Mxm - 12.47.37 - CIC
MxM - 12.47.37 - CIC
Summary: CIC's perspective of MxM 12.47.37.
Date: PH220 (24 Nov 2009)
Related Logs: All Measure by Measure logs: MxM 12.47.37

IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #219
OOC Time: Tue Nov 24 13:10:24 2009

Bathed in dark blue light, this warfighting nerve center is a room that might more closely resemble a cave but for the illuminated displays and activity, creating an effect that detracts from the claustrophobic feelings it could impose when fully lit. Situated with all the major displays at the front of the room, crew members sit at work stations facing that wall as if an audience to a performance. Liquid crystal screens track everything from DRADIS contacts to the fuel status of airborne Vipers and Raptors. Off to the side, smaller screens hang from the low ceiling that provide video footage of the Flight Deck and Hangar Bay One's Viper Tube airlock doors.

To the rear of the room is the primary plotting table - the only white-lit object in constant operation within the room. Its pale illumination is just bright enough to back-light the maps that are lain out on it. A separate DRADIS display is placed at the rear of the room to provide the Officer of the Watch with a view of the tactical situation no matter which way they are facing. A set of yellow-lit glass plots are stood vertically to the side of the room, allowing the historical view of anything that might be tracked via sensors.

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Action stations, action stations. Set Condition one throughout the ship. All alert pilots up /now/!"

Praxis is in CIC sipping his coffee nonchalantly as the continuous routine of the Raider engagement happens. Looking up on the screen he doesn't like what he sees - the Raiders out tangling with the CAP. About three whole minutes away. That's far. "Inform the CAP that we are launching alert fighters to assist - but they are a considerable distance from the carrier. ETA three minutes." There's always a sort of helplessness that sinks in every time something like this happen. "Oh, and Kavi…do try to keep yourself in check, if you will."

It's not as though all the craziness isn't enough to handle, but now said Ensign finds herself feeling a bit prickly over a prickish comment. All the same, Neha keeps her mouth shut, other than relaying the 411 to the pilots.

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Flight, this is Kharon. Alert fighters are launching. ETA is three minutes. Over."

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Rebound, Kharon. Cleared."

It's hard being a pimp, it really is. And hey, Prax has to be prickish to get the job done. File a complaint with Cortez or whatever; cos the Captain of the CEC Pimpmobile is just getting started. All joking aside, eyes lay upon the DRADIS with a distanced expression, but focuses as if he can make the little green blips traverse to the red ones faster. Don't eat the red ones last, guys.

Praxis looks over to the navigation tech, a brow quirking slightly. "What is the estimated time until we're ready for jump?" Knight asks, before he goes back to his regular duty of watching the battle from afar.

Kavi remains silent, keeping her attention on the comm channels.

The nav tech chirps on command, "Approximately two minutes until we're outta here, sir."

Praxis looks up on the display and then turns back to Neha. "We've got four more contacts on DRADIS, tell our pilots they had better start heading for home before they start to get overwhelmed." he mentions to the comm officer, trusting that she will get the message across. "Weapon batteries online. Jamming suite online." Demitros narrows his eyes. They're pretty far out there.

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Flight, Kharon. Best head home, ASAP. Four more visitors have popped-up and probably have buddies on the way."

The battle in space continues, vipers trading fire with the enemy craft. So far, none of the jocks have called out for a taxi ride home. They seem to be fairing slightly better against the enemy than the last few rounds of pilots have. Some of them may have managed to get their hands on stims, though the use hasn't been widely or officially authorized as yet.

The spooled FTL is warm and ready to go, coordinates entered, and the button is hot. The vipers have turned, following the RTB order, and the raiders are in hot pursuit. Provided something doesn't go wrong, the vips should lead the enemy directly into the firing solution of the Kharon. It is, of course, advisable to wait for the vipers to clear it before firing.

Even though the Vipers appear to be doing a little bit better outside, Demitros still knows that they can't really keep this up for much longer. They'll run out of fighters, pilots, the will to live…something will deplete and then everyone will die, or something. "Hold your fire until friendlies are out of your scope," advises the XO, watching with baited breath. "Engage the FTL drives upon my signal." Eyes peel from the screen for a moment, to scan over each of the bridge crew members to ensure they are all still in the game.

Comms is present and alert… hoping the home team will score the winning touchdown.

The vipers speed past the Kharon, riding right through the line of the guns, speeding back to the barn with the raiders on their tail, just 2 remaining. The raptor is tagged, but is close enough to the ship to land, though its speed decreases with an engine hit. Helios is lost from DRADIS, signature blipping out. The raiders hang back slightly, re-aligning to target, well within the firing solution of the Kharon.

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Rebound, Kharon. Copy. We'll try to take out some of 'em."

Look at that, Praxis. No condolences from Kavi, even if she sounds a little morose.

The vipers scream through the firing solution, Demitros' corrected jade eyes fixated right on the targeting computer as this instant occurs. There is a visible twitch in his features as the whole bridge listens to the death of yet another individual being fried in his cockpit, teeth clenching down underneath his lips. At the very instant the last viper is out of the scope and on the way back to the base, there is one single, powerful word uttered, paired with an index finger at the DRADIS. "Fire."

The combined fire of the vipers damages the last two raiders heavily, KEWs making quite the impression, and slowing their progress on the heels of the colonials. Just as the vipers clear the line of fire, the Kharon opens up, lighting up the black of space.

The raiders spin out of control, hammered with heavy fire, and explode into space dust to join their fallen brethren. The hornets nest is once again stilled, but previous experience says another wave can't be far behind. The getting, as they say, is good.

Praxis raises a brow at the distorted signal coming in from Rebound, a glance to Neha. "Recall all fighter craft," says the XO. "Ask Rebound to repeat his last transmission and also inquire as to if he requires a tow." For the moment, they have time…but that doesn't stop Demitros from wanting to get the heck out of here.

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Flight, Kharon. ALL ships RTB, immediately. Rebound, repeat your last. Do you require a tow? I say again, do you require a tow?"

That relayed, Neha /finally/ looks at Praxis for the first time since, well, a notable amount of time. And just as she's about to ask about paging Medical, one of the pilots makes the request, so Kavi takes the initiative.

[Intercom] Neha says, "Attention: Medical, report to the Hangar Bay, immediately. I say again: Medical, report to the Hangar Bay, immediately."

Praxis nods once at Neha's initiative (that would be the best approval you're going to get, Ensign), and since Rebound is aboard, there's nothing else to do now instead of commencing Operation GTFO. Thanks to the talented navigation technicians, they can start this whole routine once again. "Jump on my mark." he mentions, picking up the shipwide and announcing the egress out of the region.

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Now hear this: engaging the FTL drives in three, two one. Jump …. Jump complete. Set Condition Two and reset the clock. Forty two minutes until next projected encounter. Rotate shift."

How nice to get some showing of approval. Unfortunately, the comms officer had already turned her attention elsewhere to make the call, so it's not as though she notices the XO's nod. "Resuming scanning for rogue frequencies, sir," Neha relays, focused on her console.

Praxis shakes his head to clear it after the distortion of time and space, sighing out a long breath as he moves away from the plotting table, feet clomping along the ground as he moves up behind Neha, reaching for a nearby chair and sliding it up to sit beside her. "I figured you could use some assistance," says the captain, pulling a notebook out of his pocket and letting his eyes drift to the screen of data streaming by as the sensors rotate through frequencies. Yeah, it's time to get his hands dirty.

Whatever less than kosherness that there may be brewing between the Ensign and the Captain, Neha remains the utmost civil, even if decidedly subdued. "If you find it warranted to lend assistance, sir, I'll readily accept it."

Praxis is not willing to beat out the problems between them at this current point in time. All of the personnel are tired and overworked and just plain trying to stay alive. Demitros reaches for the styrofoam cup he magically brought along with him, tipping the container back to consume some of the liquid. Suddenly, from the Ensign's console there is an alert - a burst of data received. A glance is shot to Neha for a brief moment and then back to the screen. "Did you observe that?"

Hadjara is sitting, working with the Captain and the Comms officer, her expression intense, for the lack of a better way to put it. She too sees something and she's quick to say so, Jara not the kind to keep this kind of news to herself. "This is odd, sir. It's not ours…" Pursing her lips, she motions to Praxis and Neha both. "See…? There it is…."

Oh, yes. She noticed. "More than observed, sir." In fact, there is no hestitation on her part, hands now in a flurry as Kavi gets crackin' on trying to crack this proverbial nut. "Let's see about pinpointing it…" Tap-tap-tap. Neha's brow furrows with scrutiny. "I can't determine if it's inside or outside, but it appears to be somewhere on the port side of the ship. The frequency keep shifting, which makes it difficult to track. I'm pulling down which bands it has already utilized." So that someone can try to deduce a pattern.

Praxis presses a button, suddenly the data sniffed from the radio waves being printed out in the form of raw data. He rips the sheet from the printer and looks over it, placing it upon the table and beginning to scribble his notes as he applies his decryption techniques. There's quite a bit of math and thinking involved, but he isn't at all idle otherwise; over his shoulder he looks at Jara. "It would appear as if your sniffing algorithm had paid off." he mentions to her before Neha gives a vague description as to the origin. He'll take that over nothing at all. "Understood. Port-side. If that is as specific as we can get, then I'll take that." His teeth grind together for a moment or two while he pours over the printed data. "Excellent. Persist to track the device; inform me the moment you discover anything new." He stands up, brushing the dust off of his shoulders. "Sharifa, you're with Kavi. Two pairs of eyes are better than one when attempting to discern a pattern." He begins to stroll away with the paper in his hand, eventually getting to the wireless terminal where he picks up the receiver. Finally, some progress.

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Pass the word: Captain Althea Legacy, Ensign Salazar Nikos, report to the Ward Room immediately. I say again, Captain Legacy and Ensign Nikos to the Ward Room."

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