Sequel to 7 Points
By Chaoseternus
Chapter 14: Worries
Hel'tec grimaced, the shackles chaffing on her arms and legs as she was lead from the iron bared box that was the local version of a prison cell and was frog-marched across town, Guards surrounding her at all times.
Several were watching her, watching for any sign of an attempt to escape, to make a bid for freedom but some, they were watching the civilians and Hel'tec had eyes, she could see they weren't worrying about her having allies to aid in an escape bid, no, they were worried about mob justice.
Hel'tec shivered, that she had seen all too often was one of the nastier ways to go, second only to being burnt alive… or, as she had once seen, being burnt to the point of death, the flames doused and the sarcophagus used to revive, ready for the next burning.
She shivered, no that had to be one of the worst ways imaginable to go.
She looked up, a little hopeful as she realised that she wasn't being lead to the usual room in the small, prefab labelled Intel but across to a larger building, this one made of some local brick. Construction she noted was still going on in the wings but the main building was finished and busy.
This had to be the local command centre.
Finally she was going to see the big guns, maybe if she was lucky, her double herself.
Maybe today she would have her chance to be righteous again.
Kara cursed as she once again flew the battered, aging Viper II on patrol. Like all the others, this Viper had been hurriedly repaired, patched with slap shod skill far too many times and it showed in how the craft handled.
Sure, it still flew and in skilled hands such as hers it was still deadly, but not as deadly as a properly maintained Viper II would be. All the fighters they had had reached the ends of their useful lives, through overuse, too much combat and not enough proper maintenance.
And yet, they couldn't replace them.
Not yet, they didn't have the infrastructure, they had no working mines to get raw materials, no completed refineries to process and prepare, no factories to turn processed metals into components and no assembly house to bring the deadly form of the craft together.
All of these were still under construction, some faster than others. The mines had been placed, the Tau'ri had provided what she had been told were excellent maps of ore locations and qualities but the shafts were still being sunk.
The refinery had been paid for, a task which cost the Colonials several good ships, even if they were civilian and battered by the cylons but assembly wasn't complete and wouldn't be for some time.
The factories were almost complete, but without the mines and refinerys they were destined to lie dormant for months, the colonials having little, if anything they were willing to barter for raw materials.
The assembly houses for the new Vipers were complete, being deceptively simple to put together but for now, they were empty, unused.
So, they still used their old vipers, mark II's mostly, though a few VII's had survived and were in use but they were little defence against the Goa'uld, they were on even terms with Udajeet but tau'ri intelligence was clear on this point, both Maktenos and Anubis had decided the Udajeet were ineffective, and were working on replacements.
Soon, the existing Vipers would be useless, and the Colonials would have no defences of their own, and that rankled. Sure, the Tau'ri had started construction on the MTB squadron Bill had negotiated for, but it would be some time before they were ready and she wasn't sure the Vipers would be flying by then.
A number had been down checked, their overuse stressing the fuselage had introduced metal fatigue and the frames could no longer be considered safe, or repairable.
A number had been down checked by catastrophic failure, usually taking one of the few surviving qualified Viper pilots with them.
Kara was worried.
She was a warrior, to fight and to fly was her reason to be , but her weapons were blunted, dangerous and the wolves were gathering.
She just hoped the Viper VIII was ready, before the wolves decided that the prey was defenceless.
And acted.
O'Neill, Commander of Alpha Centauri Defences also worried, too few ships, too few fighters, too many battles and brush fires.
He knew all to well the true state of the Alpha systems defences, at any one time only two active squadrons and two, sorry, four MTB's guarded the system. That was a help at least, two more MTB's joining the PDF forces but it still wasn't enough.
Any serious attack and the forces he had here permanently for defence would be brushed aside contemptuously and he dreaded to think what would happen if he added 'Waterwings', the training squadron to the mix. They would be massacred.
He sighed, he couldn't ever guarantee that other ships would be available too, though RSS Command, which had control over fleet operations was good about making sure at least one hyper capable squadron was in-system at any one time.
GCS herself could seriously damage any attacking capital ship with her eight gauss rifles but they had to come to Ravenbright first and that was the weakness with any bastion, the attacker had to come to you, the attacker had the initiative, always.
The fleet was growing too and soon they were planning on a permanent picket force to be maintained to cover the Sol and Alpha systems but it would be a while before that idea came to fruition, even with an extra slip, a BC sized slip being added to Thundersdawn , ready for the new Britannica Class Battlecruisers.
And so every craft was needed.
Yet they had dedicated warriors eager to jump into the fight but unable due to their ships not being up to scratch, overused and under maintained.
O'Neill sighed; the momentum was building, even in the Colonial camp, soon they would have a proper defence force, then they would be able to work on the offensive at last.
Soon.
Then the Galaxy would know the time of the system lords was at an end.
Then the Galaxy would know the vengeance of the Colonials.
Soon.