AWD #308: Jameson's Paint Job
Jameson's Paint Job
Summary: A new transfer to the Orion has a bumpy start.
Date: 25/04/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None.
Bran Dell Rourke Thane 
Space, just outside the Orion.
Thu Nov 10 2005 (AWD #308)

It's a quiet day, for the most part. People going about their business. CAP is uneventful. Most are likely just looking forward to getting off duty and playing a round or two of cards or dipping down to Charlie's. Alpha shift has wrapped and Bravo is on-duty. Ballswatch isn't for hours yet. Rourke and Bran are the lucky sots sitting on Five. Which, lately, has meant sitting in the room off the hangar with nothing to do. Hope you brought a book!

…except there's a rumble within the hull of the ship. One that reverberates all the way down to the hangar. A klaxon fires and a voice, from the CIC, is soon echoing through the cavernous space: "Alert! Something collided on our starboard side. CAP reports a crashed Raptor. On call to investigate." And then it cuts off. Better get moving, lads.

Sitting in the Alert Raptor, Rourke was tilted back in the seat, working on a piece of paper, a colored pencil sketching in pieces of the Raptor armor for Kelsey's 'Squire' cartoon. "What do you think, Bear," he asks casually, "I was considering taking up using my old degree for something worth a damn up here.." he starts to say when the radio goes off, and he sets aside the notebook, moving the seat back into launch position as he starts to run flight preparation. "Actual, Shaft. Alert Five with Bear waiting for CSAR for clearance to launch and recover, over." he calls out as he's already powering the engine. "Strap up, Bear, we're going to be taking a hop, skip and a jump."

Queuing up the radio, he listens for instructions on where to bring the wounded Raptor once it's been recovered, or if they're holding for a rescue team.

Thane was in the midst of playing cards. "Call." Chips are tossed in, and cards are laid out. "Two pairs an an ace. Thank you gentlemen. Thank you thank you." Gripes of cheating and bluffing are sounded, the man pulling in his chips from the pot. And then the klaxon goes off. "What? No, I'm on a frakin roll here." The rest of point at him, it is his turn for EVA duty. "Frak you guys." he gets up, grabs his suits and heads out to the hangar pad. "Hey! Who's going out?" he calls out, heading for the Raptor on call, grabbing his toolkit, the that goes across his waist, and the one he carries that holds larger, more studier tools. "You guys up?" he calls at the ramp towards Bran and Kelsey.

Lukas Bran reads with a magazine in his hand. It's an expired issue, especially considering the bombs have since fallen around them, but the front sports a racy model and Colonial Warrior motorcycle resting across the front. He must really miss his old bike. This is what he gets for trading someone else's watch: looking up and across to a drawing being made by Shaft. He grunts at it, thoughtfully, and eventually offers a nod. Eventually. It's a nice drawing. He then goes back his magazine. Then he cannot read anymore, or bask in Rourke's presence, but instead stands with helmet in tow to beat feet to their assigned Raptor. Pre-flight is easy enough, and he breaks away from it in order to call back at Thane. "Bus is about to leave, yeah."

There is a faint crackling over the comms, an unfamiliar female voice contacting Actual with all the bells and whistles of a flight suit going off in the background. "El Tee Jig Bran…ejected. Requesting SAR from BS Orion." A pause. "Frak…I think I hit my head…is this shit even working?"

"Shaft, Actual. EVA required. Pilot nonresponsive." Then there's a pause and on the other end, oh hey, CIC has Some Shit to Deal With. Then it comes back on the line, voice a bit more urgent. "Shaft, Actual. Rescue of survivor necessary." And then it's on the team. They have clearance to launch when ready.

As Thane comes aboard, Rourke holds his breath for a moment, waiting for the rescue team to finish loading up, before he glances back towards Bran and the others to make sure that they're secured. "Actual, Shaft, roger that. Deploying in 10 seconds." That will give enough time for everyone to get settled in as he murmurs a quick prayer and raps his knuckles on the instrument panel for luck before he holds the flight stick for launch.

Once cleared and set on his way, Shaft takes the stick, and control of the craft to start to guide it. "Bear, you have the wounded Raptor on DRADIS?" he asks as he keys the radio to open comm so that the cabin can listen in. "We have one eject, be aware."

"Alright, let's get this party started then." Thane remarks coming up the ramp and dropping into a seat on the back, then going through the his own personal checklist when it comes to doing an EVA. It's taped the inside of his EVA suit's helmet, and he's alright going through his tools for the situation. Someone may need to be pried out of their pod, or something may have an air leak in their suit. Any sort of things that's he's currently running through his head. "What do we know beyond the pilot ejected?"

<FS3> Bran rolls ECM: Good Success.
<FS3> Rourke rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Bran rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Thane rolls Alertness: Good Success.

Once the Raptor is out and around towards starboard, they can see it. A Raptor collided into the hull of the ship. Thankfully, they must have been on approach. It's not too far from the hangar (but far enough) and at a low speed. The hull wasn't breeched (or there would have been a lot more alarms and panic), but it is dented. Poor Petra, his paint job is ruined. The canopy has crumpled and those within the Raptor can see that someone did not make it out. There's a body there. However, as Thane spots the ejectee in her seat, so does Bran pick it up on DRADIS. There's Dell, floating by the hull. Too far to reach out and grab on, but not yet in risk of going out into the great space beyond. She will definitely require someone going out to nab her.

Picking up the crushed Raptor outside the canopy, Rourke says quietly, "Contact." he comments over the shortwave, starting to move the Raptor into a better position to pick up the downed pilot as he glances towards the other Raptor and frowns. The ejected first, then recovery.

It's a blurry of activity across the Deck and Bran finds himself caught amongst all of it. He frowns. One final lap around the Raptor is made before he climbs aboard and finishes internals, offering a green status and double-checking the security of their passenger. Then he's locked in at his station and ready to leave: safety first, and protocol to provide the confidence. The man glances aside. "Did you hear that?" is asked, promptly followed with a, "I don't know." The latter comment is directed at Thane. He looks more wistfully at his screens. "Continue trajectory towards the site," pause, "Increase your angle by one. They're right there."

"Copy that, Bear. Adjusting angle." Rourke reports, gently nudging the Raptor as suggested.

<FS3> Rourke rolls Piloting: Great Success.

Dell's body is spread out like a starfish, floating weightlessly in a gentle spin from the forced trajectory of the charges that let her escape from the Raptor before impact. Her face is illuminated with the ugly green shade they seem to favor in Viper helmets, a jag of red where the padding didn't help enough. To assist, her suit is doing the lion's share with the emergency transponder and she's occasionally vocalizing her read outs between singing about a supreme urge to piss; possibly unaware the latter is intermittently being picked up by the mic.

Seeing the body floating out, The PO2, knows what he's in store for, at this point. "I heard." Thane comments, sliding his helmet on, locking it shut, standing up to connect himself to the toe line located near the back of the cabin, clipping in. The toolkit is clipped to his other side, doubling up with the one on his belt. Yep all dressed up and ready to go out. "Comm check. Check check." he says over his own mouthpiece. "Hey, sir? If you just go, you'll get that warm fuzzy feeling the therapists are always talking about. But hang on, heh. Have you out in two shakes. There's a grimace at the crushed canopy. "Well, that'll buff right out."

Bran mutters something under his breath, and thankfully it is left incoherent over the open mic on his end. He turns in place and then shifts away from his station so that he can assist with Thane. "Shaft, if… you could, don't go splattering my wife? She needs a bathroom." There's some actual sarcasm there, and even a smile from his trusting the man's piloting. The large man is capable of a joke here and there. Thane dresses himself up to venture outwards. The ECO checks it over after securing himself and looks at the entrance. Open. "Who was the pilot?"

<FS3> Rourke rolls Piloting: Good Success.

"I think you'd rather have me making sure I don't get your wife killed instead of pulling up rosters, Bear." Rourke offers curtly, keeping control tightly on the Raptor to keep it held for Dell's recovery as he keeps an eye on the damaged Raptor to make sure that it doesn't drift too close to them. He frowns slightly, the pilot continuing to hold the ship steady for the EVA extraction.

<FS3> Thane rolls Reaction: Failure.

"Crewman, identify yourself. This is Jig Short Stack Bran, and if you are the one who is gonna be dragging back my ride, if you can scrape out my kit, there will be a pack of smokes in it for you…oh, there you are!" Dell happens to spin just right so she sees the rescuing Raptor open it's maw. "S'uuuup." She says some what sardonically.

Poking his head out the back door, Thane looks around for a moment, taking in the…sighs. He doesn't exactly /hate/ EVA walks, but it's not something he volunteers for either. Just one of those things that's more a pain in the ass than anything else. "Alright, gonna take a walk, keep the homefires lit, gentleman." he says, stepping out. Which is…unfortunate, because while he did check outside, he must've missed one piece of debris, which clips him at the hip, severing the tie to the toolbox tied to him, but at leas saving his toolbelt. Also, y'know, that whole thing about his tie line not getting severed. "Shit!" he spins a bit in place, trying to get his bearings, grabbing at his toolkit as it floats and spins in midair. "Son of a bitch." he mutters, hitting the control on his wrist with makes the little pressurized jets on his limps fire, causing him to stabilize after a moment. "I'm alright. Heading over now." That said, he fires off again, letting the momentum carry him over to Dell. "Pilot, you alright?" he comms over.

"Eh," the ECO grunts, "But we're in the middle of a divorce. You're probably about to find out why." Bran tosses that into the conversation while bristling under the weight of his flight suit. At least no one can see his expression right now, and the only one that is close is preparing to step out into the void of space. He patiently watches Thane. "So say we all," he answers the man. And then the man is struck by— by something, the ECO looks quickly left and then right, relatively, and then at an awkward angle to see what has created random spin on Thane. A breath finally is released, and he thumbs frequencies to call out. "You sure?" Because rescuing the rescuer makes this tricky. "Short Stack, this is Bear. Hold- hold on tight. Got plenty for you on the Orion, over."

"Let me know when it's finalized, Bear, and I'll throw you a party to welcome you to the divorcee club. Though my ex was on Caprica." Rourke shrugs, trying not to think too much on it, concentrating on the task at hand as he listens to the short-wave conversation. "Steady, gentlemen, let's make sure we get Short Stack on board and handle this recovery by the numbers. Walk in the park. Crewman, think you can get a towline on that Raptor so we can bring it in for recovery?"

"Sorry, sir." Thane didn't reply so quickly, as he was trying to get his bearing. "Petty Officer Thane Ventralis, at your service. Though, funn you should mention that, my cost for towing is a pack of smokes."

"Everything is five by five, save my confidence in you." Hey, that little maneuver with his toolkit wasn't exactly comforting. Dell's been saving her energy by not abusing muscular response to floating around in zero gravity, but now that Thane is approaching she puts a little pep into her floating 'step'. "This is Orion, right? Or did that High Ass Motherfrakker smash me into the wrong Battlestar?" But her answer comes from inside the Raptor. By an unexpected voice and an unexpected call sign. Her line goes dead for a long moment.

It's a grand view for Bran. There's the Orion and that provides some counter to any sense of vertigo; which helps, considerably. The uneasy feeling comes from just who it is that is out there floating about, and he's not thinking about Thane so much as he watches the two bodies. "Hey, you know, I don't much like parties. Not worth it. We'll just get drunk." It's his way of apologizing.

As they start getting things situated, someone must be watching. In some part. Likely DRADIS or the current CAP. "Shaft, Actual. What's the status, over."

"I'll mix you one of my specials, Bear." Rourke responds, "Give me a status on Thane and Short Stack's recovery." he offers, trying to keep his ECO on task for recovering the pilot. Switching frequencies, he speaks up. "Actual, Shaft. Pulling in the package now. Working to secure tow-line to damaged Raptor to bring to recovery. Standby."

"Last time I checked." Thane remarks, looking over Dell's suit. "Well it doesn't look like you're bleeding air, so there's that." he offers, getting to her, taking a moment to over her suit, don't mind the hands, totally impartial. "Alright, let's get you back." he notes, grabbing a hold of her, and starting to slowly pull her back, throwing his jets into reverse. "And yeah, sir, I should be able to get the tow line on. From what I see, there doesn't appear to be any major damage to the outside bulkhead. Okay well, beyond that dent that'll have to be buffed out. Also, scraped the paint. But it should be an easy fix. The Raptor?" he pauses. "Ask me about the Raptor tomorrow, but for starters, have to do a structural integrity test to make sure it shouldn't just be scrapped for parts."

Dell replies dryly to the pat down, "And you didn't even buy me dinner first." She's not bleeding air, but there is a slow trickle of blood that's reached her lips, her tongue poised at the corner of it to lick it off before it hits the sensors at her chin. "But I'll let you take me home." She gives a bit of a nod to Thane as she clamps a glove on his suit, secure in knowing she has her own grip in case one fails on the way back to the Raptor.

"Appreciate it," chimes Bran in turn. He briefly smiles and then returns to his general feeling of displeasure and sickly sweet anticipation. At his right side, he holds up a thumb's up. There's a good chance that Rourke is not actually looking in his direction and so has to pipe up with a verbal answer, too, confirming that Dell's recovery is currently golden and going along swimmingly. His tone is denser and a lot terser than necessary, or his usual. "They're incoming now. Need medical on stand-by still." Not to mention that probably-definite casualty in the background.

Switching back over to the shortwave as Rourke considers for a moment. "Thane, how's our passenger?" he asks, letting the Crewman decide if the Raptor can wait for a recovery team to get immediate attention to Dell, or if she can wait for a bit longer.

"Well, I like to move fast. I'll offer you a drink after our little romp, eh?" Thane notes. "Really? Well then, my lucky day, it's not ever day I can pick up women. So…what're ya up to? Just hangin out?" If he notes the blood, he doesn't say anything. No need to panic, and the air will last only so long. "She'll need a look over by medical, but she's plucky as ever, sir." he coms back to Rourke. "I think we're having our first date right now, and I forgot to bring a flower. "I'd rather bring her in ASAP though, don't know much air she's got and I don't want to take any chances. I don't see any leaks, but I'd rather make sure that's not an issue." So he'll bring her in first, and then take the tow line out to the Raptor.

"Yeah, I thought it was nice out, so why not go for a walk. You know. Clear my head. Just wouldn't grab my ass, unless it's mission warranted. You know. If you favor where your nose is currently on your face. And can you please stop saying 'leak'." Dell responds dryly over the link as they make progression back to the Raptor hatch, her free hand already reaching out in anticipation of catching it.

"I'm going to shoot you," comments Bran after some point of listening to the backs and forths. The trick is not to attach a name on the comment. He's more or less simply standing there though and looks behind them, around, and then balls his hands into fists. Timing. He's been counting. His hand relaxes and with their reaching out he steps forward and holds out his right hand in preparation of catching Dell.

"Nah, I only start groping on the second date. Otherwise, you have to ask. And no kissing on the lips unless you ask me first." Thane replies in kind, half pulling/carrying her back to the Raptor, grabbing onto a handhold next to the door and helping guide her into the vehicle. "Pulling her in now, sir." he comms. "Gonna head back on out with the tow line here once she's situated." He'll let Bran take over for the Dell-handling duties once he's sure she's gonna be safe. That done, he'll go under the Raptor, disengaging the tow line from the underside, and then moving back out to attach it to the damaged one.

<FS3> Bran rolls Reaction: Success.
<FS3> Thane rolls Reaction: Good Success.

"This may be the best soap opera I've seen since the war started, but can we go ahead and get to the happy climax so that I can get us home sometime before we all run out of Oh-2?" Rourke asks with a sigh as he waits for the recovery efforts to be done, attempting to keep the Raptor steady in the process.

And the comms click on. "Shaft, Actual. We're waiting, over." For that status update. Someone up there is having a Day.

"Actual, Shaft, we're having some complications, over. Wait one." Rourke responds, before switching over again. "Can you stop with the pussyfooting and get her on-board already?"

Dell's hand clamps onto to Bran's, finding the grip more than sufficient to haul her into the depressurized ship. She purely uses his momentum to do so, tired by the time she floats into the Raptor's interior despite the fact it seemed like she did little in the rescue itself. For a long time she just looks at her husband through the domes of their respective helmets. Then without words she's clamping onto Bear in the most awkward hug of mankind.

"Keep your panties on, sir, I'm getting to it." Thane comms back, flying out in the emptiness between the pair of Raptors. And he has to dodge a decent amount of debris that's floating around, all of which could be unfortunate if it were to sever his line. He'd rather not do a untethered spacewalk. Reaching the crashed Raptor, he takes a moment to inspect the damage from where he is. And he will make sure the other passenger that didn't make it out is indeed dead. Not a good way to go. That done, he moves around to the back of it, pushing larger pieces out of the way before hooking the tow line to a metal ring, which likely was put there for situations like this. "We're all good over here, sir. Just let me get back to the ship before we start to pull."

As great as Bran's threats are, he doesn't reach for his sidearm and attempt homicide. He's too busy attempting to wrap fingers around Dell's incoming forearm but it's awkward because her hand finds his first. It works though. He hauls her in, properly, and gets to look down at her as Thane returns outside for the Raptor. Someone's asking for a sit-rep on the woman's status. "Hi," he tells her. She hugs him. With an arm around her, he turns his head to the fore of the Raptor. "Impatience doesn't fit you, Shaft. She's fine. Getting the frame now." Back to his wife, "Good to sit and relax- right here." He's going to attempt to guide her along into not standing about.

"Oh, I have the patience of a saint. Ask Actual if they like being patient." Rourke responds as he gestures to the co-pilot's chair. "Grab a seat, Short Stack. Soon as Thane's back on board, we're sealing up for the trip. And welcome to Orion."

"Don't tell me what to do unless it's an Order." The hug becomes short-lived, but that's the extent of Dell's grousing at Bran before she does what he said and maneuvers herself into the seat offered by Rourke. With a stiffness, she's buckling herself into the harness. "Just don't try to take the short cut like the last guy." And so Short Stack's gloved fist juts out to the side, waiting for a bump from Shaft.

"I missed you too." The ECO leaves his response at that and watches after Dell for a long time before dragging his attention back outside, to make certain Thane doesn't die, or need his help, or die while needing his help. At least Bran trusts the guy.

"I wasn't serious!" Thane remarks to Dell over the comm. "But I'll still take that pack of smokes. That's legit." he adds, shoving himself away from the wreck once the tow line is set and affixed. It doesn't take him all that long to get back onto the ship, pulling in his own line with it. "Okay, I'm back in. We can the thing now. Should be good to go."

Rourke takes a moment to give Dell a light 'dap' of fists before his hand returns to the controls, watching the goings on in the rearview for the cue to finally getting everyone get settled. "Buckle up." he sends as he seals the Raptor closed once Thane is within, and starts to gently nudge the craft forward to pull the tow-line taut and start to tug the damaged bird to hangar.

<FS3> Rourke rolls Piloting: Good Success.

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