AWD #265: A Trip Down to Stores
A Trip Down to Stores
Summary: A group of Orion's marines relax at Crandall before being inturpted by nearby gunfire.
Date: 28/Sep/2013
Related Logs: All things Crandall
Amos Kostas Mallas Afton 
Alert Room - Crandall
Squadron ready rooms double as locker rooms for the aircrews and their gear, metal-faced wooden lockers on each wall with large gear tables down the center dominate the rooms. Down the hall slightly is the Alert Facility which doubles as the break room. It has a vending machine that is years old, a busted refrigerator that is not working and a sink with a microwave. There are a few couches and chairs around an old television with a stack of movies. Communal beds at the rear of the room are provided for those on alert duty, but no privacy is afforded here.
AWD #265

Given that the entirity of the base is not yet secured, order of the day is still very uch armour and guns for those poking around, not just those actively engaged in patrolling or rooting out the hangers-on. As such, Amos is decked out in a fresh set of combat gear, but for now at least, is taking his ease in one of the battered chairs of the alert room. It's been a long night but he did get some sleep, and also some medical attention, but he doesn't seem willing yet to fully hand over to the Peak's forces and retire back to his own bunk for rest. Radio on and tuned to the general comms frequency so he can keep track of events as they unfold he's currently taking five, along with a small handful of other marines from various regiments and battalions.

Kostas seems oddly at ease with the threat level still high, still helmeted, though the tight chin strap has been loosened and her rifle is slung over her shoulder as well. She's changed out the underpinnings, so there's no rips or holes in the arms where the bullets went in, and her uniform is more dusty from exploring than bloody. With a moment's respite, her jaw is a little pooched out on one side as she sucks on a peppermint, and eyeballs the vending machine quite closely before turning away with a grin and walking back toward the chairs and couch. She settles on the arm of the couch, still minding the doors and other places of entry but it's relaxed—or at least relaxed appearing. "How you holdin' up, Sir?" she asks.

Amos seems similarly unphased at the idea of there still being a certain degree of constant threat and has his rifle leaning against the side of the chair where it's both out of teh way and within easy reach at the same time. Glancing over towards Kostas as she speaks he considers his answer for a moment before replying with a faint smile, "ask me that again when we have the field secure and Colonel Spree's boys have those birds back in the air." Shifting slightly in his chair so he doesn't have to crane his neck to talk to her there's a faint grimace that crosses his features, but it's gone as quickly as it appears. "They're still reporting sporadic gunfire around the AMARG and some of the outlying buildings, but the Peak's boys seem to have a handle on it so far." Expression shifting to a faintly amused grin he then adds, "for some reason they seem to think we stole all the fun and are trying to catch up."

"We did, didn't we. 'Swhat happens when ya decide t' take the scenic route," Kostas grins. She digs her one of the utility pouches to find another zippered removeable pouch, offering it to him with a questioning lift of the brow. It's got a collection of hard candies in it, from mints to fruity things, probably 'liberated' from god knows where. But probably not altogether uncommon in the ranks, to have a little something that helps get the grit out of your teeth and a little energy without needing to wolf down a whole ration bar. She starts to lift her free hand up to scratch at the back of her neck—but from the wry twist of her lips her arm tells her that's not such a great idea. "How long you think before they send reinforcements, th' toasters?" she asks quietly.

"We might just have done yes Ensign," Amos replies with a faint smile, "but somehow I doubt they'd've thanked us for inviting them to play with those AA batteries. Then I think they'd be comments about leaving too much fun for them." He eyes the pouch a moment then digs out a mint, unwrapping it as he continues, "I believe, that part of what teh air wing was doing a few days ago was to slow that down. A fuel facility or somesuch. In short, I don't know, but some ships were jumping elsewhere as well so likely the canners have a lot to think about at the moment."

"Can't please some sons-a-bitches no matter what ya do," Kostas observes, still with a grin. "Sounds like our jockeys done good too." She takes a slow sip from her canteen. "Anyone seen any of these new types of skinjobs here? The ones that are made from real people?" She asks, a little more somberly. "I read th' reports, but…I guess we don't know too much 'bout 'em yet." She frowns a little in thought, though holds her questions to that.

Amos nods his agreement to that as he finally defeats the wrapper and gains access to the mint inside. "Not yet, or at least no one's saying anything over comms if they have," Amos answers, tilting his head faintly towards his radio to indicate his current source of intel. "With the 33rd and 379th guys still being seen to I doubt we can be certain yet though and as like as not there's still a few of them we haven't found yet as well." There's another slight, almost delicate change of position and he asks, "How about your platoon? They holding up?"

Kostas grunts in respect to not saying such things over the radio, starting to lift her arms up to cross them across her chest, but—apparently deciding maybe she'd rather not do that after all mid-stream. "Wonder how much 'f the civvies been affected, if at all," she says out loud. "If I was them, I'd sneak it in odd places." Something about that seems to disturb her for a moment, one corner of her mouth turning down, but she shakes it off. She holds one hand low, tipping it side to side. "Most 'f us took some fire, but PJ kept us bangin'. Fischer and Mallas went back, they pretty beat down. Rest of us all right tho. Didn't lose nobody this time."

"On Caprica it was generally the arm," Amos replies with a faint frown. "We'd get people to roll their sleeves up so we could check their biceps. Captain Nadir informs me that they can go anywhere though, which is not a happy thought." Sucking on the mint he listens to the platoon report and nods slowly, "not too bad then. Shame we lost the raptor while inbound but theres not a lot we could do about that." A brief moment of quiet and then he adds, "now the about though, don't be afraid to send you lot back for some rest in their own bunks. Rotate 'em out when you can so there's always some fresh."

"Already on it, Sir," Kostas assures Amos about the rotations. "Shit, not a nice setup like that since warday, sending 'em back ta get freshened up. Shame not t' take advantage of it, 'specialy since we not get hit too bad all things considered." She nods. "No, shame they got downed before they had a chance to be boots on the ground. The way it go, sometimes." She eyes his right arm for a long moment. "So when you headin' back for some real rest, Sir? Once we got th' place locked down?"

"We came out of it remarkably better than I had feared we might," Amos admits, "but then we did have a lot of support from above which undoubtly helped." He's not going to take credit for a well planned op, that'd be bad form, but he is content within himself that the prep work paid dividends. As for her query he just gives a gentle nod, "doesn't seem right to leave before it's done. That or the saw-bones find me, but I think they're all busy elsewhere for now."

That gets another flash of a grin spreading across Kostas' face. "Ya put up a good front, Cap'n," she tells him with trenches admiration—though at least she refrains from the usual accompanying shoulder punch. "Think we draw their fire elsewhere 'til you're good'n ready ta go up, neh?" She pushes off from her couch arm, rolling back her shoulders with a slight wince, turning her head to crack her neck a little for some relief. "Gonna go do another round, sir. Let th' next group know they goin' up."

Amos nods his undersanding then offers what he knows to be a largely unnessecary "be careful Ensign." Then, almost as an afterthought he adds with an amused smile, "and if you see any of said saw-bones, I was never here."

Mallas trails in with some stragglers from Dog platoon, grousing loudly to the grunt next to him as he goes. "I mean, are we the only Marines on this rock? We go in first and /we/ gotta go back and mop up? Frak that." Despite his bloody uniform, the private looks a lot better than he did right after the assault. He clearly has the energy to bitch.

Amos is sat in one of the alert room chairs. He's got fresh, bullet-hole-less armour on and his rifle is leaning up against the side of said chair, within easy reach if it's required. Turning his head to look towards the incoming marines as he hears Mallas' voice he smiles faintly and calls over as they get closer, "there's an ongoing engagement over towards AMARG thats keeping a load of the lads from the Peak busy. Feel free to go help 'em out if you want." Before he can get a response though there's the sound of gunfire a lot closer, and not standard marine rifle fire by the sound of it. Not from this building perhaps, be maybe the stores next door. With a frown, and then a wince as he starts to push himself to his feet, he announces to the room, "Gentlemen, I believe that is our cue."

The PJ is bandaged up and some sense of order returned to her appearance, save for patches of dried blood and likely not all her own. Afton watches Amos stand and her brows furrow. "Permission to speak, sir?" She cautions and steps forward to break the ready line of those waiting to follow.

Kostas returns from her own patrol of the Marines in the surround areas. Her head pops up though when she hears the closer gunfire, and she glances towards that direction, then back to Amos, somehow managing a slight quirk of the lips in a smile as well as a furrowing of her brow. "Is, sir…but not f' you. I know you able to hold off plenty even all shot to shit an' all—but we got a bunch of us an' one of you, an' you know it. You wanna stay here, in case we need backup, Cap'n?" It's deferential, but…not really a question.

Mallas gives the Captain a strange look. Was that an order? He's not sure. "Uhhh … if it's all the same to you sir …" he starts to decline. Then the gunfire erupts right next door and Mallas' head jerks around towads the sound. "Awww frak…" Looks like that the Cylons have their own plans for his afternoon. While the officers and the corpsman talk, the grunt hefts his light machinegun and edges up to the wall, peering out a shattered window towards the firing.

Amos looks like he's about to give Afton the affirmatory nod when Kostas reappears and says her piece. He knows she has the right of it but that doesn't mean he has to like it. "Fine, fine," he replies, a little grumpily as he settles back again, then gestures quickly to the radio, "just let me know what's going on." Then, remembering the PJ again he turns back, giving her a faintly apologetic look for having been distracted before answering, "Go ahead."

"I think the Ensign said my part, I think its best you hang back, from a medical point of view, sir. Besides, I hate to have my work go to waste," Afton offers him a faint smile and nods her head. "Its okay, I will keep these two here up and running.." if with a few holes more than likely. Glancing to Mallas, she shoulders her rifle, grabbing at her helmet to drag it onto her head, short blonde hair wrapped in a kerchief of blue. "Ready, sir," she says to Kostas, who is likely to lead them, checking her pouches and making sure they are stocked.

"Hey, don' relax too much Sir, we might need ya t' come save our asses," Kostas tells Amos. She nods once to his order, making sure that she has a corresponding radio ready just in case. She glances to Mallas and Afton, "Look sharp. Let's go find out who knockin' at th' door." She gets her rifle out of its shouldered position, tightens the strap on her helmet, and then starts to move off, cautiously.

Grunts up front. He knows the drill. Mallas works the sling on the LMG over his shoulder, supporting most of the weapon's weight as he braces it at hip level and moves up to the door. He pokes his head out for one quick look, and when nothing tries to shoot him immeidately, he edges up and props his weapon on the door frame, covering the stores building across the road so the others can move up.

Things go quiet as the squad moves out, but once back on ground level it's fairly obvious where the noise was coming from, as the only structure in close proximity and in the right direction is a storage bunker. Not a munitions one thankfully, more a garage for parts for the airfield's many trucks and such. The door hangs slightly open, although not enough to allow admitance with out pushing it further, but it does give a view inside showing that there is reasonable illumination and what looks like stacks of shelves full of mechanical parts of various sizes.

Curling her hand up into the sling of her rifle, Afton's safety is clicked off and she has the butt of it pressed up against her arm as she lazily sights down it, keeping her attention shifting to the right as she takes up that side Kostas, sweeping along with the others as the muzzle of her gun swings back and forth with a precision of one on alert. Slow, quiet and steady steps keep her moving, rolling her weight across the entirely of her foot back to front before taking the next step.

Oh lovely. Door cracked just right, room darkened just so, lots of shelves and shit to cast creepy shadows—she's seen this on vid once! But still, it's part of the fun of being a marine. Her eyes are sharp as she moves carefully to the door, body alert as she holds her weapon. Her eyes scan the outside the building, any windows as well, before she takes up a position to the side of the doorway, out of sight, giving Mallas a hand signal to still cover as she nudges the door very carefully with her foot.

Once the rest of the team is across, Mallas is just getting ready to move up. Then he gets the signal from the new platoon leader. Oh good, he gets to stay put. Looking up and down the gap between the buildings quickly before he sights down on the doorway once more.

Keeping an eye out around them, Afton watches Kostas briefly before turning her attention outward until the moment the door starts to creak open. This brings the PJ about slowly, her back to Kostas slightly, less than a foot between them. She glances to Mallas and lowers down some, leaning to help get a look as the opening becomes wider.

Stores Garage - Crandall
A large, squat concrete building consisting of a main area full of shelves and a smaller back area with a corridor and side rooms.
AWD #265

There does not apear to be any windows, but should the marines require further illumination there is a row of light switches just inside the door. Said door moves slowly as Kostas applies force and there's a faint creaking from teh hinges, although most likely not enough to alert anyone who isn't already close enough to see the movement anyway. The building seems to go back a log way though, and there's side rooms, or possibly corridors head off down the far side. As Afton leans though, there's further sound of gunfire from that direction, although with the bare walls echoing the sound it's hard to get a good fix on where before it stops again.

<FS3> Mallas rolls Alertness: Great Success.
<FS3> Mallas rolls Stealth: Succes
<FS3> Kostas rolls Alertness: Great Success.
<FS3> Kostas rolls Stealth: Great Success.
<FS3> Afton rolls Alertness: Great Success.
<FS3> Afton rolls Stealth: Failure.

Kostas looks up to Mallas, giving the signal to move down. With Afton watching the surrounding area, Kostas moves to ease into the building, her footing careful and eyes seeking out cover. She takes up a ready position, gun towards the general direction of the sound as sweeps and covers the room so that Afton and Mallas can move up.

When the officer signals, Mallas mutters a quick "Frak." Lifting his weapon, he sucks a breath and dashes across the gap between the buildings. Bumping against the concrete right next to the storage bunker door, he peers inside, then ducks through and crouches down, lifting the LMG to cover the nearest set of interior doors.

Pushing up, Afton gives Kostas about four feet before she enters, turning back to make sure there is nothing taking their rear briefly before hugging the wall. She taps Kostas briefly, coming up quickly to motion to the light switches briefly - though they likely do not work. In the event, she steps on an old plastic bottle, the krinkling not helping anything and filling the void between the shots fired ahead.

<FS3> Cent-1 rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Cent-2 rolls Alertness: Great Success.

The store room they've entered looks relatively undisturbed, the part are still on the shelves and peering though the gaps there certainly doesn't seem to be any immediate sign of centurions. There is however, what appears to be a patch of sunlight towards the far end which on closer inspection appears to be a larger garage-type entrance where vehicles can load and unload. This is open up to just above the height of a centurion and there are scuff marks in the dirt around it. Doubtless there's information to be learnt from those marks, but perhaps more pressingly there's now distinctly mechanical sounds heading towards them from the corridor closest to the open door.

It's a deceptively short time before two centurians are rounding a bend in the hallway and coming into view. One appears to be scanning the area in general, but the other is has focused it's attention firmly on Afton's vacinity and aims it's gun appropriately.

Kostas glances up as Afton taps her shoulder, eyes moving briefly towards the indicated switches—but as that plastic crinkle echoes in the silence her weapon swings towards the mechanical sounds. The small group doesn't need bellowed orders, and so she doesn't say a word, relying on her teammates to do their professional thing as she looks down the sight of her rifle, ready to fine at the first unfriendly that shows.

Her lips move to form the silent curse she doesn't give actual voice to. The tromp of mechanical feet draw her rifle up and Afton takes aim, lowering down so she can focus her attentions on the first reflective surface. The PJ aims down her rifle, waiting to pull back on a trained burst. She exhales, before pulling her trigger.

The only good thing about the Canners? You can usually hear them coming. Mallas raises his weapon to his shoulder and aims it at the corner down the hall. There's a flash of silver in his sights and he steadies down, sucks in deep breath, and squeezes the trigger…

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Cent-1 attacks Afton with Lmg - Serious wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Cent-2 attacks Mallas with Lmg - Moderate wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Mallas fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-1 with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-1 with Lmg Ap - Moderate wound to Left Arm (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-1 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-1 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-1 with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Head stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Left Leg stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Kostas fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Afton fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Afton attacks Cent-1 with Rifle AP - Light wound to Left Hand (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Afton attacks Cent-1 with Rifle AP and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Afton attacks Cent-1 with Rifle AP and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Amos has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Cent-1 has been KO'd!

The openning exchange of gunfire is brutal with the centurions attempting to lay waste to the marines they detect. Shelves and crates get in teh way of some of the bullets, but the room is certainly one that it's not be hugely healthy to take a stroll though right now. The marines keep their end up as well though, with both the metal monsters taking hits. One seems unbothered but the other goes down, only to be replaced by another rounding the corner and stepping over it's fallen colleage.

After she fires, and moves into cover postion, the gunfire echoing overhead, Kostas activates her radio. "Team one to base, we got some live ones in the shed." She waits for an opportune moment, popping out from behind her rack of shelves just enough to send a burst towards the same canner that she targed before.

Nothing like a sudden encounter, at close range, inside an enclosed concrete bunker to make your day. Mallas' LMG roars, spent brass clattering across the floor, as he sweeps the two Centurions that appear in front of them. But an incoming round smacks him hard in the gut, and the private flops over on his side. Gasping for breath, he instinctively roll to the steel shelves, getting some cover before he fires again.

Now she curses loudly as the shot hits close to her old wound and causes her to lose her footing and end on her rear. The blood starts to bubble out and as Afton finds it a tad hard to breathe. Gritting her teeth, she presses her hand to the wound and takes careful aim again, ignoring the pain for now in favor of aiming down her rifle to get the last centurion - hopefully last.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Cent-3 fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Cent-3 attacks Kostas with Lmg - Moderate wound to Neck (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Cent-3 attacks Kostas with Lmg and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cent-3 attacks Kostas with Lmg and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cent-2 attacks Mallas with Lmg - COVER stops the attack.
<COMBAT> Mallas fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap - Moderate wound to Right Hand (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap - Serious wound to Abdomen (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Kostas fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap - Light wound to Right Arm (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Afton fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Afton attacks Cent-2 with Rifle AP but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Afton attacks Cent-2 with Rifle AP - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Afton attacks Cent-2 with Rifle AP - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Amos has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

"Patch it, PJ!" Kostas unnecessarily barks at Afton as the other woman goes down, though she is used to hardheaded marines, and it's second nature to call out orders. "We only got one of you too!" She curses as a bullet opens up a gash along her neck, deflected by her armor away from the jugular at least. She pops up from her position just enough to return fire at the same canner that she's been pinging at thus far.

The conturions continue to advance, spraying hot lead towards the marines with every big, heavy, clunking step they take. Their progress may not be quick, but it's determined and despite both taking hits from the marine's fire, both remain upright and advancing.
Kostas' radio crackles into life, just after a burst of fire stops. "Copy Team One. Do you require backup or is the situation in hand?"

Afton does not need to be told twice, struggling to breathe before she addresses the compounde wound in her chest. She narrows her eyes and then glances to Mallas. She begins to head for him after seeing to her wounds. Gauze is pressed to the fresh opening as she moves for cover with the marine. Again, forgoing her gun to see to the wounds of those around her, she secures the bandage to help staunch the blood flow.

The Centurions relentless advance, right into the teeth of all the fire they can dish out, is clearly getting to Mallas. Gods, they're RIGHT THERE in front of them. It's going to be hand to hand, and they're going to die. And without thinking about it, he's on his feet, screaming at the top of his lungs as he advances right at the centurions, finger clamped down on the trigger. "Ares take you mother frakkers!"

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Cent-3 fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Cent-3 attacks Kostas with Lmg and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cent-3 attacks Kostas with Lmg and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cent-3 attacks Kostas with Lmg and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cent-2 fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Cent-2 attacks Mallas with Lmg and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cent-2 attacks Mallas with Lmg - Moderate wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Cent-2 attacks Mallas with Lmg and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas fires fullauto!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap - Moderate wound to Head (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-2 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap - Light wound to Chest (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Mallas attacks Cent-3 with Lmg Ap - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Kostas fires a 3 round burst!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Kostas attacks Cent-2 with Rifle Ap - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Afton treats Afton:
< Chest (Serious): successful
<COMBAT> Amos has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Cent-2 has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Cent-3 has been KO'd!

It would seem, perhaps, that the Gods favour Mallas today, that or he's just a lucky fraker for both of the remaining centurions fall before his onslaught. There's a loud clatter and thud as their metalic bodies hit the concrete floor but once they land there is no more sign of movement from them.

Mallas is still firing, still screaming wordlessly as he hoses down the fallen Centurions. It's a few seconds before his finger eases off the trigger, and there is silence again. Then he wordlessly takes a knee, panting and staring at the fallen cents.

"You are just a magnet," she intones as she goes for the wound at his abdomen first, making a face. "You look like shit.." Afton's bedside manner is not in the best of shape today, not in the slightest. She continues to address the openings as he takes a time to himself. "Probably should see about getting you back up to the Orion soon…I can't do anything permanent, this is not going to address the entirety of your problem," she admits and presses a gauze to his chest. "Hold this."

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Mallas tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Kostas tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Afton treats Mallas:
< Abdomen (Moderate): successful
< Chest (Moderate): successful
<COMBAT> Amos has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

"Think we okay, but 'f you got back up other'n that crazy Cap'n, won't say no." Kostas replies on the radio, after Mallas' continued mowing. "Cleared the initial room, but could be hidin' places." She looks over both Afton and Mallas, speculatively, brow furrowed, and then looks out over the room beyond, before her dark eyes fall on the private. "Engage your fuckin' BRAIN, Private. Take a sit." She eyes Afton. "You done good, PJ. Think they cleared, but should prolly make sure. You ok?"

Mallas sucks in a sharp breath as the pain starts to register. "Ow! That hurt," he complains to Afton, but it's half-hearted at best. And by the time she's finished he manages a "Thanks." Setting his weapon down, Mallas does as he's told, slumping down and pressing a hand over the bandage on his chest. "Aye aye, sir." He has no problem obeying orders to take a rest, even when he's not all shot up.

A nod is given to Kostas as she manages to get cloth wrapped around Mallas abdomen does the same for his chest. "As best I can be, just a little trouble breathing but I think its just pressure," Afton manages a faint smile and then glances up to Mallas and then gives his arm a squeeze and a nod. "Once we secure the area I have morpha," she promises, wincing as she pushes herself up and moves to Kostas. "They were going for the kill with you, sir..let me get this stopped," gauze and cloth is brought out again as she wipes and cleans the wound before attempting to bandage it. A smirk is still offered at Mallas, glad to see him sit and giving an approving nod.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Mallas tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Kostas tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Afton treats Kostas:
< Neck (Moderate): successful
<COMBAT> Amos has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

Kostas allows some rest, though her ears are perked for any sign of further movement, allowing Afton to do her work without flinch of protest, despite the burn of the antiseptic. "All right. Gonna take a look around. I'll go first, you cover me then move up on my signal. Think we okay in this room, but we need ta see what's out there—" she nods towards the opening in the back, centurion high, "An' what's down suprise chute numb'r 2." She indicates the corridor that the Centurions came down with a lift of her chin. "We on?"

The marines have no trouble moving towards the open door at the rear, there are a few shelves that have ha their contents distured in the fire fight but nothing that actively blocks their way. There appears to be nothing immediately outside, but the scuff marks do seem to be heading inwards. They're centurion by the size of them, looks like a small group.

Four might be a small group. Or part of a small group. Kostas presses her lips together, half smirk, half look of dismay. As there doesn't seem to be any hiding in the room—she looks towards the corridor. "Looks like we just got that part to clear," she mutters. She looks back at the door again, pondering. "Well, shit. Don't like the thought of leavin' our ass uncovered either way." The door looks a little risky to close outright though. "Private, look sharp, gonna move some shit to be in the way, hopefully means we hear 'em before they come." And while Mallas covers her, hopefully, she'll move some crates and bottles and other stuff to scatter in the open garage doorway. Alarm, old school style. Probably not too effective, but…worth a shot maybe.

When he's ordered to move, Mallas grumbles his way back to his feet, taking a second to reload his weapon and work the action, getting ready for more firing. He follows the Dog platoon leader across to the garage bay doors, doing the 'cover and move' drill without prompting. When Kostas spells out her plan, Mallas gives a nod and turns around, going prone and propping his LMG on the bipod, covering the corridor back the way they came.

Once the ghetto alarm system is spiffed up and ready as it's gonna be, Kostas nods to Mallas. "I'll go ahead while you cover. Stay quiet as we can. An' ya know if even if we see folks like us we gotta assume they jacks until proven otherwise. Mind the fire." Her instructions are utter quietly, and then she is creeping towards the corridor, eyes wary, weapon at the ready.

<FS3> Mallas rolls Alertness: Great Success.
<FS3> Kostas rolls Alertness: Good Success.

Mallas nods to his C.O. and lets her move out first, then he rises up to follow. With a wince of pain, he re-slings his automatic weapon, hanging it from his shoulder and bracing the butt against his hip. He moves up to her position and halts, weapon up to cover he next move.

Stepping past, round or over the fallen Centurions, the marines progress down the corridor. It's not that long, then it bends at right angles to the left. Glancing up this new section there is nothing cylon shaped to be seen, nor huan for that matter, although one of the doors to a smaller room off to the left, and indeed, the wal along side it, do seem to have taken the brunt of a hail of gunfire. Or three separate hails perhaps. As all this becomes apparent, Kostas' radio crackles again and a familiar, if somewhat disgruntled sounding voice can be heard. "Team One, Alert Room. Your crazy Cap'n just got rumbled. See you back on Orion."

"Have fun, Sir. Don't give 'em too much guff, now," is Kostas' quick response. Her eyes narrow at the door that took the gunfire though, and at any others in the corridor. Signs of resistance? Kostas looks to Mallas. "We movin' in 7," she tells him, nodding towards the door. She takes a chance, raising her voice. "Colonial Marines, clearin' your location in 10 seconds, unless you speak up NOW."

Mallas takes position at the dog-leg, leaning around the corner and covering the obvious door. He gives Kostas a questioning look when he sees all the damage from small arms fire that's hit that door. Guess they found where the initial firing was happening. He gives a quick nod of his helmeted head when he hears the officer's orders, shifting his stance so he's ready to move.

There's no further response on the radio, nor indeed from anywhere along the corridor. Unless, perhaps.. maybe there's a faint gibbering from inside the room, or i might just be a weird echo of their movements in the otherwise silent corridor. Hard to say.

"1…2…3…4…5….6…TEN!" Kostas shouts as she pulls the pin on her grenade, ripping open the door on 10, and tossing it in. Immediately she rushes in, drawing her weapon, and scanning the room. "Hands off your weapons where I can see 'em now!!" she's shouting, even as she's looking around to see if there is in fact anyone even there.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Survivor1 passes.
<COMBAT> Mallas passes.
<COMBAT> Kostas uses a Handgrenade Flash!
<COMBAT>
<COMBAT> EXPLOSION! Close To Survivor1 - Light Stun wound to Head.
<COMBAT> Amos has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Survivor1 has been KO'd!

Mallas watches closely as Kostas goes for the flashbang. Right. He knows the clearing drill. Poised to move as soon as the grenade goes off, he follows Kostas through the door and pivots left, covering his half of the room, finger poised on the trigger.

If it had been gibbering in the room before, there's certainly none now, even when the ringing from teh flashbang fades. Infront of the marines is what appears to be a hastily errected attempt at a barricade, and behind it, the unconcious and bloody form of a human in dirty and batter fleet greens. The kind that look like they might have been worn, constantly, for many months. They're breathing, but it looks like a couple of cylon rounds clipped them.

Kostas radios in to company command. "CP, unit one, found a survivor. Unsure of enemy status, but they wearin' a fleet uniform. Securing and bringing back to base ASAP—requesting medic." And then she's bending down to pat down down the survivor as quickly as possible, making sure they don't have any obvious weapons, tying their hands together, and their feet. "Let's clear th' rest, Private. On th' double. Need ta get this poor guy back."

Mallas's barrel sweeps back and forth, trying to find something to shoot. But there's nothing. "Clear," he calls out, letting Kostas know. He sounds almost disappointed. Mallas turns to look over the rest of the room, and catches sight of the survivor on the ground. He stares at the ragged, unconscious person, then looks up when Kostas goes to work. He takes his LMG to the doorway, covering the hall while she secures the 'prisoner'. And while he's none to excited about clearing the whole rest of this bunker, orders are orders.

With the man secure, the pat down reveals a couple of things that could be used as imporvised weapons, but it looks mostly like things he's grabbed in this very room, and certainly there's nothing more threatening than a metal rule. The radio call is acknowledged by ops and by the time they've swept the rest of the bunker there are corpsmen and escort arriving to clear up.

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