PHD 265: Whistle While You Work
Whistle while you work
Summary: An unusual guard duty of the hangar bay crime scene.
Date: 265 PHD (Friday Jan 08, 2010)
Related Logs: Captain Jack Cylon?

[ Hangar Bay A - Deck 16 ]-------[ BS Hestia ]
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #265 OOC Time: Fri Jan 08 15:32:17 2010

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.
-=[ Condition Level: 3 - All Clear ]=---------

Villa is standing guard with a few other fellow marines. The sarge is currently adjusting his helmet. The area near the dented equipment still secured.

The roar of viper engines can probably be heard clear across the hangar deck, as the morning patrol returns. Deck crew disperse like insects, scurrying off to secure the birds and hook up fuel hoses to prep them for their next trip out. Spider's canopy is up before his viper's even brought to a standstill, and he tugs his helmet off while clambering out of the cockpit. Judging from the smoke trailing from the aft portion of his Mark II fighter, looks like something blew on it when he came in.

Villa removes the goggles of his helmet just as Kai arrives. The motion of the crew catches his attention for a bit before he is moving to check the magazine of his assigned semi-auto. He doesn't know who just landed, but he seems important, giving the amount of people running around to tend this viper. "Must be their Ace coming down or something," he offers to the marine besides him.

Or maybe he's just some schmuck who blows his landings. Never know with pilots. The Captain swings down off his ladder, boots hitting the deck heavily. There are already a couple of technicians drifting in to examine the damage to his fighter. He frowns slightly, but keeps his distance and lets them do their jobs; his, at the moment, is paperwork. A brief glance across the 'bay catches the security contingent posted not too far off, and he gives an absent, though curt nod to Villa and the other marine before resuming his checklist.

Villa taps his magazine over his helmet as he watches the viper crew contingent. The mag is slid into the weapon's ammo chamber and the slide pulled to move the first round in. "Oh. It's the CAG," offers Villa to his squad mate, and they both throw a firm salute. CAGs are bullet magnets these days, so, the marine group knows they should stay on their toes when this sort of folks is hovering near. Add to the fact, they are guarding a crime scene just a few steps away from a busy hangar.

Kai probably wasn't expecting a salute, at least not while filling out his post flight checklist. But it's returned regardless, with his still-gloved hand. He's also rocking some pretty heavy duty helmet head, courtesy of having spent four hours in the cockpit. He scribbles, paces a few feet around the bird, scribbles some more, then flips the cover sheet back over and passes the clipboard to one of the technicians lurking about.

Thorn is pulling a late shift today; according to the clock he was off duty over an hour ago, but yet he's still on the hangar deck, hovering around a Raptor as usual. No technicians hanging around this bird; by now, the Hestia deck crew has probably learned to give Thorn a wide berth on the hangar deck, especially after the day he arrived to find Flowers' people had laid open Fox-7 like a gutted fish. A tool cart stands next to the wing, several implements spread out alongside. Anton's hands and tank tops are stained with a mixture of sweat and grease; for the moment, though, he's just leaning against the Raptor's wing, looking over some notes and making the occasional addendum.

Villa resumes his guard duty and so does his mate. A few seconds later, he's the only one in view of anyone tending to the birds that just landed. A look back to where the bodies used to be and where the blood-stained deck still adorns the place before he rubs his nose and continues his watch. A small scan to where Thorn is 'dancing the grease-monkey tango', and a smirk emerges. Nothing is said.

Kai pulls away from his fighter finally, letting the deck crew tend to whatever the frak new hole he put in it. Helmet hoisted up under his arm, he trudges off across the deck, his path invariably taking him past Komnenos and his greasy hands, going over some notes. "Working hard, or hardly working?" grunts the CAG without so much as slowing or glancing up. Friendly fellow, Marek.

Thorn curses floridly under his breath as his hand brushes against his miniature notebook, and a smear of grease appears on the paper. Said greasy hands are wiped against his pant legs before he resumes; that's when he hears a voice presumably directed at him. He snorts, but then looks up; hello thar, CAG. "Oh. Captain." A pause. "Even I'm not sure any more," Komnenos replies deadpan, before rising from his perch on the ship's wing. "Got a minute, sir?"

Villa watches the exchange with less curiosity now. Pilot things are not his concern at present.

Kai begins stripping off his gloves as he moves, and shoves them one at a time into the back pocket of his flight suit. His hands are none too clean, themselves; there's grease and dirt under his nails, and caking the callouses of his palms. After shooting another glance at the marines guarding the 'crime scene', he pauses, and nods briskly to the younger officer. "I have about five. What's up?"

Thorn finds his own eyes drifting over towards the marines as well; they're not such a common sight on the flight deck, after all. "Flight quals," he says without preamble. "With… everything what's happened recently, I know it's not exactly priority. But I just wanted t' make sure it hadn't fallen off th' back burner completely. Captain Legacy has still barely said a word t' me about quals."

Villa monitors the area near him for a while before he starts to slowly pace around said area. Even if the ex-Kharon people find it 'strange' or 'unnerving' for marine boots to be thumping around, Villa does at his leisure today. Shortly after the patrol-walk starts, he also begins whistling some old marine cadence. He's the jovial marine of the lot, it seems.

Kai looks over the tool cart by Thorn's raptor while the man speaks, perhaps taking mental notes on what sort of work he might've been doing. When Black Cat's mentioned, he nods slightly. "I'll give her a nudge about it. She's probably just been busy." He starts to head off again in the direction of the posted marines, then pauses, scraping his palm against a bristly cheek. "By the way, I'd like a short chat with you some time in the next few days. No rush." His flat tone of voice gives absolutely no clue as to what that chat might concern. But his blue eyes hold the taller pilot's, steadily, throughout, with just a hint of steel beneath his placid demeanor.

Marek's a steely sort of guy, so the look in his eyes doesn't exactly give Komnenos pause, though it does pique the tall ECO's curiosity. "I realize that, Captain," he replies first to the former. "Last couple months have been… eventful, even by our current standards." He waves a hand nonchalantly around the hangar deck, as if their mere location proves his point. Which, it… sorta does. He nods to the latter a moment later. "Not a problem, sir. I think I know where t' find you." Deadpan as ever. The sound of Villa's whistling draws a short chuckle under Thorn's breath; something seems a little incongruous, yet somehow amusing, about a big, armed-and-armored-to-the-teeth marine whistling so jauntily.

Villa keeps his whistling leveled and merry, as he paces around his security area. The other grunts say nothing and keep to themselves, as the tune continues. A quick turn around an empty toolbox, and Villa is once more pacing toward his starting point. To the keen observer, it will be very clear to see he's keeping and eye out for anyone near the zone. Marek draws his attention once more, as his projected path seems to take him closer to the marine detail. Still, he says nothing.

Kai ticks off an informal salute to his temple with two fingers, and twitches a small smile as he trudges away from Thorn. Might be some private little joke of his. Might be the marine whistling nearby. Either way, Villa gets a crisp 'Sergeant' as the CAG passes, then disappears into the stairwell.

Villa nods to the passing officer. No salute this time, as he seems to be in a hurry to depart.

"CAG leaving the deck!," yells out a tiny deckhand, as the pilot nears his exit stairwell. People stand firm and salute, giving the CAG his formal departure thingy.

As Marek strides away, Thorn turns on his heel and steps back towards the Raptor. Out comes the notebook again; he proceeds to scribble in several more quick notes before moving on. Evidently he too has decided to call it a day; his green duty blouse is recovered from the back of the ECO's chair, and he quickly towels off his face and hands with a handy and (mostly) clean rag before slipping it on. The tools are quickly put away, and then finally he's on his way, notebook still in hand. As his attention is focused more on the page than on where he's walking, his course begins to lead him towards where the marines are patrolling.

Kai has left.

Villa spies another pilot nearing the no-fly zone, but still keeps silent. He's close to where the stroll will take Thorn so; he comes to a stop near him. He now simply waits to see where the pilot will go.

Thorn's really not looking where he's going, otherwise he'd realize his steps were taking him towards the crime scene instead of the stairwell. He's found something to correct, it seems, and is concentrating on trying to walk and write at the same time. Judging from the navigation fail, it's not working.

Villa quick-steps towards the pilot, and slightly tugs on his arm. "Eh… sir," says the marine, "Mind your…gimble, eh?" He spares a smile to hint that he doesn’t want the pilot to step into a danger area and be shot full of holes by the other six armored folks here. You know the ones in sexy black drabs?

"Hnh?" Thorn grunts in surprise, looking up with a scowl at the Marine before he realizes what he was doing. "Oh. Sorry, Sergeant." He looks around to the rest of the marines, who are all of a sudden looking very alert. "The stairwell on Kharon's hangar was this way," he offers lamely as he shoves the notebook back in his pocket. "Old habits die hard, what? Carry on." With that, he's heading off — in the right direction, this time.

Villa smiles and nods. Pilots.

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