Commander Apollo and Captain Brie were both watching the exercises on the main view screen as the two Cobras were slowly changing their courses to vector in on a possible target. The announcement of a change in routine was what had caught Brie's attention in the first place. She had seen this before when normally a Viper would attempt to catch a cloaked Klingon ship trying to evade detection. Inwardly, she loved the idea of a cloaking system for the Galactica and other capitals ships but they would have to see if the Klingons would agree to this. In any case, she smiled grimly because the Vipers and Cobras were getting good at detecting them.
"I believe we have ourselves another victim," she snickered. "I love these detection units. If the Cylons come, we'll be ready."
"I hope so," Apollo countered. "But I'll be happier when the Pegasus comes back. I keep imagining a dozen of those Basestars homing in on us."
"You have such evil thoughts," she countered, her voice shuttering at the thought of something like that occurring. Their production units must be frightening."
This was one of the sticking points that the Colonials and their allies had. At maximum output, the production rates of the Cylons were efficient enough to produce a Basestar and a support compliment every six days. If they didn't go on offensive soon, they never would.
"Cobra's One and Thirteen have fired their tachyon bursts. I believe they got 'em."
Casually, the bridge crew watched as the light-particle bursts hit their target, another successful simulation.
As one, the entire crew was stunned as the outline of a Basestar less than twenty thousand kilometers appeared before their eyes. A micron later, the Battlestar Galactica went on full alert status. The two Cobras had launched at least twelve solonite missiles at their target, which exploded into view and now attempted to vaporize its tormentors. At the same time it launched two warheads at the Galactica and two more at Voyager preferring-for the moment- to ignore everything else in the vicinity.
Apollo and Brie instantly screaming orders as the missiles homed in on them.
"Can we evade-?"
"No way-!"
The Battlestar Galactica's shields had snapped on the instant sensors detected the missiles coming towards them and the ship itself began moving just as the projectiles hit. Space blazed white as they impacted on the ship's powerful defensive screens. The ship rocked while gunners began returning fire on the second Basestar.
Already Vipers were being ejected from the Battlestar under the protective umbrella of the extended shields. The updated Colonial protector turned and fired its primary disrupters for the first time in anger.
AUSER SYSTEM THE ROMULAN LINE OF DEFENSE:
The Command ship Perarrsah laid in ruins, a victim of two high-energy blasts from an Extreme-class' disrupter bank. From a crew of twelve hundred, there were seventy-two survivors including its Commander Tomalak. The arrival of several more Cylon assault ships, which succeeded in flanking the Ninth Fleet, had torn through their ranks threatening the entire defense operation. Only the arrival of the Klingons had turned the tide from certain defeat to something of a victory. The Romulan Empire was still alive and fighting well enough to survive.
Squadrons of Klingon warships of all various types swarmed over Hellions and Cylon support ships. The new weaponry carried by the larger battleships effectively overcame defensive shielding thereby making the enemy vulnerable. Several Hellions blew spectacularly, taking many of the guard ships along with them in the process.
However, the Cylons returned as well as they got. When anti-proton disrupters collided with Klingon shielding, usually that shielding ceased to exist. The smaller Raiders and H-Ks had a slight advantage over both Romulan and Klingon Bird-of-preys because of their initial overall lack of cooperation. All of that changed when a small group of ships were cut apart as they each fought independently, got cut off and were destroyed.
Spectre watched the entire scene with a look that could be only described as cold. The energy spikes swirling in its black oblong head had increased each time a Hellion was destroyed. It found the loss of contact with its fellow Cylons who 'no longer were' disturbing. The second Klingon fleet would arrive within the centar and the filthy organics might forestall the inevitable. This was the prescribed time that the Cylon Empire had waited for. It signaled Gold leader Yuall to begin.
"By the command," it said.
Yuall's Basestar, the Turrent accompanied by seven additional Basestars broke away, heading directly for the Romulan homeworld of Remus.
Spectre sent its report to the Imperious Leader.
"We will draw the fleet to Remis," it transcieved. "Proceed with the activation, as is your wish."
"The Supreme Imperium has given the command," the Imperious Leader said over the comms. "The activation has begun."
THE KATASI SYSTEM:
By the command of the supreme Imperium, the subspace gateway located three hundred miles above the remains of the planet Katasi activated, realigning itself as it built its power up slowly. The transmitter, composed of duotronium-neutronium alloys was two point three seven kilometers in diameter and perfectly circular in shape. It was designed as a three ringed structure by which the internal ring structure had now started rotating quickly. The device itself was anchored in place by artificial gravity stabilizers connected by power shunts emanating from the planets surface, themselves drawing stability from the planet's core. Twelve structures, large enough to seen from orbit, had been built in hexagon formations. These were power transmitters, which shunted and regulated the massive storage batteries that were now discharging their energies into the gateway essentially giving the device the device the jumpstart needed to open the subspace conduit.
The planet itself suffered massive earthquakes with cracks in the mantle large enough to be seen from orbit. Within two minutes, hundreds of miles around space glowed as a tight beam distortion wave of raw subspace energy swept through the nebula towards it final destination at the speed of transwarp fifteen.
The first thing that Joliet recognized about Cylon targeting was that they never missed a target that wasn't evading like the preverbal 'Earth' bat out of hell. Everywhere she had been, an instant later a beam the size of her Cobra swept through that area. Two of her missiles had hit dead center, point-blank, and for a few moments, the Hellion had almost seemed to specifically target her and Cobra One to the exclusion to all-else. Both she and Boxey were moving close to light speed; anything less and they might as well simply be sitting targets.
The Hellion's cloaking system had been obviously damaged and one docking bay had been rendered useless by the twelve missile strikes of multi-megaton weaponry. A full third of the ship was destroyed, and now hundreds of Cylon fighters were spilling out towards the Galactica and Mariposa. On top of that a second Basestar materialized and spilled out its own fighters. The USS Voyager had gone to warp to escape two very large missiles chasing it and even then, they were in the process of being run down.
The instant the two Cobras cleared the immediate danger zone, they returned into thick of the largest battle Joliet ever seen. It reminded her of the stories that they used to hear about during the Colonial wars. Ships were everywhere; The Galactica's entire Viper squadron had joined the fray along with Federation and the remaining two Klingon warships.
Lieutenant Tom Paris jinxed the Federation starship with a movement that was never intended for an Intrepid-class ship in order to evade the two missiles homing in on them. Successful, the starship Voyager accelerated to maximum warp while the two smart Cylon missiles kept up with it trying to get into range close enough to detonate themselves and take the fleeing vessel with it. Each one carried a directed antimatter-solonite warhead equal to that of a forty-megaton nuclear warhead. Not even with it's enhanced shielding and ablated armor given to them by a future Admiral Janeway would resist that kind of direct strike.
"Lock phasers on those missile and see if we can detonate them," Janeway snapped, eternally grateful that Tom was at the helm. He'd proven himself a gifted pilot over the seven years that they had been trapped in the Delta quadrant and now he was proving that those experiences had forged that gift to a fine edge. The way he was evading those missiles now was a testament to that fact and the added incentive of having his wife and child onboard made him focus that much more.
"Phasers locked," Kim responded.
"Fire."
Twin beams of phased energy hit both missiles squarely. The energy was reflected away from the missiles by their personal shielding. Janeway grimaced at the sight but she knew nothing was ever easy and in truth, she'd half expected her attack to fail in the first place. From now on no more phasers for this battle, she promised. Quickly she readjusted her strategy.
"Arm the quantum torpedoes and lock on to those missiles."
"That last maneuver Tom made bought us some time," Kim announced. "But they'll run us down in twenty seconds. We're having trouble locking onto the missiles. They have some type of scattering screen that I'm trying to punch through now."
"Hurry, Mr. Kim."
"Yes, Ma'am." He was indeed hurrying with his configurations of the targeting systems. "I'm setting the torpedoes for close proximity strikes."
"Do it."
A moment later, twelve quantum torpedoes leaped from the rear launch tube of Voyager. The Cylon missiles attempted to evade but were unable to because of their close proximity.
For a second, Voyager was rocked by the explosion and space blossomed with light. But the starships shielding had held and already the ship was returning to the battle.
"No more phasers," she murmured. The Klingons weren't the only ones with new weapons technology. Loudly: "set a course for that second Cylon warship. It's time to return the favor."
"Course set."
"Engage."
The Battlestar Galactica rotated quickly on its three-dimension axis bringing its main weapons to bear on the first Cylon Hellion. The damaged Basestar, recognizing the imminent threat of the Colonial Carrier continued to fire its anti-proton beams at the ship, trying futilely to overwhelm its force fields. It was clear that the Commander onboard the Basestar has miscalculated the Battlestar's defensive capabilities. Now, all four of its main weapons batteries were trying to incinerate the Galactica. Given time it could do it but time was something that it didn't have. Already severely damaged, it was endeavoring to seek shelter from the second Hellion and a wall of Cylon fighters.
That wasn't working out as well as it hoped for, Apollo mused, as Colonial and Federation ships weaved in and out, passed one another in their savage death dances with the Cylon fighters. He actually smiled as he sub-consciously compared this attack with the brutal attack by a lone Hellion so many months ago. But for right now he'd let that go. Only the battle mattered now. The Galactica's main beam weapons had locked onto the Basestar, microns ago with a range that was further than anything he could have imagined possible until recently.
"How are their shields?"
"Non-existent," the scanners officer said. "But their armor is still resistant against most of the smaller weapons fire."
It was a testament to the armors efficiency and thickness that the ship was still in one peace after the blistering attack by the two Cobras who hit it when their shields were down due to the cloak.
"Use the lasers, dual set," he said quickly, deciding to test the new systems potential. "Fire when ready."
"Firing."
The new laser system, designed with the same specifications in mind that the Borg used on the Enterprise-D in twenty-three sixty-five, was a development by Colonial scientists whose understanding in laser weapons technology far exceeded the Federation's. The secret lay in the Aeriana gemstone discovered in the second year of the great exodus. It had been found in the remains of a long cooled supernova explosion, which the Galactica fleet had hidden from the Cylon fleet chasing it. Aeriana apparently possessed a self-generating power matrix, which was a source of considerable debate between Federation scientists as to whether it was living or not.
Used as a focusing unit for the laser batteries, the overall power output was increased by almost thirty fold. The problem lay with the efficiency of the energy containment units constructed by the Colonial scientists, which were not sufficient to handle the power generated. Federation technology involving energy containment seemed to have solved the problem or so the simulations said. A force-ten shield supplemented the containment unit when firing the weapons.
The twin, dual, pure white shaft of energy shot out of the main weapons array of the Galactica as a series of hi-intensity pulses, over two thousand per second, hitting the unprotected, unshielded Basestar like a sledge hammer smashing an egg. The pulses melted their way through re-enforced armor and continued out the other side of what was left of the vessel. There was a quick image of the Cylon warship simply falling apart before it exploded spectacularly.
The results were like nothing he or the crew expected.
"My Lord," Apollo whispered. "I like it."
For an instant it seemed as the entire battle had stopped to witness the destruction. Three seconds later, the laser system in the Galactica shorted out and the entire laser array turned into slag as the containment system failed. However, that didn't matter to the Cylons. It became instantly apparent that the smaller Cylon fighters were now starting to avoid the Galactica.
The Galactica's weapons crew quickly switched to the main weapons, the powerful phase disruptors and began to close in on the second fully prepared Hellion when a third Basestar De-cloaked and began hammering the Galactica's port side shields.
"It's an Extreme!" Apollo yelled. "Full evasive!"
Captain William Riker stifled a yawn as he sat in the command chair of the USS Melbourne.
For the last two weeks his ship had been on patrol between Deep space Twenty-three and the Mariposa systems. True, he understood the purpose of the patrols and the continual shakedown of his ship, which in fact was just about ready for full service. Most of the bugs and minor problems had been corrected, the crew acclimated to this ship and personally he loved being in command. It wasn't the Enterprise, but it was something better. He could shape this ship and crew according to his dream. But right now it was boring. No, he corrected. It was frustrating. His wife, Deanna was on the Enterprise, while he was on the far edge of the patrol route.
There was a very large war developing on right outside that imagined bubble of safety most people had. Another war, coming just after that disastrous Dominion conflict. But this was different; he could feel it. There was something raw here, not unlike the ancient accounts of two species trying to annihilate one another-organic versus inorganic, heavy metal against biological profundity. Most wars were foolish, but this one was-strangely orchestrated, almost like someone else was pulling the strings.
Ensign Cowrin the communications bridge officer spoke.
"Captain, DS twenty-three just went on priority one alert and the Singtow has signaled us that it's heading for Mariposa. Communications there have been cut off, sir."
Riker's tiredness left instantly.
"For how long?"
"According to Deep Space Twenty-three, about ten minutes, sir."
"I want deep scans on Mariposa," he said. To his helmsman: "Plot an emergency course to Mariposa. Red alert."
Like himself, the entire crew's attitude changed instantly. They were young, but ready. He hoped that he wouldn't lead them to their deaths. Overconfidence was one trait too many Captains experienced lately, and the toll had been great. For all intents and purposes at forty something he was new 'the old man of command.'
"I am reading weapons fire. A lot of it, sir."
That was not good.
"Helmsman engage. Emergency warp," he ordered quickly. He turned to Corwin and issued more orders.
"Tell DS Twenty three of our status. Weapons fire confirmed. We are heading for Mariposa, now. "
Aye, sir."
The USS Voyager decelerating violently, back into the Mariposa system, locked onto the nearest Basestar and fired its weaponry. The modified quantum-trans-phasic torpedoes ripped a hole large enough for the Voyager could have flown into if they'd wanted to. Then Captain Janeway ordered the energy weapons to rake the ship. The Hellion's shields held barely as it returned fire on the tiny, fast moving Federation starship, which was now being aided by a Klingon Bird-of-prey. The Basestars weaponry began fully concentrating its focus on Voyager.
Janeway said nothing as Voyager continued to return fire. Among the Federation, Voyager was the first of a new, unique group of Starfleet ships, a result of existing seven years trapped in the Delta quadrant. Small as she was, she was also one of the most powerful ships in the fleet with third generation cascading ablated armor and multi-phasic torpedoes, both designed specifically with the Borg in mind and acquired from the future, no less. Then, as with several of the newer starships like the Melbourne and the newly upgraded Enterprise-E, beam weapons had been upgraded from phasers to the new standard. This new array standard was called the isomagnetic disintegrator, far more powerful than the hottest phaser beams, which was now considered coming to end of its performance capabilities. As phasers were to laser weaponry, so was the IMD to phasers. The technology was still in its infancy, but baring unforeseen complications, all Federation starships were to be upgraded in the near future. Phasers would still be used but as the IMD technology progressed, the old standby would begin its journey into obsolescence.
The energy beams ravaged the Hellion's shields. In response, the Cylon warship returned fire with every thing it had. It and the Cylons understood that Janeway was on that ship and it would do whatever was demanded to destroy her. The master had ordered it.
ROMULUS:
For the first time ever in the history of the Romulan Empire, the planetary defensive systems were being fired in anger against actual intrusions by an enemy force. Of the eight Basestars that had broken way from the main fighting, five had survived the Romulan-Klingon assaults while hundreds of attack craft were swarming through the outer rim, destroying everything in the outer edges of the system. Several small stations, communications networks and military establishments had been obliterated. The casualness of the destruction made it clear that the Cylons were intent on a mission of genocide. Three planet-cracker missiles aimed at Romulus had gotten close enough to send shockwaves cascading into the fifth planet, a gas giant. The ages-old cloud cover was disrupted, producing concentric rings of swirling angry colors.
The fighting was melee of unbridled destruction and death. The combined defensive fleet consisting of the second Klingon incursion fleet and elements of the Ninth Romulan attack task force, suffered terrible losses coming up directly against the Extremes. Twenty percent of the forces involved were gone. But the Cylons suffered as well against the new plasma class energy weapons the Klingons were now employing. All of the surviving Basestars with the exception of the Turrent had suffered significant damage. A wing of Cylon Raiders commanded by a Gold Leader targeted a Klingon heavy cruiser, burned through their shields and vaporized the ship before help could arrive a few seconds later. Seven Raiders and a H-K were caught in crossfire and obliterated. A Romulan Bird-of-prey's shields were overpowered, its crew transported away into an Extreme class for interrogation and extermination. A Hellion was hit with multiple Klingon plasma beams, which overwhelmed shields and cut the vessel in half destroying it and several friendly vessels too close to the exploding debris.
Gold leader Yuall counted the down the microns to the withdraw activation. According to plan the main Cylon fleet were now executing a withdrawal from hostilities while the diversionary fleet, its fleet, redouble its efforts to destroy Romulus. Already a large element of the Romulan-Klingon fleet were straight line vectoring towards them intent on deactivating all of its members in a violent orgy of organic-obsessed destruction. Yuall gave the command to fire all missiles at the planet's surface. It had been calculated that none of them would reach their destination, but then that was the entire point. The Cylon Gold Leader continued its countdown even as another of its Basestars melted into slag.
The retreating enemy vessels now under the command of Lord Spectre continued the straight-line retreat losing many of the class-two Raiders in the process. Those ships, slightly modified remnants of the old existence were unimportant. They were simply a distraction for that which was to come. It hated running but what was coming would make no distinction between organics or inorganic. It would not be prudent to remain in the area.
Boxey watched distractedly as a Cylon Hunter-Killer blew another Viper II into ash, less than a metric from his ship. A micron later two Vipers and an Adder ripped into a cluster of Cylon fighters decimating the entire group. But the big battle was between the Galactica, Voyager and Melbourne and the third armored Hellion Basestar. Even with the optical dimmers on full, none of the crew could even look in that general direction. That was a battle for the big ships, something he couldn't concentrate on as he dodged yet another attack from twin H-Ks trying to punch holes in his ship. The smaller Cylon ships were clearly avoiding Mariposa's surface and for obvious reasons. The surface defensive batteries hadn't allowed any enemy ships within fifteen hundred metrics to survive the experience, so that was one less thing to worry about.
His missiles were long gone but the disrupters were doing the job. But there were so many of them that periodically, his people missed one. hat was all it took, evidence provided as another Cobra burst apart when a Cylon Raider slipped a disrupter pulse through its shield grid. The Cylons thought they could sneak in by surprise and have it all in one shot. The Colonials and others had been surprised. But they got over it and now gave as good as they got.
"Joliet," he yelled in the comms, shutting out the loud din inside his ship. "One of the Adders got itself separated. The H-Ks are trying to kill it."
"Understood," she said. "I'm on your tail."
The two Cobras and microns later, three more, arced around to help their partner get out of situation it had found itself in.
The Adder-class Colonial destroyer, manned by a relatively inexperienced crew, was fighting back for all it were worth. Normally an assault group consisted of two Adders, and four Vipers and two Cobras running escort. The group covered all the inherent weaknesses of each class ship, together formed a formidable opponent. A particularly vicious Cylon attack squad had separated Adder Twelve from the survivors of its assault group.
It was Boxey's intention that it continued to survive, which was apparently the crew's desire as well, judging by the intensity of the firepower coming from the rotating quad heavy disrupters.
"Adder Twelve, we're coming," Boxey called through the radio. "Everybody, on my mark- let's clear this area," he yelled into the comms. "Fire!"
All five of the Cobras and Adder twelve fired a massive burst, and an entire squadron caught unawares, turned into flaming wreckage. The Adder streaked away, rejoining its group.
"That's the way-"
BAM!
An instant later, Boxey tasted blood, which dripped from his throbbing forehead. His eyes were blurred from the smoke rapidly filling the cockpit and the wound itself. Boxey looked around, eyes blurred and caught sight of his engineer, his neck twisted at an odd angle. Then he heard the most horrible screams he'd ever imagined behind him. His weapons officer had lost her hand, being severed at the wrist by flying debris inside the cockpit.
"Cobra One! Cobra One!" Why was Joliet screaming at him? It took him a second to realize that he was hurt-bad. "Can you hear me?" she continued to scream.
"We're here, more or less," he managed to say. For a second he'd forgotten that he was flying.
"Thank the Lord of Kobol! The whole left side of your ship's been shredded," she screamed. "You're losing containment."
"Cusheta is dead."
"You're losing containment!" she repeated.
To her left a Raider was sliced in half by the Galactica's long–ranged defensive cannons, even while it fought with the Extreme.
"Solium or antimatter?" he asked, trying to determine what type of missile had hit him.
"Both!"
"I'll try to pull us out of the battle," he said manipulating the controls, which were extremely sluggish, towards a vector away from the combat zone.
"You don't have time! You have to abandon your ship, now!"
Boxey's attention was drawn to the flashing blue-red light.
"Cobra Thirteen," he slurred. He was getting light-headed. "You may be right."
Lord Belzim watched impassively from his command room as another Cylon Raider disappeared in a flash of expanding light and dust. The plan to obliterate the planet Mariposa along with the Battlestar Galactica and the USS Voyager was being challenged to say the least. Two Hellions and its own Extreme should have been sufficient to complete the operation but maybe the calculations were wrong. In its current state the Galactica could barely hold its own against its own vessel, but it wasn't alone. The Tiny Voyager starship carried weaponry that hadn't been encountered before. The modified quantum torpedoes were a threat in itself, but the other two projectiles identified as trans-phasic torpedoes had all but vaporized the second Hellion and had damaged its own ship. It appeared that the ship had only two available. That was something positive. However there was another problem. Both the Galactica and Voyager, had some new type or ablative plating which kept its anti-proton beams from doing what they were supposed to; destroy both ships. Evidently the Galactica had not completed its reconstruction, but there were enough improvements to defend itself in battle against two Hellions and the standard compliment of fighters. This operation would be deemed a failure if the Colonial, Federation and those Klingon war-craft proceeded to attack this vessel, but they were occupied with over two hundred seventy Cylon Raiders and H-Ks.
A silver centurion twisted its head towards it.
"By the Command," it transmitted via its subspace transceiver. "Two Federation battleships have entered the area. They have joined the fight against us."
That was stating the obvious. The vibrations shaking its ship had increased significantly.
However, it didn't matter. This ship had been modified with extra shielding and weaponry specifically for this operation. The edict was clear. Terminate Adama, Picard and Janeway. It was judged that at least two of the targets were present. It would not turn back.
"Increase the rate of fire against the Galactica and Voyager," it ordered.
"The systems will overload, as you are aware."
"I am aware. Proceed."
It watched as the Galactica was hit again, their shields withstanding the increased firepower.
If only the Galactica would not move so quickly, it wished, then it could complete its programming. Its ship shook again as disintegration beams punched through its shields creating large ruptures in its wake.
Apollo was again almost knocked out of his command chair by the blasts trying to pepper his ship. The Galactica was fast but not like Voyager and Cylon tracking was monstrously accurate. He ordered Firing control to hit that abomination again and smiled in satisfaction as the Extreme shuttered violently. They were trading blow for blow, a contest he knew they'd lose. This Basestar was actually a modified warship-prime with power ratings above even the regular Extremes.
"Turn starboard thirty by one-twenty, full impulse," he ordered. "We're close enough to use the missiles."
"It's about time," Brie yelled over the din. "Weapons control. Disengage primary and secondary safeties on missiles one through fifteen," she ordered.
"Primaries and secondaries are disengaged," weapons control answered. "Target locked. Missiles are primed and ready."
The Galactica completed its hard turn now fully facing the Extreme, which had just let loose a blistering volley of weapons fire at the fast dodging Voyager and Singtow. Voyager was sideswiped but the Singtow took a direct hit. The beam went through the Nebula-class starship's shields and cleanly sliced off half of the port nacelle. The Galactica could hear the transmissions of the crew as engineering Frantically tried to dump the warp core. The Galactica was still fifteen microns from optimal firing range with the missiles, but it could still inflict damage with its disrupters and that was exactly what it did. The full force of its attack could be seen from the surface of Mariposa.
The Singtow was effectively dead in space from that single strike. Shielding was gone as was the now exploded warp core. The only thing available was one-quarter impulse. They were moving away now and allied ships were fighting off constant sniping by Raiders and the more dangerous H-Ks. But the Extreme was targeting the ship again even while preparing to defend itself against the oncoming Galactica.
"Onscreen."
Captain Riker and the bridge crew were stunned for a moment. The devastation in this star system was unbelievable. There were small, medium and large fighter craft everywhere. Weapons fire was thick enough to walk on.
The USS Melbourne had just dropped out of warp less than a minute behind the Singtow and now the Singtow was wrecked, its nacelle torn off and leaking plasma like a bloody wound.
To the side, Voyager was attacking a vessel that looked just a little smaller than a Borg cube and the Galactica was turning like a jet fighter homing in on its target. There were Cylons everywhere and every few seconds a bright light signaled the death of a ship. H e had to decide quickly where he could be the most effective.
"Full shields," he said. His voice always got quieter when he planned to do something extraordinarily dangerous. It was interesting he thought. "Helm, plot a course to take us between the Basestar and the Singtow. Do it."
The Sovereign Starship glided effortlessly through the mass of fighters occasionally blowing Cylon fighters out of space with its disintegrator banks. Like many of the newer ships being built it also had isomagnetic disintegrator banks as its main weapons, as well as its standard phaser array and quantum torpedoes. The ship had not received its trans-phasic torpedo allotment yet.
"Extend shields around the Singtow and fire disintegrators on the Basestar."
"Shields extended."
The Melbourne's shields surrounded the Singtow while its tractors helped to move it out of range of the Basestar. Twice the Basestar targeted the Melbourne, attempting to burn through its shields.
"Weapons firing," Mr. Zunna said.
Bright beams connected the Melbourne to the Cylon mother ship. Its shields flashed brightly with the strain of defending itself from a three-pronged attack.
"Sir," Corwin said. "The Galactica is in missile range and will fire in four seconds."
"Well, let's help out," he ordered. "Mr. Zunna, I want four banks of quantums targeted on that monstrosity."
"Acknowledged."
"Fire," he said, almost murmuring, now half standing out of his chair with his fist in the air.
The Battlestar Galactica, buffeted by the raking it had just received finally reached it's intended range. Forward shields were almost gone. Shots were getting through being absorbed by the front armor that was rapidly burning away.
"Commander, we're in range," Brie said.
"Then fire," Apollo yelled, his gray hair falling into his face. He felt the whole ship shutter as fifteen solonite-antimatter, short-range missiles streaked towards their intended target.
Onboard the Voyager, Captain Janeway saw the Galactica's intentions and planned to help out. Her ship had been damaged enough by these robots.
"Mr. Kim use our last trans-phasic torpedo and all of the photons and fire on that thing."
"Yes, Ma'am," the lieutenant said. "Firing-"
Lord Belzim looked at the threat display with resignation.
"Plan unsuccessful," it transmitted. "Targets live. Try again. Ruination proceeds."
The IL series Lord looked at its view screen as weapons fire homed in on its ships like a maddened insect swarm.
Close to forty projectiles of various types hit the Basestar from three different directions. Its shields flared brightly, rupturing then collapsing as the trans-phasic torpedo single-handedly blew a third of the ship away. This single Basestar had been especially designed to withstand attacks from multiple vectors. It offered protection and frightening firepower, but flexibility was not one of its strong points. A second later, the ship blew, momentarily creating a new star in the heavens.