The hum of radio chatter is broken by a distinct ringtone.
As another emergency call rolls into the Fire Control Centre, Robyn Martyn has a silver tongue and a sense of calm determination.
Her neck is adorned with a precisely tied scarf, she has a warm smile, kind eyes and a decidedly super-human ability to get things done.
About 70 klicks from Tamworth in the small town of Quirindi, the Liverpool Plains Fire Control Centre is a hive of activity.
Every bushfire in the district is handled here.
Ms Martyn works in logistics, she's one of four people who look after more than 100 firefighters on the frontline.
Without logistics, the entire operation would come to a grinding halt.
"Anything that happens that can or may go wrong, is something that comes to logistics and we endeavour to fix it," Ms Martyn said.
"You have to be reasonably diplomatic.
"If there's something big happening it can be a high pressure role, because everyone is wanting something from you at the same time and they all want it immediately."
The long table in the centre of the room is strewn with papers. Everything from invoices, to lunch packs and broken windscreens that need fixing cross the bench.
The day is broken into blocks. It's not until five to six in the evening that things tend to take a turn for the worse.
"We are fairly organised, we have our procedures in place, but the witching hour is when things go wrong," Ms Martyn said. "Everybody is closed and we have to think outside the square."
On the ground, Rural Fire Service NSW volunteers battle a number of blazes that have ravaged the north west. As soon as major fires look close to containment, thunderstorms wreak more havoc.
Lightning has sparked as many as 20 new spot fires in a night, often in hard to reach scrub where billows of smoke become the hallmark of more lost sleep.
In the fire control centre, blue light from rows of computers illuminate the concentrated faces of dutiful staff.
Each morning staff from National Parks and Wildlife Services, Forestry NSW, Rural Fire Service NSW, the Volunteer Rescue Association, State Emergency Services, Fire and Rescue NSW and even some Canadian ring-ins trickle into the building.
At 0800 the handover brief starts, those who worked through the night will run through the situation with the morning crew. Those in charge are ordained with white smocks, the well-oiled machine is their responsibility.
Deputised for the day is Michael Robinson, he's part confidante, part conductor of chaos.
"You come in prepared, you set yourself up early and make sure systems are in place
and you're aware of what's happening," he said.
"What is critical is the relationships we build before the fires occur.
"So when you walk into a room, you already know people, you have a good relationship, know their capabilities, what their agency brings to the table and how you can help each other out."
Some people in the fire control centre have known each other for years, especially those who work in the local district and came up through the ranks together.
Every fire in the region that appears on the RFS Fires Near Me website has been mapped by somebody in this room.
Raw data is turned into maps, which are then handed to fire crews on the ground to give them a picture of what they are up against.
Teams are split by skills; there's resourcing, operations and communications all housed under one roof.
It's Mr Robinson's job to keep checking the collective pulse.
"It is critical, I have to watch the tempo, watch people and see how they are going," he said.
"I spend a lot of time talking to people and it sounds cheesy but asking if they are okay, what's their workload, if they seem to be struggling.
"We're all fatigued, we're all tired; we're doing a job and getting there - but it's slow progress at times and that's just because of the conditions."
No rain means low humidity. Low humidity fuels a tinder-dry landscape and the tinder-dry landscape fuels fire.
It's a vicious circle, on the rare occasion rain comes through it's not near enough to douse a fire and brings with it a hellscape of lightning.
In the mayhem and misery of scorched landscape, lost homes and lives it can be easy to get caught up in the rigmarole of managing the blazes.
But, it's critical to stay connected to the human side, Mr Robinson said.
"We cannot understate the importance of our volunteers and their employers; without them we cannot do what we do," he said.
"You cannot overlook the human side because we are all humans."
As tough as the work can be, it's the families of those involved in the fire efforts that suffer in silence.
Time away from family is part of the sacrifice volunteers make, Mr Robinson said.
"There's a huge family toll, we're away from our families, working hard-long hours and our families even for the staff her and volunteers - they're the ones that miss out on us," he said.