Chapter 4
So I feel that the next chapter will have the scene some of you are looking for, if it is, and you don't want to read it, I will try and put a asterisk (*) next to the name. As always with this chapter, no difference: be sure to offer feedback and constructive criticism, I know I have probably gotten several details wrong, I kinda messed up several details concerning the Raptor, and always feel free to read and reread.
Raptor 249: Three kilometers from the Colonial Fleet and Allies.
"Galactica flight control this is Raptor Two-Four-Niner, requesting patch through to Galactica Combat. Priotity One."
"Hold short Raptor Two-Four-Niner, clearing line to Combat."
"Fracking hurry it up will you." Racetrack flipped off the receiver and gave it the gun, pushing the Raptor forward past a patrolling flight of F-302s the Tau'ri had assisting with the Combat Air Patrols around the fleet. The Tau'ri vessels could also be seen on the outskirts of the fleet, it seemed that one or two were missing.
"Calm down Racetrack, it will take time for them to calculate their jump into this system." Clara reached an arm over and massaged Racetrack's left shoulder.
"You forget the military etiquette, they are withing five minutes Hyperspace from us, if I'm correct, and they can be on top of us before we even make the pattern."
The comms crackled. "This is Galactica Combat, Colonel Tigh."
Racetrack's hands were a blur as she turned her receiver back on. "Galactica Combat this is Racetrack, we have scouted what we believe to be a combat force of multiple Goa'uld and Wraith warships in the P35T9 belt."
There was silence on the other end, Clara thought she could hear a faint voice as Colonel Tigh's hand slipped on the receiver. Finally the bridge talker's voice came over the comm. "Racetrack, you are cleared for a combat landing, prepare for transfer to gunship operations." In the background they could hear the Condition One alarm.
"Copy that Galactica, lining up on final." They lined off Galactica's port landing deck, closing at a higher speed than usual.
Clara clenched tightly to her seat as the ship roared into the pod and slammed against the deck. A few months ago that would have been called a Boomer Landing, now it was simply bringing the Raptor down to hard on the deck. After they stopped the ship lifted and drifted over to a cargo lift where they were taken down to the Flight Deck. Chief Tyrol and Specialist Cally were moving over as the Raptor was taxied over towards the far end of the deck. The hatch swung open and Clara climbed out as Racetrack shut the systems down.
It was the general chaos on the deck as the ready Vipers were moved to their launch tubes, Clara could see on the opposite end of the deck the Raptor Gunships being moved into position for launch. Clara jumped down off the wing of the Raptor and yelled back in.
"Let's go LT!" a grunt came from inside and emerging was Racetrack, helmet under one arm as she joined Clara as they sprinted down the deck. There was the final Assault Raptor, it was actually a scout model that had been equipped with some exterior missile pods so it was slightly faster and more maneuverable at the cost of armor and protection.
The deck gang was ready to move the ship the second they boarded it, even before the electronics were coming online. By the time Clara had manged to fire up the control circuits and different feeds, the ship was next to be on the lift up to the Landing Deck where they would launch from. Finally, they were set, just as the ship was being lifted unto the hangar deck, as Clara tuned into the combat frequency.
"Alright, everyone report in."
The radio chatter picked up as each group reported in, finally it came for them to report, Racetrack called out they were ready for combat.
"Understood. Galactica, Apollo here, all fighters ready for combat."
The combat frequency was an open channel, all traffic could be heard, there wasn't anything private about it.
"Galactica to all fighters, hold short and prepare for combat orders."
"Understood Galactica. Apollo to all ships, form a CAPs by section, commence patrols upon formation."
The squadrons acknowledged and split into their separate sections and began to patrol the mass of ships that were shifting to be protected by Galactica and her Allies.
Simultaneously, DRADIS, sensors, and scanners beeped throughout the fleet as multiple hyperspace portals opened. There were at least a dozen ships, mainly Goa'uld Ha'taks and the powerful Wraith cruisers. The comm chatter picked up again.
"Galactica, Apollo, I've got visual on fifteen plus enemy ships, requesting orders."
"Galactica to all fighter: Hold your position and wait for orders."
Clara was in the co-pilot seat of the Raptor, she had control of the weapons systems with the exclusion of Racetrack's dual forward facing cannons, and whenever she chose to lock the topside and lower turrets forward. Looking out to port (right), she could see the massive ships, many the size of Galactica, out numbering her and her smaller consorts.
"We aren't seriously planning on taking them on are we?" Clara looked at Racetrack, who doing final checks on her weapon systems.
"It's not the Old Man's call Ossy, if the other captains can convince him, we'll have to run." Racetrack called in the swarm of fighters that could now be seen bearing towards them in a mass unimaginable. "But if I know him, or any other captain, we don't want the losses of this battle."
Galactica Combat Information Center (CIC)
"We're out numbered three to one Commander." Saul Tigh's voice was it's usual hint of reluctance in this battle. It was the reason the man had remained Bill Adama's Executive Officer for so long, he always had input and didn't care whether Bill liked it or not.
Dee looked up. "Commander, the captains are on the line."
Bill grabbed the receiver from where he stood and held it to his ear. "Galactica actual, go ahead."
The voice on the other end belonged to Colonel Evan Lorne, United States Air Force, Commanding BC-03 Daedalus. "Commander, I don't want to say this, but we have to run."
Bill covered the speaker shortly and ordered Gaeta to order the fleet to jump to the emergency coordinates. He returned to it. "Is this what you all agree on?"
"I don't think we need agreement Commander." It was the voice of Major Morrison, Commanding Officer BC-07 Glasgow.
Bill was beginning to agree as the DRADIS panels began to chime again.
"Sir we have three base ships bearing on the Exeter's position, the last ships of the fleet have managed to jump away." Commander Bill Adama could see the perspiration on the brows of his CIC crew.
"We can stay and fight."
"Commander Adama, if we stay my First Officer believes we're looking at a possible loss rate of twenty-five percent." the number seemed well rounded, but Bill was sure the Federation officer Jacey Seller had simplified it from the Vulcan's logical calculations.
He was being overpowered, he felt it. Here he was on his own command, being pressured by the commands of several ships.
"I, for one, want to stay." It was that young and attractive captain of the Travelers, Larrin. "And in particular, my crew wants something other than a tactical retreat out of this."
"We can't Larrin." it was Lt. Colonel Sheppard.
"We have an advantage John, out fighters are scrambled, the civilians are out of the way, and we have out eggs in a ten kilometer radius, I say we punch a big damn hole in those hives and Goa'uld off Bill's port side." Larrin's logic was sound, every fighter in the fleet, even the shuttles Starfleet called gunships, were in the air at the moment awaiting orders.
"The hotshot is right, Sir." Tigh placed his phone down and stood ready to relay Bill's next order.
Bill though for several moments, his eyes were staring closely at the console before him. Finally he brought the receiver back up to his head. "Larrin is right, and opportunity as great as this is too good to pass up, out ships are deployed and we have the civilians out of the way. Not to mention we have to escort the Exeter aside so she can use her Warp drives." He paused, waiting for any arguments. "We'll form an advancing column, Galactica will lead with the battlecruisers on her flanks, and all fighters to the front in a Constellation attack pattern. Exeter and Larrin's battleship will bring up the rear with her Generational ships. We'll punch through the Wraith and Goa'uld ships and ignore the Cylons for now, our mission is to get into a position where the Exeter can safely set a large arc course that will take her around to the emergency jump coordinates. Once the Exeter is safely jumped away, the hyperspace ships will plan no less than three different jumps to the zone, while Galactica and all the fighters will cover their retreat."
"Commander we don't have to do this, we can all easily jump away, and Exeter can out run any Cylon or Wraith." Lorne's tone was frustrated.
"Do what you want Colonel, but whoever wants to stay can, we'll retrieve your fighters if you want." Adama knew Lorne wasn't the man to abandon comrades, not unless it was a greater good.
"If we're all settled then, I've got your back Commander." the Glasgow could now be seen moving into position around Galactica's aft portion, Odyssey, Apollo, and Daedalus began to move to do the same.
"Very well, all ships perform necessary maneuvers and transfer fighter command to Galactica Flight Control." Bill lowered the receiver and turned to Colonel Tigh. "Set course through the Wraith and Goa'uld force."
"You heard the man, set course!"
Assault Raptor 15
"Galactica to all fighters, form off Galactica's bow and prepare for a Constellation attack formation."
"Roger Galactica, all fighters form Constellation attack pattern off Galactica's bow, move."
The sixty odd Vipers, joined by their ten odd Assault Raptor cousins, formed in something of a conical formation less than five hundred meters from Galactica's bow. Another voice began to come over comms.
"Ahoy there lads, request permission to join the party?" the Voice was Scottish, extremely Scottish, Clara knew it was more so that the Doctor's.
"Who is this? Identify yourselves!" Apollo seemed unusually nervous for Racetrack's liking.
"Captain Colin Patterson, I'm commanding the air flights for us Earthlings Apollo." A group of fifty-six of the strange looking F-302s bank in behind the formation, the pilots obviously troubled by the formation before them.
"Patterson, keep you fighter behind my Raptors, when the Vipers break, you break and follow us."
"Very good sir, I think I see the logic of you plan here, be advised we got a number of the Traveler Puddle Jumpers coming up from out rear." The Scotsman's voice was generally jocular and cheery despite the looming mass of Wraith Darts and Death Gliders bearing on them at a massive speed.
"Whatever, just make sure they don't get in the way of our Raptors. Apollo out."
Clara closed her eyes, she was silently whispering a prayer under her breath. She felt a hand on her shoulder, her eyes turned to see that Racetrack's face was just as scared as hers. Clara blinked, fighting back tears that threatened to overwhelm her. This wasn't her first time in combat, it was her first time as a leading ECO in a Constellation pattern, and she was just about to the point of soiling herself.
"It's gonna be okay Clara, we release out payload, we fall back, simple as that." Racetrack pulled their helmets together, looking Clara right in the eye. Clara nodded, comforted in the woman's words.
They sat there, watching as the distance closed between the leading Vipers and the mass of enemy fighters. There had to be over a thousand, even if most of them were Wraith, the gliders were the second wave, backed by the fearsome Al'kesh bombers.
Someone had left their channel open, words of a prayer were drifting across the wireless until Apollo gave the order for them to shut up. They were in range, and Apollo yelled out the order. "Break!" the Vipers broke, the F-302s following them, leaving the Raptors open with a clear firing arc at the oncoming fighters.
Racetrack was Raptor commander, she took a breath and gave the order to fire. From each fighter launched at least a dozen missiles, streaking through the dark of space with the white dust superheated behind them. The second barrage came a second later, the weapons automatically locking unto the ships farther outside the first cone as the first missiles hit. Space lit up with fire and superheated shrapnel, hundreds of Darts blown to oblivion by the missiles, hundreds more after as the second barrage began to detonate.
Reports were flying over the comms, Raptors reporting they had expended their missiles. The Raptor may have armor, but it was worthless in a dogfight, the missile barrage had driven group back far enough to buy the heavy ships to slow and turn around.
"All Raptors, this is Racetrack, bring 'em home. We've done what we can ladies." The Raptors didn't have room for banking turns, so the ships flipped on end and hit the boosters, Clara was pushed into her seat as the ship decelerated and began to move towards Galactica's port flight pod. The fighter dove in now.
The F-302s and Vipers moved in, now spraying bullets, the F-302s giving them hell with their seeking missiles, they were suddenly joined by the Puddle Jumpers of the Traveler Battleship. Their drones pulled through space, one never missing it's target, the night was full of explosions now, the wireless filled with swears and calls.
"Starbuck, you got a green bastard on you!" Kat called.
"Leroy, watch your back old boy, gliders closing on your six."
"That does it! Got ten kills!"
"Frak! I'm hit, I've lost all lateral control."
"Beano, hold on, we've got help on you right now."
It went on as the Raptors lined their approach, the defensive perimeter was arrayed before Galactica's bow, thinning the horde, now joined by the suppressive fire of Galactica. The Raptors had time they needed, or so they thought.
The Cylons were experts in fine art of precise FTL jumping, they had all but put a ship inside Galactica, and they showed it now as roughly twenty Raiders came out of FTL directly in front of the landing Raptors.
"Break, break, break!" Clara was jammed into her seat as Racetrack pulled the fighter through a tight loop, placing them where they were observing the chaos caused by the Raiders.
Racetrack didn't waste time, she cursed Clara for not using the defensive turrets, and lined up a Raider. She couldn't hit the thing worth crap, her shaking hands were flipping the ship too much as she all but freaked out in the cockpit, they were swinging about, Clara could barely control the ventral guns as Racetrack pushed them to the point of blacking out to extreme G-forces.
Clara looked at Racetrack, who was swearing profusely, and caught sight of a Raider bearing on their starboard. "Racetrack!" blue tracers bracketed the cockpit and shattered glass peppered the two of them. Clara felt her head jerked to the side, as if someone had grabbed the top helmet and slammed it against the opposite side of the windscreen, and saw stars when it hit the side of the cockpit.
Was Clara's head spinning, or was it the Raptor wheeling uncontrollably through space as Racetrack fought for control. Clara could hear a hissing, she almost lost it in panic, the air was leaking from her helmet.
"Galactica, Racetrack, requesting permission for emergency set down, we are heavily damaged and Clara is leaking air from her helmet."
"Racetrack, Galactica, cleared for emergency landing, bring her home quick."
The bright snow that was blurring Clara's vision was getting worse, now she gasped for breath, each one harder than the last. All went black. Seconds later she came to as the Raptor slammed against the deck, skidding to a halt halfway down the bay. Once they had lost all speed and were halted, Racetrack grabbed a suction cup and manged to cover the main hole made in the side of the cockpit, Clara now noticed the large crack in the glass of Margaret's helmet. Taking the cup from under her seat, Clara pinned the hole less than two inches above her head.
They took their helmets off, firing up the compressors to fill the cabin with extra air until they were cleared for taxiing. The comms were still afire with insults and callsigns, finally they were all silenced by Galactica.
"Attention all fighters, return and land immediately."
Flight and Squadron leaders could be heard telling the fighters to head home, and Clara could now see the first planes coming in to land. Vipers were leading, followed closely by the Traveler's Puddle Jumpers, and finally the Tau'ri fighters carefully maneuvering into the crowded bay.
The Hanger Pods were retracting now, pulling in to protect the multitude of fighters now covering almost every open space on the deck. Someone was calling for a sitrep from Flight Control, the crackle of the Flight Controller came through. "All fighters hold short for taxi, Galactica is preparing to jump."
They felt it now, the suddenly crushing feeling as the world seemed to compact around them. Then it was gone.
"All fighters, jump complete. Job well done pilots!"
The wireless was filled with cheers and whoops of triumph, so much so that the controller had to start muting frequencies so he could direct traffic. Even as he tried, all the while the controller detailed ships to their different lifts the wireless was still crowded as people spoke of their triumphs and close calls. Apollo finally put a stop to it.