers a gloved hand to secure his chin-strap. Now. Try to be manly while you walk on pink fleshy floor.

Tyr Bannik is — as Damon likes to say — the Cylon subject-matter expert on 'Cylon stuff.' And so he is here, suited up in the black Battle Dress of the Marines, and looking ever-so-out-of-place. He has a toolkit slung over his shoulder, a video camera in his helmet rolling. And he tries to keep himself behind the Marines, just — well — taking this all in.

Settled with her GMAR and underslung remote fragger, Vandenberg is every bit the Marine right now. Fingers tap gently across both pistol grips of the rifle. That ruck on her back might look heavy but she carries it as if it were something she wore every day. Her eyes drift around the sight of mechanical and electrical carnage while Mathers speaks. Her eyes finally lift to Constin and then to Mathers, the rifle's butt hovering near her shoulder.

[TAC1] Pony "Dhaval" says, "Away team, this is Pony." The Raptor driver's nasally voice sounds just a little bit panicked through the com. "Dino just finished her scans. Atmospheric composition is seventy-eight percent nitrogen, twenty-one percent oxygen, and one percent CO2, noble gases, and all that other bullshit. In other words: breathable, but who knows for how long. We're cycling through IR and EM again but nothing's standing out. We'll keep you posted, over."

Iosif sits and waits to be told what to do. He nods rather numbly as Mathers get up to talk, trying to look like he's following along with all that and sort of failing. "What the bloody hells did I get myself into…?" he mutters under his breath. Not so audible enough to carry to the dapper Marine CO, but those seated near him - like Bannik - can probably hear. Like the other techs he's armed more with tool kits and equipment than battle gear, but the armor is still a requirement and he wears it awkwardly.

Body armor, check. Combat Rifle, check. Medical Bag, check. Though he may be in the process of being too old for this shit, Ryder certainly looks comfortable in full kit. The spongy floor stuff distracts him for a moment, and on a whim he crouches down for a moment to scrape up a sample of the stuff into a petri dish to examine, later. Curiousity, and all that.

Constin nods curtly once to Mathers' pep talk. For his part, the big Gunnery Sergeant looks much as he does before any action: stern, scowling, and lugging heavy weapons. Another day at the office. He double checks the spare barrel for the Zasta, carried at his side like some kind of sword, and sets booted foot to … 'ground'.

"You're going to have one hell of a song to sing after this one, right?" Cilusia gives Iosif a little nudge on the upper arm - blunted as it is by the elbow pads that are part of the battle dress - and a grin from under her helmet. The techies stick together, kitted out with their wrenches and socket adapters rather than rifles and cartridges.

Cora's gear-set is somewhere between marine and tech: pistol and extra ammunition, check; video camera rolling in her helmet, check; various pockets full of intel-gathering equipment and probably a couple more cameras, check. She goes over each pocket once as they land and then her sidearm twice and once more for good measure, glancing over at the little knot of engineers and deckhands before turning back to Mathers as he speaks. She gives him a bit of a nod to indicate that she is ready, even if he is officially in overall command.

Marrus is right behind Constin. A heavy boot following the slightly large in front of him. Marrus' features are mostly devoid of emotion. Neutral, blank. Though there is a light sheen of perspiration covering the man's features. The former professional fighter sets down. The Karl balanced on one shoulder. For now, one arm supports it, letting it rest there languidly as if a bag of luggage slung on his shoulder. Valentine brings up his second hand to the grip of the recoilless rifle. Stepping behind Constin, "If I survive. I want another chance to kick your head in." The Marine murmurs sternly.

The woman with one brown eye and the other green just stares at Manthers as he speaks, her fingers flex as she double checks everything on her. She knows she's not missing anything, but it's just something to pass the time. Lilith's mouth set in a hard line. The woman most of these people usually know as the loose cannon with the silver tongue is oddly quiet at the moment. Obviously something running through her mind. Her gaze on the back of what she knows to be Marrus' head, Lili shakes her hand and tightens her hands into fists. Stay focused Tate, she tells herself. No frakkin up now. A silent prayer to the gods is sent up, her head in turn. Let everyone come back safely. She prays. Fat chance.

It's not fun walking on whatever this flooring is, but Lysander does it with just swallowing the urge to look sick. "I wonder what that shit tastes likes," mutters the marine under his breath with regards to the flooring as he clears off the safety of his rifle: "Bubblegum? Frak that."

"Bootstrap will probably want to have his Raptor tie up five different samples of the same thing and haul it back to the Repair Bay," murmurs Bannik, a bit of dark humor, right before this all starts up. "But let's get it done."

[TAC1] Cora says, "Pony, this is Nikephoros. Copy that. Keep us posted on those readings if you get anything new. Over."

<FS3> Cora rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Cilusia rolls Alertness: Bad Failure.
<FS3> Bannik rolls Alertness: Terrible Failure.
<FS3> Lysander rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Constin rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Ryder rolls Alertness: Failure.
<FS3> Iosif rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Carmen rolls Allertness: Terrible Failure.
<FS3> Mathers rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Carmen rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Vandenberg rolls Alertness: Bad Failure.
<FS3> Lilith rolls Alertness: Failure.
<FS3> Marrus rolls Alertness: Failure.

Constin nods once, mutely to Marrus' words, not even looking backward as he does so. "Cut the chatter, team," he orders curtly, as talk of bubblegum and Bootstrap reaches his ear, deeper into the (literal?) guts of the ship.

Ryder chuckles. "Seems sorta meaty to me. We should pull knives, grab a bunch of filets, and tell folks its Cylon Steak. Good for morale." He straightens up.

"Don't make me sick, kay thanks." Lilith says with a hard grin towards Lysander before continuing to walk. Her little body might look weird by all the armor and equipment but don't be fooled. This lady packs some power in that body. Her gaze going this way and that way. "I am not touching that." She counters to Ryder, all in good fun.. well as much fun as you can have in this sort of situation.

Cora eyes the floor curiously, and bends down to give it a quick poke, refraining from doing more than that as she spots Ryder taking a sample already. "It is Cylon steak, I expect," she informs the captain before snorting softly at Bannik and falling silent. She sticks near the middle of the pack for the moment, eyes scanning the dead Centurions and Raiders nearby and those pulsing walls as they head for the door.

That ominous door opens up into a corridor that extends for as long as the eye can see. Being machines, the Cylons are fans of logic, preferring straight lines to winding halls that twist together like twigs in the nest of some schizophrenic bird — like Cerberus was described a lifetime ago by some irritated QUODEL staffer. As the Colonials press further into the massive basestar, the composition of the deck changes from flesh to steel (or some other grey alloy), which glints silver in the light from their helmet-mounted lights.

The walls themselves are a translucent glassy black, shot through by a single foot-long ribbon of glowing, throbbing red that goes on as far as the eye can see. Squares of white dance up and down the bulkheads and the elegant ribbed arches that hold the ship together, transmitting who knows what to who knows whom. And the further they walk, the more light there is. By the time the away team is a full hundred meters away from the door, the corridor is wide enough for twelve people to stand comfortable side by side, if not for the few Centurions blocking the way like eerie chrome pillars.

Constin mutters aside to the nearest officer- which happens to be Vandenberg, "El-Tee. You remember when the brain-bot at the foundry died, all the lights went out?" As the team steps onto metallic plating, and the big sergeant takes brief note of the very much still lit ribbon inset into the wall. He cuts off his own words as something up ahead catches his notice, the big Zasta being readied for firing.

[TAC1] (from Dhaval) The sound of blasting static suddenly makes itself evident in everybody's earbuds, followed by Pony's irritated harrumph. "Shit. Sorry, Team. I'm not sure what that was. Think Dino had to reboot our comms or something.

Vandenberg has her rifle up right up at the front of the pack with the heavy weapons team. She's held it at the ready the whole time, moving right along around the ornate, chrome pillars. She's right next to Constin. "Sure do. And the lights are still on. Which means somebody is probably still home. And on a ship like this? Let's hope the bitch doesn't remember how to jump before we can find her and kill her."

[TAC1] Cora says, "Pony, doublecheck that it was."

[TAC1] (from Dhaval) "What the frak do you think we're doing, Nikephoros?" Pony's voice has a definite edge to it now. Someone's evidently feeling the nerves.

Marrus steps solidly behind Constin. Giving a nod in response. Gripping the Karl, Marrus moves ahead quietly. The Karl resting against his shoulder. The big man looks around with a good amount of bemusement at their strange surroundings. His eyes wander down from the glass of his helmet to the red ribbon leading the corridor on the ground. An irritated grunt emits from his lips, hand leaving the Karl to thump at the side of his helmet in irritation at the sudden static. His hand returns to the Karl. Head going up to examine the pillars before Constin's sudden movement has him gazing straight ahead. Going to one knee immediately in preparation.

Bannik winces at the blast of static in his ear, shaking his head. "Frak," mutters the technician. "I checked that bird before it went out. I doubt it's a broken something on there." He glances over at Cilusia and Iosif, and then creeps forward behind the Marines.

Along with the others, Circe does a prelim turn on of her headlamps to make certain that things don't get shakey. The Foundry had gone dark and it was a need. No reason to think the same thing wouldn't happen now. The medic readies her rifle but keeps the safety flipped as her green eyes scan, taking slow steps forward and staying near Constin, her platoon leader. When the static feeds back, she mutters and lifts a hand to the side of her helmet, murmuring as she looks back to the techies with them.

Cora turns her head this way and that as they head into the basestar, doing her best to pan slowly, clearly trying to make sure as much detail as possible is captured on camera. Pony's comm chatter seems to annoy her, but she's distracted by something up ahead, and she gestures to indicate potential contacts. "I think we've got something up ahead," she says quietly into the comms, "This thing is not as fried as Areion promised."

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Whatever that was, Team, it didn't come from us. Dino's trying to chase it down."

"I ain't the one that said it was cookable," remarks Sergeant Lysander to little Lilith before hushing up and turning his attention to the forefront. For some reason, he ends up being on point by the graces of the fates and steadily continues forward past bulkhead and Centurion alike. A moment upon there being a squelch of static to their comms, the marksman inclines his head and then holds up a signal to stop before aiming forward; "Shit, I saw movement."

Vandenberg takes a knee and looks back towards Marrus. "If there are unknown skinjobs you keep that thing secured. Look before you fire. We can't afford to miss identification because you blew something's head off." Its a stern warning for the Marine before she looks back out ahead to where Elf was looking to.

Iosif offers Cilusia's crooked grin, albeit a less jaunty one than is standard for him. "Just hope it's not a dirge," he jokes as to her song comment, again under his breath. Well, it's mostly a joke. He sets forth as the others do, looking more to Bannik and Cilusia and Cora for a lead to copy. Not that he ignores the Tactical officer, he just seems to presume they'll know what they're doing enough that he can play shadow. He can't help but idly flex his boots against the floor, as if testing it. Or waiting for it to swallow him up. He steps lighter once they're back on steel ground, though the tension in his posture increases as they go along. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of the Centurions, fumbling to raise his weapon. "There's something moving up there, sir…" he says to Cora, a beat behind Lysander, pointing up ahead of them. "A good…frak, hundred yards or so."

Frak. Lilith thinks as the static bursts occurs and then she's moving ahead with the rest of the Marines. Her rifle is held at ready, head tilted to the side. Maybe her mom was right about all tech, it's pure evil. She use to say.

Ryder moves easily with the others, doing his best to keep his eyes on the situation, but he has to admit he is distracted by the oddness of the ship. it isn't until someone calls attention to movement. His finger goes to the safety of his rifle at that, not switiching it off, yet, but ready.

Grouped with the tech folk is Carmen as well, heavy with armor and all of the tools she could hope to carry. The corners of her mouth are quirked into something that's not quite a smile, her expression is far too tense for anything quite so relaxed, but there is no shortage of curiosity either. Her gaze goes to those around her and then ahead as the group moves, sharp, watching keenly for anything that might prove to be fatal while taking in as much detail of the ship as she can as well.

"Guess the Gun's only go so much 'oomph' huh? Foundries, check. Basestars…apparently not." Cilusia thumps along with the techies and other non-combat peeps, sandwiched in the middle of the armed bodies at the front and back. "Damn big halls though. This would make a damn nice place to stay…were it not Cylon."

Vandenberg gets a neutral gaze from Marrus behind the glass of his helm. His gaze lingers on her for a moment before slapping back forward. "Understood sir." He responds crisply.

"Movement! Anyone else got eyes on that?" Mathers isn't making conversation, he's barking. "Give me a forward sweep team, clear the hall. Non-coms linger back until the all-clear is given."

There — movement again, this time accompanied by the sound of a metal something clanging loudly against the deck. It's coming from what looks to be a common area of sorts — a circular room previously obscured by the dim lighting and the fact that a lot of Centurions have been stacked in a semi-circle around a central "island" ten feet across in diameter. Here, the path diverges. The widest goes straight forward into the intersection, while the other — a narrow path splitting off to starboard at a shallow twenty-degree angle — affords access to a series of control panels fifty meters down before it turns back to the main hall.

And here, from behind the wall of Centurion bodies, is where two machine guns roar to life, sending a steady stream of tracers speeding down the hall.

Vandenberg glances back from her kneel to Mathers, giving him a nod. She isn't as loud about it when she looks to each in turn. Its nearly a whisper. "Constin. Lysander. Tate. On me. We're going to leapfrog up. Mathers, be ready for us to come hauling ass back-" She doesn't finish. The guns open up and she rises up. "My team on me!!" She's letting go on full auto towards the barriacade while booted foot tromp down as hard as she can, running for the corridor to the side.

<FS3> Vandenberg rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Lysander rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Constin rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Lilith rolls Alertness: Failure.

"Techs, I see panels down that side corridor," Cora points, "I want all of you with me, we're headed that way after Vandenberg's team, see what we can grab. Ready?" She looks back at Iosif, Bannik, Cilusia and Carmen, giving them only a moment to ready their weapons and then follow the marine team across to the other corridor.

Constin nods curtly once at the order to leapfrog up. Then the gunfire roars to life, and there's no more time for discussion. Gritting his teeth and running down the corridor, he picks a spot to open fire on the barricade, in order to cover the marines running behind him.

There's not much about a pistol to really 'ready.' You just kind of unsnap the holster and pull it out, making sure the safety's off and that the damn thing's loaded. "Understood!" Cilusia calls out, gripping the pistol tightly in two hands, but not bothering to fire given the presence of the marine meatshields in front of her.

"What sort of question is that?" asks Bannik as he pulls out his pistol and sprints for the corridor — hoping — hoping — to get out of the way of the tracer bullets and the real bullets that will undoubtedly follow after them. His boots slam against the deck as he rattles in the heavy armor, trying to get towards the panels.

Ryder ducks behind cover as the shooting starts, and looks out. "Nice planning," he mutters in appreciation. Then he glances at the toaster he is hiding behind and shakes his head. "Damnation, I hope you don't suddenly wake up."

th orders given to the forward crew, Circe is about to ask something when the bullets come flying down their way. The medic shifts her rifle to the forward as she ducks low and attempts to move for cover. "Cover fire it is.." She intones to herself and then looks towards Lillith. "Lets get into a position to cause some distraction for the forward crew." she says to the other woman and presses herself back against the wall as she sights down and attempts to see if she can get a good shot at whoever is manning the guns but finds the barricade is quite the problem. "Frak…" She mutters.

"Contact," calls out Lysander over his shoulder. The barricade is easy to note by this point and now it's lit up with attention from the Colonials. He would prefer to take cover behind one of the dead Centurions himself but he's called into action and so the Sergeant is muttering under his breath and following Vandenberg - toward the barricade and soon-to-be heavy gunfire, running, center of gravity low.

Iosif gives Cora a short nod, hands fumbling to get his pistol up and 'readied' as it can be. "Ready, Cap," he says simply to her. It's arguable whether or not he *is* ready, but he hasn't a great deal of choice in the matter. With a deep breath he's off after Bannik.

Going down to one knee, Marrus presses his helmet to the recoilless rifle. The Karl is aimed and ready to fire at the barricade of centurions letting out automatic fire. The rocket sings from Marrus' weapon, soaring through the corridor towards the barricade rapidly.

Well here's what we've been waiting for. Lilith doesn't even nod her head, she just follows right after Vandenberg, eyes set ahead. She doesn't say a word, not to far behind the woman. Her head ducked down, she makes a beeline for the same location.

<COMBAT> Vandenberg passes.
<COMBAT> Lysander passes.
<COMBAT> Iosif passes.
<COMBAT> Constin fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap - Moderate wound to Cockpit.
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Engine stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Cabin stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Circe passes.
<COMBAT> Carmen passes.
<COMBAT> Barricade passes.
<COMBAT> Twelve1 fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Mathers with Lmg Tripod - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Mathers with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Marrus with Lmg Tripod but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Vandenberg with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Lysander with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Lilith with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cora passes.
<COMBAT> Twelve2 fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Constin with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Constin with Lmg Tripod - Serious wound to Right Hand.
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Circe with Lmg Tripod but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Carmen with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Cora with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Bannik with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Lilith passes.
<COMBAT> Bannik passes.
<COMBAT> Ryder passes.
<COMBAT> Mathers passes.
<COMBAT> Marrus uses a Missile He!
<COMBAT>
<COMBAT> EXPLOSION! Very Far From Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Body stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Raptor-1785y is not hit by shrapnel.
<COMBAT> Cilusia passes.

<FS3> Vandenberg rolls Reactive: Terrible Failure.
<FS3> Constin rolls Reactive: Success.
<FS3> Lilith rolls Reactive-20: Good Success.
<FS3> Lysander rolls Reactive: Great Success.

Constin's bullets ping harmlessly off the barricade as the Marines do their best to suppress these dug-in attackers. The smell of sulfur suffuses the air; hot brass and hotter lead spray every which way. Those Colonials pinned in the main corridor find that Centurions make for great cover indeed — but as chrome heads and chrome chasses soak up the brunt of the assault, one can't help but wonder what would happen if said Centurions suddenly decided to wake up. Not that anybody really has too much of a choice.

Meanwhile, down the corridor, Vandenberg's squad dashes forward with abandon. Their boots clang loudly against strangely slick metal, their weapons rocking back and forth as they run. Yet they're not so intent on what they're doing that they don't notice the odd and haphazard wiring laid out on the deck where the side path loops back to the island at the center of the intersection. Wiring that screams — mine!

Constin gives a wordless howl of grinding pain from behind clenched teeth as one of the incoming bullets shatters his right hand. He keeps up return fire, even if only for appearances' sake as the route of advance is blocked off by boom. "Frak- Sir!" he hollers at Vandenberg, on point and about to- "Lysander! Tate! Grenades!" he barks, words staccatto'd between bursts of the machine gun.

Ryder moves forward, following the forward team so as to be able to give medical aid when or if it is needed, and sure enough, Constin's hand explodes. The oughta just sew a combat medic to the big guys back.

Well, some of them see the mine before its too late. Vandenberg in the lead, she doesn't. Its probably scattered around with all the junk on the floor but she's intent on the corridors up ahead. She's flicking her rifle towards some potential movement when Constin calls out. She's already moving too fast to stop in time. She stumbles, trying to jump past it and turning her back to the wiring as she dies so.

As Ryder steps out of cover, Circe follows after him to stay with the ones getting pelted. Attempting to hug the wall and stay low, she watches his back and keeps her rifle lowered at an angle. Frakking hell, what a nice little lane they had for shooting practice. The centurions littering the floor will do well enough and moving for one, she ducks up against it, pressing herself into place as she can hear the grunts of pain from shots that had hit home on the other marines.

In the team of techs, Bannik darts into the corridor and out of the war of the bullets that zing and plink around him. Plink! Zing! go the bullets. But once they are out of the way of one hazard, they are in to another. "Sir! Sir! Mi —" But it's way too late now, Tyr. Way too late.

The rounds fling around him. His gaze flicking to Constin. A sympathetic flick of the eyes before, Marrus returns his gaze to the barricade. The Karl is readied again for its next fire. Slamming his hands against the grip, Marrus pushes one leg out as he aims the recoilless rifle on the barricade. Another rocket screams out of the weapon towards the barricade.

"Find some cover!" That should come naturally to most, but Mathers shouts it over the din of the gunfire as it peppers the hallway. His own chest plate takes a hit, but thankfully absorbs the shot. Time to take your own advice, XO, else someone else is going to be getting a shiny new promotion.

Cora sprints for the corridor, thankfully managing the trip bullet free. She takes a second to glance at the others in the 'investigation team', none of whom seem to be bleeding or screaming except Bannik— "Mine!" she shouts as well and then, "Cover!" diving to try to get behind a console or something or at least hit the ground before the thing explodes.

Her bootfalls are as light as possible as she can possible make them as Cilusia dashes off into the side corridor with the rest of the techies. The mine out in the mail corridor is the least of her worries, as she ducks and weaves to avoid the Cylon rounds that fly down the hall. When the call of 'mine!' finally goes out, Cilusia's got her back up pretty close to one of the walls of that sidecorridor and her eyes covered up.

With a grunt, Lilith dodges out of the way of the mine. Rolling on the ground, she comes to her feet and is on the move again. Breathing hardly labored, but there is sweat on her brow. She doesn't take the time to look over her shoulder. "Frak." She mutters, glaring. She's pissed now. "Thank the gods." She whispers softly, that was a close one.

Iosif is sprinting after Cora and Bannik and the others as fast as his long legs can carry him. Which isn't all that fast in combat gear and weighed down with technical equipment besides, but he's motivated. "Mine…?" He skids to an abrupt stop, copying Cora this time and getting the frak down.

<COMBAT> Twelve1 fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Mathers with Lmg Tripod - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Mathers with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Ryder with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Ryder with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Circe with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Circe with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve1 attacks Marrus with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Ryder passes.
<COMBAT> Iosif passes.
<COMBAT> Bannik passes.
<COMBAT> Lysander passes.
<COMBAT> Cora passes.
<COMBAT> Carmen passes.
<COMBAT> Vandenberg passes.
<COMBAT> Twelve2 fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Marrus with Lmg Tripod - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Marrus with Lmg Tripod but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Circe with Lmg Tripod - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Circe with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Ryder with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Ryder with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Twelve2 attacks Mathers with Lmg Tripod and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mathers passes.
<COMBAT> Marrus uses a Missile He!
<COMBAT>
<COMBAT> EXPLOSION! Right Next To Raptor-1785y - Serious wound to Body (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Left Wing stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - NEAR MISS!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Controls stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Body stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Engine stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Controls stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Left Wing stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - Serious wound to ECM.
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Raptor-1785y - ARMOR on Cabin stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Lilith passes.
<COMBAT> Corridormine uses a Mine He!
<COMBAT>
<COMBAT> EXPLOSION! Close To Vandenberg - Serious wound to Head.
<COMBAT> Vandenberg is not hit by shrapnel.
<COMBAT>
<COMBAT> EXPLOSION! Pretty Close To Constin - ARMOR on Head stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Constin - Serious wound to Right Hand.
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Constin - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Constin - Light wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Constin - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Constin - Moderate wound to Left Foot.
<COMBAT>
<COMBAT> EXPLOSION! Close To Lilith - Serious wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Lilith is not hit by shrapnel.
<COMBAT>
<COMBAT> EXPLOSION! Close To Lysander - Moderate wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> SHRAPNEL! Lysander - Light wound to Right Leg.
<COMBAT> Constin fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Constin attacks Barricade with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Circe passes.
<COMBAT> Cilusia passes.
<COMBAT> Barricade passes.
<COMBAT> Polaris has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

<COMBAT> Raptor-1785y has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Barricade has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Constin has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Vandenberg has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Constin spends a luck point to keep fighting!
<COMBAT> Vandenberg spends a luck point to keep fighting!

<FS3> Cora rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Bannik rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Iosif rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Cilusia rolls Alertness: Success.

Circe treats marrus:
< Chest (Moderate): successful

<FS3> Carmen rolls Alertness: Great Success.

The makeshift mine — really, just a couple of machine-gun bullets strapped to a big piece of plastic explosive — sets the walls a-tremble nonetheless. The thick red line shudders and blinks as translucent black glass shatters all around it. And then that small explosion is met with a far larger one as Marrus' second shot hits home. Thirty-odd chrome bodies fly every which way as the Karlstov does its job, and then from the intersection there comes the sound of panicked yelling —

"God, what was that?!"

"Irrelevant. Retreat to the Hybrid Chamber!"

"And what do we do about Three?"

"Irrelevant!" And the machine-gun fire ceases as quickly as it comes.

Constin gets thrown bodily over by the blast that chews into his already scored right side. The machinegun fire goes silent. Drawing himself up on one knee and braces on the metalliz deck on his intact left hand, the Gunnery Sergeant looks aside to the source of the blast and sees an intact Vandenberg. Living? who knows, but intact, and that is enough for him to holler, "Medic!" Before turning a snarling, blood splattered face aside to Lysander and Lilith, to whom he roars, "Marines! Secure the crossing!" Pointing his mangled right hand at the blasted Cylon firing position.

Diving and being small is probably what saves Van's life. She spins through the air in her dive, turning the heavy ruck towards the blast. Her arms and lugs tuck up to her chest, chin doing the same, just as the explosive charge goes, blowing fire and debris across the corridor. Her backpack and the back of her bodyarmor shred instantly and the rifle disappears into a plastic shards with the concussive force. The Lieutenant's body is flung sideays into the opposite wall as her helmet disappears down the corridor, rolling like a tire. She slumps to a stop with most of the hair on the back of her hair burned away… she isn't moving at the moment. Wait- no. Arms and legs slowly begin to move. Barely.

That first round might have been absorbed by Mathers' chest plate, but the second one wasn't and there is a wince on his features as he reflexively turns away from the blast. "We've got injured!" He shouts down the line, and then does what is necessary and leaves his little hidey hole and goes after the fallen to haul them out of the line of fire so they can be replaced on the front. The XO is making way for his downed S3.

Ryder treats constin:
< Right_Hand (Serious): successful
< Right_Hand (Serious): successful
< Right_Arm (Light): successful
< Left_Foot (Moderate): successful

Ka-plow! The mine goes off and Bannik hits the deck, the shrapnel flying over his head. It's from this vantage point that he's able to see something: "Wires! We've got wires! Frak. Where are they leading to?" He glances at the other techs here. "Let's try to find where these wires lead back to. They've got more things back here, they have to."

The ping of shots hit the Centurion stands behind and one banks off and slams into her chest as Circe is about to check the damage. She grunts, falling back a step with the impact and she grits her teeth. Dazed a moment, she blinks and narrows her eyes as she breathes past the pain gathering there. Once the firing stops and the cries for medics go out, the steps out cautiously, the dent in her armor showing but its the press of the metal agains ther skin that is causing the damage beneath. "Frak.." It hurts to move with the armor compressing her like that but she's on it. "Coming.." she keeps low, moving from cover to cover. She lets her rifle hang back as she she starts to pull free some items she will need. It is when she spots Lilith and moves towards her, sliding to a knee as she comes in to rest next to her. "Hey Girl, talk to me." She says as she starts to set down bandages and the like.

Circe treats lilith:
< Head (Serious): unsuccessful

Iosif spends 1 luck points on So not botching my first real Repair roll..
<FS3> Iosif rolls Repair: Failure.

Bannik spends 1 luck points on Not screwing up the wires..
<FS3> Bannik rolls Repair: Good Success.

<FS3> Cilusia rolls Repair: Great Success.
<FS3> Carmen rolls Repair: Good Success.

When the mine explosion followed by the Karl happens, Cilusia can basically just duck her head down into her chest a bit, and try to hold her ears. Still, it's disorienting enough through concussion and sound to send her for a bit of a loop. Mostly, she's just left to look at the deck plating aroudn her feet, as she slides down against the wall. "Wires. Yeah, I see the wires," she calls out.

A hoarse breath squeezes by his teeth as a bullet slaps it's way into Marrus' chest as he's driven backwards. One hand flinging out to keep him from falling completely. His eyes trace the hallway down to where his shot went true, a satisfied smile curls up his lips. The machine guns stopped. Good. A relieved, albeit labored breath heaves its way out of his chest. At least a round got underneath his chest plate. Marrus eyes sweep the corridor for his fellow marines. He glances to Circe, concern immediately etching its way into his features.

"Circe." The large man groans weakly, more to himself as one hand slaps against the ground to push himself up. His eyes follow the woman to Lilith, features pulling down. But his attention is ripped back to the corridor. He begins to stumble forward towards the crossing, the Karl held up and ready to fire again.

Over the bursts of automatic fire and a handful of explosions Lysander can hear the warning of mines. He jerks to the side and shields his face at the sudden frakstorm. There's a wash of heat and pain and the marksman finds himself on his side. There's blood coming down from his brow and a sharp pain to his thigh but the marine is still alive. Ignoring the ringing and muffled everything in his ears, he looks for his rifle and grabs it. Standing up makes him take notice of the lack of gunfire and he hobbles forward before looking down to find Centurion sticking out of his leg. He pulls it out and continues to the barricade with a short limp.

Wincing at the explosion, Ryder runs out from cover and dives to the side of the injured Elf, pulling his body to some modicum of cover. "Godsdammit, Elf, just because I come along on one of these merry jaunts doesn't mean you have to get yourself blasted to ribbons." Putting on the safety of his rifle, Ryder pulls forward his medbag and gets started with the treating, hands working as fast as he can.

Ryder treats Vandenberg:
< Head (Serious): unsuccessful

Iosif picks himself up, those long legs increasingly shaken. When Cilusia starts eyeing that panel he heads over to stick his nose in their with her. "Looks like back home on the freighter. You live on a ship, you get everything rigged up funny. Guess that's double if you're a frakking toaster. Doesn't look like this was a dash job, and they lead into the area with them bloody mines…"

Circe treats circe:
< Chest (Moderate): unsuccessful

Marrus glances forward to the corridor before turning to approach Circe and Lilith. The large weapon is slung back on his shoulder. As his steps carry him precariously towards the two women. Dropping to one knee, the fighters hand comes up to rest on Circe's shoulder. "You're hurt." He growls. Whether he's speaking to Lilith or Circe, it's uncertain. Peering down at the more seriously injured woman, his features are practically crafted of stone. "You'll be alright." He says to her, quietly. His hand hesitating on Circe's shoulder.

Cora ducks in time, but the combined force of two concussive blasts, one on either side of her, disorients the captain for a moment. At least long enough that she doesn't seem to have much useful to contribute to the finds the techs have already made: "More wires over here, too!" Bannik's suggestion that they trace them to their origin earns her silent, tacit agreement, and she eyes the consoles and panels around them, leaning up to briefly take a look at their surfaces as the others hunt down wires and their origin.

Vandenberg slowly tries to rise to he hands and knees and collapses back down to her stomach. Pushing herself to get back up, she looks back towards everyone behind her and the wires everywhere. This isn't the first time she has been blown up, apparently because she isn't screaming or yelling. There's no call for a medic. The Lieutenant looks down ar herself then and checks herself visually as she rolls over to sit against the wall. Breathing heavily, she has no idea what has happened to the back of her head. She unholsters the pistol on her thigh with a heaved, angry breath and points it down the corridor where they were advancing towards, a shaky hand trembling with her aim.

Lysander wipes his face and looks at the slick glove as he moves his hand back. He should probably get that looked at. That would be a good idea. Then again, he's hoisting his rifle's stock to his right shoulder and stopping before the remains of the barricade. The marine lowers his rifle and looks around the circular chamber almost-casually, almost. Adrenaline and lingering pain keeps him from relaxing. "Clear," of active Cylons, at least, for the time being.

Bannik begins to get himself to his feet, onto his hands and knees, and then. And from this vantage point, he sees it. "Guys. I think there's a motion sensor on this, some sort of thing down here. So. Like. Toss a wrench or something before we move. But still — get those wires."

The blast knocked Lilith down to her feet, her arms going out in front of her. She feels a hot pain on her head and has to wipe blood away. Things are dizzy for her and out of focus but soon they snap back so. "I know I'll be fine." Lilith grits through her teeth and she hops up and looks down at Circe and Marrus before moving off. Albeit a little shaky at first. "Got a job to do." She moves as fast as she can to Lysander's position. Breathing hard.

Circe treats lysander:
< Head (Moderate): successful
< Right_Leg (Light): successful

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Away Team, this is Pony!" A little late, right? "Gods. Dino just picked up some crazy heat blooms right about where you're at. What the frak is going on?"

"Hey there, Tate, talk to me." Circe's hands are shaking from the pressure of her own wound but she ignores it for now. She offers a smile to her and then the hand at her shoulder is looked at then her gaze flows upward. Marrus is studied through her faceplate. "She will be okay..yes." Intones the medic. Wincing a little as she shifts upon watching Lilith get up, she nods her head faintly. "Easy, there.." She intones to Tate and slowly rises gathering her things up before she looks then to Marrus, noticing a similar wound like her own upon his chest, she then begins to address it, a quick work as best she can given the situation. She does so in silence.

Grimacing at the wounds to the right arm, Ryder does what he can to patch Constin up, which ends with the arm nearly tied to the sergeants chest. Once he has done what he can with battlefield medicine, he crawls over to Van, to get a look at her head. "Easy there, el-tee, don't shoot me, I just need to take a look at you, here."

"Thanks Lagana." Lilith breathes almost silently before she moves off.As Lilith slides into position next to Lysander, her rifle comes up as well. Her eyes set ahead, breathing being reigned in for control. She flinches just a tad at the pain she's enduring but her arms nor rest of her body shakes. Using her will to keep herself in line. She's ready, "Well." She says aloud, looking through her scope and then back at Lysander.

The mine detonates and Carmen's is on the ground to be as small a target as is humanly possible, one arm slung over up to try and protect her head. It's the call of wires afterward that has her head snapping up again, pushing off the ground to continue forward, following the wires right to the pannel in which they're connected. She doesn't touch it, not yet, but she is leaning in closer, inspecting the wires as her lips move as if counting something silently. This goes on for no more than thirty seconds before she's looking up to the other techs nearby. "They all have yellow wires attached, look," she gestures, pointing to one bunch of wires, "Blue, red, red and yellow." And the next." Green, green, red and yellow. But they all have yellow."

Looking through his own faceplate to Circe as she goes to tend to his wound. His gaze on her remains stoic and neutral. "Are you alright?" He asks quietly. Marrus watches her for a moment before forcing a small smile. "Would you mind staying behind me? I make a good wall."

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Away Team, Pony. Come in!"

[TAC1] Cora says, "Pony, Nikephoros. We ran into some Cylons that weren't fried. What you saw would be a couple shots with the Karlstov blowing their barricade, and a mine exploding on us."

[TAC1] Cora says, "I hope that's what you saw, anyway. If you've got more heat than that, let me know."

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "I can call in the SAR bird if we need an evac. As for your question, Dino's — wait. Hold one."

Vandenberg doesn't even seem to hear the approach of Ryder but the words seem to take her by surprise. She's breathing very heavily, trying to get it under control. The sidearm is still pointed down the corridor, rattling a bit with the trembling in her hands. She just barely seems to notice the radio calls. "Hey Doc." Its a little louder than it might be normally, her teetch clenched hard. "Think I might be okay. Left side of my head hurts like shit." Spoken with the same shakes that grip her hand.

"Sweet Aphrodite's Tits…" Iosif mutters over the panel as he and Cilusia examine it. Which must be pretty interesting if it's getting him all excited what with the death and Cylon explosions going off all around them. "Captain!" He raises a hand to hastily motion to Cora. "This is a hell of a trick. It's like…a sapper's map or some what. Deck plans and the like for the whole mess of the place. Set up to show where's safe to do on the decks to step and where ain't. I think…err…" As he squints at it he suddenly sounds less sure and more puzzled. A look to Cilusia, wide-eyed, as if she might make more of it.

Lysander reaches up to wipe his head again. He releases his rifle in order to let it rest over the front of his torso and lift up the front of his helmet. It kept him from losing his head but the bleeding is becoming a nuisance. He winces heavily in touching his temples and stops. Propping the ridged heel of a boot atop a nearby metal carcass, he's finally noticing people talking. First, it's his wireless. The next is Lilith. "Let the others recover some, then," he angles his attention forward from his forward position and then closes his eyes. "And the techs…" He reaches back for his rifle.

"Did you see that Centurion, used it and I still got hit. Not sure I want a smaller wall." Circe intones, trying to speak with some humor. Damage, so many injured. Circe grimaces a little. "I am fine..just get up there and help them." She intones, doing what little she can given where his armor rests. Her head turns and she looks back to the forward position with Lilith and Lysander. A long breath is drawn, worry painted on her face as she presses fingers to the dented armor, grunting as she tries to shrink back into it. "Move with me, give me cover." With that she is lowering herself to use the incoming barricade that had been their bane as a sight block so that she can get near the two rifleman. Her eyes settle on Lysander and as she gets close, notices the blood.

The Marine XO makes cautious headway towards Vandenberg, keeping his head down as he threads towards her in case there are any more surprises from beyond the destroyed barricade. Once he hears Cora's voice in his ear, he breathes a little easier. Now he won't have to respond to their ride /and/ try not to lose his head. The word 'frak' almost escapes his lips as he comes up on the fallen S3. "You're going back." He says a little louder than normal, all their ears ringing no doubt from the detonation in the hall. "Pull her off the line, medic. Have some snipes haul her back to transport and then get your ass back up here. MOVE."

"What the frak is this?" Cilusia says, poking around at one of those panels. "Gotta ship diagram…deck 1, 2, 3…on and on. That much makes sense. Some sort of master plan…all their boobytraps laid out for all to see," she says with a hmmmmmm. "Let's see here…panel. Access panel…" and with a not-so-subtle punch and bang with the first tool she can get, Cilusia opens up the guts for that display. "Well, isn't that frakkin' pleasant. You watch that screen," she tells Iosif, as she sorts the wires, and starts to plug them back in. The panel that looked dead starts to come back to life with lots of red lights.

Cora is peering at the panel in front of her, the guts of which have been ripped out. "All decks green, so at least they haven't blown a hole in the side. Some sort of controls, one of you want to look at this?" she suggests over her shoulder. Chatting with Pony distracts her for a moment and then Iosif catches her attention for good and she heads that way, peering at the supposed map, "Can you read it?" she asks, multi-tasking as she asks Carmen, "And what's the yellow, then?" before looking back at the map again, head tilting as she looks between the deckies. They seem to know what they're doing, so she kind of just lets them do it, asking, "Anything on there that's labled 'Hybrid Chamber'?"

Ryder does what he can, but there isn't a whole lot he can do with burns like that. Nodding to the XO, he turns and gestures for some of the other medics. "Eltee, head back to the ride. The Sergeant can keep you company as well. Doctor's orders." Shouldering his med bag, he gets his rifle at the ready.

Like Lysander, Lilith is having a hard time with the bleeding but she keeps wiping it away and then wiping the excess on her gloves on her clothes. That's no good. She grunts and then nods her head towards Lysander, pulling her rifle up. "This shit.." she breathes out softly, taking a moment to look down at the floor. She doesn't notice Circe on her way over yet.

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Away Team, this is Pony — good gods. Dino didn't pick up any of that. She says the heat sigs from an exploding missile or mine would go away too quickly to register as more than a blip. Sparing you the technical nonsense: something's getting pretty hot where you're at, plus or minus a couple hundred meters."

Vandenberg hears Mathers after the fact and looks up at him with wild eyes, her gun still pointed down the hall. "Pardon me, sir, but frak you and your opinions. You got anyone else up here that knows demo? Piss OFF!" She's raging pissed and poor Mathers happens to be at the center of her sights for the moment. "Bandage my ass up. I'm frakking fine." She blinks hard at him. "Anyone touches me otherwise and I'll have ass." She looks directly at Ryder. "That includes you."

[TAC1] Cora says, "Pony, frak. Just straight heat, or nukes, or… any idea what we're looking for here?

"You wanna say that again, sir?" Constin challenges Ryder tightly at his 'doctor's orders'. Neither of the worst wounded are accepting the verdict. "I can keep pace with the column, still combat functional, and with more close combat experience than anyone else here."

"The Hybrid lair — thing! It's getting something in there!" Because Bannik is the fount of all wisdom here, master of the obvious. "I've got — we just need to yank the common wire that leads into all of these things. Anyone got it?"

"Is what we do best, so that others don't have to," Lysander takes the initiative of finishing Lilith's statement. He begins to step off of the Centurian half he had used as a foot rest and angles his attention to the others, looking to Circe's approach. "You shouldn't be up here…" Then there's yelling and comm.-chatter and the Sergeant is quite distracted trying to soak in it all.

Mathers straightens away from Vandenberg, "Thata girl. But if your ass passes out? You're waking up in the brig. Move on medic. Patch em and pass 'em." He takes a few steps away, pressing a hand to his ear.

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Nikephoros, Pony. Dino's trying to get you something more useful. For what it's worth, it's not radiological."

"We don't have frakking time for this." Ryder swears, and he turns on both of them. "You are both reporting back to the ride home NOW, and if I hear another word out of either of you that isn't 'yes sir', I'll have you cleaning heads for a year. YOU…" he points at Van, "have a major head injury, and you want to handle EXPLOSIVES? You can't even keep your pistol hand straight. And you!" he points to Constin, "Are this close to just having one arm. I'm declaring you both medically inelible." He glares at Mathers. "And that is NOT debateable."

[TAC1] Cora says, "That's something. Thanks, Pony. The techs seem to think they've got some idea what's up here. We'll see."

"It's the yellow one," Carmen glandes over at Bannik a moment, leaning in closer to the panel to double check and then nod. "Definitely yellow." It's after one quick glance around at the other techs nearby that she reaches to start tugging loose the yellow wires that are attached to the panel.

Iosif nods to Cilusia and watches said screen, squinting at it in the strange, dim red light. "PO Fasi's rigging it so we can, I do think. She's getting her plugged up," he tells Cora, shifting so she can get a look at the panel herself. "Don't look like it's written up so pretty as that, Cap, but there's something damned frakked going on about three hundred meters up from us. These EM emissions are bat-shit crazy. Dunno if that's your chamber, but it's something."

Mathers just points at Ryder, makes a little pac man with his fingers and closes it. Zip it. Then he starts yammering into his wireless.

"Well then you should have well come to me. You are bleeding." Circe says firmly. She is already drawing closer. "Helmet off.." She murmurs to him and if that would get him into cover, she will drag him down. "Don't make me set Ryder after you." She mutters. That being said, she goes to a knee and begins digging out bandages. Her gaze lifts to Tate and she smiles at the other woman. If painkillers wouldn't dull reactions she would have offered them to any and all.

[TAC1] Mathers says, "Nikephoros, Mathers. Awaiting your orders. We're rounding up to press on."

The woman from Canceron just -looks- at Ryder. "You ain't combat personnel anymore, Doc. As much as you might get giggles over throwing orders at me? I've got orders from the only one here who counts so if you don't want to treat me, then bugger off because I'm pretty sure someone else could use it. You think this is the first time I've been blown up? You want to have this discussion or has your memory gone? Treat me or help someone else." She puts her free hand to the wall and uses her legs to slowly stand up, rising off of it. The gun is reholstered for the moment as she cracks her neck. "Frakall, that's gonna hurt tomorrow," she mutters.

[TAC1] Cora says, "Mathers, we've got major heat and EW readings about 300 meters above us. The skinjobs that just bugged out of here said they were headed for the hybrid chamber, I'm betting that's where it is. When you've got your people in line, that's where we're going."

[TAC1] Ryder says, " Pony, Ryder. We have injured heading back your way, be ready for them."

"Yellow one! Got it!" It's a plan so easy that even a Specialist like Bannik can figure it. He drops to his knees and begins to yank out all the yellow wires in sight, trying to get tings squared away for the final burst into the Hybrid chamber.

Cora turns back to Bannik and Cilusia and Iosif and Carmen, and eyes them, a little warily, a little impatiently, and just a little bit baffled by what they're doing with all those wires and whatever. "If you're sure it won't blow anything up, do it," she says, "Then we're headed up to that chamber.

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Roger that, Ryder. SAR Raptor is en route. And — heat and EW." Pony's voice sounds just a bit helpless, just a bit apologetic. "Don't think I can tell you anything else except 'Yes, we're seeing a spike as well.' Our arrays just don't spit out anything that granular.""

Ryder glares at Mathers. "No go, Captain. This is my call, and they're both off of the line for medical reasons. Constin, Vandenberg, you are to return to the Raptor, and then to the medbay as soon as we're back on Cerberus."

[TAC1] Mathers says, "Nikephoros, Mathers. Copy that. We're moving out in two."

Lili nods at Lysander as he speaks and then when Circe arrives she offers the woman a nod and there is a hint of smile before it vanishes. Probably because she's wiping more blood away from her eyes. "Frakking hell." She mutters, wiping it away and trying not to get any in her eyes. Lilith blinks up towards the ceiling, becoming dizzy for just a moment before righting herself. "I want a spa day after this.. and a damn foot massage." She growls. Yeah right, keep dreaming woman.

[TAC1] Cora says, "Pony, Nikephoros, copy that. We're headed up to the source in a minute, we'll let you know what we see. Be ready to evac fast."

"In case you didn't get the memo, Doc, we're behind the lines. We don't frakking retreat without a good reason, or did you forget that shit after you LEFT the Corps? Quit bitching like an old woman and HELP these people!!" Vandenberg looks like she's heard enough. She gives the Doctor the stink eye and heads off towards the other Marines to check on their conditions and help if she can.

Marrus glances over his shoulder at the bickering, lips drawing down over his faceplate. Going to join Circe, Lysander, and Lilith he stares ahead at the obliterated barricade then looking back down to their fellow marines. "This is just the tip, and the Doc is going to send back our heavy weapons." He murmurs quietly, frowning some. "Might as well sign our death certificates while he's at it." The large marine glances past the destruction. Waiting quietly after his softly applied words for the next set of orders.

Lysander lifts his dented helmet again. He'll even try to sit and not use his right leg until it's treated. He wishes he could say the same thing for his head, even if thinking makes his brain feel like its two sizes too big. His senses are returning to him though. "I give excellent foot massages," remarks the Sergeant, "But." He'll use the corpsman as a crutch to stand back up but then he is nodding and tapping fingers to his helmet. He begins to thank her before glancing over to the approach of other marines: "They're liabilities."

Mathers hand falls away from his earpierce and he stalks over to Ryder, all the bull and gristle that landed him the XO spot in the first place. "Get one thing straight, Medic. This is my mission and these people are my responsibility. You are here in an advisory capacity and if my men say they are good to go, they are damn well good to go. So I suggest you stand down. If you're not going to use those bandages on the wounded then strap one over your gods damn face and shut the frak up and follow your orders. When they fall down and can't get back up, then and only then do you get to declare anyone unfit for duty and then only because I let you. Is that clear? And so help me the only words out of your mouth better be 'sir, yes sir'."

Drawing out the bandages, she begins to wrap Lysander's head, if anything to just stem off the bleeding. Allowing him to lean against her as the fighting starts to rise up further away from them, but not far enough. Circe doesn't allow herself time to listen, she focuses, addressing the Sergeant as best she can.

Once done, she secures it and nods to him. "Helmet back…" She helps to lower him. "Sit." she intones once more as once he is down, she move back to look over his leg, to address it just the same as she had his head.

"As one Captain to the other, if you insist on taking forwards an explosives expert with a damned head injury, then you're clearly just trying to get us all killed." Ryder grimaces. "I am the damned doctor here, and if you want your people effective, you'll frakking listen. But you have command, here, so if you insist on getting people killed because they don't know when to drop the oorah bullshit, Then SIR FRAKKING YES SIR."

"Liability or not.. I'll take one from you." She looks at Lysander seriously. "And I swear my feet never stink, I can't stand to have stinky feet." A light topic for a few seconds takes the bitter edge away from Lilith before she's cracking her neck and shoulders. Getting restless, she's ready to move. Bleeding head or not. "I'll even bring.." she winces in pain. "Some Cylon steak."

And so it is that the away team recovers (in a manner of speaking) from the havoc just two living Cylons and thirty-odd dead ones have wreaked. Having disarmed the mines — and who said being able to identify patterns wasn't a useful technique! — and discovered the location of the last bits of Cylon resistance, the humans move out at last, proceeding past that deadly intersection to climb the staircase leading up to the next level. Making sure, of course, to chuck a wrench (or something else along those lines) down halls to set off whatever remaining motion detectors there are. And with every little explosion the thick red stripe on the walls flickers faster and faster as they walk. So many white squares blink on and off behind that thin black glass that it's almost like the Marines aren't boarding an enemy ship but rather an enemy discotheque.

This must be the worst frakking party in the history of parties.

"All we're missing is a godsdamned DJ," one Marine murmurs, clutching her rifle closer to her chest as she stalks through the corridors. She speaks a bit louder than absolutely necessary, her ears still ringing from all those little explosions they've triggered. But when she climbs the very last stairwell even she falls silent. Because whatever the Hybrid Chamber does, it looks like they've found it — a cavernous room full of what look to be empty bathtubs, twelve in all, their edges black and slimy with some clear viscous fluid. The bodies of two men — no, not men, but Cylons — lie bleeding near the door. Carbon copies of each other and the Colonial pilot called Ryan Shaker, their mouths hang open in a look of surprise and rage.

And by the center tub — the thirteenth — there kneels a tall and muscular man, his dark hair styled with care, his white collared shirt and tight khaki pants stained a furious red. In his right hand he holds a dagger still dripping with blood; in his left he holds the hand of a pale white woman attached to a web of tubes, her lips moving soundlessly as she babbles and babbles and babbles.

Constin adjusts the carrying strap of the big Zasta- but only to carry on his opposite shoulder. Blood is seeping into his fresh bandages, but the Gunnery Sergeant has stopped dripping. His only commentary on the ongoing discussion of his combat status and the 'oorah bullshit' is to state, plain and even, "Oorah, sir," before moving to keep pace with the rest of the squad.

Vandenberg just trucks on with people, helping Constin if and when he needs it. She's come this far and she's not about to leave just yet. Pistol out by her side, she seems to have recovered, mostly, from being blown up. Except for the fact that part of her left ear was blown away and the burns on the back of her neck and head don't look at ALL pretty. She just continues along without a clue for the most part except for the occasional ask for something to be spoken up. It might take a day or so for that hearing to come all the way back. But when they enter the chamber, she isn't heading the pack. When her boots bring her in she stares at the figure standing over the tub. "Hold fire," she says to those around to pre-empt, the order stern, fingers gripping the sidearm by her thigh.

Cora completely ignores the marines and the remenants of their debate, continuing with her team (and the rest) towards what they guess is the hybrid chamber, with wrench-throwing along the way. The camera on her helmet films it all, and her sidearm is raised quickly as the unfamiliar skinjob poised over the hybrid comes into view. "Drop the knife!" she calls, probably futilely, before hissing into the comms, "I don't recognize that one, do NOT blow his head off before we see a face. Say again DO NOT blow his head off."

"This is frakking weird." Muttered as he strides along. Iosif searches for something more eloquent to say as he treks through the bizarre place, but that's the best he can do. It seems to sum the whole experience for him. He's got his camera on and is recording. In a scatter-shot sort of way that gets more anything he can get in frame than zooms on anything specific, but it's all 'frakking weird' and thus perhaps important. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the man, and the woman in the tub, and the knife, staring at that. If nothing else, it's captured. And weird.

Moving with the others as they enter the room, Circe steps slightly to the side as she looks down, hissing a 'frak' as she notices the dead bodies of the man laying about. It is the dim babbling that shakes her though. A shudder actually runs through her and ice fills her marrow. Wetting her lips, she tilts her head, lifting her rifle with a soft sound of complaint as she tries to see. Catching the sight of the man faintly through the others, she holds and stares. At the yell from Cora, she tenses a little, lifting her own rifle as images of the foundry's hybrid play in her mind. She grimaces, still breathing heavily and feeling the dig of her armor into her chest.

Mathers seems just fine with his decision and presses the team on past the medic. Because what's worse than having a demo expert with a head injury? Having no demo expert at all. When the team emerges in this strange chamber of pools inset into the floor, it's more disturbing than the previous time where they've seen just one of these goo puddles. Bringing up the rear of the group, he fans into the room, keeping his rifle pointed at the knife-wielding man, but his eyes are drawn to the pools. For this, he's more than happy to let Cora take point.

Lysander takes stock of the situation and then focuses his attention onto the lone, armed figure. All things considered, there's no reason for him to speak up. He does begin to wander away from the others and move into a far flanking position with his rifle trained on the midsection of the armed man. Ignore the pain, the surreal atmosphere, the bodies; the Sergeant at least tries.

Her eyes are ahead of her until they reach the chamber and she blinks as she looks down at the scene below. Whoa, creepy. Lilith stays on guard, not to far from Lysander. Ready to offer him any backup he needs, her grip tight on her rifle. She doesn't move any further.

Bannik is out of his league now, his hand on his pistol, hovering to the side of him. But he is surrounded by Marines who do this better than him, and so he defers to them. Just watching.

Cilusia tends to hang near Bannik, emerging into this room behind the marines and others. It affords her less clear a view of the dead bodies and the strange hybrid, which is totally fine by her!

"I think this is when I'm supposed to congratulate you on getting this far." The Cylon by the tub drops the Hybrid's hand with surprising tenderness, folding it over her bare left breast as he digs the tip of his blade into the deck. Pushing himself to his feet so he can stand to face the music. "I think this is also when I'm supposed to tell you I've got some ingenious plan to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I don't. Congratulations. You won."

And with a bloody smile on the shadowed planes of his face, the man turns around.

"But so have I, Miss Nikephoros. Miss Lagana. Mister Lysander." And on he goes, speaking the name of each soldier in turn, pointing the tip of that blade toward each man and woman he identifies. "Mister Eleftherios" is the last of them. "As for me, I've been called many names in my lives. It'll be for the best if you know me as Three."

Karl resting on his shoulder, Marrus flicks his gaze to Lilith before looking back to the subject at hand. The karl sags back on his shoulder as he watches the man quietly. Lips tightening quietly, his free hand goes to rest on his sidearm. Flicking the leather strap off of it.

Carmen moves with the group as they arrive in the hybrid chamber, close enough to Iosif that she hears the ineloquent words, but it seems she hasn't anything better to offer. There is just an 'mm' of agreement before her gaze moves to the cylon, to listen in a continued silence.

With a single target holding a gory dagger, Constin does not deploy the machine gun- rather, he draws his sidearm (with the intact left hand) and covers the talking skinjob. Something halfway between a smile and a sneer twists his lip when the cylon calls him by first name, but for now the sergeant stays silent, eyes narrowed on the cylon.

"I never could manage to feel bad about letting them drop you into that pit full of spikes," Cora says, though it is a moment later, as she does not interrupt the skinjob as he straightens up and speaks, tone even and faintly dry, "Now I think I'll even remember it fondly. Do you have a point? Something you wanted to tell us, something you want us to see? I imagine either you or we would be dead by now otherwise. What a boring dagger," she adds, "Your sister Fives have a much nicer one."

Ryder is simply staying back, gun at the ready, waiting for whatever is going to happen to happen.

Vandenberg looks more than a little surprised to see this guy standing there. Its weird hearing her name spoken by one of them, too. She simply holsters her sidearm and looks at him. There's enough heavy artillery around here. Nope, Natalie seems content to let the TACCO carry on. She reaches up to rub at the left side of her face and touches her ear. The Lieutenant makes a face that looks largely disapproving.

A skinjob. Circe's throat dries and as he points at her with the knife, she feels the weight of her rifle grow a little and the want to lifts it lessen as well. Breathing deeply in and out, she castsa a look towards Lysander as he is named and follows the trail of names. The medic shifts slightly on her feet, taking a step to the side as she gazes from the man and his knife down to the woman in the tub. She gathers herself and lifts the gun once more to aim at him, getting a better angle now as she clicks off the safety.

Behind the Cylon, the hybrid babbles and babbles, her soft voice thin and hollow in the tremendous chamber. "Reading. Connecting. Searching for peer. Initiating timeout in three. Two. One. Timeout. Retry. The giants who formed this world into its sensual existence and now seem to live in it in chains, are in truth the causes of its life and the sources of all activity, but the chains are the cunning of weak and tame minds which have power to resist energy, according to the proverb, the weak in courage is strong in cunning. We call out."

"That's a good memory you have," says Three in the meantime. "To tell you the truth, I want to thank you for that. A couple of my brothers who didn't live amongst you were actually second-guessing themselves after the attack, if you can believe it. I'm pleased my death and subsequent resurrection was enough to change their minds. Hopefully this more permanent death will have an even greater impact than the first one. But that's inside politics — nothing you care about. What you should care about is the fact that this beautiful Hybrid's on her last legs. And when she goes, the ship goes with her." His toothy smile widens. "You might want to start running."

While her gaze never leaves the Three, Cora whispers softly into the comms.

[TAC1] Cora says, "I want him alive if possible. Can any of you shoot that knife out of his hand?"

Iosif keeps his weapon drawn but it's held in one unsteady hand. His recording of this is going to have a lot of shaky-cam. He stays absolutely still, lips moving as he tries to follow along with what the hybrid is saying. As if it might hold some technical sense to him. All he lands on is another soft "Frakking weird…"

Mathers was leaning down just then to touch the goo with his fingertips when the Three mentions that the Hybrid is on her last legs. Well, to be fair, she has two that she's probably never used to begin with. His head snaps up and his hand withdraws as sharply as if he were about to touch lava. Not a marksmen, he doesn't even mutter his reply into the comms to keep the line free. Either way, he looks damn well ready to give the order to haul ass out.

[TAC1] Constin says, "Can try, sir. Maybe one in four."

Vandenberg isn't even going to comment. She's no sniper to begin with, let alone after discovering prt of her ear is missing. She almost misses the part about the Cylon dying but looks back in time to hear it as she involuntarily winces in pain. Looks like those burned away nerves aren't happy. She edges towards Constin, ready to help haul his broke-ass out of here.

"One Eleon McCrae wasn't worth risking a dozen lives for," Cora replies to the Three with a shrug, "It was a simple calculation. I would think a machine would appreciate the logic of my decision." Her head cocks faintly, as if amused, or curious, or both. She glances at the Hybrid, then back up at him, "It sounds like you're losing, if you need to die to get anyone to listen to you. And more than once, at that. Not very persuasive. Maybe you should take a page out of Eleven's book, or even Five's. They seem good at making an impact." Stalling? Maybe. Baiting? Almost definitely. Ready to run if a Marine can't make the shot she's asked for? Absolutely.

Lysander spends 1 luck points on Snipey McSnipey.
<FS3> Lysander rolls Firearms-20: Good Success.

Lysander tightens his jaw reflexively at his name being called out but he keeps quiet. There's a sidelong glance given to his wireless and then he looks over in the direction of Cora, lowering his rifle momentarily. The marksman turns back to aiming his rifle at Three. He murmurs something under his breath. Slow his breathing down and ignore being freaked the frak out by his surroundings; he ignores the pace of his heartbeat as well. His right index finger floats over the trigger and he then with his line of sight kept he takes the initiative and Cora's talking to fire a single round at Three's armed hand.

Lysander's bullet rings out — and then, pandemonium.

The knife falls out of Three's hand, clattering to the ground beneath his feet; the thick red strip explodes in a hail of glass; the room plunges into darkness. And in the ensuing confusion the Hybrid begins to let out her banshee's keening scream. "Feed downloading initiated — feed corrupted! Attempting to reconstruct — failure, failure, failure." The woman-thing falls silent as all around her alarms begin to sound. The very ground begins to rumble beneath as the ship's structural integrity begins to fail, compromised by vacuum where force fields once were — and as the sound of a man leaping into a nearby tub sends echoing splashes through the room, the Hybrid resumes her frantic babbling. "Opposition is true friendship. The voice of honest indignation is the Voice of God, and God is calling, and God is saying to O! God's children, turn you away from this path. Turn you away from this path. Construction attempt terminated. The end is the beginning but this time the beginning is the end. Time is the undammed river that plunges over the falls. The falls. Remember you the falls, Children of God is God is God is God is — "

Her wail is joyous, pure, a woman at the height of her ecstasy — and then from the tub there comes the crackle of a live wire and the stench of charring flesh. Eleon McCrae — Three — whatever he is — has made himself a pyre, and a tide of burning fluid spills over the side of the tub as the basestar rolls from port to starboard to port again.

But most miraculously of all? As the skinjob raises his hands to the ceiling, reveling in the pain, a single hole can be seen in his right palm.

Lysander's shot was perfect.

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Away Team, Pony! What the hell just happened in there? The LZ's going mad — we can't stay here unless we want to get crushed by the godsdamned walls! You've got five minutes tops or we won't be able to get you out!"

Having prepped her headlamps, they click on swiftly and Circe sheds light in the area as she tries to keep her feet during the trembling. The medic hits her safety again for fear of shooting a friendly. She at least has her head. But as the pyre lights and shes stares, her mouth opening agape at the way that the skinjob has sacrificed himself. Lysander is given a look from afar and as the ship rolls, she goes to a knee, shaken there as her knees get a little weak. The pain at her chest grows and she pushes herself back up. No screaming, no yelling but that comsys blares in her ear to keep her focused.

"Frak!" is Cora's response to this turn of events. And things were going so well! "Son of a bitch," she adds, at the Three in his convenient tub of flames, so close, but out of their reach. "We've got to go," she orders, as Mathers likely does the same, "Everybody back to the LZ before this thing collapses."

Vandenberg tumbles right to the ground, nearly falling right into a tub. One leg falls right in and she yelps at the feeling of the goo and scrambles as best she can back to her feet. Suddenly her head is pounding and she cringes -HARD-. She grabs for the flashlight from her vest and runs the torch around. "GO GO GO!!!" She's reaching for anyone she can grab with her one free hand, face flashing obvious pain. Blood pumps to her wounds with renewed vigor.

Mathers voice rings out, crisp and clear. "Evac! Move move move." And the XO is rushing forward to try and herd everyone out among the dancing beams of light, intending to go last.

Ryder is there, getting an Arm under Van's shoulder. "Come on, girl. We gotta move, now!"

[TAC1] Cora says, "Pony, we're coming your way. We've got wounded, it's going to be cutting it close."

Iosif can follow that order. To the letter. "C'mon then!" he hollers, sticking close to Bannik and Carmen and Cilusia as he gets the frak out.

Not having to be told twice, Cilusia beats feet toward the exit to this place. Tools and gear rattles up and down as she bolts at full speed, one hand on top of her helmet to keep it from bouncing around along the way.

[TAC1] "Pony" Dhaval says, "Nikephoros, Pony, we'll stick around as long as we can. No promises. Leave the wounded if you have to! Better to save half of you than none of you."

"Eh, shit," Constin curses under his breath as damned skinjobs have damned failsafes. Gritting his teeth as the Gummery Sergeant sees Vandenberg stumble, he lets the breath out as Ryder steps in. Not spending further breath to the orders already given, Elf simply moves.

The Marine S-Three doesn't need to be told twice this time. She clutches to Ryder, keeping the torch up in front of them. Her breathing is heavy, pained. Run like frak!

Lysander exhales in lieu of watching the world around him explode in chaos. He is rocked. He is rolled. The marksman seems distant in listening to the words of the Hybrid and seeing the hole brought on by his Righteous Skill but the yelling from the others nearby seems to draw him out of such decisive lack of action. From inaction to action does the man shift his weight and begin following after the others.

Her eyes a little wide, Lilith nods her head and begins to book it out of there. Looking over her shoulder briefly for Lysander and Marrus. She then turns all around and pumps her arms, vision blurry but she'll make it. She has too.

Carmen doesn't need to be told twice, so when the order is given she spins to hoof it back with everyone else, sticking as close to Iosif, Bannik and Cilusia as she can.

The Karl is slung over Marrus' back. He starts to move towards Vandenberg as she stumbles, but Ryder is already there. Marrus' legs begin to pump. His pace is kept slow however, keeping himself to the back in order to make sure the rest of the marines are in front of him. Should anyone fall back he will do his best to keep them pressed to the rest of the herd. Blood seeping down his chest as he pumps his legs powerfully.

Keeping to her feet for now, she shakes a little with the shudder of the ship. Circe turns on her foot, breaking her gaze from the living pyre. Wincing some, the medic turns, one of the last to flee the room as she starts to merge with the others. Her rifle is kicked back into place. Fleeing was the option, nothing more, nothing else. Her hand presses to her chest and she tries to drag at the armor to get it a little more loose and stop it from digging into her.

Ryder tries to keep an eye on everyone as they stumble forward, luckily, Vandenberg isn't all that heavy. "Someone help Circe!" he barks. "Move, move, move!"

Mathers only glances back once at the Pyre that was the Three, but at least in death he provides them enough illumination to get out of the chamber by. Any lingering back or lagging behind are soon being driven forward by Mathers and in the case of Circe, he's looping an arm around her waist and supporting some of her weight on his hip. "Don't have far. You can quit on me when you're back in the Raptor. Room clear!"

The basestar crumples around them as they run. The disabled Centurions that had helped them so much now become obstacles to be overcome. Gloved hands push at unyielding chrome in an attempt to smash them aside; bodies slam into bulkheads as the ship rocks back and forth around them. A Marine shrieks in agony as shards of glass cut into her face, one piercing her cheek, one nearly missing her eye. Another shivers involuntarily as live wires whip out from the wall, sending powerful shocks of electricity through his body. He's scooped up by that almost blinded squadmate and slung fireman-style over her neck —

Finally, just like in the movies, the Raptors of CVW-14 come into view, their blocky frames silhouetted against weeping walls and the thumping ground. Blood — the ship's blood — coats their cockpits and nacelles and wings a dark and viscous red. "In," the Marines roar — "Get in, get in now, now, now — "

Now —

The universe folds into itself as three FTLs jump to life while behind them the basestar burns, and behind them the Hybrid and Three and all the dreams they dreamt are incinerated in the silence of blessed space.