AWD #334: Got to Catch Them All
Log Title
Summary: Marine teams from the Orion are dispatched to deal with a new sort of threat - humans said to be collaborating with the Cylons.
Date: 22/05/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: A Job for the MPs
Dreyer Fairfax Fischer Randy 
Aboard the Kings Bay
It's a big gun cruiser.
AWD #334 - 07 Dec 2005

Once the marines selected for the operation are gathered, Captain Fairfax stands up and approaches the podium to begin the briefing. "Listen up, Marines!" He begins, as is traditional. "You've all been selected for Operation Human Resources." Who comes up with these names? "You've been divided into fifteen teams. Each team is going to attend a particular personnel review, and apprehend the individual being reviewed. You will then take them to Pireaus, where we have forces ready to detain them. Each team leader has an envelope, to be opened once underway, that contains a dossier on the individual being arrested." A pause. "These individuals should be considered armed, dangerous, and possibly suicidal. Therefore, you are authorized weapons hot and to shoot at the first sign of resistance. Tazers and other nonlethal devices are preferable, but these people pose a great threat to the security of our fleet. Do not risk your lives or the lives of others to apprehend them alive, if it comes to that." Another pause. "Any questions?"

It's a briefing like any other… or is it? Dreyer is already suited up for a mission, with standard gear. For him. That includes the trappings of an MP lifestyle. Gotta love those cuffs. He's not bored, per se, but he's also not fully focused and gung-ho, either. If anyhing, the young Sergeant looks tired. The added duties on the prisoner in the brig and whatever the frak is going on down on the Deck have him on a different shift than he's used to. And this? Different than that. Anton stifles a yawn as he listens, eyes suddenly narrowing and focusing as he picks up on a few key things. At the last, he does speak up… after clearing his throat. "Sir, are these Jacks or skinjobs we're apprehending?" Different prey requires different tactics.

Having his gear as well, Fischer listens a bit thoughtfully. There's a hint of a smile at the name of the operation, before he nods as he listens, and also at Dreyer's question, looking back to Fairfax for the answer.

This marine isn't an MP, but perhaps due to her recent experiences, she's been tapped for the mission. Randy's a whole foot shorter than her bunk mate so there isn't as much area to carry her gear on, but she manages. She checks her gear absentmindedly while listening to the briefing, fingers brushing past this pocket or to the pistol at her hip, checking that the safety is on. "Or are they humans?" she asks in quick succession to Dreyer's inquiry.

"Great question, Sergeant." Fairfax responds, in the tone of one who may have been hoping not to answer that part. "This is going to be hard for a lot of you to swallow. I know it was for me when I first heard it. But as far as we know, neither. These are human collaborators. There is some talk of brainwashing, but we don't know the specifics yet."

There is a tightening in Dreyer's jaw as Fairfax answers the question. There's been some rumor about such things, but apprehending fifteen individuals? That's a far higher number than any person would want to imagine infiltrating the fleet. Especially of their 'own' kind. Dreyer runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the vest he wears. "Got it, sir." His voice falls a bit flat, but hey. No one's quite happy to be told they may have to shoot one of the rare survivors of the massive scale genocide. But he will most certainly be grabbing a taser on the way out… and suggesting anyone he's teamed up with do the same.

Frowning a bit as he hears that, Fischer nods a bit slowly. "Was bound to be someone, sadly," he says, mostly to himself, as he prepares. He'll grab a taser on the way out as well.

Fairfax looks out at the teams of marines gathered, fixing his gaze on each man and woman for a moment. "I know this is a disagreeable task. I know this news is not what you want to hear. You've all been chosen because Marine Command believes you have what it takes. The people we're sending you after will, potentially, be looking to take others down with them. Remember that." A pause, and then a nod. "Team leaders, look to your teams. On my command, move out. Dismissed." And off they go.

Fifteen teams of Marines gear up and board fifteen different Raptors that are waiting in the Orion's hangar bay. The buses are not all from the Orion, and their team is assigned to a Raptor from the cruiser Kings Bay. The unfamiliar pilot and ECO seems suitably bored, as if this is a routine ferry flight. But once the Marines are secured the envelope with target information can be opened. Their 'collaborator' is one Staff Sergeant Carol Lochias, an MP transferred aboard the Kings Bay from Picon. Her photo shows a dark-eyed woman in her late twenties, with close cropped brown hair and a scar on her chin. Nothing in the picture seems unusual for a Marine serving aboard fleet vessels — she could be anyone's squad leader or platoon sergeant. She's even smiling for the camera.

The heavy cruiser Kings Bay is orbiting Piraeus, a short hop from the Orion. As one of JTF Nomad's original vessels, she's seen her fair share of action. Scorch marks and patched over battle damage is evident as their Raptor makes its approach and docking. Neither the pilot nor ECO make any chit chat during the short flight. And as soon as they're in the much smaller hangar of the Kings Bay, the team is greeted by a Lieutenant in his duty blues. He's a heavy set, dark-skinned man who looks to be a bit old for the rank, with touches of gray around his temples. He also has a tense, frowning expression that suggests he has been briefed on their mission. "I'm Lieutenant Foros. Who's in charge here?" Nope, no 'welcome aboard' for you.

Another route in 'charge.' Dreyer isn't too happy about it, but his kvetching doesn't go beyond 'acceptable levels' for a marine. There's some choice words mumbled about officers and unsavory duties, but that's about it. Before departing, he makes sure the other two have tasers on them. "I'd rather they shit themselves than have to kill someone." Aboard the Raptor, he opens the envelope and begins looking over the file. He does his duty in reading, memorizing what's important, and passing it along with a note for it to come back to him once it's been reviewed by the rest of the team. The quiet flight doesn't phase Anton, no. It gives him time to go over his things. Once they disembark, he has a quick stretch, checks his gear, and comes to attention for the Lieutenant. "Sir, Sergeant Anton Dreyer. I'm handling this team today." Gesture, "Fischer," gesture, "and Flynn." Certain as he may be that Foros gives no fraks, it's polite after all.

Once in the bird, it's pretty clear Randy came well prepared. She already had a tazer and shook it in hand with a smile when Dreyer reminded her, but she also picked up a billy club. "I'd rather knock them out than smell their shit and piss." She beams.

Randy seems on her guard from the moment they step foot off of the Orion. "So who is our target sir?" Eyes flick down to the paper in Dreyer's hands when the envelope is opened. She waits her turn and takes the dossier to study it, staring at the picture for quite awhile before passing it along. After stepping out of the raptor, she stands behind and off to the side of Anton to make it clearer who is leading.

Safely not in charge, Fischer nods a little as he memorizes the information, studying the picture and memorizing the details. Nodding a bit to himself, he looks to the Lieutenant as they disembark, moving into the right position with the others.

Lieutenant Foros has the courtesy to look at each of the Marines as their names are given, but all he says is a collective, "Right." He checks the time, scowling at his wristwatch. "The meeting was scheduled to start four minutes ago, but I haven't had confirmation yet. Stand by, Sergeant." And there the Kings Bay officer seems content to wait, though not without the occasional grimace, and some impatient looks towards the hatch to the ship's central passageway. Minutes tick by. One. Two. Three.

The Lieutenant isn't the only one feeling impatient. Dreyer would rather this be over and done with, quicker than a hookup on leave. There's only so many times you can nervously check your equipment and ensure the envelope is stashed away. He leans back on his heels, exhaling slowly through his nose. There's a glance towards the Raptor, then back to Foros. "Have you had any issues with any of the other interviews, sir?"

Randy nods to Lieutenant Foros when he looks her in the eye at her introduction. As the silence unfolds, the marine uses it to check out the hangar, eyes sweeping over where different equipment is, if there are missile racks out, things like that. She idly unsnaps and snaps some button on the loop for her billy club.

Fischer nods a little, waiting patiently now. Expression neutral as he looks around the room, then over towards the hatch, before he takes a brief moment to inspect his gear, just in case.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Foros tells Dreyer. As if a 'personnel review' wasn't bad enough, they have to do a fake personnel review to try and arrest one of their own. Or someone they thought was one of their own. More long minutes pass, and the Lieutenant checks the time yet again. It's been at least ten now. And while the Deck crew of the Kings Bay is tiny compared to a Battlestar like the Orion, they still want to get the Raptor turned around, and the officer and Marines hanging about are getting the harry eyeball from Deckies forced to wait. Finally a crewman comes into the hangar, strolling leisurely up to Foros. "Hey Lieutenant? Ensign Tams said to tell you "The Staff Sergeant hasn't showed up for the meeting yet."" To which Foros mutters, "Godsdamnit." The venom in his tone takes the crewman by surprise. The Lieutenant hesitates, looking at the team of Marines, and then over towards the intercom.

You learn to stand and do quite a bit of 'hurry up and wait' as an MP, but this is grating on Dreyer and there's a tension in his eyes and jaw. When the crewman arrives and reports that the Staff Sergeant hasn't arrived, the Orion marine's shoulders tense and he takes a half-step forward. The venom in Foros' voice might startle the Kings Bay crew, but Anton just looks to the Lieutenant as if he's voiced what was already being felt. As the man goes for the intercom, Dreyer takes a half turn to speak quietly to the other two. "I'm guessing they caught wind of what was going on. This may get messy. They're a new arrival to the ship, but they may still already have friends unwilling to see them arrested."

As time rolls on, Randy has slowly unbuttoned this little holster or that with the stamina of a tortoise. Not knowing the Lieutenant, and sure as hell not caring by the lacksidaisical look on her face, lids in a bored droop, she doesn't seem surprised that after this much time, the woman isn't going to make it to her lovely review. "Suppose she didn't make Staff Sergeant for nothing," as she looks back up at Dreyer. "So how do you want to do this?"

Fischer frowns at the news, but doesn't say anything. Nodding a bit at Dreyer's words, he adds, "Very messy. But we'll be ready for it." Nodding again at Randy's question, in agreement.

"Frak," Foros mutters under his breath. He looks angrily at Dreyer. "She may just be late. Or her relief may be late reporting. It could be anything." Still he looks appropriately concerned, even as he hesitates long enough for the Marines to discuss the situation. "Follow me," he finally decides, waving them after him as he turns toward the passageway.

"As cleanly as possible. We have our orders, but this is still another ship. We don't want to cause a scene, if possible." They're on another ship, about to arrest one of their MPs. Dreyer is behaving in 'worst case scenario' at the moment, it would appear. The concern that the Staff Sergeant may already be ingratiated is perhaps a valid one. After all, he's new to Orion (from Piraeus) and has friends. The man looks to the Lieutenant, but frowns a measure at his words. There's finally a nod (perhaps a touch relieved to be out from under the baleful eyes of the deck) and Anton sets off to follow, gesturing for Randy and Fischer to stay close.

"Affirmative." But as soon as Dreyer is off, Randy tails him and whispers, "Wait, which one is more messy. Tazer or club?" like a little MP's first day at school. Can I bam bam or zap zap?

Fischer nods, moving into position with the others. He's keeping quiet, looking around as they move, frowning a little as he does.

No space vessel is roomy, but a gun-fighter like the Kings Bay is even less so. They have to brush past various crewmembers as they proceed along the passage, and though the officer could be calling out for the crew to 'make a hole,' he hasn't done so yet. They head aft, then climb a ladder to the next deck before arriving outside the small compartment set aside for the interview. The ship's personnel officer, a young Ensign, is waiting outside. The man does not look overly concerned, just vaguely impatient. That is until he gets a look at the expression on Lieutenant Foros' face. This causes the Ensign to hustle over toward the group. "No sign of the Sergeant yet, sir. Apparently she's not at her duty post anymore. I sent the clerk to check the enlisted quarters but they're not back yet." A lot of fuss over someone late to their review meeting, but it sounds like the Ensign was following instructions at least. Foros looks to Dreyer, Randy, and Fischer, then at the intercom on the bulkhead nearby, hesitating.

"Well that seals it," Randy rolls her eyes. "Frakking telegraph…" emerges amidst some mumbling adjustment of her body armor. "Although her access has I hope been revoked, that doesn't mean she can't sweet talk her way into more of a threat."

"Club is more messy," Dreyer mumbles to Randy. "Leaves too many openings for someone to reach you." When you have orders to kill if necessary, yeah. It means not putting your people at risk and Anton is clearly pro-tazer in that department. He follows the Lieutenant through the halls, twitching his shoulders and adjusting to slide by people. He's had a posting on a smaller ship before and it shows. There's just a bit of an ease to the way he passes the corridors and it migh help the shorter Randy in his wake. "Lieutenant," the Orion MP speaks up, drawing a breath. "I'm afraid we cannot risk the Sergeant getting access to any weapons or even a ship. Please place the King's Bay on a lockdown until she is found." If Foros did indeed receive a similar briefing, he'd perhaps understand the nervous energy that shifts Anton's voice as he makes the request.

Fischer nods as hje moves into position again. ""Interesting," he mutters, frowning a bit as he looks between the others. "It would seem that getting this business resolved soon would be good," he offers, thoughtfully as he looks around rather carefully.

Foros clearly doesn't want to call for a ship-wide security alert if the suspect is not running loose, but the Marines' urging forces him to a decision. The Lieutenant reaches towards the intercom, and his finger is literally just depressing the button as gunshots are heard. Pop, pop, pop! The sound of three quick pistol shots, echoing up the passageway from the direction they came. This is followed within seconds by a call over the ship's PA. "Security to the Hangar Bay! Medical team to the Hangar Bay! We have casualties!" The Personnel Ensign looks shocked. Foros looks horrorified. "Oh Gods. It's really true…" he murmurs, wide eyed for the first instant. Then he recovers enough to bark out "Go! Go!"

"Frak." It's as soon as the shouts go up that Dreyer turns, tagging Randy and Fischer as he pushes past. No, he's not waiting for the Lieutenant. He's running even as the man is telling them to go. "They can protect their own hangar, I thought. No need to leave someone behind, I figured." It's breathless words panted as he shoves his way through the corridors; fully expecting the other two to be close behind. "Pistols out! Aim to disable, but kill if necessary! She can't leave the ship!"

"Thanks," the smallest marine of the lot whispers back in clipped fashion. Something about the narrower corridors and encroached personal space has her following tightly in Dreyer's wake like a tiny shadow or like a small dog trotting after its owner. She takes a deeper breath as Dreyer relays his recommendation of lockdown. Still her jaw clenches slightly, a tension winding up in the silence before the fired shots. "Let's just go," Randy gets out between breaths as she trails him again. "Affirmative," Randy reaches to pull her pistol out, but keeps the safety on for the moment. This is domain more familiar to Dreyer, not her, and it shows in all the little things.

You see Marines running during a security alert? You get the frak out of the way! It is a faster dash back down to the hangar, where they discover three of the orange-clad Deck crew taking cover behind heavy equipment, while one is lying face down on the deck in a growing pool of her own blood. Beyond them is the Raptor the team arrived in, its side hatch still open wide. And there is their target. Staff Sergeant Lochias is still in her black vest and helmet, with the barrel of her sidearm shoved into the temple of the ECO that brought them over. Using him as a human shield, the MP is backing toward the open hatch of the Raptor. The ECO is scared shitless. "Don't do this. Please. They'll never let you do this," he pleads. "Shut up!" Lochais snarls at him. She's not smiling now. The Raptor pilot is nowhere to be seen.

At least they've moved out of the way. Dreyer comes skidding into the hangar, pistol held in both hands and down by his hip. As soon as he spots the deckie that's down and bleeding out, the safety is off. He lifts his weapon as he starts to approach. Slowly. Just a step at a time. He trusts Randy and Fischer both to follow suit. "Sergeant Lochias, you are ordered to stand down and report to your personnel review." Even if it's damn clear it's not just a review at this point.

Randy is hot on Dreyer's tail as they enter the hangar, eyes sweeping to locate the threat, but also see if the target is alone or being aided by anyone. "Where is the frakking pilot?" she hisses at Dreyer's back. "There's only one way someone could get the drop on an entire deck crew and not have that vessel take off immediately." It was waiting for her in cuffs or out of cuffs according to Randy until something proves otherwise. "Where's the pilot?" she calls out to the deck crew.

Sergeant Lochias' eyes fix on the Marines who rush into the hangar. The armed response is no surprise but these Marines are not her ship-mates, and she is clearly reassessing the situation. Rather calmly, given the number of guns pointed at her and her hostage. "Lower your weapons," she retorts, "Or I kill the Ensign." It's the same 'command-voice' Dreyer just used. That tone MPs are trained to employ when they demand compliance. Looks like a stand-off there. But there is also an odd light in the woman's eyes. Some crazy confidence? Fanaticism? It's difficult to pin down, but she is clearly not afraid. The ECO sees all those guns leveled at them, and his eyes go wide. He realizes he's probably about to die, and he starts to whisper a prayer to the Lords of Kobol. Lochais jams the gun harder against his head. "Your Gods can't help you. Now move!" She drags the man a step back.

And in Randy's eyes? Darkness. Dull un-ending darkness more likely caused by her having deep-set eyes and a furrowed brow than any cosmic reason, but there isn't much life to her eyes either. She flicks her safety off and fans out from Dreyer slowlllly, sloooowly to increase the span the woman would have to move her gun to hit them both.

The gun does not lower. "I can't let you leave with the Ensign." And there is, in Dreyer's eyes, a brief flicker of apology towards the ECO. The kid knows Piraeus' location. A Cylon-aligned individual can't have him. So the Orion MP takes another step nearer, keeping the Staff Sergeant within view. A distraction is needed, but there isn't one. He can feel his heart in his chest. Part of the training is for situations like this and yet… one hopes to never encounter them. Especially after so much of humanity has died. "Apollo forgive me," he mutters before firing at Lochias. Hoping that his shot is off quicker than the Sergeant can react.

<COMBAT> Randy attacks Lochias with Pistol and MISSES!

<COMBAT> Lochias attacks Randy with Pistol and MISSES!

<COMBAT> Dreyer attacks Lochias with Pistol - Light wound to Right Arm.

The first shot misses Sergeant Lochias, who turns her gun on Randy and snaps off a shot. Bullets ricochet around inside the hangar, and Dreyer's shot wings their suspect, but somehow no one is down and the ECO hasn't been hit. So far. Lochias grimaces in pain as she's grazed on the arm, switching her fire to Dreyer, who hit her. The ECO chooses this moment to fight for his life as well.

The best outcome? To wound Lachias enough that the ECO can get away. They're all trained for combat to some extent; Air Wing is no exception. It almost work and it just serves to strengthen Dreyer's resolve. Fischer likely went to tend to the fallen deckie until medical arrived and he's relying on Randy to stay at least… somewhat within expected parameters. There's only so much he can do. You can't micromanage at this stage. So instead, he just tightens up his grip and continues on the approach for Lachias. Trying to get within range to subdue or at least try to switch to the taser.

As one of the Staff Sergeant's bullets whizzz past her, Randy kicks it into high gear, sprinting like a tiny flea. "Okay..okay…gods damnit. Hermes guide my fingers," oh where is a Deckie to play pull-which-part when you need one. Bleeding or pissing and shitting themselves behind a crate. "Frak," she mouths to herself as she crawls underneath the bird to pull off a panel as quickly and quietly as possible. "Eeenie meenie miney mo." She reaches down to her thigh and pulls out a wrench to get to work on a hydrolic coupler. There are just some things this engineer won't leave behind.

<COMBAT> Dreyer attacks Lochias with Pistol - Light wound to Left Arm.

<COMBAT> Lochias attacks Dreyer with Pistol - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!

<COMBAT> Eco attacks Lochias with Unarmed - COVER stops the attack.

The ECO tries to stomp on his captor's instep, but in the scuffle he stamps on his own foot instead. He gives a cry of pain though the injury can't be too serious. But as ineffectual as it is, the man's struggles reveal Lochias' dilemna. She doesn't want to kill the ECO, as easy as that would be, and he is becoming a liability as more gunfire flies back and forth across the hangar. Hit again in the other arm, the fugitive Staff Sergeant continues to doggedly drag the ECO back, holding her fire to focus on trying to get into the Raptor.

There's absolutely no knowing what Randy is doing. At least for Dreyer. The man is fairly single-minded at the moment and the engineer has gone out of sight. As soon as the Staff Sergeant begins to drag the ECO further into the Raptor, the Orion MP breaks into a run. Straight for it. To keep the woman in sight and to fight to close that distance before she has a chance to close the hatch. Or anything worse. He'll try to get another shot off before simply aiming to dive right into the interior of the bird.

<COMBAT> Lochias subdues Eco!

<COMBAT> Dreyer attacks Lochias with Pistol - ARMOR on Abdomen stops the attack!

<FS3> Randy rolls Repair-3: Success.

Lochias subdues the struggling ECO without much trouble, but in the time it takes Dreyer is able to close in and shoot the Staff Sergeant at point blank range. The bullet hits her in the side and her vest takes the impact, unfortunately. But now all three of them are basically struggling in the Raptor door, and Lochais once again turns her gun on Dreyer. Behind the Raptor, Randy quickly assess the exposed parts of the engine. The bus is armored, so there's not a lot of obvious components to play with, but there are valves and things. Turning some, she can hope it will at least delay the engine startup, if Lochais reaches that point.

There's a gun in his face. Close-quarters firefights are always a bad idea. Always. For everyone involved. Which is why Dreyer drops his and just dives right at Lochias. Best case scenario? Any shot goes past him. Worst case? Well, let's not think about that right now. Nope. Instead, he's trying to grapple with the Staff Sergeant to cause her to drop the gun and wrench her dominant arm behind her back.

A delay could be all the time they need. Randy reaches in to feel around and works calmly and as quickly as possible. She knows the mechanics behind these birds, but she doesn't work on them day in and day out, and one model is going to be different from another in terms of placement. Still, it's like surfing unknown waters. There's a rhyme and reason to all these pieces and she slips into her rhythm like she might when disarming an IED. She's careful not to set up the bird to explode or anything. Then she pulls herself out on the side of the craft, pulling herself into a crouch as she reaches for her tazer and flicks off the safety, ready to launch herself at whatever is around the corner.

<COMBAT> Dreyer subdues Lochias!

<COMBAT> Randy attacks Lochias with Tazer - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!

Having just been /shot/ in that arm, Staff Sergeant Lochias screams in pain as Dreyer twists. Her pistol falls to the ground and she drops to her knees, where the MP is quickly able to force to to the ground. During the scuffle Randy's taser dart bounces off Lochias' armored vest, failing to embed and discharge. The ECO staggers clear, managing to not get in the way, and blinking owlishly to find himself still alive. "No!" Shrieks Lochias. "NO! You fools! You don't know what you're doing!"

Out come the cuffs and they're secured into place. "Sergeant Carol Lochias, you are under arrest for suspicion of consorting with the enemy." There's more to the spiel, but that's really the important bit. 'Yo, you're a damned traitor.' "If this was truly in error," Dreyer notes as he works to haul the woman to her feet, "I'm sure a JAG will be able to sort that out for you." And then he's looking for the pilot and his team. It's high time to get the frak home. And hey! They didn't have to kill her.

Randy rolls her eyes. "Why must people always yell the most unhelpful things? I mean, if we really don't know what we're doing, how could you have just apprehendeed her?" Randy drolls over the woman's shoulder to Dreyer. "Or, she could have said why Marine enlistees needing to ever know what they are doing is somehow suddenly relevant." She actually lets out a little growl at the woman and turns swiftly on her heel to approach the downed Deckie and the others. "If possible, we need a new pilot and I need a Deckie to go undo what mess I just made under the bird. Also to check over the systems after that gunfire." Her tone is more somber, respectful, but it's clear she's expecting the downed crewman to have already died with so much blood being lost.

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