AWD #054: Event - Gas Giants and PJs
Gas Giants and PJs
Summary: Emilia, Myles, and Kalum find more than they expect when they go on a recon of the gas giant Hera.
Date: 01/03/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Emilia Myles Kalum 
Raptor outside Hera
Inside a Raptor
03/01/2005

The cabin of the Raptor flashes with the jump in from the middle of BFNowhere. Surrounding them are the stars typical to Helios Beta that almost anyone will recognize. At the center is the star, and the actual colonies can be spotted as brighter specks in the distance: Leonis and Virgon. Beta tends to be a mostly quiet system, but there are known survivors out there. But the gas giant of Hera, with all of its moons, is more visible in the distance. A brown and tan globe of a failed star lingers, waiting for the next jump.

Petty Officer Kalum is sitting in the cabin of the Raptor next to the hatch — strapped into his seat. For this mission he eschews his black BDU's, and has donned his flight-suit — wearing the flight helmet and everything. Worn over top of the flight-suit is his armored vest, the pockets and combat webbing of filled with an assortment of items — ranging from medical supplies to grenades to magazines full of ammo. Sitting on the seat to his left is a large satchel full of medical supplies. To his left is the Raptor's heavy machine gun, upon which his right hand rests — his fingers tapping lightly.

Myles stands dressed on his flight suit as well, he checks his ECO equipment for the first report. "Jump procedure complete, sir, no DRADIS contacts. Everything is clear for many clicks." The man states to Emilia, who is serving as the pilot today.

Seated in the pilot seat is the newly arrived Captain "Teach" Hallick, frowning at the readings on the dash. "Man. I wish we could go do something about Leonis," she mutters, mostly to herself. She's been operating the Raptor with the relaxed ease of someone who has been doing this for a long time and reaches out to check a toggle on the dash for an additional reading. "Copy that, Chopstick," she says in the relaxed voice many pilots adopt over time. "So, folks, we ready for the last jump?"

"We're only one Battlestar, Sir…" The PJ offers quietly from the back. "Maybe the last one, and the best hope humanity has right now. We're fighting a hero's fight, but unfortunately we can't save them all." The Petty Officer offers quietly, having seen Leonis first hand and the concentration camps. Kalum checks his gear here real quick, and then gives the thumbs up. "Still solid back her, Sirs."

The Raptor flashes once more after the drive spools and dumps them out pretty danged close to right where they wanted to be. Off to the side is Iris, the largest moon. Ahead of them is the gas giant looming huge in the canopy glass. 79,000km in diameter, the third largest planetary object in the colonies sits quietly like gentle giant.

"I wish we had at least news from the other colonies, that would help a lot on coordinating rescues." Myles comments with a sigh, checking once again the ECM, his face turning into a blank expression, "Sir, we got hundreds of long range contacts… Colonials civilian liners and unknowns. The latter holds a vast numerical majority, they seem to be into stationary position." He says, turning his head towards Emilia.

Emilia doesn't repond to Kalum except to smile faintly—not that the PJ can see that, of course, but there you go. As they jump in, she's already studying her surroundings carefully, waiting for the report from her ECO. "We have some news, Chopsticks. Not as much as we'd like but some." But then, the pilot /was/ just picked up off Picon in the last week. She turns around to look at the ECO, frowning. "Where?"

Myles looks straight at Emilia, trying to keep a rather stoic position, "They are behind us, 100 miles. Even though we might have been seen, there are no signs of movimentation." He answers.

There is click now as Kalum unfastens his safety harness, and rises up to his feet. He drifts forward a few steps, and leans on the back of the co-pilot's seat to stare out the forward window — waiting for the Raptor to be brought around. The PJ is a rescue specialist, trained to pull people out of the worst situations on land, air, sea, or space. He wants to get a good view of the civilian ships when they are close enough.

Grunting, Emilia turns the Raptor around so that they are at least pointed in the appropriate direction. "Right. We're going to do a flyby, gents, and take a looksie." She starts to fly toward the detected ships, doing what she can, to the best of her knowledge, to come at the makeshift fleet from an upper trajectory. "Eyes peeled and see what you can read on the sensors, Chopsticks. We are looking for signs of life or…well. Or of something having happened to them."

Turning the Raptor, the field of contacts looks like a cloud of dust at this range. But with the engines throttled up, the Raptor moves forward to scout. There is no movement, though. No radio signals. No maneuvering. Just the steady march of DRADIS contacts getting closer and closer. But while the DRADIS shows this, what's visible out the front of the canopy glass becomes more and more paling. It takes about fifteen minutes to cover the distance, but those civilian ships can be broken out. It looks like there are as many as three dozen of them floating out there, civilian transports and even some large freighters. But whats floating around them and through their midst is a little more significant: wreckage. And anyone who has been in the fleet more than a couple months will start to break out shapes. The exploded remains of half a battlestar flight pod. Engine pods. Gun turrets. Vipers. The remnants of the front end of a Destroyer. Pieces. Everywhere. The skeletal hulks drift aimlessly.

Kalum moves to take a seat in the co-pilots chair here so that he can get a better view of the destruction. He cranes his neck at odd angles looking at each ship as it goes by — searching for even signs of electrical activities or compartments still venting oxygen. The PJ's expression is unreadable, and stoic. These are sights he has seen before, and the magnitude of the destruction doesn't shock him. Right now he does his job in the hopes of bringing even one person home.

Myles nods to Emilia, "Wilco, Captain." He says, before returning his focus towards the DRADIS, as if trying to hide from the dreadful sight that lies out there, "Do you want me to concentrate in a special region?" The ensign questions.

"Well, frak." Emilia sounds tired and numb, shaking her head as she angles the Raptor around for a better view of various ships. "All right. Keep an eye on the DRADIS. We're going to start angling in toward the civilian liners—a few of those look like they may have a bit of power. While we do that, Petty Officer, I want you to look for signs that someone may be hanging on out there, all right?" She keeps her voice calm and level as she flies, concentrating on the mission at hand.

"Aye Aye, Sir…" The Petty Officer says quietly, and keeps his head on a swivel. He stares at the cracked hulls, rent guns, and shattered hulks drifting amongst the stars. "Their colonies broken in the fiery chasm of space. Their shining days renounced by a multitude of dark sacrifices…" Kalum murmurs under his breath as he surveys the damage.

Myles crackles his fingers, "As far I've seen, there are zero radio transmissions from the civilians. I wonder why only them were left intact when the navy ships are in so bad shape." He informs.

Emilia gives a sidelong look toward the Marine beside her, momentarily thoughtful. Then she sighs faintly, "The navy ships are the threat. Without them, what chance do the civilians really have? Still, it might be worth checking out the ones in better shape. Check DRADIS again. Anything other than this wreckage?"

"On Leonis the Cylons were herding humans into concentration camps," the Petty Officer notes quietly then. "We're not sure why, but it seemed obvious that they didn't intend to kill them… At least not right away. They may have just boarded the ships, and taken the civilians off." The PJ then glances back towards the ECO. "Sir, see if you can't scan for heat signatures on the IF. The engines will show up hot, but maybe we'll be able to see some life signs as well."

Myles shakes his head in a dimly manner to Emilia, "I'm afraid there is nothing, sir. We still have no signs of movement insed the wreckage or from anything else in our range." He says, quickly turning to check for heat signs, "An excellent idea, if I may."

Myles considers the information gathered for a while, "I'm having some trouble seeing the inner layers of the ship, however, several have engines lit, which means engineering and reactor plants are operative." He pauses for a while, "Sirs, there was a freighter with something that resembles a human figure, whatever it is, was looking straight at us with some kind of binoculars and then it ran away."

"Well. That is unusual behavior. You would -think-, if someone was on a disabled freighter and saw a Raptor jump in, they'd want to get off said freighter." Emilia frowns and angles her bird toward the indicated ship. "So. A human figure watching us and then running. Could be running toward other survivors. Could be running toward a radio. Could be a lot of things. Thoughts, gentlemen?"

"Sir," Kalum says quietly, glancing over to Emilia. "Given the intelligence that cylons can look like humans… We may want to consider jamming transmisions from that ship. If that is a cylon… They may call in a world of hurt on us, and it'd be the perfect trap. Lets get closer, and shine a light in through the forward cockpit. We should be able to tell if they try to hail us in the meantime, and what frequencys they are hailing on." The PJ says smoothly once he hears the survivor sprinted away.

Myles shrugs, "Considerating that there is still the possibility of this being a survivor calling for his group, I agree with him, let's come a bit closer and jam their communications as a precautional measure." He says.

With the jamming from the Raptor coming online and scanning across the radio frequencies, its a sure bet that as soon as something goes active, the Raptor will try to lock onto it. But as the minutes pass, nothing happens. That shape never appears in the window again and there is nothing so much as a peep on the radio frequencies. The ship just floats there, dead as when they arrived. Checking the other windows, there are no visible signs of anything moving inside, not even the telltale hint of an IR trace… not that the sensors can see too far in to spot something like a human.

Watching and waiting. Emilia is calm and collectedexcept for the occasional twitch of a finger as the minutes pass. "We're going to have to go in and take a look." There's no question in her voice. "Could be a skinjob, could be a scared survivor. Could be someone doing lookout work for another group separate from Orion." The pilot doesn't like the situation even a little bit. "But first" And here she keys the mic. "Colonial Freighter, this is Raptor two five one one. Do you read me, Colonial Freighter, over?" Gotta try at least once, right?

The PJ stays silent here, having said his peace, and lets the Pilot and ECO do their work. As the Raptor comes in closer, Kalum scours the freighter for further signs of survivors. The enlisted man's finger begin to tap lightly on his knee, and already he seems to be preparing himself for a possible boarding operation.
Myles keeps focused on DRADIS, as if expecting to notice some movimentation or any unusual contacts. There is some inquietude on the way the man does his job, showing that isn't so relaxed as he appeared to be on the beginning of the mission.

Emilia points toward the top of the ship, aft of bridge. "Raider fire on the comms, right along the top. And they were very careful about how they were doing the firing. They wanted the array out. and only the array." She frowns. "Stranger and stranger. They can't get our call. So we'll have to go in if we want an answer on this." Her voice is crisp now. "So. You ready, Officer Poet?" That appears to be aimed at Kalum with a ghost of a smile.

"Aye aye, Sir." The Petty Officer unfastens his harness yet again, and moves into the back of the Raptor. With a soft hiss of air he removes his flight helmet, and retrieves his black armored helmet from his equipment bag. It is flopped onto his head, and the chin strap is clasped on. He picks up his medical bag, and then his assault rifle — healer and destroyer all at once. There is an ominous clicking sound as he chambers around, and moves to stand at the bottom hatch. "Lets find ourselves an exterior hatch, and we'll make an entry that way. Easier egress then any sort of docking bay. Preferably we should try to dock close to where we saw the survivor. While I'm inside I'd suggest powering down non essential electronics and systems to keep us more invisible incase the cylons show up. Once I depart close and lock the hatch… Only open the hatch for me, and only if I state the Ferryman has crossed the river Styx. If the Cylons show up. Get the Hell out of here, and come back for me with reinforcements. A Raptor is more precious to us right now."

"Aye aye, Sir." The Petty Officer unfastens his harness yet again, and moves into the back of the Raptor. With a soft hiss of air he removes his flight helmet, and retrieves his black armored helmet from his equipment bag. It is flopped onto his head, and the chin strap is clasped on. He picks up his medical bag, and then his assault rifle — healer and destroyer all at once. There is an ominous clicking sound as he chambers around, and moves to stand at the bottom hatch. "Lets find ourselves an exterior hatch, and we'll make an entry that way. Easier egress then any sort of docking bay. Preferably we should try to dock close to where we saw the survivor. I want you two to come with me to provide cover. While were inside I'd suggest powering down non essential electronics and systems to keep us more invisible incase the cylons show up. Once inside… Have your sidearms out, and be prepared to use them on either Cylons or Civilians. I have flashbang grenade incase it gets roudy in here, and people are desparate to get off the ship. We're here to help, but there is a chance these folks could try to take the Raptor…"

Emilia contemplates that for a few breaths then nods sharply. "All right. I think I know just the spot to park her." It doesn't take long for Emilia to dock the Raptor alongside the freighter and for systems to be powered down. She gets her sidearm ready, doing a check on it and her flight suit before looking up at Kalum and nodding sharply. "At this point, this is going to be your show and we are your backup, Petty Officer." He's the special forces, after all. There's a reason they are kept around!

Myles has his arms crossed in a rather tense position, "Do we have any idea of how the Freighter will look from the inside? In case of emergency would be good to know the faster route back to our Raptor." He questions.

Kalum just nods to the Captain here, and goes about the business of effecting the rescue. "Good seal. Equalizing pressure." The Petty Officer says in a grim and serious tone of voice from where he kneels on the floor working the bottom hatch controls after they have landed. He flicks the flashlight on his weapon on, and then looks up to the Pilot and the ECO. "I'm going to slide down the ladder. I'll state the Ferryman has crossed the River Styx if it is all clear. If it isn't? Shut the hatch and undock and wait to see if I can contact you. Roger?" The Petty Officer then looks back to Myles. "We're just going to have to remember which way we came. I've studied floor plans for a lot of civilian ships in case I ever needed to get out in the dark… In the end it comes down to not getting turned around."

Hatch open and seals secured, the hallway ahead of them is lit only by emergency lighting. Every fifth light flickers on and off. Like any freighter, the walls and floor are the same reinforced steel plating that carries sound like its a secondary task. Deep within the ship, the low thrum of the reactor can be heard as it slowly burns at minimal output. On the floor, leading directly to the hatch are dragmarks, though. The black scuff of boots kicking, the walls etched with the same kicked marks. Here and there, a bloody handprint or its own smeared mark on a floor or wall. The first intersection, though, is covered with spent shellcasings. A look back towards the hatch and the surfaces are riddled with dents and paint chips where hundreds of rounds were fired into it. The pool of casings seems only interrupted where bodies had been drug through it. There's the faint scent of fetid blood near the hatch, but otherwise nothing.

"Something very bad happened here." Emilia says that in that same calm pilot voice she's been using the whole mission. The faint tension in her shoulders and arms bely that almost casual low tone. Especially when she spies the handprints. "Which really makes me wonder just what was watching us through the window."

"I'm starting to think this was set up to drag us here. Gods be good, maybe what we saw was just…" Myles says, casting quick glances to the handprints, "I don't know, some sort of trick, Cylons are good with this stuff, right?" His voice just reinforces how worried the young ensign is.

Kalum moves forward in a low crouch, and pauses briefly in the hall a few times. First he checks the blood on the ground. The next pause he pulls up a shell casing and eyes it carefully. His brow furrows, and he moves further forward to the intersection and picks up spent ammo belt for a LMG. "Lords," he murmurs softly, and then motions the pair behind him back away from the intersection — moving into cover himself. "This is no run of the mill civilian ship." The Petty Officer states darkly. "It's illegal for civilian crews to carry firearms, but some do for protection. These guys had heavy duty military grade equipment. They could be gun runners, or pirates. Be on your guard. As for a Cylon trick? Who knows. These guys might have fought them off. We'll know more soon."

Moving through the intersection, one direction appears to go to what looks like a welded-shut hatchway with no other exits. Its a funnel. Turning the corner, there is a line of shuttered and welded hatches on each side to the end about twenty meters ahead. Its a very crude but highly effective killzone. Whoever is (or was) defending this ship, knew exactly how to do it. There is a much larger pool of brass casings at the other end, the drag marks are fewer down the hall, but still evident.

Kelsey pages: You can hear a male's voice, whispered. Sounds something like 'Just say something..'. Its coming from the intersection ahead.

Emilia reaches one hand up to tap her ear and then to point toward that intersection up ahead, trying to catch Kalum's eye as she does. She doesn't speak for now but she definitely doesn't like the look of this kill zone, frowning as they get closer to the manufactured funnel.

Myles notices Emilia gesture and repeats it, indicating that the sound was heard by him as well. The ensign chrouches besides of the woman, trying to get a better view of what lies down the manufactured tunnel.

"You two… High and low here on the corner." Kalum says in a voice barely more then a whisper once he has surveyed the situation, and then motions towards the killzone. "Cover me from here. I'm going to check out the noise. Stay frosty." With that said, the PJ turns the corner, and starts very slowly up the hall in a low crouch. Suddenly, he pauses and briefly looks down at the floor. The light on his gun shines down on the floor, and then he drifts it along it up a wall and into an airshaft. He then motions down to the floor with his hand, and then slides his hand across his neck — he's found a trap. Carefully, he steps over it, and moves forward.

There's a flurry of movement from the end of the hall and no less than half a dozen automatic weapons, including a belt-fed SAW, are suddenly turned and aimed right at Kalum. He's caught in the killzone. But nobody fires. They just stare at him. Faces behind the rifles are smudged black with what looks like engineering grease. Not a single one wears anything but civilian clothes stained dark with oil.

Two Raptor pilots and one ambushed SPECOPS do not stand a real chance in the face of six automatic weapons. Emilia's covering high as Kalum moves and she sucks in a sharp breath in shock. But she's the officer here. No one is shooting. Everyone is staring. "All right. We're all going to take it easy here, all right?" She has her pilot voice out again. "We're just going to take it nice and easy and have a conversation, all right?"

That rustle of movement catches Kalum's attention, and his rifle is brought to bear. Quite quickly it is apparent he is severely out numbered, but he doesn't lower his rifle — though he doesn't fire either. "Captain," the Petty Officer says in a smooth and quiet voice, "stay where you are. Do not come down here." The ruddy haired PJ's pale eyes stare towards the survivors, and his finger moves to rest lightly on the trigger. "You heard the lady, Gentlemen… Lets talk."

Myles brows arc in surprise, he looks at the faces painted in black and back to Kalum. His body remains with the same stance and position as before, as if the officer went through a shock.

"You walked down the wrong godsdamned hallway, friend," one woman mutters. Then a male speaks up, his voice older and its from around the corner. "Fleets gone, guys. Nobody told you? Or you just a couple pirates lookin to pick over what's left?" A pause. There's another hushed conversation. "Fleets gone." He doesn't sound so sure suddenly. "Identify yourselves!" comes another voice. "Five seconds!"

Now. Emilia doesn't do anything stupid like walk around the corner and freak out the people with guns. But she does raise her voice and, in a very authoritative and confident manner, calls out: "Captain Emilia Hallick, Colonial Navy." No specific ship /yet/, just in case. "Your fleet may be gone but it isn't -all- gone. We're doing a recon of Hera and her orbits when we came upon your ship." And the other ships surrounding it. "That's my PJ and I have my ECO with me."

"I am Ensign Myles Howell, the ECO!" Myles shouts, not daring to give them any other additional information. He forces his tone to sound loud and clear, trying to hide any emotions that might give away his nervous state.

"Petty Officer James Kalum," the Pararescue Jumper offers up, and still doesn't lower his weapon. "It may look like the end of everything outside your ship, but that's just not the case." He says in a low and deep voice, and remains in a crouch. "The military is still out there fighting, and a lot of the civilian population as well."

"HORSESHIT!" a guy blurts from behind his SAW. "Everyone's dead!" Silence lingers, a couple of them looking back and forth to each other. Another whisper, and it sounds like someone is giving the older guy advice. "I- I wanna see your patches!" comes the older voice again. "And mind the godsdamned tripwire while we're talking." He wants to see their ship patches from the Orion. "They match, maybe we don't kill your pajama and we got something to talk about." Another whisper. "Jumper, I mean!"

"I'm coming out." Emilia lowers her gun and eases around the corner carefully, making sure that her various patches from Orion are visible as she does. She will do her best to study the faces of those in front of her and by god, she will do her best to look calm and in control. As in control as she can manage while being outgunned and outnumbered.

Myles moves behind Emilia, gun lowered and making slow movements in an attempt to indicate he won't harm anyone (yet). He tries to make his patch visible to the others, even though his body reveals how uneasy the man is with the situation.

Petty Officer Kalum turns ever so slightly so that the Civilians can see his patches on his arm. "Captain, do not come up this hallway. If they want to look closer they can use their binoculars." The PJ says in a cool and deep tone of voice. "Gentlemen, we're telling you the truth. We can keep up a Caprican stand-off here, or you can let us help you. There has been enough human blood spilled lately. Do you have any wounded? I'm a trained Pararescue Jumper, and can look at them or get them medevaced off here."

This time, someone new steps around the corner, but still well behind all of the rifles. Its a guy in his early thirties with his arm in a sling and the forearm looks heavily bandaged. He's wearing a Marines uniform, complete down from helmet, through combat vest, to bloused boots. He holds the flashlight like a weapon and shines it on the patches, then over the rest of the uniforms, then he settles it on Kalum. The Marine takes a step closer into the guns and one past them and he gives close scrutiny. "Petty Officer Kalum, how many colors are in the tattoo you give and where's it go? You get one chance to answer this correctly or you're about to all have a real bad day."

Emilia looks momentarily pained at the question but doesn't do anything other than stand there. Confident pilot. Yup, that's her. She isn't going to even move her weight from one foot to the other at this point.

"Well, Marine… It's a green tattoo of a pair of feet that goes on a pilots ass when we bring 'em back from somewhere they should have never ended up." Kalum says in a grim and serious voice here. "It is my duty as a Pararescueman to save lives and to aid the injured. I will be prepared at all times to perform my assigned duties quickly and efficiently, placing these duties before personal desires and comforts. These things I do, that others may live."

The Marine hears all that and clicks off the flashlight. "We've got four wounded Marines, two wounded Civilians, and there are nine mobile personnel aboard, Petty Officer." The Marine leans to look past him towards the Captain. "Sir, good to see you. Apologies about the hostility. I hope to hell you've got medical treatment to go with an evac. We need it, sir." The Marine clicks the light onto the tripwire. "Sirs, mind the wire. I'll cut that in a minute." The Marine steps forward and offers his left hand to shake around. "I'm Gunnery Sergeant Lez Aarkers." The civilians with the guns slowly lower them and stand up, exchanging glances. They have no idea what's going on.

"I'd rather play it safe than sorry, Gunney," Emilia says immediately, holstering her gun once the Marine relaxes. "We have a Raptor outside. I can evac the four worst wounded right now and then we can get other Raptors en route to evac the rest of you. Do you know anything about the other ships? The hits on the outside from Raiders seemed rather….precise." She nods to Kalum, giving him a little smile. "Can you get the wounded triaged for me, Petty Officer? I can help some but my skills are limited."

The PJ lowers his gun here, and slowly rises up to his feet — drifting forward to meet the Marine. He takes the Marines left hand into his, and gives it a quick shake. "Don't worry about it Gunney. We expected hostility after I saw all the rounds in the hallway, but wanted to check for survivors anyways. Just glad you weren't pirates." The Petty Officer says with a laugh, and then looks back towards Emilia. "I'll get them triaged, sir. Just get us ready to go." Now back to the civilians. "Show me your wounded…"

Myles relaxes his posture after the hostilities are appearently ceased, "Have any of you seen enemy presence in the last days?" He questions, trying not to sound overly curious or intrusive.

"Kalum, get the civilians first, then both my females if you would please? They're the worst wounded. The two guys are walking wounded." He looks back to the others and motions them up. "We're getting off of here, people. Put it all down for now." Looking back to Emilia he shakes his head. "Cylons shot up our comms array after the initial attack. We've had no contact with anyone else except the canners that try to board. I'll never say bad shit about the fleet again, long as I live, sir. Every civ ship out here is lacking a jump drive. Two whole battlegroups. They refused to leave us. They were slaughtered but they wouldn't leave, Cap. Godsdamned every last one deserves medals. Last stand after the fleet at Virgon went to shit." He steps to the side to lean against the wall to let Kalum by. "They'll show you the way, P-O."

"I understand, Gunney." Better than he might know. "All right. We're going to go get the Raptor ready to go—the sooner we can get there, the sooner we will get Raptors back to pick up the rest of you." Emilia looks to Myles, giving him a very encouraging little nod. "Head back to the ship, get it powered up and things ready to go. I'll be right behind you, okay?" She gives him a little smile.

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