Chapter 2:

Some time earlier….

The gas giant was the largest in the system and would have almost completely filled the view from their cockpit canopies, but both Vipers orbiting the planet were facing outward since it wasn't the focus of the current mission. Instead, both pilots had their views fixed on the next in the series of moons orbiting the planet that they were visiting.

Since the fleet's arrival in the system, the commander had ordered a number of long range recon missions to scout the system for Cylons or other activity and to scan each body for resource content. So far, the patrol had scanned the giant and the first fifteen moons, and number sixteen was slowly coming into view. Due to the size of the gas giant and its distance from the star, the moon was currently in the umbra, the deep shadow cast by the giant, since its near equatorial orbit carried it directly behind the planet for part of its orbit. However, its calculated trajectory showed that it would be emerging into the twilight of penumbra shortly and then directly into the rays of the distant star almost immediately after that.

"Trent, are you picking up anything? It looks like an oversized lump of coal to me."

"Scanner is showing that it definitely has some carbon content, but I think the shadow is what's giving you that impression, Hamm. I'm picking up a higher content of silicates and other minerals, but the surface is so rough that I'm having a hard time keeping a beam on it. It looks like there's some ice and a thin atmosphere, too, so they're helping refract the scan. Are you getting anything on long range?"

"Nah," Hamm replied, "just the forty-leventh chunk in line after this one. Seriously, I think that will be number 17 or 18, but we'll be on this survey for several more cycles if we keep finding them at this rate. Fortunately, it says we covered almost 70 percent of the orbit, so hopefully, we won't find a mob of moons in this last part of the arc. No slew of satellites for us! Please, Lords!"

Trent laughed lightly at his wingmate's antics. They'd been together working together for a good while so he was used to his silly word plays.

The two Vipers continued closing on the nearby moon for the next centar, with both Warriors performing their assigned jobs as the moon entered the star's full light. Just before they went into the first of an estimated 12 polar orbits around Sixteen, Trent adjusted his readings to scan a wide swath of the sphere while Hamm switched to visually recording the surface. There was a thin atmosphere around the planetoid, so they stayed just above it for their scan. At their speed, the rough ground on the moon below was speeding by.

Midway through the fifth orbit, Trent hit the short range ship-to-ship transmitter again, "Hamm, I'm picking up something ahead. It appears to be metallic, on the side of one of the mountains."

"Pick a mountain, any mountain, too darn many mountains!" griped Hamm.

Closing on the location, they zoomed in to see a distinctly alien looking building of a shiny black metal, with what appeared to be a large landing pad in front, jutting off the face of the mountain. Though both poles appeared to be relatively level ice fields covering large areas, this was the only level spot that they'd seen anywhere near the equator on the entire world, but even it wasn't perfect. As they were passing overhead, they saw that approximately half of the pad area had collapsed, and was hanging down the side of the mountain. As they started moving away, they noted that there were no lights, no signals of life or activity, nothing but a seemingly ancient otherworldly edifice that time had forgotten.

"Well, that was interesting," said Trent. "I wonder who put that there, and how long it's been there."

Hamm laughed, "You would! I wonder if there's anything we can salvage from it. New ship designs, great new energy sources, ten thousand yahren old ambrosa, pop-up dancing girls." Trent laughed at the last two references, the source of an old joke between them, and they both returned to their mapping observations.

Two orbits later, Trent's sensor went off at the same time Hamm cut in to interrupt him—"One! Three bogies! 7 o'clock low, coming up fast!"

"Got them," replied Trent. "Let's go Beta Three!"

"Gotcha!"

In a well polished maneuver, they hit their turbothrusters for three microns, then did a quick pull up with thrusters on, bringing them back in line with the approaching Cylons before they could exit the atmosphere. Firing their turbo lasers, the first Raider became a fireball that streaked across the sky for a moment before beginning its fiery descent toward the moon.

The other two Raiders split, leaving Hamm the follow-up shot he wanted on the left one. The plasma blast hit the Raider's right engine, exploding it, and sending the Raider into an unevenly powered spin toward the ground below. The Centurions inside the craft struggled to right it, but it was too badly damaged, and moments later, the ship smashed into the side of one of the moon's mountains, exploding on impact.

"Hamm, the third one's the pro! He's good!" said Trent as he rolled and cut tight to avoid three successive blasts that passed just behind him. Having dived down on the approaching Raiders and lacking time to regain altitude, he realized he was now too close to the planetoid to use many of the usual tricks. The trailing Raider was now laying down a slow but steady stream of fire above him to prevent him from climbing further into space where he would maximize his maneuverability.

"Could really use some help here, Hamm!" he called.

"On him!" replied Hamm as he realigned his craft to take his shot.

Just as he got a lock and hit the turbolasers, the Cylon succeeded in making a final adjustment, locking onto his Viper prey, and loosed another round of shots. Trent felt his ship shake violently as his top engine turned to slag, along with part of the vertical fin. He cut the fuel to the damaged engine, trying to avoid a follow-up explosion and possible further damage as the Raider behind him disintegrated into pieces that rained down onto the moon below.

"Trent, you okay, buddy?" asked Hamm, sliding in behind and to the side of Trent's Viper. He started a slow maneuver behind and around his friend, viewing the damage from all sides.

"I'm here, but my Viper has definitely seen better times. It flies like I'm maneuvering through some bad mushie soup, with only partial power to both of the engines I have left—hold on—frack, now it's showing that I have a fuel leak, too."

"Hmm. We got them all," replied Hamm, finishing his inspection, "but that last one did a real number on you, too. Your ship won't make it home like that, so we need to set down to patch that leak and see if we can restore at least some of your power. That might give us a fighting chance if we run into any more tinheads. Where in the Twelve Worlds did those guys come from, anyway?"

"No clue, but their trajectories weren't from anywhere close to that old building we saw. Hamm, take the data and scoot back to the ship. I'll swing over to that landing pad and hunker down there. You can have a Viper wing back with a rescue ship for me by breakfast time," said Trent as his right engine seemed to shake for a few microns.

"Not a chance, my friend. Let's do a tight beam data dump back to the ship, then let's scamper back to that alien looking building like you said. Since the Cylons weren't coming from that direction, hopefully they haven't found it yet. We can use its landing pad out front and we won't have to land on the side of one of those mountains or in one of those polar snow fields where we might sink! And say, we may get to check out that ancient ambrosa and those pop-up dancing girls yet!"

'***

About twenty centons later, both Vipers settled on the pad in front of the ancient, alien building. From the ground, both the pad and the building looked like they had seen better millennia, though the strange black metal showed no signs of corrosion on either. The pad, seeming flat and level from above, was badly dented in numerous places, and it sloped slightly away from the building. The face of the structure appeared to have partially collapsed inward, leaving what appeared to be several small openings. Both Warriors donned enviro-suits with a full helmet due to the cold, the low air pressure, and the noxious gases that made up the moon's thin atmosphere, and then climbed down from their Vipers. They approached the largest visible opening with their blasters drawn and peered into the blackness inside. Due to the moon's rotation, it appeared that night was about to fall in this area of the satellite.

"Based on what we saw from orbit, we'll get some bluish glow from the gas giant," said Trent, "but I wouldn't count on it being of great help. Let's make sure we're not about to have an unwelcome welcoming committee, then find your ambrosa and pop-up girls and see if we can get my Viper fixed so we can get off this rock!"

The scanners detected nothing in the building, and night vision equipment was revealing nothing due to the low temperature, so Hamm held up a handlight questioningly and Trent reluctantly nodded. Nothing like having to give away any possible element of surprise to potential opponents just so you can see if there are any such opponents, Trent groused to himself. Holding the handlight cross handed with his blaster supported on his forearm, Hamm activated the light.

There appeared to be equipment of some unknown type in various locations around the large room, but what was most immediately noticeable was the dust, which seemed to cover everything like a blanket. With the room largely protected from the winds outside, the small holes in the wall allowed dust to enter and then settle in the interior calm. Both men started forward slowly, with Hamm using his toe to part the dust enough to be certain there was actually solid floor before putting down any significant weight and committing to the step. Seeing nothing so far and needing to explore more efficiently, Trent activated his handlight, too.

Using the unknown equipment for cover and the light to lead the way, they went about 20 metrons into the building, detecting no significant differences as they went, though the dust was much thinner as they moved further into the building. Trent shot a few images of the equipment and surroundings as they went, still looking intently for any possible opposition, but finding none.

About ten metrons from what appeared to be the rear wall of the building, Hamm suddenly gave the signal to stop. When he did, he eased into a squat and seemed to be even more alert. Trent followed suit, wondering what his wingmate had seen, when Hamm slowly swiveled the light beam down on the dust on the floor just in front of him. Trent was puzzled for a moment until, into his view, came the still crisp and rather distinct footprint of a Cylon Centurion!

'***