MD #190: Close The Hatch
Close The Hatch
Summary: Orion gets attacked. THings go poorly in the starboard hangerbays.
Date: 16/10/2017
Related Logs: Bogey Ambush
InezST 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. Above each bay and within are a trio of small red firefighting balls that will explode on too much heat being exposed. 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.

A wing of Vipers and a Raptor leaving to scout didn't excite much comment, it's been happening on a fairly regular basis as the Orion Fleet searched for a planet to settle the refugees and livestock. So, most of the Deck has gone on with its usual procedure. This normal industry is suddenly broken by the call over all coms, and Condition One brings the sudden flurry of Vipers being scrambled, and Raptors seconds behind.
Then the explosions begin.
The first fighting wings are barely out of the Starboard deck when the nuke connects, punching through the Arpay armored plating and sending flames inwards, scurrying over the ships still there like a pack of rats and igniting them on their way. The ordered chaos of spooling and launching is thrown into an inferno of screams, panic, and the roar of fire unchecked.

Toby wasn't on duty when Condition One was called, although he was on his way back to his post in the starboard hangerbay. By the time he gets there it's chaos already, with serious damage immediately evident. It's fair to say that a degree of swearing occurs, as he makes for his firelocker. Not having been onduty he's been beaten to the suits by others, leaving him to run the control board. That vital piece of kit that tracks how much air a team has left. Radios are grabbed, coms are checked, and then it's into the chaos to find on-scene command and report in. Well, that’s the theory anyway, in practice the airwaves are jammed already and there's fires everywhere. "Deck Office!" he calls to his team, their hearing somewhat restricted by their PPE, and the group of them start to make their way towards the most likely rallying point.

After the initial fireball, the scene is beginning to break down into three major areas, the largest fire being a grouping of fighters that were spooled up and about to launch nearest the bay opening. A team is hastening to shut down all the fuelling apparatus and pull hoses out of paths of flames, to head off possible explosion of the tanks. Nearby, a team of the first fire responders on the site are trying to keep those flames at bay and give the deck hands a chance.

OSC does seem to have been set up in the deck office, so once Toby's team reports in, they're sent to aid the group moving fire hoses. Pressures are recorded, as is the time each man goes on air, and then the four are off into the chaos. Not that SOC isn't chaos either, and while his primary role is monitoring the board, Toby does also hunker down with the senior NCOs coordinating the response and bring his experience to bare on just what the frak to do. It's a tough job, given they know frak all, but it's what they've got. "Watch the LO supply pipe through the belowdeck stores," he cautions, not seeing the pipe that he knows exists on the plans, "that goes we could seem thinks start to cook off down there." With the smoke levels rising it's uncomfortable work, but they can't afford to pull back just yet, not if they don't absolutely have to.

The air is shimmering from the heat of the burning vehicles, and the men are struggling to keep their exertions from eating up oxygen, keeping their breathing even as they methodically spray back the flames. The hoses are being pulled back, and there's a few left to go over to the left. A burning Rhino is making it hot for the deckies to approach, and after a barked order to the firefighters, they begin to shift their arc towards the Rhino and keeping the flames from the hoses. One of the deck hands waves his arms to the others, and they run over to begin uncoupling the hose from the main, since it's been shut down. Carefully keeping the end up to prevent spillage, they begin turning it away from the supply pipe, and dragging it back towards the deck that's already coated in flame retardant.
They are almost there when the Rhino's fuel tanks burn through, and the sudden spillage to the deck doesn't explode, but the fire spreads quickly, and the thick black smoke begins roiling through the deck.

That black smoke, that’s not good for the folks not in BA. A call goes out on the deck channel for all those not on air to pull back to the main corridor, including those in On-Scene Command. Grabbing an EEBD from it's cradle to give him a more comfortable journey Toby is one of the last out, but with ten minutes of air he can afford to be. Ushering out those without, and stopping to haul up those that trip and fall in the exodus he makes his way towards the relative safety of the hatch, even as the flames start to lick towards him.

As the flames come closer, a young woman deckie covered in black and ponytail plastered to the back of her neck with soot stumbles past Toby, almost collapsing. Anyone left that can find enough oxygen to scream is probably already so engulfed that it will probably be a mercy when the venting takes all the oxygen from the compartment. The young woman leans against the wall, looking back, the whites of her eyes standing out starkly against her sweat and smoke grimed face. Her eyes are the only indication of her fear and horror as the rest of her is too covered to distinguish the set of her mouth.

The young woman can hear the call to "shut the hatch, shut it now! We're out of time!" She looks to the hatch, to Toby, and then to the hatch again. She's counting the seconds, and she moves towards it as if she would go back through, but she stops, screaming a name, perhaps, it's unintelligible in the emotion and mini explosions beyond the door, lost in the crackling of flames to anyone on the other side.

Toby can feel his back heating up, the horrible smell of the fire resistant jumpsuits starting to smoulder. He might not be as athletic as he used ot be, and the EEBD might not provide him with as much air as he'd like while sprinting, but he finds an extra burst of speed from somewhere and goes barrelling through the hatch. The lass goes flying, but at least she isn't about to rush back through. "Fraking close it! he tries to yell, but the mask on his face makes hit hard, so he ditches the board he'd been carrying and shoves his weight against the already hot metal of the hatch to swing it closed, and is then joined by others in turning the gear to dog it shut. Out in clean air he rips the mask off and gulps down lungful’s of it as he sits with his back to the bays. Not much else he can do right now, except hear the odd thumb against the hatch and the ever decreasing radio traffic from inside.

One of the last stragglers in front of Toby is grabbed onto as the lass gets shouldered, and she almost takes her friend down with her. "You made it," she's panting over and over, hoarsely, even as he's dragging her to her feet and turning back to help Toby. It takes her a moment, and then she understands. She puts her back against the door, and when the they begin turning the gear, her strong arms are leant to the effort. She settles down next to her friend and Toby, and listens to the sudden silence on the other side as space rips away the oxygen that fed the flames, as well as the debris and bodies of those who fell. She bites hard on her lip, but the silence behind them only serves to make the sounds of the battle elsewhere.

Another fire fighter appears in the passageway ahead of them. "Shackleton, all secure?" it's a rhetorical question as she looks to the hatch they're leaning against. "We have fires in pods five and two. Five is mostly contained. Get your ass to two and give them a hand."

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