Misfits: Chapter One
Goath, Aerilon. Good Morning, Aerilon
The camera man counted down the seconds until they were live on the air. The woman put on her TV smile as the countdown reached zero. "Good morning, Aerilon. I'm Ellie Bordeaux and welcome to this morning's show. We've got some special guests here today for you as this month is turning out to be a very extraordinary one. Wouldn't you say, Mark?"
Her co-host, Mark Cannan, smiled while looking to the camera. "This month has been an interesting one indeed, Ellie. The two Battlestars Arcadia and Galactica are being decommissioned, sending the two oldest ships in the active Fleet out of the service. With us here in the studio is retired Commander Cassandra Greene, the first Executive Officer of the Battlestar Arcadia during the Cylon War, and later its commanding officer during the years following the war. It's an honor to have you here, Commander Greene. I'd just like to start by saying thank you for your long years of service and dedication to us all."
"It's a pleasure to be here." Commander Greene said, nodding to the camera.
"Commander, could you tell us a little bit about these two aging ships?" Ellie asked.
"I'd be more than happy to, Ellie. The Battlestar Arcadia, one of the largest and most powerful ships of her time, saw action during the Cylon War, being present for many key victories on the Colonial side including both Battles of Tuaron, the Battle of the Ereobos Asteroid Belt, and of course,the Battle of Hestia where she was credited with four ship to ship kills. The ship was cited with more than a dozen military honors, and by the end of the war her crew claimed to have the most ace pilots of any other ship throughout the war. Also, I may add, it was on the Battlestar Arcadia that the Cimtar Peace Accords were held, bringing the Colonials and Cylons to the Armistice that ended the war, showing that the Arcadia is not only capable of waging war, but also of bringing peace to the Colonies."
"It truly is a magnificent ship with a rich history." Ellie remarked to the Commander.
Mark nodded in agreement. "I'd say so. Commander, could you tell us about the Battlestar Galactica?"
"Of course! The Battlestar Galactica, as most people know, was dubbed the Hero of Caprica during the Cylon War. She proved to be a very resilient ship as she engaged in multiple operations across the Colonies. The Galactica continued to fight the Cylons even up until the last day of the war, receiving the news that the Armistice had been signed in the middle of her last combat operation."
"We've all been hearing about what's to happen to these two ships once they're retired and decommissioned, but why don't you refresh our memories one more time, Ellie?"
"Sure! The old warhorse Galactica will be retired and made into a living museum ship that will follow her history throughout the entire Cylon War. Secretary of Education Laura Roslin will be making an address to the Colonies from the ship along with her last commanding officer, Commander William Adama. You can catch those both live here later tonight. As for the Arcadia, she is to be sent to the reserve fleet where military officials are saying that it will become a training vessel for the future generations of Colonial officers. Her last commanding officer, Admiral Rick Tyros, is sending her out with a bang, too, Mark. The Admiral is hosting one of the largest military banquets that the Colonial Flee has seen in a very long time in honor of the great Battlestar's long and distinguished service to the Colonies. Anyone who's anyone in the political spotlight should be in attendance tonight– chief among them all is President Richard Adar, who will be making an address to the current and past crew members of the aging Battlestar."
"Should be a spectacular sight to see." Mark said.
Nodding in agreement, Ellie commented."Oh, it should be quiet impressive."
"If I'm not mistaken, you're set to be at the banquet are you not?" Mark asked with a smile.
"Yes, I am." Ellie laughed.
"Well, it should be a good night, then! I know all of us here will be jealous of you as we watch the address from studio. Anyway, we're going to go to break now, but when we get back we'll be talking to Doctor Giaus Baltar, the lead defense system developer for the Colonial Fleet and an advocate for the continuation of study into the field of artificial intelligence."
Battlestar Arcadia, Recreation Center
"Ten says you miss." Lieutenant Garrett Westbrook placed ten cubits on a small table that he sat at. Across from him, Lieutenant Lee Hawley rolled the pyramid ball in his hands, pondering the bet and looking around the recreation center. A pair of pilots sparring on the boxing mats, beating away on one another as they trained their close quarter combat. Beyond them was a row of ten treadmills, but only one was being used at the moment. One oversized deck hand grunted loudly as he benched pressed more than Lee could even imagine moving. The man's spotter cheered him on, and Lee couldn't help but keep his eyes on the man as he hefted the huge load again and again. "Are you going to take the bet or not?" Garrett asked once again impatiently.
"Yeah, I'll take the frakking bet." Lee stood and moved to the edge of the room, gripping the pyramid ball once again. Taking a deep breath and cocking back his arm, he launched the small ball at the small goal on the far side of the room. The ball smashed against the side and ricocheted off across the room toward the boxing mat. The ball struck one of the two sparring pilots, who he recognized from the little yelp he let out as Ensign Miles Thompson. The junior pilot cursed as the ball knocked him off balance, allowing the other fighter to catch him square in the jaw.
"What the frak was that?" he yelled, picking himself up off the floor. Garrett laughed loudly behind him at the Ensign's misfortunes. "Frak off, Jackle."
"Next time keep your hands up." Garrett mockingly put his hands up as if to deflect a punch, and Thompson pulled off his sparring gloves, throwing them to the ground angrily. "Looks like Baby has a little bit of a temper today, doesn't he, Lucky."
"You know I hate that Gods damn name, so don't frakking use it. I've requested to be called Gambit," Thompson said angrily.
"Frak that, when you get rid of that baby fat around your face maybe we'll start calling you Gambit."
"I don't have baby fat!" The pilot squeaked, and the two Lieutenants busted out laughing. Even his sparring partner and closest friend, Ensign Carl Halbert, started laughing. The kid really had no chance when he came to the Arcadia. His little chubby cheeks were the first thing that the older pilots noticed when they thought about giving him a call sign. He hated it but couldn't shake it no matter what he did. "You're all assholes, you know that?"
"You're just now figuring this out, Baby? We're the Misfits, apparently we're all assholes and rejects." Hawley said, retrieving the pyramid ball from the other side of the room. It was true; the Arcadia housed several squadrons of Vipers, one of which was the 213th "Misfits" Viper Squadron. The Misfits were a group of pilots who had seen court martials and faced expulsion from the military, but were good enough at what they did to be kept around. As for Lee, he might have accidentally struck a superior officer while only slightly intoxicated the day before shore leave. During the court martial hearing, he was a breath away from being dishonorably discharged, but his commanding officer had spoken on his behalf that he could still be an asset to the Viper Corps. The hearing ended with a demotion and a reassignment to the Misfits. Not the worst, but certainly not ideal.
Baby threw his gloves to the ground and stormed out of the rec room with Halbert scrambling to catch up with him. "Frakking nuggets," Hawley remarked as the two junior pilots left. Jackal grinned wildly as the two left, and Lucky only pushed him away. "I'm not paying you."
Garrett frowned and slugged him hard in the shoulder, backing up playfully with his fists raised. "You cheap bastard."
Hawley took the hit and slapped at Westbrook's head, but missed, putting his own hands up to defend. "I know I'm cheap. Hell, I'm in the military. I don't have any frakking money." The two men laughed as they sparred together.
Garrett took another swing, but it was slow and lazy due to the fake fight's nature, and he was able to easily duck under it. "You would if you'd stop sending it all home to your woman."
"Frak off," he said and grinned as the other pilot dropped his guard for a moment, and he hit him hard in the chest.
Garrett sucked in hard and took the hit like it was nothing. He was easily twice Hawley's size and twice as strong too, so the hit was nothing. "I'm just saying, you can give all your money to your girl back home, but you can't spare a little for your brother right here?"
Jackal dove for his feet to go for a take down, and Lee tried to sidestep away from the oncoming danger, but it was too late. He grabbed his legs and threw him down onto the padded mats with a massive thump. Lee sucked in hard as the wind was knocked from him from the landing. He frantically tried to wrap his legs around the larger pilot to protect himself, but Garrett, was far too strong for Lee, broke his advantage and placed him into an arm bar with relative ease. Lee cursed under his breath as Garrett raised his hips and increased pressure on his arm causing pain to shoot through his body. That was it. He quickly tapped out, and Garrett released him.
Panting, the two men stood up, and the Jackal had a wide grin on his face. "Gods, I hate you sometimes, Jack," he said, pushing him slightly away.
Still grinning, he outstretched his hand to take the money. "Nah, you love me all the time."
Lee slapped the cubits down into his outstretched hand and made for the doorway. "Come on, the one who signs the paychecks touches down in about two hours. Can't be looking shabby for him."
"I don't know what you're talking about– I always look good."
"I really don't know why I keep a narcissistic asshole like you around."
"It's because of my charm and good looks."
"Fair enough. Now, get your self-loving ass to the quarters." Hawley more or less kicked his wingman in the rear end to push him through the door. He knew it was going to be a long day, but he really had no idea what was coming.
Battlestar Arcadia, Port Side Hanger Deck 1
"All hands prepare for the arrival of Colonial One." The sound from the speakers blared across the hangar deck.
"Let's go people! Form up!" Commander Kendra Turner yelled as the stragglers moved into the ranks.
Lee looked down the long line of officers and crewmen who awaited the arrival of the President. Galactica might be going into retirement as well, but her commander certainly didn't have enough pull with the higher-ups to get anyone of a real name aboard. She wasn't actually being retired, rather being sent into the reserve fleet to become a training vessel for the future generations of pilots and crewmen, but she would no longer be seeing anymore combat. There had been rumors that the Picon Military Institute planned to move almost all of their cadets to the Arcadia once she was refitted and therefore meld the school and ship into one. He couldn't really see the massive ship as a school, but if that's what the Admiralty wanted then that's what would happen.
The Lieutenant stepped into the ranks behind the Executive Officer of the ship. "Has anyone ever told you that you're such a smooth talker, Commander?"
"Shut it, Hawley." She growled without looking behind her.
The Misfits laughed as she called the reception to attention while Colonial One's ramp lowered from the underside of the ship. A pair of marines in full dress uniform stood at either side of the lowered ramp. President Richard Adar stepped down from the ramp first,and the pair of marines saluted smartly, only to have the politician throw up a salute in a non-military fashion as he usually did. Behind him, the first family emerged and followed the president. Admiral Rick Tyros stepped out of the formation and saluted him. The two exchanged a few words, laughed and then made their way toward the exit of the hanger.
The crew that had been assembled stood baffled by what had transpired. Most were expecting a few words from the President or even a speech, but there was nothing. Just their Commander-in-Chief and the Admiral leaving together. Lee glanced over to his two wingmen. "Well, that's not what I was expecting."
Garrett laughed loudly enough to draw few looks his way. "No kidding, so much for a presidential visit." Another glance back from Commander Turner quieted down the man. She was a harsh XO, but she had sort of a soft spot for the Misfits, and they all knew it. She might ride them, harass them, and give them every frakked up boring assignment she could, but at the end of the day, it was the Misfits that Commander Turner sought out in the recreation room.
The rest of the president's entourage began exiting the ship, and Lee craned his neck to look over the front rank of the crew. Now, a pair of large passenger transports were being towed down from the flight deck to the hanger. The crew, dressed in their gray dress uniforms, was dismissed as the president was escorted off of the deck, but most of them stuck around for the passenger transports. All officers and senior NCOs had been allowed the opportunity to bring aboard one date for the ball that the Admiral was putting on, and each one that had taken the opportunity was now eagerly awaiting their arrival.
One by one, each of the dates filed through the last bit of security that they were required to go through and sent onto their crewman. Hawley waited anxiously for his fiancé as he stood next to Garrett. Finally, he saw her as she passed by the pair of marines at the security. The curls in her dark brown hair bounced slightly as she looked up to him with her soft blue eyes. She smiled when their eyes connected and they nearly ran to meet one another. They embraced, and he pulled her in close as they hugged. "I missed you, babe," he said into her ear in almost a whisper.
His fiancé, Ellie Bordeaux, smiled as she looked up at him. "I missed you, too. I hate it when you're deployed, you know that."
"I know, but it's almost over." She moved in and squeezed him again as if they this was the last time that they would see one another.
They held their embrace for a moment longer before Garrett cleared his throat next to them. "I hope I'm interrupting something here," he said with a wry grin on his face, and Ellie walked over to the man and hugged him as well.
"You always are, Garrett." She stepped away from him and turned to the woman who had followed Ellie off of the freighter. "And may I introduce you to your date, Yasmina Melendez."
The other woman, a slender brown-skinned woman with dark eyes and hair smiled as she stepped forward.
Garrett grinned as he made a small bow to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yasmina."
Ellie slapped him hard on the shoulder, making him jump. "And you treat her right, Garrett, or you'll have to deal with me."
Garrett stared at her for a moment before looking over to Lee.
He shook his head and laughed. "Don't look at me. You heard the woman."
Garrett looked back to Ellie and smiled. "Don't worry. I always treat the ladies right."
"That's what they all say," she said in a mock serious tone. "But I'll be watching you."
Yasmina put her hand on Ellie's shoulder and brushed past her. "Don't worry, Ell, I can handle him myself." She had a devilish smile that made Garrett grin as she took his hand and led him away.
"Tonight should be interesting," Lee said as he took his fiancé by the arm and led her away from the crowds. "It should be interesting indeed."
Battlestar Arcadia, Starboard Hanger Deck 1
Speeches, toasts, recognitions and then more toasts. It was a long service, but all the boring parts were finally over and they could get to the decent part of the night. The meal they'd been served was very eloquent and quite good, and the speaker hadn't been half bad. President Adar even made the speech that they were expecting him to make upon his arrival, so most of the officers and crew weren't grumbling too much. It was short, but it was the fact that he even made a speech that made it special.
Now, most of the rank and anyone who was important were glad-handing one another, wishing each other luck on their next assignment or giving congratulations on a promotion. The junior officers and enlisted were left to themselves for the most part. Many began taking to the dance floor as the soft, slow music started to play. Lee stood up from his seat and offered his fiancé his hand. "Shall we?"
She smiled softly and took his hand while he led her to the floor.
Lee took her by the hips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck while they swayed to the music. More people took to the floor and soon, much of the large hanger deck was filled with dancing couples.
"You look gorgeous tonight, Lee said.
A small smile flashed across her face, and she cocked her head to the side a bit. "Flatterer."
The Lieutenant returned the smile and moved in for a kiss. "I might be, but it still doesn't change the fact."
She kissed him back softly.
The two turned in silence for a moment. "How's she?" He finally asked her, and she pulled away slightly to look him in the eyes. She really was beautiful, he thought to himself, her dark auburn hair and deep blue eyes stopped the man's heart each time he saw her.
"She's good." Ellie smiled at the thought of her daughter. "She's getting to be a little wild, though. I can't imagine where she gets it," she said playfully and then moved in closer to the man, placing her head on his shoulder as they danced.
Hawley smiled to himself. "Couldn't be me, you know I'm far too tame for that."
"Oh, yeah?" She giggled a little, and as she did so he pulled her in a little tighter. He rarely got to see her unless he was on leave, and he wanted to savor each moment here. "Says the crazy fighter jock." She mocked him and then moved on before he could come back at her. "She's with my sister right now down on Aerilon. They should be leaving for Picon in the morning."
Sighing deeply, he somewhat wished he hadn't asked about his daughter. In truth, he'd only been able to see his daughter once since the day she was born almost a year ago, and that was nearly seven months back. He missed her far too much and speaking about her only made him miss her more, but seeing her mother and his fiancé made it a little better. "I miss her," he said quietly.
Again, Ellie pulled back and looked at him. "I know you do, and I wish I could have brought her to see you."
"Only seventeen more months," he said in a half-laugh half-serious tone. That was when his contract was up, and he had no intentions of renewing it. His career was more or less stalled since the court martial and he knew that the Navy was a dead end. He'd done his service and he was ready to get out.
She smiled at him. "And then you'll come home to me?"
The klaxon screeched. The sound echoed throughout the deck, and everyone freeze in their tracks. Ellie covered her ears at the noise and looked to him, "What is that?" she asked.
"Action stations, action stations! All hands set condition one throughout the ship! This is not a drill! I say again action stations, action stations! All hands set condition one throughout the ship! This is not a drill!" Hawley pushed away from his fiancé and looked around at the other stunned officers and NCOs. Slowly, some began moving, but most just clung closely to their significant others as if to try and protect them. "Launch all alert Vipers! I say again launch all alert Vipers!"
That was his cue. He might hate it, but if there was something big enough going on to scramble the Arcadia's Vipers, then he had to be there. "I've got to go! Stay here!" He told Ellie, kissed her and turned for the exit of the hangar. Most of the higher rank still milled about as the pilots and deck gang pushed to make it out of the hangar.
The pilot took off down the corridors to the clear port flight deck. Dozens of pilots and crewmen filled the halls, pushing and shoving to make it to their action stations. Once he was on the flight deck, he made his way over to the Chief of the Deck. "Chief what the frak is happening?"
The man shook his head, "No one knows, sir, but the alert Vipers are already away. I don't have any spare Vipers either. The Misfits are grounded for now."
"Grounded?" Captain Sara Hart came up behind him.
It took him more than a second to recognize his squadron leader in the long dress gown that she had worn for the ball. She'd already pulled her heels off and was working on the earrings as they spoke.
"Chief where the frak are all the Vipers?"
He grunted loudly at the officers. "In storage in Starboard 2, there's no way for me to get to them now." The Chief turned and began to walk away from the Misfits, yelling to some deck goons who were loading a Viper.
The Captain grabbed his arm before he could get too far away and spun him around. Even Lee cringed a little at the look she shot him. "Gods damn it, Chief, there has to be at least some Vipers!" The two held their staring contest for a few more seconds.
"There isn't, sir, unless you want to fly those old training MK VIs." The Chief pointed to a group of covered Vipers near the end of the deck. Both Lee and Garrett laughed at that. There was no way they'd fly training ships.
The Captain let the Chief's arm go with a little push. "Fuel and arm them now, Chief–I want them ready to fly." –Or maybe not. Both pilots took a step forward toward their squadron leader, but she was already on her way to the pilot lockers for flight suits. They'd be horribly outclassed flying training Vipers in a dog fight.
She pulled open one of the lockers and instantly slipped out of her dress. Both stopped for a second before Garrett finally stepped forward. "You've got to be frakking with us, Captain. Training MK VIs?"
She pulled her underclothes on and started with the flight suit. "Do I look like I am? Get suited up."
Reluctantly the two men began stripping their dress uniforms off and replacing them with their flight suits.
"Gods damn it," Garrett said as the two finished suiting up. "I knew we should have taken the leave."
"Yeah, we royally frakked up." Lee grabbed his gloves and helmet before making for their training Vipers. "I could be sitting on a beautiful beach on Aerilon right now, but no. We're under attack or some shit like that."
"Just another day in the frakking Navy." Ensign Lucas "Villain" Metz, a fellow Misfit, called out as he jumped into his Viper.
Amen to that.
"Looks like the Misfits are rolling in the trainers today," Ensign Thompson yelled as he boarded his new MK VII.
Garrett dropped his head before grabbing a hold of the MK VI's ladder. "This is frakking humiliating."
"No shit, just shut up and stick with me." Lee climbed up the ladder and dropped down into the Viper's cockpit. He'd logged hundreds of hours in these trainers but hated getting back into it. It didn't have the same feel as the MK VII. Despite being an advanced interceptor, it was still sluggish and not optimized for engagements other than training exercises. He'd have a hell of a time if he got into a fight. "Has any word come down on why they're scrambling us?"
"Couldn't just be a shipping accident. They wouldn't scramble us for that. You think it's pirates?"
"They'd be getting ballsy if they'd come in this close to the Colonies."
"We'll know soon enough."
As if on cue, the PA sounded throughout the deck, making the crew freeze. "All hands enemy fighters are four minutes out. Cylon contacts confirmed."
Lee's heart skipped a beat. Cylons?
"What! Cylons? They're frakking with us man. I know they are," Garrett yelled.
"I don't think so." Lee's Viper was shoved into the tube as follow on reports were brought up. The entire battle-group was being scrambled now. Four Mercury-Class Battlestars and their entire Viper complement. This ought to be a new sight.
"This is the Battlestar Rollins–we're preparing to engage now. We're counting no more than sixty fighters standby."
It was the fleetcomm wireless that played now. The Rollins was fresh off the line with two hundred Vipers that would no doubt be on the line ready to engage. The one thing that puzzled him was the number of Cylon fighters. Sixty Raiders on a full battle-group? It was virtual suicide.
"All squadrons, you are weapons free. I repeat weapons free." The wireless cut off from the Rollin's CAG. It was eerily quiet for the next few moments, as if the entire battle-group awaited the next movements of the Cylons.
The communications exploded with chatter. "What the frak! They're drifting!"
"Rollins! Engage those Raiders! Rollins?"
The calls over the wireless were so frantic that Lee could no longer decipher what was happening outside the tubes. The launch clock still put him at forty-five seconds until he and his wing were out. The seconds ticked away like minutes, each one taking longer than the last.
"First line is down– I repeat first line is down! This is the Battlestar Arrow we're engaging now."
"Did you hear that? They took out the frakking Rollins, man." Garrett became hysterical, which was beyond the worst mindset you could have going into combat. Just get me out there. Just let me take a shot at them. No more waiting, just let me see what's happening for myself. Finally, the launch clock hit zero. It was time for the Misfits to get out there.
The Vipers blasted out of the tubes into a scene of utter chaos. "Battlestars Arrow, Rollins and Hyperion are all down! I repeat, all Battlestars are down!" The Arcadia, dwarfing the three other Battlestars present, loomed in the rear of the formation, watching the utter massacre of her entire battle-group. Raiders swarmed the Vipers who weren't even returning fire. The Battlestars took hails of missiles to their center mass, blowing away the battleplates and ripping flightpods apart. The sixty Raiders that had been in the first wave had done immeasurable amounts of damage even before their reinforcements had arrived in the form of two of their capital ships. The Battlestar Rollins listed heavily to her port side before exploding in a massive ball of fire and shrapnel. Raiders blew past the remaining wreckage and tore into the defenseless Vipers that remained.
"We got to do something," Lee mumbled to himself, pressing forward on the stick, breaking from the Misfit's formation. He pushed ahead toward the torrent of death and fire that was before him. The Arcadia's Vipers set to engage the Raiders, and Hawley could figure what most were thinking right about. He was right there with them, too. How do I know I'm not just going to die out here without even putting up a fight?
He watched as the Arrow, shut down and not responding, surged uncontrollably headlong into the combat. The ship, without power to stop her forward momentum, barreled through the wreckage of the Rollins, tearing her starboard flightpod from her main body and continued on toward the Cylon ships. The Baseships, sensing the danger the uncontrolled Battlestar posed, shifted their fire from the Hyperion and Arcadia to the Arrow. The missiles struck the undefended ship, but didn't slow her. When she was nearly a kilometer away, the vessel exploded into dozens of smaller pieces. The remnants of the ship stuck the pair of Baseships, damaging them both, one so much so that it lost on of its "arms."
The wireless crackled. "At least those mother frakkers won't get out of here without a scratch," Ensign Wesley "Wacko" Alder called out over the squadcomm.
The Misfits moved forward now toward the Cylons, preparing to engage. The Raiders pushed onward into the Arcadia's Viper line, who was shut down moments before engagement. Hawley cursed under his breath. No they weren't lucky enough to escape their fate. The Arcadia, however, unleashed a harrowing salvo of AAA fire onto the Raiders. The flak guns tore apart the first ranks of the Cylon fighters, keeping them momentarily off of the Vipers.
The Misfits, in the rear of the formation, had yet to make contact. "We're still operational," Hawley said as he touched the controls of the outdated fighter to make sure he wasn't wrong. The ship continued to respond to each of his commands.
Lucky gripped the flight stick with his gloved hands and locked on to the oncoming Raiders. "This is Lucky, engaging!" he called out to the rest of the Misfits.
Wacko and Jackal were only a second behind him to his port and starboard as the trio of Vipers pushed forward. The Raiders, concentrating on the dead Vipers, didn't even see them coming. The outdated MK VI Vipers tore into the unsuspecting Raiders, quickly taking out several before the enemy fighters could counter their fire. The Raiders seemed sluggish to react to the return fire, as if they weren't expecting to be shot back at. The Arcadia, who was still operation despite her battle-group not responding, aligned her main battery with the first Baseship that labored to maneuver around the destroyed Arrow.
Lucky pulled his Viper around some debris to engage a pair of Raiders. The enemy fighters drifted as they fired their cannons into a grouping of downed Vipers. Hawley pulled the trigger and grinned as the Raiders disappeared into two pairs of scrap metal.
The Arcadia's main guns finally fired, and the massive rounds tore through the open space, leaving streaks behind them as they went. The first pair connected with the lead Baseship, gutting its center spire before splitting the ship in half.
Lucky, Wacko, and Jackal all reformed into a triangle formation, with Lucky at the head again. The Raiders refocused their efforts on the Arcadia, hammering her batteries and flight pods with missiles. The Arcadia, with the Raiders now hitting her, had to redirect her firepower to defend herself.
"Misfits, lets clear the Arcadia's backside so she can finish this fight," Captain Hart ordered over the squadcomm to her fourteen remaining pilots.
"Roger that, Hart. Lucky, committing." Lucky pushed his Viper ahead and engaged the Raiders around the Battlestar. It was common military logic to run when outnumbered more than two to one, never mind twenty to one, but that wouldn't stop the Misfits from attacking anyway. Lucky grunted from the G-forces that hit his body as he engaged again. They were going to go down fighting, and they were going to take as many of the metal toaster with them as they could.
Battlestar Arcadia, Combat Information Center
Admiral Rick Tyros let out a small sigh of relief when his main battery tore the first Baseship in half. He'd half expected his weapons to be offline just like the other Battlestars in his group, but they had fired and therefore delayed their destruction by just a bit longer. The ship shook around him as the Raiders consentrated their fire from his doomed Vipers to the Battlestar. It would take much longer, but he had no doubt that the Raiders would eventually destroy him without a Viper escort.
It didn't make any sense to him. Just before engagement, all of his ships had lost power and been defenseless against the onslaught of Cylons. Now, even when his ship had survived while the others hadn't, he seemed doomed to their fate just because his fighter complement couldn't shoot back. It was some sort of sick joke that the Gods were playing on him. "Commander Turner!" he called out to his Executive Officer who still tried to work through their systems malfunctions. "Where is my FTL?" The darker woman shook her head, scraped her fingers through her dark hair as she looked down at an officer's console.
"They're gone, sir. Whatever the Cylons are doing to the others hasn't had the full effect on us yet. Some of our systems are down, but for the most part we're still operational." The woman looked up to him, strode across to the command table and began directing his gun turrets to engage different Cylon threats. At least they wouldn't be going down without a fight.
"Roger that, Hart. Lucky, committing." The wireless cracked with the sounds of the pilots that were still in the fight. The voices froze the CIC as they all at once looked to the DRADIS console to confirm what they were hearing. There was far too much wreckage and powered down Vipers for the DRADIS to sort through to get a fix on the Vipers that were still operational. If they couldn't see their own pilots then there was no way that the Cylons would be able to get a fix on them. Maybe they weren't finished. Tyros grabbed the wireless and ordered the communications officer to redirect him to the Misfits. "Misfits, this is Admiral Tyros. Continue to engage the Cylon forces. We're going to move straight out of the engagement zone so that we can get a clear shot on that second Baseship. Buy us a little time and we might be able to drive the Cylons back for a moment."
The ship still shook from the hits that the Raiders scored, but they seemed to slack as the Misfits continued to engage. "It just had to be the Misfits, didn't it?" Turner said with a half-smile.
"Get us around this wreckage, Lieutenant. Tactical! Spin up the capacitors for another salvo and get me a firing solution on the second Baseship," Tyros called out the orders to his crew. "You have something against the Misfits?"
Turner looked away from her console to the Admiral. "I just feel sorry for them, sir." The Admiral's face scrunched up as it always does when he was confused. "The Cylons that is." With a full smile this time, she let out a mocking laugh. "They're the ones stuck out there with fourteen pissed off Misfits bent on revenge. They won't stand a chance."
Lieutenant Lee Hawley, In combat over Aerilon
"Come on, Wacko! Push it! We've got four on our six. Dip down under the Hyperion's starboard flight pod, and that should bring us across Jackal and Villain." Lucky and Wacko pulled their Vipers down and around the out of commission Hyperion. Dead and dying Vipers drifted aimlessly about, colliding with one another, making navigating the area a total nightmare. One of the pursuing Raiders dodged around a drifting Viper, but placed itself directly into the path of another. It frantically tried to reverse its course, but slammed into the Viper destroying both.
Lucky jammed down hard on his rudder and shot through the gaps in the Valkyrie-Class Battlestar's flight pod. Wacko followed him closely as they shot the gap, the Raiders close on their tails. He pulled up on his flight stick to where he was flying parallel to the Hyperion's underside. Those two better be ready. Hawley thought as he reached the bow of the Battlestar and ripped back hard on the stick to send his Viper into a gut wrenching ninety-degree upward turn. The G-forces made his gut clench tight, but he held the course. Only a little bit longer.
The Raiders continued their pursuit, firing the whole time they went. "Wacko break to port on my mark!" The DRADIS was damn near useless, so they would just have to eyeball this one. In the distance, he saw a pair of Vipers barreling toward them at high speeds. Trailing them was a pair of Raiders. "Jackal,I hope you're feeling lucky 'cause we're going to bring it in close to pull this off."
"I'm always feeling lucky, Lucky." Garrett called over the wireless. "I see you got a couple more stragglers than we do. How about a little mop up after we're done here?"
"That was the plan–just break when I say so." The four Vipers pushed themselves harder to increase their speeds. He couldn't tell the range they were at, but his fellow squad mates were closing faster and faster. Give them five more seconds. He counted off the time in his head as the approaching Vipers became bigger and bigger through his forward viewport. Five, four, three, two… "Now! He yelled as the Vipers were no more than fifty meters from each other. At the high speeds, the four ships broke to port and starboard to avoid collisions. The Vipers passed no more than a meter from each other as they blew by.
The rear facing mirrors on the Viper showed the Raiders smash right into one another. Three of the Raiders twisted and rolled away from the oncoming death, but four slammed right into one another. The Misfits whooped and hollered over the wireless as the machines died. "Time for some clean up!" Wacko cried. The three remaining Raiders were now isolated and unable to lend support to one another. It was going to be too easy now. "Wacko, on me"
The Vipers quickly picked off the remaining Raiders and then leveled off to make another run on the Raiders that harassed the Arcadia. "This is the Arcadia. We're engaging all Vipers clear the firing solution."
The massive Battlestar had pushed through the wreckage and was in the clear to fire on the Baseship. The huge guns shuttered, and the rounds hit directly on the Baseship's center section, crumpling the armor on the enemy ship.
Before they could celebrate the death of another enemy ship, two more Baseships jumped into the fray. "Frak!" Villain yelled out over his wireless as the Baseships deployed dozens more Raiders to the fight. "We're frakked! We can't even hold off these bastards!"
The Arcadia opened up with her AAA batteries to defend herself, but the Raiders would break through eventually. Normally, the Arcadia wouldn't have a problem taking on two ships of that size, but without the Vipers, she was defenseless against the Raiders who could eventually tear her apart.
"I guess this is it," Lucky said over his wireless. "Nothing left to do now but attack."
"Give them hell before we die, right?" Wacko's voice was shaky, but determined. They were ready to die.
"Exactly. Arcadia, Lucky. We're engaging. Gods speed, Arcadia." The four Vipers pushed their throttles and charged headlong into their new enemies. Lucky's entire body shook as he flew to his death. Hundreds of Raiders on four Vipers. If anyone survived that whole mess, then they'd have one hell of a story to tell.
The Raiders broke and headed their way. Dozens of the mechanized fighters prepared to engage and kill them all, hopefully not before they took a few of them down with them. Lucky squeezed the trigger and fired a hail of bullets their way, but they never made contact. Hundreds of missiles poured over their heads and struck the Raiders, checking their advance. A moment later, dozens of massive rounds streaked past the destroyed fighters and tore into the Baseships. The enemy ships were too focused on the Arcadia to turn their fire away now. The Arcadia, with the weight of the Raiders now being lifted, turned her entire might upon the Cylon ships. The four Vipers, still heading into the fray, slowed their advance and checked their DRADIS. Behind them, three ships of the Aerilon Third Fleet surged ahead into the fray.
"Arcadia, this is the Battlestar Sovereign. I've got the Strikestars Bastion and Manticore with me here. Sorry we're late, sir, hope you don't mind if we clear some of these toasters away!"
"Better late than never, Sovereign. Take as many as you'd like– there're plenty to go around."
The two Strikestars pushed ahead and engaged the Raiders with their overwhelming amounts missile and gun batteries while the Sovereign, a Courageous-Class Battlestar opened up on the Baseships. The Sovereign, with her four heavy "wing mounted" rail guns, tore gaping holes into the enemy ships who succumbed to the overwhelming firepower of the Battlestars.
As soon as it had started, it was over. The Arcadia, while still damaged, was still alive and so were they.
Ten minutes later, the Misfits were back on the deck. As Hawley was towed down to the elevators, he could see the Raptors bringing in more and more downed Vipers as they frantically tried to save as many as they could. The freighters that had been used to bring in the guests to the Arcadia were now being used to pull as many people off of the Hyperion, the only other Battlestar to survive the fight, before they ran out of air.
Hawley slid down the ladder the deck crews had pushed up for him. The deck was a scene of chaos as the wounded were being brought aboard. Deck crews shouted to one another as they tried to refuel the Raptors as quickly as they could to send them back out. Makeshift triages were set up across the massive deck to accommodate the wounded.
Hawley moved through the deck, stopping only to help where he could. One man laid on a stretcher, his chest split open from a piece of shrapnel. His body shook violently as he reached up to touch Lucky. There was nothing he could do but comfort the man as he died. It didn't take long, and he said nothing while it happened, but to the dying man, it seemed like it was just enough to have someone there with him. Hawley pushed away and moved through the crowd to find the Chief. He directed the flow of dead and wounded to different sides of the deck.
"Chief!" he called out and the Senior enlisted man looked to him. "Chief, we've got to get these Vipers back out there. They're just taking up space right now."
"Sorry, Lieutenant, but they're still dead in the water, and we have no frakking idea why."
"Then figure out why, Chief!"
The Chief stopped as he officer yelled at him. "What do you want me to do, sir? Work some of my magic to make them functional?"
"If that's what it takes, Chief. The Cylons aren't just going to run away and leave us alone because we beat them once. We've got to get the fighters operational again so this–" he pointed out to the sea of wounded and dead. "–doesn't happen again."
The Chief couldn't argue with that logic and finally gave in. "I can't spare many of my crewmen, but I'll put a team on it. Once they figure it out, I'll let you Viper jocks know. In the meantime, we'll get those trainers rearmed and loaded. We should be able to field another squadron of those. Won't be much, but it's better than nothing."
Hawley thanked the Chief and began making his way down the deck as he waited on the knuckle draggers to finish their job. He watched as a Raptor was towed onto the deck, one bearing the recognitions of the Rollins. He quickly jogged up to the hatch; the Lieutenant stood by as several stretchers were brought off of the Raptor, all crewmen from the Rollins.
The last person off he recognized as Ensign Haley Atlas, the operations officer of the ship. Her body was badly burnt and her arm twisted in an unnatural position. "Haley…" he started to say as he reached out to her.
She reached up and touched his hand. "They're dead, Lee. They're all dead…" She began to cry softly, out of pain or of sadness, he didn't know.
A wave of emotions flew over Hawley. He stepped back and allowed the corpsmen to take the stretcher away. Running his hand through the short stubble of his brown hair, he surveyed the incoming Raptors, filled with the Rollin's crew, most in the same condition as Ensign Knowles. They were the lucky ones though. The Arrow had been lost with all hands. Not a single survivor had been picked up thus far.
The loud speakers blared to life, almost stopping the chaos that filled the hangar deck. "All hands, this is the Admiral speaking. This was indeed a victory here, but it came at a high cost. We lost many today, but I fear we will lose even more in the coming hours. Reports off a massive surprise attack across all twelve colonies are flooding in. We've lost contact with Picon Fleet HQ, and we've assumed the worst. Before we were able to destroy enemy Baseships…" The Admiral trailed off for a few seconds. "One was able to launch a series of strikes against the planet below with nuclear weapons. Many of the larger cities are already gone.
"I've decided to pull as many people off the planet as possible before the enemy returns in greater. We don't have much time, but we are going to conduct a massive planet wide evacuation with a few Battlestars. This is to be a tremendous undertaking, so I will need everyone to work quickly and diligently if we are to save as many as we can."
The communications cut off abruptly and the flurry of work resumed as quickly as it had halted. The Raptors that had dropped off the Rollin's and Hyperion's wounded were already preparing to launch once again. The trainer Vipers were shuffled into their tubes so that they could launch again in case the Cylons returned.
Hawley caught the arm of a passing crewman. "How many of our Vipers did we lose out there?"
The crewman's face twisted as if he tried hard to recall the events of just over an hour ago. "Nearly all of them, sir." The crewman shifted on his feet, scratching the back of his head. "Nearly all of them…" The crewman repeated as if the realization of the two hundred pilots he used to look over being gone was just now hitting him. "We've brought back in about ninety from our ship, the rest are from the other ships in the battle-group."
Ninety Vipers? That was it? The Arcadia at full complement had four hundred Vipers.
Vipers were still being towed down into the hangar, all of them dead and most of the pilots along with them. The deck gangs would pry the cockpits open to retrieve the pilots. Most were just limp bodies who had run out of air during the fight, every now and again, they would pull a live pilot out who would gasp for air as he ripped his helmet off. He watched as one such pilot was dragged from his Viper and saved from the slow painful death of asphyxiation. The pilot was taken over to a medical triage to be checked for long term effects of oxygen deprivation. "Baby, hey man."
The pilot looked up to him. His pale white face and his eyes were bloodshot red.
"You all right?"
The pilot nodded slowly to him. "Yeah." It seemed to take him a few seconds to realize who he was talking to. "Lucky… the Misfits, you guys flew out there."
"Yeah, we did." With a forced smile and a shot at humor, he said, "Looks like rolling in those trainers was a good idea, huh?"
Baby's face broke into a small smile, but only for a moment. "Yeah, I guess it was." The boy hung his head for a moment. "They're dead, Lucky, and I did nothing to stop it."
"It wasn't your fault."
"Doesn't matter. They're dead and I didn't even get to take a shot in return. I watched them blow Carl right out of the sky. I saw him screaming as the missile hit his Viper. I couldn't do anything about it. Nothing." He placed his face in his hands and began breathing deeply; Lee figured he was trying to keep from breaking down in tears.
He had to get his mind off of what had just happened. Keep him busy. Lee placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "You'll get to take a shot soon, I promise, Baby. Right now, though, they need us in the Raptors taking those people off the planet. You good to fly?"
The pilot nodded slowly.
"Good."
Hawley nudged Baby's shoulder and moved by him farther down the deck toward the Raptor assembly area. There will be time to grieve later, he told himself, but now they needed to see about getting as many people off the planet as possible.
He was pressed into the Raptor corps to head planet side to get as many people as they could. He had only flown a Raptor a few times before, but it all started coming back to him once he began flying. Two hours of nearly nonstop Raptor flights down to the planet, and eighty thousand people later the Arcadia was filled to the brim with refugees from the surface below. The last of the pilots stumbled out of their Raptors, the effects of sitting in a cockpit for too long starting to get to them, and moved swiftly to a small area that the knuckle draggers had carved out of the flowing crowds of refugees on the hangar deck for the pilots to regain their breath. His hands shook, a side effect of holding on to a flight stick for far too long, but he was ready to go out again.
In the two hours they had been over Aerilon, there hadn't been much more than a few wings of Raiders coming against them, but they knew their luck wouldn't hold up. The second the Cylons were able to regroup and send a few Baseships their way, they'd have to bug out. Even with the Phoenix and Judgment, both Mercury Class Battlestars, finding them they'd need more firepower to stave off any attack that came their way. Captain Hart, the highest ranking pilot left in the Arcadia's air wing, made her way up to the group of pilots.
Hawley was against a wall, his head between his knees as he clutched a bottle of water. Garrett was next to him, resting his eyes as his head leaned against the wall.
"You all did good," the major started, making them all look up to her. "But I don't think we're out of this yet. Since we've been out and about, the Arcadia has lost contact with three of the Colonies. The other five are reporting heavy casualties, it appears that this virus is widespread and allows the Cylons to systematically wipe out our forces without putting up much of a fight." She let the news sink into his already shaken up pilots.
Hart continued, "When the nukes hit, they took out Aerilon's long range transmitter. They're able receive most of the reports coming in, but they haven't been able to send anything out. Right now, the rest of the Colonies probably believe we're dead, and that means that the Cylons probably do too. The Admiral was planning on jumping away from Aerilon in an hour. After that, we're going to see about taking the fight to the Cylons."
"What about our Vipers, ma'am?" Wacko asked the question on all of their minds.
"We're working on it. We've figured out it was a virus so it shouldn't be long before we can stop it. Trust me, next time we're out there it will be more than just the Misfits taking a shot at the Cylons."
She made one more glance over the pilots, giving them a sharp nod and dismissing them to get some rest before they had to go out again. Hawley didn't even move. He was too tired and shaken up from the recent events to want to get up.
"Excuse me." A voice came through the crowd of people, and a small man walked toward him. His head came up to look at the man and he saw there was a small photo, Hawley figured he was just looking for another lost loved one. "I've got a photo here…"
"I'm sorry, we can't look for individual people down there. We don't know where to start looking, or what is even still left standing." The Lieutenant began, but the small man just shook his head.
"It's not that at all. This photo was taken just after the nuclear weapons hit." The photo was of a man, a soldier by the looks of it, kneeling on the roof of a tall building wounded perhaps, or just overwhelmed by emotions. Smoke rose from the capital city of Aerilon beyond the man and in the very corner, the flag of the colonies waved.
Hawley looked up from the photo to the man. "Who is this soldier?"
The man shrugged. "I don't know. I don't even know who the photographer was. When I was boarding the Raptors, a man handed me the photo and mumbled, 'lest we forget' and collapsed and died." The man stopped for a brief moment. "I didn't know what to do with it, so I thought that the ones who saved us should have it."
The Lieutenant nodded and thanked the man. "Lest we forget." He mumbled the words as the man left. The picture was powerful and moving all at the same time. Others needed to see it.
Lucky pushed himself up and off of the bulkhead and headed toward the CIC. He'd find someone more important than himself there. The corridors were just as choked as the hangar with refugees, and he had one hell of a time pushing his way through. Finally, he reached the CIC. The officers about didn't even notice him, aside from Commander Turner. She motioned for him to come. "We never got to thank you, Lieutenant. You held off the first wave of Raiders just long enough for us to get a shot off. You all saved a hell of a lot of people."
Hawley nodded but said nothing of it. Instead he held out the photo to the Commander. "A man gave me this a little bit ago. Lest we forget." The words seemed to fit the picture well, so he repeated them.
Admiral Tyros walked up behind him and took the photo from stared hard at the picture before looking back up to him. "Lest we forget," the Admiral repeated. "We're going to have a long journey ahead of us, Lieutenant, and we can never forget what happened here today. Where it all started."
Hawley nodded to the Admiral. He was right– too many had died here today to forget. "So say we all."
So there it is the first chapter of my new story Misfits. Expect a new chapter in about a week or so. For those of you that follow my other story, Helios, I will not be continuing with it for the time being. Right now I'll be focusing on Misfits until I'm farther into this story. As for my second story Pinnacle I'll be taking that down soon as I've lost interest in the story all together. If anyone would like to take up the story shoot me a PM and I'll send you what I've got for it.
Anyway please leave a review on how you thought Misfits was so I can know how I'm doing. Also, I do take story suggestions and ideas so if you've got one that you'd like to see in one of my stories then shoot me a PM and we can talk about it!
