Battlestar Galactica
Nightmare?
Chapter Three
On the bridge of the Galactica, Commander Adama stared at one of the monitors at the command console in total disbelief. He could not believe what he was seeing. Hundreds upon hundreds of Cylon fighters heading directly at them, there seemed to be no end to them. Then he looked at the monitor showing his squadrons of Vipers flying out to intercept the Cylon force. There were so few of them, just over a hundred, if that many. Could they really do anything to stop the Cylon attack? Would any of them even survive, outnumbered as they were? The odds were very much against them. Even the always optimistic Starbuck wouldn't chance them, if he had the choice but then there was the problem, they had no choice. Every warrior knew that this time they couldn't run. Adama could have ordered all ships to flank speed and tried to outrun the Cylons, but that would mean leaving those ships without FTL ability behind to be slaughtered. This was not an acceptable option.
"Commander, scanners show nearly one thousand Cylon fighters approaching." Lieutenant Omega said as he monitored the events as they unfolded. "Estimate five centons till our squadrons intercept the Cylon forces."
Adama nodded his head slowly as he looked out the huge view port of the Galactica bridge. "How long before Jolly's group is overtaken?" he asked.
Omega punched in a few commands on his console and the look on his face said it all.
"Sir, the lead elements of the Cylon attack force should be within range in seventy five microns."
At that very moment out in the cold, dark vacuum off space, Jolly, Konst, and Greenbean knew their time had run out. Laser fire from the pursuing Cylon attack force were beginning to hit closer and closer with each passing micron. Each warrior knew there was little chance of making it back to the Galactica. Konst kept trying to contact the Galactica, hoping to get some help.
"Patrol Two to Galactica. Come in please. Patrol Two to Galactica. Please acknowledge. We are under attack! We have the entire Cylon fleet heading this way. Request immediate assistance. Galactica, please acknowledge."
The desperate call for help was heard by nearly every member of the bridge crew. Tears streaked down the faces of several members as they listened to the terrified, yet professional voice of Ensign Konst. They all knew that help, though on the way, would not arrive in time to save the three brave young warriors. Commander Adama could see the faces of a few members of the bridge crew turn to him, seemingly pleading with him to do something to save the doomed patrol.
And them!
Adama switched on his comm unit and in a deep, calm voice, spoke to the frightened young pilot.
"Patrol Two, this is Commander Adama. All squadrons have been launched and are on their way. Use whatever means necessary to evade the Cylon forces. Help is on the way, you only need to hold on a few more centons."
"Commander, Jolly and Greenbean don't have a few more centons. There's only one way left for us." Ensign Konst said, his voice suddenly calm and full of determination.
Adama knew what the young warrior was about to do, and he also knew, that if he were in that same position, he might be doing the same exact thing. Adama closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, then in a voice that reflected such deep sorrow, he said into his comm unit, "Ensign Konst, all our prayers and the blessings of the Lords of Kobal are with you. Good luck warrior!" Adama then bowed his head and said a quick, silent prayer for a very brave young man.
With a new found determination, Ensign Konst hand signaled to Jolly and Greenbean to keep going. When they acknowledged, he closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "Lords give me the strength and skill to do now what must be done."
And with that, Konst hit his turbos and threw his viper into a hard left turn, the nose of his fighter swung around and accelerated directly into the heart of the Cylon attack force. Without realizing it, Konst had accidentally activated his comm unit, so everything he said was now being broadcast on an open channel. On the bridge of the Galactica as well as in the cockpits of every viper rushing to engage those very same Cylons, people sat and listened to a single brave warrior put up a fight that even the legendary Commander Cain would have envied. Konst dove straight into the fleet of Cylon fighters, firing at will. One Raider after another burst into fireballs in space as Konst relentlessly charged forward, reaping a path of destruction as he went.
On the comm line, those on the Galactica bridge and in the squadrons of approaching vipers heard Ensign Konst yelling challenges and curses at the inhuman foe he faced.
"Alright you galmonging pieces of junk, come and get me! That's right, lets see what you've got. Is that the best you can do? Come on you sorry tin cans, kill me if you can! Not so easy to kill when we fight back, are we? You murdered my best friend while he was helpless, well I'm not helpless and I'm going to blow every one of you rust buckets straight to Hades for what you did to Crader. That's right, come and get some of this. I've got plenty for all of you."
Konst's verbal assault continued without end as he pushed deeper and deeper into the Cylon host. He would have his vengeance on the Cylons for the murder of his friend. He would not be denied. He vowed to teach the Cylons something very alien to them..........
FEAR!
The unexpected attack by the lone Colonial Viper had caused a great deal of confusion in the orderly ranks of the Cylon attack phalanx. The front ranks began firing at the human ship almost immediately, but could not hit the bobbing and weaving viper. The Colonial ship however, had no problem destroying one Cylon ship after another since their formation caused them to "overlap" in his sights, so even if one ship avoided being hit, the one behind would get zapped. As Konst continued forward, cutting a path through the Cylons, more and more of them moved in to try and get a shot at him. This had a very interesting effect. The Cylon pilots became so focused on the Colonial Viper that they began to get in each others way. This resulted in dozens of Raiders colliding, causing a domino effect as damaged ships would careen out of control and collide with still more ships or they would get into the line of fire of those ships behind them and inadvertently be blown out of existence by their own ships. In fact, for every Cylon that Konst destroyed, three more were destroyed by poor flying or "friendly fire". Either way, Konst was doing exactly what he had set out to do, to slow down the Cylon advance long enough for Jolly and Greenbean to escape.
Konst continued to weave his way through the hordes of Cylon fighters, destroying scores of them as he went. He had no plan. He was simply flying on some unknown instinct. So when he broke through the waves of Cylon fighters into open space, he had no idea where he was or what had just happened. All he could do was mumble to himself was, "I'm still alive!"
Then he saw what lay ahead of him, and his blood seemed to have froze in his veins. Three baseships were bearing down on him.
"Holy frak!" Konst whispered as he decided that a single viper was no match for three baseships. So Konst hit the turbos again and turned his viper around and dove back into the rear echelons of the Cylon fleet.
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