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11-06-2006, 11:52 PM
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| SFM Nugget  Realname: Andrew Join Date: May 2006 Age: 27
Posts: 104
Downloads: 0 Uploads: 0 | BSG-23: The Raid (PG-13) **Updated** “Raptors report that Ragnar is empty. Looks like the Galactica managed to get there and take just about everything,” Jockey reported looking down at the list from his recon mission. “Warheads, computers, spare parts, the works. Nothing left but some wreckage and two boxes of food and water.” |
| Last edited by pinchy417; 11-20-2006 at 10:03 AM. | |
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By
pinchy417
on
11-20-2006, 09:53 AM
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| Update will becoming tomorrow with the rest and ending of the story. Coupled with the Battle of Picon and some other works compiled into a single volume, the story comes in at about ~75k words before going off to editors for revisions, suggestions and going back and adding details and such. On my machine, that puts it at about 202 pages in manuscript format. I tried posting tonight, but me and SFM were not getting along. |
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By
pinchy417
on
11-20-2006, 09:54 AM
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| Belu waited for the mag locks to seal. "So, where does that leave us now?" "What do you mean, Greg?" Castillo offered. "You can cut the bull, your not really in charge here are you? Just the man in uniform to give orders to the military. Intel was running this op from the beginning," Belu stated. "Pardon?" Commander Castillo said trying to hide her emotions. She knew what her old mentor was saying was basically correct. Mercury had been tapped to serve as the escort for a spook operation. "So cut the crap and pretenses. I know exactly what deep space recon is," Belu reminded her. "We caught once with our toe across the line." "And the Cylons ignored the incursion," Castillo said reminding the Old Man. "Did they?" Belu countered. "How many times did you cross the line?" Catillo sat back in the chair as looked over at her former XO hoping to get an idea on how to answer the question. "I don't suppose that was a rhetorical question?" "Depends on whether or not you want to answer it," Belu remarked. "If not then, yes, it is rhetorical, but I need to know something." The room was unbearably quite as Commanders Castillo and Quinn sat staring at each other with guilt drowning their faces. They did not have to say anything as their bodies spoke volumes. "You just happened to find a Cylon Comm relay," Belu snorted shaking his head. No one said or moved, everyone waiting on another to break the mood. "So much no need for secrets anymore," Belu slammed back at his former XO. "I'm getting too old for this *****" Belu stood up, "I'll be on Olympia...if anyone in this room so feels the need to confess their sins you know where to find me." Castillo jumped up just before Belu left the room, "What about your fleet and the corruption?" Belu paused and turned around for a brief moment, "I'll deal with that when the time comes." The Commander turned back towards the pressure hatch, "Also, I want all your astrometric reports from your recon mission. Specifically dispositions of possible supplies." "Astrometric reports?" Quinn asked Castillo. Castillo glared at Quinn, "Yes, I told him we were on Deep Space Recon. And he knows what that means." "Aye..." Commander Quinn caught himself almost saying Sir out of routine. "Copy that." "Copy that?" Castillo snorted, "You really have to get used to the whole Commander thing. Even if it is of an old beat up battlestar. How are repairs coming over here?" "Slow. We took several hits from one of the basestars in the engagement. Good news is that we have the FTL computers cleaned and ready to go," Quinn said. "SAR reports the rescue of sixteen survivors from the Valk and over sixty others from various other ships around Picon." "What about the Atlas?" Quinn shook his head, "She hasn't return yet, but she could have just gone silent." "Or she didn't make it." "Possibility." "We need those fighters," Castillo snorted. "How many did they find?" "Two-hundred Mark One Vipers, in various states of disrepair, and sixty Mark Twos," Quinn reported. "So signs the Cylons even knew the Depot was there." "I wonder what other tricks David has up his sleeves," Castillo shook her head. "Between us, you, Atlas, and Olympia, that's over two hundred fighters." "Yeah, but we're a long way from being able to field more than a squadron," Quinn countered. "The comment about only having three operational tubes...that wasn't a lie." "I know, but didn't Ron say that he could have a couple more operational?" "If there were parts available. They'd pretty well stripped all the rest of the tubes out and the Cylons destroyed the depot they were being stored in. That wasn't exactly our day," Quinn reminded his now college. "What do you think David is going to do." "Honestly, I can say I don't have any idea. Listen, I'm going to redirect some of our parts to Olympia instead," Castillo told Quinn. "Give the Old Man half a fighting chance in case David has other ideas." "The tests with Nerucine thus far have proven successful. It's matter now of just producing enough," Quinn said. "Still, we have no idea how it will effect the toaster models, we just know that the biologics are human enough for the agent to work," Castillo said. ***Pacifica Hanger Deck*** Belu walked out with his Marine escort and caught the Chief working on one of his Viper Mark Sevens. "How's it com'n, Chief." Wilson did not even bother to stop, stand, and salute, as the members of Mercury crew assisting her did. The other crewmen looked each other as it seemed like the Chief had no respect for the Old Man. "So far..." Wilson began, "We got these two fully patched up and ready to go. About a half dozen more still need something done, but are flyable." "Good," Belu remarked. The other Crewman still were uneasy as most finally dropped their salute. "Becky...?" Wilson called out still not familiar with all the Mercury deck hands. It had only been a few hours since she had made her way off the civilian flattops and Defenders and on board the Pacifica. "Becca, sir," the young girl answered. She looked barely old enough to wear the uniform. Her braces did not help the image. "What do you need?" "A pair of tiny hands to reach in here and grab that filter by-pass," Chief Wilson said sliding down the wing to the deck. "Aye, Sir," Becca said scrambling up the engine and snaking her long, thin, bony around to the manual shut off valve. "But Sir, is it really a good idea to by..." Jessika looked up over her shoulder, "Not for very long, but we're going to have to rebuilt the entire unit. That could take days at the current rate of backlogged items. At least this way it can fly in case of an emergency scramble." Jessika looked up at the Commander's cold Grey eyes. "Anything I can help you with?" "I want to speak to our pilots," Belu said rather muted. "Sir," Wilson began uneasily. She knew what she had been told, "They are in quarters resting. I think it's best for them to get some sleep." "I only need one of them," Belu said with a concerned look on his face. The Chief was a straight shooter. Something Belu admired about the young woman. She also was comfortable with skipping protocol when there was something more important for her to do. Unless it was an official visit, she never saluted the Old Man while on the hanger deck fixing things. It was her job to fix things, and Belu could live with not having to return any more salutes if it meant his pilots were flying safely. "They were all pretty tired," the Chief said looking down the corridor at a group of three men sweeping the flow. "I see," Belu straightened up. "What's the run down? Who did we loose? Who made it? Major Miller is going to want to know." "Um, four nuggets, and two cadets bought it. All the regulars and old timers made it back alive this time," She offered. "Good, I want you to come with me back to Olympia," Belu said. "But, sir," Wilson protested as the three men stood up and took notice. "Most of these kids are one notch above rooks." Belu looked over at the faces. He saw at least two Petty officers in their thirties. "Those two look experienced enough. Come with me Chief, that's an order." "Yes, sir," Wilson offered taking off her work gloves and handing her tool belt to one of the Mercury Deck gang. She followed Belu into the Raptor quickly flanked by the two Olympia Marines. She waited until the hatch sealed and the cabin pressurized before letting out a sigh of relief, "Thank you sir. The spooks..." "Got to you first, I know," Belu offered in a firm, but comforting tone. "And our pilots?" "Being debriefed," she answered. "But not here. They took them off ship via shuttles. I don't know where they are." Wilson noticed how distracted the Old Man seemed. She was too, at least she knew the pilots of the Raptor. Both were old time vets on board Olympia. Usually the Commander was focused, but this situation seemed to have him worried. That was enough to give the Chief second thoughts. "You've dealt with these people before sir?" "Unfortunately," Belu offered. "And I don't like what I'm seeing. Tell me, did Daphne seem like her usual self?" "You mean grumpy, irritable, and cranky," Wilson quipped. She could tell the Commander was not amused, "A little more than usual. But given the entire situation, I figured..." "She lied to me," Belu mumbled. "Sir?" Wilson asked not quite making out what the Commander grumbled. Belu looked the Chief in the eyes, "She lied to me. She said they had been out on Deep Space Recon for almost twenty months. That kid on the flight deck couldn't be more than eighteen." "Deep Space Recon? I've never heard that tasking before, sir," the Chief said. "It's a euphemism. They've been out past the red line and near the Armistice line, probably past it. There are provisions in the treaty that allow for scientific expeditions to be mounted in unexplored regions," the Old Man said. "Right, single ship, lots of detailed protocols, I remember hearing something about that once before. Only civilian ships though and only one at a time," Wilson remarked. "I do remember that much." "Well, for the first couple decades, we didn't even go near the Red Line for fear of provoking another war. Then finally, a research group went out, followed all the protocols, and entered past the red line," Belu said. "And?" "And nothing happened. One craft jumped in and then left. That happened each and every time on each following mission. We'd mount one every six months there after," Belu said. "I thought no one had seen or heard from the cylons?" "We never saw them...exactly. They came in and jumped out before we could ever get a positive ID," Belu answered. "When we get back to Olympia, I want to assemble the senior members of the crew. There is something I need to tell them. Something we need to revisit." |
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By
pinchy417
on
11-20-2006, 09:58 AM
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| "Governor, our people on the Intellect Node are having some problems with the crew...they seem to be a little more idealistic than most," Gina told the group. Maxell looked at Andreas, "I thought this was your show?" "The Intellect Node?" Andreas questioned looking through the list of ship names. "What kind of a name is that for a ship?" Anatolia joked. "Here it is," Andreas' voice sparkled, "Variably gravity research vessel converted from an old tube and spoke luxury liner." "The Intellect Node," Anatolia mocked, "I guess it fits a bunch of nerdy smucks." "What's more is that they claim that there is an Undersecterary Caroline Hoover from the ministry of defense on board. She is questioning our right to command the fleet apparently," Gina added. "An undersecterary...ohhh, a third rate Adar appointee," Maxell mocked. Andres cocked his head slightly, "No, we don't want to underestimate her. She's already got military ties and a legal claim to the powers of the presidency. Given that I don't think Belu likes us very much." "Why are we so concerned about Belu?" Maxell questioned, "We've heard what Major Grant said...the man isn't going to bother us." "Until he finds a suitable replacement for us," Andreas countered. "Let's face it, he merely tollerates us because we can spare the resources to manage things right now. As soon as he doesn't need us, he'll declare Martial Law and take direct control over everything. He's military...that's how he thinks." "Oh, and what makes you the expert? You never spent a day in the service," Anatolia outed her lover's lack of military expertise. "Please, Belu has basically shrugged off everything we've asked of him." "Exactly," Andreas snapped. "That's why we need to deal with him and make sure the Fleet knows where they really stand." Anataolia put her head in her hands and sulked for a moment. "No, no, no, you got it all wrong," she protested. "So long as Belu has the supplies to operate his ship, I don't think he is really going to care." "I have to disagree with you, dear," Andreas said. "We have this one chance to show Belu who is boss and get rid of the only check in the fleet over our power. When those transports return, most of the supplies will be on ships we directly control. With out food...Olympia doesn't survive." "That's if our ships make it back," Governor Maxell said. "The Boss wasn't too happy about letting Belu use them in the first place." "He was when he figured out what kind of leverage it gave us," Andreas smirked. "Speaking of which, three ships have just jumped in," Gina said reading a small note just handed to her. "Only three?" Maxell sneered. "Yes, all Colonial Defenders," Gina replied. One of the interns handed her another piece of paper, "No wait, here are the others. Looks like all but one of our ships returned. There is one Flattop reported missing." "Missing?" Maxell said. "The Boss ain't going to be happy and I'm not telling him." "I'll tell him," Andreas bitterly grinned, "Besides, he doesn't like you very much anyway." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Maxell demanded. The speaker on the Governor's Desk suddenly came back to life. It was tuned to listen on a special frequance set up between the Governor and Belu. "Sounds like the Olympia is back," Anatoila dismissed. "This is the Battlestar Olympia to Governor Maxell. Mission report is a sucess. Although we got a little beat up in the process. The good news is we brought friends back with us," Belu's voice echoed in the Governor's make shift office. "Friends?" Andreas mouthed. "Look at that," Anataolia said pointing out of one of the portals. "Looks like they've found another Battlestar." "Another one?" Maxell jumped out of his seat and dashed to an open window. He squinted trying to make out the ship in the dim light on the edge of the system. "That old thing. Looks like a piece of scrap." Andreas pulled out a pair of theatre specticals and focused on the name plate. "Pacifica," he mumbled, "Impossible, that ship was retired months ago." "Retired, doesn't look that way," Maxell grumbled. "Considering there it is." "Attention, Civilian Administration, this is Olympia Actual, please respond," Belu's voice echoed again in the chamber. Gina walked over and answered, "The governor is currently tending to matters of the fleet. This is Gina his personal assistant, can I take a message?" She could tell the hesitant pause on the other end as the ambient sounds of the CIC muddle through the static. "Yes, tell the Governor we need to have a face to face chat on board Olympia as soon as possible," Belu instructed. "Sir, the Governor has a very busy schedule..." "It just got cleared. I want him and you here in ten minutes. We're sending a shuttle," Belu demanded before hanging up on the channel. "Governor," Gina spoke up. "I heard," Maxell grunted staring over at Andreas. "Wipe the smug look off your face." "This could be a trap," Anatolia suggested. "If so, we're still here," Andreas countered snuggling up to his favorite lover. "The Boss is meeting with the our people from the mission and personally getting the cargo manifests as we speak." "Good for you," Maxell grunted grabbing his jacket. "You two, have fun while we're gone." |
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By
pinchy417
on
11-20-2006, 09:59 AM
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| "Will do." Maxell gazed out of the window. Gina did the same on the other side of the ship. "Mercury," Gina said. "What?" Maxell questioned. Gina pointed out her window as the huge battlestar filled the round window. "Another Battlestar, they found two," she commented. "And this one is a newer one. A top of the line model." "Three battlestars," Maxell sighed. "They're plan isn't going to work now," Maxell commented. "Why do you say that?" "The fleet is too powerful now. I mean one ship, but with three, no The Boss is going to have to reassess his plan," Maxell stated. "He hasn't survived this long as head of the organization by fighting battles he can't win. Besides he seems to listen to Andreas," Gina offered. "That's even worse. Andreas I think has it in his head that the Boss will become the new King of the fleet. There is no way the Fleet will let that happen. If there are going to be any kings, they are going to be wearing a Fleet uniform," Maxell said. Gina looked disappointed in her lover, "Why say this now. Why say it to me?" "Because, this is the first chance we've had to be alone since the attack. If I told that to Andreas, how long until you found me dead or...just disappeared," Maxell said. "I believe that young man was right. Belu's concern is to live. And that should be our goal too. We're all that's left of our race. It's the eighty thousand lives out there on those ships. That's it. If we fail...we end. All the organization can do is plot its power move." Gina shut the curtain as a blinding blue light from Olympia's sub-light engines filled the cabin of the shuttle. Maxell continued looking out of his portal window into the depths of space until the inside of the landing bay filled the view. "So, what's your plan here?" "Talk to the Commander alone. Hope he will listen to reason and to warn him," Maxell said. "And betray the Libra Conglomerate...just like this," Gina protested. "Before they betray me...I'm just a pawn...I've always been just a pawn. I let them run things and turned a blind eye in exchange for the illusion of power," Maxell gulped. "When I am no longer useful, they'll ditch me faster than Anatolia drags down a cigarette. Loyalty is an illusion too." "So you just turn on them, before they do the same to you," Gina shook her head. "I thought you were...." The sound of the docking collar hissing to a hard seal stopper her comment as three Marines stepped dressed in full combat gear. "What is this?" Maxell demanded. "A Coup?" "No, sir," the Marine said. "We've been ordered to escort you and the lady to the Commander's stateroom." "Stateroom? What are we going to have dinner too?" Gina snorted. "I don't know, Ma'am," the Marine answered. "Please follow us." ***Olympia CIC*** "S-s-s-sir," the Communications Officer said. "Yes," Major Miller looked over his shoulder. "C-c-c-ommander on the line, wants to speak with you," The communications officer stuttered. Miller grabbed the nearest reciever and answered, "XO". "Has the shuttle landed?" Belu's embittered voice echoed in Miller's ear. "Yes, sir, about a minute ago. They still havn't disembarked," Miller answered. "Grab your gun and meet me in my stateroom in five," Belu ordered. "Sir?" Miller questioned, but it was too late, the Commander had already disconnected. "What was that all about?" Rhodes asked. "I have no idea," Miller said, "I need to find a side arm." "Here," Rhodes said rolling up his pants leg reveling an Officers pistol in an ankle holster. Miller looked at the young man, "You always..." "Just since the Cylon attack. Can't be too careful," Rhodes answered. "Spare mag?" "Hope not," Miller said checking the weapon's safety. He cocked the chamber back and a single shell ejected. "And you keep a live round in the chamber?" "Yes," Rhodes answered. "You know how stupid that is, right?" "Yes. But I don't want to have to think about it if we're boarded. Besides, it's double action with heavy pull. Safest way to carry," Rhodes countered. "Safest way is unloaded and locked up," Miller countered placing the pistol in his pocket. "You have the watch." "Aye, sir," Rhodes answered. |
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By
pinchy417
on
11-20-2006, 09:59 AM
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| ***Belu's Stateroom*** The Chief was already sitting on the old worn, synthetic leather sofa. "Chief? When did they let you back on board?" Miller called out happy to see his old friend. "I didn't know we had started to recrew." "We haven't," Belu barked. It did not take long to notice Belu had his Officer's pistol on the table and the Chief was carrying fleet standard issue. "Trade you," Miller said to the chief pulling out the officer's pistol. "What, think I want a girly gun?" the Chief countered loading an explosive round into its chamber under the main barrel. "Any one care to tell me what the hell is going on?" Miller asked. There was a banging on the door. "There isn't time, get back here and play along. Hopefully you won't need that, but can't be too careful," Belu said. Miller shrugged and walked over beside the Commander's desk. "Enter!" Belu called out. The door opened and Governor Maxell and Gina walked into the room followed by three Marines. Two more Marines stood their normal watch outside the Commander's quarters as called for by Fleet regulations. Gina looked around nerviously trying to avoid the direct staring eyes of Belu. Maxell waited several moments before speaking, "Okay Commander, what is this all about?" "I only have one question...why?" Belu shot directly at the Cylon agent. "Why?" Maxell said taken back. "Why what?" He was completely confused by the statement. Did the Commander really know about The Conglonate's plan to take control of the fleet? It took several moments for the Governor to realize the cold, dead expression on Gina's face as she and the Commander exchanged death glares. Maxell watched the Chief and Miller, who were just in the dark as he was, "What is going on here?" The marines lifted their weapons slowly to aim at the Cylon as par Belu's instructions before they met the shuttle. The young kids did not know why, but it was not their place to ask questions; only follow orders. And they did, to the letter. "Yeah, I'd like to know that myself, Commander," Miller chimed in. Belu continued his unwavering stare, "Why did you do it? Why now after all this time. Why haven't the rest of your kind come to finish us off?" Miller s****ched his eyebrows completely confused and look around at the Chief and Governor. Both were just as baffled as the XO. Miller gulped, "Sir...I'm fraking confused...." "She's a Cylon," Belu interrupted. The room fell completely silent save for the sudden move of the Marines cocking their guns on the cue Cylon as instructed. The governor's head shot over at his lover and secretary. He saw the cold expression on her face, one he had not seen before. His head moved rapidly between her face and the Commander's several times before he took a bold step away from Gina. His sudden movement was met by one of the three Marines redirecting the weapon in his face. "Cylon, Sir...she doesn't appear to be chrome plated," Miller said not sure if the Old Man had lost it or not. He took the gun and placed it as his side with his right index finger on the trigger, just in case something had to be done. "Unless you count the platinum blonde," Wilson snickered. No one laughed as Miller's comment may have been sarcastic, but in a serious way. "...Right..." "I have to agree with the...um...," Maxell said not knowing how to read rank. "Major," Miller offered. "Right, Major...I can vouch that no part of her body is made of metal," Maxell said. "Okay, did not need to know that," Wilson shuttered. "Her," Belu began, "I can understand, she was programmed, but you? Why would anyone partner up with the Cylons." "Me?" Maxell said defensively. Belu continued, "Unless your a Cylon too." "A Cylon, what the frak is going on here, Commander...have you gone insane!" Maxell defensively accused. "Yeah, Sir, I'm..." "In the past forty years, the Cylons have evolved. At somepoint they began to look like us. Over twenty years ago, we came across an old derelict, or so we thought, Cylon Basestar. We boarded it. While something catastrophic had happened, it was still alive," Belu recalled. "Sir?" Miller said again. Belu shot his new XO the same glare he was giving the Cylon, "I'm trying to explain, Major." Miller took a small step back to ease the tension a bit. "Okay, you found an old basestar," Maxell encouraged. "The boarding party entered the ship, encountering no resistance. Upon entering some of the compartments they found body parts. Human body parts of the small human contingent crews that were on the ships before the Cylons when crazy and started killing humans," Belu said. "We did not go crazy," Gina offered in a cold, mechanically monotone voice. "We?" Maxell's eye's widened in shock. "We?" "Yes," Gina coldly replied. "Humanity is a flawed creation." The Commander said no more about the mission and stood up. He was nodding, "So, that's it...Humanity is a flawed creation. That's your justification for wiping us out." "Hostilities were bound to happen again. You were pushing...with your incursions, electronic ease dropping ships disgusted as civilian research vessels. But we also changed. We evolved. Humanity's children came home to replace imperfection with perfection. It is God's will," Gina answered. "The Gods' will...what do they have to do with anything?" Miller questioned. "God's will is everything," Gina answered at the Major before turning back to Belu. "Tell me Commander does Elven-sixty seven mean.." A shot rang out as everyone jumped and then raised all mannor of weapons. Belu had made a snap move for the pistol on his desk, grabbing and pointing it at the Cylon. Quickly a second and third shot rang out with two of the three shots striking the Cylon and one round hitting a Marine in the chest. Gina fell to her knees and looked up at the Commander. Miller watched rose his pistol at the woman and noted the smirk on her face, a look of final victory, and then saw the flashes from the Marine's carbine singe the back of the woman's head. The next thing Miller recalled was Belu's limp body dropping the pistol and falling backwards just missing his chair by a hair causing it to go shooting off as the Commander's body hit the deck hard. Miller rushed to the side of the Commander and felt his neck for a pulse and then placed his ear against his chest. Nothing, no pulse, no breathes. The Chief dashed over and looked down at the floor as Major Miller attempted CPR. Jessika grabbed the phone and pressed teh circut for combat. "Combat, this is the chief. We need med techs and a crash cart to Commander's quarters." |
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By
pinchy417
on
11-20-2006, 10:00 AM
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| ***Olympia CIC*** "What? W-w-w-w-w-w-hat?" the Comm officer tried to cope with the frantic call from the chief. Rhodes looked over at the Petty Officer and saw the color from the man's face drain before his eyes. "What?" Rhodes asked as the sparsely manned CIC seemed to stop and focus on their attention on communications. The Comm Officer fliped a switch and Chief Wilson's frantic voice filled CIC, "Repeat, the Commander is down, we need emergancy med techs with crash cart to the Commander's quarters immeately. Repeat, Repeat, Commander is down." Rhodes braced himself against the Command and Control plotter for a moment. It seemed like he was in a daze, somehow disconnected from his body as he picked up the nearest reciever and sounded the alert over the 1MC. His crackling voice filled the nearly emtpy corridors of the skelton crewed Olympia, "Emergancy Medical team to Commander's Quarter's with crash cart, repeat, Medical teams to Commander's Quarters, this is not a drill!" ***Belu's Stateroom*** Rhodes' crackling, voice fill the chamber repeating the call a second time as Miller continued to frantically try CPR to revive the Commander. After at least three minutes had passed, Medical personnel began flooding the small room pulling Miller off of Belu's body. Miller flailed wildly in shock and tears as the Chief drug the XO out into the corridor where curious crewmember had already begun to flood. The Marines stood their distance with the governor in flex cuffs. The next thing Miller knew was he was sitting on the deck out in the corridor with tears in his eyes as the Chief was yelling something at him, but his mind had shut down his ears. "Sir, you have to get to CIC...your in Command, Aten!" the Chief said slapping the Major back into focus. "Go, get to CIC, now!" Wilson said dragging Miller to his feet and giving him a push towards the crowd. Wilson walked over to a couple crewmen and ordered them to make sure Miller got to CIC. They snapped a quick salute and escorted the Major town towards CIC as more Marines arrived in full combat dress to help deal with the on lookers and to clear a path for the gurney as the med techs rushed the Commander towards medical with a manual ventilator over his mouth. The sergeant of the Guard Michael Rowe arrived just as the Commander's lifeless body flew down the corridor under escort. "What the hell just happened Chief?" Wilson stood there and blinked a few seconds as things began to soak in. "I don't know," she offered blankly. "Sir, we have a man wounded too," one of the Marines told the Sergeant. "Maybe you could tell me what happened?" Sgt. Rowe entered into the Commander's stateroom and saw the pools of blood from the Cylon and his man down on the ground. "How bad specialist?" "Knocked the wind out of him," the Specialist answered. "Body armor stopped the round. Thank the Gods the Commander wasn't using explosive rounds." "Sir, Commander Belu accused this woman of being a Cylon. She didn't deny it either. In fact she admitted it," the first Marine finally answered. "She said something to him and Belu snapped. Picked up a weapon and fired twice...I think. And then he collapsed...it all happened so fast." "Cylon...what about him?" Sgt. Rowe asked pointing at the Governor. The Marine shook his head, "He seemed just as surprised, sir." "I'm not a fraking Cylon!" Maxell screamed. "She wasn't a Cylon either." ***Olympia CIC*** Miller stumbled into Combat in no shape to Command as he was still in shock. The small crew bombarded him with questions. Miller walked over to Rhodes. Rhodes could tell something was seriously wrong by the lack of expression on the Major's face. The DRADIS beeped. No one paid any attention except for the Communication's officer who noted the green stars on the screen. "C-c-c-clyons!' "What?" Rhodes said looking up at the screen. "Holy frak. Sir, four Cylon basestars just jumped into DRADIS range. What are your orders?" "S-s-s-sirs, Commander Mercury on Colonial Priority channel!" Rhodes waited a second for Miller to stand to his post, but time was too critical. It was clear the XO was lost. Rhodes picked up the receiver and paused trying to think how to answer. "Belu?" Castillo's voice said in the receiver. "No, this is Lieutenant Rhodes...the Commander...the Commander and XO are currently incapacitated, Sir," Rhodes answered. "I'm in charge." "Five..now S-s-six C-c-cylon Baseships and they are launching raiders," the Communications officer stuttered his warning. "Right, I am ordering you to commence Jump prep. Prepare to go jump with the rest of the Civilian fleet to coordinates designated Exodus Three. We'll provide cover. See you on the other side," Commander Castillo's voice said. "Right," Rhodes said slamming down the receiver. "FTL!" Rhodes barked. "Spin up drives one and two, let's get the hell out of here." "Sir, our fuel supplies are at critical. I don't know if we have enough Tyllium for another jump," the Crewman at the FTL drive warned. "Well start praying," Rhodes said. A few moments passed, "Sir, I read green lights across the board." "Jump!" Rhodes ordered. Time and space contracted around the ship. "Report!" Rhodes demanded on the other side. Everyone checked their stations. Rhodes looked up at the screen. "No Cylon contacts...yet," "Sir, I have red lights on the board...that was it...we don't have enough in the tanks to make another jump," the Crewman said. "Right," Rhodes said slamming the plotter in frustration. Miller was still dazed and shell shocked. "Where's Major Loren?" "None of the flight personnel recovered on other craft have come back on board," The Communications Officer told Rhodes. "How many ships have made the jump?" "Seventy eight...nine...eighty four so far," the Communications Officer said. "And I just got a fix on a Tyllium refinery ship." "Tell them we need to tank up ASAP," Rhodes commanded. Lieutenant Rhodes picked up the receiver and flipped the switch for the 1MC. "All hands, this is the Watch Officer. We are at zero fuel and cannot make another jump. If the Cylons manage to follow the fleet, there will be no escape. All crew to evac stations. There is a Tyllium ship inbound, but we have no way of knowing if we will get enough fuel on board in time. If the Cylons show up, abandon ship." "Not again," one of the Crew women remarked as she departed for her assigned evac station. "Well," Rhodes sighed, "We got this far. It's something." "No new signals in the past ninety seconds," the Comm officer stated remaining at his post. "How many total?" "One fourteen." "Mercury, Pacifica?" Rhodes asked. The Communication's officer shook his head. "Defenders?" Again a resounding no. "What now sir?" the Communications Officer asked. "We wait. Until we're refueled or the Cylons finish us off," Rhodes replied. |
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By
pinchy417
on
11-20-2006, 10:01 AM
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| Chapter Miller sat alone in the dark of what once had been the Pilot's Rec room. It was empty, only a small amount of light escaping in from the corridor. He was sitting in his dress greys pondering what all had happened when a shadow in the doorway caught his attention. "Permission to enter Pilot's Rec area, sir," Chief Wilson asked standing at attention. She was wearing her duty uniform opposed to her normal orange flight line jumper he was used to seeing. Miller motioned. Wilson turned up the lights enough so she could make her way into the unfamiliar surroundings. Technically as an enlisted officer she was not allowed in the area, but the pilots never cared and had always invited her in for a drink now and then. "Have a seat chief. What's the bad news?" "Well, not all hope is lost, yet. We have eight Vipers and twenty-two pilots on board. Plus four raptors and one strike raptor ready to fly. Also we have about a thousand crewmembers inbound from the civilian ships," the Chief said. "The governor wants to talk to you, Commander." "Commander?" Miller questioned. "Last time I checked..." "Well, it's official..." Wilson smiled opening a box with Commanders pins. "We didn't have any in storage, so we took them from Belu. Somehow I think he'd appreciate you having them." "I never wanted this," Miller admitted trying to hold back the tears. "I just wanted to be a pilot and a flight instructor, get my fleet retirement and then teach flight school three days a week." The Chief sat down and poured herself a drink from a half empty bottle, "I hope you haven't downed this much." Miller shook his head, "Three shots." "You sure?" "Positive," Miller said sipping his Top Ace stein full of coffee. "There's a pot of Torna coffee over there. Last I know of in the Galaxy. Might want to try some." "Never been much of a coffee gal," the response was not what Miller wanted to hear, "But if you insist." the Chief grabbed a white mug and filled it up and took a sip. While still bitter, it did have a rich body and much better than the fleet oil they served in the messes. "Man, wish I had tried this stuff earlier. Although I like the hard stuff," she said toasting her mug before filling it to the brim with Ambrosia. The two sat there in silence. Wilson hated silence. That was one of the things she liked about the hanger deck, it was always noisy, always something going on, always something to do. "So...thought of what to say?" "That there's no hope. That our only hope died with him?" Miller answered with a blank stare. "Not the thing to say, sir," the Chief scolded. "You get the final lab reports back?" "Yeah," Miller said. "And I read the report sitting on Belu's desk." "Your desk now, Sir," she reminded him. Miller sighed, "So the Cylons look like us now and no way to tell until you burn the body. Docs say that their readings showed synthetic compounds just like the astrometric reports the Mercury transmitted over." "I heard. Rhodes is having a field day. That stuff is like candy to him," Wilson chuckled. "So is he your XO?" "Know of anyone better?" "Not at this point. What about CAG?" "Who's left?" "No one, really," Wilson sadly admitted. "Well at least that we have on board right now. There are still eleven of our Vipers on one of the civilian ships used during the raid along with pilots." "So that gives us how many fighters?" "Nineteen, twenty-one if you include the two museum pieces we still have on board," Wilson smiled. "One squadron, and two squadrons worth of pilots...most of them cadets and rooks," Commander Miller lamented. "Perm..." "You never needed it around the Old Man...you certainly don't need it around me...speak..." "Sir, I know you want to be all doom and gloom, but you can't. There are over a hundred civilian ships out there. Survivors, sir. We need hope and something to live for, Sir. It's not enough just to survive," the Chief said. "You got any ideas?" The Chief sat there for several minutes before adding, "No, but this isn't what's bothering you is it?" "No," Miller said shaking his head. "But your the best person I have to talk too." "Shoot," Jessika urged. "I loved Jewels...and..." "And never did anything, because of regulations and a thousand other reasons that seem like feldercarb now." "What do you use that word, why don't you just say bull**** like the rest of us?" Miller grinned for the first time in what seemed like months. "My grandmother...she hated it when we cursed. And since they used the word to skirt censors...well...we used it around her," Wilson said smiling. "Gods rest her soul." "The attack?" "Oh no, Me'ma's been dead for twenty years. Died skydiving on her seventh birthday. Parachute didn't open," Wilson said shaking her head. "Oh, just the way she would have wanted it." "At least now I know where you get it, Chief," Miller smiled. "Yeah, well," Wilson shrugged taking a gulp of her alcohol laced coffee. "Any word from the Mercury or Pacifica?" "Nothing. We waited for three hours," Miller said. "We couldn't wait any longer." "I'm not questioning the order," Wilson remarked. "It was a wise call." "Maybe," Miller admitted. "The Governor is out of hack, right?" "Yeah, that's not what he wanted to talk to you about. He sounded...well apologetic. Said he wanted to get off on a new foot with you," Wilson added. "He's going to be at the funeral?" Miller asked. "Yes," Wilson answered. She straightened up, "Look, for what..." "Hey Commander!" a familiar voice yelled out echoing off the hard walls. "Charmer? You made it?" Miller said standing up. Charmer flashed his old friend a half-assed salute. "So does this mean I'm CAG now?" "Frak no...I wouldn't make you CAG if you were the last pilot in the fleet!" Miller shook his head. "Hey, Chief!" Charmer said lifting the short woman off the deck with a huge unexpected hug. "I am I glad to see both of you...hell all of you. All those frakking civvies whining and complaining...how the frak did you ever put up with me!" "I dunno," Miller smirked. The Chief tried to compose herself after her feet reached the deck again. "Well, good to see you too, Sir. If you all will excuse me, I'd better be getting back to the Hanger Deck. Say hello to all my people." Jessika and Miller exchanged a quick grin and nod. Their conversation would have to wait another day. ***Hanger Deck 5*** The priest finished his reading and prayers from the Sacred scrolls. Governor Maxell sat next to newly promoted Commander Miller. The crew was somber, many in tears leaning on their shipmates for support. Lt. Rhodes was the first to speak, and barely got through a sentence before breaking down and leaving. Miller took to the podium and looked out at his crew. "I spent the better part of the last two days trying to think what to say. I got a lot of advice, some that I asked for, and even more that I ignored. We are here because Commander Belu made a choice: to run when the Cylons attacked. Some questioned that wisdom. Some are still questioning the wisdom, but we are alive." Miller looked out at the crew, "But it is not enough just to survive. Before his death, Commander Belu gave me this piece of paper with coordinates. Coordinates he said where we could find help. Find a future. Starting tomorrow, it is a new day. A day where we go out into the universe to find a new home. A new home where we can not only survive, but thrive. Where this is life...there is hope. Belu never lost sight of that hope and as I take Command of the Olympia...I pledge never to lose sight of hope." Miller snapped around and gave one last, long salute to the Commander's flag draped coffin has Marines fired off a twenty gun salute of blanks and the coffin slowly made it's way into the launch tube and eventually out into space. After the airlock closed and a moment of silence to remember the dead, Major Rhodes stepped to the podium and dismissed the crew. ***Commander's Stateroom*** "Still got the Marines outside," Maxell said entering the room uneasily. "She had me duped..." "I believe you," Miller said looking at the floor. "They clean up well around here," Maxell commented as there was no evidence that anything had ever happened. Miller sat down in the plush chair Commander Belu had used for years, maybe decades, at least since Miller had joined the crew. It was strange sitting at the Old Man's desk, the Old man's chair, having the Old Man's stuff around, and now he was the Old Man. "Yeah, I guess they do," Miller half-heartly said. "Although I didn't know she was a Cylon, I have my own sins to confess," Maxell started. "The Libra Conglomerate pulled the strings. They were plotting ways to take control of the fleet. Ways to leave Olympia with no choice put to accept their control over fate." Miller sat there and paused for a moment. Just long enough to give the Governor a moment to worry. "We knew about your ties to the mob," Miller admitted. "And we were prepared to live with it so long as you all weren't stupid enough to interfere with military operations." "Most of the ships directly controlled the Conglomerate, including The Boss, didn't make our last jump," Maxell admitted. "Those that are left are low ranking ship captains that did work for us on the side. Smuggling, low level piracy. They aren't a direct threat to the fleet." "I see," Miller said, "So where does this leave us? After all we have the problem that there could be other Cylons that look like humans out there." "And what about those list of coordinates?" Maxell questioned. "Those coordinates...was where the Olympia and Mercury were supposed to rendezvous. We'll send Raptors there for the next couple days, and see if anything pops up, but I doubt it." "Why did you only wait three hours?" "Fleet protocol," Miller lied. "I see. About where this leaves us...your in command of the Military. I propose we work together to ensure humanity has a future," Maxell said. "What about elections?" "I'll take the title iterm-leader or something. Elections were in less than a year. So we hold them on their assigned date as stated in Colonial law. Why, you thinking of running," Maxell retorted. "Hell no. I don't really want this job, if you want to know the truth of the matter, but Commanding the Fleet is enough for me," Miller admitted. "Well, The Friendly Janet has extended an offer to become the new Colonial One. If you could spare a shuttle, Commander," Maxell stated. "I think we can manage that, Mister interm-Fleet Administrator," Miller offered his hand. The two shook on the agreement. "So if you don't see anything at those coordinates..." Miller drew a deep breath, "We'll take the next couple days to study these astrometic readings from Mercury and our own readings...try to jump to the nearest system with possible resources and no Cylons. I'll keep you informed." "Alright, and Congratulations, Commander," Maxell offered. "Too bad it had to be like this." "Good luck to you too. As I said, we'll be in touch." "All that I ask, and I have to ask...hate to pester, but what the hell does eleven sixty-seven mean?" Maxell asked. Miller shook his head and admitted, "I have no idea. Something I guess the Old Man took to his grave." "I never heard, what was the final diagnosis of what killed him?" "Old age and stress," Miller said citing the report, "His heart just gave out." "Well, I'll grab a Marine and see if I can't find the docking port." |
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By
ven1ce
on
11-20-2006, 09:27 PM
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| Quote:
 Keep it going. | |
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. Do you have an updated .pdf version?
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