AWD #187: Checklists
Checklists
Summary: One raptor, two checklists
Date: 12/July/2013
Related Logs: None.
Bennett Toby 
Hangar Bay, Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Each hangar deck is divided into five one-hundred yard sections, each divided from the others by massive blast doors that close vertically from the floor and overhead. Each hangar section houses all of the Vipers, Raptors, and Predators that the wing operates as well as the vital work areas to support and maintain these fighting platforms. Each bay is large enough to accommodate one of these frames and still get heavy work done, though the fore- and aft-most sections are dedicated to overhauls and major work to be done. The bays along the center section are located across from launch tubes and elevators in order to provide scramble and Alert-Five capabilities. The second-to-aft bay provides major elevator and transport access to the starboard bay as well as the major manufacturing facility. Due to the nature of the work, the hangar decks are major hubs of activity at all hours of the day and all but four hours overnight.
AWD #187

Judging by the level of noise in the 'bay, a patrol has just returned. A pair of typically boisterous viper pilots are deboarding and commiserating about some 'sick moves' they were pulling in atmo. The raptor's crew, on the other hand, is talking shore leave— or the lack thereof. The ECO presently waves and departs, and the driver, a tall and dark-haired captain, apparently has volunteered to complete the post-flight checklist. Helmet off and resting on the copilot's seat beside her, Bennett checks pressure gauges and temperature readouts in between scrawling notes on her clipboard.

Toby has spent most of his shift so far running down a lift of Raptors, checking that all the fire-fighting equipment onboard is in place and properly serviced. Of course, he'd got part way down the list and found a Raptor out, but now it's back on deck he heads that way, not liking the gap in his precious, precious list. "Afternoon Captain," he offers with a brief nod as he approaches, pencil behind one ear and clipboard in hand, "won't take a moment."

Bennett looks up from her own list, blue eyes alighting upon the somewhat familiar technician with a distracted expression that says her mind's a million miles away. When he addresses her, she blinks owlishly and then curves a quick smile. "Please, take your time." She gestures vaguely with a still-gloved hand, indicating the raptor and its slowly cooling engines. And then, back to her checklist. Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Toby gives Bennett an acknowledging nod as she replies, then completes the quick inspection of the outside. All seems well and he notes that then ducks inside to continue the checks. A panel is removed from above the ECO's console and the state of the extinguisher behind it is check and noted before it's replaced. A couple of other locations are similarly checked and then he's up to the cockpit, "'scuse me," he offers looking faintly apologetically, just need to check under the seats."

Bennett doesn't seem at all bothered by the deckie poking around her bus. It's a common enough occurrence, and she seems rather absorbed in her own task at the moment. The hatch release lever is given a little wiggle, and some notes made in her mostly-legible lefthanded scrawl. "Oh. Oh, sure." She has to clamber half across him to get out of his way, and collects her helmet enroute. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure we've officially met. I'm Captain St. Clair." She doesn't offer her hand; they're both otherwise occupied.

"Crewman Shackleton," Toby replies as she squeezes his way into a position where he can see what he needs to. There's not a huge amount of space and he's far from the smallest on desk, but he manages with only minimal contortionism. The clipboard however, is left above. "You're looking good so far," he offers as he works, "everything's where it should be."

Bennett raises a brow slightly, until she seems to clue in that he's referring to the raptor, and not its driver. Then, she merely looks amused. "I think you've worked on my bus a few times," she remarks softly, sinking into a crouch that's more conducive to the limited space in the cabin. Slim fingers brush the bird's flank, near the seal of the open hatch. "Thank you for helping to keep her flying."

Toby is still working through his list, and so utterly misses any clue about the confusion. Grumbling to himself a moment as one panel doesn't seem to want to be move he finally manages to persuade it and then replies, "that's avionics and mechanical. I just make sure you stay alive long enough to do something useful." On that cheery note he starts to extract himself from the gap he's been occupying and offers the officer a brief smile. "I think you're all good, fire wise at least." Picking up his clipboard he makes another quick note before turning it round and offering it to her, "if I can just get your autograph on that then I can get out of your hair. Until someone decides to check your O2 systems of course."

Another pilot might be irritated, or even offended by the technician's diffidence. St. Clair, however, flashes him a grin that he may not be able to see, but is evident in the smooth timbre of her voice when she speaks, "Then thank you for helping to keep my ejection seat ejecting, and my fire extinguisher extinguishing, Mr. Shackleton. I am much obliged, in either case." The clipboard is accepted, and her own post-flight checklist shunted onto a spare seat usually reserved for marines— or whomever else is lucky enough to be hanging on for dear life in the back of her bus.

"I hope you never have need to find out just how excellently they eject and extinguish," Toby replies, not bothering to dust off his coveralls now he's back vertical again. Almost like he'll be doing the same manoeuvre again soon enough. Leaning against the back of the pilot's chair he motions with his head towards her own checklist, "anything we need to know about on that?"

Bennett's mouth retains its ever so slight curve; part amusement, part genuine warmth. Her lashes shadow her cheeks as she skims the notes he's made, and adds her signature at the bottom. 'Bennett C. St. Clair'. "Well, speaking of oh-two, the CO2 scrubber's been acting up a little lately. I've been getting some intermittent air quality warnings." Her eyes flick back up to the taller technician, hunched as they both are in here, and she passes his clipboard back before flipping back to the first page on her own, and showing him her notes. "Pretty sure it's just glitching, though I thought I felt a little lightheaded the other day. Medical said I was fine."

Toby cranes his neck to take a look at her notes and considers in silence briefly. Taking his board he glances momentarily to ensure that there is indeed a signature in the correct place then turns back to her's. "Let me check something," he offers, moving to squeeze back into the ECO's domain and reaching to remove a ceiling panel. Peering up at something for a moment he taps the end of his pen against his teeth a couple of times and then shakes his head. "Nah, your scrubber is connected properly, and it doesn't look like it needs replacing yet," he starts as he reattaches the panel, then, turning back to Bennett he shrugs, "doesn't mean there isn't something wrong with it mind."

Bennett drops back into the pilot's seat when Toby repositions himself to check the ceiling panel. She takes the opportunity to finish off the remaining items on her checklist while he pokes around, and there's a few solid thumps from outside the raptor as it's hooked up to a fuel line. "Well, like I said, it's probably just a glitch." The raptors are old tech, unlike the mark seven vipers. "If I see it again, I'll be sure to have you take a look at it." She beams a smile at the man.

Toby sticks his pen behind his ear again and shrugs slightly, "once you get that in the Chief'll likely have someone take a look anyway. Best not take the risk and all that." Starting to duck out of the hatch he pauses and turns back briefly, "if it happens again though make a note of when and such, see if there's some sort of pattern to it. Could help to find the issue if it proves elusive."

"Thank you. Crewman." She has to pause, and glance at his collar before invoking his rank. "I will be sure to do so." Still smiling, the bus driver finishes signing off on her checklist and prepares to follow him out the hatch, and onto the wing of the vehicle. "It was nice to meet you. Officially." She winks at him, then hops down to the deck gracefully.

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