PHD #126: EVENT - Get Me Bullets
EVENT - Get Me Bullets
Summary: A team from the Cerberus scavenges munitions from Audumbla Anchorage. EVENT (ST: Bannik)
Date: 02 Jul 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Bannik Constin Jenkins Shiner Sofia 
Audumbla Anchorage
Dark, dusty, rusty, and cold
Post-Holocaust Day: #126

Audumbla Anchorage wasn't built for fashion's sake. Or comfort's. Or, really, anything other than being a giant box to hold a whole bunch of munitions in. But the pressure in the dingy airlock where their Raptor landed is holding well enough for the salvage team detachment, and so the small group of Fleet personnel and their flashlights is just on the threshold of entering, the intimidating inner door of the Anchorage staring them in the face. "You've got the access codes, Sergeant. Specialist Bannik is in the process of telling Constin. "So whenever you're ready to go, we are too." He clutches his flashlight at the ready.

Boxes boxes. Sofia herself has apparently been absorbed into the team, and doesn't seem to mind. She keeps her flashlight close though and stays near the others at the inner door. She takes a deep breath, green eyes wide and alert. A nod at Bannik and the others. "Ready," Is all she offers quietly. Everything seems to be in check.

Constin nods once to the Deckie, before instructing his team, "Keep eyes out for Eye-Eee-Dees, folks. Don't know who's been by. Deckies, make sure somebody gives the goods a look-over before moving anything, understood?" A short look all around, with the words: "Let's go knocking then, boys and girls," the sergeant drawls, inputting the codes to grant the team access to the Anchorage.

Shiner snaps on his own flashlight. Not a handheld one, oh no, there's always one, isn't there. Nope, he's found himself a head mounted deal, leaving both hands free, in case he decides to draw from the myriad of tools he's stacked his belt with. I mean, because really, he's going to need a cordless paint stripper, a hatchet and a small bag of cable ties. "What do they look like, sarge?" he queries, squinting worse than usual down the narrow beam of light illuminated by his head lamp.

There's silence once the codes are inputted. Is the lock broken? Does it need some WD-40? Is it — oh. There we go. With a loud CLACK the team can hear the sound of the massive lock click open and whirrrr as it retracts. "You've got it, Sarge," promises Bannik, taking a step back to let Constin's team go first. The hallway in front of them is full of dirt and dust, the result of not having a regular crew here to do maintenance. The flashlights illuminate it, making the dust look like it's dancing in the air.

"Probably I'd watch out most of all for trip wires or that sort of thing. Last time I came on one of these, they had a trip wire or something rigged with a body. I forget the exact details, but we set it off and hijinx ensue," Sofia notes quietly. She seems more quiet, distant at the memory, eyes going a bit blank. She's keeping a lookout though, peering around as the door is opened.

Constin notes to Shiner's query, "Might be anything out of place, setting next to something useful, Wright. No one way of knowing, unless you spy wires or some shit coming out. See something funny, holler and somebody with a touch of demo training will look it over." Sofia's addition is met with another nod. "Yeah. Let's move, boys," he instructs the team as the marines move through the colossal door, assault rifles slung across their chests.

Shiner nods cautiously, turning his attention to the deck area in front of his feet, tentatively following the marine contingent out. He glances randomly from side to side, creating his own little light show for the entertainment of the dust bunnies.

<FS3> Bannik rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Shiner rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Constin rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Sofia rolls Alertness: Success.

As the large door swings back with a large SHUDDER. It's enough to shake the entire hallway where the Colonials find themselves. And then they hear what comes next. A loud CRASH, it sounds like, of metal falling against metal. Where did it come from? It seems like the end of the hallway and to the left, right around the dark, dusty corridor.

Shiner backs off a little, pressing himself back against the bulkhead, while one hand goes to his belt for a suitable weapon. Aha! A roll of gaffa and a set of snips! Fear, evildoers, fear!

Sofia notes, "There's the rifles and ammunition about this way and two doors down." She explains softly. She winces at the sound of metal on metal, almost bearing hissing softly. She tenses, eyes narrowing. She doesn't quite back down, but seems uneasy a moment. "I think it came from that way, yeah?" Peer.

And with that clatter, like a switch was flipped on, the marine fireteam shifts from standing upright with rifles slung across their chests, to a slight crouch with their rifles aimed in whichever direction they are presently looking. No panic, simply an instinctive response. Constin directs two marines to keep to the right side of the corridor, securing any compartments they pass, while Constin and the team's fourth member do the same for the left side. The rate of progress is that of a swift walk.

"Oh, frak." Bannik makes his way after the Marine fireteam at a much slower pace, letting them take a bullet rather than him should the need arise. The Marines' rifle-mounted flashlights sweep over the closed compartments of the anchorage, the lights reflecting off of the dull metal of the closed compartments. Finally, then, they're there. It's a closed hatch like all of the others, but sure enough, that's where the crash came from.

Frown. Sofia stays near the Marines, keeping her curiousity and urge to slink forward and peer around in check. She decides against getting underoof though. She tenses, eyeing the closed hatch. "Maybe something gave way or slipped off," She offers hopefully, squinting. She hopes, she really, really hopes.

Constin doesn't curse or really make any other apart from the low, "Clear," that the marines report back and forth to each other as they sweep without incident past the various compartments, until arriving outside the portal to the unusual. Taking up positions on either side of the door, and making certain none of the deckies are immediately in front of the thing once opened, Constin begins turning the compartment's big, wheeled seal.

"Maybe," offers Bannik with a nod of his head. But still, he hangs back, letting the Marines do their thing. And so they do. The lead element pours through the door once it's open, flashlights cutting through the darkness. And then it's clear what made the crashing noise — one of the support beams at the top of the compartment, one of the long, metal i-beams that holds up the roof — has come smashing down into the middle of the floor.

After that initial fact jumps out at folks, they might notice what else is in the room. It's seems like this compartment stored missiles of some sort, for the i-beam has crashed right down on a pallate full of them, sending a couple tumbling out into the middle of the floor.

<FS3> Bannik rolls Repair: Success.
<FS3> Sofia rolls Repair: Success.
<FS3> Constin rolls Repair: Success.

Ah. There it is. Looking around, you can figure out what made the i-beam fell. It looks like the bolts fixing it to the roof were just a bit loose and the opening of the main airlock hatch and the shuddering it caused must have made them fall out.

Sofia takes a deep breath. She looks to the others, tensing. This is not a situation she seems to enjoy - old memories roiling back to the surface. She peers. "It looks like - they were storing missiles and an i-beam came down huh?" She even points, "It looks like the bolts were loose and moving the door made it fall out yeah?" She seems relieved, untensing a little.

"Clear," comes the word from Constin on the left side of the room, echoed from the other side by Jenkins. Letting his rifle hang across his chest once again, the sergeant voices toward the deckies, "Any risk of the impact making the missiles unstable?" the big marine wonders in his ignorance.

<FS3> Bannik rolls Repair-20: Success.
<FS3> Constin rolls Demolitions: Failure.
<FS3> Sofia rolls Repair-20: Terrible Failure.

"Uh. Sarge?" Bannik's voice sounds perturbed. "I think you should come take a look at this." The Specialist has crept forward, peering down at one of the missiles that's come dislodged from the I-beam. "I'm not a demo guy, but I work with a lot of ordinance, and I think the warhead on this one's come dislodged from the safety." And that, as everyone might know, is a bad thing.

Constin narrows his eyes and steps around the mess to take the appropriate look. "Shit," is his inexpert commentary. "Jenkins, get over here and tell me how bad this is." he instructs one of the other marines evenly. "Nobody touch it yet, but is that the kinda thing we can re-engage?"

"Ummm, I don't think we should stay near it, yeah?" Sofia looks ready to bolt though the only thing holding her back is being the one who ran and left everyone to dust. It's apparently she dislikes what she sees, "It could go off…" She fidgets. Must've gotten the wrong idea, but she doesn't seem eager to find out.

<FS3> Jenkins rolls 4: Success.

Skitter, skitter. Jenkins comes up and kneels down by the missile that now a group of three — Bannik, Constin, and now him — have congregated around. He frowns. "Well, Sarge. It looks like we can try to rearm it, yeah. Or at least just snip the wires to the detonator. But it takes two folks to do. You think you can lend a set of hands." He looks up at the Marine, already starting to get his kit out.

Constin nods once. "Yeah, ah can. This thing at any *more* risk of going off if we seal the door back up?" he asks the team's demoman. "If not, then everybody else step outside and seal up the hatch," he looks back to Bannik and Sofia with those last words, moaking a motion of his head toward the hatchway they'd entered through.

Eeeerrk. On one hand, Sofia does NOT like the looks of things. "I don't know…" She admits quietly, "But I won't stay underfeet and I totally will miss you if you scre— well, no, the whole Anchorage might go up, so um-" Hmmm. She's trying to be comforting. "You can do it!" Yeah! Either way, she inches a little towards the Hatch.

"Besides the fact that if this thing goes critical, we're stuck without an egress from the room?" asks Jenkins, peering up at Constin with a puzzled face. "It's your call, Sarge." But already, Bannik is starting to back up, nodding over at Sofia as he does.

"Oh, so we'd have a bit of time, then?" Constin queries of Jenkins, with a raised brow. "Didn't expect that." So hey, some good news! "Nonessential personnel get back to the Raptor. Once this thing is stabilized, you all will get to do what you came here to do. Move," the marine instructs before crouching down to help out his squadmate with the near critical warhead.

<FS3> Jenkins rolls 4: Good Success.
<FS3> Constin rolls Demolitions: Bad Failure.

Sofia frowns, "I'd hate for you guys to get stuck here…" She looks worried. Her eyes widen at Constin. But on the other hand, she'd hate to be vaporized and her last thought be 'Well, frakk. IT BURNS'. She does as she's told though and starts to move out. "Alright, but please be careful." Sadface. Retreat.

Bannik too seems concerned, but he does as he's told. He backs out of the hatch even as Jenkins works to try to reconnect the wire that came dislodged back to the fallen warhead. "Frak, frak, frak," he mutters. "Sarge. You've got to." For all the hovering over the missile with wires and pliers, it looks like two surgeons trying to repair a fallen Marine or something. "Get it up here." He gestures frustratedly. "Frak." Poor Constin is all thumbs while Jenkins works carefully.

<FS3> Jenkins rolls 4: Success.

Constin spends 1 luck points on No splodey.
<FS3> Constin rolls Demolitions: Success.

Sofia will wait where she's told although she might be chided for poking her head out to see… they aren't gonna die are they?

Constin doesn't curse when the project starts to go badly. Just like he doesnt curse when bullets start flying. He scowls ferociously, stating curtly, "Think ah got it- Where's this thing anchor down?" Fingers are pressing intact wires out of the way, sorting one cluster of connections from another between thumb and forefinger, while the pliers are set back down with a slow, tight breath let out through flared nostrils. "We secure, here?"

There's a long pause as Jenkins checks the warhead. "Yeah," he says finally with a sigh of relief. "We're secure."

And so, with the warhead put together, the salvage teams are able to do what they came here to do: To inventory and begin hauling out arms for Cerberus and her small Battlegroup. The big find? Two nuclear missiles that are capable of being fired from Cerberus's missile launch platform, replacements for the warheads used over Leonis. Nukes make for more work, though, and already Marines are going to have to be stationed around-the-clock outside of the compartment until Cerberus is able to send over a nuclear-trained team to bring them out. But as the carts and dollies and Roombas begin to invade the Anchorage to resupply Cerberus, one thing is clear: That was a close one.

Horray! Sofia seems relieved though, and glad to find what they do. She thoroughly Roombas about the place, glad for some resupplying action and glad her Marine buddies didn't get blown to Kingdom Come. She smiles at Bannik, and offers something, "Hey. I'll find you after this. I have some stuff for you." She bobs her head, before returning to her work and all things 3M-y.

Constin settles in to keep sentry over the nukes, until relief teams from the Cerb can arrive. The sergeant doesn't say much, keeping his frowning stare fixed firmly in place while the various others go about their work. Oe would need to be very close to notice that the big man is still sweating.

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