Let There Be Light
Stranded - Let There Be Light
Summary: Down on Scorpia, the Bunker peeps finally get the power going, and crack open the data recorder. So to speak.
Date: PH074 (01 July 2009)
Related Logs: Three Hour Tour & Road to Paros.

Scorpia, Rt 91, Bunker, Medical
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #74
OOC Time: Wed Jul 01 18:46:49 2009

The sickbay here in the SATCOMM bunker is nothing fancy at all. This is especially true when looking at the bare shelves and cabinets. A pair of beds sit on each side of the room, giving the personnel here room to hold four patients. A couple of cabinets are built into the walls for storage while a desk sits near the door. Small supply crates are stacked against the wall at the rear of the room, the serial numbers doing nothing to identify the secured contents inside.

Crewman Nikolai is good with wiring, and she's good with engines, and she's good with delicate gear (and a bunch of other stuff not applicable here). Somewhere deep in the bunker, George strips and re-fits the final piece of wiring that looked a little less than kosher.

"Hey." Dmitri's hands brace on the edges of the medical area's doorway, his body leaning past them as he cranes his neck, briefly, to check out if there's anyone inside. There are! So, he pushes the rest of the way in, strolling along inside and asking casually, "We got any small bandages layin' around in here? Cut myself on some thorns." A vague wave of one hand, a thin line of blood trickling across it. Nothing serious, apparently.

Thea's sitting up on the edge of the bed, a data box between her knees, very carefully balanced. Flashlights all around, apparently, for the medical bay. Light's not so forthcoming in a bunker. "Nikolai should have things up and running before too horribly long. Her status report earlier indicated she was close. Gotta love Colonial technology." The quiet sigh is quite evident. "I'm not sure where the bandages are, but I think that cabinet over there might have some."

"So this is where you good people are hiding the toys." Cyrus has fortunately done a makeshift clothes-washing routine and managed to take a shower, to the benefit of everyone assembled. He meanders by and notices Dmitri hanging through the doorway and checks out the little group in the distance. He gives the tinkering a little once-over. "What are you tearing apart there?"

Nine seems to have come back to life since her close enounter with a bowl of real soup. Still quiet, but she's managed the art of simple questions and answers, and— as for the computer systems which the deckie has allotted to her to sort out, she's been sitting up readily enough and working on them since she woke.

Ah. Cabinet! Dmitri saunters casually along over towards the cabinet in question, humming a cheerful little tune under his breath before pulling the doors of it open; crouching down, he starts to rummage through it. Presumably looking for the aforementioned bandages.

Flicker, flick. Flicker. There's a bit of a false start, and then it's not long before the generator finally kicks in, after many, many hours in darkness. The power kicks in, and it starts to cycle through the various systems. Whatever the tech types have been doing, it pays off.

Cyrus isn't the most polite or standoffish guy in the world. He actually doesn't wait for much of an explanation before crowding his way into the medical facilities. He hefts his pack over his shoulder and antsily paces inside. He flashes a tight smile before swivelling his head from Nine to George and back, clearing his throat. "Looks pretty hardened. There's a certain blocky, sturdy elegance to military-grade stuff." At the flickering of lights, he sighs in approval.

The flickering of lights doesn't distract Nine from her labors, as used to working in the dark as not. She works the boards and occasionally checks the monitor interface with what little power is left there, it not yet being hooked up to the rest.

Coming from the Hall is the Sergeant, as apparently he's looking back behind himself and then back over towards those all hiding in the bay. A faint grunt and the door's secured behind him. "An here I was getting used to the dark…" Dutch pauses , before he's stalking over to check on them that are injured.

Aaaan through the door stalks McTiernan for her usual early evening check in with the crew. She pauses there, looking over the medbay and those collected before she heads for Legs. "Clocks ticking down, Cat. Tell me your crew has something before we do this the hard way."

George wanders in just on Cyrus heels, and yawns hugely. The lights are on, and Crewman Nikolai heads over to a bed, climbs onto it, and flops over face down. Her work here is done, unless something else breaks, or someone orders her to wake up. They might have to shake her first for that. The red-with-blonde-streaks head of the technician misses the pillow by a couple of inches, and she doesn't even take off her coveralls first.

The lights in the facility flicker through the emergency cyle, then come up in all of the rooms, toggled to on by the systems. Some of the internal computers begind to boot shortly after, and the somewhat stale air cycles through the internal scrubbers, recirculating just like those ships we know and love. The silence is filled by a very whisper soft humm of everything kicking into gear. (The computer Nine is working on, of course, will be powered when she wishes to hook it in.)

A brow arches slightly and Thea looks up at the lights before looking pointedly at McTiernan, a faint smile on her lips. "What, afraid your Marines will actually have to do some work," she asks, lips pursed. "Given that the lights just turned on, I think you should have the answer to your question." She pauses for a moment. "Unless you need me to spell it out?" There's a faint hint of humor in her voice. "My two best people have been on this. We've now got power. Which means we can now get the information from the pretty little box that requires power to operate." Ok, so yeah, Cat's grinning. "Once we get powered up, we'll see what information we can get." As George wanders in, Thea calls out "Good work, Nikolai. Petty Officer, are we about ready to get this thing powered up?"

"Wait, wait," Dmitri leans back from his crouch before the cabinet, bracing on one hand as he twists his neck to look back around towards the others, brows raising a bit, "What're we turning on, now? I missed something."

Cyrus steps aside smoothly to let George move in. "Sorry, sorry." He gives Nine a curious glance again, but it seems he's more focusing on what she is -working- on than the engineer herself. Actually, to be fair, he's more looking at the computer like it's a big, juicy hot dog and he is a starving refugee. Well, actually we're all starving refugees right now, aren't we?

"Yea, its been a Gods damned vacation for us," McT tosses back. Stress and pressure and a lack of sleep are beginning to take its toll on the Marine's humor making her tone stretch little tighter then normal. "Marines! You got 15 minutes to tuck in food and grab your gear." Glancing back at Legs, she says. "I need the maps back."

"Who the hell paid the power bill?" comes Ashe's voice as he peeks in just in time to find out he'll be going out again. A grunt comes in response.

Dutch looks back between the Lieutenant, and then over to the Captain. A shift in the wait "huh.." A pause for a second. "Good to know I had a thumb up my ass when I was pulling bullets and doing guard duty. Now I'll know what t' put in my reports later…" The Corpsman just watches for a second before he's looking to McT. 'Already got it done..""

Nine taps the power reserves one last time and browses through the programs again to make sure they're all working before untapping the reserves and turning the console over with a faint grimace. She nods to the Captain, "Yes, Sir," she answers, lifting the console up in both her hands just a few inches for someone to come take it and hook it up.

George grunts. Could have been a sir.

Unless someone kicks his ass or tells him 'no," Cyrus swiftly steps in and offers Nine his assistance with the console with a gesture, holding out his hands. "Um, I've done data center disaster recovery before. Maybe not this level of -disaster-. Heh."

Legacy leans back slightly, popping her shoulders. "Relax, Lieutenant, and remember who's been thanking your Marines at every opportunity for the job they're doing. My people have been busting ass to get the lights turned on in this place and they've performed a minor miracle." She seems oddly relaxed. Not quite as stressed out. There's a sense of urgency in the way she stands to take the box over to Nine, but she's not snapping. "Maps are under the pillow." Thea offers Dmitri a distracted little smile. "We finally got the lights turned back on."

Oh, good, someone actually answered him this time. "I noticed," Dmitri observes with a roll of his eyes up towards the lights, "What I was asking is, what is the pretty box with lights being discussed that's about to be turned— frak it, it's probably classified or something anyway." A shake of his head, and he turns back to the cabinet, reaching in to finally pull out a box of bandages. Straightening, he sets them on a supply crate, pulling one out to wrap around his bleeding hand.

Nine looks with some gratitude to Cyrus, looking mildly worn from the day's hunching over the console, letting him take it off of her hands and leaning back against the wall, "The orange wire there… that will hook up to the box," she tells him, almost a whisper. "It'll interface."

A brow perks upward at the Captain's words but the Marine offers nothing else other then holding out a hand for the map. Verbally sparring isn't going to get Spider found.

Dutch is moving to head back to nab his pack, but not before checking his medkit's stores, which seem to be good. Satchel'd up he's off to go and nab his rifle and pack.

A brow perks upward at the Captain's words but the Marine offers nothing else other then stalking forth to the bed Thea has been using and pulling the maps out from under the pillow. Verbally sparring isn't going to get Spider found. "If you find something in the next hour, we'll be here, Captain. After that… "

Thea drops the box off to Nine with a quiet, "Please get this started. Work with Nikolai." Then her attention turns to Cyrus. "Flight data recorder from my Raptor. We're trying to pull information about where one of our Viper escorts went down so we can start search and rescue." The Captain is very calm, almost as if she's in instruction mode. "Some of the information is, I'm afraid, classified." And everyone knows what that means. Once the box is in Nine's capable hands, the Raptor Captain turns toward McTiernan and just studies her for a moment. "Lieutenant? I need to speak with you privately, please."

McTiernan gets this pained look on her face but nods as she heads for the door. It's pushed open and she walks through it, holding it open for the wounded pilot to come through.

Cyrus is all grins here as he clasps his hands upon the edges of the console. "Orange. Got it. Um, do we need to run any processes under any particular credentials that I would, uh," he clears his throat pointedly in an exaggerated declaration of innocence, "would not readily have that one of you would?" He then seems a little tense even as this next statement is tossed out there with a sort of jokey flippancy. "I don't know if now's the time and place for a demonstration of brute-force cracking. If it'd even work. From what I know.." Whatever he thinks he knows will wait though as now is the time to process Thea's orders. She's very obviously The Boss to him and he simply nods his head. "Umm, understood, Captain. Trust me when I say the -last- thing I want to do right now is to compromise anyone's security. Considering you're the second group of people I've met that didn't want to put holes in me, and the first one is already here," He doesn't finish, simply winking. And that's that.

Cyrus then goes ahead and plugs in the console according to Nine's suggestion. There. And there. He flicks a switch. And waits.

Nine is… still on the task. Classified? Oh. Her cheeks blotch up in their usual pattern of shame. "Yes, Sir," she replies quietly. It's her favorite thing to say, now. She turns the box over, then produces a key wrench from her box, opening one side and looking up to Cyrus sort of apologetically. Once the box panel is unlocked she holds out her arms for the console again from him. Time to put this together?

The bandages are taped off around Dmitri's hand, and he saunters back over to the cabinet to put the box away. "Should be an interestin' run," he grunts, mostly talking to himself, "What with all the damn toasters out there."

Thea reaches out to touch Nine's shoulder gently, offering the young woman a smile, then nods to Cyrus. "Thank you for your help," she tells him softly. "It's much appreciated." Then she's off to follow McTiernan, one hand patting at the bandage on her shoulder.

Nine also gives Cyrus a timid smile and a nod of her head as he gets everything set up with her, her own head leaning back against the wall as the console powers up. She moves an arm to shove the toolkit down to the foot of the bed so that he can sit if he'd like. As the power comes back on, she taps in a few commands with slow, cautious fingers.

"No problem, no problem. It's a wonder and a joy to be -doing- something." Cyrus smirks a little bit and he lolls his head over towards Nine and the smirk remains for a short period of time. "Ah. Physical creds. You folks don't play around, do you? Trust me, if this thing boots up and I see a flashing face of a Cylon laughing at me with the words 'U done been HACKED' I'm going to be -seriously- put out." He hands the console on over to her to, well, put everything together.

As the box is plugged in, the Colonial Navy's seal comes up, with the ID number of the ship and a space with a blinking cursor to enter a password.

"Way too much technology in here," Dmitri mutters under his breath, giving the box in question a rather suspicious eye. "How d'we know that thing isn't compromised by them?"

Nine's shin tilts upward to look for the Captain's ECO— only to look toward Dmitri for a moment. She doesn't say anything, though, but she turns to Cyrus, gesturing toward Ensign Teall in an indicative fashion.

Dutch returns after getting his gear, and there's a look back over towards Ashe "How's your gut kid?" a raised brow as his pack is re situated, and rifle slung over his shoulder. Curious? Just a little, but he is trying to think who will all be heading out on this mad SAR tonight

And yes, Cyrus, for the record, did take the proferred seat by Nine as he leans in not -too- obtrusively. He points to the output. "Got that written down somewhere?" He lolls his head over towards Dmitri. "I'd assume it wasn't comprom ised due to the fact that it was in the hands of these folks. As I said, if we g et the 'U done been hacked' message then we'll know, won't we?" He smiles a kind of cold, unhappy smirk."Technology itself is nothing to be afraid of, man.Unless it's in the hands of complete and utter idiots." Lolling his head towards Ensign Teall's direction now, at Nine's urging, he adds, "Would you be kind enough to appease the blinking login prompt, please?"

Cookie looks up from her food, nearby, as the computer finally gets going with the box. She steps over to enter the pword once the Engineer and Cyrus have gotten the box powered up and working. "I have the passwords." She nods to the keyboard. "That's hooked in?" And then leans over to enter in the proper access information so that the two others can sort through the data. She doesn't interfer. No need to, except direct from over the shoulder. "There's a sub directory here, you'll need any of these numbered items." She points to a list as data scrolls by on the screen. "The images are tagged and sorted manually, and they also are saved in increments. There's a lot to go through. If I recall correctly…" Cookie pauses then writes down a series of numbers with a click pen. "You're looking for around here for Spider. Here for Case, and Ivory is right around here." Now all that remains is to sort through the data, and look for the last readings containing their signature.

Dmitri's eyes narrow slightly at the box despite the comment, and the smirk, from Cyrus. "Sure it's not," he states rather darkly, "I'm sure that's what the same frakheads that built the damn Cylons in the first place said. An' whoever invented the bombs they dropped on us." He folds both arms over his chest, leaning back and watching the situation with a scowl, as if he expects the computer to suddenly hop up and bite someone.

Nine gives Shaddi her attention, and a grateful nod of her head as she takes the slip of paper and tucks it under a metallic slip toward the top of the console. Handy for that sort of thing. She doesn't chime in one way or the other on the conversation between Cyrus and Dmitri. She only begins to sort through the data in a methodical fashion, her hands falling into an easy rhythm of motions over the keys as her attention remains fixed on the readout, her lips tightly shut.

"Humans can usually find ways to be useless douchebags with sticks and rocks." Cyrus says, dismissively. "This is just an issue of scale." After replying to Dmitri, the smirk remains but there's something about it that's clearly disgusted. "Anyway, back on task here." After Cookie hands over the creds, he points at the screen, commenting, "Looks like a garden-variety BUNX architecture, complete with file trees and associated protected encryption. You can probably expand the whole trees to get a relational coordinate map if I'm guessing correctly. Yeah." He now smiles an easy smile, nodding a little bit. "Thanks for the help." He says to Cookie. "That significantly reduces our search area. Saves time."

Dutch turns his head over towards Cyrus and Nine, silent as he is waiting to head on out. They have coordinates or something it seems. A slight pause as he watches the two as they go on through the technical jargon "You have a read on one of them? Or both?" curious, the marine edges a little closer

Nine simply continues to methodically scan the data in silence, calling up dataset after dataset in a rhythmic pattern like a heartbeat. When she sees something of interest, the heartbeat demonstrates some arhythmiaas some extra tapping copies the data into another screen on the console.

Dutch is still watching the other two before looking back for a moment "You guys have any shit or what?" Again the marine asks, because he is well waiting on figuring this all out and move out, though true to Marine motto it seems the Corpsman literally has hurried up and waited.

Thea comes striding back in some time after she drug the Marine Lieutenant off. Two officers leave, only one returns. Wait, is that blood on Thea's shirt? Nah, can't be. Was it there before? It doesn't look all that fresh. There's…a look on her face. She's just in time to hear what Dutch has to say and a brow goes up. "Sergeant," Thea says mildly. "I would appreciate if you let my people work without adding more pressure to the situation. They're doing their job as quickly as they can. You wouldn't rush an ambush, would you?" There's no real censure in her tone, but there is just a touch of exasperation. "Petty Officer, report, please."

Cyrus has fallen right in line here with Nine, although she's playing the role of the silent one. "There. And there. That looks like a positive." He's a second pair of eyes, if not hands, and points at another item of interest. And another. He gives her a sidelong glance, with a little nod. "Sorry if any of this is redundant. I'm not used to doing this kind of work in groups." Finally, Dutch's persistent questioning earns the Marine a look. "We're finding something, boss. We've actually found the data, she's just mapping it properly so we don't end up digging a hole in some shithole like Avro City." His nose wrinkles in exaggerated disgust. "If that place got bombed, I'm not sure anyone could tell." He then snaps to focus on Legacy, clearing his throat but not speaking directly. He indicates Nine with a little jut of his chin. She's in the chain of command, after all.

Dmitri's gaze flickers from the loathesome piece of technology being worked upon (at least, from the outdoorsman's point of view) towards the door, noting the return of Thea. A slight grunt, as he mutters under his breath, "They don't let /me/ hit the idiots around here. Benefits've rank, I s'pose."

Dutch glances back towards the Captain and there's a faint scowl, but that's normal "Sorry, but Time and us aren't friends, Captain." simply they don't have time by the marine's estimation. A look is given back over to Cyrus. Look or not he is staring full on at the kid. "Ihave no shit clue what you're talking about cowboy. Never been to Avro." simple there before he is looking back to the rest. "Frakkin A, I hate computers."

Abruptly coming out of his rather complete and lost daze, Ashe pipes up. "Anyone have any good stogies?" The Marine seems to have been off in la la land focusing on nothing at all until that moment.

Nine doesn't seem pressured by anything anyone has to say to her about what she's doing. She barely seems to hear anything at all, only looking up at the machine at the direct request for data output entered by the Captain, her voice emerging in a light, steady stream, rattling off a series of latitude and longitude markers for each of the downed craft in an impassive sort of manner, looking at the readouts to relate them, then looking up. "That puts Case's viper just under thirty five kilometers north of here, north of a town called…" she checks, "Osprey. Spider's forty kilometers northeast, east of Osprey. Ivory's Raptor twenty kilometers east toward Paros."

Thea moves up behind Nine, glancing over at Dutch as he speaks. She offers him a small smile. "I know, Sergeant," she says softly. "I know. I'm with you. But you can't make a flower bloom before its time." Cyrus gets a smile that's worried, though warm - but then Nine's speaking, and Thea's attention is there. "Alright. It sounds like we need to go for Ivory and his crew first. This part of the operation is Lieutenant McTiernan's. Ivory's about 12 miles out. Case is about 18 miles and Spider's about 24 miles from us." Her lips purse slightly, brows furrowing. "Marines? What are your thoughts? Resistance folk? I'm thinking Ivory first, given that he had a compliment of Marines as well, and that will give us a better base for going after the others."

"Well, it was a basically a depressing ghetto since before the Cylon war suffering from crippling economic implosion. You're not missing much." Cyrus doesn't seem particularly bothered by the impatient Dutch. He shrugs a little, with a sardonic grin. "Trust me, I am savoring the irony here. I've spent the better part of two decades wanting to get off this ball of dirt. And here I am, washed up, over thirty, and discovering that it may be the most desirable vacation spot left in the Colonies. At least One of the Gods is laughing, right now." Nine's revelation shuts him up for the moment though as he looks between the Petty Officer and the Captain. "Osprey. Lovely place. It's full of bandits right now, or it was, probably Cylons too. Don't know about Paros."

Cyrus adds, after Legacy speaks, "You might want to check with some of the more rugged outdoorsfolk. But Osprey's dangerous. If your pilot's alone there…" He trails off. Shrugging.

Ashe pipes up finally hearing what is said and blinks shaking his head, "Not as easy as that Sir." The sir is stated towards Legacy. "How far have we moved from our Crash? Unless the others ate a big breakfast of stupid before we left, they probably did the same. So even finding the Raptors only gives us a starting point."

"Smaller group, I'd say," Dmitri makes his gruff opinion known, chin tipping up towards the others, "If the one group's larger— it's either survivin' alright on its own, or drew too much attention an' they're all dead. Go for the smaller group, they're more likely to've both avoided notice, an' less likely to be able to survive alone."

"And that is were tracking comes in," McT offers from the door way where she's been very quiet since her return. "And why we make the best use of the resources we have at hand."

Dutch grimaces for a moment before he's looking back to Legacy and the Corpsman is nodding "Paros might be good, if we want numbers.." A look back towards the Lieutenant "We rolling?" asked, perhaps ready to move out from the bunker, but one never knows how command will fall out. "Specially if we gotta go to Osprey.."

Thea tilts her head as she listens to all of the others, then turns her attention to McTiernan. "What do you need," she asks simply. The trust in the other officer is there, pure and simple.

Nine doesn't offer anything further, lowering her eyes to the data once more, letting the others decide where to go from there.

Again Ashe grunts, "Tracking. But that's assuming they didn't cover their tracks like we did. We ran into these folks, did they run into folks also? Just saying it might be more difficult than we think sir is all. Iunno, seems to me that putting all our eggs in one basket at a time… what happens we go after Ivory's Raptor and can't find them for a week?"

Dmitri's chin tips up a bit, and he notes dryly, "Wouldn't it be easier if you jus' restored communications?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Alyssa says as she walks in, "but it's time to take a look at bandages. And please don't gripe at me, the sooner we take care of you, the sooner you're back at one hundred percent."

"Only problem with restoration is locating the source of the interruption." Cyrus has been staring at the screen again, but Dmitri's question earns a quick turn of the head. "There's nothing but noise over Wireless recently. Now," he begins, clearing his throat, pointedly, "There are some unfriendly artificial life forms that have decided we can't call for pizza. My guess is that they've got some kind of active jamming device. Or devices. The latter's likely given the scope of it. What about those towers someone said they were putting up?"

McTiernan marks the locations given on the map and then tucks them away. "If there is anything Captain, I'll let you know. Thanks." Turning, she heads out of the medbay hoping she can find marines along the way.

Dutch turns and is filing out behind McTiernan. A glance is passed over to Legacy, but all in that he's marching out. Its what marine's do. Or just a facet of what marines do.

"If you see something that looks like a transmitter, you might want to apply copious amounts of 'boom.'" Cyrus calls out towards the departing Marines. "Sometimes you have to destroy before you can create."

Thea holds a finger up to Alyssa and just stares after McTiernan for a long moment, jaw working slightly. She looks to Dutch and nods, once. "Good hunting, Sergeant," she calls quietly. Good hunting, traditionally for pilots only. Then she turns to Alyssa. "Apologize for turning your sickbay into a command center, Lieutenant," the Captain says in a crisp, quiet voice. "The Marines are getting ready to move out, so you'll want to ensure the Sickbay is prepared for possible casualties."

Dmitri's hand lifts up, fingers splayed to his face to hide his eyes in them. "That's.. that's what I mean," he mutters against his palm, "The frakking towers are jamming our— frak it, nobody listens." The survivalist gives his head an irritated shake, pushing off from the cabinet to stroll towards the door.

Alyssa seems clearly annoyed but tolerant for now. "Not a whole lot of room elsewhere, though if you lot could manage to not get shot, I'd take it as a kindness. Our reserves won't last forever." Glancing at Ashe, she adds, "You especially, Corporal. If this was shipside, you'd be staying in bed if I had to chain you there."

Hearing Corporal, Ashe looks over at Alyssa and smirks a bit. "I normally charge by the hour for being chained up. And I'm not sure you can afford my prices, although I suppose I could offer a discount."

"Hey. -I- am listening. I listen to everything. Sometimes I just pretend not to." Cyrus snaps his head to Dmitri again and gives the man a pointed nod. Although he's smirking, for some reason. "Towers. Boom. I can't break things like that though. I just break shit by accident. It's in my nature."

Legacy looks over to Dmitri, shaking her head slightly. "I'm sorry," she says with a sigh. "Too many things at once. All communications are jammed and have been since we've been doing recon down here. We don't know how or where."

Nine is still sitting in the bed in which she'd been placed, even if that bed is now also covered in a control console, a Raptor data box, an open toolkit and Cyrus. She looks to the Doctor, ready enough for whatever she has to do.

Dmitri pauses near the door, slanting a look over to the others with a frown pursing his lips. "I've been tryin' to tell people for days now, but nobody's been listenin'— there's several of those towers out there, an' since they started popping up we haven't heard shit. They're obviously what's frakkin' blocking our comms."

Dutch turns his head "Alright..Anyone going come along, we're moving out.. No use burning daylight.." Or night light. Right now the Sergeant is rolling out to go and get to seeing what they can find. Recon on him. So…hoorah?

For the mission bit, see: Road to Paros.

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