AWD #347: Cargo Call
Cargo Call
Summary: The good doctor comes to pay the Iron Pilgrim a visit, while the Marines work frantically to get all the hard work done.
Date: 3 JUne 2016
Related Logs: All Iron Pilgrim Logs
Lleufer Samtara Halena 
The Iron Pilgrim Cargo Bay
While light cargo ships such as this have a series of bays for moving freight and men, this particular bay is the largest. It is currently undergoing a retrofit. All unnecessary materials have been stripped, and the space is instead littered with men and tools. Scaffolds have been set up, allowing workers to access the high walls and ceilings. Most appear to be busily drilling and welding to cover the space with blast-resistant paneling. However, the most remarkable piece of work is happening along the starboard side of the bay — a new wall is being erected, with large cargo doors to allow access between the larger space and the smaller one. Theres not too much work going on in the smaller space, just now, save for the building of that partition.
AWD #347

Twelve hours or so to go before some nice officer from on high will come down to inspect the Pilgrim, to make sure it's ready to hold its cargo. But, despite the exhausted franticness of all those in jumpsuites crawling around the bay like ants, it's … actually something. The partition wall, fully framed, is also mostly plaquered over with the blast-resistant panels. All of the rest of the hull is completed, save for some areas left open and gaping for other work being done within the guts of the thing. The woman in charge, Halena Tremaine, is standing near the nose of the cargo bay now, where tethers and cables are being cinched into place to be used to hold whatever specimines are needed here and close. She looks tired, more pale than usual (which is saying something) and now she keeps almost all her weight off her right let to the point where she looks like she might start standing like a flamengo at any moment. She has her arms folded, and is overseeing a discussion between some deckies on how best to attach this bit or that.

Lleufer is here amid the chaos that is somehow resolving itself into work getting done. The MP is in regular greens and being of no particular use in skills needful to do construction, he's been lending a hand with whatever labour has been needed. That has mostly entailed carrying heavy things around. For hours now, and for the past couple of days. The Marine finally takes a seat on a crate for a breather and some water as he watches the activity going on around him.

Carrying with her two mugs of coffee, carefully contained in travel containers to prevent spillage, leakage or loss of ambient heat, Dr. Nadir carefully navigates through the deckies and technicians, sharing a nod with Ynyr as she makes a successful transit and waits for a lull in the conversation (aka potential debate) before offering one of the cups to Halena. "Fresh coffee," she notes as she extends the cup forward.

That lull in the conversation comes when Halena decides to just turn away. The deckies will argue themselves hoarse, and only then will they know who the winner is. For now, she turns to see Lleufer nearby and her face relaxes into warm professionalism at the sight of the man. "I do hope Major Fairfax won't be making you marines run PT after I've put you through the wringer," she says, not unkindly. But then there's coffee, and Halena is too tired to not look relieved to see it. "Doctor Nadir. I wasn't expecting you. This is very gracious, thank you. Please don't mind me if I sit a moment…" and she moves to do just that, her face finally relaxing that last little bit as the remaining pressure on her right leg is removed. She sips.

The water bottle is capped. Lley gives Samtara a nod in return and a hint of his half smile as the doctor goes on past. It's Halena's words that gets him back on his feet, "No, Major won't do that. But Captain Omman-ney proba-bly will. We've been on all sorts of training lately. Endurance, hand to hand, etc." He's a little tired himself so Ynyr speaks carefully so not to slur his words much. He'll gladly pat the crate he's just left to get Halena to take a seat, "You're the one who's look'n wiped out, Captain." Having sat a bit himself, his left left has stiffened up and makes him limp a little when he goes over to throw his empty water bottle into the recycling cart. His limp the Sergeant will walk off in a moment or two of resumed activity, unlike Helana's.

"how did you damage your leg?" Sam wonders as she moves with Halena until seeing that she is seated and taking weight off of her right leg. "And I have to confess, i'd intended to come here earlier but paperwork breeds at an insane rate," said in a rather wry tone of voice before she aims a smile at Ynyr. "I've seen a notable uptick in the bruises, minor injuries and muscle strain reports, none of which ever seem to keep you Marines actually down and out for the count."

Halena does take the seat offered by the tap, and stretches her sore leg out in front of her. She seems to be fine in motion, but all the standing around? That's what does her in. "It's very good of you to volunteer, insofar as you did, for additional duties outside your forte even with your training schedule, Sergeant. It is appreciated." She lets out a little hmm, a sound that could almost be a hint of a chuckle. Almost. "Me? Well if it is true that there's no rest for the wicked, I must be a might bit…a mighty wicked so-and-so." So tired she almost swore! "Just twelve more hours, and then a handover, and then some rest." She sips her coffee again, hazel eyes flitting to the good Doctor nearby. "This? I had the silly notion that standing under a structurally unsound office building was a wise life choice." She turns her eyes away, noting Lleufer's own limp and then glancing down at her coffee. "I don't know about you, Doctor, but I know I was grateful when the order came down that the re-evaluation of inprocessing paperwork for new transfers to the Orion was no longer necessary. As you say, there's enough work to go around as it is."

Lleufer comes back from tossing out his empty bottle, "Better not, or they aren't Marines." That's his opinion on that topic and Samtara won't be surprised.. If you aren't dying, you keep going until you get orders you can rest. Suck it up in silence until then. Ynyr gives Halena a smile, "Pleasure to be useful, Captain."

Then he's tugging his gloves back on as Lleu looks back to the other Marine he'd been working with, "You ready? He gets a nod. There's thick, heavy sheets of metal to be loaded and moved to the other side of the bay so he and the Lance Corporal get back to work on that. It takes both of them, one on each side to lift the thick plates and put them on the flat bed of the loader. It's hard, muscular work and though Ynyr has to compensate for his weaker left side, he's being careful.

"Ahh. Well. Fore knowledge that the structure was unsound would potentially have been nice. That is, it has been my experience that warning labels are usually not placed in clear view for this sort of thing. Just like crazy people don't come with warning labels tattooed on their foreheads, though wouldn't that be nice. And unstable ground isn't often labeled as such, let alone 'impending collapse in T-minus three minutes and counting, minimum safe distance cannot be achieved in under four minutes, to bad'," she notes with a glimpse of a smile before angling a nod at Ynyr. "I know. Which serves to remind me, frequently, that I'm glad that I'm not cut out to be a marine."

"As am I. I enjoy target practice well enough, but sometimes there are lines to be drawn for comfort. That ideology alone disqualifies me, from what I understand," Halena says with that same ghost of a smile upon her features. She watches Lleufer go back to work but then, rather than to stare, she turns her eyes to the good Doctor once again. "In the defense of the architect and engineers, I will say that the building was most likely exceptionally stable until it was bombed." She glances down a moment, that ghost of a smile fading into the mists of contenence just as it came. But enough of that! Hazel eyes to the doctor again. "While I do appreciate the coffee, Doctor, I do hope you didn't come all this way to assist me in my quest for sleep deprevation."

The Captains get a grin out of the two Marines. Ynyr and the Lance get all of the heavy deck plates muscled up onto the loader, then the Lance hops into the seat to drive. Lleu hops up onto the now strapped down plates and sets his ass down for the ride over to the other end of the bay for unloading while the two Captains speak low.

"While sharing caffeine and assisting with sleep deprivation are, indeed, acceptable goals on any given day," Samtara shares another of those almost smiles, "no. I know something about life support, what the minimum safe tolerance levels are, what the maximum requirements are by scale and per pound of the subject contained there in based on the rate of respiration and the atmosphere mix being circulated. I thought perhaps I could lend a hand." She glances then toward Ynyr and the other marine man handling the heavy deck plates around, "Unless you already have that sorted, of course."

"To be honest, I really couldn't say," Halena admits, sipping her coffee once again. "Shackleton is a life support technician, and he's been leading that aspect of the project. Right now our current intention is not to alter the life support systems in any way, but merely run controls to be able to contain this section away from the systems until further notice. My concern is that we bring an unknown object in here and it contaminates our life support systems in some way we were unable to anticipate." She flits her eyes to Lleufer and his friend again and she sighs. "The origional intent was to have a complete seperate life support system, in which case I daresay your expertise would be absolutely required. But until we have the specimine on board and have declared it to be safe, work on that is currently haulted."

Across the bay the pair of Marines get directions on where to park the heavy deck plating but not to unload it. So after a couple of minutes of conferring and finding out what else needs to be done, they both start walking back across the now divided space. The Lance and Ynyr each go to opposite sides of a crate and get themselves down as low as they can to grip it and lift it up from the floor. The Sergeant has a little harder time of it with his left leg but he manages and they start carrying it slowly across. Over there, they need to break it open and start unpacking the boxes within. Heavy steel bolts, nuts, welding supplies and more.

Cradling her travel mug of coffee between her hands, Sam studies Halena for a long, quiet, moment then notes: "Has the room been rigged to do emergency vent of atmosphere? As a fail safe. Not just having the atmosphere sucked from the room and cycled through the ship. But vented into space, as a precaution? And all access ports to any electrical conduit of any kind has been not just re-routed but the ports either removed or welded against even brute force attempt at access?" she to turns to glance over at the marines and the deck crew working on this project. She gives a mild twitch, not glancing away from the work in progress as she wonders, "This thing that will be housed here, has it been housed elsewhere before or will this be the first attempt?"

Halena watches the marines at work. Perhaps there is something of a girlishness in her, some pleasure found in watching big sweaty men do big sweaty things. Perhaps she relaxes when she's not working by seeing work done, knowing some accomplishment is at least being made. Or something else, who knows. "Yes," Halena says without much consideration — it's an easy answer. "The only thing that will be in this room, for now, are the trap mechanisms to keep any specimines in place during flight or other unexpected turbulance. But they can be removed by a switch, and the room vented entirely on a trip. These panels," she gestures to the new black panels that make up most of the walls, jsut now. "Should take the pain. I say should because there's no time to test. But even then, the cargo bay can easily be sealed off." She looks back to the Doctor, shaking her head. "I cannot say, to be honest, but if I had to guess I'd say this is the first attempt."

There are a lot of Marines intermixed in the cargo bay now that Fairfax has sent them in shifts to assist. They mostly work in pairs, doing the heaviest lifting and moving of supplies, or helping to clear things out of the way as the work progresses. Some of them are taking down scaffolding. Another is sweeping debris up off of the floor, bits of metal, solder, dropped packaging. A very young looking woman in Marine fatigues is restocking cases of water bottles in a cart. Lleufer and the Lance eventually come back across. Yynr snags a water bottle from the young woman and gives her his thanks before he tosses it to his teammate, "Hey, Lance. Think fast!" The Lance grins and makes like it's a sports pass and he /must/ intercept! Ooh, fumble! Lleufer mock scowls, "Dude, drop and give me fifty. You embarass us." So, the Lance drops and starts pumping out pushups, tags tingling the deck. Ynyr goes to check crates.

"Are you certain that the specimen actually requires an environment to function?" is wondered in that same quiet voice without taking her eyes off of the work in progress. "What is the initial plan if the specimen does not, actually, require a favorable atmospheric mix in order to retain consciousness and, instead, operates either without it Or has been shaped in such a way that it's potential atmospheric maintenance is internally routed without requiring external support?" Sam shakes her head as the water bottle is not just fumbled but tipped off so that it goes rebounding back toward the marine stacking them in the first place. BOING.

Halena shakes her head. "No — and that's the point. This room, when fully completed, should be capable of handling all those scenarios and more. This room should be the place where we take the unknowns. And it will be. Just … sooner than I anticipated." As Lleufer comes around to check crates, Halena starts to rise, pushing to her feet and favoring her good leg, though not as much. "Am I in the way?" she asks, and while she waits for an answer she turns to the doctor, folding her arms. "For now, we do know that there's no power and no life, and this item exists in the vaccume of space. So this place will remain the vaccume in space and the specimine will be checked by our experts in EVA gear. Once it is deemed safe, we'll reactivate life support and allow everyone the freedom of movement we all desire when we're trapped in an EVA bubble."

The Private, she and a few of the other Marines think it's funny. Somebody swipes the fumbled water bottle for themselves, makes a few wise cracks at the Lance's expense. But as soon as he's cracked out 50 perfect pushups, he hops back up onto his boots and jogs to catch up with Ynyr, "Come on, Sarge. You seriously need to come down and play Pyramid with us later. Promise, none of us will elbow you in the nogg'n too much." Lleu laughs, "Promises, promises. Maybe. Hey, grab that pry bar." The Sergeant glances back to the Captains, "No, not in the way. We'll do these two first before we need to check those." The pry bar is brought and a crate that isn't marked clearly is opened, it's contents then checked against a Deckie's clipboard to see where it needs to be shifted, or to be left.

"I suppose using a salvage pen with composite carbon webbing in a vacuum cube is considered to extreme," Sam notes with a wry trace of a grin. "Personally, I don't mind EVA gear; it's very similar to Hazmat gear and there are few things more reassuring than the absolute bio-hazard protocol to be found in hazmat gear." This said with a mild shrug, "We all have issues." Sam makes a quiet hum of sound, "I wonder how it would respond to total immersion in water, fresh or salt," she admits with a sidelong smile aimed at Halena. "That doesn't help, I know. But you have piqued my curiosity."

Halena nods to Lleufer, moving to sit back down. Once settled, she smiles a touch to the doctor. "You're more than welcome to swing through to Intel to ask them about it and propse your ideas. I prefer to be in the need-to-know category. Actually I must admit, this assignment — rush aside — has been very comforting. There's no particular goal I need to meet, no particular milestones I need to hit. Prepare for everything and nothing. Odd, but it's comforting." She glances upward at a flickering light as the workers test the auxilary power cables. Then she looks back to the doctor. "You're more than welcome to keep your EVA and your HAZMAT, thank you much. I like being able to squeeze in tight places, have my freedom of movement. No room for bulky EVA in the engine room."

The destination of the two crates is sorted out and the Deck directs the Marines as to that end. Ynyr listens, then frowns, "These are too heavy to move. Let's go find another sled to load'm up." He and the Lance go off to do just that as the activity continues around both of the Captains. There's plenty of noise, air wrenches, arc welding, booms and bangs of various things moved or dropped. Such is progress.

"I like how quiet and clean it is inside a hazmat suit," Sam explains with another shrug followed by another thoughtful hum of sound. "I have long made a practice of not bugging Intel until they've decided that they want my input on something. It's never entirely prudent to start asking questions. Sometimes that gimlet eyed stare of 'who have you been expressing these ideas to' gets a little . ." she frowns and muses. "You know when the hair on the back of your neck stands up, that sort of visceral 'oh crap' sensation that isn't always logical? The intel people tend to make me cautious like that."

"Ah, yes. I do believe I know the sensation quite well. Though I don't necessarly get it from Intel staff so much as … quiet places. Dark places. Things of this nature." She glances away for a thoughtful moment. "Really their anger is only that some great secret may have escaped one of them. Most of us are too careless with such secrets, they're too day-to-day. Intel must make up for that by being to close with theirs. We're all necessary in the scheme of things, even if one makes the other nervous."

"That's both logical and reasonable," Sam uncaps her mug of coffee and takes a measured sip of the contents, a mild frown still on her face. "I'm so accustomed to the standard of doctor patient confidentiality and the rigorous standards for patient privacy and data protection that it stumbles me a bit to think that I'm not trust worthy," she exhales a quiet laugh. "But. I understand things that make people nervous. Or off balance."

Halena purses her lips, shaking her head. "I don't think it's about untrustworthyness. If I remember all my security briefings correctly, it's more that the more widely avaialble information is, the more likely someone is to overhear, or attain that information. You have procedures in place for patient confidentiality, but what about for military secrets? Those must be handled a different way. And like your patient documents you wouldn't show them to just anyone — an Intel officer, for example. Not without good reason." The redhead reaches up, drawing a hand across her brow and smearing sweat and grit. "Were you not in the military previously?"

"Prior to the onset of actual war time hostilities, I had almost no interaction with the intel division, there was almost no reason aside from the various security levels required to treat certain flag officers. it wasn't as though the average naval medical officer sits down in a room with someone form Intel," Sam replies with a shake of her head. "I'm a surgeon, not a nuclear physicist or a weapons developer or a bio warfare researcher."

"Hmm, I daresay that's true. Malcolm … my husband. He was a physician as well. I cannot quite recall a single time he'd ever had such a meeting as you describe." Halena sits back a moment, letting out a little, thoughtful sigh through her nose at some thought or other. Perhaps relating to the husband, but who can say. "You are now, though. A weapons developer, bio warfare researcher, really anything that touches the organic world is now your speciality. Isn't it?"

"Yes," Sam takes another drink from the mug before sealing it again with a twist of the lid. She taps her fingertips against the side of the mug as she moves her shoulders subtly, dismissing the tension that tries to spread from the back of her neck to her shoulders and beyond. "My operational handling and parameters has expanded greatly to encompass any facet of medical tasking. Ironically, before the start of the war there were very few times when I actually had to interact with patients on a face to face basis other than a pre-surgery consult, surgery itself then post-op consult before the case was handed back off to a resident. I haven't spent this much time, hands on, face to face, with awake and talking and frequently argumentative patients since my own residency. I'm beginning to miss the days when all my patients were properly draped and sedated before I had to spend long spans of time with them," this last part said with a half curve of a smile and a mild shake of her head.

"Oh, I daresay you must miss such days very much indeed. I can't think of a person aborad I've yet met who wouldn't try to argue with you, and that doesn't surprise me." The redhead chuckles lightly at that. "I wonder, have you and your team started looking into training additional nurses at all? I imagine there's plenty of people you can pull from to have nurse duty. I don't know how overwealmed you are, but vital education such as medical knowledge … really shouldn't go unshared."

"The urge to combine duct tape and sedatives to some patients gets nearly overwhelming at times," Sam admits with a sudden laugh! "And both yes and no. We have a somewhat irregular influx of medical personnel from the civilian population that we are encountering. But there are stringent security protocols already in place that make it difficult to just absorb a non military physician into our ranks without serious vetting. And at this late in the game, where to even begin to start such a process. It would be far easier to take someone already in one of the existing branches and re-train instead of starting from outside and working inward."

Halena nods once more. "My whole family is military, so I suppose I don't really think much about integration procedures." Halena sighs, finishing her coffee and setting iat aside. She moves to rise, favoring her good leg over her bad, but no longer nearly so much as she had earlier. She really just needed some time off it, it seems. "Thank you for coming by, Doctor. And I do encourage you to speak with Shackleton at your earliest convenience. FOr now, we have just over ten hours to finish getting prepped and to run what tests we can. I hope you'll excuse me."

"Of course," Sam replies as she watches Halena rise to her feet again, carefully observing the way the engineer centers then adjusts her balance accordingly. "You'll stop by sickbay and let me take a look at your leg once this is all set," she makes it sound like an invitation but also like a request at the same time while allowing a measure of genuine worry to carry through her tone of voice. Without pushing the issue she moves on with a nod, "I'll speak with Shackleton as soon as he has a free moment."

"As time allows, certainly." Yes, Sam may make her reqeusts-not-requests, but so too can Halena make her accepts-not-accepts. "Do watch your step as you move through, things are a bit harried. And thank you once again for the coffee, Doctor. It has been a much appreciated boost for my final hours." With that, Halena turns and begins to move through the large bay to continue her work.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License