Somewhere Beyond the Heavens part 13
*
Apollo took up his familiar spot as the point man in the formation of Blue Squadron as it raced towards the enemy, which was now in Earth orbit. The elite Blue Squadron leader also led Silver Spar and Red groups past the Earth's single moon and on a direct heading for a Basestar that was now pummeling New Chicago. As the time of engagement neared, Apollo continued to check his scanner for all relevant and updated data on the Cylon forces and their positions. As it now stood, 25 Basestars hovered over the 25 largest cities on Earth, firing salvo after salvo of high-powered destructor beams upon the planet's population centers.
"This task force makes the one they used to ambush our fleet at Cimtar look like a combat probe", Boomer deadpanned.
Boxey squirmed in his cockpit. This was not the end he envisioned all those yahrens ago when he dreamed day and night of becoming a Colonial Warrior.
"Father?"
"Yes, Troy?" replied Apollo.
"I just wanted to say---"
"No. No goodbyes, son", said Apollo in a commanding tone. "You have a job to do. Stay focused."
"Yes, sir!" Boxey answered as professionally as possible.
Sheba, the woman that had assumed the role of Boxey's mother over twenty yahrens ago, glanced over at her son's ship. Troy had most certainly grown into a fine young man and a very skilled pilot, but he would always be her little Boxey. She wished she could teleport him away to safety. But, in reality, would there ever be a safe haven anywhere in the galaxy so long as there was a Cylon Empire? As Apollo began a countdown to fire, Sheba returned her attention to the starfield ahead. Off to her port side, she noticed the twinkle of a distant star and then, for just a moment, she could have sworn she heard a voice. The voice was warm and loving and definitely familiar.
"Go get those tin-headed devils, baby!"
"Father?" Sheba whispered.
Hawk led the Starfighters as they did their best to keep up with the faster Colonial Vipers. He glanced to his port side where he could see the rest of the Defense Directorate squadrons rising from Earth's atmosphere to rendezvous with Searchers' squadron. Hawk allowed himself but a brief moment to think of his deceased wife before he entered what would surely be his life's final moments. As Apollo's countdown ended, laser fire erupted all around the Starfighters, jolting Hawk's fighter from side to side.
"Not much longer now, my beloved. I will see you on the other side", whispered Hawk as he engaged the enemy.
"I've got to get out there!" exclaimed Wilma.
"I need you here, Colonel! You're my XO!" Asimov countered.
"Admiral, I belong out there! There's not a helluva lot more I can do standing next to you on this bridge", snarled Wilma. "I belong in a cockpit of a Starfighter!"
Asimov sighed deeply. He knew she was right. And really, what difference would it make anyway? They were hopelessly outnumbered. Crighton estimated over 1,000 enemy fighters in just their first wave alone. This was going to be a very short battle.
"Go", said Asimov in barely a whisper. "God be with you, child."
No sooner had Wilma sprinted off of the Searcher Bridge than Crighton wheeled over to the Admiral with a pressing report. Dr. Goodfellow, noticing the androids' uncharacteristic sense of urgency, followed the tall, silver android to the Admiral's chair.
"What is it, Crighton? I'm quite busy, in case you hadn't noticed?" shouted an angry Asimov.
"Admiral, I have found a flaw in the Cylon defenses", reported Crighton almost gleefully.
"What?"
"Yes, it appears that I have the ability to hack into their mainframe systems on board their mother-ships---Basestars I believe our Galactica hosts had called them", explained Crighton.
Others on the Searcher command deck now stopped what they were doing to listen to Crightons' plan. Devlin rushed from his station, "Well, spit it out! How have you done this, Crighton?"
"It pains me to admit that I do not know. However, I can infiltrate their systems with a very simple virus or-"
Dr. Goodfellow laughed boisterously. "It all makes sense now", said the doctor.
"Dr. Goodfellow, please explain", said the Admiral in a most urgent tone.
"Yes, and quickly", added Devlin. "We're running out of time. Our fighters are dropping like flies."
"Crighton---Crighton was assembled where?" asked Goodfellow.
"Dr. Goodfellow, you know that I came from the advanced Artificial Intelligence labs at Fort Ros-"
"That's right, my dear Crighton. You were constructed at the Top Secret laboratories at Fort Roswell", said Goodfellow, finishing the androids sentence.
"My god! According to Dr. Huer, Roswell was the sight of the famous UFO crash where the old U.S. government was said to have covered up the findings of 3 alien beings", exclaimed Asimov.
"3 alien beings that we now know were Cylons!" added Devlin.
"Are you all inferring that I am a ---Cylon?" said Crighton, raising his long neck high into the air.
"No. No, my android friend, you're not Cylon but I do believe your designs and positronic net may have been based on Cylon technologies", explained Goodfellow.
"So, somehow you're noggin' can get us by their technology!" laughed Devlin. We may have a chance yet."
"So, how do we use this?" Asimov asked Goodfellow.
"I already have a plan, Admiral", answered Crighton. "With your permission I will execute it immediately?"
"Yes! For god's sake, whatever it is, do it now!!!" growled Asimov.
A firefight like no other raged above the Earth's atmosphere. Allied human forces fought against all odds to save their people, their very species from being exterminated. The laser fire was so intense, and there were so many enemy fighters, it was hard to miss. Stray shots were finding enemy fighters as often as intended ones that had been aimed at the Cylon invaders. However, the sheer number of Cylons was taking its' toll. One brave pilot, be it a Colonial or Earthling, was being blown away every few microns.
Colonel Wilma Deering tried desperately to avoid being the next casualty of the horrific battle. She found herself in a Cylon Pinwheel attack, the same attack pattern that Hawk had barely escaped from in their only other encounter with the Cylons. Unfortunately, unlike Hawks' predicament, there was no one to assist her from avoiding the inevitable. The rest of her comrades were too busy fighting for their own lives.
Then, just as Wilma was about to say a final prayer, three of her Cylon attackers exploded inexplicably. There was no time to ascertain where her savior had come from, but she took full advantage of the situation. Banking sharply, Wilma turned the tables on the remaining attackers and she became the aggressor, quickly destroying two Cylon Raiders.
"Hey, not bad Dizzy D", came her saviors voice over her headset.
"Noah?" exclaimed a shocked Colonel Deering. "Noah Cooper, is that you?"
"The one and only!" Noah replied happily.
Noah Cooper had been a lifelong friend of the Deering family. He had flown for quite some time alongside Wilma's father. Many years later, Cooper had been forced to retire by Wilma, Dizzy D as he called her, because she thought him too old for duty. As fate would have it, Wilma eventually called Cooper back to active duty to navigate the Necrosis asteroid field and bomb a Terrorist base containing stolen nerve gas that was a threat to Earth. After the mission was successful, Cooper and the rest of his 69th Earth Space Marine Squadron were given back their Silver Eagles and reinstated to active duty.
"You didn't think we would miss this bash, did ya'?" another familiar voice echoed through Wilma's helmet.
"Big Red McMurphy!" cried Wilma.
"We're all here, dear", said Harriet Twain. "The entire Fighting 69th, at your service."
Wilma could now see the familiar Bombing Sleds of the 69th coming into view through her canopy. The sleds were bulky, outdated fighters, yet still very effective when the 69th was at the controls.
"I'm afraid you've just joined a losing battle, but I'm glad you're here nonetheless", said Wilma through tears of not only joy, but sorrow as well.
"Not so fast Wilma", Bucks' voice bellowed. "I've brought some friends of my own!"
Wilma looked once more at her scanner, which now displayed a wall of Draconian Marauders with a very large Armada of Star Fortresses not far behind them.
"Buck! You did it!" shouted Wilma.
On the Galactica, Athena is reporting the good news of Buck's success to Colonel Tigh.
"Thank the maker", uttered Tigh. "Athena, what's the count on those Star Fortresses?"
"My scanner reads 12. They appear to be a little over half the size of a typical Basestar", Athena reported. "Weaponry is standard laser disrupter, level 5 power."
"Well, they should at least buy us some more time", said an obviously discouraged Tigh. "Open a hailing frequency to them. Instruct their Captains to engage the main Cylon force on their rear flank. The Galactica will come in from the opposite side."
"Understood, Colonel", Athena said as she worked her controls feverishly.
Tigh walked to the railing of the command deck, leaning on it with a ferocity that could very well buckle the steel. "Adama, whatever you and Dr. Zee are going to do, do it fast", he whispered to himself.
Slowly, a large portion of the battle moved from open space high above the Earth, to just within the planet's atmosphere. Earth's Starfighters had retreated to defend their cities, which were under heavy attack from 25 Basestars' worldwide. Dr. Huer had sent out a desperate recall to defend New Phoenix, whose protective shield had finally faltered. Thousands of Phoenicians died with each blast fired from the Basestar hovering over the city.
Apollo, Boomer, Sheba and Troy had followed Wilma, Buck and Hawk as they led their team against the all out attack.
"Go for the flank side missile launchers" ordered Apollo.
"Wow. I'm having déjà vu. I seem to recall hearing that order before", boomed the voice of a Draconian Marauder pilot.
"STARBUCK!!!!" replied the Colonials in unison.
NEXT: THE FINAL (LONG) CHAPTER (
*
Apollo took up his familiar spot as the point man in the formation of Blue Squadron as it raced towards the enemy, which was now in Earth orbit. The elite Blue Squadron leader also led Silver Spar and Red groups past the Earth's single moon and on a direct heading for a Basestar that was now pummeling New Chicago. As the time of engagement neared, Apollo continued to check his scanner for all relevant and updated data on the Cylon forces and their positions. As it now stood, 25 Basestars hovered over the 25 largest cities on Earth, firing salvo after salvo of high-powered destructor beams upon the planet's population centers.
"This task force makes the one they used to ambush our fleet at Cimtar look like a combat probe", Boomer deadpanned.
Boxey squirmed in his cockpit. This was not the end he envisioned all those yahrens ago when he dreamed day and night of becoming a Colonial Warrior.
"Father?"
"Yes, Troy?" replied Apollo.
"I just wanted to say---"
"No. No goodbyes, son", said Apollo in a commanding tone. "You have a job to do. Stay focused."
"Yes, sir!" Boxey answered as professionally as possible.
Sheba, the woman that had assumed the role of Boxey's mother over twenty yahrens ago, glanced over at her son's ship. Troy had most certainly grown into a fine young man and a very skilled pilot, but he would always be her little Boxey. She wished she could teleport him away to safety. But, in reality, would there ever be a safe haven anywhere in the galaxy so long as there was a Cylon Empire? As Apollo began a countdown to fire, Sheba returned her attention to the starfield ahead. Off to her port side, she noticed the twinkle of a distant star and then, for just a moment, she could have sworn she heard a voice. The voice was warm and loving and definitely familiar.
"Go get those tin-headed devils, baby!"
"Father?" Sheba whispered.
Hawk led the Starfighters as they did their best to keep up with the faster Colonial Vipers. He glanced to his port side where he could see the rest of the Defense Directorate squadrons rising from Earth's atmosphere to rendezvous with Searchers' squadron. Hawk allowed himself but a brief moment to think of his deceased wife before he entered what would surely be his life's final moments. As Apollo's countdown ended, laser fire erupted all around the Starfighters, jolting Hawk's fighter from side to side.
"Not much longer now, my beloved. I will see you on the other side", whispered Hawk as he engaged the enemy.
"I've got to get out there!" exclaimed Wilma.
"I need you here, Colonel! You're my XO!" Asimov countered.
"Admiral, I belong out there! There's not a helluva lot more I can do standing next to you on this bridge", snarled Wilma. "I belong in a cockpit of a Starfighter!"
Asimov sighed deeply. He knew she was right. And really, what difference would it make anyway? They were hopelessly outnumbered. Crighton estimated over 1,000 enemy fighters in just their first wave alone. This was going to be a very short battle.
"Go", said Asimov in barely a whisper. "God be with you, child."
No sooner had Wilma sprinted off of the Searcher Bridge than Crighton wheeled over to the Admiral with a pressing report. Dr. Goodfellow, noticing the androids' uncharacteristic sense of urgency, followed the tall, silver android to the Admiral's chair.
"What is it, Crighton? I'm quite busy, in case you hadn't noticed?" shouted an angry Asimov.
"Admiral, I have found a flaw in the Cylon defenses", reported Crighton almost gleefully.
"What?"
"Yes, it appears that I have the ability to hack into their mainframe systems on board their mother-ships---Basestars I believe our Galactica hosts had called them", explained Crighton.
Others on the Searcher command deck now stopped what they were doing to listen to Crightons' plan. Devlin rushed from his station, "Well, spit it out! How have you done this, Crighton?"
"It pains me to admit that I do not know. However, I can infiltrate their systems with a very simple virus or-"
Dr. Goodfellow laughed boisterously. "It all makes sense now", said the doctor.
"Dr. Goodfellow, please explain", said the Admiral in a most urgent tone.
"Yes, and quickly", added Devlin. "We're running out of time. Our fighters are dropping like flies."
"Crighton---Crighton was assembled where?" asked Goodfellow.
"Dr. Goodfellow, you know that I came from the advanced Artificial Intelligence labs at Fort Ros-"
"That's right, my dear Crighton. You were constructed at the Top Secret laboratories at Fort Roswell", said Goodfellow, finishing the androids sentence.
"My god! According to Dr. Huer, Roswell was the sight of the famous UFO crash where the old U.S. government was said to have covered up the findings of 3 alien beings", exclaimed Asimov.
"3 alien beings that we now know were Cylons!" added Devlin.
"Are you all inferring that I am a ---Cylon?" said Crighton, raising his long neck high into the air.
"No. No, my android friend, you're not Cylon but I do believe your designs and positronic net may have been based on Cylon technologies", explained Goodfellow.
"So, somehow you're noggin' can get us by their technology!" laughed Devlin. We may have a chance yet."
"So, how do we use this?" Asimov asked Goodfellow.
"I already have a plan, Admiral", answered Crighton. "With your permission I will execute it immediately?"
"Yes! For god's sake, whatever it is, do it now!!!" growled Asimov.
A firefight like no other raged above the Earth's atmosphere. Allied human forces fought against all odds to save their people, their very species from being exterminated. The laser fire was so intense, and there were so many enemy fighters, it was hard to miss. Stray shots were finding enemy fighters as often as intended ones that had been aimed at the Cylon invaders. However, the sheer number of Cylons was taking its' toll. One brave pilot, be it a Colonial or Earthling, was being blown away every few microns.
Colonel Wilma Deering tried desperately to avoid being the next casualty of the horrific battle. She found herself in a Cylon Pinwheel attack, the same attack pattern that Hawk had barely escaped from in their only other encounter with the Cylons. Unfortunately, unlike Hawks' predicament, there was no one to assist her from avoiding the inevitable. The rest of her comrades were too busy fighting for their own lives.
Then, just as Wilma was about to say a final prayer, three of her Cylon attackers exploded inexplicably. There was no time to ascertain where her savior had come from, but she took full advantage of the situation. Banking sharply, Wilma turned the tables on the remaining attackers and she became the aggressor, quickly destroying two Cylon Raiders.
"Hey, not bad Dizzy D", came her saviors voice over her headset.
"Noah?" exclaimed a shocked Colonel Deering. "Noah Cooper, is that you?"
"The one and only!" Noah replied happily.
Noah Cooper had been a lifelong friend of the Deering family. He had flown for quite some time alongside Wilma's father. Many years later, Cooper had been forced to retire by Wilma, Dizzy D as he called her, because she thought him too old for duty. As fate would have it, Wilma eventually called Cooper back to active duty to navigate the Necrosis asteroid field and bomb a Terrorist base containing stolen nerve gas that was a threat to Earth. After the mission was successful, Cooper and the rest of his 69th Earth Space Marine Squadron were given back their Silver Eagles and reinstated to active duty.
"You didn't think we would miss this bash, did ya'?" another familiar voice echoed through Wilma's helmet.
"Big Red McMurphy!" cried Wilma.
"We're all here, dear", said Harriet Twain. "The entire Fighting 69th, at your service."
Wilma could now see the familiar Bombing Sleds of the 69th coming into view through her canopy. The sleds were bulky, outdated fighters, yet still very effective when the 69th was at the controls.
"I'm afraid you've just joined a losing battle, but I'm glad you're here nonetheless", said Wilma through tears of not only joy, but sorrow as well.
"Not so fast Wilma", Bucks' voice bellowed. "I've brought some friends of my own!"
Wilma looked once more at her scanner, which now displayed a wall of Draconian Marauders with a very large Armada of Star Fortresses not far behind them.
"Buck! You did it!" shouted Wilma.
On the Galactica, Athena is reporting the good news of Buck's success to Colonel Tigh.
"Thank the maker", uttered Tigh. "Athena, what's the count on those Star Fortresses?"
"My scanner reads 12. They appear to be a little over half the size of a typical Basestar", Athena reported. "Weaponry is standard laser disrupter, level 5 power."
"Well, they should at least buy us some more time", said an obviously discouraged Tigh. "Open a hailing frequency to them. Instruct their Captains to engage the main Cylon force on their rear flank. The Galactica will come in from the opposite side."
"Understood, Colonel", Athena said as she worked her controls feverishly.
Tigh walked to the railing of the command deck, leaning on it with a ferocity that could very well buckle the steel. "Adama, whatever you and Dr. Zee are going to do, do it fast", he whispered to himself.
Slowly, a large portion of the battle moved from open space high above the Earth, to just within the planet's atmosphere. Earth's Starfighters had retreated to defend their cities, which were under heavy attack from 25 Basestars' worldwide. Dr. Huer had sent out a desperate recall to defend New Phoenix, whose protective shield had finally faltered. Thousands of Phoenicians died with each blast fired from the Basestar hovering over the city.
Apollo, Boomer, Sheba and Troy had followed Wilma, Buck and Hawk as they led their team against the all out attack.
"Go for the flank side missile launchers" ordered Apollo.
"Wow. I'm having déjà vu. I seem to recall hearing that order before", boomed the voice of a Draconian Marauder pilot.
"STARBUCK!!!!" replied the Colonials in unison.
NEXT: THE FINAL (LONG) CHAPTER (
