Chapter 23:
Raptor 269, Battlestar Theia Port Flight Pod
The Near-Kobol Evac Point
Day 118, 08:30 PFT
Spinner sat, one hand on the throttle, the other still up in a sling. The flight over from Hyperion had been… interesting. Flying with one hand was not as simple as he thought, and trying to use the joystick on the wrong side of his body made his movements far from clumsy. He has always intended to follow the order to not go out and engage in combat, but he realised he really had no other option with his arm as it was.
The timer on his watch ticked down, passed 08:30 hours, but yet he still couldn't feel the vibrations of a readying FTL drive. He sat and tuned his radio to connect to the inter-ship channel the Battlestars used with each other. "Sirius beginning cycle. Sync on mark in three, two, one, mark."
"Sirius, Zeus: Synced. Cycle at 25%."
"Theia reads the same."
"Sirius, Horatio: Cycle reporting slow, 20%."
"Copy Horatio. Hold cycle at 50%."
"Wilco Sirius, holding at 50."
"Sirius, Horatio: Cycle reports 50, resume."
"Sirius, Theia: Cycle continuing."
"Sirius to Group Picon: Group Libran reports ready."
"Sirius this is Hyperion Actual. You are go for jump. Gods-speed."
"Copy Hyperion, reporting ready to jump in three…"
Spinner braced himself into his chair. He might be used to jumps, but they had a habit of rattling your insides. Given the insides of his arm were barely in the right place, he didn't fancy how that was going to feel.
Raptor 269, Battlestar Theia Port Flight Pod
Orcus Orbit
Day 118, 08:33 PFT
With a rush, the ship around him jumped and the sky out of the flight pod changed. Spinner felt more rumbling from below him – the launching of Vipers. He waited a minute or two as the Combat Raptors around him lifted off and rushed out of both ends of the flight pod.
With his one hand, he raised the engines, flicked off the magnetic seal and then shot his hand back to level out his flight. He was, naturally, alone in the Raptor. The Admiral didn't want to spare a fighting soul if he could help it. His job was simple, fly clean out of the flight pod, sit at a distance, be ready to jump back to the Fleet. Once at a safe height above the deck, he eased on the thrusters and accelerated out of the flight pod, cutting the engines when he was clear. The Theia's short nose passed by quickly and Spinner got on the comms. "Theia, Spinner: I am clear of the flight pod."
"Copy Spinner. Good hunting."
It seemed odd to Spinner that they were giving him a farewell message given it was his job to wait around nearby until the Cylons showed up. He got to a distance far enough away that he wouldn't suddenly get swallowed up by manoeuvring Battlestars and flipped over, then cut his velocity. Looking back, he got a chance to take in the fleet of ships – six Colonial warships, two of the Battlestars – and the planet behind them. With the light reflecting off of the last remaining clean spots on Theia's small hull, the fleet seemed to glisten as it banked to the side, the orange gas giant with thin, but no less spectacular rings filling his view from behind. The rings were on a similar plane to them, and quite close, so they seemed to stretch out from far below them, curving gently until it disappeared, looping off behind its parent planet. It was within the rings that the Colonials had been mining, and it would be from above them that they would bait the Cylons.
Raptor 269
Orcus Orbit
Day 118, 08:41 PFT
Despite the sling, Spinner was starting to get some use out of his off hand. Specifically, for chowing down on a rationed protein bar he'd saved from their dinner while the other cycled through DRADIS screens. The endless chewing of the rubbery bar was drowning out his gradually increasing heartrate quite effectively.
He clambered from the screens at the back of the ship and sat himself back down in the pilot's seat. The view out of the front hadn't changed. The fleet had arranged itself now facing away from him, so all he had was a view of engines. It certainly wasn't a bad sight, but sitting around waiting like this was not something he was comfortable with. He had only been on a few pre-planned operations in his long career. Insurgents and pirates mostly, but beyond that, typically engagements were spontaneous, especially with the Cylons, but not exclusively with them. Hyperion and the Battlestar Group had cleared out a homebase of human Raiders in the Medra system, but only after they had to scramble to defend a research convoy that came under attack. Other diplomatic incidents they had served during, such as over Sagittaron had all been rapid scrambles, even if no shots were ever fired.
All this meant that Spinner felt decidedly more jittery than he ever normally did. Even moreso than before the battle around the mining asteroids that cost them the Battlestar Themis. At least that time, he'd been able to fight himself. The small clock at the side of his DRADIS screen continued to tick away, and Spinner found his knee bouncing. His free hand flicked up and down on the focus screens of the DRADIS, watching the range expand and decrease as he did so. It took a couple more minute until a light flashed, something red appeared and an alarm starting flashing. Mouth half-full, Spinner rushed to throw his helmet back on and tuned back into the fleet's radio.
The alarm sounded over his earpiece, which somewhat drowned out the radio until he was able to dismiss it. That, seemingly, was moot though, as the red blip – a Cylon Raider – disappeared after barely thirty seconds. This was, thankfully, expected. They had roughly a minute before it got back to the Cylon fleet over Kobol and relayed their position. The Admiral had told them to expect two Basestars, as the reading of two Battlestars over Orcus would likely trigger the Cylons into thinking that this was a staging ground. They wouldn't send their whole force right away, but half seemed likely.
Well, it did work, rather well in fact. After that long, tense minute, three DRADIS contacts appeared a short way ahead of the fleet. Three big ones. In the glint of the sun behind him, Spinner could make out the three Basestars hanging above, almost blending in with the stars behind them. He got up, ran to the back and began to spool up the Raptors FTL drives as the radio chatter began to heat up. Ahead, the Battlestars turned broadside to ready their flak defences for the missiles that soon sprouted from the Basestars. Everything was moving quickly and Spinner glanced one last time at the DRADIS and at the view ahead. Three Basestars, three quarters of their force, Spinner thought to himself. That is, unless they reinforced since the battle, which seemed likely to him.
Either way, he had only one job while the rest of the fleet engaged, flak drowning out his view of the Basestars as the Colonial ships fired on all cylinders: jump back home. So that was exactly what he did, wishing a mental farewell to the fleet as the radio was too clogged with action to tell the Theia or Sirius where he was going, Spinner listening to the FTL drive reach maximum power and pressed the button to jump away.
Raptor 269
The Near-Kobol Evac Point
Day 118, 08:48 PFT
The FTL drives cycled down as the civilian fleet, with the great hulks of Hyperion and Draconis sat in the centre. Spinner dropped his free hand off of the flight controls and got on the radio. "Hyperion, Spinner: Group Picon is engaged. Repeat, Group Libran is engaged. Three enemy Basestars present."
"Copy Spinner. Group Picon, begin jump sequence."
Following Hermes' familiar voice were the call-ins from Battlestars Draconis and Persephone, as they too charged up. Spinner looked around, looked at the clock, and back at his controls. His orders had been to return to the main fleet, it didn't specify what he was to do then.
With a grin that can only be described as snide, Spinner grabbed the throttle stick and powered his engines to max. He then turned and managed to line up with Hyperion's port flight pod and, easing off the power, managed to get himself inside. With the countdown for the ship's jump in his ears, his heart threatened to thud its way out of his chest in spectacular fashion. His hands flipped between the two sticks as he cancelled out his momentum. On the floor below him, more Combat Raptors, prepped and armed, watched with concerned looks up as this other Raptor flew past them at an incredibly unsafe angle, flying tilted all the way to the side, belly facing his direction of travel, trying to stop using only the RCS thrusters.
With his speed low enough, Spinner flipped back over and lowered his landing gear. He winced as the countdown dropped below "10" and flipped back around fully so that he was facing towards the exit he had come in through, just metres above the surface. One quick blast of the throttle got him stationary relative to Hyperion, he slammed down onto the deck and magnetised, with only seconds to spare. With the radio full of the Battlestars jumping, no one had called to him, the only other sound was the rumbling of Hyperion as the sound transferred through the Raptor's landing gear below him.
The jump completed and the stars out ahead of the flight pod changed. In fact, they mostly disappeared altogether, replaced with a blue, green and white ball of planet that filled his view. This view very quickly disappeared, as the Combat Raptors ahead of him all lifted off in unison and shot ahead out of the flight pod towards the planet, and, as he was beginning to make out, Cylon Basestars hanging in space over the planet.
Once they were clear, he decided to do the right thing and lifted his Raptor up off the deck, right as more rumbles worked their way up through the Raptor's hull and into his bones. A look out the front told him that those were the Hyperion's main, front guns firing off a salvo at the Basestars, as quickly the sky ahead filled with orange and blue as Vipers and Raptors launched, and the cannons and missiles from both Hyperion and her sister ship Draconis all flew off ahead.
Viper M-320
Kobol
Day 118, 08:50 PFT
A loud alarm broke through Adora's sleep. Was it really sleep, or was it sitting with your eyes shut thinking of home? He wasn't sure, but didn't really need it answered for their own sake. In a panic, he checked the panels, it was a radio alert. Adora quickly put on his helmet and attached it up to their radio. The first thing they heard was Tiptoe's voice. "LT, you see this?" He said from the Viper parked to the side. "Alert from Hyperion?"
"What? The same Hyperion that left us here?" Adora said with a snort.
"No, the one that was coming back to us," Borg said, his engines starting up to Adora's left.
On the other side, Tiptoe began to do the same. "They're engaging the Cylon fleet, we are to cover the refugees from the settlement as they return to their ships."
"Does that mean we get to blow up anything toaster in the city?" Borg asked, already lifting his landing gear off the ground.
Adora began to follow suit, lifting up into the air next to Borg amongst the trees. "I guess it does. On me guys."
"Tally that," Tiptoe replied. "Should only be a couple of minutes at full speed."
"No time to wait," Adora said, maxing out the boost on his Viper, shooting off down through the valley in front of them.
Battlestar Hyperion, CIC
Kobol Orbit
Day 118, 08:50 PFT
"All ships report jump complete." Lieutenant Bell's voice split the sound of Condition One klaxons as Admiral Jenkins took in the DRADIS screen over his head. He noticed immediately that Emily Jartell seemed incredibly at home across the table from him, her stance more relaxed and mature than he'd ever seen her. While she said to him after the escape from Kobol how she struggled with the pressure of command, this one step down seemed totally natural for her now. Even at the time, he had thought her demeanour impressive for one so young, although, when didn't he think that.
The screen above him filled with green contacts as Vipers launched. No need for him to call out for them to launch, his plan had been communicated to them all. DRADIS told him what he had worried might be the case. Three Basestars here, same as over Orcus, meaning six in total. Manageable for the full Fleet, but equally meant just that bit more pressure on each of them to not make mistakes, or there would be even more Cylons ready to take immediate advantage. Weakness and indecision were not something that they had space for.
The opening salvo was already in the air and the fighters were on their way. Raptors were forming up in missile pickets, Persephone's Viper squadrons would be their protection, and with Admiral Moore's request, Draconis' fighter wing led the vanguard. The Admiral stood steadfast watching it all play out on DRADIS. Low-quality feeds from the nose of the ship on screens to his sides tried to capture the travel of the rounds from Hyperion's main guns. He watched as they shrunk into the image of the planet before them, reappearing again only as they hit their marks.
The main guns hit their marks, explosions glowed across two of the three Basestars, and moments later, so did a couple of the missiles they had fired. Not all of them though, it seemed that the Raiders already deployed managed to shoot some down as they got close. Checking up to the DRADIS screen, one of the Basestar markers flickered out.
"Signals showing one Basestar down Admiral," Lieutenant Bell called.
"Vipers are corroborating sir," Hermes added, finger pressed against his ear as he listened through his earpiece at the myriad of radio calls filling his ears. "One down and one damaged."
"How badly?" The Admiral asked, turning to face Hermes.
"Unknown sir, they're too far out."
"One was badly damaged from the last engagement, maybe if we missed that one, they might all be injured," Emily suggested. She always was an optimist.
"No knowing our luck," the Admiral said, turning back to the DRADIS screen. "Mr Yo, please put the Vipers on speakers."
"Aye sir," Hermes replied, tapping away at his console until the sound of the pilots' radios filled CIC.
"All wings, Hera: open racks, stay behind me. Let the Draconis birds take the first wave, we'll clear up after em."
"And let them have all the fun?"
"Shut-up Twinkle-toe. We screen them for the fleet, they go for the Basestars."
"I don't know about you lot but at least we stand a chance against Raiders at close range."
"Glad you're so optimistic Squirt."
"First wave engaged. Pilots be ready… Let 'em have it!"
As first the Draconis Vipers, and then their own, hit the wall of Raiders closing in, the DRADIS screen became a mess as these squadrons all piled into the same view.
"Helm, ahead full. Get in range and prepare to turn to port broadside. Let's see if we can't get them something to hide behind," the Admiral ordered. Across from him, Emily rushed off from the central table and spoke to an officer in fire control.
"Sir, main guns are nearly cycled. One final volley before we turn?"
"Just before we turn, tip guns only. Save the undercarriage guns for broadside fire, and port guns for rear covering flak."
There was rushing as the CIC crew got to work. The rumble of engines rose in the background of the cacophony engulfing the room as they began to accelerate ahead. The mood in CIC was surprisingly calm, everyone had their job and was getting on with it. The Hyperion's front guns fired another salvo, but at this range didn't score any hits. The Basestars were spreading apart now, which made getting a clear hit much harder. Though there were only two of them, as usual they managed to launch volley after volley of missiles at the Battlestars. They were clearly in panic, as the volleys were larger than they ever normally were.
"Radiological alarms!" Shouted Lieutenant Bell. Not unexpected, they were clearly throwing everything at them. A smaller squadron of Raiders that had just been launched was clearly carrying heavy nuclear payloads.
"Break off Blue Green squadrons, intercept mission. I want Combat Raptors to help, before moving on to the Baseships." With no words and a simple nod, Hermes set to relaying.
"Blue and Green Squadrons, Hyperion. Intercept mission: Raiders at bearing 261 carom 128."
"Copy Hyperion. We'll cover your withdrawal Twinkle-toe."
"Thanks Hera. Blue squad with me."
"Someone get me Moore!" The Admiral shouted over the chatter, picking up a cord-phone.
"Aye sir," Emily said, reaching over Lieutenant Bell's shoulder while she was busy with something else.
The sound on the cord phone crackled into static, and then to a short tone. "Admiral Moore?" he said. A simple reply from their comms officer and a short tone told him that he was connected.
"John?" Admiral Moore's voice, finally.
"My wings are focusing on the nuclear Raiders. Prepare flak volleys because I don't have enough birds to stop them all."
"Aye sir," the junior Admiral replied. The phone cut and Jenkins plugged it back into the table. Already, the DRADIS was marking fewer radiological warnings from Raiders, but not nearly enough. New contacts flashed up: launched missiles.
"Admiral, nukes in the air," Lieutenant Bell's voice rose a few notes as she shouted.
"Helm hard port!" The Admiral called. "Broadside flak on now gods dammit."
"20 seconds to impact!"
"Hyperion, Twinkle-toe: we've got those missiles," the Admiral heard over the radio. Without waiting, he grabbed the cord phone and flicked a dial next to it, changing its frequency.
"Negative, this is Actual. Stop the Raiders before they shoot any more." The Admiral slammed the phone down again, out of haste more than displeasure.
"Ten seconds! Flak firing."
"You might want to hold on to something," the Admiral said calmly, almost sarcastically. He gripped the table and opposite him, Emily did the same. Seconds later, an explosion shook the ship, sending a flow of sparks down from the DRADIS console above their heads.
"Damage Control?" He shouted as he raised himself back up to his full height.
"We took a hit to the nose. Nuclear."
Emily rushed across to the other side of the room, peering at the screens next to the DC officer. "Looks like an armour hit. Just the one missile got through."
"Guess we couldn't quite turn in time. Draconis and Persephone?"
"Unknown Admiral," Lieutenant Bell called.
"Wait one," Hermes shouted.
"Hyperion, Waltz: splash those nuke toasters!"
"Draconis reports two hits sir," Hermes said. "Persephone none."
"Good, good." The Admiral said, watching as Blue and Green Squadrons broke back into the main melee. "See if our birds can draw the Raiders in closer range. See if we can't let the flak do some of the work."
"Aye sir," Hermes replied. "All wings, Hyperion: see what you can do to bring those toasters to us. Let the flak do some of the work."
"Tally Hyperion, wilco. Squadrons, Hera: form up and bug out, lets head around Hyperion and pull those Raiders into the engagement zone."
Viper M-320
Kobol
Day 118, 08:54 PFT
"Coming up on them now," Adora said, plugging in a message on the Viper's screen.
"I'm reading Raiders launching, no sign of the rest of the squadron," Borg said.
"Do you think they're all gone?" Tiptoe asked, bringing his Viper into closer formation with the other two.
"I sure as hell hope not," Adora said, pulling back on the joystick to get some more height. In the valley they were approaching, along the delta of a river, was the beginnings of a settlement that had been constructed. Mostly it was a few tents surrounding the few liners, shuttles and other civilian ships that could land on the surface. In the month they had been there, there hadn't been any time to construct anything permanent beyond tents and the scaffolding for a few important structures that now mostly lay in a tangled mess of metal. Adora got on the radio, the civilians had to be around here somewhere. "This is Viper M320, Adora, calling on all Colonial frequencies."
"Copy Adora, we hear you." Came a voice. It sounded like a woman, but Adora couldn't be sure.
"Who am I speaking to?"
"Lieutenant Cassie DeLoren, call-sign Torque."
"Alright then Torque, what's your situation?"
"I don't think we have time to chat Adora," said Tiptoe over the top of their conversation, pointing out the Raiders now in visual range. Just a pair of them, shouldn't be too hard.
"Rockets away!" Borg said, accelerating ahead and firing off two missiles from his Viper's undercarriage.
"We're separated into about twelve groups. Four hundred or so each," this Cassie explained as Adora ducked under a wave of Cylon fire and Tiptoe lit up the sky above.
"The Commander?" He asked, the three of them passing underneath the Raiders. One of the missiles Borg fired looped back around, having overshot on its first attempt, and clipped one of the Raiders' wings.
"Injured but on his feet. He's in with one of the other groups." Cassie replied.
Adora swung around again. The Raiders clearly wanted to dance, and they would give them that dance. Looping and pulling up, they got some height above the other fighters. Borg in pursuit cut his engines and flipped over into a stall and began to dive. Kicking in his engines, he watched one Raider pass and blasted off after, filling the air with bullets until it went down. Adora had the other right behind, the injured one. Some spinning and a direction change in the air kept its rounds away, the damage enough to slow its manoeuvrability.
"Level out towards where we came," Tiptoe said. Adora complied and headed back towards the mountains they last crossed. The Raider copied, and Tiptoe fired enough rounds to down the Raider, and almost Adora as well.
"That was close!" Adora shouted down the radio to Tiptoe with a laugh. "Good shooting."
"Always. Lieutenant… call-sign Torque, was that right?" Tiptoe asked.
"It is, copy," she replied. "We're standing by to move."
"Start heading to your ships. Relay to the others to do the same. We'll provide covering fire up from up here," Adora said, bringing his Viper back around, pointing back at the former settlement and lowering their speed.
"How far from the settlement are you?" Tiptoe asked.
"About 3 klicks," Torque replied.
"3 klicks?" Adora suddenly realised how long that walk was going to take, even taken at speed. They didn't know if the people on the ground had even got half an hour to make that trip.
"We're already starting to move sir," Torque explained.
"Step on it as much as you can. We'll cover you for as long as possible." Adora threw forward the throttle and blasted back across the valley again. There was no wave of Raiders on the horizon yet, but there would be soon.
Battlestar Hyperion, CIC
Kobol Orbit
Day 118, 08:58 PFT
The Admiral sighed. All around him calls were being made, officers were rushing between stations, and the garbled radio from the pilots outside filled his ears. All this noise, all this action, and no progress was being made. The Cylon's missile barrages were doing their jobs. Even with three Battlestars – two of them massive Mercury-classes, the best in the Fleet even before its destruction – they didn't have the firepower to break through the missiles and push forward. The Raiders were keeping the Vipers from shooting the majority of the missiles down, and they were too far out of range to get clear cannon shots off. They needed to move forward without losing their flak cover.
This was usually a textbook instance of where a Firestar, like the Icarus comes in. They fly in front of a Battlestar's nose, flak wide enough to cover the majority of the front profile, covering the ship's advance and allowing it to use its main cannons for shooting ahead. However, they had no Firestar. The Icarus was off with the other ships over Orcus, potentially being their main line of defence. In a close-range combat, they would've ripped through the Basestars in minutes, but from this range the Cylon's had the advantage. It was a stalemate, and nothing frustrated Admiral Jenkins more than a stalemate.
Every second that ticked by meant it was one second closer to the rest of the fleet returning. Yet, that also meant that it was one second closer to the rest of the Cylon fleet returning as well. Not only that, but they didn't know if any Raiders had jumped away. For all he knew, Raiders could've been sent out to every Cylon fleet in the sector and they could all show up at any time. Crucially though, the Admiral knew the purpose of their mission. That being to get the civilians off the surface. They were out of radio range out with the Cylons blocking them, and they would be able to receive written messages from pilots currently in the air. They had to clear the route of ships – particularly the shuttles without FTL drives – to reach them. That meant that had to be the ones closest to the planet, and they had to be soon.
"Damage control?" Jenkins shouted. Through the hubbub, an Ensign called an affirmative. From the other side of the table, Colonel Jartell followed his call and ran over to the DC desk. "What is the condition of our fore section?"
"It's taken one direct nuclear hit Admiral," the Ensign replied. "There is minor historical damage."
"We took some hits getting out of here before," Emily said, looking up and down the same screen as the Ensign over her shoulder. "Nothing major by the looks of things."
"Right," the Admiral said, eyes locked on the DRADIS screen assessing what he could. The screen to the side displayed a mixed set of images from various external cameras. Those were currently, however, useless. Flak has a habit of covering everything up.
All of Hyperion's squadrons were engaged now, the same went for the squadrons from Draconis and Persephone. The Combat Raptors were hanging around the edge of the engagement zone, providing picket runs through it in support of the Vipers. However even out of the main fray, they were still easier targets. The Admiral wanted to push forward with fighter cover, but the Raptors would be too exposed without the flak.
"Helm, prepare to bring us around. Mr Yo, bring our Raptors back home, get them below, rearmed and ready to launch again as top priority."
"Aye sir. All Raptors, Hyperion: bring yourselves home, mandatory rearming," Hermes began. The Admiral's eyes still hadn't left the screens above but he was listening.
"All flight pods, Hermes. Give them clearance around the board. Fire Control, lower flak and give them a path."
"All pods are clear for landing, you have priority clearance," Hermes said, his eyes flicking around the room to the hand gestures being made by the Lieutenant in Fire Control. "Flak is being lowered for you in 10… 9…"
"Sir, heading for the helm?" Emily asked him, having returned to the table once again.
"Right at the Basestars," the Admiral replied, finally looking down from the screens to give his XO a small, wry smile.
"Yes sir. Helm, come about bearing 900 carom 112!"
"And Hermes," the Admiral added. "Relay to Draconis and Persephone. Take up an arrow formation, we're running the gauntlet."
With the orders, CIC was ablaze again. The people running to and fro may have seemed like chaos for the casual observer, but Admiral Jenkins knew his crew. He saw each of them going straight from station to station, relaying what they had to, and entering everything important. They were running slightly understaffed through injury or officers having been on leave on Kobol, but this was not phasing any of these officers. Not from the outside at least.
The screens above him filled with movement as the Raptor squadrons disengaged, right as Hyperion began to turn.
Viper H-612
Kobol Orbit
Day 118, 09:01 PFT
Hera pulled her Viper into a tight flip and burned her engines hard. Below her, the smallest of the three Battlestars – the slender Persephone – was turning in an arc to follow the Hyperion as the huge ship began to turn forward again. "Rooster, keep the pace up, there's two Raiders making for you," she said, following one of the last Raptors as it dived for Hyperion now that the flak fields had gone down.
"Copy Hera, I'm trying," came the reply. Hera tried to match the angle of the incoming Raiders and fired a wave of rounds at them. A couple grazed one of the Raider's wings, but not enough to divert their course. The first flew close to Rooster's Raptor, firing a burst just over the top before passing straight by. The second separated into a shallower arc, and fired its own burst, just clipping the central section of the Raptor. It bucked as the Raider swooped past, and white gas started shooting out the side of Raptor.
"Rooster, Hera: you're hit, are you okay?"
"We're fine Hera. We've got a hull breach, but the engines are firing, we can get home."
"Copy that, stay safe." Hera said, breaking off as the Raptor entered Hyperion's starboard topside pod. Beside her, the Hyperion itself began picking up speed, accelerating right towards the distant Basestars hanging above the planet. The shimmering field of Raiders all around them began to move, blue thrusters appearing as the Raiders began to chase after the first of the Battlestars.
Hera hung back with some of the other Vipers, waiting so they could tuck in behind Hyperion and take out encroaching Raiders as they began to turn to make attack runs now that the flak barrier was done enough for them to get through. However, the flak barrier being down also meant something else. While she made her way to get behind Hyperion's massive engines, Hera caught a glimpse of every cannon that could fire forward on the nose and flight pods open up. The main rounds cut a bright line across the stars between them and the Basestars, just as a similar wall of fire was returning to them. The Basestars saw their opportunity to offload their missile arsenal, and they were taking it. As the number of missiles grew, she began to feel bad for Twinkle-toe, Waltz and the rest of Blue Squadron who were up front dealing with the missiles. But then again, she could at least be glad that it wasn't her for now.
Battlestar Hyperion Starboard Hangar
Kobol Orbit
Day 118, 09:04 PFT
Spinner clambered down from his Raptor as chaos surrounded him. There were Vipers and Raptors scattered across the hangar in front of him as deckhands ran around frantically to bring in the Raptors from above and below. Some were working the mag-lifts bringing more ships in, as others tried to rush the ships around on wheels. There were more Raptors than there had been space. When Spinner had landed before the jump, they had been sitting waiting action from the flight pods, and their numbers had been hidden. Now he could clearly see that there were more Raptors than the Hyperion would ever carry alone, and he presumed that these were Raptors from the ships over Orcus who had no need for them. More deckhands rushed a Viper past him and he had to stop in his tracks to avoid being run over.
In the centre of it all, the Chief. Spinner ran over to him. The Chief was stood on a box crate, trying to get a view of everything and trying to compensate for his shorter stature. He scratched at his almost white hair as he tried to decide.
"No, hold the Raptors at the back until we've loaded the Vipers!" He was shouted as Spinner approached. "Surface damage means they go right back out. We don't have the space."
"What's going on Chief?" Spinner asked, finally catching Chief Walker's eye.
"We've got a bit of an issue here Major," He explained, barely catching his breath. His voice was already sounding hoarse.
"We've got more ships than we have space. If you want to be useful, go tell your Viper pilots to help get their birds in the tubes and back out. And tell the Raptor pilots to stay the frak in their ships."
"Thank you Chief, will do." Spinner said, starting into a jog and running off. He headed first for the Vipers scattered along the fore end of the hangar. Most of them were being worked on while the pilots stood to the side, pensively watching the repairs. Spinner shouted at them across the noise of the hangar, but his voice was immediately drowned out by an explosion that shook the deck and made Spinner wabble on his feet.
"All you pilots, if it get fly, get pushing it into the tubes. There's not enough crew here to do it for you," he called out again. The first couple of Viper pilots seemed to get the message and began to help the crew around them pack up and start wheeling to the tubes. Spinner turned around and made for the Raptors that had just entered. He shouted; telling them to stay in their ships as he went round inspecting them for damage. Most seemed almost completely undamaged, paintwork being the thing worst off. He had disconnected his radio before they all returned so he had no idea why they had been sent down, but it was probably because they weren't going to help for the moment.
Towards the back of this collection of Raptors that had been dragged at speed off of the elevator ramps and dumped with the rest, Spinner finally found one that was smoking. He jogged over and watched as the door slowly wound open and a pilot stumbled out. Stumbled may not actually have even been the correct word, as she seemed to crumple and landed in a heap on the wing.
Spinner ran over and took off her helmet. She had been sweating, but there was still colour in her face. Her eyes blinked as she looked up through her dyed blonde hair at him. "M-Major," she said, sitting upright as fast as she could, her hand slipping a little on the Raptor's wing surface.
"Rooster, are you alright," he asked, trying to see any injuries on her body or holes in her suit.
"It's Piko…" she trailed off as her eyes dipped to her knees. Spinner, confused, looked up into the Raptor. First of all, he saw light from the hangar coming through a hole just above the computer consoles. That bit was just thin armour, so no electricals seemed to be damaged. However, as he rose, he saw blood splattered all around the floor of the Raptor. A flight suit flung sideways over the chair and Spinner quickly realised that it was not a suit, but the remains of her ECO. "Is he going to be alright?" Rooster asked from behind him as he looked at the corpse.
He climbed down from the Raptor and took her to the side, sitting her down. "I'm just going to get a medic for him, stay right here alright?"
She nodded shakily and he turned and rushed through. Finding one of the mechanics he knew to be first aid trained, he pulled the kid aside.
"I need a hand. I've got a body of an ECO I need out of a Raptor," he explained. The mechanic looked between him, and the cart of ammunition he had been carrying. He quickly pushed the cart aside and took off the top layer of missile casings, before rushing to the side of the hangar and grabbing a plastic sheet to covering the cart.
"Alright, let's go Major," the kid said, stressed. He couldn't have been more than 18 or 19 to Spinner's eye, making him almost a decade Spinner's junior. He didn't let himself dwell on what all of this would do to such a young mind, but equally he doubted that this mechanic would let it sit on his mind until later anyway.
Together they hurried back to the Raptor, Rooster still sat against the wall beside it, staring off into space. Spinner saw the mechanic freeze just briefly when his eyes first caught glimpse of the body, but quickly he was back to work. They picked up the body and managed to get it on top of the trolley before Rooster looked around at all.
"Sorry for asking you," Spinner said after they'd loaded the body up. "I told her I'd get a medic and I needed someone plausible."
"That's fine Major, it's not the first body I've seen," the mechanic said. As he turned to start pushing the trolley, Spinner noticed the roundel on the arm of his overalls. Battlestar Themis. He thought that the kid must have been on it when it started falling apart. From what he'd heard, it hadn't been pretty in there. "I'll take it from here Major."
"Right, thank you Specialist," Spinner said, giving the mechanic a small smile. The kid didn't smile back but gave him a nod and rushed the cart away.
As he watched him leave, he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Is my ship ready?" Rooster said.
Spinner turned to face her. A look of determination and utter unrecognition of what she had just seen on her face. "I… sorry?"
"My bird. Is it rearmed yet sir?" Rooster looked over her ship.
"Not yet, besides, you've got damage…"
"It was a clean hole, went straight through. If I apply patches I can cover the breaches and as long as we stay depressurized, we should be fine." She spoke completely confidently, so confidently in fact that she seemed to be convincing Spinner.
"Right. You have no ECO though Lieutenant," he tried to explain.
"He's on his way to sickbay yeah," she said. "But you're not flying anywhere anytime soon, are you Major? Would you be my ECO?"
Spinner stopped his mouth in its tracks before he could say anything. "Well, are you sure you can fly."
"Yes sir. I need to get back out there," she explained. Her particular emphasis on the word 'need' told Spinner all he needed to know. He knew what it was to need to be in the air. He couldn't stand being left behind. If anything happened to his pilots, all he wanted to do was be out there.
He thought for a moment. It was this, something definitely against regulation but potentially beneficial to the fleet and would definitely get him out of having to sit and watch from CIC. "You'll need to help load up, but I'll be right aboard as soon as I collect my helmet!" He walked away, a smirk on his face and a sinking feeling that he was going to get a speaking to about this.