Circe Base
January 29th, 3050
Shuttles and Dropships had been landing and launching continuously all day and through the night, a constant stream of refugee's coming down from the ragged fleet and heading towards the prepared quarters. While 50 thousand people wasn't all that many, in the grand scheme of things, basic incompatibilities between airlock systems and poor communications, with only a couple linguists available to translate and the best translator off on a diplomatic mission, made things even harder. But it still was getting done.
President Roslin was already in her new quarters in the building set aside for the leadership of the Colonials. While it was much larger than most of the other buildings, the vast majority of it's internal space was taken up with conference rooms, communications facilities and administrative offices. The actual living quarters for the President of the Twelve Colonies was scarcely larger than the other apartments, and the building housed all the members of the Quorum and their staffs as well, making it among the most crowded in the entire temporary settlement.
And the headaches were already multiplying, Sagitarrians refusing medical scans from the Hegemony doctors, Capricans objecting to living in rooms identical to the Sagitarrians... it seemed almost as if nothing had changed, sometimes. All of the pressures and conflicts that the long flight from the Cylons had held in check were starting to bubble back up once more amongst the civilian population... and they'd only been on the ground less than a day.
--
Conference Room, HWS Guerriere
HDU-54.3, January 29th, 3050
It was about an hour later, and the seven Cylons and Kerry were still sitting across from each other, with papers strewn across the sanded smooth planks of the anachronistic table.
"So let me get this straight." Kerry said, adjusting her glasses slightly as she reviewed a sheet of notes. "You are insisting that we 'Free the Centurions', turn over any Colonials to you with a pledge that you wish to keep them safe and 'not a threat'... at least some of you are demanding that we disarm and permit you to 'guard' us..." her tone was droll, but her eyes were cold.
"Well, Caprica, I can answer that. First demand is a complete non-sequitor, so I'm going to ignore that one. Second, I can answer simply. No. And third... not only 'No', but 'Hell no'. I trust that is clear?" her voice was now frozen, her eyes turning to lock on the Five who had insisted on that provision. "Now, you also mentioned that there were several Cylons amongst the Colonials and that if we found them you wanted them returned to you. That's also a 'No, not unless they themselves choose to return to you.'"
Caprica was frowning, while Boomer was a bit slumped in her seat. The Five leaned forward, sneering. "We are being completely reasonable, if it weren't for your stubborn insistance on such things." he said, contempt in his voice, before he turned to look at the others. "This is ridiculous, all humans are the same."
Caprica seemed about to answer when Kerry snorted. "Hardly the same. And you are hardly being at all reasonable." she said, then slammed both hands down on the table, rising to her feet and glaring at the Five. "You may have accomplished genocide through treachery and deceit once before. You are quite welcome to try again, but know that we are not only ready for you, but if we fail to reach an acceptable agreement, we will be hunting you." she let that hang in the air for a moment, then smirked, sweeping her eyes over the rest. "You will have no backdoors into our networks, no infiltrators amongst our people..."
The seven biocylons recoiled, looking surprised as none of them had mentioned a word about any of that. "How did you..." Caprica started, only to be interrupted as Kerry pressed a button on the console hidden by the table.
Moments later, there was movement from behind the screens, and Gaeta, Helo, Sharon and Gina stepped to the table and sat down. Flanking Kerry were Gina and Helo, with Sharon sitting next to Helo and Gaeta next to Gina.
The room was silent for a long, pregnant moment...
"We have already made contact with the Colonials. They have already asked for and received sanctuary within our territory. They, like you just have, have signed the Ares Conventions and agreed to abide by them." Kerry said softly, sitting back down and folding her hands together in front of her face. "Your war with them is over, unless you wish to be at war with us. We do not desire war, it is a last resort, not a first option, but we are not afraid of it. We will, of course, be glad to facilitate permanent peace negotiations between you and them." she continued, looking Caprica in the eye, even as the biocylons looked shocked and surprised still.
"For your information, Lt Gaeta, Lt Agathon, Mrs Agathon and Ms Inviere are here as observors for this contact. Lieutenants Gaeta and Agathon are representing, respectively, President Roslin and Admiral Adama, Mrs Agathon is here to give me advice vis-a-vis the Cylons, and Ms Inviere is present as the representative from the Colonial peace movement." Kerry smiled slightly then. "And before you ask, yes, we are quite aware that Mrs Agathon and Ms Inviere are Cylons, a Number 8 and Number 6 respectively."
Silence again reigned for a moment, before Gina leaned over and whispered something into Kerry's ear, which caused the linguist to smother a slight chuckle and whisper back, eyes twinkling a little. Gina sat back, visibly repressing a grin and shaking her head in evident amusement while Kerry looked across at Caprica once more.
"So what shall it be, Caprica? We are willing to live in peace with you. We are willing to go to war with you. The decision, however, is yours."
The Five slammed his own hand on the table and looked furious. "So you have the traitors with you too?" he snarled, voice taut with anger. Caprica looked towards him and frowned, then glanced over at Boomer for a second. Boomer was staring at the other Sharon, who was returning the gaze calmly.
Suddenly the One stood up. "Peace..." he said, not looking particularly pleased. "The war no longer serves a purpose."
Beside him sat the Four, who nodded and also spoke. "Agreed. The Fours vote for peace."
The Three beside him looked angry. "You got to be kidding!" she started, then crossed her arms and leaned back. "Peace once the humans are no more." she said, glaring at Kerry.
The Two was silent for a long time, then nodded. "Peace." he said simply, although a slight smirk was on his face.
The Five was fuming throughout, then erupted. "No! Have you all gone mad? If we let the humans go, they will destroy us!" he said, highly agitated.
Boomer turned slightly. "Sit down, Five, and be silent." she growled, eyes never actually leaving Sharon. "Eights vote for peace, of course."
Caprica relaxed and nodded. "Peace it is..." she said softly, a bit dreamily, her eyes drawn to an empty chair in the corner.
The Three smirked, looking over at the Five and nodding. "There will be no peace." she said flatly.
Suddenly alarms started going off, bright red flashing strobes and a hooting siren.
--
Bridge, HWS Guerriere
HDU-54.3, January 29th, 3050
"Incoming strike, 792 bogies, designating Raid One!"
"Disengage gravdeck, signal to Wolfpack to launch their birds!" Dacre snapped, settling into his command station while the bridge around him erupted into activity. A sudden beep momentarily distracted his attention as a display on the armrest lit up, showing a bruised Kerry, her glasses broken and blood trickling down from her nose.
"Engage the fighters only, James, leave the Basestar alone." she said, voice somewhat raspy.
"You serious? Fine fine..." he said, then turned towards the tactical section. "Designate Mother Hen as provisionally non-hostile, weapons free on Raid One." he snapped, then activated an internal comm channel. "Major, what's going on up there?"
--
Zenith Jump Point
HDU-54.3, January 29th, 3050
The cloud of Raider's swarmed forward, impelled by their instructions and racing towards the small group of ships. Frantic orders pounded through their links back to the Basestar, but they had been ordered to ignore any further instructions... until this system was swept clear of all non-Cylon ships.
Their targets started manuevering, slightly, the ovoid ships spreading out even more and launching 8 more fighters, all of which started accelerating towards the formation at a paltry rate, in comparison to Viper's. The twelve other fighters which had already been launched likewise started accelerating towards the mass. 20 fighters versus 792...
--
"All Comics, light 'em up!" came the order over the squadron taccom network, as the onrushing RPT-14-A Raptor Aerospace Superiority Fighters swept towards their foes. In each cockpit, switchs were flipped, even as the ultra-sophisticated neurohelmet descended from the models used by the Star League rendered a complete virtual rendering of the universe around each fighter, giving the pilots the ability to 'see' everything around them as if they were the fighter, and not merely in the cockpit. Targetting reticules danced around, each incoming craft tagged with a simple icon. There were so many, however, that it was nearly impossible to tell them apart readily.
"Firing SWARM-S..." came the call, as sophisticated little missiles erupted from the compact class 5 LRM launchers to scream downrange. For now the Arrowlight Type 4 Extended Range Particle Projection Cannon's were silent, at this range they wouldn't yet be all that effective, and would preclude full salvos from the missile launchers due to heat buildup.
--
When the first Raider exploded it was a suprise, the range was so great that nothing should have been able to hit them... then more exploded, as shoals of ridiculously small missiles lept from the defending fighters. More Raider's exploded, even as the enemy fighters started to manuever to keep the range open, peeling to the sides.. even as much larger missiles started smoking in from the ovoids.
--
The four Wolf class Parasite Escorts spread out, targetting system locking onto the distant swarms of incoming enemy fighters even as the fighter screen started manuevering. Paired AR-10 Maelstrom launchers started cycling, sending Barracuda capital missiles screaming downrange like massively oversized SAM's, each missile outmassing entire squadrons of incoming targets. As the range closed, the extended range heavy lasers started tracking individual targets and firing, cycling as rapidly as possible from target to target as they were joined by the more powerful ER PPC's and heavy pulse lasers. Space started to burn as the mass of targets were rapidly attrited
--
Some of the Raider's peeled off to deal with the annoying fighters, even as entire squadrons of them were smashed by gigantic blasts from the incoming fire... and then it got worse still, beams of coherent energy and light started licking through the formations, from both the fighters and the 4 ovoids, and even from the destroyer itself. Powerful, ravening beams of destructive energy that pulsed and flashed, impaling Raider's one by one... and still nothing was in range of attack!
Many had been destroyed, but over 600 Raider's remained, one hundred of them pursuing the fighter's, the rest streaking towards the larger targets. As more of the giant missiles smoked in, the Cylon fighters opened up with their cannons, targetting them and destroying them short of the formation, much to the... satisfaction of the organic intelligences controlling the fighters. But still the flashs of light sparked and winked, chewing through the ranks of Raider's with inhuman precision, the accuracy, range and deadliness far exceeding the serried ranks of cannons that they normally faced.
--
As the fight swirled closer, targetting systems emotionlessly updated the holographic situation display. The bridge of the powerful destroyer quivered as her own weapons went into action at last, pulse lasers, gauss rifles and ER PPC's spitting out death and destruction in a coordinated net of annihilation. The extremely light targets died to the lightest hit, yet were devilishly fast and agile. Luckily the targetting and fire control systems were up to the task, backed up by gunners skilled in their art and brutally effective. In some cases, even the capital class PPC's were brought into play, smashing into the densest remaining clusters of Raider's.
--
"OK, boys and girls, stand and deliver!" came the call, as the flights of RPT-14-A Raptor's finally burned through the last of their SWARM-S bins and turned to face the depleted ranks of pursuing Cylon fighters. Engines blazed, thrusting the 75 ton aerospace fighters at over five g, paltry in comparison to the swiftness displayed by their targets but satisfactory for such a heavy design. Paired Listar Mk II Medium Pulse Lasers now sparked out, sending ruby slivers of deadly energy into the onrushing targets. Paired ER-PPC's supplemented the heavy fire, alternating with the pulse lasers, and as the aerofighters plunged into the melee, the aft-mounted Wilhelm Arms Precision Twinshots joined in, sending pairs of advanced STREAK short-ranged missiles sprinting into unfortunate cylons who strayed into their firing arcs.
--
The defending fighters slashed into range of the Raider's, and the Cylon fighters received another surprise as direct hits seemed to have no effect whatsoever... instead the defenders opened up with nose mounted weapons... that sent smaller versions of the energy pulses into the very teeth of the attacking Raiders, each hit cripping or destroying their target. Those Cylon fighters that got behind their far less manueverable opponents received their own shocks, as missiles suddenly erupted into their faces from launchers in the tails of the defenders. Soon the hundred Raider's facing the 20 fighters were only 50, then 20... then none at all.
--
"Stand by missile defense! Switching over to automatic AM control!" came the cry from the tactical section.
The massed anti-fighter arrays that peppered the hull of the swift destroyer were fully engaged as the enemy fighters swarmed around, even as small autocannons tracked and scanned... as missiles started swarming from the Raider's the light machinecannon erupted with streams of 20mm slugs, forming curtains of fire in front of the incoming missile tracks... a wall of steel designed to deal with the mass LRM strikes that were a favorite of the RFR and nearly complete overkill against the far smaller number of incoming threats.
--
The Raider's pressing home the strike on the larger ships were fairing no better, the concentrated defensive fire ripping their formations into shreds and the targets shrugging off everything they could throw at them as if it were insignificant. Unfortunately for the Raiders, none had been equipped with nuclear missiles, and even for bio-mechanical brains, watching close in defense systems effortlessly swatting missiles out of space short of their target was... disheartening.
Not having received orders to kamikaze, the Raider's continued trying to strafe their targets after their missiles were exhausted. Their cannons dug into the armor a little, sending little bits of paint and armor flying, but were mostly about as effective as throwing spitballs at a wall. And still they died, as the ravening beams from the swivelling mounts blotted them from space with ruthless precision. Even if one missed, there were three others already firing, and not even the most veteran Raider's were able to evade them all.
Less than ten minutes after the strike began, it ended... all of the Raider's were drifting wrecks or expanding balls of gas and debris, while the targets... were effectively untouched.
--
Conference Room, HWS Guerriere
HDU-54.3, January 29th, 3050
The meeting room was in total chaos, without gravity from the rotating grav deck papers, pens and other objects floated in midair, drifting this way and that. The bodies of Three and Five likewise hung in midair, globs of blood spattering the bulkheads from the brief accelerations from the minor manuevers the Destroyer had taken.
Gina was supporting Kerry, who was in even worse shape than she had looked in the comm. Her arm hung limply from her side, her wrist twisted back at an unnatural angle. The two Sharon's were both tending to Helo, who had managed to break an arm when he got slammed into a bulkhead by the Three. Gaeta and the One were trying to chase down errant papers and objects and secure them, while the Two and Four were tending to Kerry, the Four in the process of setting the broken wrist while the Two worked on a gashed open leg.
Immediately after the alarm had started, the Three and the Five had dived across the table, intent on killing those on the other side. Five had actually reached Kerry, but a combination of the sudden loss of gravity and Kerry getting her arms up had kept Five from being able to get an instant kill, and Gina had snapped his neck before he could do the same to the diminutive linguist, Three had gone for Helo, but Sharon had managed to kill her first. The other Cylons had been so surprised that they'd reacted slower, but react they had, and had immediately started proclaiming that they were trying to cancel the orders and had nothing to do with the whole mess, even as they cowered beneath the sudden appearance of the 'centurions'.
Three suits of Marine Battle Armor were now in the room, but none of them had cleared their visors, instead calling for medical assistance through their suit comms and staying back at Kerry's command.
Kerry was still quite concious, and despite her injuries was thinking relatively clearly. After making the call down to the bridge she'd been trying to avoid looking at the ugly expression on the dead Five's face, even as the body drifted about in the null gravity and, at one point, nearly impacted her when iGuerriere/i had manuevered. At that, the linguist had lost her lunch, adding vomit to the detritus in the air.
A minute later and a group of medics and ratings came through the hatch and took over the scene.
"Leave the Cylons alone, the guilty ones are dead." Kerry managed, right as Dacre burst in, looking worried. "I'll be fine, Jimmy..." she continued, her weak voice making the assurance sound just a little false. "Gina and the rest killed the two nutballs before they could really hurt me..." she said, rambling a bit as her cousin took her uninjured hand. The medics were already loading her into the stretcher despite the relative chaos. "Take us home, the Basestar will stay here..." she continued, voice fading as the painkillers the medics had injected started to take hold. "Mission... accomplished."