BSG FanFic - Bree's Twin
Please note: I own no part of the Battlestar Galactica realm. This story is submitted for entertainment purposes only. Any similarities in names (other than specific BSG cast) are unintended. Any plot similarities to other FF stories are also unintended.
Reminder: I did not spend time making up names for common things; a soda is a soda, pop-tarts are pop-tarts, a pistol is a pistol, etc.
"I know we don't have Amber Select, but he doesn't know that, does he?"
Billy Roku, Captain and Pilot of the Yawl Cruiser, The Sails Call
Ecliptus City - Day of the Attack
Earlier that morning in the city of Ecliptus.
Mark Hawkins had started a shuttle run off-planet. His flight plan was submitted, he had his work with him, a sandwich because he would miss lunch, and two tickets to the Beckville Barracudas and the Togley Titans semi-final Pyramid match that evening. Mark was well-connected - the tickets were a gift and the seats were front-row. He was flying off-planet but he would be home before dinner and well before the match. That was the plan.
Mark was a production manager who some said was on the fast-track to senior management. He travelled often to orbiting facilities as a means of "keeping his finger on the pulse" of manufacturing and distribution. He loved the "sky-work". He loved sitting high above Caprica in the mornings, watching the world. He loved the silence and the solitude that preceded a busy, high-caliber workday.
Mark was no more than a minute in the air when the radio announced the attack. Cities went up in flames on all the horizons. Hundreds of thoughts went through his mind, but the foremost was of his family. There was no reason to believe the metropolitan center of Ecliptus, where he and his family lived, would be spared.
He chose to flee in that moment. He had a shuttle that could take him anywhere on the planet and out into space. But, he would not be alone. He skimmed low over the rooftops and dropped in on his family, right in front of the houses, in the middle of a street. Together, he and his wife Evvie, their daughter Emily, and their son Fletcher, escaped just before Ecliptus was struck and obliviated.
Mark chose the only option available to him. He turned the nose of the small craft upward and headed out to the dark. He caught up to a large, older-than-dirt, freighter named, "Bree's Twin". Others were trailing the freighter. All of them had the same thought - their small ships had limited oxygen and limited supplies. Their immediate survival rested on getting aboard bigger, long-voyage vessels.
Mark had experience working with and motivating people. Here before him, was a disarray of humanity in a ragtag fugitive fleet of shuttle and small craft. These people needed someone to step up. They needed a leader. He was a fast-thinker and good under pressure. He saw all challenges as opportunities. He would be that leader. And in doing so, he would ensure the safety of his family.
~~~~~/~~~~~
Bree's Twin - Converted Freighter
Day of the Attack
The portside lift thruster continued to misfire as Cru coaxed BREE'S TWIN up and away. The ship continued to rattle under the heavy strain of breaking gravity. Warning indicators flashed, and alarms rang out on the dashboard in front of Cru, but none were any he was concerned over. John joined Cru in the cockpit after the landing bay door closed and after he checked all the seals. He tried to reach his fiance, Lita, but network communications were still down, likely for good. The short-wave was overwhelmed with chatter.
"John, can you get the DRADIS working? I'm sure it's just the connector. I want to know what I'm looking at out here." Cru nodded towards the forward windows and the many ships in sight. "We're all civvy ships, I think, all trying to get away."
"These are civilians?" John stared blankly at the two dozen or so ships he could see before them and the long vaper trails of many more that were already star-side and gone.
Cru nodded. "They're mostly shuttlecraft, P2P-Jumpers, and light transports from what I can tell."
"They're short-range," added John. "They're out-and-back vehicles."
Cru nodded. "Yeah, they won't go very far under their own power."
John fiddled with the DRADIS connector while Cru fiddled with the engine tylium mix. Everything about the ship was manual, including finessing power out of the thrusters without the benefit of a modern computer.
John looked up from the troublesome DRADIS when he noticed the FTL panel was lit and ready for coordinate entry. "You've readied the FTL."
"Right, if the pan-heads show up, I'm gonna punch it."
"To the memorial? That's crazy. It's too short."
"No, we're going to use one of the standard calculations to get us out twenty hours or so."
"A commercial route? It might be crowded at the endpoint."
Cru pointed to an old tattered ledger with pages full of FTL calculations with their start and endpoints. "No, enter the one for Joules to Duplious. It's the one at the top, in black ink. It goes out to an old resort. It's abandoned, decompressed, and stripped of anything useful. There shouldn't be anyone there now."
John nodded and began punching in the coordinates. "I hope we don't need it. If this old battle-horse has one good jump left in her, I'd rather it not be out to the skeletal remains of past decadence."
Cru frowned. "Skeletal remains of past what?"
John shrugged. "I watched a documentary once - on the old Caprica elite and, you know, their decadence."
Cru nodded. "It's different now. We are at war. For rich or poor, we'll all be dead or refugees by the end of this day," said Cru with a sigh. "All the cubits in the worlds will not buy them a cup of water."
"Right," said John with another shrug.
"Anyway, we'll be in the jump zone just after we break atmo," continued Cru. "We'll have a look around when we get there. After that, we'll hard-burn to the memorial but we'll keep the book open in case we need to do a quick-calc jump."
John nodded his agreement with the plan. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, jumping, I mean."
Cru nodded.
John got the DRADIS working after straightening a bent pin in the faulty connector. Like everything else aboard the TWIN, the DRADIS needed to"warm-up before it worked. When the screen flipped on and steadied, thirty-two ship transponders displayed.
"All ours?" asked Cru.
"Yeah, unless the Cylons are copying them."
"Let's hope not."
John paused and made some tuning adjustments. "Hey Cru, I've got about a dozen of them showing in our wake."
"Really?"
"Yeah, hang on."
John flipped a switch. The nearest monitor should have displayed a view from one of the aft cameras. The monitor worked, but the camera didn't. He flipped other switches until he found one that did.
Out behind the ship, ten small vessels trailed after BREE'S TWIN. Cru and John exchanged looks. Cru turned on the bridge radio.
"...I say again, Bree, this is Yawl Cruiser, TR64, The Sails Call. Can we board when we break atmo? I'll make it worth your while."
"A yawl cruiser?" said Cru. "It would seem that the Caprican elite has found us."
"Right, he's a cruising yacht - real fancy," said John. He pointed to the monitor and the sleek, shiny, streamlined ship showing just off their port side and back a bit. "He's lined up with our docking port like he's frakking guarding it."
"The docking port doesn't work," said Cru.
"I know it doesn't work. Should I tell him that?"
Cru shrugged, He knew what was happening. These small P2P shuttles had limited fuel and oxygen. To survive, their occupants would have to transfer to a bigger ship with water, reclamations, and supplies. They needed a bigger ship like BREE'S TWIN.
Just then, "Bree's Twin, this is the Shefterfield. We have children aboard! Please let us dock!" The voice was a woman in a near panic.
Followed by, "Bree's Twin! This is Anchia Shuttle DRD12. We have children too. You have to let us dock first. We have under an hour of O2 left."
Cru clicked on the mic. "People, this is Bree's Twin. It's an old ship we have here. The docking port hasn't worked in years. It won't seal."
"Then how are you flying?" It was the cruising yacht's captain.
Cru frowned. It was no one's business but his own. "It's closed and locked down," he replied. "It can't be opened star-side. It'll blow. I have a welding team ready when this all settles down, when our leaders hash it out with theirs, and we all go home."
There was a long pause in the radio traffic.
"Bree's Twin, there's no going back. The Cylons won't stop. They're hitting all the planets. They mean to wipe out the entire human race."
"We don't know that," replied Cru, "I'm sure we'll negotiate terms or something."
"We've already surrendered to them unconditionally, I heard it ten minutes ago," said the pilot of the ANCHIA shuttle, "and the missiles keep coming."
"A news bulletin went out over the wire," said another pilot. "It was repeating over and over, but now it's gone. 'To all citizens, wherever you are, take shelter where you can. Humanity must survive. Humanity must live. Gods protect our people' - Something like that."
"If I may," said a firm voice over the others. It was Mark. "Let us get past the here and now. We need to survive the moment. Bree's Twin, if you are willing, let us set up an organized transfer from these small vessels to your own. We all pray for a swift end to hostilities, but we have to be prepared for a long stay. We will need to organize what supplies we have. I can start working with the other pilots on taking an inventory. Gods willing, none of this will be needed and we will all return home to whatever remains."
Cru paused as the radio channel burst with more calls to him and BREE'S TWIN.
After a long, thoughtful moment, Cru clicked on the mic again.
"People, people, we still can't help any of you without the docking port. We are heading to the Tobuku Memorial. Meet us there and we'll figure this out." Cru paused. "Oh, and someone find me a maintenance rig to rendezvous with us. Maybe they can fix the port or cut a new one. That's the best I got." Cru released the mic and turned to John. "That'll give them something to do."
"Put 'em to work, boss-man," said John with a nod.
"That works for me, Bree," said the yacht captain. "We'll find you a maintenance crew. Oh, and I've got a bottle of Ambrosia Amber Select waiting for you."
"Sails Call," said Cru, "how about you take on those people with the low O2. You do that, and you can be first aboard."
After a pause. "Sure, Bree, we'll do it."
Cru turned down the cabin radio volume as the chatter began anew.
"He called me 'Bree', twice. I'm not sure I like that."
John smiled. "Amber Select? They got better booze than us, Bree," said John.
"Better, sure," replied Cru with a half-smile. "But I bet we got more of the basic labels."
John nodded. "Yeah, we got like thirty cases."
~~~~~/~~~~~
"John, how about you push that dirt and whatever's useful out of the landing bay and into the shop," said Cru after a long moment of silence. "Push it up as far as you can. Oh, and get Lita on the short-wire somehow. Make sure she knows where we are headed. Tell her about the old resort, too, just in case we have to run. Encrypt it if you can. These Cylons have me nervous. They're probably listening to all of this."
"Okay, but my note to her said to go small on a shuttle. Anything she's flying won't go that far."
Cru nodded. The whole population of Caprica, many billions, was either dead, hiding, or trying to get off-planet. Lita was either at the memorial or she was gone to John. Lita was a tough, confident, "I got your back" kind of lady with light comic sarcasm and an inclusive way about her. If she was not at the memorial, she would be well-missed by both men.
John turned and took several steps towards the back, before stopping.
"Cru?" said John.
"Yeah," said Cru without looking.
"Let's say we get a new docking port, in-flight, by a maintenance team that may or may not exist out here."
"Yeah?"
"How many of these folks are you planning to take on?"
"We have a lot of good air in the ship-" started Cru.
"It's breathable. I wouldn't call it 'Good'," interrupted John.
"Right, it's 'breathable'," said Cru with a nod. The ship smelled like an old ship, oily and mildewy, and a sense of long slow decay. "Life-Support can manage only eight people - that's with O2 scrubbing, water reclamation, and human waste."
"Human waste? You mean human crap?"
Cru nodded. "We could fit more than a hundred people in all the empty spaces, I think, but anything after eight adults is a losing cycle. Our air slowly fills with carbon dioxide. We run out of water. Our honey-pot overfloweth."
"So, all these people who want to board...?"
"Let's get your fiancé first, and her son, right? And, whoever else she brings," said Cru. "After that, we've got twenty years of spare parts, wall to wall, in Hold Four. I'm sure we can make something work. We have to. No choice."
John nodded and ran back to the landing bay. There was so much work to be done and so little time to do it.
Cru studied the DRADIS looking for Cylons. He wondered if the antiquated device would show them on the screen or if the Cylons had a way to hide their signatures. He watched the monitors and out the windows. BREE'S TWIN was ten long minutes away from the furthest edge of Caprica's atmosphere, which was plenty of time to be blown out of the sky and back to the ground in tiny pieces.
~~~~~/~~~~~
BREE'S TWIN cleared the Caprican airspace with no issues other than avoiding high-speed debris from destroyed satellites. Eighteen light craft joined Cru and BREE'S TWIN on their way to the Tobuku Memorial. The yawl Cruiser, SAILS CALL, sped out ahead looking for a maintenance vessel. They were fifteen minutes away from the memorial and could see from DRADIS that Lita was not there. They were intercepted by Sharon "Boomer" Valerii who ordered them to the rallying point with newly ordained President, Laura Roslin. William "Billy" Roku, the captain of the SAILS CALL cruiser was still in radio distance and further secured his place aboard the TWIN with a promise to wait at the memorial for Lita and bring her back. The colonial raptor pilot, Boomer, agreed to him staying thirty minutes at the memorial before he too must burn hard to the rallying point.
~~~~~/~~~~~
"Lita!" shouted John into the radio mic, "thank the High Ones you are here!"
Cru and John could see SAILS CALL escorting a small shuttle from a distance out. The DRADIS tag indicated "Pellery Corporation" who Lita's father did part-time work for.
"John, dearest honey, lov'm munchkins, we are running on fumes and breathing dead air, and we'd love it, oh so much, if you'd open your ass-end flannel-flap."
"Flannel-flap"? Asked Cru with a smile. He noted the instant change over John. Lita could brighten a room with her entrance. She could do the same to John over a radio and at long hailing distance.
"It's old sleeping pajamas," said John in a fluster. "They had a buttoned flap in back so you could...oh nevermind." John dropped the mic and ran the full length of the ship to the back-side landing bay.
"He's opening the bay door now," said Cru. "It's good to see you, Lita. Glad you made it."
"Good to see you too, Cru. Close calls the whole way. Is it really the end of the worlds?"
"As much as I know. That's the chatter. The Cylons won't take a surrender. They're hitting every city, small to large."
"Where's the Navy?"
"Gone."
"Gone-gone? I don't believe it. That's a hundred and fifty battlestars and a thousand other warships."
"Yeah, I know."
There was a long pause before either spoke.
"Okay, well, we had no time to pack," said Lita at last. "You'd better have something that will fit me. I'm not gonna swim in John's clothes."
Cru laughed. "John's got nothing - none of his gear. You'll all be wearing my khakis and the shop uniform shirts."
"Nice," Lita replied with a laugh. "Very classy."
~~~~~/~~~~~
In the stern. John stood behind the secondary wall and pulled out the air from the landing bay. Everything creaked with the heavy pressure change. He started the bay door opening and as it groaned through its motions, he remoted the retrieval boom down and out. He might only get one chance at grabbing Lita's shuttle if she was out of fuel and adrift.
~~~~~/~~~~~
"BREE'S TWIN, it was a pleasure helping you out," said William Roku, captain of the SAILS CALL over the ship-to-ship radio. "But, I will be boarding 'Colonial One', the new President's ship. I am sure you understand."
"Understood, Captain. Again, thanks for bringing my people in."
Roku didn't reply. He had already moved on.
"Probably best," said Cru to no one. He clicked the intercom button. "Lov'm Munchkins, how are we doing back there? Is the door up?"
There was a panel light that was supposed to indicate when the bay door was open or closed. It had done nothing but flicker since lift-off.
"Almost," replied John. He fully expected to be called "Lov'm Munchkins'' for much of the foreseeable future.
"Lita, who do you have with you?" asked Cru over the S2S. "You have Kevin, right? I can see someone next to you."
"Kevin is with me and my mom and dad."
"Good to know - tell Kevin he'll need to be my co-pilot. John can't fly."
"Can't fly? What am I?" asked Lita, "chopped asparagus?"
Cru laughed.
"Alright Cru, we gotta go dark - we are seriously on bingo fuel. I'll need everything I got for the landing."
"Okay, Cru out."
"Later," said Lita.
"Bingo fuel," said Cru to himself as he smiled. Lita was a pilot in the military, as was Cru. Lita was older than Cru and flew Raptors years before Cru's service. The two never met until she had landed a medium commercial cruise-liner next to his shop for light repairs.
Cru switched back to the intercom. "John, when they're on board and you're done saying your hellos, we need to take others on, so push her bird away with the boom and make room for them. Someone named 'Roslin' is the new president. Orders from 'Colonial One' are to take on people from the non-FTLs. I expect there will be a line forming. I'm prepping for an FTL jump. We are headed to the Ragnar Anchorage."
"Copy that, boss."
~~~~~/~~~~~
Cru punched in the coordinates for the anchorage. He worked through the pre-jump checks. He checked the DRADIS often. There were too many ships to count.
"Bree's Twin, this is Colonial One."
"Go ahead, Colonial One," said Cru.
"Bree's Twin, we will be taking inventory of all the ships' supplies, starting this evening, Caprica City time. Please be ready to receive the inventory team when they arrive."
"Will do, Colonial One. Be advised, we have no working dock port. Entry is by way of the landing bay only. I lose a lot of atmo opening it up."
"Understood, Bree's Twin. "
"On that subject, if you have a maintenance rig, my docking port should not be too hard to fix, but probably needs to be done from the outside."
"Copy, Bree's Twin. We have a maintenance list started and are prioritizing repairs."
"Okay, thank you Colonial One."
"Colonial One out."
Cru thought to himself, "we are at the end of the worlds and I'm stuck on a damn maintenance list. He thought about all the items he had in storage. BREE'S TWIN butted up to his maintenance shop and the attached convenience store. He had most of the inventory in storage. Many items would be handy to keep, food being one of them. Cru wasn't above sharing - he had boxes and boxes of an over-the-counter pharmacy with non-prescription pain-killers, cough syrups, antacids, ointments, and many others - which was more than he would ever use. He had bandages, splints, and braces - again more than he would ever use. His thoughts were left at that.
"All ships. The Cylons have located us. We are under Imminent threat. FTL jump to your given coordinates, as soon as you are able! I say again, make your FTL jumps as soon as you are able!"
"John get them inside!" shouted Cru over the intercom. "We gotta bug out!"
"Copy that, Boss!"
Once all the prep work was done, engaging the FTL engines, on older ships, was a simple push of a button. Cru's finger hovered over that button while he clicked through camera monitors with the other hand.
"John, let's go!" shouted Cru.
"FRAK!" shouted John. His intercom was still on. "No! No! No! No!"
"John, what's up?"
Cru felt the ship tremble through the floor grating, the kind of tremble a heavy ship gives when it is struck by a small shuttlecraft. "Did she crash it? It doesn't need to be textbook. Just get her on board!"
"Cru, somebody just pushed in front of her and crashed into the frakking wall. I'm looking at him right now!"
"What!?"
"I had her on the boom, Cru, and this frak-wad blew right past her!"
"Get him out!" shouted Cru. "Use the boom!"
"I can't! The boom was ripped away! It's attached to Lita and she's drifting out!"
"Tell her to use-" Cru interrupted himself and switched on the S2S. "Lita, use the docking port on the port side. Just clamp onto it. We'll take you with."
"Cru," said Lita. Her voice was strained. "We're out of fuel, the final approach was maneuvering thrusters only. They're all spent."
"Frak!" Cru flipped back to the intercom. "John, anything?"
"Nothing. Hang on, I'll try to hook him and drag him to the door with the overhead winch. I might need you to shut off the gravity and pull forward."
"I like what you're thinking, John. Toss him the frak out."
"Right."
"Okay, but I also need to swing over the ass-end. Lita's got no fuel. We'll have to back up to her"
"Copy that," said John.
Their hasty plan failed moments later when the Cylons re-appeared.
"John, we got inbound," shouted Cru. "Get the bay door down now! We gotta go. We'll come back for Lita."
"What?" shouted John over the intercom. "No, we're not leaving her!"
"We have no choice!" Cru switched to the S2S radio. "Lita, you need to go total dark. Pretend you're debris."
"I'm not liking the sound of that, Hon," replied Lita with a quiver in her voice. "Is there no getting that frakking interloper out of the way?"
"There's no time - he's crashed it. We'll come back, I promise. Just go dark and play dead, okay."
There was a long pause.
"Lita?"
"We'll try it, Cru, but if this goes bad, you take care of John for me. Alright? I love that man."
"We can make this work. I've done far greater things with a lot less."
Lita chuckled. "You flatter yourself, Cru, but no, just do it - take care of John. This will be hard for him. He'll never find someone like me, again." Lita gave another light chuckle. "He got lucky and he knows it."
Cru smiled. Lita was a good woman for John. She was funny. She gave him purpose and direction.
"I'll do that, Lita."
"Thanks."
~~~~~/~~~~~
John could not get the wrecked shuttlecraft out of the landing bay and it prevented the bay door from closing, which locked out the ability to FTL jump.
"John, I need you up here!" Cru shouted over the intercom.
"I'm here," said John as he bounded onto the ship's bridge. "Where is she at?"
"She's aft on the port side."
"What do we do now?" asked John. His voice belied a man in anguish. "Help me, Cru."
"We have to come back and get her. I need you to take this-" Cru handed him a large, old and tattered, service manual. "I need you to find the disable code for the bay door lock-out. We're stuck here until we can override it.
"Don't you know it?"
"How would I know it?" snapped Cru with a raised voice. "We haven't flown in five years and up until two minutes ago, the gods-damned door worked just fine."
John didn't respond as he fell into the co-captain's chair.
"John! I need you to do this. John!"
Lights on the console lit up. A warning buzzer sounded.
"Incoming missiles...," said Cru. His mouth fell open. "We're too late."
Many ships jumped away at that moment. Many ships did not.
"I hope you people rot in hell for this!" was the last thing Cru heard from the radio as missiles struck their targets.
Cru spun the TWIN hard over on its side and used the one good front lift thruster to move the ship's bow in front of Lita's small shuttle. Cru knew it was a fool's gesture. They were sitting on two million gallons of B-Grade Tylium fuel and one hundred and forty-four thousand tons of powdered tylium ore. When the missile hit, the resultant explosion would likely be seen from the next galaxy over.