Chapter 4: No Rest for the Weary, No Respite for the Wicked
After the ceremony came the 33 Minute Chase, when the Cylons would appear every half-hour despite how impossible it is to track ships through a jump. Except it didn't happen how I was expecting it.
Initially it was quiet. The Cylons didn't give chase. We went through a few jumps and saw neither hide nor hair of Cylons. I let my guard down and left the initiative to the enemy, and he, or rather she in this case, ran with it. First the water tanks on the Galactica mysterious blew out and all of her water was ejected into space. Before we could properly react to that the Cylons started the 33 Minute Chase.
At the time I reacted like everyone else; namely with panic and confusion. Namely I was panicked over what the actual hell was going on. As far as I could tell at the time canon had effectively thrown itself down the crapper. It was only once I started becoming fatigued after about eighteen hours of this that I started to think. First thing I knew needed to be done was shake the Cylons, then the Fleet could worry about our water situation. Problem was I didn't know if it was the Olympic Carrier that had the Cylon tracking device or whatever it was. So when Adama I had only the most obvious thing to suggest.
"Mister Corinth," I said to my comms officer, "Please get me a line to Galactica Actual."
A line was established. I summoned up all my will and cunning and I tried my best to unfrak the situation.
"Galactica Actual, go," Adama said over the line.
"Sir, this is Valkyrie Actual," I replied. "I've been thinking and the hard math says we can't keep this up. The Cylons are clearly tracking this fleet somehow and we need to do something about it."
"What do you suggest, Commander?" Adama asked.
"We stand and fight," I replied. "We have two battlestars and four squadrons of Vipers, plus raptor gunships. After the next jump I suggest we arm up and fight the Cylons when they jump in. If we can't shake the pursuing fleet then we can at least try to destroy them."
"And what about the civilian fleet?"
"We either have them wait here or jump away to the next set of coordinates. Either way, we're out of water and eventually we'll run out of fuel, so we should attack now while we still have our wits about us."
There was a moment of long silence on the other end of the line, then Adama said, "I'll take it under advisement. In the meantime continue as is."
"Yes, sir," I replied. The argument had been made and that was it. Anything else would just annoy Adama and most likely push him away from my suggestion.
Needless to say I was relieved when Adama ordered us to prepare for combat after the next jump. Both the part of me that was me and the part of me that was Wolfkill. We discussed our battle plan and came to the simple conclusion. Adama would hold back and protect the Fleet while I engaged the Cylons and destroyed their baseships. It was a simple plan, which I figured was good. Simple plans had less things that could go wrong with it. At least, that was the working theory. As the old say goings, no plan survives contact with the enemy.
We divided our vipers and Raptors into two flights. Alpha Flight would consist of two squadrons of vipers and protect Galactica. Bravo Flight would have the remaining Vipers and all of our Raptors, the latter being outfitted for anti-shipping work.
In the CIC I checked my wrist watch again. Fifteen minutes and counting until the Cylons appeared. My viper jocks were in their birds waiting for the order to launch. My Raptors were taking longer than expected. Galactica's raptors were sitting on my flight decks waiting for the launch order.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and refocused. It had only been a day or so since this chase began. I could manage it. I had to. My pilots and crew were relying on me to give them direction and to be their steady rock in this storm. I had to banish my fatigue and focus.
And then I saw her, dripping wet and with too wide eyes, looking at me.
"Boomer?" I said aloud.
"Are you going to save me, Alex?" she asked. "Save my soul from darkness and lift me into the light?"
I rubbed my eyes again and looked. When I opened my eyes she was gone and my XO was looking at me funny.
"Everything alright, sir?" Colonel Sokolov asked me.
"Just dandy, XO," I lied with a smile.
As if I didn't have enough problems to deal with. The pendant of Mjolnir suddenly felt very heavy around my neck.
"Cylon Baseships have just jumped into DRADIS range!" Lt. Burton exclaimed.
"Galactica has given the go order, sir," Petty Officer Corinth reported.
And like that Valkyrie was released and on the warpath.
"Tell Red Team to stick close and protect our flanks, Blue Team to protect Raptors," I ordered. "Designate Basestars Castle One and Two, light Basestar as Tower One. Raptors are to engage Tower One. Bring Valkyrie in for a combat orbit of Tower One and prepare nuclear fire mission at Tower Two. Execute."
The Cylon fleet consisted of two basestars, one light basestar, and two medium cruisers. If we were going to win this we were going to need a quick one-two punch to even the odds. All of that rode on the Valkyrie. Galactica would be taking on the brunt of the enemy firepower, so it was up to us to deal the damage back.
In order to do that we'd done a little math and a lot of calculated risk. It paid off in dividends, because we'd manage to catch the Cylons between our two battlestars. Galactica opened fire first with her heavy battlestar artillery cannons, blasting away one of the cruisers immediately and dealing some minor damage to Tower Two. A few seconds later Valkyrie fired her full broadside into Tower One, lighting fires all along her central spire and along the upper arms.
The Cylons responded immediately with the efficiency of machines, and they reacted exactly how I expected they would. They concentrated all their fire on Valkyrie. My ship rumbled as her CIWS worked overtime to intercept all of the incoming missiles, then shook violently as nukes and conventional missiles broke through the flak fields and hit home. The damage control panel went from all green to a lot of yellow as armor was dented and broke in several places along the midsection.
"Missiles locked!" Lt. Burton announced.
"Fire away!" I ordered.
From the forward tubes six missiles launched at Tower Two. They were low yield, 25 kiloton nukes but they were made to penetrate heavily armored hulls and detonate inside. With the thin skin of the new Cylon fleet I only needed one or two to hit to score a fatal wound. Three of the nukes hit home and blasted Tower Two in half.
By now the raptors had closed the range and fired their own salvos of nukes and conventional missiles. The light basestar seemed to shrink in on itself like a dying spider as the munitions gutted her and killed her. Also by now the raiders had redeployed and were now providing an effective anti-missile shield for Tower One and the last remaining cruiser.
With the enemy now reduced in number, Valkyrie and Galactica began to orbit the last remaining Cylon basestar, which continued to pump out hundreds of missiles at us. The yellow panels on my DC board were starting to turn red as the damage began to pile up more and more. I could feel Valkyrie shaking in pain under the bombardment, but I kept us in place. Whatever damage she was taking, the Cylons were sustaining worse.
The last cruiser of the Cylon attack force exploded as the Galactica fired off one of her remaining nukes at the cruiser, blasting the ship into scrap. The last basestar was on fire all across her hull as we kept piling on the damage until she eventually took too much. She jumped away, leaving her raiders to their fate.
"Well I'll be damned, we did it," Sokolov said in a whispered breath to me.
"Guess we're just damned lucky today," I returned. Maybe it was my tired state but my brain suddenly noticed that Colonel Sokolov was a woman, and a beautiful woman at that. Pale skin and copper red hair mixed with vibrant hazel eyes whose intensity was directly tied to her emotions, and she looked very tired but very happy. A small smile crept up at the corners of her mouth, making very interesting things happen to her face.
Down boy. I mentally shook myself into focus and said, "Let's get our vipers back aboard and assess the damage."
In the final assessment there was major damage to Valkyrie's armor and two of her gun turrets were destroyed. Ironically Galactica was better off because she was at the fore instead of flanking. We were down to fifty-seven vipers. I was dearly wishing that whatever god or ROB that had teleported me here had given me a Mercury-class instead of this dinky old Valkyrie, but on the upside the Cylons had gotten a good punch in the nose and were holding off for now. We had the chance we needed to find water.
Then of course he made his presence known.
"Tom Zarek," I muttered. "Just when we thought we were in the clear."
"No kidding," Colonel Sokolov agreed.
We were both running on a definite lack of sleep, as was most of the rest of the crew. We were still on combat alert just in case the Cylons showed up again, but we were slowly cycling the crew through to rest. In the meantime we'd put our scouts to good use looking for fresh water, and we found it buried under the salt ice of a desolate planet. It was the kind of work that would require hard labor, and as expected the thoughts of Adama and Roslin immediately went to the prisoners of the Astral Queen. Lee Adama had gone to offer his "Work towards Freedom" offer on behalf of the president, and had been summarily declined by Tom Zarek on behalf of all the prisoners.
Now the Astral Queen was under the control of the prisoners, and we had to deal with a hostage situation. Oddly enough this time it didn't involve Petty Officer Anastasia "D" Dualla, probably because Presidential Aide Billy was too tired to think with his manhood. Still, there was Cally and Lee Adama who needed rescuing, as well as the still loyal prison guards.
Which was why as soon as word of Zarek reached me I had my entire complement of marines ready for action. Instead of a single small platoon an entire company of 150 marines were ready for boarding action to retake the Astral Queen. All that we were waiting for was the go signal from Adama.
"Sir," Lt. Burton said, "Commander Adama has given the Go signal."
"Away marine boarding parties," I ordered, and about seventy marines from the Galactica and the Valkyrie launched in boarding raptors for the Astral Queen. There was no doubt in my mind that this wouldn't end with Zarek's insurrection dealt with. However the question was could I change canon enough to get rid of Zarek right now before he had a chance to start maneuvering into position to disrupt the Fleet in his petty quest for power.
Minutes ticked by slowly and quickly at the same time. Sometimes when I glanced at the clock barely a minute had passed. Other times when I looked a whole five or so had gone by in the blink of an eye.
"You know," I said idly to Sokolov, "I'm really looking forward to getting this cast off. I could use a good hot shower right now."
"That does sound nice," the Colonel returned.
And like that we said no more for several minutes, listening intently for updates from the marine boarding parties.
Finally the call we were looking for came in.
"This is Hitman One-One to Valkyrie and Galactica. The Astral Queen is secure. Minimal casualties."
Through the clapping and hurrahs I asked, "Hit Man One-One, this is Valkyrie Actual. Report the status of Tom Zarek."
"Tom Zarek is KIA, sir. Went down during the fighting attempting to resist. The rest of the prisoners were compliant with the stand down order."
Thank frakking Christ, I thought. One bullet dodged at last.
