MD #049: No Smoking On Deck
MD #049 - No Smoking On Deck
Summary: Log Summary
Date: 27/May/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None
Lleufer Melissa Jacob Leander 
Randy Diaz Clara Terrence 
Hangar Bay - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
Each hangar deck is divided into five one-hundred yard sections, each divided from the others by massive blast doors that close vertically from the floor and overhead. Each hangar section houses all of the Vipers, Raptors, and Predators that the wing operates as well as the vital work areas to support and maintain these fighting platforms. Each bay is large enough to accommodate one of these frames and still get heavy work done, though the fore- and aft-most sections are dedicated to overhauls and major work to be done. The bays along the center section are located across from launch tubes and elevators in order to provide scramble and Alert-Five capabilities. The second-to-aft bay provides major elevator and transport access to the starboard bay as well as the major manufacturing facility. Above each bay and within are a trio of small red firefighting balls that will explode on too much heat being exposed. Due to the nature of the work, the hangar decks are major hubs of activity at all hours of the day and all but four hours overnight. 
12/Dec/2028 (IC Date)

A "day" aboard the Battlestar Orion is a relative term, given that there is no rising or setting sun to mark the passage of time. Staggered work schedules also do little to set apart day from night, with personnel being on and off duty at different points from day to day and from week to week. Today is no different than any other and the hangar bay is a swarm of activity born of protocol and habit as the deck personnel rush about on the ground, while pilots are busy climbing into their ships and performing pre-flight system checks. 
The orders had been given. A simple out and about flight drill to practice some new maneuvers and flight patterns in ship and out of simulators while in a moment of relative peace is on the list of to-do's today, and the monotony of the daily grind is present on most of the deck personnel's faces as they assist the pilots with necessary checks as well as clearing the bay of foreign objects to ready for low power engine start. By all appearances, it is just another day of the same stuff done the day before… and the day before… and the day before. 

The Raptor Captain has been cleared back for flight duty and she's decided to ease back into it. The urge to jump into a Predator and go hit some targets is strong, but setting the example for Melissa's crews is also a pain in the ass. She's in her flightsuit with helmet bag and doing the initial pre-flight walkaround on a Raptor in a bay. Covers are lazily pulled from the intakes, her hand gripping each cowling and giving the nacelles a sturdy shake to make sure there's nothing loose. Nope, not interested in ejecting again so soon. 

No longer limping around with a bum foot, and after she'd walked past the Predator that she damaged during the last combat ops, Diaz is going over the Viper she's been assigned to for this training run, checking for any hull damage that might've been missed in the last inspection. Diaz is not at all adverse to climbing around, over, under, and getting dusty or a bit begrimed is actually part of the fun. She'd tossed her helmet into the viper cockpit so as to keep both hands free and has a clip board in one hand and a pen in the other while she marks her way down the list. 

CAP, it's a thing. As the shift change has come, pilots are about to come in and pilots are preparing to go out. Captain Idris Bloodfeather has arrived in his flight suit carrying his helmet. A small light bandage graces his neck mostly on the left side and wraps around the front of his throat to keep the flight suit from rubbing and chafing at stitches and new healing flesh. His dark complextion has finally normalized and by the glint in his black eyes, he's a man very much glad to be alive when he thought surely his dying had been likely. He glances around the hangar, 'Vogue' slightly alters his direction to intercept the model Ten, "Diaz." His voice is yet a little raspy and lacking volume. Shouting would still be a bad idea for a little while yet. The Captain stops near to her air frame while she's doing her inspection and watches her for a moment. A near by Raptor draws his attention as a woman moves around it. Belatedly he realizes it's Melissa. She too is observed to see how she's doing. 

Well, there's a first time for everything and the first time in an actual bus with one of the Orion pilots might as well be on a practice run, right? So Jacob is dutifully out in his flight suit, helmet and clipboard tucked under his arm as he trots his way across the deck. Spying the Captain already checking her bus out, but not seeing the pilot at the Raptor on his clipboard, the larger male shrugs, tosses his helmet lightly inside the open hatch of 'his' craft, and unlimbers the clipboard to read off the first page and start walking around the bird, muttering, "Air pressure intake doesn't like Picon air…what the hell?" 
Leander is on patrol. Returning from checking the munitions stores with his partner, the two Marines are making their way back through the hangar bay when the Private's buddy remembers something. The senior Marine goes back to re-check the stores they just left, and this leaves Leander waiting in the hangar for him to return. And so the Marine kicks back by the wall, staying well out of way and observing the hustle and bustle of the Deck at work. Serving aboard a Battlestar is a new and interesting experience for the young MP. Always something new to see. 
Randy hops down from a Raptor that just arrived from shuttling up people from Piraeus. "I should swing by the enlisted barracks to put up an announcement about Charlie's yeah?" She looks back to track the Three as she stretches her arms out casually. Really? The flight is not that long. "It's always weird when ship time doesn't match up with Sheridan time right?" she muses at the phenomenon idily while scanning the Hangar deck. 

The flight deck is, as would be assumed, a general mess of swirling activity. Terrence Yates is there, dressed in his orange deck coveralls. He has a fuel hose slung over his shoulder and is dragging it along from a reel on the port side wall. Space is cramped on the flight deck when so many ships are still in need of repair from recent combat, and other birds are being maneuvered out into the open space for current missions. As such, when Terrence is struggling with his length of hose, he does not see the Senior MP officer heading back to check on the munitions supply, bumping into the man and cursing as he stumbles to the floor. He grumbles under his breath, looking over his shoulder to make sure that the MP has moved on past before he begins cursing the man beneath his breath. That frustration does not play out before he makes it to the Viper in need of refueling, signaling to the pilot in the cockpit that he is going to hook up before jacking the hose into the fuel fill of the Viper and signaling back to the Deck Crewman manning the fuel levers. 

Clara climbs off the raptor shortly after Randy, fresh from a night of shore leave and dressed in civvies. She has a duffle bag slung across her shoulder, and looks to be in good spirits. "Sounds good. Hope you can find a time that doesn't conflict too badly with duty shifts. Always sucks to be the guy who's left out every time because he's on watch." 

Melissa looks over to see Vogue and she looks at him, holding there for a moment. There's no intense staring, just a blank expression. The pilot's head and neck have a red and pink splotchiness to it where she's still recovering from the frostbite but she otherwise seems to be recovering well. Her gaze does eventually drift down and away, then looking to Jacob, then back to her own Raptor. She moves around to check the fuel tanks under the winglets and gives each one a shake as well. 

Jacob reaches up to scratch his head as he reads something else off the clipboard, then ducks down and looks under the Raptor, by the nose gear. He reaches up into the wheelwell and tugs on something *HARD*, putting his weight into it, back and forth. Finally he stops and grunts, "Huh. Okay." and scribbles an acknowledgement and lumbers back to his feet, resuming his walk around. Not quite as fast as one of the Wing who's been here awhile, but new assignment…he'll learn. At least the huge amount of activity going on around in close quarters doesn't seem to be distracting him. 

Scooting out from beneath the viper that she's checking over, and only after she's checked the landing apparatus several times to assuage a healthy amount of 'just in case' pre-flight routines that she always goes through and smiles up at Idris as she dusts herself off. "Captain, you got your voice back," a bit of captain obvious herself with her reply but she sounds pleased that he isn't having to write down everything he needs to communicate. "Though, if you'd needed to, you could've pulsed binary one letter at a time," not -actually- conveying the first half of the thought aloud then backtracking, slightly, verbally, "Er. That is. If you hadn't regained your voice then you'd have had an alternate method of communication," there's the rest before she exhales. "Glad to have you back with us," she sums up and smooths the rumpled piece of paper on the clipboard with one hand before she uses the same hand to wave at Melissa, the normally ebullient Ten is back to her normal self. 

"Aye. True. But I bet I can massage schedules a little bit." Just how is Randy going to do that? Knowing her, it has something to do with a little greasing of the palms. She smiles confidently at the Three and watches the whirling Deck activity like she's about to cross the pit of hot lava. "There's one time I think will take the least finagling." She gestures towards a spot along the areas they can take as it opens up for a brief few moments and starts off, eyes still distracted by all the activity. She spots Melissa and lifts a hand to wave to the Captain as she walks, possibly not getting her attention. 
The Raptor Captain is watched. Bloodfeather gives Melissa a slight nod with a barely there, almost smile starting. Except for her rather blank expression. That kills his smile and causes him to watch his fellow Captain all the more closely for a long moment until she's returned to her own work. Hmmm. Nothing is said. A Deckie comes up and hands 'Vogue' a clipboard with his preflight checklist on it, "Thank you." Diaz draws his attention back and she gets a faint nod, "Some what, yes." Scratchy yet. "I could have been fitted with a voice syn-thesizer." He speaks carefully and keeps his low so not to strain his throat. "See you shortly on CAP." Bloodfeather taps his clipboard lightly and moves along to where his own viper is berthed. He climbs up to set his helmet into the cockpit, then starts to walk around his own air frame to start going through his craft's checklist. A flicker of his dark eyes glance down the line to see that his other Lucky Strikes pilots are doing the same. 

Seeing his partner bump into a Deckie, Leander winces and prepares for a potential problem. But there's no huge outburst and the Private relaxes a little. He may be new to the ship, but the Private has been told to stay out of the way on the Deck. He shoots the senior MP a quizzical look, then shrugs. "Moving on, Corporal?" he waits for the man to get closer and respond, but is ready to continue their rounds. 

Terrence watches as the line charges and begins funneling fuel from the supply reservoir to the Viper before him. Drawing back from the bird, his eyes drift back toward the crewman monitoring the gauges. A few minutes pass, and soon the signal is given for a full tank and the supply shut off. Terrence begins the process of unscrewing coupling from Viper and offers the pilot a smile up and nod as he pulls the line free of the bird. 

A few things happen at once. The first being that the particular pilot Terrence had been busy refilling apparently took his smile and nod as a signal for being clear to begin engine power up. She leans forward, toggling on power circuitry and then reaching forward presses the large button to bring the engines online. Though in low power, the whirling of the jet engine can still be heard as the bird powers up…. along with a briefly loud clanging. Terrence has just enough time to turn his head in that direction and take one step toward the rear of the Viper when a sudden explosion tears the rear of the jet apart. Shards of metal fly vertically and outward toward the other ships nearby as a sudden gout of flame leaps skyward and blows out of the back of the ship, funneled by what remains of the engine shroud. Terrence himself is lifted from the deck and hurled backward, the fuel line snapping from his hand to slap to the deck. 

There are few fears that are more visceral than fire, and even more intense is the fear of fire, in enclosed and pressured compartments. The only way that fear is upped to the next level is to have all of that, in space. Diaz's fear of fire is precisely along those lines, and it's enough to make the Ten back pedal fast enough from the ecpienter of the gout of glance and explosion that she damn near trips over the ladder of the viper that was getting ready next to hers, a blank look of terror briefly on her face while the rest of her brain tries to catch up, hoping muscle memory and training will kick in before the fight-flight instinct gets out of hand. "FIRE," is gasped out, like no one else has noticed, and it's the second time that's much louder, "FIRE!" and she puts every ounce of volume behind that one word that she can before casting about, left then right, for the nearest fire suppressant station. 

Melissa slips around the side of the Raptor, walking around the nose as she looks at the sensors. Everything looks fine. She doesn't touch the lenses, but she does peer at them. The sound of a Viper starting up is just background noise and nothing to take notice of, but the clanging in it grabs her attention. She frowns and looks up the deck and tilts her head. Then there's an explosion, which is probably the last thing she expected. hearing it thud and roar, then the sight of flames and smoke, she isn't blown off her feet but she does stumble back a little. Looking back to Idris, then to the fire, she turns and runs towards teh fire but ends up stopping two bays short and reaches inside for one of the phones. Picking it up, she stabs buttons. The handle is held in place against her shoulder while she digs her helmet out. Air tight is going to be a bit important here. 

<FS3> Idris rolls 1: Failure. 
<FS3> Randy rolls Avoiding Getting Hit By Shrapnel: Failure. 
<FS3> Clara rolls Avoid Shrapnel: Failure. 
<FS3> Jacob rolls Please Avoid Shrapnel I Promised To Last Longer Than Evans: Failure. 
<FS3> Leander rolls Avoid Shrapnel: Success.


As if Diaz had to shout. The explosion and concussive force of the flast is enough to knock people off of their feet and rip through the hangars like a thunder clap sent by the Gods! Captain Idris Bloodfeather has the misfortune of being on the wrong side of his viper and too close to the blast. Not thankfully close enough to be killed, but he's thrown hard against his air frame and knocked silly! The clipboard was ripped from his hand and sent flying and might well zip past anyone else's head like a lethal weapon along with other debris. Dazed and stunned but not aware of being seriously hurt, 'Vogue' at once tries to grab hold of his craft to drag himself up. His entire viper had shuddered and skidded several feet on the deck, leaving scraped deck plating. "PILOTS! SEAL YOUR SUITS!" Gods, that hurts his throat! Bloodfeather does his best to get up onto his craft and grab his helmet before he's going to try to help. If the Orion ends up having to vent the hangar to space… you bet your ass he's putting his helmet on and flipping open his channel. 

<FS3> Diaz rolls Avoid Flying Clipboard: Failure.


[Into the Wireless]  The phone in CIC rings. 
The MPs regroup and are just turning to continue their rounds. Neither of the Marines is watching the refueling work, or sees the accident happen. And thus the explosion is a complete surprise, knocking them both to the deck. "Fraaaaakkk…" Leander groans as he starts to pick himself up. He blinks and shakes his head, momentarily dazed. Then he realizes what's happened, and the kid's eyes go wide. OH FRAK! The Private starts to clamber to his feet, but notices his partner isn't doing the same. "Come on, Corp, we gotta …" The Corporal is suspiciously still given what's happened, and Leander reaches to jostle downed man. "Hey, you okay?" 
Clara looks amused at Randy's confident smile. It's her platoon, so shifting some schedules around really shouldn't be a huge issue. As a path opens up across the deck, she starts forward- and then there's an ominous clang as one of the buses' engines spools up, followed by a FWHOOMP of something igniting in a hurry. Instinct kicks in immediately, and she grabs Randy by the arm and hauls her down to the deck. It's fast, but it isn't fast enough to prevent a few shards of engine cowling from slicing up her shoulder and hip. And the dress was brand new, to boot. A fire extinguisher is spotted, and she climbs back to her feet and sprints toward it. 

[Into the Wireless] Idris says, "Orion Actual, Vogue! We have an explosion in Hangar, section C3!"

Jacob has a hand on the wing and is about to haul himself up to climb into the raptor and begin checking the backseater systems when the wet sound of a fuel explosion rips the Viper open and erupts into a fireball. The blastwave is enough to knock him down onto the wing with a grunt, clipboard flying, while he narrowly avoids getting decapitated by a jagged piece of flying metal that sails through the air his neck had just been in before he got knocked down. It doesn't prevent him catching several other smaller bits in his arm and leg and…well, that might be a little tender sitting down for a while. A few choice words are growled out as he tries to struggle to his feet, scrambling into the Raptor with a loud 'OW!' and stopping to yank out a piece of doomed Viper out of his rump. With his suit holed, if theres the threat of voiding the flight deck, he at least knows there's one solution, while he tries to struggle to his feet. 

[Into the Wireless] Melissa says, "Fire, fire, fire. Port flight pod, section Charlie, bay Three. This is not an exercise." 

Randy hears the odd sound first. She tilts her head and then her eyes widen quickly. Just as she's about to move towards her fellow Marine, Randy find's Clara's already grabbed her arm and pulls her down to the deck. The motion causes her to fall off of a pivot, luckily angling her face away from the blast as bits of twisted metal shoot through the air. One piece of shrapnel thuds into her her arm and something smaller in her side. With adrenaline pumping, she scrambles onto her back and squints her eyes against the fire as she resists pulling the two inch wide metal sticking out of her upper arm. 

<FS3> Jacob rolls Alertness: Good Success. 
<FS3> Diaz rolls Alertness: Success. 
<FS3> Melissa rolls Alertness: Good Success. 
<FS3> Clara rolls Alertness: Failure. 
<FS3> Randy rolls Alertness: Good Success. 
<FS3> Leander rolls Alertness: Success.


The forward momentum of panic (which really translates to perpetual motion, if unchecked) is truncated abruptly when she gets smacked upside the head with the edge of a flying clipboard. Briefly stunned, Diaz has a moment of clarity, because getting smacked upside the head will do that. Vogue's words, harsh as they are, carry over the sound of the fire and the chaos that erupts around the edges. She ducks around the viper nearest her and bolts back for the viper she'd tossed her helmet into and climbs up the side of it long enough to snag her helmet then cram it on over her head, working the seals as she lands on her feet with a bit of a skid after sliding down the side of the viper again. Never let it be said that she didn't stick that landing, either. She orients herself with one hand on the viper, fixes on the nearest fire extinguisher in her line of sight, and pours on a burst of speed as she runs for it. 

<FS3> Idris rolls Alertness: Good Success.


Clara keeps sprinting toward the fire extinguisher, which suddenly seems a lot further away than she initially thought. 

Melissa is holding her helmet in one hand and talking to someone on the other end. She sounds more calm than she looks. Especially when she comes around the side to exit the bay. "Standby," she says into the phone. Looking at the burning bay, her eyes zero in on something. And she speaks quickly into the phone before looking back to everyone else running. "The fuel is about to go!! COVER!" she belts out. Isn't there already fuel burning? Or maybe it has something to do with the hose on the ground. The phone drops and she starts stepping backwards, looking up to the cockpit through the thick smoke, then ducking into the next bay up to take cover. 

[Into the Wireless] Melissa says, "Standby," There's silence except for the sirens on the Deck and the sound of the fire. "Sir, by my best gue.." It fades away. "Its about to be a real bad fire, sir." The phone drops and she can be heard shouting for everyone to get to cover. 
[Intercom] Petra says, "This is CIC. We have an uncontrolled fire and explosion in the port flight pod, section Charlie, bay three. Fire and Damage control teams report, medical on standby for casualties. Suspend all flight operations on the port pod until further notice. All crew on deck in Port flight pod take decompression safeguards IMMEDIATELY." 
The forward momentum of panic (which really translates to perpetual motion, if unchecked) is truncated abruptly when she gets smacked upside the head with the edge of a flying clipboard. Briefly stunned, Diaz has a moment of clarity, because getting smacked upside the head will do that. Vogue's words, harsh as they are, carry over the sound of the fire and the chaos that erupts around the edges. She ducks around the viper nearest her and bolts back for the viper she'd tossed her helmet into and climbs up the side of it long enough to snag her helmet then cram it on over her head, working the seals as she lands on her feet with a bit of a skid after sliding down the side of the viper again. Never let it be said that she didn't stick that landing, either. She orients herself with one hand on the viper, fixes on the nearest fire extinguisher in her line of sight, and is about to bolt off for it when she hears Melissa's voice and is spurs her to action. Instead of running for the fire extinguisher she runs flat out away from the imminent fuel explosion. 
Unable to rouse the Corporal, Leander spends a few seconds trying to decide what to do. Move the Corporal? With no idea what his injuries are, he's not sure that's wise. Leave the wounded man for medical and help fight the fire? That, the Private decides, is the right move. Wide-eyed, he looks around the bay for fire fighting gear and spots a nearby station. A quick dash and Leander is there and hastily trying to ready the unfamiliar equipment. He's only partly successful before he hears Melissa yelling above the din. Cover? Where? The best he can do is drop to the deck and try and shield himself with the gear he's grabbed. 
Randy rolls to start crawling towards a fire station she spots under the smoke. She starts looking for where Clara went when she pushes up to her feet and starts in towards the fire station, trying to be ready for any secondary explosions. Right now it's not splurting blood everywhere, and that's a good thing, so she doesn't give her wounds much thought while wrestling the extinguisher out. She coughs starts in on a bit of a coughing fit when she hears the word cover, and just manages to turn her back towards the heat so maybe it won't explode this compressed chemical crap everywhere too. 

Jacob pauses whem the shouting gets louder, his eyes widening a bit at the size of the fire. Hearing Melissa, barely, he frowns and guestures to the few individuals that are close to the Raptor he's standing in, "GET IN HERE NOW!" He hops back off the wing, landing on the deck with pain twisting up his face, and stops to yank another small piece of shrapnel out of his leg with a hissed, "Frak.." Grab a fire suppressor? Not with a fuel eruption and him not being Damage Control. Instead he's looking for stray or unconscious people to shove in the raptor. 

The question is, should he simply get /into/ his viper for additional shelter or no? It's a hard call to make when he could be helping with fire fighting. So Idris seals his helmet and starts to climb back down to go and see if he can help his fellow pilots and … then Wescott is shouting about fuel and to brace themselves! Gods damn it. Bloodfeather arrests his dismount and instead hoists himself up into the viper. He gets his ass sat down as fast as possible and reaches to toggle the canopy closed! It's the best he can do with little time. People are running everywhere and there's probably no hope of firing it up and taxing it further from the fire. No time for it anyway. 
Clara snags the extinguisher finally, and tucks it under her arm. She's then presented with a choice: book it into Jacob's raptor, or go back for Randy, some ten or fifteen feet back the way she came. She can't afford to stand around debating it; with a huff, she wheels about and tries to bodily grab the woman - if need be - and haul her toward the waiting bus. "C'mon.. 'bay's about to have no air. C'mon, c'mon." 

Terrence is alive, though it does not look like the man will be running any footraces any time soon. He stays low to the ground as Melissa calls out the need to take cover with the fuel about to ignite, army crawling as quickly as he can toward the nearest available cover, which happens to be a small metal supply crate. He pulls his body behind the crate and takes a moment to wipe his brow with the back of a blackened hand, the hand coming away bloody from a deep gash across his forehead. He breathes quickly, trying to make sense of what is going on as people rush to and fro in his field of vision looking for safety. As Penta's voice comes across the comms, his mine crystalizes enough to shake his head and key on his comms. "Negative. Do not abandon the deck yet. All personnel on deck find the nearest FFG stations and gear up in available turnout gear. Firefighting balls and foam extinguishing tanks are available, as well as oxygen supplies! We have to get some of those firefighting balls on that bird, knock down the fire and then extinguish with the tanks. Be advised the pilot is still in that Viper!" 
True to Melissa's warning, a tongue of flame reaches out and ignites that line of fuel racing across the deck of the Orion's flight deck. The flame catches and the fuel fire runs away and toward the back corner of the ship where a munitions rack stands waiting. Crates of 30mm rounds rest on the shelves above…. heating. 

Randy stumbles towards the direction Clara hauls her towards. "Frak they're goin-" Randy coughs again as she pivots to face the right direction, moving alongside Clara and letting the Three guide her. She keeps her eyes off the fire and recognizes the shape that they're running towards. This makes her pick up her pace with slightly more sure footing. "The whole ship…the ship could blow," she says and then coughs again, climbing into the Raptor. "The ordnance…the," she keeps mumbling as her brain fires off a hundred scenarios in her head. 

Melissa looks over at Terrence as he starts calling orders and she grits her teeth. She nearly froze to death this time last week. And now she might be burning to death. It makes her eye twitch. The helmet is fully sealed and she leans away from the fire as it races across the hangar deck. Eyes lock on it heading for ammo crates. "Its okay. You're in a suit. If the deck goes, you'll be fine." Right. Sure. Because nobody has ever had a suit melted or ripped in a fire decompression. Looking to the bay, she tries to find the firefighting balls and gets up off her ass to run for them. She's got no authority here and she knows it. 

In the absence of an immediate explosion, Leander peeks back over his shoulder. He sees the fire hungrily burning its way along the fuel line, and tracks where it's headed. Oh frak. What do I do? The kid hears Terrence shouting something about firefighting balls and looks down the package of large spheres he just freed from the holder along the bulkhead. Oh, that's what those are. He hurries to get one out of the packaging, and thankfully the instructions are both simple and pictorial. Pressing the activation stud, Leander rises up to huck the ball at the crates of threatened crates of 30mm ammo. 

Jacob looks down at the blood on his hands from the shrapnel he yanked out and frowns. Glancing around and seeing no one else close, he pauses when Wescott barrels past for the fire equipment, torn for a moment before deciding on following her. Seeing Randy heading for the Raptor, he yells at her, "Get ready to close that hatch!" 

Diaz climbs to her feet again, pushing herself upright so that she can sprint toward where the nearest fire extinguisher is located. Fire, bad. Explosion, bad. Munitions cooking off, bad. Pilot still trapped in Viper, bad. So many things are very very bad and the Ten's mind is ticking through each thread to try to determine which way to run next, how to help, how to not get turned into a crispy critter in a melted slag of a flight suit. 

"All right. No big explosion." Yet. That to himself. Captain Bloodfeather hears instructions coming over his tac channel and acknowledges. He pops the canopy when he realizes the fire is spreading but there was no immediate huge explosion as somebody had warned about. Feeling a little bit like an idiot, and certainly not having any real expereince in fire fighting, he gets out of his viper and hops down. Idris runs carefully to see what he can do to assist, watchful and keeping his helmet on but he can hear people shouting. Someone hands him two beach ball looking things but they are somewhat heavy with powder inside of them. He's told to take them towards the viper that's on fire! Aye, concern for his fellow pilot prompts him to carry the load and dare to get as close as he can, but the heat is intense. "What the hell do I do with these?" His voice is raspy and not loud in his helmet speaker. Fighting his way in closer, seeing the air frame's engine is on fire but not yet the canopy. 

<FS3> Leander rolls Body: Good Success. 
<FS3> Idris rolls Body: Failure. 
<FS3> Melissa rolls Body: Success. 
<FS3> Idris rolls Body+Body: Success. 
<FS3> Jacob rolls Body: Success. 
<FS3> Diaz rolls Body+body: Success.


As the fire races across the fuel trail toward the munitions, it does take long for the flames to set in beneath the shelving and begin baking those live rounds as if there were resting atop a grill. It could go very badly, and the deck actually have to be abandoned, were it not for the quick actions of the Air Wing moving for the firefighting balls and some lucky throws. All of the throws seem to be generally on target, one ball landing and rolling to bump against the munitions rack where it cooks for a moment before exploding and sending a thick white powder over the flames and promptly smothering them out, though the resulting white smoke is near blinding. Those thrown toward the Viper are on target as well, striking the bird and heating just enough to send a thick cloud of fire suppressing powder far and smother most if not all of the flames on the bird. The fire is not completely out, but it is contained, at this point, and some mop up work with the foam extinguishers should mop it up. 

<FS3> Randy rolls Blinded By The Light: Success. 

Randy jumps back down out of the bird when she notices everyone calling to action. Her might puts the order together backwards from the sequence of events, so she isn't responding as quickly when the flash of light strikes across her retina from the corner of her eye. She blinks and shakes her head before moving her head so the residual flash burned into her vision is not blocking her view of the remaining fire as she pulls the pin on the extinguisher and heads towards it. "Someone let CIC know we shouldn't depressurize?!" she shouts and coughs as she aims the extinguisher at the remainder of the flames, not afraid to get right up close to make sure she has range. 

Clara, meanwhile, has hopped back out of Jacob's bus once it seems like venting the hangar bay may not be necessary. She's bleeding all over her dress, but the first priority is putting out the spot fires that have sprung up here and there from jet fuel ignited shrapnel. The hell is that DC team, anyway. 
Melissa's throw could have been better but it does the job. She looks through the smoke, trying to waft it away past her faceplate. She narrows her eyes to look through it and moves back to the phone left dangling from the cord. Bringing it to her faceplate, she has to yell to be heard through it, watching the others move around the deck and go for firefighting gear. 
There's a Deck Technician trying to help direct people. She shouts at Idris to throw the fire retardent ball at the base of the fire into the engine cavity. So that's what he does. The Captain clearly doesn't play sports involving balls. His first attempt is a waste but as he was handed two balls, the second one goes more or less where he throws it! It helps stifle the flames when it pops and throws white dust eveywhere. Then Bloodfeather is going up to see if he can get that canopy open. "We need a Medic!" Goodness, the shouting is hard on his throat! 

[Into the Wireless] Melissa says, "Tactical, Deck. If you're still there, looks like this might be coming under control. Do not depressurize. Repeat, do //not depressurize! Standby for more."// 

Kieve had apperently been knocked silly and out of action for the moments leading up till now a bit of a nasty cut on his forehead makes him look like he's worse than he is though, he moves to start being helpful where he can be trying to help put out the fires still burning. 
Jacob reaches the fire balls a little after Melissa does, grabbing one and fingering it a bit, then hitting the stud and hurling it with a grunt. He looks decidedly displeased with the effort, but seeing the others hit their targets, chooses to limphobblerun his way back to 'his' raptor. 

Clara isn't a medic, of course, but she's about the closest thing they have to a first responder at the moment. Dropping the fire extinguisher as it clicks empty, she does a quick visual check for Randy, and then beelines it for Idris and the viper with a pilot still inside. "I'll give you a hand," she sputters, coughing in the thick smoke that's still pouring from the airframe, and struggling to pull in oxygen. She doesn't have a suit on. "On three." Her hands close around the edge of the canopy seam. 

Having scooped up one of the fire fighting spheres, clever little things that they are, Diaz's toss had helped the general all around effort to keep the viper pilot from being cooked. Again, that visceral knee jerk hind brain fear is trying to win the battle for babble rights inside her head. She is a few steps behind Clara and Idris when the fire is partially smothered and starts to volunteer to help but hears that Clara already has A Plan so only stays out of the way. 

<FS3> Idris rolls Body+body: Good Success. 
<FS3> Clara rolls Body+body+4: Good Success. 

The hatch of the Viper does not /want/ to open. It had been properly secured before engine start, that combined with the scorching hot fire superheating the metal likely makes it quite uncomfortable to hold on to, but as Clara puts her strength to the task, soon enough the grinding of metal breaking can be heard before the hatch is able to be pried up and bent back away from the pilot inside. A fresh wave of heat wafts out of the cockpit, the inside having been heated us as much as the viper itself, and the pilot does not stir with the lifting of the hatch. 

With Clara's help, she being a lot stronger than a human male and Idris still recovering from his nasty neck wound, together they are able to brace their feet and force the viper's canopy open. Bloodfeather at once gets out of her way to let Clara with her past medical training get to the pilot. He can step down and with Diaz to help, she also being a model skin, Idris lays a hand on her shoulder, "You two get her,.. " his voice breaks. 'Vogue' grimaces and removes his helmet and tries again, "Get her to medical personnel. I'll go see if I can h… h-elp with the rest of the fire." His voice breaks, again and he looks annoyed but he's strained his throat with trying to shout. The Captain moves off quickly to try and help putting out more of the fire. What a nasty messy day. 

[Into the Wireless] Melissa says, "Copy that, Tactical." 

Randy finishes off dousing out the flame with the extinguisher and starts to squint through the smoke to inspect if there are any more flames left, just to make sure. By now her hoody has blood soaking through it from the side and from her arm where the metal's still sticking straight out from. She holds the extinguisher in one hand as she coughs in the other, the cough sounding kind of wet. "Fire's out!" she shouts and then winces as she starts to feel the pain. 
Leander throws his firefighting ball at the muntions crate, then quickly throws another before he even has a chance to see what the first one has done. That seems to have done the trick! He readies a third ball but by that time there's so much smoke he can't see if the fire is out or not. He's also coughing and hacking enough that he spends a moment figuring out how to get the breathing gear on and operational. Then the Marine moves through the smoke, trying to figure out if there is more fight to be put out. Then he hears Randy shouting that the fire is out, and stumbling through the smoke he comes across the officer. "So, ummm … what do we do now, sir? Hey. You don't look so good." 
Clara drops the torn off canopy to the side that Diaz is not standing on, and it hits the deck with a solid clang. "Where the hell is DC?" she demands of nobody in particular. "Where's medical? Captain, you might wanna have a seat, you don't look so good." With no time to tend to Bloodfeather, she slides into the cockpit and immediately runs through the ABC of medical triage. Does the pilot have an airway? Is she breathing? Pulse? She'll begin CPR immediately if any of the three are not present. 

<FS3> Clara rolls First Aid: Success. 

Melissa stands there, holding the corded phone at the limit of its length. She's watching the pilot be extract for a moment before she turns to look back down across the Deck towards the 30mm. Nothing exploding. Excellent. The phone is once again put to her faceplate. 

<FS3> Randy rolls Shrapnel Hit Something Important: Success. 

[Into the Wireless] Melissa says, "Tactical, Captain Wescott on the Deck. Last fires are still being put out. We need Medical down here right away. The back end of a Viper exploded. We've got a lot of wounded." 

Jacob finally actually reaches the Raptor and slaps the wing, taking advantage of it to lean there for a bit, "We're clear. If you don't have to be here, get off the deck so damage control and medical can sweep." With that warning given, he turns to look at Melissa, watching her on the phone for a moment, then over to the rescue of Idris. 

Randy can still hear the pounting of heartbeats in her ears mixing with the slight ringing. She blinks at the voice coming from the flash spot on her vision until it fades and reveals Leander. "We need to see if anyone's critical." Randy's hand goes to her side and she grits her teeth. "Frak." After having been on her feet for at least two minutes, maybe five, blood pumping to the hurt areas, the smoke, and that wet cough, Randy's brain is just not getting enough oxygen. She drops the extinquisher and kneels to the ground. The cylinder bangs on the deck plating and rolls off till it catches on the handle. 

No sooner has Melissa spoken into the phone than a team of Medical personnel come hoofing it into the hangar bay. They move quickly and efficiently across the deck, checking over and on the wounded as they pass by and eventually reaching the burned out Viper as well. Clara will find a faint pulse present in the pilot, once she manages to remove the woman's helmet and get her fingers on a vital piece of skin beneath the woman's flight suit. She seems to have overheated as well as taken a very heavy hit to the head, judging from the crack on the front of her helmet. 

[Intercom] Petra says, "Medical teams and Damage Control needed on the Port Flight Pod, Charlie, immediately. We have multiple wounded and fire control ongoing." 

Seeing the Lieutenant take a knee, Leander reaches out to try and steady Randy. It's then that he spots of the blood on her clothing for the first time. "Hey, you're hit," he informs the officer, his voice muffled behind the firefighting mask. Then the MP turns, looks around, and calls out, "Medic!" 

Idris does what he can to assist with making sure the rest of the fire is out. His voice is shot to hell and he does as little talking as he can, his throat hurting after the forced shouting. Aside from possibly cracked ribs and lots of bruises, he's otherwise not showing signs of being obviously injured. There are people calling for Medics all over the area. Things smell sharply of burned fuel, plastics, flesh, and more. 

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