(2530-08-15) Blowing up a Bridge
Summary: The shiny new Sunrise Bridge gets blown up… almost
RL Date: 15 Aug 2020
Related: some to come
nikki abigail gideon saoirse donna finnegan timur 

Sunrise Bridge


Dusk has fallen over Persephone City, but the Sunrise Bridge is forever lit by large street lights on either side of the dual lanes for ground traffic. Between the lanes there's also a railway line for the local maglev that connects the city centre with the new business quarter that sprung up on the other side of the valley after the war as one of those Federal efforts to leave their imprints on the city.

Not much is left of the slums that were destroyed to make way for the giant pillars on which the bridge rests. A few shacks cling on at the base of the pillars, now mostly taken up by ne'er-do-wells who meet under cover of the bridge for shady deals including places selling cheap food and even cheaper booze.

Deep in the shadows, at a spot carefully chosen for being outside surveillance cameras, a group of young people dressed all in black have assembled (Jude is not among them, it seems to be one girl and three guys).

Among the ne'er-do-wells is Gideon. He's not here for a shady deal, necessarily - instead, he's trying to get information. "Look man - all I'm sayin' is that Johnny said he wanted these goods and now we got these goods and I'm lookin' to make sure that Johnny gets his goods. I ain't here to get no one in trouble, and I sure as shit don't wanna /get/ any trouble from Johnny or anyone expectin' him to have these goods if I'm missin' something. So," he asks the other man. "You seen Johnny?"

Abigail isn't really a ne'er-do-well. Not anymore, anyway. But over the last few years she's made some friends who are. And a couple of them are good enough friends that she occasionally comes to visit them. One of them happened to live in the slums that have been replaced, and still comes to hawk his moonshine here. She's just spent an hour or so catching up, and is on her way back out, along with a bottle of terrible rotgut that she's looking forward to inflicting on Valentin. She picks her way through the shadows, face lit by the glow of a cigarette.

The ne'er-do-well that Gideon was addressing - let's call him Boxer - scratches at his scraggly chin, deliberates for a moment, and admits, "nah… I haven't see him. He hasn't been around today. Did you try the Mermaid Inn?" That's more of a flop house with a substantial pub area rather than anything a civilized person would call an Inn. It's another of the hangouts in this area for low-lives.

"Nah, not yet, I don't wanna get no diseases," Gideon shares with Boxer. "If you're /real/ sure that he's likely to be over there, I'll go in," he adds, like he wants to make it clear that if he's being sent off on a wild goose chase, it's gonna come back to bite someone.

There was an anonymous tip. Well, truthfully it was fairly nymous when it was passed to Lt Nicola Kennedy, but for whatever reason it left her stripped of the tipster's identity. Such flimsy intelligence is normally filed carefully in the same drawer as the Kitchen and Dining Area (More Than 20 Person Capacity) Hygiene Inspection (Level 2a) Interim Report from twelve years ago ("passed up the chain of command"), but it's a slack time. The Eavesdown Fighter Group's activities normally consist of protecting bullion ships, escorting the occasional newly elected and naive politicians who want to greet their voters (although why they think they'd find any here is a mystery), search and rescue, and exercises. Nikki has been making a nuisance of herself so naturally is the one voluntold to fly air cover on the bridge, an assignment that has caused endless amusement in the briefing room. "Careful when the bridge pulls up sharply," she was advised.

Unamused Nikki is circling in her Alliance Fast Attack Ship. They were excellent in their day, feared gunboat killers, fast and heavily armed. But the U-war finished, military tech advanced, and the fighters were gradually mothballed, used as trainers, sold for scrap, or passed to second-line military installations such as that on Eavesdown. Parts are scarce, maintenance is underfunded, and they are way overkill for patrolling a city. Nikki loves them.

Deep in the shadows, the black-clad quartet has started to fling grapples at the pillar of choice. Not yer Arrr-matey grappling hooks of yore but clever rubbery devices that stick to the concrete like glue. And soon enough the first two start making their way upwards…

<FS3> Nikki rolls Alertness: Good Success. (10 9 4 9 3 2 2 3)

Abigail is unaware of shenanigans occurring, at present. She takes a pull on the cigarette, the light flaring. She /is/ walking past Gideon when it happens, though. She's fairly noticeable, given her build and the fact that she looks much healthier than the average resident of the area.

Boxer eyes Gideon thoughtfully, and gives a non-committal shrug. "It's where Johnny usually hangs out, when he's not here. I can't say he's there now. Maybe he's with your mother, showing her the mysteries of the Verse or something. Could be with my mother, for all I know…" all of that delivered in a flat, unfazed tone. "You in the market for anything today?"

"My mama's on Aberdeen, and if she's choosin' to see anyone on the side of my dad, then I'm gonna trust that ain't you and me's business," Gideon says, his tone a bit serious. "Anyway, that's cool. I'll go check for Johnny. You see him, though, tell him I gotta talk to him or otherwise boss's gonna send Apollo out." Gideon's cousin Apollo functions as the brute force in their duo; while Gideon's certainly not fit for the noble world, in the underworld, with the occasional exception for his fits of temper, he's a downright gentleman. To Boxer, though, he understands that he ought to pay to play, and so he shrugs. "Whatcha got?"

Abi, knowing better than to interfere in any conversations around these parts, lest the interfering person get shot, steers around Gideon and Boxer at a fair distance.

Using the first grapples to rest feet on, the two black-clad climbers throw more upwards to continue their way upwards…. coming close to where the main pillar turns into three - the main one rising straight further up, two minor ones branching off at 45 degree angles to distribute the weight of the bridge better. Each climber sits in one of the nooks created by those branches. Something is hauled upwards on a long rope.

Nikki continues to circle. When she's bored of circling, she banks sharply to turn for a high pass along the length of the bridge, imagining herself lower. She made the mistake recently of practicing unauthorized very low level flying, which is not normally a problem since the complainants are scummy Border-world civilians. On this occasion her fighter came screaming over the mayor's house as his wife was petting their sharp-clawed genetically modified and very nervous cat. She might even have maintained plausible deniability but when she landed trailing a washing line (and washing) from some Eavesdown rooftop, it torpedoed her claim she was never below the hard deck for more than a few seconds. She'll totally do it again, of course.

Boxer smirks and nods some sort of approval to Gideon for not jumping at the easy bait. He eyes Abigail walking by with the jug of rotgut, waiting until she's passed out of range before he looks back at Gideon. In a quiet, secretive tone, he answers, "stims, drops, fizzies, the usual choices… I've got a real nice batch of Buddha today. Only twenty credits an ounce." He's oblivious to the activity on the bridge.

<FS3> Abigail rolls Alertness: Success. (1 3 10 4 7 1 2)
<FS3> Nikki rolls Alertness: Great Success. (9 10 1 9 9 5 10 7)

Rolling his eyes, Gideon shakes his head. "No. None of that shit. For fuck's sake, man, do I look like I can handle a gorram mind fuck like that?" he grunts, then lifts a hand and turns, like he's ready to get going.

Whatever is being hauled up has reached its destination and the pair up in the pillar get busy with something. Down below, the other two stand guard. Though one, the taller one, is getting bored and lights up a cigarette. He manages to get one drag out of it, before the other slaps it out of his hand with a few choice words and stamps it out quickly.

Hearing a familiar sound on the wind, Abigail pauses and looks up, squinting. She remembers the sound of Alliance ships perfectly well, but this is a fairly long way from the docks. It's not amazingly easy to see with the fading light and the streetlamps, but she thinks she spots a Fast Attack ship. Now /that/ gets her attention. Why would something like that be out here? And not just passing, either. For her own curiosity, she decides to wait and see if it circles again, or moves on.

Boxer shrugs and replies, "suit yerself." He takes no offense, content so fade into the background as one of several hundred street dwellers that still call this particular slum home, despite the bridge that uprooted everything.

"The hell?" Nikki means to say that in Mandarin. Her pronunciation is sufficiently awful that it comes out as a knitting technique. There was the dull orange spot in the thermal camera that winked out as her banking turn resulted in the bridge structure obscuring the signature. It reappeared, and then came the flare of white heat from the cigarette lighter. The pilot frowns. She straightens up for a lateral pass, her head turning as she passes, but there's nothing to add to her previous observation. To hell with the hard deck. At the far turn she dives sharply, pulls hard G to the right, and the AFAS comes screaming down the length of the bridge at the bridge deck level and fifty yards to the side. She's taking a good look.

<FS3> Donna rolls 5: Good Success. (2 8 5 9 10)

The two people in the pillar freeze when the Alliance ship comes cruising past at close proximity. Then there's a whirlwind of activity, which may show as flickering dots on the heat scanner. And then… two red dots of heat slide a loooong way down along the pillar back to terra firma. There's a hectic conference and stuff being packed.

That is /definitely/ not usual. The smart thing to do here would be to get the hell out of dodge and back to the ship, and away from whatever is going on. Abigail, however, is not always the smartest. And she figures that whatever has drawn that fighter craft here isn't going to be too dangerous on the ground, not with all of the people around. Thus proving that everyone gets it wrong, sometimes. She turns on a heel and paces back the way she came, under the bridge. As she passes Gideon, she says quietly, "Head's up. Somethin' is goin' on and I ain't sure what. Might wanna get outta here."

Boxer - and a solid half of the others camped out near or under the bridge - turn and look up at the AFAS tearing along at low altitude. "Fed ship!" "Get gone!" "Purplebellies!" "Scatter!" The vendors of illicit goods are quick to make those goods disappear, followed quickly by their customers and themselves. People duck into buildings and down alleys. Nobody wants to find out the hard way that they're the reason that AFAS has shown up.

Leaving Boxer in his wake, as Gideon passes Abigail and hears her words, his brow furrows. "Then why're you goin' - " he begins, then looks around. He could go the way of the rest of the ne'er-do-wells, or he could follow Abigail, who seems respectable enough. Turning, like a moth drawn to the flame of trouble, he follows Abigail.

"Eavesdown Group, Fox Two on yours." Nikki pulls round in a tight bank to the right, away from the bridge. The gimballed thermal camera is trying to track the target but having difficulties with Nikki's speed and the relative motions of the city beyond. Still, when the controller replies she's multitasking well. "Group, Fox Two has suspicious activity under the bridge, requesting ground assist." It could be a vagrant trying to find a safer place to sleep. It could be a particularly ambitious graffiti artist. It could be a bat inspector inspecting bats. Her bank brings her coming in perpendicularly, flying over the arch nearest the suspicious activity.

Who are we kidding? She's going to fly under it.

Excellent. People scattering everywhere makes it easier for the quartet to mingle with them and not get noticed on their way to their vehicle, a fast modern MULE with a getaway driver - also in black - behind the wheel. Nikki might spot a MULE moving away at suspiciously high speed. Swerving past Abi, Gideon and Boxer as it does so.

Tick…

Tick…

Abigail is telling herself that she's going because she wants to make sure her friend is safe, but the truth is that she doesn't actually care that much about him. Her old Fed senses are tingling, though. She swims upstream in the flow of humanity, looking for people who aren't as panicked, or who stand out. She doesn't notice Gideon following yet, though. When the MULE goes past, she pauses. "What in the hell…" That is /much/ too nice to be from here. She tracks back where it seems to have come from, frowning.

"Hey!" Gideon shouts at the MULE, lifting his fist like he's got half a mind to thump the hood of the vehicle with it, were it not for the fact that it's going /really/ fast. He hustles after Abigail then, likely due to a mixture of curiosity and some sort of need to have a show of bravado in the face of potential danger, despite the fact that he's still limping a bit with his left leg from the last time he confronted trouble head on.

Maglev trains and other traffic continues to move across the bridge, oblivious to the danger.

Saoirse is a little bit late to the party. She arrives in the area just as that fighter craft is doing its flyby. Her brow furrows as she makes a bee line for the bridge. She slips past scattering people, turning this way or that to avoid getting trampled. She's coming in at an angle that lets her see the speeding MULE leaving, but doesn't get her run over. She takes no note of it for now and continues angling for the bridge.

Abigail is pretty easy to spot on the ground, given that she's both tall, and going the opposite way to most people. She narrows her eyes as she looks around, still trying to see if she can figure out what was going on, and whether whatever nefarious activities were being done were prevented by the arrival of the ship.

<FS3> Nikki rolls Piloting: Good Success. (4 7 2 9 5 7 2 6 10 6)

Nikki's fighter dips at the last moment and flashes under the bridge. The hot exhaust gases blast across the concrete and send spiralling tornados of trash and dust into the air. The concrete pillars are cleared, there's a moment of complete disorientation as the nav lights are glaring in the darkness, and she's out the other side pulling sharply up. This is where her training and her instincts come to the fore. The craft is flipped inverted as she pulls over the top of the climb and she's corkscrewing to follow the MULE. "Fox Two is pursuing a suspect, request permission to engage." The Alliance doesn't do justifiable cause.

As that trash gets blow up by Nikki's exhaust, a ratty old piece of blanket comes flying toward Gideon. He swats at it, furiously, and pauses for a minute in his pursuit of Abigail and whatever trouble may be afoot. "Gorram - " he begins, then lets out a string of curses that leave no question as to his low opinion of the Alliance.

The MULE begins to swerve in a zig-zag course when the anxious driver realizes they are pursued by a … ship. Which they can never outrun. But they can try to make it to a nearby built-up area where a ship couldn't follow them through streets lined by high-rises…

And then…

BOOM!

Suddenly there's a spark, a ball of fiery orange-red and smoke billowing from the pillar just under the bridge along with some almighty noise. But thanks to Lieutenant Kennedy's fly-by preparations had been cut short and the explosives are only just strong enough to tear a large hole into the bridge's structure from underneath, while the actual pavement and railway lines only show some little tears zig-zagging through the tarmac. Bigger and smaller chunks of concrete start raining down on those underneath the bridge though…

<Chance> Donna flips a coin: Success.
<Chance> Abigail flips a coin: Failure.
<Chance> Saoirse flips a coin: Success.
<Chance> Gideon flips a coin: Success.

Abigail spends 1 luck points on Thrilling Heroics..
<FS3> Abigail rolls Athletics+5: Great Success. (7 6 7 8 9 10 1 5 6 8 4)

BOOM! Now, explosions are nothing new to Abigail. It's been a long time since she last experienced one, mind you. But they're familiar enough that she doesn't panic, and she reacts /very/ quickly. An old soldier, through and through. She turns, and with the world suddenly in slow-motion, sees Gideon and the debris that is raining down upon them. Rather than being hit with flying concrete, he finds himself hit by a flying Abigail, flung backwards. She's not gentle about it. And the piece of plummeting concrete that may well have ended his life in an inglorious heap with a splattered head, instead hits her and leaves her crumpled on the ground nearby. There's too much dust and debris to see exactly where she's been hit and how badly, yet.

Nikki spends 1 luck points on Thrilling Heroics!.
<FS3> Nikki rolls Piloting+5: Great Success. (6 7 10 3 3 4 10 8 2 4 8 2 4 8 1)

Really, he should have been expecting it, right? A MULE racing /away/ from something is the WRONG way to go. But he knows that woman! And she seems like an interesting lady who has her head on her shoulders - and suddenly there's a loud noise and he's flying backwards. He falls on his rear with a thud, then blinks, stunned at first, his hands reaching up in a belated action, to protect his head from any other debris that might be still raining from the sky. "HEY!" he shouts in the dust, remembering Abigail and the force of her thudding against him, but unable to see her yet due to the cloud of dust. "HEY! WHERE DID YOU GO?" he shouts.

The blast catches the fighter and it bucks, Nikki grunting an obscenity. Her head twists each way as she looks over her shoulder, but the AFAS is not great for back views. "Fox Two, it exploded," she says tersely and not particularly helpfully. Where's the MULE? Right there, but she's already past a good firing position being way faster. So the fighter dives, the airbrakes erupt from the wings, the harness straps cut in to her shoulders with the deceleration, and anyone in the MULE looking back is going to find a fighter come in veeery low. If one was to anthropomorphize the AFAS and the MULE, one might say the AFAS was trying to mate. Nikki thinks it would be useful to not smush the MULE, but it's more of an internal suggestion than a fixed rule at this point.

<Chance> Donna flips a coin: Failure.

Vehicular traffic grinds to a halt on the bridge, as the structure shakes and starts to crack from the blast under that one pillar. Honking. Yelling. Two youths on hoverbikes weaving their way up through traffic because they can. The other vehicles have stopped in both direction, the lanes emptying on whichever side is downstream of the epicenter, and jamming up as people keep coming onto the bridge from either end… until that too grinds to a halt. The next maglev train is making its way across, without ANY signs of slowing down.

The MULE really doesn't want to mate. The driver slams the brakes hard, which turns the vehicle around almost 180 degrees, revvs, then turns 45 degrees left to make for what he hopes is a side street leading into the built-up area. But he's hopelessly confused now with the fighter so close on his tail and he smashes into a fence he hadn't seen. The five people dressed in black clamber out quickly and try to make a run for it on foot.

Saoirse has come to a stop. She looks up and then around her. Just in time to see Gideon shoved out of the way of falling debris and a familiar face get hit. She glances up to the bridge again and shakes her head, then turns and runs toward Gideon and Abigail.

Right now, there's way too much dust and debris to spot Abi. She's there, though. On the ground. Conscious enough to curl up into a ball with her arms protecting her head, but not to do much else.

Grunting, stunned and thus probably even more confused than he usually is about reality, Gideon rubs his eyes, as if he thinks that'll clear his vision. Rolling onto his knees, he starts to crawl in the direction from which he was thrown, attempting to feel his way toward Abigail.

<FS3> Saoirse rolls Mind: Success. (8 3 7 7)
<FS3> Nikki rolls Piloting: Success. (7 4 6 6 1 1 2 3 4 9)

The maglev train keeps right on going… hovering over the compromised pillar at speed. A smaller shower of debris comes down from the bridge, and the cracks up on its deck grow, convincing the various drivers of the stopped vehicles - especially on the front line - that they do NOT want to stay there. The train makes it across, but the bridge is making new noises, like it wants to join a rock group as the new, eclectic drummer. This mixes with more yelling and more honking, as vehicles start trying to turn around.

Nikki is concentrating on many factors, the most important of which are not flying into anything bigger than her fighter. So the MULE's evasive maneuver is, at first, successful. She glimpses the movement out of the corner of her eye and whips the fighter round in a hard right bank. The aging airframe creaks at the heavy G and several lights light up red in the cockpit, but none are big and none are accompanied by whoops or klaxons or computers calmly telling her she's going to die, so she ignores them. "Fox Two, weapons hot, returning fire." Liaaaar. As the crashed MULE comes into her sights she opens up with the cannons for a not very short but mostly controlled burst. The cannons are big beasts.

Saoirse can't see for the dust and debris. What she's following is the mental image in her head of where Gideon and Abigail happened to be. For the moment, she seems to be going the right way! But the dust billowing from the falling stuff is making it hard to see. But she's going the right direction. "Gideon?" she calls out. "Where you two at?" She glances up at the bridge again, but doesn't stop. This is going to get bad, fast. She looks back to trying to find the two through the dust.

Boom. Sure, Nikki, lay waste to the whole district to waste while you're at it. The MULE blows up and most people are thrown into the dust from the impact, though one lone figure gets away and disappears into the darkness. Leaving Nikki with four black-clad people lying in the dust. Maybe at least one is still alive.

By now the sky and earth are heaving with emergency vehicles. A cruiser acts like a replacement sun from above to bathe the bridge in cold light. The fire brigade has turned up to stop any traffic from accessing the bridge. Nothing down below yet, since the area is meant to be deserted and who cares for some scum that still lives there?

There's a bit of stirring in the dust. A part of Abigail knows she can't stay there. Right now, she's not sure where /there/ is, and her brain is telling her that it's a warzone, but whatever it is and whatever is going on, lying there isn't going to be useful. She's not up to getting to her feet, but she does manage to heave herself up enough to be seen. A grey, dust-coated shape that's not as blocky as the concrete.

"Hey!" Gideon says, when he reaches the grey, dust-coated shape. After touching the shape, making sure it's human with a light touch of his hands, he then says to her: "We gotta get out of here! Hey! Who is there? This is Gideon! I'm here!" In his panic, he doesn't necessarily recognize Saoirse's voice, but he's glad to hear someone calling his name. "We need help!"

Then, just in case, he digs into the pocket of his overalls and reaches for his cortex-access device, dialing a number and shouting into it: "Send help to the Sunrise Bridge! We're down beneath it!"

Who cares about the people living below? Saoirse does, that's who! Or, at least, she cares about two specific people who happen to be there. And then when one of them sits up, her eyes finally find what she was looking for. And hear Gideon calling back. "It's Saoirse," she says as she comes up to the pair. "Yeah, saw what happened." She glances up again. "I don't think we have time to wait. We have to get out of here before more debris comes loose."

"Fox Two, target neutralized." Now there's a euphemism. Nikki pulls up and recommences her circling, a little lower and a little faster and consequently a lot noisier than before. While she waits for the ground support to arrive she starts to attend to some of the blinky red lights in the cockpit, scowling at them.

Soon enough two Federal hovercrafts come zooming in, each bringing a team of four people. Which is enough to secure the scene and inspect the four bodies of the terrorists that Nikki's cannons brought down. Three are dead, the fourth unlucky sod will be taken in for some very serious questioning. "Well done, Fox Two.", the voice of the commander pipes up in Nikki's cockpit, "We'll take it from here."

<FS3> Finnegan rolls Medicine+5: Great Success. (10 4 8 10 3 8 7 2 4 4 10 1 3 5 7)

So… Gideon had called in to the Eavesdown Clinic, all distressed. "Send help to the Sunrise Bridge! We're down beneath it!" Whichever nurse was on comms answered with: "Message received. Who's we? Can you give us information about how many injured there are?" She'd have stayed in touch with him, passing word that help IS on its way. At the clinic, they'd have started to see news feeds… an explosion of unknown magnitude at Sunrise Bridge, damage, panicked people. Your usual sort of chaos. And they DO send both ambulances over, loaded with crew and medical goods. It takes just under an hour to get there.

Of course, there are response vehicles of all types - Fed and medical and reporters and lookyloos - it's a madhouse. The bridge keeps crumbling ominously. The vehicles that were up there slowly filter off and get directed out to side streets, some heading off to find alternative ways across the ravine, others going home, some sticking around to watch the show. People continue to filter out of the slums. Presumably the small group of Abigail, Gideon, and Saoirse is among those putting more distance between themselves and the bridge. Other ambulances arrive, forming a perimeter where they can check on people coming out of the affected area. Some intrepid first responders head into the area, going house to house, checking for any injured that might not have been able to move. The ambos from Eavesdown finally arrive, one joining the line and the other hovering. Donna gets on comm. "Gideon, what's your sitch? Are you still out there? Can you give us a location?"

Gideon would have tried to enlist Saoirse in moving Abigail if they could determine that she could be safely moved - if not free of the rubble, then under some cover. If movement wasn't safe, he would've attempted to make cover for them, even if only partial, as he's not entirely convinced there wouldn't be more fall out. When his device rings again, he answers it, then explains: "We're kinda like - over by the tall thing - with the spots and the jagged edge that kinda looks like the mountains on Beatrice - you're gonna need one of 'em stretcher things I reckon."

<FS3> Saoirse rolls Medicine: Failure. (2 5 3 7 2)

It's not /too/ difficult to get Abigail moving, since she seems to be driven by a need to get clear. She needs support to walk, though. She's absolutely covered in dust so it's difficult to tell her injuries, but some of it on her head is slowly staining red. She's talking, but it's low and difficult to catch. Something about a sergeant, and air support, and … was that something about the Independents?

Saoirse knows very basic first aid, and so is not really much help in determining moveablility. Her reply would have been to first look helpless, then shrug and say, "If it was something to slap a bandage on, I'm good. This?" Nope. But if Abigail made it up on her own? Or with help, she'll certainly help support the woman if that was what was decided on doing.

Finnegan got called in for this one. Everyone got called in who was not already at the clinic. Everyone who was paying attention to comm devices and not floating in the water, JUDE. Doctors don't generally jump right into the fray when something like this happens - they let first responders tell them if it's safe. What helps no one is a doctor getting injured trying to help someone who's buried in rubble. Instead, Finnegan stays with the support personnel who set up a triage area, with radios blaring so they can keep track of advertised need, ready to jump in if they get someone they're afraid can't be safely moved, or might need spontaneously limb removal for survival. As many of the response-team personnel as can are supplied with hard hats.

Donna's in the hovering ambulance, trying to pinpoint the person that initially called for help. "I think I got you," she says through the comm. "Keep going the way you're going… there's a triage point just a block ahead, in an empty lot on the right. Did you see anyone else in trouble that needs extraction?"

"I dunno," Gideon says, standing on one side of Abigail to offer her support as they walk. He's short, but solid, the perfect human crutch. "There were a bunch of people here - they started runnin' when the Feds started flyin' over head. I ain't sure how far things went or any of that."

Abi's a fairly big person, so it might well take the two of them to manage her. She doesn't add much to the conversation, and although she's conscious (barely), she's not very lucid. At one point, she asks them both whether they've contacted Alliance command, though.

"I didn't see anyone else on my way in," offers Saoirse. "But I wasn't really looking for anybody but you two." And she's very not big, so yeah. Two people are definitely good in this case helping the injured one! She blinks and looks sideways at Abigail. Then nods. "Yeah, command has been contacted."

This is a big enough mess that there are lives that actually need saving, not just scrapes and bruises. There are plenty of those, too, but they'll have to wait until the desperate are tended. One of the things about terrorist is that it doesn't just impact those who are responsible for the event or condition that's being protested. Finnegan mumbles to her nurse assistant that the Feds really should get infrared and dogs out here, even as she intubates someone who has a piece of rebar though his abdomen. "We need to transport as soon as possible. Let's get him on a pint of O positive."

"Okay, thanks," Donna says through the comms. "We'll stay airborne for a bit, and try to coordinate with the other response teams… figure out where we can help most. Do you see the triage tent now?" she checks, really hoping that the group of three that she has eyes on is, in fact, Gideon, Abigail, and Saoirse.

"I think I see a tent and some people, Donna. I dunno what triage is on a good day," Gideon sounds tired and frazzled, grateful to be on his feet, but worried about Abigail and the city that he's come to call home. He'd typically affect a bit of humor when admitting his lacking vocabulary, which is likely why he made the comment, but it falls a bit flat. "C'mon," he says, turning to Saoirse. "She says we gotta go to a tent."

Timur had been engaged in his latest occupation when he wasn't fixing things, haunting the street around Eavesdown Clinic. So, when the ambulances went out, he paused for a moment, but then… he sets off at a jog trot in the wake of the emergency vehicles. When he arrives on the scene, he begins scanning faces, rather than gawking at the actual scene itself. He edges closer towards the tents, somehow able to worm his way through people without them fussing overly much, something a man of his height rarely does but he's rather thin for his height. He's wearing sunglasses, his sole bit of 'disguise' for the spying he's been doing lately.

Abigail screws up her eyes against the bright lights that are turning the darkness of early night into something much more illuminated. "Shouldn't be so bright," she mumbles, "Gonna give away our position to the Indies… Tell 'em to get them off…" She's still leaning on them both, but her legs are working well enough. She's more disoriented than anything.

Normally, Saoirse's red hair would make her stand out like a sore thumb. However, with the dust from the air under the bridge coating it, it just looks a dull brown. Saoirse nods, and peers through what dust still hazes the air, seen in the emergency lights. "I think I see one, up ahead. Bit to the left," she says. She glances at Abigail again. "It's okay. We made it away from the front. No Indies here."

"Get a compression bandage on that," Finnegan calls to one of the nurse trainees who is flustered and confused. There's enough blood coming out of the wound that Celeste would be a puddle of unconsciousness on the floor, if she were here. The trainee says, "Yes m'am!" and gets right on it, glad to have instruction. Meanwhile, Dr. Hill listens to a child's chest with her stethoscope and asks the mother that's standing worriedly by, "Do you have a rescue inhaler? Did you give it to him?" To an EMT that's waiting for her analysis, she says, "Nebulizer, albuterol 2.5 mg mixed with ipratropium bromide. Don't worry, Honey, you're going to be okay. It's just all the dust making it hard to breathe." And then she's looking for the next patient, which might just be.. Abigail!

<FS3> Saoirse rolls Persuasion: Good Success. (9 6 3 8 9 2)

<FS3> Timur rolls Alerness: Embarrassing Failure. (1 7 6)

"Hi Doc," Gideon says, before his player has to go idle. "I didn't have nothin' to do with it, I swear," he adds, still at her side. Once Abigail is safely turned over to medical personnel, he goes to sit his butt down and stay out of the way, unless someone needs him.

Just like the others, and probably everyone else, Abigail is absolutely covered in dust. It's not a pretty picture, since she's also sweating and bloodied, so it's nicely caked in. She calms down with Saoirse's words, nodding - and after she nods, she gives a hiss of pain as her head objects rather strongly to said nodding. "Good," she says to the no-longer-redhead, "Gorram… terrorists. There ain't no cause to be hurtin' innocent folk… This is why we've gotta stop 'em…" She's still grumble-mumbling as they reach the medical personnel and she's handed over.

<FS3> Timur rolls Alertness: Good Success. (4 1 9 8 2 3 10 3 6)
<FS3> Saoirse rolls Alertness: Success. (5 8 5 1 6)

Saoirse nods and pats Abigail's arm. "Yeah, I agree. 's why I'm here." Once the taller woman is handed off to medical personal, Saoirse stays nearby, but out of the way. On hand if anybody needs anything carried or help with non medically things. Her eyes, those are still hazel despite the dust!, roam around, taking in what's going on while her brain tries to sort through the confusion of what had happened and is happening.

<FS3> Finnegan rolls Alertness: Good Success. (8 7 10 6 7 10)

"I know that, Gideon. If you had set out to destroy a bridge, it wouldn't still be standing," Finnegan says, with a fraction of a smile. She only has time for that one fraction of good humor, Abi is handed off to her and she says, "Let's get you over here onto the table." It's a literal table, not a bed. "Ms. King, can you hear me?" Then again, Abigail is speaking and, though it's not the most coherent of grumble-mumbling, it's words and they go together in a logical order. Good sign. "Where are we, Miss King? Can you tell me your full name?"

Having consulted with whoever is in charge of this pandemonium (someone IS is charge by this point, yes?), the second Eavesdown Clinic Ambo circles over the triage tents and lands behind them in the empty lot, next to its twin, in a spot that was properly cleared for this maneuver. Donna and two other nurses pour out, each carrying bags loaded with medical supplies, and they head over toward the triage point. They fan out a bit, Donna striding on short legs to reach the table where Finnegan is working. "All our clinic resources are here, sticking together now," she reports as she sets down her own load and moves to get gloves on.

Looking around the tents first, at the non-bloodied and cake dusted people, Timur doesn't recognize anyone. As his eyes adjust to the triage lights, he pulls them down, folds them closed, and tucks one earpiece in the front of his t-shirt collar. He peers slightly at a dusty, bloody, woman, then passes her over until he hears 'Miss King'. Gaze returning, he pauses a moment, then decides to chance it. He crosses the line with the intent of going to her side. Perhaps his resemblance to someone who really /does/ belong around the Eavesdown Clinic personnel gets him through and on his way to the tent.

<FS3> Donna rolls Alertness: Good Success. (9 1 3 3 2 2 10 6)

Though Saoirse's gaze goes past Timur, she doesn't seem to notice him right now. Too much else going on, likely. She goes and finds a quiet spot, relatively speaking, and sits down.

Abigail gets up onto the table without too much trouble, although she has to climb rather than hop as she usually would. She's still squinting against the light. "King, Abigail," she answers Finn, which is a good sign. But then she follows it with, "Lieutenant, 342 Alliance ground division. Service number 4251 dash 2162." After speaking that bit clearly, she coughs from the effort of it.

"Donna, let's get those patients over there loaded and transported. They're as stable as they'll get out here… Send Jennifer with them." She withdraws a pen light and looks into Abigail's eyes, frowning at her response. "What ship do you currently serve?" She looks in ears and nose, then listens to Abi's chest.

Donna does notice Tim's approach, but doesn't pay it much mind. She looks thoughtfully at the patient laying on the table now, and takes in the doctor's instructions. "Yup, on it," she answers, all business-like. "Max, would you give us a hand?" she asks, as she heads that way, motioning for him to follow. The most critical patients are already loaded onto stretchers, and Donna tells Jennifer, "let's get these two strapped down for a long flight, and take this group back to the clinic."

Timur is almost to Abigail, and even says, "Ma'am…" but before he can continue, he's being summoned as 'Max' and he blinks. "Not Max," he says automatically, but it appears that help is needed of a non-medical nature, and he can give that help. "I'll just help these folks and be right back, ma'am," he tells Abigail, and then goes over to assist in transporting a person to the flying ambulance.

Abigail flinches as the light is shone, her pupils slow to shrink. Her nose is coated with dust, and when she breathes, there's some noise there from all the dust she's inhaled. Heartbeat is steady, though, and strong. She blinks a few times. Tim isn't ignored, but there's too much to react to for the moment. Finn's question throws her off, and she frowns. "Ship… Right… I've been on a ship."

Finnegan checks Abigail's blood pressure, pulse, and oxygen saturation levels. She's looking for signs of actual respiratory distress or internal bleeding. "We're going to need to get a CT scan." She decides to put an oxygen mask over Abigail's face to help with the breathing.

Donna looks back over at NotMax, giving him a closer look. "So you aren't," she agrees. "You do look a lot like him, though… sorry. If you're willing to help us get these patients to the ambo, it would be appreciated." She moves to work on strapping down one stretcher patient while Jennifer works on the other. Neither of them actually asks who Timur is, at the moment. With the stretcher patients secured, Donna turns to count off a few more patients. "You, and you two, if I'm not splitting anyone up, you three come on the first ride."

"It's alright. I'm… getting used to it," Timur manages to say as he sets himself to a stretcher and waits for the count to lift and carry. He'll accompany the stretcher to the ambo, and assist in gently and precisely setting the patient in and rolling the gurney forward. He pays attention how to lock the wheels, then he's walking back to the tent to help with the next one, glancing over towards Abigail in the process to see how she looks.

There doesn't see to be any internal bleeding, and Abi's just got a load of dust rather than any permanent damage to her lungs (other than what she's already done with smoking, of course…). There's a cut on her head that's bled plenty, as head cuts do, and some other sticky spots where the dust has been dyed red, but other than that, she's in decent shape. Better than a lot of the unfortunate people. She coughs a bit more, then quiets down.

Finnegan takes gauze and clean water and starts to clean up the cut on Abigail's head. "Hey Max, can you please get me another laceration kit from the other table? I'm out here." Seems everyone is subject to the Maxishness of Not-Max.

Donna and Jennifer work together to carry the front end of the stretcher, as Timur picks up the other end. The other ambulatory patients follow along and climb into the vehicle when bidden. The first stretchered patient is locked into place and the trio returns to carry the second one over the same way. "He's not Max," Donna points out as they close back in and Finn makes the very same mistake. She at least scoots over to the other table to grab the requested lac kit for Finnegan, setting it down with the requisite "laceration kit", and even opening it up. "back in a few," she assures, as she scoots back over to the second stretcher where Jennifer's waiting for the assist.

"Not - " Timur's about to say the automatic response again when Donna clears it up for him. So, he simply nods and waits quietly in place until Donna's given Finnegan what she needs, and then he lifts his end of the stretcher again, and continues to help.

"So he's not," Finnegan says, doing a double-take, almost as if she and Donna had pre-planned a comedy skit to present to the world. "Thank you." She flushes Abigail's head wound, cleans it with antiseptic, and the bandages it to keep it clean.

EAVESDOWN CLINIC

Ambulances are loaded. They make inquiries about whether they should take patients to some nearer trauma center, but everything's jammed from the bridge event, and they're encouraged to return whence they came. Thus, an hour later, the ambos are being unloaded and patients wheeled or hovered into the clinic, where hopefully a few staff have managed to gather and prepare to meet them. Timur, being helpful, would be offered a ride back with them. Abi gets the pleasure of a one hour ride strapped to a stretcher on the partially-shielded exterior of the ambo. They're carrying as many as they can, to get them to stable treatment. The stretchered patients from the first ambo are already being settled into the exam rooms, and Abi's brought to a quiet corner of the clinic's main room to wait while they reconnoiter. Donna steps over to check on her. "How are you doing at this point? Do you remember me, we just met yesterday?"

Now that she's slightly less confused, Abigail is holding up about as well as can be expected. She does, unfortunately for her and anyone around her, throw up at one point but with enough warning to get it into a bag or something. By the time she's in the clinic, she's more tired than anything. The cut on her head, nicely cleaned and bandaged, isn't a big one. And the rest of the blood on her is just from scrapes and bruises. She sits quietly until Donna comes over, then squints. "…Sky's not-mom, right?"

Finnegan is subject to the commands of the senior doctors working the emergency, so she tends to the cases she's assigned. The asthmatic child is still being watched, but seems to be doing much better. The rebar guy is in surgery with Dr. Ito and Enya. Finnegan has a crushed hand to attend to, but it's going to take more than a few minutes to repair, so she tells Dee to prep the man for surgery while she comes over and asks, "How's she doing?"

If that vomiting was mid-flight they'd have had to do some fun maneuvers to get Abi's airway clear… maybe even landing for a minute. Settled at the clinic, Donna nods as Abi recognizes her. "That's right. I'm Donna," she says, to fill in the blank. "Any more nausea?" she checks. Turning to Finn, she also switches to medical-speak. "Her vitals are up, BP 150 over 80, pulse ox 94, responsive and able to recall an event from yesterday." (I just made those numbers up… they should mean 'okay'.) "You wanted a CT scan, yes? As soon as one of the other rooms clears?" She looks back to Abigail, letting the patient speak up if there's anything else on her mind.

"Little bit. I'm all right." Abigail isn't the biggest fan of sitting in hospitals, it has to be said. But then, who is? "Head aches somethin' fierce. Just gimme some painkillers, I'll be fine." She nods to Finn, and immediately regrets it as a fresh bloom of pain thuds into the front of her skull. "Doc," she greets, a touch strained.

Finnegan nods to Donna, "CT Scan." She ignores Abigail's request to be sent on her merry way with pain killers. She takes out her little pen light again, because it must be done, shining the beam in Abigail's eyes. "I'd actually like to keep you overnight. I don't like the disorientation and you can't be too careful with head injuries." She just wants to be Abi's absolutely favorite person.

Donna gives Abigail a sympathetic look, and a small nod. She gets the urge to self-diagnose and be on one's merry way. The nurse also knows that doctors love to take the opposite approach. She gives Finnegan a firmer nod. "I'll make sure a bed is prepped. Can we give her something for the pain?" Even if it's not a walking-out-the-door thing, the nurse still checks on the possibility. "Might take us an hour to get to the scan, as it is," she tell Abi, apologetically. "We can contact your ship, let them know where you are."

Abigail grimaces, but it's probably a sign of just how awful she feels that she doesn't argue any more than she has. She's not actually sure she could walk out of here, herself. Even that little pen light makes her head hurt all the more. "Yeah… a'right. Seraphim. Be obliged if you let 'em know." She draws in a breath. "What in the gorram hell happened, anyway? An' is the kid all right? What's his name… Skyler's friend?"

<FS3> Donna rolls Mind: Good Success. (9 7 4 8)

Finnegan continues to examine Abigail - she wants to make sure it's safe to give her something for the pain, then prescribes something with a satisfyingly scientific name, like Meloxaten 30 mg oral. She notes it into her tablet so that Donna can get the medication from the dispensary. "I heard you vomited? How's the nausea now?"

Donna nods reassuringly to the patient. "We'll get word to them." At the questions about what happens, and Skyler's friend, it takes the nurse only a second to connect the dots. "Gideon? He's okay. He and Saoirse said they's catch up with us. There was an explosion at Sunset Bridge." She leaves it at that for he moment, since Finn's offered up a prescription order. "I'll get that right away… and send word to the Seraphim. I'll be right back."

"Thanks," Abigail tells Donna. At the mention of an explosion, she frowns. Her memory of it all is slightly hazy, but returning. "Eh," she says to Finn, "Better'n it was, but I don't reckon I wanna eat anythin'. Not sure it'd stay down.

Finnegan considers and nods, then makes a note in the chart to watch for dehydration. She doesn't see a need YET to IV the poor woman, but she will if she needs to. "Let us know if you need anything, okay. And stay put. Don't go running off on me. I just want to make sure you're alright."

As promised, Donna doesn't take long to return with a small cup containing the pills, and another cup of water. Hopefully Abi can get that much down okay.

"Yeah. Okay." Abigail sits back in her chair. She takes the pills when Donna brings them, and sips her water. And she stays just where she's put, without running off. She's sensible like that, most of the time.

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