The Timberwolves are sent on a secret mission to take out a Cylon production facility!
Location: **Redacted** Picon
Related Scenes: None
Plot: Operation: Cat and Mouse
Scene Number: 806
Picon Air Recon has reported they've spotted the presumed missing scout submarine Enyo coming in for resupply after an extended period. The Enyo reports that a secret undersea factory, CODE NAME: PHAEAX is showing signs of reactivation after being disabled near the beginning of the war. Lacking available marines, and showing great trust in the Timber Wolves, the Picon Navy has requested that the Timberwolves dispatch a combat team to the Enyo for insertion to PHAEAX in order to cease cylon operations.
A self-sufficient base, PHAEAX is built into a geothermic fissure in a deep sea trench in what started out as a mine, it expanded over the years into a factory, before the cylon war began, it was secretly producing militarized cylons in order to covertly build Picon's defenses in the event of another invasion.
Insert into the PHAEAX base through Airlock 23.
Determine extent of Cylon Operations.
Shut down Cylon Operations by:
A. Clearing facility of Cylons maintaining the facility if able.
B. Destroy the facility by flooding it from the control centre.
C. Signal Enyo for retrieval.
On board the Enyo…
The Enyo is a 50m long submarine capable of deep water missions, with room for several passengers. It is cramped and hot with 30 crew members. Able to run nearly silently, after a 9 hour journey, it pulls up to Airlock 23 with little difficulty, the helm reporting zero contacts, the noise of the factory masked their approach.
The captain of the Enyo, a short, gaunt man with salt and pepper stubble on his face, who, when out of port opts to wear only his tank top and pants approaches the team. "This is it. We've picked the airlock farthest south of the main complex. You'll have to swim there, but don't panic, we're not quite at a crush depth yet." He smiles, watching the team get ready with their wetsuits and tanks. "Lords of Kobol watch over you."
Abigail, for her part, has been silent, for the trip down. Speaking when spoken too, helping when needed. One the one with probably the most training in underwater operations of the Wolves, she's taken them all through proper use of their gear, how to maneuver once they depart the sub, and all the useful things. But she hasn't been her usual self, as one might expect, with her back in her element. "Thank you, Captain." A glance towards the others, "Everyone good to go?"
It's almost inevitable that Gage grumbles about the fact that they're even at the waterside, but still no beach retreat to randomly defend. His mood might have something to do with the fact that he's still sporting some bandages from his last mission, a slight limp to his walk -- but it could equally have to do with the fact that, since they're going into an underwater base, demolitions are almost definitely out of the question unless things have already gone FUBAR. He manages to sleep throughout most of the trip, rubbing a hand over short-shaven hair when they near their destination. "Wonder if the cylons brought their beachware?" he muses, before he gives Walker a thumbs up.
Water missions are good, even if a submarine is... strangely not fully in Charlie's element. It's different and in a strange sort of way. It's like a ship, but not quite. The heat is one factor she wasn't quite expecting. "You'd think," she mumbles as she gears up, "that they'd have better climate controls." There is a snort as Gage mentions beachware. "Uh-huh. Cylons in bikinis and banana hammocks. Just what I wanna imagine." She prods at her tank, starting to heft it. There's a grunt at the weight. Less than a full recon pack, but still not light. "Frak me," she's mumbling as she starts through final checks.
"Oh yes," The captain says, gesturing to his Petty Officer who opens a suitcase and puts it on the table. She opens it and pushes it towards the team. "For Sharks. You know, just in case." The briefing did not mention sharks. The PO then hands out the gyrojet pistols and ushers the team into the starboard airlock.
The Enyo's airlock closes and slowly floods around you with the freezing cold water of the deep ocean Once full, the outer doors open and the ocean is dark as pitch until the Enoy turns on it's lamps. For space-submarine future lights, they don't penetrate very far, barely illuminating Airlock 23, 30m from the submarine. There's a low bass hum in the water wafting off of the facility. As the team gets closer, distorted sounds of an undersea factory can be heard.
Liv is yet another one who chooses to sleep on their sub-marinal ride to their target destination. They may not be at crush level, but her ears popped. Yawn. Pop. Well, to hell with it, but it seemed as Liv gave up on napping in lieu of ear-pains they are approaching near enough to suit up.
Gear on and silence save the faint expression in her pale gaze lets them know she is ready even as she checks and double checks her gear...
Though that would not matter in the /least/ to Liv if Cysharks exist. Make the death quick!
Abigail will be the first one out. The others coming out according to their skill and preference. Team positions won't really be important until they get through the airlock. She does motion for Gage, however, indicating the charges they've brought, as well as the chemical welding supplies. With no torches, this is like stuff you apply, and them add the reaction agent to burn through metal. She moves and swims with and easy confidence.
"Can't be much worse than we saw in the sewers." Gage is clearly just asking for trouble from the Gods, right there. His expression notably darkens at the Captain's mention of, "Sharks?" he echoes in a low voice, glancing at the other marines. Did he just say sharks? Farrrrk. Of course, no time to complain, as is the usual way, since it's suit up time and there's shark-infested waters to swim across. If Gage's posture as he swims across the dark divide says anything, it's surely, 'Fuk you, sharks,' following Walker's lead in the water. This really isn't his element.
"At least it's not a spear gun," Charlie murmurs to herself. She doesn't seem too bothered by the idea of sharks, but then: Queenstown girl. There's plenty worse in those waters. She does glance towards Gage, flashing him a quick grin. "You'll be fine. Maybe even see some of those bikinis later, if you wait around to see Walker and I strip out of these things." See? She knows how to lift spirits! And then it's out into the waters and she's settling towards the rear of things to keep an eye out; the demolitions part of this isn't for her, nope. She's here as 'muscle.'
Liv is also not here to play a role in demolitions, though she could esily be backup. Backup, for the backup she already is, that is.
Sharks are not friends, beady eye'd things bother her, even birds, but more a scooch away from them kind of bother. Swimming through the water though? Thoroughly enjoyed and done with a relative ease although she is on alert, watching the others of this team until they approach the entry they are supposed to clear. "Maybe after the shower /after/ stripping out. They make skin feel funny." Buzzkill! For now.
The Timberwolves swim through the dark waters towards the undersea airlock, marked with giant, bright '23' on the door. It only takes a few button pushes on the control panel to open it up with the code supplied by the Enyo's captain. With a loud, echoing mechanical noise it then shuts behind the team and slowly the water drains out. Through the window of the airlock, the Enyo can be seen as it pulls away. Inside, a long, dark corridor filled with stale air can be seen. A metal grid false floor, with piping running along the walls, and periodic control panels for an interior com system. The diagrams supplied indicate it is 200m to the factory proper.
As soon as the airlock is drained, Abigail begins the process of removing her scuba gear. She doesn't bother taking off the wetsuit. They simply can't put it back on at a run, "Let's secure the tanks and rebreathers here. Make sure you fasten them to something sturdy, so they don't float away if the place is flooded again. We can come back for them on the way back. Can't risk carrying them with and them getting damaged on the way. Wagner, you're up front, Tomak and I will follow, Overstreet, you're on drogue. We have our orders. Evaluate first, then we take care of destroying the base. We need as much information as we can get, not only on how much of a presence is still here, but what they're making."
Gage gives a knowing sort of smirk towards Charlie; knowing because he's acutely aware she's playing distraction, and that it works, too. Water definitely isn't Gage's element, his normally stoic expression holding perhaps a hint of relief as when he finally pulls the scuba gear off his head and eases the tank down. Of course, the air probably isn't any fresher in here than the tank, but it's all relative, as he takes a deep breath. He works quickly to stow his gear, giving a wordless nod to Walker as she gives out the marching orders. "I'll leave the eyeballing to Wagner. Just point me at anything that needs to be shot or blown up, Walker," he says, with a grin.
Liv remains just as she was, holding up behind the group as they seek to penetrate deeper within.
Hanging her gear and fastening it, the rest is checked down to her weapons, left at the ready for necessity's sake.
With every step deeper she cants her head and listens beyond the pulse of the building itself for any signs or tells that they are going to be approached or nearing opposing movement.
Usually, Charlie is in the rear... so point, well. Either way, she's good for it. So the woman gives a sharp nod and moves towards the fore after securing the excess -- heavy -- gear and shaking the excess water off. She checks over the special weapon and makes a bit of a face. It's not her preferred. "Yep, leave the eyeballing to me," she chirps back towards the others. "All of it. All the eyes and their balls." Someone's in a mood. Not a bad one, either; she likes getting the chance to swim, apparently. Even in the cold water.
At the 200m mark is a bulkhead. The sounds of heavy machinery can be heard beyond. Through the grimy small window, little can be seen. Bright lights and sparks, indicating some sort of automated welding machine before it disappears! Through the window, a Centurion can be seen, pausing at the doorway for a moment or two before it wanders off, its heavy footsteps barely registering over the background noise. After wiping more of the grim off of the window, the cavernous factory floor beyond can be seen, with racks and racks of centurion torsos dangling from hooks as they move incrementally along an assembly line. After several moments, the centurion guard makes its way back and pauses in front of the window again. The circuit seems to take one minute, fifteen seconds.
Abigail moves fluidly with Gage, the two of them remaining in the middle, between the recon marine leading the charge, and the one behind guarding their backs. And all the while, she's looking all around the corridors, pointing out places, here and there, when demo might be applied for maximum effort for minimal effort. A pause, as they come up to the first area, and she waits for Charlie's report, before she'll wave them off or on.
Once when the other engineer points out a location, Gage frowns, and after a closer inspection of the material, gestures to a slight shift of position, but otherwise seems to agree with her, judging by the silent bob of his head. They're deep in enemy territory, so he keeps mum on any verbal communication, occasionally flicking glance towards Charlie and Liv to determine if there's anything that's alerted them, his rifle held close to his body to avoid banging on the metal walls.
Liv is staying alert, with every gestured point and direction, even if subtle she is following it with flicks of her gaze that trails her from one point to the other, although that does not stop her pivot upon the balls of her feet to keep her vantage to anything that may try and get the team by surprise, staying more to a sidled position that keeps one portion of her own side covered just in case.
Closer approach has little visual of the Centurion, but the shadow cast ahead through the hazed window is enough for Liv, already getting one of her weapons to the ready, but another is based on what lies ahead.
After clearing the window enough to see, Charlie leans against the doorway to watch the Centurion. She holds the weapon tightly, breathing carefully as she waits... and counts. Her attention is on the patrol. Finally, she moves away enough to rejoin the group. "We've got a single guard," she murmurs, voice low, "on patrol. One minute, fifteen seconds for its circuit. They're using the factory to produce more. Racks of the things." She looks to the gear Gage carries. "Ready to blow this place?"
Abigail nods, considering, as Charlie gives her breakdown of the work being done, and then she looks to the other three in the group, "Alright, let's move. Work our way from floor to floor, see what else they've working on, then we head to the command center." It's temping to just burst in there, of course, but that's not the mission.
There's a brief twitch of lips from Gage that might be the aborted start of a grimace. "Not much time," he murmurs, but then there never is. He glances towards Walker, with a raise of eyebrows. "Want me to wire up the place while you guys secure the command center?" His, just in case goes unvoiced, but it's present in his expression all the same.
Looking at the bulkhead controls, it looks like there is some sort of alarm system that would need to be disabled in order to avoid alerting the entire base. (Tech roll whoever wants to do it, and then stealth whoever's sneaking around).
%% Abigail spends a luck point on Don't F this up..
"Alone?" Liv looks from Gage to Abigail and Charlie as the plans are laid out and he speaks up, her tone low and cautious of the risk overall, but it is not her call to make or to be wary of, she is ready and waiting for them to move in and position themselves to leave this place a graveyard in the deep.
"I'm fine for securing the command center," Charlie agrees, leaving the other(s) to get things wired up. She's even happy to lead the way. Whether Gage handles it alone or keeps Abigail behind to help him while she takes Liv. The woman checks her local short-wave comm before moving on ahead through the base, taking notes as she goes along. The more intel they can collect, too, the better.
Abigail shakes her head, "No, we need to move as a unit, we can set charges as we go, but we're too small of a unit. We have no idea what's waiting for us in the command center." And she'll move to do just that, working with gage to work at speed, whenever possible.
With a shift of shoulders, Gage takes Abigail's word as order without too much of a fuss, though he does give a narrow-eyed look at the door as they pass. Here and there, he'll bend to place a charge in out-of-the-way as possible, moving a bit faster between to keep up with the rest.
At least the concern on a level tone Liv tends to always carry on missions, does not go unnoted and is addressed in a manner that does not relieve the tension of her posture, but at least it lightens the corners of her eyes from honed in narrow set to a bit more relaxed.
The gesture from Charlie gets a nod from, Liv and a silent passage to follow behind, her step returning to one of speed yet silence.
The wiring system is complicated, but Abigail finds the communications node and, using a bypass circuit and alligator clips manages to install a dead air loop into the coms system. With that taken care of, the team is able to time the patrol just right to skulk through the bulkhead into the factory. It's a big operation, with a zig zag belt of cylon torsos snaking through the area, with automated welders zapping circuit boards inside. It appears that this floor is purely for torsos. As the team skulks along, they make good time towards the command centre, up a flight of stairs and down another corridor when they hear the noise.
Up ahead, a cylon stands guard at a junction. Another centurion plods down the corridor, heavy metal feet sounding off against the metal grill flooring as it meets up with the guard. They stare at each other for a moment, then the pair of them begin stomping down the hall towards the team, their red eyes sweeping the area for any signs of tampering or malfunction.
Hearing those steps of a centurion unit as they near the corridor, Charlie moves quickly off to the side and holds up a hand to signal a halt as she presses to the wall. She gestures, using CONLANG to indicate how many she thinks are on the way. Her eyes go towards Abigail, awaiting orders.
Abigail nods, as she pauses, allowing Wagner to set the tone, before she gestures herself. Try to stay unseen and sneak past. If it goes tits up, well...that's what they have weapons for.
Gage presses against the wall as soon as he spots Wagner's signal, glancing to Walker, then back down the line to Overstreet. He doesn't quite hold his breath, but he holds still, one hand on his weapon in preparation for things going badly.
Already on edge and ready, the tension is high strung and it is something that could be plucked and get the resounding tune of a breaking metal string - one thing, at this very moment she would love to hear. Falling metal.
Stepping into the side she watches the others and then lets her eyes fall ahead at what may be approaching.
The Timberwolves all make themselves small among the conduits against the wall, squeezing in tight, they'd be invisible were the cylons not scrutinizing the area with such ruthlessness. One of them makes a binary noise to the other, and they both immediately bring up their rifles, it's clear the Timberwolves have been made.
There's a quiet swear from Charlie once she realizes that despite trying to move silently past, the Centurions have still heard them. It's more of a mouthing of the words than anything, but the woman still signals it to the rest of the group. They've been noticed.
Well, frak it. Truth is, Gage is the sort that seems to prefer direct contact than sneaking about, swinging his rifle up, and sighting on the nearest guard, opening fire without hesitation.
There is a moment where Liv wanted to just step out and open fire, it was what she knew best in some instances, but that palatable flavor of copper is already there ahead of time making her finger itch.
An itch scrated once they were picked up on and she gets to do what restraint had her chewing the insideof her cheek against!
It's on and in a trained flash of movement, Liv is opening fire.
Abigail wanted to do this the slow and steady way. But the cylons are not looking to play fair. Well, quick, and dirty, and loud will just have to do. Once more into the breech!
The pair of cylons is soon reduced to a singleton, but that doesn't stop Abigail from going for the full court press. They need to clear this floor ASAP.
The cylons do manage to bring their weapons up, but only manage to hit steam pipes and electrical conduit thanks to the keen reflexes of the Timberwolves! One of them is perforated in a shower of sparks, falling heavily to the decking, while the other one seems to shrug off some of the fire and presses the attack, switching to autofire!!
A couple of clear hits from Gage's rifle smack square into one of the cylon's chest, earning a grunt of satisfaction from the engineer. He shifts his gaze -- and his weapon -- to the second one, after a quick shoulder-check to make sure nothing's creeping up behind them.
It seems as if Liv was not the only one aiming for the chest of the Cylon, so her aim drops and the fire from all of them drops it quickly.
One success though is not all success as the other Cylon is now pressing in on them tighter and harder. Her cover is hugged to as she checks her weapon and shifts position to keep a watch out of periphery to still keep them covered, and once her eyes return to the prize, another rapid fire of rounds is aimed for the approaching Cylon.
Fire from the centurion aiming at her scatters off the wall, but none hits her- thankfully. And her return fire hits it in return. Charlie lets out a relieved breath. "Everyone good?" It's too busy to risk a look at the others. "I suggest we move fast once this is done- we've lost the element of surprise."
As the cylon boss is dealt with, the heavy sounds of metal footsteps can be heard from the direction of the factory floor, as the first cylon guard closes in on the area with its weapon at the ready.
"Let's move, we're behind you, Wagner." Not in the, 'Hey, nice to meet you, meatshield' sort of way, just the 'You're the first in line'. Okay, is that the same thing? Whatevs, in they go! (Abigail)
"I guess, less stealth, more, let's frakking do this quick, eh?" Gage suggests, as the second cylon falls. He keeps his rifle up, angling down the corridor for any others approaching as he shifts his cover to the other side of the corridor. "Frak. One coming in on our rear, watch your six," he calls.
It's not hard to know that this will not be all, and if it is there is some form of luck on their side. That never happens!
A slight step, Liv is almost about to leave cover as she checks over the others in a sweep and then casts her gaze back once more, shifting her position quickly to call out simultaneously with Gage, but her words were more like. "Frak! One more at our 6, let's make it match it's friends." Do Cylons have friends?
When Liv calls out that they have one more, Charlie halts in starting to move out. The woman rotates on her heel and steps out into the corridor, past the others. It gives her a more wide-open shot and the ability to shoot past them without, y'know, risking hitting them. "Soon as he drops," she notes for their benefit, "I'll take off ahead... Try to make sure we have no surprises around the corner."
With the known guards dealt with, the Timberwolves take a half beat to catch their wits. The sounds of the factory continue on like it was an ordinary day, but whatever alerted the Cylon Boss to activity, likely alerted whatever it was communicating with as well.
Abigail says, "Let's move. This is, I think, the calm before the storm, let's cut bait and get the hell where we need to be and then get out."
Gage keeps his own rifle up and alert for incoming. "Ready to move when you are," he mutters. Apparently he's waiting for Wagner to lead the way with her keen eyeballs.
Liv is nowhere near holstering her weapon quite yet, not unless it is necessary. She'll push a button with her pinky if she has to.
Charlie, Gage, and Abigail are all cast a glimpse and she nods as well, ready to move with a quickness.
Up around the corner, the bulkhead to the command centre can be seen. Whatever was guarding it, lays on the deck grating behind the timberwolves. After a few moments, the door is opened, and the wolves have the run of the computer banks. The walls inside the command centre are festooned with monitors with video feed of verious areas in the complex including all the production facilities for building centurions. One monitor depicts what looks like a cargo elevator filled with dormant centurions, with one centurion trying to work some sort of mechanism as it moves up towards the surface.
Once they're inside, Charlie stops by the door to guard the others as they come through. She's got her rifle to her shoulder, watching over their ingress. "Should we just, y'know... open fire on the consoles? Since they already know we're here."
Liv remains as cover, every few dozen feet moving to sweep an arctic stare out and across their surroundings as well as pause in a moment of her own silence to listen, but never for too long as to fall behind and leave a deep breadth of opening between her team and herself.
Passing Charlie and hearing her words though, for once, Liv smiles, although it is fleeting. "I like how she thinks." And when the monitor is in view a roll of tongue moves over a canine, a gesture that displays her thoughts.
And Liv without a rocket launcher and straight visual... and time.
Gage, no technician, glances at the consoles, then gives a shrug of his shoulders. "That's way to disable them. Gotta figure out how to flood the thing, first though," he adds, as he reloads his rifle, before taking up a position on the other side of the door from Charlie, watching for incoming.
Abigail moves into the room, scanning the panels as she tries to identify the right one...trusting the rest of the team to do what needs to be done, if opposition should show up. The faster she works, the less likely that is to happen. So in she goes.
As Abigail's manic fingers fly over the keyboard, she's able to get into the master airlock control. With the press of a button, airlocks all over the facility are at her command. One by one, they begin popping open, flooding different areas with sea water that will take months to pump out, and even longer still to repair the delicate circuits that the salt water is ruining as it floods in. Brilliantly, though, Abigail remembers that they don't have their rebreathers with them, so leaves the path to AIRLOCK 23 alone. The Cylons may have a torso bay intact, but the rest of the facility is in ruins, and after a few moments, the main frame flickers out, as to many of the monitors. The lighting dims, and it seems only a matter of time before the entire facility is shut down.
Abigail looks up, as the power dims, staying up just long enough to allow them to see that the work was done...mostly, "Tomak, you still feel like blowing things up? I would hate for you to have all your hard work go to waste." because he did mine their entire path back with explosives. And so, Abigail goes...and if they're very lucky...they get the last of the way to airlock 23, before they escape. If not, they just escape.
"I think he should get his big kaboom," Charlie offers as her own two-cents, helping cover the way out. It may be a bit breathless because, well, when you've set mines, flooded a place, and blown a few Centurions to bits... You don't hang out to talk about the weather. You run, checking over your shoulder the whole time. At the airlock, she's quick to pack and gear up.
There's a ready tension to Gage as he keeps an eye -- and an ear -- out for any more approaching cylons. "Always, Walker, always." That seems like it's a predictable answer to that particular question. As they head back towards the airlock, he bends to each of the explosives, setting the timer, counting in between sets to make sure they pack a punch at the same time. He's still counting as he suits up with the scuba gear.
The signal to the Enyo is met with the coded reply, and as the Timberwolves swim away, there is a wave of concussive force that leaves their ears ringing once they're out in the water. Minutes feel like hours waiting for the submarine to come around again, but soon enough, the dim light in the distance can be seen, and the Wolves are able to board it without difficulty. Once the airlock is drained, the Captain comes in, "So there was stiff resistance, hey? We heard you scuttle the station, but we were hopeful that you would be able to clear it. So much could be learned if it were in tact. But, such is the fortunes of war.. Were you able to gain any intelligence? Shipment routings, supply schedules, movement patterns?"
"Time to go," Gage says with a sharp gesture. He's still counting, making sure the others get out of the airlock first once it's repressurized. Underwater, he signals: three, two, one -- before the concussive wave rolls over them. He might be grinning behind his scuba gear, who can tell. Certainly, by the time they get back to the airlock he's at ease, happy to strip out of his scuba gear.
"No time. We were fighting our way to the control center. They had the whole place working on making more centurions." Abigail doesn't remember that being part of the mission plan. She thought it was blow the shit up. So they blew the shit up, "This can't be the only one...they have to bring them out somehow."
An underwater explosion. That's one for the record books. Charlie just sort of stares at the airlock they leave before they begin swimming away, moving to the exfil to be picked up by the sub. She allows Abigail to give the report while she begins peeling out of the additional gear and her wet suit. The woman squeezes excess water from her braids. "I was on recon a while back... I'm betting Picon has become one of their primarily facilities for production in general."
"Well, you all returned in one piece, yes? And gave the toasters a bloodied nose in the process. I'm sure this will stifle their reinforcments on Picon for some time," The captain seems pleased enough. "Come, I have ambrosia in the officer's mess," he says, leading the timberwolves through the cramped corridor of the small ship. It's a very tight squeeze to fit everyone into the officer's mess, and a table folding has to take place. "Now, we drink to victory!"
Gage seems equally happy to leave the debrief to those with higher rank than him. It means he gets to find somewhere probably-not-very-comfortable to hunker down and nap in for the long trip back.
Well, things were not going pear shaped, as it is so eloquently put. (Not a fan of pears, or the odd shape). Liv moves quickly with the team, keeping her position even as the trigger and the flooding of the Facility begins and the countdown right a long with it. The time is even going off in Liv's head like a metronome while they get back to their gear, secure their weapons and swim back to the ship only to be greeted by (oh Captain My) Captain..
Liv is the silent one, and her few words have only been out of necessity even now. The lightly distant look in her eyes as they cram into a small room shows her dislike of it as well as the evident thought process of... 'Want to kill more of them'.
Then a slow smile. Ambrosia. Perfect.