IC: So Say We All

 

3LT Sampson Fuller
Life Points:18/18 Plot Points 7/7

Behind Curtain #1

The Hot Jump momentarily doubled Sampson over, and he puked. It was a good thing he'd not had time for a meal because it could have been worse. And now he was hungry.

"Frak, First time experiencing a hot. Okay, Give me red on Aurora. The woman has been through hell, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let that trend continue. Situation is, since command saw fit to leave us understaffed as a unit, that means we'll be pulling the hard line. I want Our remaining teams at significant fallback points in case the tinnies think they can take my first command out from under me, and I'm assuming Major Deering is going to want to have words with us. See if you can't get extra kit provided for that new Marine lieutenant . . . umm, Styrker."

Sampson was thinking on his toes. There was a lot to be done, but what he really wanted was to make his people ready and chilly. "I'd really like to check in on our guests but don't know that we have time. Things are going to be hot, and we are going to be stressed beyond breaking. While we still have the chance to do so, rotate people in groups of 2 to get a hot meal and a second to breathe. That goes for the MA's. They look fit to snap, and I don't want anyone buckling under the pressure. Have squad leaders ready to report to me in, Umm, 15 minutes as to any needs the teams may have. And Sergeant? I want Green to be in the front on this one, unless you advise otherwise I want my people to see that I'm not asking for anything I'm not willing to do. Let's make sure we are on hand to greet the stragglers in that last raptor."



Settling in to the comforting rumbling of the descending lift, she looked to her lap, and the only thing that still remained unusual, as she went through her post flight procedures.

"You've given the Old Girl her fangs back, and we've saved your life. I would say that makes us all square." Artemis said aloud to the unconscious pilot. As she finished her procedures, she turned back on her DRADIS to keep tabs on what was still happening outside of Meleager; a habit she had picked up since a few of her exercises were followed by an impromptu second exercise launched from landing.

She focused on Ancient Serpent 6, now squawking as Silver Zero-Zero-One, as it left Tinker Bell. Silver Lady's sudden turn of speed wasn't a complete shock to her; Snakeshit often mentioned with a mischievous smile that his Raptor had 'some work done under the hood'. She was shocked, however, at just how much acceleration he had managed to get out of it. It may have even been a shock to Snakeshit, as Artemis realised the Raptor was going way too fast for any kind of safe landing.

Unless... A thought struck to Cadet Lieutenant as her lift came to a halt. Tell me he's not pulling a...

As if on cue with her thoughts, Silver Lady's heading indicator on her DRADIS instantly turned 180 degrees. Her eyes widened as she tuned her wireless into the LSO's channel as she watched the Raptor close with Meleager, before being swallowed by its DRADIS signature. The lack of mention of Silver Lady on the channel calmed her a little; she knew Sterndecks wouldn't have missed what it was doing, and the lack of even acknowledging it over the channel meant she wasn't worried about it. She waited a full five seconds of radio silence from when the Raptor's signature disappeared before exhaled a breath of relief.

The medical teams hands were Artemis' first indication that her cockpit hand been opened from the outside. She let the medics do their work with her passenger whilst she stayed out of their way as best she could. As soon as they had finished, she powered down her DRADIS and wireless once again before quickly releasing her own restraints and leaping out of her cockpit; the last of the adrenaline from her flight still left her a little overexcited.

"Get her refueled, and get her lined up second for a catapult." She rapped the hull of her Viper as she addressed the Wrecking Crew members working on it. "I don't want to miss any more of the Hot Drop than I have to." She knew they knew what she meant behind her words; deck crews were quick to remember pilots who suffered from Jump Sickness.

Alana only had time to take off her helmet and change her flight suit's internal air supply before the nausea, confusion and cramp that came from an FTL jump flooded over her. An all too familiar burning sensation in her throat, and the sight of vomit in front of her bent over body let her realise the jump was over before she even realised it had happened. In her confusion she was whisked from her feet back into her Viper's cockpit, and it wasn't until she was waiting for her launch from the catapult she even had a true inkling why Deck Gangs sorted out pilot's pre-flight preparations in scramble situations, and why Meleager's Wrecking Crew were renowned for preparing a pilot for launch even when they weren't prepared themselves.



Joran let the nausea wash over him and away with no effect, getting through the jump no worse for wear. He'd never understood people who had difficulty with it - especially pilots. How could they do all that work with extreme g-forces and not learn to just let it pass? Either way, he had a more pressing issue. Letting the ire show in his glare, he again stepped between Meas and Goshan.

"Yes, drugged - she suffered quite an injury when the XO ran her down. Again, as I said before, resulting in my shooting him. But this particular patient has been released on her own recognizance by Lt. Fenks and is in no need of an examination... doctor. That said, we have just dropped into a hot combat zone, and Third-class Goshan and I have work to do - I suggest you make your way to Medical and lend a hand, and quickly. Or else find some corridor to hide in and get out of the way, doesn't matter. Just get the frak off of my deck."

Taking Goshan by the elbow, Chief Belar dismissed Meas by his manner if not by his words. Striding with her towards Wrecking Crew, he began calling out orders.

"What the FRAK is that bird doing on my FRAKKING DECK?! Get it in a tube, stick a random pilot in it and LAUNCH IT! We are at WAR people, and I don't care who's in them as long as those birds are doing their job and keeping my Gods-forsaken deck CLEAR for the important work of fixing them up and moving ammo. MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!!"

Meleager Hangar

Wrecking Crew races to comply with the Chief as Stone makes sure that the shuttle is safe to off-load. As Artemis' Viper is half-way in the Number One Catapult with the canopy already sealed, Stone starts raising Hell with her crew and pointing--quite agitatedly--at its landing skids. When one points to Chief Belar, she yells loudly enough to echo across the deck. "I DONT GIVE A FRAK IF ALL THE LORDS OF KOBOL TOLD YOU TO DO IT, IF ANY OF YOU EVER LAUNCH A PLANE THAT PUT DOWN THAT HARD WITHOUT INSPECTING ITS SKIDS AGAIN, I WILL BUST YOUR ASSES ALL THE WAY BACK TO FRAKKING
Tail Team (its exact name can very from ship to ship, but the most common is 'Tail Team') is the most junior Section of the Deck Gang, responsible for dealing with the end-of-shift cleaning duties, general 'scut' work, and the planes of the most obnoxious Viper Jocks. It would not only be a rather nasty black-mark (at least aboard whichever ship it happened on) to be transferred from as elite a Section as the Wrecking Crew (or whatever a given ship calls it; most use 'Wrecking Crew') back to Tail Team, but if that specific Deck Gang fully fills out all the paperwork and counseling forms they are supposed to--which very few do--then it's a black mark that can follow a person from ship to ship. Such a transfer is almost always a very public statement of a lack of trust in that Deck Hand and/or incompetence on that Deck Hand's part. (Rarely it's because they need a competent leader guiding the Tail Team.) Given that this Wrecking Crew has been together for years, it means Stone is really pissed off and serious about this. She does not normally threaten her crew with punishments, and when she does threaten or hand out punishment, she does behind closed doors and as discretely as possible.
TAIL TEAM! NOW-FRAK IT!
"
Stone snatches a light and dives under the Viper as she pulls a few tools out of her belt. She
Okay, the first roll (the landing skids) needs to be higher than the second roll (representing the Viper's airframe fatigue and severe force of the landing). If the second roll is higher, then the landing skids have severe stress fractures in them from having to transfer all the motive power of the Viper to the shuttle, plus the two hard landings (neither of which are Artemis' fault).
Landing Skjd Integrity:
Dice Roll:
5d20
d20 Results: 14, 3, 10, 3, 2 (Total = 32)
VERSUS
Long-Term Airframe Fatigues and Severe Landing Stress:
Dice Roll:
2d50
d50 Results: 19, 22 (Total = 41)
intently inspects the landing skids for thirty seconds--each--before she rolls out from underneath the Viper with a stern, neutral inspection on her face.

"This Viper's skids are totally frakked. This plane is a No-Fly. Pull it, tag it Priority, and the rest...you bunch of hooligans know what to do. Damn, down a bird unless Chief--who I told by the Echidna Deck Gang is Lord and God of the Mark Six--can pull a miracle from somewhere, then repairs we keep it a Deck Queen for twenty-four to forty-eight." Wrecking Crew quickly springs into action, quickly (but noticeably more 'gently') backing the Viper out of the Catapult than they had loaded it. As they carefully (and as quickly as they dared) tow it towards the parking space next to the 'Nuclear Raptor' (which was usually where they parked planes needing repairs and such) and pop its canopy to extract Artemis, Stone nods in satisfaction, turns around, and about walks into Chief Belar. "Chief!" It's clear she was not expecting him to be in hearing range. "That plane's skids are frakked, Chief. Repairs--shaving the book as close as we dare--will keep it grounded twenty-four to forty-eight; each skid assembly has two to five severe fractures, and at least two of the gimbal housing have visible fractures in them." While Stone was keeping her voice under control (and her skin from turning bright red), it was obvious she was hoping that Belar would not comment on her asides.



With a stern look on his face, Chief gestures towards Stone.

"A word."

Turning to Goshan, he gives her quiet orders to retrieve a spare pair of coveralls and tool belt for him while he deals with the situation - imparting the need for privacy with Stone while he does so. Watching her shuffle away out of earshot, he turns back to Stone.

"AT2. While I'm not going to discuss your language there - the Lords of Kobol know I'm guilty of it myself - I am going to have to ask you where you feel you get the authority to make assignments to Tail Team? Did I miss a promotion for you in the last 10 minutes?" Pausing a moment for effect, he watches her face flush a little harder, and then continues. "I thought not. Still, I suppose it's effective enough, if you have the ear of your Deck Chief. A safe assumption. And I do want to thank you for catching that bird before it flew the coop as broken up as it was - not only could it have lost us a pilot on landing, but frankly that sort of error could kill it in the tube and lose us a pilot, a tube, and possibly more of Old Mel than we could spare in this situation."

Joran felt sick inside - he was about to cross a line that had been drawn by every first-class and below in history. Every last one of them had thought 'When I make Chief, I'll NEVER be like that. I'll lead with kindness and understanding and I'll remember what it was like when I wasn't a Chief.' And yet how quickly that goes away, every time. And that was part of the problem - Joran DID remember being on the other side of this situation. He remembered hating the Chief that did it to him. And he remembered how effective it had been in making sure it never happened again, in making him stronger as an engineer, in creating camaraderie for him with the other junior personnel. And so, with a heavy heart, Joran prepared to cross that line - the first of many, surely - that would cement him into his role as an effective Chief.

Watching as Stone relaxed, the color in her cheeks faded and she had the beginnings of a smile on her face. You'll understand this someday, Arianna. I hope you can forgive me on that day. Keeping the stern expression on his face, Joran steeled himself to continue.

"Now, would you like to explain to me why in the names of the FRAKKING Lords of Kobol your squad doesn't know to inspect a bird before putting it in a tube?!"



Dr. Jared Meas

Seing how another glimp of hope for a good day slip through his hands Jared decides he has nothing to get in this hanger and tag along with the medical team, keeping some distance to save himself from any complains.

Meleager Hangar

Goshan quietly spoke. "Yes Chief." She then headed off at a comfortable pace, swaying mildly when she stayed put, but easily and handily navigating the bustling Deck Gang without any issues at a steady pace. At the same time, the Deck Gang moves its path around the Chief and Stone to be just far enough back not to impede them, but be out of earshot on the busy deck. As Belar dressed her down, Stone looked Belar levelly in the eyes until he finished speaking, her bearing correct and her attention respectfully focused on Chief Belar; her subtly hardening expression and eyes the only clues that she has any emotions at all. Waiting a few seconds--to make sure Chief Belar was done speaking--Stone then answers his questions in order.

"You are correct, Chief, I was not promoted nor do I have the authority to assign them to Tail Team. I do, however, have the authority to remove them from my Section, and the recommendation of a Section Leader is usually given weight when it becomes necessary to shuffle personnel in such a fashion." Her tone was completely neutral and level; while clearly she truly meant to show him respect, the best she appeared to be able to manage was neutrality. "It was my mistake to lose my bearing in such a way, Chief, and it will not happen again. The reason I lost my bearing was that I--and Chief Patrick--trained Wrecking Crew better-" Now her voice showed emotion, and it was anger...though not at Chief Belar, but at her Section. "-fr-far better than that, Chief. I have no excuses nor reasons to offer for it, Chief, and my position--as it's wartime and that would have a been a fatal, Class A Incident--is yours to reassign. I will not fight it if you so choose, Chief." Her eyes showed a hint of great pain behind a fair blaze of anger as she swallowed, but her voice was steady she finished.

"If you will accept my--strictly 'off-the-record'--read of it...The Cylons still have them off-balance, Chief. Most of the crew aboard is off-balance, Chief...and the Deck Gang has got the largest proportion of green, just-out-of-training rookies and actual young 'kids'. Most of them are 22 or under, Chief, looking for a better life through the Fleet. Despite all the live-fire, no-notice, realistic drills the Skipper ran--in new and interesting ways--too many of them really never expected that we would be the tip of the Fleet's spear against a resurgent Cylon threat. Most of the green kids, plus a fair number of your Third- and Second-Classes, Chief, just did not believe the Cylons were going to come back...or at least not without the 'sufficient warning' Adar has been promising we would have. The only people that have seen any action at all--either against pirates and disasters, like me, or because they are old veterans--are all either Leads or Seconds...and that's about it for the Deck Gang when it comes to combat experience. Senior Chief, of course, has seen every variety of Hell war can produce, and so has Vector--sorry Chief, the CAG--and a few others, like First Class Mundy, Staff Sergeant Burke, or a couple of the Marines, plus a few others spread throughout other departments. Most of the crew, though, has never fired--or even seen fired--a hot in 'anger', Chief, and being the point of the spear has them scared...this was, until less than an hour ago, a training ship, Chief. The exhaustive training is paying off--they are doing their jobs and not openly panicking--but most of them are quietly panicking in their minds or deeply afraid, Chief, and that internal panic and fear is keeping them from fully thinking through everything...they are just operating by routine. In the case of my Section, Chief, while they know the checklist backwards, forwards, sideways, sleepwalking, and in the dark, buck-ass-naked, without gravity while covered in engine grease and listening to me sing opera--and can perform it to the Skipper's standards or better in any of those conditions--they are not used to actually loading the planes working without mine or my Second's presence, Chief. We also normally double-up Sections, Chief--to spread the experience around the rookies--or work in an assembly fashion when launching birds; while they are fully trained and practiced for this--and the knowledge and reflexes are there--the fact that they are on ship that is fighting a Cylon Ship twice our size has so locked their brains up with panic that they are doing things by the rote of routine, Chief."

She paused for a moment, then finished. "And myself or my Second are normally the ones that check the skids, Chief, given that my Section--despite being the best Section on the Deck Crew by the numbers or practically--are still quite young and lacking experience. In a rapid-turn-around situation like this, only him or I have the practice and skill to be able to check the skids at the speed they need to be checked. My Second is currently keeping an eye on the ammo shuttle-" Stone points to where her Second was while still keeping her attention on Chief Belar. "-to make sure those off-loading the ammo have enough warning to get to safety if a critical structural member gives way, something catches fire, et cetera, and I was en route back. They forgot about the step entirely, and that is why I exploded. They should have--as trained and practiced in 'full-contact' drills--either held up and gotten one or us, or stopped long enough to do it themselves using the Book methods, Chief." Stone shuts up, and her mask of neutrality locks back down as she awaits his judgment.

Meleager Corridors and Infirmary

As the passageways were cleared by the scary MAs and the intimidating Marines, the Medical teams worked to ensure the survival of everyone present. The man who appeared to be in charge--judging by how all the other medical personnel deferred to him, since he work a set of green utilities and no rank--was mostly focused on the Vice President. "Whoever the ham-handed hack was that treated her, they need to go back to medical school...for twice as long. Despite that, they did a decent job." The medical staff said nothing as the doctor continued on in an irritated tone of voice with similar comments, although there was grudging respect whenever he admitted that the 'hack' had done a 'decent' job. Meas was waved through the Marines and the MAs by both Corporal Crane and Corpsman Goshan, who then gestured him over to their side where they were treating the most injured of the Agents.

"We could use your help, Doc. An extra set of hands that are steady would be great." Crane smiled briefly at him--it was evident even through the surgical mask--and motioned to the gap Goshan left as she shifted to assist another Corpsman treating one of the other Agents. "There are trauma over-garments in that locker-" Crane nodded towards a set of open lockers showing several pale green surgical over-garments. "You should be a Large. There's gloves, masks, and surgical goggles over there too. Just ignore Doctor Fenks...he's usually worse. All the trauma must have him in a good mood." Crane's smile was again evident through her mask for a brief moment before her face fell back to neutral and she turned back to the unconscious agent. "And thanks for the help."

Meleager Hangar, around Raptor 006

Sergeant Adama nods. "Yessir." His raised voice easily carries over to the two squads forming a semi-perimeter. "Clarence, you're on the Veep's daughter. Her name is Aurora, she's been through Hell, and you are to take care of her...so be 'nice' and as 'gentle' as you can. Aramaki, you have CIC duty. Lock it down and keep it secure. Coordinate with the yeomen and--through the intercom--the mess hall to get the food and drinks coming. Knowing Skipper, she may have already thought of it; either way, get them routed to our people and the MAs. You're intelligent...use that. Also round up a sidearm, fatigues, and body armor for the Second Lieutenant on the Veep's staff, Stryker...and make sure the food gets to the Infirmary." Adama then spoke in one of his wireless sets for nearly two minutes as Yellow Squad jogged off and Red Squad rounded up Aurora and gently herded her towards the Marine Barracks. He finished, then looked back to Fuller. "Sir, it turns out that the Skipper has food already being prepped; I'll keep Yellow appraised of where our people and the MAs are, and Aramaki will coordinate the deliveries with the yeomen. As for the Skipper, she will see if you think it's urgent, but she currently fighting the ship, Sir, and figures--if we survive this engagement--we'll have enough time for a debrief then. It was passed along that coordinating with the Deck Chief in regards to counter-boarding ops--and food delivery for his people--would be 'wise' and 'appreciated', respectively. As for the shuttle, they should be coming down Lift Four 'soon'. Green Squad is currently good, needing nothing, Sir." Adama resumed his watchful silence as he listened to his wireless sets.



Dr. Jared Meas

Poor Crane, she really was a sweet and caring girl but Jared was all to self-centered and disappointed right now to even notice it. Although he choose to followed her instruction and lend them a hand as he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he didn't do all that he could to help these peoples.

All dressed up, he filled the gap after Goshan, "No need to thank me, I only did what any man would have done.", the doctor glared briefly toward the man called Fenks "Despite my meaty handlings and non-existing trauma education." facing Crane again he continued "As a psychologist though I'm genuinely concerned by the lack of emotional control amongst your superiors on board this ship, especially since the war hasn't even begun yet." the term war hasn't as far as Jared knows been officially said yet. Although given his insight into man-cylon politics, such a thing is inevitable at this stage.




 

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