34 days since the Cylon Attack
"Jump complete…"
The communications officer reports, "All ships reported in, battle group standing by."
The commander of the battlestar nodded, "Very good, set course for Scorpia Shipyard and report our arrival to Helios Gamma traffic control."
"This is BattleStar Group 38, returning from deep space patrol, recognition code 1-8-0-niner-2-4-6-0-niner. We are setting course for Scorpia Shipyard. Helios Gamma traffic control do you read me? Over." Very quickly it became apparent that something was wrong, the FTL communication system was utterly silent. No return communication and no signal beacon for traffic control. Confused the comm tech scanned the standard light speed comm frequency and besides the Battlegroup it was also silent. Hands flowed over the system as the comm tech did some quick checks and lowered the signal threshold for detection. At once several weak signals came up. "Ah… sir… you had better see this…"
Rear Admiral James Taylor attention was piqued by the overt fear he heard in the Petty Officers voice. The status board showed multiple emergency signals. Among the signals was 'This is an official Colonial Government broadcast. All ministers and officials should now go to Case Orange. Repeat: This is an official Colonial Government broadcast. All ministers and officials should now go to Case Orange.' A few seconds pass by and then Taylor barks an order, "Battlegroup prepare for emergency jump, coordinates last jump point!"
Colonel Francine Richardson did a double take but the tone of the admiral while harsh was in control. So, she went over to the navigation officer and made sure the order was being carried out. With the coordinates ready and then passed on to the ships of the battlegroup, "Ready."
"JUMP!"
XXX
Deep inside of the Battlestar Mars Rear Admiral Taylor had assembled his senior officers. The recon raptor flights into the home system had discovered a terrifying situation. The 12 colonies had been wiped out utterly. The only human transmissions detected where automated systems still sending out signals for help since the fall of the colonies. A number of Cylon signals and in some cases, ships had been detected in the fallen colonies. By jumping out 34 light days from the system it had been possible to gather a great deal of information, the colonies dump or had dumped a great deal of information into space from radio signals. While much of the information was lost at that distance enough remained to paint a picture.
The twelve officers that made up the command team of BSG-38 looked over the assembled data in what could best be described as mix of horror and rage.
"No way to sugar coat it, the Cylons fracked us totally and completely. For all we know, the people in our four ships are the last of humanity. If anyone has any ideas, I am tossing this wide open." The commander of BSG-38 looked like he had bitten into something very nasty as he spoke.
Colonel Francine Richardson had always strived to maintain as military of a demeanor as possible, going so far as to maintain a marine crewcut. This despite regulation allowing her to keep her hair much longer. In theory protocol would call for allowing one of the Commanders to speak before the executive officers but Richardson spoke up first, "There is nothing to talk about, we go hunting and kill, keep killing the Cylons till we run out of ammo and then we ram them with our ships."
Everyone in the room did a double take at Richardson's suggestion.
The commanding officer of Battlestar Herja felt a strong desire to join the call to just throw themselves as the Ceylon's, "I get the anger, the rage you are feeling Colonel, Gods know I am feeling it too but anger is a poor master. If we are indeed the last humans then we have an obligation to humanity to not just throw ourselves away. At same time despite it being a month I tend to doubt that the Cylons have managed to kill everyone. We are a clever and hardy species with billions in the system they haven't gotten us all."
The Admiral nodded at that point, one he had been wondering to himself over and over, are they truly the last humans? "Fight, flight or try to rescue survivors we have to keep sight of the logistics and our numbers, two Battlestars, two Berzerk class cruisers, a tylium replenishment tanker and a combat stores ship are long odds against the type of firepower the Cylons must have."
Richardson wasn't willing to let go of her desire for blood just yet, "From the broadcasts we picked up we know the Cylons had to have pulled something with our computer systems. Those reports of Battlestars just powering down points to a hacking game of some sort. We figure out how they pulled that and we won't go down as easy."
The executive officer of the cruiser Svinfylk Major Thorn couldn't resist a frown crossing her dark face, "The Admiral is correct we can't lose sight of logistics. Whatever munitions we have on board are it, whatever Tylium is it, whatever food we have onboard is it, yah Mars can build replacement Vipers and Raptors but we only have the people onboard. I am not seeing us liberating the Colonies and kicking toaster ass to whatever rock they had been hiding under the last few decades."
The debate went round and round for several more minutes but it quickly crystallized. No one other than Colonel Richardson desired to just strike blindly at the Cylons. For now, they needed more information on what was going on within the colonies and they needed supplies.
A 2D map of the Helios quaternary system that made up the twelve colonies of Kobol was laid out on the admirals table.
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Major Shimerman the commander of the Opis class combat stores ship had come prepared. At her side was a tablet that had the Colonial Space Transport Command list of bases and items. She frowned looking at the map. "We ignore anything that was on or in orbit of colonies proper Admiral?"
"That's correct major and let's ignore the belts for the moment until we can get a better idea of where the Cylons are at."
"Deep space outposts, planetoid outposts and the gas giant anchorages are our options then Admiral." Shimerman tapped the five gas giants of the system, Hera, Hestia, Ophion, Ragnar and Zeus.
Richardson put aside her anger focusing on the problem, "I recommend we start with the gas giant anchorages. If strong EM fields are still an issue for the toasters then those are where we are most likely to find other colonials and intact infrastructure."
"Any of the anchorages will have things we need in different quantities." Shimerman waved her tablet for emphasize.
The other colonial officers slowly nodded but everyone waited for Admiral Taylor to make the call. "Recon missions then…"
XXX
The executive officer of the Berzerk class Ulfheon Tasha Crosby moved around the cramped command center. Berzerk class were well under half the mass of a battlestar and every bit of space was at a premium. The dirty blond Major swept the status board, "Commander the recon raptors are ready to launch."
"Very well Major start the jump clock, we dump the raptors as soon as we complete our jump and then get the frack out of there."
The jump clock started to count down and the Majors voice informed the crew to prepare for jump. As the timer ran out Ulfheon jumped to Helios Beta, the star system that Virgon and Leonis colonies called home. Or did before they became nuclear wastelands. The jump goal wasn't the two former colonies it was the gas giant Hera and in particular Hera Fleet Anchorage. From the first Cylon War it was known that the powerful radiation and magnetic fields were lethal to Cylon AIs. Gas giants like Hera and Ragnar became home to fleet anchorages as locations that the Cylons just couldn't attack.
Ulfheon jumped on the far side of Hera in the shadow of ones of its moon, Iris. It took a few moments for systems of the cruiser to stabilize and four raptors launched from the hanger bay beneath the cruiser. Once the FTL Drive reset Ulfheon jumped back to the battle group.
The mission plotted out was high stealth but also risky. The four raptors would do a single high-power burn in the shadow of Iris and then go dark letting their momentum carry them around Hera past the location of the fleet anchorage. The recon mission would be purely passive with no active DRADIS. This would greatly decrease the information gathered but also protect the raptors from counter detection. Of course, with the systems all on standby if Cylons jumped on top of the raptors the recon flight would be helpless to react.
XXX
In the interstellar void Mars and her battlegroup sat in the infinite blackness between the stars. The four Colonial ships were waiting for the raptor patrol to return any moment.
FLASH!
The four raptors jumped in and returned home.
"BSG-38 this is Raptor recon flight… requesting permission to land, mission complete."
Even Taylor couldn't help letting out a sigh of relief at the safe return of the recon flight. As the raptors belonged to Ulfheon their C&C gave the instructions and guided the flight home.
XXX
The senior officers were gathered again and this time the raptor pilots crowded into the planning room on Mars. The junior officers felt out of place in the presence of the Admiral, Commanders and XOs.
On a table besides the cups of tea and coffee are high quality print outs of the recon flight. Hovering above the storm eye on Hera that is home to the anchorage is a space craft; it has a double Y configuration and dozens of small scimitar shaped craft.
Colonel Richardson picks up one of the copies of the large spaceship, "Looks like a Cylon War Argos class Basestar…" The Colonel grabs a tablet and does a brief search of the records from 40 years ago, "Yup same layout."
As Colonial officers all were familiar with Cylon designs but Richardson had gotten a masters at staff collage on the designs of Cylon warships.
"If the weapons mix holds true from first war, we are looking at lots of raiders…". Richardson picked up one of the better-quality shots of the scimitar shaped birds.
The raptor crews gave a brief description of viewing some of the smaller Cylon craft landing on the big ship.
Taylor nodded, "What I want to know is why are they covering the eye to the anchorage?"
A quick debate revolved around the ideas of 'human ships were in the anchorage' or 'prevent human ships from entering the anchorage' or both. Places like the anchorage were obvious locations for survivors in ships to hideout in or try to.
"I expect we will find similar pickets at the other anchorages." The other officers gave a nod.
"Whats the play Admiral? With that backdoor closed in the CNP they won't just turn us off like the fleet." The commander of the Battlestar Herja asks. Commander Nickoline Hender had spent most of the last few days leading the search on finding the backdoor program the CYLON S used.
The admiral smiles, "We drop on top of the toasters and empty our guns into them. Hopefully we can burn them down before they can react."
There are uncomfortable chuckles around the table from the other officers.
XXX
Helios Beta
Gas Giant Hera
38 Days since the Cylon attack
FLASH!
The jump was plotted with care and was nearly perfect, the four colonial warships of BSG-38 returned to normal space directly above the massive storm in the upper atmosphere of Hera. It would be too much to expect the Cylon Basestar to have not moved in the last few hours. Still it was within gunnery range and that was good enough for the Colonials.
The four ships had been at Condition One well before the jump with all of the crews at their combat posts. Even so machine reacted faster than humanity with the lone Basestar sending its brood of raiders and vectoring its combat space patrol towards the colonial ships.
"Launch the vipers and raptors as planned, copy the rest of the battle group…" Admiral Taylor looked intently at the DRADIS as the Cylon raider swarm formed up. The two Battlestars and the two escorts launched their own swarm of fighters and raptors.
Human form Cylons on the basestar had their hands in the fluid that allowed them to interface with the computer systems. The raiders and basestar attempted the backdoor into the CNP but it was closed. This was hardly a surprise to the Cylons at this point but this was the first time since the last war they had faced a fully prepared multi-battlestar group. The Colonials elected for pure offense with their gun batteries laying down fire on the basestar while their small craft raced forward. Humanity would trust in their armor and flak batteries. The amount of firepower coming towards the basestar was unlike anything they had seen.
"Hull breach sector 165 Charlie, hull breach, multiple hull breaches, closing off effected sections. Major system failures. End Line. We are the Dead. Short days ago we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow. End Line. Nuclear Devices Active..." From within her bath the hybrid thrashed in pain as the basestar died.
"The Cylon Basestar is coming apart!"
A special alarm klaxon rang out across the command center of the Battlestar Mars. The tactical officer cried out, "In bound nukes! Multiple!"
Admiral Taylor took a deep breath, "Prepare for impact…"
Those that could all glanced at the DRADIS with the nuclear warheads noted. Most held their breath as the readouts for the nukes disappeared one by one.
A predator's smile blossomed across Colonel Richardson's face as the last nuke disappeared well short of the battlegroup. "Die fracking toasters."
Space above the gas giant filled with a derbies field that marked the death of the Cylon Basestar. At once the raptors dove for the swirling clouds that marked the location Hera Fleet Anchorage. Quickly a report came. Besides the anchorage there were thirteen ships hiding in the eye of the storm. Taylor ordered the two cruisers to head in while the two Battlestars stood watch. A raptor retrieved Opis the combat storeship and Noel Shaw the Tyllium tanker from deep space to join the cruisers in loading supplies
Major Crosby had raced from the crowded CIC to one of the two main hatches along the flank of Ulfheon. They were on the clock, there was no telling how long before the Cylons arrived in overwhelming strength. Ulfheon and Svinfylk were to dock with the anchorage and strip whatever wasn't nailed down.
In the CIC of Ulfheon Colonel Hera Graystone was giving the prepared instructions that the admiral had worked out in advance against this possibility. The possibility of finding human survivors. The instructions were simple, ships without FTL drives to evacuate crews and passengers to the ships with FTL drives and be ready to leave within one hour.
Resurrection Ship in orbit of Virgon.
The raiders and humanoid Cylons began to resurrect. As a model 1 slowly pulls himself up a 2 and 4 start to ask questions.
The 1 tries to answer, "We were ambushed over Hera…"
"Was it Galactica or Pegasus?" the model 2 asks.
The mental confusion of resurrection clouds his mind, "Pegasus I think… but she wasn't alone there were three other Colonial warships."
From a nearby resurrection tank a 5 that had also resurrected interrupts, "It wasn't Pegasus, it was the Battlestar Mars along with a Valkyrie class and there were also a pair of cruisers."
The 2 and 4 looks at each other in horror, "Four more Colonial Warships survived?!"
XXX
Luckily for the Colonials it takes some time for resurrection to complete especially when a large number of Cylons resurrect. Like when a basestar with its entire crew and all of its raiders are destroyed. So by the time eight base stars jumped to the Gas Giant Hera, Mars and her battle group were long gone.
XXX