MxM - 42. It's Always 42.
MxM - 42. It's Always 42.
Summary: The final battle of 42, and a massive boarding action that takes place primarily in CIC.
Date: PH220 (24 Nov 2009)
Related Logs: Measure by Measure.

CEC Kharon, Deck 2, CIC
IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #220
OOC Time: Tue Nov 24 19:55:52 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.

Tiera is alternating between her own console and the ECM screens. A coffee cup cradled in her hands. The bruise on her temple is turning a nice yellow green color. Occasionally she reaches out to press a button, watching the readouts. Teh CIC is somewhat quiet as the crew go about thier duties.

With the rustle of flight suit on flight suit, Thea comes back into CIC wearing the same thing she'd been wearing when she left. Well, that and a somewhat pensive look. She dips her head to Tiera and Neha, voice quiet as she asks, "Is the XO enroute?"

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Madman, Kharon. Copy. Keep us posted. Trying to see if the signal can be further triangulated."

Perhaps it's a combination of channel chatter and Legacy's quiet tone, plus her own intense focus on the job at hand, but Ensign Kavi does not appear to have heard the question about the XO.

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Pournelle, Kharon. You're a go."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Thorn, I want running commentary on what's going on once you're out there. If something even -thinks- of blinking, I want coordinates."

Tiera looks over as Thea speaks and shakes her head a bit "I'm not sure, he hasn't let us know" She smiles a bit "He was out on his feet when he left us here earlier"

That… just there… that Neha heard. Quickly, she turns her head this way and that until she espies the Raptor Squad Leader, and then offers a crisp nod of respect. "Sir." Then it is back to the console. She'll have to say hello to Tiera later.

Thea picks up the microphone for a Tac3 radio and nods to the two junior officers present, though her eyes linger briefly on Neha. Her message goes across and so she settles back, rocking on her heels briefly.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Black Cat copy, Thorn. You've got 20 minutes until the next attack. At the fifteen, I want you heading home."

Legacy shakes her head as she glances at the Com. "Tell Dash to stand down, please."

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Dash, Kharon. Stand down."

[TAC1] Damon says, "Cavalera on shift. Moving to SecHub."

[TAC1] Salazar says, "Noted. Refresh the coffee pot."

Ensign Salazar Nikos walks into the Security Hub with a grand total of two marines in tow — PFC Torres, rescued from the Elpis, and Pvt Dover, the one and only. She steps into the room and directs them in either direction around the room, to begin a thorough sweep. "Resume your normal duties, don't mind us. We're here to search out transmitters." She approaches the CIC terminal, taking a look at the overhead DRADIS display, and the other two begin a low search, sliding around and between consoles, and generally brushing past those on duty.

Ensign Salazar Nikos walks into the CIC with a grand total of two marines in tow — PFC Torres, rescued from the Elpis, and Pvt Dover, the one and only. She steps into the room and directs them in either direction around the room, to begin a thorough sweep. "Resume your normal duties, don't mind us. We're here to search out transmitters." She approaches the CIC terminal, taking a look at the overhead DRADIS display, and the other two begin a low search, sliding around and between consoles, and generally brushing past those on duty.

[TAC1] Salazar says, "All teams report. Update on the search. Sound off on your location."

[Into the Wireless] Salazar says, "All teams report. Update on the search. Sound off on your location."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Copy, Madman."

[TAC1] Damon says, "Cavalera. SecHub. Signing out gear and on standby."

[TAC1] Epi says, "Ajtai and Jarot in the Gym, Sir, with Engineering."

[Into the Wireless] The S2's voice comes over the wirelo again, "Carry on with your search duties, and keep your rifles handy. If you get a priority call out, move it RFN. Stay frosty. 5 minutes to next engagement."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Madman, Black Cat. Five minutes on the clock. Mark the position and RTB. Shadow, Pournelle, you'll stay out, but close to Kharon."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Black Cat to all on deck Vigilantes. Five minutes until launch. In your birds and prepare for launch when the mark is given."

They found it, it seems. That's good news. For a brief moment, Kavi looks a little relieved, and then the Game Face is back on. 5 minutes until the possibility of more casualties. Not at all her idea of fun.

Salazar wears a small black earpiece in her ear, the little mic sweeping around her cheek. She reaches to brush dark hair from her eyes, and talks into it with a hand on the walkie at the back of her right hip. She wears combat blacks, a sidearm at her right hip, and a rifle over her shoulder. There could be more weapons, but do you really wanna get that close? She glances over to Legacy. "Do I owe you a novel, Captain?"

Thea's voice is quiet as she offers, to Neha, "Feel free to tell him to keep the chatter down." Then she glances over to Salazar and shakes her head. "Not yet. We're about 4 minutes out from engagement so I'm pulling my people in and preparing for launch." After a moment, she pauses and looks back to Tiera and Neha. "Is it possible for us to jump out as soon as they jump in?"

Tiera looks up from her screens "It depends on how fast engineering can get us spooled up, if we are spooled up and ready then yes it is possible"

Co-ordinates and confirmation. Score! Neha picks up horn and starts to dial the Bossman, so that she can relay the news to Praxis.

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Flight, Kharon. You're all cleared."

Tiera spins and issues a few commands to her gunner and her screens go green as Batteries come online, she speaks softly to her gunners, doing last minute checks.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Shadow and Dash, if you don't learn proper radio etiquette, I'm going to shove each radio up your ass sideways. You were given an order to scramble to your vipers and told to wait for your mark. The next time I hear someone asking for permission to launch, you'll be eating your Viper. Case with Dash. Pournelle with Shadow. Madman, get your tail down now."

Four minutes left on the countdown clock, as the raptor pulls away and starts its trajectory back to the flight deck. Three minutes. Three and a half.

And then DRADIS suddenly goes haywire. Five contacts blip in, followed by two more. Another, and another, and another. Ten appear clustered about a mile off the starboard side, and three contacts that register as 'HVYRAIDER' make egress from faster than light travel not two hundred feet from where the raptor is skimming the carrier's flank.

Tiera frowns but remains her usual calm self "Batteries online and tracking, ready to fire on command" A glance over her shoulder to the Officer of the Deck, waiting his command, teh ECM all but forgotten.

[Into the Wireless] Neha says, "Sir, it's Kavi. The transmitter has been found. Coordinates are uploaded. Lieutenant Roubani confirms it's the same object engineering lost."

Thea looks at Neha, eyes narrowing. "No, the transmitter has NOT been found, Kavi," she snaps. "Something has been found, yes."

[Into the Wireless] Neha quietly clears her throat. "Correction, sir. Something has been found.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Thorn, Black Cat. How far are you from the deck?"

"Apologies, sir," is conveyed to Legacy. "I misunderstood." Neha will have to feel bad about it later, though.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Shadow, get those things off Madman's ass. Madman, bring it in hot if you have to."

Thea's orders come fast and quiet. "Alert the deck that we've got one coming in hot," she tells Neha. "How long until we can jump again?"

[TAC1] Salazar says, "If you're in the bulkheads, hop out, marines. Search is still underway, but we have a possible complication in bound."

[Into the Wireless] Salazar says, "If you're in the bulkheads, hop out, marines. Search is still underway, but we have a possible complication in bound."

[Intercom] Neha says, "Attention: Deck, we have an inferno incoming."

[TAC1] Damon says, "Cavalera at SecHub, got the gear here. Grabbing some extra prepped bags. Where you want me?"

Thea just looks at Neha for a long moment, blinking. "He's coming in fast," she says quietly. "He's not on fire. Please let the deck know that we've got one coming in fast," she clarifies, using small words.

[TAC1] "Paradox" Ashe says, "I'm in the Sickbay, let me know where to rotate, sir."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Pournelle, do you need SAR or can you bring it in on your own?"

[TAC1] Epi says, "Jarot at the Gym with Lance Corporal dumbass. Holding position."

[TAC1] Salazar says, "Cavalera, maintain your position. Swift, if you're not geared up, get geared up. Jarot, inform Corporal Dumbass to re-read his dogtags and get with the program."

[Into the Wireless] Salazar says, "Cavalera, maintain your position. Swift, if you're not geared up, get geared up. Jarot, inform Corporal Dumbass to re-read his dogtags and get with the program."

Praxis walks into the CIC knowing that the 42 minute mark is about to be reached as well as receiving Kavi's report, he glances around at the crowded room, moving right up to the table and nodding across at Captain Legacy as klaxons begin to blare on the ship from going to Condition one. "Deploy all jamming suites on the nearby Heavy Raiders. Algorithm Demitros-Seven," he orders just upon coming in. Yes, he's written some little programs and added them to the jamming suite. "Plot the battery solutions and track the Heavy Raiders. Navigation, begin evasive action the moment Madman has touched down on the deck."

Perhaps it's so many officers-in-charge being in the CIC, or just exhaustion and stress, but Neha is clearly not at her best. "Yes, sir."

[Intercom] Neha says, "Attention: Deck, we have one coming in fast."

Tiera looks over at her Co "Batteries online and tracking as we speak sir" This is to Prax as he coems in spitting orders "Waiting for the Raiders to get in range Sir"

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Shadow, Pournelle, don't make me separate you two and send you to your rooms. Dash, how's it looking out there?"

[TAC1] Damon says, "Cavalera. Preppin for war. I've got meds, gas masks, and munitions ready for handout. Ain' nothin gettin in here."

[TAC1] "Paradox" Ashe says, "Roger that sir, heading down to the Sexurity Hub."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Pournelle, if your Viper is still functional, then you're on Shadow's wing. If you're not still functional, then why isn't your ass asking for SAR or RTB? Remain in until you get the call to RTB or you're no longer able to shoot."

Salazar stands nearby the DRADIS console while 2 marines search the area for any questionable devices. Something was found on the hull, yes, but it might be something else entirely, or there could be more than one transmitter. Nikos' doesn't do things half way. Meanwhile, she coordinates the marines from here. "Captain. Welcome to the party," she notes to Praxis.

Legacy glances over to Praxis, lips pursed slightly. "Sir, no one can tell me how long until we jump. My people found something on the hull, but the Raiders came in too fast. Given how close they came in, I suspect we're on to something."

[TAC1] Salazar says, "Roger that, Cavalera. Be ready to move."

[Into the Wireless] Salazar says, "Roger that, Cavalera. Be ready to move."

[TAC1] Damon says, "Copy that, Salazar."

"Take it easy, Reyn. We do not wish to damage the Vigilantes." Demitros mentions calmly to the weapons tech, eyes shooting over to Salazar to return the greeting and then flipping right to Black Cat as she gives the sitrep. He nods his head very briefly, and then the navstation is given the ol stink-eye. "Navigation, report! I want the estimated time to jump, now!" That should light some fire underneath their asses. "What has the search on the Kharon side yielded, Ensign Nikos?"

Tiera glances over at the DRADIS to check the range of the incoming Raiders then turns back murmuring into her com, talking to her crews. Her hazel eyes flicker around the Bridge as she talks, noting where the Kharon is in relation to the Vipers and Raiders. She flashes a tiught smile as her Captain "IFF operating normal sir"

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Shadow, RTB. Does Pournelle need SAR? Dash, we're calculating time to jump. Hold on out there."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Permission granted, Poet. Stick close with Dash until Shadow gets back out there, then you'll be on his wing. Madman, are you able to go SAR?"

[TAC1] (from Erato) MSGT Nikos says over comms, "Deck 1 clear, finishing up in Parts Storage and headed up to Three."

One of the nav techs nervously reports, "Sir, one minute until we're ready to jump." he mentions before he and his team go back to scribbling coordinates and flying the ship.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Madman, get Thorn some assistance. Dash, maintain evasive maneuvers. One minute til jump. Hold on for 30 seconds, then get your asses back on deck. Foxbat-3, you're on SAR."

[TAC1] Barghest says, "This is Barghest on deck three. We just cleared the lab, and we're moving forward."

The two fatboys slam into the side of the ship, the impact enough to crumple metal with a sickening grind and shriek that thankfully doesn't carry out into space. Hunks of the carrier's hull peel off and drift away, and nitrogen starts venting quickly. The second of the two collisions generates a terrific explosion that blasts the raider apart in a mess of wires, metal and bloody organs. Along with a wide swath of the Kharon, herself. Splintered pieces of bunk railings, personal belongings and linens are jettisoned, contributing to a fireball whose oxygen is quickly sucked away. Meanwhile, raiders continue to jump in, while their brethren pour rounds into the exhausted vipers.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Black Cat copy, Thorn. Get a band-aid on it then you and Madman prep an uninjured bird. You're going back out after the jump to get that device. Cra…Dash, Case, Poet, another fifteen seconds then RTB. Careful coming in, Kharon's been hit."

Tiera looks over at the Nav "Range to teh incoming Raiders!?" Her hands fly over the controls and her gunners respond, searching the space around the ship for anything close enough to fire at.

The second of the impacts, a little more delayed from the first, is much closer, and much harder felt up here in CIC. The damage board lights up, but that's not needed to tell the occupants of the deck that something huge and heavy just kissed the ship in the vicinity of the Ward Room.

Anyone who was up here when Sheridan met his end may experience a sense of deja vu as the ship rocks from impact. Loose items skitter across consoles, charts and manuals fling off into people.

Proximity alarms continue to blare, though everyone got that memo when the hull was breached — twice!

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Black Cat, Raptor-5 you're clear to launch for SAR on Case. Get her in here fast."

Praxis stumbles forward and into the plotting table when Kharon is impacted, an 'oof' sound emitting from him just as he stabilizes himself, eyes suddenly widened and looking into space as if he had just realized that they were physically hit by something. Suddenly warning lights begin to go off, red across the board on the starboard Deck 1. "Decompression alert, Deck 1 Starboard. Page Damage Control teams to that location, and for the love of the gods, seal off -" Suddenly, the second of impacts is much closer, throwing him off his feet and into some poor ECM officer, the two of them becoming a pile on the ground before he quickly picks himself up, fire burning deep within his jade eyes. Coffee and books are everywhere. "Seal off Deck 2 Starboard as well. You two." He gestures to the guards posted at the door. "Ensure that hatchway across the corridor is sealed and secure. Kavi, another damage control to Deck 2 Starboard."

Tiera holds onto her console adding a few more bruises to the ones she already has, perhaps even a few scraps from flyng objects. She quickly settles herself and checks in with her gunner, getting a status check from them. "Sir, may I fire?"

Thea's perhaps a little more used to things going bump in the night. She manages to catch herself on the console, hugging it like her very own teddy bear.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Pournelle, Raptor's got you and is limping. Hold tight. All craft, get back on deck now. Case, your SAR is incoming."

"Frak! I didn't order a pizza." Salazar swats at a mini model of a raptor as it flings off the main table and into her arm. The little ship goes flying in a tailspin, and the marine rights herself against the console, then begins barking orders into the comms as her eyes flick to the damage board. It takes her a minute to read it, because she's not used to being up here and looking at the layout. She gets on the comms and pokes the marines Nikos style.

[Into the Wireless] The S2 comes over the comms, and it's with her right frakkin' now voice. "All points, wake the frak up. Drop your cocks and grab your socks. Nikos, Parts, Clover move your teams to Deck 1 and assist with the clear. Stay out of DC's way. Jarot, Barghest, Swift, Calavera — move your ass to CIC."

[TAC1] Barghest says, "On the way!"

As they get hit, Neha's reflexes prove to be not quick enough. Sure, she grasps for the console table, but her hand-eye coordination appears to fail, and her aim falls short. Ergo, she topples onto the floor. "Oof." With a slight wince, she shakes her head a little, and calls out to Praxis, whilst scrambling to her feet, "Yes, sir!"

One of the navigations techs is holding a tissue to her lacerated head, blood spilling down her visage from some flying object or ramming her head into a console - regardless she reports, "Thirty seconds until we can jump, sirs!"

[TAC1] Damon says, "Cav, enroute."

[TAC1] Epi says, "Jarot enroute."

[Intercom] Neha says, "Attention: Damage Control, report immediately to Decks 1 and 2. I say again: Damage Control, report immediately to Decks 1 and 2!"

[Intercom] Kappel says, "Damage Control, responding to Decks 1 and 2."

The hallway between the Ward Room and CIC is mostly clear, though there is some damage from the buckling of the bulkhead. Whatever impacted here is definitely in the ward room. The hatch was closed, affording a little extra structural integrity, which is probably the only thing that saved the corridor being compromised.

Inside CIC, loose items have been tossed around, from manuals, to paperwork, to people, though they'll undoubtedly be back on their feet by the time the marines manage to navigate to their location.

There's the sound of metal on metal from inside what's left of the ward room, and that's probably not the ship settling.

Too busy burdened under the weight of the extra gear he's brought up, Damon hustles into CIC with a pair of extra assault rifles over his shoulder. "Rifles!" Damon barks out, moving to a firing position. Slugging his pack against one of the duty stations in CIC, he racks his rifle and lets it hang. Grabbing the first rifle, he prepares to toss it to someone.

Epi, all in blacks, comes jogging in with her weapon at the ready and her usual bounciness gone. Oh, yeah. Nothing like a very large group of armed people in a fairly small space.

On duty when the stuff started hitting the fan, Cinder doubletimes it on up to the CIC after checking in the Sec Hub for her serious heavy gear. She's equipped in her blacks with the body armor added to her gear. She's ducked behind one of the nav consoles, peeking over the top with her rifle there…not trained on the door especially, the safety not even off. Nervously she glances around at the others hiding behind the panels, and coming through the door as well.

Comes in as well, rifle readies though her finger is curled around the trigger guard. She sees Damon passing out the treats and sets up shop against the doorsill. She looks around furtively, as more marines start to show, and she swallows something important back down into it's proper place.

There's a saying about being in the right place at the right time. This wouldn't be one of those times. In the chaos of the hallways, Homer manages to get lost and after a few extra wrong turns, somehow ends up standing in the doorway to CIC… where everybody is packing heat. "Crap." His hands go up, palm outward.

Thea's already here, one hand on the radio as she talks to her pilots and tries to get them back in - safely. She's also leaning on a console for some odd reason.

Barghest comes in as well, rifle readiy though her finger is curled around the trigger guard. She sees Damon passing out the treats and sets up shop against the doorsill. She looks around furtively, as more marines start to show, and she swallows something important back down into it's proper place.

A damage control team's made it this far, chasing after the boom to the ship's hull with their tools and fire extinsuighers. Kappel is in front as they get to CIC and see…a load of Marines. That's /never/ good. He motions for the snipes behind him to back up and get down. "The frak?"

Praxis looks up at the clock, glancing over his shoulder once the marines begin to arrive, then makes his report. "FTL is ready to go, are all our pilots aboard?" he inquires as if someone else might have the answer. If not, he's looking to Black Cat to ensure and ask her pilots if everyone's within the hangar bay. Obviously, time is of the essence, here. A long breath is taken in through his nostrils and expelled out through his lips as if in exasperation as things get busy. "Navigation, engage the faster-than-light drive on my mark."

Tiera muttters under her breatha s the Vipers are still in the way "Can't fire yet Sir, Vipers still in the mix, once they get clear I have plots and targets" She looks over her shoulder, blinking as the room fills with Marines.

Rian is soon to join Damon, running into the CIC behind him and taking a knee beside a control panel. Peering through her helmet at the cracked hull she holds her rifle up and sights down it. Closely the Private listens, as she tunes out the frantic of her own heartbeat she soon hears the known rhythmic and heavy steps of a Cylon. "They'er in there," she speaks to Damon, not taking her eyes from the hatch.

The ship shudders and groans repeatedly as it's slammed with weapons fire. Down in the engine room, the ship's main propulsion stutters briefly as it's rocked with multiple impact wounds. All batteries pivot and fire until empty, snaring what feels like a few more raiders in their flak ring, judging by the secondary impacts made by exploded hunks of dead weight.

"Not for long." Damon replies to Rian, rather sure of himself as he takes a standing position, half covered by the console. Turning his head in the direction that Rian points him, he turns to gather a look over the Marines. Stopping as he sees Homer, the prisoner turned marine smirks and nods upwards. "You ain't dead yet, Homer?" He says, cracking a broader grin as he turns and braces his hand on the console before him to steady himself.

Salazar stands near the DRADIS console. As the marines and DC enter, she calls out, "Everyone with a weapon, back here. Anyone without a weapon, borrow one from a buddy. If you can't shoot, get your ass under cover. If you frag someone, I'll personally steal Marek's jello, kick him in the balls, then tell him you did it." That means don't shoot anyone on our side. She pulls her backup, and tosses it to Homer. "Rue, get your ass under cover. Shoot any metal that moves unless it's attached to a Colonial."

Kappel mutters under his breath, keeping his head down. Twisting his shoulders, he calls back to the DC monkeys et al. "Who's got a damn pistol? Throw the frakking fire extinguishers if you have to."

It's not as though Neha can readily explain it, but a certain feeling of deja vu comes over her as the sound of metal on metal (of the nefarious kind) crosses the threshold of her hearing. Golden-brown eyes widen and dart around the room, adrenaline starting to super-charge. It's like the Elpis all over, again. Only, this time, she doesn't have her video camera. Frak! While not abandoning her station, she tries to position herself in a manner where she has more cover. "I can shoot," the Ensign calls out, "but I'm not certain anyone wants to trust my aim."

The sound of metal hissing and melting can be heard, sparks fly in the corridor and the Centurions cut their way out of the Ward Room. ETA: less than 2 minutes.

Rian sights down her rifle, doing her best to keep her aim while the ship around her bustles and shakes.

Moving away from his position, Damon quickly gives Praxis one of the two rifles, and leaves the second rifle atop the DRADIS station. Reaching behind him, he sets an ammo bandolier down. They can fight over the clips for all he cares. Glancing around their faces, he shoves the second rifle towards Kappel, going to with rank on this one. He then gets back into position.

Despite Kavi's professional assessment of her skills, someone hands her a gun, anyway. Poor Malek and his Jell-o.

"Not yet, no," Homer says, surprise at the weapons being pointed turning into a swarthy grin. "It's the Thug. Man, I'm glad to see you." He almost forgets that he's got his back to where the Cylons are most likely to come tromping through. Almost. It's Sal's words that break through to him and he catches the pistol she throws before sinking into a firing position next to Barghest, "Hi there. Come here often?"

"Cheers," Kappel says to Damon, drily. Staying down in partial cover, he gives the rifle a quick check, things going click click. Then it's moved into firing position, and braced.

Praxis pulls the handset off of the receiver, pressing the shipwide intercom button to broadcast the fact that they'll be jumping into FTL any moment now. "All hands, prepare for FTL travel." He counts down from ten, and then slams the phone back down onto the receiver. "Jump." The navigation tech wastes no time in pushing the key into the 'ignition' so to speak, then turning it. The time and space around the ship bends and distorts before everyone blinks out of existence, only to blink back in a few moments later. He pages the 'jump complete' to the ship before taking the offered rifle from Damon, ensuring the firearm is ready to go before he swivels around the plotting table and takes cover behind it, aiming at the door.

[Intercom] Martin says, "This is Black. All birds on board that are coming. Securing Hangar."

[Intercom] Praxis says, "All hands, prepare for FTL travel. … Three, two, one. Jump. … Jump complete."

Barghest gives a look back over her shoulder at the order from Sal and, with a final look back out the door, she edges back where directed, keeping her rifle back where the ugly's likely to come from, but not where someone soft and juicy's currently standing.

Tiera grimaces as they jump then peeks her head up enough to look at her screens as her batteries flciker red, then ornage then green as they come online after the jump.

It isn't long before the centurions bust out of the Ward Room, cutting their way through the bulkhead and out into the corridor. The telltale sound of metal on metal sounds out as they whirrr-clank, whirrrr-clank their way across to CIC. There could be many out there, and the number is unknown at this moment. Sufficed to say, it is not a good day to get caught out there. Or, actually, IN here!

The Colonials have one advantage on their side, and that is they can open up as soon as they see the large metal form of a Cent glitter across the doorway. A room full of this many weapons, and this many people, can get complicated. Everyone is going to have to remember their training, or else it could go very, very badly.

The first pair of Centurions turn and move into the room while a second pair wheels in behind them, partially blocked by the bodies of their brethren. Two by two they come into the room, giving the soldiers within CIC just a second to fire first!

Thea Legacy goes a little pale when she hears that familiar whir-clank. It's kind of like hearing the distinctive whoop-whoop just as one throws the empty beer can in the back seat. She slides down beside the console she's hugging, points her gun at the door, and pulls the trigger as shiny comes through the door.

Cinder eyes the reflections of the low CIC lights on the shinies clanking and whirring through the door. Gods, they're uglier up close than she could've imagined. Thinking back to the events of Elpis, she's a little different now; now she's got a rifle. Her cheek pressed against her rifle, sighting down the barrel, she lines up with the bulk of the first toaster through the door, flips off the safety, toggles to burst, and pulls the trigger.

For the moment, Epi's not under cover - she's a Marine. Marines are meat shields after all. She slides close to Praxis, clearly on CO-protection detail, and opens fire with her rifle.

"The strong but silent type. I dig that." Homer spares just a glance at Barghest again, smile twisting into a smirk. He readies his aim then, eyes on the hatchway and when he sees metal, he pulls the firing stud. "Always with the whirring and the clanking. Fifty years of existence and you've never heard of an oilcan? Sheesh."

Tiera stays low working her console mostly by memory to make sure the ship has some protection.

Just another day on the job…Caring very little about the whole of the situation it seems, the black skinned marine keeps his dead, cold eyes pointed towards the sound of incoming trouble. "Homer, you ain't changed much…" Damon murmurs before he squeezes the trigger, keeping to controlled three-round bursts.

There is no reply from CIC to any comms or hails.

Despite wanting to assist, Kavi has to accept some cold, had facts. (1) She's not the most coordinated person; (2) Up until basic training some 3 months ago, she never fired a gun, let alone held one; (3) Although she has since fired a gun, she's just not that good at it. Like, srsly; (4) The room is full of trained Marines and other combat types; (5) She is genuinely afraid that she'll actually shoot one of them instead of a toaster. So, really, the responsible thing to do is to take cover and wait until she has no option other than to join the fray.

Rian squishes her face beneath the dark helmet as the ship jumps, her nimble body manages to keep her stance stable as things crash and burn around her. Sighted down her riffle she steps in next to Damon and lets loose a short burst towards the first Centurion she sees. Keeping her eyes on the target, "Shut up and shoot." Her voice is loud, commanding, no BS.

Barghest settles into her new position, her funger slipping back from the guard to encircle the trigger proper, glancing at her new admirer for a second. She sights down the length of her weapons as, despite her training, her skin gains the subtle sheen of leaking pores. As the first clanker sidles into the doorway, she opens a 5.56mm dialogue with the visitor.

Praxis Demitros is as fearless as ever, but even he has doubts within his mind as he kneels using the plotting table as cover, barrel of his weapon trained upon the doorway as he hears the metal shuffle of the robots approaching, or 'robits' as Temperance had so affectionately referred to them as. Epi is given a sidelong glance and a nod, but when the glint of metal comes into view, the rifle is steadied and a trained finger squeezes on the trigger, the weapon vibrating in his arms. Ah, the recoil of a rifle - it's been far too long. Hopefully the bullets would hit their mark. Unlike many in the area, he remains silent.

[Intercom] Marissa says, "Delann to Medical, we need a triage team in Hangar Bay 1 ASAP. Multiple wounded. Life support may be necessary. I say again, triage team to Hangar Bay one soonest."

Kappel is completely silent as well. Braced behind one of the consoles, his rifle is up and trained to ping bullets behind the Marines' opening fire. No, he's not a Marine-style crack shot, and no, he doesn't pray. Might have to change both after tonight.

Apparently still reeling from his headwound from a few day's prior, Damon's managed to avoid getting chewed out for taking care of it himself rather than to report to medical. It's okay, the stitches will hold. His rifle bucks three times, sending some rounds into one of the first Centurions. Not wasting any time, he fires again and again….

Cinder's volley pings the toaster across the midsection. The first shot at least causes some damage, indicated by some sparking or whatever, but the next to ricochet uselessly off the armor, thanks to the recoil throwing her aim off. She continues to track the same centurion and pulls the trigger once more.

Tiera slips into her seat, fingers flying over her controls muttering "Batteries online and green" It's not likely she's heard over the gunfire. A glance is given the DRADIS, just incase/

What does Thea do when Centurions are coming? Keeps shooting. Legacy actually manages to HIT one in the neck. Vampire Captain to the rescue. Unfortunately, it keeps coming. Point and pull becomes her mantra.

A bit late to the party, afterall Ashe had to find his Sunday best in order to make it to this point. Coming up from behind as he approaches CIC however the Marine finds that there is already a collection of visitors who are out and ready to make the fesitivites… well, festive. Sealed off from the rest of the Marines whom are in CIC, Ashe shrugs his shoulders and brings up his rifle as he approaches the Cylons from their flank. He pauses just a moment and tilts his head, sighing. "I hate this part. This One moment." The trigger is pulled.

Kappel's shot misses, the console making it hard for him to get a clear eye on things. He pulls back from the thing and stands up, trying to gain a better sight on the incoming.

Epi keeps her post near Praxis, letting her rifle spit the bullets at the Centurions. It's quite likely she's got a bone to pick with the metalheads given her latest round of wounds. Oddly, she keeps her head tucked in slightly, almost as if she's protecting her neck.

Neha hates this. She really, REALLY hates this. Sure, the possibility of getting shot sucks, but that isn't what concerns her. After all, she readily risked that to get film footage on the Elpis. The fact that she's pretty much useless in a firefight? That's totally killing her. All she really can do is pray to the gods that no one gets hurt.

Homer quips at Damon, "You know me. I'm a talker. Remember those yokels that attacked Harkin's Lodge?" A beat. "I'm totally imagining these tin cans in leopard print tights and knit sweater." Leveling his weapon for another couple of shots, he fires again. Barghest gets a: "Nice shooting!" Encouragement.

Praxis' teeth clamp down on each other as he watches the bullets scream out from his gun and slam into the Centurions that are advancing through the door. The clang of bullets denting metal is satisfying, but there's no dropping of the robot. Like he expected that to happen, anyway. "Corporal Jarot, persist to attack my target, if you would be so kind," the XO mentions amongst the firing weapons, his voice loud enough for her to hear. He's subtly thankful for her presence so close nearby.

The Centurions fan out slightly as they enter the room, the large metal bodies heavily thunking across the decking. They move in closer to the soldiers. Two more are out in the hall, still out of the line of sight and line of fire of the Colonials in CIC.

Heavy fire pings off of the metal bodies, and there's more than a little ricochet in the shooting gallery that has become CIC's main entrance. Bullet proof glass chips in the exit doors, but does not crack.

Any marines or personnel coming up from AFT, however, will have to deal with them.

Barghest's burst joins a choir of disapproval, dotting a few places on her target, though to disappointing marginal effect. With the rounds her rifle is carrying, her best bet might just be…. The muzzle climbs, and with a hissed, 'Frakkin' heap!' she squeezes off a round at that sweeping red light in the middle of that bell on top of the slagging thing's shoulders.

Rian tucks her rifle in right where she likes it, against her jaw and shoulder. Once she has the target with one shot the last one hitting it square in the chest with no damage. Damn toasters are tough. She switches to three round bursts, a toothy joyless smile coming to her lips as the shots ring in her ears. Aiming for the same enemy and pulls steady down on the trigger and lets em fly.

There is a decided (and completely involuntary) yelp of surprise as Kavi gets shot at. The bullet misses and she scurries to get more fully under cover.

Tiera flattens herself against her console as bullets fly her direction, flinching…if you pretend the bullets can't find you, they can't right????

Epi's response to Praxis is a chirped, "Yes SIR!" Someone taught the little Marine well. With just a simple little click on her weapon, she starts shooting more bullets.

Ashe manages to only barely duck back behind a corridor as he realizes that the Centurion he was lining up a shot on in fact wasn't the tail but rather the other two shooting at him were. Ducking back behind the corridor comes as a light stink hits his leg and he grumbles. "Ah, so we want to play it tough, do we metal brain?" Patting his rifle, Swift nods. "Play it tough? We play it tough. Let me introduce you to divinity." Turning back out, he depresses a series of fire at the Centurions before ducking back once more quickly.

Legacy continues to fire from her little perch near the side of a console. Two shots, two hits, and hers goes down under a hail of fire. There's no hesitation, though, as she moves to the next one.

Damon can't help but smirk as he brings the first Centurion down. Catching the form of Tiera ducking and covering against her console in his peripheral vision, he calls out to her. "Reyn! Stay put!" Turning his back foot to the side to brace himself, he lines up his next target and keeps firing.R

For the first time in live fire or training exercises, Cinder is caught by a bullet..two, actually. These two hit her in the chest, causing her to fall back from her cover. Grimacing at the pain in shoulder and breast, not knowing what the damage is, but fueled by adrenaline, Cinder climbs back to her kneel, just in time to see the first toaster fall down, dead or whatever. "Mother frakkers! Goddamn OW!" she yells out, flipping her rifle to full auto to unload most of the rest of her clip on the next to Centurions to catch her eye.

PING TING PING - HOLYCRAPBULLETS. Praxis ducks his head as the Centurions spew fire at them, watching sparks from the bullet and sharapnel richocheting. The coffee mug on the table gets hit by a stray and shatters into a million pieces, caffeinated liquid spreading over and getting all of his tactical papers and folders wet. "I do not believe words can describe my anger - presenting coffee stained reports to the Commander will just not be sufficient." Grinding his teeth together, he pops back up over the table and returns fire. "Receive this, you well-polished mechanical entities!" Okay, so Demitros isn't great at the whole mid-battle talking thing. Maybe he'll just shut up.

Barghest hisses as her shot goes off before she gets her barrel off of his 'gut, the round making a richochet ping louder than any reassuring clatter of collapsing scrapyard. As the intruders opt to hose the room down, she decides return the favor with a, "Less talk, more rock!" as an aside.

Rian ducks beneath the control pannel as the cylons open fire, her eyes closing and one hand covering the side of her helmet. The sound and vibrations of the bullets hitting the other side of the pannel can be felt against her shoulder. With a deep breath she rises slightly from the cover on her knee, targeting the closest toasters head and squeezes the trigger.

Kappel hits one, lightly but it's enough for what needs be done. Turning the rifle to the next target he can see, he calls back to the unarmed snipes behind him to stay the hell down. Not that they need too much encouragement; this shit isn't their job.

Ah the spray of gunfire. Homer smiles, dropping down behind his cover when the full auto is applied by the Centurions. "This brings back fond memories," he shares conversationally with Barghest. The poor woman can't exactly run away from him in the middle of a fire fight now can she? Of course, then she's being all grrr, so he offers a, "Yes ma'am." Up from behind cover he comes to fire off some more rounds at his target.

The centurions open up on the room, spraying rounds through the CIC like it's ritual sacrifice day, and they saw a gobbler run around the corner. One of them goes down in a joint hail of fire, but another three continue to advance on the room, undaunted by the death of their brother. Bullets and light slide off of their armor, some penetrating, but it's a fearsome sight! Out in the corridor, 2 of the machines advance on the one man backup that's rounded the bend.

"Open up, marines!" Salazar is a woman of few words when the bullets are flying, and even less when they wouldn't be heard anyway! Her bellow may be partially lost in the hail of fire, but everyone in this room knows what they should be doing anyhow!

Tiera keeps at her console workign frantcially to keep the guns onlone as bullets flash and zip around her. She flinches as some get a little close. She doesn't look around, trusting the Marines to do thier job on this.

It isn't even so much a bullet that plunks Ashe, rather a richocet off of a nearby bulkhead that plunks his chest, most likely leading to a bruise. "Ow." He comments dryly glancing around the corner momentarily to make sure the two centurions in the corridor keep their attention on him. Realizing that one of them hasnt' been shot at he whistles over at it. "Yoohoo. Mr. Shiny. Got something for you." A series of bullets rings out and he ducks back.

As her last shot missed, Thea breaks cover in an attempt to get a better shot. She's still pulling the trigger, shot after shot after shot.

[Intercom] Sparro says, "Hangar bay to CiC, please respond…"

[Intercom] There is no reply from CIC.

Epi helps Praxis down shiny number two then moves her attentions onto another one, lips pursed. "Sir," she tells Praxis. "You might want to get under a bit more cover, please." So polite as she's spraying bullets around CIC.

When the next hail of bullets comes at Cinder, she's lucky enough to get her fullauto burst off and pull back under the cover of the console. There's a pinging, clanging sound as the Centurion's volley sinks into the shielding metal there. Her shoulder beginning to throb a little, she checks her ammo situation, then pops back up, targeting the next Centurion in line. She doesn't see that her fullauto volley, not so precisely aimed practically blows the Centurion's arm off, before other bullets bring it down.

Barghest gives a yelp as something fast moving does a to and through on her thigh, and the big woman sinks some as the muscles slacken in shock. She blinks a moment, then with a growl, she grits her teeth and lights up her new buddy from groin to grin.

Rian swings her rifle around her shoulder and crouches down behind the pannel, letting the bullets fly above. Keeping her arms and legs in she inches over behind more cover. "Dear Ares, if you can hear me and ya got the time, we could use a little help down here." she whispers to herself.

The XO's battle-insults may have been weak in the wit, however it seem to have paid off anyhow when all three of the bullets from his strike rip into some critical parts of the Centurion, and with the combined effort of the rest of the Marines, they render that particular target inoperative. "Excellent," says the command member, his features still placid and fearless. Again from his perch at the table, he chooses the next robot over and begins to empty more rounds into it. "What do you suggest, Corporal? I cannot say there are many opportunities for such at this locale," he replies, after he's fired.

Kappel stands up as the he spots the centurions' rifles swinging in a direction that isn't him, taking the chance to get a better shot off on the third clunker storming its way through CIC. Rifle butt jammed against his shoulder, he gets a sight on the thing and opens up.

Homer ducks once again and admits, "I think they might be angry." He adjusts his grip on his weapon and comes back up again, firing some more. "My name is Homer, by the way," he chews off at Barghest right about when she's growling and firing, so it probably is missed.

[Intercom] Sparro says, "Pass the word, we need medical personnel on the Hanger bay immediatly. Any available medical personal please report to the Hangar bay immediatly…"

Still half covered by the console, Damon simply keeps firing. Quiet and emotionless, he fires one burst after another next to Rian. During a lull in the firing he lets out a quiet scowl at some of the cross chatter. All business in the face of death, Damon keeps the line, not giving the Centurions an inch of his position.

The hail of bullets continues, thudding into consoles, sparking, shattering computer screens, and generally making the biggest frakkin' mess you have ever in your life seen in CIC. Fire springs up in the back, rendering the ECM console virtually useless.

Very little but the sound of gunfire can be heard in the room, the constant spray of rounds from the spinning LMGs mounted on the arms of the Centurions drown out everything else!

Rian rises from beneath the consol, taking aim and stance in only seconds as she stares down the new target. Squinting now she tries to keep her eyes on the target as many of the electric bodies spark in peices on the deck. Moving over she bump's Damons foot with her boot gently so not to frak is aim. "Take point," she bellows to him, gesturing with her helmet towards the doorway where they are coming from.

Another richocet of bullet bounces off his helmet and for once Ashe is rather greatful for the piece of equipment as he quickly ducks back into the corridor. "Well shinies, I really hate to disappoint you. But you're about to have a very bad taste in your mouth. Or head, or something." Leaning back out, he lines up quickly a shot and pulls the trigger before getting back to his cover.

Pvt Torres goes down in the back, fire thudding into his vest. He falls behind a console, and is promptly spattered with glass. No huge pools of blood happen around him, so his vest probably stopped the worse of it. The sniper is knocked down and is out, having cracked his head or somesuch. It's unlikely it'll be noticed till the firing stops, one way or the other.

CIC is beginning to look like someone threw it through a wood chipper, consoles cracked and decimated, glass shattered with multiple impacts. The hull sucks up a lot of rounds. Sparks and melting plastic fill the room with a perfume of melting/burning scents. Every technie nerd's worst nightmare come true.

As the bullets continue to fly, Neha stays tucked in her hidey hole, but the nagging feelings of uselessness and guilt are growing increassingly corrosive. Again, she avoids getting shot, and something inside 'clicks'. Perhaps she'll end-up doing more harm than good, were she to start shooting, but she's absolutely not helping at all where she is. Steeling herself, she resolves to take her chances, and simply hopes that Tyche will reward her efforts.

Tiera flinches away from teh ECM as the hail of bullets impact it, almost cuddles her Weapons console, she tries to shout over the gunfire, but it's likely she's not heard even by anyone next to her "Weapons Green, No hostiles on scan!" She flinches as bullets flick her uniform as they narrowly msis her once again.

Damon glances to Rian. Despite recognizing her as being equal rank, he nods and glances back over his shoulder to check the firing lines. "Peeling!" Damon calls out, rolling across Rian's back and heading low. Keeping his head down, he races to get to a closer position, hoping to slide in place against a console near the hole in the wall.

Thea remains out of cover, continuing to shoot. She glances briefly at Tiera, but only for a half second.

"Well, Sir," Epi says to Praxis, voice quiet and almost relaxed. "You could crouch down a bit further. I'd really hate to have to take bullets for you while keeping these toasters from turning you into CO S'mores." And yes, she continues shooting.

Cinder's got one shot left…where to use it? The last burst ricocheted uselessly off another toaster's shiny head. This one has to die. "Ares…help me with this, ya? I think this is the frakker that shot me before…" Cinder says, mostly to herself, as she grits her teeth, lines her shot with the Centurion's head, and pulls the trigger for her magazine's last round.

Barghest empties the last of her magazine into the Centurion, to depressingly minimal effect. From now on, she's carrying a mag full of AP if she has to wear out her bedsprings to get them! Meanwhile, as her rifle finally goes click, the huge blonde ducks down behind her cover and works at trading the empty mag for a fresh one. There's a glance to Homer again and, as she rams the clip home, she says, "Hi."

While everyone is ducking for cover on the onset of LMG rounds, Praxis does as well but he also watches all of his equipment go up in a furious hail of sparks and shattering glass. His expression cringes. "Gods dammit, I just had a damage control team in here yesterday." he mutters beneath his breath before he looks sidelong at the Corporal. "I appreciate your concern, but I am certainly not going to cancel my subscription to life hiding behind a tabl-" More rounds shower and he inevitably ducks down lower like she says. "Okay. Perhaps you made the correct call on that one." However, he steadies his rifle carefully and squeezes off a single round to a Centurion-head. Boom, headshot, I hope?

Kappel braces his leg against the console behind him. The recoil from the rifle is killer when you're not used to it. Scratch one rotator cuff. He keeps his sights on the same centurion and pulls the trigger again, this time aiming a burst of fire at the closest cylon.

Homer, even with the cacophony filling the CIC, doesn't stop talking conversationally. Perhaps it helps him cope. Of course, when Barghest actually responds to him once, he just says, "Hi," back and smiles. Like a dope. "Oh right, imminent death." Up he goes again and this time he takes a long second to aim, eyes narrowing.

Two additional marines round the corner after repeated attempts to hail CIC fail. MSGT doesn't do well with sitting around when his ship is in danger. Parts with the assist! Ashe is no longer alone out there.

Tiera turns looking for her CO "Yelling out "Captain!" Who knows he might hear her over the automatic fire. Agian her luck holds it seems as more bullets flick nearby, dinging ff her consoles and those near her. One leaves a burn across her arm, causing her to gasp adn cover the arm.

Finally the Centurions seem to get pissed off at him enough to flip over to the full auto. Ashe barely manages to get back, several heavy thuds of rounds hitting his vest at various points and one even clipping his hand. Cursing, grumbling a little bit on top of it he manages to see reinforcements arriving. The Corporal smirks a bit and calls out, "About damns time. What did you stop for brunch on the way up?" Looking around his corridor cover, he takes a moment then lines up another shot and states out rather loudly for the other Marines to hear, "One mind, one goal, one shot." The trigger is pulled and he's ducking back once more.

The careful sighting…it all goes to waste. The bullet aimed at the Centurion's head pings uselessly off the armor…maybe even in the same spot Cinder just hit! As her rifle clicks empty, Cinder drops back down into cover, gritting her teeth and putting a hand over her shoulder, before snatching out another ammo clip and ramming it home into her rifle. Hissing in pain through gritted teeth (remember, first time she's been shot!), she thinks back to the Major and all, deciding this is rabbit turds compared to the hit he took. "ARGH!" she yells out for no particular reason.

Holy 'Roid Rage of Ares! Neha actually managed to hit one of the toasters. Exhilarated does not begin to express how she feels. "Thanks, Tyche," she murmurs before doing her best to line-up another shot

Epi tilts her head slightly to the side and makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat. "I'm a Marine, Sir," she says demurely, clearly attempting to show the XO the proper respect amidst the hail of bullets. "We're wise in the ways of combat." There's a pause as she pulls off three more rounds. "And women, too, if you ask the male Marines. Which only goes to show you that wisdom's overrated. Seriously, Sir. I need for you to keep nice and low. If you have to shoot, shoot around me."

Barghest replies, "Squeeze, don't yank." helpfully to her new friend as she slips back into her firing position and decides to lay into the bucket that's been taking the beating so far.

Kappel hits one, though the bullet manages to ping off the thing's armor. "Frak. Need to start making flak vests for the Marines out of this shit." The Lieutenant keeps the rifle up and the bullets on, doing his best as his shoulder continues getting more and more rubbery. REMF pride, yo.

It takes Thea this long to realize that, wow, Toasters are shooting at her. No, really. Seriously. That was a bullet that just bounced off the console next to her. Finally, she settles herself back down behind cover. Much better.

Frak this. Damon reloads his rifle and moves to a closer position. Actually leaving cover to move a little closer, he drops to one knee and slides across the floor to lean against a console. Bringing his rifle up, he flips the iron sights to line up on a Centurion and opens fire.

It is apparently only while aiming that Homer can be completely silent. Quiet, he let's off another shot, this time a bit more well-aimed. "Thanks for the tip, sugar."

Rian continues to send out screaming bullets to the uninvited guests, glancing to Damon as he moves. Cover fire, cover fire, she's learned that much so far. "Once this guys down make your way to that corridor, I will follow and cover." Rian screams to Damon, motioning with her hands what she is saying between her bursts of enemy fire supression.

Salazar barely catches bits and pieces of various yelling and conversations going on amid the ridiculous spray of ammunition going on in the CIC. WIth the pare metal that's flying around in here, they could probably build a new FLEET of vipers. "Where the frak do they hold all that ammo?" She wonders aloud, and largely to herself, under her breath, through clenched teeth, as bits of metal, glass, plastic, paper, and probably blood rain down on her position, sticking in her hair. Everyone's going to come out of this with console confetti in their underwear, just like the partygoers in Munich during Oktoberfest. Um. If we had Munich and Oktoberfest. Maybe we did, once, on Aerelon or something. Good drinkers, them.

"Yes you are, Corporal." Praxis says with a nod after striking the Centurion in the abdomen. Instead of popping out over the table, he'll bend off to the side and shoot around Epi as she asks him to. "Unfortunately I'm not entirely certain if your prowess on females will be of much assistance at this juncture," comes the mutter, keeping his head down as more of the walking battle tanks shower bullets down on their heads. This is the most excitement CIC has had in ages. Demitros checks the ammo level on his rifle, and then squeezs off a three-round burst at the Centurion they've been wheedling down.

True enough, the bullet pinged off the Centurion, probably not leaving even a nick, but it just hitting the target bolsters Neha's confidence. Enough so that she takes aim, yet again.

Barghest grins humorlessly, "Anytime." Her burst doesn't do nearly as much as the S2's does, though, at least the damn thing is showing signs of their efforts. A moment's consideration, and her barrel swings to the left a bit to keep the other two Centurions honest.

Tiera's luck runs out this tiem as two bullets slam into her. Her cry of pain drowned out by the sounds of combat she slides out of her seat, leaving a trail of blood. Her chest a bloody mess as one of the bullets nearly missed her heart. As she lays next to her post the blood begins to pool under her.

Her rifle reloaded, with shots hitting on the destroyed panel she's using for cover, Cinder pops back up to target the last Centurion. Spotting Rian moving toward the door, she gets to her feet as well. Setting the rifle against her (thankfully) uninjured shooting shoulder, Cinder begins to advance on the heavily damaged Centurion, to help in clearing the way to the trapped comrades.

Epi's lips thin and she continues to shoot. "It's better than yours, Sir," she replies, head tilting a bit as she steps to the side, attempting to get a better shot. "I'm not the one who found myself caught in the priest's mousetrap." One more shot gets pulled off. "Of course, I'm certain that if you wanted to gnaw off your own leg, other folks in Medical would be happy to help." She's quiet for a moment. "Sir? You're supposed to hit the target. Not the walls. Just imagine that the target is a misplaced comma."

Ashe gets back behind cover once more, but not before the thudding of bullets strike his chest and the flak vest, knocking the partial wind out of him. Sliding back against the corridor wall, he turns a little to peer around then glances at his feet. "Where the frak did all that blood come from?" He asks himself then blinks, "Oh sonuva — That doc put me on those meds." Shaking the thought off, he leans back around and opens fire with his rifle.

Thea remains under cover, trigger finger pulling on her weapon time after time after time. She seems to be in that zone where she'll keep pulling until it's empty.

Kappel keeps the fire on that one damn cylon that just won't die. His mind's probably already on what they might possibly patch on that wrecked hull with the titatnium (or whatever it is) flesh of these dead things.

Not far from Tiera, Damon narrows his eyes as he sees that she clearly is hit. Moving away from his covered position, he quickly rushes with his head down over to her. Opening fire towards the Cylons one more time, he reaches down to grab the back of her shirt. "Cover me!" He calls out, dragging her back towards the rear of the firefight.

"That a promise?" Homer doesn't look over at Barghest, but he does waggle his eyebrows. Incorrigible, is he. "Okay, joke time." He rises from behind cover for another shot or two, squeezing it off and then ducking back down, "Knock knock."

There's no time for anyone to move to treat Tiera, not with the amount of fire that's going in this room. It's barely sane to move, to raise a weapon. And the cents continue, one making its way, dinged to hell, sparking itself, to spray a desperate wash of ammunition at the colonies holed up in the command center. Most of the lights are out, but that's okay, because a warm glow of several sparking consoles, AND the fire that used to be the ECM terminal lends a certain hellish orange cast.

The other two centurions, still in the corridor, are almost on top of the other marines, and are headed deeper into the ship, the spray of weaponry barely giving them pause.

Praxis gives Epi the most /incredulous/ of looks as she speaks, the XO nearly too shocked to even fire back at the assailants. His jaw unhinges as he lingers on the edge of speechlessness, until out of the corner of his peripheral vision he sees a couple of rounds penetrate into Tiera's chest. "Shit." he growls beneath his breath. "I'll show you frakkin' aiming, Corporal." Up and over onto the table he goes again, letting one more burst go into the centurion.

Rian notices the change in direction of Damon and fallows suit. Seeing Cinder come up by her she makes sure to have a clear shot before, pulling down on the trigger and laying down cover fire as Damon grabs the injured crewmate.

Tiera lays there, where Damon dragged her bleeding out slowly.

As the last centurion in CIC goes down, and the warm glow of a homey campfire spreads, the alarms which have been blaring can be heard, just barely. Everyone in this room is probably suffering some effects of hearing loss. Talk about going to the firing range with NO ear protection. The ringing is undoubtedly affecting the ability to hear each other or the comms, yelling will need to happen to pass messages.

Out in the corridor, the two remaining centurions are just a few feet from Swift, Parts, and MSGT, about to cross right past their positions of cover, which will not be good for them in the least!

Salazar yells, "COMING OUT. CLEAR THE LINE OF FIRE!" She lifts a hand and motions the marines forward, pointing to those who haven't taken heavy injuries (DOVER, DAMON, CINDER, BARGHEST, EPI) to move and take up positions in the hall. The rest she motions to stay where they are. Only so many people can move out, and the most highly trained are sent to do their job. "Warn the rest of the ship!" She bellows, though it's questionable if that entire thing will be heard given the ruckus outside.

Thea, apparently, speaks S2 fairly fluently. Gun in one hand, she dives for the com she abandoned earlier. Slapping her hand down on it, she shouts a message.

[TAC1] "Dash" Martin says, "Wolf Four to Kharon, do you read, over?"

"I feel like I'm shooting a BB gun at a freight train," Homer quips, rolling his eyes at the weapon in his hands. "Sally, you have any AP rounds or you want I should just throw this thing at the next Centurion I see and then try harsh words?" While he doesn't follow the Marines outward, he does remain in the defensive position he's been holding.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Black Cat, all units. CIC under attack. Boarding party. DO NOT APPROACH. Get medical teams staged in Bay1. CAP continue, all others land."

Bullet after bullet strikes Ashe, some getting through his armor, some simply missing and some driving through to strike flesh underneath. But through it all, the Marine keeps ducking under cover and then popping back out to open fire when the window presents. As Parts comes over to patch up a few wounds, Swift nods his thanks then looks up as the Centurions are approaching. The last line between them and the rest of the ship is well, himself, Parts, and Nikos. Glancing at the others as bullets rip them, he nods his head and stands up more fully, stepping out and opening fire on the Cylons to dry and push them back.

Epi eyes Praxis briefly. "Stay put, Sir," she murmurs, then jogs up to join Salazar, reloading as she goes.

"Shut the frak up, Rue. Treat the wounded, and stay out of my face." Oh, Salazar is not in the mood for the fun loving gambler today! She advances without a backward glance, trusting the marines indicated to follow her and take up positions, high and low, to clear the door.

Barghest gives a, "What?" as the ringing in her ears changes somewhat with the man's attempt at humor. She catches Sal's gestures, though, and those make perfect sense to her. She tosses Homer a quick thumbs up and breaks cover, creeping up toward a good spot to renew her attempts to quell the Cents. She doesn't look at the wounded, she can't, not now. She needs focus, now.

Dragging Tiera to the back of the line, Damon doesn't bother twice in leaving her there to continue the fight. Moving into the corridor, he keeps his weapons, following his group forward. He wouldn't, after all, want Commissar Salazar to shoot him for cowardice.

While Legacy dives for the com, Praxis pulls the phone from the receiver and presses the mouthpiece up close to his lips. He does precisely what the S2 tells him to do - warns the rest of the ship of the Centurions aboard. It is from that point forward he slings the rifle back over his shoulder and moves over to tend to Reyn. "Get that FTL spooled up again. Captain Legacy, get a report from your vessels and inquire as to what's been happening out there." He rubs at his deafened ear, before quickly jogging over and kneeling over Tiera. "Neha, toss me the first aid kit!"

Even if she can't hear the S2, Cinder can see her moving toward the door. Lowering her rifle to keep from shooting anyone who might cross into her line of fire, she skirts from behind the console around the perimeter of the CIC to the door, coming at it from the opposite side as the S2 and Rian, careful to keep out of the way of the door as she approaches. Getting out into the hall safely, she manages to get one of the remaining Centurions in her sights, and pulls the trigger on a burst of bullets.

Rian nods towards the S2 and allows the more experienced Marines take over the mess in the hall. Within an instant her attention is turned to where Damon dragged the injured woman. Blood pouring out of her the private runs to her side, kneeling and putting her palms on her chest putting pressure down to stop the bleeding.

[Intercom] Praxis says, "Intruder alert! Deck 2 Fore, CIC. I say again, intruder alert! Centurions have breached the Kharon."

Announcement: Nemesis shouts, "To be clear, no one else will have time to get to CIC before it's over, unless they kill us all. Will keep you updated!"

With ringing ears, it takes a moment for Kavi to find her bearings. It takes her even longer to find the med kit. "Where the frak IS it?!" Searching through debris, she winces as she slices the fingertips of her right hand. Shaking it out, with a wince, she finally espies the necessary box and rushes it over to the XO.

"Yeah. I wield a mean bandaid," Homer quips back sarcastically and rolls his eyes. The pistol in his hands is shoved into the back of his pants and he moves over towards Praxis and Tiera. A look to the Captain and he notes, as he sinks to his knees, "I know squat about first aid, sir, but I'm a good pair of extra hands."

Parts is naught but a smear on the deck, his arm severely compromised by the bullets, and his chest opened up, bullet having torn right through his ribcage. His heart was only nicked, though the rounds did penetrate his lung, giving him a little time to disgorge most of his blood onto the floor before the cessation of circulation, leaving a wide, slippery pool of red that the centurions and Colonials alike will have to move through.

The Centurions continue to advance, a spray of rounds rockets down the hall from the spinning LMG on their arms, cutting across Ashe's position and peppering him and his comrades. Several rounds smack into Parts' body with hollow, dead thuds of ammo on flesh, kicking up stilled blood, bits of flesh, and bone.

One Cent falls, leaving one standing, just one to wreck more savage havoc on the flesh and blood soldiers in the path of its guns.

While Rian is keeping pressure on the wounds of his Weapons technician, Praxis retrieves the aid kit from Neha and begins to open it, looking up at Homer when he approaches. "I believe it would be prudent to give her slightly more than a band-aid." he mentions with a slight smirk, pulling out the gauze and placing it beneath Rian's pressure. He hopes he's doing this right, else Camille would kick his ass. "Thank you, Private," the XO mentions. As much as everyone would like to help, it really doesn't take a million people to do first aid. Rian's holding down the fort on this one. "The rest of the kit is at your disposal. Keep her breathing until we are able to get a stretcher and her down to sickbay."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Black Cat copy, Dash. Get Madman's raptor back on the ship then get yourself on ASAP. I think we're going to spool."

Peppered, sprayed, sauted and swissed. Ashe has eaten his fair share of richocets, shrapnel bits, and bullets. His flak vest is nothing but shards upon his body at this point having been cut up and multiple bullet wounds stream fresh blood. As he steps out to try and stare down the Centurions, he gets cut down. Then slowly, he rises up slipping on blood to present one valiant last stand against the Centurion to keep it from progressing down the corridor. "Go to hell." The man spits out, teeth reddened with blood and spit matching suit. The last rounds of his rifle spray out free as he fires upon the Centurion, leaning against the corridor wall.

When Ashe goes down, Cinder decides that her ineffective shots with the rifle would be better forgotten for now. She kneels down next to Ashe, and manages a smirk. Her own shoulder bleeding, she reaches into her vest and pulls out some of the rudimentary first aid supplies she has. "How's it make you feel to know it's me patching you up?" she manages to jok a bit.

Thea gets the report from Dash then fast-tracks it to Praxis. "We need to get spooled up ASAP, Sir, if possible. Madman will be back in fifteen or so." Dear Gods she hopes so. That's clear on her face. "They jumped the device out and will jump back."

First Parts, then Tiera, then Ashe…people are dropping like flies. However, Damon does manage to notice that the Cylon hasn't been paying too much attention to him through the firefight. Shouldering his rifle, he narrows his eyes and rises, drawing a bead for the center eye of the large, metallic being. Not even sparing a glance at Ashe as he goes down, Damon instead rises and presents himself as a wall that he simply refuses to let the Cylon past. He'd better make this one count…

Barghest's eyes widen as the Cents hose down Parts and Ashe and, the MP cries, "No!" as at least one of the two is probably done for. She starts to move forward at a less cautious, if not foolhardy pace and she opens up with a howl of, "BASTAAAAAAARRRRD!" until the bastard hits the deck…. or the rifle goes 'click!'

Epi gets up to where Salazar mentioned - and sees Ashe. There's a growl, a very low growl, as she opens fire on that last Centurion. She says nothing, but the woman just unloads. It's the look in her eyes that says it all.

Rian nods to the XO but doesn't bother saying anything to him, he wouldn't be able to hear much anyway. Using the gauze she holds the pressure on the wound with one hand and uses the other to brush blood and sweat mixed hair from the woman's face, "you're going to be FINE." She screams it to her, wanting to be heard over all the commotion, and not having any sense of internal volume control from the ringing in her ears.

"A /big/ bandaid then?" Homer says with a smirk back at Praxis, it disappates when he gets a good look at Tiera and her wounds. Pushing back to his feet, he puts a hand out to steady himself on a piece of wrecked CIC furniture. "There isn't enough paint in the Twelve Colonies to cover up what just happened here." A glance to the bullet pocked walls and he moves over towards Torres, reaching down to touch his throat.

The son of a bitch's head deflected the bullet! Damon can hardly believe his eyes as the thing simply seems to be made of tougher things than he's used to. Flipping back to three round burst due to the proximity, Damon squares his feet and in a pose of utter defiance he holds his goddamned ground.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "CIC is NOT secure, Birdman. Get medical staged down there NOW. We've got a hell of a lot of injured. I'll alert when we're secure. Dash, gimme the countdown."

Barghest, for all her training and righteous indignation, simply ends up turning a perfectly good magazine into noise. And, for the roaring clamor of a heated firefight, it yet pales in comparison to the all encompassing 'click'. The MP hunkers down small and swiftly as she can, tries to swap out a new magazine, ideally, before the Centurion turns his attention back their way.

With Cylon rounds pinging and richocheting around her, Cinder manages to shakily begin treating some of Ashe's wounds. Staunching the bleeding on some of the wounds enough to keep him fighting with some effect, Cinder continues to play doctor.

"What now, sir?" Yeah, Neha's at a bit of a loss. Quickly darting her eyes around the room, turning her head this way and that, the Ensign appraises the damage. "We… we should alert the others…" Without thinking, she starts dashing towards the horn.

Battle-Mode Praximus Maximus stands up from the fallen body of the weapons tech and looks to Legacy at her suggestion, a curt nod in agreement. "My sentiments exactly. Nav, assuming there are not too many holes in your console, get the FTL ready to go for when our Raptor returns," he orders. It's at this point he finally takes his station at the plotting table. "Ensign Kavi, Petty Officer Daiasu, Lieutenant Beckett, Lieutenant Tanner, take your stations even if inoperative." CIC personnel are also often trained to jerry-rig their devices so that they will work. "They're alerted, Kavi."

With Cylon rounds pinging and richocheting around her, Cinder manages to shakily begin treating some of Ashe's wounds. Staunching the bleeding on some of the wounds enough to keep him fighting with some effect, Cinder grabs for her rifle, kneeling on the metal floor, and lining up a burst shot at the last toaster.

"Aye, sir," Kavi nods, a little breathless, and then hauling badonkadonk back to her station. Using her boot, she pushes aside some debris by her chair, then brushes some glass off the seat. It's then that she starts checking what — if anything — is malfunctioning and attempts to jury-rig where necessary.

"Damage control," Kappel can finally /hear/ more than the nauseating ringing in his ears. He can only assume the other engineers can too, and if not, they're in trouble. "On your feet. Any damaged consoles the Major needs working, get them working. Use your chewing gum if you have to." He lowers his rifle, blood staining the shoulder of his uniform as he grabs up one of their fix-it kits.

MSGT Nikos goes down as he's literally torn in half by the spray of hot lead from the LMG the single remaining centurion sports. His large body falls, muscles ruined by the weaponry, and the savage path the ammo took through his body. He'll cool rapidly, with the majority of his blood already pumped onto the floor, warm flesh already taking on the pallor of death, his dark eyes wide, open, staring.

Like the raiders before him, there's something a little off about this Centurion targeting Ashe after it's taken down his brethren. Something more angry, more deadly, more focused, perhaps. It does not turn to the greater force filling it with holes abaft. It advances, again, to be sure the job is done.

Salazar Nikos gets a perfect view of the death of her cousin, framed between bulkhead and the body of the chromed bullethead who took his life. Her eyes are fixed, through her hearing is deadened by the decibels spilled out into the metal rooms, the tiny corridor. She doesn't even breathe, just shoots, and her body goes cold. It has nothing to do with the blood dripping from her shoulder. Her lips part, no words pass, but her trigger finger squeezes.

[Intercom] Pike says, "All points Medical, this is Dr. Pike. Day shift personnel report to sickbay immediately for emergency triage. Night shift personnel remain where you are and render aid on-site as necessary. Maintain until further notice."

Cinder attempts to treat his wounds, and Ashe pushes up off against the side of the corridor he's leaning on levelling his eyes on the Centurion. "Try it you big metal son of a bitch." The words come out cold and level towards the Centurion, rifle lifting up in his act of defiance. "Try it." Taunting the enraged machine? Absolutely.

Thea takes the time to speak on the Coms, nodding to Praxis as she goes, and trying desperately to keep out of damage control's way.

Epi, well, she's got that stunned, cold look on her face. It must be an EOD thing, because Epi and Salazar are wearing idential expressions.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Dash, you and Case stay out until the last minute before we jump."

Thea looks over at Praxis and offers, quietly, "With the thing gone, Sir, they won't, likely, jump here. Is there any way we can spool to jump and not jump until we see whether or not they come after us?"

Praxis inclines his head at Legacy. "We will keep the jump drive at full rotation speed until the forty-two minute mark," he proposes to her with a nod. "However, keeping it at that condition may stress our systems and consume resources. I do not wish to keep it spinning for longer than I have to - in fact, I wouldn't quite mind hazarding another jump even after the forty-two minute mark."

See, now she's mad. Salazar is fit to be tied. She reloads, throwing the old mag so hard it bounces off of a bulkhead. What the frak. Frakkety frak. DIe motherfrakker die die die die. Oh, look. It finally does die. The S2 drops her weapon, the no no or no nos. "Take care of it," she says to the marines around her. Her tone is flat. Loosely translated, that means get the injured to medical, make sure that Centurion is dead, and call clean up, then secure the XO. The usual stuff, and everyone's trained for it. "Report to the Sec Hub and stow the weapons when you're through."

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "All Air-Wing units, get your tails down on the deck now. Kharon is preparing to jump soon. Madman, you left the flaming package on someone else's doorstep, yes?"

As the chromium juggernaut finally collapses under the concentrated fire arrayed against it, Bar's rifle sags deckward for a moment. She wills the post-fight shakes back, her hand white-knuckling around the grip of her weapon. Her head swivels back toward the S2 at her words, about to say something, though, she seems to think better of it. Instead, she trips her headset and calls into the com.

During the last sequence of intense firefight, another bullet drives into Ashe's arm and one more slices his neck. Staggering back, the Marine falls upon the blood slicked floor and lays there, looking up at the ceiling as the sound of bullets continues to ring in his head. Vision around the edges begins to blur and just before it snaps completely away to darkness, the sound of a collapsing metal machine touches his ears. The beautiful noise brings a smile to his lips as the Marine drifts off.

Damon looks to the dead bodies around the room and then to Salazar. His cold, quiet eyes settle on her unblinking. Not even reaching out to her or giving her a word of condolence, he simply nods his head and bends down to grab her rifle. "Consider it done." Damon says flatly, as a man with little soul to him. With his rifle trained on the downed Cylon, Damon creeps forward to make sure it's lights have gone out.

[TAC1] Barghest says, "CiC secured. Medical teams to CiC on the double!"

[Into the Wireless] Barghest says, "CiC secured. Medical teams to CiC on the double!"

Epi's expression is nice and stony - not common for the little woman. She's got her training and her orders, though. She slips in the blood - whose blood? Hard to tell. Her face has a few hits on it, her hands have some blood on them. But she moves to take up a position between the XO and the downed Centurions. "Sir," she says quietly to Praxis. "I need for you to stay behind me at all times until those things are gone." It's not a request. She's got her gun in her hand and she's clearly intending to use it if need be.

The Centurion finally dies…maybe symbolically as Cinder's weapon clicks empty. Not like she was doing much good. Most of her shots went wide, and though she doesn't want to blame it on the shoulder wound for fear of being ripped on after, she thinks it might've contributed. Her very first bullet wound! Shame there's nobody to write home about it. She advances with Damon though, not bothering to reload her rifle. Instead, she pulls her sidearm, puts the end of the barrel right on that frakkin' red eye, and pulls the trigger. Then again. And again. And again. Until that gun clicks empty to. "AAAAAAAA FRAKKER!" she screams out…maybe for no reason.

[Into the Wireless] Legacy says, "Dash, consider it an order. You and Case get checked out. I'll…I'll be down once…"

Damon glances down to the body of the dead Centurion. As Cinder unloads on the thing, he cracks a grin and turns to look at her. Bringing an arm up to rest it on her shoulder, the side of his lips open to reveal his pearly white teeth. "…and you thought you wouldn't adapt, Brand." Damon says quetly to her, bumping her with his elbow as he steps forward. "Get the legs?"

Praxis looks down to Epi for a moment or two after she mentions something to him, and as a result he lets out an exasperated sigh. Glancing about the broken and burned CIC and observing no danger for the current point in time, he simply continues to do CIC stuff, like he was born to do. "Kavi, page stretchers and damage control teams up here - they have a considerable amount of work to do before we are back up to full combat efficiency." Saying that, eyes traverse the room, passing over Legacy, the fallen Tiera, and Epi.

With an arrival of some kind of medic, Ashe gets pulled off to sickbay since apparently he has some kind of pulse. Otherwise how else would those little spurts of blood be happening?

Thea finishes with the com and looks over to Praxis, just watching him for a moment. "Sir, Fox 5 is back. My birds are landing. Permission to head to the hangar bay and sickbay?" It's a quiet question - quiet enough.

[Intercom] Neha says, "Attention: Damage Control and Medical, report to CIC. Bring stretchers. I say again: Damage Control and Medical, report to CIC. Bring stretchers."

Epi remains where she is, out of Praxis' way so he can work, but definitely between him and danger. She's got that secret service look in her eyes, flat and watchful.

"Ugh…I don't even want to look at these frakkin' things, let alone have to touch them," Cinder huffs out. Holstering her empty sidearm, groaning loudly, Cinder pulls her helmet off and lets it tumble to the deck. Blonde hair is plastered to her forehead and neck, the bun under her helmet having managed to come undone a bit in the action. Crimson streaks down the front of her vest from her left shouder and breast area, her arm getting sore and hanging a little limp. Her back is getting stiff too, with some shrapnel from hiding behind the console a little too long as bullets plowed into the deteriorating metal logged in there as well. Gritting her teeth as she bends, she puts her hands around the spindly ankles of the thing and prepares to do…whatever with it.

The sound of feet making their way down the corridor at a rapid pace sounds as the damage control team makes with their approach with Crewman Apprentice Manfrin leading the pack. They come skiddng to a halt outside the hatch and then hurry in, the tooll-kit bearing mechanics and engineers preparing to do their jobs. "Damage control reporting as ordered, sir," Callie calls out once she gives the room a quick look around.

Having managed to pop the self-made stitches in the side of his head, Damon's got a small bit of blood trickling down his face as well. Shouldering his rifle, he looks to Cinder and asseses her status. Nudging his head towards the wall, he turns back towards the Cylon. "You okay there, girl?" Damon asks, opting to do it himself. "You did good. Just watch my back in case one of these wakes up. I'll do the work."

The countdown timer ticks to two minutes. Ticks to one minute. Thirty seconds pass in utter silence around the ship, save for the creak and groan of her hull trying to settle out the kinks of multiple barrages of enemy fire over the past thirty-six hours. A group of people in the chapel are praying fervently, and even the hangar deck's ground to a virtual standstill as crew wait, some collapsed through sheer exhaustion, to see what will happen.

Fourty-two minutes, and nothing happens. Fourty-three, fourty-four.

By the fifty-seven minute mark, it seems to become apparent that the nightmare is, in fact, over.

When Legacy makes her iniqury, he barely hears it over the deafness incurred from discharging the rifle repeatedly. However, he eventually goes over the phrase in his head and comprehends it, a curt nod. "Granted. I will keep your apprised of the situation - Excellent work, Captain Legacy," he praises, before stepping out into the center of the room, of what's left of his once pristine and beautiful bridge. Shattered glass, sparking electronics, dimming lights…even blood on the floor and coffee soaking the papers. "Excellent work, all of you." He folds his hands carefully behind his back and awaits assistance, intaking the smokey air deeply and exhaling it out just as slowly. Moving back to the table and picking up the shipwide after the time expires, it's then the XO begins to speak to the whole vessel.

[Intercom] Praxis says, "All hands, this is the XO. At no point in time has this conflict ever been easy. The fight against the enemy Cylon forces has been particularly difficult over the past several days; the repeated attempted siege of the Kharon has resulted in us losing patience, losing control, and most importantly, the loss of many of our friends and comrades. However, I assure you, that hell is now over. Thanks to the undying effort of our personnel, we have perservered. Take this time you have now purchased for yourself to rest and recuperate as we work to rebuild and replenish - each and every one of you has earned it. The ties that bind us together has, and will, carry us through to the end. Let us remember those who have fought and fallen so that we may persist. So say we all."

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