XO's Quarters
Gunstar Svarog
BSG 77
Nearly an hour later, the steady drumming and latent vibration from the Svarog's intermittently firing guns could still easily be heard and felt, even as Carson Xhanda finally retired to his quarters. He'd left Lieutenant Agun with the conn now that the ship was more or less operational, with the implicit instruction to call him back up to the CIC as soon as Captain Cai reported that the gunnery calibrations were complete. In the meantime, however, he intended to do a bit of thinking whilst catching up the stack of paperwork which had steadily accumulated as the Svarog underwent this latest crisis.
He had discovered the universal constant, Xhanda mused; bureaucracy.
He supposed that it wouldn't have been remiss of him to take the CO's quarters at this point, but something about doing that just felt off to him. It wasn't certain in any case that the Admiralty would even confirm him as the acting CO or just appoint someone else to the Svarog over him. Beyond that, he just had no idea what to do with Coverley's things. It seemed a petty concern, but the notion of just throwing out the man's possessions didn't sit quite right with Xhanda, who reckoned that perhaps his family should get whatever he'd had aboard the Svarog.
Did Coverley even have any family? Xhanda frowned, setting his pen down. Here he was, indecisive about such a minor issue, contemplating his minor feelings and the unremarkable ones of others far off and away. With pen in hand once more, he continued skimming through and signing the appropriations sheets laid out in front of him.
That the raptor hadn't returned was troubling. He'd considered sending out another, or perhaps even a pair, now that it'd been almost a full day since the attack. He didn't want to return home entirely unaware of the situation there, but he also couldn't afford to throw away his valuable raptors – of which he had relatively few – so casually. There was a potential middle ground, of course, and one he'd most likely have to explore.
It seemed almost as though the universe perpetually acted against him whenever he had a moment for quiet contemplation, with the phone affixed to the nearby abruptly buzzing to life. The pen was set down, and Xhanda forced to rise to his feet to pluck up the receiver.
"This is the XO, go ahead," he said.
"Sir, you're needed in CIC," came the reply, Torrec's voice.
"I can still feel the guns pounding, petty officer."
"It's not that, sir. We've received a message from the fleet."
That was a good answer. He wondered if he'd have an opportunity to actually get more than two or three hours of sleep anytime soon, what with all this activity of late.
Arriving in the CIC shortly, the Major stalked on up to the plot table, crisply acknowledging the salutes offered him with one of his own.
"Report?" he asked, glancing first at PO Torrec and then at the worried faces of Lieutenants Agun and Vadim.
Quietly, the enlisted man held out a message wafer to the Major.
"This was transmitted over the encrypted priority one channel," he explained, as Xhanda took the slip of paper.
"Am taking command of fleet. All fleet units assemble at Ragnar Anchorage for counterattack.
Adama"
"What the frak?" Xhanda audibly exclaimed, reading the message over once more. He shoved the paper angrily into a pocket, bemusement giving way to irritated anger. "PO Torrec, Lieutenant Agun, Lieutenant Vadim, get Captain Cai and Major Giannoupolis; all of you report to my quarters in ten."
–
"Does anyone else feel like we're missing something here?" Giannoupolis, at the right end of the line of officers posed before Xhanda's desk, inquired. The message had been read aloud and then passed up and down the line, all wearing similarly baffled expressions.
To Giannoupolis' left was Captain Persephone Cai, tall and blonde, looking not unlike a mythical Valkyrie with her high cheekbones and fair features. Beside her was the darker Lieutenant Agun, her dark hair pulled up into a tight bun, then Vadim, and finally Torrec.
"Our comms array has been down for a long time, sir," Vadim slowly pointed out, glancing sideways first at Giannoupolis and then ahead at the seated Xhanda. "Even now, give the distance between our position and the colonies, that message itself is approximately two hours old given the comms lag."
"So all we know is that two hours ago, Commander Adama – a commander of a ship slated to be retired – took command of the entire Colonial Fleet?" Cai decidedly put in, being the only one who was able to keep her gaze straight ahead and intent upon their present CO. "Sir, if the situation is truly as dire as that, it may be prudent to lay in a course for Ragnar Anchorage immediately."
Agun offered up some small bit of commentary as well at this point, clearing her throat and speaking up for their collective benefit: "sirs, there's no guarantee that Adama is still alive. At this time, we have literally no information on the state of affairs back home. Has the fleet been completely decimated, with Cylon ground forces assaulting the homeworlds? Is there a guerilla campaign by the fleet in opposition? Have the Cylons not even bothered with occupation in favor of nuclear annihilation? We just don't know, and we can't act until we do."
The others hesitantly began to raise their voices in protest, to be silenced immediately as Xhanda as he sat forward in his chair. He peered between then, eyes pensively narrowed. "At this time," the Major slowly began, beckoning the group forward as he placed an astronomical map of the colonies onto his tabletop, "I'm inclined to agree with Lieutenant Agun. We don't have sufficient information to act one way or the other, and the failure of our recon raptor to return isn't a good sign."
He jabbed a finger forward, where a red 'X' marked the current position of the Svarog. To the galactic right of it, some distance away, was Caprica's system – the closest one at present.
"We need information," he decisively stated, carefully watching his officers' expressions as he continued. "So we'll be doing a recon in force, such that we may determine where we proceed from here." The finger moved now, and repositioned itself over a small spattering of white dots at the outer edges of the Caprica system.
"The Tartarus belt, sir?" Vadim asked, curious, tilting his head slightly to get a good view of the map from his angle.
"We'll be executing a FTL jump into the outer gravity well of the Caprica system, such as to avoid immediate detection by any forces concentrated around any orbiting bodies. From there, we should be able to launch raptors from relative safety, and perform reconnaissance on Caprica and Tauron. We should also come within comms-range of any remaining Colonial Fleet elements, since I assume they'll be loitering around the core worlds in particular." Xhanda outlined his plan with several emphatic gestures and jabs across the map's surface, his eyes rarely leaving the faces of his subordinates. "Any questions?" he finished.
There were none, which meant that either the plan was brilliant or so horribly flawed no one could notice.
–
The Tartarus asteroid belt had been cleaned out of Tylium almost two decades ago, but aside from that it had seen relatively little exploitation. It wasn't exactly remote, but there were much closer asteroid belts and fields available within closer proximity to the primary processing and refining hubs scattered throughout the twelve colonies. It had thus been overlooked, and Xhanda accurately reasoned that it was fairly unlikely for the enemy to bother sending out patrols to what was seen by most as dead space.
Jumping proved to be something of a jarring experience, as always. It'd been close to a year since the last time Xhanda had to be party to a FTL jump, during the last set of tests ordered by the group commander, and he hadn't yet been able to grow accustomed to the feeling. His stomach seemed to leap up into his throat for a split second, and the world contorted – impossibly – both inward and outward, as his all too human senses tried to comprehend phenomena which defied the laws of physics they'd come to so intrinsically know and understand.
"DRADIS reads clear, no contacts," came the report, several seconds after they'd completed the jump. All the crew needed a moment to compose themselves after the jump, all similarly unfamiliar with the odd sensation. Agun kept an eye on the screen, drumming a grease pencil against the plot table meanwhile – where groups of ensigns and junior lieutenants were busy compiling a map of their immediate surroundings for operational purposes.
"Comms?" Xhanda asked, his gaze snapping towards Torrec.
Making a show of slowly flicking through several channels, Torrec simply shook his head. "I'm getting nothing, sir," he said, continuing to scroll through them even as he made his report, "even on the civilian channels, it's all quiet."
"Sir, we're getting some interesting radiation readings," Agun called out, having migrated over to the dedicated sensor and DRADIS console, where she peered over a young lieutenant's shoulder to examine the display. Xhanda promptly ambled on over, now likewise curious.
"Looks like ambient radiation levels around all planetary bodies in the system have increased significantly- with concentrations of-. ." she cut off there, staring blankly ahead at the screen as the young man seated before her decidedly continued for her. He turned partially around in his seat, glancing worriedly between Xhanda and Agun.
"These look like nuclear detonations, dozens of them," the lieutenant said, features ashen, "Caprica, Tauron-. . All the colonies. They've been nuked."
"I frakkin' hate it when you're right, Lieutenant Agun," Xhanda growled, his almost golden cheeks turning a fiery red; jaw suddenly set. Turning away, he moved right on back to the plot table, where the star system was already mostly set out upon it.
"Send out two birds to both Caprica and Tauron, let's see what the situation in orbit and on the ground is. Have them run silent, minimal power and no comms. Looks like there's a lot of debris in-system, so they should be able to use that for concealment—at least.
"Adjust our course to take us in on a parallel heading with that big frakkin' rock one-thirty off our bow. We'll hide our silhouette behind it, in case the Cylons decide to come looking this way."
Plotting a jump directly into an asteroid field wasn't exactly a smart idea, and Xhanda had been keen enough to recognize that it was better to maneuver into it after the fact. Anyone that'd come looking for them – if anyone even did – out here would have to consider that as well, and so would be forced to jump in some distance away. Better yet, Cylons would most likely be approaching from within the system rather than outside it, and so adopting a position just beside the asteroid would merge their
DRADIS silhouettes from such a perspective.
As always, his orders were quickly carried out.
–
A destructive enfilade ripped through the vessel's mid-section, a brilliant cornucopia of color glimmering across her center as a set of secondary explosions decidedly accompanied the first. Hundreds of shells, rounds, and missiles were lobbed across the vast and empty distances of open space, hitting their target with a furious vigor.
It tasted sweet, revenge. He knew that it would be a bad thing indeed to become too accustomed to it, but some small measure of vengeance was a great boon to the crew. It'd slowly become clear to them all as to just how much had been lost so quickly in this war, and their personal losses would eventually begin to sap morale if he didn't take measures to prevent it. The cheer which began to rise as the Basestar began to break apart warmed his heart, and he allowed himself to drop his customary "triad face" in favor of a full grin.
"Small victories," Xhanda murmured to himself, keeping his eyes on the DRADIS display.
They'd been lucky to be able to execute the attack so cleanly, truth be told. He had reservations about it at first, and so had Agun and Cai, but he'd decided to go with it as soon as it became clear what the repercussions of failing to do so were.
Though the Basestar was thankfully unaware of them, a handful of civilian ships were using the DRADIS shadow projected by Tauron's moon to escape out of orbit from the dying planet. However, the Basestar, maneuvering into a careful patrol route around the planet, was moving in an arc which would have it directly intercept the convoy because of the additional speed granted it by the gravitational slingshot effect of the nearby planetary body.
And so they'd jumped in. She wasn't quite a battlestar, but the Svarog was certainly similarly armed, with numerous flak cannons and several heavier emplacements. A gunstar was essentially a dedicated (and unsurprisingly, given its name) gunship, its systems dedicated to that, whereas a battlestar was significantly more versatile. The raiders would have decimated the Svarog's defenses had they been able to launch, but the entire purpose of the surprise attack was to deny them that opportunity, to deliver the knock-out blow before fighters and bombers could be scrambled.
"Helm, hard-right now!" Xhanda had shouted as they'd first completed the jump, having used the raptors to relay accurate coordinates for their attack. To anticipate the Basestar's movements, they'd given the Svarog a position some distance ahead of the enemy ship's path, which required some minute adjustment to the Svarog's own as it jumped in.
The ship lurched to the side, presenting her entire starboard side clean for the Cylon's viewing pleasure, dozens of guns pointed straight ahead at the Basestar.
"Gunnery reports that they have firing solutions," said Agun, juggling three phones in her two hands.
"Excellent," the Major responded, his features stoic and expressionless as they began the engagement, "load one to one AP and HE, we want to knock 'em out quick. Open fire on the mid-section, let's see how vulnerable it is."
That familiar drumming which accompanied the firing of the heavy guns soon began, announcing Captain Cai's quick assent to Xhanda's orders.
A predatory grin spread out across his face. The Gunstar plowed through space, its heavy flanks illuminated by the golden light of continuous fire, tearing deeply into the armour of the Basestar and leaving deep rends in the grey metal. The DRADIS came alive with numerous new detected signals as the basestar made an effort to launch a volley of missiles and raiders in retaliation, but it was too late by then – both consumed in the same explosion which rent the Basestar itself apart as its reactor went critical.
Small victories.
–