| abstract
| - A high, broad chamber that serves as the flight prep and launch deck for the Concordance Station colony ship. A blister module high atop the port wall, above the entrance, serves as the control tower. To starboard, a wide slit opens onto the blackness of space. The cargo bay is aft. A muster room is fore. Burn marks and rubble from broken vessels litter the area. Halloway approaches the door to the shuttle facility but gets turned back by a human attendant. Urfkgar is outside of customs with Cross. A smallish cargo carrier careens in, nose scraping against the decking before it lifts off a bit, spins, and crashes through a bunch of recently unloaded cargo crates. Then, with sparks flying, it skids further across the deck before it's forward thrusters fire up, stopping it. Thunderhand emerges from the flight deck, toting his gigantic canvas bag. He pays little attention to the marine barricade as he aims to walk through it and on into the flight deck, and the transit center beyond. Cross is talking to one of the large Marines rather animatedly as the carrier makes its entrance. He turns at the sound, eyes going wide as he yells, "What the hell?" Halloway strolls onto the flight deck with her hands in her pockets, stopping for a moment to gaze longingly at the transport shuttles. She turns away and just begins to walk again when the cargo carrier crash-lands with a horrible shriek of metal on metal. She jumps and stumbles back even though she's not in any danger, being nowhere near the unfortunate ship. Her hands dart up to cover her mouth and muffle her, "Oh my God!" A small cluster of workers scatters like confetti as the carrier crashes through their work area. A smallish Ungstiri man is flung in the air, landing hard on the deck. The rest dive and run in various directions, the screaming begins. Urfkgar grunts as he, too, looks over towards the ship. He says, "Gooderer smash." Thunderhand regards the developing situation with at first mild interest, then a goodly amount of alarm. Cross reacts quickly, ducking on reflex. Then he mashes a button on his commlink and start to rattle off the situation. The cargo carrier's thrusters continue to fire, rolling it over onto its side before they cut off. Then, there is some whirring noise and the external lights dim along the sides of the vessel. Cross speaks into his commlink, "Emergency on the Flight Deck. Emergency on the Flight Deck. We've got a crash, I say again, we've got a crash. Request CSFR assistance." Halloway takes a step back from the crash as the thrusters burn themselves out.. then a few steps forwards, thinking maybe she can help somehow. She glances around wildly as the crowd begins to panic, and narrowly avoids being run over by a large human woman with a couple of kids in tow. Cross adjusts his commlink. Cross speaks into his commlink, "Doc, I hope your listening. We've got a crash on the flight deck, it's pretty bad, looks like we might have a fire." Meanwhile, the chaos continues to mount as the crushed cargo crates begin to smoke. The smoke has a vaguely chemical odor. Urfkgar pulls his helmet off his belt, growling into it. Urfkgar speaks into his commlink, "Ship smashededed ship place. Morerer smashededed stuff." Cross speaks into his commlink, "Looks like a small frieghter, Doc. Hit a couple of cargo crates, not sure what's in them. We've got definite casualties." Thunderhand drops his huge pack and slides it towards the nearby concrete barricade. He runs toward Halloway. "Get away from those crates, miss!" he hollers, as he approaches at a healthy sprint. Cross bounds over the concrete barricades, heading for the small Ungstiri that's now endagered from getting trampled. He yells as he goes, "Everyone get off the flight deck, now." CSFR Rescue Unit - 20725 has arrived. CSFR Rescue Unit - 20725 fires its braking thrusters as it arrives. The enormous bay doors slowly begin to slide open ... Through the bay doors, the ICCS Balgarog comes in and docks. Halloway backpedals, though whether she's trying to avoid said crates or Thunderhand's apparent charge is up for interpretation. It's soon apparent he's not going to run her over, so she asked in a high half-panicked voice, "W-why, what's in the crates?! What should I do? Can I help!?" Trueguard exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Trueguard has arrived. The cargo ship remains still on one side, but the smoke has begun to grow intense among the smashed the crates. CSFR Rescue Unit - 20725 barrels out of the access hatch putting on a dazzling light show of red white and blue. Its siren screams at the top of its mechanical lungs. A large group of Demarians suddenly jog out of the Military hanger, all dressed in the standard fatiques. Thunderhand takes the woman by the shoulders, turns her towards the barricades, and makes a spirited attempt to politely usher her into a run away from the crates. "Because there's smoke, and on Quaquan we have a saying: where there's smoke, there's gonna be one hell of a large fire. Come on, miss," he says. Cross breaks into a dead sprint, barely pulling the Ungstiri out of the way as a rather large man stumbles in his direction. He starts pulling the man to a safe location, toward the barricades. Cross speaks into his commlink, "I haven't had a chance to count them yet Willie, at least one. Doc's here now with rescue personnel." HealingHeart exits from the ICCS Balgarog. HealingHeart has arrived. Jest'liana exits from the Faux. For the newcomers, there's a lot of smoke coming from crates which appear to have been smacked about by a small, out-of-control cargo hauler. Its flight can be traced by tire burn marks and debris, and it rests at an awkward angle somewhere else on the flight deck. Halloway stumbles awkwardly and blushes bright pink as Thunderhand takes the wheel and drives her towards a barricade. "B-but people could be hurt, someone has to get them out of there! Right!?" she doesn't make any attempt to resist, though. Lurid yellow-white flames break out among the ruined crates. There is a smallish cargo carrier on its side not too far off from the wrecked and now burning mass of crates. The hatch starts to open on the ship, but it jams somehow before it's more than half open. Nemoni Fighter has arrived. Nemoni Fighter glides out of the large crate accelerating torward the Cargo Bay. CSFR Rescue Unit - 20725 glides to an abrupt stop siren winding down. The driver's door opens the occupant leaping out before the flipdown steps even deploy. Neilson climbs out of the rescue unit. Neilson has arrived. Urfkgar snorts and clamps shut his nictating eye membranes as he motions the marines to help him as he starts to take down the first barricade. Trueguard jogs out of the Balgarog's hatch, taking in the view with extreme alertness. Noticing the group of Militia Dems, he waves them over, before making his way in the general direction of the commotion. Quite a few of the workers didn't make it out of the way in time. They lay scattered about the cargo crates on the deck, in various states of conciousness. Jest'liana exits the civilian hanger and immediately decides that walking further out into the flight deck might be a bad idea. She leans back against the wall, eyes scanning to see what help can be rendered, and more importantly, what help she could possibly give. She stays where she is for now. Nemoni Fighter seems rather to ignore the entire situation as course is shifted to the S/D quarter. Cross speaks into his commlink, "Looks like a small frieghter, LT. Probably a Donkey Class but I'm not sure." Neilson lands heavily on the deck, fastening up his turnout coat. He peers around the engine to view the fire. As he does, he appears to be muttering some choice words. Cross finally gets the small Ungstiri worker to relative safety behind the Marine Barricade. One of the large occupants removes her helmet and gloves and starts basic first aid. Nodding to her, Cross heads in Nielson's direction with a quickness. Staunton enters the flight deck from the customs room, her stride purposeful until she hits the wall of smoke and sound. At that, she slows to take in the situation. The Militia Dems make thier way toward the Shortclaw, carrying various rescue equipment. A group of them branch off with fire extinguishers in paw, and begin to lay down the extinguisher's contents heavily. Nemoni Fighter walks through a door that leads to the service/defense quarter. Nemoni Fighter has left. Thunderhand hazards a look back at the ship and the crates. "You appear to be correct," he says, "And the crates have not exploded - yet." He yells at the few marines who have yet to jump into action. "Don't you people have a job to do?" he inquires mildly, and then tightens the hemp belt about his pants. As the militiacats work on the fire, he rushes back towards the crates. Kavian comes running in full tilt, deftly sidestepping Staunton and sliding to a stop as he glances around. From across the flight deck barrels a four-wide formation of horribly ugly slime-lime colored crash rescue trucks. They seem to be closing on the scene rapidly. Halloway nods at Thunder's response.. then blinks in alarm and suprise as he rushes back into the fray. Never one to be left out, Halloway quickly follows after a few moments of hesitation. She catches up to Thunder quickly enough and somewhat breathlessly says, "I'll.. help. You might.. need me.." GoldenHawk moves onto the Deck, on Kavian's heels. Neilson heads to one of the compartments on the fire engine, throwing it open. He removes a breathing apparatus, which he slings over one shoulder as he makes for Cross. HealingHeart hurries down the ramp. Met with fire on the deck Heart stops surveying the sight. Seeing that a couple of the workers have been downed but away from the flames Heart moves toward them to offer assistance. "Come on." Jest mutters, shifting her weight like a cat pacing a cage. The chemical smelling smoke produced by the burning crates is quite harsh. The yellow-white flames seem to be slowly spreading, liquid like, over more of the flight deck, and some of the nearby crates that were not smashed begin to smoke. The Demarian nearest the blaze starts to smoke a little. A small, pinprick flame lights up on his arm fur. Urfkgar continues to work with the four largish humans at taking down the first barricade. Cross shakes his head slightly at Nielson's approach, "Hell of a mess, Doc. I've got Willie on the horn now, he's on his way." Not too far off from the burning crates is an over turned cargo carrier. The hatch is a little less than half open as it lies on its side. "You." Trueguard points a paw to a group of Demarians. "Come with me." He continues, begining to rush toward the downed ship. "Get out the heavy gear!" He calls out to the rest, pulling his cloak about him more firmly to offer protection against the flames. A light cargo hauler has left a swath of destruction behind it; its path took it from where it apparently first hit the landing deck hard, slid through a now burning mass of crates with a spreading fire coming from it, and apparently came to rest some meters away. The cargo carrier's door is half-open ... yeah. "Yeah, I noticed," Neilson says, hefting the pack onto his back and tightening the straps. "Get these people back! See those trucks?" He gestures in the direction of the oncoming green force. "They're gonna lay down a hell of a lotta foam when they get 'ere." Kavian frowns and taps his comm. "Command, patch me over flight deck intercomm." A moment later there is a slight, reverberating crackle of static, and Kavian's firm, even voice rumbles over the overhead speakers. "Any nonessential personnel is to clear the flight deck in an orderly manner immediately. Move to customs or the civilian hangar, whichever is closest. Repeat, all nonessential personnel is to clear the flight deck." Thunderhand stops briefly a few meters away from the blaze, then takes the nearest semi-mobile worker by the arm and helps him to his feet. This man around his shoulders he beats a hasty retreat back towards the barricades. Cross nods, waving at the Demarians. He yells, bass voice rising as far above the din as he can take it, "Get back from the fire. You're going to get yourselves killed, CSFR will take it from here." A mumbled curse emits from the black and white Demarian as he is halted by the flames and smoke. "Ok, lets go." He says, backing away. Jest'liana remains at a distance, by the civilian hanger. Her arms cross over her chest and she paces a few steps to the side. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Cross, I'm just inside customs. Has the interior of the ship been checked?" The oncoming green force begins to spread a little wider, four-abreast as they tear under and over various craft in their way. Cross speaks into his commlink, "Haven't been able to get to it yet, LT." Urfkgar grunts as he and the other four marines remove the middle section of the first barricade, allowing passage straight into customs. HealingHeart seeing a human female leaning near a ship motions to her. "Come stay with these guys, they are breathing." The workers cough and try to cover their mouths, as Heart leans them against the struts of the ship. Halloway follows Thunder's lead and grabs the next nearest prostrate worker / victim, looping her arms beneath his and around his waist to drag him back away from the harsh, noxious fumes. She begins to cough a bit, but keeps up her pace until the man is dragged away to relative safety. Neilson nods firmly to cross. He ducks back into the fire engine's cab for a moment, grabbing a trusty and time-honored tool, an ax. "Get a clear path ta da medbay!" he yells to Cross. "Get priorty access on da trams, too!" And with that, he tucks the ax between his legs while he puts on his mask. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Alright. Tell me the moment we can get to it. I've got my engie gear if we need to cut in." GoldenHawk leaps over the Barricade and runs to a Burning Demarian. Whipping off his Duster he wraps the demarian in it to smother the flame. then he begins to pull the Cat back out of harms way. The flames’ heat grows more intense and GoldenHawk begin to feel a burning sensation on his face. His duster is heating up rapidly, it's getting almost too hot to handle. Thunderhand 's bronzed skin is flushed by the blaze when he returns to the barricade and helps his person to rest there. He climbs over the barricade to the other side. "Come on, miss. There's nothing more we can do - the fire's spread too big, see?" Cross nods to Nielson, running toward Customs. He waves people to the side as he goes. As he's running, he speaks into his commlink. William exits from the customs room, dressed completely in emergency response gear, as he plods off briskly in the direction of the rescue unit. The man wields nothing in the way of equipment as his gloved hands clench and unclench. Cross speaks into his commlink, "Gotcha, LT. Doc's by the lead engine, coordinate with him. I'm going to clear traffic to the monorail as best I can." The Militia Dems fall back a bit, dropping thier extinguishers and such, then beginning to pull people out of harms way. More crates burst into yellow-white flames. The crates are, literally, bursting with burning fragments flying as they do. The fire has spread a good four meters in every direction from its original place. The small cargo carrier is within ten meters of the outside edge now, and the hatch remains half opened. Just before popping his mask on, Neilson spots Will. He pulls it up and shouts, "Grab a breathin' set an' da Jaws tool!" He gestures to a compartment on the truck and pops his mask on. Jest'liana doesn't realize she's being called to at first. Then she turns to Healingheart. She pauses for a half moment, then nods. She begins to walk, then half runs over to the Demarian and the wounded she seems intent on helping. "What do you need?" She asks shortly. GoldenHawk sets the Demarian down next to the torn down barricade and puts his Duster back on. Turning to go back into the blaze,hoping his leather will protect him some. Halloway looks over her slender shoulder towards Thunder and gives a quick nod, followed by more coughing.. "Alright, just.. *cough cough* Just help me with this man.. he's too heavy for me. Help me get him behind the barrier..." Her face is flushed by the coughing and the rapidly building heat of the fire along with the effort of dragging the worker. She's not exactly built for heavy labor or rescue operations. Kavian sighs and shrugs off the pulse rifle on his shoulder, tossing it to the deck behind the remaining marines by the customs door. He then begins a wide arc around the fire, moving around to the emergency vehicles, yelling into the comm all the while. "Engineering, isolate temperature control for flight deck...drop temp to five degrees Centigrade." William nods in the heavy gear as he reaches for a repellent gas mask within the unit, slipping it on. A cursory check of the connections is done as the marine reaches inside the designated compartment to remove the Jaws of Life. "The hell do you want me to do with this?" he says over the suit radio. The long turret atop the nearest green unit pivots towards the flames and begins to spew forth a torrent of white foam. Urfkgar remains near customs keeping an eye on the cleared path through the barricade as a few stragglers move off the flight deck. Neilson untucks the ax from between his legs and heads for the flames. "C'mon!" he shouts to Will. "Stay close!" HealingHeart says, "Stay with them, They are breathing but coughing quite a bit. keep their heads up enough that they can breathe, This smoke is horrible, you may need to move them to your ship." She says in a neutral tone." "Yeah, well at least I got a first aid kit there." Jest says. She bends down by one of the workers, "Hey there. Let's see if we can keep your head up." She casts about, and realizes that giving up her jacket for this cause will not exactly work. She sighs. William eyes the fire nervously as he makes the cautious steps toward Neilson, the heavy clapping of the boots on the deck drowned out considerably by the fire. The man holds forth the saw nervously as he unlocks the rescue tool -- after several moments of searching. Cross dodges through the crowd that's hurrying through customs. He's sweating as he reaches the exit, barreling through it. Thunderhand exhales coughing, and its apparent he held his breath while he was picking up the one man he managed to save. He turns around to look again as it abruptly gets very cold away from the fire, as Kavian's requests take effect. He turns to the woman he has been with all along, and sighs. "I believe the firemen will take it from here," he says. "Best to remain out of the way ..." GoldenHawk turning away from the flames. He grabs the smoking Demarian and begins to drag him towards the exit. Neilson grabs Will's upper arm and guides him as he walks briskly. "Stay right beside me, got it?" he says though his mask, glacing over the man's gear as they approach. The next two crash-rescue units begin flowing foam onto the crashed freighter and the flaming crates. One of them circles around to approach from the opposite direction. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Looks like Neilson and Temple are going for the ship. I'll start sending people your way once the deck's safe to move across. Stand by." The flames are coming ever nearer to the wrecked ship as they continue to spread, having enveloped most of the crates by now. They roar a good 12 feet up, and the fumes are growing stronger as they, too, spread. Further white fire engines arrive through the access hatch, crews quickly setting up equipment and acquiring a water supply from various connections. Halloway does her best to make sure the semiconscious man she dragged away from the crash is comfortable. He seems a little singed, but otherwise uninjured. At least no visibly, but that smoke is nasty stuff. Halloway's eyes water from her brief exposure to the fumes and she begins coughing once more, but she nevertheless nods to Thunder. "I think.. *Cough* I think it'd be a good idea to vacate the area.. umm, sir." William grimaces as he shys away from the heat slightly, gathering his wits around him. A quick nod from the compound helmet indicates acknowledgement as he moves closer toward the firefighter. As the deck clears out, loud, pitifull moaning can be heard from the workers scattered in front of the crashed frieghter. Here and there one stirs a little, the rest remain unmoving. GoldenHawk drags the Demarian out the exit. As he grows closer, Neilson spots the men on the ground. He gives William a firm punch in the upper arm and points. "Put down yer equipment an' drag 'im outta there!" HealingHeart steps from under the ship and looks about quickly hurrying back to the ship she grabs for one of the workers, Thunderhand wipes his face, leaving a trace of soot. He turns with an air of frustration to look at the people stranded near the flames. He nods distractedly and half-dips for the huge bag behind the barricade, but looks around for equipment, an idle person - anything, obviously irritated at not being able to do anything. "...name..?" Jest's voice doesn't carry beyond the minorly injured she is standing near. "...Really? How interesting....Hey, now! Don't you go moving..." She moves to one of the other injured who seems intent on the people left behind. William nods with determination toward Neilson as he drops the hydraulic wrench unceremoniously on the gunmetal gray deck. The constant breathing through the mask is heard, yet not heard, as he approaches the closest victim. The injured man looks like he's in his early twentys. The left side of his face is a mass of red and charred black. He breathes in a gurgling rasp. Kavian frowns at the workers as he reaches the first truck, then opens the box Neilson and William pulled their gear from, producing an oxy mask and sliding it on awkwardly. That done he heads for the ship, bent low to miss the worst of the smoke as he selects one of the workers, checks for a pulse, and starts dragging him away from the ship and the nearing flames. The blaze is searing hot, and Kavian feels pinpricks of heat on his skin as he approaches it. An ATV exits the Military hanger now, bearing the signs of the Demarian Militia, it skids to a halt near the rescue truck, and a few Demarians jump out, carrying spare breathing equipemnt. Thunderhand appears to have made up his mind. He picks up his huge bag and walks towards the exit, although the square of his shoulders does not suggest one who is submitting to his environment. That his path also takes him near the rescue truck may have something to do with this. HealingHeart says, "Gotta get them to a safer area." This is horrible. She wipes a paw across her brow. "The heat is beyond belief." She looks to Jest, and then to the men, "Can you guys walk?" She asks of them. Looking to Jest'liana, "Lets get them outta the exit. even if we have to drag them together." She takes the arm of one worker attempting to help him up." Halloway notes Thunder's quick glances at all the stranded workers strewn in the path of the shipwreck. She lays a small, hesitant hand on the man's arm, and murmurs, "Don't worry, they'll handle the rest." She points out William with her other hand. "See, they're.. hey, where.. ?" She blinks after Thunder a few times, shakes her curls, and follows in his footsteps. Neilson flips down his helmet's faceshield, trotting after William. He hunches over a bit as he grows nearer to the fire. "Jus' get 'im out!" he shouts when within hearing distance. Then, almost tempting fate, he charges for the jammed door of the freighter. Neilson and William can feel the blaze through their protective gear, hot and merciless. The flames continue to move while most of the moaning workers do not move. One more of the workers stops moving. Four workers or bodies there of remain near the flames. The streams of white foam begin to play down across the flames. One of them seems to be working at cutting a path for Neilson. Another concentrates around William. Jest'liana gestures, "Think that might take us a little too close to the flame, Madame." The expanse of the flight deck looks vast indeed from this side of the fire. Her eyes flicker, "Might be a good idea to get out of here before we get foamied anyway, though. My ships back in that hanger.." William quickly grabs the injured man in a stance that he learned from, ironically, police training, as he begins dragging the victim toward the edge of the fire. Click. Whoosh. "I need a damn medic!" The clicking and wooshing of the gas mask continues as he lays the man out in plain sight of the doctors, as far away from the fire as he can manage, before moving quickly back into the bowels of the flame. Thunderhand turns to the cat dispensing equipment from the atv. "Lend me a mask and coat," he demands of the Demarian, "And allow me to free the space of someone more skilled in getting the wounded away from the flames. Please." Kavian continues to drag the limp worker toward the flight deck, finally stopping as he reaches the exit. He sets him gently down, then runs back, stopping long enough to speak loudly to Heart, the speaker on his mask making his voice crackle. "We'll bring them here' doctor. The ambulances will come for them as soon as they're able." Some of the firefighters from the next arriving trucks approach towards the crates. One of them holds up a pair of binoculars, presumably looking for some sort of identification. The foam begins to take its toll on the white-yellow fires. The ship, however, is now in clear danger from the blaze. HealingHeart looks over the situation to re evaluate it. "I will lower the security, we can get them aboard my future mates ship. the Balgarog." She eases the man up to assist him in moving. Then Heart moves around the side not waiting for an answer or argument. " Come on Jest'Liana" HealingHeart enters an access code and boards the ICCS Balgarog. HealingHeart has left. The remaining crates read, "Diapers." Jest'liana gives Healingheart a sharp look, but moves to give the Demarian aid, nevertheless. She moves forward to help take the man's weight. The Millie Dem nods, dumping an air mask on Thunder, then a coat, then fetching the same for himself. "C'mon." He grunts, rushing toward the fire in full gear now. Jest'liana boards the ICCS Balgarog. Jest'liana has left. Halloway stops besides and slightly behind Thunder, overhearing his request of equipment. She tortures her lower lip, chewing it nervously. Luckily the firefighting foam seems to be helping to keep the poor workers away from any more danger, but who knows what injuries they might have sustained. She opens her mouth as if to protest, and takes a step after the Demarian.. then figures she'll help herself to anything she might need. She clambers into the ATV and digs around for a fire retardent jacket that's at least close to her size. Thunderhand smiles in satisfaction as he quickly and inexpertly dons the gear in what he assumes to be the correct manner, dropping his bag by the ATV and tearing after the Dem. As he goes, he finishes sealing the mask over his face, and gestures towards the two injured closest to the flames. "Them first!" he yells over the rush of flames and foam. His voice is muted also by his mask. William frantically gropes out toward his previous position at the now dropped Jaws of Life. The plumes of smoke obscures his path somewhat as he searches methodically for more signs of life, allowing the streams of protective foam to fall on and around him. A muffled scream can be heard from Neilson and he immediately turns around, running out of the flames faster than he ran in. His suit burns in a few spots, but quickly self-extinguish. The flames lick and jump as Neilson heads down the corridor layed down by the foam. An angry hissing rises from the extinguished flame. This close, the heat is almost unbearable, even in his gear. HealingHeart exits from the ICCS Balgarog. HealingHeart has arrived. Jest'liana exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Jest'liana has arrived. One of the ladder trucks maneuvers up closer to the flames, and the operator begins raising the platform ladder up. As he does, more firefighters begin pulling hoses to assist in the extinguishment efforts. Most of the bodies seem to be cleared out. It looks like two more people are in possible danger from the fires. They, however, seem awfully still. Jest'liana exits the ship, eyes already focused on the fire fighting efforts as they effect the ship's position. She covers her mouth, stifling a cough from the fumes that are rolling over most of the area, or so it seems. She makes her way towards the man that her and the Demarian had left, sitting in a dazed stupor. HealingHeart makes her way to the bottom of the ramp looking back to Jest'liana. "lets get him up there." She lets out a small grunt as she attempts to help the worker stand."Hurry Jest." Jest'liana shifts the man's arm over her shoulder. She murmurs something to him and starts moving him forward towards the ship with Healingheart. "Someday, my friend, you'll tell me how you know my name." Her tone is light. The Milie Dem apparently had the same idea as Thunder, moving quickly to the body, then halting. Without a word, he changes coarse for the downed ship. Thunderhand yells towards William, "Worry about the freighter! We've got the injured!" And stumblingly, hurriedly, kneels by one of the awfully still ones near the fire. He doesn't bother checking for a pulse or anything, just pulls the man up, supports his thighs so the man or corpse is piggybacking him, leans forward and makes a jog for the Balgarog, as it is closer and the fire has blocked him from reaching the rescue vans. Kavian is nearly to the downed workers again when Neilson makes his hasty exit, glancing to the man and powering up his masks' amplifier completely before roughly grabbing one of the pair under the arms and around his chest. "What the hell's going on in there?" Without waiting for reply he begins to drag his cargo away. Halloway sighs, shaking her head as her search turns out to be in vain. She clambers out of the ATV and resigns herself to watch worriedly and wait for anyone who might need her help. At least she found a mask, so she's protected from any further smoke inhalation... HealingHeart boards the ICCS Balgarog. HealingHeart has left. Urfkgar is still over by customs watching the scene as the fires near the downed ship. Two visible people are still on the ground by the flames. GoldenHawk reenters the deck and looks about the scene, assessing where his help is needed next. Jest'liana boards the ICCS Balgarog. Jest'liana has left. Neilson shouts to Kavian as he runs out, "HOT! Get the hell back!" He swats at some spots of flame on his arm. The Militia Dem comes up short, and backs away a bit at the heat of the downed ship. His suited tail swishes once, the Demarian moving toward Neilson. Thunderhand walks up and slides the man he had been carrying onto the ramp of the Balgarog. As Thunderhand's breathing runs quick through the mask, he looks at the person or corpse he rescued, attempting for a moment to find a sign of life before he realizes he doesn't know how. Frustrated, he turns to look back at the scene. The foam spray is doing a pretty good job of keeping the white-yellow blaze from spreading further. As it is, it covers about 50 square feet of the deck, reaching twelve feet in the air when not battered down by the spray. Kavian rolls his eyes beneath the mask as he slides the limp body beside the other he's already deposited. "Glad we got that straightened out..." he mutters, forgetting that his amplifier makes it as loud as if he were addressing a lecture hall. He rips the mask off, wiping the abundant sweat from his eyes as he looks back over the fire. William shoots a rather worried glance toward the smokey visage of Thunderhand before turning back to face the freighter. "Somebody, get that civilian out of here!" he yells loudly through the intercom, hands wildly gesturing for the departing form of Thunderhand. The man remains still within the edge of the fire, flames reflected through the clear gas mask, unsure of what to do. Neilson grabs Will's wildly-gesturing arm as he barrels past. "C'mon, c'mon!" he shouts, nearly dragging the poor boy for the ladder truck. It's a learning experience for William, after all. The firefighter trainee blunders after the more experienced man, barely keeping pace in the heavy response gear, layers of clothes rattling. A loud and angry sounding barking noise comes from the half opened hatch on the ship. It carries fairly well all things considered. The Militia Demarian follows Neilson with a whipping, fabric-covered tail, casting one glance back before continuing. Firefighters briefly hose off the running duo before turning their streams back onto the flames. The platform extends further out over the blaze, reaching out for the top of the ship. Moaning can be heard from the injured near the Military Vessel Hangar. Rytorth walks in from outside, hissing, "What happened?" Kavian speaks into his commlink, "We've got one here Cross...if medbay's fully staffed, send them in the direction of the Balgarog. And make sure they stay the hell away from the fire." Urfkgar shrugs as he stands near customs. He says, "Stuff smashededed." Thunderhand abruptly frowns as he sits down on the ramp of the Balgarog, and looks at his sandaled feet. His toes are charred-looking, and his sandals are damp with something. His look becomes very concerned, and he removes his sandals, as whatever liquid chemical was burning ... has soaked into the leather of his foot protection. He carefully places the footwear on the top of the ramp, and now totally shoeless he picks a wide path clear of the fire back to the rescue van. Rytorth shakes her head at the Zangali, "Mind giving me more detail?" Halloway sits on the rear of the open ATV and watches the chaos, or at least tries her best to see through the deep haze of smoke and the wall of billowing chemical flames. She sighs and rests her chin in her hands, looking rather odd in her mask. GoldenHawk looks at the Half opened hatch of the frieghter as he hears a Barking noise..." What the Hell was that?" Urfkgar shrugs and says, "Yup." Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Alright...I'll find her. What am I looking for?" Neilson glances back at the barking. "What da...?" he grumbles, then louder to Will, "C'mon, hope yer not afraid a' heights." He scrambles up an access ladder, onto the top of the ladder truck. Rytorth tastes the air before hissing, "You looking for the doctor that was just radioed in?" Urfkgar grunts and says, "Nope." He points across the deck towards the Balgarog. Thunderhand boards the ICCS Balgarog. Thunderhand has left. William begins following Neilson up the ladder, making sure that each bootstep locks firmly with each rung of the ladder. Rytorth flicks her tongue at the Zangali, "Wasn't talking to you, sorry, but thanks for the directions.", quickly moving in the direction of the Balagrarog. Kavian starts from the Balgarog in the general direction of customs, giving the heat a wide berth as he goes. Eyeing Rytorth, and especially the suit, he nods and says loudly over the roar of the flames. "You must be." He points to the Balgarog. "Setting up triage in there. The Demarian doctor is in charge. See what you can do." Rytorth bobs her snout, "Alright." Thunderhand exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Thunderhand has arrived. Trueguard had been doing /something/ Militia-ish meanwhile, probably directing the rest of the Dems. He now looks about, and begins to run back toward the Balgarog, cursing to himself and coughing a bit. Neilson tugs his gloves on snuggly, glancing from Will to the extended ladder. "Carefully, follow me," he says to Will. And with that, he starts the psychologically endless climb towards the platform at the end of the ladder. Halloway jumps up and begins gesturing wildly through the smoke and haze towards Thunderhand, then pointing to where the two workers they rescued are stashed... Rytorth boards the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has left. William makes a slow inward groan as he follows up the 100 foot ladder, eyes trailing the fire that appears to be descending beneath them. "Looks like hell," he comments through the intercom, the click and wooshing interspersed. Thunderhand looks over confusedly, and picks up his barefooted pace. He appears to have no problem with running in such a state, although he looks like he has no idea what the big deal is. The handlines and turrets continue to operate, playing across the flames. The fire fighters seem to be having more success with the foam. The fire is shrinking a bit now. The fumes are still bad, though. "So quit lookin' down," Neilson says through his comm system, climbing one rung at a time, a moderate but steady pace. Urfkgar continues to watch the fire with the four marines as they stand by the barricades in question. William follows Neilson step for step as small beads of sweat begin forming on his forehead. The man remains quiet, opting to stare upward at the holy destination of the platform. Jest'liana exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Jest'liana has arrived. GoldenHawk watchs the beings at work and feels useless. As the smoke billows around the Deck. Trueguard growls to himself, changing course for the Militia ATV, then grabbing a mask after more coughing. He breaths through the mask, coughing a bit more, then taking up a fire extinguisher, apparently intent on doing /something/. Neilson's pace seems to increase a bit. He still clings to his ax, sliding it up with him. Soon, he spills into the platform and hauls himself up to his feet. He looks back to check on Will. Kavian stands in front of the barricades, frowning and fidgeting as he decides what he can do next. Finally he activates his comm once more. "Medbay, start bringing up ambulances. Park them in the S/D quarter...its still to hot in here. We need hoverstretchers in through customs to take the first of these guys out." The barking noises from the half opened ship hatch continue. Thunderhand attains the barrier and makes the short jog beyond to the rescue truck. He gestures to his bare feet, and appropriates boots upon reaching the truck. A glove touches the platform as William hauls the rest of his frame up into the very high vantage point. "Start spraying the foam?" inquires the man, eyeing the attached nozzle. GoldenHawk moves to Kavian " Are there Exhaust fans on the Deck? How about turning them on to suck some of this smoke out.? Neilson shakes his head slightly, reaching for a control pad on the platform. "Nuh-uh," he says, coughing inside his mask. The platform edges closer to the ship and the half-open hatch. Urfkgar grunts as he turns to eye Thunderhand. He demands, "What stupid softskin doeded?" William glances toward Neilson curiously as the beads of sweat begin collecting on his face. Kavian shakes his head to Hawk. "Last time we tried that it whipped the fire up worse. Passive vents are already wide open...as soon as the fire's gone we'll get it clear." Neilson leans over the edge of the platform, trying to see through the hatch. He stops moving the platform at a point where he can easily step off and onto the ship. Looking to Will, he says, "Stay right by da platform. Anything happens, get on and get da hell back down." Trueguard watches the flowing of foam and water, then glances toward his comparatively useless extinguisher. He twitches a whisker once, then returns it to the truck, moving toward Thunder. "Allright, move into the S/D Corridor now!" He says in a commanding tone, glancing toward Halloway as well, and motioning toward some stray Militia Dems for support. Thunderhand glances up. "Pulled two away from the blaze, and managed to soak my sandals in whatever is burning. I am not stupid enough to run around a fire barefooted, my Zangali friend," he says, as he pulls boots on. A few moments later Trueguard orders him, and he shrugs, grabbing his large bag and moving towards the s/d quarter. "Now I can truly say I have done all I can," he remarks quietly to himself, a small smile of satisfaction on his face as he removes mask and coat and lays them on the pile for others to use before walking out. The emergency lights remain on inside the cockpit, illuminating a Demarian strapped in the pilot seat. The barking noise seems to be coming from somewhere in the rear of the ship. "What?" William says through the intercom, the stress of the situation present as it creates a sharp edge on his voice. "You want me to raise the platform after you get off?" The marine glances nervously toward the hatch. Neilson scowls and shakes his head. "No, no... Hang on." He half-steps, half-jumps off of the platform and onto the ship. Rytorth exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has arrived. GoldenHawk looks at Kavian " Kavi, I'm going to go check the ships in the CVH. Is anyone on yours at the moment?" The male Demarian's head is turned awkwardly to the side, but he has no visible wounds. It doesn't look like his neck is broken, and the deflated crash bags are visible around his chair. William leans in slightly to locate Neilson's frame through the fire, grimacing as he turns toward the platform controls, unsure of his next move. Rytorth quickly leaves the Balgarog, carrying a humanoid in her arms before putting him in a safe place and heading back to the ship. Rytorth boards the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has left. Kavian watches Neilson and William above the ship, turning his head slightly to Hawk. "Dax is home, I think. Knock loud enough, she'll let you in." Trueguard's commanding tone beckons Hallie's attention from the roaring flames to the Demarian. A moment of hesitation before she reluctantly obeys and begins moving towards the S/D Quarter, still watching the blaze with curious, worried caution. She leaves her mask in Thunder's pile of equipment, and looks back one last time, fire reflecting in her bright eyes, before following in Thunder's footsteps. Rytorth exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has arrived. Neilson glowers at the hatch. He looks back to Will. "C'mere!" he shouts as he starts hacking at the metal with his ax. GoldenHawk nods " The codes still the same?...I'll try not to scare her." Rytorth leaves the Balgarog, putting a second humanoid next to the first and practicaly running back to the ship. Rytorth boards the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has left. Kavian shrugs, obviously focused elsewhere. "I didn't know you had the old code. Probably, though." William mumbles something silently under the repetetive breathing of the gas mask as he jumps down onto the vessel, walking with slightly unstable steps toward Neilson. "I left the clamp on the floor," he yells through the fire. Neilson glances up as he continues wailing on the ship ruthlessly. "Go down an' get a saw! A SAW!" he shouts as he tries to cut, bend, pry, spindle or mutilate the jammed door in any way possible. GoldenHawk frowns" Hell, you should...Your the one that gave them to me, On Quaquan...I'll go check on things." The fire has been reduced to about two thirds the original 50 ft square size. It still reaches up 12 feet into the air at times. Firefighters, by now, have rigged up additional supply hoses to the crash-rescue trucks, supplying them with more water. GoldenHawk takes off for the CVH. Of course, the Militia Dem who had been following Neilson previously is now at the CSFR truck, rummaging a bit for anythign that could be of use. William climbs back onto the platform with some difficulty, moving to descend back down the ladder. It's easier this time, given the slightly lower angle. The continuous sound of breathing comes in through the gas mask as he quickly descends each rung. Shaw emerges from the transit room, a burgundy bag with his initials embroidered in gold on it slung over his shoulder and a litigation bag in one hand. The other hand is pulling a rolling suitcase. He seems about to head for the customs room until he smells something. He looks over to the fire and stares at it for a long moment blankly. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Cross, you still awake?" Fires are burning on the deck with various firefighters trying to put them out. Near the fire is an overturned ship with Neilson standing on the 'top.' Kavian and Urfkgar are near customs. "Alright! Round up any stragglers." Trueguard calls out to an assembled group of Militia Dems, waving about a little. He then looks about for a time, growling lowly. Neilson sets the ax down adjacent to the hatch and tries to step in. He gets one leg in, about up to his thigh, and can't go any further. Muttering, he resumes his attempt at prying. William jumps down the remaining four feet onto the deck as he sidesteps the various Demarian Militia with ease, eyes intent on a particular compartment. The marine swings open the door, reaches in, and withdraws a stock chainsaw. "I've got one," he says over the intercom, breathing heavier. The barking picks up in volume as Neilson sticks his leg in the ship. Shaw is hurried along by some officers out of the landing bay. Kavian frowns and starts for the trucks again, stopping before Trueguard for a moment. "Thanks for the help...once your people finish the sweep, I'll need them to pull back...once the medical vehicles and the techs come in, its going to get crowded." He gives a nod, then continues on immediately. Neilson halts his prying for a moment, looking down into the hatch. "Er... Right. Circular saw?" he asks over the intercom. "Get a circular saw up 'ere." The Millie Dem looks over toward Will as he appears, then with an axe in paw, begins to follow, tail still whipping back and forth and creating a crinkling sound as it does so. William groans inwardly as he inserts the chainsaw back into the compartment, withdrawing a circular one. The man moves to climb back up the ladder again, face lowering to regard the Militia. "Stay down there and keep the fire under control. This ladder can't hold that heavy of weight." Trueguard grunts in response to Kavian, watching the happenings with a whipping tail and a cough once in a while. He glances toward the ATV, then nods toward some of the few Milie Dems who have finished. "Get on and then pull out when its full." He says, motioning toward the ATV, then making his way back toward the Balgarog. Neilson shouts into the hatch, "Sir, can ya hear me?!" He pounds on the side of the ship with the ax handle. The response is minimal at first, but after the axe is hit against the ship, the Demarian unbuckles himself from his seat and falls to far wall that serves as a floor. William rapidly ascents the ladder, again, easier due to the lower angle. His feet fall on the platform as the man stoops down to drop back onto the belly of the vessel, approaching Neilson again, breath short and face red. It appears that he may have overstrained himself. Neilson cringes, watching the Demarian fall. "Sonofa..." he growls. "Start cuttin'," he says, indicating the hatch. "What? Is there somebody in there?" William says, activating the circular chainsaw with the attached energy pack, lowering it with extreme caution onto the bulkheads. Neilson nods quickly. "Yeah. An, uh, somethin's barkin', too." Duh? The barking starts up again, sounding down right vicious. Kavian makes his way to the ladder truck, behind the militiacat, and watching William climb. He scratches his chin, doing his best not to breath too deeply, then activates his comm again. "Dispacth, priority transfer to Robert Dyson, supervisor, construction detail. Thanks....Bobby? It's Kavian. I need to know how fast you can get me a plasma torch. No, not the big ones. The man portable model. No, I can't wait. Okay, two minutes. Get back to me double quick." The chainsaw meets the gunmetal bulkhead of the upturned freighter as sparks begin flying. "Come on," William grimaces inwardly, pushing the saw further down. Rytorth exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has arrived. Rytorth hisses, "I need a transport to medbay." Neilson slips around to the other side of the hatch, peering down again. "Keep at it, Will," he encourages. William grits his teeth beneath the visor as the sparks continue to fly, streaks of superhot glowing metal flying harmlessly into the gas mask. The chainsaw William uses makes some progress, but it's neither easy nor quick. Then, the chain slips off the saw. Rytorth sighs, hissing again, "Does anyone have a transport that can get me to medbay very quickly? I have a man in there,", pointing at the Balgarog, "Who isn't stable and needs to get to medbay, fast." Kavian yells as best he can across the deck to Rytorth. "Ambulances aren't up yet..." He then hits his comm, switching it over to general frequency. "Trueguard, can your people's atv transport wounded?" Urfkgar and Kavian are near customs. William and Neilson are standing on an overturned freighter near a fire that's been put out near them for the most part. Neilson gahs loudly and WHAMS! the hatch once. "Damnit all!" He sets the ax aside and begins to unhook his SCBA harness. William lets out a loud groan of frustration as he throws the saw onto the hull, standing back up steadily on the underbelly again. "This is really trying my patience. How many other chainsaws do we have?" Trueguard holds up his commlink. "Yes." He responds, moving quickly over to it and grabbing a passing Dem. "Drive." He says, releasing the Demarian and grabbing shotgun. Slipping his air pack off, leaving just his mask on, Neilson says, "Get a cuttin' torchm we've got 'em." He steps for the hatch, doing his best to wiggle in. Rytorth hisses at Trueguard, "Thanks...I hope.", heading back into the ship with the wounded. "Bobby?" Kavian turns back to focus on his comm. "Excellent. Bring it to the ladder truck next to the ship. Yeah, its hard to miss." Almost immediately a man comes running out of the construction hangar, some sort of contraption slung over his shoulder as he navigates the trucks and the heat and makes his way toward Kavian. After a bit of trying, Neilson can squeeze in through the partially opened hatch. Rytorth boards the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has left. The ATV starts up, and drives over to the Balgarog's ramp, sliding a bit on the foam and water, then stopping. Trueguard jumps out, and follows Rytorth. Trueguard boards the ICCS Balgarog. Trueguard has left. The seat probably offers the best place for footing. William shakes his head, the sweat and fatigue showing clearly. "Right," he calls toward the departing firefighter, walking with now very careful steps back for the ladder. Neilson's feet search around inside the cabin, eventually finding the top of the pilot's seat. Sucking his gut in as much as possible, he wriggles down further. William reassumes the descent pattern as he begins in what can be called a tired stumble down the ladder, boots clipping each rung several seconds before slipping to the bottom one. The angry barking picks up its pace again as Neilson works his way into the ship. Neilson pauses before ducking his head in further, long enough to pop off his helmet and facemask. Those encumberances gone, he lowers himself all the way through the hatch, balancing atop the seat. Kavian nods once to the tech as he comes to a stop, unslinging the pack and handing it off. "Thanks, Bobby. Now get the hell out of here. Tell Zaa the next round you get at the Cove's on me." The scruffy tech grins, nods and sprints back to the hangar. Kavian unzips the pack, removing what looks like an overstuffed carbine rifle. Instead of a clip there is a cylinder sticking out of the forestock, and the 'barrel' ends in a pointed tip with several small holes. He looks to William as he lands, flicking a switch beside the trigger. "You know how to use this?" William slips down to the bottom of the ladder, face pivoting to regard Kavian, nodding. "Locate proper depth, fire off in ten second bursts, right?" he says, moving toward the laser cutter. Inside, it looks like a standard if slightly sleazy cockpit. There's a hatch leading into what seems to be the cargo area, where the barking is coming from. The place smells like stale beer, vomit, and piss. The odor is strong enough to beat out the fumes from the fire. The firefighters have contained the fire to one small section of the deck, well away from the ship. They're wrapping that part up rather quickly as more concentrate the foam sprays on it. Neilson gags and does his best to hold his breath as he searches for another climbing point. The physical activity, however, has been too much and he soon gasps for air again. Kavian shakes his head. "Laser is for pansies. This is plasma." He points it away and pulls the trigger. A knife of white heat, with an electric blue center, leaps two feet from the tip. "Keep the triggered pulled, put the blade to the metal till the blue part of the field, and move it as fast as it cuts or you'll bake whoever's inside." He releases the trigger and hands it over. Rytorth exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Rytorth has arrived. Trueguard exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Trueguard has arrived. HealingHeart exits from the ICCS Balgarog. HealingHeart has arrived. William takes the cutter wearily, shouldering the tool as he begins to ascend the ladder again, face continuously breaking out in persperation. "Thanks," he mumbles toward the Lieutenant, already climbing. Rytorth is carrying a human wearing an ace bandage with a piece of plastic underneath it, trying not to jostle him but also heading for the ATV very quickly. Trueguard boards the ICCS Balgarog. Trueguard has left. Neilson swings his feet towards the console. They land, and Neilson tries to swing his arms over, somewhat like a monkey. Alas, a monkey he is not, and his foam-slicked boots slip off the console. "Yaaaaaaaagh!" he cries, landing with a solid *THUD* on the deck. Trueguard exits from the ICCS Balgarog. Trueguard has arrived. You hear thudding from back in the cargo area. The barking from the over turned ship stops. William reaches the platform with the standard tiredness of a man that's had way too much work. He didn't hear the shout as he lowers the muzzle of the plasma cutter onto the hull, firing the jets. The man begins to edge off a five by five section of the hull. Rytorth enters the ATV, yelling to Trueguard and Heart, "Come on!" Neilson groans, looking around. He slowly rolls over and drags himself over to the pilot, checking for his pulse. The pulse is there and mostly regular. He seems to be the source of most of the odors. Kavian watches William begin cutting, slowly climbing up the truck till he is at the bottom of the ladder. He stands there, watching the Guardian work, glancing around at the other rescue personnel and shifting his weight uncomfortably from inaction. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Cross, there's a Demmie Milita coming out with a critical patient for medbay. Watch the traffic." The firefighters get the last bit of ugly yellow-white flames out. Neilson coughs. "Right. Jus', uh, don't move," he grumbles and crawls now for the source of the thudding. Rytorth sighs, "Come /on/, or am I going to take this guy to medbay without you two?" Kavian watches William begin cutting, slowly climbing up the truck till he is at the bottom of the ladder. He stands there, watching the Guardian work, glancing around at the other rescue personnel and shifting his weight uncomfortably from inaction. Rytorth sighs, "Come /on/, or am I going to take this guy to medbay without you two?" Now that the fire is knocked down, firefighters scurry around to contain runoff and check for more hazards. The thudding is coming from a large dog inside a cage that has been moved up against the ceiling side 'wall.' The dog is pounding its body against the cage panel against the wall. William completes the hull cutting as he peers through the slit to confirm that there is nothing underneath the bulkhead. "Neilson? I'm going to kick in the hull. I've cut off a part of it." Neilson scowls. "Charming," he mutters, crawling backt owards the source of the voice. "What?!" he calls up. "I'm going to kick in a part of the hull!" William repeats in a louder tone of voice, setting the cutter down on the belly. Neilson yells back, "Right! Yer gonna need ta cut a hole in da side a' da ship, too, so we can get people out!" William nods as he moves to regain a footstep on a firm part of the bulkhead, other foot making stacatto bangings on the cut off portion of the hull, attempting to dislodge it from the belly. The surrounding area seems relatively safe; although, the fumes are still bad. The deck is scorched where the fire burnt. Neilson crawls back over towards the injured pilot, looking him over again for more injuries. "Gonna need a backboard," he shouts up. HealingHeart grumbles to herself as she makes her way to the ship. HealingHeart boards the ICCS Balgarog. HealingHeart has left. William moves to descend back down the ladder, plasma torch shouldered again. He calls down toward Kavian, "Sir, could you cut off the side of the hull for me? I really need to get some sleep." The sloppy body movements support this contention. Kavian glances around and notices the fire is gone, then taps his com. "Engineering, Askani. I need negative airflow from the flight deck...get the air changed out. When we hit 80 percent start fresh air, cycle it fast. And keep the temp where it is." Kavian chuckles and nods, taking the torch from William's shoulder as he steps down. "Sure thing. Good work. Can some of these guys go up and help Neilson out?" He nods over his shoulder at the various emergency crews milling about. The Demarian's hair is matted a bit more on his head than elsewhere, but it's hard to tell in the dim light if it's dried blood or not. He seems a bit bruised from his fall and in a stupor of some kind. William nods slowly. "One at a time up the ladder. I don't know how much stress the thing can take," he says, relinquishing the plasma torch. He removes the breathing gear, hanging it back in the rescue unit, as he turns for the customs room. Crews are already moving into position with backboards and Stokes baskets, and some rope rigging just in case the hull can't be breached. Kavian nods to William again and hops off the truck, eyeing the wreck clinically. He walks along the length of the battered wreck, then stops at a nondescript section of what must be the cargo area, activating the torch and plunging the blade into the side with a swift, sure movement. Neilson starts fishing around in his gear for a flashlight. Alas, he finds none. It's permanantly attached to his helmet. There's a sudden increase in scraping noises from the cargo area. The barking noise starts up again. Urfkgar shifts a bit but remains near customs, watching. Kavian continues to cut, much more confidently and a little more quickly than William, marking off a section a full three meters to a side. Neilson shouts for anyone listening to hear, "Watch out for da dog, guys!" Kavian finishes three cuts and begins the fourth, all the while speaking on his comm. Soon he is surrounded by a group of rescue personnel, as well as a pair of marines carrying pulse pistols, waiting patiently as the torch burns away the last piece of hull connected to the new hatch. The Demarian blinks slowly and moves his hand towards his face. He stops in mid motion, grunting, "Huh?" Brushtail pads onto the deck, turning towards the military hangar and skirting the barricades as well as he can, though he moves slowly and cautiously. Neilson says calmly, "Sir, don't move. Do ya know what happened to ya?" He does his best to hold the Demarian's head still. Urfkgar is outside of customs with the four marines. One tells Brushtail, "Keep to the side. Don't cross the middle of the deck." Neilson is inside a ship which is turned over on its side. Various rescue workers and Kavian stand outside the ship. Kavian's cutting through it. Brushtail nods to the Marine and does exactly that, skirting most of the deck and taking the long way around, after responding, "Of course." The Demarian puts his hand back down. He looks around at the cockpit for awhile. It seems to click; he moans, "Oh, not again..." Neilson blinks. "Sir, can ya tell me yer name?" he asks. Brushtail continues towards the hangar, gaze wary. The section gives way easily enough. The Demarian mumbles, "Uh, Broketooth. It wasn't my fault." Kavian steps back as the section creaks, groans, and falls at his feet with a resounding clang. His light comes up from his belt kit and she shines it inside, matching those of some of the other personnel nearby, peering into the hull. Neilson can't help but smirk faintly. "So, Broketooth, ya havin' any pain anywhere?" He glances over towards the source of the clang, yelling, "In 'ere!" On the far side of the foul smelling cargo hold is a cage made of welded rebar lengths. Inside the cage is a large, angry looking dog. There's a entry way, sideways, of course that leads into what seems to be the cockpit. Strewn about the cargo hold is a crushed matress and ripped bits of cloth. The Demarian's whiskers twitch, "Oh, uh, pain, yea, lots of pain. It was my...autochronicosisoliuemiankran glandular...problem..." Neilson blinks. "Riiiight. And, uh, what specifically /is/ da problem?" he prods. Kavian wrinkles his nose at the stench, but steps inside just the same, torch and flashlight both still in hand as he leads the group inside. The shabby Demarian's voice picks up a bit. He says, "Er, you see, it made me crash. Chronicfootinmouth disease is a bad one." Neilson mmhmms. "Well, jus' hold on, we're gonna get ya down ta medbay ta be checked out," he explains, glancing towards the area where the rescuers should be entering. Kavian walks in cautiously, keeping clear of the cage as best he can. He motions toward the direction of the cockpit with the light. "They'll be in there." He himself continues to glance about the cargo bay, having no skills to contribute up front. The rescuers plod on in, quickly preparing to move the Demarian onto a backboard. The Demarian looks panicked, "But, but, I didn't do anything. It wasn't my fault. They made me do it. I didn't know. I was just going to...I mean. I had to. They kept me sane. I couldn't help it. I don't need to go to medbay. I'm fine." He starts to get up to prove it. Neilson places a hand on the Demarian's forehead. "Nuh-uh, yer not goin' anywhere," he says. The Demarian gives up, looking sulky. His last ditch effort is, "You obviously don't know who Broketooth is." "Dunno, looks ta me like Broketooth's a guy who crashed a ship," mutters the medic as he helps the rescuers slide the Demarian onto the backboard. Kavian shakes his head at the mess, and starts outward once more. "Neilson, I'm feeling a little useless here. Your boys are all over the place...I'm going to make sure the ambulances have come and get the techs ready to move this out of the way. Anything else?" The dog has settled down a bit staying in the back corner of its cage. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "If anybody's doing anything right, the rest of the people should be on their way to medbay already. Go ahead and open up traffic." Neilson shakes his head slightly as the other medics carry the inebriated Demarian off. "We'll stand by while ya clean up, jus' in case ya find any hazards." Kavian nods, though no one is around to see it. "Appreciate it. Nice work, by the way." He steps out of the hole and gets on his comm yet again, checking on the status of the injured, bringing in heavy equipment and cleanup crews, as well as an animal handling team. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Its just cleanup now. If you've got anything else at all to do, go ahead and do it. That includes sleep." Neilson nods meekly, plodding out and over to his truck to clean up. Various crews from fire and rescue are cleaning up the area around an overturned ship. Rytorth looks really, really tired as well as probably ready to mend up anyone she has to right now. Kavian has just stepped out of the hull of the ship, through a hole cut into the side. He walks slowly toward the barricades and customs, talking every few moments into his commlink. Nova exits onto the flight deck in a swirl of silver & rose silk. That every present smile on her face for any passing male. She makes her way towards the civilian hangar. She slows down as she smells the fire and her silver brows form a frown as her smile fades. Kavian speaks into his commlink, "Acknowledged, Cross. Thanks for the help. Askani out." Rytorth waves to Kavian, "Need any help from a doctor? Or can I get back to medbay and possibly sleep for the next few weeks?" Urfkgar remains lodged in his position outside of customs, watching the crews work. Kavian looks up at Rytorth, nodding once in greeting. "The crews found a pilot and a dog. The pilot's being shipped out at the moment...so unless you're good with Terran animals, I think we're set. Thank you for all your help. Did your patient make it alright?" Nova stops not far from customs, she turns towards the Zangali and asks quietly, "What happened?" Urfkgar snorts and says, "Stuff smashededed." Rytorth rolls her eyes at the humanoid, "Don't bother asking him. It's the same answer he gave me when I asked him a few hours ago." Nova hmms, "That's obvious, big guy. What smashed it?" Her violet eyes roam over the wreakage. Urfkgar shrugs and explains generously, "Stuff." Rytorth shrugs at the humanoid, her jaw lolling as she hears Urf's answer. One of the other marines at the barricade adds some details, "Ship smashed through some crates of flammables, caught them on fire, spun around some, crashed. Took some doing to get the fires out and the pilot free of the ship." Nova rolls her eyes as Urfkgar answers, but still she turns her Timonae charm on the Zangali, "Thanks ever so for the detailed commentary." She moves towards a barricades looking for someone who might tell her more. Rytorth ahhs. "So the ship didn't decide to spontaneously combust.." Nova turns back and looks at the Marine, gracing him with a grateful smile, "Thanks. Was everyone recovered?" Kavian smirks at Urf, then frowns at the helpful marine before returning his attention to Rytorth. "If you don't mind me saying so...miss...you look beat. I think things are well in hand here..." The marine says, "I'm not sure, ma'am. We don't have the official word yet." Rytorth bobs her snout at Kavian, "It's not really easy making sure that someone with a whole punched in their chest gets to medbay alive. Tougher treating them. But, I guess if you're really sure you don't need a doctor...", trailing off and trying, pretty unsuccessfully, to keep a yawn from escaping. Nova nods and looks back over the wreakage, "I guess it's a good thing we park our ship in the hangar." She sighs and begins moving towards the check-in console. Kavian smirks and nods, looking over his shoulder as the last of the rescue crew is moved away and a massive hovering crane begins to approach the wreckage. "We're doing fine, doctor. Get some sleep. Thank you again." Rytorth bobs her snout, "Alright....I'll get back up to medbay. And you're welcome.", heading back out the way she came, seeming to concentrate more on staying up right then anything else, bobbing her snout slightly as she sees Kastaprulyi. Kastaprulyi pauses by customs to return the greeting with a friendly feeling, falling in beside the doctor. The snarling dog tips over the cage as the animal handling crew removes it from the hole cut overturned ship's side. Rytorth hisses softly, exaustion evident in her voice, "Hello,". Rytorth turns her snout in the direction of the ship, "So that's what was barking.", before continuing on her way. Kastaprulyi crosses in front of Rytorth to float by her side. "Hello. What're you doing?" Rytorth tastes the air, "Heading over to medbay, what're you doing?" Nova finishes her business compling with Concordance regulations and heads a bit tiredly towards the civilian hangar again. She sends a tired smile towards Kavian as she passes the barricade on the way. Kastaprulyi replies, "I'm watching people. Medbay usually is good for that." Rytorth bobs her snout, "I've got a patient in there. Don't think he'll be very interesting to watch, though.", heading out the security gate. Kavian returns the smile to Nova a bit more warmly, in spite of the grime and wearyness on his face, before frowning over her shoulder at the overturned cage. "Don't let it hurt itself." He calls to them. "Stun it if you need." He shakes his head and glances about. "I give up." With a sigh he starts for the CVH. The animal control officers pull guns and stun the large animal. Then, they drag the cage to a hovercart, pulling the dog out with a bit of trouble. Urfkgar seems somewhat interested as he watches the dog. Kavian continues to grumble as he heads away, plasma torch still in hand. "...terrorists, evil diseases, lousy drivers, and Demarians that can't fly..."
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