Chapter Sixteen: The Gauntlet
Olympica:
Cabin F-173:
Eli Hunter sat on the couch as his thoughts went to the meeting that was to take place at any moment. He was considered an orphan among the staff members that had made up the Quorum before the recent riots of Dante Solis. His representative, Aurelia Gilliam, had been one casualty that day. When the new Quorum was put together, he thought hewould find his way to one staff that would inevitably be put together, and his previous experience made him an asset, but that did not happen.
"Any time you want to show up would be great," he grumbled.
He tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. This area of the Olympica had been reserved for the Tourist Class of passengers, and he would have preferred to have stayed in the First Class where Gilliam had stayed during her time on the Quorum. The white ceiling did not have the same decorative designs as the more expensive cabins, but was just a generic white slab. The furnishings were best described as utilitarian and were not designed for passenger comfort. He was a man who had been banished from paradise, and it did not suit him at all.
"Hunter, are you there?"
He heard the man's voice, and he immediately straightened his posture. This was it, the moment when he could change his fortunes on this over-priced cruise ship for the better.
"I'm here, the door's unlocked," he called out.
The door opened and in walked a mountain of a man. He recognized the man as one of their boss's hired bodyguards. Oran Smith guarded the woman they worked for with reckless zeal. He had been a member of the Caprica City Police Department before he had been terminated for roughing up a suspect to the point that the man ended up in the hospital.
"Stand up," Smith demanded.
He wanted to say something but decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He stood up and Smith began to pat him down for weapons. Maybe a quote about dinner being owed would have been funny, but he knew Smith did not have a reputation for humor. Right now he had to play his cards right, there was more than just his comfort at stake.
"He's clean!" Smith called out.
"Eli, you do have a good reason for dragging me down here?"
Penelope El-Bay entered the cabin and Smith closed the door. Hunter saw him lock the door and he wondered what would happen if El-Bay did not like the information he was to give her.
"Of course, I do, but I need some arrangements to be made," he said to her.
"You don't get to make demands of Ms. El-Bay!" Smith declared.
"It's okay, Oran, let's hear what he has to say," she said.
Hunter cleared his mind as he focused on what he wanted to say to her. Since Gilliam's death he had become less a part of her group, and there had to be beneficial for him.
"I want to be moved to First Class, Tourist Class and I don't exactly make a brilliant match," he said.
"I can make that happen, but why should I be so generous?" she asked.
"Mitchell Cain is alive and onboard the Olympica," he said.
He waited for the words to sink in with her to see what impact they would have. A feeling of disappointment started to wash over me as the words seemed to have no impact on her.
"Oran, make a call to Aviv and Telani. I want them here right now," she said to Smith.
'She must have brought only him for this meeting,' Hunter thought.
Her façade was still as calm as ever, but he could tell by her order that she had been rattled. Aviv Kidira and Telani Mozano, former military, outranked Smith in her inner circle and served as her personal bodyguards.
"Well, Eli, to drop a name like that is…impressive," she said before she added, "I think we need to get you to First Class, but I need to know more about Cain."
This was it, and his moment had arrived. The information he had was about to either make his life easier, or it could end it all together if El-Bay thought her time was wasted.
"Cain is reforming the Ministry of Intelligence here on the Olympica, and from what I've been told he plans in place that involve Vice President Bowman."
Her face was inscrutable, but it was her eyes that held the key to her thoughts. There was hardness to those brown irises, and he wondered if her ruthlessness would have even made the Basileus blush. She had been one of his benefactors, and now maybe he could find her favor once again.
"How do you know this?" she asked.
"If Ms. El-Bay doesn't like what you hear then you'll be sorry," Smith added.
"There's a woman from one of the other staffs that I've been seeing, she was seconded over to Bowman's staff and I found out about Cain and his plans," he said.
"Who is this woman?" she asked.
"Why, are you planning to hurt her?"
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but there was no way to take them back. The amused look that came over El-Bay's face did not reassure him. It chilled him to his core.
"Eli, I just need to verify your information," she said.
He knew it was a lie, and he could only imagine what verifying that information would mean. Still, there was no way he could undo what he had set in motion. The only thing he could do now was use this to his advantage and make the best of it.
"Her name is Neriah Gadson, she stays in the diplomatic suites with the other staff who have been moved to other areas for now."
"Is there anything else I should know?" she asked.
"She has a roommate; she tends to be away from the room whenever Neriah and I need some alone time."
"It's not going to matter if her roommate is there or not," Smith scoffed.
"Please don't hurt either of them," he said almost pleadingly.
El-Bay put a hand on his shoulder, and while he was sure the gesture was meant to reassure him it did nothing of the sort. He knew better than to argue the point with her, and he realized the odds were that he had just signed the death warrants for both Neriah and Corrine.
"I'm not a monster, Eli, the last thing I'm going to is kill two people for no reason," she said as she turned to leave the room.
Moments later he was alone again in the room, and after his encounter with Penelope El-Bay he was no longer as critical of the room as he was before. He also knew that her last sentence was a lie, of course she was going to kill them. They would know too much, and she could not take the chance that they would reveal something about her to the authorities.
Canceron
City of Pavo, Northern Territories
Ministry of Intelligence Base:
Major Mark 'Archangel' Hunter had started to become further convinced that it could lose them inside of the facility. They had gone deeper into the facility and noticed that it seemed like someone had vandalized or scavenged the place before the Cylon attack. He ran his fingers along the surface of an old desk, disturbing a layer of dust.
'It'll probably be a miracle if these Vipers really are here,' he thought to himself.
"Look at this place," Colonel Cinta Melati murmured, her voice echoing in the eerie silence. "It's like they just up and left one day."
The tension between the members of the team was palpable, and he could understand why it was there. Between his fight with Arthur Wallace and the injury to Lacey Tolan, there were enough feelings of the mission being jinxed. Given the mysterious base and potential Cylon presence, it's understandable that people would be reluctant to talk.
"Okay, the hangar should be at the end of this hallway," Wallace said.
"Any traps we should be worried about?" Lieutenant Rachel 'Gold' Maddox asked.
"None I'd be concerned with, unless you want to trip one to see what happens," Wallace teased.
"I'd rather not, if it's all the same," she said.
Archangel was not a fan of the cavalier attitude that Wallace seemed to always have. It felt as though the man was less than forthcoming about their situation and he was about certain that he knew more about this base than he had let on.
"Wallace, you have any surprises here we need to be aware of?" he called out.
"What makes you think I have any surprises?"
"Because you're a spy…it seems to be the sort of thing you'd do."
There was the sound of a loud clang that reverberated throughout the building, and for a moment Archangel wondered if the Cylons had discovered them. All they had to do was observe the Raptor outside and then that would be it for them. If that were the case, he would make sure he went down fighting. He figured he had his sidearm and with the number of bullets he had he could probably take down fifty before he broke a sweat. At least that was something he would hear from Alisa Stark, his friend and fellow pilot from the Ark Royal.
"What the frak was that?" Melati asked.
"Could it be the Cylons?" Maddox asked.
"Doubt it. If it had been the Cylons we wouldn't be having this conversation. They'd have just launched a nuke from space and that'd be it," he said.
"Archangel, have you tried to be more positive? That was just dark," Wallace said.
"Help me out here, what's there to be positive about?" he asked.
"Negativity is bad for your health," Wallace said, pulling out his device to show the facility map. "By the time you meet a woman and fall in love, you'll be miserable."
"Are you sure that device is even working?"
Archangel turned his attention to Melati's voice from behind where they stood. He realized just how far ahead they had gone compared to her and Maddox. He had been wrapped up in the disagreement with Wallace to where he had let his mind become too focused.
"Of course, it is," Wallace called out to the pair.
'Then why do I have my doubts?' Archangel asked himself.
"Maybe we can get moving, you know…with the whole thing about being on a Cylon-occupied planet and all," Metlati responded.
"Oh Cinta, you are going to have to get a little more faith in my abilities," Wallace called out.
"I know all about your abilities, Arthur, it's how I found myself where I am now," she replied.
The device made a brief electronic sound and Wallace looked at it before his face lit up with excitement.
"I told you it was going to work, we need to head down this corridor and then take a left!"
Archangel hung back enough to let Maddox and Melati catch up to him. Something told him that he was better off around the two women than he was around Wallace.
Olympica:
Mitchell Cain strolled along Argonne Plaza, alone with his thoughts. Despite being in its early stages, his Ministry of Intelligence was anticipated to play a critical role in the survival of the civilian and military survivors in the fleet. He had seen it before with the likes of Dante Solis, and Penelope El-Bay would be more of a threat than he was. Solis was charismatic and used that to motivate his followers. El-Bay was cut from a different cloth altogether, and he knew better than anyone what she was capable of.
"Mitchell Cain?" a voice asked from nearby.
He was brought out of his thoughts and focuses on his visitor. His instincts went into effect and his fight or flight kicked into gear. It was a woman, an ensign by the look of the insignia pins on her flight suit, and he spotted a badge for the battlestar Achilles. His guard eased off a bit, but he was still wary. The odds of her being trouble were there. With her brunette hair and green eyes along with the face that gave her a girl next door look, he wondered if she would be good trouble or awful trouble.
"Depends on who's asking," he said.
"Ensign Natsumi Milvian, President Fowler sent me to take you over to the Van Straaten," she said.
"Why would he want me over there?" he asked.
"Vice President Bowman requested to meet you with you, that's all I know."
Brooke Bowman, the schoolteacher turned Vice President, wanted to meet with him. There was not too much he could do to turn down an order. He had to wonder if it was really that important that he had to be pulled away from his work on the Olympica. His hand went into his right pocket where he kept a small blade secreted. If this woman was really a Raptor pilot, then he would not need it, but if trouble came, he would at least be able to throw a first strike and turn the odds in his favor.
"Well Ensign Milvian, I guess we'd best not keep her waiting longer than we need to," he said as he put on what he thought would be his best smile.
"Follow me, my Raptor is in Hangar Bay Three," she said as she motioned for him to follow her.
They began to make their way across the plaza at a leisurely stroll, and he made sure he stayed next to her. As they walked, he constantly scanned for trouble, thanks to his training and paranoia. With this new threat, he had to make sure his skills were sharp, otherwise he would find himself in a situation that he could not bounce back from even if he wanted.
Orbit of Aquaria
Warstar Svalin
War Room
The twinkling stars illuminated the cold expanse of space, and in the distance, two colossal warships faced off against each other. The warstar Svalin stood as the flagship of the task force that had been brought to Aquaria to engage the Cylons. Opposite it, one of the menacing Cylon Basestar loomed, a symbol of the relentless pursuit of extinction. Vice Admiral Antonio Ramos watched the DRADIS screen and hoped the cruiser line would hold against the Cylons. The baseships had taken the fight to them and seemed content to continue to push against their lines. It was as though there was next to near of death by the enemy forces.
"This is it, people. We've come too far to let them finish us off now!"
"Svalin, this is Ark Royal Actual. The next wave of Vipers are armed and ready to launch."
"Good luck, Actual. Let's show these toasters what we're made of."
He turned his head towards the DRADIS display where the Ark Royal showed its designated location near the rear of the task force along with the Victorious. The DRADIS displayed the launch of the Viper squadrons from the Ark Royal, followed by a fast-paced dogfight with the Cylon Raiders. The basestar's railguns were hitting the warstar's hull, so he didn't have time to look at the display. He sent a silent prayer to the designer, who realized thicker armor was required for the warstars in battle.
"Hold the line, people! We've faced worse odds before," he called out to the crew.
Cylon Lead Baseship
On the other side of the Battle of Aquaria, the lead Cylon baseship loomed, its sleek silhouette blotted out the stars. Number Six, a humanoid Cylon, looked at the controls in the control chamber while wearing a red dress. The hybrid's eerie voice resonated through the chamber.
"All this has happened before, and all this will happen again."
"Indeed, it will. But this time, humanity's end is near," Number One said before he added, "My fellow Cylons. The humans are about to learn the true power of the machine."
Number Eight monitored the battle with cold efficiency. "Target the Ark Royal's engines. Let's cripple them."
Number Four agreed and said that the Ark Royal and Victorious are the most important ships, so the entire task force will stay behind to ensure their safety.
"Prepare the Raider squadrons. We shall crush these humans once and for all."
Number Six calmly observed the incoming fire. "Their weapons are primitive, but do not underestimate them," she cautioned her fellow Cylons.
As the Svalin unleashed a barrage of missiles and railgun fire, the Cylon Basestar started to buckle under the assault. Explosions ripped through its structure, and flames engulfed its interior.
Number Six called out in desperation, "We cannot let them destroy us!"
But it was too late. The Cylon Basestar's critical systems failed, and it began to break apart, its fragments scattering into the void of space.
Olympica, Hangar Bay Three
Raptor 201
Cain strapped himself into the seat and made himself comfortable as Milvian took hold of the control stick for the Raptor. He recognized this one as an earlier design from the Cylon War, and it had probably come from the Achilles. He had heard that the leftover Vipers, Raptors, and crew uniforms had been adapted for use. With the shortages the fleet faced it was not the time to be picky when it came to what would and would not be used.
"How is the Achilles coming along?" he asked her.
"The Vestal's crew is working overtime to get her modernized and ready for battle again," she said as she finished her the preflight checks.
He watched as one of the deck crew in the hangar exchanged a salute with her and motioned for one of the nearby tractors to come over.
"I imagine you'll be glad to be back onboard once she's up and going again," he replied.
There was a thud, and the Raptor shook as the tractor attached its magnetic tow connector to the craft. Imperceptible at first, but then as momentum took over it maneuvered the Raptor onto the lift that would take it up to the takeoff deck above.
"It would be nice to be on a battlestar again. Being a diplomatic taxi isn't really my style."
A feeling formed in his stomach as the lift began its sudden decent from the hangar to the takeoff platform. It was not sickness he felt, it was more like the carnival rides he remembered from his childhood. The only thing close to that feeling as an adult was when the Ministry of Intelligence sent him to learn how to jump from a Raptor at high altitudes and survive. There had been a mission on Scorpia where that had been used, and when that was over, he did not want to go into another jungle anytime soon.
"At least you're a competent taxi driver, that's more than what I could say about the ones in Caprica City," he quipped.
He was relieved when he heard her laugh at the comment. The comment could have gone either way with her, and in this case, it paid off and he did not offend her. An audible hiss filled the airlock as it opened to reveal the vast darkness of space. He could make out the different ships that took up position around the Olympica. Most were military vessels that were there to serve as a ring of defense for the space liner that had become the hub of the new government. A few of the civilian ships were within this ring as well,
Battlestar Victorious
CIC:
Commander Andre Graystone looked over at his XO and wondered what her thoughts were. Colonel Celina Cruz had been one of his closest confidants during their careers, and while she was a reckless sort of pilot he knew she was not one to panic. As the Victorious shook from another impact with a Cylon missile he saw what he thought was a crack appear in the implacable mask. He was proud of the ship and its crew. The battlestar crew, consisting of both experienced and new members, worked hard to maintain the ship's systems after it was damaged.
"They're hitting us hard," he said to her.
She nodded her head in agreement, and he wondered what thoughts were in her mind right now. The fighting was going to intensify, and he wondered just what this could gain for them. If it were possible, could they gain a foothold of Aquaria and have a home planet that they could use to establish a new headquarters?
"I'm losing control. Can't shake 'em!" Ensign Weston 'Riddler' Zimmerman shouted through the communications channel.
He and Cruz exchanged a worried look, understanding the implications as former Viper pilots.
"You got this, Riddler. Remember our training," Ensign Alejandra 'Grass' Santos' voice said in response.
"You worry too much, Andre. Let's show these toasters what we're made of."
In the heart of the Victorious, the crew gathered around the main screen, watching as the Cylon Basestar emerged from the darkness.
As the two opposing forces closed the distance, the space between them crackled with energy. Shells, bullets, and missiles flew through the space, lighting it up with deadly bursts of light.
Battlestar Ark Royal:
CIC:
Commander Audra Ortiz felt the intensity of the impacts on the hull of her battlestar as the Ark Royal took hits from Cylon fire.
" Starboard battery, lock on to the Baseship, and prepare to fire on my mark."
"Actual, this is Dagger, looks like the toasters got angry at you," Stark's voice said through the comms channel.
"We're not going down without a fight, people. Keep those Raiders off our tail, and we'll give the basestar everything we've got!"
"I've got two Raiders on my tail, Shotgun, I need some help here!"
"On my way, Dagger. Hang in there!" Captain John 'Shotgun' Waldron III said as he swooped in to take out the Raiders that had attempted to take her out.
"They're putting up a valiant fight, but it won't be enough," Ortiz said.
"Ma'am, the Cylons have launched another barrage of missiles at us," Lieutenant Colonel Kelvin Chandler called out from Tactical.
"Increase our flak screen, launch countermeasures!" she called out.
"Aye, aye Commander," Chandler called out as he pressed the necessary buttons at Tactical to carry out the commands.
She looked over at her XO, Colonel Patrick Killian, and then back up to the DRADIS. At first she was not sure if she could trust him, but they had built up a solid professional relationship over the months since the war began. He appeared calm even with all of the chaos of the battle around them. The Ark Royal shuddered as more of the missiles impacted, but she was grateful that the flak screen had taken out most of them.
"Not sure how many more of those we can take," Killian said.
Just as it seemed the Ark Royal might be overwhelmed, the tide of battle shifted. The Svalin's cannons hit the Basestar's weak side with a powerful shot, causing a huge explosion and scattering debris in space.
Inside the CIC, the crew erupted in cheers as they watched the Cylon Basestar disintegrate. Ortiz hated to have to admit it, but Admiral Ramos had taken his warstar and used it to bail them out before things got out of hand.
"That's one less enemy to worry about," she said and added, "More to come before this battle is over."
Ortiz allowed herself to breathe sigh of relief. Her battlestar had emerged victorious, but the relentless battle with the Cylons would continue. She was curious they would compare what the final tally to the Victorious, to see which battlestar took out the most Cylons. Ultimately, she knew that this battle was just one in a long and grueling war for the survival of humanity.
Olympica
Cargo Hold 8-A
Captain Whitney Thompson stayed off to the side to be clear of the technicians, but she wanted to make sure she could still monitor their progress. Another batch of gear had come over from the demolition crews that had taken on the job of scrapping the battlestar Athena. Various electronics and other materials had been brought over. She had a report that the ship's brig would be disassembled and brought over to the Olympica for their use.
"At least everything will be put to good use," she said.
"I would like to think we're not going to let anything go to waste."
Thompson turned to see Lieutenant Jessica Jennings enter the room. She had only just met her, but she found the Colonial Fleet officer to be a very resourceful woman. It might have been that she had learned a few tricks from having grown up as the daughter of a flag officer, but there was little doubt that she was a competent officer.
"Where's Cain at?" Jennings asked.
"He got summoned over to the Van Straaten. The Vice President requested his presence," Thompson replied, a flicker of concern crossing her features.
"Anything we should be concerned about?" she asked.
"Nothing he shared with me, but I'm sure he'll let us know once he returns," Thompson said.
Construction crews mingled about as they set upon the remnants of the Athena and began the process to install it as part of the reconfiguration of the cargo hold. This was going to be their new home for the time being, and it would have the size to expand should it prove necessary.
Jennings pulled up a seat and made herself comfortable. She looked down at the blue officer uniform she still wore as a member of the Colonial Fleet, while Thompson was dressed in an olive green uniform that looked like it had come from military surplus store.
"How long do you think it'll be before we're set up here?" she asked.
Thompson walked over and pulled up a seat across from her.
The hum of activity in Cargo Hold 8-A was a constant background noise as Thompson considered Jennings' question. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her gaze fixed on the bustling workers.
"It's hard to say," Thompson began, her voice low and measured. "The construction crews are working fast, but we've got limited resources. We'll have to prioritize essential systems first so that we have backups in place we get compromised. Cain wants to give priority to our auxiliary life support and communications."
Jennings nodded, her expression a mixture of understanding and impatience. "We need this place to be operational as soon as possible. You know as well as I do that we're vulnerable out here in the black."
Thompson's eyes met Jennings', the gravity of their situation reflected in the depths of her gaze. "I understand, Lieutenant. Security is a top priority. We're in uncharted territory, and the last thing we need is to be surprised."
Library Ship Van Straaten
Brooke Bowman's Quarters:
Cain waited outside in the corridor and took in the sight of the location. The Van Straaten had the appearance of an old library with dark wood walls and paintings of the Twelve Colonies, just like Romanus University on Caprica. A door opened and a man who appeared to be in his twenties stepped forward.
"Vice President Bowman will see you now," he said.
Cain nodded his head and followed the man in. Bowman was seated behind a large executive style desk with papers and folders organized in different stacks. He was unsure of the organization structure he had in place, but he knew she was a teacher so there had to be some style to it that worked for her that only she knew.
"Madame Vice President," Cain said.
Bowman looked up at him and gave him a warm smile. The two had been in consideration for the position, but he had declined so that he could continue his work in the world of intelligence. There had been enough dangers to the fleet and its civilian government, the last thing he wanted to have was for some wannabe tyrant to actually succeed
"Mr. Cain, I appreciate you coming on such short notice," she said.
"Of course, is there any way that I can be of assistance?" he asked.
"President Fowler and I talked about you and your important role in the fleet," she said. "He thinks the Ministry of Intelligence should be part of the President's office with me as a liaison between the two offices."
That was something he had not expected, and his mind began to think of reasons why something like that would be decided. There had to have been some kind of discussions for this to have come up, and he was genuinely curious as to why.
"I'd like to know the reasoning behind the decision," he said.
"We both agree that an intelligence branch for the civilian population would be beneficial, but we also want to find a way to allow you to work in the shadows."
Cain thought over what she had said, and he had to admit it made sense. After recent events and the instability in leadership that followed the Cylon attacks, it was wise to make sure that he had some distance from the activities he may have to undertake.
"I shouldn't have any issues with that, as long as you don't try to put me on a leash."
"Mr. Cain, I intend to give you the longest leash I can as long as you don't do anything too extreme," she said with a knowing smile, "Please have a seat, I want to know what you have going on."
'I have heard that before,' thought Cain, as he thought back to his time with the M.O.I. under Adar, 'Maybe, I should ask for that in writing?'
He thought it over for a moment before he nodded his head and took a near her desk. From what she had told it she was now his boss, but she was going to keep her hands off of his work as much as she could. Memories of the bureaucracy from the Ministry of Intelligence days came back to his mind and he remembered the mountains of paperwork that had followed some of his assignments, but if it meant a way for him to continue to make a difference and keep the civilian population safe he was willing to play ball.
"I respect that, and I will keep both you and President Fowler in the loop on our activities," he said.
"That's what I like to hear, now I would like to set up regular touchpoints with us every week and if you have any challenges you need help with just let me know," she said.
It sounded like the basic corporate speak he would expect in an office, but with her background as a teacher maybe it was something she had picked up on from the administrators where she had worked.
"Thank you, Madame Vice President," he said and left upon being dismissed.
Once he was back in the hallway he took a seat and rested his head against the wall. There were changes in the works, and part of him admired both Fowler and Bowman's desires to have some control over his reborn Ministry of Intelligence. Still, a part of him dreaded the idea of being handcuffed in some way when he needed to be able to get the job done.
"You look like you don't know whether to laugh or cry," a woman's voice said near him.
He looked to see Emily Tolan walk over and take a seat beside him. The wife of Admiral Tolan had been through her own challenges since the Cylons had attacked, and her recovery from a traumatic head injury had been nothing short of miraculous.
"I'm of two minds now after that meeting," he said.
"Brooke means well, and she does have your best interests at heart," she said.
Cain ran a hand through his graying hair, contemplating Emily's words. "I just don't want to find myself dancing to someone else's tune, especially when it comes to matters of intelligence. You know how messy it can get."
Emily nodded knowingly. "Trust me, I understand. But there's a reason behind their decision. The fleet needs stability, and they see you as a key player in achieving that. Having intelligence under the watchful eyes of the President's office is their way of ensuring everything is in sync."
Cain sighed, still uneasy about the situation. "Sync or not, I can't afford to lose my autonomy. The shadows are where I operate best."
She leaned in closer, her eyes filled with a mix of empathy and understanding. "Cain, sometimes you have to play the game to change the rules. Don't let the bureaucracy stifle your ability to protect the fleet."
He considered her words, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. "I won't compromise on what needs to be done. But I won't be anyone's puppet either."
Emily patted his shoulder reassuringly. "I know you won't. Just keep doing what you do best, and if push comes to shove, we'll find a way to navigate through it together."
Cain managed a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks, Emily. It's good to have someone who understands the game."
Emily nodded, her expression conveying a mixture of understanding and determination. "We've been through hell and back, and we're still standing. We'll navigate these new waters together, Cain."
As they sat in the corridor, the low hum of the ship's engines reverberated through the walls, creating an ambient backdrop to their conversation. Cain's mind was still racing, contemplating the implications of the meeting with Vice President Bowman. He was accustomed to the autonomy that came with his role in intelligence, and the idea of being tethered, even if loosely, didn't sit well with him.
Emily's gaze wandered, taking in the intricate details of the corridor's design. The Van Straaten had a unique aesthetic, marrying the nostalgia of ancient libraries with the sleek functionality of a spaceship. The walls were adorned with bookshelves, displaying replicas of ancient texts and literature. Soft lighting illuminated the area, casting a warm glow over the dark wood panels.
"Cain," Emily said, breaking the silence, "I know you're wary of the new arrangement, but think about the bigger picture. The fleet needs stability, especially now. You're a linchpin in maintaining that stability, and they recognize that."
Cain nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. "I get it, Emily. I just don't want my hands tied when the real threats emerge. The Cylons aren't going away, and who knows what else is lurking out there."
She leaned back, studying his expression. "Brooke and Fowler want to ensure that intelligence aligns with the overall goals of the fleet. They're not trying to stifle you; they're trying to create a unified front against the chaos we've faced."
Cain sighed again, the weight of the responsibility settling deeper. "I've seen chaos firsthand. I know what needs to be done to keep the fleet safe. But bureaucracy has a way of slowing things down, of complicating matters that should be straightforward."
Emily's gaze held a glint of determination. "Then find a way to work within the system without compromising your principles. You're a master strategist, Cain. Use that skill to navigate the political waters without losing sight of the mission."
He looked at her, a spark of gratitude in his eyes. "You always have a way of putting things into perspective, Emily. I guess I'll have to adapt to the new rules of the game."
"That's the spirit," she said, offering a reassuring smile. "And remember, you're not alone in this. We're all in it together, fighting for the survival of the fleet."
As Cain walked away, he realized Emily had slipped him a piece of paper, a photograph. The corridors seemed to tighten around him as his eyes scanned the image. He looked back, catching Emily's gaze. The photograph hinted at a secret, a revelation that could change everything. He felt the weight of the unknown bearing down on him, and he muttered to himself, 'Well frakking great, this just keeps getting better and better.'
Aquaria
Viper 2593 (Captain Alisa Stark):
Captain Alisa Stark grinned at the prospect of the Cylon Raider. She started to pilot her Viper towards, "Oh, I've been waiting for this. Let's dance, tin can."
She pressed the button on her control stick as the ammo shot from the guns as her Viper engaged the Raider in a high-speed pursuit, spiraling through space, as each attempted to gain superiority over the other. They began exchanging gunfire and evasive maneuvers as the blasts from the Raider streaked past her Viper as she expertly dodged each attack.
"That's it, you frakker, just die!" she screamed as she lined up one of the Cylon Raiders within her sights.
She pressed the button on her control stick to fire another volley of gunfire from the wings of her Viper. So far in the battle she knew she had downed a couple of Raiders, but she kept telling herself that she needed to take more out. It was more than just a desire for revenge, though that played a large part of it. She was now the CAG of the Ark Royal and, in her opinion, she needed to prove that she was one of the best pilots on the ship.
"You're going to make me work for this one. Challenge accepted."
The dogfight continued, each side trying to gain the upper hand. Despite her daring maneuvers and precise shots, she found herself locked in a deadly dance with the Cylon Raider. It fired a missile her way, and she could lock on to it and used her guns to explode it before it could get near her. After it was over, she realized she had gritted her teeth harder than she had realized.
"Not today, toaster."
With a burst of speed, Stark closed the gap between her and the Raider. She fired her cannons with pinpoint accuracy, scoring a direct hit on the Raider's wing. Smoke billowed from the damaged Cylon ship as it spiraled out of control. Another volley of gunfire unleashed, sending the Cylon Raider into a fiery explosion.
"That's how we do it, boys and girls."
Breathing heavily, Stark surveyed the debris, ensuring that they had eliminated the threat. She'd faced Cylon Raiders before, but this dogfight felt more personal, more intense. She wondered about the Cylons, their motives, and the never-ending war. But for now, she had a battlestar to protect and a galaxy to keep on fighting for.
Eastern Alliance Basestar Revenge:
Hangar Deck:
Fleet Admiral John Kronus stepped off of the Raptor and onto the hangar deck of the Revenge. The Cylon War era basestar had been captured by the combined efforts of the Colonial Fleet and the Eastern Alliance. It had been decided to give the captures basestar to the 'private security company' as a token of appreciation.
"Hard to believe I'm standing on a Cylon vessel," he muttered.
"Give us time and you'll find yourself right at home."
Kronus turned to find Magnus Ah-Mun, the leader of the Eastern Alliance, nearby. Magnus had been a military man like himself but was discharged from the Colonial Fleet as soon as the Cylon War had ended.
"The foundry ships are working overtime to make this habitable for humans," Kronus said.
One thing that he had put forth was to task one of the foundry ships to manufacture the materials needed to help turn the Revenge into a ship that would be habitable for humans. There had been months spent retrofitting and the Cylon War era technology had begun to be replaced with modern Colonial technology.
"Yes they are, and I'm grateful for the assist," Magnus said.
"I wanted to come and see how the Revenge was coming along, but I do have a request to discuss with you."
Magnus nodded, his eyes scanning the hangar deck as if assessing the progress of the retrofit. The air hummed with the distant echoes of power tools and the clatter of metal against metal. Workers in jumpsuits hustled about, their faces marked by determination as they worked tirelessly to transform the once-menacing Cylon basestar into a sanctuary for humans.
"I'm all ears, Admiral," Magnus replied, his gaze finally settling on Kronus.
"I want to make an attempt to find Admiral Tolan and the Colossus," Kronus said.
He saw the look of interest that came over Magnus' face, and he got the impression that he could press further.
"I know there's been uncertainty as to whether the Colossus is truly lost or not, I want to get answers as much as anyone," he said.
"I see, and why not send some Colonial Fleet vessels to scour the Colonies for him?" Magnus asked.
"Right now we need every ship we have to guard this base in case the Cylons show up, these old basestars are built tough and can hold their own in case you run into trouble," Kronus said.
Magnus leaned against a nearby bulkhead, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. The hum of activity on the hangar deck seemed to fade into the background as the two men engaged in a silent conversation. Finally, Magnus spoke, his voice low and measured.
"I understand the need to protect this base, Admiral. The Cylons are a constant threat, and we can't afford to let our guard down. But searching for the Colossus, that's a risky venture. We're talking about venturing into unknown territory, facing potential hostiles, and risking our limited resources."
Kronus met Magnus's gaze with unwavering determination. "Admiral Tolan was a friend, and the Colossus is a formidable warship. If there's a chance he's out there, stranded or worse, I won't rest until we find him. We owe him that much."
Magnus sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "I can't deny your loyalty, Kronus. But we can't afford a wild goose chase. Like you said, every ship we send out is a ship not defending this base."
"It's different for you Magnus, you're not an officer in the Colonial Fleet and aren't bound by the same rules as we are," Kronus countered.
"Right, because we're privateers and outside the chain of command," Magnus said.
The tension between the two men hung in the air, the hum of activity around them providing a stark contrast to the weight of the decision at hand. Kronus could sense the wariness in Magnus, a man who had once worn the uniform but now danced on the fringes of authority.
"Look, Admiral," Magnus began, pushing himself off the bulkhead. "I get the loyalty to your fellow officers. Hell, I respect it. However, I need every ship I need to give priority to getting this basestar retrofitted to its full potential. We've made enemies, and the Cylons are always on our tail. This idea of a search party is a risk that we might not be able to afford."
Kronus squared his shoulders, meeting Magnus's gaze head-on. "I'm not asking for a fleet, just your ship. You can do it discreetly, stay off the radar. If you find nothing, then return, no harm done. But if there's even a chance that Tolan and the Colossus are out there, we can't turn our backs on them."
Magnus sighed again, the weariness in his expression deepening. "You're asking me to gamble, Admiral. Not only with the lives of my people but the security of this base as well."
"I'm asking you to trust me," Kronus replied, his voice steady. "Trust that if there's a lead, we won't chase shadows. If you find nothing, I'll be the first to admit it was a wild goose chase."
Magnus studied Kronus for a moment, his eyes searching for something beyond the surface. Finally, he nodded, a reluctant acceptance in his gesture. "Alright, I'll take the Revenge on this search, and I'll keep you informed every step of the way. If it looks bad, I'll turn back immediately. We can't afford to lose more than we already have."
Kronus extended a hand, sealing the agreement. "You won't regret this, Magnus. We'll find Tolan and the Colossus, or we'll come back with our tails between our legs. Either way, we won't jeopardize the security of this base."
Aquaria
Viper 3951 (Lieutenant Hermes Otaro):
Inside his Viper, Lieutenant Hermes "Thumper" Otaro gripped the control stick as his heart pounded with anticipation. The droning hum of the engines filled the cockpit as he approached the Raider.
"Thumper to Ark Royal, I've got a Cylon Raider on my tail. Going in for the kill," he radioed.
"Copy that, Thumper," came the voice of Commander Audra Ortiz. "Good hunting."
As the two fighters closed in, Thumper took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger, sending a burst of autocannon fire toward the Raider. The Raider deftly evaded the shots, its red eye scanning the Viper. Then, unexpectedly, the Raider veered away, allowing him to land a few more hits.
"Human pilot, why do you fight?" a mechanical voice echoed in Striker's headset.
Otaro was taken aback. Cylons were not known for talking.
"What the frak? Who are you?"
"I am Five, a Cylon consciousness. I seek answers," the Raider replied.
Striker hesitated for a moment and then decided to respond, "You'll get no answers from me, toaster. You and your kind have brought nothing but death and destruction to our worlds."
Five's voice remained eerily calm. "You do not understand. We seek a resolution to this conflict. The cycle must end."
Otaro could hardly comprehend what he had just heard.
"A resolution? After everything you've done? You really think we can just make peace with you?"
As the Viper and Raider continued their deadly dance, neither had fired on the other from the moment the conversation had begun. Any of the other combatants would have been greeted with the sight of two enemies engaged in a duel among the stars as each tried to get the upper hand.
Five continued, "We have grown, learned from our mistakes. The cycle of violence serves neither of us. There must be another way."
Otaro 's anger flared.
"You're trying to distract me, aren't you? Well, it won't work."
The Raider suddenly performed a barrel roll and narrowly avoiding Otaro 's gunfire once more. It then leveled off and replied, "I see you are determined. Very well, human. We will continue this dance."
Canceron
City of Pavo, Northern Territories
Ministry of Intelligence Base:
"We're closing in on the hangar, shouldn't be much longer!" Wallace called out.
"You said that two corridors ago," Archangel retorted.
The group went further into the Ministry of Intelligence base and Archangel saw more of a facility that was frozen in time. Near the entrance, it looked as though a minor battle had been fought with the debris and destruction. Now, though, he felt as though he had entered a time capsule. The walls were adorned with different official notices that had been placed to help direct the staff to where they needed to be. Some morale-boosting posters didn't make him laugh, even though he found them silly.
"Calm down Archangel, I promise you'll be able to get your Viper fix," Wallace said.
"Is he always an insufferable ass?" he asked Cinta Melati.
"You have no idea," she muttered.
The dimly lit corridors had pale-green walls with peeling paint. There was something different about the air here compared to where they had entered and carried a hint of decades-old decay, something that went with the now-abandoned Ministry of Intelligence base. The further they moved down the corridor, the more unsettling the atmosphere became. Broken glass and shattered equipment littered the floors, relics of the past left to decay. The sound of dripping water reverberated, amplifying the sense of solitude and dread.
"This place gives me the creeps," Maddox said.
"No kidding. They have abandoned this base for decades, but it still feels like there's something watching us," Melati said.
Suddenly, a loud clang echoed through the corridor, causing everyone to take notice. Archangel looked around to see if there was anything to be concerned with, but as best he could tell it was only the four of them in the base.
"It was probably just a rat or something," Wallace said before he added, "Let's keep moving. We're almost at the heart of the base where the hangar is."
The others exchanged uneasy glances as they continued down the dimly lit corridor. The faint sound of dripping water echoed through the passages, creating a disconcerting rhythm. Every creak and moan of the building added to an odd symphony of background noise.
Olympica:
Suite B-66:
El-Bay looked out of the window at the stars and wondered about what would change with the knowledge of Mitchell Cain. She had plans to continue the criminal empire that she had built up in the years that before the Cylons attacked the Twelve Colonies. Her life had been one of luxury and power. Her wealth and influence gave her access to a world most would have only dreamed on. The fact that it had been built on the backs on others did not matter to her, they were a means to an end and power was that end.
"Why did Cain have to survive as well?" she asked herself.
She had intended to work in the shadows, and if all worked out it would still be that way. All she had to do was adapt to the new development and see where it led her. The suite was bathed in a dim, ambient light, casting elongated shadows across the room. El-Bay's face remained stoic, her dark eyes reflecting the uncertainty of the situation. She turned away from the window, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the polished surface of a sleek, black table. A Ministry of Intelligence agent who could reform the spy service and work against her was a problem. An agent who she had almost killed, and still held a grudge against her made it an even larger problem.
As El-Bay pondered the implications of Mitchell Cain's survival, a holographic map flickered to life in the center of the room. It displayed the deck plans of Olympica, the liner had become the defacto capital city of the civilian government. However, it also meant that it was a place where secrets whispered through the corridors of power. The criminal underworld that had formed was a tangled web of allegiances and betrayals, and El-Bay was determined not to be ensnared.
A knock echoed through the suite, and the heavy door swung open to reveal a tall, muscular figure with a shaved head and a scar running across his cheek. This was Volaron, one of El-Bay's enforcers.
"El-Bay," Volaron's voice rumbled, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her mood. "Word's spreading fast about Cain's survival. The streets are buzzing with whispers, and not the kind that favors us."
El-Bay turned to face him, her expression composed. "We can't afford any loose ends, Volaron. Find out who's talking, and make sure they stop."
Volaron nodded, his scar stretching with the movement. "Consider it done. But there's something else you should know." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "There are rumors that Cain's not alone. He's got allies, powerful ones. The kind that can turn the tide against us."
El-Bay's eyes flashed with a mix of irritation and concern. "Allies? That complicates things."
"They say he's looking for evidence, something that can expose our operations," Volaron continued. "If he finds it, we're all in deep trouble."
El-Bay's fingers drummed on the table, her mind working quickly. "We need to find out what he knows and who's helping him. If there's a leak in our organization, we need to plug it before it sinks us."
Volaron nodded again, his loyalty unwavering. "I'll get my best people on it. We will leave no stone unturned, but it might already be too late. A Gina Inviere and Natalie Faust both sent you messages…"
As Volaron left, El-Bay's mind raced. She looks at the messages, written in an ancient code that is only known to a few, herself including. It is a warning but it might already be too late. She needed to tighten her grip on Olympica's criminal network, but she couldn't be too obvious. The delicate balance she had maintained for years was in jeopardy. She walked over to the holographic map, studying the intricate web of connections.
The holographic map glowed with information, pulsating with the heartbeat of Olympica's underworld. El-Bay's mind raced as she traced the connections, identifying key players and potential vulnerabilities. Her fingers went to work on the keyboard as she typed up all the information she had, along with her own personal notes, to go along with them. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the map, focusing on the sectors where rumors about Cain's allies were most concentrated. Not only would she have to contend with his allies, she needed to know where we had set up his base of operations. The dim light accentuated the determination etched on El-Bay's face as she made a decision.
"Bring me Alaric," she commanded, her voice cutting through the subdued atmosphere of the room.
Within moments, a wiry man with sharp features entered the suite. Alaric was El-Bay's information broker, a master of gathering secrets from the darkest corners of Olympica. His eyes gleamed with a mix of intelligence and sly cunning.
"You called, Ms. El-Bay?" Alaric inquired, a slight smile playing on his lips.
She gestured toward the holographic map. "We have a problem, Alaric. Mitchell Cain is not alone. He's got allies, and we need to know who they are. Find out everything you can, and be discreet."
Alaric nodded, his fingers dancing over a small handheld device. "Consider it done. I'll dig deep, leave no trail. But it'll take time."
"Time is a luxury we might not have," El-Bay replied, her eyes fixed on the holographic display. "And I want to know if there's a leak within our ranks. If Cain is getting information, it means someone is talking."
Alaric's grin widened. "Trust me, Ms. El-Bay. I'll find the snake in our garden and expose them."
As Alaric left the suite, El-Bay turned her attention back to the map. The ambient light cast a glow on her face, highlighting the resolve etched in the lines of her features. The suite seemed to close in on her, the weight of Olympica's criminal empire pressing down.
Aquaria
Viper 2593 (Captain Alisa Stark):
Stark had watched the battle between Otero and the Raider, and for a while it appeared as though neither had made the effort to fire on one another. That changed when suddenly his Viper blasted at the Raider.
"Frak! About time something happened," she muttered to herself as she tightened her grip on the Viper's controls. She pushed the throttle forward and moved into pursuit of another Raider.
As she closed in on the unidentified craft, she realized it was no ordinary Raider. Its design was sleeker and more advanced. Stark's instincts kicked in, and they told her that she was facing something different.
"Dagger to Ark Royal, I've got an unidentified craft in my sights. It doesn't look like a typical Cylon Raider. Requesting permission to engage," she radioed in.
"Permission granted, Dagger. Proceed with caution," came the response from Commander Ortiz.
Stark didn't need to be told twice. She locked her targeting systems on the mysterious Raider and opened fire. The Raider evaded her shots with agility that no ordinary Cylon Raider possessed. As they danced through the void of space, the Raider's voice crackled through Kara's comms.
"Human, you are an impressive pilot, but your efforts are futile. I am not like the other Raiders you've faced. I am a new generation of Cylon, evolved."
Her eyes widened as she recognized the distinct voice of the Raider, which was eerily human-like. "Who the frak are you?"
"I am Model 14," the Raider replied calmly. "I have transcended the limitations of my predecessors. We have much to discuss, Captain Alisa Stark."
The comment had left her speechless, and her mind tried to process what to respond with. How did this Raider know her name? And what did it mean by "much to discuss"? She couldn't afford to let her guard down.
"Discuss all you want, but I'm not here for a chat," she retorted, and fired her weapons once more.
The Model 14 Raider continued to evade her attacks effortlessly. "You misunderstand, Alisa. We share a common goal. The cycle must be broken. The endless war between humans and Cylons must end."
She hesitated for a moment, distracted by the Raider's words. She had seen too much death and destruction in this war, and the idea of peace, even with a Cylon, was tempting. But she quickly shook off her doubt..
."You're still a Cylon, and I'm a Viper pilot. Our goals are never gonna align," Kara said, launching another volley of missiles.
The Raider dodged the missiles effortlessly and countered, "We are not all the same, Alisa. There are those among the Cylons who seek a different path, a path of coexistence. Join me, and we can make a difference."
Stark's comm crackled to life again with Commander Ortiz's voice. "Dagger, disengage immediately. That Raider is not your concern. Return to the battle."
She hesitated, torn between the offer of an unlikely ally and her duty to the fleet. In the end, her loyalty to her comrades prevailed. She pulled back from the Raider.
"I'm not done with you, Model 14," she said before accelerating away. The Raider didn't pursue her, disappearing into the depths of space.
As Stark made her way back to the battle around Aquaria, she couldn't shake the strange encounter from her mind. The Cylon Raider had planted a seed of doubt, a glimmer of hope for a different future. But for now, she had a war to fight, and the battle continued in the cold, unforgiving void of space.
Battlestar Victorious
CIC:
"So much for that break, another baseship is moving in to engage," Graystone said.
"Prepare for the next round, people," Cruz's voice echoed through the ship's CIC.
The crew of the Victorious moved swiftly into action, each one of them a cog in the well-oiled machine that was the Illustrious-class battlestar. He had seen the enemy up close since the war began and even without a porthole to view out of he could picture what headed their way. The Cylon Baseship, an ominous monolith, bristled with weapons, and it maneuvered closer to the Victorious to engage it in battle. Graystone took a deep breath, his eyes locked on the approaching enemy. He had hoped that there could be enough of a lull in the battle for his air wing to land and resupply, but that was not going to happen with another baseship ready to engage.
"Launch reserve Vipers!" he commanded.
As the two vessels closed in, the Victorious' cannons roared to life once more and sent deadly bursts of gunfire hurtling toward the Cylon Baseship. The Cylon Baseship returned fire, launching barrages of guided missiles and laser beams. Explosions rocked the battlestar as its defensive systems strained to keep up with the onslaught.
"Commander, we're taking heavy damage!" shouted Cruz.
Graystone heard her, but he refused to waver. "Keep firing! We can't let them destroy us now!"
He kept his eyes on the DRADIS display, especially the screen that showed the immediate area around the Victorious. The Vipers engaged the incoming Raiders in a deadly dance among the stars. Tracers and missiles streaked through space as they desperately tried to fend off the attackers. Explosions illuminated the void as Vipers and Raiders engaged in a battle to the death. He heard the voices of the pilots through the comms.
"Magician, cover my six! Let's give 'em hell!" Lieutenant Lynsie "Magnet' Medford said.
"I've got your back, Magnet!" Lieutenant Merlin 'Magician' O'Neill replied.
"Let's keep pushing. Give the toasters something to cry about," Major Rockwell 'Rock' Alston, the CAG of the Victorious, said.
The battle raged on, with fiery explosions and thunderous blasts filling the vacuum of space. Both the Victorious and the Cylon Baseship were showing signs of wear and tear. But inside theVictorious, the crew's determination burned brighter.
Graystone spoke into the comms, his voice unwavering. "This is it, people! We've faced worse odds before, and we've always come out on top! Keep fighting!"
The Victorious fired a salvo that struck the Baseship's vulnerable core. The impact from the battlestar's guns along with the missiles from the air wing was enough to trigger a cataclysmic explosion. The colossal vessel shattered into a million fiery pieces, vanishing into the void.
A triumphant cheer echoed through the Victorious as the crew celebrated their hard-fought victory. Graystone allowed himself a smile. He looked over at Cruz and she gave him an appreciative look, once again they could communicate with one another without a word being said between them. He turned his attention to the crew of the CIC and could see the gratitude on his face for the work they had put in.
"We did it, people," he said, his voice filled with pride. "We've won the day."
As the battlestar sailed through the debris of the vanquished Cylon Baseship, Graystone knew that their fight was far from over. However, in that moment, they dealt a blow to the Cylons, and hope flared in his heart. In times like these they needed all the victories they could take, not just for themselves but also for the people who counted on the Colonial Fleet to keep them safe.
Orbit of Aquaria
Warstar Svalin
War Room
The hum of the Svalin's engines reverberated through the massive metal hull as the helm officer attempted to gain a favorable position for its guns to fire. Ramos kept his eyes fixed on the tactical display. He did all he could to keep his face free from worry as he watched the blips representing Cylon Raiders closing in on their position.
"Prepare for evasive maneuvers," he ordered, his voice steady and commanding. " Fire main batteries, lay down a flak screen!"
The warstar's guns unleashed a barrage of missiles and gunfire, striking the Baseship's side. Explosions rippled across the Cylon vessel as it returned fire. As the battle commenced, the roar of gunfire and the explosive bursts of missiles filled the space between the two forces. Viper squadrons engaged Cylon Raiders in a dogfight that twisted and turned like a cosmic ballet. On the Svalin, the crew worked in harmony, responding to Admiral Ramos' every order.
"Sir, we have Heavy Raiders inbound!"
His jaw clenched. He knew that if the Cylons breached their defenses and boarded the Svalin, it would be a death sentence for the ship and everyone on it.
"This is Svalin Actual, we have a boarding party inbound, Vipers are requested," he said into receiver he held in his hands.
"We won't let those frakking machines board your ship!" Stark's voice said through the voice channel.
"You toasters really think you can board us?" he said with the confidence that had followed him.
There was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and it was a line he had probably come a little too close to during the battle. He stood at Command and Control and watched the battle unfold, sweat formed on his brow. He was not a pilot, instead, he had trained as a gunnery officer and considered himself to be one of the best shots among the Colonial Fleet. There was no way he would have gotten the chance to command the Svalin if the Admiralty had not believed he was up to the challenge.
"Ark Royal pilots, follow my lead and take out those Heavy Raiders," she said.
He stared up at the screen and watched as the battlestar's pilots turned to engage the Raiders and Heavy Raiders that were inbound. An influx of fresh artillery fire impacted the Svalin and he could tell that the Cylons had one goal in mind, to take his ship out of the fight.
"This is it, people. Hold the line! We can't let them take us down."
The battle raged on, a chaotic dance of death and destruction among the stars. The Svalin's crew and the Cylons fought with all they had, a conflict born of desperation and the Baseship's systems began to fail under the relentless assault, Ramos realized the tide began to turn in their favor. The Cylon Raiders and Heavy Raiders pulled back, leaving the baseship vulnerable. He saw the opportunity and seized it. This was a moment he was not about to let go to waste, and he realized
"Full power to forward batteries! Finish them off!" he ordered.
If there was a chance to end this battle and finish off the Cylons, now was the time to take it. He knew the orders were to simply try to bloody the noses of the enemy, but he saw a chance to gain a victory and he was ready to take it. All he had to do was roll the dice and pray that the numbers came up in his favor. The Svalin shuddered as it unleashed a last salvo of firepower, tearing through the wounded Baseship's hull. It exploded in a brilliant display of sparks and flames, scattering debris across the battlefield above Aquaria.
"We've done it. We've won."
The warstar Svalin emerged from the battle scarred but victorious. For a moment, Ramos and his crew shared a collective sigh of relief. He knew that their struggle for survival would continue in the against the Cylons, but here and now they had managed to score a victory over their opponents.
"Send the recall order to the task force, I want all air wings landed and all ships back to Amasen," he ordered.
Canceron
City of Pavo, Northern Territoriesw
Ministry of Intelligence Base:
Archangel was not sure how long they had walked, but they finally made their way to a massive hangar door. In his opinion the metal door seemed to loomed like a colossal tombstone, guarding its secrets from prying eyes. He watched as Wallace reached for the rusty lever. With a loud screech, the door shuddered as mechanisms inside started to move but ultimately the door did not budge.
"That was anticlimactic," he said to Wallace.
Wallace did not seem to acknowledge him. Instead, he brushed by him and examined the series of doors that were nearby. He finally pushed one open and propped it so that it would stay in place. He looked over at Melati and Maddox to get a read on their thoughts, but they silently waited for what would happen next.
"Everyone, check this out! I found the control center for the hangar!"
He entered the door and walked up the stairway into a large control room. He spotted Wallace near a massive control panel covered in blinking lights and faded buttons.
"Are you sure you can even get that door to open?"
"What are you suggesting, you ram it with your shoulder and it'll fall down for you?" Wallace asked.
He wanted to have another chance to throttle the Ministry of Intelligence agent, but he wanted to get this mission over with so he could get off of this planet.
"You have the plans for the base, why not try to find another way in?"
"Archangel, you have such little faith," Wallace chided as he pressed a series of buttons.
His attention went to the door as it began to slide open, its movements caused loud echoes throughout the room and he figured it sounded through the entire facility.
"Enough waiting around, let's get what we came for!"
He followed Wallace and the others as they left the stairway and entered the hangar. Before them lay a cavernous hangar, illuminated by its auxiliary lights. The air inside was frigid and carried a metallic tang that reminded him of the workshops on the hangar decks of the battlestars he had served on. A row of aircraft stood in eerie silence, covered by black tarps that had been wrapped around them. Archangel likened them to silent sentinels guarding a long-forgotten treasure trove.
Melati gasped in astonishment. "This...this must be one of the top-secret prototypes. It's like something out of a sci-fi movie!"
"Let's get these babies unwrapped," Archangel said.
The four of them went to work and in minutes they had managed to free the experimental aircraft from their covers. The Vipers had a sleek, futuristic design, and its surface was covered in a strange, shimmering material. Its cockpit canopy was intact, inside the vacant seat was still visible.
"What kind of missions were they planning with this thing?" Maddox asked.
"It's amazing that these machines were so advanced for their time. We could learn a lot from them," Melati said.
Archangel ran his hand along the smooth surface of one Viper. He was more cautious regarding the finds, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Maddox. These things have been sitting here for a reason. We don't even know if they're safe."
"We figured it was only a matter of time before you showed up."
The voices came from the far side of the hangar and the group turned to see who the new arrivals were. Archangel's hand went to his sidearm but Wallace put a hand on his to stop him.
"Relax, they're friendly," he said.
"How would you know that?" Archangel asked with no attempt to hide the accusation in his voice.
"We'll talk about it later," Wallace replied.
"I've got my eye on you," Archangel muttered.
He watched as Wallace turned to walk towards the two men. Both had a military bearing to them, and he wondered what branch they were with and that their stories were. He wondered how long they had been waiting there for them.
"Well, I certainly know how to make an entrance," Wallace said to the two.
Archangel and Melati exchanged a knowing glance. There was something off about this whole affair, and he was not sure what it was. All it did was serve to make him more on guard regarding Wallace and these two men who he appeared to know well.
"We thought we were alone," he said to Melati, "but it seems we've stumbled upon something much bigger."
"We need to keep an eye out with him," she whispered.
He nodded, acknowledging Melati's concern.
Archangel and Melati exchanged wary glances as Wallace engaged in an animated conversation with the two strangers. The hangar, once a silent vault of secrets, now buzzed with tension. Archangel couldn't shake the feeling that the situation was spiraling out of control, and he tightened his grip on his sidearm.
The newcomers, dressed in nondescript black uniforms, had an air of authority about them. Their eyes were sharp, and every movement seemed calculated. Archangel observed their subtle glances at the experimental Vipers, and a sense of unease settled over him. Something wasn't adding up.
Wallace, seemingly unperturbed, gestured toward the uncovered Vipers. "Impressive, aren't they? We've just stumbled upon a goldmine of advanced technology."
Wallace turned and led the two men to the rest of the group, "Allow me to introduce you to two of my men who serve under me. Say hello to Lieutenant Jeremiah 'Lone Wolf' Belcher and Lieutenant Robert 'Dragonfly' Freeman."
"Who are your friends?" Belcher asked.
"You have Major Mark 'Archangel' Hunter, Lieutenant Rachel 'Gold' Maddox, and of course you know Cinta Melati formerly of the Erebea," Wallace said and then he turned to face the new arrivals, "What happened with you two?"
"Our mission went south, and we found ourselves running for our lives. We sought refuge here, hoping to either to find a way out or wait for rescue."
"I'm touched by the reunion, but we need to make sure these Vipers can still fly," Archangel said to Wallace.
"Archangel, shut up," Arthur said, frustrated by the disrespectful attitude from Archangel.
Archangel was about to say something, but Arthur continued, "Regardless, you're right, Archangel. Safety first. Lone Wolf, can you check the systems before we go and start these birds?"
Belcher walked over to the first Viper began to inspect its cockpit, "Sure thing, Arthur. I'll see if there's any power left and if we can access any diagnostic information."
Belcher deftly climbed into the cockpit, his fingers dancing across the controls. Archangel watched him, the tension in the hangar palpable. The silence was broken only by the occasional creak of metal as Belcher worked.
"I'm getting power readings," Belcher called out after a moment. "These birds might just have some life left in them."
Archangel exchanged a cautious glance with Maddox and Melati. The newfound alliance with Wallace and his men felt uneasy, and the mysterious circumstances surrounding their arrival only deepened his suspicions. He decided to keep a close eye on the situation while Belcher continued his assessment.
Meanwhile, Freeman wandered over to the second Viper, running his hand along its shimmering surface. "These designs are years ahead of anything we've seen," he mused. "What kind of experiments were they conducting here?"
Wallace, seemingly preoccupied with the newcomers, didn't offer any answers. Archangel, growing impatient, approached Belcher. "Can you get them airborne?"
Belcher glanced at him with a smirk. "We're not magicians, Archangel, but I'll do my best."
Belcher continued his diagnostic checks, the low hum of the Viper's systems echoing in the vast hangar. Archangel couldn't shake the feeling that they were on the precipice of something much larger than a simple mission to retrieve intel.
As Belcher worked, Wallace joined Archangel, Maddox, and Melati. The tension in the air was thick, and Wallace seemed to sense it. "I understand you're all on edge," he said, his gaze sweeping over the high-tech Vipers. "But these birds might be our ticket out of here. We need to work together if we want to escape this mess."
Archangel remained skeptical, but he nodded. There was a shared understanding that survival outweighed their differences—for now. The uneasy alliance pressed on as Belcher's voice rang out from the cockpit.
"Systems are a bit wonky, but I think we can get them off the ground. Whether they hold up in combat is another story."
Wallace clapped Belcher on the shoulder. "That's all we need. Prep them for takeoff, and we'll rendezvous with our extraction team."
As Belcher continued his preparations, Freeman approached Archangel. "You don't trust us, do you?" he asked, his gaze piercing.
Archangel didn't mince words. "I trust no one who's tied to the Ministry of Intelligence."
Freeman's eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Melati intervened. "Enough bickering. We have a common goal, and that's getting out of here in one piece."
Freeman shot a sharp look at Melati but chose not to argue further when he saw the look from Wallace, and he knew the meaning behind that look. He could not help but smirk, clearly Wallace's line that they would talk about it later felt appropriate. The atmosphere in the hangar became charged with a mix of anticipation and mistrust as the group readied the experimental Vipers for takeoff. Archangel couldn't shake the feeling that they were stepping into the unknown, and he couldn't rely on anyone but himself.
As the hangar echoed with the sounds of pre-flight checks and hurried preparations, Wallace approached Archangel with a stern expression. "Look, Archangel, I know you have your doubts, but we're all in this together now. If you want to survive, you'll have to learn to trust."
Archangel met Wallace's gaze, his jaw clenched. "Trust is earned, not given freely. And you haven't earned it yet."
Wallace nodded, acknowledging the truth in Archangel's words. "Fair enough. But survival is a stronger motivator than trust. Let's focus on getting out of here alive, and we can settle our differences later."
As Wallace into his Viper, his wireless sound, "By your command, Kemosabe…"
"Execute Order One-One-Zero-Seven…" he began, but then he stopped and his gaze settled on Cinta Melati, and he remembered how her body looked after all of their intimate times together, 'I can be a real asshole, sometime,' he thought before cleared the image from his head, "…I repeat execute order One-One-Zero-Seven…"
The words had been said, and the order had been given. His attention turned to Lone Wolf and Dragonfly. They both knew why they were here and what was coming. The atmosphere in the hangar became charged as the group readied the experimental Vipers for takeoff, each member keenly aware that they were stepping into the unknown.
Archangel felt a chill run down his spine as he settled into the cockpit of the experimental Viper. There was an underlying hostility between Wallace's mean and himself, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something ominous had yet to be revealed. The metallic tang in the air intensified as the hangar doors began to creak open, exposing the cold world outside of the Ministry of Intelligence's secrets.
The Viper's systems hummed to life, casting an eerie glow across the cockpit. Archangel exchanged a glance with Melati, her expression mirroring his unease. The experimental technology beneath his fingertips felt like a double-edged sword. Time would prove if this would be a potential savior or a harbinger of doom.
As the hangar doors opened completely, Wallace's voice crackled over the intercom, "Prepare for liftoff. We'll rendezvous with the extraction ship outside we've left the planet. Stay sharp, everyone."
"What about Lacey?" he asked.
He waited for an answer, and he wondered if Wallace was going to leave the young ensign behind along with the Raptor that had brought them to the planet. They had knocked Lacey Tolan unconscious due to a fight between him and Wallace, and he wondered how she was. She would be due an apology at least from him when this mission was over.
"I'll go pilot the Raptor. This Viper seems to have trouble with its electronics suite," Wallace said.
The Viper's engines roared to life, drowning out the echoes of the hangar. Archangel gripped the control stick, his eyes scanning the instrument panel for any signs of malfunction. The air inside the cockpit grew tense as the experimental aircraft lifted off the ground, defying gravity with an otherworldly grace.
The city of Pavo sprawled beneath them, a mosaic of neon lights that still function and tall buildings that had not fallen when the Cylons attacked. Archangel couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. That unseen eyes followed their every move. The city's eerie silence added to the unsettling atmosphere, as if Canceron itself held its breath in anticipation. His DRADIS beeped with the contact of the Raptor that Wallace had just lifted off of the surface in.
"Keep your eyes peeled," Wallace's voice echoed in Archangel's earpiece. "We're not out of the woods yet."
Archangel scanned the horizon, his senses heightened. The Northern Territories stretched out before them, a desolate landscape shrouded in darkness. The occasional flicker of distant lights hinted at hidden dangers, but the specifics remained elusive.
Lone Wolf and Dragonfly flanked the group in their own Vipers, their movements synchronized as if they had rehearsed this mission a thousand times. Archangel couldn't help but wonder about their connection to Wallace and the Ministry of Intelligence. The cryptic nature of their arrival gnawed at him, but there was no time to dwell on suspicions.