FOREWORD
Given that the story of what happened aboard the Scylla and the civilian fleet found by the Pegasus is so integral to my 'Battlestar Hermes' stories I felt that it was a good idea to write this one shot as a way of fleshing out the days before the start of 'Salvage'.
CIVILIAN TRANSPORT SHIP SCYLLA
APPROXIMATELY ONE WEEK SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES
The shot rang out through the large open plan cargo bay where many of the passengers had assembled upon hearing that they had been found by a Battlestar. James Deveroux stood on a platform at the rear of the cargo bay and looked down at what was happening below. The first body had slumped to the floor as the dark haired female Colonial Officer moved to the next person assembled on the floor and lying on their knees.
Another shot rang out. Another body fell dead.
Deveroux watched with some glee as this pattern was repeated over and over until there were ten bodies strewn out across the floor. The deck plating on which they laid had turned a dark and oily red colour. Some people panicked. Others simply stood and watched helplessly. As Deveroux looked down he uttered quietly under his breath, "This is better than the theatre."
What no one aboard the Scylla knew at that point was that there were two enemies onboard their doomed ship that day. On the one side were the Officers and Marines of the Battlestar Pegasus. On the other, buried within their midst, was James Deveroux – a Cylon Number One.
BATTLESTAR HERMES BS-58
THREE DAYS LATER
The scarred hull of the Battlestar Hermes sat in the eternal night of space. The majesty that the vessel once commanded was now gone, replaced by black burns and several holes in its armour varying in size from a small coin to the size of a Viper. It had been over a week since the battle above Picon and five days since the last Cylon contact. Everywhere aboard the ship there was a feeling one could describe as being reminiscent of a boxer the morning after the big fight.
Commander Artimus Bowman trudged solemnly to the CIC having been called there by Colonel Caleb Dytto only several minutes earlier. As he walked through the door to the 'brain' of the Battlestar he found damage control teams still at work on several stations. The CIC was a clutter of loose wires and damaged screens and Bowman had to watch his step being careful not to trip over equipment or the odd engineer.
"Report!" he ordered as he approached the Operations Desk that dominated the centre of the room.
"Commander," replied Dytto who rarely if ever addressed Bowman as 'sir'. The two of them were never friends. From the day that Bowman was appointed as Commander of Hermes over Dytto the Colonel had made every effort to let it known that he felt he was the one for the job. The fact that the colonies were gone changed nothing. "We've detected what appear to be three vessels at extreme range."
"Cylons?" asked Bowman.
"That's what we suspected at first but they were moving away from us at a relative snail's pace. Then one of them started sending out a colonial transponder. It's civilian. The code indicates it's the Simonides, a civilian vessel registered out of Virgon. We've tried hailing but there's no response."
"They maybe having trouble with their wireless," speculated Bowman as he looked up at the DRADIS screen hanging over the Operations Desk. The three blips at the far end of the semi-circular display continued moving away at sub-light speed.
"Or this maybe a trap?" suggested Dytto. The suggestion seemed to echo around the room as it caught everyone's attention.
"That's a distinct possibility Colonel," said Bowman whose gaze remained fixed on the screen.
"Well?" pushed Dytto seemingly surprised at Bowman's lack of action. "Commander?"
Bowman's eyes stayed firm on the screen as he watched the three blips apparently trying to run from them. His military mind began to work as put himself on the Simonides. Why am I running from a Battlestar? Why have I switched on my transponder? These two questions dominated Bowman's thoughts. One possibility was that one of the ships was out of control and the others were offering assistance but that didn't explain why there was no wireless contact.
Suddenly, the blip marked Simonides broke away from the other two and began moving in a different direction.
"The Simonides has altered course!" announced Lt. Chloe Burmeister, the Hermes Tactical Officer. "New heading four-two-one carom six-zero-zero."
"That's almost a complete course reversal," added Dytto. "Maybe they are turning around to attack?"
"Or to get help?" interjected Burmeister.
"No!" said Bowman conclusively. "If it was either then why aren't they coming directly for us? They're heading away from the other two but aren't quite heading towards us. They obviously have control over their ship." Bowman kept thinking and it soon dawned on him. "They're trying to lure us away from the other two. They switched on their transponder to make sure we had their attention and then offered themselves to us. They're sacrificing themselves to save the other two."
"But why?" asked Burmeister. "They know we are a friendly."
"Well that is the question isn't it Lieutenant," said Bowman as he picked up the telephone handset from the corner of the Operations Desk. As he held it up to his ear he turned to Chief Petty Officer Durand who was manning the comms station. "Put me through to the CAP!"
"Yes sir", replied Durand.
BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT AIR PATROL
ON APPROACH TO SIMONIDES
'Griffon' peered through the transparent canopy of his Viper Mark VII at the ship ahead of him. The blue glow of the four sublight engines illuminated some of the hull and he could make out that it was a container ship. At least six immense containers were attached to the cylindrical hull of the main vessel. As he and his wingman, 'Slammer', got closer to the vessel he again tried hailing the ship hoping that if they had a visual of the Colonial Vipers they would know they weren't being deceived by Cylons and would respond. Once again, however, there was no response.
BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE
"Hermes this is 'Griffon'. Have made visual contact with the Simonides but they are still failing to respond to hails. I can just make out several figures in the cockpit and they are moving so we have got bodies over there."
"Roger that 'Griffon'," acknowledged Dytto over the wireless. "Keep trying to raise them!"
"Understood Hermes," crackled 'Griffon's voice over the speakers. 'Griffon's voice continued to emanate from the speakers above their heads as his attempts to raise the Simonides continued to meet silence.
"What abut the other two?" asked Bowman referring to the other two vessels that were no longer on their DRADIS. A Raptor hadn't long been sent to monitor them as they moved further away.
"'Stinger' and 'Walleye' are keeping a fix on them," said Dytto. "They haven't got very far."
"Go away!" The voice that shrieked over the speakers caught everyone's attention. "Get the frak away from us! You've taken everything we have. Just leave us alone! What more do you want?" The terrified and angry voice suddenly cut out.
"Patch me in!" ordered Bowman to Durand before again putting the telephone handset to the side of his face. "Attention civilian vessel Simonides, this is the Battlestar Hermes. We are here to render humanitarian assistance should you require it. Please acknowledge."
"Humanitarian assistance! Is that what you call shooting people?"
The CIC was filled with stunned and confused faces. Bowman lifted the handset. "I am afraid I am not following you. Could you please clarify?"
"Just leave us alone!"
"Actual this is 'Griffon'. Their engines are glowing bright hot. They're trying to pull away from us."
Bowman turned to Durand and asked, "Am I still on?" Durand nodded. "Civilian vessel Simonides, I assure you I do not know what you're talking about. Our aim is to offer assistance. You are the first civilian vessels we have encountered since the attack on the colonies. The very survival of our people may depend on what we do here."
"I told you to just leave us alone! Plea-"
The wireless suddenly went dead. There was a few seconds of silence before 'Griffon's voice crackled through the speakers once again. "Hermes, their engines just flamed out. I think they're out of fuel. She's floating helplessly."
"What's going on out there?" asked Bowman not expecting an answer from anyone except a God. "Why are they so afraid of us?" He turned away from the DRADIS screen to look at Dytto who stood on the opposite side of the Operations Desk waiting to see what Bowman was going to do next. "Colonel, assemble a team to take over there. Take a medic and a few engineers in case they need either."
"What if they don't want to let us come aboard?" asked Dytto.
"You're not going to shoot your way in if that's what you're asking, Colonel. We are going to offer these people our help. It's up to them if they want to take it."
"Understood," said Dytto before turning to leave the room and assemble his team.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER
The Battlestar Hermes manoeuvred alongside the Simonides, dwarfing the civilian vessel. It had taken several minutes of wireless chatter to persuade the near hysterical Captain of the Simonides to finally let Dytto and his team board the ship. With a Battlestar bearing down on them and no fuel to try and escape he soon came to realize that whether they came aboard or not chances were his ship was doomed.
The docking of the Raptor went without incident and soon Dytto and his six man team were stepping out of the small craft into a deserted cargo bay. At Bowman's insistence only sidearms were taken along fearing that anything larger might further antagonize this already volatile and confusing situation.
Standing in the empty room the puzzled crew looked around for any sign of life. There wasn't any. Dytto spied a hatch at the far end of the room and began to walk towards it. As he got closer the round handle began to spin as someone opened it on the other side. The hatch swung open and a rather portly man in a white shirt and grey trousers appeared. On his shoulders were lapels each emblazoned with four gold bars indicating he was the ship's Captain.
No sooner had the Captain stepped through the hatch he began to close it once more. He seemed to make every effort to ensure that it was sealed shut behind him thus keeping them in the cargo bay.
"Hello sir," said Dytto holding his hand out.
"Look just frak off!" shot the Captain venomously. Dytto's hand instinctively recoiled back to his side. "I told you on the wireless we didn't have anything left. Why can't you people just leave us alone? Pegasus left us with nothing."
"Pegasus?" gasped Dytto in surprise! "The Battlestar Pegasus?"
"That's right," said the Captain. The Captain saw the surprised faces of the visitors aboard his ship. "You…don't know about the Pegasus?"
"No!" replied Dytto. "As we tried telling you we are from the Battlestar Hermes and we are here to offer assistance."
"How do I know this isn't some sort of trick?" asked the suspicious Captain.
"Why would we want to trick you?" asked Dytto whose temper was beginning to boil with the man.
"We don't have anything left of value," pushed the Captain determined to hammer home that fact.
"Ok," said Dytto. "We've established that. Now, do you have any injured? We've brought a medic with us to help. Unfortunately our Doctor was killed a week ago but I give you my word that we will do what we can." Dytto looked at the expression on the man's face. He could see he was getting through to him but that he was still a little weary. "I tell you what. Why don't you allow our medic see to any wounded you may have. While that is happening you can come aboard Hermes and speak with my Commanding Officer? What have you got to lose?"
Reluctantly the Captain agreed.
BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE
"What?" gasped Bowman horror stricken! "Let me just clarify what you are saying here Captain Forsythe. Crewmembers from the Pegasus boarded your vessels and shot civilians?"
As Bowman had sat and listened to the dark tale being told to him from the civilian Captain in the chair opposite his desk he felt the pit of his stomach twisting and lurching as it unfolded before him. The thought of Colonial Officers behaving more like Pirates sickened him to his core. Even his uniform, something that had always been a symbol of pride for him, felt tarnished by the actions of the Pegasus crew.
"They took our FTL drives," continued the Captain. "They stripped anything they could use. They rounded up anybody they felt could be useful. They even took most of our food supplies. The first ship they went to was the Scylla. There was some resistance and…"
"They shot the family of anyone who didn't comply," finished Bowman.
Captain Forsythe simply nodded. "After the Pegasus left us for dead we knew that to stay together would be suicide so the fleet dispersed hoping that the Cylons wouldn't be able to track all of us. We haven't had any contact with the others since then."
There was an uncomfortable silence as the story embedded itself in Bowman's mind like a weed that was strangling the roots of his soul. The silence was finally broken by Forsythe asking the six million cubit question, "What are you going to do with us?"
"We've made contact with the Scylla and the Medea. They are on their way back here. Given the condition of your three vessels I think we don't have any other choice but to bring your passengers and crew aboard Hermes. To do otherwise would be like…murder."
"Is there enough room for three thousand people aboard your ship?" asked Forsythe.
"I guess we are going to find out," replied Bowman. It didn't matter one way or another to Artimus Bowman at that point. He felt like he had to make amends for what had happened aboard the Scylla even though he was innocent of any wrong doings. He was part of the same organization as those guilty of murdering those people and he felt that by default he shared the blame.
Over the next few hours the Raptors of the air wing began ferrying passengers from the three ships. It was slow work but the Hermes or the civilian vessels lacked any transport shuttles that could move the people on mass. There were the usual objections and criticisms from Dytto about Bowman's plan to bring them all aboard but the Commander, not being in the mood for Dytto's usual bile, quickly suppressed them.
Down on the Hangar Deck, Chief Imlay felt swamped as the refugees boarded the Battlestar. He had one of his deck gang paint a crude yellow line across the floor for them to follow until they were off the Hangar Deck and then no longer his problem.
There was a sudden crashing sound near one of the Raptors that had returned from the Medea. Imlay turned around and saw that two people, a young woman with blond hair and an old man, had fallen off the wing of the Raptor as they climbed down. Specialist Gorseinon helped the old man to his feet and so Imlay rushed over to the young woman. He couldn't help but notice how bright her hair was even though it hadn't been washed for several days.
"Here, let me help you up there," he said to her with an outstretched hand.
"Thank you," she said nervously reaching up to take his offer of help.
"There you go," he said as he pulled her to her feet. "Welcome aboard the Hermes Miss…"
"Saunders," replied the young woman. "Melissa Saunders."
"Well Melissa," said Imlay caringly. "If you just follow this line it will lead you off the Hangar Deck to the barrack section."
"O-Ok," she stuttered as she struggled to take in what was happening around her. The journey to the barrack section of the ship seemed long and confusing as the civilians were navigated through a maze of corridors. Once there Marine guards guided them in making sure that every available space was taken up. The barrack section was designed for fifteen hundred Marines for a short space of time. Nearly three thousand civilians were now, somehow, going to make it their home for the foreseeable future.
One of the last to enter was a man in a long grey jacket and a peaked hat. As he stepped through the hatch he walked in to what seemed like an overcrowded cattle market. He suddenly heard the loud clunking of the hatch as it was closed behind him thus trapping him inside this claustrophobic hell with the very thing he despised most – Humans.
James Deveroux looked back at the now closed hatch and empathized with his enemies who were trapped with him inside this make shift 'Slum'. If he were on the other side of the hatch then he might have enjoyed the spectacle of seeing these people crammed in to this space unfit for the duty it had been given.
"I got to get out of here," croaked the Number One model Cylon to himself.
With the closing of the hatch that day, the Battlestar Hermes became part Colonial Warship and part refugee camp. In the space of a day and on the back of a tragedy it had become its own micro-colony fighting for survival in the eternal night.