PROLOGUE
"How is it that was can annihilate over ninety nine and three quarters percent of humanity within one day, yet the remnants of that accursed race can end up inflicting damage to us out of all proportion to their remaining numbers?", Number One snarled to the other assembled persons in a conference room on the top of the Virgon Space Elevator.
The others did not answer. The selected Humanoid Cylons that made up the Cylon High Command had spent the last few months after the successful shock offensive on the Colonies trying to eradicate the last survivors of the Twelve Worlds of Man. Instead of achieving their goal, instead, the few human survivors and the last remnants of the once vaunted Colonial Fleet had scored several major victories on the Cylon forces. The most recent battle had hit the Cylons badly and now this conference had been convened for what the humans termed 'painful soul searching', in order to find out just what was going wrong.
"Well, can't anybody here answer the question?", Number One asked with more menace in her voice.
"The loss of the element of surprise has made these remains of humanity more alert, Number One", Number Eleven ventured, "after all, it was their lull into a false sense of security that made our offensive so successful".
"But given the fact that we have overwhelming military superiority now, theoretically speaking, they should not be as successful as they have been", Number One pointed out.
"Numbers have their own special brand of perfection. As Humanity isn't perfect, that adds an element of uncertainty into any equation regarding computation", Number Six replied, "The scientist Dr. Gaius Baltar mentioned that statement to an earlier version of me down on Caprica. At the time, I did not think much of it, but given these humans string of military successes, it makes more sense".
"We had foreseen that humanity's imperfection could upset our plans, which is why we were created", Number Two pointed out, "so we should be able to make use of their erratic behavior in order to counter them".
"But we haven't", Number One spat out, "and while we are trying to counter them, they persist in their successful sorties against us. This last venture cost us dearly and the next time is likely to be more audacious".
"Taken in context, these raids, while successful, are little more than a guerilla nuisance", Number Five ventured, "after all, their military and manpower have been reduced so much that they can't defeat us".
"At the moment", Number One replied, "but if the GALACTICA ever joins in with these other forces that have been hitting us of late, then this conflict will drag on indefinitely while the other human survivors rebuild".
Everyone thought about Number One's last statement. Given the human capacity for revenge, they all knew that unless every vestige of humanity was wiped out, the threat to them remained. Eliminating nearly all was not enough. Something had to be done to find and wipe out the rest of them before it was too late.
"There are still a number of us unaccounted for", Number Eight suddenly ventured, "and most of those are in 'sleeper' mode. There is a chance that some of them may be with these humans, so perhaps we should send out the general activation signal and see if they can do something to expose them to us, once activated".
"Unfortunately", Number Three replied, "the signal has to be close at hand to the sleepers to activate them and given the probability that the humans may know about us, they will be alerted should they pick up such signals from our patrols".
"In that case, we wait until another battle takes place. When the battle is joined and the humans distracted, then the signal will be sent out", Number One replied, "so inform our task forces of this decision. The next move will be up to the humans. In addition, the other snares that we are building in the Promar Sector are to be expedited".
"It's not an entirely satisfactory solution", Number Seven commented.
"Given their recent successes, do you have any better ideas?", Number One asked Seven acidly.
Seven replied, "No".
"Then carry out your orders", Number One said.
"By Your Command", the others replied.
As they filed out of the conference room, Number One called Number Seven back.
"Yes, Number One?", Seven asked.
"Any further information regarding the Hatari Sector base star?", she asked.
"From the base star itself, nothing beyond what it's first probe dispatch had reported: that the human colony had been destroyed and that it was engaging the colonial warships that were protecting it. After that, nothing", Number Seven reported, "that's when we sent out survey probes to ascertain the situation there.
"It's been several months since our offensive. Why hasn't there been more information forthcoming besides what our initial survey probes reported?", Number One demanded.
"As you know, there is a large nebula between Cyrannus and Hatari", Number Seven explained, "and the makeup of the nebula is toxic to Cylon technology, which means we cannot go through it, even on FTL. We had to send probes around, which took a lot of time. Given the recent human successes against us, plus the fact that the initial survey of the Hatari Sector by our survey probes concluded that the mission to wipe out the human presence there was successful, despite the loss of the base star, sending another base star to confirm the survey mission was not a high priority".
"But still, we lost that base star", Number One reminded him, "which raises the question of just how successful it was in achieving it's mission".
"The survey probes showed conclusive information that the last remaining human warship immolated itself when it rammed the base star at the end of the battle", Number Seven replied, "and with the debris encountered, plus with no subsequent EMT emissions detected by our survey probes, the conclusion of total human destruction is solid".
Number One thought about this for a minute. What Number Seven said seemed plausible. The problem was the location of the Hatari Sector made prompt confirmation of the survey probes impossible, and with her recent directives reinforcing the Cyrannus System and setting up frequent probes of nearby sectors, there was not enough spare forces to check every remoter sector out. Still...
"Dispatch a single base star from one of the roving task forces and have it go to the Hatari Sector. The sooner that the initial survey probe conclusions can be fully confirmed, the better", she instructed, "I don't like having any possibility of other human survivors while we are engaged in hunting down and destroying these other survivors".
"By your command", Number Seven replied.
CHAPTER ONE: patrol routine upset
After returning to the Promar Sector from deploying a squadron of volunteers to serve with the Battlecruiser GOLIATH, the PEGASUS was resuming it's mission to find the Battlestar GALACTICA before the implacable Cylon war machine could do so. Given the vastness of the Promar Sector, Commander Cain often thought that finding a needle in a haystack would be a dead certainty in comparison. Probably that was why Bill Adama chose this location to escape the Cylons, he mused.
This region of the Promar Sector was dotted with small asteroids and larger chunks of spacial debris. Despite the recent supplies of fuel and other materiel from the Fleet Tender WARLOCK, the PEGASUS still needed to find useful raw materials to sustain itself, as well as to trade at the next scheduled rendezvous which would not be for another month. Given this requirement, Cain had ordered his CAG's to deploy additional patrol sweeps of vipers while the lone Peregrine and the two remaining Raptors made their deep penetration reconnaissance probes.
Flying one of these forward sweep patrols from the Battlestar PEGASUS were two vipers from Silver Spar Wing. Unlike most patrols, this one consisted of the Deputy CAG for Silver Spar Wing, Lieutenant Tricia 'Sheba' Cain, and Lieutenant Andrew 'Shooter' Macklin, the Commanding Officer of Spar Two Squadron. Tricia was getting some flight time in and Macklin volunteered to act as her wingman.
Tricia accepted the offer for two reasons. First, she knew that Macklin was an accomplished pilot, and second, it was a good way to show the junior pilots of the wing that the senior staff could pull 'routine' patrol duty. Besides, Tricia thought to herself, it was good to be out of the wing admin office! Being the deputy CAG required her to do more paperwork than flying.
They were close to the farthest extent of their patrol sweep when Tricia keyed her short range communicator.
"Hey Shooter", Tricia called out to Macklin.
"What's up, Sheba?", Macklin communicated back.
"Don't the Launch Officers get confused whenever you're ready for launch?", she asked. She was referring to Macklin's call sign. Launch Officers are known in pilot speak as 'Shooter'.
"I used to be one of them, Sheba", Macklin explained, "and when I made the request to the call sign committee, they didn't seem to object".
"Yeah, well, it would just seem rather confusing hearing 'Shooter, this is Shooter. Clear to launch' over the communicator", Tricia answered.
"Well, if the launch officers on board referred to our call signs instead of our patrol number designations, it probably would", Macklin answered, "but as they don't, it's no biggie".
Tricia nodded. This patrol was designated 'Omicron' and thus were referred to by the Launch Officers as 'Omicron Actual' (for Tricia) and 'Omicron Alternate' (for Macklin).
Macklin was not the usual viper pilot. For starters, he came into the Colonial military as an enlisted person and worked his way up through the ranks. He had been originally assigned to PEGASUS launch personnel, and had so impressed Cain with his organizational abilities, he had been sent to Officer Candidate School, where he had earned his commission before being sent to basic pilot training, then VTT.
After getting his ensign's bars, and after that, his viper pilot's wings, he had been sent to the Battlestar INDEFATIGABLE, where he had flown in Bronze Spear Wing, rising to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. Cain made a habit of keeping in touch with former crew members, and when a squadron command slot in Silver Spar wing came up, had Macklin transferred back to the PEGASUS to fill the vacancy. Macklin was glad to be back as he (a) respected Cain immensely, and (b) the squadron commanders slot carried with it a promotion to full Lieutenant.
"Ever regret not going through the academy, Shooter?", Tricia asked next.
"A little", Macklin admitted, "but since the support crews still regard me as 'one of their own at heart', plus the other pilots in Spar Two judge a person more on piloting ability than anything else, it means that I have a very loyal squadron base".
Tricia nodded. A lot of people resented 'mustangs' (slang for an officer who was a former enlisted man), but others showed a high regard for those who earned their rank and pilot wings the hard way. Spar Two Squadron seemed to be made up predominantly of the latter.
Just then, her scanner beeped. She quickly saw on her screens what her sensors had detected.
"You got it as well, Shooter?", she communicated. The scanner showed a moving target at extreme range.
"Yes, Sheba. Pretty much at the edge of our sensors. Can't get anything on it for the warbook to analyze at this range. Not even an IFF query".
"But I know that we don't have any patrols out there, so we better assume the worst. Let's change course and give a brief increase in our velocity for an intercept, then power down all but passives", she ordered.
"Okay, Sheba", Macklin replied, "you're the leader".
Both of them quickly punched in new instructions to the vipers' autopilots. Both fighters changed course and fired their engines up for a few seconds, then shut down. They were now coasting towards the unknown contact.
Back on the PEGASUS, Silver Spar wing CAG Captain Gene Syke was in the o-club chatting with his counterpart in Black Knight wing, Captain Lance Voight. Both had decided to take some down time after the recent deployment of the volunteer squadron.
"You know Lance, I hope that Chunks got all of his pilots safely aboard the GOLIATH", Syke said while sipping on his drink. Both were seated at a table beside a viewport looking out at the immense starfield. While Voight's fighter call sign was 'Pointer', Syke knew that Voight didn't like anyone to use it while he was not flying. Both of them had become good friends and Syke respected Voight's preferences. Syke didn't mind any of the pilots addressing him by his call sign of 'Bojay', but given Commander Cain's insistence on maintaining discipline at all times, the pilots usually addressed him as 'CAG' when he was not flying.
"Don't worry, Gene", Voight replied, "With the WARLOCK keeping them company, they will be okay until the GOLIATH comes to pick them up". Syke nodded. The fleet tender was a ship that the GOLIATH would not want to lose. And if worst came to worst, then the WARLOCK would be able to take the pilots on board before FTL-ing out to safety.
"Well, I hope that Dragon will be true to his word", Syke said. Voight nodded.
Syke was referring to the latest communique that Captain Logan Masters had written. It had been given to him by Cain after the WARLOCK had undocked (it was part of a collection of messages that colonel Lennox had given to Cain). The message read:
Gene,
Sorry I couldn't be at the rendezvous, but the GOLIATH and DRAGON'S LAIR had to be somewhere else. Rest assured that the tin heads won't be happy about it. The WARLOCK and the tylium she's carrying though should be a welcome sight for a fuel guzzler like the PEGASUS...
Anyway, Commander Hawke had briefed me about the squadron that Commander Cain is sending to us. They will be a great addition to our forces, and should help plug the gap until more pilots can be trained from the civilian population that we are protecting. It is our hope that once they are trained, and when we can start manufacturing vipers from local sources, we can start rotating units between us.
Thanks to the donation of the raptors, it has indeed taken a load off the LAIR. I'll have to see about getting you some more coffee in appreciation for that. Until then, I hope that you have better luck in locating the GALACTICA.
I feel like I'm being unappreciative by asking this, after all you have so far provided for us, but if you can locate more raw materials for trade at the next rendezvous, particularly the elements platinum and beryllium, it would help us immensely. Our base of operations has insufficient supplies and as you know, those metals are needed to maintain our electronic systems.
Take care, and best of luck my friend.
Logan.
Syke had shown Voight the message earlier. Voight was pleased at the prospect of getting more planes and pilots in the medium term, but was also aware of the request for platinum and beryllium. Both of them had checked with their respective crew chiefs and they had told them that they barely had enough of those metals to keep the wings going, let alone giving it away.
"Well, perhaps our fighter sweeps will locate some of those metals", Voight said hopefully, "after all, there's a lot of space debris and asteroids in this area of space, and given that the GALACTICA is likely wanting to get raw materials as well, if they passed through here, they should have left some traces at least".
"Considering how big this sector is, plus the jump we made after TOUCHSTONE, that is rather wishful thinking", Syke gently admonished, "for all we know, we could have way overshot them.
"I try to be an optimist, Gene", Voight replied with a faint look of disdain, "do you always have to be a pessimist?".
"If I were a pessimist, Lance", Syke replied, "we'd all be dead somewhere back there. But I see your point. Hope has kept us going so far. That, plus the Old Man".
"Too true", Voight agreed, "He's kept us going thus far, and if anyone can locate the GALACTICA, it's him".
The subject of their discussion was up in CIC conferring with Captain Glen Sanders, the Comscan and Second Officer of the PEGASUS.
"With all of the asteroidal debris in this system, it's going to make it tough to detect ship activity", Sanders had said, gesturing to a screen on the DRADIS console.
"What do you think caused all of this debris, Comms?", Cain asked. There was a rather large amount of floating rocks in this area of space, which was not unknown, but something about it was making him uneasy.
"Can't make any conclusions thus far", Sanders replied apologetically, "but Comscan and the patrols are not reporting the presence of anything unusual, and initial scans are picking up traces of useful materials inside some of these clumps".
"That's why we're here", Cain said unnecessarily. He knew about Logan Masters' request for platinum and beryllium and if they could find an asteroid with enough easily extractable metals, then they could stock up enough to trade at the next rendezvous.
Sanders nodded and turned back to his sensor screens. Cain willed himself to relax, but his subconscious was still making him uneasy...
Cain's uneasiness would have been more solid if he had been with Tricia and Macklin. After coasting along on their intercept trajectory, they had finally coasted to a range where the passive sensors could be utilized by the vipers' warbook computers.
"Warbook can't identify the type. New configuration", Macklin said to Tricia over the laser communicator, "but it's showing similarity in design layouts with Cylon technology".
"Frakk, that's all we need", Tricia replied, "I thought we had jumped beyond their dragnet.
"The warbook is theorizing that this ship design is not so much a warship as a freighter of some type", Macklin said after a couple of minutes.
"It's doing little more than guessing", Tricia answered, "We know too little about Cylon technological advances and without using the active sensors, we can't be sure".
"It might not be Cylon", Macklin ventured.
"We can't take the chance", Tricia replied, "and if they get a whiff of us, the entire Cylon war machine will be down on our necks".
"Do you want to head back and report this to the PEGASUS, Sheba?", Macklin asked.
"We've still got plenty of fuel, Shooter", Tricia replied after quickly checking her fuel gauge, "Let's shadow it for a while. As it's on sublight, it must be close to it's destination. Once we have an idea of what it is and what it's doing, we can head back".
"Okay, Sheba", Macklin acknowledged, "you're the boss. Let's see where this bogey is taking us".
With that, both settled into a shadowing formation. Tricia knew that they could maintain this configuration for at least two more hours before having to break off and head back to the PEGASUS. At the very worst, they would be able to have a better idea on it's trajectory so that a raptor could be quickly deployed to continue the pursuit.