Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica and all related recognizable concepts are ideas belonging to Glen Larson, Ronald D. Moore and/or others involved in the Battlestar Galactica series on the Sci-FI Channel, 2003-2009. All other characters and references are copyright 2006 RangerLord. Keep yer mitts off, without the author's permission.
Publication History: Originally published on various dates in 2006 on BattlestarCentral(dot)com, this work of fiction remains the intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Commentary, questions and constructive criticism are requested. Please use the Review function of FanFiction(dot)net, or e-mail comments to RangerLord(at)rangerlord(dot)net. Thank you, and enjoy!
The Chronicles of Dedrick
Author's Notes: The following 'story' is an excerpt from the fifteenth chapter of the Battlestar Libra collaborative fan fiction project, hosted by BattlestarCentral(dot)com. The chapter, titled "Before the Storm", is a retrospective into the histories of many of Battlestar Libra's main characters prior to the Cylon suprise attacks upon the Twelve Colonies.
Many thanks to GoldWolf, another of the Battlestar Libra writers, for her design of the background and history of Scorpia colony and the desert clans, their customs and language.
What follows is a glimpse into the background of one of my characters in the Libra tale, Colonial Marine Captain David Dedrick, formerly a grunt in the Federal Army of Scorpia Colony.
Six Years before the Storm
Atenohtep Desert, Scorpia
SFA Battalion Five Command Post
1.5 klicks southwest of El Akeem Fortress
Comm Specialist David Dedrick knelt on the packed sand before his battlecomp, connecting cables that his rigger, PFC Dalton Trager, had just dropped for him. Although the battlecomp was portable and self-contained, whenever possible Dedrick connected it to the larger, more sensitive antennas they carried in the truck. While Dedrick and Trager rigged the comm center, around them PFC Ryan Stuckey and Corporal Mike Mitchell were securing the last of the tie-lines that held the comm tent securely in its place.
Dedrick stabbed an aluminum grounding rod into the sand, and then connected it to the battlecomp's chassis with a braided copper lead. As he booted up the battlecomp he snapped his head forward with a practiced movement, causing his visor heads-up display to click into place. "Visor down!" he called to PFC Trager, letting his rigger know he was online and his vision was limited by the transparent display.
"Visor down," Trager echoed back, while he wrestled a large dish antenna into place.
"Sandman!" Dedrick called, and Corporal Mitchell turned toward the comm specialist. "Tell the LT we've got an eye in the sky on Melendi's hideout. Should have full intel in five!" From across the tent, the Corporal voiced acknowledgement and then ducked through the tent flaps to carry the message.
"Tray! Can we phone home yet?" Dedrick asked his rigger.
Trager responded, "Secure channel to Bat HQ… maybe ten minutes, Rick. Frakkin' LT picked a bitch of a spot to set up. I'm getting' all sorts of EM right outta the sand - it's like we're sittin' over a texa bed."
"Well don't tell Sandman that, or his Malaxi ass will be up all night digging," Dedrick answered. He glanced over at his rigger, watching him trying to isolate the satellite dish against the electrostatic interference from the sand. "Tray, you're gonna have to deep-spike the dish." The rigger nodded, and headed to the truck for a longer grounding rod.
PFC Stuckey walked up behind Dedrick. "Tent's up, Rick." Dedrick turned to face Stuckey, looking at the PFC through the transparent HUD, its faint glow illuminating his face. Seeing that Dedrick was already online, the PFC asked "Whatcha got?"
"V/IR composite satellite image of El Akeem Fortress. I'll have their sentries ID'ed and logged to the grid in just a sec…" A series of beeps sounded from the battlecomp, and the glow on Dedrick's face shifted to red. He stopped in mid-sentence, then slapped his wireless mic into place with one hand while he hit the wireless send key with the other. He gave Stuckey the hand signal to guard the tent as he began speaking into the wireless.
"Alert! Enemy movement north of the CP! There's a hotspot… Frak, they've got a vehicle! Perimeter, perimeter! Enemy incursion zero-one-five degrees, sixty meters!" Dedrick looked up, peering through the HUD readout at the tent beyond. Stuckey had a rifle in hand and had moved to the edge of the tent, eyes searching the darkness outside. With a flick of a switch, Dedrick blacked out the tent.
Outside, the hollow thump of grenades sounded, followed by the rising whoop-whoop-whoop of a personal alarm unit. Next came the calls of warning, a vocal alarm carrying through the camp on the cool night air.
"Gas! Code Yellow! Gas attack!"