A transport ship leaving Tauron is jumped by Raiders and requests emergency assistance. The Galactica scrambles its fighters to defend it. Upon landing, the transport's cargo is not what it seems.
Location: Hangar Deck
Related Scenes: None
Plot: Operation: Bullhorn
Scene Number: 720
The hangar deck is where the Viper and Raptor squadrons 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. Numbered sections are marked off with paint to house the various spacecraft. The place is rather a mess, with tool chests, machine parts, diagnostic equipment, and even the occasional spare engine or chassis scattered all over the place. But despite the apparent disorder, everything has a place and the deck crew's foremost concern is safety.
Thankfully for Tamlin, the only officer who gets to tell her anything about the manner in which she does her job is a certain Petty Officer of the Master Chief variety, and so the rest of them can go hang. Much as she herself is doing, perched on the back of a viper like she's riding a horse backwards, in the process of removing a engine that's been blown half to hades by some round of cylon engagement or another. She does at least have her safety harness on, and a protective mask to save eye from light damage from the welding torch she's using to remove the pieces that have been fused together.
Danica has landed nearby, presently and casually making her way down the steps of the hydraulic door that's opened on her now-third Raptor. No longer needing her flight helmet, she's yanking it off and exhaling out a slight sigh of relief for the much more comfortable temperature difference with it off. Already, two deckies are on her bird, attending to their post-flight checks as she's reaching for a clipboard that keeps the forever cycle of pilot-related paperwork going. She glances at the rescued transport, grimacing mildly at the sparking and arcing. "Well, frak, hope it ain't full of depressurized and popped like a grape people inside the hull...," she observes to anyone within ear shot.
The thing about being a military chaplain is that sometimes people decide that they need to talk to a priest ZOMG RIGHT NOW NO NOT BEFORE THIS MISSION CAUSE I MIGHT DIE OKAY. Or, you know. Maybe Aldrich just wanted a close up look at what it's like down there. Who knows! It would certainly be safe to assume he's here on chaplain business, but since he's in a corner chatting quietly with one of the pilots, it's anyone's guess. The sparking and hissing of the transport does draw his attention for just a brief moment, but his conversational parter continues talking, drawing his attention back.
When word filters up to Medbay that there has been a distress call from a transport vessel, medics scurry out like the cockroaches they are to feast upon the refuse of injured personnel. It is, after all, what they live for. Or more importantly, it's in their job description. Miko is pushing a gurney, calling for a hole to be made among those milling about to see the latest catastrophe, his kit bouncing wildly against his thigh.
Cate is moving along behind Miko, also down from sickbay with a medkit slung over her shoulder.
Having been a part of the alert flight sent out to deal with the transport ship's pest problem, Niemec is going over the post-flight checklist in her Raptor. Her helmet sits on the pilot's seat and her flight suit is partially unzipped. Her ECO is outside the raptor, doing the external checks, and relaying a small issue with the KEW to an impatient-looking deckie.
Tamlin was just in the middle of the fight of her life with one very damaged engine, when she seems to have been thrust into yet another fight for her life. There's only a split second of shock in which she doesn't do anything, before all of the hard won experience she gained on Caprica surges back into her forebrain and she hops up, moving to slide down on the side of the viper turned away from the cylons, to head towards the alert lounge. Knowing the deck like the back of her hand makes it a bit easier to move from cover to cover to get where she needs to be.
There is little time to react as Miko realizes that survivors have just become intruders. That metal clank on the decking sill surely haunt many a nightmares in the days to come. As the hail of Centurion fire eats up the decking and comes towards the ramp, the male medic does the first thing that comes to him, and he grips the edge of the gurney and flips it up on its side. It won't provide cover for long, but maybe it's enough to keep he and Cate safe for the moment as they work out how to get the armory. Speaking of Cate, he reaches for the woman and tries to haul her bodily down.
Danica isn't slow by any means, but watching Centurions pile out of a damaged transport is something you don't just see every day, either. There's a slow fish bowl blink, trying to catch up to the situation as they open up and make for the ramp. And Danica's running behind, trying to find cover between the Vipers and Raptors in the queue to be lowered down to the deck bellow as she goes- sidearm unstrapped from her thigh and in hand.
Aldrich reacts a split second slower to the outburst of clanking and explosions than the pilot he'd been talking to, and even then, it's unclear whether he ducked behind the nose of the nearest ship of his own accord, or if it was the other fellow's hand on his arm that dragged him back. In any case, Aldrich himself remains behind while the pilot rushes off, no doubt to get to a weapon. For his part, Aldrich looks just barely around the nose of the ship, eyes a little wide as he tries to see exactly what's going on.
The sight of Centurions on the hangar deck is so out of context that Cate just freezes for a second as her brain tries to make sense of it. Fortunately for her, Mikolas is grabbing her arm and tugging her into cover behind the gurney. She crouches there with him, prepared to move along with him.
It's when the first sound of fire and shouts go up that Niemec is alerted that something is amiss. Something Big(TM) is amiss. The Captain draws her sidearm as she ducks towards the Raptor's hatch. She hisses as she spots the Centurions, lining up to take fire on one. Or two. Or as many as humanly possible. "What I'd do for a proper rifle," she mutters. Shame she wasn't just on a marine-movement mission; there'd potentially be gear in the Raptor.
Tamlin already knows there's only one option. She needs to get to a weapon. Of course there are tons of impromptu weapons she could use all around, if she possibly wanted to blow a hole in the hull of the ship, so maybe for now she'll just keep trying to move as ninja-like as possible from cover to cover heading towards the alert lounge.
As the gurney vibrates with shots aimed at his general person, Mikolas cringes with a flutter of eyelashes as he flinches from the sound. "We gotta make a break for it, head to the alert room and grab some weapons. You with me, Rhodes?" Miko nods emphatically, because apparently that's a rhetorical question. He's going to drag her in that direction - or more specifically push her - with his body between her and the baddies that are invading their ship.
A shot fired, Niemec manages to duck back into the Raptor as the Centurion that's turned on her fires in her direction. "Frak me." There's a glance towards the console, but surely someone's called the alarm up to the CIC. Marines should be pouring in anytime... right? Shifting, she leans back out to fire off more shots. To perhaps try to slow the tide of the Cents. "Well now we know why they were so easy to fight off," she grouches.
Danica isn't even to the ramp, already she's getting shot at. The bullet grazes her right arm, cutting through her Eva suit and forcing her behind Kallas' viper to take cover. Her brilliant plan to approach the ramp gummed up by firefight.
Cate flinches when a bullet strikes the gurney and another whizzes over her head. "Frakking hell, we need some guns," she mumbles, before nodding to Miko's suggestion. "Let's go," she says, starting that way even before the helpful push.
Aldrich sees... well, nothing that really clarifies the situation. Robots make things go boom (and occasionally squish). That's apparently enough for him, anyway. He stays put just for a second longer, takes a deep breath, and then slips out of his little hiding spot, trying to keep those Raptors or whatever between him and the pew-pew machines as he grimly and quickly tries to make his way to the alert room. Maybe it's the nearest place? Or maybe he's just following the lead of someone who looks like they know what's up. Same diff.
Tamlin is not necessarily a small woman, being probably about average for Caprican females. But the bullet(s) that slams into her as she moves between one rack of tools and a cargo box of some supplies she didn't even have a chance to manhandle yet knocks her almost completely off of her feet. Human versus LMG, never works out well for anyone. She stumbles, sliding in behind a rack of parts, not even bothering to check the damage. Because really, what can she do about it? Instead, she just tries to get to her feet and tumble into the alert lounge, hoping the Marines are like horses who will usually jump a downed rider. She'll grab a weapon and some armor while she's at it.
Danica is crawling now, coming out of her hidey hole at the front of Kallas' viper to take a direct hit at the Cylon she's targeting! The less great news is the bullet largely gives it a love scratch. The worse news is its friend puts a bullet in her leg, in response. And now, Dani's really crawling. Years from now, someone will ask Danica how she spent the Cylon War and she will say: 'Shot'. If years from now comes.
Another hit and another evasion. Well, another blessing to the thick plating of the Raptor she's in. Niemec, however, isn't going to stay there forever. Instead, she's going to try to get to the alert lounge. Better weapons there. Maybe. Perhaps. At the very least, it'll prevent some deckhand bemoaning the bullet holes in her bird later. So with another volley of shots exchanged, she jumps down and starts winding her way in that direction.
Tamlin knows how to move quickly when she needs to. Hasn't she been evading pilots with bad attitudes for years now? She grabs at the first bits of armor she can find, and a rifle, because, let's be real, she's no Marine. But she'll still try to shoot the heck out of a cylon or two while she tries to see how she can use the deck equipment against them.
Of course there are wounded all around, but Miko's not going to be any good to anyone if he can't fight their way to them. He only pauses once to glance over his shoulder with a sort of helpless look before he follows Cat into the room to arm up.
Seeing the alert marines come stomping out of the lounge. "What the hell took you guys so long!" Cate grouses at them. "Chaplain, get in here," she calls, even though he's kinda already moving that direction. Cate, though, doesn't follow her own advice. Since the alert marines are far better equipped to fight than she is, she decides to do her other job - treating the wounded. Danica is the worst off that's in her immediate eye-line, so Cate dashes over to clamp a pressure bandage on that leg and help her into cover.
Aldrich does a little duck-flinch when a shot lands a little close for comfort, but he doesn't look back to see /how/ close it was. Nope. Cate earns herself a kind of intense /look/ at her instruction, but at least he manages to catch up to her and apparently Dani without further mishap. "Hey, doc," he offers, a little breathlessly. "Here, let me help," he offers, extending an arm toward Dani.
"You attacked US, you dumb frakkers." Tamlin is staying as much inside the lounge as she can, using the wall as cover. But she's not about to let them get away with blowing up her motherfrakking deck! One of these babies is going down....she hopes.
What. The. Frak. Niemec only briefly casts a look back over her shoulder to the shouting Centurions. But all it does, really, is give her an additional drive to reach the Ready Room. Enough of one, it'd seem, that she manages to not get hit. And oh, lo and behold, there is an amazing, wonderful, great rifle just waiting there. She manages not to utter 'my precious' as she grabs for it and turns to rejoin the fighting.
Good news: Tamlin isn't dead. Bad news: Neither is the cylon. But she's not about to let that stop her! She's definitely done it some damage, and so she gives it another go. She won't leave the lounge yet though, although she does seem to be eyeing a forklift not far from the entrance to the lounge.
"Well look at you, Aldo," Danica mumbles at the Chaplain with a grin, as he pitches in to help Cate with applying the field dressing to her leg. Cate just gets yelp and wince for her efforts. "Thanks," she manages, before twist-splaying around one of them to fire at the Centurions. They're newly found ability to talk unimpressive, likely because they won't stop shooting while doing it.
Cate glances over her shoulder when Aldrich turns up there with Danica. Surprised, but not put off. "Hey, thanks," she says, breathless herself. She makes sure Danica is in cover, and gets a richochet bullet creasing the side of her shin for her troubles. "Frak," she mumbles, barely sparing it a glance before blinking at the talking Cylons. "That's creepy." And then the Raptor exploding nearly gives her a heart attack. She ducks down, trying to shield her patient (i.e. Danica) from any flying Raptor bits.
Aldrich snorts faintly at Danica's comment, and ducks out of her way so she can get a shot off. "Careful. Your stitches," he offers, but it's a bit distracted as the machine-talking starts. His reaction is decidedly... Unpriestlike. He pulls a sour face, and mutters, "Bullsh..." A glance to Dani and Cate, and then he alters it to "...shampoo." Just in time for an explosion, and he throws an arm up in an instinctive defense.
Tamlin is still inside the lounge, still trying to take down a few cylons. She can't see much of what's going on outside of her little circle of hell, but if the deck crew is doing what they have been trained to do, the fuel lines have been shut down, and they are doing the best they can to get the explosive ordinance out of harm's way. When the raptor goes up, she jerks back out of instinct, the identity of the raptor only takes her a split second to recognize.
Cate has peeled off to go treat Danica, but Mikolas is still intent on arming up to cover his own advance back into the fray. The explosion of the Raptor nearly sends him lurching into the Alert room, accelerated by the blast so he moves faster than his feet can actually carry him. Skittering into the room, he takes a moment to get his breath and looks around, "You're wounded." He informs Tamlin, as if she didn't know that herself.
"You can kiss it and make it better later." Ain't nobody got time for getting patched up right now, not when there's enemies on the deck still mowing down every single target they can see. Tam is no marine, but she can damned well fight like one when she's cornered. Okay, not really, but she can take another shot at that cylon. Between her shots and whomever else it is shooting at it, they take it down. And then she has enough time to target the other before she catches sight of the medic getting hosed himself, and she pulls out a bit more to make herself a target, hopefully, and give him a chance to get behind a handy wall.
Ow. Like, really.. freaking... out. Niemec continues to manage to not be hit by the Centurions themselves, but she's also not under any form of cover. And perhaps bleeding a bit too much from freakin' shrapnel to be able to run. So she just hunkers down where she is, trying to help the marines take out the toasters that remain. Particularly the frakkers targeting the medics.
"Don't worry, sister. I'll just wait until you've passed out from blood loss before I do the kissing. But if you, ya know, lose a limb or something in the process don't go complaining to your CO that the medic didn't try to render aid and you refused." Grousing as he is, Miko isn't going to waste time fighting with Tamlin about aid, rather he just drops down into a position that he can return fire until he /can/ do his job.
Cate is rocked by the Raptor explosion, falling across Danica as she tries to shield the pilot from the worst of it. The concussion leaves her ears ringing and a dazed look on her face for a few moments before she seems to snap out of it. "You okay?" she asks, a look including Aldrich and Danica both in that question. But Danica doesn't answer, leading Cate to prompt again, "Gopnik? Hey, can you hear me?" She rubs on the woman's breastbone, getting a grunt but no eyes opening in response. Only then does she notice the new shrapnel wound on the woman's head. "Frak." She hasn't yet noticed that her back is also bleeding, a few tears in her uniform jacket from the shrapnel.
Aldrich is looking a little dazed himself, but he blinks at Cate's question and nods a little. "Yeah, fine..." He's got a few new wounds to show, himself, but his seem to be mostly superficial. As he realizes Dani's condition, he frowns a little. "Trouble magnet, this one." He glances to Cate. "Is it bad?" Then his gaze lowers slightly, and he adds, "You're bleeding."
"Oh, you're one of those creeper princes." Tamlin glances over, just enough to make sure it actually is the medic dropping down of his own accord and not passing out. "I can dig it." Tamlin does her damnedest to take out that cylon before the next bad thing happens, "Oh no you don't." Nobody messes with the Chief's Office, the one place on the deck as sacred to the deckies as the chapel to people who actually care about religion, especially not some scum-sucking cylons. She isn't paying any attention to the cylons braying. Maybe she'd be more inclined if they weren't shooting, but nope...not today.
"That's right, Princess. I prefer my women unconscious and surrounded by dwarves after eating bad produce." Miko misses entirely, but that's not exactly the point of a medic shooting. It's to draw fire or provide cover for those closer to the 'front line', of which he's starting to creep towards out of the safety of alert room towards those that are injured more direly. "Wounded, sing out!" He yells ahead, trying his best to keep his wits about him with those creepy repetitive ploys by the Tincans.
Cate shakes her head to Aldrich. "No, looks worse than it is." Head wounds just like to bleed a lot. She frowns over her shoulder when Aldrich points out she's bleeding herself, but shrugs it off for now. "I'm fine." Adrenaline is a wonderful thing. But Danica's not waking up, so Cate goes to make sure she's tucked away safely. "Help me move her back behind this," Cate asks the chaplain, pausing to pick up Danica's pistol before grabbing the woman under the shoulders. The chatty Cylons get a glare. "Wish they'd shut the hell up," she mumbles.
Aldrich nods a little, moving to follow Cate's instructions. Hauling people out of harm's way is a thing he can do. "Yeah," he agrees, re: the bizarre claims by the bots. "I got some first aid training in basic. Want me to wrap up the head wound while you help the others? Or I could get a weapon and cover you..."
"Hit the red release handle!" Tamlin does her best to shout in the Marine's direction. There should be an emergency release close at hand that will force the cargo ramp to retract back into the ceiling. It's part of the mechanism to seat the flight deck off from the hangar deck when they vent the atmo for flight operations. "We've got to stop whatever else might be up there!" Hopefully somebody, marine or deckhand or crew will be close enough and alert enough to get it done. As for Tam, well, she'll keep shooting. She's not close enough to get there before they finish the job they started when they first shot her.
"Yeah, see if you can get that bleeding under control, and grab a weapon if you can. I'm going to go get that guy and bring him over here." Cate announces her intention to go get some poor unmoving deckhand that she points to. She starts moving that way, taking a potshot at one of the remaining Cylons as she moves.
Aldrich nods a little and gives a minimal faux-salute. At the last minute, as she's getting up to leave him there with Dani, he snatches a bandage out of Cate's pack, then gets down to the business of making her Dani doesn't bleed out over a head wound. "I'll catch up, then," he calls after Cate, without taking his eyes off the job at hand.
As the contingency of Marines presses forward, Miko follows behind them switching between getting off a shot here or there and then dropping down to his knee to press gauze into a wound of a deckhand that he doesn't recognize. "It'll be just fine." He mutters to the man, putting his back to the Cylons to provide cover while he works. The bleeding under control, he skitters off to the next patient cleaning up like a shovel-wielder behind the horses in the parade.
Thankfully, she seems... unharmed. By bullets, at least. Otherwise, Niemec is very much harmed. Bleeding. Not looking too happy for a variety of reasons. She's got shrapnel in god-knows-how-many places, there's dead men and women all over the place, and oh yeah. A transport ship full of toasters got into their flight deck! But she's sort of sinking further into a sitting position. Might not be shooting much longer.
Tamlin, rifle or no rifle is still very much a deckie, and when the pronouncement comes from the marine who manages to close the ramp, her attention shifts to what may or may not be happening on the flight deck. She hits the final cylon down here, but it's for the rest of the people now bearing down on it to finish it off. As soon as she sees it go down, she sprints forward, moving to one of the emergency phones that calls up to the LSO's office as well as the Deck Chief's. Like a PA for the important people. "Dorn here, marines are reporting movement on the flight deck. Suggesting venting the space to eliminate as many enemy combatants as possible." She pauses, then bites back, "You think they left any of us alive up there? They knew what they signed up for."
So much blood. In so many ways it's ten times worse because they are actually on /their/ turf. In their home. On their ship. Miko actually slips in it, his boots catching a patch on the metal surface and his weight goes out from beneath him. With a thud he lands on his own ass and the wind is knocked out of him for a moment. No. Not his wind. He's got a stitch in his side. No. Not a stitch either. A wound. He has only a moment to reflect on the fact that it's his blood causing his scrubs to stick to his ribcage before the cacophony of the unexpected battle comes roaring back to his ear. "Triage! We need triage set up. Life before limb. Those in dire need but can be saved get sent up to sickbay first. We treat what we can down here. Evac wounded to the hallways and stairwells. Pull them back!" And so it goes, while the fight still rages, the fallen will be taken care of.
Triage means different things to different people. For the medical staff, and for those in need of medical attention, it means tending to wounds and deciding who can be saved and who can't. But for the members of the deck crew who are still fit, or at least fit enough to do their jobs, triage means tending to the one casualty that is more important than anything of flesh and blood, and that's the Galactica herself. With the Chief likely off somewhere taking care of business just as serious, and with Tamlin's request already passed up the chain, the PFC heads off to round up the ablest of the deck's bodies to start evaluating the damage caused by the explosion, the cylons and the ensuing firefight. Whatever happens above their heads will be dealt with, for now, there's a lot of fuel lines to check and ordinance to secure.
As the final toaster immediately threatening them falls, Niemec just sort of slumps back against a tool cart. She lets the rifle rest in her lap and just sort of watches through tired eyes. As she's definitely limb and not life, the Captain doesn't send up any shouts. Instead, she just lets exhaustion take over and slouches. Okay, so maybe there is some bloodloss going on.
It's pretty much nothing but adrenaline and duty that's keeping Tamlin going. No, she wasn't shot bad, but it was no flesh wound either, and the blood is now clearly spreading out beneath the bottom of her flak vest, darkening her gorgeously orange coveralls, now that she's actually moving around and her blood is pumping more than it was when she was just crouched mostly behind a wall. She sends the members of the crew such as they remain off to do the required work, directing the incoming deckhands who are coming in to replace the wounded. A hint of movement catches her eye and she spies Niemec, waiting quietly for aid that might not be coming, "Got a wounded pilot over here!" Tamlin raises her voice, calling for the closest medical staff to attend to the pilot, whom she approaches, kneeling down, "Hey, Cappy. You hold on, they're coming."
There's one eye that opens when Tamlin speaks to her and Niemec sort of smiles. It's a tired sort of smile and fades quickly. "I'm not 'bout to die. They need to get to others yet. I'm just damn tired, else I'd try to walk myself down to medical." Leaving a trail and smears of blood because doesn't every janitorial crew love to clean that up? She shifts the rifle in her lap, nudging in Tamlin's way. "You could make sure this gets back to a marine so it can be properly accounted for."
Tamlin accepts the weapon, slinging it up onto her shoulder to join the one she was using herself. She's sure someone will come and get it from her eventually. But for the now, they might still need it. "Don't worry, I'll make sure it's taken care of." She does her best to stay with Niemec, to try to keep the woman awake and alert until the medical team can get to them. Once she sees the cavalry move in, and start tending to the raptor pilot, she'll stand, to get into line and hopefully get patched up as soon as possible. But given that she can feel the bullets grinding somewhere under her skin, it might not be a quick fix.
And Niemec is no help at all. See, she's just tired. That's all. It's not blood loss and shock at all. It's just good ol' post-combat weariness. So she sort of fusses and mumbles at Tamlin a bit for trying to keep her from her well-deserved nap, damnit! But then there's medical crew there, helping her onto a gurney. Oh hey, free ride. "Can we go by the mess hall on the way? I'd love a sandwich."