| Give No Quarter - Raptor |
| Summary: | Raptor Recon finds something unusual |
| Date: | 52 ACH |
| Related Logs: | Give No Quarter - Engineering |
| Players: |
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Hangar Bay B (#1110RXaFJ) Genesis - Deck 7
51 ACH 6285 Souls
The hangar deck is where the Genesis' Viper squadron, and its Raptor detachment are stored, repaired and maintained between missions. Ships land on the flight deck, one level above, and are brought down via massive elevators. Tow vehicles move the ships around the deck, their shrill alert beeps causing an almost constant cacophony of noise. The floor itself is a light gray in color, but wear and tear has left marks and scratches everywhere. Numbered sections are marked off with paint to house the various spacecraft.
The place is surprisingly tidy, with tool chests, machine parts, diagnostic equipment, and even the occasional spare engine or chassis scattered all in their appropriate place. Stairs lead up to other parts of the ship. The fourth side has a large sliding door leading to the flight deck elevators. On the port wall, Vipers are loaded into the launch tubes to be catapulted into space. Raptors take off from the flight deck.
----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-
Contents: IC_Builder Jax Charon_840 Cornbread_1623 Fender_211
FireEater_702 Maintenance Control Nemamiah_109
NewDawn_1744 RAPTOR_214 RAPTOR_215 Refugee_1123 Skunk_772
Sula_337 Tempo_1741 VIPER_1742 VIPER_210 Whiteboard
Wireless 1118 Wrongway_101
Exits: [AS] Aft Stairwell [FS] Fore Stairwell
[A] Hangar Bay A [E] Land. Deck Elevator
[LT] Launch Tubes [SH] Shuttle Transfer
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Micah comes in from Fore Stairwell.
Micah has arrived.
Jocasta comes in from Aft Stairwell.
Jocasta has arrived.
There's a Raptor prepped for long range recon sitting in the launch cradle, waiting. Crews move around it, last minute checks going on. people moving around it, making sure the preflight instruments are green and the bird's ready for flight.
Grunt. Haul. Jax pauses in the middle of this progression, wiping off his forehead with the arm of his orange coveralls. Its good sweat, honest sweat, that leaves the hair on his forehead smattered close to the skin. Seems they're sorting through their stores of scrap metal, to see what's workable. A whistle catches his attention, and he's moving over to undo the fueling couplings to the readied Raptor.
One of those people in the midst of preflight preparations is Jocasta. She's just coming out of the belly of the bird in the flightsuit sans helmet, checklist in hand, having finished her preliminary instrument inspection.
Freshly showered and flight suited, in what was probably a last minute change of duty assignments, Micah comes clomping down the stairs a little late. A quick sweep of the bay easily finds the bird he's meant to be piloting, and he swivels to start off swiftly in that direction. Jax is addressed with a brisk 'Specialist' as he passes, helmet collected from a lurking petty officer as well as a ledger that needs signing off.
Addie has arrived.
Jax gives a nod to Ensign St. Germain, his fingers working the coupling deftly despite the gloves he wears. The mechanism is stowed properly and he gives his verbal thumbs up on the fuel systems, before stretching away from this last job with a hand on his mid back.
Addie walks into the Hangar in her flight suit. She tugs on her loves and wanders on in. And she heads over toward the pre-flight raptor, boots ominously heavy on the deck. Ohnoes.
"That it?" Jocasta asks, stepping down off of the wing and onto the deck proper, squaring herself so that she's nearly shoulder to shoulder with Jax. He's the one she's talking to, after all.
Micah shoves the ledger back at the petty officer, helmet tucked under his arm for the time being as he pulls away and nears the raptor. "Maru," is offered in terse greeting for the ECO, even as he's beginning his circuit of the bird. A cursory visual inspection, which is disrupted by the Addie's approach. Frak. "Captain." It's paired with a quick salute.
Jax gives a curt nod to Jocasta. "All set for the tube, Sir. Just let me grab my gear and finish suiting up. You're stuck with me on this round about." And with that, and without waiting to further hold up the production, he's trotting off to grab switch to a proper suit and helmet for this shindig.
Addie returns the salute as she continues forward to hop up onto the wing of the raptor. "Prepared to launch?" She accepts her flight helmet a Crewman on the deck. "I'm riding shotgun. Let's do it when you're ready." With that she ducks into the craft and finds a comfy seat.
For all appearances Micah's just another pilot pulling double-duty so far as Jocasta's concerned. She acknowledges in only so much as it's required to do her job and, at the moment, that's a startlingly small amount. It's the Captain's arrival and nonchalant insertion into the co-pilot's seat that momentarily makes her brows twitch, even if she says nothing but, "Yes, sir." in response. She hauls up into the Raptor, helmet in hand, and waits for Jax to join them before beginning any pre-launch protocols.
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RAPTOR_214 (#214TWeM^) Genesis - Hangar Bay B
51 BCH 6285 Souls
The forward section contains the flight deck, with side-by-side seats for the pilot and ECO (who occupies the rear section of the vehicle during normal operations). This opens into the main body which contains bulkhead-mounted racks of electronics equipment and sensors. A large canopy provides good forward and side visibility for the crew if any, which is no doubt of considerable benefit during atmospheric flight.
[From outside the ship:]
Jax is trotting back, still in process of zipping his gear up propperly, but he's not one to hold up the show.
[From outside the ship:]
Frak and more frak. Maybe Micah can accidentally strangle himself on some cabling, and have an excuse to miss the mission. Watching as Addie climbs into the ship, he grinds his jaw slightly from left to right, and then clambers in shortly after. Once inside, he settles into the pilot's seat and tugs on his helmet, focus shifting to the task at hand.
If Addie's feeling the love, it's not apparent. She straps herself in to the co-pilot chair, checks the restraint once, pulls on her helmet and tests the comms quietly. She makes no orders. It's like she isn't even there. Except she is there. Quietly. Physically. Present.
Jax slips in last, reaching out to guide the door on its hydraulics as it hisses back into place. He takes his place in a jump seat, strapping in at the very rear of the Raptor, awaiting for the pilot to do last checks and commence take off.
All systems check perfect, Bird's a green and ready for her date tonight.
And takin' up the comfy seat. Jocasta seals her helmet on and begins the official pre-launch checks from her station, calling out the requisite "Check" or "Green" or whatever the proper affirmative response is for everything seeming to behave as it should. She slips a little look over to Jax, which comes complete with a full upper body turn, since that's how sly you can be while wearing a flight helmet. Aw, lookit. She's smiling at him. That's probably supposed to be reassuring. "I'm Jammer," she says.
Micah reaches up above his head, flicking a few switches: electronics, master avionics, nav light checked with a quick flash that illuminates the hangar bay in front of them. Waiting for the comm check from his co-pilot, and the ECM verifications from Jocasta, he straps himself in securely. It's got to make a guy nervous, to have his boss looming over his shoulder like that. Then the green light's given, and the bird is guided up and off the flight deck with quick bursts of the maneuvering thrusters.
Addie's eyes remain on the viewport. She watches the lift of the bird, though it's not apparent from her body language or expression what she thinks of it. Maybe she's writing a memoir in her head. Tales of a Cranky Captain. Or is that Captain Crankypants? Work in progress.
Jax slaps at the faceplate of his helmet, as if making sure its aligned correctly. "'m Jackson, Sir. Though most just call me Jax." Introductions made, his eyes divert off Jocasta, flicking to the electronics and sensor racks making sure everything is green from his positioning too through take off, though her smile is infectious and there's one spreading on his features. Mile wide, as a matter of fact. His boots shift on the deckplating, his heels tapping on the metal and his head starting to bob as if he's rocking out to a tune in his head.
Once the flight deck is cleared, Micah guides the raptor out beyond range of the battlestar and its small fleet, with careful manipulation of the main and port thrusters. If he's nervous, he shows no sign of it. "Jump check. Start four niner carom one five, stop one three two carom one four. On your mark." Coordinates given, he waits for the ECO to count down. His attention, too, seems to be on the viewport as he takes them into position.
Heh. Jammer. Jax. Jailhouse. Fender. One of these things is not like the others. With the appropriate introductions made, Jocasta spools up the FTL drive and begins to calculate the first jump. "Let's see if we can go find up something to burn," she says to no one in particular. "Prepare to jump in four… three… two…"
The pilots really do all the work, Jax's just here to sit around and look pretty. On the off chance something goes wrong, maybe he can whip out something from the handy dandy tool compartment. Until then, he just continues to rock out, a word or two of the song slipping out and becoming verbalized. The general jist of the song seems to included a 'street' 'night time' and 'booze'.
FLASH! The Raptor viewscreens change suddenly as the ship instantly transits lightyears away. As the Hyperlight effect vanishes, a huge white planet is in clear sight. A fast atmosphere seems to encompass the planet. Nearby is an asteroid belt hovering in the night as the distant star of this system casts a feeble light. Simple orders, check the belt for Tyllium. Nothing too complicated, right?
Even if the majority of Jammer's attention is preoccupied with making sure they've jumped to the right coordinates and making sure there aren't any bad guy beeps showing up on the DRADIS, she still somehow manages to miraculously multitask efficiently enough to inquire as to tagalong's taste in music. "Whatcha singin' over there, Jax?" Push button. Flip switch.
<Trait Roll> Jocasta rolls Comms and achieves a degree of Good (4).
To Jocasta 'Data stuff to babble out- Planet surface Ammonium Nitroxide, temp -50 C average, atmosphere Xenon based. Ice Planet. Asteroids, have to get in there and have a closer look. No Comms signals, No DRADIS contacts not not in the asteroid field. Asteroids are casting DRADIS shadows, so need to keep eyes open in there.'
The pilot cranes his neck a little as he takes stock of their environs. Undoubtedly both the planet and the star were mentioned in the mission briefing. "Jump complete," he confirms, and begins maneuvering the raptor in a shallow descent toward the white planet. "Jammer, do you have any atmospheric readings for us? What are we looking at here, in terms of possible landing sites?"
Jax's brown eyes shift once more to Jocasta, the beat in his boots not subduing, even as he answers her question. "My Baby Done Done Me. I'd serenade, but I'm afraid the Captain might throw things in my general direction, Sir." As Micah asks for a reading, Jax's eyes return to the read outs, making sure all the blinking lights are still blinking. The man has a screwdriver, and he's not afraid to use it.
"Not happening," Jammer says, presumably in response to Jailhouse. "It's all ice down there. Xenon-based atmosphere, we're looking at… fifty under on the average surface temperature. Might have better luck in the field but I'm getting a lot of shadows back here." Meaning DRADIS shadows. False signals. And we all know what that means. "Keep your eyes open." You, too, screwdriver guy.
Addie glances over, and says, "The Captain hasn't brought a thing to throw." She leans forward a bit in her seat to look out. "Chilly," she comments, after a moment of study, listening to Jammer reading off the specs.
Nodding slowly, Micah makes a quick course adjustment and starts a hard burn of the thrusters to take them away from the planet and toward the asteroid belt. "Sit tight. And watch that DRADIS-" Like she needed to be told, but it seems less of a command and more to keep them on the same page. "-and keep that FTL spooled in case we run into a bogey." Or several bogeys. The raptor begins a swift approach of that rock-strewn belt. He could probably stand to throttle it back a touch, but he's a viper jock. He likes cutting things a little sharper than most.
Jax's smile sits easy on his lips, and its given to the Captain as well, at her mention of the lack of projectiles. "My lucky day." He's leaning forward a bit in his seat, glancing at the readouts too, and then beyond into the cockpit to the spacescape that stretches out beyond them. Mmm. Soup. Jax's stomach rumbles breaking up the rhythm of his inner soundtrack.
<Trait Roll> Micah rolls Pilot_raptor and achieves a degree of Terrible (0).
Asteroids begin to loom into the viewports, approaching as the Raptor head to the asteroid field. Whee! Here they come! Where's the breaks? Oh, ah, somewhere. The asteroids start shooting past the Raptor as the full burn continues and they're surrounded by huge rocks, millions of kilotons of solid stone, and rocketing in, what could possibly go wrong?
WHAM! That.
A sudden lurch and a rock lands at Jax's feet, a hole neatly punched in the top of the Raptor. Wheee all part of the ride, folks!
Addie shoots a look at Micah, with a delicately arched brow. It's a lovely thing to prepare for a ride with a junior pilot only after you've checked all the seals on your suit. "Let's try not to use all our plugs on the first pass."
Ah, yes. Nothing seals a dangerous, oxygen-sucking hole in the roof of a Raptor quite so quickly as quippy banter — oh, and a decompression patch doodad (aka. plug). Somewhere in between digging for said doodad, a few choice words of profanity, and a hurried scuttling onto Jax and the jump seat in an attempt to reach the hole, Jocasta somehow manages not to freak the frak out or fling anything foot-shaped at the Viper jock's head in the process. Amazing!
Jax kicks the little asteroid nibblet out of the way, it'll make a dandy souvenir later. Maybe he can show it to some civillian chick, and claim it nearly cracked his skull in two, but through the blood and smell of burning flesh, he saved the day! Maybe it'll be good for a roll at the Pyr, at least. "I'm on it.." His voice crackles through the comm frequency that links all their helmets together, and he's rooting around to get a Plug patch from the emergency kit along with Jocasta, he knows where its kept, after all.
<Trait Roll> Jax rolls Damage_control and achieves a degree of Mediocre (2).
It'd be easy to get flustered when they're getting pelted — and breached — by rocks, and the Captain's probably writing up his demotion in between thunks. But Micah's able to keep his cool, and eases off on the forward thrusters while attempting to navigate a path through the dust and asteroid debris. "Aye, sir," he asides to Addie, and twists to look over his shoulder at his erstwhile 'passengers'. Yep, everyone's still in one piece, and Jo's probably reserving killing him, until after they're back on solid ground. The searchlight comes on with the flick of a switch, only really useful for illuminating everything within a few tens of metres. Now and then he checks the console for a blip that might indicate their quarry: the tyllium, of course.
<Trait Roll> Micah rolls Pilot_raptor and achieves a degree of Good (4).
Demotion? Honestly, he's already an Ensign. Not much lower to go. Besides, who wants to figure out a new callsign? Micah's practically bucking for 'Crashdown'. Please, don't crash down. Captain Nikos remains silent after her initial comment, though she does cast a weather eye at the belt after noting a scramble in the back to patch the breach. She doesn't look nervous, just watchful.
The Raptor slows and comes to a neat circuit of a huge asteroid. Jocasta and Jax, mostly Jax, get the hole plugged, a rough seal, but serviceable. In Jammers helmet, like a ghost as she is trying to help,
A woman's voice.. "..All of us.. only survived to…" Broken by static before it fades. Only in Jammers helmet as she was connected to the ECO scanners, as the screens on the ECO panels change, a window opening and text scrolling..
Hole? Plugged. Asteroids? Outside. (Except for the one.) Jammer? Seated. After a momentary moment of what might have almost evolved into panic, Jocasta resumes her seat at the countermeasures console and takes a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. Chalk it up to her inexperience in having anyone else besides passengers accompany her in the back of the bird. Her head suddenly turns, however, as she picks up the ghost transmission and she tunes in to what appears to be a mysterious message. "Sir, I'm getting somethi—" But, she stops mid-sentence as she reads.
To Jocasta 'Window reads, 'Comms signal. Datapacket encrypted 4 percent downloaded. Voice signal. Directional, tight band transmission. Signal lost. out of range.
Jax isn't really keen on sitting back down, his hand still on the plug as if expecting it to peel off any second. He's going to make sure its good and stuck before going anywhere. The words from Jammer, however, have him leaning in her direction, and now he's trying to read over her shoulder.
This time, Micah has considerably more success in dodging the hunks of rock that are skimming past them on all sides. It helps to slow to a crawl, of course, rather than a full bore scream like he's bearing down in a mark seven. "You're getting something?" he repeats, darting a glance to the console once more before twisting around to look at Jocasta. Elucidate, please, that look says clearly.
Addie's eyes remain on the field as Jailhouse pilots through. "Jammer? What have you got?"
Suddenly, Jammer erupts with an emphatic, "Go back! Go back!" And then, "Slowly…" She even tosses out an enthusiastic hand gesture, not that there's anyone but Jax who's likely to see it. "I'm picking up a transmission. Tight beam. We flew right through it. Sounds like…" She then lifts her head from the screen and finishes her sentence with one word that is almost certainly going to have a swell of soundtrack to accompany it: "…survivors."
While Jammer goes for the more interpretive meaning of the readout, Jax is repeating it more literally. "Voice signal. Directional, tight band transmission." Its more or less a confirmation of the more emotional and quotable version that Jo gives.
Survivors? "Frak me," Micah mutters after Jax's clarification, already beginning the maneuver to bring them around. If they were in a viper, and harnessed to their seats in a craft built for turning on a dime, he'd certainly be going about this differently. The close confines of the debris field aren't making life any easier for the trundlebug, but at least he warns his crew to 'hold on' as they swing about and double back slowly. "How's that DRADIS lookin'? We still no joy on contacts?"
As the Raptor returns on it's previous heading, Jammers helmet starts to static up again and resolve as the Comms window begins scrolling again.
To Jocasta - 'Voice: "..And all that we have. We're defenseless, and without FTL capability. (sob) Are we the last people?"
Comms data comes in. This is suspicious. The woman sounds like she's panicked and broadcasting a plea for help, but the signal is tightband, directional, jacketed, and on top of that contains a data encryption packet. Colonial, all the way, but there's more to this than it seems. the Data download is secure, but choppy, like the voice signal, it's broken up some from the distance the signals traveled. Someone's being crafty about this. No DRADIS signals that aren't asteroids, it seems.'
"Easy on the throttle, Jailhouse. Let's see what we've got." With that, the Captain sits back again, and leaves the driving to the Ensign. High ranking seat warmer here. "Nice job on the patch, Specialist."
Jax gives a nod of thanks to the Captain, his one hand still holding the patch as if he's not as confident in his work as she is. He's still concentrating on the readout screen though, reading over Jo. He swallows, the sound audible over the comm system.
Jocasta puts on her very best puzzled face — all knit brows and bit lips and wrinkled nose inside of her illuminated helmet — as she tries to suss out the situation while still keeping an eye on the radar. She flips a switch that allows for everyone else in the Raptor to hear what she's hearing. "…And all the we have. We're defenseless, and without FTL capability. (sob) Are we the last people?" It's enough to make Jammer shudder. She shoots a look up and over to the front of the ship after sharing a moment with Jax, shoulder to shoulder again. "What should we do, sir?" she asks front-seat Fender.
Micah flashes a quick look toward Addie, though his primary focus remains on keeping them in one piece, and honing in on that signal. "Aye, sir," is delivered through his helmet's comm. "Can you place the source of the signal, Jammer? Could be a mobile beacon, a buoy, whoever left it might even be long gone. Feel like we're flyin' in the dark, here." Another glance toward the Captain, as if to ensure she's in agreement about his 'suggestions'.
"Let's see if we can get a better idea of where that's coming from." Addie turns in her seat to glance back to Jammer. "Do you have any more information?"
Jax finally lowers his hand from that patch to lay a hand on Jammer's shoulder, the voices sending a chill through his form so maybe he's silently lending comfort to her, or seeping it from her with that touch. Survivors. Its enough to give anyone goosebumps. All ears are on the Captain now, awaiting the orders, not daring to do more than breathe in case something might be missed. Some blip on the screen, some indication as to the who and the where of what's out there.
"We've been adrift since a week after the attacks. We're at Nav 445 Carom 332 stop 664, carom 996, away from any system, off the shipping lanes."
You paged Jocasta with 'Data packet's almost finished, 72 percent complete.'
After checking and rechecking the readouts at her station, Jammer confirms, "Source is on a bearing in-line with the voice nav coordinates." Which means it's not bouncing off a buoy or a beacon — they've miraculously managed to tap in to a direct line. "It's Colonial confirmed, sir."
<Trait Roll> Addie rolls Awareness and achieves a degree of Poor (1).
<Trait Roll> Micah rolls Awareness and achieves a degree of Good (4).
Technically, Fender's presence on this mission is in a supervisory role. Micah's still the pilot, but it doesn't mean he won't defer properly to the Captain until told otherwise. "Orders, sir?" He cuts thrusters and keeps them steady, head swiveling a little to seek out Addie again. "It's Colonial, I think we should go after it. See what the situation is, return to the Genesis for reinforcements if necessary, an' have them send out another bird for the tyllium."
"We have a location. When we finish our readings here, we'll return to the Genesis and apprise." Captain Nikos doesn't seem to have the warm and fuzzies for possible survivors. "Have you finished your readings here, Jammer?"
"We've got no weapons, no way to defend ourselves. We're desperate, if anyone can hear this, please.."
On the ECO screens, the border of a window changes to green and the words, 'Download Complete' flash up. then 'Packet stored. Encryption secure. Integrity confirmed' Then the window closes.
Jax is frowning, but he doesn't object. Certainly they're in no position to help any potential survivors that don't have Jump capability, nor are they prepared to face any hostile civilians who might try to harm those that are just trying to help. He steps back from the screen, that easy smile gone and that twinkle in his eyes diluted.
Jocasta nods her acknowledgment to the Captain and, with the data download complete, she resumes her tyllium scanner sweep, putting in at least a token effort to doing what they actually came out here to do. Just in case they get lucky. Of course, she's ever-mindful of the DRADIS.
Micah looks for an instant like he might disagree. Just a moment. But there's a brisk nod after the Captain's made her decision and a slight set to his own jaw. Whatever's bothering Jax is probably bothering him, too. Keeping his eyes steady on the viewscreen, he speaks into the comm, "Let's get the FTL spun up, once you've got your readings. Ah'll bring us about, then prepare to jump to four zero carom two- FRAK." He shifts upright, jumping back to the controls. "Get that FTL up immediately, we've got company. Bogey playing hide and seek at one o'clock."
Addie leans in to have a look at the DRADIS console. "What's the count on our jump?" She glances out the viewport, and eyes the field.
<Trait Roll> Addie rolls Awareness and achieves a degree of Good (4).
Frak. Jumps. Jumps are not fun in a tiny little vessel when you're not prepared for them. Jax falls back heavily into his seat, scrambling for his harness not merely for the Jump, but for the fact that they've got company in the middle of an asteroid belt. Bumpy ride, anyone?
"Spooling!" No pressure. Jammer momentarily cranes her head to sneak a peek out the viewport and then goes back to her jump preparations. You can be damn sure that just as soon as the lights go green and all systems are go, she's calling the count. "Prepare to jump in four… three…" Hope everyone's wearing their seatbelts.
Yep, Micah's strapped down, and the same's briefly verified of his copilot. Luckily there won't be any need to deploy chaff, as Jocasta's got that jump ready in record time. -Blink- out they go; his gaze is fixed on the viewscreen until the very last instant.
Micah flies the ship to Grid Alpha.
FLASH! The asteroids vanish to be replaced with a distance view of the Fleet. Easy enough to fly back to them and catch up. Whew.
Addie's right hand twitches a little, gripping the side of her chair. Oh, viper guns, how she misses you right now! The Captain's eyes narrows a little as she spots a raider. Joy. "Frak me," she mutters under her breath once the fleet is in view again.
Jax breathes a little easier now that the are back with the good old Colonial Battlestar. "Well. That was fun." He says dryly over the airwaves, bending to pick up that fist side asteroid from where it is rattling around the deckplating.
Whew! That was close! With what's left of their own little rag-tag fleet now in view and popping up on DRADIS, Jocasta exhales heavily and sits back in her seat, head tilted up to inspect the state of the seal overhead. Still holding. Not bad. This earns Jax a jokingly delivered, "Congratulations. You've got a pet rock." Or, as the scientists might call it, a sample. However, this oddly reminds her of something else. "Sir, I was able to download an encrypted data packet from the transmission stream. Who should I deliver it to?"
Fender's not the only one who wishes she had a viper stick and a few 30mm gun cannons on hand right now. And Jax isn't the only one breathing a little easier once they return to the fleet. After closing his eyes briefly and reopening them again, he switches channels on the console and directs into the comm, "Genesis, Jailhouse, we are RTB, over." And then he's guiding the raptor back in with a tap of thrusters, while the ECO and Captain converse about that data packet.
"Jailhouse, Genesis, welcome home. Deck is cleared and you have landing clearance."
"Sit tight, Jammer. Side note, when your senior officer on mission asks for more information, incoming data counts." Fender releases the seat restraint. "Jailhouse, take us home. Rustle up the CAG on the wireless and request her presence on the Hanger Deck."
"Aye, sir." It doesn't take long for them to swoop into the shadow of the battlestar and touch down on the flight deck, buzzers already going off and deck crew assembling as the lift takes them down to the hangar bay. Micah's beginning to unstrap himself, switching channels again as he relays instructions over the wireless.
