The Marines make their move to secure the refueling station.
Location: Frontier Fuel Station QTYM3
Related Scenes: None
Plot: Operation: Cat and Mouse
Scene Number: 258
Scene 258 - Frontier Fuel Station Qtym3
The Picon Navy Lieutenant on loan for retaking the fueling station called in the briefing for the Marine landing at the fueling station. "The Frontier Fuel station was built in what was considered the normal style of Asteroid building. A pair of engines on either side of the asteroid hold it stationary in position, only moving it when it needs to. There are two possible egresses for landing a team. The first is the primary entrance through the pilot's lounge at the west end of the station.." The large double decker building on this image: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/dd/54/2e/dd542e4c5e94841842ce6c5d8ff819b7.jpg
"We do not believe that the sattelite uplink is functioning, however, we have a pair of Raptors jamming it actively to keep the station in the dark and the Cylons out of contact with reinforcement."
"The second point of entry is behind the asteroid, where the Tyllium tanks are kept. This is a mechanics entrance, but is possibly where the greatest concentration of Cylons will be, as this is also where the fuel is located. I will leave it to the Sergeant on scene to decide the best path of entry."
"If there are no other question, you are dismissed." To where the Raptors are waiting to be loaded up to take the Marines out into the field.
Lyn is still not taking her inbound Raptor naps, instead she plunks down onto the bench on the Raptor and begins staring at nothing with her arms cradling her rifle and her jaw working now and then. With Wolves MIA at the moment, she is restless and wants to be looking for them. Orders are orders though.
Erin is loaded and ready to go. Carbine; scope; AP ammo; pistol sidearm; knife. And a somewhat-empty backpack with space to pick up whatever loot she can get her hands on. She is quiet and solemn for once. No quips, no sidelong glances or grins. Very serious -- even more than usua.
Abigail sits, as she usually does, at the rear/front of the raptor, closest to the pilot, moving through her usual routine, though this time, she's not only checking her equipment, she's also checking the EVA suit she's wearing. There's a bunch of them, one to a person, "We've only got a short while before we get to the west entry," because that's apparently how she decided they were going in, "So I would suggest suiting up now, rather than waiting until the last minute, especially if you don't have much experience. I can help you with whatever you need."
Unlike Lyn, Charlie is taking her inbound Raptor naps. She didn't when operation over Picon first began and she was rather twisted out of sorts about her home colony, but the sniper has settled into the routine of the mission and found her legs, as it were. This, at least, is not flying over familiar continents and landscapes. It's out to an asteroid. It could be any asteroid. It might as well just be any other mission. They could be over Aerilon for all she cares. The issue, however, is the EVA suit. It's not that she's unfamiliar or incapable of dealing with it... it's that the coupler at the neck makes her usual napping position not quite doable. In the end, she ends up just sort of sitting there, looking awkward. Like a cat made to pose for holiday photos. Entirely out of her element. With a carbine rather than her sniper rifle. No sniping on an asteroid. Which means Evan, at least, is free of spotter duty.
Speaking of the Scorpian; Calhoun is also free of serving pillow duty. The suiting up is advice served and followed, even if the helmet is left off for the time being. That can be put on once they reach the station. Until then, it's likely another story of pre-war exploits. Woe betide whoever is stuck on Evan's non-Charlie side. She's probably heard the story before anyway.
Lyn nods to Abigail and gets into her EVA suit. She's familiar enough with them, but she always dislikes the things. They make you slower, louder, and less alert in general. They make her cranky. But she puts it on anyway because, well, space is a vacuum.
Jos listens attentively, though he has a deck of triad cards in his hands: he's not even looking at them, just quietly shuffling them to keep his hands busy. Tucked back into the case and that put in his pocket, he rises and salutes when dismissed, then heads off to gear himself up. After he settles into the Raptor, he starts rubbing his hands together as if his fingers itch, "Frak it but I hate it when there's nothing to do with my hands."
On cue, Erin also puts herself into her EVA suit. Still, everything else? Just fine. Normal. Nice and quiet. Deathly quiet.
In the Raptor, Aleksander is strapped into his seat and silent, eyes closed but not sleeping. Between his lips is a cigarette, unlit at the moment though the moment they step off, that will probably change. At the mention of EVA suits though, the Tauron releases a long sigh and realizes that he won't be able to light up. He does begin the tedious process of suiting up but the unlit cig remains where it is. "Hate these damn things..." He mutters to himself as he wiggles into the protective gear.
With the decision made to go through the pilot's entrance, Lanval is finishing his working to get into the EVA suit in order to settle into the seat as he keeps his rifle at his side. He doesn't have many questions, but he moves a little so that Abigail may help him with his off-arm to get into the suit.
The Raptor approaches the station. On the east end of the station, one of the windows is splintered with what looks like a single shot through the glass to vent the atmosphere in the station. The power is still running at the station, perhaps off a solar source or off of some of the Tyllium itself. The two Raptors start their active jamming of the station while the insertion Raptor approaches to make the landing outside of the pilot's lounge. Neon letters on the wall announce:
D el i v e ring t h e F u el to M ove Exp ans ion
The Raptor comes in to make a landing at the edge of the ship sized bay and turns to open it's door for the Marines to exit, where the pilot's lounge door is still sealed and powered, a simple push panel to open it.
Abigail assists as needed, before she returns to going through her equipment, eyes moving from team member to team member, "As soon as we enter, we'll want to think about getting a good lay of the land. We will operate as if there is no atmo on the asteroid, as we did on the last mission, for those of you who were there. So that means not only working with your suits, but making sure you keep your patch kit handy and try to avoid putting more holes in the thing than it can easily self-repair. Once we're moving, we'll have the standard spread. recon front and back with a rover, the three of you decide amongst yourself, the rest of us moving in the middle. If you find a blocked door, I'll hand opening it."
Lyn glances at the neon letters and snorts, testing out the comm in the suit. "Such a cordial welcome. Remind me to carve my initials in a toaster's chest for that." She stands by with Rifle up to cover whoever is working the panel.
"So she looked at me and said, '
"So she looked at me and said, 'You call that a rash, check this out'..." Evan's story dies off as he looks up at Abigail and listens to the instructions. A small smirk touches his lips as his hand raises, "Question. If I have to take a piss... just do it in the suit, right?"
Erin just nods to Abigail. She checks her weapons one more time, and then gestures to herself. "I'll take the rear." And that's her decision. Ammunition in place; sidearm. Knife. Patch kit. Backpack for loot.
Abigail looks over, from where she's just finishing up with Lanval, glancing back at Evan, "It's just like a pilot's flight suit, Calhoun. Built in adult diaper. But feel free to see if you have the fortitude to survive the vacuum of space. I've got no horse in that race."
When the door slides open for the Marines to disembark, Aleksander waits his turn to step out onto the landing bay. He also notices the sign that the Cylons have managed to saboutage, a smirk appearing. As the others work on the door, he heads to the sign and looks at it for a couple of seconds. Then the Tauron raises his weapon and with the stock of his rifle, bashes in the letters 'D', 'i', and 'e'. With that done, he takes a few steps back and observes his work, pleased with himself.
"And some of you wonder why I nap," Charlie mutters, elbowing Evan as he poses his question. Or maybe it's entirely an accident as she begins checking over her gear. The seals on her suit are checked as she begins mumbling about how she'd rather be doing a HALO over Tauron than EVA on an Asteroid. Once people start disembarking. The lack of standard kit leaves her moving a bit awkwardly for the first few strides; it's not her usual buildout. "Where do you want me, Walker?" She snorts as she steps past Aleksander, opting instead to start getting a look over what she can see of the place without going too far ahead without express instructions.
Josua gives a calm nod to Abigail at the instructions, holding his assault rifle at the ready; and once the door slides open, he waits for recon to take the forward positions and then he exits and begins immediately looking around for trouble.
"Hayes is in the rear, Wagner point, unless you want to rock, paper, scissors it with Arda, the other roaming. Lanval, I hope you skipped a meal today. I have a feeling I know where you're going." Abigail gives the recon man a brief smile, that isn't quite friendly. But then, he hasn't been fond of her so, what do you expect?
Lyn gestures for Charlie to take the lead. She can be the roamer. "We should be expecting traps. They mined the area around it, which is basically trapping. So, yeah, move carefully."
"I'll take the wandering portion." Evan pipes in before casting a glance at Lyn, "By traps do you mean bombs or giant wooden planks with cheese on them?" The tone is meant to be light, to add a bit of brevity before things get to hell."
"I really should have taken those HVAC classes in school." Lanval offers quietly and dryly as he waits for the door to open, the lithe recon man waiting for Charlie to open the door. When she does, the entire inside of the lounge lights up as the flourescent lights built into the cieling flicker and warm to life. The interior of the lounge shows a few vending machines, if you're interested in two year old snack cakes and canned drinks.
There's also three bodies, well decomposed (proving that there is atmosphere in this room at least) to the point of being skeletal remains. Two are in flight suits beloning to the Picon military, one is of a minor hauling company.
That's not all, as there are also four Cylons in the room that are prepared, thanks to the knocking on the door, of the upcoming battle. The Cylons bloodstained plate is still showing the cheerful designs of the space fonted station, while there's a splattering of blood on the front of their armor. One of the Cylons is carrying a rifle, one has a pistol, one is carrying a massive wrench - and the last is armed with an electric welder.
From the rear of the column comes naught but silence. Erin was never a chatty person on mission, but she's even less so this time around. Something the matter? Probably not, but it's notable and a bit odd. She seems relaxed enough and focus, despite the change in her demeanor. ((Chilly!!))
Abigail, as she steps down from the raptor, finds her eyes drawn to Aleksander, "Are you trying to get us all killed, Davion?" Her voice is sharp across the comms, "Bear in mind, that you're going to be impeded by the mag boots, so try to move under cover as much as possible. And then, as she sees what's waiting for them, she raises her smg, "The welder first. The suits can't repair burn damage."
Lyn shifts inside quickly and drops down to one knee so people behind her can fire over her head. She aims for the welder-wielding Cylon.
The doors open and Charlie is quick to move to press herself to the wall just outside of them. "Four!" No, not the golf term. As in that's how many frakkin' targets they have. She's quick to snap Aleksander's way. "We don't go announcing ourselves." Clearly it was his breaking of the sign. This is why she's recon and he's not. Rifle to shoulder, she flips the safety and shifts to fire at the toasters.
"Sign was affecting morale." Was Aleksander's simple response as there are Cylons waiting to greet them, a quartet of shiny, metallic greeting party. He does brings his rifle up and moves into position where he isn't standing behind another fellow Marine, making sure his line of sight to the hostiles are clear. He takes aim at the Cylon wielding the electric welder first but it appears to be scooting side to side, making it difficult to target, so when a second Cylon, the one wielding the wrench comes charging directly towards him, he changes target and fires off a burst of rounds at that mechanoid.
Josua leans out a bit more then he should, but there's only so many people who can hug the door, so he's ready to leap back into safety if his shooting draws too much attention. But he sees the one with the rifle and lets the lead fly.
With the doors opening, Lanval is in the rear, so of course, a Cylon will try to take a pot shot at him. Raising his own rifle in turn, the recon soldier opens fire with his own rifle, looking to put down the Cylon before it can nail him,.
"Frak." Evan coughs out as he moves to drop to a knee instictively, then realizes in his suit that's less than a comfortable and easy move to make, leading him to sort of Stay Puff Marshmellow shuffle to an angle to start shooting at the Cylon with the shiny arc welder.
Maybe she was flat-footed. Maybe she was unlucky. Erin krak-krak-kraks at the oncoming Cylon, that somehow manages to bob and weave to the rear of the group, and fraaaaaak fry her. Literally. The Trash Panda goes down in a twitching, supine heap from the shock, her suit burned to a crisp.
Lyn fires off a burst from her rifle but the Cylon dodges nimbly and gets to Erin. Arda rolls out of the way, making room for others to come in, and then fires more aggressively at the maniacal bot.
"Cover Walker!" That may be the loudest that Lanval has spoken in a long time as the Marine continues to fire at the pistol-wielding Cylon, trying to keep it pinned down within the lounge so it can't get out here to attack.
"Take the frakin' thing down!" Evan barks out as he brings his rifle up to begin levelling blasts at the nearest Cylon with the Tazer that is having a field day with them.
Abigail's fire does absolutely nothing, but that will have to be the least of her worries, as she sees Erin take a hit and go down, and she shoves her way through whomever might be in her way, "Clear the road!" She's trying to get to the recon marine before the woman loses all of her oxygen, hand already pulling out her patch kit. "Frak me, Hayes. I'm coming."
"Oh frak morale," Charlie mutters from behind the cover of the door. "I think we're well past worrying about mocking signs." But either way, she's focusing on the Cylon with the rifle either way. It was shooting at her and even though it didn't hit her, well, she's not keen on letting it have anything to do with anyone else. There is half an eye for the one with the taser. Especially after seeing what it did to Hayes. The Piconese woman already has half a foot inside the pilot's lounge, ready to tumble in if need be... if the EVA suit would even allow her to make such a maneuver.
Josua's lead flies, but most of it hits the cover-- only a minor wound is inflicted on the fracking toaster. "Frak, Chilly!" When Erin goes down. He moves to take Abigail's place at cover to keep them off of her as she patches up the fallen.
Two slugs impact the Cylon charging right at Aleksander, the first one punching through the armor plating and into the circuits within the chest cavity, the second one piercing all the way through the midsection into the mechanical spinal cord, severing it. This causes the Cylon to pitch forward into the ground, skittering to a stop a couple of feet in the direction it was moving and shutting it down. With the other Cylon weaving its way through the shower of bullets, the Tauron is already changing targets to the threat that is amongst them. Taking aim, he triggers a burst to try to take this one down as well before it can do anymore damage to the group.
Better now, but still in a bit of shock, Erin scrambles weakly as Abigail patches her up. " ... frak." She reaches out slowly for her carbine, and tries to get a grip on it. So she can try to get into action. Fail.
The Cylon with the welder seems to be otherworldly in the way it dodges every shot Lyn fires at it with ease. She's grateful when others bring it down, and turns her attention to the final of the four.
Abigail moves, working that patch kit with all her years of experience, quick, efficient, working for maximum preservation of Erin's O2 supply. She's positioned herself so that she's providing body cover for the recon marine, "Stay down, your body needs to a minute to recover. Don't worry, plenty for you to do yet."
"Don't. Frakkin'. Touch us!" Evan shouts out as he plasters the Cylon with a trio of Rifle Rounds at what equates to near point blank range before spitting. Damnit. He's in an EVA and it splatters on the bottom of his mask. Grumbling, he turns to raise up his rifle again. "Where we at back there Walker?"
Abigail says, "She's not dead. "
Lanval notices the amount of fire heading into the lounge, and he holds his own. There's still a bigger fight to come, as he checks his rifle in the meantime, the Marine giving a little frown of concern as he glances to where Abigail is treating Erin.
Jos wasted bullets, really, but someone was down and needed covering fire. But at least the toaster went down. "Hayes all right, Staff Sergeant? Need help getting her back to the raptor or --?"
With the welder wielding Cylon now taken care of, Aleksander turns his attention to where the two Cylons armed with pistols were only to see one shooting from it's covered position. The Tauron quickly drops to a knee after seeing the mechanoid aiming at him now and fires his weapon, attempting to intimidate it back deeper into cover instead of having free reign at hitting him.
Wait- shit, the taser one was coming for her? That frakker! Charlie is too focused on making sure the one with the rifle doesn't get to Abigail as she tends to Erin, so she has to rely on her squadmates. Which is why, well, the Timber Wolves do what they do. Between Aleksander and Evan, Wagner doesn't have to be too greatly concerned. The canner falls to pieces before it gets near her and she's able to kick parts aside as she starts to move into the lounge. "Thanks, boys," she mutters behind her. "We're almost clear." Which means no more past the one that she can see."
Abigail remains hunched over Erin, still blocking her from attack, still using every moment the Wolves can buy her to make certain that, as best it can be with her repairs, the woman's suit is still intact, "Alright, Hayes, let's try to get you up. If you're good, let's go. If not, nothing says you can't go curl up in the raptor."
The lounge is a wreck, sprayed down with the fresh weapons fire within. The drink vending machine took several rounds, several bottles of soda spilling their lifeblood onto the floor in a rainbow of sticky colors. The snack machine likewise took several hits. The bright lights of the room go out, and the whole area is washed in an amber glow of emergency lights. If the intelligence was right, there is still a platoon sized unit of Centurions still somewhere within the station. The opposite door of the lounge is still sealed and warns of 'Loss of Atmosphere '.
Lyn can't seem to hit the broad side of a barn tonight, but when the last Cylon goes down she moves to help people get in through the outer door so they can close it and see if the room repressurizes.
A duty board is on one of the walls, showing it's last delivery schedules on a cork board, advertisments for employement for hauling and pilots before the war, and a calender of Biscayne Bay surfing still on April of 2235. Abigail or Aubrey is probably somewhere in there - just not Miss Swimsuit April.
Erin snaps her eyes open, and holds out her left hand to Abigail. "I'll be fine," she croaks, her right hand grasping her carbine tightly. "Let's keep going. Not going to hold people back." She seems not too badly off. There's a lot of hair in that EVA helmet of her that seems to be in the wrong place.
"Walker, lounge is clear. Ahead on your orders?" Charlie has moved to the next door, but waits for orders to go on ahead. She's not going to do anything, however, until everyone is settled and Abigail has given the go ahead. Whether the room re-pressurizes or not.
Aleksander rises from his crouched stance when the last Cylon is taken down, the pistol shot from the mechanoid going high and wide as it is blasted from multiple Marines. With all the hostiles taken care of in this room, the Tauron checks his weapon and doesn't take the time to reload as he still has more than half of a clip remaining.
Oooh, a Bikini poster, that really belongs in Evan's bunk but he presses on regardless a bit, carefully stepping around a spillage of soda so that his mag boots don't get affected in the least by the substance. "Be honest over there Davion. You just tested the shit capabilities of your suit, didn't you."
With the toasters down and Hayes on her feet, Jos nods and waits for recon to head forward, then follows along with gun up and ready.
"Move ahead, Wagner, the rest follow, Davion, stay in the back with Arda." Abigail helps Erin up, before she moves back into position, "Make sure you keep an eye on your oxygen monitors, I do have spares, but I need to know in advance if we need to switch out."
Abigail moves out, pausing, though, as she passes the calendar, taking a second to rifle though it, and yep, there she is. She lets the page fall back, moving out. No souvenirs today, save in memory.
The raccoon Marine, the smallest of all, finds herself back in the center of the group. It's probably best; her senses are probably not as sharp as they ought to be put into a place of importance. Erin soldiers on, undaunted and only a little frizzle-fried.
"If you had asked me the first few days of this Cylon Rebellion on Leonis, I would've said you are right, Calhoun." Aleksander says with an amused smirk as he moves with the squad, rifle pointed downward for now with no hostiles present as the safety for his weapon remains switched off. "Still uncomfortable as frak though, wearing these suit." He then gives Abigail a nod when the positions are set, waiting for the others to walk past until it's only Lyn and he starts walking again, keeping pace with her.
Lyn grunts at Davion as he is assigned to the rear guard with her. She reloads her rifle and keeps her head on a swivel to make up for the limited vision range of the helmet of the EVA suit.
Since he's already in the rear, Lanval glances over at Erin, a hand on the fellow small recon soldier. "You alright?" he asks her quietly and sniffs. "Medium rare." he comments dryly, while waiting for the door to open.
"Man wasn't meant to walk in space, that's why Davion. Same reason flying is an abomination unto the Gods." Evan affirms to the man as he moves forward. With Charlie on point, Evan isn't too far behind. He glances back though to check on Hayes offering back. "If Hayes is up and moving, someone remind her that she still owes me 500 cubits payable when we get back to the ship."
"Copy that, Walker." While people adjust position, Charlie checks her rifle and reloads the magazine. She glances up and flashes a brief grin to Evan as se spots him nearby. Then it's back to the door and a slow breath taken; one hand on the stock of her rifle and the other out to the panel. "On your toes, ladies." Open sesame!
When the door opens, the Centurions have already set up in position in cover and open fire immediately on the Marines. They were prepared and alerted by the earlier battle and had moved quickly to fire.
Oh, frak. Josua tries very hard to dodge to the side when he sees the trap laid right before them, "Look out!" But as he does he tries to get off some lead.
When the Centurions appear on the other side of the door, Aleksander is only quick enough to train his weapon on one of the toasters, not enough time for him to move out of the way of the incoming fire. He can only pray to the Gods that the bullets coming at him miss while the ones he fires while his hit.
"Left." Evan snaps as he slides to the door, moving to the right of the door. The Left may have been meant for Charlie in front of him but the damned suits don't do a good job of letting him speak. Even as he does however, the rifle comes up and from the corner of his eye he notes the matched direction towards the same target; a bit of humored smirk touching his lips as a trio of bullets rips off.
Abigail cannot really get to cover, though she does try to move out of the way of the rest of the team, doing her best to, with any luck offering them some suppression. She is really not the rifleman they are looking for.
Lyn isn't aware of the ambush so it's pretty much a surprise when she manages to dodge the fire from not one but two of the Cylons lying in wait. Then she shoots one of them to pieces with a burst of rifle fire that sends one of her shots through that red eye in its head.
When the trap is sprung, Erin leaps out of the cone of fire. And like everyone else, she opens up on same poor robot. It seems a poor trap, of course, as several of the Centurions end up like so much rubble. Once she's moved, she hunkers down in whatever available cover she can find, and sets up to take out whatever's left.
Calhoun may be her 'spotter,' but the two actually train together in other ways. Charlie is actually responding even before he speaks. It might be why she's not quite able to move clear and out of the way of the incoming fire- she's moving to the opposite side of the door; clearing it for the rest of the team so she's not, well, dead center in their way of firing on the damned things. What it does do, however, is at least allow her to fire on one of the centurions in concert with Evan.
It's, well, not unlike the mission briefing. A full platoon of centurions. And that means continuing to fire, and hoping that they all make it through before the suits give out. Ah, for enough distance for a grenade or two. Oh, it's the simple things Abigail misses.
A lime drink, with sugar cane club soda and rum. That's the simple thing that Evan misses. That and apparently Cylon's as his shots pelt off the target but don't stick well. "Frakkity frak frak!"
While bullets zip past Aleksander, his return fire is lethally accurate. Even though two rounds barely penetrated the armor plating, the first one punches right through and into the chest cavity, permanently downing the toaster. The Tauron is already moving and finding cover, taking a knee to decrease his profile before taking aim again. He sees that a couple of the canners are moving as well and chooses the one that is standing and shooting, an easier target to knockdown. His intent is to help cull the numbers on the hostile side to make the battle more manageable.
With the Centurions opening fire, the second wave makes it's way around the corner to open fire, their machineguns opening fire on the Marines in the hallway as they move towards cover.
Lanval moves to fire while Lyn takes to cover, the two recon soldiers criss-crossing their fire to engage a Centurion firing upon them.
The bullets go flying, andfrankly Josua isn't even sure if its his lead or anyone elses that landed, but toaster after toaster goes down, "Take that, fraking toasters." And he leans back into cover then and prepares to shoot again.
As the Centurion that he's firing upon falls, Evan's rifle immediately swings to the next as he snaps another burst of shots off. A quick snarky comment; his usual forte, fails to come this time.
From behind cover, Erin takes a breath, pops up and then unloads a burst on a selected target. Krak-krak-krak. Like the last, the Centurion catches fire from the Crispy Critter, but this one takes a bullet through the helmet. That brings a small smile to her face, as she ducks back down re-sets, and readies herself to pick and take out another target.
"Later," Charlie chides Evan when he starts calling out 'frak' repeatedly. Though, if able to be seen, she's smirking behind her helmet. The woman is able to get safely behind the edge of the door and avoid the hail of fire they're under. She leans out whenever there's enough of a lull to fire back, but the one she's aiming at is just quick enough to avoid each burst. The woman swears under her breath in turn. "What the frak sort of servos did they fit that thing with?!"
This seems to be working much better for her, yes indeed Don't try to actually hit anything, Walker, just focus on making it harder for them to hit. or something, or make them better targets. Or whatever, doesn't matter. Just keep doing what you're doing.
Apparently the Centurions have no qualms with using explosives in the crowded hallway. The pair of remaining Centurions drop their rifles as the Marines move forward and dropping their chest plates, expose a pile of explosives latched to their chests, starting to arm them to explode and take out the whole hallway.
Lyn and Lanval switch their fire, trying to take down one of the Centurions before they can set off their bombs and blow a hole in the side of the station.
Relying on his cover to keep him safe, Aleksander appears not too distracted by the rounds that impact what he is behind, instead focusing on his own shots on the Centurion that he has selected. The first round was off its mark but the second one once again punches through the torso of the canner. Jerkily, it spasms and collapses as if its legs suddenly unpowered. The threatening red eye fades into darkness as the toaster now lies motionless. Turning his attention to the remaining Cylons, Aleksander sees that something is changed, they are no longer shooting with their arm mounted machine guns. Instead they brought bigger toys out to play. "Frak!" The Tauron curses and immediately leaves cover, standing up and focusing on his aim instead of staying safe.
And then, there are the explosives. Erin blinks. Crap. Better take out the toasters hard and fast before the entire party gets really nasty. Up she goes, holding her carbine close to her and spending that split-second to make sure her bullets count. Defense be damned.
"... Frraaaa---" Josua just aims and lets out a full stream of bullets to try to take the cylons out and maybe save theroof from collapsing on them.
The shots rip into the Centurion as Evan's rifle finishes the shots, the gunpowder that usually gives h im the wonderful thrill in the spine unable to be smelled because of the suits. "Yeah...." He says as the room looks clear. "That just happened." Reaching down, he grabs his clip to switch out. "Walker. We got a situation up here."
Cue The Who: Yeeeeeeah! Erin admires the bulletholes in the machine. She has a look in her eye that contains something of smug satisfaction. Of the hot taste of victory. All of that. Then, she plops back down, reloads, and winces as she realizes that her skin has been fried in a very private place. Damned abdomens.
Abigail drops her weapon, back onto the strap on her shoulder as she sees the two centurions go down. But that doesn't stop the mines, not if they're smart. And centurions are, if nothing else, smart. She moves forward, stepping over various and sundry cylon parts, "Let me get in there."
Josua steps over to the side to let the demolitions expert handle these things, and he takes up watch in case other cylons show up instead. He's going to be very quiet and unobtrusive while bombs are involved.
"Pretty sure Walker's aware of the damn situation," Charlie mutters. At some point in things, she did get clipped, a bit, across her side. Enough that, oh, the suit is slowly venting a bit. She notices the gauge on her oxygen and swears quietly, leaning back as Abigail moves to start tending to the mines. The Piconese woman just moves ahead to keep an eye out while taking out her patch kit to quietly work on her suit. Nope, she doesn't speak up about that small hole. She'll have it fixed up and keep an eye on things. Multitaskng!
The gamble pays off for Aleksander when he chose to focus on aiming and staying steady when firing another burst instead of staying ducked behind the cover he was using. All three rounds find their mark, the first two punching right through the toaster's head while the third one tears into the torso section. There is no doubt to the status of that toaster, but the gifts they remain behind are still there. There is no need for him to call out warnings about the explosives as Abigail is already on the move.
The Centurions at least didn't wire the bombs up to dead circuit switches. Abigail is able to figure out the circuitry pretty easily to disable the two Cybombs. After the firefight, there are no more Centurions coming up to charge into the battle.
"No getting snippy because you zigged and didn't zag." Evan comments towards Charlie, taking a step forward to peek at the suit's condition. "You're fine."
Abigail makes quick work of the two mines, though, anyone who knows her, can see the moment where she considers whether or not she can take them, but then, she rises, "Alright, let's move out and secure the station. And if we find a convenient airlock, we can start clearing these hallways. Keep the bodies in easy reach of the raptor crews to retrieve for burial."
"Of course it is," Charlie responds, swatting at Evan as she gets the patch in place. "Else I'd have said something, wouldn't I?" The rest of the patch kit is put away and she gets her rifle checked over and reloaded. "Looks clear ahead," she calls back once at the next turn.
"Sarge?" Erin holds up a hand from where she's kneeling. "Would you mind if I made it back to the Raptor? I'm -- " She frowns. " -- I think my skin is leaking." She winces. "And I don't think I'll be wearing underpants for a week." She puts her free hand on the burned area of her suit, where the patch is.
Abigail looks back, "Hayes, if you need to go back, you're cleared to. Back the way we came, as that way should be cylon free. The crew will give you the help you need. And there should be a new suit in there."
As the unit goes through the rest of the station, there's no signs of Cylons on board. An abandoned transport sits down in the hangar area, half repaired, but never finished.
At Abilgail's orders, "Yes, Staffy." Josua heads through the hall and spreads out to check all the corners and he ends up in the repair bay, and there finding one of the tanks, he leans in and puts his ear against it, then he back saway and holds his gun up, "There's something active here!" He calls over his radio, "In the tank!" Pause, "I don't know if its a toaster or survivor!" He bangs on the tank once to try to get a response, "Faint response." Its really just an echo.
Lyn volunteers to go with Erin back to the Raptor.
When Josua calls out possible contact or activity, Aleksander quickly brings his weapon up and quickly moves in the direction of the tank. But after seeing that it is the fuel tank they were here for, he quickly lowers his weapon. He just stares for a moment, perhaps at a loss of words, "You heard a possible survivor in the tank? In... /there/? If it's a Cylon, it would've already blasted its way out by now." The Tauron didn't hear anything himself so he just stands there as is, waiting to see if the team leader wants them to investigate further.
Abigail, hearing Josua's call, moves in his direction, joining Alexander, eyes scanning the tank to see if there's an access port she can check. "I'm not sure how anything could even get into a tyllium tank, but let me see what I can do." She looks back, "The rest of you, finish your work, secure anything valuable, and then let's head back to the raptor."
"I don't know if its full or not. But I heard something in it." asserts Jos, tapping the butt of his gun against it again, "And I am not going to blast into fuel. I like not blowing up, Davion. I once was tasked with sniping a fuel-air bomb we had -- no, that's not a story we tell." This 'clan-not-clan' mentality he is trying to maintain is difficult. But he shrugs.
While the others are discussing what to do, the ECO comes running down to the repair bay. "Sergeant," It's Clutch, Abigail will recognize the Amazonian blonde that stands almost taller than some of the male Marines. "We have a report of a Raider flight coming in. We need to go." she reports, waiting for the acknowledgement before she's jogging back towards the Raptor.
At Clutch'e appearance and the woman's report, she nods, "Whatever's in there is going to have to stay in there. You heard the woman. Back to the raptor, all of you, double time. I do not want to be here if they decide taking out the station is the final solution."
Evan hears some of the banter being offered, eyes narrowing some as he shakes his head. "By valuable, did you mean the bikini poster back in the lounge? Cause I'm calling dibs if it's on our extraction list."
"Aye, Staff Sergeant." With that, Jos is padding back to the raptor.
Abigail says, "Welcome to it, Calhoun. I'll even sign it for you. And get Banshee to do you a solid too.""
"What, the photo I gave you after Triad wasn't good enough?" Charlie shoulders her rifle once they're given the order to head back, taking the rear on the way out as they do the about-face maneuver. "Figures." She's at least keeping pace with everyone, so the suit was, indeed, undamaged enough.
"There's no such thing as too much blackmail material." Evan quips to Charlie as he is only a step ahead of her. "And since you won't let me use that photo for... well, we'll talk about that later."
No arguments from Aleksander as he wasn't going to play detective on guessing what is in the tyllium tank. Turning around, the Tauron heads back towards the Raptor that is waiting their return, keeping his eyes open for anything of value on the way back to the landing bay.
Jogging through the station, Josua makes it back to the raptor and is in and strapped in all efficiently. All business with the escaping thing.
The team, perhaps more the worse for wear than they might like, but less than they expected, make it back through the station. The burial detail will have to wait, however, as they move double time. Not even time to take anything of value. Save for a single calendar, now two years out of date. Because that's how the wolves roll.