PHD #373: Hashed Raider Update
Hashed Raider Update
Summary: Bannik gives Trask an update on the research into the Swarm raiders.
Date: 5 Mar 2042 AE
Related Logs: None.
Players:
Bannik Trask 
Repair Bay – Hangar Deck – Battlestar Cerberus
When engines need to be rebuilt or other heavy but short-term work needs to be done, this is where it happens. Large, red hand-mobile cranes are situated along the wall beside stacks of toolchests. Carts with various computers and electronics are dispersed around the area for quick access. A very conspicuous yellow locker at the rear holds a sizable amount of firefighting gear, as well. Sturdy metal stands are available to hold all sorts of parts from gun systems to the FTL drives of a Raptor. Big enough to accommodate quite a few Vipers and Raptors at once, this area see's extensive use and is usually attended by at least one crew at all hours of the day and night.
Post-Holocaust Day: #373

Between the now daily Swarm attacks and the preparations for the upcoming assault on the Cylon foundry located in the Aeolus Asteroid Belt, Bootstrap hasn't been able to poke about and analyze the two (2) triple-hash Raiders he'd towed in. Of particular interest to him was to determine, if at all possible, how the radiation fields of Audumbla might be affecting the enemy ships. Having been about a week since the last trophy was hauled into the Repair Bay, it's high time, in his estimation, to get a status report.

"Captain." In breezes Wunderkin of the Deck, Tyr Bannik, the Specialist who specializes in all things Cylon technology. He's in his orange jumpsuit, having taken some time away from repairing busted avionics to give the Harriers leader a status update. "Have you gotten Doctor Adair's report on the biological aspects of the Raiders? It's a lot more interesting than mine on the physical aspects of the new hash raiders."

"Specialist." It's an amiable enough greeting. For his part, Trask has traded the knuckledragger chic he was sporting pre-jump to Audumbla for the classic fashion staple that is a flight suit. "Not as of yet, no. When I last spoke with him, he was still analyzing. He finally figured out some answers?"

It is just a little reach into a folder lying on a work bench and — voila! Tyr appears with a report for Trask's consumption. "It's pretty fascinating," explains the deckhand. "Not a whole lot practical that we can use, except for a few things, but it explains a lot of what's going on inside those brains of theirs. And I do mean brains. They're like flying dolphins with KEW." A beat. "As for the hash raiders, there's no different than regular raiders. Just a whole lot newer."

And consume that report Bootstrap does, chewing over ideas, digesting the analysis. "Too bad we don't have a large enough tuna net," is the half-distracted quip about dolphins. In no rush, the engineer takes his time, clearly giving it a lot of consideration. "Looks like there might actually be merit to my musing that they converse in frequencies we can't register. What bits and pieces we've managed to record remain gibberish." Still reading. "This pretty much confirms what Captain Vakos and I suspected about the triple-hashes." Definitely food for thought. "This my copy?" he asks, not really caring whether or not it is as long as he gets a copy before he leaves.

"Yeah," Bannik confirms with a nod. "I made one for you and one for Damon." Not the Chief. But Damon. That is perhaps a title reserved for the fellow fishing on Aerilon. "One thing you might want to do is see if we can try to get a Harrier tracking their pulses of light or something, see if we can't decode or decrypt or desomething it. I don't know if that'd help."

Re-scanning the document, the SL notes, "I'd considered it, but the fact remains that Raiders are a whole lot faster than Raptors, and they like to play tag with the Vipers." Which is to say that keeping a bead on those lights for any extended period of time is highly unlikely. "It's definitely a sound notion," Trask adds, finally looking back to Bannik. "The trick might be in casting a wider net," he considers, his expression taking on a pensive cast as he ponders something. This eventually dissipates into a non-sequitur, "I'm guessin' no one's yet to determine how, if at all, the radiation has been affecting those buggers."

Bannik shakes his head. "Not yet, Captain," confirms the deckhand. "It may be a matter for Doctor Adair, given that it might be doing something biological to them. I'll see if I can work on the mechanical end and figure it out. Don't know if it's warping their tissues or their mechanical pathways — or both." He then segues back to the other issue: "It's hard to tell if it's the light or some other waves. Thankfully, we have once a day to try to figure it out. Maybe we can attune our listeners on the raiders more closely — see if there's something we can't pick up on. And then try to splice some guncam video to try to piece together how the lights flash. I don't know if it'd work, but that's just my guesses there."

"I've been wanting to take a closer look at 'em," the ECO admits, "To see if the ones jumping to attack show the wear and tear of other battles, or if they're getting repaired, or whatever. With the haze out there, though, flight footage isn't revealing much in the way of detail." Make no mistake, the man is contemplating something. He has that look about it. "Well, lemme know what, if anything, you find." Lightly waving the report, Trask adds, "Thanks for the four-one-one — and for reminding me of a few things that need to be revisited. Good work, as always." Off-handed as the compliment is, it also is genuine. "And nothin' personal, but if there's nothin' further, I'm not gonna keep you."

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