Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica 2003 or Caprica. They belong to their respective creators and/or Copyright owners. This story is written with no commercial aim. I make no money from it. It is not for sale of rent.
The Cylon Wars
Chapter 3: Ragnarok rising
Part 3
Battlestar Ares
High orbit over Caprica
The Battlestar shuddered under John's feet when three missiles slammed into its port side. Fortunately they all had conventional warheads – so far not a single Cylon nuke had made it through the defenses. That wasn't going to last. The toasters were advancing and relentlessly cutting the range.
"Raptors?" The Admiral asked.
"The last will be rearmed and out in a minute. However, we already have birds red on ammo." The CAG answered.
"No matter. All Raptors are to advance and flush their missiles against the Raiders engaging our Vipers. At the same time the CAP is to make combat landings. We're jumping on low orbit in two minutes. Surviving Vipers are to break engagement and pull back as practical."
There was a moment of silence on the bridge. Demeter could feel the CAG's glare despite the man being close to the flight pods. John was well aware that his orders were signing the death sentences of most fighter jocks outside – he doubted that more than a few would successfully pull back before being swarmed and blown to bits.
Unfortunately, the situation didn't give him many tactical options. Once those basestars closed the range, they would be able to concentrate their fire more effectively and destroy the Colonial ships standing between them and Caprica.
"The last enemy ships to jump in are closing on the Columbia." The Dradis operator announced.
Demeter's eyes snapped to the part of the plot representing the flank. Sure enough, now there were thirteen baseships flying straight at the aging Battlestar. Behind the bigger group one of the Cylon capitals was drifting – leaking air, water and fuel with a chunk of debris representing enemy taken down by Columbia.
Still, a single Battlestar and escort had no prayer in hell of slowing down, much less stopping the weight of metal coming their way.
Demeter tapped a couple of buttons and zooming in. He stared at the enemy approach vector interposed by the tactical computer as well as their speed. It was going to be close. Perhaps too close – that flank was going to get hammered before the jump.
Fortunately, the Columbia class were tough ships – even harder to destroy than the newer and smaller Valkyries. Nevertheless, that didn't make them even close to invincible.
"XO any word on the planetary defenses?"
Colonel Olgerlooked up from the console he was looking at. "We lost all the automation. CDC," which stood for Caprica Defense Command, "believes that they will have at least few satellites on manual control operational shortly – for as long as they last or the Cylons hit the laser transmitters."
"That might buy us a few more minutes. The stations?"
"The one above Caprica city already has a crew on board, however it was shut down before they could take out the CNP. We've been trying to raise it, but no joy."
Each colony had at least a handful of battle stations hovering above the capitals. The wealthier ones like Caprica, had more – above major population and industrial centers. Most of them were hulls from decommissioned ships with most internals ripped out, leaving a lot of space for additional weapons, ammunition and armor. While potent platforms, they had one big flaw – they were locked in orbit above the locations they were meant to defend, which made them an easy target. When all was said and done, those stations were more useful as morale boost than deterrent to any attacker.
Now, if a supposedly disabled station opened fire at the Cylons – it could hurt them – a lot. Yet, that wasn't something John could count on. For all he knew, either the crew would be unable to get the damn thing online or the Cylons were going to take it out ASAP.
Still, any missiles and Raiders going after the stationary defenses meant less weapons hammering his ships and thus more time for reinforcements to arrive.
"All Raptors are in position and advancing. Jump coordinates locked in and the drives are hot." Tactical announced.
"Good. Jump in sixty seconds." Demeter ordered. "Sent signal to the fleet. Torch."
This was going to be one long minute.
=CW=
Battlestar Columbia
High orbit above Caprica
"Mad Dog evade!" A desperate warning came over the wireless.
"There are too many of..." The line went dead with a scream of static.
"Mad D...hsss..."
"Sir, we lost our last Vipers." The CAG stated flatly.
"When can we have more birds ready for launch?" Williams asked grimly. He knew what would happen to his outnumbered pilots, yet he didn't keep them back. There was no choice – the Columbia needed the Vipers additional firepower to blunt the firepower of the armada trying to kill her.
"We'll have two more birds ready in thirty." The CAG growled.
The Commander winced. That wasn't going to make any difference.
"Have the Raptors jump to the Alpha line. They're to execute combat landing and rearm when we pull back."
"Willco."
"We have hundreds Raiders and Heavy Raiders incoming." Dradis made a redundant report. "Multiple incoming missiles. Multiple inbound nukes."
Williams glanced at the clock next to the plot. Forty seconds. This was going to be bad.
"All guns, final defensive fire. Brace for impact. DC parties on stand by." The Commander ordered and went to the "nuclear"console and grabbed it for dear life. "I want a single nuclear missile ready for launch."
"Aye sir. Final defensive fire. Last Raptor is away. Firing for effect." The Weapons officer droned in a monotone – lost in his job and keeping calm only thanks to his training.
The old warships began to vibrate as every single weapon she possessed opened fire – creating a shield of steel against the incoming enemies and ordnance.
The swarm of red dots representing Raiders didn't care. They flew straight in – launching missiles and rounds all the way.
Demeter could imagine how it looked. A corona made by hundreds of detonating shells surrounded the Columbia. Each tiny explosion released either old fashioned shrapnel moving fast enough to shred both missiles and Raiders alike or the newer guided sub-munitions.
The Cylons were moving in too fast, at vectors making evasion hard to impossible, yet they were unlikely to care. Every missile that hit, every Raider that manages to ram the Columbia might just take a weapon emplacement or two out of commission, making it easier for the rest to go through.
Sooner or later a nuke would slip in, wrecking armor and obliterating weapons.
Then another and another, until the Battlestar was pounded to scrap.
And it began – the closest red dots started blinking out faster and faster as Raiders were wiped out by the dozens.
Thirty seconds.
"Hits in sectors one through three. PD degraded by five percent." DC control announced.
That had to be Raiders and light missiles – a ship-killer would have been felt even in the CIC which was buried deep within the Battlestar.
Columbia lurched to the side, nearly throwing everyone off their feet.
"Nuclear strike! Breaches on decks one through seven. Sections..."
"Forward PD degraded by fifteen percent. We lost turrets Alpha and Beta!"
Fifteen seconds.
"Seal those sections. Sent in DC." Williams was surprised how calm his voice sounded while he felt anything but. Not with his family on the ship that was getting pounded around him.
"RADIOLOGICAL ALARM! MULTIPLE NUKES INCOMING!"
"BRACE!" Karl shouted when the deck jumped under his feet. It felt like the gravity itself cut off for a moment, before returning with a vengeance. The only thing preventing him from slamming hard into the deck was his death grip on the console.
One of the marines guarding the CIC wasn't so lucky – the poor bastard was thrown by the initial impact, seemingly floated for a split second, before slamming into the deck.
"STATUS REPORT!" Williams shook his head and roared.
"We took at least couple of nukes..."
Columbia continued shacking as more and more missiles slammed into her armored form.
"Is the drive up?!" The Commander needed the most important piece of information.
"Jump's a go!" The Nav officer shouted back.
Williams slammed his fist on the nuclear launch button. "Jump now!"
The Battlestar vanished in a flash of light, leaving behind a present for the swarm of Raiders that two seconds later flew through the space she occupied. A much brighter flash followed announcing a nuclear detonation that incinerated hundreds of Cylons.
The Columbia re-appeared into real space with a lurch that made Karl slam his forehead into the console he was clutching for dear life. He shook his head in a futile attempt to chase off the stars dancing in front of his eyes and hissed as pain lanced straight through his brain.
"Report."
"We lost both pods. Hull breaches in multiple sections. Fire on decks one through fifteen, starboard quarter..." The DC officer groaned as she started listing the Battlestar's wounds.
"Tactical, status of the fleet? Did the Lion make it?"
"Unknown. Dradis is down. I'm trying to raise our Raptors for status update."
"XO you alive over there?" Williams asked while trying to keep track of the DC report. After there was no answer, Karl turned around and asked again. "XO?"
Colonel Olgerwas slumped nearby, with blood leaking from the side of his head.
"Frak. Medics to the CIC!"
=CW=
Part 4
Baseship 51
High orbit above Caprica
"FRAK THEM!" Cain roared in fury when all Colonial ships jumped away mere moments before they were swarmed to death by Raiders. Then he hissed as hundreds, no, thousands of Raiders simply vanished from the network.
The One took an instant, which was quite long for a Cylon in direct connection with a Baseship, to let his rage run its course. It helped that he had to wait for a moment so the network could recover from the combined loss of a small Raider armada, compile the fleet status and find where the frak did the Colonial ships went.
That gave Cain a moment to run over the last couple of minutes in his head. In hindsight it was obvious that even if the Colonials were going to make a last stand it wasn't going to be this far out – they were playing for time after all and that precious commodity was running out.
Ah. There. The sensors locked on the new enemy location – above Caprica city, in dangerous proximity to the so far inert defense satellites and the two disabled battle stations. A handful of Vipers were running towards the perceived safety of their mother ships, chased by the broken remains of the swarm that was supposed to kill the enemy capital ships.
Cain winced when the Hybrid finally gave him an estimate of the casualty list. While the Colonials had lost two third of their Vipers, which was one of the few "good" news the report revealed, the Raider force was gutted. Almost half of the dumb hunter-killers were wiped out by enemy nukes. More than eight thousand of them and that was just an estimate. The Heavy Raiders had fared much better – if you can call losing more than five hundred of them that…
Which Cain still might – if he actually won and burned Caprica to the ground.
The Cylon grit his teeth. Oh, he and the more reasonable among his kind knew – intellectually – that the Battlestars were better ships than the new model Baseships. That a stand up fight would be ugly.
The Plan, frak it with a Heavy Raider, Cavil too for that matter, was supposed to make sure there would be no real battles. No war to speak for – just a single devastating blow against an enemy who couldn't retaliate.
The One shook with rising fury against both his own model and the Colonials who simply refused to die. He sent orders to the fleet to redress the flanks while examining the enemy. Most of the Colonial ships were damaged – a few, like the Columbia, which was burning, heavy at that. Six of their number were outright destroyed, with many of the rest suffering various amounts of damage. Their combat capabilities were degraded.
In exchange, Cain had lost seven destroyed and eleven damaged Baseships – he could achieve worse exchange rate if he tried. Yet, The One had more than enough ships left to smash aside the remaining Colonials – if he was willing to suffer even more disproportionate casualties.
Even if a few of those defense satellites came online at the worst possible moment…
It didn't matter. Cain had to win. He had assets and had to leverage them no or lose everything.
Cain connected with the Heavy Raider sub-net and started issuing orders. Fully half of their numbers was going to jump at the edge of the atmosphere – behind the Colonials and go for planet based targets. The rest would wait until the Raiders and Baseships engaged the enemy fully, jump as close as they could and unleash their missile loads against both ships and the defense network.
Only when the orders went out and the fleet was finishing redressing its ranks, Cain had time to think and smile with relief – no one under his command contradicted his orders. No one asked for a vote in the worst possible time. If C&C fell apart at this critical time, it might mean the doom of them all.
He had to hope that God would ensure that the rest of the Cylons didn't frak up and went against their targets with vengeance instead of continuing with that voting insanity.
=CW=
CIC
Battlestar Ares
Low orbit above Caprica
Cain the Cylon wasn't the only one who went over casualty reports and wondered how to win. Admiral Demeter heard the rough damage reports from the fleet, the losses so far and found himself praying for a miracle.
This was the end of the line – he couldn't pull back any further. While he was glad that the Cylons went after his ships instead of Caprica, that wasn't going to last much longer – the kriffing toasters had the numbers to do both and still win.
"I should have pulled us out sooner." John muttered.
"Perhaps. Then the toasters would have a few thousand more Raiders to throw at us." His XO shrugged. "All planetary squadrons that could be mobilized in short notice are in the air. We have six hundred Vipers and two hundred Raptors taking position as we speak. Another few hundred are deploying as a CAP above the capital, military bases and other population centers."
"That might buy us a few more minutes." The Admiral sighed.
He looked back at the plot. The Cylon ships were assuming a phalanx formation while keeping a respectable distance from each other. A virtual wall of Raiders was taking position in front of them to screen the toasters from missile fire.
"Dradis – I'm not seeing their Heavy Raiders taking position in the formation. Give me a good look at them."
A new window opened, showing whole wings of the assault craft.
"Frak. Call CDC and inform them that they will have company any moment now."
"We can't intercept them." Zeus stated. "Even if we stripped all Vipers and sent them to protect the planet..."
"That would only see us killed faster and leave the Baseships alone to rain death too." Demeter shook his head. "Well, time's up." Demeter picked up the neares wireless communicator. "Give me a fleet wide." He looked at the Comm officer, who pressed a few buttons on his console and nodded.
"This is Admiral John Demeter. As we speak, the Cylons are coming for us. We are all that stand between them and the billions of innocent souls on Caprica. Between the soulless machines and every man, woman and child in the Colonies!" He paused for a moment. "We might be just a handful of damaged ships standing against oblivion and we will make sure that they will NOT PASS! Every second we hold them means more people reaching the shelters. More time for our comrade to rebuild their networks and come to our aid. There is only one thing I ask of you – stand tall, stand proud and make sure that not a single Cylon comes through our line as long as there is even a single Colonial soldier standing in their way!"
As he spoke, Demeter's eyes never left the plot. Groups of Heavy Raiders started blinking out just as the enemy fleet began advancing.
"The enemy comes for us. Let's give them hell!"
=CW=
Estimated losses above Caprica:
Colonials:
Battlestars:
Mercury: Ares /mod damage/ Nemesis – light damage;
Columbia: Columbia - heavy damage;
Valkyrie: 1 destroyed; 1 heavy damaged; 2 mod. damaged;
Cruisers: 5 destroyed; most others suffer from light to heavy damage;
Vipers:550
Raptors:55
Cylons:
Baseships:
Destroyed: 7
Damaged: 11
Raiders: 8951
Heavy raiders: 575