Battlestar Galactica, and Battlestar Galactica: Deadlock, along with any places, characters, and such do not belong to me, but to Universal Studios and Black Lab Games, respectively.
Chapter Five
"If we had thought being the Admiral's special action group would be glamorous, our first month's worth of assignments quickly made us think otherwise. In her continued attempt to clear the IDRIS network, we eliminated corrupted satellite networks all over the four star systems. Long after we gave up any hope of being able to access the system, Cain finally came to the same conclusion. Looking back, I almost wish we had kept trying. Those missions were cake compared to what came next. Part of me had always wanted to be on the front lines and get out of the CIC. After what happened at Canceron, I never wished that again."
"Slingshot, break left now!" Without thinking Alessia Stone yanked her controls to the left, only just getting clear of a burst of blue tracers. The flash of an explosion on her bubble canopy told her that the Viper pilot who was covering her had succeeded in eliminating the Raider. "Thanks, Echo" she called into her wireless. "You ok back there, Bojay?"
From the aft compartment came the voice of her new ECO. "Never better. Remind me again not to ride with rooks." He sounded grumpy, but then again, he usually did. She was still getting used to how he operated. Her last ECO, Choker, had been a talker. Even during combat ops his mouth was running a mile a minute. Bojay was a full lieutenant, who had just rotated in from Fleet Group Beta. The news that his new assignment wasn't going to be as relaxing as he'd hoped hadn't settled too well with him. It was strange not hearing a voice behind her unless he had something to report, but she thought he might be starting to open up, just a little. The fact that he had chosen to ride with her, the greenest pilot in the Blue Devils squadron, took most of the sting out of his retort. Still, comments like that couldn't pass unnoticed. With another jerk she slammed her Raptor to starboard, sending his helmeted head bouncing against the main tactical screen on his console.
"Sorry" she shouted back cheekily and got no reply. "Coming up on the target. Go ahead and arm our torps."
This was their eighth identical mission in the last four weeks. Once SIGINT located a satellite network one of their computer spooks thought might be infecting the IDRIS system, BSG-30 would jump in and tangle with whatever Cylon ships were nearby while the Blue Devils took out the satellites. It wasn't hard, but after the first three it began to get tedious. It didn't help that the after-action reports all stated the same thing. "Cylons still have full control of the IDRIS network."
"Ordinance is armed and ready to fire" reported Bojay.
"Dumbbell, this is Slingshot. We're ready over here." Slingshot said into her wireless.
"Wilco. Fire when ready." Came the reply.
Centering her Raptor on a collision course with her distant target, Slingshot depressed the fire button on her console, sending her four destructive friends on their way. Technically she didn't need to be aimed at the satellite herself for her four missiles to find their way, but as it turned out the guidance systems sometimes had difficulties pulling excessive turns and lost their targets. Unconsciously muttering a short prayer for her munitions, Slingshot watched to get visual confirmation when they hit. She wasn't sure when she had started praying for her missiles, and a part of her wondered if the gods thought that blasphemous. Well, if they did, they haven't chosen to answer her prayers in the wrong way, yet. The four contrails covered the distance between them very quickly, ending in a small ball of fire and shrapnel.
"All Raptors, mission complete. Lets get back to the barn." Ordered Dumbbell. Alessia pulled her plane around to follow the rest of the squadron back towards the group of ships in the distance.
"Any word on if it worked this time?" asked one of the other pilots on the squadron frequency.
"Doubt it" replied Echo, "Hopefully soon the brass will figure out we're wasting our frakking time out- "
"Alright, lets can it!" cut Dumbbell across the chatter. "We do our jobs, and we go home. That's how it works."
As the mixed group of planes approached the Acropolis, the recall command went out and Vipers began scrambling for the flight decks. In a mad rush over eighty craft careened into the flight pods from aft, only killing power to their engines moments before they plowed into the heavily reinforced deck. Slingshot angled for what was still a relatively unoccupied section of deck space, slamming her Raptor down and signaling the LSO. Combat landings were something taught in flight training, but due to their very nature and the extreme wear they caused on equipment, they were seldom practiced before doing them for real.
"If they were, I might not have lost Choker" she internally berated herself. It hadn't actually been her fault, and when she looked past her guilt, she was able to accept that. They had been popped by a pair of Raiders during the battle at Cocalus, and on approach her primary controls had failed. Anyone would have been lucky to walk away from a Raptor that slammed into the interior side of a flight pod at combat speeds. One of the support struts over the ECO's computer had split on impact and the jagged end of one of them had ended up piercing Choker's skull through his helmet. He'd never seen it coming.
Shaking herself from her memories, Slingshot saw the last Viper Mk II come to a halt fifty feet ahead of her. A flash from the outside of the flight pod told her that they had jumped, leaving that particular battle far behind. They were safe, for now. Silently she said another prayer to the gods.
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"All ships have jumped and report clear, sir." Reported the tired voice of Lieutenant Agathon next to him.
"Acknowledged. Let me guess, it didn't do anything did it?" Commander York asked, a faint note in his voice. It was a sign of his irritation that those words had bypassed his usual filter.
"None, sir. IDRIS is still compromised." Agathon replied after sending in a request for jump data.
Erik York moved off without responding. He would have to report this to Cain, who's patience was already growing thin. As of yet, she hadn't directed any of those feelings toward him. It wasn't his fault, he told himself. BSG-30 was doing exactly what it was being ordered to do. Jump into a system, destroy several million cubits worth of Colonial infrastructure, and then jump out again before anyone else saw them. In the last intelligence briefing he had read, the rampant destruction was being blamed on monotheist sympathizers, but he doubted that lie would hold up much longer. Sometime soon they would be caught if they kept this up, and there would be hell to pay.
Colonel Melville caught his eye from the damage control panel, and he adjusted course to meet her.
"Anything to report, Colonel?"
"No damage, sir. That last group didn't have the firepower to do much to us. We are however running low on flak ammunition. Those missile barrages really eat through the reserves." Melville replied, handing him a clipboard covered in charts and figures.
"When's our next unrep?" York asked, flipping through the pages. Battlestars carried a large amount of ammo, having been designed for long periods of operation between underway replenishing, and he felt that they'd reached the thirty percent that was fleet standard for resupply rather too quickly.
"We're scheduled to meet the Celestra in four days. We'll have to let them know to bring more than the standard supply."
"Agreed. In the meantime, get with Lieutenant Fray. I want him drilling his guns crews around the clock. There's no reason we should be using this much ammo." Jeffrey Fray was the Acropolis' gunnery officer from Virgon. He was a solid line officer, but he carried a rather large chip on his shoulder that the Commander needed him to get over, and fast. Everywhere you looked in the newsreels and recruiting propaganda you saw swarms of Vipers flying in parade formations or gun footage of pilots blowing Raiders out of the skies. Feeling as though his contribution, and by extension the contribution of every gunner in the fleet, to the overall war effort slandered by this, York felt that Fray might be trying to go overboard to make up for it.
"Aye, sir." Colonel Melville replied before moving off.
York stood there for a moment watching his crew. His predecessor had done a good job of training them, and they were shaping up well under combat conditions. He turned to leave, planning to get a few hours of rack time. Reaching the outer of the two rooms designated at CO's quarters, he saw the large stack of paperwork waiting for him on his desk. He had just sat down when the phone on the wall behind his desk chair buzz.
"CIC to commander officer" came the voice of Lieutenant Agathon, the old speaker making it pop and scratch.
"Sir," she said when he picked up, "Admiral Cain is on the line. She wants us back at Scorpia ASAP."
"No rest for the wicked" York muttered. "Very well, lieutenant. Order the fleet group to respool their jump drives and plot us a course."
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"Sinon, please brief the Commander on what you've found out" asked Admiral Cain. She, Sinon Quade, Commander York, Colonel Melville, and Major Alex Kona, the marine officer in command of Acropolis' MARDET, were in the Daidalos' war room. Major Kona had been specifically requested by Cain, which meant one thing. Whatever this job was, someone was going to get up close and personal with the Cylons.
"As you know two months ago Colonial Fleet was requested to retrieve a science vessel from over Aquaria. The ship was owned by a company out of Tauron, but mostly crewed by Cancerans. Even more strange, most of these crewers had been recruited from the Canceran prison system, working off debts, either theirs or family members. Their opinions of Canceron's prison system were scathing at best. One man insisted his uncle had been abducted by Cylons, herded out with a dozen other inmates. The guards reportedly stood by and watched."
"Have we been contacted by Canceran to investigate?" York asked. Under the Articles of Colonization, Colonial Fleet had no authority to act within each planet's territory without a direct request from their government. The one and only exception to that rule was if Cylons were present.
"No." answered Cain shortly. "SIGINT has tracked several IFF's to at least one station, but no report of hostile engagements has been reported by local authorities. In my opinion, that is reason enough to warrant a closer look. You are ordered to investigate that station and put a stop to whatever is going on. Due to the sensitivity of this assignment, I will be transferring my flag to Acropolis for the duration of this mission. Mr. Quade will be coming along as well."
"Aye, sir. When are we shipping out?" York asked, silently wondering why the Admiral was bringing a civilian along with her.
"Three days. I want an operational plan on my desk by 0630 tomorrow morning."
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"This your first boarding action?" asked Bojay from his console. He was doing a routine diagnostic of the warhead jamming system while his pilot looked out on the busy hangar deck from her jump seat. Usually he liked the quiet, but he could feel the nerves radiating off of her and that was distracting him.
"First since the Raptor Ops course at flight school, you?" Slingshot replied, watching a group of knuckle draggers reassembling the upper engine on a Viper.
"Nah, during the rebellion I did a hot drop with a squad of Caprican Legionnaires into Delphi. AA fire was thick. Once we hit the ground, we got orders to sit tight because taking off again would be suicide. Half of us ended up following the troops in. Beat sitting around waiting for a mortar round to land on our heads."
"What happened?" Bojay turned to see that he had gotten her full attention by this point. He was impressed to see that she wasn't scared, not that he let her see that, of course.
"Lets just say that there's a reason I didn't sign up for the marines and leave it at that."
"Think anything like that's gonna happen here?" she asked him, returning her gaze to the work gang. She was sure that her nerves had been all to obvious, and tried to act like she thought veteran pilots should act.
"Listen rook, I figure that anytime we have jarheads aboard, things have a better than even chance of going to hell. Best thing you can do is keep your head, and bring extra clips for your sidearm."
"Great" she muttered to herself, mentally adding that to her load out list.
A few hundred meters away, Major Kona was sitting in his squad's small arms locker with the rest of his fire team. They knew the job, knew what to do, but for him the waiting was the worst part. He had already triple checked his own gear, something he demanded of any marine under his command. Of the hundred and fifty marines aboard, half of them would be mounting up for this operation. As he expected, every hand had gone up when he asked for volunteers. Life as a shipboard marine was as close to a dream assignment as could be found. Most of his MARDET's days were spent patrolling the corridors or handling ordinance for the gunners, and then every once in a while they got the chance to go 'toaster hunting.'
"All hands, prepare for combat jump in thirty. Fire teams Alpha, Bravo, and Ophion to the hangar deck." Came the voice of the OOD through the bulkhead speaker.
"Lets go get'em, boys." Kona said, picking up his rifle.
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
Erik York had never been to Canceron before, even though his home planet of Aquaria was located in the same solar system. As the colony with the largest population, it also had the most prisons. To save room groundside, and to cut down on escapes, over a dozen large prison facilities had been built in orbit surrounded by minefields. In an attempt to get the slip on the Cylons, Acropolis and her escorts had jumped in well beyond DRADIS range and were approaching at sub light.
In CIC, he and Admiral Cain were standing on the command level, watching the empty displays. As the top deck was short on space, Colonel Melville had taken a position next to the navigation console, Sinon had chosen to observe from the behind them. Vipers and Raptors were already deployed, trailing behind the fleet to reduce the chance of the large group being picked up. Then entire group was under EMCON, and it didn't look like they'd be noticed yet, by either the Cylons or Cancerans.
Specialist Rigel was sitting silently, intently listening to the comms traffic from orbit on her headphones. Most of it was garbled, transmissions not meant to go much beyond orbit and so low powered. Dialing over to the Canceran Military frequencies, her eyes perked up as a frantic voice flooded her ears.
"Admiral, Commander, I'm receiving distress calls from Prison Station Nine. They report Cylon boarders in force."
"It's true then" Cain said to York. "Is anyone responding to the call?"
"No, sir. It…the channel is empty except for that call. There's some encrypted chatter on another frequency, but I haven't broken their codes yet."
"Commander, get us there. Now." Cain ordered, turning to him.
"Aye, sir" answered York. "Helm, all ahead flank. Lieutenant Agathon, resound action stations." They had been at condition one for almost two hours as they silently approached orbit, but it never hurt to make sure that someone wasn't goofing off in the head.
"Sirs, we're just reaching the edge of DRADIS range. I'm reading almost a dozen ships near station nine. Only one of them is coming back Colonial." Reported Agathon.
"Lets give them something else to focus on. Let the station know we're on our way. Broadcast it on an open frequency. Make sure the whole system hears it." Cain ordered, clasping her hands behind her back.
With a surge of speed, BSG-30 closed the distance to her targets quickly. The Cylons redeployed to meet them, abandoning their centurions aboard the prison station. Once they took care of this nuisance, they would return for them. Lieutenant Fray took personal command of the forward batteries on Acropolis, and ordered his guns to open up. Missiles ranged from both groups of ships, exploding violently in clouds of flak or against hulls. Acropolis led the way into the fight, driving a wedge into the Cylon formation.
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"All right, lets go get them!" called Hades to her pilots. Raiders were disgorging from their frigates and filling her forward view screen. "Group One, you've got missile defense. Group Two, escort the Raptors. Group three, on me. We're going to blow them a hole. All Vipers, weapons free."
Numerous clicks filled her helmet as group leaders acknowledged her orders. Group Three was made up of two squadrons from Acropolis, along with those from Arbiter and Lydia. Selecting her first target from the cloud of approaching toasters, she dived into the thick of it with a loud "Whoo!"
Following close behind her was Group Two. Forty Vipers formed a phalanx in front and around the nine Raptors. The plan was to follow Group One through the hole, get the Raptors clear to make their approach, then most of the Vipers would break off and hit the Raiders from behind while a smaller group covered the boarding party.
The presence of eight quiet marines behind her made Slingshot feel uneasy. It wasn't that she was scared of them, it was more that their being there quintupled the number of lives she was responsible for. As a result, she did her best to fly straight and level with the rest of her squadron. Unbidden, a memory of her first job as a delivery driver came back to her, she could even smell the pizza. It was very similar, she told herself, you drive carefully incase the food goes flying.
"Frak" called Bojay around the marines, "the minefield is still active!"
"Can you disable any of it from here?" she called back, not taking her eyes off the sky in front of her.
"Trying."
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"Sir, I've got Canceran Defense and Interior is on the line." Rigel called from the crew pit.
"That didn't take very long" grunted Commander York and he was knocked into the railing by a jolt in the deck. As always Cain remained stock still despite the tremor.
"Put them through." She ordered tersely.
From the overhead speakers came the voice of a woman that York recognized from the newsfeeds. It was the sort of voice that if you listened to it long enough you would start to like, whether you agreed with what it said or not. Today however, it lacked that melodious quality. "Colonial Fleet," it began, almost dripping with sarcasm, "you are far from home. I expect this is a friendly visit? Unless there is another good reason to break Canceran orbit with a fleet of warships."
"Minister Wenutu," answered Cain, and York could hear the barely restrained contempt. Sashenka Wenutu, while not a member of the Quorum of Twelve, led a faction of politicians that were, to use one of his father's favorite phrases, a pain in the ass. She was responsible for Canceron's military, and the ships she had sent as tithe to Colonial Fleet had been so old that most of them had been scrapped to provide spare parts for others. Fleet Intelligence was also still trying to determine what, if any, part she had in Fleet Group Delta's destruction a month ago. "We are cooperating with local security forces to investigate a Cylon presence in your system that has of yet not been reported by your department. Unless Canceron has objections to the Fourth or Seventh Articles, we will proceed with our operation."
If Wenutu was phased by Cain's direct response, she didn't sound it. "Ah, Admiral Cain. I insist, we do not need the help of Colonial Fleet with an internal security matter. Canceran Law Enforcement is en route to the station as we speak."
"Good. We can use the help. This is clearly a wartime engagement with hostile forces. There is no argument you can make that will make me turn around and leave colonial citizens to be killed."
"I expect you to act in accordance with the articles, Admiral. As of yet, no branch of my government has formally requested your help."
"Then have Prime Minister Hudson send a protest to the Quorum. Until that happens, I have a battle to fight. Cain, out."
From behind her, York let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Good job, sir."
"Politicians." Was all she said in reply. York knew exactly what she was saying. He wasn't sure, but for a moment he thought he heard a sniff behind him.
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"Hard seal" reported Bojay, checking the gauge located on the bulkhead. Behind him one of the marines pulled up the hatch located in the Raptor's underbelly. This was no small feat, as the deck itself was already crowded with boots. It had been decided on the flight in to cut through the hull two decks above the main hangar bay, so as to surprise what Cylons may be aboard, and to give the Vipers clear fire lanes to blow anything hostile that tried to leave. Private Ford pulled the small cutting torch from his kit, dropped his visor, and got to work cutting through the cold steel. Two minutes later they were repelling down into a narrow corridor. It looked like main power might have been shut down to this block, and amber emergency lights did a poor job of illuminating the passage.
"Acropolis, Fire team Alpha has breached." Kona called after landing. All three Raptors that had carried his team had landed in a row, and his twenty-four marines were already clearing the area.
"Acknowledged Alpha. Teams Bravo and Ophion are also deployed."
"Roger. Will report when objective is secured. Kona out.
Their objective was to secure the hangar bay while Ophion attempted to meet up with the stations security team and Bravo secured the main control room. Detcord had already been placed around the barred door blocking their access, and on his order it was fired. Leaving two men to guard their escape route, Kona led his team through the door. Without power or security codes, it took four more charges to reach the large corridor that led to the hanger. Using a small mirror to check for toasters before emerging, Private Ford saw four of them waiting by the large door. From a pouch he pulled a grenade. Once thrown, it took out two of the centurions. Expert gunfire quickly took out the rest.
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"Sir, Minister Wenutu is calling again. I've also got almost a dozen ships approaching at flank speed."
"Put her through" ordered Cain.
"Colonial Fleet. I am once more insisting that you leave, immediately." Wenutu demanded, an edge to her normally smooth voice. "The Canceran Military is now on site, and will handle what Cylons still dare to be in our space."
"As I said before, Minister, this is a wartime engagement. As a military officer, there is no way I am leaving until the last Cylon ship is destroyed."
Suddenly from behind her came a different voice. "Minister Wenutu, surely you understand how this looks to Colonial Fleet. I appreciate the sensitivity regarding these facilities, but this is not the time for political jousting." York was stunned that anyone would interrupt Cain, civilian or not.
"Mr. Quade," The voice suddenly had a different tone. York wasn't sure if it was respect or irony. "I did not realize you were still indentured to the Capricans." A loud sigh followed these words, "Very well, do as you must. We will clean up whatever mess Colonial Fleet leaves in its wake. At their, and your, expense of course Sinon."
The line clicked off. York stood there; the battle almost momentarily forgotten. Was that a threat? A shout from the fire control station brought him back to reality. "All batteries, target the ship at 1-2-6 carom 0-0-4." Behind him he heard Cain talking to Sinon.
"You appear to have an agreeable relationship with the minister. There's some history there, I presume?"
"Merely professional courtesy. I've worked for her in the past." Sinon answered. Doing what a voice in the back of York's head asked as he resumed focusing on his ship. He filed the thought away for later.
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
"Alpha, Bravo lead. Toasters are clear from the control rooms. We've located the warden and chief of security. They're working to get main power online."
"Roger, Bravo. Ophion, sitrep." Kona barked into his headset.
"Wait one, Alpha." Came the reply, followed by a loud spatter of a rifle on full automatic.
"Ophion here, toasters are pulling back. They've got a group of civies with them. They're using them as frakking shields."
"Copy. We're in position. Guide them to us, we'll take it from there."
All around him his fire team prepared itself. They had taken up a position inside the open doors to the corridor, using crates and boxes as cover. As a security measure this was the only way into the hangar, which made it a good spot for an ambush. Behind them sat six Heavy Raiders, all of which had been swept and completely disabled. It was amazing how efficient bullets could be at tearing through computer consoles.
"Alpha, Ophion. We are approaching the hangar corridor. Report seven tangos. Three are in front, leading the group of hostages. The other four are in the rear engaging us from behind civilian shields. Unknown number of hostages. Estimate twenty plus."
"Acknowledged." Frak, he said to himself. With that many noncombatants in the picture, this wasn't going to be easy. There weren't going to be any clear lines of fire either. "Ophion, fall back. Let them think they've escaped. When we open fire, take out the rearguard."
"Roger."
"Everyone hold fire until I give the word. Sharpshooters, aim for their heads. Lets make this as clean as possible." He ordered his team.
The hangar was darker than the corridor, which helped visibility for them. With a whoosh, the door at the far end opened. The sweeping red eyes of the Centurions made excellent targets in the murk. Centering his sights on the center one, he pulled the trigger. His bullet found its mark. The Centurions head snapped back, much as a humans would, and the body dropped to the floor. On either side its comrades were similarly dispatched.
"Get down!" shouted Kona to the frightened civies. They were blocking any attempts at shooting the remaining Cylons. Some of them still had enough wits to understand and obey, dropping to the floor. The rest merely stood there or ran towards the hangar. Realizing there was a threat to their rear, two of the toasters turned, spraying bullets across the corridor mouth not caring who they hit. Four civilians went down, and a cry from his left told Kona that at least one of his marines was hit by a stray shot. Sounds of shots from farther up the corridor reached his ears and one of the centurions jerked and fell.
Some of the hostages that had gotten down were now running in panic, and several were shot down by the Cylons. Taking as careful aim as he could, Major Kona and his marines returned fire. Caught in a crossfire, the toasters didn't last long. Unfortunately, neither did their human shields.
"Medic!" cried several of the marines as they moved forward to disarm the downed Cylons. Of the twenty-one hostages that they had been trying to evacuate with, eight were dead and four more were injured. It was hard to be sure exactly how many were dead from colonial weapons, and Kona doubted they would ever know.
BSGBSGBSGBSGBSG
With a blip the last Cylon Talon was destroyed. It was over. Reports were coming in from the marine boarding teams and the rest of the fleet. They'd stopped the Cylons from going off with anymore human prisoners, but from the sound of it the cost of doing that had been high. Canceran officers had boarded Prison Station Nine. Cain was already on the phone with Prime Minister Hudson, who was demanding to know why colonial marines had killed the prisoners they were supposed to be rescuing. Commander York was reviewing Major Kona's initial report. Based on what he read there hadn't been another option. "If only they'd frakking called us in the first place, maybe this wouldn't have happened" he growled.
Aboard the station, Slingshot surveyed the carnage. She had been sent back to Acropolis for a medical team. The corpsman warned her that she probably didn't want to see the carnage, but that didn't stop her from following him. Marines were standing nearby, some on guard, some answering the questions of the officers who had stormed in shortly after the bullets stopped flying. The hallway was a bloodbath. The bodies of the dead, she refused to use the word corpses, had been removed for burial groundside. She was relieved when the recall order was given and she could leave. The flight back was silent, no one said a word. After landing and signing over her Raptor to the deck crew, she made her way to Acropolis' small chapel. There, she prayed to the gods while tears rolled down her face. She didn't hear Bojay come in behind her, but she felt him put his hand on her shoulder. In her grief over what she'd seen, that contact was all that kept her rooted.