CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA
The Scorpian sky was its usual post-bombardment murky grey obscuring the direct sunlight that filtered through scattered breaks in the cloud. The Caprimart distribution centre was a hive of activity as the civilian volunteer drivers along with the Marines checked over their individual articulated trucks that were involved in this operation. It had been just over an hour since the Cylon patrol had last passed overhead and now every second was vital. The one hour wait was necessary to allow the patrol to get enough distance away from the distribution centre before the Marines began to move the trucks. On the other hand however it meant that they had one less hour before the next one passed over.
Adrastos felt like a headless chicken as he ran up and down the rows of the assembled trucks checking that each one was loaded and secured properly with their crews in the cabs. As he passed the seventh truck on his way towards the first truck that he would be riding in the air began to grumble with the sound of powerful heavy duty engines growling into life. Each truck had been checked thoroughly that it was in working order but Adrastos felt that there was no harm in checking one more time. If one of the trucks was to go unserviceable now then they may have time to repair it using parts cannibalized from the remaining seven trucks that were too much work to make ready for the operation. By the time he approached his truck which sat at the far end of the yard nearest the exit all fifteen vehicles were sitting with idling engines like a pack of eager dogs waiting to be let loose.
Adrastos ran around to the passenger side of the lead truck and reached up for the door handle that sat a good six and a half feet from the ground. Pulling down on the handle with his left hand he opened the door before climbing up the small step protruding from the steel mud guard surrounding the front wheel. Inside the cabin he encountered Rory Blake sitting in the driver's seat looking somewhat amused by the rather awkward way that the Marine officer had climbed in.
"Welcome aboard Lieutenant" chuckled Rory.
"Thank you" replied Adrastos through gritted teeth knowing that it was more of an insult than a genuine welcome. "We ready to go?"
"Just say the word" said Rory.
"Then let's do it. We got just under five hours before the next patrol flies over."
With that Rory turned to the truck beside him and gave the driver the thumbs up indicating they would be moving out. The driver in the adjacent vehicle acknowledged the gesture and passed it on to the next. Rory put the truck into gear, noting that the gearbox felt quite stiff from having been stationary for so long, before applying the throttle and the truck jerked forward suddenly before beginning to move at a steady pace. Rory immediately began turning the large diameter steering wheel to the left until the front wheels were bringing the truck around towards the direction of the front gate. This was the first time Nester Adrastos had ever traveled in a truck like this. Looking out over the seemingly immense engine bay of the front engined truck he wondered how anyone could navigate these things properly especially through a narrow street or road.
The truck rumbled passed the security gate house and out onto the deserted road that ran through the industrial estate. It was quickly followed by the second and in the span of just a few minutes all fifteen trucks had trundled their way through the entrance leaving the truckyard relatively barren. Only a small contingent of the Marines remained at the distribution centre to secure it while the trucks were enroute to the stadium. The convoy arrived at the junction that led out of the industrial estate and Rory instinctively stopped to check for oncoming traffic.
"Um...I don't think anything's going to be coming this way?" laughed Adrastos.
"Right!" he said feeling foolish. "Old habits die hard."
Applying the throttle once more Rory guided the truck out of the junction and turned it to the right. Once the trailer had straightened up behind them Rory increased the speed down the empty country road. For Adrastos, it felt like the truck was hurtling down the road seemingly out of control but Rory was in his element as his mind settled into the fact that there were now no speed limits to hinder their progress. Every several minutes or so Adrastos leaned forward to look at the wing mirror hanging from the passenger door to check on the truck behind them. Every truck that was infront of another had to check on the progress of the following truck to ensure they weren't being left behind. Each truck had their own short range wireless sets but these were only to be used in the direst of emergencies for fear of the signal bouncing off the atmosphere and tipping off a Cylon listening post nearby.
As they traveled along the road that was now winding to the left an abandoned car appeared infront of them. It was stopped sideways half across the left side of the road and was riddled with bullet holes. Seeing that it was directly in their path Rory pulled the steering wheel sharply to the right and the truck swerved violently. Adrastos looked over at the left as he held on to the door handle and the dashboard to keep him upright. The car seemed to disappear under the front of the engine bay before there was suddenly a loud smashing sound. The corner of the trucks front bumper had clipped the back of the car sending it spinning around to the side and it rolled off the road until it hit a tree. The impact seemed to do nothing to the trucks progress and it continued on unabated.
"Yea I've done that before!" announced Rory proudly before sniggering to himself.
"No doubt" said Adrastos grinning. "Ok, keep on this road until we reach a T-junction and then take a right."
"Yes sir!" bellowed Rory in an almost mocking tone. They had twelve more miles to travel until they reached the stadium.
COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS
BATTLESTAR HERMES STARBOARD HANGAR POD
The Alexis sat nestled inside the cavernous Hangar Pod that had cocooned the vessel like a protective mother bird taking her chick under her wing. The Alexis took up half the overall length of the magnetic Landing Deck and the fit was quite tight. Since it had docked with the Hermes the heavy liner had become a hive of activity as it was readied for its part of the mission. The main passenger cabin was being cleared, rather crudely, of its seating so that the absolute maximum space was available for the supplies from Scorpia. Some of the civilians had been drafted in for this job since the bulk of the crew of the Hermes were too busy trying to get as much of the Battlestar ready as possible for what lay ahead.
Caleb Dytto sat in the pilot's seat holding the flight manual in his hands and feeling like a first year Academy 'plebe' once more. He was competent that he could pilot the Alexis through space since the physics behind it were not unlike a transport shuttle or Raptor just on a much larger scale. Flying a spacecraft like the Alexis through an atmosphere was a whole other story however. Despite the aerodynamic shape of the vessel it was not a true aircraft having only limited atmospheric control surfaces and it would completely rely on its vertical thrusters for lift and to slow the vessel down during landing.
Since the Alexis would emerge from its jump inside the atmosphere of Scorpia Caleb could skip passed the whole section regarding the dangerous act of reentry but this had its own problems. The aero-braking that comes from reentering an atmosphere helps control the rate of descent but this wasn't going to be a factor during this mission. The Alexis would simply 'appear' in mid air and begin falling very quickly. This would put extra strain on the vertical thrusters which would be desperately trying to control the rate of descent. The higher up in the atmosphere the Alexis will emerge the more time it has to slow its descent however this would also increase the risk of detection by the orbital Cylon DRADIS if the mission to destroy the Basestars failed.
Reading through the manual Caleb read the Chapter regarding landing for what seemed like the third time in half an hour. One line stood out for him; If the liner is descending at its terminal velocity then the vertical thrusters need at least forty thousand feet to adequately slow the vessel down for a controlled and safe landing.
Although the best effort was being made to calculate the jump there was always the prospect of navigational area creeping in and screwing everything up. They could emerge from the jump in high orbit or inside a mountain! Even the best FTL computer in the Twelve Colonies couldn't guarantee that the Alexis would hit its aim point of sixty thousand feet.
With that in mind Caleb turned to the chapter half way towards the back of the manual entitled 'Emergency Procedures'.
BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK
Three Raptors sat at the far end of the Hangar Deck. Chief Imlay had referred to these as the 'perfect three' since he had checked them over so many times that he was now convinced that there was nothing wrong with them whatsoever. He had joked to Specialist Gorseinon that he had even made sure the seats didn't squeak when sat in. They had to be in perfect working order for these were the Raptors that had been tasked to destroy the Baseships in orbit of Scorpia. Chief Imlay had given them his personal attention making sure that they had the best components that were available from the damaged Raptors that were being used for scrap. This included an additional FTL navigation computer rigged to each of them to double their processing power. This would be essential for calculating the short range jump from Scorpia to the Baseships as well as escaping quickly when the nukes hit. The arrangement was somewhat untidy, the additional computer being hardwired with a web of wires to the main one and secured via adhesive tape to the floor of the cabin, but it was effective and working properly - at least in tests.
'Stinger' walked slowly around Raptor Six-One-Seven with his fingertips gently caressing the metal and his eyes scanning the hull for the slightest sign of imperfection. It was a pre-flight routine he had done countless times in his career and the whole thing had become automatic to him. He kneeled down low and looked around the landing skids checking for leaks or excessive wear and tear. 'Stinger' had total faith in the Deck Gang but all pilots were responsible for their spacecraft once it left the Hangar Deck and therefore such pre-flight checks were both a matter of safety and insurance.
Chief Imlay watched 'Stinger' from across the Hangar Deck. Although there was plenty for his team to do he felt it was necessary to keep an eye on the pre-flight checks going on around 'the perfect three'. Under any other circumstances it would have been a matter of pride for him not to have a complaint but something was different this time. The six flightcrew who were flying these Raptors during the mission had walked onto the Hangar Deck with a distinctive aura surrounding them. Everyone had noticed it and seemed to be giving them a wide berth as if afraid that it was somehow contagious. The aura had the stench of death. There were few who believed that their part in the operation was survivable to say nothing of achieving their goal of destroying three Baseships. The knuckledraggers and pilots who were buzzing around the Hangar Deck seemed to fall silent when they were around as if paying their respects to people who were still alive.
"Excuse me, Chief!" A gentle feminine voice from behind him tore Chief Imlay's gaze away from the Raptors. He turned to the right to find Melissa 'Aurora' Saunders standing beside him. "Have you seen the CAG?"
"Uh, he's just down there Lieutenant" said Imlay pointing at 'Stinger'. Melissa thanked him and began to make her way across the deck watched by Imlay. He couldn't believe that just three weeks ago she was a civilian refugee, a survivor of the disgraceful conduct of the crew of the Battlestar Pegasus. She now looked every bit the Colonial Warrior even if her military drill still had much to be desired.
As Melissa walked upto 'Stinger' she took a moment to compose herself. She swallowed the apprehension she had developed whilst walking down to confront her senior officer and spoke up, "Excuse me, sir."
"What is it 'Aurora'?" asked 'Stinger' as he was checking the starboard engine exhaust for any sign of obstruction.
"Sir, about the scheduling for the operation. I've noticed that I haven't been assigned a flight duty."
"That's correct" said 'Stinger' as he moved to the port engine exhaust. "You're still training. You're of more use to the ship by staying on the Hangar Deck with the Deck Gang and helping out here with any damaged ships that come in."
"But surely the more ships out there fighting the Cylons the better chance of this thing succeeding?" protested Melissa in a way that indicated to 'Stinger' that she had rehearsed it vigorously before coming to see him.
For the first time since she had approached him 'Stinger' stopped carring out his checks and looked at her. The two of them locked eyes and Melissa felt like she was being put on the spot. At that moment 'Walleye' had appeared behind 'Stinger' from inside the Raptor and stood quietly listening into what was going on.
"Do you want to know the truth?" asked 'Stinger'. Melissa was unsure whether he wanted an answer from her or not but she knew he was going to give her one. "In all likelihood more ships would just mean more targets for the Cylons to destroy. I know as CAG I should probably give you some rousing speech for you to go get 'em but I just..." 'Stinger' looked away as if searching for the words. They were buried rather deeply within his heart and no matter how hard he tried to retrieve them he could only scratch the surface of the shell that had formed inside him. It was a shell he had forced upon himself because it was the only way he could bring himself to give out the orders to his air wing and especially to those flying the 'perfect three'. "Just stay on the deck with the Chief." His words were more in a pleading fashion than an order as if he were trying to keep her safe.
Melissa suddenly felt a wave of guilt flow over her for pushing for an answer from him. She still had a desire to go on the mission but it was now subdued and she rather subserviently nodded before walking away. 'Stinger' sensed 'Walleye's presence as the two of them noticed that almost every eye on the deck was looking at them with a strong sense of pity for them.
"They think we're going to die!" uttered 'Walleye' to 'Stinger' as if he had just come to some ground shattering revelation.
"Don't you?" asked 'Stinger'.
"I guess so" said 'Walleye'. "But nobody is safe on this one. We're all going in."
"Yea but we're the ones with nukes strapped to our ass!"
"What's the matter boss?" asked 'Walleye' in a suddenly playful sort of way. "You want to live forever or something?"
The joke had broken the mood as 'Stinger' turned to his ECMO and replied, "It would be nice."
The truth was 'Stinger' had accepted that he may not come back from this one. That wasn't bothering him. What bothered him was the fact that he was giving the orders out to the pilots of the air wing. Even though he was simply relaying them from Bowman he still felt responsible for anything that may happen. He began to think he really wasn't cut out for the job of CAG. He was too emotionally involved with his people.
THE SERENA VALLEY
NORTHER TERRITORIES
CYLON OCCUPED SCORPIA
The silent and contaminated air that encompassed the small town of Pikeston since the day the colony fell to the Cylons was suddenly disturbed by a low rumble. The rumble grew louder and louder as it neared the small township. The trucks were forced slowed down as they entered the norrower streets of the town. The countryside roads leading into Pikeston were quite clear of abandoned cars and this allowed the drivers to maintain a quick pace across them. This was fortunate since they were at their most exposed on these roads. Speed was always going to be the key to success during this operation.
Adrastos seemed to brace himself up as the truck he was riding in at the front of the convoy trundled passed a dust covered road sign upon which the words 'Welcome to Pikeston' could just be made out. Rory Blake turned the large diameter steering wheel around to the left and began to apply the brakes thus slowing the truck as it rounded a bend that took it straight into the centre of town. It was in this town that D'Anna Biers had been killed and to return here had reignited the guilt he had felt regarding her death. She was supposed to be under his protection during the reconnaissance mission and he felt like he had failed her. Part of him thought it was ridiculous to think in such a way since in truth there was little he could have done to prevent what had happened but his emotions demanded he feel guilty anyway.
Rory was forced to slow down to a virtual snail's pace as he maneuvered the truck around several parked cars along the left hand side of the road. Once he had passed the first one and had enough clearance on either he applied the accelerator, jerking the truck forwards. The immense vehicle hissed and growled as it seemed to yank its trailer behind it. Adrastos looked in the passenger side rear view mirror to check on the progress of the truck behind them.
"Slow it down!" he suddenly bellowed to Rory gesturing downward with his left hand. Adrastos had seen that the driver in the truck behind them was being exceptionally cautious as he made his way passed the parked cars and with Rory's increased speed there was a widening rift emerging between the two articulated trucks.
"Oh for frak sake" grumbled Rory as he observed the driver behind them in his own driver's side mirror. Rory let his foot off the accelerator and his truck began to coast forward with decreasing speed. The truck behind them soon cleared the parked cars and began to surge towards them.
"Alright he's through!" said Adrastos who was still keeping his eyes on the passenger side mirror. "But spare the horses for a minute in case anyone else has the same trouble." Rory just nodded somewhat impatiently as the truck behind them caught up and they seemed to crawl through the ghost town. As the trucks continued onward it was not long before they reached the shop where Adrastos had left D'Anna's body sprawled up on a sofa. He had completely forgotten about the destroyed Centurion that lay strewn across the nearby alleyway, its red visual sensor now dark as its dead 'eye' watched the trucks pass the opposite end of the narrow side street. Adrastos peered through the broken shop window in a vain effort to see if D'Anna was still there in her resting place or if the Cylons had carted her body off to be incinerated. Looking between the shards of glass protruding from the window frame he couldn't make out if she was there or not. It was simply too dark and dusty inside.
"See anything you like?" joked Rory who had noticed that the shop window seemed to have the Marine Lieutenant's complete attention.
"Not exactly" uttered Adrastos as he returned to facing forwards now that the shop was out of view.
The convoy reached the end of town and Rory turned the truck onto yet another country road that linked Pikeston up to the nearby town of Enzo. With a long line of trucks in close formation behind them Rory opened the throttle once more to make up for the time lost in Pikeston. Like an enormous snake the convoy slithered onto the adjoining road and began to hurtle onwards in a southerly direction towards the stadium.
BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE
A diagram of the Battlestar Hermes laid across the Operations Desk as Captain Chloe Burmeister briefed Bowman on the preparations that had been carried out thus far. She had gone to the Commander with a list of recommendations as long as her arm to better prepare the Battlestar for going into combat. These recommendations all took into account the damage that the ship had thus far sustained.
Where the armour was now weakest the adjacent section was evacuated and sealed up. Then the atmosphere was drained out so that if the hull in that section was breached by enemy weapons fire then the resulting explosive decompression would be minimal. Removing whatever personnel, equipment or supplies that were in that compartment only served to worsen the already crowded space aboard the ship but it had to be done. The result was that several corridors were now littered with supply boxes and equipment. In some cases wall mounted computer components were ripped from their moldings within these high risk sections and left to lie on the corridor floor with their wires hanging from them.
To help improve the Battlestar's ability to sustain her firepower in battle, efforts were being made to repair several turrets that had been damaged. Like most Battlestars the Hermes bristled with twin barrel kinetic energy cannons. The problem for the Hermes was that much of its weapons had already been damaged and a single hit on a surviving turret could take out two cannons. Therefore Burmeister recommended that one cannon be removed from as many of the surviving turrets as possible and fitted to the repaired turrets. Thankfully the many parts aboard Hermes were designed to be interchangeable with other vessels in the field and this made the work easier. Although the actual firepower of the ship remained unchanged the number of operational turrets had been increased to eighty-five per cent of its peacetime number.
All these alterations, while necessary, served to reinforce the fact that the Hermes was not the proud warship it once was. It could no longer rely on brute force and the support of the Colonial Fleet to win battles. It was going to have to rely on cunning and outsmarting the enemy.
Burmeister was mid sentence regarding repair work the 'snipes' down in engineering had been working on when Major Adonia entered the CIC having just returned from the sickbay. He had in his hand a red clipboard with a document on the front from Dr. James Deveroux. Bowman knew what it was since he had asked the Major to retrieve it personally from their Chief Medical Officer.
Adonia stood beside Bowman and Burmeister before looking around to make sure that no one was in earshot. These three people, each from different backgrounds, shared one secret; they were the only ones aboard who were aware of the evolution of the Cylons from machines to organic beings. The only others were Adrastos and Callisto but they were on Scorpia.
"Here is the autopsy report" said Adonia in a low tone as he handed Bowman the clipboard.
"Anything?" asked the Commander.
"No! According to Deveroux there was nothing unusual about the body that we brought back from the Hellenic Traveler. Of course, he said that it would help if he knew what he was looking for" explained Adonia.
Bowman looked up from the chart, "You didn't say anything did you?"
"No!" replied Adonia firmly. "Of course not, sir."
"Good!" said Bowman whose eyes returned to the report on the clipboard.
"Sir?" asked Burmeister. "Are you implying that we can't trust Deveroux?"
"I'm not saying that at all, Captain" said Bowman who was reading over the notes on the piece of paper as if he were about to find something on there that the Doctor had missed. "What I am saying is that we have to be careful who we divulge this information to. I don't need to explain to you what would happen if it became public knowledge that the Cylons either look like us or have humans working for them. Or both!"
"Of course, sir" acknowledged Burmeister who suddenly had images of rioting in the overcrowded 'slum' because one person claimed another was a Cylon.
Finally convinced that the report could not help him in his search for uncovering possible Cylon infiltrators aboard his ship he handed the clipboard back to Adonia and asked, "What about our Marines guarding the civilians? Have they reported anything?"
"No sir" replied Adonia who was as equally frustrated as his Commander on this particular subject. Ever since he had heard from D'Anna Biers that there were human-Cylons he had found that sleeping comfortably as well as suffering from a mild dose of paranoia had become problems he had to contend with on a daily basis. "We've passed around pictures of the two women on the premise that they are the same person and are mentally ill. We've warned people not be approach them if they are seen anywhere on the ship and report it to security. So far nothing."
"Ok" said Bowman. "Keep trying!"
"Commander!" Chief Petty Officer Durand called out from the communications console. Bowman looked up in response to Durand. "Sir, message from the Hangar Deck. The Raptors are ready for departure."
"Very good" said Bowman handing the clipboard to Burmeister who then returned to her station. "Clear them for departure!"
"Yes sir" replied Durand who immediately began relaying the order.
Bowman looked up at the confusing readings from the DRADIS screen, an effect of being in the Erebus Belt. One by one the three Raptors, depicted as small dots appearing from the centre of the screen, departed the vessel and assumed a holding pattern around the Battlestar.
"Put me through to them!" said Bowman as he picked up the handset from the Operations Desk. "Raptors! This is Actual." There was a brief pause as he lowered his tone before continuing. Everyone in the CIC listened in as he spoke again. "I can't begin to imagine what's going through your minds as you are about to undertake this…this operation. The mission you are about to undertake is more than an attack upon the enemy that has savaged our worlds. This operation may determine our very survival. Now I'm not a religious man, as I'm sure you're all aware, but if there is a grand plan laid out for us by a higher power then I know that the people assembled here in this place and at this time are the right people. My confidence in each of you is unshakeable. And with that in mind all I have left to say is…start the clock and good hunting! Actual out."
Bowman hung up the handset on the Operations Desk as a digital clock appeared in the corner of every screen and began counting down from one hour.
One by one the three Raptors disappeared in a brilliant flash of light as their FTL drives engaged and took them to Scorpia in less than a second. They had an hour to find their respective Baseships because when the clock reached zero they had to attack.
The hopes of five thousand people aboard the Hermes now lay in six individuals on an apparent suicide mission.