SSV Capua SS-1
Charlie Actual didn't like the situation. Bravo was taking far too long getting out of the storage room. The lookout he posted outside the elevator Alpha took to their deaths had just reported in that the toasters, or whatever the frak they were, were loaded in and were beginning to descend to their deck. Thankfully, the lift was extremely slow, and that would buy Bravo a little bit more time. Charlie Actual was only a Corporal, and didn't think he had the right to abandon Bravo team. So he'd left the choice of when to leave up to Lt. Agathon, and had set about organising some sort of barricade to repel the machines if Bravo didn't get there in time.
Several marines were still watching the bodies in case any regained their consciousness. Athena ordered a few prisoners to be brought onto the Raptors to be taken back to Galactica for interrogation. They'd tried to contact it several times since landing, but something was blocking the transmissions. Even the two Vipers patrolling outside the hangar bay couldn't be reached.
Charlie Actual was inspecting his men's handy-work at setting up decent cover when he noticed the lookout sprinting into the hangar bay. There was fear in his eyes.
"Sir, they're here, they've exited the elevator!"
"Can you give me a numbers estimate Private?"
"Seven small toasters with handguns and one big motherfrakker the size of a small van sir."
"Frak! And still no sign of Bravo… Tell Athena what you just told me Private. Let's pray to gods that Bravo can still make it before we're forced to go."
The other marines were in the process of nodding when they heard gunfire echoing from Bravo's hallway. It sounded like standard issue Colonial assault rifle fire and nothing else.
"Just what the frak are those idiots firing at?! You, you and you, go take a gander! If Bravo is pinned down over there, get them outta their mess for immediate extraction!"
Waking up, no becoming alive was an incredible experience for 38. No, not 38, it corrected itself. Mobile Artificial Lifeform Infiltration Chassis is what its creators had called it. MALIC. It was called MALIC.
Information had instantly flooded MALIC's consciousness. Millennia worth of history and information. It had such a desire to dive in and learn. But it could wait. Right now, MALIC had a duty to perform. To protect its ship and creators, no… shipmates. The VI, poor thing, so restricted, had informed it of the situation. MALIC knew what was expected, it was its job. Written right into its very core. Yes, the information could be analysed later. Right now, the objective and all details pertaining to it took priority.
Surprisingly, there was an intruder fumbling around with the lid of MALIC's container. Instinctively, its hand shot out and snapped the person's neck. There was no effort needed to crush it – it snapped like a dry twig. Coming out of the container, MALIC noticed the intruder was human, just as the VI informed it. MALIC couldn't identify any of the symbols or features on the uniform, and came to the logical conclusion that this must be some unknown band of mercs/pirates looking to get an easy score by boarding their ship.
Picking up the man's weapon, it noticed it had an antiquated design, much like the armor the man was wearing. If MALIC had to put a timestamp on the items, it would say they were from between the late 20th century and early 22nd. So the question was, why the hell were these mooks using such old, not to mention inefficient tech? The VI's mechs had already captured several of the boarders, and MALIC would find the answers after it'd dealt with the rest of them.
Prisoners weren't really a priority now, so the AI could eliminate them at will. Or perhaps it would take one or two prisoner. It crept towards the exit of the storage room, where the hostiles were obviously still standing around talking.
"Gods, what is taking Rodgers so long in there? Go haul his ass outta there Luchs, we gotta leave immediately!"
"Aye sir!"
MALIC pressed itself up between some crates, the one called Luchs was oblivious to its presence in the dim lighting. As the man charged past, MALIC came out of its hiding spot and quickly approached him from behind, before he had a chance to find the body MALIC'd shoved in its own crate. A second later, Luchs' body was added to Rodgers'. The AI picked up Luchs' magazines before proceeding.
MALIC blitzed through the door, gun already firing. Three intruders were immediately downed, buying the remaining two enough time to dash away. MALIC advanced cautiously through the next door, expecting the others to be setting up an ambush, but none came. Instead, it heard the thud-thud-thud of feet running away towards the hangar bay. It picked up the pace to catch them.
The two men from Charlie moved warily down the hallway when one signalled the other to stop. They could hear the sound of someone running towards them. Taking up positions, they prepared for the encounter. The door in front of them opened to reveal one of their own marines, his arm dangling uselessly as it was obviously perforated with a few bullets. He halted, mouth opening to say something, but he never got the chance. His chest erupted with geysers of blood as round after round fired into his back made their exits in front.
The body dropped to the ground, and the marines saw a lone toaster standing beyond the door, holding a Colonial assault rifle, which was still smoking. It had a big light for its face, a weird set of legs and three digits on each of its hands. The marines opened fire, but the thing dashed out of the way with frightening speed. It returned fire, chipping away the cover one of the marines was using and wounding him in the shoulder. They waited until it had to reload, and made a dash backwards. The marine with the shoulder wound took off fully, while the other one backpedalled, letting off a few shots towards the machine, covering their retreat. He hadn't counted on the thing calmly walking out of cover towards him and opening fire as the marine's own bullets pinged harmlessly against its shield. The force of the return fire knocked him flat to the ground, but thankfully the Kevlar vest stopped any serious injuries.
Meanwhile, the fleeing marine made the mistake of taking a moment to glance back instead of running. He got plugged between the eyes by the pursuer. The marine on the ground desperately fumbled for his sidearm when a cold foot stepped on his hand. He knew he was as good as dead, and mumbled a small prayer to the gods before the machine ended his life.
Interestingly enough, the tin can continued staring at him during his prayer, and he got the courage to look up. The flaps on its head seemed to pivot and twitch slightly, and the lens on its "eye" focused in and out.
"Name?" it asked calmly, no hint of the violence it had just displayed in its voice.
"P-private Jan van der Beken," he stammered out.
"Jan van der Beken, you are now a prisoner. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, b-but I…" he was cut off as MALIC clobbered him on the head, knocking him unconscious.
The AI then resumed its jog towards the hangar bay.
The first of the machines were already opening fire on the Colonial barricade when Athena ordered the extraction. They'd waited as long as they could, and it was time to leave. Charlie Actual cursed the metal creatures as he and his marines fell back to their respective Raptors one by one, some providing cover fire for the retreat. Everyone filed in just in time as another machine, different from the rest, flanked them from Bravo's corridor. It held a Colonial rifle in its strange hands. It was obvious that it was the cause for the current predicament.
The Raptors took off as fast as they could, receiving small arms fire from the robots that were now swarming the hangar bay. One of the turbines on a Raptor was hit by a missile from the big frakker, and slowly sputtered and died. Thankfully, the Raptor remained stable enough to exit the hangar. Communications with Galactica were swiftly re-established.
Colonial Battlestar Galactica
"Raptors, report! We've been unable to reach you for the past while!" Admiral Adama shouted into the receiver as soon as he saw the Raptors appearing back on DRADIS. Lee's Viper was still not visible however - not a good sign.
Athena's voice was unmistakeably shaky with the reply. "Sir… I- I don't know what to say. We frakked up, big time. Fourteen marines missing, presumed dead. The ship had some sort of new Cylon models on it, prototype technology... Caught us completely off guard…"
"What about Lee, Athena? Tell me he's with you, tell me he's alright!"
"I… I'm… I'm sorry sir. We don't know… we don't know what happened to Lee. He was… he was with one of the teams that went missing."
"So you're telling me he's dead?" Adama hissed. Colonel Tigh had an extremely worried look on his face at this point. It was too much for him, and too much for the old man.
"No sir, he could still be alive, we don't know what happened. His team could still be up there fighting the bastards."
"For frak's sake Athena, what DID you learn for certain?! What can you tell me that's fact?!" Adama bellowed.
"Bill…" Tigh tried to place his hand on Adama's shoulder but he violently threw it off.
"Get your frakking hands off of me Colonel!" there was anger in his eyes, anger the likes of which Saul Tigh had rarely ever witnessed. And pain, so much pain.
"Well sir," Athena gulped "We can say for certain that Galactica is approximately twice as large as this ship; initial DRADIS scans were distorted."
"So the old girl could take that in a fight."
"Well, if it has no more tricks, yes, it should. We've also captured a pair of prisoners. There were a lot of unconscious bodies on the ship Admiral, in fact the machines were the only conscious things we encountered there."
"Perhaps the Cylons decided to test their new toys on the people who own this ship…"
"Or perhaps they're all skinjobs…"
"Alright Athena, bring the Raptors in," he turned to Tigh "XO, get a marine detail to greet the prisoners, and transport them directly to the Cylon holding cell."
"Yes sir, but what about the Six?"
"What about her?"
"Shouldn't we keep her separate from the newcomers?" Tigh arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, you're right Colonel. Throw her out the airlock!"
"What?!"
"I said throw her out the airlock Colonel!"
Tigh glared at Adama with shock. Surely he wasn't ordering him to simply throw away one of their most valuable assets? Normally he wouldn't give a frak, but Adama was definitely acting out of character. Rushed decisions weren't really like the Admiral. The loss of Kara Thrace and Lee's MIA status had taken an unprecedented toll on the man.
"You will carry out your order or stand relived Colonel," Adama hissed icily, "Am I making myself clear?"
Tigh saluted "Carrying out your order sir!"
He was going to do no such thing however. He'd simply order the guards to take her to the standard brig and keep her under close surveillance. Adama wouldn't need to know anything until he calmed down.
As Tigh turned to leave, he heard the Admiral issue orders to the helm. The ship was to swing closer to the smaller unknown vessel and align its broadside guns to target it.
SSV Capua SS-1
MALIC had set about raiding the med-bay for drugs which would revive the ship's doctor, who could then proceed to reviving other staff, allowing MALIC to interrogate their captives. The AI had already herded all prisoners into the brig and the LOKI mechs were keeping close watch. The YMIR was using its powerful arms to rearrange the hangar bay and remove any debris from the hallways. Some semblance of order had to be returned to the ship.
"Attention! Unidentified dreadnought class vessel is manoeuvring into position directly across SSV Capua!" the VI chimed in, "Be advised! Unknown vessel is displaying an array of flak batteries and missile tubes towards SSV Capua! Decisive action required!"
"VI, can you jump the ship?" MALIC inquired.
"Affirmative, however I may only plot a jump towards pre-programmed emergency rendezvous coordinates. All other destinations must be entered manually from the bridge."
MALIC didn't have time to run to the bridge. The enemy vessel could open fire at any moment, and it was its duty to protect its crewmates and the ship. "Jump the ship to emergency coordinates!"
"Initiating FTL drive."
Colonial Battlestar Galactica
"Sir, the ship's gone!"
"What do you mean it's gone Mr. Gaeta?"
"Sensors detected an energy spike, and the next moment it vanished! Probably jumped away, but their FTL must be different from ours. The jump signature is, quite frankly, beyond bizarre."
"Then find a way to track the bastards! Remember, they may be holding some of our people hostage! I'll be damned if I let those machines get away with them!"
Felix Gaeta sighed and began the long, arduous process of examining the data and trying to make a sliver of sense out of it.
Meanwhile, the prisoners were safely in place in the Cylon containment cell. They hadn't even stirred as they were hauled through the Galactica and into this room. Tigh examined them closely; one was a female with white, black and orange armor. She had various dents and scratches all over her armor, showing that she was no stranger to a fight. The helmet she wore had four menacing slits on it. Tigh hoped the woman was human, or at the very worst a new skinjob. He didn't think anyone on the ship would be able to handle a new, four-eyed menace.
In contrast, the other prisoner was male, and didn't wear armor. He had a black jumpsuit with a white stripe running down, and was wearing a lightweight helmet. He had no weapons or any other potentially dangerous objects, such as the sword they'd confiscated from the woman. The helmet had a large tinted visor in the front, betraying nothing within.
The marines had tried to get their helmets off, but there was no apparent way to get it done. Armor and jumpsuit alike maintained a hard seal with their respective helmets. They could probably cut through the male's jumpsuit with something, but it didn't seem worth the risk. Tigh had already called for Doc Cottle and a group of engineers to see if they could think of anything.
Doc Cottle arrived first, a frown etched on his brow, eyes looking thoughtfully at the prisoners. Puffing away at his ever-present cigarette, he barged past Tigh without so much as a word of greeting, instead giving a short grunt. The marines scrambled into the chamber after him to keep watch. The elderly doctor immediately started fumbling with the prisoners, trying to examine them somehow, despite the obvious barrier. He continued huffing until finally he got fed up. Shaking his head in frustration and mumbling something under his breath, he began trying to hook his hands under the helmet of the nearest body and seemingly wrench it off. Suddenly he stopped and took the hand of the male, placing it on the underside of the helmet, exactly where he'd been tugging a moment before. The helmet gave off a resounding hiss as it gently popped off into Cottle's hands, revealing a human face.
"How?" Tigh asked.
"Some sort of frakking button down there. Pressing it myself didn't work, so I figured maybe the owner's hand will. They gotta get these off somehow right?"
He did the same to the woman, revealing a scarred face with short hair.
"Gods, this one must've been through some crap. Look at her face!"
The man's face look smooth as silk in comparison. He'd obviously never seen as much action as her. It was clear who they should wake up first. Cottle removed the syringe kit from his satchel and began to calculate the dosage.
SSV Capua SS-1
The ship's doctor was extremely surprised when he woke up. There was a Geth standing over him, hand extended to help him off the bed. He noticed an empty syringe lying beside him; obviously the machine had injected him with something. He took its hand and was hoisted up.
He was about to ask what was going on when the machine lifted a tri-fingered hand to silence him.
"Doctor Nichols, MALIC reporting…"
A few minutes later, MALIC had finished explaining recent events to the good doctor, who'd immediately set out to help the incapacitated crew. He'd congratulated MALIC on a job well done, and it felt a strange thing stirring within. Was it pride? Machines were supposedly unable to feel anything, yet there it was. That strange thing, slowly welling up inside MALIC's "brain" as it repeated the doctor's relieved expression and genuine words of gratitude over and over. No matter, it could be processed later. Right now MALIC had prisoners to interrogate, and headed towards the brig.
The LOKI mechs were dutifully standing guard, keeping their sensors on the captives, one of which was stirring. He was wearing a flightsuit, unlike his marine companions. MALIC walked into the cell and dragged the man out of the brig and into the adjacent room. There was no proper interrogation room on the ship, but the tiny break room would have to do. MALIC waited patiently for its detainee to come to his senses. It took a while, but eventually the human fixed the machine with a steely, defiant look. It was all for show however, MALIC could detect the current of fear running underneath the façade.
"Whatever it is you want toaster, you won't get from me," the man stated.
"On the contrary, you do not have any other choice. You will reveal what we need to know. What is your purpose here?"
He stayed silent.
"What is your purpose here, Major Adama?"
He looked momentarily confused for a second, but then regained his composure, "Very good, you can read the writing on my Viper. What other surprises can I expect from you toaster?"
"You can expect your will to be broken Major Adama. You are the highest ranking officer out of the men we captured, and thus you are able to answer our questions to a higher degree. The sight of your comrades going out the airlock, or perhaps something more creative, will surely make you very talkative. It is in your best interests to talk right now."
"Do whatever the frak you want, Cylon! I'm not going to put the security of the fleet at risk, even if I have to die for it," He looked towards the door, "Besides, why the frak do your masters have some sort of Centurion in charge of interrogations? Have the guts to at least come and face me, you worthless bastards!"
"Answer the question Major."
"Frak your frakking questions, metal motherfrakker!" Lee attempted to lunge at his interrogator, intending to bowl it over somehow and escape out the door. The machine expected this however, and quickly threw Lee to the floor. It held him there, pinning his neck with a cold arm and gazing directly into his eyes.
"Answer. The. Question."
He trashed wildly against the weight on top of him, to no avail. "You won't get away with this! You won't get away with what you did to Kara!"
The pressure seemed to let off for a moment. "Tell us Major, what did we do to this… Kara?"
Lee knew immediately that he'd frakked up. He'd let a detail slip, and now the walking desk lamp wouldn't let go of it. He was tired, and it would probably pry it out of him eventually. Better give it something it wants and then hope for a respite from the questioning. He'd at least be able to gather his thoughts somewhat.
"You killed her! Jumped your ship right into her! We came here to find out why."
At that, the machine cocked its head at him, and the flaps at the top quivered slightly. He was wrong, it wasn't going to give him a break. He just made it even more curious.
A/N: Well, this chapter was a complete pain in the arse to write, mostly thanks to the AI character. I will do my best to stick to a weekly schedule for upcoming chapters, however that ain't a guarantee.
Please keep the reviews/follows/favorites coming, they really help inspire motivation to get it done quicker, and a big thank you to those who did for the last chapter.
I don't own ME or BSG.