DR: Part two of the fleet battle is here! I know you're all champing at the bit, so lets jump straight in...
Chapter 31: Into the Depths
Achilles sighed in relief when he witnessed the trailing Alliance ships turn on the others. He'd resigned himself to massacring the entire fleet when they had picked up speed, but now he felt relief that he and his crew would not have too. Around him the crew raised a low cheer; they too were overjoyed that they would not have to become murderers, but at the same time they knew what this action would be costing those crews.
Thunderchild continued to close with the engagement, her lasers stabbing out. Behind her the Wolves Dancer and the former Alliance ships were burning hard to catch up.
The third Judgement was breaking up when a panicked voice called out from the sensor station. "Sir! Reading seven incoming contacts, consistent with the Nightbringer class ship we engaged before!"
A collective sharp intake of breath ran throughout the bridge, leaving it silent expect for radio chatter and the sounds of the computers. On his command pedestal Achilles leaned heavily against the railing. One Nightbringer had been trouble, but seven? While he had supreme confidence in his ship, Achilles was not arrogant. He knew that this was going to be tough.
"Plot an intercept course. Inform all the other ships to continue to engage the Alliance, and have our Vipers and Darkstars form up with us."
With grace unmatched by anything built within the system Thunderchild swung her bow up and to starboard a little, her engines flaring a little brighter as she pushed forwards, towards the oncoming Nightbringers. Unbidden, several of the other ships, including the Wolves Dancer, turned to follow.
X-X-X-X-X-X
Boomer frowned as he looked over his shoulder at the following ships. "Why are they coming? Their ships don't have the protection of our own..."
As if in parallel with his thoughts, Achilles voice came over an open channel. "Allied ships... what are you doing? You know what those ships are capable of."
It fell to Commander Harken to respond. "We do colonel. We also know what they would, and will, do if they're not stopped. We've all lost friends and colleagues to these... abominations. We want a piece of them ourselves."
There was a long pause on the line. Boomer turned the short conversation over in his head as he awaited Achilles response. 'They have a point, they do deserve to give back some of what they've been taking. But how can they engage targets that they can't see, and which can destroy them with ease?'
The answer came to Boomer just as Achilles began to speak again, with a noticeable sigh prefacing his words. "Very well. Hang back, and we'll provide you with target coordinates. You'll need to use saturation fire to bring one of these monsters down though."
Then there was no time for more discussion as the Nightbringers were dead ahead and already firing bolts of venomous plasma. Boomer's scanner chimed, and he looked down to see that the Nightbringers were launching their own fighters. Boomer felt the comforting shove in the back as he engaged his Viper's turbos. Around him the other pilots of Red Squadron followed suit, as did Blue Squadron and Apollo's Darkstars.
Time seemed to slow down as the fighter forces clashed. The fighters from the Nightbringers were faster and more agile than their regular counterparts, but against the Colonial Vipers the end result was the same. Scores of the 'enhanced' fighters were blown to oblivion in the opening few moments of the battle. The Alliance craft turned more sharply than the originals, allowing them to strike the fast moving Vipers more often. However their weapons were the same, and the Vipers' shields merely shrugged off the solid metal slugs as the craft raced off before arcing round and transformed the offending fighter into a bright flare in space. Most of the time. Sometimes the fighter jinked away, taking glancing hits... which were still lethal. Boomer felt a shudder run down his spine when his latest target did this, and one of his lasers played across one of the organic 'additions'. The biological tissues, somehow hardened against space, were flash boiled and burned off, leaving a thick trail of red-black liquid which instantly became a fine mist that trailed after the wildly spinning and breaking apart fighter.
One of the Nightbringers had angled away from the others, attempting to make a run around the oncoming Thunderchild, but it had been set upon by Apollo's gunships. The six Darkstars circled and looped around the dark ship, their laser fire slowly wearing away at its hull. Small plasma bolts stabbed out in an attempt to stop them, but the few hits slid off the shields and were left behind before they could do serious damage. Even as Boomer glanced at the fight one Darkstar strafed the cruisers keel, all its forward weapons blazing. Metal bubbled and melted while organic material burned as the lasers flashed into them.
Thunderchild herself stormed up on a vector that would take her between two of the hostile ships. The volume of fire she was putting out suggested that after that pass neither cruiser would be a threat anymore. Of course, they were not taking the pounding lying down, and a hail of plasma bolts and beams stabbed back at the battlecruiser, whose shields were glowing under the constant assault.
Boomer had no time to take in the rest of the fight, as another fanatical Alliance fighter came barrelling towards him. From the way it moved, Boomer got the feeling that the pilot intended to ram him. Shaking his head slightly, his thumb drifted right and pressed down on the third button on the stick.
The roar of the three ion engines directly behind him changed pitch as they switched to full reverse thrust, bringing his Viper to a sudden stop. The Alliance pilot was clearly surprised, as he failed to turn and engage but instead began to cross Boomers nose. His thumb lifted off and jumped to the left, mashing down the firing stud. Both bolts caught the fighter square in the back, instantly turning it into a ball of fire.
Swooping away, Boomer was just in time to see the first missile launched from their allies' ships detonated just off the bow of one of the remaining Nightbringers. Dozens of others detonated in rapid succession, wrapping the Nightbringer in fire and light. As the flames died the ship's ugly prow emerged, looking like the fire burned end of a wooden log. It was pitted and battered, small fires burning within. Including the bridge, Boomer noted, as the ship slowly began to tumble out of control.
Up ahead, Thunderchild began to slip between the two cruisers. The last two cruisers, hanging back for the moment, had added their fire in support of their brethren, and their combined fire had brought the shields that protected the Colonial ship down. The battlecruiser was surrounded by a nimbus of green plasma as she forged ahead. The two cruisers besides her visibly shuddered as like a 16th century sailing ship the entire broadside armaments of Thunderchild cut loose. Lasers of every grade stabbed out, savaging the cruisers in an orgy of destruction, while the side beam lasers sliced the corrupted hulls wide open. Return fire slacked off quickly as explosions blossomed within the dark hulls.
Another Alliance fighter exploded to his right. Boomer snorted. Cylons these guys were not. They were hopelessly outclassed, but their fanaticism drove them to die here for a lost cause rather than give in, surrender, and live.
A quick scan of his scanners revealed that all the Nightbringer fighters were gone. Seeing a familiar Viper pull up along side, Boomer opened a channel. "Starbuck."
"Yo Boomer. Looks like that was the last of them."
"I confirm that. So what now?"
"Apollo's fine, so let's get those last two. Soften them up a little for Achilles." With that Starbucks turbos ignited, powering him forwards. The rest of his squadron followed suit. Boomer nodded silently then engaged his own.
X-X-X-X-X-X
The blue green gem of Osiris lay ahead, barely an hour's travel away under normal circumstances. Yet at that moment Achilles was not looked at it. Instead he was focused totally on one of the displays that wrapped around his chair. The expression on his face clearly showed that what he was reading was not pleasant.
The battle against the Nightbringers had been as brutal as he had feared. The first two had been dispatched with relative ease, but the remainder had fought on regardless. Apollo had done a fine job on the one, but two had gotten past the Colonials and engaged the allied fleet.
The first had been pounded apart, thanks to a constant barrage of missiles fired ahead of it. Thanks to the scanner data sent from Thunderchild, the local ships had been able to predict where the monster would be. The second ship had managed to get in close, and it had torn a bloody swath through the fleet of defected Alliance ships. It had only been stopped when the Wolves Dancer, which had been hit hard in the first exchange, had recovered and darted underneath the Nightbringer. She had then used her heavy railguns, each one firing a solid slug the size of a man, to smash the monsters keel apart. The entire frame of the ship had been bent out of shape by the massive kinetic impacts. But that one, short rampage had done a lot of damage. Nearly half dozen ships had been destroyed, and three times as many more so damaged as to be unsalvageable.
As for his own ship... mostly it had been stripped of armour, the plasma drifting away and sliding off before it had a chance to melt through. The result was that it looked worse than it actually was. However, before Starbuck and Boomer had been able to knock them out, the last two cruisers had landed some solid hits with their prow mounted lasers. An ugly scar ran down the front of the prow, just missing the bridge. A deep gouge was cut into the leading face of the port wing. Most worrying, another beam had played across the engines, damaging several systems. While the energisers were in no danger of going critical, the control and power systems were 'twitchy' – the chief engineers exact words – and another hit in that area could shut down one of the energisers.
They had also lost nine crewmen during the battle, with a dozen more injured. Those were recovering in the Life Centre, but there was nothing for the dead. A warrior had also not made it back. His Viper had been caught in a cross fire between seven Alliance fighters, and between them they had worn his shields down to the point where some rounds had retained enough force to punch through the hull and into the internal systems. One of the fuel lines had been breached, and the Viper had blown apart, taking one of the Alliance craft with it due to the force of the blast. Three other warriors were in the Life Centre, wounded from shorted systems and battle damage. Lastly, Darkstar Five had been caught out, and had been brushed with a Nightbringers laser. While not destroyed, the gunship was crippled, and liable to be out of action for some time. One of the consoles in the cockpit had exploded, wounding the co-pilot. Fortunately he would recover.
With two thirds of the fleet damaged to a significant extent, the decision had been made that the bulk of the fleet, containing all the damaged ships, would head for the main shipyard in the system, orbiting above Osiris' second moon. There were still two dozen former Alliance ships supporting them, not that Achilles expected any more fights. With all the Nightbringers gone and the bulk of the fleet turned against the Alliance, they controlled space. And from what they had gathered from the various news services that had sprung up, the people were also rising up on nearly every world in the system. Even some of the Federal Forces had switched sides. Of course, for every one that defected, two more went on a spree of brutal reprisals against the people who called for the Alliance leadership to come out and pay for their crimes. Last he'd heard, the bulk of those squads had begun to shoot people... and gotten mobbed and lynched in return. On the outer planets, the local sheriffs and lawmen supported the people's calls for justice, as they had all suffered under the iron grip of the Alliance.
Ahead, tiny motes left Osiris, heading out into deep space. The personal ships of high ranking Alliance officials, fleeing the planet ahead of the oncoming fleet. And likely people on the surface, baying for blood, Achilles thought. He felt no sympathy for those officials. They had leached the people dry, pampering themselves. Now the people had had enough, and wanted their pound of flesh. And so the cowards that had prospered under the Alliance fled like the rats they were, grabbing whatever they could before running.
Achilles fixed his eyes on the cluster of tiny sparks. 'Run while you can, but know you can't hide forever. We will be coming after you, sooner or later.'
He was contemplating sending one of the Guardians off after those ships – it wouldn't even have to go full speed to catch even the fastest – when an officer spoke up.
"Colonel? We're receiving an audio transmission, directed to us."
Achilles frowned. "Put it on."
X-X-X-X-X-X
Mal was stood up in the cockpit, staring at the growing sphere that was the planet.
Osiris. He'd never thought he'd go anyway near it. It was the heartland of the Alliance. Within its sterile cities was where the Alliance was born. Doing any kind of job near the planet would have be suicide, so intensely was it watched and controlled.
And yet, here he was, as part of a fleet of independent traders, former Alliance vessels, and one seriously powerful Colonial warship. Not only that, it looked like the Alliance was finally beat...
"We're getting a call." Wash broke into his thoughts. "It's Achilles."
"Put him on."
Mal turned to regard the screen on which Achilles face appeared, a stern look in his eyes. Mal immediately went on guard.
"Mal, I have a situation here. We've received a communiqué from a member of the Alliance Cabinet." Behind him Mal heard Zoe shuck in her breath sharply. "She's willing to divulge the location of the Cabinet, if we extract her from Osiris and provide protection."
"Ratting out her colleagues to save herself." Wash commented disapprovingly.
"Could be a trap sir." Zoe chipped in, echoing Mal's own thoughts.
"Maybe so. But it's an opportunity we can't afford to pass up. The Cabinet still have, if our information is reliable, vast sums of money and a substantial force of personnel. We can only win this war when we find and capture or kill them."
Mal suddenly got a bad feeling. "You want us to go get this gal, right?"
Achilles nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so. You and your crew know these worlds better than anyone on my crew, and I don't fully trust the locals to ask any of them to extract her. I'll have Apollo and Sheba on standby in case things get out of hand. Take Starbuck and Boomer too, just in case."
Mal sighed, then nodded to Wash. Wash looked like he might have protested, but a look at Mal's face convinced him to stay quiet.
X-X-X-X-X-X
Down on the surface, the woman known to Serenity's crew as Saffron sighed as she reached the door to her flat here on Osiris. She'd finally managed to escape Duran Haymer's grasp, seducing one of the guards enough to give her an opening.
Getting out had been easy, getting away not so much. Everywhere there was more and more security. It was hard to find marks these days. And those she did find, either were barely worth the effort, or were total sleazebags that she really didn't want to be anywhere near.
In fact, her whole life had gone downhill ever since she'd marked Mal and his ship. Now she had to crawl back to her first hidey-hole on Osiris. Most of her other places had to be let go or abandoned.
After swiping her card, she slipped inside before leaning back on the now closed door, eyes slipping shut. It had been a long day, complete with having to fend off one scumbag.
Breathing deeply, she stepped forwards, hands moving to remove her jacket...
...And froze. There on the floor before her were a discarded pair of women's shoes. Shoes that she would never wear. They were too plain, too... practical, for her tastes.
Wary, she tread lightly as she moved deeper into the flat. A couple of soft bleeps from the second room led her there.
Poking her head around, her eyes sprung open. She swore.
Loudly.
The woman sat before the terminal turned her head to look back at her, a sad smile on her lips... lips whose shape was very similar to her own. As was the face they were on. Only the hair really told them apart, dark chocolate instead of strawberry blonde.
"Hello mei mei. Been a while hasn't it?"
X-X-X-X-X-X
Mal checked his gun nervously as he felt Serenity settle down. "I don't like this." He muttered.
Truly, it was a dicey game they were playing. They had set down on one of the outer spaceports, in one of the suburbs of Capital City. A last minute alteration had Miranda ride down with her zoid, while Vega came down with them. He had wanted to let the Fury out again, but a rampaging metal T Rex would have been too obvious. The Blade Raptor however was small enough to slip between buildings and escape notice, if needed.
The control tower, in fact the entire 'port was unmanned, setting Mal's nerves on edge. Things were too quiet here. Normally the authorities would never have let Serenity, let alone the Colonial gunship, land at this pad, despite its remoteness. And yet there had been not one single challenge during their entire descent.
He looked over to his right, where the civilian Landram sat, filling nearly the entire cargo hold. In essence a stripped down version of the standard Colonial Landram, its armour was thinner, had larger windows and no gun turret. And padded seats. It was still tough enough to withstand almost anything handheld that the Alliance could throw at them, and it was quiet. The Mule that hung overhead was faster, but it would only run with four. Five and it would be overloaded.
Mal sighed lightly when he saw that Kaylee was stood on the roof of the Landram, tinkering with the Mule overhead. Simon wanted to visit his folks, and both Kaylee and River were going along. Mal had reservations about letting them go, but River could take care of all of them.
Trouble was, he could have done with Rivers talents with him. He had plenty of fighters, but her psychic abilities were invaluable. This whole deal smelled like a trap to him.
"All done Kaylee?" He called up as he stepped over to the side of the slab sided vehicle.
"That's it." She chirped back happily, wiping her hands on a rag she'd pulled from a pocket. As she clambered back down Mal could see Boomer's head leaning out from the front. Mal nodded to him, and the dark skinned warrior nodded back silently. He ducked back in, and with a tiny shudder the Landram's engine came to life with a quiet whine.
"Okay... let's do this." Mal called as he put his foot on the running board. On the other side of the hold he could see Wash and Zoe exchanging a few words, before she stepped over towards the Landram. Ghost was already in the back, revealed only by his eyes.
Once they were all on board, Starbuck goosed the throttle, and the Landram rumbled quietly out of the hold, down the loading ramp and out into the city. From the open hatch Kaylee watched the dull grey vehicle seem to glide off towards the city, fading into the night.
"They'll be okay." She said aloud, partly trying to convince herself.