Periander IV Facility Recon
Periander IV Facility Recon
Summary: A group of raptors, marines, medical, and engineering recon the research facility on Periander IV. They have company.
Date: PHD063
Related Logs: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank)

The briefing was, appropriately enough, fairly brief regarding Periander IV. Terrestrial planet, cold as far as the colonies go, but well within the range of 'habitable'. Atmosphere, nitrous oxygen, its surface is covered in rocky, and at times mountainous terrain, all covered in a generous layer of snow. The pilots have been warned of a little chop going in, and steered around the planet's dark side to avoid the roving meteorite storm that caught the previous evening's CAP unawares.

As the trio of raptors move out, Kharon begins to slowly wheel away behind them— and the blue planet comes gradually into view. Two of the raptors have been sent in empty, the better to loot and pillage anything (or anyone, gods forbid) that might be found down there. The third carries Kharon's contingent of five marines. Most of them are talking quietly amongst themselves as the birds roll out; brass was oddly tight-lipped about what they should expect to find down there, beyond the fact that it's a Colonial facility, and it's bombed-out. So speculation runs rampant, as it often will.

As the sole representative of engineering - this already might be termed 'ominous' - Roubani has been quiet since liftoff. Suited up for cold-weather planetside roving, his rather gimpy right arm is in its beige brace, wrist forced straight and elbow given a limited range of motion. The two deadened last fingers are banded together, protected. At his feet he has a large kit setup, one case to be carried and one to be slung around his shoulder when he finally gets up, equipped with every portable tool they could jam into the things. He watches the viewport in silence.

Epiphany is seated on the raptor, strapped in, as is appropriate, legs swinging like a little girl's. "Are we there yet," she asks Dutch, a vaguely plaintive note in her voice. She's got her kit and she's got her Kit. Her SPECIAL kit. The poor woman is practically buzzing with somewhat restrained energy. Until now, she's been the perfect, stoic Marine. But even Marines have their limits.

Eyes closed as his head rests back against the harnass, Ashe cannot help but peek an eyelid up at the obnoxious question before letting it fall closed again. "We'll get there when we get there. If I have to turn this Raptor around…" He mutters under his breath while adjusting his rifle a bit to make sure it's snugly in his arms.

For reasons known only to his superior officers, Timon's been placed on ferry duty tonight, and it is with relatively few bumps that he guides his Raptor out of the hangar and into shadow — wouldn't do to unnecessarily alarm his living luggage. "Kharon Actual, Ivory, we have crossed the horizon into night," he says into his com — and then, to his passengers: "Gentlemen and ladies, this is your captain speaking," the lieutenant calls from the pilot's seat of Foxbat-4, his pale skin looking even paler when seen through the transparent helmet locked over his head. "Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times, as we are, I'm told, moving rather quickly. Keep your seatbelts fastened at all times, as we may encounter some turbulence, get hit by a meteorite, or both. And in the unlikely event of a water landing, exactly nothing in this cabin can be used as a floatation device."

Dutch is currently with the fireteam selected for this little adventure. Grumbling as he is packed in snuggly, one hand simply moves, fussing with the chinstrap to his helmet. Eyes closing for a second. Deep frakking breath taken and then he's looking back with a scowl towards Epi "Crimeinitaly.." or some other miner esque word is muttered. One more check of his geat. Rifle up, safety on. Medikit for when the shit gets thick. Yeah the Corpsman is all set. "I don't know why I have to have a frakking symbol on my godsdamned helmet. Its like hey, Frakkin Cylon-shoot here. Not like they think, or he is medical and thus its un frakking sporting.." Sometime remind him to petition for cigars or something in the raptor so you all can suffer more

"Nope.." a glance back over towards Ashe "You got any dip LC?" he needs something to chew.

Pike is going through the contents of her medkit, just to double check that she brought everything she needed. An assuring glance is given to the two medics strapped in next to her in Timon's Raptor, but then her attention turns to the canopy and the view outside.

Roubani glances at the back of Timon's head and then back at the viewport. The solemn ex-pilot's a little too experienced to be shaken by jokes, but nor does he smile. His mouth does briefly crinkle, but it's to attempt to scratch a cheek itch while wearing a helmet.

Kassia dips her bird to the side a little as she survys the horizen below her, it feels good to be in the air and doing something other then flying from point A to Point be and back again. She glances behind her at her nameless ECM who gives her a nod for the all clear. "You guys ok back there?" She calls, addressing the marines.
Dutch has reconnected.

Thorn's gaze is locked on DRADIS, exactly as it has been since liftoff. He seems to have taken his self-critiques from the last post-CAP debriefing to heart; his eyes don't waver, even though Kharon and the other two Raptors are the only thing on his scopes. He certainly doesn't envy poor Kassia in the lead Raptor, whose bird is stuffed to the gills with Marines and other such undesireables. Komnenos only shakes his head with a snort at Ivory's unusual jocularity up front. "Scopes are clear, Ivory, but that's t' be expected," he reports softly. He's been on several CAPs over the planet already, and the most exciting things about local space are the periodic meteorite showers in the planet's orbit. No Cylons here, it seems, at least for the time being.

Okay, so the ride's a little more bumpy for some, than others. As the raptors sink into the planet's upper thermosphere and mesosphere, they're treated to a bit of a light show: the dumpy little planet has a rather active electrical field, and there's really no way around the storm that's blanketing dense clouds. Timon and his precious cargo of medical and engineering staff manage to ride out the worst of it, but the marines in Kassia's raptor are probably slammed into their seats as the raptor pitches and rolls through the electrical currents. Tongues of lightning lash out across the sky, lighting up the striated clouds and freezing sleet as they drop into the lower troposphere.

Roubani tips up his chin as the raptors begin their pass into the planet's upper breaths. Electrical storm, to a physicist? It's a fascinating sight. A lightning strike lights up the viewport and briefly turns his dark eyes almost hazel as he watches, no doubt taking countless mental notes.

Epi sticks her tongue out at Ashe, head turned away from the OTHER Marines. And just as she's about to make a smartass comment, the shaking starts. "Zeus' bloody frakking swan balls," she comments, gripping the straps. "Did out driver find the only frakking potholes in space? It takes a -special- kind of pilot to do that."

Dutch closes his eyes as teeth are gritted. "Oh What th' FRAK." ok so the Sergeant obviously hates these frakking things- frakking hates them. Putting an already claustrophobic man into a small space-not good, now have said death coffin slamming and rolling about through the an electrical storm, and he looks as if to be about to freak out or kill someone. Not good.

Kassia takes a more firm grip of her controls and winces softly. "Sorry about the bumpy ride folks, only got my wings a few weeks ago." She half jokes, well it wasn't weeks ago maybe months but she's not the seasoned pilot Ivory is. She grimces at the, readouts and tries to get the Raptor more stable, even if she's having a frakking hard time of it, damned storms.

Even during his speech, Ivory's attention doesn't leave his instruments, and now as he drops into the planet's turbulent atmosphere he tightens his grip on the stick. Practiced hands fire up the Raptor's RCS — that is, the thrusters that make ships go in directions other than straight — as he attempts to flow with the storm, doing his best to maintain some semblance of balance as his bird is buffeted by wind and sleet. "Turn on the fasten-seatbelt sign, Thorn, would you?" he even manages to quip. Then, quieter: "And when you're done with that, make sure nothing critical's getting fried by this storm. Don't want wireless to cut out, or worse."

Ashe shudders and jostles and holds on as best he can. "Fraks sake. A few weeks ago? They gave us a cherry?" He grumbles and does his best to not fall apart. "And I thought Marek's flying was atrocious."

Pike grips her seat straps tightly as her medkit gets jostled free from one of the two hands holding it. "Well, this certainly won't be a boring trip," the CMO muses. A smile's given to the two NCO medics.

As the Raptors are buffeted by the storm, Komnenos switches through his DRADIS overlays. He raises an eyebrow as he studies the atmospheric readings in particular; after a few quick calculations in his head to confirm his sudden hunch, he starts pushing buttons on his console rapid-fire. He smiles in satisfaction as the results bear out his hypothesis. "Ivory, I think I've found you a better path through this bloody storm," he says. "Putting it up t' your console now," and he does just that, shunting the results of his tinkering to his pilot.

"Gods if we die before we land, please let me kick the pilots ass for sending us across the styx." comes the grumbled prayer before the Corpsman is jostled, and holds onto his rifle, and seat harness a little tighter. Already Dutch is starting to breath quicker, as if that will keep him from freaking out "One…two…Three.." he's offering to himself, counting-trying to count "five-six..Frak.."

Roubani is still watching the storms out the window rather than the heroic piloting team or the medical bunch. The jostles make his back stiffen a bit, but he stays quiet, following the trails of lightning strikes around them.

Epi leans over toward Dutch slightly, apparently seeing him struggling a bit. "Hey Sir," she murmurs, voice low. "Sarge. I want my bra back. If I don't get it back, things will start disappearing from your bunk every day until it's returned to me. I know you like to wear my frillies, but I don't think it's gonna fit." Yeah, she may not make it to the ground. Dutch may kill her first.

"Uhm, that's actually me." Ashe states over the top of Epi, gritting his teeth. "I been wearing your stuff then hidin' it in Sarge's closet to throw you off. He caught me last week though… didn't ask me to stop wearin' it. Just asked to watch."

Kassia is too busy trying to get thr Raptor under control to listen to the remarks from the peanut gallery, finally she gets it a little more stable and a sighs of relief ecapes her lips. "See and people go and pay good money for this sort of entetainment." She glances back again rolling her eyes at Dutch. "Hey Toots." She says to Ashe. "I think your man here, need a sickie bag." and with that she's back to flying.

"I see it." Timon grunts as he angles the Raptor to port, throttling up to maintain speed during his turn. "Around and about the cloud layer, eh? I like the way you think." Angry black thunderheads whip by his viewscreen as sleet crashes against his ship; the peal of thunder causes the hair on the back of his neck to rise, experienced as he is. "And remind me to curse the shrine of whatever god invented this damnable 'wintry mix,' or whatever the meteorologists call it these days. Status on those readings, Thorn? Though it looks like the worst is over."

As the raptors finally clear the stormy soup of Periander IV's dense atmosphere, the planet's surface comes into sharper focus. It's like a winter wonderland down there: white, white, and more white. What might appear to be sand dunes swept up into magnificent peaks, are in fact snow— it's cold enough that it doesn't melt, and it's like someone took a big brom and tried to make mountains out of it. Ravines and ice floes twist and turn their way through valleys created by the rock and snow formations, and barely visible in the distance — perhaps twenty or so clicks away still — is the scorch mark and toppled ruins of what was, until fairly recently, some kind of industrial complex.
Dutch has partially disconnected.

Pike peers past Timon's helmeted head, looking out at their destination on the surface, not to mention all the arctic landscape surrounding it. "See, this is why I stressed the thermals," she says to her subordinates. To Timon, "E.T.A. on touchdown, Lieutenant?"

"I need to choke a bit-" lost in a jar before Dutch is looking back to Epi words, snapping him out of his countdown for a moment. And he strains against straps, there's a reach is if he is going to indeed do what he said he was going to do, but instead hand moves to simply push Epi back a little "If the flight don't kill us the tinmen will..We'll discuss frillies when we get home..Not before or after." A grumble, and he's chewing hard on the inside of his cheek "LC, her shit ain't flattering on you."

Roubani draws a quiet breath through his nose as the landscape unfurls below them. His hand checks his outer belt for some piece of scanning equipment that he'd remembered to clip there for easy use and, finding it in place, he glances at Timon when pike asks her question.

<OOC> Nike says, " But more snowy. :D"

Epi's voice is very prim and proper - for a Marine. "Sarge, you were supposed to take care of choking BEFORE the mission. That's the first thing they teach you boys in boot. How COULD you?" Yes, like he was a puppy who just piddled in Kassia's Raptor. "Fine. Play with the bras, but leave the panties alone. You've both got big asses and I'm not wearing droopy drawers. Humph." She settles back in her seat again, legs swinging hard. "Swift, I hope YOU choked before coming out here. We don't need two of you hot on the trigger and distracted by a squaking chicken."

Komnenos is rather proud of himself, though also modest enough not to make it seem too obvious. He does a quick check of his systems, mindful of what Ivory's really asking despite the vague question? "Everything looks fine back here," he replies. "Doesn't look t' have frakked things up too badly," he adds. A couple blips of static pop across DRADIS, but quickly subside as the bird clears the stormy mess that is the atmosphere. "I'd say you're right; the worst is behind us."

"What do you think I used your drawers for?" Ashe retorts towards Epi, letting his eyes rest half closed again trying to focus. "From all of us riders in the back, we'd appreciate if you leave the jokes to the experts and focus more on NOT CRASHING. Thanks."

Kassia grumbles. "I'd like you to come fly thing thing through a frakking storm sunshine." Kassia growls back to the man behind her. "I got it sorted."

Dutch eyes Epi "I like helpers." and there's a grunt before he's leaning back down into his chair to rest as they make way or so he's hoping no telling what exactly is going on. Deep breath and he's checking his gun one last time. "Remember to check your toys, kids. Don't need anything not going off.." A look over to Epi, and a quick grin before its gone. Snort before he's eyeing Ashe. "Thank you're going places."

Timon can't resist a low whistle as his Raptor breaks out of the storm, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly to filter out as much as possible the blinding light that fills his cockpit. "Looks fine," the lieutenant mutters darkly. "Best we could have hoped for, at any rate. Bringing us about now — all passengers, strap in unless you really love thrill rides. That means you, Doctor." The medical officer's question isn't answered, not yet — landing, after all, is the hardest part, and it's with bated breath that Timon fires his Raptor's ventral thrusters, gasping as he's slammed into his seat restraints. Foxbat-4 enters an agonizingly slow glide, helped along by her straining engines and her pilot's gentle touch. Then, and only then: "Twenty seconds until we touch down. Sorry for being snappish. Crashing here would be oh so delightful, don't you think."

Komnenos' head jerks backwards as the Raptor heaves in its descent, but he compensates easily; he's been through worse weather than this, no doubt. He lets Timon keep doing the talking, though, keeping his own mouth shut and his eyes locked where they're supposed to be as the Raptor sinks ever down.

Pike hooks her thumbs underneath the straps that were secured very snugly upon launch from Kharon, and smiles as she says to Timon, "No apology needed, Lieutenant. One less trauma to treat's fine by me."

Roubani remains quiet as the Raptor continues its descent, a normal state of being for him. His thoughts are kept to himself.

Options for landing are fairly decent: the ground is mostly level around the bombed-out structures, though that doesn't speak for how solid it may be. Tall, spindly trees, coniferous for the most part, grow in tangled copses and close together; boughs whip against the raptors' flanks as they set down, spraying needles and snow as the thrusters fire.

From here, the best way into the facility is probably through the front door. Or what's left of it, anyway. The whole complex is 'secured' by a gated enclosure— now a veritable hulk of twisted, peeling, severely charred steel.

"Graceful" isn't a word commonly used to describe a Raptor in atmospheric flight, and indeed Foxbat-4 wobbles more than a few times as she makes her way toward the designated target. She's in formation, though, if that's worth anything to anyone, and it's with some amount of pride that her pilot takes her in. Gravity pulls, thrusters push, then push harder, jets of flame burning veritable holes in the icy ground beneath her. And then, with a decidedly ordinary plop, she sets down at last, white drifts of snow flying every which way as several tons of metal meet the yielding surface of Periander IV. "That, as they say, is that. Thank you for flying Ghostrider Air. We realize you have many different carriers from which to choose, and we thank you for selecting us to ferry you to whatever godsawful place you've been told to go. Thorn, if you would kindly open the hatch?" More seriously: "And good luck to you all. We'll be warmed up and ready to go when you are."

Kassia is alot better at landing the flying it would seem, she makes a gentle decent and is slowly manuvering her thrust to reverse to brake her forwards movement. A few moments later and first one then the other handing struts hit the icey floor with a gentle bump that usual can't be avoid. "Everybody out, please take all trash and personal belongs with you, and I do hope you had a pleasent flight." She flips a switch and speaks into her mic. "Flight leader we are down, and on the ground preping for energency take off should the need araise."

Roubani swallows lightly, clearing his throat as he unfastens his safety belt and leans down to pick up Heavy Kit #2. Kit #1 is in safely in hand. He unhooks that small scanned from his belt, glancing at the screen - one can only hope that's facility GPS or something - and flicks a switch on the side to activate some active scan or other. Then it goes back onto the black belt and he looks at Pike, waiting for her lead.

After a last quick check of the DRADIS readings — one can never be too careful, after all — Thorn stands up and goes to the hatch, slapping the controls with a gloved hand. The hatch slides open with a metallic whine, allowing Roubani and Pike to disembark at their leisure. "Good luck t' you," he says for the benefit of the doctor and the ensign. "Bring us back some souvenirs, eh?" To Roubani: "And try not t' come back with any more busted limbs, Roubani, what?" He smiles at the Viper pilot turned engineer.

Once they're down, Epi's out of her harness in a flash, going through her kit to make sure everything is as it should be. She straightens, all trace of joking and smiles gone from her face. "Ready, Sergeant Elder," she says quietly, patting her weapon.

"Alright Kids.." comes Dutch's call once the craft does come to a halt. Belts flicked up and he's making to rise, in the albeit cramped compartment that is the rafter's fat aft. "Lock and load, remember we do not know what is in this place, besides probably ghosts- so be ready to fire should the need arise." Good thing about being a Sergeant, you go out first, and get on last. Laslty, Dutch adds as he nears the hatch, waiting for the green to go "Be careful Marines."

Pike unstraps and motions for her two medics to do the same. A look to Roubani is followed by a nod as she makes her way over to the hatch and keys the release switch. "I don't have to remind all of you that being careful here is an understatement. Keep your eyes and ears open." The CMO makes her way out, hopefully with the rest of her chunk of the landing team following.

Roubani gives Thorn a thin smile that curls his lip. "Will do my best, sir." He also nods to Timon with a small measure of respect before turning to follow Pike and the Magical Medical Team. His boots crunch in the snow as they climb down, and he pauses to sling the heavy strap of his kit around his shoulder and crosswise over his chest. On his belt that little scanner blinks an occasional soft blue light, serenely.

Ashe is amongst the last to unfasten and get himself up and moving. Oddly the man who never seems to stop talking, is silent as he looks towards the others.

Yeah, there's a reason why everyone coming down here was packed into a full environmental suit, including wooly tube socks. It's cold. Boots crunch as they meet snow, and the air's dusted with precipitation that crystallises into frost as it falls. The facility itself looms perhaps two hundred feet away, a network of interconnected buildings that are — for the most part — ruins. There's a central hub that seems to have survived at least partially intact. Those that were given floor plans of the place have it marked 'HAL'.

As the Raptor's cargo disembarks, the worst part in Komnenos' mind begins — the waiting. He's not too broken up about remaining with the ship, though; Thorn is no coward, but he fully realizes that his talents don't usually extend themselves to away missions. He busies himself with DRADIS readings as the landing party begins to go about their business, not paying attention to what's going on on the ground outside his bird.

"Good work up there, Thorn." Ivory's busy turning off non-critical systems to save power, flicking off row after row of switches even as his other eye follows the ground team and its heavily-armed guards — but right as he's about to turn his attention back to pilot-y business, he sees them: footprints, that is, almost covered entirely by the snow, spreading out in all directions from the LZ. With a start, he unbuckles his seat restraints and flicks frantically at his wireless, searching for a secure channel. "Away team, Ivory," he calls when he finds the right frequency. "Be aware, looks like someone's gotten here before us, if those tracks out there are any indication."

Roubani's head raises slightly as Timon's voice comes over the com. The news makes little hairs stand up at the back of his helmeted neck. His eyes turn down, looking around the tracks that the party themselves have made, and then back at the front door. Then towards Pike.

The sky has begun to darken, though little of the celestial landscape is visible through the cloud cover. Bright, distant stars. A gas giant or two: one reddish, the other yellow, a waning crescent in the sky.

Epi settles in behind Dutch, moving into formation with the ease of long practice. She glances to Ashe and the other two Marines briefly at Ivory's call, but says nothing.

Shortly after Ivory's call, Ashe surveys the terrain and picks up the location of the tracks, having been noticing something off himself. Lifting a hand, he points and speaks levelly. "Got them, there." The words are spoken mostly towards the other Marines.

Komnenos' head jerks again, this time in surprise at the pilot's sudden announcement. The possibility of mystery guests makes him nervous despite himself; Thorn's never really cared for either mysteries or surprises. Tracks? Can't be anything good, since as far as the ECO knows, they're the first Colonial presence on the planet since whatever it is frakked the outpost up to begin with. Visions of his parked Raptor in some bastard toaster's sights dance through his head. There's still nothing out of the ordinary or unexpected on DRADIS, but that doesn't stop his overly fertile imagination from suddenly going into overdrive. It prompts him to turn back to his DRADIS console and go back to work. He starts switching through the different sensor overlays once again, running a thermal scan, electromagnetic scan, and any other type of scan he can think of.

Dutch takes a few steps, his rifle leveled towards the snow as he keeps moving, that is till the frantic call comes over the wireless and he turns his head, looking down. One hand pressing to his ear-before he's turning his head to motion back towards Epi, and a private beside her " LC Get point." said as he is motioning towards the door, he'll follow in standard formation "Safeties off.." said to the other Marines, as the Sergeant keeps his eyes peeled. Well this is always good-

The Private hurries to do just that as Dutch moves, to the flank "eyes open.."

Pike looks to Roubani, a frown on her face. She says evenly to the medics and to Roubani, "Not to stress the obvious, but keep alert. And defer to the Marines if things get nasty. The minute this looks unsalvageable, I'm pulling the plug." She then motions her team to follow her and she falls in step with the fireteam.

"Yes, sir," Roubani's soft voice answers the CMO. He has a sidearm on his belt and the fasten over it is unsnapped, but he doesn't take the weapon in hand. Things would have to get quite a bit worse before one had to trust him to shoot anything with a handgun. Hefting the strap of his equipment bag on his shoulder, he falls into the moving formation, looking down just to quickly salvage through his kit for something.

The last two marines approach the group after a short delay, due to one of them having been green about the gills and needing to vomit repeatedly into the snow. Yay for bumpy rides. They move into formation with Dutch however, rifles at the ready.

"Way to read my mind, Anton," Timon mutters tautly as his ECO powers up the Raptor's active scanners. He goes through the rest of his post-flight ritual as if by rote: "RCS tanks, near full; fuel gauge, green; EW suite, operational; DRADIS, still nothing." Then, like the backseat driver he is, he gives his ECO an unsolicited suggestion: "Tighten your band — yeah, that's it. Looks better now." The pilot chuckles as he lets his Bear do his job, falling silent as he leans back in his chair. Then, before too much tension can build: "My bet? It's cats out there. Giant Cylon cats with lasers for eyes."

Yeah LC, take point. Oh wait, Ashe is the LC. Nodding towards Dutch, Ashe moves forward towards the door speaking as he approaches it. "Pull left, prep right for incursion." Apparently updating the situation. Checking his armaments quickly then going to his rifle for quick rundown he brings it up to his shoulder while approaching what is left of the door. "Clearing in three, two, one…" Quickly Ashe turns the corner and enters into the bombed out gateway with rifle up at the ready and attempting to be as sneaky as … well he's trying to be sneaky.

Epi pops the safety off her weapon and takes up a slight flank, slight rear position behind Dutch. Yes, put the smallest one at the back. She's comfortable doing this, alert and yes, tense.

Kassia sits in her raptor her eyes on the screen as she watches the progress of the marines. She idly places her engines on standby and goes over the preflight check list again, the chatter between Timon and Anton is heard and a slight grin for the pair appears on her lips. A glance back to her own Rio reveals that the guy is totally engrossed in his ownb checks and no one ofr conversation.

The corridor, once breached, is dark, dank, dusty and heaped with both strewn rubble and snow that's slid off what was once the roof. It seems the compound's generators are still active, as a few lights are working; the ruined hallway is cast in a sickly, uneasy glow from sputtering halogen bulbs swaying from frayed wires overhead. There's nobody about, so it would seem.

To the right, what looks like a strictly utilitarian lounge area and reception; the glass that used to surround the latter is smashed to bits, and shards of it cover the dusty floor.
Long distance to Nike: Roubani is a little disoriented. What area on the blueprints did we come into?

Pike pulls her own sidearm out, stifling a look of disgust… military or not, the C.M.O.'s never been that enamored of firearms. She still ratchets the slide back to chamber a round, and maintains a close distance between her and the fireteam. Upon entry, she looks at the ruined lounge, peering for anything of value though mindful they haven't gotten to the good stuff yet.

Komnenos' eyebrows raise as he studies his EM scan. Mostly ignoring his pilot's muttering from up front, he does however tighten his band as suggested. Like he didn't know to do that, anyway. He frowns thoughtfully as he studies the readings; he's getting something but nothing DRADIS can isolate. Timon's nothings are now completely ignored as he fiddles with his machinery, but the stubborn equipment refuses to be more cooperative. As fuzzy and indistinct as the readings are, they could be anything — but Komnenos isn't feeling like taking any chances. "Oi, Ivory," he says finally. "You may want t' look at this." Look at what exactly, he's not quite certain, but after what happened on CAP the other night, better safe than sorry.

A look is passed towards Ashe as the gun is readied and held as the Sergeant swings right. A nod is given over to the LC and Dutch is or it appears ready for the incursion to begin. Eyes peeled as he looks towards the door, rifle barrel down before he will raise up when he is ready. "Alright On three, And we go- You ready TL?" seems that the Corpsman is ready to go in and hold the door "This part is always the worst.." muttered softly. Hand up and he does the count-simple uno, dos, tres. Go.

"I'm seeing what you're seeing, Thorn, but just for you — " Timon leans toward his copilot — as much as he can lean, that is, in the Raptor's cramped compartment — his brown eyes focused on what his ECO's got up on his screen. "Upon closer inspection … well." Ivory shakes his head to clear his vision; unfortunately, him shaking his head does nothing for Foxbat-4's readings. "No solid confirmation either way regarding my cat hypothesis. How about this? Lock onto our team and use their thermal signature as a baseline against which to compare the rest of this junk you're giving me."

Value? In here? Not so much. There's a few dead bodies scattered about, though. One behind the counter, currently slumped forward over it and covered in shattered glass. Three others, in lab coats, strewn against the walls and floor. One of them has been crushed by a wall that gave out, the other is sporting more holes in him than a sieve. There's also a blown-out wall leading deeper into the compound, to the northwest.

Roubani unclips his little scanner from his belt as they move, consulting the blueprints of the facility's lower level. "Sir," he murmurs to Pike. "Do you have anything able to perform thermal scans?" He shuffles quietly in the back lines of the ongoing Marine scouting, taking stock of any wall panels in the room.

Epi takes her place behind Dutch, swinging her weapon this way and that as it's needed. The bodies are covered with her gun, strangely enough. Apparently she doesn't take any chances. Silent, she moves to one side until medical can check them out.

Ashe's eyes fall on the lab coat wearing individual who has been shot up. "Sarge, looks like we may have confirmation of ground assault with whatever took out most of the facility." The Marine moves towards some of the corpses, crouching down to inspect quickly and none to gently before getting up. "Suggest we operate with assumption of remnants, sir."

Pike nods to Roubani and fishes a thermal scanner out of her kit. "Never leave the ship without it," she replies, before flicking the device on and doing a sweep.

"Right," Thorn replies tersely, going to do just that. He switches back over to his thermal overlay, isolating the Kharon's landing party. Using each landing party's thermal signature as a control group of sorts, he runs another thermal sweep of the area, seeing if he can pick up anything that falls within his control group's hastily established parameters.

Medical doing their thing, Marines doing theirs, Roubani checks over his screen again. He exhales silently inside the helmet, now just looking around the room.

Dutch says nothing as a motion is made for the team to move cautiously closer towards the hole blown in the wall, already taking a covering position as he turns his head slightly back towards Ashe "I can see it LC, right now, lets get that hole covered, incase something is waiting for assholes to just come a gaping in.." A motion made to a private-check your angles kids. "That is what we're doing. If it moves and does not identify-shoot it." But that's Dutch being careful.

This room seems to have taken the brunt of the assault. There isn't much to see, because there isn't much left of it; the sky is visible in large sections, where the roof's completely collapsed. On the other side of the hole in the wall, it's pretty much the same story: an L-shaped corridor forms the main throughway of the compound, lined with doors and cluttered with carts whose contents have been smashed (or shot) to bits. There are more bodies strewn about on the floor here; most of them appear to have been gunned down as they were running away, by the bullet wounds in their backs. There is a door marked 'production room #4' and another marked 'production room #3'. The floor plan seems to have designated this area the 'HAL GMP hallway'.

Roubani's eyes are drawn to the doors marked 'production' for the split second that he forgets to be on alert. Then it's back down to where they're going, particularly as he nearly trips over a body. His face pale inside that helmet, he tugs his attention off the carnage and his eyes narrow at something half-buried in the rubble. "Sir." His voice comes tersely over the comm and he points towards the piece of casing. "Bomb fragments."

"Bombs from above," Epi says quietly to Dutch, keeping her voice low, soft. "Not sure I can identify anything more offhand at the moment."

Ashe continues to move slowly through areas, peeking corners and clearing as the group advances. Finally he remembers to ask a rather straight forward question. "What was this facility?"

Dutch remains posed by the Hole as he looks into the darkness of where it seems the Facility was hit the hardest. A deep breath, Heh, it seems patches of light coming in from the collapsed roof only helps or in some cases hinders the scene of where the beatdown occurred. There's a motion to hold up for a second. A glance back to Epi "Yeah…Anything other than rubble we should be worried about?" Hell he might as well ask, as he edges a little closer. To where the two production doors read. "Spread out.." Or basically find some form of cover incase those doors open with guests waiting behind them. "Frak if I know, Swift- Seems more or less like some sorta lab or shit.."

Pike looks at the fragments and frowns. In response to Epi, Pike simply answers, "Minimal intel, Corporal. Only that this was a classified military research facility. Any records on the place were probably bombed to shit along with everything else…"

Nope, no guests. Unless about nine or ten dead people count as guests. Not what most would consider a warm welcome. The air in here is dusty and stale, not to mention bitterly cold (what with portions of the walls and roof missing). Snow filters in, flecking visors and filling crevices, crunching here and there where boots pass. The door to 'production room #4' has been blown off its hinges, and sort of hangs there, creaking as an errant wind filters past. Beyond it can be glimpsed walls and racks of equipment.

If Roubani's demeanor could possibly have sobered any further, it has. Still trailing behind the Marines, he looks back towards the marked doors. Comm carrying his voice again. "Major," he nods towards production room 4. "Permission to enter? There may be salvageable equipment in there. Or at least enough to tell us what was going on here."

Scamper scamper scamper. Epi heads toward the fragments and bends near them, checking them out before carefully gathering and packaging. She's like a little dark squirrel, scooping up a winter's nuts and chasing after other shiny things.

Pike looks to Roubani, then to Dutch. "Sergeant, Ensign Roubani wants a look at that equipment. COuld you spare one of your men to accompany him?"

Meanwhile, back at the Raptor ranch: "Getting anything now?" Timon's expression is placid, even tranquil as he waits for his ECO to complete the scan; now and then, he'll lean forward against his interlocked hands to look intently into the windy and barren whiteness that makes up the majority of the planet's surface. "Let me know when you're done looking for stray therms, okay? I'm going to power up the engines and warm up the dorsal thrusters. Try to burn off some of the snow that's piled up on our bird while we sit here all obedient-like." Ivory chuckles under his breath. "You want me to shut up, don't you?" The pilot pauses. "Right. Shutting up."

All's quiet at the landing site. For now. Snow and more snow blanket the area, and it's coming down in droves now. Too bad raptors don't come with windshield wipers.

Dutch nods to Pike, before he' looking and motioning to the Ensign to come on up. "LC, get over here, so we can have someone on the door, before you both go treking in." Comes the soft bark of the Sergeant. Still not wanting to alert anything to them rummaging about-Who knows what other set of eyes are on this facility, or on them right now.

Ashe looks up as he's called, and pauses from his inspection before turning and gliding over towards where Dutch is at and taking up residence of guarding the door with a simple, "Sir."

Epi pauses to look at one of the casings. "Got a serial number, Sarge," she tells Dutch. "Looks familiar and I'm trying to place it." It gets tucked away, though, brow furrowed as she shuttles through the mental computer.

Roubani nods to Pike and Dutch. He pulls a small flashlight off his belt, one of thousand and a half useful things a snipe has to keep around. It's clicked on and he waits for Ashe to get into position before moving forward. Stepping over another body. Egad.

The hallway stretches out to the west, and then bends to the south. There's a female staff member laid out across one of the carts, one side of her face turned to chopped liver. Her colleague is slumped at her feet, in a pool of his own (frozen) blood.

Loose electrical wiring drapes like spaghetti from the ruined walls; obviously some of it is intact, since a few of the machines in production room #4 are still humming. There's a treadmill, of all things, its track all torn up and heaped with snow and rubble. There are panels of computers in there; one whole wall of them has been destroyed, the other wall has power, and cables dangling from access points, inert. There are also locked cabinets holding gods know what, from floor to ceiling of the final wall.

"Good work Corporal.." said back to Epi as Dutch keeps his eye peeled for movement. There's a glance back to Ashe, and he's nodding, giving them the go ahead for scavenging of production room 4. Rifle's raised as he keeps tabs on three and the corner. Crouching again the Marine Squad leader simply waits. Apparently the dead strewn about do not seem to bother Elder.

Roubani's eyes skim over the locked cabinets, brow raising. It's that 'gee, what could I use for a crowbar?' type of look. For the moment though, they're left alone and he picks his way over the rubble towards the computer systems. The beam of his flashlight passes over the panels, looking over what the screens may be showing.

Ashe is covering the Engineer, moving along as well but with a different sort of eye for the scene. After a moment he taps his com and speaks over it. "Sarge… the other rooms, did you notice a treadmill in any of them?" He asks it in a calm voice and then goes back to following Roubani.

Kassia leans back in her seat stretching her legs and looking rather bored, her ass is about to fall asleep. Bring her feet flat to the ground she gets up and slowly begins to walk around wiggling her legs every few steps as she does. "How you doing Jason?" She asks, the ECO coming to stand behind him. "I'm hearing Thorn and Ivory chat about stuff over there, wondering if they are just playing games or have something?"

"Colonial," she says suddenly. Epi turns her head slightly toward Dutch. "Vipers carry them as standard payload." Ahhh, the bulb just went off. The sound of shattering glass in her head is audible. Someone gave the hamster CPR. She spots Roubani and looks to the cabinet briefly. "Maybe after we come back this way," she tells the Engineer.

"Damn…" Roubani murmurs after a minute or two of looking over the computers. His voice too comes over the com, reporting back. "Whatever data was being processed here, it's in storage units somewhere. Tapes or the like." He flicks his flashlight towards the locked cabinets. "Probably in there."

Jason has been here the whole time, really. In the backseat of Kassia' Raptor, as he's wont to be. He keeps his eyes on the instruments, attention flicking from the DRADIS screen to the internal system readings. It's enough to keep a fellow occupied. He gives Kassia a thumbs-up without looking up. "Just fine, Flash. Just fine. Might be just passing the time, but we'll keep a look-out in case they're onto something."

Pike has her gun readied if at all needed, but otherwise she simply observes Roubani as he examines the Production Room. She then looks to Epi and frowns. "So… our people did this? Not the Cylons?"

There's a not-too-distant creak, then a low groan followed by a CRASH as a chunk of roof caves in. Just as Dutch rounds the corner to 'production room #3'. A good section of it clips him across the helmet, heavy enough to knock him down as snow kicks up with a noisy fwhooomp. Just give him a carrot nose and buttons for eyes.

Kassia nods her head her hand going to the mans shoulder. "Godo show, Lifer." She says and carries on with her wondering around, it's pretty cold as well even in the enviromental suits she's wearing.

Dutch raises a brow for a moment as he peers from down the hall. "That's a negative LC. Why is there a treadmill hiding in your room?" curious for a moment before he's motioning a private to hoof it up to his former position. It seems someone is going to check Production room three out, just to be careful-See if it gives any insight into what all this facility was used for. But the bit offered by Epi does get a curious glance. "Viper ordinance?" asked before he's nodding to the Private to open up three. Rifle barrel in… "Got another treadmill.." that much he gets out before he's down under snow and well caved in roof. Frakking snow and roof.

Ashe looks up at Roubani and after listening to the coms for a bit nods towards the Engineer, "The other rooms had a treadmill… That's just, odd. If you want in those, we can try to break our way in. I'd suggest we try a small charge to do it though, that way we don't risk breaking up those tapes if that's what is in there, right?"

Roubani glances over his shoulder towards the others as Epi makes that revelation. One might expect him to be shocked, but for whatever he just…isn't. His eyes turn back to the cabinets and he shines his flashlight around, squinting at the little electronic lock keypad on the wall. Great. He looks back at Ashe, brow raising at the 'treadmill' thing, and frowns slightly. "Treadmill…did they say if it's connected to any wires? Test equipment?" Then a look back to the cabinets. "The lock's electronic. Let me see if I can get in the front door, and if not then we'll try a charge."

As Dutch goes down, Epi goes into Marine mode. "You," she says to one of the other Marines. "Get him on that side. Viper ordinance doesn't mean frakking Colonials driving, people." Treadmills? Cabinets? Walls? All Epi's concerned about is digging the Sergeant out from under snow and roof. Bros before snows, apparently.

Pike blinks as the roof caves in and Dutch gets avalanched. "Frakking hell…" she mutters as she motions to her two medics. "Give them a hand." She then says to Dutch, hoping he can hear her, "Sergeant, are you all right? Are you injured at all?"

The treadmills all look to have hookups to the computers' recording banks. What's left of them, anyway.

Jason directs his attention to the latest DRADIS read-out, tweaking the instrument a little to try and get a better read. He frowns. "Flash. I think I've got something here as well. Picking up some blips…can't quite isolate how many, but they're about a click away. And they're not Colonial."

Kassia eyes widen slightly as she comes back over and leans over his shoulder. "Get onto the blower with Thorn and see if he's getting the same." She says. "Maybe you two can combine your effects and figure out what we're up against."

Despite himself, Thorn's attention is beginning to wander. He's listening with a growing sense of unease to the comm chatter; Colonial weapons signatures? Why would Colonial ships be involved in an attack on a Colonial outpost? Before he can continue to mull that unpleasant set of circumstances, a sudden chime from his console ropes him back in. He stares down at the DRADIS in dismay; there's a couple blinking dots that weren't there before. "Frak…" he growls. "Yeah, Lifer, I'm seeing them too. Inbound signatures, moving in hot. No ID, but I'm definitely not reading Colonial transponder signals."

While the Marines and medical try to dig Dutch out from under snow, Roubani's attention is on that keypad. He removes a small handheld device from his bag, juryrigging a little hotwire setup, and it doesn't take him long to rattle the thing's security loose. Ding.

A press up rifle first with a groan as Dutch turns his head, already he can hear someone scratching snow out digging for him, but the Sergeant is coming through half buried, and now, working to get himself out of the snow bank with some effort. But then he was a miner- so stuff like this he's used to, but the look on his face shows that he's not all seriousness there when he gets out. Coughing and sputtering with the help of the Private-whom his rifle is passed over to as soon as he can. Yeah sputtering breaths "Mithras' balls. Frakking cocksucking sonsofbitches.." More or less its too the snow, before the Sergeant is looking back to Pike as he is finally freed. "Yeah..yeah. Just-" quiet. "Nothing broken sir. Just my pride." A motion for his gun.

While Ashe wants to go help the others with the situation out front, he remains there with Roubani, watching the Engineer's six with a slightly passive look. "Any luck?" He inquires towards him.

Epi rocks back to her heels as Dutch comes out, then all the way to her feet as he seems to be alright. He's alive, so she picks up her gun and trains it on Roubani's cabinet. Just in case.

And that's all the confirmation Timon needs. "Kharon, this is Ivory," the lieutenant calls, and now there's true urgency in his voice. "We just picked up some incoming energy signatures. Not Colonial. Request permission for a flyby, over." Nimble fingers switch adroitly from the main wireless channel to intraship. "Thorn, how many and where?"

Jason gets on the com line, eyes still trained on his DRADIS screen. "Seems like there's only one thing non-Colonial means these days," he says over the line to Thorn. "Flash, can you seen anything in the air? In real-time, that is." He's reluctant to look away from the electronic side of things.

Roubani looks up as the cabinet doors slide open with a soft hiss. Inside are stacks of standard magnetic tapes, marked with things like 'HMR-0001' through 'HMR-0088' or so. About twenty or thirty are accounted for. None armed. "Well," he murmurs. "I think we've found some answers." Which they can't look at right now, so he sets his storage case down on the ground and pops it open. "Help me, LC? Get as many as you can."

"Permission granted," comes the confirmation from Kharon. Some Ensign probably taking an unofficial coffee break in CIC. "Please advise of any hostiles, flight lead, over."

Kassia nods her head slowly. "I can hear Ivory asking permission to do that now. Great thinking Lifer." She says smiling at the young man. "I was starting to feel a little idle." She then speaks up. "Should one of us stay on the ground IVory incase they marines need a quick bug out?"

Hesitating but a moment, Ashe moves over towards Roubani and attempts to carefully but quickly help him with removing the tapes. "Answers to what questions though?" He throws towards the Engineer's way as he works.

DRADIS still isn't cooperating. "Inconclusive, Ivory. Multiple contacts, no ID, not Colonial, coming in hot from due south. That's all I can tell right now." Thorn's signals aren't clearing up, and he's getting frustrated. "Frak this," he growls. "My bloody Mark I eyeball could tell me more than this piece of frakkin' garbage." Suddenly inspired, he leaps for the hatch. "I'm going t' have a look," he says, and jumps out before Timon can react.

"What they may have been producing in this room," Roubani replies quietly, working methodically on grabbing tapes now. "Which in turn may tell us why it was so important to destroy it."

"We're on pretty high ground up here. Just see what you can see…" Jason says. He fiddles with the DRADIS controls some more, eyes narrowing, trying to sharpen in on those blips. He gets on the com promptly, "Life here. I've got four contacts, confirmed Cylon signatures. Probably Centurions judging by their speed they're incoming on. They should be getting into visual range, or close to it."
Nike has reconnected.

A new noise from his console rings, however, just as he exits. Thorn, realizing where his duty lies, immediately reenters his craft; sounds like DRADIS finally came through. Oh, frak. "Cylon signatures!" he shrieks excitedly. "Four, repeat four, bandits inbound from due south!"

Kassia hand quickly goes towards her weapon because they are going to reach them before they get to the marines. "Get you weapon out Lifer." She says softly. "Ivory, you getting the Boogies as well?"

Wordlessly, Timon straps himself back in, warming up the Raptor's engines as he does. "I'm going to take us in through the cloud cover," he says to his ECO. "Keep us unseen, if that's at all possible, and get — wait — " For just as he's about to take off, his ECO's stands up and then sits right back down. "Kharon, Ivory, incoming are Cylon, say again, incoming are Cylon." And those words are neither tranquil nor serene. Then, to the Away Team: "Dr. Pike, this is Ivory, whatever you're doing in there, I'd suggest hurrying up. We have independent confirmation: four Cylons closing fast on our position."

Roubani meanwhile is still shoving tapes into that case. When it's got all it can hold, he cracks it shut and latches it, yanking it back up onto his shoulder. Ow, heavy. It's only then that he hears Timon and the pilots talking about…big things bearing down on them. He stiffens, sucking in a breath. "We haven't /finished/…" He whispers sharply. As though the cylons would somehow note this and go have a smoke break till the party was done with their salvage.

"Shit shit shit…" She calls to the team at large. "Toasters inbound, people, whatever we came to grab, grab it and get ready to bug out." She keys her transmitted. "Ivory, Pike… received and acknowledged, wrap-up's been ordered. Stand by for dustoff."

There's another loud CRASH as a section of roof does a tumble and slide, crushing a dead body that had been lying there. A few lights overhead flicker and cut out as electrical wiring is snapped.

Epi heads over to help Roubani and Ashe, trying to get as much out of the cabinets and into her pockets as possible while still maintaining a bit of discipline.

Jason nods wordlessly to Kassia, hand going to his sidearm. Not with a huge amount of confidence. He's an electrical pusher, not a groundpounder. But he's ready if it comes to that. He watches the blips more closer to their position.

Komnenos is now working furiously, pinging the incoming Cylons with every sensor his bird has. He's not too happy, though; bloody sensors should have picked up the incoming bandits long before now, in his estimation. Or perhaps, he should have — no. No sense in second guessing himself at this point. The only thing he can do now is keep an eye on them. "Enemy contacts now 500 meters out, still incoming," he announces.

"ETA, Thorn?" Timon's already spinning up his Raptor's engines, which until now have been idling to avoid interfering with his ECO's magic-making; the snow that's gathered atop the Raptor begins to melt in the face of overwhelming heat.

Roubani is watching most of his objectives turn to big red FAIL in front of his eyes. His teeth grit in frustration at the reports coming from the ECOs and pilots, and he waves Epi back towards the door. "Go, Corporal." Feels so cheated to have those empty raptors go home just like they started!

"You heard it Marines, lets cover their asses and hoof it back to the rides." Grumbles out Dutch. As he's making motions "Come on, lets go and cover and get out, now!" And so he's moving to get into position. 500 meters, They've got some time to pull out. So here's hoping they can do it. "Come on lets get moving now kids.."

Kassia slips back into her seat and drags on her harness, she leans forwards places the weapon on the console and revs the engines. "Ready to go as soon as we have everyone on." She says through her helmets Mic. "Good work there, Lifer we might just get out of here in one piece."

A few quick calculations, based on velocity and current location… "ETA, five minutes," he barks. "'Course, if they've got long range weapons, they'll be in a position t' wreak havoc a minute or so before that," he qualifies. He's not a Cylon expert, though, so he's not exactly sure what weapons load the bandits would be kitted with.

Well look at that. Epi manages to get a lock smashed off a locker just before she goes absolutely Gymnast Chan on it, knocking it open. "Do we have time to grab the contents," she calls to Dutch over her shoulder, heading into double time mode.

"One piece. So say we all," Jason responds to Kassia in a low voice. It's not quite a prayer. He's not the praying type, apparently. But it has that general 'please, please let that be the case' tone. He nods to the chatter he picks up over the com. "Thorn's on it. Five minutes. Hope the grounders are ready for a quick ride out."

Pike sticks her head in the doorway and calls to the others, "Don't worry about being pretty about it, people, grab what you can and head for the Raptors, we can sort it out on Kharon! Let's move!!" She then falls in line with the Marines as the landing team prepares to quit this place.

"You heard the doc, Grab what you can, Privates with me on cover, Epi, you and Swift get what you gods damned can, then beat an orderly back to the ride, Got it?" Dutch barks back as he's motioning for the other two Privates to move to take up the rear with him. Only right. "Hurry, I don't have a time estimate except for right frakking on us."

Moving, of course, is becoming a bit more of a chore as night truly settles in. Not only is it dark, with most of the lights being toast, but the path back out is rubble-filled and snow-covered. And worse? The wind is beginning to really pick up. And kick up; snow, mostly, and fine chalk-like dust from the blown-out building. Without a flashlight, it would be near impossible to navigate back out.

"Let's hope they haven't heard of mortars, then." Ivory's voice is grim; back online comes system after system as he speeds through his pre-flight checklist as he's done so many times in the past — but mostly for practice. This is the real thing. "Worst case, they arrive before our people come out, I'm going to take us over and see if I can't get their attention. Thorn, get that EW suite powered up for short-range UHF bursts — I want their optics as cluttered as we can get them."

Ashe continues to help get things loaded while the debate over staying or going takes place, he'll just follow the orders when they come.

Kassia fingers flip switches, and toggle nods as she speeds through the check list, this never seems to take so long except when your in a rush to do so. "I'm all ready Ivory when you are, and don't do anything rash we could get out of here yet."

Lords, how many tapes can you possibly record? Roubani's been in research before, so not like this should surprise him. Here we go again; he turns the flashlight in hand towards the new cabinet open, flickering it over the contents. Then it's grabby time. Grab grab, etc.

Komnenos nods. "Right." Thorn calls up his ECM display, powers everything up, and gets to work. Under his ministrations, Foxbat-4's ECM suite begins pounding the incoming Cylon contacts with pulses of electronic interference and a wave of every type of electronic jamming he can think of. At the very least, he's hoping, they'll be confused by the sudden EM onslaught, maybe even slow down enough to give their people time to get back to the ships.

"Yes SIR," Epi calls, as she goes to town on another locker. "Numbers HMr-0089 through HMR-0150 in this cabinet," she calls to Roubani. "I'll smash, you all grab." Yep, there she goes - though the second one jams.

Pike keys her wireless open. "Ivory, this is Pike, requesting ETA on hostiles." She then calls to the team, "Listen up, if you can't collect it in the next fifteen seconds, frakking leave it and let's go, else NONE of it OR us are getting back to Kharon!"

Roubani has grabbed about all he can. He shakes his head to Epi on the rest of the cabinets, especially after hearing Pike. "Corporal, /go/," he says, repeating what he called out before.

While the fireteam, marines and medical professionals are busy smashing and grabbing, things are beginning to heat up outside. Well, not literally; it's still cold as ass out there. But the centurions on the horizon are now visible to the group scrambling to get their rides up and running. Seven foot tin soldiers armed with built-in gunhands, they kick up snow as they move— and they're moving at quite a clip, with a distinctive whiiir clank, whiiir clank. Honing in on the colonial ships parked on the ground, they collectively begin firing in a burst of automatic rounds once they're within about ten or fifteen feet.

Despite his best efforts, the Cylons haven't slowed their advance. Thorn isn't sure precisely what he could have accomplished, but it was worth a try, and the Raptor's ECM suite is the bird's best defense. Speaking of which… Thorn checks his sidearm. Weapon is loaded and ready for action. That makes him feel marginally better. He hears Pike's squawk over the com, and cuts his pilot off, figuring he'd cut out the middle man. "Pike, this is Thorn. You've got less than five minutes t' enemy arrival. I strongly suggest grabbing whatever you've got and getting back t' the birds. Now."

Roubani keeps his flashlight tightly in gloved hand, backing out of the room. The beam flickers over the hallway walls as he gets back to the Marines and forms up, heading back the way they came. While lugging tapes. It's like coming back from the vacation from hell, with footage.

Jason looks to Kassia, nodding as she gets the Raptor prepped for takeoff. "I'm certainly ready to go." Nevertheless, he draws his pistol. The sound of murderous clanking in the distance makes him want to have the gun in hand. He tenses as they open fire. Well, they're here, then.

"Copy, Ivory," Pike responds, "we're inbound." She calls to the others, "The Cylons are on our birds, people! Time's up, last call, bar's closing!" To Dutch, "Sergeant, your men are on point. We're expediting to the Raptors now. Looks like we're walking into a firefight."

"Roger that sir., Alright boys and girls lets move out." holler dutch before he's making a motion to the Privates with him to hurry on towards the doorway they came in. Already the sound of combat boots can be heard, as the sounds of weapon fire comes out "Frak..They're out.." all he can even get out before he's whistling back to the other Marines. Time to move it now or so the universal signal seems to be, and so he and the others are going to go see what they can do. "Private take my flank, I'll be on point." Which means his gun'll be ready to fire if they need to. Here's hoping they can get everyone loaded.

Kassia can hear the shooting out side and instantly grabs for her weapon, as she hears the enermy begin to fire. "Frak me, I promised Castor I wouldn't get myself killed." She says in humorless tones. "Come on you Jarheads, get you asses back here."

Hearing the call back, Ashe looks between the Engineer and Epi and then moves hastily. "Sarge." He nods and resumes his position on point, long legs already carrying him with rifle up to get ready to front the group.

Roubani is following at top speed, flashlight beam bouncing on the walls as he does the closest approximation to running that he can. His sidearm's yanked out of its place.

Epi, as the call from Roubani, then Pike, then Dutch goes out, drops what she's doing and forms up on the Sergeant, heading out.

"How long has it been for you?" Timon's words are humorless and for his ECO alone, even as his eyes glance down at the pistol at his side. For a moment, they linger there — and then, perhaps realizing what the weapon is there for, he checks to see if a round is chambered. Fortunately, it is — he's meticulous enough to have done that, at least — and then he's looking back at his instruments, ready to go on a moment's notice. If even the pilot's got to get down and dirty, the away team's going to be in more trouble than even three Raptors can solve.

Komnenos can now begin to hear a foreboding mechanical clanking sound; the Centurions are getting closer. Komnenos draws his pistol, cursing the fact that explosive rounds aren't standard issue, and turns towards the open hatch. His eyes flick back and forth as he waits, heart pounding in his chest, pistol leveled in a ready position, for the brutal killing machines to emerge. "Too frakkin' long," he replies, his normally harsh tenor cracking with anticipation. He's not shaking, though, a testament to his bravery — or his skill in covering his fear. "I haven't actually fired one of these things in — " The sound of unfamiliar gunfire cracks in his ears, and Anton reflexively ducks, taking whatever cover the Raptor will provide as he looks for a target.

There's some shouting going up from the third raptor, as the ECO tries to scramble for the hatch and take a few potshots at the tincans. A strategy that doesn't entirely pay off for her; two of them swivel and open up on the hapless Ensign, riddling her flightsuit with bullet holes even as the pilot is trying to peg a bitch from his prone position on the floor of the craft. The ECO takes a swandive off the hatch and into the snow, and the centurions move in closer to try to mop up the pilot, while the fireteam hustles out of the complex.

Roubani drops his flashlight as they emerge into the freezing outdoors, the beam snuffled into the snowdrift that it plunks into. His pistol's raised, aimed for the centurions coming up on the Raptor crews.

Kassia glides from her seat and towards the open hatch of her Raptor, she should close it but then she's have to risk the lives of those outside while they wait for it to open again. With a deep breath she braces herself next to the opening and slowly turns so she can peer out, locating the nearest target she lets off a few rounds and ducks back in. "Not like these will do anything to their Armour." She mutters, eying her pistol.

"shit shit shit.." Dutch is muttering as they hump it back to bit of frozen out doors. Taking cover to the side of one of the Raptors , he gives a look around the corner As the bullets lay in. A look back and he's motioning back to the Privates "Covering fire, Lets get the medicos onto the birds, then we load in, Understood?" And with that There's a breath taken before he's rolling around the side to see if he can catch a shot. When one lines up, he's firing off in a burst.

Pike hauls ass as best she can with the rest of the ground team, sidearm at the ready and pointed downwards.

Epi nods to Dutch and slides to a knee to make herself as small a target as possible. She takes a bead on Centurion four and pulls the trigger.

Ashe continues to run full tilt with his legs until he sees metal. Jumping down into the snow and landing into a bit of rubble, his rifle comes up and the trigger flips to a heavy setting. "Supression fire." He states calmly towards the other Marines while depressing the trigger.

Roubani has his weapon trained on one of the machines bearing down on the raptor crew, the first one he can see well.

Roubani's heart is beating pretty quickly as those centurions open fire. His shot hits its mark but the damn thing doesn't even seem to flinch. He re-aims, trying to get a better eye on it by stepping to the side.

Komnenos watches with horror as several of the Centurions turn their attention to the emerging fireteam. The assorted Marines and others are moving slowly, weighted down with salvage. However, one of the toasters is coming towards him, its eye pulsing malevolently. He lunges out of his chair, coming to a standing position, his pistol snapping up and squeezing off a shot. The Cylon dodges — which gives Thorn enough time, in turn, to dodge the Cylon's return fire. Thorn snaps back around, aiming hastily and firing once again.

Epi seems, well, rather unaffected by the goings on. She's on one knee, firing at those who are attacking, her bead on the same one. There's simply the clicking of her gun, again and again, as she covers the Raptors.

Timon gets as low as he can behind his Raptor's armor, minimizing the amount of soft flesh he exposes to the incoming Cylons — and just in time, too, as Cylon bullets whiz by. As the team closes on his Raptor, he'll take a potshot with his pistol as best as he can, having scrambled out from his dreadfully-exposed driver's seat to find some semblance of cover behind the open hatch.

Kassia closes her eyes at the last minutes her hand trembling a little, she managers though to get a shot or two in the target and opens her eyes in time to get a shot to her head, lucky for her it's not too bad her helmet stopped most of it. With a blink and a shake of her head she ducks back into covers and tries to calm herself down that was close. With a few words to the gods she ducks around the hatch against and aims for the same centurion.

Pike sees Kassia take a hit and orders one of her medics, "You've got Nevice once we're on board!" She sees that her shot just peeyanged off her chosen bullethead's arm, and opts to change targets.

"Frak! Flash!" Jason turns with alarm as his pilot gets pinged. "You okay, girl? Stay low. I'll cover you." He aims his pistol at the Centurion that's molesting his driver.

Springing up after having let loose with his suppression fire, Ashe puts his legs to work again in advancing, calling out as he does. "Aim for the leg joints, shoulder joints, or their frakin' metal faces." As he moves forward, Ashe's rifle trigger gets depressed to drown his voice out as he opens up another round of suppression fire to try and keep the Cylons from being able to get into a good position.

The bullets rip from his gun and ping all over the centurion. A grimace already as he barely cocks his head to the side. "Someone get that frakking Ensign under cover.." Comes his yell, but it seems the Corpsman is looking to the Pilot "Mithras balls take cover your frakking pilots. This ain't no frakking video game! Sonuvabitch.." a motion is given back towards Ashe "Keep on the suppression fire!, Marines move up and give the pilots a frakking hand." And so he inches just a bit , firing while he goes.

The centurions don't fight like marines, really much at all. They open up their guns, and they pour lead into whatever's fool enough to get in front of them. Their cannon arms flare white, the sound almost deafening as they step close distance in the snow. With the raptor pilots ducking behind cover, it's the marines they turn their attentions on now.

Roubani cracks a centurion with a gutshot as it turns around to face the away team…that pings right off the thing's armour. Dammit. He keeps his aim where it is, pistol determined to regain its dignity.

Kassia looks across at Jason and waves her hand at the man. "I'm fine, I'm fine it just got the helmet I'll have a headache and a scratch, we need to get these toasters." She tells him going to aim at her target again and press her trigger, she's not doing too badly.

Jason actually manages to hit something. Score one for Navy Basic Training. The shot pings off the metal monster's armor, though, which isn't particularly effective. He watches Kassia with concern at all her 'fine' talk but there's not really opportunity to argue. He aims again.

Epi remains where she is, doing her damndest to provide the cover for the pilots to, you know, get on the birds so they can get out of there. "No," she comments, mostly to herself. "They couldn't have used a Viper while the toasters were still ten minutes out. We HAD to manually engage them. Godsdamned Cylon lovers. That's it. Make the Marines do it." Grumpy little thing, isn't she?

"Good shot, Thorn!" Timon says, though there's no exultation in his voice — the Cylons are going to town and he'll make sure to stay where he is, firing once more from behind the Raptor's hatch. This time, however, he leans slightly to the left as he shoots, giving himself a better angle on the Centurion that looks worst off.

Pike mutters to herself as her shot nails her chosen toaster right in the sweet spot and just pings off the armor. "Gun's frakking useless…" Still, no harm in continuing the assault, and another bead is drawn on that same chromejob.

Ashe continues his advance, letting his rifle pop off shots. The thud of something against his stomach has him taking a step back to stagger his advance as a grunt escapes his lips. But then the Marine is right back to work pulling the trigger and pushing the Cylon's down with directed suppression fire. "Took one!" He calls out rather calmly considering he can feel the warmth and oozing against the coldness of the air.

This time, Komnenos' shot strikes home. The Cylon's leg flares as his bullet at least partially penetrates its armor. Emboldened, Thorn stands, moving out into the open. He's exposing himself to return fire, but for now the Cylons don't seem to be paying attention to him, focusing only on pinning down the fire team. "Come on, you frakking metal bastards!" he screams in fury as he squeezes off another shot.

Dutch is hit by the evidence of sharp pain in his right arm, and the blood showing going down his sleeve "Oh you gotta be frakking kidding-me.." muttered out as he looks over to where Epi is. "Watch your eleven Corporal, they are laying in frakking thick." It seems the shot has not stopped the Sergeant yet as he is going to fire another burst, before making a run for Ashe. "Coming to your position Swift, give me some covering fire here in five!"

Snow is kicked up from missed shots as bullets plough the ground. The noise is still deafening, the 'whiiiir clank' of the centurions' stilted movement somewhat muted beneath it all. One of the tincans has its arm shot off by a marine with good aim; the thing is shorn away at high speed, and goes pinwheeling in a spray of sparks and wires before lodging itself in the snow. Not that this deters he and his toaster-like buddies. Undaunted, there's a brief pause to reload before they open up again.

Roubani is still precariously without cover, but he remains standing full up while the centurions' attention is on the marines next to him, not wasting any chances for a shot that'll hit something.

"Thorn!" Timon shouts, trying his best to make himself heard over the torrid rain of bullets that are even now descending upon the Colonial position. "You frakking idiot, stop being a hero and get down!" Yes, that's real fury in the lieutenant's expression as he squeezes off another shot while waiting for the ground team to get aboard. What's taking them so long?

Roubani again hits something, and again it plinks off. Still, one can hope that at least the useless bullets are frustrating the thing. Or something. Right. His pistol stays up, trained on the same centurion.

Kassia is starting to feel a little affected by the head wound she took, it's not sweat she can feel on her face as she first suspected but blood. No matter she takes aim and get again attack the enermy pilot or marine it's her job to destory the enermy and noone is getting their hands on her Raptor.

This time, Thorn's shot clangs ineffectively off the Cylon's armored midsection. The marine fire team is still pinned down behind cover, unable to move. A part of him hears his pilot's hysterical admonition, but the adrenaline is coursing through his veins now, and the Cylons have gotten his dander up. Thorn makes no move to go to cover, eyes blazing with fury as he stares at his target and fires again. In his own mind, the fire team is depending on him for their very lives.

Dutch waits until his rounds go off and then he is up and kicking it towards the Lance Corporal, rifle held in his left hand, as it seems the Corpsman puts all his effort into making it to Ashe's position. Lord will he look good to guns, given the fact-he's up and moving. Gods, don't fail him now.

And Epi remains where she is, shooting at toasters. Though she does manage to shout, "If you're not a godsdamned Marine get your ass on a bird. NOW."

Getting to the raptors, mind you, is no walk in the park. But it should technically be possible to make a mad dash for the ships, and hope to hell they don't get shot to pieces in the process. Meanwhile, one of the centurions loses a leg and sort of jerks to the side before keeling over in the snow. This, of course, doesn't stop it from shotting pesky marines. Which it continues to do with aplomb.

"Elder!" Ashe calls out, "Lay down some suppression for me for a moment, keep them pinned down." The Marine drops down and reaches to his flak pocket, pulling out a good ol' piece of metal and kisses it. "Don't fail me now Fork." He whispers then slips it back to his flak and forgoing the rifle, starts fiddling around with something at his waist.

Pike continues to inch her way towards the Raptors, now prone and crawling through the snow. At the sound of Epi's shout, the C.M.O. hauls ass towards the Raptor she flew in on. "You heard her, people, saddle up!" She squeezes off another shot at her current target as she makes for the hatch, staying low. "Open that frakker up!!"

Dashing for the Raptors is a risk Roubani's not looking all that happy about taking. Running straight through fire? Okay, if you say so. He starts moving sideways, not willing to turn his back on a huge metal hulk with a rifle, keeping his aim.

"Jane, Supression fire." Already it can be seen that the Corpsman is doing his duty as the medikit has been brought to bear as opposed to his rifle. Dear gods someone hear him and start shooting that suppression fire down. They need it. Lets see how Dutch was in Dodge-ball.

"Careful, Flash!" Jason cautions again as his pilot takes a rather more aggressive stance. This is shortly followed by he, himself, easing out a little from the cover of the Raptor to get in a better firing position. Hypocrit.

Kassia glances over at Jason as he calls her name again and does what he asks, she moves a little back from the hatch her hand going to her helmet. "How'd it looking, they anywhere close to getting on this bird." She asks, before letting off another few rounds.

Third time? Not so much a charm. Roubani can hit things, but this pistol's having a bad day in the stamina department. Snow kicks up around his feet as he moves, getting a round off into a centurion's chest. He's a bit slower than Pike, having trailed her to cover her retreat and done so while lugging quite a heavy bag of tapes on his shoulder. And shooting. They've been told to retreat but he's certainly not leaving the other group without what cover fire he can get down.

A ricochet of some kind and Ashe is grunting yet again. "The frak." He grumbles as his other side begins to hurt although not too substantially. "These things are really frakin' pissing me off Sarge." Finally freeing the object at his hip, Ashe pulls the frag free and grins over at Dutch, yelling. "FRAG OUT!" Then he pops up enough to crook back his arm and let it fly towards the Centurions before dropping back down.

And now Epi falls silent. She's cold. She's wet. These things are picking on her friends and just about damned pissing her off. She simply continues to fire, providing the necessary cover.

Another one of Komnenos' shots hits, this one directed at a different Cylon who's opening up on the doctor as she makes a mad dash for the Raptor. Komnenos moves just enough to allow her unobstructed access to the vehicle, but remains in the open as he continues his furious fire. "Come on, you lugs!" Komnenos screams at those still occupied with fighting the Centurions. "Get t' stepping, shall we! Will cover you!" True to his word, he keeps firing.

Pike hops up into the Raptor just as a toaster round blasts the snow where her feet once were. As she barrels in, another round is squeezed off towards the frakker who shot at her. Granted, she popped three rounds into it, but still.

Dutch is tagged, heard it whiz, and clank into his helmet and he's dropping down by Ashe for a moment. "Frak.." breath is heavy as blood is flowing down from the side of his head, where the round tugged his helmet. Coming down into his eye, but still he waits for Ashe, to do whatever it is he is doing, before his hand is moving and ripping the guy down to check the wounds in his gut-before he's going to work. "Hold still you sonuvabitch. Can't see through the blood." Either way, it seems he will be trying to patch up the other marine. "Mirthas cover my ass.."

Jason is standing by the quite open hatch to his Raptor, waiting for their passengers to load up. He, for one, has seen enough of the sights here. He does his best to lay down cover fire for the escapees. And cover fire is probably about the best the ECO can do. He's no sniper.

The two navy medics finally decide to make their run for it, while the centurions seem occupied with other targets. One of them manages to scramble up inside Timon's raptor, bullets pinging the hatch as she tumbles into the enclosed space. Medic #2 trips and faceplants into the snow, hands clapping over the back of his head while shots rain all around him.

Timon sees the medical personnel make a run for his Raptor, and with one fluid motion he safes and holsters his pistol — apparently the only part of gunmanship he can perform without failing miserably. The fact that he's actually hit something — twice, even — doesn't register; instead, he's back at his seat, ready to take off the moment all his passengers are on board.

Roubani nearly bumps into the downed navy medic, boots almost trampling the man. He reaches down and grabs the medic's arm, crouching to try and pull him back to his feet. "Come on, get /up/."

Kassia lets off one more round of fire before she's finally holsters her weapon and ducks back inside the Raptor, so she can get off this rock the second everyone is in. "As soon as their in Lifer, close that hatch and we're out of here."

"Get in, get in, get in!" Timon's voice isn't so much frantic as it is strained. His right hand's on the stick; his left's on the throttle — all he needs now are passengers.

Pike scrambles for her seat in the aft compartment and works to strap herself in, after securing her medical kit and holstering her weapon. "C'mon, c'mon…" she says, hoping that Roubani and her second medic get in quickly.

The little Marine doesn't look away from the Centurion. Apparently she's got a REAL hate on for #4. Shoot, Shoot, Shoot.

This time, one of Thorn's chest shot penetrates armor, and the Cylon rocks back on its metallic heels momentarily. He's about to fire again when he sees Roubani struggling to help the fallen medic get up out of the snow. He jumps down and dashes to assist. "Get t' the frakkin' bird, Roubani, you're no good with that arm!" he roars, roughly pushing the effectively one-armed ensign towards the hatch. Normally he wouldn't presume, but this isn't the time to worry about personal contact phobias. He holsters his weapon and picks up where Poet left off.

Jason waves the incoming Marines, engineers and medicals toward the Raptor. As if that might help them all get out of here faster. Another shot is aimed at the Centurions, after his last pings off body armor again.

The zip is heard before it catches him in the chest and knocks him back. Bleeding is stopped, but he can't do anymore at that. Laying still-Dutch just groans before catching the rifle at his side as he slowly pushes himself up. "Swift, You aren't…" and eyes close for a moment before he's just grimacing "gonna bleed out anytime soon. Focus fire if you can, and then I want you to beat a run to the raptor understood? I'll be right behind you.."

Ashe hears a thud and knows it isn't him this time. "Not this time Dutch." The young Marine states and fastening his rifle to his flak he gets over his mic. "Squealer. Dutch got popped hard, I'm going to try to blitz him to the Raptors. Lay down a fire on our six as I pull his ass." Groaning with the movement, Ashe rolls over to look right into Dutch's eyes. "This is going to hurt like hell Sarge. Just hold on to my shoulder.. I'm getting your ass out of here."

"Just get his other side, for gods' sake," Roubani hisses back at Thorn. Apparently being told he's 'no good' sparked just a little bit of irritation. Or more than a little bit. He does have a working arm and it's his dominant one, hand closed around the medic's upper arm. And pull like hell. "Get up, let's go," that to the cowering medic. "Now."

One of the centurions goes down in a hail of bullets, one pinging its head backward as metal is wrenched out of sockets and the red light sputters and dies. Its prone body riddled with gunfire, metal torn open as it goes down into the snow, and leaves its comrades to fight alone. One of them is still firing from the ground, owing to missing most of its lower body, while the other is still on two feet, both hand cannons blazing.

Kassia is now in her pilots chair once more the harness back on and her hands on the control, ready to take off. "Lifer, in your seat party is over, lets get out of here as soon as the others are on." She looks around watching for Epi, Ashe, Dutch and the rest to get their asses on her bird. "Come people!" She encourages.

Epi's hit, but aside from a grunt and a slight backward lean, she doesn't seem to be damaged. As she fires, she returns to Ashe over the com, "Get him aboard and tell me when you're clear and the rest of the crew is on." Crisp, sharp.

Dutch rounds off, the Sergeant just groans, as he is gathered up by the Lance Corporal. "Frakkin' Shit." gritted out, before he's spitting blood from his mouth. "Book it Ashe.." but that is all he gives out as he is moving to hurry for the Raptor..With help of course.

"I told you t' get t' the ship, Poet," Thorn growls as the threesome hobbles slowly towards the Raptor. If Roubani's dead set on staying out in the kill zone, though, he does his best to take as much of the medic's weight as possible, still conscious of the ensign's lamed arm.

Jason books it back into the Raptor and into the ECO's seat. "Ready when you are, Flash," he says. He casts a concened look over his shoulder at her. She did take a hit to the head. He smiles faintly as he sees her manning the controls, nodding and prepping to get the hades out of there.

Roubani is, unfortunately for Thorn, not about to leave a man behind. Once he's on his feet he's relatively quick at hustling ScaredMedic to the Raptor, less wanting to be in a kill zone than to be sure the medic isn't either. He doesn't say anything else, just hustling.

And another tincan bites the dust. The rattle of gunfire from the two remaining is still deafening, spent rounds littering the snow as they continue to bore down on the landing party. One of them swings around and focuses its attentions on the downed medic, and the engineer and pilot trying to haul him into the raptor.

Arm slung over Dutch to support his weight and making his own wounded way towards the Raptor, Ashe makes sure to position himself so that the Cents are closest to him and not Dutch. "Let's go Sarge, quit your bitchin'." Even as he moves though he hits his com and calls out towards Epi. "Squealer, we're crossing now. Could use you riding my ass to make sure Sarge doesn't use his magnetic personality on anymore bullets."

Pike sits helplessly strapped in as the last two of her team scramble for their Raptor, teeth clenched.

Timon's eyes remain trained on his people. He's not saying a word, but judging from his expression, he's not at all happy about the circumstances he's in.

"Get your ass on the bird, Pilotlover," Epi calls after Ashe. Then she continues firing on the toasters, slowly moving to both feet as she pulls the trigger. "You're mother was a frakking soda can," she calls to the Centurions. Not like it'll do much, but screaming + Marines seems to go well together.

Roubani dodges bullets well when he's not looking, apparently. One goes whizzing by that he barely notices as he shoves the medic up ahead and sprints up the walkway.

"Wish I could get my gun and shoot out this window here," Timon says to Pike, his voice tight. "Hope your harness is nice and tight, Doctor. If not — hold on."

As soon as he reaches the Raptor, Thorn hastily ducks around Roubani and the medic and slaps the door control shut, then throws himself into his seat. "All right, Ivory, all aboard!" he shouts.

Kassia eyes are fixed on the hatch way, waiting for the others to get onboard she's almost jittery with waiting, really wanting to be away now.

Roubani is breathing hard, tossing down the very heavy bag of tapes with a thunk. He twists around, trying to see out the viewport back where the Marines are, worry in his dark eyes.

"Watch your legs kid-" Dutch growls out as he keeps moving with Ashe. Closer and closer they come to the frakking bird. "Lay me down when we get in, and I need someone to stop the bleeding from by my ear, and chest, those'll go quicker an kill me easier than m' arm.." Still giving orders as he moves wounded. Yeah He's a Marine alright.

Ashe continues to pull and help Dutch move. As he gets to the bird, he pushes Dutch forward and drops himself down just as bullets fly past him, managing to avoid them. Clamboring up to his feet, he starts to push Dutch a bit further in before turning. "Let's frakin' go Squealer!"

The two privates are still firing everything they've got, trying to provide cover for the injured Dutch, and terrified medic as they're hauled to the raptor.

Jason looks between the hatch and the DRADIS. Passengers and electric blips of the unfriendlies outside. He doesn't put his gun away yet. His jaw's tensed, though he manages to restrain any other signs of the nerves he must be feeling.

Pike looks to everyone, silently thankful that everyone made it back. "Is anyone hit?" she asks to the Raptor's occupants.

That's the last of them. And even though only a few of his passengers have found their seats, Timon cranks his aft and ventral thrusters to maximum, most likely sending flying anybody who's not strapped in properly. Foxbat-4 sheds snow as her hatch closes and she climbs airborne — a great brown bird taking wing.

"Someone put a gods-damned surret of morpha into me.." Dutch's growling as he is pulled into the Raptor. The Medic can't shut it off or so it seems. Eyes closing for a moment as he moves to keep his head up, but given his own bleed out and wounds. How long he'll stay with it, has yet to be seen. Get em outta here kiddos.

The adrenaline is still roaring in Thorn's ears as Ivory trips the thrusters, and he keeps flicking nervous glances down out of the nearest window port at the Marines that still haven't boarded Kassia's Raptor. He isn't ignoring his DRADIS console, though, and he curses as it changes again. "DRADIS contacts!" he calls out. "Ten more Centurions, approaching from the south!" He keys his general com circuit. "More Centurions coming in, Marine! Get the frak out of there!"

"I got more toasters on the DRADIS here, too, Thorn. Ten more," Jason says, speaking over the com-line so that fact can be shared. His gun is back in his holster now. He needs his hands free to work bird's the electronic controls.

Epi takes one to the chest, but it does nothing more than knock her back a few more steps toward the Raptor. Now that her gun is empty, Epi keeps it trained on the toasters, given they don't KNOW it's empty, and heads back for the raptor. "FALL BACK," she calls to the other two Marines. Then she, herself, is diving in.

The last two marines fire their shots, and scramble up into Kassia's raptor once everyone else is aboard. Three tincans down, though the last one is firing with both guns, for all he's worth.

Kassia blinks a little she's starting to be affected by the wound, her head is killing her and she's finding hard to focus. "Did the other Raptor team make it?" She asks into her Mic, her eyes straying to the third Raptor team "Is everyone in Lifer…?" she calls finally as Epi dives in, 8.7 for that performance, her voice wavering and her breath coming a little uneasy. She's then pushing the throttle forwards to initiate take off, with a little shudder the Raptor doesn't cooperate and she has to for the throttle forwards a few times before they finally make it off the ground and not gently the bird is bumping and blumping all around. "Sorry for the bump guys!" She says taking a deep breath and hoping she makes it back, landing is going to be a challenge in her state.

Timon hears his ECO but doesn't say a word — Centurions can't hit what's out of range, and Ivory's busy fighting against his controls to put distance between Foxbat-4 and the advancing toaster army. "Frakking wind" he curses under his breath, but by some miracle his bird holds steady as she climbs up out of the snowy hole in which she's been buried. Then and only then can he fire the Raptor's main engines, which roar to life just in time. With that, he jerks back on the stick, eyes scanning the cloud layer to find an open hole. They're not out of the woods yet.

With Dutch inside, Ashe pulls open the medic's kit and looks through it. "I knew I shoulda frakin' paid more attention in basic." He gets a stack of gauze out and looking at Dutch's armor to stop bleeding on the chest wound. "You frakin' idiot. Medics stay back, I take the bullets in this frakin' squad you jackass. Stealin' my frakin' work." Ashe grumbles it all while attempting to stop the worst of Dutch's bleeding.

"We're good to go, Flash," Jason says. He watches his pilot with obvious concern, wincing at the bump. Deep breath. Eyes back on the DRADIS.

"Pull off the armor you frakkin moron, then plug my gods damned chest. Not before.." a growl out and Elder's closing his eyes for a second. Pain's pretty bad-that much he can tell. one hand moving shakily to pull open his vest or at least help. "Quit your bitching you big pussy, and frakkin do what I tell you, when I tell you, and maybe I won't bleed out on the gods-damned floor." Because being anything else than growly, or scowling right now would not help the squad.

As the raptors' bay doors close, and the landing party buckles in — or gets slammed against walls, as the case may be — it becomes obvious that they're going back with only two birds. The pilot and ECO of raptor #3 are both dead, and the lone centurion on the ground stops firing, and whiiir klunks his way up the ramp of the grounded bird to look around inside. It seems the rest of them will live to fight another day, as the birds lift off with a growl of thrusters. And not a moment too soon; there are indeed more centurions approaching from the south, almost blending in with the snow.

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