| Marine Delivery |
| Summary: | Some more Marines arrive to their new home, this time from the surface of Aerilon. |
| Date: | 10 Oct 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
    |
| Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
|---|
| The single largest rooms on the Cerberus are the hangar decks. Each flight pod consists of two stacked landing bays with adjoined decks and hangars, which along with computer-assisted landings results in a faster Viper recovery rate. Mirror images of each other, these two huge areas are located on the flight pods. The inboard sides of the deck, closest to the ship's main hull, are lined with parking and maintenance bays for Vipers and Raptors based aboard the battlestar. The outboard side of the deck contains the launch tubes used by the Vipers for standard deployment. Huge blast doors seal the deck into four sections, each one containing an elevator that leads up to the flight deck directly overhead. The fore-most section contains an elevator system that leads towards Aerospace Fabrication. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #226 |
Word probably would have traveled up to the Marine level fairly quick. A pair of Raptors doing a sweep of Southern Aerilon came into radio contact with personnel who identified themselves as Colonial Marines. An hour later, the Raptors have landed and begun disgorging their human cargo. One in particular is a short woman who seems to be taking charge of keeping the motley crew together and out of people's way until they get direction. Most of them are horribly dirty, herded like cats into an empty Viper bay. The woman, much like four other gentlemen, are dressed in Marine ground battle gear though her uniform doesn't look like it fits. At all. They are thoroughly dirty and more than happy to start stripping off the heavy web gear.
Woo! More Marines. This pleases Lunair immensely and she's among the leading end of the welcome wagon. Folks are bringing gear, herding the Marines towards the head and proper Marine Deck once they feel ready. She pauses. Hey wait. She's not the shortest now? Score. Lunair is clearly moving up in the world, if not in height. Either way, she's moving up to greet the new arrivals. She's formal, polite and perhaps more than a little blueblooded, a remnant from the days when officerdom was a mark of class. "Salutations," Yup. Dork.
Word did travel to the Marine level, in time enough for the ship's CO herself to be present when the Raptors are brought in, the deck secured, and their passengers discharging their survivors. Observing from the catwalk above the deck proper, Madilyn watches as several new Marines exit, taking note of the equipment and the uniforms in turn. She's not especially quick to descend the ladder and introduce herself. Instead, she prefers a moment of observation to inspect their number, their disposition, informal and formal rank order, and other things - the whole shebang.
Only the men in Marine BDU's wear rank. A huge, burly Gunnery Sergeant, another buck Sergeant a Lance Corporal, and a Private. Firearms taken from them before arrival, the Cerberus' Marine begin handing off what is likely theirs: A trio of modified civilian battle rifles, a whole slew of pistols and knives, a standard-issue Marine LMG, and some smaller hunting rifles. They certainly weren't hurting for armaments, though they all look a little undernourished. Standard fare for anyone coming aboard - plus the weapons. The blonde, though, seems to have the attention and at least more than a little respect from the people she brings board, despite her size. The last to disgorge her gear, the woman turns to see Lunair approaching and seems a bit surprised. "Yeah. Evenin, Lieutenant. We, uh-" She stops and looks around before settling back on Lunair. "Couldn't quite hear the aircrew over the engines. Where the hell are we? Couldn't see the name of the ship on approach." No introductions yet, apparently.
Lunair frowns, at their undernourished state. "Galley should be open soon as well," She notes to someone off to the side. Lunair falls quiet though, noticing Madilyn herself here. There's definitely an aura of respect. She is addressed and smiles politely at Vandenberg. Good ole JiG that she is, she nods as she listens. "Hello there. And you would be on the Cerberus, one of the newer ships in the fleet," She explains politely. "It's alright, they're pretty noisy," She glances over her shoulder with a frown. "I'm Lieutenant Junior Grade Raine Lunair by the way. Pleased to meet you. We'll see about getting you settled in."
"Not just one of the newer. The newest, or so I was lead to believe. Barely out of spacedock, shakedowns, and Final Carrier Qualifications when the Cylons decided they wanted to reintroduce themselves." That escort carrier floating out there doesn't need to be mentioned right off the bat, even if it is 'newer' in a sense. The new voice in the conversation is Madilyn, who has maneuvered down the steeply angled ladder and crossed the deck in time enough to hear the middle and last parts of Lunair's reply to the female Marine's question. "Major Madilyn Willows-Cavanaugh," she adds. "Do you have a name? Rank? Battalion and Regiment?"
There's a low whistle from stage left, or thereabouts. It's from Sergeant Lysander who has had the lovely honor of escorting the recovered folk onto the Cerberus, his squad doing what they do best while he comes to rest gloved hands over the butt of his rifle. The firearm has been strapped and brought to his forefront in a neutral position over his chest. His boots lead him off into the direction of his immediate superior which leads into a tilting nod of respect in Lunair's direction, and then another for the Major. Then, attention's on the newcomer amongst family-folk, since that's far better than speaking up just yet.
The blonde shakes her head once, curtly. "We should be alright on food, I think. We grabbed a snack at the LZ while we were waiting for the airbabies to touch down. Got a nice supply of goat and rabbit jerky that's been holding us pretty well." One of the Marines behind her, the young Private, just smirks. "Cerberus. Fair enough. We appreciate the pickup. We ran out of targets after the canners pulled pitch near-bouts seven or eight weeks back…" The woman finally ventures a smile, though it doesn't exactly look right on her face - like maybe she hadn't worn that expression in some time. At seeing the approach of the Major, though, Vandenberg comes up a little straighter as she strips off her helmet. Its cradled under her left arm while her right arm lifts in salute. "Lieutenant Natalie Vandenberg. Formerly Alpha Company, Third Battalion, Sixty-Fourth Marine Infantry. Camp Rooker, Libran. Military Police, sir." She may have been out in the cold for six months, but she seems sharp - despite the mud and grime caked on to every last one of their faces. Her eyes focus on the wall far in the distance for now.
A blink at that news from Madilyn. "Wow," She seems impressed by the gaggle then. "Glad we found you then," She nods. There's a little nod of acknowledgment to Lysander. She is quiet for the moment and smiles, nodding. She seems like she'd speak up - but well, CO-alicious right behind her. She'll salute in turn too. But she is an audience for a moment.
Madilyn would like to say that she knows the group, but she's not particularly familiar. Blame it on old age, okay? A curt nod is given to the woman and the new gaggle of Marines. "Very good. At ease, Lieutenant. You're not the first group of Marines we've picked up from across the colonies. Saggitaron, primarily, now Aerilon. But that's neither here nor there at the moment. One of the ship's hangar bays is dedicated to civilian housing. For the moment, I'm going to request that you and your squadmates - an assumption, admittedly - remove all your weapons, leave them in the custody of my MPs and move in that direction. There, you can get showered, fed, and requisition new attire while we perform background checks. There have been developments which you may or may not be aware of that necessitate somewhat extreme paranoia when it comes to ship security."
From a relatively interested expression, does Lysander's expression falter at the mention of military police. The corners of his eyes tighten reflexively and then he relaxes with a slow roll of his shoulders into an eased shrug. There's a glance given to the Junior Lieutenant and Major before eyes shift back into the direction of the Lieutenant. He's held his tongue for a long couple of moments thus far. The Sergeant shifts his weight from one boot to the other in gaining a fair more comfortable position underneath the general weight of his gear. "Much, much nicer than the brig, at least," murmurs Lysander. He flashes a brief, warm and slight-haughty smile.
The Lieutenant comes to ease and nods once as the Major finishes. "Already done, sir. Your MP's have our weapons. As for squadmates, well," she glances to one of them and back to the Major. "Ad hoc fireteam, sir. I was on vacation on Aerilon. This group of cast-iron ugly gentlemen were involved in a prisoner transfer." Which is probably why her uniform looks like its about two sizes too large. "If you're referring to the Robo-bleeders, sir, we're aware. Ran into a few of them on the surface. Caught one of them infiltrating another group of survivors. Damned near got ourselves killed for the favor of turning it into babbling mass of bitchin fury." Her eyes flicker to Lysander, then. "You normally treat your fresh arrivals to talk of the brig, Sergeant?"
A blink at the brig comment. Lunair lifts her eyebrows. She says nothing until Vandenberg speaks again. A soft 'ahem'. "No, we do not unless they give us good reason," She states simply. "And yes, the recent spate of … attacks, by Cylons hiding in skin or other entities has been cause for heightened security," She offers quietly and frowns. A nod at the CO, who is wise and terrifying. "I'll see about helping move things along."
"He only talks about the brig in a misguided attempt at relieved humor. Relieved that he's not in the brig himself, of course." Oh! A joke! Dry and awful, but it's a joke by golly! Even a wan little smile plays on Madilyn's lips. No mention of the suspected Cylon in their officer's brig is made. "I also assume that once you clear background, you all will want to resume duties?" she asks, directed at the gathered gaggle. It's unclear which of them are MPs, which are specialized soldiers, and which have been on ship duty before.
"Not at all, Sir, that'd just be me an' my charmin' disposition." Lysander readily replies and then returns to being subdued, if only because a very, very small part of him would not like to be a Sergeant forever, and ever. The being sedate with the conversation doesn't last for too long, his commanding officers' input making him smile good-naturedly and giving a nod of his head. The marine holds his gaze aloft for the time being though. He's just a bystander with a warped sense of humor right now.
"Aye, skipper." Tough crowd, tonight. Vandenberg doesn't seem too keen on the laughs at the moment. She's probably still overwhelmed at the idea of a ship. "I won't speak for the rest of this gaggle, Major, but I never quit being a Marine. The Colonies go to hell, you can be whoever you want to be. I'd rather keep fighting, sir." She clears her throat and lets the helmet begin to dangle from her left hand. "If its all the same, sir? I was a staff officer when shit went down. I was a platoon leader for eleven years, though. Ten in infantry doing mountain warfare. I've got a taste for it again so if you have an opening, and I pass muster, I wouldn't mind taking some of them off your hands." She slides her eyes back towards Lysander and barely edges a turn of her lips up. "Want to be an even more charming guy and point me to someone with a cigarette? I'd burn a sunuvabitch just to get a drag of nicotene at this point."
Lunair is at least, a polite audience. Her eyebrows lift but she just smiles a little. She watches between each, smiling a little. "There's some cigarettes, yes," She seems amused. "Though I'd better watch out," She herself is a platoon leader. "I lead Charlie Platoon at the moment, the Rifles." She is being a bit wry and welcoming. "We'd be glad to have you when everything clears up," She defers to the CO on when.
"Each individual will be reassigned based on their specific merits and skills. Being so new, this ship has a respectably-updated list of personnel files downloaded from the central database before everything went to Hell. It's not complete, but when it comes to military records, it's better than nothing. Background checks should start tomorrow in force, and could even begin this evening, if the newly-arrived feel up to answering questions. Otherwise, you're free to make yourselves at home in the starboard hangar temporarily while we sort things out." Madilyn looks like that's just about all she's got prepared to say to the new folks for tonight at least.
Lysander opens his mouth to speak and then presses his lips back together, taking the sudden pause in himself in order to collect a somewhat proper response. He lifts up his hands in order to remove his helmet and then comb his free hand through his hand, nodding. "I could see about gathering a carton or two if it's alright, Sirs," his attention shifts from Vandenberg and towards his commanding officers, expectantly. It's smokes and relaxation or questions and background checks, at least. This charming fellow looks to rather continue being lax now that he's aboard the Cerberus.
Vandenberg turns the telltale hint of a smile back towards Lunair for the briefst second. "I'm not after anyone's job, Lieutenant. I would assume you all aren't willynillyin' around dead space and you've made it this far." Natalie then aims her attention back at Madilyn. "Aye, sir. I'm no ghost. If you all have records, I should be in there. But if you want someone to start interviews? We move at night, sir. Sleep during the day. I'd just like to humbly request a shower for my men and I so we don't go pitchforkin a member of your staff into sickbay by way of overbearin scents. Dunno what you all have in the way of soap and a head in that hangar bay you're pointin us toward." She then shifts her attention to Lysander and nods emphatically, her eyes settling back on Madilyn as if asking 'PLZ PLZ PLZ'.
Lunair just grins a little. She nods at Lysander, not seeming to mind. "There's actually plumbing in the hangar if I remember correctly. A Crewman and a Specialist with some others set it up, actually," She taps her chin. "There should be plenty of cigs in storage too," She notes. They did raid a mall after all.
"Cigarettes should not be a problem, no. If the supplies officer gives you a hassle, Sergeant, I've got a number in my personal supplies. I take my ration and save them, since I only very rarely smoke." Doctor's orders, and all that. "There is now plumbing available in the starboard hangar bay, yes. Once you're cleaned, MPs will be around to begin checking facts," Madilyn says with a nod.
The Sergeant conveniently ignores mentioning his own cache of things but the impish look remains. He reaches back up with his offhand to rub over his jaw and the look fades away into a nod while he tucks his helmet under his right arm. "Oh - Great, I'll take on the job of showing them then, and see about supplies," he nods once more and then takes a half-step back from the conversation in order to look to the rest of his squad. From the left and to the right before he's signaling and passing out orders in order to get things moving along. Returning to Vandenberg, Lysander offers a slight-amused, "If you and yours'd follow me, Lieutenant."
Natalie looks between Lunair and Madilyn before nodding once. "Understood, sir. I think we'd all appreciate it somethin' feirce. It'll be nice to have clothes that fit again, too. I haven't worn a proper uniform tickin past six months now, sir." Not a one looks like they've had a shower in that amount of time, either. She sighs and signals for the men to rise with Lysander's request. "Rucks n butts, both in gear. Looks like we've got a short hike before salvation." Back towards the Sergeant: "Lead on, fair knight." She then nods to Madilyn. "Thanks for the hospitality, skipper. I'll startin puttin to paper what I know. Have it for you at the debrief." A sketched salute later, she's off to follow Lysander.
Lunair smiles and nods. "Sure, I'll help as needed," She seems glad to help newcomers and is friendly enough. An oddity, with strange purple eyes - but friendly and lacking the ability to shoot eye lasers. "It's a pleasure to have you on board," She offers to the group. Beam.
The other Marines are herded off once more. Madilyn turns back toward the ladder up to the catwalk, intending to head back to the office and get things rolling on the background checks. As silently as she arrived, she disappears.