AWD #443: Need All the Help We Can Get
Need All the Help We Can Get
Summary: After a CAP and before an Alert-Five, pilots converge on Hangar Bay.
Date: 07/09/2016
Related Logs: None Known
Pearson Alex Elena Bennett Silver Agrippa 
Hangar Bay
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. 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.
AWD #443 - Sat. March 25, 2006

The hangar is buzzing with the prep for a CAP shift. Deckhands in yellow jumpsuits await incoming craft and the orange jumpsuited knuckledraggers are out doing pre-flight checks and some minor adjustements on the next birds going into rotation. Alex has the handle of a pair of wirecutters in her mouth as she quickly finishes repairing a faulty connection to a safety light in a raptor cockpit.

Sweating the approach to the Battlestar, as always, Pearson guides the viper into the final approach and remembers ALWAYS to keep off of the channel while she invests emphasis into select words like they're genuine swear words. Or entire phrases. Some end up as minor or not minor paragraphs, which is why she keeps off the channel. Landing the viper is, for this Ensign, a feat that makes her sigh with relief once she pops the hatch, tugs her gloves off and works on the helmet all in one step by step move and takes a loud breath, paired with a wry grin, as she begins her post flight checklist.

A klaxxon goes off around the hangar bay to indicate an incoming patrol. The fleet-footed vipers are usually first to land, with the raptor lumbering in some moments later. The noise is not for the faint of heart; there's a good reason most technicians work with a pair of earmuffs close at hand. Once the roar of the bus's twin engines spools down, and the VTOL nozzles are retracted, the hatch is popped. "..given any thought to what you might wish to specialise in?" Bennett's unbuckling her harness while she converses with her copilot, who in truth was given the controls for the entirety of the patrol. "Raptors are the most diverse airframe we fly in the Fleet. You will need to gain proficiency in all configurations, though there is usually one that each pilot prefers."

Elena pops her helmet, finally able to scratch her godsdamned itchy nose. "I like the ones that are armed to the eyeballs," she admits, grinning fiendishly. Some of her fiery hair had managed to come loose, plastered to her forehead with uncomfortable suit-sweat. She pushes it behind her ear. "I, uh, am thinking about going for the Survival Officer qual, also. And there's something I want to talk you you about, privately, at… at some point," she adds softly to the end.

New to Orion, freshly transferred in from Picon, LTJG Rebecca Silver is alighting from her own Viper, peeling down the zipper of her flight suit from her first CAP with Orion. "Nothing happening out there at least," she flashes a grin, starting her own post flight list as well. Hearing the Raptor, she turns and watches its arrival before going back to her list.

About 10 seconds before the klaxxon sounds, a little digital beep goes off and Alex lifts the black muffes from her neck up onto her ears. She grabs her portable heatgun from her waste and fires it up. The sound is not unline some low powered hair dryer, but it's drowned out by the blare of the klaxxon soon after. After some brief application of focused heat on the wiring sleeve to shrink it, she makes quick work of testing out her work and then closing the panel. The heat gun then goes back in a loop in her tool belt before she jumps out onto the deck.

Checking off the list, one item at a time, Pearson jots down any glitches that are relevant before she climbs down out of the viper, helmet carried in one hand, gloves tucked into the now unzipped flight suit, and lands lightly on the deck with knees bent to absorb the impact. She pats one hand on the hull of the viper, doing a slow walk around to inspect the viper with as much intensity post flight as pre flight and only then does she look around to see who to return the check list too. Spotting another of the newest arrivals, an answering smile forming on her face. "Aye, glad for a quiet patrol, saves on the adrenaline rush for the important moments."

"Foxtrots," St. Clair translates, with an easy smile as she pops off her helmet. Her own hair is half plastered to her skull, half sticking out every which way from its sloppy bun. "Yes, the gunships are a popular choice." Mention of the qualification she wants to pursue gains nod, and the request for privacy a slightly raised brow. "I see." There's an assessing sort of look in those blue, blue eyes, though she doesn't pry. For now. "Ensign Pearson and.. Lieutenant Silver, correct?" Post-flight checklist in hand, she addresses the two viper pilots cordially, though not without warmth.

Elena cants her head. "Foxtrots?" she asks, hopping out of the Raptor. The young Raptor pilot grins at Silver and Pearson. "Hey! I heard there were some new Viper jocks," she says, trotting over with her helmet under one arm. She turns that grin to Alex with a wave. "I didn't break this one, I swear."

Alex isn't eager to go retrieve the pilots' checklists. It certainly isn't supposed to be her duty today, but after she stows her wirecutters in her belt, she pulls her muffs down to her neck as she walks over to Pearson while looking mildly annoyed. Course that could just be her resting face. "I'll take that." She nods to the checklist.

Once out, the flight suit is completely unzipped to her waist and Silver just lets it hang there for the moment as she looks over to the Ensign, "I agree," she gives an easy smile, "There's been a lot of those important moments lately." At the greeting, she offers a salute, "Yes, Lieutenant Junior Grade, indeed, it's great to be on Orion. So glad to meet you." A wave is given to Elena as well.

"Aye, sir," Pearson replies and tips a precise nod at St. Clair and then equally around to Silver, Elena then hands over the checklist to the chief, "I didn't break anything either. Though one of the gages appears to be a bit unreliable, I flagged it on the check list," she adds.

"Ensign Heron." The pilot's name is spoken with just enough bite to make it clear that she's not fooling around. Bennett holds the checklist out to the wandering off redhead, with a perked brow for emphasis. "Whomever flies, does the paperwork. I have a training roster to fill out, besides; come and find me when you are done, and we can.. talk?"

"Paperwork. Right. Me. Paperwork." Ellie wrinkles her nose, suitably chastised, and takes the clipboard. She grabs a pen and leans back against the bird, checking tickyboxes.

Alex grabs the checklist and then holds the first page up. Icy blue eyes peek at the second page, "Right. We'll take a look." Her accent is Caprica City all the way, and not the nicer parts. "Anyone else want to hand in their checklists before I go tear some Deckhand a new one?" she lifts Pearson's checklist in the air and waggles it as she shifts her weight to one foot.

Bennett tugs her flight suit's zipper down to her waist, to permit the layered tanks underneath to breathe, and tucks her helmet under one arm as she flashes Silver a smile. "We need all the help we can get, as far as viper sticks go. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant." The salute is waved off, and the poor deckhand that's ended up on checklist collection duty is given a wink as she heads off.

Silver looks towards the Captain and widens her eyes a little at the touch of a bite to the words. Automatically, her hands tighten around her own paperwork. No chance she's giving this baby up at all. A few more items are checked off and she finishes the post flight before hitching up the flight suit that's loose around her waist as she moves. Likewise, her own accent is Caprica City, perhaps the nicer parts though. Once her own list is finished, she offers it over. A smile given to the departing Captain. "Glad to be here!" She calls after her.

"I'd be happy to lend a hand," Pearson offers after a careful moment of consideration, "I've learned the specs on the Viper," she hastily adds. "And the general over all maintenance of. I'd like more hands on time, if that wouldn't get in the way." She glances from face to face as she speaks, wearing a look that is a blur of amiable and curious at the same time.

Another Viper jock shows up to the party though this one doesn't appear to be dressed for a festive occasion. Agrippa is in his flightsuit, helmet already tucked under his arm when he enters the hangar bay, a purpose to his stride. Those who check the Viper schedule would have seen that this particular fighter pilot is scheduled for his Alert Five slot in a bit, his arrival apparently early. Earlier than most who have this rather boring duty assigned to them. Eyes looking for his Viper, Punchdrunk's gaze looks over to a gaggle of other pilots and a Deckie in the middle of them.

Alex is collecting a checklist when notices the wink from the Captain. She furrows her brow, causing her to miss Silver's list handoff for a moment. She looks down and takes it, offering a lackluster grin before moving on. She's not completely dour, just not one of those chipper beings who shoots out moonbeams and rainbows.

Pearson juggles the helmet for a moment then, before she waits for the chief to reply, she hustles off the deck, tugging at the flight suit to extract herself from it along the way.

Without a callsign, she simply goes by Silver, and it's always what everyone calls her. Once the list is handed off, she nods to Alex, recognizing her solemnity but not commenting on it. Leaning against her own Viper, she checks out the bay area, a nod to the newest arrival.

Agrippa's assigned Viper is not too far from Silver's Viper, apparently where the small group was congregated though most of the pilots have dispersed. Each step Punchdrunk takes in his boots makes a heavy thud as he makes his way down the row of Vipers towards his, nodding a greeting to both Alex and Silver on the way. His own is two Vipers down, not too far away and so far, it looks like there isn't anyone tending to it jsut yet, since Agrippa is early.

Alex only realizes that Pearson was talking to her after no one else responds to the pilot. She lifts the checklists to bounce them off her forehead and then shakes her head. Then she heads off to distribute the checklists amongst the floating Deckhands, finishing the job of someone who must have ducked out sick without getting someone to fill their duties. That's the best she could hope for, but at least the Chief doesn't just pawn the duty off on someone else.

Excited about being on Orion, Silver bounces a little on the balls of her feet. "I'm new here." Miss Obvious here. "Lieutenant Junior Grade Rebecca Silver," she introduces herself with an easy smile, friendly but not flirty. "Are you about to head out?" There's a glance to Alex as she hands over her own paperwork, but she doesn't linger. Instead, she starts walking over towards Agrippa's Viper. "Have you named her yet?"

Slowing to a stop on his way to his Viper, Agrippa looks over to the newly transferred pilot who appears to be following him to make the introductions, "Lieutenant Junior Grade Alexander Agrippa, callsign is Punchdrunk. For not at least." Pete's Naming is coming up in a week or so, and he is most likely going to be throwing his name in the hat for a new callsign to be assigned to him. "Welcome to the Orion, Leftenant Silver. No CAP for me, on Alert-Five duty. But with the recent developments, who knows, I may get scrambled." He then begins walking again, assuming that the new Viper stick will be following as he answers her second question, "Nah, haven't named her. Don't want to get /too/ attached to these birds, with all the action we've been seeing." Plus, it wouldn't be surprising for scuttlebutt around the Deckies that this particular Viper jock tends to bring his bird back pretty banged up. There was a period of a couple of months when he was transferred to Crandall, where the mechanics had a sigh of relief, but he's back now.

"Leftenant." Silver muses over that one after the introduction. "Thank you, Punchdrunk, I've not been on here long, went on my first CAP today." She nods about the Alert-Five, consider it. "If you ever want to practice on the sims, let me know. I need all of the practice I can get." With a tilt of her head, she queries, "So, for now? Are you changing your callsign?" She does follow along curious. "I've not named mine yet either, but I may come up with something." She points out her own with a measure of pride in her voice. "I love her already."

The offer of sim time has Agrippa nodding slightly, not one to turn down the opportunity when there is free time to do so, especially if she is a new transfer to his squadron, the Lucky Strikes. "Yeah, I'm planning to have the others decide on a new one for me. This one I got pretty early when I first joined the Orion, a few weeks after War Day, sort of forgotten the details on how so I thought it's time for a new one." There is a pause before glancing at Silver's Viper and smirks, shaking his head, "So where were you based before transferring to the Orion? Have a lot of Viper flight hours logged?" He asks as they reach his Viper, going through the visual inspection slowly as he chats.

For sure she's in the Lucky Strikes, and Silver already has it on her flight suit. Though at the moment it's around her waist and she's wearing a white under shirt, modest in cut. "It sounds like an interesting callsign. Most people call me Sterling," she rolls her eyes, "Not very creative, I'm afraid. Just a play on my last name. So are you looking for something shorter then?" When he looks at hers, she glances over affectionately. "I was on Picon for the longest time, but originally from Caprica City, in the beginning. Just so glad to be on a Battlestar instead of planet side, though we've got a lot of action in the not so distant past." As he inspects, she remains in step with him. "What about you? Where were you before here?"

"Shorter maybe, something more… dangerous sounding? My first one was pretty good, despite the fact the reason for the naming is not what most would expect." Agrippa says with a smirk again as he recalls the days before the Cylons decided to make their reappearance. "Caprica City? I'm from there as well." Punchdrunk says as he pauses in his Viper inspection to look back towards Silver, "Attended CFA there, flight school at CFAB Nike, and was assigned to the Battlestar Valkyrie as a nugget."

Lips twist in wry amusement. "Nugget. Wasn't so long ago I remember being called that myself." Silver's eyes light up and she bobs her head in an enthusiastic nod. "Caprica City yeah. That's pretty cool. I did the same, flight school, though I went to Picon shortly after, instead of a Battlestar. Glad to be on the Orion now, but it's a lot different than being planet-side. Have you served on a Battlestar then since you were assigned the first time?"

Shaking his head, Agrippa returns to the Viper inspection, "Only two, the Valkyrie until the Cylons hit Caprica. From there, I came to the Orion when they rescued me over Virgon, adrift on a civilian transport." That should make for an interesting story on how a nugget went from a Battlestar to a civilian transport. "And I agree, I think if I had a choice of postings, I would pick this Battlestar over being landlocked. I was briefly transferred to Crandall to help set up the new Air Wing there."

Interested, Silver listens, paying attention so that when he mentions being rescued from a civilian transport, the question lights in her eyes even before it is voiced. Going for tactful, she gives a curious bit of a smile before she dives right in. "How did you go from being.." Then she hesitates uncertainly and with a rueful grin, finishes. "How did you go from being on a Battlestar to a civilian transport?" A nod given in regards to Crandall, but she doesn't overload him with another question yet.

That question will not be answered, at least right now as Agrippa grins while continuing his walk around the Viper, "That will be a story for another time, Leftenant. Either over a few drinks or if we're stranded behind enemy lines, trying to pass the time while our ride comes to get us." As he talks, he is mentally checking off items on the checklist, a Deckie now coming by with a ladder so he can climb into his cockpit. "Did you fly mainly Preds while on Picon?"

Silver tries to hide the crestfallen look she wears as soon as he declines to give the story over without there being extenuating circumstances. It even works fairly well. "Then I'll have to buy you a drink or two.. or you could tell me over a game of Pyramid or something? I'm definitely not looking to be behind enemy lines waiting for a pickup." Flashing him a sly smile, "I don't even know if you know how to play Pyramid though, so that may not be a fair game." With the question directed at her, she bobs her head up and down. "A few, but I prefer the Viper. My Viper." Indicating it again with a jerk of her thumb towards it.

"Find me a pilot who can't play Pyramid and I'll tell you that he or she isn't going to be much of an ace." Words spoken most likely in jest but also with a touch of pride as he finishes his visual inspect just as the Deckie that is assigned to help Agrippa with his pre-flight checklist. With the ladder pushed up against the side of the open cockpit, Punchdrunk tells the deckie what he already inspected before looking back to Silver, "Your Viper? Did you transfer over with your bird from Picon?" That is something that Agrippa never considered, people with their own Vipers, at least being that close to their fighters.

Silver waits as he does the visual inspection, realizing the importance of it. When he finishes though, or when he speaks again, she chuckles softly. "I happen to agree with that assessment," she feints shooting and gives him a curious grin. "So, is it a deal? Pyramid or a drink or something? Someone mentioned something down planet, somewhere to catch a game and a drink. I don't wanna step on anyone's toes or anything, just a friendly game and all." She gives her Viper an affectionate look. "Just assigned to me earlier, for the CAP. Had to leave the old one behind for someone else. I guess I get attached easily."

"That would be Charlie's, I haven't been down there since I've transferred back, but I am sure we can find a few other Viper sticks for a get together." Agrippa says with a nod of agreement, looking back to the Deckie for a moment as a quick question is tossed at him, one that he answers in an even quicker fashion. Then he looks back to Silver, nodding his head, "Attached or not, make sure you pull the ejection handle when you need to, Leftenant." The Deckie then tells Punchdrunk that he can hop in so he can begin his Alert Five shift. With a thumbs up to the young man, Agrippa glances back to the newly arrived pilot, "Well, I should head into the cockpit, good meeting you. I'm sure we'll be flying together soon."

"Perfect! I met an Ensign earlier, I'd like her to come along. A friendly game, some drinks. Moral boost and all that." Silver falls silent as he speaks with the deckie then at the advice, she gives a solemn nod. "You betcha. Life is more valuable than a machine, I get that." Then it's time for his duty and she steps back, "Nice meeting you too. Best of luck out there. Catch you later." With a brief wave, she turns on her heel and heads back to her Viper just a moment, then directs her step towards the more internal areas of the Orion.

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