| Romeo Mary |
| Summary: | The Anadyomene group makes brief radio contact with the MolGen group. |
| Date: | 2041.05.18 |
| Related Logs: | All Anadyomene group logs. |
| Players: |
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| Kythera |
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| A random rooftop. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #81 |
This building will do nicely. High enough to get clear line-of-sight to most of the city, but with an intact stairwell and roof access to nearby structures for easy egress. The Bravo Team scouting party, laden down with provisions though they are, emerges from the roof access stairwell and takes stock of their position. Kulko drops to a knee and digs the wireless out of his pack. "Looks like as good a place as any. You got eyes on any hostiles?"
Somebody has the posh digs. Somebody. Holed up in a shielded lab in the horrendously creepy MolGen complex is one Lieutenant Calvin Oberlin, nursing a severely shot-up left arm which has been bandaged and rebandaged. All jokes about his porn collection being neglected have been unmade at the present time, due to the general politeness of his company. All the meanies seemed to have been put on the other team or ended up with it.
This facility /is/ shielded, but a signal will at least reach the transmitter. Reach it enough to coax him outside.
"You want me- watching the stairwell or poking my- head out over the edge?" Tisiphone's voice, slightly winded from her burdened ascent to the roof. She hesitates by the stairwell, fingers shifting uneasily on her rifle's grip, before she flips the safety and and slings it over her shoulder to bounce against her overstuffed pack. "Ought to hear them coming up the stairs." Not that it counts as very good news.
"Right. And we can scram on the rooftops. Alright, here goes nothing." Kulko snaps the battery pack back into place, and tunes to the predetermined frequency. "Eidolon Alpha, this is Eidolon Bravo Actual, come in. Repeat, Eidolon Alpha, do you copy?" Stephen throws a glance Tisiphone's way before he to the cityscape, expectantly.
There is some barely-intelligible static on the other end. Barely. But intelligible. "*****Ca***Alph****Wai***One*" And then silence. For a few moments, should Lt. Kulko choose to wait. Hobbling through the compound, Oberlin makes it to the access point and there is another burst. "Eidolon Bravo. We copy. /Barely. Good to hear you're still alive. We've made a few friends, over. What's your sitrep? And /please/ tell us you have a frakking ride home."
Tisiphone leaves the stairwell door open and crouches down, slinking over to one of the rooftop corners. She doesn't dangle her head directly over the edge or anything extra-foolish like that, but she probably gets closer to the edges than is strictly wise. She's creeping over to the next corner when the comms crackle to life — it brings her head around immediately. A stunned blink of blind relief before she turns to edge in a little closer, ears straining for the staticky words.
The general M.O. has been to give Oberlin a minute, then bug out of a transmit location. But this time, when the static comes over, Kulko's eyes widen, and he looks Tisiphone's way again as a grin takes over his features. "Thank the /gods/. Calvin's alive." Keying up the radio, there's a few moments of silence transmitted before Kulko can put his words together. "Alpha, we've been better but we're all more or less in one piece. Barto was KIA. Exfil is coming, but we don't know when. Are you mobile?"
"Barto's down? Shit. That's —" Oberlin doesn't finish that statement. "Yeah, we lost Sergeant Galyian but that was our only casualty. Died when he was caught in some kind of trap. Listen, we don't have a lot of time, this is bound to be read. They were working on some shit here I can barely fathom. They /made/ their own Cylon." A pause. "The MolGen people. But with the brain of a human. Several humans. Some kind of cult that worshipped Athena, uhh, Pen knows more about this than I do but we need to get this back to Sister Greje if we really want to make heads or tails of it. We have some data on some kind of weapon. It's connected to Parnassus, uh, there were radiation levels here like there were at the station." He continues. "But dwarfing their scale. It was obscene. Listen, there's more. We have approximately ten militia with us. There were over fifty two days ago but the Toasters hit us hard and fast." There's another grimace on the line, one obviously of pain. "We can move."
Kulko tries to take it all in, but that's a lot of intel. He looks down to the ground, gripping the handset tight. "Right. This message is Romeo Mary. Head west, head away from the river. Heavy enemy presence. We'll meet up with you before exfil." Kulko moves to kill the transmitter and hurriedly pack it up. "Come on, Tis; we've gotta /move/."
Tisiphone creeps in a bit closer and sinks down to her haunches, then rocks forward to settle into a kneel. She holds her hands pressed together in front of her face for a moment, nose and lips pinched between them, then lets her hands drop to her knees as she listens to Oberlin's words. A bit poleaxed, by the end of that all. "Uh," is her first reponse, before she pushes back up to a crouch. "Yeah. Got it. Let's go." She heads for the stairwell as Kulko works with the transmitter, pausing to regrasp her rifle and flick the safety off before she takes a step inside.
If possible, after the message is received, Oberlin /immediately/ transmits a frantic, "Wait one! Bravo, Wait One! There's something else. We encountered a woman. A woman who looked identical to security cam footage of a woman who detonated explosives inside the MolGen facility as a suicide bomber. We watched her /die/ but she came and spoke to us in the flesh. She knew my name, and the name of the Marine who died turning away hostiles when we were boarded. She was over forty. Dark hair and eyes. Sharp nose. There may be a leak aboardship, I don't know how far this goes. She spoke to us as an enemy. We — we thought we were crazy but we all saw her. And warned us away. There's a leak somewhere." Even through the pain, his voice is frantic. "Be careful who you trust. Romeo Mary, Stephen. Romeo Mary. We copy."