PHD 232: Silent Night
Silent Night
Summary: A routine shuttle experiences a catastrophic failure.
Date: PH232 (06 November 2009)
Related Logs: Warm Hearth
Players:
Cass..Aggie..Jason..Waite..Ezra..Roland..Neha..Sito..Jericho..Adriana..Capriel..Tombs..NPCs..

Space, Solon II's Orbit
IC Time: PH 232, approximately 21:49:24



Everyone all nice and strapped in, Grace is just finishing her last minute checks, while Lifer's taking a brief look over a few readouts but everything is reading green for them. Nothing like the pre flight shit to get someone going. Currently their passenger list consists of Major Cass, and his grandson, sitting next to one another- and the Dentist. A motely crew to be sure.

"Kharon, this is Grace, we're green to take off and ferry the Major over and back." she'll wait for confirmation a look passed over to Lifer for the moment. "How we're looking Hoss." The Eco in question, simply gives a thumbs up "Aces.." muttered back.
"I cannot believe I'm being called to repair a chip in some over polished Caprican dentist's molar." Dr. Beckett grouses in her corner of the raptor. She shakes her head, frowning, and adjusts her lab coat over her uniform. Chip, exposed nerve. It's all semantics when you're a cranky Lieutenant from Sag.

The the green given, there's the simply clicks and flips going on at the controls before the tow along begins, leaving the pilots oddly silent enough. Cass however seems to be watching the Dentist and in turn Ezra is looking from the boy, over to the woman. A slight chuckle there as a hand reaches to tussle his grandkid's hair. "Well, consider it a nice workin day- Doubt you see many people, Doctor.." How many Dentists do you know about that see work regularly on a battlestar anyway. Wait-don't answer that.

[Into the Wireless] A voice of one of the raptor pilots comes over the comms, "Kharon, this is Grace. We're green to take off and ferry the Major over to the Hestia and back. Request permission to launch."

[STC] Neha says, "Grace, this is Kharon. Permission granted."

"The amount of pillow biting these people do? I work all the time." Aggie's reply is somewhat clipped, and a little bitchy, but that's all in the tone. She glances briefly at the child, and watches him for a moment, then looks away. "Could we get this show on the road, please? I do have plans for the evening."

The call is granted, Tow given- and soon enough they'll be shot into space. However The Major's face is focused on the woman, before he's looking back over to little Cass. "Earmuffs." to which the child is moving to place his hands over his ears "Watch with the frakkin' language." That said he taps the boy's shoulder to get him to lower. "WHat's on your plate, Lieutenant, if I might ask?"

"If he knows what that means, it's too damn late, sir." Aggie uses the title against her will. Her eyes go to the viewport as the raptor catches a tow and a lift up to the deck. "Dinner with my husband." That's said in such a way as to suggest further questions would be unwelcome. A couple of the marines in back exchange a look.

Ezra raises a brow, but nods his head for a moment, all the same he's watching his kid now as he is not about to ask what dinner with the husband rightly entails. "Jeremiah here is getting to see a Battlestar for the first time. He's heard plenty of em, seen em port, but never has been on one. Figure it'd be a nice treat for the kid, while I chat with their platoon's CO.." as if the dentist cared.

Aggie takes subtle hold of her seat restraint as the raptor shudders when it takes off, the boxy beast headed out into the stars. "Are you going to use junior as a paperweight while you talk? In my experiences, marines have worse in their vocabulary than pillowbiting."

"He's going to take a tour, while we talk. Already have it worked out with their CO." Simple, as in don't push on that. The Raptor shudders and it seems not to affect the Major any. Instead there's one look passed over to the boy- and then right back towards Aggie. "So a chipped crown huh?" or molar-something like that. "How's it happen?"

"He was probably smoking the XO's pole and cracked it on a decorative piercing. How the frak should I know?" The dentist's question is what you might call abrasive.

"Lieutenant." A sharp bark back, before he's looking over to Cass. "Don't ever repeat that- You're grandmother would come back from the grave and kill me." Though it is unlikely that Cass will ever say something like that at all in the first place. Mainly, because he doesn't talk. At all.

The chastisement from Ezra does finally coax a small smile to Aggie's lips. The dentist settles back in her seat, and preens her hair briefly before she crosses her legs, and glances over. "Boy has to learn sometime."

Ezra stares for moment, before he is shaking his head. "Sometime, not now." Needless to say he doesn't want his grandson to learn the birds and bees from Kharon's Dentist. There's a deep breathe before he's looking back to the pilots for a wee bit. "How're we doing Lieutenant." a better question, than prying more into pillow biting or such.

The pilot calls back, "Won't be long, sir." There's a pause before she calls up the outgoing transmission, right one cue. There's a brief exchange between Grace and lifer, then:

[Into the Wireless] Grace pipes up over the comms, this time addressing Hestia's CIC. "Hestia, this is Foxbat-5. We are on approach, ETA 2 and a half minutes. Cargo includes the CMC CO from the Kharon, along with requested medical crew. Request permission to land."

Ezra grumbles softly, as he leans back into his seat. Nothing like silence for two minutes-that is what he is hoping for. There's a grin given back to Cass for a moment as he leans in and tickles the ribs of the boy. "Almost there bucko."

[Into the Wireless] Hestia's comms operator replies evenly, "Foxbat-5 you are clear for landing. Please touch down and wait for a tow. We'll see you in just a few moments."

Ezra sighs, as he looks back towards the Lieutenant in the driver seat, before he's chuckling back towards the Dentist. "Make us sound so official." A beat as he's reaching for his strap buckles. "Alright get ready to land kiddo-Last stop." Apparently the Major is ready to get off this beast.

Aggie shakes her head. "He doesn't talk much, does he?" She sounds like she admires that trait in the little one.

The raptor's speed drops briefly, a chug that's hard enough to jerk the seat restraints. It's barely two seconds before there's a loud, hollow sounding WHUMP! and the raptor jerks forward. Anyone not in a seat restraint would be thrown to the floor hard enough to seriously bruise. Alarms sound, and the interior flashes with warning lights on the console.

"Frak!" Grace's usually unflappable demeanor is shaken for just a moment when her eyes scan the console. "Lifer, I'm showing failures on the propulsion and fuel lines. My readout on fuel and hydraulics is completely blanked." She swaps to ships comms and calls back, "Major, hang tight, we need a moment to—"

Grace is interrupted by Lifer. "We have a breach. The temperature is dropping, oxygen venting."

"Get the patch kit, find that leak!" Grace orders, and Lifer hops to it, neither of the crew wearing their helmets. Neither stops to find them, not yet. Grace reaches for the zipper of her suit, hands fast on the fasteners. Her eyes are on little Cass after a glance at the readouts. The raptor is dead in the water.

"Nope. There's-" however there is no time to react save now he's moving to unbuckle the kid. "Shit- Someone got an air mask?" that's his first bit, he's offering. After all you hear breach and venting- best bet would be pilots, so that is where he;s trying to move the boy towards them, before, well before everything is sucked out and completely gone. There's a brief glance to Grace as if to give some order- Eyes then to the boy in his arms. "I love you son.. I'm sorry.."

Grace struggles out of her flightsuit as the cabin of the raptor's temperature drops, easily felt as precious seconds tick by. "Help me get him into the suit, Major." Her words are halfway between a request, an order, and an apology. She holds the suit and tugs it up around little Cass' feet, after some trouble getting her boots off. Flightsuits weren't meant to be taken off that quickly. "Lifer! Get a SAR on the horn!"

He's already on it by the time his pilot calls out. Lifer speaks rapidly into the comms.

[Into the Wireless] Fox-5's ECO comes over the comms, "Hestia, Fox-5. Require immediate emergency rescue. Hull is compromised." Lifer is a man of few words.

"You can do it, be a big man for granpa.." The Major is urging out, as already his breath-fleeting is seen in the coldness of the hull. There's not a glance back over to the Dentist- as he is busy trying to insure the last of his family-survives. Arms are moves to be wrestled into her own arm holes, even as she's having trouble getting out. "Hurry-" rest choked out, as the Major is keeping his gaze on the Silent Cass. "Almost there buddy.."

[Into the Wireless] Hestia's comms operator says, "Foxbat-5, a SAR bird is being dispatched to your location. ETA 2 minutes."

Grace pulls the zipper up on the suit as the temperature inside the vessel reaches physically uncomfortable levels. Oxygen now scarce, it's hard to say whether the temperature or the lack of oxygen is what really does them in first.

Lifer continues to search for the breach, applying quick patches as fast as he can, forgoing even his own flight helmet, risking himself to apply the patches before it's too late for the others aboard.

Ezra is hurrying to shove down the helmet get the seal down on his scion, before he's moving to sit back. One hand moving over his throat for a second and in slow, scratching motion. Labored breaths will cease soon enough, but the chill is getting to the old man. Despite that- he's going to see the kid has a chance- He has to.

All this done before he's moving to sit on the floor of the Raptor, and look down.

Grace fits her flight helmet onto the ridiculously oversize flight suit, numb fingers fumbling with the fastenings. The collar is too big, and the seal isn't locking into place. She does the best she can, cradling the boy as she slides to her knees next to the Major, both trying to protect the child as their oxygen vents, and the cold drags them down into an unwilling slumber.

Lifer drops last, scrambling for his helmet when it becomes clear to the man he's not going to patch that last bit of the breach in time.



Battlestar Hestia, Deck 16, Hangar Bay A

IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #232
OOC Time: Sun Dec 06 22:10:58 2009


The hangar deck is where the Hestia's 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. The floor itself is a light gray in color, but a lifetime of wear and tear has left marks and scratches everywhere. 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.



Adriana enters the Hanger Bay, leading a Triage team with all teh gear needed to stabilize a patient for transport.

[Into the Wireless] Pickup says, "Hestia, this is Raptor-2202, Pickup driving. We have visual confirmation on Foxbat-5. Initiating immediate tow. Serious damage to aft of craft, looks like some kind of blow out. We do not have eyes on the crew yet. Will contact with more information. ETA 1 minute to successful RTB."

Jericho is as wet as a drowned rat when she emerges in the hangar bar, her scrubs clinging to her and her wet hair in a tangle as it drips down her back. She might have just hopped out of the shower were it not for the chlorine smell that still clings to her. Gloves are pulled out of her pocket as she pads over to join Adriana and the triage team. "What's the word?"

[STC] Neha says, "Fox-5, this is Kharon. Are you there? Over."

The excitement out in space is over long before anyone's notified. The seconds tick by, and it's about two and a half minutes since medical was called that the Kharon's raptor is towed down by the deck crew, and disengaged from the Hestia's SAR's tow mechanism.

The externals of the rear of the raptor have blown off, and the Deckies gathered look horrified as they scurry to bring the craft in. They stop once it's clear the the elevator, and immediately open it up, cracking the hatch to reveal the interior.

One younger crewman, just on the job since a week before the bombs day, gasps and takes a step back. The more experienced crew not to medical, but grim looks suggest they needn't hurry.

Adriana smiles a bit, perhaps grimly "A Ship is stranded, we sent out a SAR, no word on injuries yet" She looks at one of the TEchs as he murmurs the latest "Amend that, there is likely injuries, damage to the aft of the.." She falls silent and moves with her team to the Raptor.

Inside the raptor are the bodies of two marines in full blacks, Major Ezra Cass, a pilot without her flight suit, wearing Kharon gear, the ECO without his helmet sealed on, and a small body crumpled in the flight suit, which is closed, but not totally sealed. Looks like the pilot tried to save a kid on board by sacrificing herself, but the seals didn't quite take before she succumbed.

[STC] Roland crackles onto the channel suddenly, having taken the phone, "Raptor-2202, Hestia. We copy and have medical waiting on deck. Over."

[Into the Wireless] Pickup replies, "Hestia, Raptor-2202. We have touched down and are locked on the deck. Medical is responding."

The Hestia's CAG is already pacing, awaiting the arrival of the raptor — when it touches down, she's on the move. Sito stays out of medical's way, but heads around the raptor to join some of the Deck already checking out the aft section of the transport. "Y'all wake up the Chief. I want Flowers on this. They are gonna want an immediate update over there. No mistakes!"

[STC] Roland gives a terse response, "Pickup, Hestia. Copy that. Good work out there."

[STC] (from Neha) A velvety woman's voice states, "Hestia, this is Kharon. Thank you for the tow. What is the status of our people?"

Jericho is approaching the Raptor with Adriana, but it seems like this won't be a rescue effort afterall. Jericho is in her scrubs, looking like she just hopped out of the shower when the call went out for medical. Snapping on latex gloves, she also affixes a grim line to her features. As Adriana was the first to arrive on the scene, Jeri is playing second fiddle. She has nothing to add, but a murmured prayer beneath her breath.

And for Security sake, the S2 has been roused again, and he's back down here half in and out of his blacks with a pair of marines-though they aren't particularly needed- you never know. He'll still need to make the inquiry on the craft- and follow up on what could have caused it, for precautions sake. Still He and his are staying back out of the way-since the Deck, and Medical can handle this. Arms remain folded over his chest, as he's coming up over to where Sito has moved. "What we got?" called out- more or less for reports sake.

[STC] (from Roland) The same voice broadcasts over the comms again, "Kharon, Hestia. SAR Raptor has touched down and we have your personnel. Medical's been dispatched and we will updated status as soon as we are able. Over."

[STC] Neha says, "Copy, Hestia. Very much appreciated. Kharon, out."

The Hestia's CMO is also here, though in less of a runaround capacity - Capriel trusts his Lieutenants. The tall Major heads down the ramp towards the messy-looking Raptor, dodging any deck crew. The grim looks are noted as his eyes catch a few faces on the way.

Adriana scrambles into the Raptor, not seemingly phased by the blood and dead bodies "Ok, we need to get these out of here" She turns to one of her TEch's "Have tehm send me more gurneys and bags" A glance is given Jericho "Grab the two Marines, I'll get the others" Her tone calm and even.

[STC] Roland transmits over the channel, "This is Hestia. They…are in good hands. Hestia, out."

Sito maintains that cool professionalism in the face of what appears to be either a tragic accident, or insidious sabotage. It's hard to say either way at first blush. The CAG steps back and waits for the Deck to scramble to find the Chief while the others get to work making preliminary examinations.

Jericho ducks into the mangled hull of the Raptor, methodically going about checking for vitals on the two that Adriana assigns her. Pulse is a negative, respiration is negative. Her fingers brush over swollen eyes in an attempt to close them, muttering something about the boatman.

Tombs is now taking his time to come up and peer in. There's not even a blanche from the S2, just a shake of his head, as he maintains to keep out of Medical's way-specially when the Major hit the deck. Nothing sung out right now-instead he is going to let the CMO do his job, while he takes the count, A nod back behind him. "Corporal, get on the horn and call Krauss-let him now." said softly, before he's moving out of the way. "Gods.." finally added, before he's walking back further. "Tell the Chief I'll need a report of what she finds.."

"Sitrep, Lieutenant Polyduekes." Capriel doesn't need to be all close to someone to be heard. He has one of those voices, and it carries even as he's on the ramp up behind the two. "Total head count, and vitals on any of them?"

Adriana looks up from her grim work, hearing her CO "No survivors, We'll have a positive ID when we get back to Medical. Six adults, 1 child" Her tone crsiply professional as she reports. "Prelim cause of death, asphyxiation."

Jericho finishes her work to prepare the bodies for transportation, her movements slow and respectful as if there's ritual in every movement. "There's the long going debate as to what kills you first in space. The lack of oxygen…or the cold." She says quietly, as if she's talking to herself instead of the others. She can't lift the bodies herself, she'll leave that to the medics. Jericho re-emerges from the Raptor, a shiver catching her spine and making her shudder in her damp clothing. "Likely they were dead before SAR even reached them."

"Move it on the Chief, y'all." Sito steps back from the raptor and heads over to the catwalk before she climbs up to take a different view of the deck, and perhaps snitch a smoke in private. Not that the CAG smokes. Nope.

"Child?" One of Capriel's dark brows goes up to an arch at the end. There's a distinctly displeased look on his face as he surveys the bodies. "Alright. Clear back, let them get them out of here. Collect any dogtags before they're taken down." He unfolds his arms, eyes turning as he surveys the bay for the S2 that he knows is lurking somewhere.

Tombs is still there, he's a few paces back getting of the phone back to the Marine offices. And as he pulls back to head over to the bodies, there's a faint frown passed to the Major. "Sir." Tombs has one of those uncanny senses for when someone is looking for him. Needless to say, he's here and reporting back in after reporting back to his CO.

Adriana nods to Capriel already having gathered the ones she was working on, having tagged the bodies before taking them off "I have the ones I was working on" She holds them out to her boss.

Jericho hops off the wing of the Raptor, pulling her gloves off with that sickening snap of latex. As Adriana was the first to arrive on the scene, she also gets the joy of the paperwork. There's nothing else the surgeon can do, as it seems she doesn't have the ability to bring anyone back from the dead. As the first gourney is loaded, it seems she's going to accompany it up.

Capriel reaches for the tags, though he doesn't take them away. His fingers collect the metal oblong discs, looking at the names. "Good. Have them sent back to the Kharon as soon as you have positive ID." Both his Lieutenants get nods, the kind of good-work nod that would be happier without dead bodies everywhere. He looks back at Tombs. "Lieutenant. Do you have the manifest as to who was supposed to be on board?"

Tombs blinks for a moment as eyes are looking to the passing of the tags, before he's coughing. "You might wanna call the Chaplain- They deserve havin' some words said over em." the S2 then is rubbing his nose, before eyes are back over to the CMO. "Aye sir." A motion is made for the Major to follow him over towards the Security Area, where he's got the names written down on a bit of paper. "We were expecting a Dentist, their Marine CO, and a couple of marines.."And the kid goes unsaid. "Give me a second."

Adriana tucks the Dogtags inot a pocket of her scrubs and nods "I'll have a report listing who all we have and will have cause of death as soon as I can" She looks at the bodies as she signals the techs to take them away "Might be a bit though"

Capriel nods back to Adriana. Letting her get back to the less savory aspects of medical (if there are any savory ones to start with), the tall Major follows Tombs over to that Security area. "No need to do it now, Lieutenant. Just have the manifest sent down to medical as soon as possible, so we can confirm their ID before we notify."

Tombs looks back towards Capriel, and there is a nod. "Aye sir. I'll have Kalson pass it along to you before the night is out." A grunt, and fingers move to pinch the area just above his nose. "Frakking shit.." muttered before he's going to search some more for that frakking clipboard. Give him something to do.

"Thanks." Capriel's deep-set eyes look back over the blown-out Raptor on the deck, jaw set. "Frakking shit indeed." Parting words, apparently, as the CMO has a bay to get back to. He steps away from Tombs and starts for the exit, unless the man seems to have any more to say right now.

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