| MD #1: Doctor People |
| Summary: | Several hours after the explosion a team of medical personnel return to the scene of the crime to collect DNA evidence from the remains. (For the sake of continuity, this scene takes place several hours after the explosion, not several days later). |
| Date: | Tue 11/Apr/2017 (OOC Date) |
| Related Logs: | http://battlestarorion.wikidot.com/the-explosive-enemy-within |
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| 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. |
| Wed 25/Oct/2028 (IC Date) |
In the aftermath of the bombing, and once EOD had confirmed that there were no other unexploded devices waiting to be triggered, the wounded had been triaged and sorted for treatment while the actual blast radius and surrounding affected areas had been taped off and guarded with MP's keeping watch. Several hours will pass before Medical can suit up to actually return to the scene and it's now that medical personnel have time to, literally, return to the scene of the crime. Wearing scrubs, a fresh set, a half mask and gloves, and handing out specimen bags to use, that Sam ducks under the outermost line of tape and steps - carefully - around a sizable blotch of mingled blood and tissue remains that's congealed to a tacky and terribly unappealing puddle on the deck. "OK. So here's what we need to accomplish. Blood and tissue samples from around the blast radius itself then sample what ever you can from across the deck. Bone shards, teeth, anything that'll pull uncontainated DNA." She eyes the deck, as the word 'uncontaminated' is going to be a tough bid no matter how they do this. "I know this isn't easy, but we need to get what we can to try to help put together this piece of the puzzle. Any questions?" she asks as she turns back to Lt. Galen and Specialist Flynn.
Lieutenant Ambrose Galen shows up to join the team once the scene is clear. He's already been at work in Sick Bay treating the wounded, but there wasn't time to meet Doctor Nadir in the midst of that insanity. Now he's in fresh scrubs, with head covering and gloves, and a surgical mask down around his neck but ready for us. His face was not one actually seen much during the last war, but it was plastered all over the intel bulletins and the Marines' 'kill cards.' Doctor Galen is a Two. Despite the death and mess the day has been, the Two nods calmly after hearing Samtara's instructions. "Understood, sir. Any special instructions on handling the remains?"
Michael follows slowly after the CMO and LT. He blinks a little at the, well, splatter, and is really, really quiet while he watches his step and tugs his pack open. sample bottles are pilfered out without even looking at them as well as a small datapad, "Yes, sir." He's not actually looking at either of the two officers, he just kneels down carefully and attempts to use a bottle and the lid to collect a chunky bit of, well, lets not dwell on WHO the chunky bit belongs to, shall we? His already pale face might be getting a little paler.
Above the cloth half mask that covers her nose and mouth, Sam's eyes are the most visible and while the faint bit of a sad smile can't be seen, the fine lines that crease around her eyes are noticeable as she shakes her head decisively. "Don't touch any of the remains with your bare hands, but you both already know that. Document where you sample from, so that we can work out a grid. Also," and noting the pallor of Specialist Flynn, she reaches out one -clean- gloved hand to touch his shoulder. "Use the forceps in your kit to pull up the larger pieces, label accordingly and move on. That said," and with care she delicately steps her way forward to the very center of the blast radius and slowly looks around and then up. Her eyes narrow subtly before she wonders, "Do either of you have issues with height? That is, being off the deck?"
After listening to Sam's additional directions, Ambrose responds with a solemn nod. There's a glance aside to where the CMO touches the Corpsman's shoulder, and he gives Michael an encouraging tip of his head. Then he slips on his mask and gets ready to work. He wasn't present when the bomb went off, but looking around the hangar it's not hard to tell where the bomb went off, or to imagine the loss of life. He takes a deep, centering breath, and considers where to begin. It's then he hears Dr. Nadir's question, and answers with a shake of his head. "I do not. I assume we need someone to clear the roof and supports?"
Michael pauses when Samtara touches his shoulder, and nods slowly, murmuring another, "Yes, sir." He DOES pause to fish the forceps out of his pack, making his job a little easier, pausing to label each bottle with location, distance from blast and angle with his grease pencil then stowing it away in the bag. She asks about height and he frowns a little, wondering what the hell she's talking about, and looks up at her, then past her to what she's looking at. It takes a moment to sink in, then the littlest Flynn grunts, "Eew. Uh. As long as we have some way of getting up there, I don't mind, sir, but Im happy to keep working down here if the Ell-tee wants to go upstairs."
Randy already was busy spearheading a search of the ship for further explosions when she got word medical could use her help in the hangar. "What the frak?" but still, she's on her way. She hasn't had a chance to change out of her bloodied dress greys, but at least she cleaned all the blood off her hands and face and all that right? When she arrives, she calls out to the medical personnel, "Doctor…people?"
Clicking the flashlight that's part of her kit, Sam narrows the beam then pans it slowly back and forth across the beams just above the epicenter of the blast then widens the search pattern in overlapping circles before she pauses. "It'll all have to be cleaned, that's for certain. Last thing we want is rotting body parts up in the rafters, let alone having same get stuck in the bolts and crevasses. And those," she angles her head subtly, "look like teeth. Lieutenant Galen, if you're not adverse to heights, I'll need you to head 'upstairs' as the Specialist has coined the term." She lowers the flashlight and glances from where she's possibility identified teeth and gives a single blink of concentration as Randy arrives, sorting through names and faces before she exhales, "Ahh," recognition turning that look of focus into a smile that only her eyes can really convey. "Yes. That makes sense now. Lieutenant Flynn, yes?" she wonders before she glances at the Specialist, and again the bit of a smile is concealed behind the mask before she nods again and focuses just a wee bit better. "We're gathering DNA from the blast radius for analysis to accompany the autopsies that are scheduled as soon as we clear the area so that the entire area can be scrubbed down. I'm thinking," and again she looks up, "that those are teeth."
"I don't mind," Ambrose says when Michael expresses a preference to stay on the deck, and he simply nods when Samtara asks him to go up top. The trouble being, how? The Doctor turns, scanning the hangar bay for some meens, and his eyes settle on one of the Deck's bucket lifts. He's about to go see about borrowing it when Randy arrives, and the Doctor hesitates, not sure if he's included in 'Doctor people' or not. It would seem Nadir has this in hand, so Ambrose slings his medical bag over one shoulder and goes to look for someone who can operate the lift.
Michael wasnt looking, but when Samtara says /Lieutenant/ Flynn, he blinks and glances over. Oh god. Mom. Well, at least its a mental distraction from focusing on how these are little bits of a human being he's systematically collecting and categorizing away. Another chunk that has a hunk of bone on it, into the bottle, cap snapped on, and grease pencil notiing 274 degrees from north, 3 meters from epicenter. Bottle into bag, onto the next interesting chunk. Ooo, is that a TOE?
"That sounds great," Randy says without much enthusiasm. "Did you guys find something you need me to take a look at?" She walks slowly towards the carnage where the medical types are poking around, her eyes flickering to each individual. That's when she spots Michael and her expression shifts slightly into something resembling a frown. She swallows, but says nothing and stays on the perimeter of the carnage.
Delicately retracing her steps, though the human remains were pretty well tracked over by the mass exodus, it's still a matter of form and respect to not step on it on purpose at this point. "From the type of explosion, what is the furthest from epicenter we should expect to find remains, Lieutenant?" Sam wonders as she comes to stand alongside Randy. "And it would be absolutely over kill to suggest that the lieutenant wear a safety helmet and harness while up in the bucket lift, right?" she wonders, en sotto voice, to Randy resting both gloved hands lightly on her hips.
Ambrose returns after a brief discussion with some of the Deck personnel, who have now gone off. "I'm told they need permission to let us use their equipment, Doctor," he tells Sam. "They've gone to track down the Chief of the Deck." It's just in time to catch the exchange of meaningful looks between Michael and Randy, and though he can clearly see there is some connection there, the Two doesn't pry. Samtara's question shifts his gaze back to the Marine in the bloody greys, and Ambrose tilts his head, waiting to hear what her answer might be. He doesn't seem to have heard the softer spoken followup.
Michael crawls forward a bit, squinting as he finds something else. Forceps snag a piece and lifts it up so he can look reeeeaaally close at it, then frowns, "That's /corn/. This one ate at the mess hall? Had guts." But then that's enough speculation. Giblet shoved into bottle and labeled with location and distance and 'small intestine and fabric and digested matter', "Sir. How thorough of a sample should we be taking?"
"Uh…everywhere?" Randy arches her brow delicately at the scene. Should she really be talking to a Colonel this way? No. Does she care? Clearly not, but when Sam comes over, Randy sighs. "Sorry. But seriously. You're not going to find it all. Someone will find something two weeks from now after this is all cleared up. I'd suggest oversampling if you need to match DNA to victims. "He just needs to follow typical Deck protocol when he's up there I would expect. Certainly a hard hat. Deck will hook him up. Randy reaches up to rub her eyes a little. "The blast was not directed, so you'll get a circular pattern and maybe some variation due to the debris it hit along the way." The EOD points out how the debris is scattered and the pattern of the blast to Sam, as if all carnage has a rhyme to it, even if it feels like it doesn't have any reason. "I mean…there's probably nothing left of the General. You're going to get mixed samples everywhere. I'd look for teeth mostly, dental bridges anything like that, even if it's not biological material…say someone had a pin in their leg, those usually have serial numbers on them." How does she know this? She's just an EOD right? "I have too much experience with this frakking shite…Excuse me sir," her language. "Sir, I'm leading a critical search right now…"
Sharing a thoughtful if speculative nod with Ambrose, Sam eyes the bucket lift bit of machinery, "I imagine that there's rules against just hopping into one for a sort of joy ride, as a given rule." There's a fine thread of necessary levity in her tone of voice before she's glancing to Michael and watches as he labels and collects the bit of human debris. "A very good question," she replies as she angles a curious glance to Randy as she answers the question rather handily. "Yes. Exactly so. Primarily the best method is to collect smaller pieces, swab samples from the larger congealed spots and keep moving. Regrettably, the vast majority of this will not be .. sorted into distinct samples for separate burial and funeral rites. We will do what we can," and she turns a more solemn look to Randy, "and thank you for sparing a bit of your time, Lieutenant. I didn't want to risk using to small of a search pattern by underestimating the blast radius, nor spending to much time looking past the logical edge of same." She turns back to Ambrose, "Hard hat and safety goggles. The last thing you want is a bit of human remains dropping into your face, to say the last."
There's an involuntary glance aside towards Michael when the Corpsman announces he's found 'corn.' But then there's a silent 'Ah' when the context becomes clear. Whatever humor might have been intended, it seems to go right over the Two's head. He looks back toward Randy to hear her analysis, studying her mannerisms more than listening to the details, and then lets out a sort of slow sigh. Finally he turns back to Sam and gives the CMO a patient sort of smile. "I'll be careful to follow the Deck's instructions, Colonel. Not to worry." The Deckies have returned now and, firing up the lift, they begin to slowly drive it over towards the scene.
Michael nods slightly at the clarification from Samtara. After filing away his last little sample, he stands up and carefully watches his step as he crosses the disaster area, murmuring a low 'sorry, uh, sir," when he steps around Randy. Kneeling down again a few feet past, a couple more sample bottles are taken out, "A larger piece of bone here. Marrow cells should be easy to get the DNA out of." Forceps and a larger bottle to capture the jagged hunk of white and red.
"I understand. It was four bricks of G4, or at least that's what I projected was used for the blast of that size. This time it's pretty straight forward, but yeah. Just think of the force of dropping a glass dish. When you break that, it goes everywhere right? Now think if you were exploding it." It's a horrible thing to help Sam visualize, and Randy does it with the hardened casualness that comes with a job that desensitizes. "Anyways, if you guys do find anything suspicious, please let me know immediately. If you guys find any DNA profiles that do not match our records? That would be critical. Sir, if you no longer need me?" She looks up to the CMO, looking expectantly, hoping to be dismissed. She watches Michael in her spare moments, and there's some kind of emotion she's trying to school. Ambrose gets nothing more than the cursory recognition of a Two when she walked in. When Michael moves around her and calls her sir, Randy shifts, not answering. But she does offer him a small kind smile and sighs.
Sam makes a quietly noncommittal noise, trying to complete the mental transition between 'surgical residents/surgical fellows/students' and medical/military personnel. She watches Ambrose for a moment, finally tugging her attention back to Michael and nods approval. "Excellent. Focus on bone shards, do a walk around the debris field for a visual sweep," she recommends before sharing another nod with Randy. "Thank you, Lieutenant, and yes, of course, you have other things you need to do. I'll copy you on the results if we find anything that resembles components that survived the explosion," she promises.
Ambrose looks aside yet again to see what Michael's found. It's the same sort of thing he has to look forward to himself, only vertically. Ah well. Randy's description of the explosive and the effects has him reconsidering the blast area, but all he does is nod mutely to her instructions to inform if they find anything suspicious. And since it seems he's about to 'go on' and the CMO is done worry, the Two prepares to step away and gear up for the lift. Only he pauses a second, trying to get Randy's attention before she leaves. "Pardon me, Lieutenant? Would you indulge me for a moment?"
Michael checks the growing number of samples in his hip pack and looks around, trying to spread out his own search area when he realizes he's going to run out of bottle and space soon. No, he doesn't shoot a look back at Randy…yet. He does, however, step forward a few more feet and crouches down, picking up a metal bit that is covered in ichor, "I think this is someone's uniform button." Regardless, the sample is taken, bottle is closed and labeled.
Randy leans to look at Ambrose and her eyebrows shoot up. "Sure. Thank you Colonel." She steps forward and approaches the Two. She's momentarily distracted by Michael's discovery and announcement of the button, but then looks back to Dr. Galen. "How can I help?"
Moving through the debris field again, Sam angles her head subtly to the side to see the button that Michael has labeled and gives it a nod. "Excellent. To bad those don't have serial numbers. The buttons, I mean," she clarifies before gesturing toward the debris field nearer to where the podium was. "Lets move a bit in field for samples," she suggests and withdraws a sample bag from the pouch at her side and begins to pick her way forward toward the center, pausing to bag and tag another bit of bone, then a few feet further another blood soaked swatch of uniform then hesitates over.. "Ahh, a bit of scalp, excellent," which is bagged and tagged as well.
"This will only take a second," Ambrose assures the blood splattered Marine Lieutenant. "Close your eyes, please." He expects Randy to balk at this, or at least hesitate, but he remains patient. Assuming she does as he asks, Ambrose continues with, "Take a deep breath, in through your nose, and slowly let it out through your mouth." He ends with a simple, "Thank you." And that's it. The Two turns and walks over towards the waiting Deckies, and the harness and hardhat he has to manage over his medical gear.
Michael blinks and looks over, watching the interaction between Ambrose and Randy, but only for a moment, before he's having to watch his step again. Now on the far side of the blast epicenter, he squints a bit and bends down to pick up another odd piece, "This looks like epidermis, but this is…well, medical mesh. Did the Master At Arms have some sort of hernia repair surgery?" Regardless, baggie is out, sample ie stored away, location noted.
Randy must be too trusting of doctors, or those in service, or just people in general. At first her brow just crinkles up at the odd request. "Oookay Doctor." She shrugs and closes her eyes. Then she quietly waits for more instruction. Her compliance with his next instruction comes quicker. In through her nose, out through her mouth. After he thanks her, she opens her eyes and stands there a moment, looking slightly perplexed, and then annoyed. She holds her tongue and instead turns without even looking Michael's way and leaves the hangar.
"Excellent question," Sam replies and carefully bags another bit of debris, "we'll check the medical record when we're done collecting the debris." She casts a somewhat wary eye at the bucket lift. . machinery contraption, having reached the age where she can use the word 'contraption' if she wants to, another to track the progress of Lt. Flynn through the hangar then back out to where the ship is on condition 2. Back to the debris field then a few paces out, "Metatarcals," she deduces as she crouches to bag and tag those as well. "A good DNA source here as well."