Salvage, Baby!
Salvage, Baby!
Summary: Several hours after the events of A Cubit Short, Kharon dispatches a team of Raptors for post-battle SAR and salvage. They return with survivors.
Date: PHD134
Related Logs: A Cubit Short logs

The bustle on the Hangar Bay is pretty high since the jumping earlier, and the mission. Repair work is already hot and heavy on the vipers that took heavy hits, and there was a pretty hefty stream of raptor action herding the Elpis survivors, 32 in all, back to the belly of the Kharon.

Now the more dangerous mission commences. In the shadow of two seemingly destroyed basestars, a mission of 2 raptors is scheduled to go out to search the debris field for potential survivors, sifting the life pods and chunks of debris down to the quarters of the Bellerophon, and the space dust of some of the more unfortunate members of the civvie fleet.

Nigel, of course, pretty much insisted on being allowed to go. After all, it was his damn ship for four years and he's going to be the one to send this old girl to her grave. Yeah.

And Thea, of course, is ready to go back out again. She's in her flight suit, helmet under her arm, checklist in hand as she does her pre-flight.

Still shaken by the other night's events, Kitty finds herself back in her flightsuit despite the fact that she's not really wanting to get back into a Raptor. The chaos is a welcome distraction from her worries as she is now watching the crew do their job while she waits for the 'fun' to begin.

Komnenos is here too, ready for another round. Helmet in one hand, clipboard in the other, he leans against his Raptor's wing as he works silently on his checklist.

Wearing one of those not-so-spiffy white EVA suits (aka Marshmallow Suits to those who've had to run in them, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), Roubani arrives on the flight deck as a couple other snipes get some necessary equipment loaded into the Raptor. He has a name to figure out, and the one unfamiliar face is probably that man. "Petty Officer Milius?"

Fresh from sickbay, and still sporting a bandaged-up hand as well as gauze taped to a head injury he no doubt sustained from his viper breaking apart, the CAG heads up the stairs and strides through the hangar bay. No rest for the weary, it seems; he's carrying a clipboard with a few hastily-scrawled notes for what promises to be an even hastier mission briefing.

Oh yeah. Did we mention that Petty Officer STA-PUFT is also geared for fun-filled space walk duty? Helmet's not affixed, yet, but other than that, his large, square head pokes out of the neck seal and cranes around to blink as Roubani addresses him. "That's me." He drawls, getting a closer look at the man with a blink of his eyes. He amends, "Sir."

"Thorn," Thea calls quietly. "You're with me." As if he didn't already know that. "We're going to be going out into some shitty soup. You up for this?" The Captain studies the ECO, head canted slightly to the side.

After checking off the pre-flight material, Lieutenant JG Dorothy "Ciggie" Parker turns from the Foxbat to glance toward her ECO for the day. "You ready to go, rook?" She reaches up to secure the collar on her own flight suit before she reaches for her flight helmet. "I brought the barf bags if you think you might need one. We're looking at a lot of civviecicles."

Roubani nods slightly to the blond PO. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Roubani." After a slightly clunky second he adds, awkwardly, "Welcome aboard." His dark eyes glance at Thea and then Kai as the CAG shows on deck, and he turns to face that way with a formal straightening of shoulders. There's a salute towards both Captains, even if it's pretty damn annoying to do in a puffsuit.

Thorn scrawls his name into the signature box of the checklist just as Thea addresses him. He looks up at the Raptor captain, a masklike expression on his face as he shoves the clipboard into the hands of the nearest deckhand. "The day I'm not is th' day you bury me, sir," he replies. "Ready t' go."

Kai is afforded a wide berth by most of the deck crew, who probably know better than to get in the Captain's way when he's warpathing. Which, with the look on his face at the moment? Yeah, he's definitely warpathing. "All right" His clipboard's smacked against the nose of a viper he passes. It's currently being swarmed by no less than three mechanics in orange coveralls, blowtorches sparking as they rip off a few key components of the undercarriage and start fusing new pieces in place. "listen up. We've got a hell of a mess out there, and it isn't going to be pretty. I need one engineer in each raptor, everyone in EVA suits — check your hardseals and oxygen, life support's probably shot to shit over there — and a standard repair and winch loadout on each boat. This is a salvage mission, though you'll be keeping an eye out for any fucntional life pods. Any questions?"

"Well, Lieutenant." Nigel calls forth in an accent that sounds slightly backcountry. "Guess you're my new lord and master. It's a pleasure." And -then- there's a salute. "Guess this job won't be though." He smiles a tight, if humorless smile and lumbers around towards the area where the Raptors are parked, eyeing the rides.

Nigel immediately turns on his heels thereafter and salutes the CAG, silently. Indicating. No. No questions.

Kitty looks up at her pilot and nods "I'm ready. And…might want to keep those close by, yeah." She doesn't like having to confess to possibly needing barf bags but she'd rather have them just in case and not make a mess of things and than not have them and have to clean up after herself. She listens once the briefing starts.

LtJG Parker, 'Ciggie' to her friends, turns to face the CAG as he barrels in with his usual warpath style. The raptor driver nods sharply to the mission parameters. "Can I have the fat one, sir? He looks like he tells good tales." She's referring, of course, to poor Nigel. Parker likes her tales. And recipes. Maybe she's thinking he has some.

Thea pulls up to a salute after she hears that Kai's on deck, then nods when he gives the orders. Clearly, she's got no questions. She's ready to go, it would appear. But then there's Parker. Her throat clears, quietly.

"No, sir," Roubani replies to the questions question, his voice kept low and even. He doesn't move until they're given signal to break though, nor does he say anything else as to the arrangements.

"No sir," Kitty echoes.

Thorn, too, is his usual questionless self. He simply stands next to the Raptor, folding his arms and waiting for the CAG to finish speaking. His helmet taps against his side, almost impatiently.

Nigel's head rolls lazily to eye Ciggie. He's all smiles. There's something distinctly creepy about this particular smile. Maybe it's just the context. "Oh, I got stories, Sir." Without further ado, he begins to affix his helmet, checks seals, etc, blah blah blah.

"Yes, Parker, you can have the fat one. But if he breaks your fingers for calling him fat, both of your asses are mine." It's spoken pretty drily; the CAG does not look up from his clipboard. He wipes his good hand off on the thigh of his flight suit— sweaty, maybe? "All right, if there aren't any more questions, then gods' speed and good hunting. Black Cat's the best we've got, she'll bring you back safe."

Ciggie's eyes stray from the CAG to briefly fix on the snipe in question. Her chin draws down just a little, at the look he gives her. At the intonation of asses, her eye snap back to Captain Marek. "Yessir." Her eyes flick to the raptor Captain then, she grins, and then before she secures her helmet, she looks askance at Nigel. One eye on the snipe at all times!

Roubani, apparently and aptly 'the skinny one' on the snipe side of the operation, turns away as Kai finishes. "Milius. Stay in contact with your status. I shall see you on the other side." Whether that means the black of space, the deck of the Bellerophon, or back here at safety, who knows at this point.

"Looks like you're mine, Roubani," Thorn's walking slowly around the Raptor as the CAG finishes, and he creeps up on Roubani with a wry little smile as the younger man turns away from the unfamiliar enlisted snipe. "Ready?"

Thea looks over at Kai, apparently trying to catch his eye, and offers both a smile and a salute. "Alright people, you heard the CAG. Mount up and let's get out there. Poet, Thorn, load up."

"These things add twenty kilos." Nigel finally huffs from behind the helmet's canopy as he pats his EVA suit, grunting as it's firmly in place. He looks in askance towards Roubani and nods his head, simply. "Aye, sir. If y'all get lost on board the Bell,, give me a shout." He lumbers over towards the assigned Raptor and climbs aboard. Only having done so, does he finally let out a heavy sigh, some of the affected good humor fleeing him. For him, this is probably like gravedigging.

Parker steps up on the wind of her raptor, and patpats the side of it as she passes through the hatch to take up her position in the front seat. "Let's get 'er done, Crybaby. Hey, Cornbread, shake a leg. We got a special comfy seat for you in the back." She straps in and leaves her ECO to tuck in the snipe and close the doors.

Parker steps up on the wing of her raptor, and patpats the side of it as she passes through the hatch to take up her position in the front seat. "Let's get 'er done, Crybaby. Hey, Cornbread, shake a leg. We got a special comfy seat for you in the back." She straps in and leaves her ECO to tuck in the snipe and close the doors.

Kai meets Thea's eyes when she looks over, and flickers a small smile. The salute's returned, the man lingers a moment, then turns to head briskly off the deck. His watch is checked as he strides away; places to go, people to answer to.

Roubani nods to Thorn, not quite smiling at the ECO. To Thea he says simply, "Yes, sir," and then heads for the designated Raptor while running his check on his suit. Zips, seals, air. Awesome.

Kitty looks at the guy flying with them and she raises a brow, shaking her head. "Come on. Get in." She's not very polite and probably will feel like a metric ton of crap over being abrupt with him but right now she's in a hurry to get the DRADIS up and give everything on her end one last looksee before they take off.

"Right." Thorn's helmet is donned, the seals clicking into place with a reassuring hiss. With that, he ducks into the open hatch of the nearby Raptor. He takes his customary position in the back seat and immediately begins preparing for launch.

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] In response, Nigel simply drawls as he settles in, checking his suit one last time. "I hate cornbread." There's a pause. Ciggie got her wish. "I used to serve with this guy when I was groundside. Sergeant Long. Apparently he was some kinda spec-ops badass — Did SERE training an' all that. Well, he had this recipe that he shared.."

Thea settles into the pilot's seat and glances over her shoulder. "You know how this all works, Poet. Let me know when you're settled in."

"I'd reiterate my 'no puking on my deck' policy, but we're not hauling Marines this time," offers Thorn dryly from the back as he goes through the preflight routine. "DRADIS green. ECM green. Communications green. Power systems green." He runs down the checklist for Thea's benefit. "Ready t' launch whenever we have clearance, Black Cat."
[TAC3] (from Nemesis) LtJG Dorothy "Ciggie" Parker's voice comes over comms, "Black Cat, Ciggie. Ready for launch on your go."

Roubani takes his seat, pulling the safety belt across his chest and lap and securing it with a click. It's harder than it looks in an EVA suit. "Chesham be rahe jadde has…bargard, bargard…" He murmurs under his breath, then looks up and over at Thea and Thorn. "No, no stomach contents, Thorn. I do promise. Ready, Captain."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Roger, Ciggie. When we launch, you're going to take Starboard, we'll take Port. Running standard grid search pattern from here to Bellerphon."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "Copy that, Black Cat. Mark one eyeball."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "CIC, Black Cat. Two Foxbats ready to take off on your clearance."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) An anonymous sort of comms operator up in CIC replies, "Black Cat, Kharon. You are clear for launch. Good hunting."

[Foxbat-7: Nemesis] Foxbat-7 putputs out of the Kharon's bay. Ciggie is a fairly sedate stick, or maybe it has something to do with the gruesome scene still painted before them, which is amply visible through the crystal clear viewport of the raptors.

Space. Still full of horrific debris and bodies. The scene from earlier hasn't much changed, except now it contains even more raider mess, bits of the various ships destroyed in the mission last night floating about like some sort of gruesome modern art piece about blenders and the war machine. Now with 95 percent more human corpses, or, as Ciggie likes to call them: Civviecicles.

The space nearest the CEC Kharon is fairly clear, but on approach to the Bell, it's just a mess. Chunks and bits, mechanical, cylon, Colonial, and fleshy frozen things are all the rage today, leaving the pilots with no choice by to tiptoe through the tulips and do their level best not to bank through too many corpses. Inevitably, debris bounce off of the raptors.

The field is so loaded that DRADIS is questionable, but other systems may be useful, such as heat signatures. Contacts blend into one another, and the only real sure way is the old mark one eyeball.

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Ciggie, Crybaby, Black Cat. Keep your eyes peeled out here. It's like flying through a bowl of vegetable soup. Sing out if you find something."

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Thea's raptor follows behind Ciggie's on the way out, cutting off to the other side slowly and carefully. There's no rush tonight - at least, not that anyone's aware of. The Civvicicles aren't going to thaw and no one's dinner's going to get hot if the Raptors take their time. She calls over her shoulder, "Poet? It's going to get a little rough out here. Thorn? Are you seeing anything?" She's relaxed, for the most part.

Roubani twists slightly in his seat, keeping an eye out the 'window' by his face at the debris that glides past. There's a soft "Mm," in his throat at Thea's warning about it getting rough, but come on. They've crash landed on a planet, yo. He draws in a soft breath through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly at the glinty things. Keeping an eye out for things on the way that look like they might still have a gasp of usefulness in them.

Thorn frowns from the backseat. Yeah, actually, he does see something. "Intermittent DRADIS contact, two-eight-three carom one-six-two." A pause. "I think. Hard t' lock it down."

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "All ships, Thorn. I've got an intermittent DRADIS contact, coming from somewhere off the Bellerophon's port bow. Can't isolate, though." *pause* "Y' see anything over there, Crybaby?"

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Ahhh, space. The final frontier. Definitely the final frontier, or the last frontier, for some of the bodies delicately gliding through. See, there's one right there! Looks like the remains of a pilot - sans helmet, and head - drifting into the remains of a raider, as if engaged in a post-mortem fight. Some people never give up, even after death. Another body bounces lightly off the side of the Raptor making a quiet ponging sound. Pings are reserved for the metal. And still Thea's bird continues to move through the makeshift graveyard, turning slightly toward a certain direction.

"Copy that," Thea says to Thorn, dipping her head. "Adjusting course. Hopefully it's something good out there. I'd like there to be something, anything, worth saving out of this massacre."

[TAC3] "Crybaby" Kitty says, "Yeah, I got something Thorn but it's on the starboard. Can't really make out any details, though. Might need to get closer before we can make heads or tails of it all."

One can assume Roubani probably agrees with Thorn, but he's keeping quiet for the time being. His eyes stay on the area they're referencing, squinting faintly as they change course.

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Ciggie, Black Cat. Take it in toward what your ECO found. If the debris field is too thick, see if you can go at it from behind."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker replies over comms, "Copy. Black Cat. Swinging wide starboard to take a closer look at our contact. Engaging in frat boy approach."

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "What's that, Ciggie… fat, dumb, and drunk?"

"Traumatic experience, Thorn?" Roubani's voice asks drily from the back seat.

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "If only, Thorn. If only."

Legacy just groans quietly at that. "Thorn? You need to keep your personal life out of the cockpit." Pause, grin. "Well, unless you want to share that story."

[Foxbat-7: Nemesis] Fox-7 continues on its careful path, course altering slightly to bring it more starboard after input from the ECO is received, on a more or less intercept course with the fore section of what used to be the Battlestar Bellerophon. This is, of course, the side nearer the ruined basestars. One might say it will bring the small raptor directly into their shadow. Uncomfortaaaaaaable.

The musical smattering of debris across the hull is soft, almost musical. It's like a gentle rain, except… tinny. The way is littered with debris, and more than a few times thrusters are engaged to maneuver suddenly, but smoothly. The approach other side is much the same. There's a lot of mess to bounce. ETA to respective targets is about two minutes under current conditions.

"I'm not counting on it," Thorn says blandly from the back seat as he continues to scan for any signs of… well, anything. He rolls his eyes at the other two. "Not much of a story, other than th' fact that I was a condescending prick in college."

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Fox-4 is mirroring Fox-7's path, slithering through the debris field, getting hit on more than a blonde who knows who Gandolf is at a Sci-Fi convention. Only a couple bodies get hit with the raptor. What? Try driving through the body field and see how many get missed. The Foxbat pulls up slowly in front of what appears to be, of all things, a life pod - one that's venting slowly.

Thea's swear is quiet. "Thorn, is that what I think it is," she asks. "Poet? Looks like we have a life pod out there. Get ready to do your thing."

[Foxbat-7: Nemesis] Ciggie is too busy looking at a corpse that just bounced off the view port to notice a large piece of debris that turns lazily, and scrapes over the side of the raptor with a heavy grrrrrrrrrrrrrscrreeeeeeap noise.

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker grunts, "Frak me, paint job."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Kharon CIC, Black Cat. Looks like we've got a life pod out here. It's venting slowly. Preparing to attempt recovery. Unknown on survivors."

[TAC3] "Crybaby" Kitty says, "I'm having problems gettig a good lock on it's position. It looks like we're close but that's about all I can make out. Thorn, are you having any better luck, buddy?"

"Not much of one, if it is," Thorn reports, eyes still glued to DRADIS. "Heat signature barely registers."

Roubani has been sitting in silence, attentive and slightly tense as they flew. At this particular call he turns his head back towards the 'window', taking a breath in through his nose. "Copy, Captain. Ready to go."

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "Not really, Crybaby. We're pretty close — but there's so much floating drek clouding up my DRADIS, I can barely isolate anything."

"Nothing on the comms, either," Thorn reports to Thea after another pause. "We're the only ones talking out here." Another look over the readings. "Whatever it is we found, it's not going t' last. Heat signature is negligible and beginning to fade."

"Poet? I'm thinking that pod's going to need a patch to get us in. How quickly can you do it?" Thea calls over her shoulder. She shifts slightly in her seat. "Thorn, keep an eye on the heat signatures."

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Foxbat-4 comes closer to the metal pod that's causing so much excitement, pulling up alongside so that its passenger can get out and perform spacewalk magic. Thea's expression, behind her helmet's faceplate, is a touch tense.

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "Kharon, we've got a … life pod with raider collision here, and it looks like it has power. Sending the tubby snipe out to investigate."

"Not like there's much else t' watch out here," Thorn says quietly, but all the same, his eyes never leave the scanner display.

Roubani unbuckles his belt, moving carefully across the back of the Raptor to one of the kits they've hauled onboard. "Swing around and give me as much floodlight as you can, Captain?" he says, grabbing some tools out of the kit. "I'll need to see it up close to give you an estimate. If it's small it shouldn't take more than ten minutes." A second of shuffling about. "I'm ready for the hatch back here."

Thea brings the Raptor around so that the magician can work. "Thorn, let Poet out please. And make sure to let him back in when he's through? You know that it's your responsibility to feed and water the engineer, and play with him. If he ends up brooding because he's not getting played with, I'm blaming you and you get your engineer privs revoked."

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Foxbat-4 swings around slightly, the floodlight turning on the little pod, the hatch lining up to make the engineer's job easier. It's kind of like watching something hold still during a space debris ballet, honestly. Something is out of place, and that something is likely the Raptor.

[TAC3] Nigel crackles, wryly over the comms."I'll be sure to put on a good show for the money, Lieutenant." A pause. "Foxbats, Petty Officer Milius. Exitin' the hatch to go sift through the ashes, over."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "Don't forget to tie off, Stay Puft. I don't wanna play pyramid with the debris today. Too many bodies on the field."

There's a snort of surprised laughter from Komnenos. "Hey, I didn't ask for th' bloody snipe. You're th' one that brought him home." He shakes his head with a small smile, then equalizes the pressure and slaps the hatch control, allowing Roubani to exit. "Good luck, Poet," he adds, a bit more seriously now.

[TAC3] "Crybaby" Kitty says, "Hey Thorn, I'm going to be widening our DRADIS' scan range, make sure we don't get ambushed while we have our pants down around our ankles. I might lose contact with the lifepod so can you keep an eye out on it for us, please?"

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] As Foxbat-4's hatch opens, Roubani's hand is around the handrail in the very back. The yawning darkness of space and its deathstacle course outside force him to take a second to listen to the soft roar of the oxygen flow in his helmet before he steps off the deck, a push with his foot sending him forward towards the venting pod. His tielie starts to straighten behind him.

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "Copy, Crybaby. Minding the store."

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Black Cat, Poet. I have contact, checking it over now. And Thorn, I expect treats."

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "You'll have t' do a trick first, Poet."

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "I don't need you fainting at the helm, Thorn."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Poet, Black Cat. Copy. And if you leave a present on the deck, make sure to leave it in his boots, not mine. I don't do hairballs."

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "You do it, Roubani, you're cleaning it up. With your tongue."

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] On cue, Foxbat-7's hatch pops open as a trace venting of O2 occurs. After securing his tether, an EVA-suited Nigel slips on out, pausing with a strange undulation. Maybe he's getting used to being out in a vacuum. Or maybe he's staying true to his word for Ciggie. What's a buttshake in space look like, anyway

P.O. Milius then starts to jump on out with a kick once secure, in time with his altogether classier and officer-like Engineering counterpart.

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani actually says it, yes. Drily. "Gosh."

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "No one fraks with my boots, bro."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Thorn? Remember who's got the keys to the house here. You make Poet do that, then you're going after it. With YOUR tongue."

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] Synchronised engineering. All they need are little flowers all over their helmets and a camera shot of gleaming teeth. Roubani's breathing is loud in his helmet as he grabs onto the side of the pod with his stay-puft hands, pulling himself along to where the thing is venting a soft mist. Clinging thus, in the light of the Raptor, he gets to work.

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "Black Cat, I'm not sure if I want t' do anything for you that involves my tongue."

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Black Cat, Poet. The leak is a small one. Estimated time for repair…five minutes."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Thorn, you may not get a choice. Poet, copy. Can you tell anything from where you are? Hear any noises inside? Anything?"

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] Really. You can totally hear the Colonial equivalent of a Strauss waltz as the puffy-suited men do their thing. drifting on out to a seperate section of the wreck, but still within visual scan range of Roubani, Nigel latches on and starts leaning forwards in the vaccum to study the thing, getting down to business.

[TAC3] Nigel says, "Raptors, uh, this is Milius. We need t' be careful with this mess. If we just pull the Raider out, th'damn thing's going to vent. Frak, this is like the Majors County Fair. Only without the Paulson boys."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "You figure you can hook a line on it while you're out there, Space Biscuit?"

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] Roubani gets a foot wedged into a small, ripped bit of metal, twisting his body a little bit as he works on the leak. Nigel being far too far away to see, he keeps all his attention on the pod and the voices in his comm unit. Once the venting is patched, he grabs ahold of part of the side, a small tug sending his body upwards until he stops himself, trying to peer into any clear plates to check for people.

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Black Cat, Poet. This one looks like it's got some fire damage…shrapnel here. I'm trying for visual contact now."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Roger, Poet. Once you're clear, we'll deploy tow ropes and get it home. Ciggie, how are you holding up over there?"

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Copy that, Black Cat." There's a couple seconds of pause, then he speaks quickly. "Confirmed occupants…I can see four from here. Possibly more. None conscious."

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] Workng before spaking, Nigel starts ambling up the side of the life pod after bracing himself against it with his legs. He starts fumbling with the tow line and starts to securely attach the cable in true, brisk, sailor-like fashion. As he does so he climbs a bit to get leverage. One can see him pointing at the viewport on the pod.

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Roger, Poet. Get your ass back on the Raptor so we can get this pod home."

"Thorn? See if you can lock onto the life signs after we get the ropes deployed," Thea says quietly, all joking aside now. "I'm going to want to get us back as quickly as possible."

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Black Cat, Poet. Copy. I could put a seal on it and cut through to check for vitals, though that would take more time out here. Another six minutes, approximately."

[TAC3] Nigel says, "Milius here. Second that. There's folks inside. They look all beat to shit, though. Uhh. We might be able to make a hard seal and drop some of our baggage which would be a faster tow."

As irreverent as he is, Thorn knows when it's time to quit messing around. Usually. "Right," he responds brusquely, once again putting his scanners to work.

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Poet, Black Cat. If you think you can cut in and get them out safely, let's take that route."

[TAC3] "Crybaby" Kitty says, "We're still in the all clear so if you think it's necessary we should have time."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "Black Cat, copy. Establishing hard seal and grabbing the cargo. It's your show, snipes. Crybaby, when he's through, help him with the passengers."

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Negative, sir. They're unconscious and may be injured; I would rather not risk further injury by attempting to move them all. Recommend full tow."

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] Petty Officer Balls of Tungsten and Blood o' Tylium just cranes his head over towards the Officer on duty out in the void. It's good to be in charge. Good for someone else to be, anyway. In his mindset.

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Poet, Black Cat. They're going to risk even more injury if I have to tow them. If you're -sure-, we can set up the tow. But I want you absolutely sure you'd cause more injury by moving them than if we towed them. If they're on board the Raptor, we can get them home faster."

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] Getting the call, Nigel busts out some industrial, daresay -military-grade- power tools. The kind that his dad probably got unreasonably excited about, daydreamed about while taking long trips to the hardware store when he was a kid. Cutting torch, indeed, FTW.

[TAC3] Nigel simply rumbles, "Let's get a rope and an acetylene torch on this beast."

[Foxbat-7: Nemesis] Fox-7 sits quietly pressed close to the hull of the life pod, with a seal in the progress of being made, and a snipe cutting through the pod's hull to go after the fruity filling. The pilot keeps a weather eye for any uppity debris, but everything seems to be more or less floating in its own space.

The hull of the life pod Nigel cuts through isn't as thick as other hulls the snipe has probably worked with before. Life pods, while handy in situations such as enemy engagements, are meant for emergency fleeing, not protection from missiles and fire. The job is easy going, and with a hard seal in place, should be up and running in just a couple of minutes.

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] Foom. Fzzt. Pow. Zing. Zot. Plotz. Nigel's in the happiest place he knows. That's destroying a piece of machinery for a good cause. That being said, if one were to be able to see his face right now, he ain't happy. The torch slices through the thin skin of the pod like a hot knife through butter. Butter with the texture of a cheap beer can.

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] Torch this frakker! Er…that is, establish a careful seal and then spend a painstaking bit of time cutting carefully through the hull. Or something about in between, since Roubani's a bit slow. Difficult bits of crushed metal. Flares of light are visible from the Raptor as the torch turns on and off, cutting a blazing line through the tortured hull of the pod.

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Foxbat-4 maintains its careful hover not too far from Roubani. Gotta love being the anchor point! Really!

All Thea can do now is wait while Roubani does his magic. She's got that Zenlike relaxation thing going on. "Come on," she murmurs quietly.

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] Sparks fly. Metal melts. And brother, Nigel breaks things. Shifting a little to study Roubani's status, he gives his erstwhile Engineering boss a thumbs-up indicating progress according to plan on his end.

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] Better hope none of those people wake up. This would scare the hell out of anyone, waking up and seeing the STAY-PUFT man with a fishbowl on his head blowtorching a hole right towards your trapped face. Roubani finally gets that seal in place and hole cut, killing the torch and sliding his leg off the fixture he'd been using to hang onto the thing with.

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Black Cat, Poet. Pod's ready. Milius, status over there?"

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Roger Poet. Get them on board. Do you need an extra set of hands?"

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] Roubani's white suit can be seen disappearing from sight as he drops down into the pod…

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] There's some more cutting as Nigel continues his handywork, and it's a good thing the light of the torch is reflected in the glossy expanse of helmet. That's the last face you'd want to see when waking up. Yep. His end of the work is completed, apparently.

[TAC3] Nigel says, "All's well on this end, Sir."

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Copy, Milius. Black Cat, checking vitals now. Oxygen's just about gone…I've got only one alive, sir. Might need some help getting his shoulders up out of here. Has Thorn got a hand free?"

"Thorn, go," Thea says quietly. "I've got it."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Sending Thorn to you, Poet."

[TAC3] "Thorn" Komnenos says, "On th' way, Poet."

[TAC3] Nigel says, "Copy the Lieutenant. We got people!"

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] In the pod, Roubani's gotten his shoulder under the deadweight of a man's arm. "Thorn! Over here." With some difficulty he stands up and cranes his back, pushing the man up towards Komnenos to grab hold of.

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "Grab the live ones and let's get 'em loaded. There's a blonde civviesicle staring at me and I think the eyes are following me. This place gives me the creeps."

[Foxbat-4: Komnenos] Thorn nods from the back, and rises from his station at the sound of the chatter. He disappears into the pod, grabbing a hold of the comatose man and pulling him back up towards the safety of the Raptor with a grimace.

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Ciggie? Let's have just a little bit of respect for the dead please. Get the live ones and tags on those who've passed."

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Black Cat, Poet. Are we bringing the dead aboard, sir?"

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Black Cat, Poet. Thorn's got him…getting the tags from the others now."

[TAC3] Nigel says, "We've got one woman, live and conscious. One female who's — out but stirring. And she's with a male who's bleeding. Two dead. This ain't pretty, folks. Gonna need a hand here, maybe?"

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] Roubani ducks back into the pod, movements stiff as he searches the dead bodies for tags or other ID. There's a little murmured prayer here and there but it's not loud enough to carry across the com unit.

[Foxbat-4: Komnenos] With the sole live occupant of their pod extracted, Thorn remains in the ship after dragging the man into the Raptor. He gently slides the man's form into one of the seats, strapping him in before resuming his station and going back to his scans.

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Thea's Foxbat remains in the hovering position while one person is loaded on and Roubani takes care of the tags from the other. Tension seems to pervade the Raptor.

[Foxbat-7: Nemesis] Fox-7 mirrors Fox-4s position, waiting for its precious cargo.

[Foxbat-4: Roubani] Roubani finally climbs back into Foxbat-4, a handful of dogtags jingling solemnly in the quiet of the Raptor's interior. He hauls his kit back towards the seats, pushing it under one with his booted foot.

[TAC3] "Poet" Roubani says, "Milius, how is it going over there?"

[TAC3] Nigel says, "Milius here. Two lovely ladies. One's on her feet n' doesn't look too bad. One's out. She's in uniform. Awake one's a pilot of some kind. An' we got this poor fellow here bleedin' like a pig. Two dead. It's your call if you want to retrieve the bodies. Hafta make another trip."

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Milius, Black Cat. The order was given. Get the tags from the dead, bring back the live."

[TAC3] Nigel says, drily enough. "Yes sir. No tags or identification to be had. Just checkin'."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "Black Cat, Ciggie. Our live ones are aboard and we're locked up tight, ready to move. Request permission to RTB and offload."

[Foxbat-7: Nigel] Huff. Puff. Nigel's billowy-suited self hauls the incapacitated redhead man through the seal with a few grunts of exertion. He's getting blood all over the Snipe's EVA suit. Eww. "Huh. We got visitors." Setting the man down with as much delicacy as he can muster, his shoulders slump, as he looks to the other two women. Check that. Other -four- women.

Roubani exhales quietly as he sits back down in his seat, reaching for the safety belt. He keeps an eye on the unconscious man stretched out in their backseat.

[TAC3] "Black Cat" Legacy says, "Copy Ciggie. RTB. Both Raptors heading in. Kharon, Black Cat. Two salvage patrol returning with live ones. Request Security and Medical meet us in the Hangar Bay."

[TAC3] (from Nemesis) "Ciggie" Parker says, "Copy that, Black Cat. See you back at the barn."

[Foxbat-7: Nemesis] Fox-7's thrusters light up and the raptor pulls away from the raider and shuttle sammich. The raptor turns, drops below the main field of debris, and skirts along the bottom, avoiding the largest chunks. Again, a ghoulish symphony of things clattering and thodding off the hull commences. It's a musical serenade all the way back to the barn.

[Foxbat-4: Legacy] Foxbat-4 pulls away from the life pod, and the dead. That's probably the hardest part, leaving the bodies out here in the cold black of space. But it goes, taking the living with it. The trek back to Kharon is a slow one, given the amount of debris and bodies that need to be avoided. Perhaps some of the same bodies that were hit on the way out are tapped on the way back in as Thea slides down to mirror Ciggie's flight path. She's just behind the other Foxbat.

Once the doors are cracked on the foxbat-7, Batista exits without hesitation. Holy freedom. The last hours in that life pod, floating about in space, were clearly not high priority on the fun list. She bleeds from a superficial head wound, smeared at her forehead, and she doesn't stop moving till she's off the raptor wing and seated on the deck plating. Thank you, Gods.

LtJG "Ciggie" Parker glances over to Kitty as they exit the bird after their passengers. Parker thumbs over her shoulder. "There's an unconscious one in there with a death grip on her rifle. I'm not touching her. Where are those Mps?"

Struggle struggle, fumble, fumble, the helmet comes off the Marshmallow suit's head. Nigel's thin hair is plastered against his sweaty skull. Beady eyes blink. "Well. That was somethin' anyway."

Don't worry, Marines are here to make sure everyone gets a nice, warm welcome. Both Sergeant Volker and Private Dover are standing about three feet apart at one side of the raptor, weapons slung to rest against their torsos for the moment. It's a cross between comforting and two men outwardly emoting 'Do something stupid. We dare you.'

Kitty exits the ship, a pistol in hand which is being held carefully. "Who would like to put this away for our guests," she says while holding it out, semi-offering it to whomever is closest to her, security-wise, and semi-trying not to accidentally shoot herself.

"I like the sound of her already!" Yes, that would be Dover upon hearing the words 'Death grip' and 'her' in the same sentence. He's scrambling his ass up the side of the raptor before Volker even has a chance to stick his arm out to stop him.

Injured? There's injured people? One wouldn't know from Thorn's reaction, as he remains in the bird to run through the usual postflight routine after Legacy steps down. It doesn't take the veteran ECO long to finish, though, and soon he follows Thea out the hatch, cradling his helmet in his hand as he steps down from the wing.

The 'her' in question is wearing the uniform of a Colonial Lieutenant, and holding onto that rifle like it's a child she's trying to save. Emmanuelle Mimieux is still out like a light. Consciousness? Not really her thing at the moment. But her skin has the proper color and her pulse is good, for the most part.

Volker, on the other hand, just steps forward to offer his hand out to Kitty. "Mind if I take that, Ajtai?" Half a face, but still a comforting smile when it needs to be. Although admittedly more of his focus is on the weapon than the ECO. "…And, erm.. who had that, exactly?"

In the meantime, Sta-puft quietly excuses himself. Those suits chafe, you know.

"Oh yes. Here you are, Sergeant. Make sure it's properly labled so the lady can get it back with no difficulties when the time comes, please." The weapon is handed over to the marine while pointing out the proper person, that being Batista. When the gun is in the proper hands she looks around and asks, "Would it be alright if I went to medical to check on those who have been injured, sir," the question posed to Legacy.

Thorn exhales as he slowly walks his way through the bustle that is the hangar deck after an operation. A hand runs through sweat-streaked hair as he trudges in the general direction of the other Raptor, where the Marines and other pilots are congregating.

Thea reaches out to touch Thorn's shoulder and offers him a smile. "Good work out there," she says quietly. "Go up and get cleaned up. You've earned a night of rest…" But then he's gone and she's being asked a question by Kitty. "Go on," she tells Kitty, dipping her head. "Good work out there tonight. You too, Ciggie. I'll be working on the AAR in the office, if I'm needed."

From inside the raptor, there's the sound of grunting, a little wailing and something not unlike a child trying to open a sealed jar of honey. About five seconds later, the unmistakeable voice of Pvt Dover pipes out of the door. "SAAAAARGE, SHE WON'T LET GOOOOO."

Nigel pauses a bit though as he shoots a wave towards his now-former Raptor crew. "Pleasure flyin' with ya, Sirs! Gotta get debrief. 'Fore something else breaks." He smiles, with obviously feigned cheeriness.

"Not bad out there today, Croissant," Parker nods toward Nigel. She stows her flight helmet under her arm, then glances back toward her raptor, and the large scrape down the side of the hull. It looks like the tbird after little Jimmy backed into the mailbox and scraped it down the side. She clears her throat, shoots a look at Legacy, and nods. "Sir."

Bastista's flight suit has many pockets. No telling what else she has on her. She remains sitting by the scraped up raptor, taking a moment of alone time with the open expanse of Hangar Bay. Breathe in, breathe out.

Volker takes the pistol, hitting the magazine release and peering at the top before it dissapears into an empty pouch. The pistol gets it's slide racked, sending a previous chambered round spinning into the air and then into the Sergeant's hand. His little moment of looking badass and glancing to Batista is interrupted by the yelling. Siiigh. Eye roll. "Clear the mag and pull the damn charging handle, Dover! Better she has a damn club when she wakes up than a gun." Back to staring at Batista while giving glances to the other Civilians. Oh shit, he's thinking.

And that's the point when Thea makes her way toward her 'office,' to work on the AAR.

Kitty looks at Thea and smiles. "Thank you, sir. Good job…" She winks to the Captain and then pats the shoulders of those she went out on the mission with, offers the newly arrived rescue-ees a warm smile and then she's running out of the hangar.

Thorn, too, is on his way out of the hangar, but he's in no real hurry. He's already reaching for his pack of cigarettes as he nears the stairs.

The sweaty Engineer gives Ciggie a hideous-looking grin and disappears down the stairwell afterwards.

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