Responses to Earlier Comments:
War Sage and Chronos - Thank you for the comments! I try to stay under 3,000 words and that last one left it in a cliff-hanger. This latest installment is a bit of a cliffhanger as well.
***All comments are welcome. I'll respond where appropriate***
Disclaimer: Please note: I own no part or share in the Battlestar Galactica realm, either commercial or otherwise. This story is submitted for entertainment purposes only. Oh, and any similarities to people present or past are purely coincidental.
Reminder: I did not spend time making up non-earth names for BSG things - charging primers, radios, etc. They are in there as is. I wanted to avoid introducing new terms, explaining them, and potentially causing confusion if/when they are used later without their explanations.
Chapter 30
33 Again
"A small electrical short in a switch - for a courtesy light as it turns out - caused a small delay in setting up the FTL reset, which almost cost us everything. A curiosity by 'The Radio Guy' saved the whole fleet from total annihilation. How many remained was yet to be known."
~Cru's Journal if he had time to keep one.
Bree's Twin
Bridge
"Galactica! Galactica! This is Bree's Twin," shouted Cru. "We have strong evidence of an impending attack! We need new jump numbers right now! The whole fleet!"
"How long do we have?" asked Evvie as she squeezed in next to John, on a fly. Evvie had done four years of jump coordinates work for the Caprica government. She was young at the time and had a head for numbers. The work was easy for her - it still was. She began punching away at the keyboard keys in front of her. There were twelve ships she calculated numbers for after every jump. These were ships that formed a small cadre of trusting captains that they would escape with if they ever needed to run from the fleet.
"Thirty-three minus about twenty-two minutes," said Trevell in response. "That's my bet."
"What he said," said Cru gesturing at Trevell.
When the fleet escaped Caprica, the Cylons hounded them for more than two hundred jumps at a constant interval of thirty-three minutes. There was no reason to believe it wasn't a hard and fast rule.
Cru punched at his own keyboard keys in preparation for a heavily rushed back-to-back FTL jump. John had started the FTL reset while Cru was troubleshooting an electrical short behind one of the wall panels. It was fortunate that John had done what he did, but they were behind.
"Bree's Twin, this is Galactica Actual." It was Admiral Adama. The Gods were watching."SitRep?"
"Admiral, someone on the Rhadamanthys has been giving away our jump coordinates for the last nine jumps. That ship is moving clear of the fleet. We have every reason to believe the Cylons are inbound - likely less than ten minutes."
"Set Condition One across the fleet," called out Adama across Galactica's CIC. Cru could hear the Admiral over the radio. Adama didn't mess around. If Cru was wrong, he'd deal with that later.
Aboard the Bree's Twin, alarms were ringing and seventy passengers were moving out of the large cargo hold areas and into the smaller rooms of the ship's lower interior. Behind them, blast doors were lowering into place and fire suppression systems were priming for use. Once people were in their designated areas and accounted for, the ship's large pneumatic pumps would pull a portion of the atmosphere out of the holds and into holding tanks designed for pressure. This had two-fold purposes; it lessened the force of decompressions and it saved breathable air for survivors, should the ship be targeted and hit.
Cru knew his ship and he could coax a quick turnaround from a jump. He might shave six or seven minutes off a typical reset, but others might not. The newer ships could do even better on an FTL reset. The older ships? They were either being guided by a practiced hand like Cru's, or they were in a state of panic.
The mighty ship, Pegasus, commanded by Adama the Younger, was coming about hard on the port side as it did an end-run of the fleet's forward-most ships. A heavy broadside awaited whatever was coming.
Aboard the Galactica, the patrol fighters were launched, the alert flight was out of the tubes, and the first of the warship's squadron vipers were being readied. Galactica was rounding aft to take a position, angle-opposite of the Pegasus.
Thirty-three minutes arrived. Nothing. All was silent and all was still.
Thirty-three minutes and twelve seconds arrived - so too did the Cylons.
"Multiple DRADIS contact!" called John. "Three base stars launching missiles and raiders!"
Cru glanced out the window to his left. Beyond the Pegasus were the Cylon basestars with their full complements of winged fighters pouring out from their ports like hundreds of angry wasps from three large nests. Out ahead of them were the many nuclear and conventional missiles locking on their targets. Cru did a quick gage of the distance and the time they had left.
"This is gonna be close," said Cru.
"Once again," added Evvie.
"Per usual…" said John.
Cru gave a chuckle. Evvie and John were not wrong.
"I need two minutes," said Evvie. "I've got the base numbers for our jump and I'm pulling extrapolates for the others."
"I need about three and a half more minutes," said Cru as he stretched the limits of his ship's FTL engines. "I'm revving the compensators to charge the primers - it's quicker but I don't like it."
"I don't either," added John as he skimmed through the pre-jump checks.
Cru knew his ship better than anyone. John was a close second. Century-old ships had century-old parts, none of which should be ill-treated. Both men knew this.
"John," said Evvie, "when you have a moment, please tell our friends not to move - no matter what."
Evvie referred to the seven ships they all had built strong relationships with. T-Dog was first and foremost among them.
"On it," said John. He reached past Evvie for the radio handset.
Devina Tibbets arrived on the bridge. She was the old tanker captain T-Dog had found for Cru and was Second Pilot to John.
"Tibbets, give me the status?" called Cru.
"Bulkhead doors are down and shuttered - no faults. Decompress is still in progress. Fire suppression is ready. Life support backups are ready."
Alarms rang out on ships across the fleet. Cylon missiles had locked onto targets and were zeroing in.
"It's a footrace," said Cru. "It's us or them."
"Anyone jumping yet?" called Evvie. "I'm almost done with our numbers."
Tanner looked at the DRADIS screen between Evvie's arm and Cru. The colonial count had not changed. "No one jumping yet - we're all still here."
"Send them, Evvie," said Cru, "when you've got them. Better ours than none."
"Will do - Thirty seconds," said Evvie.
"Please let Galactica know where we're going," added Cru, "Pegasus too."
"Right, also sending to Galactica and Pegasus - got it," said Evvie.
"Wait! Ships are jumping!" shouted Devina as she watched the fleet out ahead of them. She knew many of the ships by sight. "The Demetrius, the Hollis, and someone else - I think it was the Persophone."
"Confirmed," called Tanner as he watched the DRADIS.
"Anything from Galactica?" said Cru. "Numbers for us?"
"Nothing from Galactica," said John.
"Okay, sending," called Evvie. "Loading ours."
"Nothing from Galactica" meant Adama's people were scrambling to get new jump coordinates out to the fleet, just like Evvie was doing for their small group. Scores of missiles were in flight and upwards of nine hundred Cylon raiders behind them meant it was time to go. It was time to run, and may the Gods help anyone left. Evvie reached over and started manually adding the jump coordinates to the keypad next to Cru's keyboard.
"C'mon, Admiral," Cru said to himself. "Give us a miracle."
Cru looked at the DRADIS and out the windows. Galactica and Pegasus vipers were in full engagement with the overwhelming Cylon raiders. Pegasus was engaging all three basestars while the Galactica maneuvered out and away from the other ships to get a good field of fire. Cylon missiles were inbound and they seemed to be targeting ships deemed most critical. There were many targeting the battlestars, as would be expected, and many targeting ships like Colonial One for the President and Bree's Twin for its large stores of fuel.
Missile inbound. Two. No, three." John turned to Cru. "Cru, we got thirty seconds of life left."
"And, we need more than that, to get us away," said Cru as his fingers closed in on the final prep work. "Damn…"
With no warning, two vipers screamed past, overhead, at full speed, gunning for the inbound missiles. Trevell was startled and jumped at the sudden appearance. The others were too busy to do more than take a glance.
A brilliant flash of light confirmed the end of one missile followed immediately by a second. The third missile was lost in the blasts and slipped between the two vipers.
"Bree's Twin, brace for impact!" the voice was from a pilot named BackDraft. "I missed it!" he shouted. "I'm so sorry…"
"All hands, brace for impact!" shouted John over the ship's intercom. "I say again, all hands brace for impact!"
"Coming hard to starboard!" called Cru.
"No, don't move us!" shouted Evvie. "The jump numbers are static - I can't do variables!"
Cru held. He watched the incoming missile as it drew near. "Yeah, bad idea…," said Cru with a sigh. Any action was futile at that point. The missile was tracking and would correct its flight much faster than the big freighter could ever turn. They could not jump yet and there was no getting Bree's Twin out of the way. There was no avoiding being hit.
Cru felt a hand close over his. It was Evvie's. He turned to face her as her eyes turned up to his.
Boom!
The missile sailed past the bridge and slammed into the upper corner of the Number One cargo hold. A gut-wrenching, thunderous, wave traversed the ship, felling everyone to the deck. Lights flickered, new alarms rang out, and just like the movies, a panel on the wall opened up in a hail of sparks and smoke. The ship shuddered as the undulating force echoed back and forth across the big ship's heavy framing, like rings in a pool of water. Pieces of the outside cladding, heavy shielding, and parts of the skeletal inner structures were torn loose at the site of impact and were blown outward with trailing fingers of the fiery expanse.
Cru was first to his feet. They weren't dead, which meant he still had work to do.
John was second. He started flipping through monitoring screens looking for failures.
"Shit," said Devina. She was third standing. Her eyes were drawn to the panoramic view of the fleet and the battle around them. "Baah Pakal and Adrasteia took hits - their burning. We're all taking damage. - Adriatic, Carina…McConnell is hit. Gods help them."
"Frak the fleet!" shouted Trevell. "What about us!"
"We're not dead, Trevell," said Cru. "That will have to do, for now."
Cru continued to run through the reset. The FTL engines have massive primer systems that build a charge, and when fired, create the spatial distortion used for long-distance travel. Cru was using all the tricks to tease the levels up to operational.
"John, give me a damage report," called Cru.
"Working on it - definitely no breach," said John, "but we've got a big hole in us."
Cru flew through the controls. "FLT is still online but we're not ready. We need more time."
Devina continued. "Coba is alight - I think they're adrift."
"Coba's one of ours," said Evvie. There was a pain in her voice. "That's Captain Pruit. He's a good man. Nebbie Packrin and Giles Sallimar are there, also. We know them from the clothing trade."
"I remember them, Evvie," said Cru, but his voice had a tone.
"I know, I know," said Evvie. "I need to focus."
Devina stepped closer to Cru. "Captain, we can't stay here," she said in barely a whisper. "Make the jump - this ship'll take it. She's strong."
Devina had twenty years on Cru and a few on John. She was running the long-hauls when Cru's tender age was in the low single digits.
"Tactor read is eighty-two," said Cru under his voice. "That's a red line on the TD Sleeves - they'll shatter into dust."
"Not your first red line - won't be your last," replied Devina in the same quiet voice.
"Three Cylon raiders bearing 2-3-8, on intercept," called John. "Missiles launched - ship-killers."
"Frak," said Cru. "Easy for you to say, Devina Tibbets, it's not your ship." He looked sidelong at Devina and then gave a wink. His lips curled slightly into a smile. Yes, they had to jump now. The push of a button or the impacts of Cylon missiles - the outcome was a coin toss. Smiling at the inevitability, was all that was left.
"Yeah, Brother," said Devina with a nod and the same smile. "Let's do this."
Cru took a heavy breath and let it hiss through his teeth. "Evvie, new numbers from Galactica?"
"None…" said Evvie in a broken voice. Tears tracked down her cheeks.
"Right," said Cru. "Tell them all to jump - your numbers - anyone who can."
"Telling Everyone to jump," repeated Evvie. "Sending."
Cru's finger hovered over the FTL button. He watched a single digital readout. It read "Eighty-four" and then flipped to "eighty-five."
Cru pushed the button as Cylon missiles closed on them.
~~~~~/~~~~~
Not too far away
"Recover from jump," said Cru. "Evvie, new numbers, please"
"New numbers," repeated Evvie. "On it."
"John, start your checks, just the big ones for now," said Cru. "I'm on the reset."
"Doing post-jump checks - big ones," said John. "On it."
"Tanner, you and Trevell run up to the Number One hold and get eyeballs on it. Check pressure and life support, and all of that. Keep everyone out for now."
The Number One hold was where all the spare parts and componentry were kept. No one should be in there, but they might be curious.
"Right, Captain," said Tanner. He and Trevell turned and headed down the stairs.
"Gents," called Cru over his shoulder.
Tanner and Trevell paused and turned back.
"Captain?" said Tanner.
"Good job, Trevell. Tanner, that was a good call running him up here."
"Thank you, Captain," said Tanner.
"Thank you, sir," said Trevell with a nod.
"Tibbets," said Cru without looking up, "who's here with us?"
"I'm counting six, Captain," said Devina.
"Is the Coba here," asked Evvie quietly.
"No ma'am," said Devina.
"Okay," said Evvie. She continued to plug away at the new numbers. "Okay…"
"Okay people, that was incredible work. Let's assume we have thirty-three minutes before the next jump. Let's do it like last time, only a hell of a lot faster."
"Yep," said John. "Tru-dat."
Evvie and Devina nodded their agreement.
"John, the receiving deck has full pressure, yes?"
John nodded, "It does."
"Okay, here's a thought. Can you take the shuttle out and get me some pictures of where the missile hit? All of that forward-facing area is supposed to take collision impacts. I suspect we got hit in one of the few places that was survivable.
"Okay, I'm on it," said John as he left his seat.
"Devina, you're pilot while I prep us for another jump. Please continue John's post-jump checks."
"Aye aye, Captain," said Devina. Evvie had been squeezed in next to John. Devina squeezed in next to Evvie.
"Evvie, when you are done with your numbers, your children are at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for you."
Evvie's children were not as silent as she was historically known for. Cru knew that Emily never left after getting her mom, and he heard the younger Fletcher arrive a short while after.
"Okay…" said Evvie. The ship and Evvie were recovering slowly. "Alright…"
It had not sunk in yet, that the fleet had taken many casualties. Ships were jumping away, but it was not difficult to assume many did not. It was not difficult to assume both warships stayed in the fight while the fleet escaped. Both warships may have been lost because the odds were so overwhelmingly against them.
Evvie knew many people on the Coba, which had been burning and looked adrift, as Devina had called out. And for all anyone knew, it was lost with more than five hundred aboard. It was for this reason that Evvie was well ahead of the others as grief took hold.
This ends Chapter 30
Author notes while writing:
Wow, it takes a lot of words to write out an action sequence that lasts just minutes. Both this installment and the last are still working thru the basics of a single chapter.
I've revealed that there is a "cadre" of ships that have aligned with one another. If I were writing a novel, I think readers would know this by now. But, I only have so many words to move the narrative along and reveals like this are inevitable.