PWD #35: Event - Reese Rescue
Reese Rescue
Summary: That same Raptor returns, this time with a host of Marines, to get to the bottom of the Reese mystery.
Date: December 1, 2012
Related Logs: Reese Recon
Petra Andromeda Afton Bear Wheeler 
Out Near The Armistice Line
Open space! Its lonely out here, with only that single little flak frigate in the distance to keep one company.
December 1, 2004 (PWD #35)

The briefing was rather simple, but was delivered from Jameson personally in the Ready Room: "We dispatched the situation to Admiral Loytrall. They're draggin ass and telling us to hold fast. Sorry boys and girls, but I'm not willing to do that. You don't hitch your horse up on the Line. You're going to head over there and check it out. See what the situation is. Priority goes to CIC and making contact with the ranking officer, Commander Lissette Hargity. She's a nice lady so be sure and show her respect. If you can't make contact with anyone, pull the Security harddrive and get back here. Don't linger. Keep it professional and watch your backs. Major Petra is in command." And with that, everyone was given assault gear, a rifle, and told to muster out to a Raptor.

The ride over goes smoothly but the ECO still has DRADIS contact with that unmoving and very large object at the edge of detection range. It just watches in silence while the crew heads over. Once there, heading onto the flight deck is easy enough, though completely without any approach control. All the lights are on and the deck looks completely unmolested. The pilot sets the Raptor down on a landing elevator and engages it manually, the Raptor bucking slightly as it drops slowly down into the ship. Except for the sound of the engines and the gears of the elevator, silence descends.

Better safe than sorry. Afton is pulling down her mask into place just as they make their landing, feet planted and seated at read with her rifle moving to sling over her shoulder as she rises and takes the hand hold til the Raptor comes to a complete stop. The PJ looks to the Major then as they wait for the elevator to arrive at it stop. Her free hand moves, double checking her gear and adjusting the med pack she carries with her. The sidearm at her hip is given a check as well, leaning a bit to make sure the safety is on, leaving the holster unclipped and waiting. Her long blonde braid is messy, as always, but serves its purpose.

Andromeda is also armed with an med-pack, her expression completely calm and cool, auburn hair tamed back into a high tail as she gets herself into the proper frame of mind in case something bad goes down. She flickers a hint of a smile at Afton, before she goes back into cast iron bitch mode.

Rifle at the ready, Bear checks the safety, and then steps into position. He'll be one of the first out, ready to help clear the area before they advance into the ship. Afton and Andromeda and their med-packs get a look and then flashing them a grin, saying, "Hope we don't need you ladies," before he tugs his mask down and secures it. Thumbs up is given. Good to go over here.

Petra mutters softly, one hand hanging onto the seat harness as the raptor finishes its landing cycle and settles down onto the elevator, "I think I'd almost rather there be sounds of a fight going on rather than this dead frakking silence. We know at least one member of the crew is dead on the observation deck. Noone collected the body, so that means the rest of the crew couldn't, or wasn't there to care. If there are still any of the crew alive, they might be holed up somewhere." He glances over at the raptor pilot and flashes a terse smile, "We might have to leave in a bit of a hurry. Keep us updated on our friend across the line?"

As everyone else is getting ready, Wheeler is holding on to the edge of his seat with white knuckles, muttering under his breath. "It's only a flight.. it's only a flight…" The grimace on his face matches the one that's been present the entire journey as the man's apparent fear of flying has him less than focused at the moment.

The hangar bay comes into view out front and the pilot, Cheese, leans forward in her straps to look forward. "Everything looks kosher. I don't see anyone, though." That thick Tauran accent is like molasses. But they're facing a wall on the way down and its hard to make out much of anything. "Love to Major, but the DRADIS doesn't function inside. Just looks like crap. But I'm frakkin staying here, sir. Engines are staying warmed and ready. You all have fun." She continues looking out and around and squints at something. "Door opening," the ECO tells them, and pounds a button with his fist lightly, turning to look outside. The seal breaks with a light cough and the motor begins lifting the hatch….

It doesn't look like much at first. Its a deck like anyone else is used to seeing. But there is that one peculiarity: There are no people. And then there is something else. There's debris and a whole lot of it around a Raptor about twenty meters away. Its facing the elevator, its windscreen smashed with bulletholes. And wait, no that's not debris. Those are 20mm shell casings. Someone popped off several hundred rounds from those guns hanging inboard of each stubby wingtip.

<FS3> Andromeda rolls Awareness: Success.
<FS3> Petra rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Wheeler rolls Alertness: Failure.

"Let us hope so," Afton replies after giving Andro a quick smile, though its hard to read behind that mask. Let's hope the atmo works. As the hatch cracks and pops open, she gives a glance back to the pilot and waits for Bear to take the lead before she steps out onto the side of the Raptor to follow, easing down the wing carefully and sliding off to hit the ground with both feet. Her rifle comes off her shoulder and she holds it down, safety on as she slowly lifts her hand to her mask, raising it to check the air with a quick sniff and gulp - if there is any - outside of her covering. If it's clear, the mask goes up, atop her head at ready as well while she eyes the Raptor and its casing, brows furrowing as she turns about, not going far from their own ride to get a better scope of the hangar.

Wheeler is given a hint of a raised eyebrow. But the corpsman turns her attention to Bear. "Tough guy like you, I'm sure you won't." She tells him dryly, "But don't worry. If you do get a booboo, I promise not to laugh when you cry." She snorts, and then turns to listen to Petra. Then the door is opened, and the medic lets out an hiss. "Something smells off; Atmo might be compromised." She glances at the nearest people to see if they smell it too. "Did you notice any signs of epidermis degradation on the corpse in the observation deck? Any sign the atmo might have gone corrosive?" That to Petra

Bear snorts a laugh at Andromeda and says, "Don't hold your breath on that, babe." He ducks out as soon as the door is open far enough, hopping down and doing a sweep around the raptor. "We've got signs of a shoot-out over here," he informs the others over the comms, "Shell casings off this raptor's guns, Major. Hundreds of 'em. No sign of what they were shooting at. Nobody else out here I can see. What's the call on atmo?"

Petra's expression melts into a frown at the scene on the deck, popping the seat harness open and easing himself out of it to quickly recheck his gear and unsling his rifle while he waits for the Marines to Do That Thing They Do So Well. He sniffs the air, reaching for his own mask as he murmurs, "Do you sm…" And then Wheeler says what's on his mind, and he just nods in agreement, then shakes his head at her question, "We didn't get a chance to get a closer look. Our visitor across the Line appeared out of nowhere, we got the frak back to the Orion, pronto. It LOOKED like he shot himself. What the hell IS that smell? Masks for now, until one of the medical folks clear the atmosphere or we get to the computer and can check life support."

Looking about the deck, Wheeler shakes his head towards the others as he slides the safety off his weapon. "It definitely looks like there was a party that went really bad, really fast." He seems more steady with his feet on solid decking again, even grinding his boot down some. "What's the play?"

Looking at the shot-up Raptor, there isn't much else to see but some blood thrown up on the windscreen. But any look back towards the Raptor they arrived on will not miss the hundreds of pockmarks and blown holes in the bay walls, the rounds punching nearly through to the outside and going clear into the next hangarbay where another Raptor's burned carcas sits, engines up on a hoist beside it. Other than that, there's nothing here. It looks like a hangar deck that people just walked away from, the stairway up to the gangway

…located just to the right of the elevator.

Mask stays on for the PJ and Afton is doing a sweep, taking in the perimeter carefully as the others assess the pockmarked Raptor surrounded by casings. The hair on the back of her neck begins to rise and she draws a slow breath, evening out as she rolls her shoulders to keep ready. "Nothing here, at least not now. Order's, sir?" The woman inquires of Petra, holding where she is to keep her eyes peeled for any movement.

Petra's face hangs onto a faint scowl as he follows behind , spreading out just enough to keep lines of fire clear, "We have orders. Get to the CIC, find the Commander, look for any remaining crew, get the hell back to the Orion with the Reese's drives if we cant find any of the above. Lets head upstairs and we can debate the mystery here later."

"That's not what I meant, Junior, sir." Wheeler responds as he looks at the stairwell adjacent to the Elevator. "I meant do you want to proceed with the threat of hostile priority?" The motion towards his rifle indicates his meaning as he moves to thumb down the safety and bring it up to a ready position, "Room clear before advance?"

"Atmo is breathable, at least." Andro's jawline, already firm, goes hard as her tension shows itself there as she pulls out her gear and checks atmo. "It's not corrosive, although I suggest we make it quick. And.." She glances at Afton for confirmation of her opinion, "I strongly suggest full medical examinations when we get back, in case of epidermal absorption. But either way, we don't need to linger."

With the orders to move on their mission, Afton is keeping to one side of the group, scanning periodically until Andro speaks. Green eyes behind that mask flicker over towards her and she gives a nod. Its all that need be said, her ears are left to listen for anything off-kilter. She waits to move with the group, but when they do, she is giving backward glances, safety still set on her rifle.

Bear notes damage, turning to check out the holes in the bay walls, peering through one. His mask is removed and the air given a skeptical sniff before he shrugs, and carries on. On Petra's order he heads for the stairs, advancing warily, rifle up as he clears the path ahead.

Petra shifts his focus to glance at Wheeler for a moment, the corner of his mouth tugging up for just a second before he comments, "We dont need to clear the whole deck, we dont have the time for that. Lets just head for CIC, covering on the way. Fleet wants the ship cleared and retaken, they can send an assault craft, not a single raptor." When Bear heads for the stairs, he sticks with the group, keeping his gaze moving around the deck to make sure nothing suddenly starts after them.

Getting up the gangway and into the hallways isn't hard, but there seems to be something a little filmy and yellow on some of the lower points, and the floors and stairways. Its a little slick but not rough. Once out into the hallways, though, the scenery shows more signs of life. Sort of. Nothing promising, though. The hallways are scattered with random debris like coffee mugs, a few rifles and weapons as well. But the more ominous details are the uniforms and clothing discarded about like it was trash and left to whomever might want it. Stuff is just scattered everywhere with items towards the center of the hall looking crushed or pushed just out of the way. There are absolutely zero signs of active life, though. Nothing. Even their footsteps seem to echo down all the open corridors ahead.

Keeping just behind Bear and to the side as the corridor allows, Afton nudges a few things out of the way to clear the path if only a little more. The mask is eventually lifted and raised above to rest on the top of her head. Her rifle is ever pointed down, aimed to the floor. The clothes receive a long look and when that filmy stuff is noted, she lowers for a moment, coming to a quiet stop to reach down with her gloves and touch a bit of it, rubbing it between her fingers and thumbs.

<FS3> Afton rolls Alertness: Good Success.

Andromeda is not a Hero; the medic makes sure to keep big strong marines all around her. "Grab a bit for analysis on the Orion?" She suggests to Afton, pulling out a little zip-lock bag from her gear to put her own suggestion to effect with care not to let bare skin touch it.

"What is this crap," Bear wonders, scuffing a boot toe through yellow gross as they head up the stairs and down the hall. He pauses as Afton does, doing another visual sweep of the room, rifle still ready, as samples are gathered. "Looks like everybody suddenly got naked and ran off," he remarks, "Or just— vanished straight out of their clothes. This doesn't look much like folks who're holed up somewhere, Maj." When Andromeda's got her sample, he advances again, keeping a steady pace down the hall, clearing doorways as they pass.

Petra makes his way up the stairs with the group, eyeing Afton and Andromeda as they pause to take samples and investigate the goo. He uses the toe of his boot to nudge at some of the discarded clothing, just a momentary check while he waits for them to finish their collection and continue on with the group. In a soft mutter, he adds, "Agreed. Lets keep moving. It looks like someone ransacked the ship, or just rampaged through it. Any other signs of gunfire?"

"Not just ransacked Junior. I'm not seeing any bodies anywhere or really any signs of folk." Wheeler looks up and down the hallways, checking the doorways that Bear doesn't. "I mean of course, other than the snot. Maybe everyone sneezed at once?"

Moving past doorways and glancing inside, and all of them are open at least a crack, its the same story as the hallways. Clothes. Gear. A lot of papers looking like they might have just been set down and some spilled. A table in one of the reac rooms is toppled to the sides with cards and cash tossed all over the place. But there are no spent casings. No burn marks. Just the eerie silence and the sounds of their voices and boots echoing down the halls, CIC just up ahead on the right.

"Sure thing.." But whatever Afton smells, it puts her off. "So damn sweet.." She's quick about, getting the sample and handing it up for Andromeda. She wipes her hand on the wall to clean it, leaving most of it on the ship where it's from rather than taking it with her. That done, she follows, moving on with Bear at the lead, taking in the eerie scene room after room that they come upon. A shake of her head, "I don't see anything that speaks of any live fire…anyone else?"

"Or melted." Andro offers helpfully. "Could be whatever I smelled is the lingering effects of a corrosive gas that liquefied bones and flesh. And the goop is what's left." She grimaces, keeping rifle at the ready even as she makes damn sure not to lag. She keeps half her attention on Afton. "That should be CIC just up there."

"Or melted," Bear echoes, and laughs, shaking his head as leans back out of another empty room. "Lords, I missed the Corps." He may or may not be serious. "I got nothing, sir," he says, "No casings, no holes, no burns. Nothing. CIC up ahead here," he confirms, continuing at point position up to the door.

Petra shakes his head as he follows Bear and Wheeler's lead, muttering, "Where the frak did everyone go?" He takes a bit of encouragement when the CIC doors come into view. Answers. That room has answers, and they're almost there, but after Andromeda's comment, he asks, "Your instruments would pick it up if there was still any of that in the atmo, right, corpsman? Lets get the damned computers. I don't like where this is going. Sergeant, once we have the room clear, get someone on the intercom asking for any survivors to grab a phone and pipe the hell up."

"Not a big fan of a gooified crew." Wheeler comments after tossing an askance glance back at Andromeda for merely mentioning it. "I like the sneeze explanation better." As he approaches the CIC doors he brings his rifle up to sweep the room as they prepare to enter it.

Coming into CIC, the world looks much the same as everywhere else. Being a flak ship, Weps takes up a larger section to the left of the room, about half the size of the old Galactica class. There's clothes strewn everywhere here as well, papers all over which appear to be still damp from the film which is easily visible on the lit map table. Its even on the overhead DRADIS monitors, which show the system to be off-line. The gun boards are completely lit up, though, and show green across the line. Everything was ready to fire and the safeties were off. Throttles are at idle. Its a ghost town.

<FS3> Bear rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Petra rolls Alertness: Failure.
<FS3> Wheeler rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Afton rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Andromeda rolls Alartness: Success.

Sweeping intward into CIC, Afton's own rifle raises - safety still on as she aims down the barrel and does a quick once over for any hostiles. With the room clear, she steps to the side and near the wall beside the Weps' Command Console. This is where she pauses as something catches her eye. Her hand lifts to a smashed case on the wall and looks inward. "Major, might want to come have a look at this. I am not overly familiar with the ship design but.." Inside is a red button, smashed down, locked into position. Blood paints the glass beneath the film. A questioning gaze is sent back to him as she makes room.

Wheeler's glance is returned with an bland look. Don't blame the messenger. "Sir, my gear isn't terribly sophisticated. I can't do a full analysis of whatever's in here. But I'm reading the atmosphere in the green still, Major." Andro replies to the JTACCO, "Although, respectfully, I suggest decontamination and a full medical eval when we get back." Her tone suggests the suggestion isn't quite the suggestion that it would suggest. She looks and sounds calm enough, but her jawline is still tense. "Frak. Check out the air vents. Something was definitely pumped into the atmo. We need to get the files and get out of here." That added on the heel of Afton's own words.

"I think that melting thing might be right on the money," Bear says, tone grim as humor fades out of it, once he's swept in and they've cleared the predictably-empty CIC. He's headed for the map table, and nudges a pile of cloth with a boot, "I've got unis and pins, here. Commander. L-COL. Think this must've been Hargity's." He moves for the intercom, picking it up and jamming buttons til it crackles and broadcasts. "Anybody alive on this boat, dial up CIC," he calls into it if it works, "Sing out, anybody who ain't goo. Your ride's here."

Petra slowly follows the leads into the room, taking a moment to glance over the layout of the floor before starting for the tactical computers, where he knows he should be able to get what they came here for. But when Afton calls his attention, the Major stops and looks over, then frowns, taking a few steps closer to look, as if confirm that what she's calling out is really what he thinks it is, "Well, frak. I don't think anyone's going to answer. Thats the emergency beacon. Yes, lets do this quickly." With a bit more urgency in his movement, he lowers his rifle and scoots for the terminals.

"This is interesting…" Wheeler says quietly while he looks over the consoles in front of him after he approaches one of the gunnery stations. "Everything is turned on, hell, it's turned on and looks like it is set for automatic fire on anything approaching the ship but never got finalized." Leaning his rifle against the console, the MP begins to look over it a bit more closely. "Why would they set the guns to shoot anyone that approaches?"

At Bear's call, there is only the sound of his voice echoing down the open corridors. The ship doesn't even creak, despite her age. There's only the sound of boots on steel in the room they're in.

With Andro's comment, Afton reaches up to resettle her mask after smelling the goo a little too late. It seals and she gets a fresh breath of air and then lets out a sigh. Turning about to get a look around CIC and post herself just in case they get an answer they do not like, she blinks. For a moment the PJ looks fine, the next her foot slips out to the side as if to catch herself. She does. Blinking a few more times, she swallows and breathes deeply from her mask. "Major, feeling a little dizzy." She intones faintly, her voice sounding odd mixed behind the mask as it is. She steadies herself and lifts her gaze, looking back out the hatch from CIC.

Andro grimaces, and keeps an eye on the vent and the entrance to CIC, covering the JTACCO and MP as they fiddle with controls. "It might not have been them that set t' controls." That to Wheeler, her Aerilion accent coming to the service. She spares a glance at each person, frowning and assessing. And even before Afton stops talking, the medic is at her side. "Major?" That's delivered in a terse tone that suggests a need for speed. "Steady there. Any o'er problems 'sides t' dizziness? Anyone else feel anythin' odd, y' tell me, aye?"

The lack of response doesn't seem to surprise Bear. He punches another button that sounds a warning bell that echoes through the silent ship, and then shuts it off and shrugs. "No joy, sir. Anything else you need grabbed before we get the frak out of here?" He looks around, and comments on the weapons, "Or they set them up and got vaped before they could hit the button. Something was coming at 'em, looks like. To me, anyways." He shrugs, and shifts his grip on his rifle, pointing it at this pile of goo and then that one, getting a little impatient to leave.

Petra gingerly pecks at the terminal's keys for a moment, watching the screen, but is only there for at most a minute before he steps away, nodding at Bear, "Alright, the Reese's system drives are just down the hall in SecHub and at least look like they're intact. We got no answer, and it looks like the crew are lost. Corpsman, Medic, grab any more samples you need on the way." When Afton mentions being dizzy, he frowns again, "Frak. I need a minute to yank one drive bay from SecHub and then we're off this ghost ship. Lets go. Corporal, warn the pilot we want to be able to get the hell off this ship in three minutes, while the Sergeant leads the way? And declare decontamination for us on arrival. All of us." Oh goody. Decon showers for all.

"I'm feeling like I could use a drink." Wheeler states towards Andro after the expression of concerns are muttered. He seems to be focused pretty hard on the console as he's rubbing his chin. "Someone else could have I suppose. But what if they did it themselves to make sure no one else came on board out of fear of what had happened to them?" The last part is muttered quietly before he looks up at Petra and nods, "Roger that." He hops to it, getting to alert the Raptor that they're about to gtfo.

Its only a few dozen meters down those deserted hallways. A few open hatches and the one leading into the Security Hub is left wide open. Walking inside, directly ahead, is the ship's small arms locker. Its left wide open. There are piles of guns tipped over, visible from the outside. They're spilled out onto the floor of the hub, but most are skidded away from the computer banks on the right side of the room. The banks. The 'tapes'. Hundreds of hours of security footage of the time leading up to the impending disaster.

Its a smoldering chunk of melted slag with a blackened detonation ring expanding out from it like a very hot fire exploded out. Very hot. Some of the papers in here are burned as well. There's only one screen lit up at the far side of the room, facing away from the blast and entrance. Its marked 'Watch Officer' with a small placard on the front of the desk.

SHaking her head, Afton gives a look to Andromeda, "No, just dizzy and I think it's passing." But then they are on the move and Afton is keeping up, rifle in hand as she slips into sechub, giving a look around and shaking her head, "What the frak.." SHe says and then turns, posting herself at the door, remaining there and looking back out down the hallway. Nothing. Her eyes sweet the corridor and then she looks back, regarind that one working screen. "Someone didn't want anyone to see…"

Wheeler is given a hint of a smirk. Andromeda quips, "Just don't drink the goo. In fact, everyone needs to keep their masks on until we're back on the Orion. Pilot and ECO probably need to mask up too." As they move to sechub, she keeps half an eye on the party, alert for any other signs of dizziness or sickness.

"Man, I'm with you there," Bear says to Wheeler re: a drink. He looks at Afton, and then tugs his mask down with a nod to Andromeda and heads out, leading the way to the SecHub. Inside, he whistles low inside his mask. "Looks like the terminal just blew itself up," he says, "What the frak? Watch Officer's is still on, sir," he points out, heading that way, though he leaves button-pushing to Petra. Weapons lying around on the floor are eyed and then stepped over.

Petra eyes the destroyed computer banks, swearing under his breath. He lowers his rifle and shoves himself into the room, stepping over some of the debris to get to the watch officer's terminal with Bear, attempting to quickly look for anything that might have survived the fire. Must Not Return Without…Something! "Continue on to the Raptor, masks on like the corpsman says. I'm right behind you."

"Someone blew up the evidence of whatever happened here." Wheeler states dryly as he shakes his head, "If we leave here and mysterious Capricans show up wearing black suits, I swear I'm going to monkey punch them." The grumbling marine motions to the others so he can lead the way back as a point towards the landing bay.

The timestamp on the screen reads as seven days ago at exactly noon, Caprica City Standard Time. The colored video footage appears to be stuck, flickering in and out on the screen with the last moments of Hargity's command captured in CIC.

Bracing herself against the map table, knees looking weak, the sheen visible even then on the lit table, her arm is outstretched and pointing at Weps. Her face caught mid-bark of an order. The woman at the Weps command station is slamming her fist towards the glass buoy case. The Captain's charges seem to be a blur all of them flipping switches on the gun boards with one appearing to be yelling into a phone. Except for the one slumped backwards in his chair. Half the staff are doubled over their consoles and the Lieutenant Colonel, an older gent, is already on the floor beside the Commander and sprawled out. Above them, the DRADIS screen is barely readable under the film but there is a red glob that seems to be parked at the source of their own DRADIS signal. Something was right on top of them. There was enough of them still with it enough to spot it. Their last acts of defiance were to set their weapons to full auto and launch the emergency beacon.

They went down fighting.

Attention is drawn to the screen as it plays out and brows furrow, leaning in to get a better look as she stays near the hatchway, listening as best she can. Afton notices the red blob, the cries and shots of command and her safety clicks sharply off on her rifle. Without a word she turns back, looking out down the corridor and lifting that rifle, pressing the butt of it against her shoulder. "Sir, what if whatever had them was in the vents?" Because there is nothing to be seen, nothing at all and the blob had been right on them. She gives a glance upward at one of the vent openings in the sechub.

"It looked like a gas o' some sort." Andromeda notes, fighting her thick accent back down to something closer to standard. "The residue I saw on t' vents could be condensation or even a chemical reaction to t' ambient organic matter on t' vents." She shakes her head. "Either way, I strongly suggest getting out o' here with what we have. We can run tests on t' samples I have. The longer we're here, t' more likely we are to see effects from epidermal absorption, aye?"

Petra shakes his head slowly as he watches the playback, that simple motion causing him to frown and wobble on his feet, grabbing at the terminal frame while he straightens his mask with his other hand, "Oof. Frak. Alright, Raptor, now, everyone. We've seen all we're going to see. Lets get the hell off this boat before we become a part of it." He takes a moment to steady himself before pushing himself into motion again, making sure he's bringing up the rear as he reaches the hall.

Bear isn't really looking at the screen, or rather he is pointed that way as if he is looking, but actually he's just leaning a hand on the corner of the desk and has his eyes closed. He takes deep, slow breaths, deep enough they might sound on the comms, and then draws himself up, and says, "Yeah, maybe—" he seems to lose track of his thought midway through and shakes himself. "Yeah, out. Got it." He can do that, heading out with the others.

Getting back to the Raptor is a little harder for those who weren't wearing their masks. Its a bit like walking and slogging through wet concrete. It'd just be so much easier to lay down and take a nap, right? But getting there happens and coming up to the hatch, the pilot and ECO true to their words, still have the engines going. Helmets on, they're oblivious to everything. "Hey!" the ECO calls to the Major. "Just in time. We've got recall orders. We're to RTB at the speed of heat, sir. Orders come straight from Actual."

Already feeling better after sucking down some fresh air, Afton stays at the rear, making sure they do not lose anyone on their hasty retreat. When she boards the Raptor, she reaches for a handhold and then quickly lowers herself to a seat and straps herself in. Rifle goes back on safety and she looks to the others, counting once more and silently naming them to herself.

"Inform BS Orion that we need a full medical and decon team on standby." Andro says tersely to the ECO, "You two included." Being the cast iron bitch she is, she brought up the tail, bullying people along whenever they got dizzy or attempted to rest. "I also strongly suggest quarantine, and that everyone keeps masks on til we get decontaminated. Sir." That's added as if she just remembered that just about everyone in the bird ranks her.

Bear makes it back without giving in to the desire to lean on things, rifle clutched in hands too well-trained to let it slack too far even under the influence of— whatever there is in the air here. Once in the raptor again he finds his seat and leaves his mask on, saying, "Let's get the frak out of here. Even if it is back to quarantine."

Petra manages to make it back to the Raptor on two legs, but he sort of drops like dead weight into a seat, nodding at the ECO, "No plans on arguing with those orders, son. What the corpsman said. Lets not keep the Admiral waiting. I'm sure the Lt doesn't want anyone puking in her bird." He shoots a glance around the raptor to make sure everyone else is present and conscious, still, before closing his eyes and sucking in 'clean' air, trying to get rid of the dizziness.

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