“Get raptors out to task force
Saturn,” Admiral Lawson barked. “Figure out how we are going to
fill in the gaps the Cylons just tore in this task force.
“We have an encrypted communication from Cory Brooks of the Peoples Council.” The comms officer looked down and read carefully. “Cylon ships in orbit of every outpost of the new Colonies. A model 1 has demanded that we surrender all armed forces in return for an immediate cease fire. Planetary defense fleets have been destroyed.”
“Don’t answer,” Lawson said
coarsely. “Head Geek, come with us we need your hack to get some
kind of edge here.”
“Call me HG sir,” he asked.
“HG you are promoted to the rank of
captain.”
They marched out of CIC where crews
were already replacing the shattered CIC doors.
Minutes later they were in a room with a massive theater sized screen.
“HG show me the schematic of the
Cylon communications network,” Lawson ordered.
He clicked some buttons and a spider
web came up through much of known Colonial space.
“How do they use this network?” the
XO asked.
“Those communications relays we see
are signal boosters. They use FTL technology to transmit burst
communications across the network. Little communications devices,
literally FTL from point to point and upload information on these
relays.” He zoomed and showed the relays which really did look like
giant can openers.
“How did we hack it?” Lawson asked.
“Laymen terms please.”
“When we captured the Cylon supply depot there were millions of these data transfer nodes that FTL all over the place. I reprogrammed them to work for us on the side. We get all their data soon as they do.”
“Do we get force deployments?”
Lawson asked.
HG pressed another series of keys and
red dots popped up all over the map. There was a legend showing ship
types. “Admiral,” he said “they are actually lightly deployed
in the new Colonies. The bulk of their forces are in staging areas
where they will wait for our deployment before setting up a cross
fire,”
A few more keystrokes and what looked
like several bee hives full of ships appeared as big red blotches.
“How many ships?” asked the XO.
“Two hundred base stars overall. Nearly 900 support ships, gun ships and such,” HG reported matter of factually with no emotion in his voice.
“What are those really big ships
larger than their base stars?” Major Peterson asked.
The picture zoomed in on one.
“Resurrection ships,” he answered blandly. “When any Cylon dies
their consciousness, soul for lack of a better word downloads in a
different computer network and can be put in fresh bodies. Galactica
ran away so far this network could not be scaled. So these ships make
up for the lack of network gear.”
“Okay I have an idea.” Lawson was
briefly distracted by hair flopping down into her vision. She brushed
it aside. “We give them part of what they expect to see. We lead a
new task force to New Picon. Small groups of ships jump to positions
where they can defend the Colonies. We build a task force around the
other three Mercury class battlestars.”
She whispered to the CAG and the XO.
They nodded.
“Can we use the Cylon communications
network to contact the civilian government safely?”
“Yes” HG said. “They may
eventually detect the hack. For now their only solution is to bring
down the entire network.”
“Can we bring down the network?”
Peterson asked.
“Yes,” HG answered, “they will
figure out it is us and we might stop getting all this cool tactical
data.”
“All right,” Admiral Lawson said.
“Get the orders out.”
“Admiral,” HG asked, “are we
going to comply with the Cylon demand to demilitarize?”
“Not while I have a pulse,” she
said.
“Cory Brooks is demanding to speak
with you.” A communications assistant walked in the room with a
message, printed.
“That’s nice,” Admiral Lawson said.
“We will talk to here after we jump to New Picon.”
“Cavil, the model one wants your
answer immediately,” the communications assistant said in a grave
voice.
“Don’t worry,” Lawson said. “I am
going to get a coffee. We jump in ten minutes.”
A weapons assistant came up to Lawson
as she headed toward the mess hall and asked her to sign for a bunch
of nuclear weapons that were being tasked to be sent out and used.
* * *
“All right people,” Lawson said,
walking into the CIC. “Give me your ears.”
It took nearly a minute before the room
was quiet and she was set up with fleet wide communications.
“The Cylons think they have us in a
tough situation. They do. They are demanding that if we dismantle our
fleet, they will let us live on the worlds of the New colonies. Life
is tough there. Because we have seen more difficult times, I reject
that premise.”
“So say we all,” one young man said
forcefully.
“The Cylons are demanding that we
jump all our forces to New Caprica for a surrender. We are not going
to do that either. Launch the Assault raptors.”
A few seconds passed by and the chatter
was low, but Lawson could still be heard.
“Raptors are requesting permission to
jump,” a communications NCO informed them.
“Jump the raptors.”
“FTL spooled. Jump key inserted. All
ships report ready to jump.”
“Jump!” Lawson ordered. “May the
Lords of Kobols forgive me.” She whispered to herself.
After the thunderous noise and the
white flash, the navigational team announced they were in orbit of
New Picon.
“Jump complete,” Navigation
reported.
“I need a sitrep on major fleet
groups and Colonies,” Admiral Lawson spoke softly but forcefully.
She had on her best card playing (poker) face.
“How is Athena?” She asked.
“Athena has defeated its resurrection
escorts and has weapons lock on their target.
<Athena>
“New Gemenon,” Lawson asked. She
had a checklist and a rough idea how much of the depleted fleet was
at each location.
“Base Stars are in orbit,” the XO
read off a computer print out.
“New Virgon.”
HG pressed a button and a short video
intercept played.
“New Tauron.”
“Do we have video?” The XO asked.
HG nodded and keyed in a few commands.
“Caprica 3”
HG hit a single button.
“New Airilon.” Lawson’s expression
was impassive, while she wondered if a pistol was still in her
quarters.
HG looked confused.
“File index 787,” a dark haired
female Ensign with black lipstick assisted.
HG keyed in a command.
“New Scorpia.”
HG pressed a key.
“Get
me targeting information on that nuke,” the XO demanded.
“Saturn
is reporting in,” HG said in his I don’t care voice. “Here is the
video.”
“Acropolis has sent in a confirmation video,” a communications NCO pressed in her password and brought up the file.
“New Delphi,”
Lawson asked in the same impassive voice.
“All we have is
her orbital defense Artemis being nuked.” HG offered.
Lawson’s voice
quaked briefly. “Lets see it.”
“DRADIS has a pair of Cylon base
stars,” the DRADIS operator reported.
“I’ve got three more.” DRADIS
reported.
“Are any of the new Colonies free of
Cylon forces?”
“We have not heard from New Libran,”
a communications lieutenant reported hopefully.”
“You are going to want to listen to
this,” HG pressed a button and Cory Brooks voice came through over
crackling static.
“This is Peoples Council Executive
Cory Brooks. I am speaking on the authority of the president. We
accept the Cylon offer. All Colonial forces are ordered to surrender
and disband immediately. We have got to prove we are not a threat. We
surrender.”
“We are going to ignore that
surrender,” Lawson said. Her eyes narrowed and there was anger
showing through.
“Sir,” the XO warned. “The
military situation is dog shit. This may be our only chance.”
“I talked over this scenario with
Brooks,” Lawson said. She knows that surrender means the slaughter
of the human race. We are going to roll the hard six.”
“Brother Cavil wants to speak to
Mercury actual,” communications interrupted.
“That is nice,” Lawson said. “I
could do with another coffee. What do you say XO?”
The speaker crackled. “This is Cavil.
Admiral Lawson you have not assembled the entire fleet here as
instructed. I will destroy New Troy if you do not agree to my
immediately and unconditionally follow these instructions. I’ve
already given the order for the ships to jump in and start the
destruction.”
“That is not necessary. We can move
away from this place.”
“DRADIS,” the triple beep made it
clear that someone was jumping in. “Cylon base stars.”
Lawson leaned over and whispered to HG.
“Get me some information here. How did the raptors do?”
HG wrote a number on a piece of paper.
IT showed 75% success rate.
“Seems you are missing a portion of
your reinforcements Cavil,” Lawson said in the same, callous voice
she had used concerning the mutiny.
“We still have enough to blast your
civilization into dust.”
“That may be so.” Lawson’s
attention was taken away by another print out.
“You have thirty seconds to comply
Admiral,” Cavil warned.
“It’s true, you can rain down fire
and destruction on the New Colonies. I can’t stop you. I am not going
to even try. If you so much as fire a single shot, your resurrection
ships are going to be melted. I’ve got three task forces with guns on
the resurrection ships. We have already cleared the protection.”
“I don’t believe you,” Cavil said.
“Check your comms,” Lawson said.
Her poker face was on. “If you fire a shot, we will initiate a
battle. In that battle each and every death your forces experience
will be permanent.”
There was whispered communication
between the Cavil’s in the Cylon CIC.
“We have you outnumbered 4 to 1.”
“I believe your original plan called
for the odds to be 25 to 1. What went wrong?” Admiral Lawson was
clearly frakking with his head.
“We didn’t kill you when we had the
chance,” Cavil raged.
“Destroy new Tauron,” Cavil
ordered.
“Order the Athena to destroy her
resurrection ship.”
“Now wait just a minute Admiral,”
Cavil remarked, apparently taken aback.
“Get the orders to the other three
task forces and order them to destroy the resurrection ships,”
Lawson said in a cold, heartless tone. She hoped she was selling it
here. “Then shut down the Cylon network.”
Cory Brooks had appeared on a video
feed, but there was no audio. She was gesticulating wildly, trying to
get some kind of point across.
“Cylon nukes are going active all
over the New Colonies,” the XO reported.
“Mister Peterson, Lawson ordered.
“Get ready to launch all squadrons to intercept nukes.”
“Copy that,” he said.
Armageddons had arrived.
Full battle video
End of book 1. Shmuel Bogomolny’s Battlestar Mercury. A fan fiction non-commercial story, purely for the enjoyment of Battlestar Galactica Fans.
The mutiny story was a suggestion of Mullroy234 from the BSG Deadlock discord.
Solaria:Commanders Quarters
Solaria
Lockheart, Ward, Wilson and the
representatives of six other ships all agreed that Zack “Sniper”
Anthony should be their leader. His record with the Colonial fleet
was not tainted like the others. He was on leave the day the Cylons
attacked and had turned down offers from Lawson and Ramirez to take
command of the Athena and Acropolis to remain CAG on a Valkyrie, due
to his opposition to their leadership style and willingness to submit
to budget cuts.
Thirty years old, with a handsome,
athletic build, with the olive skin common on Tauron, he looked the
part of the hero, saving the Colonial fleet from doom.
“They will be back from the refinery grab and in a good mood. We line up our forces to salute their victory and when Mercury passes, we hammer her topside. We want to knock out her fire control and FTL and demand Lawsons surrender.”
Everyone in the group of 8 nodded
agreement. Ward and Wilson were snickering.
“If we do the right damage, she will
go along. If she is weak, she will offer a meeting, which we will
accept on the shipyard. No compromise there. She will come over by
raptor. We surround it with marines in the repair bay. She either
resigns or we end her command, starting with her. We announce my
promotion to Admiral backed up by three allies on the Peoples
Council.”
“Then what?” Lockheart asked.
“We move swiftly. We jump the three
big battlestars to New Picon and we eliminate the Council and declare
martial law. We take any resources we need and prepare for the
offensive to eliminate the Cylons.”
“Do we have to destroy the civilian
government?” A Marine officer asked. “Won’t the people rallying
around us give us the authority we need?”
“We have to be strong. We can return
to civilian rule after the war is won. We need 20,000 human resources
to get ourselves into offensive shape. The people will rally around
success.”
“Perhaps if we make demands of the
civilian government,” Ward suggested. “They might be willing to
listen.”
“If we do not act boldly we will get
mired in negotiations, the toasters will get wind of it and wipe us
out. You have asked me to be your leader. Now take an order. We do
this my way or I am out. I have the moral authority of having a good
record in the Colonial fleet.”
“Also not being a whore!” Wilson
added.
“Call her any name you want,”
Anthony ran a hand through his dark brown hair. “She is a gifted
officer who will kill you where you stand if she gets the chance.
Ramirez is a geek. She is not sure of herself. She might submit to
us.”
“Copy that.”
* * *
There was a failed jump drive that had
to be repaired at the midpoint of the journey back to fleet
headquarters, the shipyard. It took 45 minutes to repair. They sent
raptors ahead to alert the command to the impending Cylon threat.
“All ships report ready to jump,”
the communications officer reported.
“All right,” Admiral Lawson played
with her hair, which was falling out of the tight military bun in
bunches. “We’ll set up a perimeter and get the ships in need of
repairs taken care of first. Commander Ramirez, are you ready to take
task force Saturn back to base?”
“Ready and eager.”
“Make the jump.” Lawson ordered.
Fleet headed for base
After the jump, music blared on the communications channels. The DRADIS showed some ships moving in their direction.
“This is Solaria actual,” the voice
crackled on the speaker. “We are here to congratulate Admiral
Lawson on the successful mission to seize the Cylon refineries.”
Rebels set up Task force Mercury
“Was this mission classified?”Lawson
asked rhetorically. She knew that there was no such thing as a secret
on a warship. “Tell them to get the hell out of the way so we can
get our damaged ships into the repair berths.”
“They are not replying to our orders
Sir,” communications reported. Crews were sweeping up the remains
of two shattered CIC doors.
“They are coming in too close,”
warned an NCO at the DRADIS console.
“This is damned odd.” Lawson
remarked. “Repeat message.”
“Missile lock. Missile lock. The
Apollo and Solaria have missile lock!”
Chaos broke out and everyone was
talking at once. The sound of battlestar guns impacting on the hull
was next.
Mutiny opens fire
“Inbound missiles. We have inbound
missiles coming in topside..”
All the glass shattered on all the remaining CIC doors.
All the lights went dark and emergency
power kicked in. Red lights were flashing everywhere.
“This is Admiral Anthony of the
Colonial preservation league. Admiral Lawson you are ordered to
surrender your command. You are charged with consorting with the
enemy and allowing the destruction of our war effort.”
“Who the frak is that?”
“Fire control is down. FTL is
offline. We can’t get away.” Engineering painted the grim picture.
“I am going to stall for time. Get
that fire control back online. FTL is a must as well. Get me repair
estimates, but put them on paper, don’t speak them aloud. Give me the
frakking phone.”
“This is Mercury actual. Who am I
speaking to?”
“This is Solaria actual. Admiral
Zachary Anthony of the CPL. You are ordered to surrender your ship
and board a raptor for the Fleet HQ. There you will formally give up
your command.”
“You should be aware, Mister
Anthony,” she deliberately avoided mentioning the man’s rank while
someone dug through the personnel database. “That the refinery
operation failed. It was a Cylon trap and they are on their way right
now to attack this shipyard.”
“Nice Try Admiral,” Anthony said.
“You have two minutes to get in the raptor and fly to HQ.”
“Or what?” Lawson asked as a repair
estimate was waved in her face. FTL would take an hour to repair.
Fire control required ten minutes to be brought up. The topside armor
was gone and there was severe hull damage. “You planning on opening
fire on the flagship? That is not going to do the war effort any
good. I’ve got lives at stake here. I will be on that raptor in
fifteen minutes.”
“Ten,” Anthony warned.
“Ten it is,” Lawson agreed. She ran
a hand across her throat indicating that she wanted the transmission
cut.
“Have our forces gather at the
shipyard. We will kick in the burn when we need. Where is Ramirez?
The Saturn?”
“They did not make the jump.”
“We need them. Have the Apollo send a
force recon, two assault raptors, one recon bird.”
“DRADIS. Contacts. Three base stars
seven support ships.”
“Full burn. We need to get to Athena
and the rest of the fleet.”
“You won’t fool us with those DRADIS
hacks,” Anthony’s voice rattled on the monitor.
“Should we tell him?” The XO
whispered in her ear.
“No.” Lawson said harshly. “Either
they figure it out or the Cylons solve our mutiny problem for us.”
“They are moving away from us and
preparing to battle the Cylon fleet,” the tactical officer
reported.
“Leave them to fight for themselves,” Lawson said in a cold voice.
“We lost the Apollo” a faceless voice reported.
Apollo destroyed
“Aren’t we going to need those ships
for the battle against the Cylons,” the XO suggested.
“They just made themselves into cannon fodder.”
“Losing the Ascension, a Artemis,” reported a female voice thick with emotion.
The Ascension
“Radiological alarm,” tactical
reported. “They have nukes!”
“Aimed at us or Anthony’s fleet?”
Lawson asked stone faced.
“Not us Sir.”
“Aren’t we going to help them!”
blurted the XO. “They made a mistake but they have fought on our
side for two years now!”
“XO damage report. How many dead and
wounded did we take?” Lawson’s face could have been carved into the
side of a mountain.
“We took 21 dead and 200 wounded
according to sick bay,” the XO said.
“No we are not going to help them,” Lawson said. “First there are more Cylons headed our way. Second, they opened fire on Colonial forces in an act of mutiny. They sentenced themselves to death, I am just applying it in an special way.”
“Another Artemis Sir,” said an angry voice.
Another mutinous Artemis
“The mutineer’s are getting slaughtered,” the XO another new one Major Brett Peterson, about aged 35. He was a Major now, the talk, skinny blond haired man had been a CAG with the rank of captain a week earlier.
Longer view of the mutineers slaughter
“Better to use Cylon ammo,” Lawson said in a cruel, callous tone.
“Solaria is spooling up FTL, getting ready to jump.”
“Jump the shipyard to emergency
coordinates,” Lawson ordered. “Those Valkyries that stayed out of
the battle, tell them they are in our task force.”
“Shipyard reports they have damage,
could be an hour before they jump.”
“Tell them they might not have an hour,” Lawson retorted.
Ensign Darryl Winston, a short,
overweight brilliant DRADIS operator spoke next. “I have an energy
surge. Cylons will be jumping in any second. Could be up to ten
ships.”
“Get organized,” Lawson barked. “Be
ready to take command of mutinous squadrons once the base carrier is
destroyed. Athena send recon, find out where the frak Ramirez and
task force Saturn is.”
One of the Ramirez hackers, who had
been promoted to IT chief after her elevation, Lev Warner cleared his
throat and go Lawson’s attention. “We have the toaster attack
plans,” he said in a voice that sounded routine.
“Tell us Head Geek,” The XO said
softly, using the man’s call sign.
“Three waves. The first wave is
designated to take care of the mutiny, which the toasters knew about.
The second wave is going after the shipyard. The third will come only
if the second fails. In the next five minutes, if the shipyard is
still year its going to get smoked.”
“You have the attack deployments?”
Lawson asked.
With a click of a button they came on
screen.
“All right, get these assignments
out. Set up a pair of ships to hit the jump in positions of the base
stars.
A wave of of ordinance struck the ship,
causing a thunderous echo that was felt through out the ship.
Cylon assault, wave 2 part 1
Everyone did their jobs professionally. The damage to the fire control systems limited how much Mercury could participate in the battle.
“We have a three gunships coming in low, trying to smash through our lower fleet!” Tactical warned.
Second wave part 2
“Have the Valkyries give them a
broadside. Crash turn starboard,” the XO ordered.
“We have in bounds. We have five base stars coming in high!”
“Get me a status on the shipyard FTL
Gods damn it!” Lawson barked.
The engineering CIC officer who was on
the wireless with the shipyard nodded his head in the negative.
“Recon raptor is back Sir. Task force
Saturn has been engaged by a large Cylon task force,” the deck
flight officer shouted to be heard after the chaos.
“I’ve got more on the Cylon attack
plans,” Head Geek reported. “They have several task forces
assigned to hit the new Colonies. This is the big one Sir.”
There was nothing Admiral Lawson could
do but crack the pen in her hands in two and drop the pieces to the
deck, where they mingled with shattered door glass.
There was a small recording probe above
the fleet. An alert person put this feed on the largest monitor in
the cramped CIC. It showed the Cylons above the station and an
Artemis, trying to use its hull to shield the shipyard.
Second wave part 3
“The second wave is getting ready to
pull out,” Warner reported. “We have inflicted heavy casualties.
Estimate one or two minutes before the final wave comes in.”
Second assault wave ends, two Valkyries join the fleet
The Cylons jumped away, and two
Valkyries jumped in announcing their loyalty. The XO ordered them to
form up with the remaining elements of the fleet and prepare for the
next wave.
They did not have to wait long.
“Five Base Stars just jumped in. They
are out of gun range and are spooling up for a tactical jump.”
It was really all over in about 30
seconds. A Base Star sacrificed itself, jumping into a collision with
the shipyard.
Cylon wave 3, the end of the shipyard
“That is it for the shipyard.”
Lawson stared at the burning debris as
the Cylons turned their remaining ordinance on the smaller ships of
this task force.
“Sir the FTL drives themselves are
salvageable. We can build a new mobile shipyard,” the engineering
officer reported in a skeptical voice.
“Cylons are jumping away,” tactical
reported. “The salvage teams will have the FTL drives secure in
fifteen minutes.
“That is just frakking great. Plot a
jump to New Picon,” Lawson ordered. The second fall, that of the
new Colonies needed to be averted.
“We’ve lost most of our task force,”
the XO growled. “I have emergency repairs on the fire control and
the FTL drives. We could really use a couple of hours to deploy
replacement armor topside.”
“Do we have time Head Geek?” Lawson
asked.
“Probably not.”
“We’ve got a raptor in from New
Picon,” Communications reported. “Cylon base stars have jumped
into orbit. They have radiological alarms.”
Herman Wilson’s grandfather had
commanded a battlestar in the first Cylon war. He had fought under
the command of Eva Lawson’s grandmother, also Eva Lawson. Also an
Admiral by the end of the war. She had used several flagships, the
most famous of which was named Mercury, nicknamed “Mighty Mercury”
a Jupiter Mark ii.
The Solaria had been badly damaged
several times during this war. Right now it was next in line to
receive the Cylon FTL upgrade.
Herman Wilson was a malcontent, with a
record of failure. He had washed out of Viper pilots school, and
barely passed his check ride for the raptor. He had been cut during a
downsizing 2 years before the fall only to be drafted and shunned to
the Solaria, which required 24 by 7 maintenance just to keep it from
falling apart.
He and a few buddies were in the ready
room with an open bottle of whiskey and a serious case of attitude.
“I can’t believe Lawson just sits
there while the politicians cut the budget,” Wilson, a Major and
nearly fifty years old. “I just missed being cut again.”
Barry Lockheart, also a three time
loser in the Colonial fleet, was overweight, and bald. His uniform
was shabby, showing sings of wear on the elbows. “Then who would
they get to command this barge?” He asked.
“They should turn this into a
whorehouse and station them here to take care of the real men of the
Colonial fleet,” Jim Ward, A Captain and the XO of the Solaria
laughed. “The stories I hear are so wild, you’d think they were
fiction.
Ward had managed not to wash out of
Colonial Fleet but this was only due to political connections. He had
been working in the mess hall on the Valkyrie class battlestar, the
Blackbird which had survived the assault due to a fire in the data
center that had taken its entire network offline the day before the
fall.
He was a braggart and boasted often. He
had never laid eyes on Lawson from afar, much less had personal
contact with him. It was well known her exploits in the fleet favored
pilots. “It was about three years before the war. We were on
liberty at Tauron and she came on to me like a Viper pilot on a
target drone. She was a wild one,” he laughed.
“I bet she knew tricks that your
mother didn’t know,” Lockheart took a drink on his Whiskey.”
“His mother knew tricks that Lawson
didn’t know,” Ward let out a disgusting belly laugh.
“I’m serious though,” Wilson tried
to stop laughing. A couple of off duty Marines were taking in the
scene, but were not drinking or participating in the discussion. “She
is not fit for command. Toasters captured her and probably put that
Cylon software in her head.
“You guy’s are full of it. You don’t
have the guts to do anything about this,” Ward remarked.
“There is no chain of command,”
Wilson said, “no honor. They had out ranks like candy. But I’m
serious, we have to find a way to put men of action in command of
this fleet.”
“Everyone knows Lawson whored her way
to the rank of Major,” Ward laughed.
“I heard she was a frakking great
pilot and an excellent CAG, who earned her rank,” A Marine remarked
finally joining the conversation.
“That’s what she said to me after I
frakked her,” a previously quiet officer spoke up. “He stepped
forward standing up straighter as he spoke. “What you are talking
about is a mutiny. That carries the death sentence in a time of war.
Now if you fellows are serious, I’ve got the connections that can
pull it off. So are you a frakking bunch of losers, or do you want to
keep Admiral slut from giving away the entire second war?”
There was silence for a few seconds.
“I knew it,” he snarled. “A bunch
of frakking losers. Enjoy the unemployment line when they lay you
lazy frakkers off.”
“I got the guts to take action,”
Wilson said while puffing out his chest.
“I am with you,” Lockheart said.
“So say we all,” a single forceful
voice in the back of the room shouted.
“So say we all!” The combined
voices sounded like thunder. Energy swept through the crowded map
room.
Task force Saturn
“Commander,” Wilma Jennings, an
enlisted technician reported. “All ships show ready to jump.”
“Combat jump is ordered,” she said
firmly. It was at these moments she least believed she commanded not
only a battlestar but a task force. It sank in as the jump key was
inserted, the nav computers and coordinates were confirmed and the
sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach she always felt during the
FTL jump.
Rock Star and Streak got the assignment
to relay the orders to the task force led by the Saturn and Commander
Ramirez. They arrived just after the jump in, which had been delayed
a few minutes by some technical issues.
“This is raptor two niner one niner,
we have a change in orders for the Saturn ask force. Abort abort
abort. RTB.”
“What the frak? Why? Ramirez asked on
the wireless. This is Saturn actual.”
“This package is a distraction to
take us away from the home systems. These orders are authenticated.”
“Launch all vipers,” Ramirez
ordered. “Execute defensive plan delta.”
Ramirez paced around the CIC, which did
not really have room for pacing on the Mercury class. “Okay
“We are going to try and contain this
situation and get out of this with minimal damage.”
“Salvage team has jumped away,”
tactical reported. “The base stars are trying to bracket us.”
“All ships hard right,” Ramirez
ordered. “Concentrate our fire on the nearest base star.”
“The base stars have jumped further
away with tactical jumps,” DRADIS reported.
“The raiders are alternately running
in a different direction, trying to disrupt our formation,”
Saturn’s CAG announced on the wireless.
“Keep it steady,” Ramirez ordered
in a low voice, barely audible from the noise of the DRADIS console.
Ramirez had come to ely heavily on her
DRADIS operator. Lieutenant Junior Grade Sam “Radar” Kensignton
was one of the few bridge officers with a call sign. He had developed
a protocol and then a computer program that combined DRASDIS and
other signals intelligence to predict Cylon tactics such as tactical
jumps.
He had an instinct for Cylon tactics
and could predict their next move, sometimes just based on squadron
deployments. He was twenty years of age, born on Gemenon, with wild
brown hair that nobody made him cut out of superstition.
Ramirez settled in behind him and
gently rested a hand on this thin shoulders. “Talk to me Radar,”
she said softly. What do you hear.”
“Nothing but the DRADIS Sir,” he
answered. “Their tactics do not make sense. They had an opportunity
due to our deployment to possibly hit our fire control but they did
not take it. Normally they raise their base stars and move towards us
looking for that fire control shot. Today I don’t know they are
drifting away trying to draw us in.”
“They are not going for a win here?”
“No Sir, he answered. They just want
us to stay here.”
Something caught the commanders eye on
a screen installed especially for Radar that flashed through various
sensor images including the feed from telescopes which he had used to
pick up battle recon. “Can you put telescope 4a on a bigger monitor
and zoom in?”
A few seconds later he had an image of
the refinery they were supposed to capture in a grainy zoom image.
Rigged on crucial areas were explosives with communications gear
connected. “They knew we were coming and they knew the mission
objective Sir. They want to keep us here.”
“But why?” Commander Ramirez was
stumped. “Okay everybody for 20 seconds let the battle take care of
itself. I need your brains. They Cylons want to keep us here as long
as possible. They have guessed our mission or knew our mission and
the refinery is rigged for remote detonation.”
“Are you sure?” Jim Preston her 34
year old XO asked. “Their tactics have been bad before.”
“Assume I am. This refinery is much
more valuable to us than them. They probably have fifty more. Why do
they want us here?”
“Toasters don’t need a reason,”
quipped the fire control officer. These sessions, which Ramirez had
adapted from her IT days were anything goes. The only stupid
statement or question was the one not made.
“They have bigger fish to fry Sir,”
Communications a woman who looked like a teenage video game junkie
said. “They are wanting us here to let them hit something else.”
“Lawson’s task force?” engineering
proposed.
“No,” Ramirez directed the
conversation. “Admiral Lawson sent orders by raptor for us to
extricate ourselves from here. Rock Star and Streak made that pretty
clear.
“They are after the shipyard or the
new Colonies Sir. That is the only reason to drag this battle out.
They are wasting obvious ways to cause us casualties.” Radar,
opined.
“Missile salvo coming in high,” the
tactical officer warned. Soon there was the crash and noise of a
barrage that had gotten by the defensive fire and hit the armor.
“A base star just jumped into a
Phobos attack ship,” the tactical officer reported staring up at a
s creen that showed two ships burning.
“Massive missile salvo inbound
targeting the support battlestars,” tactical reported urgently.
“Their gunship is history!”
“Good shots,” Ramirez praised.
“Valkyrie in trouble!” Tactical
reported.
“Radiological alarm.”
There was a flash and one of the
communications channels went dark. “We lost a Valkyrie,” the 24
year old tactical officer reported, her voice full of emotion.
“Two hundred missiles inbound from
port,” warned tactical.
The entire ship shuddered as flak took
out most of the missiles and a few snuck through. The power
flickered.
“Phobos is trying to hack the
Acropolis,” one of Ramirez’s lead geeks reported. “They have
activated counter measures.”
“Cylon base star I making a run for
Acropolis!” tactical reported urgently.
“They know what to do,” Commander
Ramirez replied.
They held their breathes and watched
the screen while continuing to make sure Saturn was dealing with
their attackers.
“Massive inbound fire!” warned two
officers in unison.
“Turn starboard, get the forward guns
on our base star,” the commander ordered. “Salvo fire as soon as
there is a solution.”
After a very tense two minutes, they
say the last base star and an ancient first war Argos go up in balls
of flames.
“Recall the vipers,” the commander
ordered.
“New batch of ships just jumped in,”
DRADIS reported.
“As soon as the birds are recovered
we jump back t o fleet HQ,” Ramirez said, ending the discussion.
“We will jump under fire. Combat landings are authorized.”
Comments Off on Chapter 67: The Cylons have a plan
After the attempted ambush of the
Mercury the Cylons pulled all their forces away from the human
colonies. It was obvious to them that Admiral Lawson was taking a
confrontational approach hoping that a major battle would wake up the
government. It was important to build enough ship capacity to take
the population of these 14 outposts to a place far away from the
Cylon.
Lawson had ordered an aggressive patrol
program, sending out task forces led by the Mercury or the Saturn to
go farther and farther, looking to collect evidence of Cylon war
preparations. Around day 500 since the fall of the 12 Colonies the
government cut funding for military fuel.
This did not stop Admiral Lawson and
Commander Ramirez from their operational tempo. 90% of the fuel that
the new Colonies consumed was provided by the military, which seized
refined Tylium from outposts abandoned by the Cylon. When the
government cut the funding for fuel allocation, they merely siphoned
off fuel that they were capturing.
The Acropolis and the Athena were
finally repaired after long delays, but the government refused to
provide the people necessary to bring those ships back into service.
Lawson and Ramirez cut their own crews and flight wings down, to get
these battlestars back into service.
They tapped their own leadership to get
commanders and paired the Athena with the Mercury and the Acropolis
with the Saturn and essentially commanded these other two ships
remotely. The continued to venture further and further into space to
raid Cylon supplies. It had been months since a Cylon ship had been
spotted on DRADIS.
Eventually the supply of refined Tylium
dried up, so the plan now was to get unrefined product and have the
military refine it themselves.
Every month the shipyard was moved in
hopes that the Cylons would not locate it and destroy it.
On day 564 of the exodus, Ramirez
captured a Cylon parts depot. In the depot was a plentiful supply of
FTL parts, both Colonial and Cylon. Using the same scheme as the
mobile shipyard, they jumped the entire depot to fleet headquarters
at New Picon. There were enough Colonial parts to keep the reduced
fleet operational. Military scientists set to work on reverse
engineering Cylon FTL technology.
Over the next few months it was
discovered that the Cylon jump technology could travel 20 times
farther than Colonial drives. A cautious effort to use the Cylon
technology began. The hacking staff that had sprung up under Ramirez
when she was XO of the Mercury went over the code line by line.
The Cylon jump drive was designed to
operate with the eccentric Cylon that controlled their jumps.
This interface was re-written to
communicate with the control systems of Colonial ships which
generally was in the Combat Information Center (CIC).
Lawson looked down at her printed
operational report on her desk. It showed the 4 Mercury Class
battlestars had been upgraded. The programmers had discovered
numerous back doors that enabled the Cylons to hack in and wirelessly
manipulate and control ships subsystems.
The program had been tested thoroughly
with 20 test jumps of every ship, increasing the distance each time.
This new capability was built into the
reconnaissance raptors. The amount of electronic intelligence that
was being gathered grew exponentially in size, to the point that it
slowed down the massive computers designed to process it and provide
human intelligence analysts data to review.
Lawson was sitting in her office on the
Mercury with a remote camera on her and a screen showing Maria
Ramirez in her office.
“We need to take a refinery,”
Lawson said, stating the obvious. “We are sitting on a mountain of
raw Tylium and we have had to draw down military stockpiles to keep
the civilian economy afloat.”
“I’ve got two candidates,” Ramirez
replied showing the location of two outposts recently scouted by
raptors. Two red lights appeared on the maps they were sharing on
tablet computers.
“Look at that capacity,” Lawson
said eagerly. “If we got them both we could refine enough raw
tylium to supply the entire fleet and the civilian economy.”
“We can have them both but not in the
same raid,” Ramirez answered. We have a very short supply of the
big FTL units that we need to jump an entire refinery. I assume you
don’t want to use the old Colonial jump drives.”
Distracted, Lawson fiddled with the
tablet. “You are right of course. Jumping a tylium refinery is
already an explosion danger. We do not want to multiply that. Lets
send you and the Saturn task force to seize the smaller refinery and
hold it while my group takes the big boy.”
“Yes Sir, that means my task force
will have to defend that location for a full day.”
“Kick the training program into high
gear. I want every squadron and every pilot sharp for this operation.
What kind of coverage do we have for these locations. We need to be
sure the Cylons don’t ambush us or destroy the refinery.”
“With the new jump drives we can
maintain coverage around the clock for a week before raptor readiness
declines Admiral.”
“Lets train up for a week and
strike,” Lawson suggested.
“Copy that Sir.”
“We are going to need to do our own
manufacturing of spare parts,” Lawson said. “More than half the
spare parts we need are either not being manufactured or have been
diverted for use in the civilian economy.”
“I have a plan,” Ramirez replied.
“the intelligence weenies need some time to process the data. Then
two weeks to do recon and we are in the manufacturing business.”
“Human Resources,” Lawson
continued. “We have been ordered to release half our people to
reserve status. We need to maintain a fleet with 2 offensive task
forces and enough defensive pickets to defend 14 outposts.”
Ramirez could only sigh at that point.
“Impossible.”
*
* *
“This is raptor two niner one niner,
we are requesting permission to depart. We are outbound on mission
orders two seven niner Charlie Alpha,” Rock Star, broadcast as he
sat impatiently in the pilots seat. His raptor was based on the
Athena, having been transferred from the Mercury some weeks before.
William Jenkins was his real name. He was 28 years old and had made
the rank of Lieutenant juset before the star of the second Cylon war.
Tall and handsome, his red hair and
freckles were disarming when teamed up with a smile. He looked back
at his ECO who nodded. Jill “Streak” Abrams was 26 and had been
recruited from a refugee camp. She had managed to get through
training and a number of battles until her pilot was killed with a
freak shot through the window on final approach to the landing deck.
She had managed to take over the
controls and get the raptor onto the deck, recovering the bird from a
nasty spin. Though she was a good pilot, she preferred taking care of
electronic systems and weapons to the pilots seat. She had her light
brown hair tied up in a tight knot so it would fit in her helmet.
“Raptor two niner one niner you are
cleared for departure, turn left after clearing the pod, make sure
you are a safe distance away before your jump.”
“Acknowledged raptor two niner one
niner, we are departing” Rock Star answered.
The mission was boring but vital. They
were jumping 15 times further than they had ever jumped before.
Streak ran the checklist and informed
per pilot that there was no traffic to worry about.
“Jumping,” Streak announced.
After the flash of white they were on
the scene of what was possibly the first offensive operation in at
least ninety days.
As thinned out as the ranks of the
fleet were, what was left behind was highly motivated and skilled
group of combat pilots.
“DRADIS on passive. No Cylon
contacts,
“Roger that,” Rock Star
acknowledged. “Lets hope for a boring recon trip.”
“So say we all,” Streak replied.
* * *
All of the ships were ready. The
battlestars, the support ships and the civilian utility fleet that
was tasked to take the refineries. The operation was bold, and was
intended to solve their political problems at home and hopefully
provoke the Cylons into proving their hostile intentions.
The countdown clock showed 30 minutes
until the jump. It would be the longest jump in the history of the
Colonial fleet.
*
* *
Three Cavil’s sat around a table in a
base star that was part of an operational command that was not known
to the rest of the Cylons. This fleet was crewed by only model 1.
“The Colonial fleet is planning on
seizing two tylium refineries we abandoned,” the first one
reported.
“We have to decide whether we are
going to let them,” said the second Cavil.
“It is not an easy decision.” The
third one opined. “They have been cutting military spending. If we
resist, we give them a reason to stop the cutbacks.”
“Our decision to pull back was a long
term decision. If we resist, that process will likely be reversed.
“We have failed to locate Adama and
Galactica. We need to wipe out this larger group of humans,” number
two said.
“The humans are using our jump
technology,” warned #1.
“That means they might be using our
navigational database, complete with a few surprises.” #3 said.
“I hope we get it right this time,”
#2 laughed.
“The other models want to make peace
with the humans,” number three said. “We need to eliminate this
infestation once and for all. They have dedicated two task forces to
this operation.”
“All right,” Cavil #1 said. “We
can hit this fleet, keep it busy while launching our assault on the
14 outposts.”
“Their is a substantial force
guarding the new Colonies,” #3 worried.
“We have agents in place. We will
stagger our assault and over some hours nuke them all.”
“Lets get started,” Cavil #1
smiled.
*
* *
“All boards, all ships,
report green board and ready to jump. Operation gas station is ready
to begin Admiral Lawson,” the communications specialist in CIC
reported.
“All ships jump!” she
ordered. “All birds launch on the other side,” her voice sounded
coarse and a bit husky, like Admiral Adama.
A minute later they were all
in place and the air wings were launching on the other side.
“DRADIS reports every ship
present and accounted for. We are launching the crews that will
attach the FTL boosters to the refinery,” reported a middle aged
lieutenant who was in managing fleet operations.
The ominous triple beep of
the DRADIS console began to chime.
“Oh frak us,” Lawson
said.
“Contact,” the DRADIS
operator shouted. “Five Cylon base stars.”
“They are pretty far off,”
the XO commented. “They don’t seem to be in that big a hurry to get
to us.”
An ominous feeling of dread
came over Lawson. “Launch a bird. Have them jump to fleet HQ and
get a status.”
“What are you thinking?”
the executive officer asked.
“I am thinking they left
this juicy prize here to draw us away from home. They are going to
try and keep us here while they attack the new Colonies.”
“We should send a second
raptor to the Saturn task force and tell them to jump home,”
suggested the deck officer.”
“Good idea,” Lawson
ordered. “Relay my orders. Abandon the refinery and jump for home.
Repeat mission abort, jump back to fleet HQ!”
“Missiles inbound,
targeting both battlestars,” shouted the DRADIS operator. “One
hundred, no two hundred inbound. Some are going to get through.”
There was a roar and shaking
as a salvo hit the Mercury.
“One of the base stars has
jumped above us,” DRADIS warned.
“Upper fleet engage,”
Lawson ordered calmly.
“More missiles inbound,
targeting Mercury and Athena.”
The deck rocked as more
impacts were scored. One of the glass CIC doors shattered.
“Another base star has
targeted us, tracking 80 more inbound!”
“More hits on the flight
pod.”
“Crash turn. They are
tying to damage our FTL,” the Admiral ordered. The ship had barely
begun to evade when the lights went dark and the entire ship shook.
“FTL is offline,”
engineering reported.
“Full automatic on
defensive batteries.”
“Salvage team reports
refinery is ready to jump.”
“Immediate jump is
authorized,” Lawson ordered.
“Cylons are targeting the
refinery,” tactical warned.
“Tell engineering to get
those FTL drives back online,” Lawson ordered.
“Fire control is offline,”
tactical reported.
“Get it back online. Have
the FTL computers warmed up and ready to go,” she barked.
“Vipers report they are
using delay tactics, trying to make us stay here longer.”
“Base star is doing a
tactical jump, trying to get in position to get another nuke in on
our topside.”
“Full right, roll the ship
so they hit something else,” the Admiral ordered.
“All upper fleet batteries
hit them back,” Lawson ordered.
“Athena has a firing solution on one of the base stars,” tactical reported.
“MELT IT!” Lawson
ordered in a gritty voice.
“Splash one Cylon base
star,” tactical reported a few seconds later,
“Fire control is online,”
tactical reported again.
“Weapons free,” the
Admiral ordered. “Target their center axis. Keep rolling the ship
to avoid another hit to the top side.”
“Roger that Admiral,”
reported damage control. “We are losing armor from several
facings.”
She knew that they would be
dead if they had allowed the missile strikes to hit a single point on
the ship.
“Left thirty degree’s lets
help out Athena,” Lawson ordered, “she is having a bad time.”
“Weapon have a solution on
the base star over her fire control.”
“Salvo mode,” Lawson
ordered in a firm voice. “Light them up”
“Base star is spooling for
a tactical, they want to get above us,” Lieutenant Green the
tactical officer reported.
“Offensive posture, light
it up when its jump ends. All batteries with a solution entire task
force.”
“Splash another base
star,” the XO shouted excitedly.
“Salvage Teams report
having trouble with the FTL drive on the refinery. They are being
harassed by raiders,” a female voice from the other end of CIC
reported.
“CAG,” Lawson ordered.
“Give the refinery time to jump.”
“Negative Sir. Bad idea.
It’s a full time job keeping the raiders away from the Mercury,”
Jaybird answered. There was a three second silence as they waited for
the Admiral’s reaction to the contradiction.
“See if you can cut loose
a couple of birds,” Lawson urged but did not use her order tone
voice.
“Too late,” a voice
shouted. “Refinery is going up.”
“Cylons are backing off.”
“Pursue and destroy,”
the Admiral ordered. “Lets get ready to jump home.”
“Athena,” Lawson
growled, take point.
“We have firing solution
on another base star,” tactical reported.
“Melt it,” the admiral
ordered.
“Cylons have backed off
are lobbing missiles at us to interfere with our jump,” the
executive officer informed Lawson.
“Jump us the hell out of
here,” the admiral ordered.
Admiral Lawson had been having trouble
sleeping for many months now. She knew today was the 463 days since
the fall of the colonies. She is just re-qualified on the mark seven
viper. Finding time to fly the minimum hours has been very difficult
for her. The Cylons had not been seen since the attack on the Athena
and the Acropolis 61 days before..
The admiral had instituted a intense
and costly program of training. All pilots were required to fly
regularly. Simulator exercise occurred twice a month. Recruiting was
going slowly since the crews of two Battlestar’s had been
slaughtered.
Keeping the training program funded in
both natural resources and human resources was proven to be a
full-time job. It took her six weeks to find the time to do her check
ride and to remain legally empowered to command of a Battlestar. Her
pilots license.
That task been completed six hours ago.
It was now 3 AM ships time. When sleep was difficult she had a
established the habit of walking around on the least travel sections
of the ship. With a crew of over 1500, the ship was never empty even
deep within the recesses of the enormous FTL jump drives. She found
the walks to be peaceful. She was able to go over her thoughts.
Before her check ride she had had to
make an appearance before the People’s Council. She had been attacked
for using too much resources. Between shipbuilding and crewing fleet
45,000 people were thus removed from the civilian work force.
She still remembered Councilman
Jenkins. He had spoken in his eloquent style. “My dear admiral
while we are grateful for your service and resources we are pouring
into this defense is simply not justified.”
“We have not seen nor heard from
the Cylons in nearly 4 months. Maybe they mean to leave us in peace
now.”
“New political math,” she had said
under her breath, but intentionally audible.
“What was that admiral?” His voice
was annoyed and not respectful.
“It has in fact been 60 days since
the ambush of the Battlestars Acropolis and Athena and the massacre
of their crew. That is mathematically two months, not four months of
quiet from the Cylons. “
“Well since that was on their side of
the armistice line and we were launching an unprovoked attack on
their fleet, it does not count. You started it.” Have you ever
considered the possibility that the Cylons are tired of fighting us
and they don’t want to be at war with us any more?”
“No,” Lawson answered, saying
nothing else.
After 15 seconds of silence followed by
murmuring, he spoke. “Care to elaborate?”
The admiral took a deep breath before
she replied. She prayed for control of her temper. “A little
over a year ago Cylons Attacked our home worlds and slaughtered tens
of billions of people. They know where we are. We are substantially
outnumbered. They can come and destroy our civilization anytime they
want now is not the time to cut military spending. Now is the time to
increase spending. We need to leave these 14 worlds and move off into
the stars and settle a place to Cylons can never find us.”
Jenkins cleared his throat before his
reply. “Or you can tell me that we are to pick up and leave with
496,000 persons. At one point we are shipbuilding program have the
number of shifts required to haul that many people? What about
resources that we need like fuel and food?”
Lawson replied carefully. “Your
last question first. Our enemies have left a large amount of fuel
behind when they left. We have been bringing into the storage
facilities here for six months now. We are working on a solution to
feeding the people on this long journey. If you grant us the increase
in human resources and natural resources we eventually can be ready
to move away from here. I want the Cylon to find nothing here when
they come. Do not doubt councilman that they will come. They waited
40 years before they attacked the colonies. I cannot promise you when
they will return but I do promise you they are building up their
forces in preparing at this time.”
Jenkins made a noise with his mouth it
sounded like clucking. “Admiral Lawson have you located a single
Cylon vessel in the last four months during which she was spent a
large amount of natural resources scouting as far as your ships can
take you?”
“Not yet sir.”
“When will your ship building
program have enough capacity to carry the people?
“If you approve this budget
request and give me 5000 more workers, five years.”
“Add more Lawson you’re going to
have to prove to this council that there is an actual threat from the
enemy before we fund this outlandish request. Is my recommendation
that your increase in funding be denied. Please return to us in 30
days with a plan to cut military spending by 25%.”
“Councilman cuts of that magnitude
would prevent us from completing the repairs on the Athena and the
Acropolis.”
“Well admiral find me some Cylons
and then we will reconsider your funding request. You must provide us
cuts in the budget. I would think that an admiral of your stature
could do a better job than I deciding where to make these cuts.”
The admiral struggle to control her
temper. “The evidence in favor of continued military
preparedness are the still burning and wasted by radiation in the 12
colonies. We need to strike out and get as far away from the enemy as
possible. We must never forget the slaughter of the first Cylon war
or the second.”
A member of the engineering crew walked
in front of the Admiral and saluted. She was shaking from her reverie
and returned the salute.
Then Admiral Lawson stopped in her
tracks. She closed her eyes and rubbed them. She was seeing Admiral
Mueller standing in the hallway in his crisp, perfectly pressed
uniform.
She was seeing hallucinations.
“I’m not a hallucination,” Mueller
said. “Think of me as a piece of his soul, that was so attached to
this ship, it could not move on after he died.”
Lawson resolved not to be seen talking
to herself at 3 a.m. She tried to sidestep him and walk by.
“You’ve done a fine job little one,
stepping up to be Admiral, when we know what you really are?”
“I’m going crazy.”
“I am a piece of Admiral Mueller’s
soul sent to you by an Angel of God.”
“What do you want?” She finally
conceded and spoke with the apparition.
“All of this has happened before. It
will happen again if you don’t listen to me.”
“What do you want me to hear?”
“Don’t explore the Mutara system for
resources, it is too dangerous.”
Lawson chuckled as she continued to
speak with the dead admiral. “There is a mountain of Tylium in
Mutara. I will get it and trade it to the Peoples Council for the
funding we need to provide the defense.”
Admiral Mueller clucked derisively. “Your plan to migrate a half million persons to the stars? How cute, you are going to find a place where the Cylons can’t find you?”
“Something like that.”
“There will be another slaughter. You
will visit Earth and meet Adama. You will take the remnants of these
new Colonies into their end. But only if you don’t get killed.”
“Yea great. We have a six o’clock
jump Admiral. I have confined myself to quarters”
“They never listen to us the first
time,” An image that looked like Gaeus Baltar nodded and gazed into
the distance, expressionless.
* * *
.
Admiral Lawson looked well groomed when
she came into the CIC. Her XO was a former pilot, a 29 year old wide
eyed lieutenant until getting promoted several weeks ago. He looked
athletic, 1.8 meters tall, with blond hair, blue eyes and a curious
expression on his face.
“SitRep,” Lawson ordered as she
stepped into her normal spot in the command center.
The Mutara system has been under
frequent sweeps, Raptors and smaller ships like Adamant and Bezerk
class mostly. Sometimes force recon 3 assault raptors 2 recon birds.
There have been no signs of Cylon presence, no signals.”
“What is your entry plan captain?”
Lawson asked.
“Sir we go too condition two, I think its safe to make the jump if we up our alert status from 5 birds in the tubes to ten Sir. No Cylon signals intelligence..”
The admiral crossed her arms folded them across her chest. “The system with a little mountain of fuel and it appears to be unguarded. Have I not issued a general order about this since the boardings and massacres of the crews of Acropolis and Athena?”
“Ah Sir..” he stuttered.
“Please repeat general order 76 to
all colonial forces,” she looked inpatient that she still
awaiting her answer.
“General order 76 from Admiral Eva
Lawson states that any colonial forces entering a system that is not
under colonial control with permanent forces is to take place under
high alert status. That means that force recon jumps first, 3
assault birds, three recon birds.”
“So you see Captain Bench,” she used his family name. “You don’t need to think you have your orders. Get it set up with double the normal force. Blue squadron in the tubes instead of ten. I have a high level intelligence source that has concern about this system.” She wisely they omitted the fact that her intelligence source was an apparition that appeared to her in the form of Admiral Mueller.
“But Sir we have orders to conserve
fuel.”
“Did I issue any orders to that
effect?”
“No Sir, came in the night watch
communications. To all Colonial forces Peoples Council Executive Cory
Brooks.
“Does she give orders on this ship
Captain?”
Looking flustered, he answered meekly.
“No Sir.”
“Set up the recon,” she ordered. In
her mind, she was disgusted. Her expression only conveyed her desire
to complete the mission.
“We will never let the politicians
compromise our safety.” Lawson breathed deeply. “That is general
order 77 I think. Someone bring me some coffee.”
Captain Bench picked up the phone and
got on the PA. “This is the XO. Set condition two on the ship.
Force recon will be 10 birds, two jump points within the system. Blue
squadron in the tubes.”
It was bad enough that the budget cuts had forced her to jump into the system without backup.
There was no way she was going in, deaf, dumb and blind.
Thirty minutes later the reconnaissance was complete and they had made the jump.
“DRADIS!” The excited officer in
charge shouted before quietly adding the word “clear. DRADIS is
clear sir.”
“All right get the vipers out
there. All raptors launched need to find the fuel bring in the cargo
ships and haul out of here before the Cylon figure out what we’re
doing. Keep a close eye on the DRADIS Lieutenant, “Let all pilots
know to stay frosty and keep their heads on a swivel.”
“Yes Sir,” the young woman who looked to be barely 18 answered.
Lawson stretched her arms and fiddled with her hair. She considered walking to the mess hall for some world famous Mercury madness coffee. She decided against that because everyone else had a job and her job was to keep the crew safe.
Right after the CAG and LSO announced
that all birds were in the air the DRADIS id its three double chirps
and showed three unknown contacts They were too big and too early to
be the ore carriers. Smaller contacts came on the screen a half
second later. The computer was slow in identifying the targets.
Before the ID, Lawson gave orders. “Set
condition one. All vipers to defense positions. Recall those raptor
crews.
The DRADIS operator announced the
computer targeting decision. “Three base stars seven support ships
CBDR. They are launching raiders.”
“How long is it gonna take us to
recover our birds and jump out of here?” Admiral Lawson asked.
“It could take up to 10 minutes
sir.”
Another officer spoke up. “Network
breach. Cylons have compromised our network.”
Captain Bench took charge of this.
“Institute network isolation for all defense subsystems. Gun
crews please report if you are still operating in automatic mode.”
A new protocol has been implemented
physically dividing the Mercury network to make Cylon hacking more
difficult. “Guns report still running in automatic mode. Sensor
information has been received. The hack got to the FTL nav computer
before the network was divided. Estimate 15 minutes till FTL is back
online. We are restoring from prewar back ups.”
“Vipers report in defense
positions ready for action.” Reported the CIC flight officer.
“Weapons free engage all enemy units. Make sure everyone know where the established fire zones are. Everyone else weapons free.” Admiral Lawson ordered.
“Cylon are pulling back. They are out of gun range. Their base ships are out of gun range they are going to attempt a missile salvo on three sides.” Reported the tactical officer .
“Notify vipers of established defense zones. Full automatic fire on the zones in 15 seconds. Get ready to turn the ship hard we’re going to rotate and make it hard for them to hit us. Flak on one side, pcm on the other. All weapons free” said Admiral Lawson.
“Flak is active on the port side”
“Turn it to port until we have a
90° angle on the inbound Cylon probable firing arch. We have vipers
on defensive for all three of the base stars?”
“Yes Sir” The flight officer
confirmed.
“Inbound heavy Raiders they’re
going to attempt a boarding!”
“Fire teams to the flight pods.
Concentrate PDC fire on the inbound heavy raiders.” Lawson ordered.
“That will result in more missile
hits,” the XO warned.
“Beats getting boarded.”
“Prepare to switch flak to the
right side,” ordered Admiral Lawson. We need time is just
perfectly.”
“We are ready sir.”
“Flak ambush now now now,”
Lawson ordered.
“We have a few boarders are contained in the starboard flight pod. Marines are counter attacking.”
“Order the reserve vipers to target
heavy raiders.
“We have inbound missiles. Repeat
inbound missiles coming in from three firing arcs.”
“Order all vipers to engage
defensive positions must be maintained.” Admiral Lawson looked
up for his moments. “Yellow squadron green squadron and black
squadron attack your base stars now now now. Helm hard to port.”
The roar of missiles hitting the outer
armor shook the entire battleship star. Everyone grabbed onto
something as the ship rocked under the impact of the first round of
missiles that made it through the flak. “Missile hit starboard
flight part.” Someone reported in an urgent voice.
“Another inbound coming towards
the starboard flight pod.”
“We need better intercept on these
inbounds,” Lawson warned.
“Damage control teams to the
starboard flight pod,” the XO announced on the PA.
“Three inbound missile salvos,
fore aft and port.”
“Flak has the port side missiles,
switch engagement zone to port. Helm hard to port, lets make this
difficult for them.”
The deck shook under their feet.
“Frontal armor hit. Vipers got most of it.”
“Hit port flight pod vipers only
partially intercepted.” The deck shook again. “That was another
partial intercept impact front. We cant keep taking this kind of
pounding.”
“Vipers do better. Maintain port rotation, At least that will make our armor last longer. FTL status?”
“Still off line Sir.”
“Damage control teams to the port
flight pod,” the XO ordered,voice echoing all over the ship. He cut
off the PA. “There has been some hull damage in the pods.”
She acknowledged the report with a nod.
“Switch flak port, continue
rotation,” Lawson ordered calmly. She had been through this a few
times by now.”
“Keep making those turns helm”
Lawson ordered.
“Another direct hit on the port
flight pod.”
Inside the port flight pod, crews hit
the deck as a shower of firey sparks rained down on the repair area.
Vipers were already coming in with damaged planes.
CIC
“Three more inbound salvos. We are
going to take a hit on the frontal section port side. Vipers were out
of position.”
A deafening roar accompanied the
missile hit.
One of the glass doors to CIC
shattered. Lawson absently wondered if they stocked a lot of that
glass on the ship. She also wondered what would happen if they ran
out.
“Another three salvos inbound.”
“Gun crews target the inbounds!”
Lawson ordered.
Several CIC crew members winced as the
battlestar seemed to be shaking at its core. The sound of the guns
firing echoed through out the ship. Red lights were flashing on the
damage control display.
“Get me an ETA on those FTL drives.
We are losing his fight and may need to recover our birds and run.”
“They have stopped firing,” the
tactical officer reported.
“They are spooling up their FTL!”
“They jumped.”
“Recover our birds. Destroy the
tylium.”
“All vipers RTB RTB. Assault raptors
take out the Tylium reserves. There must be an ammunition dump here.
These base stars came in with pretty low ammunition. We need to be
out of here before the Cylons come back in force.”
As a Major and then a Commander, Eva
Lawson did not like morning meetings. No amount of coffee could get
the fog out of her mind before 9 am.
As an admiral she despised early
morning meetings. This one was in a particularly obnoxious time 5:30
in the morning. All four of her mercury class Battlestar commanders
were present as was the head of the fleet intelligence.
It actually amazed Admiral Lawson that
with billions of people slaughtered, the whole colonies uninhabitable
it was an unlimited supply of large monitors and which display
intelligence and battle footage..
She reasoned that if there was a
sufficient resources to produce for Mercury class battle star of the
month and they’ll probably was sufficient resources to produce enough
large screen monitors to keep her busy all day long.
“OK”, she said as she sipped
her coffee. At least they were civilized enough to order a decent
coffee for this meeting. She had barked at enough people to make sure
that the was always going to be met in the future. “What am I
looking at here?”
The intelligence chief who held the
rank of major have been retired 10 years from the colonial fleet when
the war had broken out. With the morning fog in the rain, Lawson
could not remember the man’s name. She did remember reading a service
record however that he had typed out a major due to a superior
questioning his work ethic and thoroughness at vetting information
sources.
“I remember when we had the same
rank,” he said just audible enough for her to hear. “That
sir is a shipyard with the Cylon’s use to finish assembly of their
base stars. It is capable of finishing 12 base stars a month. Ships
come in as empty shells, and internal configuration occurs at a rapid
pace. There are thousands of Cylon skin jobs working this facility.”
“It looks small to me,” lost
in remarks. “It looks like he can only work on two base stars at
a time.”
“I always said you have a good eye
for intelligence,” the major replied. “This one can
actually finish three at a time. It takes one week to do this job.
Components are coming from several other locations. We are tracking
these for future strikes.”
“How do you know this is the only
final assembly facility they have?” Commander Ramirez asked.
The major smiled. “Due to the raw
data we download from your hack of the Cylon computer networks sir.
We now have taps into the physical net work at 12 different
locations, each is downloading massive amounts of data. Our current
computer capacity is a joke. But by selectively applying the power we
have two different intelligence dump we have read the following
conclusions.”
He adjusted his uniform pants and then
cleared his throat. We have seen was posing for praise. He received
nothing but a get on with it look from Admiral Lawson. “We have
verified the data has matched at every location by decrypting
specific batches in computer systems that are physically isolated.
They do not appear to be two data streams, one to fool us and one
that they keep a secret. We have been able to randomly crack any file
we put our computer resources to.”
“Now with sufficient computer power
we could equipped the entire dump and he might find anomalies. As of
this moment they’ll all data that we have decrypted is consistent. We
also verified the intelligence with human intelligence resources. You
approve the classified raptor mission three days ago. We have eyes on
the site and we rotate our crews out every 12 hours. Everything that
we’ve taken from the computer at work agrees with what our eyes on
the scene and reporting back. This is a base ship finishing
facility.”
“If we destroy it,” Lawson
said. “We can send back their plans. They claim that they have
left the colonies and it may be a resolution to leave us in peace.
What do they need this kind of manufacturing capacity for anyway?”
Before he could answer, Colonel Simmons
who almost never talked at meetings spoke up. “Where is this
shipyard? My task force has visited all twelve colonies the past
month and not seen it.”
“Besides the two ambushes of your
task force,” the major answered. “There has been no
evidence of Cylon incursion into any of the original 12 colonies.
This facility is deep inside what was Cylon territory after the first
Cylon war. I must point out that as tempting as this target is, it
would be a huge escalation. It would likely violate the terms of the
cease fire we are supposedly operating under. It is the intelligence
branches recommendation that we consult the civilian authorities
before going forward.”
Admiral Lawson brushed them off. “They
are building 12 ships that are capable of firing nuclear weapons on
the survivors of our worlds. They are clear and present danger to our
survival of the species. I order a strike mission be drawn up to
attack this facility and destroy it.”
The major replied quickly. “Consulting
with the authorities covers our asses if the strike goes wrong. I
estimate it will take to task forces to destroy this facility. We
have digital photos indicating three modern base stars and three old
Cerebes class carriers protect this facility.”
Ramirez sighed. “Saturn is out of
this fight. FTL nav computer and backup are burned out. As I remember
Mercury’s drive actuators are being replaced now. That means we have
to send the junior team. I recommend we wait until one of the more
experienced officers can lead the strike.”
“It’s not going to work,”
said the major. He picked up a pointing device and zoom the screen
in. The picture clearly showed a sale on FTL Drive. “There are
six of them. It would only take three to be able to jump his facility
so far away we never find it. From what we can tell Cylon FTL
technology enables them to jump 10 to 20 times further than we can.
It would be nice if we capture some of the technology and started to
figure out how to upgrade our technology.”
“How often does it move?” Lawson
asked.
“We have been monitoring the site
for 30 days. We visited the site 60 days ago and 90 days ago. The
digital images showed no activity until ten days ago. Based on the
logistics data we decrypted from the Cylons, we estimate that this
facility moves over two weeks. It appeared on our electronic sweeps
11 days ago. We have 3 days to act.”
Colonel Simmons was eager. He stood up
and addressed his superiors. “I know you have trouble getting me
promoted to commander. I have drawn up a strike plan. As you know the
two ambushes that occurred in the colonies were taking care of my
forces that I’ve been on my command for two months. My crews
acquitted themselves quite well in those two battles. I have been
training the hell out of these people. They are ready to step up and
do this job. Please let me command the strike. I don’t care about the
promotion. I care about damaging the Cylons so they can never hurt us
again.”
“This is a very important
operation,” and more Admiral Lawson said. “I see here that
the commander of the Acropolis has a pregnant wife who is about to
give birth. I’m sure he’s eager to participate in the strike but how
about I take the conn out of that ship. You will still command the
mission. I will just be available in case of surprise. Our ace in the
hole.”
“You are asking me or ordering me?”
Simmons asked.
“Asking,” Lawson said. “I think a
wise battlestar commandeer would want the extra experience
available.”
“I agree,” Simmons smiled.
“When do we junp off?” Lawson
asked.
“Six hours. The tankers need to be
placed to refuel us before he last jump. A safe jump plan will
require 18 jumps. We should top off our tanks before the fight.”
You have planned well Colonel. Pull
this off and I will frak Corey Brooks if thats what it takes to give
you your commanders stars.”
*
* *
Admiral Lawson
settle down into guest quarters, refusing the offer of the grateful
Colonel to use his quarters. She brought an overnight bag and two
changes of cloths for the mission. With the precaution of sending
raptor force recon ahead to check each jump point, it would take 18
hours to reach the target facility. Lawson curled up with a book and
hoped to sleep the whole way. The problem was that FTL jumps while
sleeping gave her vivid dreams.
Several times
she flashed back to when she was held captive by the Cylons. They had
somehow left the biological equivalent of a logic bomb in her brain.
She could feel the sensations she had felt while they were assaulting
her. It felt real and as ifi t was happening in the present.
She awoke with
a start and opened her eyes. The guest suite had a bathroom and a
medicine cabinet. She stared bleary eyed into the mirror and examined
the choice of pills. A sleep aide was far less effective than natural
sleep.
Reporting to
the CIC having and no sleep in three days was not an option. Sleep
deprivation had the same impact on command performance as alcohol.
She read the instructions on the bottle and swallowed two pills with
water.
In 15 minutes,
she had settled herself int a dreamless sleep that she hoped might
help with her symptoms. This time the FTL jumps did not trigger
dreams. She woke up an hour before the strike mission. This gave her
time to take a long, hot shower, then brushed and combed her air
before putting into a tight, military bun.
The admiral
noticed that she had felt a bit sluggish when she got out of bed. If
you like that go away as it usually did when she prepared for duty.
Perhaps the sleeping medication had more affect on her than she
expected. She was no stranger to this type of medication. Often
pilots how to use it to get sleep between long viper patrols.
Whenever she
walked into the CIC of a ship she wanted to project of confidence.
She wanted to be there to be a spring in her step. As she walked
through the hallways of the Battlestar, she spent felt more and more
sluggish.
They were about
to do a combat jump into battle. She should be hyped up on adrenaline
not feeling like she wanted to get back into bed. As she continued
towards the CIC, she stopped and grabbed a cup of coffee off one of
the trolleys used to serve crew that due to skill shortages often had
to work long shifts. She gulped it down like a runner swallowing cold
water, hoping to revive her physical state.
The marine
guarding the combat information Center immediately recognized her and
ran his access card which open the doors. Nobody who served aboard
these ships thought the glass doors were practical. The ships stocked
many spare doors to replace those shattered in combat.
The exile of
the ship was a major Linda Peters. She was 36 years old, had left
the colonial fleet three years before the war to have a baby. She and
the child had survived the destruction of the colonies because they
were on a on a trip to Tauron.
Miraculously
the child’s father had also survived these events and was a civilian
computer analyst. The child was with him in the refugee camp on a
desolate new colony. He had been offered a military commission due to
his skills involving protection of hacking and hacking into the enemy
network.
He had turn
down the offer to remain in civilian contractor doing the same job.
Although there is no actual payment involved the government continue
to give them IOUs for the day that might come or currency start to be
used again. This time everybody that worked in a civilian job in the
colonies basically did it for food and shelter.
Major Peters
was about a centimeter or two taller than the admiral. She has
platinum blond hair and many male officers found her attractive.
After they worked with her for a while they found her to be
intimidating. She has a reputation as being one of the meanest XO’s
in the fleet. She could smile and tear you apart with words.
“Welcome
to CIC admiral,” she said. “We will be in operational
command of the ship?”
Admiral Lawson
nodded her head and said no. “This is your chance to show me
your command skills. I’m gonna sit here quietly, watch the strategic
situation and only jump in if necessary.” She then stretched her
arms in a long yawn. “Frak, I took a pill to get some sleep and it
wont let me wake up.
Peters
stretched out her hand and offered a white pill, a stimulant. “I
know its not great, but we need you sharp Sir.” a quick gesture had
a cup of water in the Admirals hand.
Lawson stared
at it for several seconds and then popped it in her mouth and washed
it down with water. “I hope this helps. SITREP.”
“All
vipers are in the tubes. We are ready for combat jump and immediate
launch. Flagship is signaling to jump”
Lawson nodded.
Peters ordered the jump.
The jump had an
unusual affect on the admiral. She felt a wave of nausea and barely
avoided throwing up in the CIC.”
“DRADIS Seven
ships in extreme range there unidentified at this time. Based on size
they were probably three modern base stars and four smaller fighter
carriers as expected. We do not have fighters on the screen yet from
the enemy.“
“That
will change,” the major said. “Launch all vipers. Form up
according to the battle plan.”
Several tense
seconds passed. The DRADIS beeped as small contacts started to
launch.
“DRADIS, Two
groups of fighters are forming again the ranges extreme we can’t get
ID from here. The lower group appears to be modern raiders. Three
ships just did a tactical jump towards the shipyard. There’s a large
group of fighters protecting them. The lower group has formed up and
is charging toward our fire formation.”
A
Communications officer spoke up. “The flag ship is ordering all
the wipers to attack the lower group of fighters. Valkyries are
ordered to speed up an approach to get a lock on the vessels that are
approaching the shipyard from above.”
The formation
had started out tight. There were four large ships in a stack
formation. A Mercury class on top. Between them was the solaria
Jupiter class. below that was the second mercury and on the bottom an
Atlas class carrier. These ships were nicknamed the brick. In this
formation, besides adding air power, they offered the ships above
them a lot of protection from fire below.
Now the
Valkyries were speeding up ahead to try and get a sensor lock and
find out what the opposition was flying.
“The enemy
Raiders are retreating. They are running. The flag ship is ordering
us to pursue.”
Major Peters
was concerned. “Signal to flagship. We don’t want our vipers to
get too far away from us. If they want to run we might want to let
them run.”
“The
flagship overrules they have ordered our fibers to pursue and destroy
the enemy Raiders and then attack their base ships.”
Lawson knew
there was a problem. This tactic been used against her before. While
conducting a strike mission before the reunification with the new
colonies they have tried to draw the fighters from the mercury out
feeding an attack and then running.
Remind was
getting foggy again. Her mind was getting foggy again. The stimulant
pill was not working. She was confused when she remembered what this
meant. The early days after the fall. The Raiders made a feint toward
attacking and then run away, trying to draw away the Mercurys fighter
cover. Then they attacked from above with. What? She couldn’t
remember. Heavy. Heavy Raiders. Attempted boarding.
Lawson tried to
speak. She meant to verbalize what she just thought. Words did not
come out. Her voice croaked out sound but no words. She fell to the
floor of CIC. Someone called for a doctor. Peters leaned down and put
her ear next to Lawsons mouth.
“Fighters.
Call back. Boarding. From above. Heavy Raiders…” Her voice was
barely audible.
Peters got the
gist. “Orders to our CAG. RTB RTB. I don’t care what the flag
ship says recall all our planes. We are about to be boarded we must
shoot down the heavy Raiders. Marines to condition one. Move toward
the flight paths and prepare to attack the centurions.”
The
communications officer reported. “The flagship has been boarded.
Athena has been boarded. All flight pods. Our fighters did not get
here in time. Every single heavy raider got here untouched.”
Major Peters
jumped into action. “Have the air wing and the Solaria and the
Atlas charge the enemy formation. The heavy raiders came from those
smaller carriers. They are directing the attack from those ships. If
we take them out the Centurions will lose command guidance.”
“All airlocks
breached. Our line of defense is crumbling. We are losing subsystems.
Lawson was
conscious but immobile on the floor of CIC. She could think. The
Cylons had obviously poisoned her with the medication. She had seen
this tactic and had defeated it early in the second war. When the
enemy found out she was going on the mission, they had made an
attempt to neutralize her.
Everyone who
graduated the academy knew about Cylon boarding tactics. They would
go to auxiliary damage control and open the airlocks and vent the
ships. The absolute best marines and weapons were placed there.
Lawson heard the reports as they came in competing with screams. The
centurions made only a passive attempt to hit auxiliary damage
control.
They did not
intend to destroy the ship. They wanted to wipe out the crew and
damage the ship so badly that it would be out of action for months.
This was a disaster in the making. There were explosions and screams
echoing through the ship.
Admiral Lawson
could not move. Even if she could move, she would not be able to do
anything. She could see the FTL was offline.
The room spun
and she lost consciousness. When she came to She could see the status
board. All the ships subsystems were damaged. It was a brilliant
assault. Rather than destroy the two vessels they Cylons would create
enough damage that would force the Colonials to decide between making
more Valkyries or fixing the two powerful battlestars.
The resource
drain would be enormous. Lawson imagined the hearings and the
meetings and how much the political cost would be. The crew
complement of the chefs was normal in 2800. They cut a lot of corners
to get these ships into battle 1500 people on her crew before this
mission.
The centurions
were on the bridge. First they shut out the glass of the doors that
protected the CIC. Then they raked the crew of the CIC with random
gun fire.
Lawson saw the
body of major peters hit the floor she felt wounded near where she
was lying. Hey centurion looked down in her eyes and saw that she was
alive. For a brief moment and pointed his weapon at her head. It’s
scanned her face with it moving red eye.
The admiral was
curious as to why it left her alive. She felt the effects of the
poison start to wear off. She was able to move her arms and then
force yourself into a sitting position. If you minutes later she
dragged herself to her feet, grabbed a headset and jumped on the
wireless.
A lot of the
equipment was not working having been shot with centurion bullets. It
took her several minutes to get the wireless working. She moved to
the control of the ships maneuvering thrusters an tried to adjust
course, avoiding a collision with the shipyard. It was not like
flying in viper. Most of the controls were unresponsive. She tugged
away at the thrusters until she get turn the ship a few degrees to
the right to avoid an immediate collision.
Moving and
Communications, she played around with radio frequencies, finally
getting the battle channel on her wireless headset.
“This is
Acropolis actually, scratch that this is the admiral. The air wing is
to continue the attack until all Cylon forces are eliminated. Protect
the two ships that are on the offensive. We need to get a raptor
back to Communications hub. We must report this battle to command.
We’re going to require reinforcements to recover these two ships. We
are likely going to need a lot of equipment to save these vessels.”
The orders were
acknowledged. The raptor pilot made it close pass the Athena.
The digital
footage showed combat happening inside the ship visible through some
of the larger windows. Evidence of death and destruction was easy to
spot on the 30 seconds of video that the raptor collected.
“This is
the CAG of the Athena, we have heavy Raiders are leading decks. The
enemy forces have been destroyed we need a plan for landing these
birds we are almost bingo fuel.”
Admiral
Lawson’s voice was husky is if she had been shouting. She click the
microphone on her wireless headset. “Pack them in as tight you
can on the Solaria and the Atlas. Then put up a CAP to defend this
location until reinforcements arrive.”
“Sir this
is Solaria actual. This position is deep inside Cylon space. If we
bring heavy forces here to protect us during the recovery phase we
risk attack on the new colonies. The force big enough to intimidate
the Cylons would drain our defenses.”
“Engineering
was going to need to send crews to do damage surveys. We are going to
need several hundred marines co clear these ships of centurions. This
ships FTL drive is lightly damaged. The NAV computers were destroyed.
This was done to send us a message. We are going to have to recover
the damaged ships quickly.”
“This is
marine task force two. We have landed on the Athena. We have
destroyed the heavy raiders and are now moving into the ship. We are
encountering heavy resistance.”
Lawson pressed
a few buttons and got on the PA. “This is the admiral. All crew
members are directed to shelter in place. If you have weapons, arm
yourselves. We are going to retake the ship.”
*
* *
A week later,
Admiral Lawson was going through a pile of communications. There were
a dozen urgent messages ordering her to abandon the two battlestars
and return to fleet command. It had taken three days to clear out the
centurions. The supplies arrived to make emergency repairs on the FTL
drives.
Corey Brooks
had blocked shipment of FTL parts from the Mercury, for fear that she
was being made inoperable by removing key parts. This was not true.
Reserve supplies were drained and sent to the two damaged ships.
The crew of the
battlestars had been roughly 1500 each ship. The air wings were under
strength and totaled 800 pilots. Losses in the ambush had been low.
Of the 2,214 crew that were not pilots, there was a total of about
200 persons to manage the two ships.
Lawson doggedly
refused to read communications from Corey Brooks. If she never read
the orders, how could she be accused of violating these orders?
When Corey
Brooks met the admiral in her shipyard office ten days later, she
asked how this had happened.
“It’s my
responsibility,” said the admiral. We took a high risk gamble.
We tried to take out a high-priority target. We were the sucker. It
was a well planned ambush. We rolled the hard six and we lost.”
She handed the folder to the leader of the People’s Council.
Brooks opened
the folder and read the letter. “This is your resignation?”
“I’m
recommending I be replaced with Commander Ramirez. She is young and
disciplined. She will make a fine replacement for me.”
“She’s a
31 year old computer analyst forced to a command role. She just
learned how to fly a viper. Lose one battle and you start talking
about quitting. I may have had some pre-judgments about you but
you’ve acquitted yourself well. Stand up and get ready to bounce back
from this battle. You have two decades of experience.”
“We’re
going to need funding to rebuild these ships.”
“You’ll
get everything you asked for,” Brooks reply. “If we plan
for six month rebuild, we can spread the cost into budget years.”
Lawson
answered. “I thought you want to big budget cuts.”
“Of course
I do, I’m a politician,” she answered. “But right now we are
at war. These two warships are going to be rebuilt.”
It was a dull
thought I heard outside the door of Admiral Lawson’s office. It
sounded like a body hitting the ground hard. The door opened and a
model number one Cavill walk through the doorway.
With a quick
reflexes Lawson reached her hand into a desk drawer and pulled out a
military issue pistol. She pointed at the Cylon’s head.
“I come
with a message,” he raised his hands as he spoke. “You have
violated the cease fire. We are not amused with this course of
action. I’m here to send you a warning. Follow the cease fire
correctly or we will bring down fire and destruction on your newly
re-established colonies.”
Corey Brooks
stood up and face the man. “You have violated the cease-fire
constantly. We have evidence of your forces scouting location of our
new refugee colonies. You continue to build warships and you abuse
them against us. Cease-fire must go both ways.”
The model one
spoke. “If you limit the size of your military to 100 ships and
the colonies are neutral territories. You will need to stay out of
them completely if you want to cease-fire to continue.”
“Offer
rejected. We will except no limits on the side of our fleet. It is
obvious that you have thousands of ships and sent them across the
galaxy in search of the Galactica.
We will also need to continue
visiting the colonies. As you are I’m sure where we are drawing down
industrial supplies. We need those for the rebuilding of our
civilization. This is not just for military use.”
“All right
you may send unarmed ships into the original colonies and they will
not be attacked. Will you require anything else?” He sneered.
“We
require that you stop building new warships,” Admiral Lawson added.
“Rejected,”
he answered we need to explore the galaxy and find earth. That
requires a lot of ships. The offer is as it stands. You keep your
warships out of the colonies and your supply missions will be left in
peace. Do you have 10 seconds to except the offer.”
“We accept
your offer and the cease-fire is in place immediately.”
“Kill
him,” Brooks ordered.
Admiral Lawson
fired two shots directly into his forehead. He had a brief look of
surprise before he fell dead to the floor.
“When he
resurrects our message movies will be received by the Cylon.”
“Oh I know
why you ordered it Leader Brooks. It is just a hell of a way to
conduct diplomatic negotiations.” She laid the smoking pistol on
the desk, sat down and sipped her coffee as if nothing had happened.
Admiral Lawson was in a temporary
office in the fleet HQ. Normally she kept her office hours on the
Battlestar mercury. However for the past week and a half to ship a
been in for repairs and she was forced to use this small office.
The office had a window in through that
window she could see her command, the Battlestar. There were some
derricks and construction on the flight pods other parts of the
ships. The exterior armor was being replaced, along with months of
battle damage.
The war with the Cylons had gone cold.
The enemy has not made an appearance in 31 days. Apparently the
promise made by the model number one was going to be kept. The Cylons
had left the Colonies and gone off to pursue a new destiny.
After her capture, Admiral Lawson did not believe that the machines that destroyed humanity would ever give up and destroy what little was left of them. She knew in her heart that they had heart and whatever they called their souls. They were constructed by hateful machines it would not give up until their mission was accomplished.
The armistice line set between the
government of Cory Brooks and the enemy excluded the 12 colonies from
the new colonial territory. This line extended right up to the old
colonies.
The new colonial fleet often violated
this line in order to forage for supplies. In the 31 days in the past
since the last and a base is mission, no life survivors in about any
of the 12 colonies. There were however store houses of industrial
equipment and parts that were necessary to keep the fleet going.
Every week the civilian in charge of
the economy presented Admiral Lawson with a list of what he wanted.
Each week list was more extensive, and
more dangerous to obtain. Every week however the admiral ordered at
the list be obtained.
Scientists occasionally asked to go on
the mission to take readings. They’ve also percent of the military
with reports. These reports or pessimistic. Radiation levels were so
high that in some number of years all life would be extinct and
everyone of the 12 colonies.
To be perfectly honest with herself, Admiral Lawson to authorize the missions for political reasons. With the threat from the enemy seeming to have a fallen, the military needed to justify itself, to remain relevant.
First priority was always given to the
militaries list of requirements. By fulfilling the requirements of
the civilian economy, pressure to make cuts in the size of the
military were kept at bay.
Admiral Lawson had nearly 25,000 souls
under her command. They were four main fleets, each led by a mercury
class Battlestar. It was expensive, and represented nearly 10% of the
entire remaining number of humanity.
They were nearly 495,000 humans left
live in the new colonies. Conditions were harsh and the economy was
difficult. Civilians were already calling on people to be released
from the military to do jobs that were more economically relevant.
With 25,000 people in the military and
20,000 involved in vital support shop such as shipbuilding and
manufacturing of ammunition, the situation was probably
unsustainable.
They were 18 different outposts forming a new colonies. Some of them barely habitable by humans. Life was difficult, and the planets that they were inhabiting would never be as easy to live on as Caprica.
The overall goal of the shipping
program was not just to build military vessels, it was also the
building of transport to take nearly half 1 million colonists off on
a space adventure to find a new home.
Admiral Lawson had advocated picking up
the entire number of humanity and heading into the stars. Her premise
was to go as far away from the cylon as possible.
It was known that that with 50,000
people, President Laura Roslyn and Admiral Adama had done this.
The hack that was used to eavesdrop on cylon communications brought back a very important piece of intelligence. The enemy had not found the other colonial fleet led by Galactica.
There was a special mission on the
way. Based hours were being sent in all directions, searching for the
escape to fleet. Massive amounts of fuel and ammunition will be
expected to sand forces in all directions.
It was because of this that admiral Eva
Lawson had wanted to go off in a different direction. The only way
she believed that humanity would be safer to be far far away from the
machines they had created. Distance was the only hope of survival in
her opinion.
The galaxy was a big place, and it should be possible to find a place that was more hospitable and difficult to find. The newly reconstituted news media had openly mocked her testimony in front of the peoples council.
The admirals response I’ve been
caustic, even toxic. She did not back down in the civilian government
promised to consider our request.
Commander Maria Ramirez was due for an appointment in a few minutes. Finding manners where she thought they were none, Admiral Lawson ordered a tray of coffee and refreshments be delivered for the meeting.
Coffee was her fuel, for Lawson was not
able to sleep well. Her dreams were plagued with images from her
captivity. She had initiated, or rather tried to initiate relations
with a number of civilians and failed to complete a goal so simple.
Before the war, it had been a hobby. It was something she had done for fun. Now she was so messed up that she could not do it at all. The door chimed. She admitted Commander Ramirez, sho quickly grabbed a doughnut and poured herself a cup of coffee. She put a storage device on the desk.
“Colonel Simmons completed the
mission to Caprica. He was ambushed by large fleet.”
Colonel Simmons have been appointed to
be the commander of the captured Battlestar Athena. His promotion to
Commander I’ve been held up by the peoples counsel. They were
concerned about costs.
“He wasn’t killed was he?”
Asked Lawson.
“Oh no they got through it OK.
They were casualties I think they lost a adamant class ship. They
were victorious but they did take a hell of a beating. They jumped to
Scorpia to grab some supplies and do some emergency repairs. We have
a few cargo containers hidden in the shipyard ruins. It enables us to
make quick repairs for these kind of circumstances.”
“I did not see that on your last report Commander Ramirez,” Lawson spoken a false accusing tone. She smiled warmly.
“It’ll be on the monthly report,”
promised Ramirez. “You got some great footage do you want to see
the battle Admiral?”
“Of course I do. Lets watch it in the
simulator theatre.
This room was a large movie theater
with a massive video screen. It had been built into the shipyards
along with simulators similar to those found other mercury class
battle stars. It was an enjoyable way to watch the war for footage.
Whenever possible all battles were
recorded so the winner lose the military could learn from them.
“That was one impressive
performance,” Lawson said. “Simmons is really picking up on big
ship tactics. You know I had my doubts.”
“It’s not like we have our halls
filled with graduates of the war college,” Ramirez sipped a glass
of water. “I graduated but for me it was an exercise in getting a
good grade. I did not internalize much.”
“I graduated eighteen years ago. I
was never sent to Battlestar University due to my extra-curricular
activities.”
“Well, we are going to need a new war
college and a new Battlestar-U,” the commander sighed.
“We are barely getting funding for
fleet operations. We still foraging in the twelve colonies for
ammunition. Some of what we are using has been in storage for fifty
years.”
“I get it.”
Getting enough ships together to take
half a million war refugees is a pipe dream. Councilman Fredrick has
proposed cutting the military shipbuilding budge by 25%”
“That is ridiculous Admiral.”
“We need to pick up and move across
the galaxy before the cylons come back. I know they are coming. They
will not be satisfied until humanity is extinct.”
“Preaching to the quire Admiral. I
need your authorization to send reinforcements to the fleet.” She
slid the paper across the desk. Lawson read it and then signed it.
“We will bring them home and make
permanent repairs Admiral. I would like to propose some long range
recon to try and locate the cylon staging areas. I think we should be
prepared to go on the offensive. They have a manufacturing advantage
over us. It is about time we took that away.
“Well the attempt to dry up their
tylium resources pretty much failed. Shipyard capacity is much more
complex and difficult to build.”
“First we take away the capacity to
build ships. Then we take away the ships. It’s ambitious Admiral, but
we have to think outside of the box to win this war. We are never
going to build enough ships to defeat their fleet The New Colonies
simply lack the numbers for that.”
“Do you have a plan commander?”
Lawson asked.
“I have a draft in my quarters. I
will bring it by tomorrow.”
“Copy that,” Lawson poured herself
another cup of coffee. She was certain that 5% of her blood volume
was coffee.
* * *
It was the middle of the night when the
annoying phone ring finally got Admiral Lawson to roll over in bed
and answer.
“This is fleet operations,” the
voice said. “You are needed in the situation room.”
She yawned loudly. “What the frak is
the situation room.
“We will send marines to your
quarters and escort you. They will arrive in five minutes.”
Click
“And if I need ten minutes will they
take me to the situation room naked,” she growled.
Since it took her more than ten minutes
to even find anything in this suite, she elected to put on a
“Battlestar Atlantia” robe that she had found in the closet.
“Task force Athena is late reporting
in Sir,” the deck officer reported. “We believe there may have
been an ambush.”
“Lets see the intelligence data,”
Lawson said calmly. Commander Maria Ramirez appeared several minutes
later. Of course she was dressed in her blue uniform that looked
freshly pressed,
A large, partially digitalized image appeared on the screen. It appeared to show the flight pod of the Battlestar Athena under missile attack.
“Is it authentic?” Admiral Lawson
asked.
“The computer is not certain. I have
my old digital team from the Mercury checking it out,” Commander
Ramirez answered.
“Set Condition one in the shipyard. Patrol Valkyries launch ALL squadrons. Unknown DRADIS contract carom 182 CBDR” Bellowed a youngish sounding man.
“Alert Vipers are on intercept
course, three minutes. Its pretty far out there.”
“DRADIS!” More contacts, its a
whole cylon fleet!”
“All ships prepare to attack,”
Admiral Lawson ordered. “Spool up the shipyards FTL. How fast can
we spin up the Mercury and get the hell out of here?”
The nod from Ramirez told her I could
take hours and by then the Battlestar might be lost.
“Defense perimeter station Baker has a missile lock. They have a salvo of 300 missiles ready to fire.”
“Verify Identity and then fire,”
Lawson ordered, wondering if the first part was even possible.
“We are ready to fire,” DP-Baker
replied.
“Weapons hold!” Ramirez ordered.
Lawson was ready to object to the protocol violation before she
remembered just how much she trusted her former XO. An instant later,
Ramirez hit a button putting what she had on headset on the PA
speakers.
“This is Athena actual,” Colonel Simmons familiar voice came on the speaker. “We suffered damage to our communications array. We have successfully fought off a cylon ambush. Please do not fire we are Friendly’s. Standby for recognition codes and authentication.”
Admiral Lawson let’s go a sigh of relief. “We damn near shot around forces out of the sky. I hope the mission records aren as entertaining as the first battle.”
Two hours later the Commander, the
Admiral, and Colonel Simmons we’re all in the theater watching the
amazing news footage of the battle that I just been fought.
“I would have to say,” Colonel Simmons reported. “The enemy seem to know our every move. It was as if you were on their screen and they knew precisely where we were. I think we should come through this ship and see if we’ve missed any cylon electronics or computer code.”
“Agreed,” Lawson said. She leaned
back in her seat and sipped coffee.
“I hate these new digital logs,”
Lawson said. “I have to have my hair done just to record the
musings of my fraked up mind for the sake of history. Anyway, we are
at Picon, assembling a refugee fleet with the best firepower we can
bring to bear. No cylon activity yet, but count on them to make it
hard on us.”
Day 2 Day 342 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“The fist jump was easy. Cylons just
sniffed around to get a DRADIS picture of our fleet. They will throw
fast small ships at us because we can’t be nible escorting these
civilian ships.”
Day 3 Day 343 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“Light contact during jump 2. Ammunition use is high. Our forces were on station with quick repair workshops. Fleet is operating comfortable. Every jump there are more toasters.
Day 4 Day 344 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“Lost two pilots today. Jump 3 cost
us thumper an cueball, two very experienced pilots.”
Sick bay: Doctor Farragut writes in her
diary. “Casualties came in after this jump. There are not enough
doctors to staff every ship in this fleet. They come in after the
jump. Burns and shrapnel wounds from armor and hull breaches. The
pilots are getting shot up as well. It’s meatball surgery as we have
so many wounded, all we can do is triage and keep as many people
alive as possible. We are adding wards for the long term wounded. We
will not be able to get some people treatment by civilian doctors.
The plastic surgeons are going to be busy.
Day 5 Day 345 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“Jump 5 coming up. Jump 4 cost us
three nuggets and two from the deck gang. A viper in the repair bay
was not secured properly and fell, badly wounding our deck chief.
Needless lost. I don’t blame them, those crews are overworked. I went
down and did a two hour shift, striping a landing skid damaged in
a combat landing.”
Sick bay: Doctor Farragut writes in her
diary.
“Doctor Jameson is a petty dictator
that remembers everything and he has no problem using his rank to
abuse his authority. That is balanced against his skill as a trauma
surgeon. He can look at a wounded crew member, take a quick look at
vital signs and immediately determine whether the wounded person can
survive or not. I’m a psychiatrist, trained in PTSD, but am also a
medical doctor and when I check Jameson’s work it never seems to be
wrong.”
Day 6 Day 346 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“The entire CIC crew took time
helping out the deck gang. Others were turned away because there was
not enough space. Damaged bird could dropped from 67 to 21. How many
will we damage in jump 6?”
Day 7 Day 347 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“Cylons sent in three waves of ships.
For some reason we did not get bracketed. Heavy damage to the air
wing and the civilian transports. Trying a new formation using the
three big battlestars to put up a massive flak wall. Worked well.”
Sick bay: Doctor Farragut writes in her
diary. “Hundred and ninety casualties came in after Jump seven. Ten
of them came in DOA. The rest, we managed to save, stabilize and
transfer out patients to a medical ship with long range jump
capability. Jameson is a dedicated doctor. He threatened to castrate
the civilian medical personnel if any patients died on the way back
to a civilian hospital. He is a bastard, but he fights like a lion
for his patients. That mitigates a lot.”
Day 8 Day 348 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“Lost 12 pilots today, another dozen
wounded. Repair backlog up to 90 Vipers. Some pilots will sit out
jump 8 due to lack of hardware. Port pod deck chief begged me no more
volunteer knuckle draggers. Quality assurance was dropping and she is
afraid a pilot might get killed. I told her check the records and
weed out the sloppy mechanics. Like she has time for that. My
nickname was changed from Admiral slut to Admiral asshole. Earned
that.”
Sick bay: Doctor Farragut writes in her
diary.
“Doctor Jameson is always rushing me.
Always trying to make me work faster. The wounded come in fast and
furious. I know I have to work faster. I find myself fantasizing
about murdering him, slowly.”
Day 9 Day 349 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“Air wing did a great job taking out
the forward Cylon formation. Casualties were pretty low for anti-ship
operations against heavy gunships.”
Day 10 Day 350 after the fall.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“We got clobbered on jump 9. Fortunately the pop up repair ships met us after jump 9. All warships repaired. Ammunition was not replenished.
Admiral Lawson vlog.
“Post mission. We lost an Artemis on
jump 10. First run to get over ten thousand souls out alive. Dropped
the civilian loss rate from 34% to 29%. Yay team. I am going to sleep
for ten days. I wish. Pilot losses were heavy, nearly 20% of our
forces. This is going to have a major impact on the entire fleet.
Sick bay: Doctor Farragut writes in her
diary.
“Over the course of this ten jump
Anabasis run, we treated two thousand wounded. A number of civilian
ships were destroyed. We saved over 10,00 souls, many of which were
suffering from radiation poisoning. We lost nearly 5,000. Time for
some sleep.”
Comments Off on Chapter 62: The last Anabasis run.
Posted onSeptember 9, 2021byadmin|Comments Off on Chapter 61: Hell or Anabasis mission 2. 10 more jumps.
Chapter 61
They got ten days “off” between
missions. Admiral Lawson led a huge fleet to make the next run to the
old colonies as they were now often referred to as.
It took seven days for Rose Carey’s
team to get through the viper and raptor repair backlog.
Then there were three days of off shore
leave. The shipyard was too vulnerable if they were let off their
posts. So while amor was replaced and upgraded on the outside of the
ships, the exhausted pilots and deck crews and many others slept in
for up to 14 hours a day.
An amusement park of sorts was set up
in the port hangar bay of the Saturn. The starboard bay featured a
bar and music.
After putting in a few shifts helping
with the repair backlog, the pilots felt less guilty about taking
time off and started to filter into the amusement setup, for the
young and innocent. For most suffering PTSD it was the temporary bar
set up on the starboard hanger deck.
There was a pretty good selection of
drink mixes. Cruiser, drowning the memory of two dead nugget trainees
suddenly thought of Rose Carey and remembered she liked tropical
drinks. So he found a pineapple coconut mix had the bartender add in
some Tauron rum and unsteadily walked to where the knuckle draggers
were still working on the viper backlog.
Carey was ready to tear into him but
remembered how fragile he was for that second nugget, took the drink,
put it on a maintenance trolly and whispered into his ear. “Bring
enough for my entire crew and I will give them two hours off.” She
gestured at the trolly.
Fifteen minutes later he and some
actually sober pilots were back with a trolly full of drinks and
snacks for Carey’s team.
“Two hours down time!” Carey
announced. “One drink per customer then its all virgin drinks.”
She noted in her logs that the hour before the break they completed
repairs on two Mk.7 vipers. The two hours after the break they
averaged almost 4 vipers per hour. She smiled thinking she should
write a management book.
* * *
Lieutenant Tamar Miller sat across the
table from Bruce Jenkins. Miller aged 28 had just been promoted to
squadron commander, Jenkins aged 24 had just made Lieutenant was the
assistant squadron commander of the same squadron.
The pair had served together on the
Mercury and later the Saturn in different squadrons. They had dated
for a little over three months. Two weeks ago, Miller’s promotion had
brought that relationship to a grinding halt.
“There are other assistant squadron
commander slots in the fleet,” Miller said calmly, willing herself
not to fidget.
“I like the squadron I’m in,” he
replied. “Watching your six,” he smirked looking over the edge of
the table. “Is definitely a choice assignment.”
“Regulations are clear. There are no
relationships allowed within the same command,” she said. “As
much as I will miss it, we are on hold.”
“If we stay discreet, I don’t see the
issue. Things have changed. Our home worlds are irradiated and many
billions are dead.”
“You know how personal relationships
were used against Admiral Lawson,” Miller pointed out.
“So what? They still made her an
Admiral.”
“You know she was slut shamed and
investigated.”
“Investigated for sleeping with a
toaster,” he interrupted. “Are you a toaster? I’m not.”
“Everything we do including whether
we decide to frak reflects on her as she is Commander in Chief of the
entire fleet. The regulation is in force. I will follow it.”
Jenkins put his drink on the table,
making a loud noise.
“Thank you for your time,” Squadron
commander, he said angrily.
Sausage, the CAG of the Saturn, James
Redding and recently promoted to captain approached Lieutenant
Miller. “That was hard,” he said.
“Frak off … Sir.” she briefly
considered throwing a drink in his face. “I know that following the
regulations that it protects the Admiral. You can stay the frak away
from me until we start the operation.”
Day 331 jump 1. Total jumps for
Anabasis 11.
Rose Carey in her diary: Jump one is
behind us. No pilots lost, six vipers damaged.
Day 332 jump 2.
Vlog of James “Sausage” Redding.
“Jump two was like a training
exercise. The toasters know what we are doing and each jump they
throw more forces at us. Two minutes of combat. Several missiles did
make it through. No pilots lost, very little damage to the birds.
Combat landings broke a couple of landing struts. The chief keeps
complaining about needless combat landings. Soon they wont be
needless.”
Day 333 since the fall. Jump 3.
“This is black hair, we just let
through three missiles. That is too many. Get back to your patrol
locations. Engage raiders only on my command squadron. They are
feinting, making false runs to pull us out of position.”
“Sausage to black hair, engage that
Cerastes!”
“Aye! Blue squadron engage!”
“Fleet is taking fire!” Ramirez
barked on the channel wanting better performance.
Rose Carey in her diary. “Fifteen
birds damaged. Lost two pilots. Frakking toasters.”
Day 334 since the fall, Jump 4 14 total
outbound Anabasis jumps.
“This is Cruiser, lead ship is
putting fire on Athena. Do we engage?”
“Three enemy ships just jumped in on
the fleets six, do we engage?” Miller asked.
“Negative,” Ramirez ordered. “RTB
fast we are spooling up. PCM will take care of it. Combat landings
are authorized.”
Rose Carey to her diary “21 bent
birds between the four assigned squadrons. Lost a raptor and two
vipers. 4 more dead pilots. This is peace? We should nuke the Cylon
home world.”
Day 335 since the fall Jump 5 total of
15 outbound Anabasis jumps.
“Sausage to Black Hair, missile just
got through and hit an Artemis. Another one reports being hacked. Oh
frak fireball on my wing. Tornado where the hell are you?”
“That was Tornado,” Bruce Jenkins
reported.
“Frak!”
Rose Carey fell asleep her head in her
diary, having written nothing.
Day 336 since the fall Jump 6 total of
16 outbound Anabasis jumps.
“All ships engage lead Nemesis with
forward guns. CAG, Sausage whatever second Nemesis broke through.
Assign a squadron.” Commander Ramirez ordered. Where was the XO?
“Go get them blue squadron,”
Sausage ordered.
“Wilco,” Miller’s voice sounded
exhausted.
“Radiological alarm. An Argos just
fired a nuke!”
“Second nuke!” Red squadron has it.
“Am I red or blue?” a confused
pilot asked.
“Arachne just jumped in close!”
“Firing solution main guns salvo
mode!”
“Splash one Nemesis!”
“Saturn just took a salvo in
navigation. Who was supposed to intercept?” Sausage asked.
“Athena purple team!”
“RTB all ships show green. Combat
landings.”
Rose Carey writes. “We have 30 birds
to fix, will only get to twenty. Welcome to my backlogged list ten
birds.
Day 337 since the fall Jump 7 total of
17 outbound Anabasis jumps.
James “Sausage” Redding vlog: Heavy
air resistance today. Lost another friend.
Commander Maria Ramirez: Written log.
“Made it through without losing a ship. Record is what 8 jumps.
Three more experienced pilots died today. CAG is sounding unsteady.
Got hit on three sides. Considering formation changes. To what?”
Day 338 since the fall Jump 8 total of
18 outbound Anabasis jumps.
Rose Carey in diary. “The enemy
upgraded to Revenant gunships today. Where are they getting all this
hardware?”
“Nuke! Coming in hot,” Tamar
Miller said “I got it!”
“Theres two! One just detonated off
the flight pod of an Artemis.”
“This is Avenger, we need help. Lost
pressure in the port flight pod.”
“All birds on the deck. ”Keep flak
up. All ships jump jump jump.”
Day 339 since the fall Jump 9 total of
19 outbound Anabasis jumps.
“We got base stars. First war saucer
base stars!”
“Just took a missile salvo on the
bow. Avenger is in trouble.”
“Mark seven squadrons engage. Mark
two on defense,” Ramirez ordered on the flight channel.
“More tangos just jumped in!”
“Splash two Nemesis,” Sausage
reported.
“Two nukes inbound. They are going
for Avenger!”
“Scratch a Revenant gunship!”
“We just lost Avenger!”
“Frak, there are too many of them.”
“DRADIS Arachne just jumped in
close.”
“We have boarders. Repeat. First war
centurions have boarded us.”
“Scratch another I dunno, it was
big!”
“RTB all birds. Combat landings. Flak
up jump jump jump!”
Day 340 since the fall Jump 10 total of
20 outbound Anabasis jumps. Hell ends again.
The Captain of the Tiblisi had looked
at the recon. The entire fleet was in danger if someone did not lead
some of the Cylon forces away.
With no approval he spoke to his crew
and revealed his plan. “We will jump on the other side of the Cylon
fleet and force them to pursue,” he said.
“Our vipers?” asked his XO who was
really an LT junior grade.
“1 squadron on defense. The other
assignment will be to protect the refugees.”
“Our civies?”
“Off loaded to the big battlestars.”
“So say we all Sir.”
“Here are a list of nonessentials we
are moving to Athena, your name is on it XO.”
“I stand with my shipmates,” he
crossed his arms defiantly.
“So say we all!” Said the CIC crew.
Ten minutes later….
“Flak is offline all systems down.
Nuke inbound.”
“It’s been my greatest honor serving
with you. The captain braced for impact.”
8157 souls saved.
Ramirez put every member of that crew
in for a medal.
Comments Off on Chapter 61: Hell or Anabasis mission 2. 10 more jumps.
The day after she was promoted to Admiral Commander Lawson, rather Admiral Lawson was greeted with a wireless call in her office on the Mercury. The buzzing was annoying so she answered it immediately.It was her executive officer Major Simmons.
“Do you have a conference call with Commander Ramirez and Admiral Cobb. Corey Brooks is also on the conference call.” He reported.
“Who is it?” She asked.
“It’s audio only but he says his brother cavil a model number one humanoid Cylon. Everyone is waiting for you to join the call.”
“Don’t let me slow you down put
them on.”
“Them sir?” He asked.
“A little Cylon joke,” she smiled.
“We have an announcement for you
humans. We have decided that the attack on the colonies was a
mistake. We lowered ourselves to the level of humans and committed
atrocities. We are going to leave the colonies now. They are yours to
inhabit again no harm no foul.”
Corey Brooks answered him, “No harm no foul? You exterminated billions and left our worlds to be irradiated for hundreds of thousands of years. You’re just calling that even?”
” Funny that’s what Adama and said when we told him. President Roslyn promoted him to Admiral weeks before you got your new job. Funny. I think he’s your senior officer now by a few weeks.”
“Are you in contact with him can
you take a message to them?” Asked Cory Brooks.
“Well we’ve temporary lost track of them. They’ll probably do something self-destructive and put us back on the trail. We’d rather not they join forces with you. Five Mercury class vessels and 2 Jupiter battle stars is a little bit too much firepower for you.”
“Good try,” Ramirez said
softly.
“Anyway,” the model number one
continued. “Just a some political crisis for you Baltar has been
elected president of the colonies. You see they don’t know you exist.
Do you think he’s going to be very helpful to us as your peoples
leader?” he asked. “I do.”
“Well thank you for nothing,”
Admiral Lawson remarked.
“Please let us finish,” the
humanoid model continued. “There was a rebellion on all 12 of
the colonies. They no longer have us to fight. They also no longer
have access to anti-radiation medication. There were about 30,000 of
them are all 12 colonies. Are you going to let them die a horrible
death of radiation poisoning? Or you could surprise us and rescue
your fellow humans.”
“Why did you tell us this?”
asked Brooks.
“Well we’re not as bad as humans
we can’t just leave them to be slowly killed. We prefer killing
people quickly with nuclear weapons.”
There were some interference at some
grumbling on the human side of the conference call.
“You should be careful we’ve lost track of some of our brothers in some relics from the first war with the humans. I now declare that the second war between the Cylon and human is over. Good luck and safe travels.”
“Admiral Lawson,” the executive of the People’s Council ordered. I would like you to send recon into the colonies and validate this models words. We will prepare rescue missions as soon as you let us know it safe.
The intel did not look very good. It
would take ten jumps to get the refugees from their home colony to an
assembly point where they could be transferred to other ships.
There was a convention of obsolete
Cylon ships jumping from place to place, looking for a fight. This
was peace, Cylon style.
Admiral Lawson walked up to the lectern
in the pilot ready room of the Athena. She had reluctantly given her
XO command of the Athena. Crews were pretty thin and they were
pulling pilots out of training to put them to work.
Though this was the pilots ready room,
there were several knuckle draggers present. This was acknowledgment
of the important role that would be played by the maintenance team.
“During the first Cylon war, they
called this the Anabasis run. Ten jumps to get refugees from outlying
outposts back to Caprica. This time we will be taking them from the
Colonies to our new homes. It will take 10 jumps and it will be
hard.”
“The Cylons left a large number of
older ships and Cylons behind, with the intention of making us spend
resources of blood and treasure to recover these people. The average
run could bring us 15,000 refugees. These people have fought the
Cylons for nearly a year. A lot of them will be available for us to
crew some more ships and strengthen our defenses for when the war
resumes.”
“These people are running low on
radiation meds. They need our help. We are going to do our best for
them and minimize our losses. It will be approximately one jump per
day. We may have to keep this up for twenty or perhaps 30 days.”
“Your are going to be exhausted. You will need to do more than your best. We have 318,000 souls under your protection. If we increase that a lot, we will get stronger. Any questions?”
“If the Cylons left the Colonies, why
can’t we just move back in?” An orange suited viper maintenance
technician asked.
“The radiation from all those nukes
has left the twelve colonies uninhabitable,” Ramirez took the
question. “It may be a hundred thousand years or more before these
worlds can be safe. They may never be safe.”
“It is going to be one jump per day.
You need to keep the freighters and the Celestra’s safe. You will be
drawing your supplies off one and parts needed for repairs off the
other,” Lawson said forcefully. “Jump off tomorrow 0600 hours.
Lets do this!”
A chorus of “So say we all” echoed
through the room.
Rose Carey was a level 6 maintenance
technician, who had mustered out of the Colonial fleet two weeks
before the attacks on the Colonies. She was on a cruise ship with her
fiancee when it was damaged during the initial assault on Gemenon.
The ship managed with the help of herself and a dozen other former
Colonial Fleet veterans to make emergency repairs and reach a muster
point set up for refugees.
After three months in a refugee camp,
moving twice she was more than happy to get into the service. She
served several months on a Valkyrie, before being promoted and sent
to the Mercury. She was made an assistant deck chief there and
transferred to the Saturn when it was commissioned.
She was bitter, her fiancee had been killed several weeks back and was glad to have a place to sleep and get three meals a day. Sleep was often forgotten during the high operational tempo that was maintained for months.
She got up the morning of the first
jump back from Tauron and was very pleased. There was only light
damage to a couple of vipers. The enemy force sent to stop them was
not very strong.
She made a note in her diary.
Day 310 of the second war.
Easy day. Ten planes damaged, not big
deal. If this is all the Cylons can bring we are going to be okay.
Bruce Jenkins was a 24 year old viper
pilot, having graduated from the VR school on the Saturn and doing
actual flight training on an old Artemis class battlestar. He was
assigned to the Saturn and then promoted to Lieutenant and assigned
to help new pilots assimilate.
On his first mission of the Anabasis run, he had intercepted some inbound ordinance and assisted on a kill in his Mark seven viper. It was a pretty good day. He did not keep a diary, but he made sure to give Rose Carey a high five as she checked his viper. “Nice one,” he said.
Day 311 of the war. Jump 2. Resistance
had been stepped up. A couple of viper pilots had gotten blotted out
of the sky today. Another dozen had gotten shot up pretty good. There
was smoke coming out of his high engine when he did the final
checklist. Rose Carey sniffed and checked the undercarriage of the
Mk.7. There was damage and hydraulic fluid was leaking.
“Can you get it ready for the next
op?” Jenkins asked, apologetically. “Yeah probably,” she said,
wiping grease off her forehead. “It’s going to take a while.”
“You can’t take them at too sharp an
angle nugget,” Jenkins, call sign ‘Cruiser’ warned the youthful
pilot as he tried to bring down some inbound missiles.
“Heads up,” warned another pilot.
“You got a raider on your six!”
“Break! Break! Break!” Jenkins
ordered. “Don’t worry about the missiles, don’t get killed.”
“There was a flash and a scream.”
The nugget, who had not even gotten a call sign was gone.
“FRAK!” Jenkins shouted and banged
a fist on his arm rests.
“Cruiser break right, you have a
raider on you. Classic type.”
Jenkins heard something snap and his
Mk.7 became difficult to control. He avoided the raider, jinked his
Viper, grunting as he did it and put a killing shot in three
consecutive Cylons.
“Nice kills Cruiser!” congratulated
one pilot.
“Shut the frak up. We lost a nugget
today.”
“RTB RTB RTB all vipers. Combat
landings are authorized.” On landing, he realized that he had hit
too hard, damaging his gear.
He looked sheepish at Rose Carey and
apologized as his Mk.7 was dragged into the bay. “It’s gonna take
me all night to fix that,” she complained. She gestured helplessly
at the damaged landing strut.
“I’m really sorry booster,” he said
using her call sign. “Let me help.” He stripped off his flight
suit and grabbed a wrench.
A smart assed remark was on her lips
but she accepted the help and let him start stripping the landing
strut after she locked the Mk.7 into place and lifted it half a
meter.
Day 312. Diary Entry. Sleepy. Fixed lots of bent birds. A mark went down the page where she fell asleep while writing.
_________________________
Day 313. Jump 3.
Carey wrote in her diary. “Cruiser came back nearly in tears. His squadron commander was killed. We now have a back log of 30 damaged Mk.7 vipers. We are working around the clock. Several convoy ships got hit by enemy fire today. They tried to thin out my crew today to get people to assist in the repairs. Chief Carlson stopped them in their tracks.
Day 314 Jump 4. While in the
maintenance bay they put the feed of the squadrons on the speakers.
It was scary.
“Splash one, splash two.” One pilot
said.
“We have six inbound missiles, guided
bearing down on that Artemis.”
“No don’t spin up flak you idiot, we
have it under control,” Cruiser warned.
“That Valkyrie just took a missile in
the port pod.”
“Hey whoever is firing those mines,
not through a squadron configuration.”
“Oooeee!” A pilot shouted. “Just
say a Revanant eat two mines. She’s breaking up.”
“All batteries switch to target two,”
Ramirez’s voice interrupted. “Salvo mode.” She sounded
tired.
“Three bent birds touching down on the port ventral
pad,” the announcement from the LSO warned.
“Which pod are we in?” Rose
wondered. “Starboard, that means right. Good. I don’t have to fix
those birds.”
“All vipers RTB now now now. Combat
landings are authorized.”
“Damn it!” Carey grunted. “Those
frakking combat landings bang up the birds and keep my crews up all
night.”
“Prepare for jump in five, four, three, two, one seconds. JUMP!”
Day 315. Jump 5. “Ten birds were not
ready for launch today from this deck when the Cylons jumped in. We
are dead tired. One of my guys fell asleep in a cockpit, while he was
replacing some circuit breakers. Rose was was short and thin, with
dirty blonde hair. Her eyes were red from lack of sleep,
“What the FRAK!” she said when she
saw Cruisers viper. “It’s going to take ten hours to have that
thing ready for the next fight. Cruiser, you are white as a ghost.”
She was suddenly concerned. His windshield was cracked. He collapsed,
while climbing down his ladder.
He was grounded for the next mission. A light wound, he put on coveralls and helped get the vipers ready for those who were flying.
Day 316 of the war Jump 6. Rose wrote
in her diary.
“I really appreciate Cruisers help
with the grunt work. He is crappy as a knuckle dragger, but he does
help us get things done. We worked through the battle and got all the
backlogged vipers back in action.
“Twenty more came in after the jump. Will this ever end? I’ve had seven or eight hours of sleep this week. What the frak.”
Day 317 of the war Jump 7
Rose writes in her diary.
Cruiser got back in the air today, two
days after being wounded. He is a hero in my book, getting up every
day to defend this fleet and the civies we protect. He is also good
looking athletic build, 1.8 meters tall with light brown hair.
I could live with that. It would not be
settling. I hear he is dating a pilot from red squadron, Tamar
Miller. She landed on our deck today as an emergency, due to a combat
landing collision. She is a beauty, perfect figure. I wish she had
picked someone else.
We jump, we launch all our birds, they
shoot down missiles, then raiders. Then my team fixes up the birds
for another jump. This pace is terrible on people and equipment.
Every day the freighter drops us off more spare parts, sometimes
entire vipers to replace our losses. That is why we surround them
like a cocoon.
Cruiser brought his viper home today without a scratch. He gave me a high five and then a huge hug when he reached the bottom of the ladder. I will remember this day for a long time.
Day 318 of the war. Jump 8.
Rose writes in her diary.
Lieutenant Tamar Miller call sign
“Black hair” due to her long mane of perfectly black hair was
appointed blue squadron commander yesterday. She is Cruiser’s boss. I
wonder if they will continue to date.
She and the commander stopped by to encourage us. Turns out “Black Hair” started out in the fleet as a cook after washing out as a pilot. She baked the entire deck gang cookies as a thank you. They were great.
I saw Commander Ramirez stuff a few cookies in her pocket. She should eat them. She looks gaunt. I hear she started the war as an overweight computer geek.They both made speeches. I fell asleep. My gang says they were great speeches.
Day 319 of the war
“Cruiser watch that bunch on the
right, they are busting through and going to try and kill a
Valkyrie.”
“Roger that Tamar, I mean black hair.
Nugget! On my lead, hard right, we are going to do the fancy move we
tried in the simulator.”
A nervous voice came on the speakers.
Rose paused for a moment and looked up at the speaker. “I’m not
sure I can do it skipper.”
“Nonsense,” Cruiser encouraged.
“Just like we practiced. Stay on my wing.”
There was some garbled communication
and a screech of a female voice. “Kryptor, I’m hit. I’m …”
Viper one niner two seven was hauled in
by a SAR bird.
The Ensign, Ruth Jacobs was still
inside the shattered cock pit.
Tamar Miller and Bruce Jenkins were
nose to nose and arguing while Rose Carey looked over the badly
damaged Viper.
“I told you that rook was not ready
for that move. It took me three months to get it down.”
“She was ready Black Hair.”
“She was NOT!” the squadron
commander spat back.
“She did it right. I blew the move. I
clipped her viper, knocked her off course. It was MY fault. I killed
her.” He took off his wings and smashed them into her hand. Then
he stormed off the flight deck.
“Cruiser, no, don’t do this.”
Her eyes met Rose Carey’s. She almost
shouted “What the frak are you looking at knuckle dragger.” She
stopped herself. The woman looked so worn down, with smudges of
grease on her forehead and both cheeks. “Can you fix that bird?”
she asked, gesturing toward the one with the nuggets remains still
splattered around the cock pit.
“No,” Rose answered, “that will
have to go to the viper factory and be remanufactured. Those
civilians whine a lot, but they make good vipers.”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Yes Lieutenant.”
The squadron CO draped an arm over Roses shoulder. “Its just us, call me Tammie.”
Day 320 of the war. Rose Carey and
Bruce Jenkins alone in a launch tube.
“We need you to take these,” she
handed back the wings. “I know you did your best to protect us and
that nugget.”
“I killed her,” he sobbed.
“No that was the toasters.” She
stood up on tip toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. She was so
nervous. “Honor her memory. Protect us for one more jump.”
The last jump cost the fleet a Valkyrie, but all the pilots at least got home safe.
Chapter 69: Stand off. “Get raptors out to task force Saturn,” Admiral Lawson barked. “Figure out how we are going to fill in the gaps the Cylons just tore in this task force. “We have an encrypted communication from Cory … Continue reading →
The mutiny story was a suggestion of Mullroy234 from the BSG Deadlock discord. Solaria:Commanders Quarters Lockheart, Ward, Wilson and the representatives of six other ships all agreed that Zack “Sniper” Anthony should be their leader. His record with the Colonial … Continue reading →
Chapter 67: Fleet Headquarters Battelestar Solaria Ready Room Herman Wilson’s grandfather had commanded a battlestar in the first Cylon war. He had fought under the command of Eva Lawson’s grandmother, also Eva Lawson. Also an Admiral by the end of … Continue reading →
Chapter 66: After the attempted ambush of the Mercury the Cylons pulled all their forces away from the human colonies. It was obvious to them that Admiral Lawson was taking a confrontational approach hoping that a major battle would wake … Continue reading →
Day 463 after the fall Admiral Lawson had been having trouble sleeping for many months now. She knew today was the 463 days since the fall of the colonies. She is just re-qualified on the mark seven viper. Finding time … Continue reading →
Previous Chapter Next Chapter Day 402 after the fall. As a Major and then a Commander, Eva Lawson did not like morning meetings. No amount of coffee could get the fog out of her mind before 9 am. As an … Continue reading →
Day 381 after the fall Admiral Lawson was in a temporary office in the fleet HQ. Normally she kept her office hours on the Battlestar mercury. However for the past week and a half to ship a been in for … Continue reading →
Chapter 62: Lawsons Anabasis run Day 1 Day 341 after the fall. Admiral Lawson vlog. “I hate these new digital logs,” Lawson said. “I have to have my hair done just to record the musings of my fraked up mind … Continue reading →
Chapter 61 They got ten days “off” between missions. Admiral Lawson led a huge fleet to make the next run to the old colonies as they were now often referred to as. It took seven days for Rose Carey’s team … Continue reading →
Heracles in the videos a gift from Joker of the BSG Deadlock discord, Commander Maria Ramirez was looking positively thin in her blue day uniform. She was immaculate. Every button was polished, All her uniforms have been altered to her … Continue reading →
Chapter 58 It had not pleased anyone in the chain of command that Commander Lawson had ordered the ship yard moved. The location was picked to be convenient to the resources that were required to build ships. The :big three” … Continue reading →
Chapter 57: Cease fire? The admiral argued against it, Commander Ramirez argue against it. Nothing could stop Cory Brooks in her desire to go forward with the cease fire. Truth be told the colonial fleet, disorganized and undermanned needed some … Continue reading →
Chapter 56 The meeting gave new relevance to the word clandestine. Admiral Cobb had to take two raptors in order to get to the meeting Place and a dark wind swept plain on a forgotten world that no one had … Continue reading →
Admiral Andrew Cobb sat in his office staring at the report of the recent battle. He did not know what to do about the situation. Cory Brooks had pressured him into launching the attack before he was ready. The intelligence … Continue reading →
Chapter 54: PTSD Secure communications: From: Colonial Fleet Headquarters. Admiral Andrew Cobb To: Commander Maria Ramirez. Commander Battlestar Saturn Re: Status Commander Eva Lawson We are in receipt of the debriefing of the Commando force. We have received nothing on … Continue reading →
Major Maria Ramirez looked totally different that she had the day of the attacks on the colonies. She had lost a lot of weight and had finally had a new uniform issued to her. She looked good in the immaculately … Continue reading →
Chapter 52: Operation misdirect. Admiral Cobb sat in a chair at a rectangular table with six of his “senior” commanders. Though Major Maria Ramirez did not feel senior, she was there because se was he XO and temporary commander of … Continue reading →
Andrew Cobb was an older man, the years had taken their toll on him. He was tall, with an athletic build. What little hair he had on the sides of h is head were white. He stood up when Major … Continue reading →
“We are at the communications hub Major,” the technician who was a glorified geek that used to work for her when she was head of IT. “Break in,” she ordered. The man, in his early twenties with a non-regulation earring … Continue reading →
Chapter 49 Commander Eva Lawson as a little disoriented when she awoke in the bedroom section of the commanders quarters. Her left hand reached to the other side of the bed, which she had shared with Cavil the Cylon. This … Continue reading →
Chapter 48: Hope in the ashes of victory. Cory Brooks, Executive of the Peoples Council sat in Major Martin’s office on the largest of the shipbuilding platforms. It was a giant office with a humongous wide window overlooking half the … Continue reading →
Video credit: BSG Deadlock player Lochdanon – he helped shoot a lot of the footage. Commander Eva Lawson was on a tour of the secret shipbuilding facility with Major Martin. Since the Mercury was still not considered clean from the … Continue reading →
Cavil was probably clinically depressed if not psychotic. His military campaign against the colonies was going poorly. The Galactica was leading a government taking 47,000 civilians into an exile, pursued by thousands of Cylon forces. The fleet of 1000 ships … Continue reading →
Lieutenant Arthur Garner was the first appointment for Major Ramirez and Major Martin, the commander it turned out of Battlestar Group 34. They were quite short of bodies if they could not find a combat commander. Garner was tasked to … Continue reading →
It was bizarre the way Brother John the Cylon was taken into custody. After weeks of quarantine Commander Lawson had bent the rules to have him in her quarters supposedly for a booty call. Instead of that thirty minutes after … Continue reading →
43 Major Rick Martin was on a secure video link with Commander (acting) Eva Lawson. She had a curious look on her face as she went through the thick paper file she was delivered from decontamination. “We have to get … Continue reading →
The Solaria was barely keeping up. The outbreak was much less contained there and the population was mostly civilian. Gun crews infected or not isolated themselves by living in their stations. It had taken six jumps to get where they … Continue reading →
A conference call was set up with the department heads who were involved in the search for the second force, the remnants of Battlestar Group 34. CIC was represented by Major Maria Ramirez Lieutenant Arthur Garner a thin, soft-spoken 29-year-old … Continue reading →
“Major Ramirez,” commander Lawson asked, “what have we got off the Valkyrie class Battlestar’s computer.” “Well they made an effort to keep the toasters from doing what I have tried to do,” Ramirez answered. “I’m having to correlate some video … Continue reading →
Chapter 39: Command Training It took quite a lot of preparation midst of a virus outbreak to make the scenario of training happen. The virtual reality suites at themselves with disinfectant and irradiated to make sure nothing could live. The … Continue reading →
Chapter 38: Alternate title. Recovery and Discovery Plano and Jaybird were together again, both infected with the Sunspot virus, both asymptomatic. It was a pleasure to get out of isolation and back into space flying. The mission was extremely dangerous. … Continue reading →
Colonial fleet headquarters after a computer simulated exercise. Admiral Taylor was a short, hunched man with a bald head. He was 80 years old and was a young commander of the viper wing and then a Battlestar in the first … Continue reading →
Major Ramirez was on a video screen from her quarters. The virus outbreak had reached every corner of the Battlestar. The small, cramped but well protected CIC did not allow for the social distancing necessary to prevent the spread of … Continue reading →
Karla “Blondie” Knox had the sniffles. She knew exactly where she had gotten them. Five days ago she had volunteered to co-pilot a raptor sortie because she thought the pilot was hot and she had wanted to have a chance … Continue reading →
The Benson Family had survived the attack on the colonies because they were on a vacation trip from their home on Scorpia to Caprica. Their transportation had been damaged by a cylon raider before meeting up with seven other ships … Continue reading →
Lieutenant Joe “Squirrel” Davis was 40 years old and still a lieutenant. This was not due to a lack of skill as a Viper pilot, it was due to misbehavior off duty. He was in fact an exceptional pilot who held … Continue reading →
Commander Eva Lawson walked into CIC more relaxed than she ever remembered. All her career she had been fracking up due to her strong sex drive when she could have just had a civilian relationship. This was so much easier … Continue reading →
Complete battle video; Eva Lawson and Maria Ramirez were sitting together in the pilots ready room, some papers strewn on a portable table. Battle damage had shattered glass in the commander’s quarters and office so Commander Lawson was temporarily homeless. … Continue reading →
The Mercury CIC was on edge, having attempted to jump directly into a firing position that provided a targeting solution for the main guns. The current thinking on tactics was the Mercury’s forward facing guns were so devastating the preferred tactic was to charge targets at high speed and aim at the enemy ships enter …
Captain Brad “Reptile” Adkins settled in to the commanders office on the Solaria with a frown on his face. The desk nameplate from the previous occupant, Commander Jesse Green was still on the desk. None of the crew had survived and that meant there would be ghosts on this ship.’’ Continue reading →
James “Jaybird” Thompson had been given secondary missions ever since the fall, which was only a month ago. Today he was on primary with a mission to do a micro jump and take out the refinery. His new electronic warfare officer, “Plano” was strapped in because they were in a raptor launch tube. He looked …
Twenty minutes later Commander Eva Lawson strode in to the command ready room. She was showered and her uniform was perfectly pressed straight from the cleaners. There was a spring to her step and she was ready for the first … Continue reading →
The Cavil pinned her arms above her head as he thrusted in to her. She felt a familiar feeling in her lower parts as a wonderful feeling built up toward climax. He was a skilled lover as he grunted and … Continue reading →
Cylon mobile command center A Cavil and a six stood in a room with a three-dimensional map of the twelve colonies and several surrounding systems. There were dozens of red dots scattered around the system some near asteroids or space … Continue reading →
The hiding place where they had discovered the Battlestar Solaria Museum turned out to be a good one. It seemed to be well off the Cylon patrol routes. Raptor recon showed that activity of the enemy forces was much reduced. … Continue reading →
Commander Eva Lawson was sitting in her quarters with the lights turned down. A battle plan designed to be grand and deprive the cylon fleet of fuel had done massive damage, but the price had been high. The former viper … Continue reading →
Lawson’s eyes bugged out for a brief moment. “Another three hundred civilians?” Ramirez nodded in the affirmative. “We have no place to put them,” the commander noted. “Our marine quarters are full.” “One hundred twenty percent,” the XO replied. “We’ll … Continue reading →
The mission of the squadron was to keep cylon raiders off the raptor force assigned to hit a large cylon military base. Hector “Cookie” Fishman was fresh out of viper school, having done nothing other than fly CAP since his … Continue reading →
Heather “Runner” Osinas checked her coordinates for the fifth time sinch launch from the Mercury. Her right seater was new and the pair had only flown together for two sorties supporting the CAP(Combat Air Patrol). She didn’t trust Sam “Jaybird” … Continue reading →
Commander Eva Lawson paced outside the pilots ready room, awaiting her invitation to speak. She was vary familiar with this room, but not her role. She could not overstep boundaries and act like the CAG. She had a CAG, though … Continue reading →
The new senior staff of the Battlestar mercury were assembled around a map of table. On the table was a small model of the Battlestar itself, several vipers and raptors representing the squadrons that were now able to fight. Commander … Continue reading →
Joint task force base gamma was one of a dozen bases built in astroids around the solar system containing the 12 colonies. The point of these bases was the act as a tripwire in case of a cylon invasion. They … Continue reading →
Being the best bus driver Lieutenant Olivia ‘falcon’ Volker Was always a bus driver during her career in the colonial fleet. She never had any interest in flying vipers. She preferred the company of a weapons officer and the size, … Continue reading →
Battlestar Commanders log: day four of the second cylon war. Commander Jesse green recording. We have picked up over 400 souls as we stealthily move about the battle wreckage Of what was once the colonial fleet. Where there was once … Continue reading →
Burden of command As she leaned back in a chair that was much too big for her, acting commander Eva Lawson ponder her fate. She was in command of a powerful warship. She did not think of herself as a … Continue reading →
Command is passed The rescue crews wore breathing gear due to the hull breach. Automatic doors had shut when the nuke hit. Automated systems had closed blast doors to try and minimize the loss of life. The weapon had been … Continue reading →
CIC: Battlestar Mercury Eva Lawson looked around the combat information center look of disbelief on her face. This scenario was something that every officer trained for. Normally it was a mere theoretical exercise. It took place in a classroom with … Continue reading →
Commander Green Commander Jesse Green felt the deck shutter slightly as somehow shockwave came through. He walked over to the long-range strategic map. Half the time display was dark, showing no information at all. He looked at the planet Picon, It was a … Continue reading →
CIC Battlestar Mercury The CAG stood near the center of CIC. She was on the phone barking orders at her air wing. She still near the center, the normal place of the Battlestar commander. She was oblivious to anything other … Continue reading →
The Cylon hybrid stood up a little straighter and it’s tub. Water splashed. It looked a little more alert, a little more lucid than usual. Most of the time and spoke gibberish and none of the humanoid Cylons paid it … Continue reading →
Weaponized: Life of a network router Chaoter 8 seems to be MIA! Read on I will find it if its important. The computer program ran very few cycles per hour. However it managed to remotely wake up every network device … Continue reading →
9 hours before the attack. Eva “Yevka” Lawson, call sign Joker was used to picking fights with LSO’s and winning. Pilots look down I’m these important officers. If they were real officers they will be flying not directing traffic. This … Continue reading →
12 hours before the attacks Peter Finch was an enlisted man from Aerilon. Not highly educated, he had joined the fleet to escape poverty and a possible criminal conviction. He was a mechanic. He followed instructions. Sometimes they were complex … Continue reading →
On patrol 100 km from the Cylon frontier. Lieutenant Maria Ramirez was an IT specialist assigned to the Mercury. She was about 80 kilos, medium height with straight black hair, streaked with splashes of white. She stood up straight outside … Continue reading →
“Attention on deck,” said the pilot at the podium.” Over three hundred viper and raptor pilots dressed in flight suits stood up in theater seating. “Commander Air Group on deck.” Eva Lawson was dressed in a perfectly pressed blue uniform. … Continue reading →
Eva “Yevka” Lawson was piloting a raptor, something she deemed a necessary evil. A 41 year old viper pilot she had done this one job all of her career. She had been removed as Commander Air Group of the Atlantia … Continue reading →
In a Mk.7 Viper “Viper niner one niner you are cleared to land on the port pod. Manual landing, call the ball.” Of course the Admiral remembered that they were no auto landings on the Battlestar Solaria museum. In spite … Continue reading →