ALT #367: What's The Likelihood of Actually Finding Him?
What's The Likelihood of Actually Finding Him?
Summary: Franklin returns from a CAP only to get pestered by knuckledraggers.
Date: 08/Jan/2014
Related Logs: Shepard logs in general
Toby Alexandra Atalanta 
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. 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 #367

The bay is busy, no more so than usual, but no less so either. A CAP has just returned, so vipers are being hauled back into place, checked over ad refueled, there's a FOD walk going on by the Predators after a screwdriver is reported missing, and the raptors are being, well, actually fairly well behaved so far today. There is of course, still plenty of time for that to change.

Into all that walks Toby, he's in his coveralls, but since he's a good half hour or so early for his shift he's not yet swopped his noral black gloves for his protective work ones, nor is he yet wearing his helmet. Instead he simply keeps to the clear area by the enterance and lurks, watching the viper area mostly, as if he's looking for someone in particular.

When in her blues, fabric crisp and pressed, her hair neatly pinned back, Franklin is the picture of precision and military propriety. When she's coming fresh off a CAP, however, that's a totally different story. As the canopy of her Viper slides open, she doesn't even wait for her crew chief to pop the seal collar off her helmet. Her fingers are already working at it herself, so she can try and get her damned hair out of her eyes, where a few sweaty strands have plastered themselves to her forehead. They never really tell you about that part in flight school — having stuff in your eyes, or an itch on your chin, or gods-forbid, a powerful need to sneeze.

Alexandra is in her coveralls, working over in the ordnance section. Apparently on some toaster equipment. She looks up as she ehars the others on the deck. She nods to them both.

Toby hasn't had to wear a flight suit much and when he has, it's been in the back of a raptor and thus more options for the sneeze issue were available. Still, he can sympathis a little, although you'll likely not catch him doing so outloud. As the various viper-jocks start to spill out of their birds he heads over, but holds back a little so as not to interfer with the post flight checks and such. It's likely apparent now though, that he's hovering closest to the CAG's bird, and watching her progress in particular.

Alexandra dusts herself off, and moves over to the CAG's Bird, where she's disembarking. "Sir?" she asks. "Anything you need special?" she asks, making sure her hands are quite clean. "Looks like you made a decent landing, I hope nothing went awry?"

The pilot's gone and shoved her helmet under her arm while she climbs out of her bird, so she can use both hands to hold onto the ladder. Natural grace is one thing, but so is having a functional set of knees when she's forty. Unfortunately, that means she has to peek at Alexandra from under her other arm to see who's talking to her, which is an awkward angle at best. "Nothing, Chief. The port forward nav light was blinking strangely the last time I was out with her, but it seems the crew took care of it."

With Atalanta's boots on the deck, Toby starts to move forward again. No doubt about it now, she's his target, although as Alexandra moves in and starts talking business he halts once more, letting the pilot answer before he calls simply, "Colonel, when you have a minute Sir?" She may have stuff to do, she may not, but now at least she knows he wants a word.

Alexandra says, "Yes, It was noted on the logs for that ship. Cleaned the contacts, it was getting some scale. Are you done with the ship, I'd like to get the avionics download, and run the post-flight checks. Then we can get her over into refresh and refurb, efficiently"

"She's all yours, as soon as I can sign off on my post-flight," Franklin replies, as her boots hit the deck. She reaches up to brush back those damp blonde strands, finally, tucking them behind her ears as neatly as she can manage without heading straight to the showers for a second time today.

Toby gets the feeling that perhaps hanging around and waiting politely isn't going to work so well in this case, so turns to intercept the tech incoming with the post-flight lists and delievers the CAG's himself. Alexandra gets a nod in acknowledgement as he holds the clipboard out for the pilot to take, pulling another piece of paperwork out of a pocket in his coveralls and adding it to the bottom as he does so. "Post-flight Sir," he starts routinely enough, then adds, "and an authorisation to take two raptors off rotation for sesnor modifications and testing that needs your approval."

Alexandra says, "Yes, sir, looks like that's just gotten taken care of" she clambers up onto the wing, opens the inspection hatch, and plugs in, humming happily at the prospect of work."

"Thanks, Chief," she mumbles before looking down at her post-flight checklist. One of her brows, which is several shades darker than her hair, arches upwards at the clipboard. "Did St. Clair request the modifications?," Franklin asks Toby, point-blank but not particularly brusque about it. The implication is obvious — she certainly hadn't, so the Raptor squadron leaders would be the most obvious choice. The inquiry doesn't stop her from running over her Viper, though. It seems she can walk and talk at the same time. Maybe even chew gum, too.

Toby has no gum to offer, so it seems that we might never know. Leaning on the wing beside Alexandra so he's not actively in the way he shakes his head once, then realises that the pilot is concentrating on the list too so replies outloud. "No Sir, but she is aware of the tests and has not objected." He can't remember exactly what Bennett said, so he moves on, "it's part of the effort by the MPs to find the raptor stolen by Lieutenant Colonel Shepard. There's a chance it is down on Piraeus and a couple of options have been presented with regards to finding it. We're not sure which one will perform best in the conditions, hence the request for two birds and a short testing period."

Alexandra watches the officer and Toby chat, and smiles, seemingly amused by the whole situation. The avionics test system beeps, and she leans over to check it out. She raises one eyebrow, and looks down the wing. "Sir? Where did you take the bird out? I'm showing a long patrol. And a bit of an odd flight plan. Did you run into toasters? Or just putting her through the paces? It looks like she was nearly redlined several times. Nothing dangerous, just hot piloting"

"I'm supposed to have three hundred pilots under my command, Chief. I don't. Long patrols are the new standard, for the entire wing." As to the prospect of hot piloting, she says nothing — simply looks mildly skeptical, peeking up from her paperwork. Her skeptical expression slowly falls into a frown at the mention of the hunt for Shepherd, one which forms deep lines at the corners of her mouth. She flips to the last page on the clipboard, the authorization for the Raptors, and reads through it slowly. "What's the likelihood of actually finding him?," Franklin asks, her voice cool.

Toby glances up to Alexandra as the Chief joins the conversation once more. He seems surprised by her words since he thought this was a simply CAP flight, glancing then to Atalanta again to catch her reply. Noting the frown though he keeps his answers short and to the point. "If we find the raptor down there, I'd say fair, and of course, we get the raptor back on deck. If it's not down there then somewhere between slim and frak-all. It's the only lead the MPs have at the moment though, hence the keeness to follow it up."

Alexandra nods, and packs up the unit. "Don't see any red flags on this. And Sir? I'm supposed to put all those birds up. You think I don't wanna see a full deck every flight, every day? Hurts me to see the launches. The old girl deserves to see all her launchers employed, not the few we can manage to spit out regular. You can feel it through her bones every flight"

For a moment, Franklin presses her tongue into the corner of her mouth. It's only made obvious by the way it presses slightly outwards, and her green eyes narrow in contemplation. Suddenly, she scratches her pen across the page, holding it back out towards Toby. "I want one thing to be absolutely clear, Crewman," she says, after flicking her eyes to his pins to be certain. "My priority is the work that Shepherd should've done, not hunting down a man that's most likely dead. I want to see justice, but not at the cost of more lives."

Toby isn't entirely sure he's comfortable with the personification of the battlestar, it's a bit close to machines that walk and talk, and they of course are the enemy. He holds his tongue though, merely giving a nod to what he thinks is the Chief's main sentiment before taking the papers back from the CAG and saluting smartly. "Understood Sir," he isn't anticipating this being a dangerous exercise, although now he thinks on it it might be if the marines do get their boots on the ground in a man-hunt. He drops the salute quickly, aware that as they're inside he shouldn't be at all, but frak it, she just signed his paperwork so she can have a salute in return. "Thank you Sir," he then offers before stepping back once more and turning back to Alexandra. "I need to go get these filed then I'll clock on Chief." A nod to his fellow knuckledragger, a polite "Sir," to the pilot and then he's off to do just that.

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