Enemy Contact
Enemy Contact
Summary: Those people on Leonis, just love their cylons.
Date: 27 ACH
Related Logs: All surface logs

File created: 2008-12-10 12:53

CASUALTIES: Lt. Delko, Dusty, Two other NPC Marines

File created: 2008-12-10 12:53

The evening before, the SST team headed out again to get more recon. When they returned, they report in that a Heavy Raider was moving south. Those in command dispatch on Raptor-G and some marines. It's time to start kicking some butt down here. They need to make sure none of them are flying over their position and having spotted the bunker and heat signatures.

Delko comes in and gets those ready to move out, prepared for the mission. "You are authorized to go weapons hot. We've no idea what the LZ holds. Take them out and secure the area."

Micah has been sleeping, or trying to sleep, what with his patrol duty the previous night that ran into the early hours. He begins shuffling out of his sleeping bag when the order comes to move out; his sidearm is fumbled for first, then boots and gloves and scarf.

Hazzard glances up towards Delko from his bedroll, where he has been sitting and cleaning his rifle. He nods his head slowly as if confirming that Delko is speaking the truth about the Raider and slowly rises up to stand. The rifle is held in one hand as he looks towards Delko to see if anyone of the SST is needed. He is equipped and ready to go if needed.

Novella stands at the announcement and grabs for her helmet, resting inside a zipped sack by her bedroll. She shakes the helmet out, eventually ripping the sack off it. A stoop scoops up a jacket and gloves and she dashes out the door to start a supa-fast preflight.

Nately stands up from his spot against the wall, tugging on his gloves and hood. Standing, he makes sure everything is strapped where it should be, then he files up towards the front of the bunker, CR M115 held against his chest.

Novella stands at the announcement and grabs for her helmet, resting inside a zipped sack by her bedroll. She shakes the helmet out, eventually ripping the sack off it. A stoop scoops up a jacket and gloves and she dashes out the door to start a supa-fast preflight.

Nately stands up from his spot against the wall, tugging on his gloves and hood. Standing, he makes sure everything is strapped where it should be, then he files up towards the front of the bunker, CR M115 held against his chest.

The command is given to load up and then Delko is heading out with them once he has his gear prepared.

Novella is doing her best to pre-flight to Phantasm. Not everyone has been rated on these cool toys yet. She's wiping snow off important panels and checking under a few to ensure a few common things with Raptors. Her helmet is already secured to her suit, the jacket laying on the ramp. Snow flies as she does her best to hurdle around in the power that comes up past her knees. But she dashes around to the rear and scrambles up the ramp, grabbing the jacket once more and disappearing inside.

Colonial Marine Assault Shuttle - The Phantasm is used to deliver troops or vehicles to a target zone in rapid fashion and provide fire support while on the ground. They have a limited jump range which allows them to surprise an enemy. The shuttle is capable of both space and atmospheric flight. The upper deck can hold up to a platoon of Marines while the lower deck can hold another platoon or two Landram Mark V assault vehicles. the nav area holds: The Pilot and Co-Pilot, weapons load master and four turret gunners for manual, on the ground firing.


Micah trudges after Novella, and in comparison to the woman's zipping about he's practically stately. This isn't to say that he's dawdling, but once things become business there's a certain switch that tends to flip on. Letting Novella check the console, he moves directly to the pilot's seat with a few crisp words to her, "I'll fly, you figure the weapons out on this thing," he mutters, slinging his coat off and waiting for everyone to finish loading up.

The blond Ensign slides into the seat at the copilot's ejection seat and begins charging all the systems. Lights begin coming on and the DRADIS console comes on. Rocker switches are run down the line. "Weapons coming on-line in 5..4..3.." She leans to the other side of her controls and begins aligning the intertial nav system.

[PHANTASM_1190: Nately] Nately climbs aboard, heading directly towards a rifle. He sets himself up, familiarizing himself with the gun, then sucks in a breath, preparing for deployment.

[PHANTASM_1190: Micah] Once everyone's aboard, Micah jabs the hatch control to cause the thing to slam shut before re-pressurising the ship. His coat is flung onto one of the benches along with his gloves, and he drops back into the pilot's seat before strapping himself in. "Weapons, check. Launching in five, hold on tight, this might get bumpy."


South Beach (#1776RXF) Leonis - Surface

27 ACH 6735 Souls

The beach here is mostly covered with snow, but the land is solid and is able to be landed upon. A small dock sits down near the water, where a few fishing boats sit, although one has been shot to pieces and is half sunk, with the bow buried into the sand below.

This area also shows where the strafing of cylon machine guns have tore up the wooden pier, some houses nearby demolished and a frozen hand rises up from some of the deeper snow, as if reaching for help.


PHANTASM_1190 zooms by overhead.

Dark night, snow is blowing like hades and making flying not the best of abilities right now. The Phantasm has a bumpy ride, knocking people around inside as the winds buffet. But it does help to keep them off of sight. The huge resevoir down here is flown across as they come up to the small fishing town on the south end. Contacts are picked up on the ground, about half a dozen so far. And yes, they can see the spit of hand cannons coming off those walking metal DOOM-cans.

[PHANTASM_1190: Novella] "Mud Crawlers! Half a dozen, plus!" Novella begins toggling weapons systems. "Targeting!"

[PHANTASM_1190: Micah] It can't be helping that the Phantasm's erstwhile pilot has probably never handled a beast quite like this, before. Every ship's a little different, even amongst vipers. "Keep them busy, Cav" he mutters, maneuvering the clunky ship in lower for a first pass.

[From PHANTASM_1190:]

"I hope you fly as good as you talk," Lex comments from her strapped in seat, gear and rifle securely stowed. The blonde marine could be on a quiet carriage ride through a park for all the concern she actually displays. At the contacts, she grabs her rifle, drops her restraints, and grabs a hand hold near the open door, ignoring the bite of cold as she takes aim, cover fire, baby!

[PHANTASM_1190: Nately] From his spot at the rifle, Nately snaps to as adrenalin takes over and he zones in on a target. "Toasters on Ice - I've always wanted to see that,"

Dusty, one of the Marines loaded into Spooky, brings up his weapon as the aiming begins and he readies to fire on one of the target bulletheads. grr.

[PHANTASM_1190: Novella] Novella squeezes the trigger, spurting flame from the turret on the Phantasm. Still getting used to these controls. The rounds kick-up snow all around her target and finally walk right up the Centaurian's arm.

[PHANTASM_1190: Micah] After sweeping the cumbersome ship in as low as he can — to the tune of bitching betty warning him of their altitude — Micah banks the phantasm off to the right and attempts to bring it in for another hair-raising pass.

The firefight begins, with Spooky strafing and the marines firing from any advantage point they can get. Bullets pound into metal making them stagger, but they don't give up. Red lights move back and forth in the falling snow, making eerie red pinpoints for targets.

Dusty, that nice MArine with the bad dirty jokes and the funky pipe lighter, gets a burst of centurion fire in the guts and his gear splatters as he falls into the phantasm, twitching until falling still, collection of grey tubing slipping out from inside him.

[PHANTASM_1190: Nately] Firing off a round from his rifle, Nately doesn't look too pleased with the ding he leaves in his target. It didn't explode in a shower of metal and electrical fire, and so with a grit of his teeth, he locks back on and tries again. Either he is oblivious to exploding marines, or he's trying really hard not to concentrate on what could very well be his own fate if he doesn't keep his head in the game.

Lex is good at a couple of things, and one is apparently gut shots on Centurions. Not that they have intestines to damage, but center mass is center mass. Once her fellow shooters have disembarked the vessel, the private leaps from her perch and at the ship's door, and freefalls into a snow bank. Death from above! A graze across her abdomen is barely felt, mostly eaten by her armor. Never let it be said that the CMC doesn't know how to throw a party. Lex doesn't see Dusty make a red speckled snow angel, since she's busy climbing out of her own Wile E. Coyote-like impression. Her rifle comes up again. "Here kitty. Nice kitty."

[PHANTASM_1190: Novella] Novella doesn't let up her firing, even as one of the Centaurs rakes across the left wing. It just makes her more angry. "Godsdamnit!!" she growls, mashing the trigger again.

[PHANTASM_1190: Micah] There's a shudder of the ship's frame as it's struck by centurion fire in a polka-dot pattern across the left wing. Gritting his teeth, Micah steers it higher again and briefly asides to his wingman, "Looks like they got lucky with the pot shots. Keep 'em comin', Cav."

Lex eats another Centurion round in the gut, sending a rush of air from her lungs. Oh, bruised. Oh, yes. At least. Thank you armor, I love you, kthx. She doesn't have time to take stock. Some warm gobbety bits rain down in her direction, at least a couple landing in and adhering to her hair. Bits of marine3 begin to freeze in the cold, snowy air. "Frak you, bulletheads!" Her shot goes just slightly wide, dinging the arm of her target. She grits her teeth, sucks in a harsh breath, breathes out, and brings her weapon to bear again.

The sounds of marines dying and one goes pitching out of the door to hit the ground. His body broken and his face half blown off as bits of brain and blood fly back on those inside. Blood covers the snow below the Phantasm as it continues to make a run and drive the centurions into the ground.

[PHANTASM_1190: Nately] Nately gets another sad little ping on the cent he's targeted, and again, his teeth clench. This time, however, he /is/ distracted by a couple of marines being blown to smithereens near him. "Frak this," he hisses, jumping out the door which he has been aiming from. Popping back up out of the snow, he sets his sights on the same cent, albeit from a different angle.

[PHANTASM_1190: Novella] "Awsunuvabitch!" Novella cries. The round punctures through the cockpit and hitting her across the right side of her abdomen, ripping a nice hole in the suit. But she doesn't let up. The rounds track across her target and blow its leg clean off. She crumples a bit to the right but does her best to keep firing.

Another graze causes a gritting of teeth and a grunt to escape the otherwise pain-stoic private. She glances back to take stock of the field, then gets up enough to haul ass in a crouch to a nearby structure. Pvt Lex takes a knee beside and slightly behind it, bracing her rifle and putting as much of her body out of the direct line of fire as possible. "Use your cover!" She reaches up and tightens the strap on her helmet, making her body as small a target as possible. The best thing about the harsh cold is it keeps things perkynot that, you perverts. Rifle up, aim. "You're goin' down, chrome dome." Visualize, actualizestop reading self help books and blow the frakker away.

[PHANTASM_1190: Micah] Strafing the ship in low again, Micah tries to keep it steady as another marine jumps off into the snow, and the sound of blood and guts hitting the bulkhead behind him is heard. Steady. Focus. He darts a quick look toward Novella as the round slices through the ship; she's his top concern at the moment, the marines can fend for themselves. "Frak it. Cav, you okay?"

So, apparently the choice to jump wasn't the best for Nately. Who knew that cents in the snow were easier to focus on from above? His shot misses entirely, which is even worse than a minor dent in metal. "Dammit!" he hollars, then aims again, ready to squeeze off some more shots.

[PHANTASM_1190: Novella] Cav's merciless fire rips apart another Centaurian just as more fire tears into the skip. A piece of shrapnel off the rear bulkhead flies forward and racks her hard in the rear of the helmet. Still clutching her right side with one arm, she slumps forward, straps holding her in the ejection seat securely.

Lex is winged again. It's like being almost bulletproof. Every time she sticks a part out to take a shot, somebody reminds her there's a whole heap of pain just waiting for her to make the wrong move. "Cover, cover…" She takes two steadying breaths, and gently squeezes on the exhale.

[PHANTASM_1190: Micah] One of those rounds peppering the ship slices right through and finds a home in a certain pilot's gut. It's nothing compared to the pounding his copilot takes however, and he quickly barks an order to the remaining marine cowering inside the back of the ship to make a jump for it. The ship is steered as best he can, not to plow into those on the ground — and hopefully to offer some cover with its soon-to-be-wreckage. Then it's a matter of clamping a hand over the stomach wound he's sporting, and jabbing at the ejection button for Novella's seat, and his own. Time to bail out.

Nately gets another ping! off on the cent, and seems resigned to doing minimal damage. He ducks back into the snow as he is fired at, then comes back up, sweat trickling down his forehead despite the cold. He shoots a glance up towards the weaving ship, then back at the targets, one of which he aims at.

It seems like the marines and pilots are having a really bad day. Blasts from the handcannons finally take out the controls of Spooky and she begins to head toward the ground. Marines jump out into the snow to try to get the centurions fire and lay down auto as fast as possible.

Eject buttons send those bleeding bodies out into some soft snow where they sink down about three feet. The Phantasm makes a whining sound as it heads for the ground. Metal screeches and three of the Cents get plowed under as it skids across them along the road and finally spins to a stop; smoking from the wounds it has on the metal hull.

It isn't, thankfully, too far to go from ship to ground. Micah's own restraints are torn off first, body kept low as he tries to stay beneath the enemy fire — and takes another round right in the chest. Coughing up blood, he shuffles forward to unstrap Novella as well, though doesn't manage to get to her in time before centurion fire tears through her flight suit. Literally throwing his body atop hers to shield it, he draws his sidearm and shakily aims, hoping to get off a potshot or two at the nearest toaster.

Though the pilots seem to have a little case of FAIL controlling the bird under fire, its sudden fall from grace does squash Lex's problematic target. "Who says pilots ain't useful in ground combat?" Lex grins, though a little disheartened at the loss of a ride out of this hole, and hefts her rifle, finding better cover with a new line of sight on the next obvious shiny chromed target. "Name's Lex. Have a bullet." Squeeze. Left arm! "Take cover, airies!" She can feel it. She's gonna have to go over there and drag them behind something. Lex curses, and strafes. Strafes and curses.

Lex spends 1 luck points on Puttin' this puppy down so I can save me some occifers. What with them bein' all squishy like..

Nately keeps his eyes on the targets in front of him, though he is clearly shaken by the amount of bodies that come tumbling out of the ship along with the other marines. Lex's comments give him a few seconds of distraction, and he laughs hoarsely at one of them before taking aim once more.

Lex's strafing fire successfully unmans a robot as she reaches down, doing the one armed rifle thing (walkin' the dog, walkin' the dog). Some fancy footwork (don't tell her former dance instructor) saves her, just barely, from eating a round. She reaches down, grabs the back of Novella's collar, and drags. And fires. Drags and fires.

<Trait Roll> Lex rolls Strength and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

Combat Log - Search for KO

10:46:25 - Cent7 attacks Dusty with Centur and hits! (SERIOUS DAMAGE to Abdomen) !!KO!!

10:57:45 - Cent2 attacks Marine2 with Centur and hits! (SERIOUS* DAMAGE to LeftLeg) !!KO!!

10:57:47 - Cent3 attacks Marine3 with Centur and hits! (MODERATE DAMAGE to Abdomen) CRIT !!KO!!

10:57:51 - Cent5 attacks Marine3 with Centur and hits! (MODERATE DAMAGE to Head) !!DOUBLE KO!!

11:04:40 - Novella attacks Cent1 with Spooky and hits! (MODERATE DAMAGE to LeftLeg) !!KO!!

11:10:46 - Novella attacks Cent5 with Spooky and hits! (SERIOUS* DAMAGE to RightLeg) !!KO!!

11:11:13 - Cent8 attacks Novella with Centur and hits! (LIGHT DAMAGE to Body) !!KO!!

11:22:33 - Cent2 attacks Novella with Centur and hits! (SERIOUS* DAMAGE to LeftWing) !!DOUBLE KO!!

11:32:58 - Marine1 attacks Cent4 with Rifle and hits! (SERIOUS* DAMAGE to Abdomen) !!KO!!

<Trait Roll> Lex rolls First_aid and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

Wait for it, wait for it. Micah keeps his weapon leveled at the Centurion that's trained on him, and pops off a hail mary that really has no right to any kind of success, coming from a half-dead pilot who's barely fired a weapon since basic training. Call it luck, or call it not wanting to meet his (and his wingman's) end just yet, but it pings off the toaster and sends it toppling. Then one of the Marines is approaching, and he manages to heft most of his weight off the smaller Novella, allowing her to drag while he scans for signs of any toasters still left standing.

As the last cent goes down, Nately's cheeks puff out in an exhalation of breath, and he glances around at his fellow marines, eyes lingering on the bodies for a moment. Then his gaze goes to the felled Spooky, and he comments, "Who's up for ice fishing? Or maybe snowmobiling first. I've always wanted to take a camping vacation in the mountains."

One of the remaining marines is pretty tore up too, but he works on fixing some damage and then begins looking around. "We have to get under cover." His gaze hits on the buildings around the area now and what they have to deal with here on the ground.

Private Lex drops Novella for a quick eval on an embankment. Combat medicine is rarely pretty, particularly when the marine in question only has rudimentary skill in patching. "We should strip our gear out of the hunk—we got a wireless in that thing?" Signals are risky, but you never know when you might need it. "Anybody got more medical training than your basic jury rig?" She looks to Micah. "You good enough to carry her? I'll scout. Take cover there." She points to an unassuming structure. "Don't bleed out and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Micah holsters his sidearm once it's clear they're alone. The snow's littered with tin cans and a few warmer bodies, soon to be a whole lot less so. Visibly swimming in and out of consciousness, he grits his teeth and headshakes to the first question. "Jus' basic first aid. Can't do much more than you already have. But I can carry her. Ah'm good." Which probably means he isn't, but. He shuffles forward and slides his arms beneath Novella's slack body, and stumbles to his feet.

Lex takes off to do a quick scout. Just like sentry duty. Honest. Except a lot more running and terror without seriously armed backup here. The private is careful, follows her training, and does her best not to die what with wounded depending on her mostly able body. "It's good to be a marine." She keeps her finger off the trigger, but woe to the toaster that harshes this momentary mellow.

Nately watches Micah stumble upwards, and the uninjured Marine goes to his side. "Hey," he states, jerking his chin. "You should probably concentrate on not bleeding to death. I can get her." He watches Lex go off to scout, then turns his face back to Micah.

The marine begins moving off as the others are picked up. He takes point for now and hopes they don't run into any others before they can find some shelter out of this weather. (go down park)

You head towards Park Avenue.

You head towards Park Avenue East.


Park Avenue East (#1783RXF) Leonis - Surface

27 ACH 6735 Souls

At the end of town, the asphalt road leads off toward the North and west. A sign shows — Ouranos and Nyx Airfield - 20 miles.

The main attraction here is Muse Lodge. Cabins for rent, a family style Restaurant, a small boat dock and hiking areas. Cars sit in the lot, but most have been torn up by strafing bullets and some were set on fire to show the burnt hulks of metal as snow flits around and lands, working to cover the devastation. A charred form can be seen inside one of the burnt vans.

The lodge itself took some hits, and there is scarring and charring from the fire that tried to take it down. The front doors hang off the hinges and some windows are busted out.

Exits: [ML] Muse Lodge [W] West


The marine comes back through the area, "I found a place, no cylons walking. A couple dead ones, we didn't kill them though."

Nately is now half carrying/half dragging the felled Novella, the weight of the woman making his progression slower than normal. When the marine comes through, he arches his brows and casts a glance at the others.

Micah has bandaged himself up as best he can with whatever supplies were available on hand. At least most of the bleeding's been stopped, and miraculously nothing's broken. He has his sidearm drawn, and is following close behind Nately and the other marine carrying his unconscious wingman.

The marine begins leading those here up to the lodge. He sets the door to the side so they can get in without falling over something and breaking their necks on top of the wounds. Another sweep is done with his rifle, before he motions them inside.

You head towards Muse Lodge.


Muse Lodge (#1786RXF) Leonis - Surface

27 ACH 6735 Souls

This lodge has been constructed from logs and is rather sturdy. Even though the outside has been through some destructive elements, the inside is almost like stepping back in time. The area has been gone through and some things are torn up, turned over and broken, but on the whole it is mostly servicable.

A large seating area with a huge fireplace. A check-in counter has a small, plushie tick sitting on the cash register and a dining area is seen through an archway. Up a flight of stairs, there are rooms for rent. Outside are cabins for rent as well. An attached area past the large seating area, shows a small, country store.


Nately carries Novella into the lodge, setting her down on a sofa in the lobby that's been shoved askew but not overturned. He glances over her, then steps away to make his own assessment of the area.

The marine has his own wounds tied up now too, but he is heading up the stairs to make sure nothing is up there that is planning on surprising them.

Setting her down, despite how it was done, seems enough to stir the unconscious pilot. She groans. Her left hand lifts a bit to lay across her. Her head lolls to the side in her helmet.

Micah eases himself down onto the arm of a neighbouring couch, keeping half an eye on Novella while he checks the clip of his weapon. "Private Nately, why don't you take a quick look around, see if anything's salvageable down here, and whether there's any back entrances, secure them. How badly hurt are you?" The sidearm is placed aside within easy reach, and he begins opening up the first aid kit he managed to grab from the phantasm.

The marine comes back down the stairs with some blankets and some medkit he found upstairs. Heading over to the pilot on the couch, he spreads one out over her. "Found another medkit here."

Novella's eyes flutter for a moment before they open fully, suddenly realizing she's awake. Her vision focuses on the ceiling of the lodge and she smiles. But as the other Marine arrives and speaks, the smile fades.. the pain beginning to register more. Her left arm lifts once more to her chest and she winces. "Frak," she sighs, barely audible. Another movement to her side and settles on the wound there. "Micah?" She doesn't look anyplace else just yet, just at the ceiling.

"Keep her warm," Micah murmurs to the marine, with a quick glance sidelong. "And how's your first aid?" Assuming Nately goes and does as he's told, and isn't too badly torn up, the pilot sticks with the rules of triage for now and tends to those most injured: which, at the moment, is Novella. Sinking one knee into the couch and touching her uninjured shoulder, he leans in to take stock of her condition. And grins, when her eyes flutter open. "Lie still, Cav. Those frakking toasters really ripped you a new one." Maybe there's an 'I'm sorry' somewhere. Undoubtedly there is. He was flying, he shouldn't have let this happen. But it's bitten back.

"Fair to middlin'," the Marine replies and opens up the medkit he found and whatever pack he has on his ownself. He looks at the patch job that Micah did and pulls out the morpha needle. "Sorry about this, sir, but it can't be helped," he apologizes to Nov and then gives her a stab in the thigh, sending the painkiller into her system.

<Trait Roll> Genesis rolls Fair and achieves a degree of Superb (6).

"Yeah," Novella sighs, looking a bit more sad in her helmet. She swallows and finally meets his gaze. "Check my side. I.." Cough. "I think its…" She clears her throat and tries to relax. "..still bleeding. Get pressure on it." She looks up to the Marine and gives him a nod as he sticks her. She bites back a yelp and clenches her jaw. "Frak.. Micah.." She does her best to stay clear. "Marines… Get them organized. Get a perimeter.. setup." She lolls her head to the side as the drugs hit her system.

It's some time later that Pvt. Lex makes entry into the lodge. Kicking snow off her boots, she peers in, then secures the back entrance behind her. She calls, "Don't go walkabout. I set up a perimeter with some fairly simple diversionary early warning systems." That's pretty vague coming from the private, but it probably means something explosive. "I didn't come across any patrols. It looks clear." Self starter is Lex.

Micah isn't looking so good, himself, which may or may not be obvious to Novella in her current condition. He's bleeding, and quite badly; gods know how much he's already lost, though it's mitigated by the bandaging he's patched himself up with. Rather than get in the way of the marine trying to help — and doing a damned good job of it, he squeezes the woman's shoulder and waits for those pain meds to kick in. Lex is glanced up at when she returns, and nodded curtly to. "I imagine it's only a matter of time before they find us here. Footprints in the snow, an' all that. How defensible would you say this position is, private?"

Private Gleason, (we'll use him again), waits till the pilot is half out of it before he removes her helmet and then gets back to seeing how bad the wounds are. "Gonna need to get those bullets out, but I'm no surgeon." He begins to pack the wound after cleaning it off with some iodine he found upstairs. Ow. Good thing she is feeling little pain.

<Trait Roll> Micah rolls First_aid and achieves a degree of Poor (1).

<Trait Roll> Novella rolls Awareness and achieves a degree of Good (4).

"My tits are frozen again." Mutter. Lex's entire experience on Leonis has been one of ice and numbness. In fact, should anyone ever ask after her time on the Colony, that's going to be her answer. My tits froze repeatedly and I didn't even get a stupid Tshirt. She stomps around a little, then heads upstairs. "It's not as bad as some of the locations, not ideal. With the winds blowing up out there, our tracks should be covered before another patrol moves in, unless they're keeping heavy tabs on the mountains." She shoves her hands against her body, and rubs her torso, after a moment cracking some thermal hand warmers and shoving those in her pockets. Her rifle remains stowed over her shoulder. "I recommend we hunker down and wait, sir. At least a couple of hours."

Novella doesn't fight the helmet removal, but she has enough presence of mind to lift her head with it. Muscle memory, maybe? She opens her eyes again and looks at Micah. "Lords, Micah.." Her right hand lifts and gestures to her wingman. "Forget me.. Get that-" Cough! cough. "-get it patched proper. Frakkin.. Girl Scouts do better." The packing of iodine doesn't seem to phase her. Her right hand drops to her sidearm and she pulls it out, sliding it across her stomach to her left hand. The sights are intentionally caught on some of her survival equipment and she runs the slide - slowly - chambering a round.

Gleason looks over to Lex at her comment and a smile is raised. It doesn't look like he is going to make comment about warming them up though. His attention is brought back to the pilot, "Let's not worry about your weapon right now, sir," in which he plans on gently removing it. Ensign on Morpha! Look out for those. Turning his head, he sees the other pilot, "I'll check you in a moment, if you could sit down, Ensign."

Tits, frozen or not, seem of relatively little interest to Micah at the moment. He merely grunts at the marine and nods, and releases Novella's shoulder when it's obvious she's in good hands. As good as they're going to get out here. "I'm fine, Cav, shut the frak up and sit still. You've only got a few hours, maybe a night at most, to heal up before we start movin' again." No, he's not fine. Yes, he's aware of this. Swallowing, he moves back to his feet shakily and fetches his own sidearm with another brisk nod toward Lex. "Private," he addresses the returning Nately from his circuit of the lower level, "report."

Lex exchanges a brief look with Gleason, then leaves the other marine to patching. She's not really that good at it. "I'll find some blankets. A place like this has to have some thermal gear." And she's going to raid the gift shop. The gift shop is going DOWN. Snow globe thief.

Summoning her last bit of strength, she wrestles her sidearm back. "Frakking hands off. You can have it when you're out or I'm dead." The growl is filled with pain and frustration. Her chest wound leaks a touch with it and she lays her head sideways to look at Micah. Her breathing is heavy for a moment, the woman slowly relaxing again as the drugs take full effect. The sidearm is lain across her leg while she looks aorund the room at whats visible from this angle. "Stay… warm."

Gleason isn't going to argue, she'll pass out soon enough. Pulling the blanket around Nov, he then stands and looks at Micah. Picking up his gear, he begins to head over to see what he can do with the other pilot. If his luck hasn't run out on the first one.

Micah isn't in much of a condition to argue, though that doesn't stop him from looking dour about it. He's hardly the type to play hero, so it's probably something else that makes him reticent about the medical attention. "Make it quick," he mutters to the marine, eyes on Cav as he grudgingly settles back down on the arm of the couch. Nately informs him that there was an exit through a maintenance hallway and a fire door, and both have been sealed and secured, but they may want to deal with the windows as well — if he can have the assistance of Gleason when he's done here. "I know it's a long shot, but keep an eye out for weapons, too. Ammunition," Micah tells Lex with a quick glance her way, while Gleason tends to his bleeding self.

<Trait Roll> Genesis rolls Fair and achieves a degree of Good (4).

Lex will be sure to bring Micah a toy bear huntin' pop rifle from the shop. Maybe even a postcard of a bear to go with it. Proper application of paperclips as stands, and they could have a regular carnival game going to pass the time.

Marines in charge of pilots. It's good to be the one with morpha. Gleason begins to patch up the wound and if the Ensign doesn't want painkillers, that iodine might make him wet his pants on the open wound. He needs to stop the bleeding though and clean it out as best as he can.

Tick Festival History Book(#1782Tn)

This is a book detailing the history of the Caste Park Tick Festival. It details the stories and legends of the celebration as well as photos of all the past Tick Kings and Queens. One of the photos has Tarik Regas, dressed in the traditional large bulbous headress with the overhanging jaws of the Tick King.

Some photos include


Novella's eyes linger on Micah for a moment. She tries to give him a reassuring smile for some reason. But it falls short on her face and she looks back to the ceiling. The woman lets out a long breath and settles back, finding an odd peace. Her eyes turn empty towards the log room, but she continues breathing - the inly incidation that something more serious isn't at play. Either the cold or loss of blood or a combination there-of is turning her pale as well.

Lex is gone a while, rifling, searching, generally sacking the Lodge like a pro. She picks up a couple thermal blankets, a tshirt, a snow globe, some candies to amuse the folks at home, and a basket of sundry crap to ply the other survivors with. With no textbooks to occupy her time, she snags a couple things to read, shoves them in her pack, pausing briefly on one. Silence from the gift shop upstairs.

<Trait Roll> Lex rolls Awareness and achieves a degree of Mediocre (2).

Lex takes Tick Festival History Book.

Gleason finishes up, doing the best he can with what he has. A blanket is pulled over the sitting pilot also and he packages things up. No lights, the place is getting dark as hell and so he flicks on his flashlight for now. Rising up, he makes his way to the attached restaurant. "I'll see what I can find."

"Good enough. Ta," Micah grunts at the marine once his flight suit's been peeled away and the soggy bandaging changed and pinned in place. The wound in his chest looks considerably more serious than the one in his abdomen, but with the amount of blood he's losing and the fact that he's still conscious, it's unlikely to have hit any major arteries. Tugging his flight suit back up with trembling fingers and chattering teeth, the pilot glances crosswise to his wingman briefly and then fetches one of the blankets. He'll at least concede to that much. "See if you can find a portable radiator, anything that'll keep us warm," he tells Nately. "And water," is called after Gleason. The cessation of sound upstairs has him looking up for a moment, but not worrying. Yet.

The blonde just lays still, staring at the log roofing in the dark. She blinks every once in a while, fingers rewrapping on the sidearm.

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual this is Fortune one. Took heavy fire, casualties, down. Request SAR. Zone no longer appears hot. Awaiting orders in Sector G. Over."

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Good to hear, sir. Request multiple medical. Over."

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Three dead, two badly wounded. Over."

Micah settles down and simply waits, for the time being, while the marines have fanned out to take care of things. He admits finally, in a slightly roughened and lowered voice to Novella, "Ah'm sorry." Just that.

Lex almost, but does not quite, drop a snow globe when the quiet portable wirelo she recovered crackles to life with the Major's voice. She calmly sets down the globe, turns up the volume, and replies to his request for report. "Actual this is Fortune one. Took heavy fire, casualties, down. Request SAR. Zone no longer appears hot. Awaiting orders in Sector G. Over." There's a Copy and a 'preparing for SAR'. Lex stows the snow globe, and drags her gear. "Three dead, two badly wounded. Over." Chatter, chatter. She heads back down the steps still on the call.

Gleason is coming back from the restaurant with a box full of stuff. Seems he raided the place also. "Real coffee, they grind this stuff here. Plus some whiskey and.." he pauses as he hears some of the call. "Quick, good enough, I didn't want to hang here much longer. We've probably woke more cylons up."

Novella idly listens to the radio chatter in the background as she stares at.. nothing. When Micah sits down, she still doesn't look from a point above her. "I'm sorry too, Micah." Pause for a breath. "Shoulda hit 'em faster." Her voice is just as quiet as his own. She turns and looks to him, the Ensign managing a smile finally. "No matter what happens, its okay. Just get everyone home."

Micah lifts his head when Gleason returns, definitely looking more than a little pale at the moment. His breathing sounds a bit wheezy, too. "You did fine," he murmurs to Novella, while taking visual stock of what the marine's brought back. Whatever reply he might have offered is stalled as he hears some of that wireless call from Lex's direction. He watches, and waits expectantly, but doesn't disturb her.

Lex takes a seat with the wireless as she waits for a reply to her last transmission. The blonde's rifle remains over her shoulder, pack securely fitted as well. Waiting, watchful.

Gleason sets his box down, and keeps the flashlight handy. "They have a basement here too. Not sure what for, but I didn't go down there. I'd guess storage."

"Did as well as you," Novella sighs before coughing a bit more. She groans and lolls her head back to look at the ceiling. Her right hand seeks out his own to clap around his palm. Her left is still holding the sidearm in a deathgrip. Eyes close. "Check the basement, Corpsman." He may not be a medic, but she's too drugged to know otherwise.

Turning his gaze away from Lex, Micah nods briefly to Gleason in corroboration of Novella's order. It was likely going to be the next thing out of his mouth, anyway. With any luck, Nately might be returning with a portable heater, so they should be set up to be relatively comfortable, all things considered. "Let's make sure there in't nothin' hiding down there," he mutters, glancing down when Novella clasps his hand. "Frien' or foe." He gives her a brief squeeze, and then resumes waiting for Lex's call to finish.

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, Fortune One. Acknowledged. Out."

Over the wireless comes: "Pandora Actual" Desusa says, "Fortune one, be advice the a MEDEVAC is inbound. ETA 10 min." Lex's reply is short and sweet, before she swings the wirelo to her hip. "Actual, Fortune One. Acknowledged. Out." She tips forward and says, "Hang in there, sirs."

Gleason sets the box down and starts to move back with his flashlight toward the basement area off the restaurant.

"Frakkin-A, Micah," Novella sighs approvingly. As the radio finishes its crackling, her eyes open. She does her best to look towards Lex. "Still angry, Marine." The blond does her best to shift to sit-up, but its a clumsy move and she'll need help to get anyplace, sliding back down into her previous position.

"The major?" Micah asks, as soon as Lex is off the wireless. He turns away to cough noisily, bringing up more blood. Nope, that's not particularly good. It's wiped off with his sleeve, hand tugged away from Novella like he's suddenly remembered he doesn't like being touched.

Pvt Lex nods sharply. "He initiated a wellness check, and it looks like we'll be out of here—in three to five." Moments pass, and the wireless croaks to life again. "Pandora Actual" Desusa says, "Fortune one, we are overhead. Cleared for green smoke." She rises.

Novella's hand opens and closes as he pulls away. The touch is missed. Her arm falls to the floor beside her, the woman's strength sapped for now. The radio crackles and she does her best to keep her eyes open. But its cold. And its been a long day.

The private nods to the others, and heads for the door. "Prep for hauling it." She pulls out flare and jogs into the snow, kicking the door shut behind her. It's lobbed to raise the signal smoke for the calvary. Yes, minions, saaaave us.

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, Fortune One. Wilco."

Nately comes back from where he was sent, carrying a small space heater that has a backup battery power source. "Windows and doors are bloc—" but he trails off when he hears the wireless. Glancing at the heater, he shrugs one shoulder and heads over towards Novella, setting it up for her for the remaining few minutes.

The space heater? IS SHAPED LIKE A TICK.

Micah begins hauling himself to his feet in the meantime, while Lex handles the flagging down of the raptor. "May as well bring what we can that's small enough to pack away-" He nods toward the coffee and booze that Gleason's got, and eyes that space heater for a moment as well. To Nately, "C'mon, help me with Novella. Let's get ready to move out."

"Help me up or find something to carry me on," she manages weakly. She shifts hands with the sidearm and grips her side with the left hand. Novella slowly sits up, taking her time doing it this time. Her head lolls to each side. Woozey. "Frak me," she sighs, trying to focus on the floor.

Bless that green smoke. The sounds of a Raider roaring in is lovely to the ears. The bullets hitting the ground outside and rightup onto the porch as it banks away.

Nately keeps the heater on for the duration of their wait, then clicks it off when he hears the Raptor overhead. He leaves the stuff to other people to pack away, and helps Micah with Novella. "Here, put your arms around our shoulders. We should be able to carry you pretty quickly like that," he suggests.

Lex unceremoniously launches herself into a bank of snow. Ohgods. Hail of bullets. That's so cheating. It doesn't seem fair when the enemy has air support.

Wait, that's not a Raptor. After clicking off the heater, Nately hears the gunfire and scowls, taking cover and reaching for his rifle.

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, Fortune One. Zone is hot. One confirmed bandit. Please advise."

No. No, that's definitely not a good sound. Hopefully Lex's 'early warning system' includes a few strategically placed mines, though Micah isn't going to bet on it. "Private Nately, get her downstairs, where there's cover," he asides sharply to Nately, shooting Novella a stern look. Behave! If there's a rifle laying about, he fetches it; if not, his sidearm will have to do. "Gleason, with me." Which, apparently, means edging toward the door to see what's up precisely outside.

The sounds of missile firing in the distance is all they can hear now. Some hit buildings, some light the night up with a few fires. Some also make good on that Raptor as it tries to dodge and weave out of the way.

EVERY MAN FOR HIMS— Oh. Nately casts a glance towards Micah and nods, edging back to Novella. "C'mon," he says helpfully, pulling one of her arms around his shoulders. He makes sure to avoid touching her left side, though a little graze here and there is inevitable. "Can you walk with my support?" he asks, hastily.

"Don't you frakking move me into a basement," Novelly sighs. She taps the pistol against her stomach. "Still here. Can still shoot." But Nately is taking her arm. "I.. ain't walking anywhere." Cough! "..except outside! Leamme here. That's an order!" She's still woozey, but her eyes hold daggers for Micah. "Go knock tha-" Hack hack cough cough. "Knock the frakker down!"

"You get the frak out of here, or so help me, I will finish you off and then drag your sorry carcass down there, Ensign," Micah growls back, with a significant look to Nately that's a mingling of 'don't let her strongarm you' and 'sorry for giving you the shitty job, man'. He, meanwhile, is in no rush to bound out the door; he's trying to get a visual on Lex at the moment, to make certain she's still alive out there. "Think you can make it to her?" he asks Gleason.

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, Fortune One. Say again all after Hold."

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, Fortune one. What is your position, over."

Nately catches that look Micah gives him, and nods firmly. That's all he needs to keep edging Novella towards the basement door, keeping her arm around his shoulder with a grip on her wrist. "C'mon," the teenager repeats insistently. "I know you can shoot, but you're not gonna be able to dodge any bullets. And martyrs are way overrated." More tugging ensues.

"Hide me.. in a frakkin.. basement?!" Novella isn't in much position to argue. Shes not getting any strength back. Get her down the stairs and people might only be carrying her back up at this rate. Nately hefts her with her gunhand around his neck and the other clutching her side. The blond is a wreck and moving her feet is kinda-like walking on ice.

Lex hauls ass back to the Lodge door once the strafing has passed. She grabs the frame, kicks the door out of the way and calls, "Our SAR just went down. Dig in." She pulls the door shut behind her and waits for the wireless to crackle.

Micah steps back when Lex kicks her way back in, and releases a somewhat shaky breath. Don't let them know you've never, in your life, been in a situation like this. Don't make it clear you're scared shitless. "Aye." His sidearm's lowered, and he nods to Gleason to finish packing up their supplies. "Frak it. The guns on that beast were still good, if I'd had time to salvage them.." But, he didn't. "Let's move downstairs."

"Look, you've started a trend," Nate states cheekily to Novella, despite the alarm in his eyes at the news. Then, "Can I get some help getting her down the stairs?" is called over his shoulder.

Lex remains in a position by the door with an eye toward the situation outside. "Frak yeah! Someone's playing rocket tag with the raiders." Lex glances over. "I suggest I stay topside to keep an eye on the action, sir. If you hear me shooting, you know trouble's on the way." Her eyes turn to Micah. She seems to have some idea he's new at this. But she's a marine. She doesn't say it.

Sounds of footsteps outside as people are running. As soon as they get to the stopsign, they setup again. Rocket launcher over the shoulder of one man as a woman loads. "Lock and Load!" Then she turns away as the rocket goes firing again. BOOOM! The second raider begins spinning and tries to head kamikaze right into the lodge, only it doesn't make it and slams into the highway and mountain, exploding on contact.

"Frak you, people.." Novella sighs. "We all go. Or nobody. My orders.. are.. we hold here.. Upstairs." She looks at Micah, trying to focus on him. "Under. Frakking. Stand.. me?" Each words comes with a breath. "Put me down." These words tumble out of her mouth. She's not looking so hot.

Micah hesitates a moment, then nods briskly to Lex. This isn't the time to deliberate over tactics, they don't exactly have a board room to work this out in. "Good suggestion. Gleason stays up here with you. Cav, shut the frak up, you are in no condition to be fighting. You can hit me later for it." Shuffling away to let the two marines take up watch, he moves to help Nately with Novella, in spite of her protests. There's only so fiesty she can be in her current condition after all.

Nately stands there dumbly, just waiting for Micah to come assist him. The look he gives Novella, with his head so close to hers, is infinitely apologetic. Once Micah's arrived, the young man gratefully helps shift some of the weight onto the Ensign, then he starts heading towards the basement stairs.

Lex turns to the door, peering out at the sight of flying rockets. "We've got company. It looks like… civilians. What the—" The marine peers. "With rockets. Taking out the raiders. Two down."

Novella is doing her best to protest, trying hard to focus on Micah. "They're out-frak.. frakkin outside!" Heaving breath. The start moving her towards the basement and she looks to Micah. "Please.. don't let me.. die in a basement. Please, Micah.." Nope, she's not walking anymore. "Pputmedown."

The couple, turn now to see those in the building. A wild grin on both their faces. They are packed for bear, that's for sure. "Never understimate the power of having a hard-on for a weapon." The begin heading up on the porch. "Two for us," and they hi-five each other. (picture those two from Tremors)

Micah ignores Novella's complaints, and merely instructs Nately, evenly, to lift her up so that her heart's level with the site of the bleeding. As well as can be done, at least, until they can get her down the stairs and onto something horizontal. Civilians? He isn't going to complain if someone else is doing their fighting for them. "Is our search party still out there?" he calls back.

The sidearm clatters to the floor from Nov's hand as someone tries to lift her whole body up at that awkward angle. And it hurts like hell, despite the morpha. Eyes close and out she goes.

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, Fortune One. Are you out there? Please advise. Over."

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, Fortune one. Perimeter with demo charges active. Tread carefully. Over."

"If you keep jiggling her around and upsetting her, her heart rate will increase and she'll bleed out faster," Lex offers helpfully, from her position by the door. She speaks into the wirelo, "Actual, Fortune One. Are you out there? Please advise. Over." A pause. "Actual, Fortune one. Perimeter with demo charges active. Tread carefully. Over." No reply yet.

The wirelo finally crackles, "Pandora Actual" Desusa says, "Fortune one, Actual. We are down but not out. We are quick-stepping it your way. Coming in from the south."

Pain at least lets you know you're alive, though. And so long as Novella's conscious and breathing, Micah isn't going to have to start flipping out. "Just set 'er down here," he mutters to the marine, indicating the floor by the stairs, where they're relatively sheltered from any stray shots that might come through a window.

[Into the Wireless] Lex says, "Actual, be advised there are what appear to be friendlies in the area with surface to air ordinance. Demo charges on the ground. Watch your step as you approach our position. Over."

The two civilians are now over in one area, checking their ammo and refilling where needed. "Frak, Harry, you sure know how to show a girl a good time." The man grins, "Love ya, baby. No one's takin' me out without a fight."

Lex says into the wirelo, "Actual, be advised there are what appear to be friendlies in the area with surface to air ordinance. Demo charges on the ground. Watch your step as you approach our position. Over." She remains with rifle over her shoulder operating the wireless. Chatter chatter.

Gleason is finally moving about now. "All clear on the basement, it's just storage. We can set up something down there though, a battery lantern is on."

Micah remains hunkered down on the floor with Novella and Nately, trying to make the woman as comfortable as he possibly can. A blanket's tucked under her head to keep her from choking on any blood, and she's otherwise kept warm and the bleeding checked now and then. Every so often he jerks his head in the direction of Lex and Gleason, though he can't properly see them from this vantage point; and he is losing blood, too. He slumps against the counter, letting his eyes drift shut for a few moments.

Micah also calls back to Gleason, "Good, but let's wait it out here for now. Have you heard anything more from them, Lex?"

Lex peers out the door, then pulls it open. "Friendlies." And out she goes. "I'll get a sitrep. Hopefully they have a stretcher and a surgeon."

Lex leaves for Park Avenue East [O].

Craven comes in from Park Avenue East.

Inside, there are two civilians over in the main lodge refilling their ammo and chatting amiable. They are having fun, despite the destruction. Keeping spirits up with coffee and eating sandwiches.

Private Gleason is making everyone as comfortable as possible, since the pilots are now bleeding like stuck pigs. His first aid didnt' last long, morpha either it seems.

Micah is seated on the floor, around behind the main section of the lodge and leading into the restaurant, along with Novella and Nately — who is standing guard over the two pilots, roughly speaking. They look like they've collectively been through hell and back.

Lex comes in from Park Avenue East.

The door is opened and Craven's making his way into view. There's a large medical bag tossed over his right shoulder, a satchel over his left and a small kit on his waist. Casting a quick glance around, he begins to move further within, "Alright. What do we have." The question is to anyone capable of answering, it would seem.

Skip comes in from Park Avenue East.

Gleason answers, "Female pilot is shot in the side, chest and left leg. Male pilot in the chest, both bleeding again. I did what I could, doc. But I'm no medic."

Rycard comes in from Park Avenue East.

Novella is sprawled on her back on the floor in the kitchen. The lowest holes in her flightsuit are leaking blood into a small pool beneath her. There's a towel under her head and she is unconscious, barely breathing. A clean bullet hole is poked right through the right side of her flightsuit and into her side. Another looks like a nasty angled shot that starts high on her right breast and punches into her shoulder. Her left leg also took a hit clean through the calf. Someone with a decent awareness roll might notice the small amount of blood in the chuncks of blonde hair behind her head.

Micah unholsters his sidearm and shuffles into a crouch when he hears voices and footsteps, then lowers the weapon when he recognises the former. "Doc, thank the gods. Over here, Cav's the worst off, the rest of us are holdin' on best we can." He stumbles to his feet and moves slowly into full view. And he's in a pretty sorry state, too, with a wound in his abdomen and another in his chest. That second one might have grazed a lung, by the sound and quantity of his coughing.

Skip steps inside as well, looking around for a few moments, trying to see who's still here and more or less healthy. "What's our status here, folks?" he asks. Glancing to the door again.

Turning his attentiont owards Gleason, Craven gives a nod of his head, "Alright, Private." That's all that's offered, for Craven is making his way towards the injured pilots. The bag is shrugged from his shoulder and when he lifts his left hand to open his satchel to extract a pair of gloves, he's visibly winching in pain, the hand shaking ever so slightly. Beginning to slip on the gloves, he shifts his attention towards Micah and gives a slight nod of his head, "Sit down, Ensign. That's an order." From there, eyes begin to play over first Novella and Micah as he's withdrawing two needles from his pouch.

Elsewhere in the little lodge, the couch is covered in blood. The trail from there leads to the basements stairs then over to Novella. A loaded sidearm.. presumably from Nov (judging by the empty thigh holster).. is lain by the stairs to the basement.

Rycard comes in not long after Skip, supported by Desusa ( not IC atm ). The Major helps the young ensign over to a wall where he is placed to sit. Rycard takes a moment to catch his breath, placing his hand across the cut on his forehead in an attempt to stop the bleeding. His other hand is held against his stiff neck, still soar after the crash. "Frak me" he sighs, his breaths slow and deep.

Lex does her thing playing guard duty. Though she was in the firefight, she has sustained very little visible damage. Nevermind a tiny, tiny trickle of blood. No one's noticed it yet, no one's likely to unless she speaks up. It's only a flesh wound!

For now, everyone is ignored as Craven moves first to Novella, beginning a pre-eval of her condition and a mental notation of wounds. From there, it's over to Micah and the same procedure is conducted. For the moment, neither is given a shot.

<Trait Roll> Craven rolls Medicine and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

<Trait Roll> Craven rolls Medicine and achieves a degree of Good (4).

Skip steps over to somewhere near Lex now, letting the doc work his magic for those wounded. "What happened?" he asks, quietly.

Everyone has some scrape or the other. Private Gleason is following orders on keeping people warm. When he sees the other pilot bleeding from a head wound, he begins to move over to see if he can help with that atleast. Hearing Skip, he looks over, "Cylons, Staff." As if that wasn't obvious.

"We engaged a group of centurions, Staff, and they blew us out of the sky. We retreated to this lodge, and have been holding out here for the past.. hour or so." He grits his teeth, holding still for a moment as Craven does his preliminary checks.

Rtcard remains where he was left, on the floor with back up against the wall. Hand against the cut on his brow and hand rubbing his stiffening neck. Eyes closed, he breathes slowly and calm, trying to cope with the intense pain in his skull and shoulders after the not so pretty landing in the middle of town.

Lex looks to Skip. "We encountered a ground patrol and opened fire. The big clunky stealth monster bird strafed as we jumped to provide ground fire." She doesn't like ships. "We lost three marines, and the bird went down. We crushed eight hostiles and have been here since."

Skip nods as he hears those reports. "Those scouts are out there trying to look for a better spot," he replies quietly. "We stay here for now, waiting to hear back from them." He steps back a little, looking around the room for a few moments. "Anything else that might prove important?"

The two civilians are in the main area of the lodge. Not using the blood covered couch to rest on, they push it up against the broken windows. Rita and Harry are setting up for anything. They've got weapons on the floor, ready to be used, if the Cylons return.

Gleason kneels by the pilot as Major Desusa begins checking the place over and leaving the others to handle their jobs. If the pilots helmet isn't off, Gleason helps remove it and starts cleaning the blood off the gash. "Got something for that pain, but a head wound shouldn't be drugged. Sorry sir."

Craven's having a bad day, for his initial checks reveal no additional injuries. Moving away from Micah, he's shifting back over towards Novella, though he looks towards the smallish group of marines that's currently gathered. Setting a needle down on the floor, he motions to it, "Someone give that the other Ensign. In the shoulder. Just below the bone." He's then turning towards Novella and he's putting actions to his words as he gives her another shot of Morpha, ensuring that she's effectively stoned. Then, he's withdrawing a variety of things from his bag, including a pair of scissors, scalpel, thread and a needle. From there, he sets to work, cutting away the clothing from the wounds, inspecting and beginning to treat them, starting with removing those bullets that can be easily extracted so that the wounds can be closed.

Lex shakes her head slightly. "Area was clear until the smoke billowed, then raiders were on our ass in 2 flat." She jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "Other'n that, there's a gift shop. There's a lot of tick themed shit back there."

<Trait Roll> Craven rolls Medicine and achieves a degree of Fair (3).

<Trait Roll> Craven rolls Medicine and achieves a degree of Poor (1).

"Jus' don't let 'er die," Micah mumbles from nearby, before starting on another unpleasant-sounding coughing fit that can't be good for that chest wound. Nodding weakly to Lex's commentary, he adds for Skip's benefit, "We've secured the building, found a space heater and some blankets and a bit of food, if we need t'stay here a little while longer."

Rycard doesnt say anything. He just sits where he is, head slightly slumped and eyes looking out from underneath the brows, silently observing the people around him. Tired, exhausted, yet calm, he just sits there, blood covering his face.

And so, Craven simply sets to the task of trying to repair and stabilize the damage done to Novella. From the looks of things, it's not going as well as he'd hoped. His left hand visibly shakes and he occassionally winces as a sheen of sweat begins to form on his brow. But still, he continues on with the task, eventually grabbing several sterile bandages and once the packages are opened, he's beginning to cover her wounds.

"In case you didn't catch it over the wireless, there's a perimeter set. Charges. Don't go ambling around to piss on a random bush. It could be your last." Lex, helpful.

Micah watches the 'repair' being done from beneath slitted eyes that keep wanting to close. There isn't a peep from him though, not a single complaint. His wingman gets fixed first, period; he'd probably insist upon it, even if it was he that was in rougher shape. His hand rests upon his sidearm, bloodied as the grip likely is by this point. And he waits, and tries not to pass out.

"Thanks, Private. That's really helpful," Skip remarks a bit lightly, before he nods a bit at the others. "Good." Going silent again now.

Patch. Patch. Patch. That's what Craven is doing at the moment as he tries to prevent Novella from bleeding on. There's a muttered 'Frak' and a shake of the Doctor's head before he lifts a hand, dabbing at his forehead with the back of it before returning to cover the wounds with the bandages and securing them in place with tape. "Alright. She's as stable as I can make her, here. I need to get her back to an actual facility."

Cleaned up somewhat, Rycard rubs his face to try and rid himself of the worst fatigue. Letting out a heavy sigh, he takes a look around the room, squinting a bit from the ache in his head and neck. "Any chance of making contact with the bunker?" he asks, if anyone has an answer.

Getting patched is hard work. All that lying there. And while she may not feel any pain, it doesn't mean that nerves are dead. Her eyes open a touch and she looks up at Craven. Tired. Stoned. She doesn't say a word. Her eyes study Craven's face as if trying to place him. She then looks towards Micah, the same deluded wonder and bloodied exhaustian.

Novella's done to the best of Craven's ability at the moment. Which .. doesn't seem to be that much. He's stabilized her, but that's not saying a lot. He's then moving over towards the other pilot and for once, the Doctor actually looks strained. He's giving a nod to the man, followed by one of those 'masked' smiles that are given to patients, "Alright, Ensign. Gonna set about getting you patched up. Need you to lay back and get settled. Morpha should kick in and you won't feel a thing."

"They got in contact with us, when we were back there, didn't they?" Skip offers to Rycard, nodding a little bit. "But no matter what, as long as there's life, there's hope, as my grandfather always said."

Novella's glance is returned with a long look from her fellow viper jock. And a singular nod, whatever that means. "Aye, sir," he murmurs to Craven, a good deal more compliant now that Novella's taken care of to the best of the doctor's ability. Letting himself slide away from the wall and to the floor, there's a telltale bloodstain left in the wake of his motion; one of those bullets, at least, either exited or came from behind him.

When you're this stoned, you just don't care that your clothing is cut away or that the pool of blood you're laying in is cold. Nor do you really care whats going on. People are shuffling around. That bleeding guy on the wall.. kinda firmiliar.. he just gets stared at. She tries to move her fingers, but nothing really wants to work at the moment. And that's cool, too. She blinks a few times and tries a voice. "Kitchen." Yep, that's where she is. But its barely audible.

"Yeah, right" Rycard says as Skip reminds the ensign on how they ended up here in the first place. Leaning back, he rests his head against the wall where he sits, slumped on the floor.

And so, Craven begins to set about treating Micah in much the same fashion as Novella. Without the use of equipment from the Pandora or Genesis' Sick bay, he's limited in what he can do, and so the treatment centers around simply stopping the bleeding, preventing shock and stopping possible infection. Wounds are cleaned and then bandaged carefully, before the bandages are sealed in place by tape and as he finally draws to a close on Micah, the Doctor gives another shake of his head before slumping to one side.

Maybe it's the morpha, the blood loss, or maybe it's just the strain of this whole blasted evening. But Micah's no longer in charge of anything with reinforcements here, and his eyes shutter as he drifts off for a little while. Ah, that bunk back home is sounding mighty comfy about now.

The blonde laying on the ground lolls her head to the side and looks to Craven. Those eyes, wrought with confusion suddenly find a small glimmer. She can't quite smile, but her mouth parts slightly. "El-Tee," she whispers. Relief begins at the edges but manages to take a hold of her expression. "Thanks." Her eyes close for a few seconds in a drawn-out blink, as if testing the waters on how that feels as well. When they open, they gesture to Micah, an open question for the man.

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