Chapter 21.
Galactica Hanger Bay – two hours to Cronus departure:
Four hours had passed since Raptor 1 returned with the critical remains from Bluejay's viper. Master Chief Tyrol had started to download the data from the viper's black box when he made a startling discovery. Turning towards his assistant, he instructed him to not let anyone near the equipment until he returned. He soon made his way to the CIC. The wreckage revealed no explosive residue, but what he found in the hard drive was bizarre, he needed to see Adama.
The fleet had assumed their position in preparation for the jump to the next star system, and all fleet personnel had returned from the surface. Only the CAP remained, and several picket raptors at various locations within the system. Within the CIC, jump preparations are in their final stages when the communications officer relays a message that the mining ship Monarch had developed an FTL malfunction that would require an undetermined amount of time to inspect and repair.
"Damn," grunted Adama. "This is just what we need! All right, inform the captain of the Monarch to keep us informed as to their progress, inform the fleet that the jump is on hold." Ordered Adama. The admiral glanced around the room looking for his yeoman who promptly came to attention when he caught Adama's glance. "Coffee please, black!" snapped the admiral removing his glasses to wipe one of the lenses. To an outsider, his tone would seem rude and imperiousness, but to those who served under William Adama, they knew he loved every one of the men and women under his command; it was just how he spoke, short and to the point. The yeomen scurried off to procure the steaming hot beverage that could be found in a makeshift coffee station up in the core.
Chief Tyrol was soon at the side of the plotting table; Adama was surprised to see him. "What brings you up from the pods, chief?"
"I think I found an irregularity in the hard drive that we salvaged from Bluejay's viper."
"Irregularity? Explosive residue?" asked Adama giving him his full attention.
"No sir, no residue detected on any of the fragments, or on Bluejay's remains. What we found was on the hard drive, it's pretty well maintained for such a violent explosion." Replied the chief. "All systems were in the green immediately after take off, within a minute Bluejay received an encrypted wireless message. Immediately following the wireless message there was a massive spike in the tylium injection package, and then the explosion." Adama walked over to the communications station.
"Dee, you were on duty when Bluejay's viper exploded were you not?" The young female officer responded in the affirmative. "Did you send an encrypted message to Bluejay immediately after take off?"
"Negative sir," she then punched up a series of commands on her computer and reviewed the information provided. "Nor were there any outgoing transmissions from Galactica, encrypted or otherwise."
"Chief can you retrieve that message?"
"Far above my pay grade Admiral, you're going to need someone like Dualla to dig that out." Replied Tyrol.
"Good work chief; I'm going to detail Dualla over to your section to work on retrieving that message…give her whatever she needs."
"Aye sir!"
Galactica CIC
"Ah Madam President, glad you could make it."
"Good evening Admiral."
"It looks like we're going to be remaining in orbit for another day at least. The Monarch's FTL drive is in need of some repairs that will be time-consuming. Her maintenance teams are acquiring the necessary components from her sister ship, and once repairs are complete and function tests conducted we can leave this system. I have already alerted General Xalain of the situation, and he advised Mazzax."
"Anything serious to their FTL's?"
"Well as you're well aware, the slightest miscalculation, or component out of place can either disable the drive, or jump your ship into the wrong coordinates, maybe even straight into a sun. I told the repair crew to take their time and get it right. In the meantime we have a situation."
"Yes?"
"This is a military matter so I will request your cooperation in keeping this matter to yourself for the time being. Two officers assigned to Galactica have been murdered. A Marine and one of our pilots; both made to look like accidents."
"Look like accidents, you mean they were not?"
"Forensics teams positively concluded the Marine was killed by an overdose of a rare drug that is very difficult to detect unless looking for specific compounds. The crime was made to look like an accidental electrocution while reading in a hot tub."
"How did the pilot die?"
"Initial investigation of the flight recorder revealed a massive spike in the tylium injection system that 'may' have caused an explosion. Difficult to tell because of the amount of complete destruction, we do know that no outside explosive elements were used however."
"What little I know about vipers, I do know what malfunctioning fuel feeds can do to a ship of any size, much less a complex system such as a viper." Said Roslin.
"The problem is that the pilot received an encrypted wireless message moments before the explosion. I've personally checked the records, no such message was sent from Galactica."
"Sounds like you have a mystery on your hands, admiral."
"No Madam President, I have two murders on my hands to deal with. Searches of the personal possessions of the deceased revealed daggers with thunderbolt shaped hilts."
"The Thunderbolts of Zeus, they were part of that band of assassins?"
"It looks that way.
The two marines were cleaning their weapons; they had spent the last hour in the firing range and were ready to call it a night. Small arms ammunition were in short supply, so time in the range was kept to an hour with carefully rationed rounds provided to the Marines. The conversation had been kept to the confines of a new transfer of a rather buxom nurse to Galactica from one of the civilian ships. Soon it turned to a topic one of them was trying to avoid. The death of their Marine captain on the Chrion, and now Bluejay.
"There is no way the two deaths can't be connected!" stated one of the Marines. "Somebody has found us out!"
"Would you shut the frak up?" replied his friend irritably. "What is with you, are you trying to get caught? The less that is said, even between the two of us minimizes the chances of a slip. The old man would flush us out an airlock for what we took part in aboard his ship." He was getting slightly light headed, and feeling warm. The environmental controls must be off he thought, thank the gods their hour of practice was over and he could get out of this stuffy range.
He was surprised to see his friend whirl around drawing his weapon at him while wearing a stupid looking grin. He instinctively went to use a forearm block to knock the weapon aside but all he caught was dead air, missing the weapon completely. "What the frak?"
"Still gots the fastest draw in the fleet!" blurted out the Marine holstering his weapon clumsily. He was giddy, and broke out into coarse laughter.
"You fraking idiot, stop fooling around before there is an accident." He replied, the surprise must have given him a head rush, he felt like he would pass out. His friend lost his own balance as if drunk and dropped to one knee still laughing. Something was wrong, his friend was acting like an idiot, and he could barely gather his own thought.
"We're losing oxygen!" he exclaimed while making his way to the control panel to check the gauges. He was correct, the indicator showed that nearly all of the oxygen in the room was depleted, and carbon dioxide levels dangerously high. Stumbling over to the hatch he attempted to throw open the door with no success. His friend had dropped to the ground unconscious, and he realized he would soon join him if he didn't act fast. He drew his weapon to shoot out the observation window from the range master's booth above them only to discover that he no longer possessed any rounds, nor did his friend. They used up their entire training allotment. He vaguely recalled his face striking the deck as he finally lost his strength to remain standing. Both Colonial Marines, two assassins for the Thunderbolts of Zeus lay dead on the deck, justice had been served.