The Fall

John Tait walked out onto the bridge of his vessel and looked over the consoles that displayed a host of information. He had commanded his own vessel, the cargo ship The Stobart, for several years now – mainly doing runs between Caprica, Tauron and Virgon. It was a broken down old tramper, falling apart at the seams and currently dead in space with main and secondary engine failures.

"Report" he asked.

"Secondary engine will be up in about an hour's time" reported his engineer. "The main is too fraked for us to handle on our own. We'll need at least a week in a proper drydock to get it working again"

"At least we're close enough to get to Caprica on the secondary engines" said Tait. "We'll have to tell our clients we can't–" he was cut off by his First Mate, a black man from Virgon named Smith.

"Captain? We've just sent out a transmission towards deep space"

"Something I don't know about?" Tait asked. "Malfunctioning comm system?"

"Dunno… Comm system is saying it aligned from a command sent via the engineering override"

"Not me" said the engineer with a frown. She reached over to a small panel and flicked one switch downwards. "Bridge to Engine Room. Anybody send a message using the engineering override?"

"Yes…" came the reply. "You'll see in a few moments" the voice of their second engineer sounded cruel and mocking. Shannon Inviere had been picked up to serve as their Second Engineer – having a large amount of experience according to her files. Tait had hired her on the spot and thought himself lucky when the engines had gone down.

"You want me to go down and get her to confinement?" asked Smith.

"She's sealed the doors" Tait replied, pointing to the monitor screen. "It's not Colonial Fool Day is it?" he asked.

"That was last week" replied Smith. The navigational panel started bleeping as it detected something in front of them. "DRADIS contact. 123 carom 841… Closing fast"

"Maybe she sent out for help?" Tait suggested.

"It's a design I am unfamiliar with" said the Mate as he looked at another display. Twin hull, central connection…" Smith snapped back to look at Tait. "Cylons dead ahead"

"If that's a joke" said Tait, "Then it is in bad taste…"

"Look out the fraking window" said Smith, and pointed at the ship that came into visual range.

"Oh gods…" the engineer said. "She's an agent for them"

"Get us out of here"

"I can't – the engines are offline"

"Spin up the FTL"

"Offline"

"Sitting ducks" said Tait. "Arm weapons systems. Standby to open fire"

"Sir? Nothing we have will touch their armour" Smith said.

"Cylons do not normally take prisoners" Tait said. "I learnt that lesson in the War. If we're going down, we're going down fighting. Align the comm system to send to Colonial Fleet Headquarters, Picon. Give them our position, details and what has happened. Tell them we're going down" he looked at his engineer. "Use the thrusters to get us moving. Aim for the middle of the Cylon ship"

"Aye"

"Helm" Tait realised this might very well be the last orders he gave. "Helm, all ahead full. Open fire"

#

Unaware of what was happening, a lone ship plodded its way through a massive debris field. Dozens of vessels had been destroyed in battle with the Cylons, and salvage was salvage – even if the battle had happened just over forty years ago. The vessel in question was an old Colonial Fleet ship named Exeter. One of the original Hawk class of Battlestars, it had been sold nearly a dozen years ago to her current Captain. David Turndike was a salvager and had brought Exeter so that he could do large jobs in one go – reducing the amount of trips he and his crew had to do. He did not pay as much as some of the bigger companies or pirates, but Turndike was much liked and had broken off a salvage job a few times when a crewmember's family member was about to die. It was for this reason that he had the loyalty of everyone.

"I've been working on the railroad, all the live long day…" somebody sang softly as he stepped onto the Bridge.

"How are things?" he asked.

"We're getting some of the deck plating into the holds now, but we're fairly sure that will not take more then the next hour or two. Had a few incoming messages for the crew, but that's about it really. Oh, we picked up a message on the Fleet Channels"

"Now you know you shouldn't be listening in"

"I know Captain" replied the Communication woman, "But I was doing a reset of the array. Seems the Armistice Officer hasn't reported in yet to Headquarters as he should have done"

"Sounds like a power failure" said Turndike. "Not as if the Cylons are suddenly going to appear out of the blue"

"I wouldn't be so sure" replied the woman. "I mustered out of the service around the same time that Valkyrie came back after a classified mission. I never really found out what happened, but I know she put in a request for a missile to replace one used"

"She popped one off?" Turndike frowned.

"Seems like it" the woman said to him. "I heard a rumour that she had to shoot down one of her own Vipers, but nothing was ever proved"

"Mmm… I have the watch" Turndike said, moving over to the middle of Exeter's bridge and sitting in the padded chair that was a hold over from the ship's original days as a serving Battlestar.

"Engineering to Bridge"

"Bridge, Captain"

"Sir, we're running a little hot on reactors 2 and 3. 'kay to shut them down for repair?" came the voice of his Chief Engineer, Georgey Spanswick – a busty red head from Caprica.

"Damn it… Go ahead" Turndike closed the comm link himself without another question being asked. He was getting sick and tired of the ship falling apart at the seams. He just hoped to get enough money to put the Exeter into a ship yard for repairs and overhaul. A few moments later, and the lights dimmed to bare minimum and most of the consoles powered down.

"Comms offline"

"Switch to the back up system"

"We used that to patch the mains"

"I see" Turndike said. "Inform our shuttle crews that we're moving out of the debris field enough to use passive comm system. Helm, ahead one quarter on thrusters only"

"Sure thing, captain" and the man at the Helm moved the controls and brought the ship out of the debris field – where upon the passive comm array started to come to life.

"Sir?" it was the woman at communications again. "I'm picking up some odd messages here"

"Such as?"

"The entire Caprican Defence Zone just went to Condition Two"

"What the frak?" Turndike flipped a switch on his chair and heard the same messages. "Broadcast our ID beacon and position to Caprican Defence Command" he ordered. "It'll be pirates or the SRA I'm betting"

"That would only have a few ships at that alert level" said the communications crewman. "I'm hearing all of the fleet round here is at Condition Two… Something major is going on"

"Exercise?"

"Nothing was me –"

"DRADIS contact" came the Helm crewman. "Four contacts bearing 197 carom 082. Range is 10,000"

"Identify them"

"Nothing is in the book according to DRADIS logs"

"Go to visual scanners and search"

"Scanning… Duel primary hull, central axis… Warbook says it's a Cylon Baseship. But its got loads of differences if it is"

"Let me take a looksie" Turndike said, looking at the visual scanners that still worked despite the low power status. "Oh Sweet Lords…" he whispered. "All Hands on deck. All Hands on deck. Bridge to Engineering. Get those reactors back online. Helm, prepare for an FTL jump. Navigation! Plot us a jump away from here – maximum range. Arm all weapons and prepare to fire"

"Captain?"

"The Cylons are back" Turndike became as pale as anything.

"We've no weapons… Reactors are going to take four minutes to warm up"

"Cylons are launching Raiders and are coming after us" said the navigation officer. "Two minutes to weapons range"

"FTL online. Three minutes until we can jump"

"Override the safeties!" shouted Turndike. "We need to get out of here" and then he looked over the weapons console – sitting unused. "Tell our crews that they have one minute to make it back to the ship… Otherwise we have to leave them behind" he hurried over and sat down at the console. Flicking some switches, he brought up the low power scanner and locked onto the incoming Raiders. The design was somewhat different, but he knew what they were in reality. "Captain to Engineering. Chief? I need battery power to the weapons grid"

"I can't power everything"

"Just give me the bow turrets" Turndike said.

"Aye, Captain" Spanswick said. "Power diverted"

"Helm, Z axis rotation. Bring us about to face the enemy" Turndike knew that some of the thickest armour and hull plating was towards the front of the ship. By turning into the incoming raiders, he would be able to stay that extra time.

"FTL is powering up. Two minutes until we can jump"

"Shuttles are incoming"

"Sir, they Cylons are attacking all of the colonies at once. Ships are shutting down all over Colonial space and I', hearing that most of the planetary defences are down"

"RADIOLOGICAL ALARM!" called the navigator. "Inbound nuclear missiles coming from the Baseship. One minute to impact"

"Helm, full reverse" Turndike ordered. "We need as much time as we can get. I'm opening fire now" and he fired the forward cannons. When Exeter had been sold, most of her weaponry had been plated over and rendered inactive. Her missile tubes had been closed and welded shut for all time. All she had was four Anti Aircraft cannons on the bow, six on each side and a solitary pair on the stern – just above the engine blocks.

"Shuttles coming in"

"Come on, come on, come on…" Turndike muttered. Raiders, despite his valiant defence broke through and fired cannons and missiles at the old Battlestar. The ship shook and groaned under the force.

"FTL online and spooled up" came Spanswick's voice.

"Jump"

"But we've not got the shuttles on"

"I know… Jump" and just as the FTL engaged, there was an almighty explosion that ripped through the Bridge and tossed everyone to the deck.

#

"Gods damn it…" said Turndike. He rubbed his head gently, felt blood and tried to sit up. Looking around, he saw burning consoles and dead bodies littering the Bridge. "Anybody alive?" but there was no reply. Dragging himself up to a sitting position, he rested for a moment before dragging himself to what looked to be the sole working console. "Bridge to Engineering"

"Engineering"

"Chief, I need some people up here as quickly as possible" Turndike said. "The Cylons took out everybody on the Bridge – I'm the only one up here. None of the consoles are working except for the DRADIS monitor. Can you bring us to a full stop?"

"Aye" Spanswick replied. "I can do that quick enough. We've taken a lot of damage and have three hull breaches, but luckily all of the bulkheads closed in time so we saved a lot of lives. I can have a crew and a medic there as soon as possible" and Spanswick cut the line.

"Better make it quick" and Turndike flopped to the floor and the world around him went black.

#

"How are we doing?" asked Turndike. It was several hours after the attack and he was laying in his quarters – sent there because of the fact Sickbay was overwhelmed from the injuries.

"We've got all the reactors back online, life support is working, we're repairing some of the damage and I've got teams working on unsealing some of the missile tubes – though that's something of a back burner project right now" Spanswick said. "We've lost a lot of good people today" she added.

"How many?"

"Over two hundred" came the chilling reply. "And we're still finding more as we open up compartments"

"Do you know where we are?"

"Somewhere near Canceron. Navigation is almost useless at the moment with all of the debris – we're not able to take a star sighting to confirm"

"Shuttle to Exeter" a tiny radio crackles into life.

"Spanswick"

"We're picking up some faint wireless traffic ahead of us. Sounds like a couple of Battlestars up against heavy Cylon forces"

"Can you figure out their names?"

"Only the flag ship… I think it is the 23rd Fleet with the Tusk" came the reply.

"Very well…" Spanswick was cut off by Turndike taking the radio from his Chief Engineer.

"This is the Captain. Return to the Exeter at once" he switched to the intercom. "Attention all hands, this is the Captain… As most of you know, the Cylons have come back in force, and I think that they might be here to finish us all off. I have just been informed that there is a Colonial Fleet task force ahead of us, and I intend to join up with them and stand the line to protect our homes. I want a jump plotted to put us on the line and all weapons manned and ready to fire. Captain, out"

"Sir… I have never questioned your orders" Spanswick seemed unsure of herself, "But we're somewhat of a wreck ourselves"

"As long as the Exeter can manoeuvre she can still fight" Turndike said. "Help me to whatever you have rigged up as a Bridge"

"That'll be the old Command and Operations Room" said Spanswick. "We've hard wired some stuff, but she'll be as sluggish as hell"

"As long as we can bring our guns to bear" Turndike said. "Have the word passed for all outer compartments to be closed up. I'm going to vent the air from them so that the missile won't do as much damage" he looked at his old friend. "I want you to rig the reactors. If it looks as if we're going to be boarded, then I'll take us right at the nearest target and blow us up. I'd rather face the Gods knowing that I took out a toaster"

"Should I have somebody throw a grenade into the kitchen?" Spanswick asked dryly.

#

"All hands" Turndike said into the intercom, "All hands brace for impact"

#

"Jump complete" called a crewman. "Reading three Battlestars and six Cylon vessels – capital ship size. Multiple fighters on both sides. Cylon fighter craft coming in towards us"

"Very well" said Turndike. "Attention Colonial Fleet, this is the salvage vessel Exeter. We've come to render aid to you"

"This is Major Tom of the Tusk. That's a no go, Exeter" a man's voice came over the wireless. "We're all critically damaged and breaking up. I'm ordering all vessels to abandon and head for you. Are you pods working?" and the Captain looked at a crewman who gave a thumbs up.

"That's affirm" Turndike said. "We'll take everything we can. What are your intentions?"

"We'll give you as much cover as possible before we break up. Just get our people away from here before there's no chance of surviving" Tom said.

"Copy that, Tusk. We're turning toward the enemy now to take some of the fire off you. Exeter out. Helm, come right by thirty degrees. Gunnery control, standby to open fire on incoming Raiders"

"We've not got anything to lock onto them with" another crewman said.

"Then just look out the window and fire at anything not showing Colonial insignia" Turndike said. "Chief, can you handle the incoming?"

"Sure, Captain" and Spanswick hurried out.

"We just lost Juno" somebody called out, and Turndike looked up to see one of the icons on the DRADIS monitor burst into multiple contacts before vanishing.

"Helm, close in to the remaining ships" he ordered. "Anybody that can be spared, report to the port and starboard pods to aid in the evacuation. Exeter to Tusk. We're taking on as many of your people as possible. Set your guns and helm to automatic and get the gods damned hell out of there"

"Automatic systems had us in this situation. We're almost done for… Given half a chance, I'm going to ram the leading Basestar" Tom said.

"Is that what we're calling them now?" Turndike muttered. "We've got good armour and we're still firing. We'll make a sweep through their lines and give you a path through to them"

"Negative" replied Tom. "You've got all of our people that are getting off now. Gods Speed, Exeter" and the wireless link was closed.

"Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer… Take the lives of your sons and daughters lost this day, especially those of the Battlestar Tusk into your hands and grant them life eternal" somebody muttered. The DRADIS signature for the Tusk moved closer to the Cylon Basestars, renamed from Baseships, firing as it went.

"Spin up the FTL drives – standby to jump. Secure the flight decks. Helm, full reverse" Turndike ordered. "Attention everybody, this is the Captain. Standby for emergency FTL jump"

"Last Vipers are aboard, Captain" Spanswick called from the flight deck.

"Retract the flight pods"

"Not enough time"

"Damn it… Standby to jump in 3, 2, 1" and Turndike turned the key and the Exeter jumped away from the battle as Tusk rammed into the leading Basestar – blowing them both up.

#

Over the following few hours, some of the salvaging crew started making repairs whilst the Fleet looked after their own people. The senior officer who had survived, a full Colonel, had made it clear that his first intention was helping in the rearming efforts so they could better take on the Cylons for a counter attack. Rumours went around and around with a credible one being Commander Adama assuming command of the Fleet and ordering all assets to regroup at Ragnar Anchorage for a counter attack. After another jump to an asteroid belt at the edge of the Helios Beta system, Exeter drifted at station keeping whilst efforts were made to open her missile ports. Teams of salvagers and Fleet people worked to bring long dormant and deactivated systems back into service. Within a day, the main bow cannons were working and the ammunition hoists from the magazines were connected and tested. Vipers sat in all of the launch tubes with a second wave parked right behind them, Raptors sat on the flight decks with missile loads and a Raptor was sat just outside the asteroid looking for signs of the Cylon war machine.

"Ah. Colonel" Turndike looked at the Colonel walking onto his Bridge.

"Captain" the officer nodded. "We've got all of the cannons working as well as the majority of the AAA stuff. Some of the hull repairs are going to have to wait, but we're ready to leave whenever you are"

"Go where?"

"After Galactica"

"No, Colonel, we're going to get parts and as many supplies as possible" Turndike said. "I was thinking about jumping to the orbit of Picon and sitting right above the magnetic pole"

"That would throw off their sensor equipment" the Colonel said – a man named Gates. "We'd have to shut down everything active and most of out systems to completely avoid detection, but the Cylons shouldn't see us at all. I assume that you'll be launching Raptors and Shuttles to pick up pieces and supplies"

"Yeah… I'm hoping that the Cylons only took out military assets because I think that there was at least three Heavy Lifters at Picon. If that's the case, we can get flight crews to them, get them loaded with as much crap as we can and then get the hell out of here"

"I was thinking about that" said Gates. "I was somewhat reluctant to discuss this, but our best source is the battle sites where some of the fleet put up a fight. I'm just hoping that we can find more ships"

"How would a Gunstar or two do you?" asked Gates.

"What do you mean?"

"Before the attacks, the Picon yards were building a couple of Gunstars. From what I heard, they were both somewhat completed with life support, basic navigation and FTL drives installed. The plan was to put skeleton crews aboard, launch them and then trip them over to the fitting yards at Caprica"

"Cylons would have blow them to pieces" Turndike replied.

"I am not so sure…" Gates replied. "The Cylons only attacked vessels that were active. I know they did not take out the reserve fleet and the storage yards"

"How many Gunstars?" Turndike asked.

"I heard that three of them were completed before the attacks. Any survivors could have taken them, of course, but I am betting they wouldn't have made it that far"

"You sure?"

"Its worth looking into" said Gates. If we can get just one of them working, it will be a great asset in any future attack. Captain, I'd like to request the use of one of your biggest Shuttles with a squadron of Vipers as escort"

"Military assets are yours, Colonel" Turndike replied, "But I'd like to know about the Shuttle use"

"I was thinking of whats coming up soon" Gates replied, glancing around the Bridge.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, Captain…" Gates looked around again. "I was thinking of a new clear future" and he winked.

"New clear – Oh, I see" Turndike smiled a little. "I'll pilot the Shuttle myself, Colonel. By that time, we'll have the heavy missile tubes opened up and checked, so we'll be able to simply drop them into the tubes"

"We'll have to rig their systems to accept commands directly from the Bridge without authorisation codes" Gates said. "After that, it's a question of what we do"

"What we always do, Colonel Gates… Go toaster shopping"

"DRADIS contact!" shouted a Fleet officer.

"Where?"

"Hundred and fifty thousand clicks outside the asteroid field. Bearing of 000 carom 00"

"Sound off action stations, Ensign" Gates said.

"Aye. Action stations. Action Stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship. All pilots man your Vipers"

"Helm, all ahead one third. Spin up FTL drive" Turndike ordered. "Looks like the shopping will have to wait"

"You sound like my ex husband" Gates chuckled.

"We've got an FTL failure" called another Fleet officer. "FTL drive Alpha is offline"

"I need a reading, Mister" Gates said.

"I'm having trouble getting a firm reading through the asteroids, but I think we're facing at least three large contacts" the DRADIS officer said.

"Load main bow cannons with Armour Piercing" Turndike said.

"You ex fleet?" Gates asked.

"No" Turndike grinned. "But I have played a lot of Raptor Talon in my time"

"This is not a game, Captain"

"True… The Cylons will be expecting us to fire the main cannons and then make a turn to put the most guns onto them – right?"

"Yeah"

"So what if we go full tit at them, fire a few rounds off and then jump out of here?"

"What about the offline FTL drive?"

"We'll go without it" said Turndike grimly.

"DRADIS clearing up… I'm reading Colonial Transponders" the officer spoke up again. "Reading a Fuse class Electronics Vessel and two Caprica class Police Frigates"

"Attention unknown vessel. This is the Caprican Police Frigate Cambrian. Send recognition codes or be fired upon"

"I don't suppose you have any codes?" Turndike asked Gates. Gates simply shook his head in reply.

"It was the second thing to get on my list"

"What was the first?"

"Get off my ship alive"

"Fair point. Cambrian, this is the salvage vessel Exeter. Our code is Foxtrot Romeo Alpha Kilo Younger Oscar Sierra. Confirm?"

"That'll do, Exeter. Do you happen to have any military people aboard?"

"A couple. Why?"

"I think I best talk to you aboard your ship. Permission to come over on a shuttle?"

"Granted. I'll see you in thirty minutes. Have that civvie get behind us and you and that other paddy wagon assume formation topside port and starboard. Exeter out" Turndike looked at Gates. "You have the Bridge, Colonel"

"Aye, Captain… I have the watch"

# # # # #

"I'm glad to see a friendly face, Commander" said the police officer.

"I'm a Captain – a civilian Captain" Turndike said. "Don't let the Exeter's size fool you. We've had some fights of our own, but we've been running silently for a while now. Whats the situation out there?"

"Cylons took out the Colonies – all twelve of the bloody colonies" the officer said. "Oh… manners" he chuckled. "The names Manning – John Manning. I've been in charge of the Cambrian for just over a year now doing rounds around the local Caprica to Tauron routes. We had a pair of Baseships jump right on top of us so I jumped out. We met up with the Achilles a few hours later escorting the Furlong. She helped us safeguard our systems from Cylon attack"

"I heard about that" Turndike passed Manning a glass of whiskey. "Something about the new nav program"

"Right! The Cylons have somehow managed to infiltrate the entire CNP program"

"CNP?"

"Command and Navigation Program. Its designed to make computer betters and to network them so they run faster" Manning replied. "Caprica Police decided to have a couple of the Capricas fitted for it, and we were just on our way for a post refit shakedown when we got the Cylons calling"

"Gods… What did you do after that?"

"After we linked up with Achilles and Furlong, we decided to head here and stay quiet for a while. We were on final approach twelve hours out when we got the news that everything was gone. Adama of the Galactica has command of the Fleet now, but I don't know what he has left. I sent a Raptor there to make contact but they jumped right back with heavy damage"

"Galactica fired on them?"

"Cylons made it to Ragnor"

"I see" said Turndike. "Sounds like you had a lucky escape. What are your intentions now?"

"We had thought of making a run for it out of the system. Colonies are wasted for a long time, so we thought about setting up on a planet out of the way. After meeting up with you, Captain, I'd like to join and sign on with you"

"What about the other two ships?"

"Well the other Frigate commander is junior to me and the civvies want to stay any place with friendly guns" Manning drained the last of his glass. "With your permission, Sir, I'd like to transfer some of the wounded from our ships to the Exeter. We've only a medic aboard the Frigates and we've got seriously wounded"

"I'll have shuttles sent over to collect them" Turndike said. "What are you combat abilities?"

"One medium cannon, twelve point defence and a pair of small missile tubes topside midships. Missiles are not designed to be reloaded, though, so once we fire them we're out until we can get people EVA and manually put missiles in the tubes. The Furlong has a solitary small cannon designed to break up asteroids"

"Asteroids?"

"It spends a lot of its time around the asteroids colonies and mines, so it made sense to fit it with something to blast rocks away. She could fire it directly against your hull and you'd never notice"

"Fighters?"

"Six Viper Mk Vs, two Raptors and a Shuttle on us and Achilles – Furlong has Shuttles only. We managed to salvage a small refuelling bird that's sat in the Furlong's hanger bay for repairs to the computer"

"How many people on that?"

"None"

"What about your little band of merry travellers?"

"Five hundred in total" Manning replied and Turndike closed his eyes and groaned.

"We've got just over two thousand people here. We had more, of course, but we lost people in attacks and from injuries sustained during that…"

"Captain, Bridge"

"Captain"

"Captain, we're picking up a number of signals from disabled colonial vessels" Gates said over the phone. "A lot of them are old signals, but some them are somewhat close to us. I'd like to go and get as many of them off the ships"

"We've got to think of ourselves first" Turndike said, but then he sighed in frustration. "Get the locations of those closest to us and dispatch a Raptor and some Shuttles and a team in each to the vessel clusters. Tell the moment they see any Cylon assets, they are to make a Jump back here – even if they leave people behind"

"Captain… We could send an engineering team to make an assessment on the ships. We could do with whatever we can find – even if it just relives the crowds here"

"Fine – but the orders stand. Have the ship come to Condition Two and a set of Vipers in the tubes. Pilots can leave their hoods open and helmets off until they launch"

"Aye, Captain. Sir, Raptor 398 just jumped back. Its…" Gates stopped to hear a report and was soon back. "Captain, they've found an entire Battlestar holding off the Cylons"

"Who?"

"398 reports an ID of Restormal. She's just out of the yards on her training and working up flights"

"We either go and get the civilians, or we can go and get the Battlestar" Turndike said.

"Perhaps we could do both" said Manning. "Send your teams over to my two Frigates, we'll jump to the civvies and see what we can do for them. Whilst we're doing that, you can go and get the Battlestar. We could certainly use the firepower to protect us"

"That would involve leaving you with little fighter protection" Turndike said.

"That is a risk I am willing to make" Manning said grimly.

"All right. Gates? I want you to assemble teams in four shuttles and get them over to the two Police Frigates. After that, bring the ship to notice for an FTL jump to the location of the Battlestar. Order the Furlong to jump with the rescue party as well… They might be able to do something with all of that electronics gear they have"

"Aye, Captain"

"I'll best take my leave" Manning said. "Best of luck"

"Luck" said Turndike as he headed for the hatch, "Has nothing at all to do with it"