Chapter 2. The Growing Storm
Armistice Station
Days, hours, minutes, meant nothing to the two Cylon Raiders lurking in the debris field of the remnants of Armistice Station. They would wait as long as necessary for their quarry to arrive, and when they did, they would eliminate them. Boredom, frustration, exhaustion did not exist for these perfect killers; they served only to complete their mission. In fact, 12 hours, 35 minutes, and 8 seconds had passed since the destruction of the station when two bright flashes announced the arrival of the Colonial Raptors. Quietly bringing dormant systems online, the raiders tracked their prey, waiting for the new comers to get impossibly ensnared in the web laid in front of them.
Max stared at the maelstrom of debris expanding in all directions with an equal mix of incomprehension and horror. "Bucket to Fly Girl! Hold while we confirm our position." he choked gruffly. He remained fixated with the cloud in front of him, mentally cataloging the types of debris heading towards his craft.
"Fly Girl to Bucket, our coordinates check out. How do you want to proceed, Rook?"
Max focused on her voice, immersing himself in it, his pulse slowed, his shallow panicked breaths calmed and deepened, he closed his eyes, and then opened them slowly. Looking down at the DRADIS screen, he toggled his mic, his countenance and voice now centered. "Bucket to Fly Girl; we have a few minutes before the FTL's will be ready to jump back to Odin. Why don't we use that time to get DRADIS scans and cameras on the debris field?"
"Roger that Bucket, and glad you're back." She paused for a moment, scanning data that was scrolling up her console screen. "Computer says we have time for 3, maybe 4 passes around the debris field, I'll take latitudinal, you get the longitudinal orbits. Copy."
He smiled at that, even thru the static, her voice reached out like an anchor, grounding him. Max was already setting his flight plan when he toggled his com-line in response. "Sounds good Fly Girl, I am setting longitudinal orbital pattern now." Pushing the engage button, he turned his head down and to starboard, so that he could watch his wingman's plane peel away from his.
The Cylon Raiders watched as the Raptors froze like startled deer upon entering the system. Regaining their composure, the Raptors moved towards the debris field together, and a then quickly separated, flying perpendicularly from each other. No transmissions were needed between the Raiders, as they stealthily crept away from each other, each towards the other Raptor.
Bucket hadn't completed a quarter of an orbit when his scanners went black. "What the Frack?" He tapped his DRADIS screen with a gloved finger. When nothing happened, he turned to his E.S.O. Lt. Kai "Jellybean" Jackson behind him, that's when his engines died. "Bucket to Fly Girl; I just lost DRADIS and Propulsion. We're gonna try…" he paused for a second, looking at the com panel on the dash, "Shit, Com's out too?!" When he looked back, he saw his E.S.O. heading towards him, his helmet off. He removed his helmet and turned to his partner, "What in the Frack is going on here, Kai?" he snarled.
"Calm down, Max. This hulking piece of shit wouldn't have been assigned to a 30 year old cruiser if the computers weren't supposed to lock up at gods-damned inconvenient times," Kai said as he crashed into the seat next to him. He looked over at Max with a kidding sneer, "I don't think this is going to impress Margo much though."
Max tried to relax, reminding himself that Kai was one of the most experienced flight officers on board the ship, and that during his career, he had likely encountered every possible computer malfunction that could occur in a Raptor. He focused his attention on the propulsion system while his shipmate worked on the communications.
A frustrated grunt caught Max's attention, looking over, he saw that the com system was running, but was illuminated in yellow instead of green. "I don't know what in the hell is wrong with this piece of Felgercarb," spit out Kai.
"At least we can receive now," Max replied, checking to make sure that the cabin speakers worked.
"Fly Girl to Bucket, respond please," there was a brief pause and then Margo repeated her call, this time more anxiously.
Max toggled the microphone hopefully, in spite of the yellow display, "Bucket here, I am receiving you, please acknowledge my transmission."
"Fly Girl to Bucket," she was clearly agitated now, "If you can hear me, I have lost all engine power and my DRADIS scans are inconsistent." She paused for a moment, "I think there is something out here, nothing on DRADIS, it's completely out now, but I think…"
Max was scared; Kai was running to his station at the rear of the plane, his helmet on. That seemed like a good idea, as he picked it up, the cabin speakers chirped again.
"Yes!" Margot was panicking "I see movement directly in front of me". He could hear her breathing through the com. Her voice returned, now shrill "It's black, no pilot, there is a red light. Frack! No! Please No! Oh Gods! It's…" static.
Max slammed his helmet on; a massive fireball erupted below him. He was screaming, like a small boat in a squall, he was completely adrift, lost. There was a flash of red directly in front of his plane. "Black, no cockpit, Frack." A sense of calm overcame him; he closed his eyes, and whispered softly, "I love you, Margo."
The raiders remained a few minutes, confirming there were no survivors. Then, seemingly as one, they flew away from the debris, one tucked behind the other, before disappearing in two bright flashes of light.
Combat Information Center. Heavy Cruiser Odin
Derek would have sworn that he could feel the heavy gaze of Commander Grayson upon his back as the entire C.I.C. waited for the overdue Raptor teams to return to the Odin. Instead, the Commander was conversing with the Colonel at the Command Table. Steeling himself, he walked over to the senior officer at the table. "Commander, the Raptor survey to Armistice Station is one hour and thirty seven minutes overdue and counting. Armistice Station is too far from our current location for effective wireless communication."
"What are your recommendations, Captain?" the commander turned and looked up at him.
"Sir, I could personally lead a second raptor team to the station to determine mission status," he paused, and then continued "however, I think it would be better to take the Odin herself to the station".
"I agree, Captain. Have Chief Jung prep the remaining Raptors and get 10 Vipers into their tubes. I want to be able to launch a CAP the moment we arrive." He turned to Col. Petrakis, "X.O., prep the ship for an immediate FTL jump."
"Sir, permission to lead Raptor 1 personally"
The commander looked up briefly; a storm cloud seemed to hover just over his head, "No, Captain. I want your eyes here on the DRADIS. Additionally, if this is nothing more than a couple of your pilots losing track of time, then it would be better for them, if you were the first person that they see after returning home."
Derek had had just enough time to plan the op and brief the pilots before Col. Petrakis called out the FTL jump. Quickly reviewing his boards, he verified that he had ten Vipers already in the launch tubes and two Raptors ready to launch the moment they transited to the station.
"Attention, All Hands, set Condition 2 throughout the ship, prepare for FTL Jump." After a moment's pause, she called out again, "Engineering, bring the FTL engines online, Navigation, plot a jump to Armistice Station, Communications notify Ajax and Picon command of our intent."
The navigator's voice called out, "Attention, all Hands. Prepare for FTL Transition, 5, 4, 3, 2, Mark". The lights seemed to flicker and the ship herself seemed to exhale after instantly transiting four light hours distant. Confirming the jump, Lt. Will's voice called out, "Attention, All Hands. FTL Jump 312 Complete. Resume normal operations, repeat, resume normal operations".
Derek released the breath he didn't realize that he had been holding. He found himself tapping his fingers as he waited for his DRADIS screens to become active.
"DRADIS Multiple Contacts!" called out across the C.I.C. from the Tactical officer.
"Sit Rep!" demanded Commander Grayson.
"Sir, DRADIS scans show nothing but debris, no colonial transponders, no Armistice Station. I am not reading any ships or power sources sir. Debris pattern is consistent with multiple explosions."
Col. Petrakis stepped next to Tactical Station, "Major, find our birds, conduct full sensor scans." Then looking at Derek, "Captain, what is the status of our planes?"
"Raptors 1 and 2 have just entered flight deck and will be launching momentarily, Vipers 2-11 are launching as we speak. Derek watched as six of the Vipers quickly moved to establish a perimeter around the Odin and the remains of the Armistice Station. The remaining four Vipers waited for the Raptors to close with them.
"Hambone to Odin Control, we have reached debris field, beginning S.A.R. operations," LT. Karl Stafford reported. He stared through the expanding cloud, hoping against hope that they would find the Raptors intact inside. With the course set, Hambone pressed a button on his console; with his other hand he guided the Raptor just inside the debris field.
The two Raptors and escorting Vipers carefully wound their way through the flotsam, carefully scanning for any signs of the missing craft. "Hambone, watch out!" yelped his E.S.O. Lt. John Macky.
"Stop backseat flying, Wizard!" he quickly bit back, spinning his craft counter clockwise between two large tumbling pieces of the destroyed station. He stopped the spin and brought the nimble craft to a halt.
Studying the displays in front of him, a quiet beep alerted Major Barclay to an anomaly picked up on a sweep. With a satisfied grunt, he toggled his com switch, "Odin Tactical to SAR teams, I think I found one of the Raptors, sending coordinates to you now."
A yellow dot began to flash with location data in the HUD in front of the canopy. "Hambone to Blondie, you're closer, go check it out." He continued his sensor focus on the indicated coordinates, hoping to get more details from the Raptor's scanners. Taking his eyes off of the DRADIS, Hambone re-engaged the main engines on his Raptor, continuing the search for the remaining missing craft.
On his DRADIS screen, Derek watched Blondie's Raptor approach and then come to a stop next to the target Raptor.
"Blondie to CAG," called out thru the speakers in the C.I.C. Slow and methodically, she began her report "Confirm wreckage is Raptor 2643, canopy is compromised, also looks like an explosion in the engine compartment" she paused for just a moment, "I can see Fly-Girl, she's still strapped in, no sign of X-Ray."
Derek breathed out slowly, "Copy that Blondie, begin retrieval and return to base." He looked at the screen to his left, confirming medical teams waiting in the hangar deck.
A heavy heart weighed down Karl as his Raptor carefully plodded thru the debris field. "Bingo!" called out his E.S.O. "Two contacts, one looks like the remains of a G.P. shuttle, the other, its mass matches that of a Raptor. They should be coming up on your screen," he paused for about a second, "now."
Sure enough, two new yellow dots began blinking in Hambone's Head's Up Display. Toggling the mic, he confirmed the DRADIS readings with Odin, and then carefully proceeded to the wreckage, the escorting Vipers, shadowing their every move. It took about an hour to recover the bodies and the black boxes from the two Raptors; the majority of the shuttle had disintegrated in the blast, and the Armistice Officer's body was not found.
1 hour later, C.I.C.
Report in hand, Derek headed directly to Commander Grayson at the Command Table. "Commander Grayson, my report sir."
"Thank you, Captain," he replied taking the folder from Derek. "Summarize," he said, setting the report in a pocket on the side of the table.
Taking a deep breath, internally bracing himself, "Cylons sir, though the data is incomplete. The flight recorders show a progression of system failures before finally shutting down. Additionally, Fly-Girl's last transmission to Bucket describes a small craft with a red light. The station was destroyed by missile strike, the shuttle was caught in the explosion. The raptors were destroyed by gunfire shortly after arriving in system."
"It's been 40 years since we have had contact with them, Captain. Does striking now make sense?" the Commander asked quietly.
"No sir, to me it does not, but that is my opinion."
Commander Grayson pulled the report out of the pocket, and flipped it open as he continued "It is the opinion of Major Barclay, that a criminal element, the Ha'la'tha, perhaps, may be responsible. He hypothesizes that the base may have been destroyed to prevent the discovery of contra-band. Did you consider this Captain?"
Derek paused before speaking, "Yes, sir, with all respect, it makes no sense for a criminal organization to use the base as a staging area. It is too far from the colonies to be practical, and they know that it's checked regularly by the C.D.F." He looked down at Major Barclay to judge his reaction.
Lt. Sampson's voice abruptly cut across the C.I.C. "Commander, priority message from Fleet Command. It's being broadcast in the clear, sir."
Turning on his heel, the Commander made his way to the communications station. Once there his expression grayed as he read the print out that was handed to him. "Confirm this Lieutenant." he said tersely as he folded the print out, sliding it into his waist band. Time stretched during the 30 seconds it took the young Lieutenant to verify the authentication codes that arrived with the message.
Sitting at her station with a stunned expression on her face, Lt. Sampson quietly reported to the Commander, "Message confirmed sir, security codes have been verified."
The commander squatted down, grunting as if struck, before standing back up to his full height. "Thank you, Candice, please inform Fleet HQ that we are standing by and awaiting instructions." He turned towards Derek, "It seems you were right Captain. I have just received word that the Cylons have launched an attack against the Colonies."
Derek and Major Barclay were now heading to join the Commander at the communications station. Following the Major, Derek softly crashed into Roger, who had stopped in front of him. "Sir?" he asked, straightening his tunic.
Squaring his shoulders, he turned to the communication station, "Lt., please page Col. Petrakis to the C.I.C." He paused and turned, facing Major Barclay, "Roger, please bring the ship to Condition One."
The lights in C.I.C. switched from white to red as Derek returned to his station on the upper gallery. His mind scrambled, Major Barclay's voice carried thru the C.I.C. and the ship itself. "All Hands, Action Stations, Action Stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship. All departments report to Tactical upon reaching Condition One. This is not a drill."
Staring blankly at the status screens in front of him, he shook his head to break the fog that clouded his thoughts. Looking to the command table he saw Col. Petrakis, now ashen faced, standing next to the commander, grimly reading the message that had come thru just minutes earlier. Commander Grayson picked up the phone, bringing it to his lips. "This is the Commander. Moments ago we received word that the Cylons have initiated a major offensive against the Colonies. We do not know the size or the disposition of the attacking forces, though we do know that our fleet was taken by surprise, and have taken heavy losses. We are awaiting instructions from Fleet HQ, and when we have orders, we will join the fight. All departments begin combat preparations. Let's make this a day that the Cylons regret. This is the Commander. That is all."
Derek spent the next few minutes at his station checking the status of the pilots and ships of the Odin's Air wing. Satisfied, he closed down his monitor and headed to the command table, where Commander Grayson was conferring with Col. Petrakis and Major Barclay. He waited just a moment or two, catching the attention of Col. Petrakis. "Sir, with your permission, I will be in the hangar." The commander gave him a quick nod, and he was off, breaking into a jog as he passed thru the C.I.C.'s hatch.