| PHD #349: The Swarm Stings |
| Summary: | Chaos on the deck after the Cylons send a horrific swarm after the fleet. |
| Date: | 10 Feb 2042 AE |
| Related Logs: | EVENT - Enter the Swarm |
| Players: |
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| Hangar Deck - Port - Midship - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| 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: #349 |
Captain Vakos' Viper manages to crash land, having taken catastrophic damage to its midsection and cockpit. Surprisingly she's managed to keep the bird in enough control as to not crash into anyone else or anything else. Upon extraction, it's clear that there was a cockpit fire; her flight suit's right side seems to have blistered. Waving off crewmen, she's quick to cross the way to other crash-landed birds, prying apart cockpits and bending metal herself if she has to, in order to account for each and every pilot.
Iosif is a young apprentice, so while the planes have been in the air, tangling with Cylons and what-not, he's been doing his best to find someone to boss him around, do what they tell him, and endeavor not to screw up anything up. He continues doing that, rushing to get fire extinguisher in hand as some of the birds come in very, very hot, and then go to work…wherever he'd prodded to do so. He looks rather wide-eyed and scrambly.
Standing at a distance and at ready after the alert, Crewman Lagana stays out of the way of the Deckhands. As the sudden rush of returning Viper's hit the deck. The condition they return in is not one of well being and the crewman keeps her med kit held tightly as she mixes with the flow of bodies from the deck crew. Taking note of the injured Captain, the first in as she starts for the other Vipers, Circe narrows her gaze. "CAPTAIN!" She cries out to be heard over the sudden bluster of sound that has arisen. She pushes her way through, showldering her way towards the woman. "CAPTAIN! Sir!" She says as the isignia upon Khloe's fatigues are noticed. "We need to get you looked at. Please let the deck crew handle this." Says the medic.
"Over here!" comes a shout from the bird beside the one Khloe's working on. "Can't get it open!" The Deck is in full-on action mode. There are extinguishers hosing down birds, deckhands pulling pilots out of crash-landed craft, and medical staff on hand to tend to those who need immediate attention before they're sent to Sickbay. Damon is running full-tilt with an axe in hand in response to that shouted cry for help - Vipers are expensive, but pilots are invaluable. Sliding across the wing of one of the birds being sprayed down, he makes it to the Viper in question. "Hey!" he yells, pointing at Iosif. "Give me a hand here." He starts smashing away with the axe, trying to get through to the now-unconscious pilot.
Hissing through clenched teeth, as it's clear the exertion combined with whatever heat damage she's suffered is painful. "You so much as touch me, Crewman, I will lay you flat. You look new, so you should ask around what I did to Apprentice Wright. Don't frakking touch me." Leaving behind the husk of a Viper she was tearing at, as the pilot was obviously dead on arrival, she begins staggering towards the Viper that Damon and crew are working on. She quite simply grabs a hold of cockpit assembly, places a foot against the hull, and pulls. With an agonizing, but swallowed, scream of effort and pain.
"Eh?" Iosif pivots in mid-scramble to…somewhere when Damon calls to him. "Uh? Aye! Aye!" All said rapidly as he's scrambling, first to grab another axe, then to join Damon. "Bloody gods above…" Sworn soft to himself as he watches the burning planes and extracted pilots, though he does manage to keep moving. "Eh!?" With Khloe suddenly there, he has to re-situate himself before he can really get to work opening helping to crack open the cockpit.
Circe follows after Khloe, "Sir, I will be glad to ask when the time isn't now." As the woman tears at the next Viper, there is a shake of her head given and exasperation touches her breath released. She sets down her bag and climbs up to add her strength at the same point that Khloe is. She gives a good haul. "IF this is what it takes, Sir." She intones, hoping as well that the Pilot within is going to be alright. She lets out a long breath and flexes again, trying to get a good hold.
In all the noise of the madness and axe-smashing, Damon didn't hear the exchange between Khloe and Circe. But when the Squadron Leader comes over to the Viper, he does a double-take at her flightsuit and shakes his head. "Absolutely not, Captain," he says, not missing a beat in his swinging. "Your suit's blistered, you need to get checked right away." He nods to Circe, pausing to flip the axe around so he can hammer on the frame with the blunt end. "Get her taken care of, yeah?" he says to the medic. Then, to nobody in particular, he roars, "Where's the frakking cutters?! This ain't making a Gods-damned dent on the frame!"
BlackKnight-309 zooms by overhead.
BlackKnight-309 comes in for a landing.
BlackKnight-662 zooms by overhead.
BlackKnight-662 comes in for a landing.
Devlin climbs out of BlackKnight-309.
Devlin has arrived.
"Not until I'm sure all of my Knights are accounted for, Chief," comes Khloe's flat-but-stressed reply. But it's clear that simple willpower and strength will not get this particular cockpit open, so she begins stumbling for another bird. "My people get taken care of before I do." And as the last of the birds come in for a landing, Khloe's attention gets drawn to who combat-lands and who crashes.
BlackKnight-853 zooms by overhead.
BlackKnight-650 zooms by overhead.
BlackKnight-855 zooms by overhead.
Wade climbs out of BlackKnight-662.
Wade has arrived.
BlackKnight-650 comes in for a landing.
BlackKnight-855 comes in for a landing.
Andrea climbs out of BlackKnight-855.
Andrea has arrived.
Malone climbs out of BlackKnight-650.
Malone has arrived.
Skids down, guns silent, the Fleet's mailed fist returns home bloodied and beaten — but more or less intact. It's all the pilots can do to avoid colliding with each other as they bring home their birds, and only some of them succeed. Psyche's smoking Viper collides with another mid-air, tailfins locking as they spin out of control. She manages to extricate herself a split second before she skids to a stop in front of the bulkhead, but the other plane loses a canopy as she crunches into the heavy steel wall. Wounded Raptors smash onto the deck with resounding thumps that cause the smaller birds nearby to rattle and shake. Each passing second paints a picture of chaos writ large — there, a Raider being incinerated by the last salvo from now-jumping Praetorian; there, a smashed Viper taking an unwary Cylon with it; there, a brave deckhand leaping into a burning cockpit before being flung backwards by a string of secondary explosions.
And when the LSO signals all aboard at long last, and when Cerberus pulls inward and expands outwards, the swarm's still there and growing — and growing, and growing, until each individual Raider seems to disappear into an all-consuming sea of silver.
BlackKnight-853 comes in for a landing.
BlackKnight-308 zooms by overhead.
Psyche climbs out of BlackKnight-853.
Psyche has arrived.
BlackKnight-308 comes in for a landing.
Devlin lands without issue, his ship in relatively good shape, especially compared to those of some of his wingmates. He pops the canopy and climbs out, doing a quick walk-around and speaking to the deckhand who runs over before getting out of the way, and watching anxiously as others arrive.
And one of the elevators bring BlackKnight 662 to the Deck. She looks, well…bad. There are a few holes in her body and cockpit. Wade is inside and as soon as the bird is there, he unlocks the canopy and opens the cockpit, already seeing how the stairs are being moved to his Viper. He unhooks his security harness and takes off his helmet, tilting his neck from side to side as if feeling a little bit of pain there. "Gods frakking Raiders…" mutters the man and then looks at who's out on the deck.
Andrea climbs out of her own bird, which is completely untouched. She also runs to see if any help is needed, but knowing her skillset tries to stay out of the way of the deckies. Her eyes count the Knights who went… counting heads.
"Aye, yes of course Chief!" She says and looks to the Captain who she is aiding trying to get the canopy open of a Viper. Circe then looks to the Captain. "We are in their way, sir." She intones, her med bag on the floor where she dropped it for a chance to convince Khloe to allow her to look over her wounds. "The cutters will show and we won't have room at all. The sooner I get you looked at the sooner I can look over your Knights." She says calmly. Golden hazel eyes rest on the officer a moment longer. "Sir." She says and because she is making no difference in the removal of the canopy and steps away to allow the Chief and the crew to handle it. The medic looks back up at the insistent female and motions for her as she grabs her medkit with practiced ease. Her hand reaches out to give a hook to her arm to pull her down. "Doing my job, sir. Forgive me."
Iosif passes a look between Damon and Khloe. A wide-eyed, leery sort of one. But he keeps on working as he does so. He's not about to get in the captain's way, though he does nudge in to get better room to work once she goes off. A small shrug, sympathetic, is offered to Circe. Then he's back to work.
The landing of Blackknight-853 is spectacular and harrowing, a catastrophe of skidding, screaming metal, smoke and sparks. Either the last conscious act of the pilot or the luck of the Lords keeps the Viper from colliding with the bulkhead or another plane — one way or the other, it looks like there might be enough of the machine left to salvage… though it's hard to tell. Black smoke billows, and save for the occasional spark illuminating the interior, the cockpit is still.
Coming in a bit wobbly in all directions, Malone's Viper seems to be about to land, then gains some height, and finally hits the deck a bit harder than it's supposed to, pilot knocked around a bit inside the cockpit. It finally comes to a stop, looking like wreck, but still mostly there. Malone doesn't leave the cockpit at the moment, it seems.
When you've worked 6 years as a knuckledragger, were an AE Lead, and even tapped to be a Deck Chief, you learn how to project your voice even above all the cacophony in a hangar post-combat. "SITREP!" That would be Trask, a bit scruffy and somewhat disheveled, and full of the wired kind of tired that comes from adrenaline hardcore pumping because someone's deep sleep was shattered by the sounds of klaxons blaring. There was no time for him to be ready to join the fray, but he's suited-up and ready to launch for CAP.
The Deck is in chaos, but it's organized chaos. The crew knows what they're doing, even if it looks completely manic to the outsider. There are birds crashing in aflame, deckhands running around with extinguishers and tools, medical staff looking after injured pilots, and extractions happening all over the hangar. Damon, Iosif, Circle, and Khloe are next to a crashed Viper, trying to extract the pilot. The two Deckies are holding axes while Circe is attempting to coax the Captain away for treatment. "Captain," Damon replies, pausing to face Khloe. "They're your Knights, but this is my Deck. You need to let Medical look after you now. We'll do everything we can." His voice is respectful but firm - it's clear that this is the last time he's going to ask nicely.
"Wade, you okay?" Devlin calls over as the LT lands and curses. And then 853 comes in for that horrific-looking landing. It takes a minute to identify the plane, even, and then Devlin is sprinting toward it. "Need help over here!" he shouts toward the assembled deckies, not that they could have failed to realize that on their own, really.
Attention on the landing birds, and obviously going through adrenaline-fade as pain and fatigue are setting in, Khloe is completely taken unawares by Circe's bold takedown. "What the… frak you!" As she falls to her knees, she points with her bad arm - the side of her that's bearing signs of blistering on her flight suit. She's gesturing, of course, towards Malone's and Psyche's Vipers. Glaring up at the Chief, she spits, "Stop frakking standing around, then! Those two!"
Andrea sees the chaos, and hotfoots it over to Devlin. "Eassy, Decoy, they see her, they see her, she'll be fine, and… oh frak. Someone just tackled Poppy. Please tell me that you're not going to need anyone to tackle you?" She puts a hand on his arm. "Let them do their jobs, stay out of the way…"
Wade climbs down the stairs still rubbing his neck and looking a little beat up. His gaze moves to Devlin and nods "Just a little beat up, I'll live." He also sees 853 and jumps down to the deck, making a run for it following Decoy. "Bubbles!" shouts the man "Help!" and he winces when a sharp pain on his neck attacks again "Frak!" still, he doesn't slow down and starts trying to get the canopy open.
Devlin is fast, and not paying any attention to Andrea, let alone people tackling Poppy. Hands on his arm and shrugged off as he runs to the Viper, working with Wade to try to pry the canopy open, though whenever deck personnel appear, he does let them move in and take his place. They have tools, after all.
Now that her patient is her's, Circe opens the med bag and goes to her own knees. "Alright Captain." She intones and then reaches up to begin to undo the viper vest and flightsuit with ease. She is measured and calm and despite the chaos about her, her hazel eyes focus on the treatment. "Sir can you move your arm enough to get it it out of the suit?" She asks, trying to slide her hand in along the inside and begin to slide the fabric away from the woman's arm.
With her other hand she reaches in for a pair of scissors as all the cries start to go up. Swift, fast, anything she can do to get the Captain on her way to the medbay. The small cutters in her hand remain ready. "May need a new suit, sir."
Resigned to being tended to, finally, Khloe tries to shrug her arm out of her flight suit. "I can… I cannn… frak!" Her arm is stuck inside the lining. "Frakking thing is melted. It did its job, I don't think I'm burned that badly. Just cut the frakker off." She's not a good patient, however; her attention is continually drawn away watching the various birds, and more importantly their pilots, attended to. "You, slackjawed idiot!" Grabbing the attention of a random deckie. "Help him! Follow Ensign Devlin!"
The cutters finally arrive to extract the unconscious pilot, giving Damon the perfect excuse to back away from Khloe before he says something to the Captain he's sure to regret later. He taps Iosif on the shoulder with the handle of his axe. "Come on, you're with me." On the way, he ditches the ineffective axe for a prybar. 853 is starting to get sprayed down when he gets there, but that doesn't slow him down any - he jumps up beside Wade and Devlin. "Either of you injured?" he asks, taking a quick look over them before jamming the bar against the canopy and stomping on the other end with his boot.
Iosif does his best to be the controlled part of the chaos. He still has a more or less flailing look about him, but he takes direction from Damon and the other senior Deckies as well as he can and does in - visibly - frak up yet. "Aye," he mutters to Damon, somewhat breathless as he braces a prybar of his own on the other end of the Chief's cockpit, to pop it open with a sharp, ripping crack of metal.
She may have had the flight before, but it certainly isn't hers anymore. Andrea stays out of the way, though she watches as her fellow pilots are pried out of their birds. Seeing Khloe being tended to, Andrea decided to avoid that particular fire and keeps an ear open in case someone calls for hands.
One cranky Captain is bad enough. It would be wise to not make it two. A wise PO3 realizes this and starts rattling off the the ship numbers of the Harriers birds that are accounted for. No sooner than she finished giving the triage assessments of the Raptors, the SL offers a quick word of thanks and then is plotting a course for his counterpart in the Black Knights. "Poppy." That will have to suffice for hello. "Sweet Pea an' Skeeter — what happened?"
Wade looks at Damon and shakes his head "I'm fine, I'll live…" says the man and then looks at what the Chief does to open the Canopy. Should that thing open up a little, he just gets in there and starts pulling as hard as he can to get it completely open, so they can take Bubbles out of there. "Almost there Bubbles" calls out the man, hoping that she can hear that if she is awake.
"Fine," Devlin assures Damon, doing what he can to help get the canopy open faster even if that mostly means getting out of the way of the guys with crowbars until there's something to really pull on. "Psyche, you okay in there?" he calls through the glass, rapping his knuckles against it loudly, and looking for any sign of movement. "Shit," he mutters under his breath, "Shit shit shit shit shit."
Malone's canopy finally opens, the pilot within looking around for a few moments. He doesn't get up yet, just watching the happenings for now. Frowning as he sees the commotion over by Psyche's Viper. Removing his helmet a bit slowly, while watching the people now…
Inside the charred cockpit of 853, there's that bacon-y smell of electrical fires and some other, far less pleasant burning. The pilot is unmoving. Her suit's compromised, burned and melted in several places. There's evidence of smoke inhalation from the soot built up inside the helmet's clear panel.
Bannik has arrived.
"Sir, the Chief will get your pilots." She says and with a press of her hand on the inside next to the pilot's arm, she makes sure the small snippers do noe pierce anything of importants or flesh. She begins to tear through the cloth and with a slide of the sharp edges the sleeve is left and she begins to cut her completely out of it. She makes a lateral cut across the breast along the injured arms side and she pushes the thing off and flapping down her back. She says nothing more, concentrating on her work. She sets the cutters down and studies the wound. Her fingers then press in along the arm to make certain nothing was wrong, then her hand - the glove is taken off and chucked, then she cups her fingers and digits, starting to rotate them to also make certain nothing is damaged. The burns are noted and as the cloth is further stripped from her side, she lifts the shirt beneath to look at the skin. She shakes her head. "Captain, I can't take care of this here on the deck. I need you to head down to the sick bay." She intones and looks up at her. "Sir. You have to go. I need to get to your pilots. You have to go." She says and waits to see if she recognizes this or she will continue to be stubborn. She opens up a bottle and scoops out some painkillers. "Take this, sir." With that, Circe gathers her things and jumps to her feet, moving for the other pilots.
Andrea walks over to Khloe, taking a deep breath as she goes. Time for some captain-sitting.
Khloe takes the pills in her good hand, clambering to her feet - it's a painful process. Popping the pills and swallowing them dry, she looks to Trask. "It was a real shitshow out there," she explains, her voice shaky - but not out of emotion. Pain and fatigue. "The initial two were just scouts, like usual, but then we were pretty much swarmed. We held off long enough, else we wouldn't be here, but my bird took a serious cockpit hit, and Bubbles was shot twice as bad as me." She half-stumbles half-limps towards the main stairwell, apparently zoning out and not waiting for Trask's reply - but she slows, her gaze being torn back to Psyche's Viper. "I can't frakking leave yet until I see her come out," she says quietly, but loud enough for Hosedown to pick up on it.
"Sweetiepea… Skeeter… they jumped. No frakking idea," Khloe addendums.
After Iosif cracks the cockpit open, Damon's prybar gives when he stomps it a split second later, giving him a nice tumble off the Viper. "For frak's sakes," he says, picking himself back up. "Medical!" he shouts upon seeing the state of the pilot. "Iosif, get that helmet off her. Sirs, I need you to get cleared by Medical before you keep helping out here." A beat. Then, to Devlin, "Though I'd understand if you want to wait to do that until she's taken care of. Let's get her out of there and make sure she's all right."
Circe starts for the still closed Viper as no other pilots seem to be hurt in her view. The Crewman picks up her pace, jogging for the Viper with her medkit in hand. SHe tries to get closer despite those waiting to see. As Medical is called for, Circe pushes, hard and without care. "Out of the way!" She cries and gets to the side of the Viper. "Let's see her." She says and looks up at the Chief and Iosif.
"Sweetpea jumped in Sector. Bloody brilliant. Took out the Raiders dogging her and appeared in range to land on Aerion." Andrea smiles as she fills in the word on Sweetpea. "It was a Raptorball move through and through. Remind me to buy her a drink when we get a chance. How you holding up, Boss?"
Bannik is hovered over Psyche's Viper, working some of the bulky, nasty-looking equipment that's used to get her on out of it. "All right. We've got her. We've got her. We'll just get her down and get her on off to Sickbay. We got a stretcher down there?" he calls down to the corpsman — Circe.
"It's alright there, luv…" Iosif mutters as he bends down to loosen the helmet from Psyche's head. He'll pop it off as gently as possible, presuming he meets no resistance. He shifts aside as Circe approaches, giving her room to work. "All yours, mate. Need help getting her out of there?"
"Oh shit…" mutters Wade when he finally sees the status inside the cockpit. Now, he lifts his gaze to Damon as he orders both Devlin and himself to get cleared by medics. "I'm fine…I'm fine…" but he does move a little to give room. He places one hand on Decoy's shoulder and nods to him not saying anything at this moment. He looks over his shoulder at Circe and then nods, opening space for her. However, he hovers around the area, to see how the Viper Pilot is. He doesn't need medical attention right now.
No resistance — Psyche isn't home right now. Her face is a patchwork — an angry red burn over her cheekbone, grey ash, black soot. Her lips have a bluish tint. She's oxygen starved — though she's going through the motions of shallow respiration, it's not availing her much.
"I'm fine! I didn't even get hit!" Devlin insists at the mention of medical, "Get the frakking medic here to—you!" he spots Circe, and makes just enough room for the EMT to get in and work, pushed out of the way in the process too much for him to aid in getting her helmet off, which clearly irks him. He drums his hands on the side of the plane and bounces anxiously. "Psyche?" he stretches past people to touch her shoulder, nudging it and demanding louder, "Psyche. Wake the frak up! She's hardly even breathing!"
"It's on its way." True to her word, two fingers press past her lips and with a sharp whistle to break through the shuffled metallic chaos and voices rising, several other staff are waiting. They rush forward with the stretcher in hand. As they prep it with a few seconds needed, she nods and motions with ease. Her gaze is somber and it settles on Iosif a moment and then looks to the pilot as the helmet is taken off. From what she can see, bad. As the woman is lowered by the crew and the medical staff, she gets a gaze over the suit. "Nothing here to be done." She says with a voice of simple remark. The sickbay was better set up to deal with the extent of the damage done. The stretcher is lifted and slides up alongside the Viper and waiting embrace as Circe hands off her bag to another of the medical staff, pulling out the oxygen mask and settles it over Psyche's mouth once she is settled. "Move her." She intones and begins to press the bulb to help feed the pilot the air she can't easily grab.
Confirmed jumped is better than confirmed dead. With a displeased grimace, he mutters to Khloe, "Thanks." Keen brown eyes seek out Psyche's, and there is a faint wince at the corner of his eyes at the sight of all the damage. When Andrea speaks up, his attention shifts and he regards the LT. "Areion, huh?" A slight nod. "Thanks for the 411, Hosedown." Of course, with Khloe not looking so hot — and notoriously stubborn — Bootstrap adds to the redhead, "You stay with Captain Vakos until she gets to Medical. Then, if you're cleared for flight, prep to launch for CAP."
"Hey, hey. Decoy. Decoy. We've got her. She's out. She's good. We've got a stretcher, she's headed on off to sickbay. We've got it handled. Let's get you squared away, okay?" Bannik turns his attention towards Bubbles' husband. "You okay? Your bird all squared away? I can do your post-flight so we can get you out of here."
"My bird wasn't even touched, sir. I'll be ready as soon as she is." Andrea salutes Trask, and then looks down at Poppy with a sigh.
Finally getting out of his Viper, while dropping the helmet to the floor now, Malone heads over towards the main group now, a bit slowly. Looking quite worried as he sees Psyche put on the stretcher. For himself, the injuries seems to include various cuts and bruises, some of the blood in his hair for now. In addition to the sings pointing in the direction of a concussion of some sorts.
"She isn't good!" Decoy exclaims to Bannik, "She'd turning frakking blue!" Devlin is not less agitated now that there is a stretcher and an oxygen mask involved, and he jumps off the side of the Viper and looks ready to head after it to sickbay. "I'm fine, my bird is… mostly fine. I'll do post-flight later. I'm not doing it now," he argues, unable to frown more than he already is though he'd clearly like to as the stretcher gets further away. "Malone's bleeding," he points, "Someone should go help him." And with that attempt at misdirection, he tries to duck around Bannik and away.
Iosif nods wordlessly to Circe and starts doing an assessment of the Viper proper. This includes a fair amount of wincing. A look up to Bannik, as if he's about to ask the Specialist a question, but another glance at Damon and Devlin makes him table it. Work, work, work. And there's no shortage of it to do just now.
Wade keeps his focus on Bubbles, just looking at her status…he looks around now at the others there and looks back at her "Come on girl…" says the man close to the blonde pilot. "Take good care of her" he says to the Medics and then, he looks over his shoulder at Malone "Splash? What the…" He looks for another medic around "Medic here!" His attention runs back to Malone and he says "You are bleeding, you gotta get that looked over." He starts to unhook his flight suit and lowers the front zipper.
Trask nods to Andrea and returns the salute in a perfunctory manner. With a swift spin on his heel, he's then off to confirm which Raptors are ready to launch. Along the way, he starts barking orders to round-up the Harriers on the deck.
Andrea looks up after Devlin. "Decoy! Stick around and let medical do what they do. You and I are on CAP in a few minutes, since we're the ones with birds without holes. She needs you on guard more than she needs you hanging over her."
After Psyche gets pulled out, Damon wastes no time in picking up his prybar again and scanning for other ships to crack open. "Come on, you two," he grunts to Bannik and Iosif. "She's out, we've done our job. Let Medical do theirs." Onward he goes, setting the tool aside to help another deckhand trying to drag a half-conscious pilot to medical teams.
Malone blinks a bit as he hears that, "What? Bleeding? No, I'm not bleeding…" That said as he moves one hand to wipe away some blood from his forehead. A brief pause, and a worried look over at where Psyche was earlier. "What happened?"
Walking beside the stretcher, depressing the bulb of the mask over and over at a regular rythmn with her own calm breathing, Circe keeps her eyes on Psyche. "Alright Lieutenant. You are going down to sick bay. Stay with us." She coaxes in her warm voice. Her hand extends the bulb to a waiting nurse and she nods. "Get her down, steady breathing at the pace of your heart." She says, watching her go. She was a medic, not a doctor and she could do more here than in sick bay. Her bag handed back to her, Circe steps forward at the call again. Like Iosif she had her own work and at the call from Wade she is off again as a few more medics are starting to find their own patients. "Hey here, what do we have?" She asks, and then looks closer at Malone and narrows her gaze. "Pilot." She offers her hand and looks him over. "Eh, lets get you away from the Vipers. I am going to need you to sit. Take my arm." She intones levelly.
Darn it! Fake out! Bannik's head turns when Devlin mentions someone in need of help. But then there's that sound of Decoy going past; "Dammit! Decoy!" He juts his hand out, trying to grab him, but too late. "Come on, Decoy! We need your bird checked out! What if we need to get it up again —" But he can't quite seem to run him down; besides, he's getting called by Damon.
Iosif's head swivels rapidly this way and that between Bannik and Devlin, though it's Damon he ultimately settles on, and it's after the Chief he scurries. "It always like this?" he grunts, under his breath, to no one and everyone in particular.
Devlin slips past Bannik, only to get caught by Andrea's call instead. "I'm not frakking going on CAP, Hosedown!" he shouts back, gesturing back at his plane angrily, "There's a frakking hole in my wing!" It is enough time for Bannik to catch him if he likes, especially now that it is revealed that his plane is not, in fact, undamaged. If the deckie moves on, however, it is off the deck Devlin will continue to head.
Wade narrows his eyes at Malone and he shakes his head "That you are, bleeding." He looks at Bubbles now and takes a deep breath "She got hit pretty bad, she's being taken to Sickbay." Now he looks at him again and says "And you should go too." He rubs his face with his fingers as he looks at Bubbles Viper and then looks at Hosedown "Decoy's right, that bird can't go out now." says Wade. Now, since people is taking Bubbles away and the Deck crew is working on her Viper, he turns to look at his 662.
Huh. It did have a hole in it. Andrea had missed it in all the apocalyptic damage to the other birds. She walks over to him and speaks quietly, but firmly. "Ensign, listen to me close. There is nothing you can do for Bubbles down there but get in the doctors way. You are going to get another bird and fly a CAP with me, because that is our JOB. "
Go left? Go right? "Coming, Chief! Just — gods go with you, Decoy!" Admitting defeat, Bannik hustles off after Iosif and Damon, going to work on the next Viper.
"I'm fine…" Malone mutters, shaking his head a little. "Just a little tired…" Glancing around for a few moments frowning a bit before he adds, "And…" That said, he leans forward, unable to hold back the contents of his stomach now. Ouch, that's stinky stuff…
"What're you, possessed by Poppy?" Devlin snaps at Andrea, "There are dozens of pilots on this deck whose frakking job it is and none of their wives might be frakking dying right now. You want me on CAP, I'll take the next rotation after but I am not going anywhere until I know whether she's okay."
As Malone empties his stomach before her, Circe takes a step back, some splashing along her boot. She blinks and then lifts a brow as her gaze draws up to Malone. "Pilot, that is not /fine/" Crewman Lagana steps forward than and much like she had done ot the Captain earlier hooks his arm and starts to lead him to the sides of the deck. "Come on, lets get you sittind down so I can look at your head." She states, her hair shifting some to let loose a strand or two.
At this point, Wade makes his way to where Andrea is and simply says "I'll take his spot, I'll go out on CAP" he nods to this and then looks at Decoy "Go with your wife, I'll cover" Now, he nods and looks at Andrea again, nodding without saying another word. He takes another look at his beloved 662. "Let me find another bird…"
"No, not always," Damon grunts in response to Iosif after the pilot's laid out on a stretcher to be taken up to Sickbay. "This is the worst it's been in a while." He scans the hangar again - most of the immediate concerns have been dealt with. "Let's start getting the mostly-intact birds back into flight shape!" he shouts. "Clear the Deck and prioritize repairs!" To Bannik and Iosif, he says, "Grab one of the teams and continue helping with extractions and assessments. The rest of 'em can deal with the other shit. Looks like we've got all the pilots who were in the worst shape, but there's still a lot of smoking birds and limping people out there. Have the team check each bird to make sure we got everyone and see if Medical needs any help. Then let's start containing this so we can do what we need to do."
Andrea closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then steps all up in Decoys grill. "If I was being possessed by Poppy, you'd be brigged already, Ensign. " Wade volunteers, and Andrea looks over at him, her eyes shooting daggers. "No. I gave the Ensign an order, and he will follow it. Find yourself a bird, Decoy. You will be able to accompany your wife when you're off duty. Get used to it, Ensign. We don't get to choose when we do our jobs, and when we don't. Your bird, or the brig. At least one of those ways, you can visit her later today."
"Picked the proper time to enlist, I guess," Iosif mutters under his breath. There's sarcasm there, but there's a spry quality to it. He nods quick, eyes focusing on Damon behind his glasses. "Ayez, Chief. Whatever I can do." Then he looks to Bannik, intending to follow his lead and copy exactly what the Specialist does.
"You've got it, Chief," says Bannik with a nod, grabbing a clipboard and papers from one of the work benches they pass by in their walkings. "All right. Iosif. Main thing we need is to get each and every bird that can be moved into a parking spot so the Deck is clear if we need to scramble again. Then what we're going to do." He's drawing lines and boxes on his clipboard. "Is we're going to get teams to do an assessment on each and every bird. Hopefully we'll have the post-flights, but if we don't, we'll need to do it ourselves, okay? That make sense?"
Malone lets himself be guided off to the side, shaking his head, "It's right there…" he mutters, at the part about his head, pointing at it. As if nobody knew where it was, right. Not paying attention to anything else at the moment. "Tired…"
"Are you frakking kidding me?" Devlin spits at Andrea, "Are you FRAKKING KIDDING ME? You stupid heartless cunt get your head out of your ass and pick somebody who's frakking fit to fly right now. You have a frakking choice right now, don't even pretend you don't. I do my job just like everybody else and you're picking now to pick on me? Are you frakking insane?"
"Yes, I can see it, but you need to sit. And you are not tired. You are going to continue to talk to me…" She lets her voice trail as she studies him" Lieutenant." She intones. Tell me what happened.." Her gaze slips over towards the explosion and yelling from Devlin for the moment before she helps Malone sit with close care. "Here we are. Now tell me what happened and how you got your bump." She pulls for a small flashlight and reaches forward to open his eyes and get a look at them with a quick flash of the light - whether or not it blinds him. Circe murmurs something to herself and is ducking down to pull out some gloves and draw them on.
Andrea's eyes close again. Yeah, that one hurt. But she has a job to do, and so does he. "Damn you to every available hell for making me do this," she mutters. Then, she gestures to the MPs. "Sergeant, the Ensign is unstable. Please escort him to the brig. Once he is there, see to hit he receives updates on his wifes condition." She then turns to Wade. "Looks like it'll be you and me, after all. Five minutes, then we're airborne."
"What… happened?" Malone shakes his head a little, "Why don't you tell me. I remember being out there, Raiders came. Then blackness…"
While the Black Knights are busy being drama llamas in the absence of their SL, the Harriers have all been rounded-up like sheep and are busy with pre-flight checks.
Iosif largely tunes out the drama among the pilots, focusing on Bannik and nodding rapidly and repeatedly. "Aye…think I can manage that. Lots of the birds to go through, ain't there?" But it's an idle comment, not a real question. "Anyhow, best get to it."
"Nobody's frakking making you do anything, you piece of shit," Devlin snaps at Andrea, "This is all you and your bitch-ass bullshit you stole from Poppy and can't even frakking pull off. Oh, so now you're going to brig me? Not even going to let me actually choose? I hope you feel real frakking big right now, you stupid cunt. If she dies before I see her again I am going to hold you responsible. You just remember that."
"Dismissed, Ensign." Andrea walks away from him as though ready to walk through a wall.
Wade says to Andrea "Don't give me that look, El-Tee" he narrows his eyes at that and the hears what Decoy says. He looks over his shoulder and turns to see him only to look back at Andrea when she sends him to the brig "What?" He shakes his head at this and takes a deep breath "Right…I'll grab a bird." He looks over his shoulder and yells at Damon "Chief! When I get back, I'm getting my stuff and I'll come down to help with the birds!" Damn right he will.
"Just keep talking.." Circe says with warmth and then lifts her hands and places her fingers over the wound. She begins to wipe at the blood, reaching for a cloth held between her legs. She daps the pad at the excess to get a better look. "So still feeling sick?" She asks him. Her hazel eyes drift to his, watching him carefully. "Alright Lieutenant.." She reaches in and breaks the cool pack, letting it grow colder before she holds it to his head and then lifts his hand to it. "Hold this hear. I am getting you a stretcher. Do not move. Keep talking to me as if I was right here." She then straightens from him and looks about to see if anyoen else is left and flags one of the other medics down, "Stretcher, concussion." She explains and he is off. She starts to move back towards Malone.
Bannik nods his head once. "Lots and lots," agrees the more seasoned Specialist. "But you know how you do 'em? You do the first one and then you go onto the second, and then the third? Got that?" At the shouting across the Deck, Tyr screws up his brow, clearly conflicted. But then he shouts: "Let's get a tug over here! I need a tug! Iosif, get me a tug!"
Even though the big birds are ready to go, none of them can launch because CAP protocol mandates 2 Vipers to every Raptor. Popping open the hatch of his ride, Trask removes his helmet and bellows in the commanding tone all CPOs learn, "Black Knights, move your asses! This is not frakkin' pumpkin detail!"
Andrea pulls her helmet back on and climbs the ladder. "Ready to go, sir. Launching as soon as I'm in the tube." Her eye goes to Malone, just for a moment, for one frakking moment. "Take care, Splash!" She calls. That should be okay. Then she's in the cockpit.
"You do that, El-Tee," Damon shouts back to Wade. He's doing his walk-around of the Deck, trying to get a decent assessment of the total damage. Various POs are bringing him clipboards with reports and numbers, but he doesn't do more than skim over them briefly. He wants to see it with his own eyes, not as scrawls on paper. "I need to get a full report together for Command…" he says to nobody in particular, frowning as he surveys the wreckage that's being cleared up. There's a moment where he looks completely lost with that faraway look in his eyes, staring off into space. Trask's bellow snaps him out of it, though, and brings him back to reality. He moves back through toward his office, taking brief moments to talk to deckhands on his way there to make sure they're all right. "You're doing a good job. We moved fast. Keep it up."
Malone pose nods a little bit as he hears that, and starts talking about some obscure ancient law from Libran. Glancing around for a few moment as he talks, pausing a little bit at Andrea's words, offering a momentary smile and a half-salute. "You too…" he replies, beforegoing back to the law talk.
Wade will be ready to go, when he finds an able bird to fly. He looks at Trask but says nothing, just moving towards the one the decks are getting ready to launch. He gets his helmet back on, climbs the ladder and sits inside the cockpit. Canopy lock, pre-flight, all green, ready to launch. "Systems green, BlackKnight-308, launching" ZOOOOM! There he goes out of the launching tube.
"Tug it is, mate!" Iosif hollers, securing a line for Bannik. The ongoing interplay between the pilots is watched in flitted looks over his shoulder. One can't really avoid it, really. But he does his best to continue to tune it out.
Returning to Malone's side, Circe places a hand to his shoulder. "Okay, your ride is coming, Lieutenant. Once you get to sick bay and they fix you up. You can rest." She says. Her hazel eyes continue to study him him as two more staff bring a stretcher and she releases her hold on his shoulder slowly. Her smile is faint and she nods to them. "Alright, need you to lay down sir." She intones and is there to help him if need be, her hands lifted slightly away from her body in preparation to catch him.
The MPs on duty on the Deck do respond to Andrea's call for assistance, approaching Devlin. Though it's unclear whether they actually intend to brig him or not. Mostly they will just attempt to escort him away from the Deck.
While she's punching up her pre-flight, Andrea looks over to the MPs and calls out. "Brig him on my authority, for disobeying a direct order and insubordination to a superior officer. I'll deal witht he paperwork when I get back." Canopy down, Andrea waits as her bird is arranged in a tube, then launches.
"Hey - hold on," Damon calls out as the MPs start to escort Devlin away. "Listen, I'm not trying to countermand orders or anything, yeah? I just want to make sure that you know that his wife was just pulled out of a Viper in bad shape and that she's up in Sickbay now. She was barely breathing when we pulled her out. By all means, take him away, but just keep that in mind."
Bannik looks over at the MP's moving towards Devlin and shakes his head, making a cutting motion across his throat. Don't do it, he seems to be urging. In a quiet sort of way. But he's back to the work. "I need some more tugs! I need each of these birds off my floor! Let's get some pushing going here! Come on! What if we had to get them out again? We don't lie down here!" He points at Iosif, and then a parking area. "Right over there! Ease -662 right over there!"
Malone nods a little bit, waiting until he's seen the CAP launch, one Viper in particular. "Good luck…" he mutters under his breath. Pausing a bit to look back to the medic, offering a momentary grin, "Oh, that law was too boring for you?" he asks, a bit lightly, before he nods a bit, "Lay down… Rest…" Moving to drop himself onto the stretcher a bit heavily. *THUD*
"Could somebody let the CAG know?" Devlin asks the MPs. He doesn't resist them at all, easily escorted off, though he gives Damon a bit of a nod for his intervention.
"Okay so not so graceful.." As the stretcher is lifted slowly, Circe rises with it. Her golden eyes settle on him and she nods her head, "Not one for law…far too boring. I would rather be fishing back on Lake Nemi - drinking in the sun." She smiles brilliantly with a show of teeth. "You got a slight concussion Lieutenant…that is all. But we don't want you moving too much." She pats his arm in a friendly way. "You can talk about all the law you want with these two gentleman." She motions to those getting him off the flight deck before she takes a step back.
"Bloody hells, that," is Iosif's editorial comment to the MPs moving around Devlin. He exchanges a shake of his head with Bannik. "Mental, guv. Positive mental. But aye. Not our business supposing. Mmph…" That last is a grunt as he gets to the physical moving of the aircraft. Which he's been trained how to do well enough, and manages without knocking it into a wall or person or anything else it shouldn't be knocked into.
The MPs frown at Damon's account. At Andrea, particularly. They are dubious MPs. But they do say a half-apologetic, "C'mon, Ensign," and head Devlin off.
Malone chuckles as he hears Circe's words, "Quite true," he offers. "That's probably why I was out here, not doing… law stuff when…" Looking to those two gentlemen. "Okay…" Nodding a bit at the mention of the concussion. "Oh, one of those. That…" He trails off, shrugging a little bit.
"I'll send a runner, sir." Damon nods to Devlin as he's led away. And he does so, immediately. Off runs a wiry Apprentice to notify Cidra. "How're you doing?" he asks Circe as he passes by her. "Medical need any more hands to help, or you guys good for now?"
The question is aimed in her direction and the medic turns to give the Chief a glance. "Fine Sir, it seems we got the worst taken care of…" She gives a scuff of the treads of one boot over the one that has the remnants of Malone's stomach still atop it. Circe gives a tug of the rubber gloves and deposits them in a side pocket. "I think we are good, just want to get your Deck clear sir and our people taken care of." Lagana intones. Her eyes drift to the Vipers and remembers overhearing that this had never been as bad before. "Sorry you have so much work to do…" She says faintly, finally letting her hazel eyes return to him. "Really if we just start ushering them towards the exit, I can check them and ascertain whether or not they need to be seen at sick bay.."