DR: Well, it's that time again. I know that you're all champing at the bit to see the Alliance get what it deserves...
Sheppard: You're damn right we are!
DR: ... But I promise that it won't be long now. Just a couple more things to set into place...
Chapter 26: Old Friends and New Toys
"The Alliance fleet is vast! How can you expect us to stand against them?"
"This ship could easily..."
"So why are we needed then? If this ship can handle the Alliance alone, and I seriously doubt that, why should we risk our necks?"
"It's the principle! By having us there, it shows that it's not just them!"
Achilles sighed quietly as the argument began another round. He'd brought the various ship captains on board to discuss tactics and goals, but so far there had not been any accord. At least half of these men were thuggish, brutal men, hardened by years of crime and skulduggery. The others were mainly honest traders and haulers, hit hard by Alliance reforms and all but banished to the rim. Pirates, smugglers, traders, mercenaries and merchants, all bound together by their disgust for the Alliance.
And all unable to get past their distrust of each other.
He looked over towards the commander of the Wolves Dancer, who had arrived promptly to his summons. Unlike the others, he hadn't complained about being summoned; in fact, he'd acted like he'd expected it. So far he'd remained mostly silent, watching the others. In contrast to them his skin tone was a darker reddish brown, and he wore his hair long and tied back.
The next seat contained a very uncomfortable looking Commander Harken, captain of the Alliance made Unity class ship that was sat nearby. Achilles had been pleasantly surprised when he had received a call from him, asking if he would allow former Alliance personal and ships to fight alongside his own. That revelation had not gone down well with the other captains at all.
As he watched the others bicker, Achilles wondered if he could come up with a reasonable enough excuse to slip out...
The ships comm clicked. "Colonel Achilles to the bridge."
As the others sat silently, started at the interruption, Achilles reached for the nearest comm. "Achilles here. What's the problem?" He asked sternly.
"Sir, we have seven unknown contacts closing fast."
"Alliance?"
"Negative sir. Speed and power readings too high."
Achilles didn't waste a moment. "Sound the alert. I'm coming up."
Even before he reached the hatch the alert klaxon began to sound, the lighting circuits pitching the ships interior into a dim red light to conserve power.
"Hey, what about us?"
Achilles paused at the hatch, looking back at the captains. Most were half out of their chairs, fear clear across their faces. Commander Harken looked tense, clearly having picked up on the worried tones that had come across the comm. Commander Whiteback however was as impassive as before, but like Harken he was stood at a ready stance.
"I have taken this ship to a combat alert stance until such time as we can identify the incoming ships. Hopefully, they will be more of our ships. However, I must ask you all to remain here for the moment." He paused, his eyes on the two commanders. "Commander Harken, Commander Whiteback, please accompany me." He strode out as he others began to protest: he'd already wasted enough time.
It took less than two minutes to reach the bridge, by which time the ship was ready for combat. Leaving the two guests to look about in awe at the expansive chamber, Achilles plunged into the centre towards his command pedestal. "Report!" He bellowed as he stepped up onto the top.
"Sir, we have seven discreet contacts closing at high speed, beyond that allowed by current Alliance technology. Size, mass and power readings of six of them consistent with... Cylon heavy gunships sir."
A rippled of tension ran round the bridge, strong enough that even Harken noticed. He looked at Whiteback, who looked back, shrugging his shoulders fractionally.
Back in the centre of the bridge Achilles forced the bile that had risen back down his throat. "Form scan?"
"Not in range yet sir. Two minutes to effective range."
Achilles frowned. "Stand by to launch fighters, on my order only."
The next two minutes crawled by, with the sensor officer calling out the range as it decreased. As he was still using the Colonial measurements, Harken could not get a feel for the range. But it was ominous at how the range was decreasing so quickly...
"Entering form scan range... scan in progress... Warbook has no match... Wait… Sir, Warbook says we have a Colonial military Freighter!"
"Sir! We're receiving a transmission!" The comms operator called out.
"Patch it through!" Achilles snapped, his eyes jumping between the form scan image and the screen. 'Elements of those new craft look Colonial, but why have they got a freight...'
Then the image came on, and the face that was displayed brought all his thoughts to a halt. "Apollo!?!"
The image of Apollo smiled. "Hello Achilles. Staying on your toes?"
Achilles breathed out. "Yes, now. You just had to drop in unannounced, didn't you?"
"Couldn't risk anyone listening in knowing about us yet. From what your report you sent back said, things are coming to a head in this system."
"Very true Apollo, unfortunately. You are most welcome. Though how did you manage to persuade Sheba to let you come? I thought she wasn't letting you out of her sights for anything."
On the screen Apollo grinned before leaning to one side. Entering the frame from the other side came Sheba's head, a mischievous spark in her eyes. "Who said I let him out of my sight?" She asked cheekily.
Achilles smiled himself. "Should have guessed." He turned away from the screen to address his bridge crew. "All hands, stand down. Prepare both landing bays for arrivals." He looked at the screen again. "You're cleared for both landing bays. We'll meet you two in Alpha bay."
X-X-X-X-X-X
Mal watched closely as the three new craft eased into the landing bay. To his eye, these boats were clearly combat craft, and mean examples of such.
Overall, they were about two-thirds the size of Serenity. Mal eyeballed them as having two decks, with the cockpit on the upper one. As he watched them drift into their landing zones, Mal couldn't help but notice how the craft had a very similar design to the battlestars... or the Thunderchild.
They had blunted, arrowhead noses, with an extra wedge on the top face that enclosed the cockpit. Near the back of the prow four sections stood proud on the dorsal and ventral surfaces, two to each surface, and each one supporting a minimalist twin turret. From the upper rear of the prow a narrow hull ran back before flaring out into the engine section. On the leading edges of the stern – again mounted one dorsal, one ventral – were two much larger twin turrets.
From the narrow hull thick 'wings' extended, angling downwards in an arc very similar to that of Thunderchild's own, before ending in very flat, narrow outrider pods. Mal couldn't see any reason for their presence except aesthetics, but then again the Colonials never built their ships for aesthetics. There had to be a reason, and Mal was sure it had something to do with the laser barrels that poked out of the front ends. They were mismatched, a single, large barrel emerging from the top face, and twin, smaller barrels from the lower.
Triangular wings, very much like those on the Vipers, emerged from the outside of the pods. Mal squinted as he looked closely. It appeared that the edges of the fins matched up with the edges of the main wing sections. Twin smaller fins were mounted on each side of the stern, angled apart. The whole craft was painted in the same style as the Vipers; an off-white base with stripe markings. These craft carried dark grey stripes, making a sharp contrast to the white.
As they settled down, long skids extended from the side pods, taking the weight of the heavy looking craft with the tips of the wings just clear of the deck.
As ever with a craft of any size, there were several seconds after the craft had landed where it appeared that nothing was happening. Then a ramp tilted down from the lower half of the prow's rear face, and the sound of boots could be heard.
Kaylee smiled brightly and walked quickly over to the craft with a prominent '1' painted on the side as the two figures stepped out from underneath the craft. "Sheba!" She called before wrapping the older woman in a hug, which Sheba returned. Mal meanwhile walked over to greet Apollo.
"Major." He said holding his hand out.
"Captain Reynolds." Apollo replied with an easy smile as he took Mal's wrist Colonial style. Mal looked up at the craft besides them.
"Nice boat you have now. Though I thought you'd be flying the Freedom." He said, referring to the gunship that Apollo had flown in the Cylon Assault.
Apollo sighed. "She was a good ship, but her hull was too thin, the systems rushed. The engineers found stress fractures forming at the wing roots." Apollo shrugged. "It was decided to retire her and create a new class of gunship, built from the start with Colonial materials and technology..." He trailed off as the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps came from behind Mal. Mal quickly stepped to one side, guessing who would be approaching that quickly.
He was right, as Athena all but stormed through the space he had vacated to wrap her brother up in a tight hug. "It's so good to see you!" She half squealed in joy.
Over the next few minutes others joined the reunion. Starbuck chuckling and grinning, Boomer quietly happy, Inara graceful as ever. Sheba pulled Athena and Inara off to one side a little way through, and both Apollo and Mal looked at them, then at each other. A slow nod passed between them. They could guess what the women were talking about.
Achilles arrived at that moment. After greeting Apollo, he looked over at the three women, then looked back at the other two. "They're talking about us, aren't they?"
"I'd say it is a fair bet." Mal answered as the three women all giggled together, Inara throwing a furtive glance towards Mal as Kaylee joined the huddle
"We're in trouble now." Apollo spoke for all thee of them.
X-X-X-X-X-X
Athena strode through the passageways of Thunderchild, anticipation dancing in her gut. Achilles had invited her to dine with him this evening, in his quarters, while they went over her report. While his words themselves had been plain and quite free of any form of innuendo, there had been a slight tilt to his head, a dancing spark in his eye that had told her that he intended to go over other things then the report of her engagement with the Reavers.
The result was that she had been divided about what to wear. For any formal encounter, such as his words said, she would have worn her uniform. But his expression and unspoken message suggested something more... intimate.
In the end, she'd decided to trust her instincts and gone with a flowing white dress, her favourite. It had made a few eyebrows rise when she exited the shuttle she had flown across between the ships, but she had seen the slight smile on the various faces. Both crews approved.
She came to a stop before the hatch to his quarters, taking a moment to check that the dress was seated correctly. Like many Colonial fashion designs, her arms were completely bare, with a long, full skirt leading up into a semi tight body. As she reached for the announcer, she was certain that Achilles would be able to hear her heart hammering beneath her breast.
"Enter." Achilles voice came from within after the sound of the chime faded. Tapping the release, she stepped inside...
...And smiled when she saw that his desk had been transformed into a candlelit dinner for two. The main lights were low, allowing the softly burning candles to become the primary source of light. Achilles stood at the near end, neatly dressed. He smiled warmly as he looked at her.
"Truly, you are a goddess."
Athena felt her face flush slightly. "Thank you." She followed his gesture to the seat before the desk turned table. After he had pushed her chair in for her, he stepped around to seat himself. She looked once more at the desk. "So why are we using your desk instead of having a proper table brought in?" She asked lightly.
Achilles smiled as he sat. "Unlike your fathers old ship, we don't have the space to store such rarely used items. Besides..." He slid his arm across the space between them, resting his hand over her own. "...I think this is actually better than a formal table."
Athena smiled warmly as he squeezed her hand for a moment before letting go to serve the meal.
As they ate, they talked about a few things concerning the Alliance, and their encounters during their time in this system. He congratulated her on her intercession with the Reavers, while she commented on his tack with the various elements in the system. They also went over the details of the Darkstar class gunship, which Apollo had flown in earlier that day. Those six small craft were a major investment of firepower, and already Achilles was working on ways to include them in his possible battle plans.
Athena had to admit, the Darkstar was an impressive design. She had not mentioned it at the time, but the Freedom had never 'felt' right to her. The Darkstar however followed Colonial design, and fitted a lot of equipment into its tight hull. One of the tricks used had been to implement some Zoidian technology into the craft, mainly into the fire-control systems, removing the need for gunners. With a crew of only two, the Darkstar's had been designed for long range patrols, close escort of warships, freighters and Viper-Bombers, 'Raider' style attacks and exploration. With their array of powerful lasers they had the teeth to defend themselves quite handsomely, while the variable bays in the prow allowed them to carry a payload of Solonite missiles or sensor packages, depending on the mission.
As the evening went on, they drifted to the long low seats beneath the wide porthole, a glass of ambrosia in their hands. Time drifted by as they sat there, her shoulder tucked under his arm, with her legs across his lap. Their talk had drifted away from the Alliance and their current concerns to their hopes and dreams. They had started having these kinds of talks while he was recuperating from his injuries after the Cylon assault. They both knew that this easy familiarity between them showed how strong their bond was.
As they had talked, Achilles had slowly stroked her arm and side, gradually taking longer and slower strokes. Athena recognised it as a part of the classic Scorpio seduction; slow but relentless, a gradual building of passion that was almost as delicious as the final act itself. It had become a game to them. He would use nothing more than his touch on the outside of her clothing to try to stop her continuing the conversation. Under the rules that neither of them had spoken of but both knew were there, he had to be fully engaged in the conversation, while she could not do anything to stop him from trying to seduce her.
Even as her mind focused on the sensations that Achilles was inducing in her through his touch her mouth continued to bring forth words in a meaningful way...that is until his hand just brushed the side of her breast, and her mounting passion jumped forward and demanded attention. She was cut off mid word to exhale a purr of pleasure.
Achilles, smiling in triumph, bent over her slightly to capture her mouth with his. Athena allowed her eyes to fall closed as his hand slid up over her shoulder blade to use a feather light touch on her jaw. He always won in the end. It was a part of his psyche. He had to win, but it would be meaningless if she didn't put up a fight. To be fair though, this was one contest that Athena didn't mind losing at all.
'Although...' she mused to herself as she felt his nimble fingers start to undo the fasteners of her dress '...there is a certain thrill to drawing it out as long as possible.'
DR: And that's our que to leave them alone.
Jayne: *glazed look*...I'll be in my bunk. *walks away quickly*
*Everyone watches him leave*
Harry: Too much infomation...
Hermione: I agree.
Teal'c: Indeed.
DR: Right, well... One more chapter, and then we start the retribution...*evil grin*