Smash and Grab Briefing
Smash and Grab Briefing
Summary: The pilots get a mission briefing for the final return to the colonies.
Date: 66 ACH
Related Logs: None
Players:
Fotilas..Bayless..Jocasta..Kalypso..Novella..Orion..Sloane..Micah..Tychon..Warwick..Dynames..

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Ready Room Genesis - Deck 11
66 ACH 23817 Souls


The Ready Room is for pilots to get their assignments for the daily CAP. Rows of seating line six deep and back to the wall. At the front of the room there is a whiteboard, star maps and a podium for the CAG or Squadron Leaders to address the room. The flags of the colonies stand along the starboard wall as well as plaques of recognition. One plaque stands above those who have lost their lives and reads:
Captain Ide 'Screamer' Kolis
May he rest in peace among the stars.
So Say We All.
'Star Screamers' - Fighting 58th

----< Condition Three - Duty Area >----—-

-=============================================================================-

Jocasta is seated somewhere near the middle of the pack, dressed in her flightsuit, eyes closed as if she were trying to catch every last lick of sleep she can.

Warwick is seated at one of the front row seats, leaning back in his seat as he's keeping his attention on the front.

Orion filters in… or tries to. He suited up with his helmet hanging under his right arm and a pen and clipboard grasped into his hand. He's also not getting into the room before Kalypso is. Neither is she getting in before he is. Only one of them can be first and, well… they're both trying. "Oof! Hey, Leto… Ladies first don't work in the military." HE wants to be first! ANd he's no lady.,

Bayless heads into the auditorium, jocksmock all nicely fastened and zipped up. She grabs herself a seat near Jocasta. She glances over to the ECO, pondering whether to nudge her awake or wait for the CAG's arrival. She opts for the former. "Wakie-wakie, Jammer. Crowd's inbound."

"All pilots to the Ready Room doesn't mean 'all pilots go through the damn door at the same time' Scala," Kalypso says. She is likewise in her flightsuit, helmet in hand and said helmet is used to try to maneuver past Orion. This only results in the two of them blocking the doorway and glaring at one another. "Get out of the way."

Orion glances around. Not the time or the place, "Yeah, go, okay?" He takes a step back, "But you better not take my seat!" Orion has a seat now? When did this happen? There's assigned seating? And how did he get one so quickly?

Sloane looks to the door as Kalypso ad Orion hate-flirt. He sips his water and gives them a quiet smile before turning his head back to the front of his room. Setting his helmet down on the armrest, he props his elbow over it and waits.

"I know," says Jammer with eyes still closed, though she does turn her chin to favor the voice biding her awake. Eventually… slowly… she allows her eyes to open and she regards Bayless with a thin grin.

Kalypso takes a step back too at first, looking at Orion suspiciously when he gives way. Then with a toss of her head, the blonde steps through the doorway. Ah, the sweet satisfaction of beating him through the doorway. Of course, she can't help looking back with a smirk at the Viper jock. "Which one's your seat?" Not that she would take it… nooo… instead she veers over to plop down next to Jocasta.

Fotilas appears at teh rear hatchway looking none too thrilled that peopel are backing up like- "Is this some sort of bad cartoon? This is a strike briefing! To your seats!" The XO is dressed in his black assault fatigues and wearing his sidearm. There's a folder marked 'Classified' under his arm. He proceeds to push through the people and make his way to the front of the Ready Room.

"The one with my doggone ass print from staring at camera footage too long." Orion rolls his eyes and follows in, sitting down somewhere in the front row.

Novella files in quietly right after the XO, finding her seat at the front.

Fotilas' arrival earns a heartily-barked, "Attention on deck!" from a countermeasures officer located between a pair of Raptorbunnies near the middle. S'protocol. You gotta.

Orion quirks and salutes, "No, sir. We're just eager to kick some canner ass and recycle them into cigaratte lighters. Sorry, sir."

"Officer on Deck!" Sloane calls out, seeing Fotilas enter the room. He sets his water down quickly and stands at attention.

Orion turns and stands once Jocasta 'calls it'. He salutes and stands at attention as best he can with his helmet still in his hand.

Quickly setting his water down, Sloane leaves his helmet behind and rises from his seat. Standing at attention, he angles his head straight forward, and looks in the same direction.

Bayless grins at Jo, then snaps to her feet upon the XO's arrival.

Kalypso is quick to snap to attention and salute, though one can't miss the quick look she gives the back of Orion's head. Under her breath she mutters something that could possibly have been, 'He says that like he has an ass to speak of.' But then she's all business and waiting for the briefing.

The Executive Officer waits for a moment while everyone is at attention. The folder is opened and a number of high-gloss photos can be seen. A Petty Officer at the rear files in and turns down the lights and turns on the projector. Fotilas faces everyone at the podium and nods. "Seats." He clears his throat. "Ladies and Gentleman, I will be briefing you personally about today's operation, dubbed 'Grenadier Bay.'" He eyes everyone for a moment before turning and placing one of the photos onto a digital overhead. "This will be a major strike. We are flushing all pilots for it. Today.. for the last time.. we are jumping back to the Colonies. Today.. we are jumping back to Virgon."

Taking his seat as quietly as possible, Sloane picks up his small cup of water to keep from knocking it over. Gloves off and stuffed into a pocket, he sips the water while listening. He blinks at the mention of heading back to the Colonies, not being flight ready for the last one.

Jocasta returns to her seat once permission is given, tossing a pair of spare looks between her Lieutenant and Kalypso before returning her attention to the Executive Officer and his briefing.

Warwick listens thoughtfully, keeping silent for now as he watches that picture, and listening to what's being said.

*blink* OK. That gets Orion's attention. He's barely in his seat when his eyes are going wide. He regains composure quickly enough, though.

Bayless's face turns to all-business. She doesn't yet mention that she saw this coming, waiting for the XO to make the statement if he so chooses.Kalypso is sinking into her seat and casting looks, likewise between her two squadmates. Jocasta and Bayless both get blinks before her bi-colored eyes look back front. Of course, then she's pulling out a notepad from a pocket to start jotting things down. It'll help her commit this to memory. Although there's definitely shock running through her head now. This is serious.

"Pilots, you know all too well about our shortage of ammunition and medical supplies. Well that is the goal of today's operation. We will be jumping back to Virgon and landing a temporary occupation force at Markham Airbase, a Viper training field, on the Northern continent. The Marines and ground personnel will raid the ammunition stores as well as the base hospital, which should provide us with enough ammunition to fight - continuously - for four months. Every day. If we pick our battles, it'll be a long time before we have to reload. The medical supplies should hold out nearly as long as well. We'll be raiding the base hospital for everything from rad dosers, to neo-natal care equipment, to surgical supplies." Fotilas' eyes find everyone, his eyes hardening. "This will be one of the toughest operations you all face. We expect heavy volumes of Raiders as well as resistance on the ground." He pauses, letting the idea sink into everyone's minds.

<OOC> Novella says, "The photo on the overhead: http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp36/DecTac/MarkhamOverview.jpg"

And somewhere, a certain rookie viper pilot's bladder loosens a tiny bit.

Sloane, leaning on one elbow, visibly shifts to his other elbow. Propping himself up a little out of effect and not fatigue, his hand balls into a fist that settles over his chin. He doesn't speak, but his internal monologue seems to get the point. He looks from Fotilas to the screen, analyzing the map the best he can.

Talk about a way to get the nerves going. Kalypso moistens her lips, but keeps her game face on. The sudden increase in heart-rate and moisture on the palms of her hands is just, uh, excitement. Yes, excitement, that's it.

The XO turns and replaces the slide on the overhead. "I'm not going to read slide titles. Hopefully you all can read as well as fly." He ventures a little levity for those with loose bowels. "This is the West end of the airfield. As you can see, the hospital is a decent distance from the airstrip, however its close enough to provide medical support. The Raptors will drop Marines off here to begin raiding immediately." He points to the base landing pad with a red laser. "The Marines will coordinate all of their own ground operations, so we need not concern ourselves with that." The Mass Grave sticks out like a sore thumb. "Any questions thus far?"

<OOC> Novella says, "new slide: http://s395.photobucket.com/albums/pp36/DecTac/?action=view&current=MarkhamHospital.jpg"

Sloane remains silent, listening to the questions and keeping his eyes on the map on the screen. He takes a moment to sip the water to chase away the dryness forming in his mouth. This is going to be a long day.

The Executive Officer changes the slide once more. "This is the goldmine, people. Bullets, missiles, comm pods, countermeasures.. you name it. Its right -there-" he points the laser to the armory "and waiting to be taken. Again, Marines will handle this, though." A pause and he circles the Bunker Entrance. "This normally wouldn't be included but during the recon a burst transmission was received indicating possible survivors in this location - to include three pilots. We can't confirm their situation, but we're going to investigate regardless. Raptor crews should expect evac on them if they are in-fact still alive." He lets that set for a moment.

<OOC> Novella says, "this slide: http://s395.photobucket.com/albums/pp36/DecTac/?action=view&current=MarkhamArmory.jpg"

Micah, as usual, isn't taking notes. He's doodling on his pad of paper, a rough stick-figure caricature of a centurion getting pew-pewed to death by a marine. There's something that looks like a bunker, too. "Got a question, sir," he speaks up, lifting his pen hand once there's a break in the talking.

Sloane looks from the slides to Micah, lifting an eye a little bit. Glancing down at the notepad, he fails to change his facial expression when he would normally joke about his art. The moment's too serious. While Micah's talking, he looks to the wall to try to see if Wingman assignments have been set.

Warwick is only taking mental notes it would seem, as he listens rather thoughtfully to what's being said. He's leaning back in his chair a bit further, keeping his attention on the front now.

Fotilas lifts a hand and points to Micah. "Ensign, go." Ask your question on the double-quick.

Tychon is simply silent and attentive, at least to this point. Sitting in the back somewhere, his eyes are on the slides more than the XO - but that's the point of having slides, right? To provide the information in a compact and spatially meaningful fashion. When Micah speaks up he cocks his head to look that way, and then looks quickly back to the maps.

Bayless's eyes glance over the slide as though committing it to short-term memory. Micah's impending question draws her attention away from it.

"Are we aware of any surface-to-air missile launchers at the occupation site? And are we goin' to have to provide ground support for the marines, or is our job strictly to keep the airspace clear for 'em to land?" Micah's attention's split between the XO and the projection screen as he tries to correlate his mental picture with the maps that have been presented.

"Yes, but you're jumping ahead." Fotilas doesn't sound offended. "As for the tac-air support, its out there. If it is required, that will be coordinated via the on-site Marine Commander." Which is named. He scans the room before continuing.

Orion isn't exactly taking notes, either. In fact, he's back to doing the 'pen twirl thing', a tell-tale sign for him.

"Right. Sorry, sir." Micah's eyes return to his notepad. The centurion's somehow developed a cartoon mouth and googly eyes. He scribbles a little more.

The slide changes once more. "Threat Briefing." His voice takes on a new tone. The XO sounds more like a Marine, now. "Alright, here's the meat: When we jump in, the Vipers will enter atmo and plow the road before ANYONE goes anywhere at this field. Lead Pilot will confirm clear skies before the Raptors drop in. We've got six confirmed Raiders sitting on the tarmac at this location." The red dot circles it. "The DRADIS site - here - will have you when you hit breathable air. Expect the Raiders to welcome you with guns blazing." A pause. "Now, see all these pretty little Vipers ready to go? If things go smoothly on the ground and in the air, we'll be recalling some of you to drop in and steal these Vipers. But that's a big 'if' and it shouldn't be expected. That's the secondary drop-off that you Raptor pilots should be ready for." Another pause.

<OOC> Novella says, "http://s395.photobucket.com/albums/pp36/DecTac/?action=view&current=MarkhamPad.jpg"

Bayless raises a hand. "Does that mean we'll be keeping a group of Viper jocks out of combat for the plane-jack, or will we be pulling back to de-plane enough pilots to Raptors for the second drop?"

Fotilas looks to Bayless. "No. All Vipers will be flushed. Anyone returning to the Genesis will be either for a new Viper or more gas." If that says anything. "Your second guess would be correct."

Ah, nothing like mention of grand theft viper to have Micah grinning like a fool. If he's nervous about the potential of, say, dying a fiery death during this mission, he's channeling it all into his sketching.

"No way of telling if they're trapped." Sloane says quietly to himself as he watches the screen. Blinking, he finishes the last of his water and sets the cup aside, folding his arms.

The slide changes once more. This one shows something that most learn to fear in times of combat: "Surface to Air Missiles, as the Ensign asked about. This site is located right at the bottom scoop where the Sea of Triton nears the base, just on the other side of it." They can all read. "Lead pilot will assign no less than two pilots to take this SAM site out. They have an engagement range of twenty miles. That means horizontal and vertical, pilots." The Executive Officer pauses once more to let that sink in. "Now, hitting either the Command Post, Launchers, or the DRADIS and Comm Arrays will disable the site long enough for us to complete the mission. Just one." He leaves the slide up and places both his hands on each side of the podium, the light on it bouncing up to illuminate his face from the bottom. His voice drops to a more personable level. "I don't need to tell you how important this strike is, Wing. Not if this will be our last jump home." The man stops speaking for a moment while he meets the eyes of the pilots. "Do your jobs and come home, guys. We need you back here." Again, he lets the words linger in the air before he knocks once at the podium. The lights come up and the screen turns off. "Photo Recon is available for your purusal up front." He'll leave it for them. "Now.. any final questions?"

<OOC> Novella says, "http://s395.photobucket.com/albums/pp36/DecTac/?action=view&current=MarkhamSAM.jpg"

Sloane remains quiet, blinking his eyes slowly as his eyes readjust to the new light in the room. Running a hand through his hair, he lets out a slow, silent breath and shakes his head.

Kalypso puts her notepad away. Like some of the others, there are more relatively meaningless doodles on it than actual notes. Something to have kept her hands busy during the briefing. She shakes her head at the offer of final questions. No. She doesn't have any. Questions, that is. Of nerves she has plenty.

"Any intel on which of the three there is the softest target?" that comes from Lt. Armedes, in the back.

Micah lifts his eyes as the next slide comes up, grin still playing at the edges of his mouth. His pen's flipped over and snapped off, and he spends a few moments just studying the map that's put up. "Ah'm goin' to guess the DRADIS and comm arrays, if we can get a fix on 'em," he suggests to Tychon. Just a guess; his gaze flits back to Fotilas as if to confirm.

"All the equipment is fairly sensitive, Lieutenant. Take your pick. The CP is the larger but little bit harder target. The launchers and comm arrays are smaller and softer. I'm not a pilot so the discretion is.." Fotilas glances around the room before settling on Warwick and Tychon. "Well the discretion belongs to one of you, Lieutenants." He looks around.

Question asked, Micah's guess offered, and the XO's response taken, Tychon remains silent a few moments, kind of staring at the screen, perhaps mulling it over. He casts a sidelong look at Warwick. He looks back to offer their briefer a nod, signaling that he has nothing more.

Bayless shakes her head, not entirely sure if Fotilas can spot it, but her silence should just as much.

Seeing as nobody has any more questions, the XO nods one last time. "Good Hunting, Wing. Kick some frakkin' Cylon ass!" His fist pounds the podium before he looks around. Its only a second as he memorizes the faces of those present. Then, without another word, the Executive Officer sets off the dias and walks down the side of the seats to the hatch at the rear.

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