Chapter 6:
CIC, Battlestar Hyperion, Near the Ouranos Asteroid Belt.
03:19 PFT (Post-Fall Time)
As the sound of the FTL drives slowly faded as the drives power down once again, John stood over the Command desk silently, feeling a perfect storm of fear, dread, anger and regret. He couldn't get over the feeling that there was more that could have been done, that could've prevented the loss of three powerful Battlestars, a loss which could set back any hope for a straight war by a long way.
Thanks to the ambiguity of both their escapes from the Cylons as far as they were concerned, John knew that they may yet still hold the element of surprise. Being myth is much safer than being a hero, John thought as he tried to reconcile himself with the loss of thousands, or so he thought anyway...
"Admiral. Report from the hangar!" Shouted one of the ship's Ensigns; unnecessarily loudly as John noted.
"What is it Ensign?" John called back; much quieter than the Ensign had.
"The survivors from the other ships are unloading from their shuttles sir," The Ensign told him. John let out huge sigh of relief before responding.
"Great news Ensign, thank you," John said, relieved. "Emily would you like to come with me down to the hangar deck? Colonel Virgon, you have the floor," John gave his still rather shaken friend a heartfelt smile then spun around and lead Emily out of the doors and right down the corridor.
John was walking silently down the surprisingly empty corridors with Emily at his side, only a couple of hundred metres from the hangar when he stopped dead in his tracks. "What's the matter John?" Emily asked, slightly unsettled by her commanding officer's sudden stoppage.
"Umm... Nothing Emily, I'm just..." John trailed off as he started listening as intently as he could to the wall on his right, pressing himself right up to it.
"John?" Emily asked again, now rather concerned by his behaviour. She started walking slowly towards him when the lights flickered menacingly, just like they had before the ambush only a short while ago.
"Do you hear that?" John said, suddenly pulled away from the wall, his hand instinctively dropping to his side-arm holster on his hip.
"Hear what John? What's going on?" Emily, whose heart was beginning to race, looked around for an intercom phone to alert CIC. "Okay John, we need to go back," She said, after failing to locate one of the many cord-phones located around the ship.
"Okay fine, let's get back," John replied. He pulled his side-arm from its holster and broke into a jog down the corridor for about ten metres when stopped abruptly, just before they reached a junction in the corridors. Then he darted to the left wall and pinned himself up against the wall in-between the structural pillars that stuck out from the wall by about 2 feet. He looked around at Emily, who he saw had followed him in the next alcove along and had her weapon drawn as well. He put his index finger to his lips and waited.
Then, they heard the sound of footsteps; but unlike the sound a walking crewman or running marine, these were slow, equidistant and... metallic. And then they saw it. Seven feet of shiny silver metal, so shiny they could see their reflections bouncing off it. Emily flattened herself as much as possible to stop herself from being seen by its constantly moving, red glowing eye. Both Emily and John held their breaths like their lives depended on it, which – depending on the Cylon Centurion's hearing – they very well might.
After an agonising few moments, the Centurion began walking off when the sound of distant gunfire signalled the start of its assault. It took a few slow steps down the crossing corridor before astoundingly breaking into a sprint and darting away from John and Emily. The two synchronously let out the breath they had been holding and stood out from their alcoves. "What the frak?!" Emily said, as she continued to gasp for air.
"Centurions," John replied, confirming what didn't need to be confirmed. "Big one too. I doubt we're going to take one of them without armour piercing rounds," Emily held up a finger to John to indicate he should wait while she searched through her pocket. A moment later her other hand emerged, balled into a fist. She lowered her finger and held out her hand to John before unravelling it. In the palm of her hand where three spare explosive rounds she had been preparing to dispose of earlier in the day before the attack. "Cheers Emily. Swap?" John said holding out his side-arm (which was in fact a vintage revolver John kept hold of for sentimental reasons). Emily pulled out her standard-issue side-arm and swapped weapons with him as he took the explosive rounds as well.
John quickly took Emily's side-arm and stuck one of the large rounds in the bottom barrel, then switched off the safety. "Ready?" John asked Emily, who looked up at him after inspecting the revolver. She gave him a quick nod and the two stepped out into the second corridor, only to be met by a silver plated Centurion as it attempted to run after its compatriot. John immediately spun around, threw himself as Emily to knock them onto the floor and fired the explosive round at its chest. The round then did exactly what it said on the tin and created a fireball as it cut through the Cylon's armour. Its shell fell the to the floor next to John and Emily as they stood back up, dusted themselves off and ran down the corridor, hoping to find where the first Centurion was heading.
Battlestar Hyperion, Near the Ouranos Asteroid Belt.
03:30 PFT (Post-Fall Time)
In the five or so minutes since their first encounter with the Centurions between the hangar and CIC, the sound of distant small arms fire could be heard coming from all directions. John, knowing Cylon tactics from the first war, led Emily and a lone Marine they had found unconscious (who Emily had managed to awaken after they found him) down towards the hangar deck. They had tried the direct route, but it was blocked off by a door the Cylons rigged to stay shut. The marine – who was actually Sergeant-at-Arms Lewis Doyle – had helped them take out a second Centurion with the AP rounds he scavenged before coming face-to-face with a Centurion in a similar situation to when John and Emily encountered their first.
As they slowly made their way down the levels and through the empty sections of the ship, John began to grow more and more disturbed as to the whereabouts of the crew, but hey continued on as the lights continued to flicker. Ahead the sound of heavy gunfire grew louder and John began to suspect some pilots and marines had set up a defensive line in front of the hangar.
When they got within a hundred metres of the entrance to the hangar, the pops and bangs of constant gunfire grew intense and John knew that there were definitely more than a few Cylons on the ship. As the corridor they were following curved around to the left, John as usual drew up against the inside wall and poked his out around the side. Beyond them, the Admiral could see two Centurions – their guns firing at a constant, seemingly indefinite, rate – backing up, away from the hangar where the Colonial forces there were seemingly forcing them to retreat.
Then, as the Centurions crossed the junction to John's corridors, a final Centurion appeared, also in retreat. However this Centurion had something – or rather, someone – in its grasp. It stopped firing and galloped off once it had cleared the junction, which allowed John, Emily and Sergeant Doyle to jog safely to where part of the crew were obviously holding out. John directed Emily and Doyle to back up against the wall. They did as he directed and followed him up against the wall, obscuring them from view of their Colonial allies.
"This is Admiral Jenkins. Do not fire!" John said, holding out his right hand, his weapon still clasped in it. He held it out for just a moment before dropping it onto the floor. John then again waited for a couple of moments before stepping out with his hand visible. As he stepped out, he saw six of his black-clad Colonial Marines standing – weapons raised – around their leader, Major Halway.
"Admiral! Thank the gods," Sidney Halway said, relieved. John waved Emily and Sergeant Doyle out of their cover and kept an eye on them as they collected up his side-arm. "We've taken down about four at the moment and we believe there to be anything up to twenty on the ship,"
"Buckle up then, we've got a hell of a fight to win," John told them confidently, trying to boost the morale of the shaken group in front of him. "How many men have we lost?"
"Not many sir, although we aren't sure on numbers elsewhere on the ship," Spinner said in reply. John nodded as he thought. "I'd estimate we've still got at least 200 Marines on the ship and all but one of my pilots,"
"Who'd we lose?" Emily interrupted; concerned that one of her friends might have been killed.
"Just Popsicle, the new kid," Sidney said reassuringly. "He met a toaster right in the face. Didn't even stand a chance," Spinner fell silent, recalling the event in his mind. Emily maintained a respectful silence until the Admiral spoke again.
"How many did you say boarded Sidney?" John asked Major Halway, a thought brimming in his mind.
"Twenty sir," Spinner replied. "We found their ship and it could only hold twenty. They seemed outfitted for that many as well so I doubt they would've come with any less," John took a pause to check if his theory was still viable before speaking.
"Good, just remember that they always travel in pairs. If you take one down there'll be another one not far behind. That being said," John continued. "We already took down two Centurions when they were on their own, so there might be two lone-wolves out there and let me tell you from experience: they won't be taking prisoners," John told his men, making they understood the severity of the situation. The Marines and pilots nodded their agreement to John before he turned and led them back into the ship after the Cylons.
After picking up every scent, sound and spent bullet casing for about 15 minutes, John finally found what he was looking for. "Here!" He shouted. He checked over his shoulder and ran over to a cord-phone terminal on the wall near a junction in the corridor. He pulled it out of its berth, tapped in the number for Hermes in the CIC and put it to his ear.
"Hello?" A crackly voice asked, slightly nervously.
"Hermes?" John asked, unsure as to the identity of the officer using the Petty Officer's terminal.
"Sir...? Yes, it's me... Hermes," The voice responded. John paused for a minute, now suspicious of the voice.
"Have the Cylons entered the CIC yet?" John asked slowly, still unsure about what he might be fuelling.
"No sir," The voice replied instantly and – John noted – rather robotically.
"Okay then..." John mumbled. "Then seal of CIC and wait for us, we'll be there in just a minute,"
"By your command. Is there anything-" John immediately tore the phone cord and severed the connection to the CIC. He then spun around, drew his weapon, and shot the CCTV camera that watched the phone-terminal.
"For frak's sake!" John cursed, seemingly loud enough for the whole ship to hear him. "They've got CIC," John told the puzzled group behind him.
"What do you mean, sir?" Sidney asked, already afraid of the answer.
"The Cylons have CIC and probably everyone in it," John said, balling his fist so tight he could feel his finger nails digging into his palm.
"Then, what do we do?" Emily spoke up, once again fearing for her friends.
"We need to get to the secondary CIC. If Matt's alive he'll head there first," John replied.
"What do the toasters want with the CIC?" Sidney asked the Admiral.
"They want to take control of our ship, vent us into space, turn our guns on the Civilian Fleet when we find it and activate a Hyper-light beacon telling their 'friends' where to find us before blowing the rest of the Fleet out of the frakking sky!" John spat, using his knowledge of the fate of the Cerberus' and her fleet from the Second Battle of the Gemenon Reaches back in the first war.
"No biggie then?" Sidney joked, which was met with silence. An awkward moment later, the pilot spoke up again. "So, secondary CIC?" Sidney asked.
"This way," Sergeant Doyle told them as he stepped past the group and headed for the left-hand corridor that separated from theirs just a little ahead of them.
The popping sound of gunfire got louder and louder as the group headed down the ever darkening corridor towards the ship's secondary command centre. They hadn't seen a Cylon in a significant by the time they reached the final ladder that dropped them down onto the same level as the second CIC. Sergeant Doyle, who was still leading them, halted the group around the top of the ladder and peaked under the roof of the lower level. His gun raised, the short man searched around the room at the bottom, of the short ladder.
"Anything Sergeant Doyle?" John whispered as the Sergeant continued to scan the other room.
"Nor sir, I think we're..." The Sergeant trailed off as he heard the hum of the Centurion's perpetually moving, glowing red eye. Sergeant Doyle immediately went silent waved his arm frantically behind him to signal the others to take cover. They did so and he watched intently as a Centurion marched around the ladder in the centre of its room below them and continued on through the door clearly visible to them on the other side of the room. Sidney took to his feet and started standing up when John grabbed his collar from behind and forced him back onto the ground.
"Pairs!" John whispered forcefully.
"Of course, sir. Sorry sir," Sidney replied submissively. Sure enough, seconds later, a second Centurion followed his partner into the room. It was then, suddenly and silently – like cat pouncing upon its prey – that Sergeant Doyle jumped to his feet and slid down the railings of the ladder towards the unsuspecting Cylon below. The other Marines followed suit as Sergeant Doyle got the Cylon's attention by firing an armour-piercing round right into the back of its head before it even had chance to raise its weapons in response.
John, Emily and Sidney scampered down the ladder as the Cylon's limp shell collapsed in a heap on the floor. Around them, the Marines swept every corner of the room and set up sight lines down the adjacent corridor. "Good work there Sergeant," John told Sergeant Doyle.
"Just doing the job, Admiral," The Sergeant replied courteously, although a smile danced subtly over his lips from the pleasure he took in taking his revenge on the destructors of their homeworlds. John continued past Doyle and poked his head out from the side of the doorway in front of them that had been semi-secured by the Marines after the destruction of the Centurion.
"Any sign of more?" Sidney asked as he stepped up behind John.
"Not yet, but since he isn't back yet I bet he'll have gone to find some more friends," John told Sidney.
"Our next move?" Emily asked, joining them in the empty doorframe.
"I'd say rig the room to blow when the rest come back," Sidney suggested. Emily pulled him around by his shoulder and stood up to her full height, which was still half-a-head below the Major.
"Sid, I don't know if you've noticed, but we are on a Battlestar! Which, I hope you realise is a ship... in space! We can't simply blow up an entire room and expect not to be sucked into oblivion!" Emily shouted, trying to counter Sidney 'clear stupidity'.
"Actually Emily," John interrupted, drawing the attention of the two fighting parties. "I do believe in our central location, we wouldn't be taking too much of a risk,"
"Sir?" Emily asked, confused as to why the Admiral wasn't taking her side.
"I agree sir," Sergeant Doyle said, adding to the discussion whilst still watching their rear. "We are far enough away from both the ship's exterior and any armouries that armour piercing fragmentation explosives would only caused paint-scratching at worst, minor structural damage at worst,"
"Precisely. We can't risk structural damage when we are obviously going to need it in a much shorter timeframe than you boys seem to be expecting," Emily snapped, significantly louder and fiercer than she had in the past.
"At this rate there won't be much structure left to damage," John said, concluding the argument and silencing any noises of complaint from Lieutenant Jartell. "Set the explosives and meet down the hall in two minutes. Can you fire them remotely?" He asked.
"Of course sir," Doyle replied.
"Then we'll see you when it's done," Sergeant Doyle gave the Admiral a salute which the Admiral returned before he started leading a contingent of Marines out of the room and down the corridor while also dragging Emily by her arm behind them.
John was leading the group at quite a rate away from the area of the blast when the explosives rocked the ship, as if a small ground-quake had shook the ground beneath them. Behind them, Sergeant Doyle and two of the black-clad Marines came sprinting away from the explosion. The three came to a halt behind John and the others and took a second to catch their breath before responding. "Three down sir," Sergeant Doyle said between breaths.
"Very good work Sergeant," John commended the men before him. "But we haven't got time to celebrate. There could be anything up to ten toasters sitting in my bridge as of this moment and I need them gone. Are we ready?" John asked, looking around at everyone. They all nodded in acknowledgment and the Admiral turned on his heel and marched on down the corridor leaving the others to keep up.
Fifteen minutes – and three Centurions – later, John, the marines and a few extra crewmembers picked up along the way, reached the final junction to the corridor that lead alongside the CIC and connected into it through the rotating doors. Sergeant Doyle was following on from the rear, covering them whilst simultaneously speaking to a few of his colleagues on the re-opened radio link to the rest of the ship which – fortunately for them – the Cylons didn't seem to know about, at least John didn't think they did or else he wouldn't have allowed them to continue sending messages to each other. "Any idea of numbers in there Sergeant?" Emily asked, her spirit lifted after the success of the explosives in only destroying the Cylons a while previously.
"Hold on," Doyle said to quiet her. "I'm just getting to that," The Sergeant lifted the hand-held radio to his ear and listened intently for a moment before speaking again, leaving the group in an anticipative silence. "We have one Centurion trying to get back into the hangar but we've got it secured and another two trying to reach Fire Control,"
"Is Fire Control secure?" John asked concernedly.
"Of course sir, I've got five men down there at the moment," The Sergeant told John reassuringly. John nodded as he counted up the numbers in his head.
"We've taken down nine and with five elsewhere, there must be eight around CIC," Emily said before John could.
"Yes, and I assume that'll mean four inside and four out," John guessed. He took a deep breath as he silently glided over to the corner of the junction and – his back to the wall – peeked around the corner, grimacing in case he came face-to-face with another Centurion. Luckily however, John saw an empty corridor for about five to ten metres down to the entrance to the CIC which had two Centurions standing watch.
The Admiral gesticulated towards one of the Marines' rifle indicated for the soldier to throw it to him. The Marine did as he was told and threw his rifle to John who caught it and pointed it around the corner, his eye glued to the scope. John moved the gun stealthily around until he saw the red reticule fall over the closer Cylon's head. He took a slow breath as he tightened his index finger around the trigger and – careful not to fire accidentally in the wrong direction – gently squeezed it until the rifle fired a single shot at the Centurion's head.
John then watched as the Centurion spun around to react and saw the bullet he had fired ping off of the side of the Centurion's shiny silver skull. "Frak..." John whispered surprise. "Frak!" John repeat, albeit at a shout rather than a whisper.
As the two Centurions started marching towards them John threw down the rifle in panic and looked frantically around at the other Marines' weapons. "Who here actually has explosive or AP rounds in their weapon?" John asked frantically as the Cylons closed in. One of the Marines raised his hand and offered up his rifle to the Admiral. John slapped it away and said: "Don't frakking give it to me! Shoot for the gods' sakes!" The Marine and three of his compatriots nodded and raised their weapons as the Centurions appeared around the corner. The Marines opened fire as the others, who still had special rounds in their side-arms pulled out their weapons and joined in. The Centurions did the same and cut down the first two Marines and a deckhand behind them before being taken down by all thirteen standing Colonials.
Emily reached down to the fallen men and women but was pulled up synchronously by Sidney and John who lead the others charging into the corridor to get as far as possible before more Centurions appeared to stop them.
Sergeant Doyle led his Marines to pin themselves along the adjacent wall to the entrance into the CIC as John told his people to do the same. John and Doyle took to the front of the Colonial line as the doors opened again and another Centurion came out to greet them. This time, however, the Colonials were prepared and met the Centurion in turn with AP rounds directly to the head as it fired its one and only shot, which impacted Emily in the shoulder forcing her to collapse to the ground. "Storm the CIC!" John ordered Sergeant Doyle when he saw Emily fall down behind the Marines. Sergeant Doyle nodded and barked an order at his men before charging through the slowly closing doors.
Sidney and John caught Emily as she collapsed onto the floor, blood starting to pour out from the wound on her shoulder. The Lieutenant started to lose consciousness as Sidney attempted to cover the wound with his hands and John tried to keep her awake. Slowly though, her eyes closed softly and John reached his fingers through her hair to her neck where he tried to find a pulse which – to his relief – he did find.
As John's mind returned to the battle however, he heard nothing but the loud bangs of gunfire from the room next-door and... footsteps. Fearing the worst John stood up and was faced down by a charging Centurion that had come around from the other side of the CIC to flank them at the front door. As soon as John could raise his weapon however, a series of shots from the other side of the Cylon caused it to fall flat on the floor, just a metre from the last crewman at the back of the group.
Behind where the Centurion had previously stood, John watched as two familiar figures led their own small group of survivors down the corridor, rifles raised. Captains Gemini and Stoneham, the leaders of the group came to a halt over the fallen Centurion. "What's going on?" Hera asked, her eyes falling to Emily on the ground.
"Emily got hit and Doyle's storming the CIC," John informed them quickly, pointed to both the injured Lieutenant and the door behind him.
"I've got this," Karl 'Crow' Stoneham told Hera and John as he set off towards the CIC to help Doyle with four armed deckhands and a Marine following on behind. As they reached the doors however, the gunfire stopped and Doyle emerged, dragging out an old man dressed in a Colonial uniform.
"What's this, Sergeant?" John asked Doyle as he read the patch on the officer's shoulder which indicated that he was the XO from the Mercury.
"This one was with the toasters. He got them to stop firing," Doyle said angrily. He shoved the Colonel onto his knees in front of John and nodded over his shoulder to his Marines who put a series of rounds in the two surviving Centurions who had been 'told' to surrender by the weathered old man in front of John.
"Is it true?" John said, not surprised that someone would attempt to save themselves by cooperation, even if this particular way was rather unorthodox.
"Of course, God's cleanse must be fully achieved," The old man said. John rolled his eyes, remembering the one-god-worshipping Cylon sympathisers from the First War.
"What's his name?" John asked Doyle.
"John Cavil. Colonel John Cavil," The man said, standing up and answering the question for the Sergeant. Cavil held out his hand for John to shake, which John promptly slapped away.
"Why?" John asked plainly and simply.
"It is the will of God and the will of my people," Cavil replied. "Humanity must fall," At this, John gave Doyle a quick, confirming look and the Sergeant shoved Cavil back onto his knees.
"And you don't even try and deny it?" John asked.
"Of course not. I'm proud of what I did for my people," Cavil told him. "And I hope you will be too," The old Colonel said to Specialist Sally Six, who was one of Crow's group about to enter the CIC.
"Don't bring anyone else into this!" John snapped. "Now what people are you talking about?"
"The great Cylon of course," Cavil proclaimed. John rolled his eyes.
"Fine then," John sighed. "Have it your way," And with that, John pulled out his side-arm and shot Cavil through the skull.