Battlestar Galactica: The Rift
Chapter 4. Devil's in the details
Battlestar Galactica, Conference Room; Day 69
The fleet had been hiding within the edge of the outer system belt in the un-named star system which they had jumped to two days earlier. Upon arrival the mining ship Monarch and a squadron of Raptors had set out to survey the field for minerals, water, and other supplies. The Raptors had returned late last night, she supposed the Monarch was still in the belt, mining for ore.
Rebecca paced the room slowly. Ten massive monitors dominated the four bulkheads, which had no other adornments besides a small digital chronometer. The room was set up oddly for a briefing, she thought as she looked around. Eight pairs of folding tables, each with a computer, were arranged in two rows which ran the length of the compartment. There was also a small lectern with another computer stationed in the left front of the compartment.
The rest of the attendees congregated in the corners, chatting in small groups, as they waited for the briefing to begin. The mood of the fleet had improved significantly since their reunification at Kobol, hers included. Rebecca recognized officers from at least fifteen civilian ships in the room. There were just enough people to make her feel crowded. She assumed someone from the military would arrive at some point to tell them what this was all about.
All conversation suddenly stopped, and everyone focused on the dog as the hatch pushed into the room. The President and Commander Adama led a small group of officers, enlisted and civilians into the compartment. An unassuming officer laden with several poster tubes was the last to enter, scurrying quickly as the hatch closed behind her. The civilians, officers, and enlisted made their way to the tables, each taking a seat.
Rebecca waited a moment, immediately recognizing Captain Robinaux. Hoping she could pry information from the officer she turned and headed directly to him. Sitting down next to the pilot, she noticed that his bulky knee brace had been replaced with a smaller more flexible device.
She turned to him, casually observing, "Walking again. You're healing up good."
He nodded at her in greeting, "Yeah, hopefully I'll be cleared for flight duty soon. Good to see you, Captain."
"It's Rebecca to you," she retorted with a smile. "What's this about?" she asked.
"A mission," he answered nonchalantly.
She responded with a scowl.
A moment later, the President was tapping the podium for everyone's attention. She greeted everyone and after calling the meeting to order she introduced Commander Adama.
The Commander approached the podium as if he were stalking prey. Gripping the edges of the lectern he studied the attendees. Satisfied, he began the briefing.
"With the President's permission, I ordered a squadron of Raptors to reconnoiter the remains of a battle from the first Cylon war with the hope of finding needed supplies for our fleet." he began.
Confusion swept through the room. It was no secret that the fleet had been skirting the edge of the Prolmar Sector since the fall. Several captains had begun to question if the search for Earth was real and wondered if the fleet would ever push deeper into the unknown regions.
Still, she thought, any mission to a first war battle would take them back into Oikos Sector, and closer to home. Rebecca looked up as the screen behind the Commander came to life displaying a star chart. Expecting the map to display markers in the Cyrannus system, she didn't immediately recognize the stars and other navigational cues that would have been familiar to her before the attack. She wasn't alone. Moments later she found herself joining the murmurs and calls of surprise as the crowd of experienced captains and officers discerned the location of the Commander's point of interest.
"I sent them to Molecay, in Flare Sector." he announced emotionlessly. "The results are promising. You are here because we need you and your ships to help us salvage as many supplies and raw materials as possible."
Located near the rim ward edge of Cylon territory, Molecay was within easy reach of the Colonies. She estimated that it was about five to six jumps from their current location. Far enough away that if the mission failed the Cylons would have trouble finding the fleet.
"Flare sector is in Cylon space!" someone called out.
The Commander fixed the person with a stoic expression. "Yes, the Fifth Fleet was destroyed there early in the war, and then forgotten. DRADIS returns, telemetry and spectral-physical analysis suggests that we should be able to get many needed materials."
Rebecca thought over the idea, and although she wasn't thrilled with the idea of flying into Cylon territory, the plan was sound, if the area had truly been forgotten. If the survey from the earlier Raptor squadron was accurate, there should be a lot of salvageable materials they could use, maybe even a few ships they could bring back. If they were lucky.
The other two screens came to life. The screen on the left offered a list of ships and the planet-based warehouses with their specifications and potential resources for the fleet. The screen on the right displayed a more detailed rendering of the area they would be surveying.
Adama gave everyone a minute to look over the displays before continuing. "The Molecay mining and processing facility was established approximately thirty years before the first Cylon war. It consisted of several planet side installations, warehouses and a large orbital transfer station. In addition to helium and argon, it also produced several rare metals including titanium, nickel, platinum, boron, cadmium, graphite, and molybdenum. Our primary focus will be on the warehouses, the transport ships, and the warships. Unfortunately, the mines and the orbital station were destroyed during the battle."
"The station was captured by the Cylons within the first year of the war. The admiralty sent the Fifth Fleet to recapture the facility in the second year. It was hoped that by taking the Molecay mines that we would starve the Cylons of critical resources and bring a swift end to the conflict. Unfortunately, we underestimated the Cylon forces defending the station. Led by the Artemis class Battlestar Pegasus, the Fifth Fleet consisted mostly of pre-unification warships. Despite a spirited effort, they were outmatched by newer and previously unknown warships. Although we did not capture the facility, the damage to the facilities was severe enough to make them unusable by the Cylons and was abandoned after the battle.
He waited as the audience matched his words to the screens behind him. With their attention returned, he began again. "Lieutenant Finnegan," he paused to indicate one of the officers that accompanied him, "was the lead pilot in the survey mission. He is here to brief you on the condition of the ships we hope to salvage and to help you all get a feel for the area you will be jumping into. Lieutenant," he called to the pilot as he moved away from the podium.
A young officer, Rebecca guessed that he was in his early to mid-twenties, approached the podium. The screen to his left changed to a video of the debris taken by his Raptor. "As you can see the debris field orbits the planet. It is compact and dense in some places. However, with a few exceptions, the wrecks are spaced far enough apart that all of your ships should be able to access the entire field. Take extra care near the Pegasus and the Yrsa Nord, that's the Minotaur class gunship, they both left a lot of debris from explosions and violent decompressions. Other things to be on the lookout for include debris from Raptors, Vipers, Sweepers, and Cylon Raiders. Additionally, there are also a number of Cylon capital ships that we may be able to exploit as well."
Rebecca focused on the map of the debris field as the pilot described the course they would take and detailed additional hazards that they would face. She paid particular attention to a nasty radiation field left by the shredded reactor from one or more of the ships.
"How much radiation will we be exposed to and for how long? Also, what kind of protection can you offer?" asked Captain Takis, who commanded a Gemenon Class transport. "Our ships don't have shielding to protect us like your military boats do," she added sternly.
The Lieutenant quickly focused the screen on the area in question. "First, all personnel surveying the debris field will be given anti-radiation shots before we depart, and everyone will be issued radiation monitors. The large freighters and container ships will remain outside of the debris zone, anyone who shows any sign of exposure should be taken to one of those ships. We have additional anti-rad medicine available for any unexpected exposures. Most importantly, however, almost all of the hard radiation is localized to the Pegasus and the Yrsa Nord, which were both so heavily damaged that we will be avoiding that area completely. The only exception is the Pegasus's starboard flight pod, which was ripped from the primary hull during the battle. That flight pod has drifted to the far edge of this localized area and the radiation levels are much lower than the primary hulls of these two ships. As a further precaution, Raptor crews from Galactica with radiation suits will survey the Pegasus's flight pod."
A notable sense of relief rippled through the civilian crews, in contrast to the quiet grumbling from the Raptor crews that would be entering the edge of the radiation zone.
The rest of his presentation didn't take long, and within a few minutes the pilot had ceded the podium back to the Commander.
"Thank you, Lieutenant." he said as he nodded to the pilot. "The next part of this briefing will be conducted by Captain Derek Robinaux. He is temporarily being assigned to the Argentum Bay and will be in overall command of this mission," he stated as he nodded towards the officer sitting near the back of the room.
Rebecca's head snapped to attention at the mention of her friend's name. "Kólos" she muttered, just loud enough for Derek to hear. She tried not to react at his mirthful smile, but she couldn't help but to feel her eyes hardening as she watched Derek stand up next to her and head to the front of the compartment.
Rebecca studied Derek carefully, she needed to gauge his tenor, to make certain that he didn't come across as arrogant or worse, Caprican. 'A mission indeed', she thought, remembering his sarcastic response earlier. It was good that she was here she reflected, if needed she could smooth any frayed wires, or yank his ass back in line.
Rebecca looked over the audience of civilian officers in the room, trying to gauge their reaction to the mission. She scanned the room slowly, subtly, making sure to not be noticed. Ship crews were like families before the fall, now they were even closer. To the left sat the officers of the Carina, a fleet tender; next to them the Captain from the Kimba Hutta; and then to the center, Abel Persea and the engineer Brona Vaerge from the Argentum Bay. She paused for a moment, that was Meirer's ship, a ship with no Captain. Missing too, was Meirer's loyal side kick and Chief-Mate Duncan Thorhild. Her mind scrambled, it was the perfect ship to lead this mission. Those old Wedge ships were tough, fast, and they had a flight pod. The fleet had two of them, the Adriatic and the Argentum Bay, the latter devoid of a command crew. The Commander was going to commandeer it.
Placing a military officer in command of the Argentum Bay was risky so soon after the killing of Captain Meier. It was a message too, and not a subtle one. Adama wanted to make sure that Roslin's faction understood that he was still in charge. Derek was Adama's messenger, and history had shown what could happen to unpopular messengers. Rebecca didn't envy his assignment, but she didn't feel sorry for him either. Rebecca had been taught since she was a little girl that pity was a useless emotion.
In her mind she heard her mother lecturing her and her brother, 'You deal with the here and now and the consequences of your actions. Wallowing in the past, pointless. Move forward, always forward.'
Rebecca hoped Derek understood the pitfalls, and potential dangers she faced. The crew held Adama responsible for the killing of their Captain, and he was now guilty by association. He would be regarded with suspicion and hostility. He had to understand that the crew would neither accept nor respect him. He was a burden that they had to carry and would only do so if they could bear him. She hoped he recognized this, because if he didn't and he stumbled, she wasn't sure she'd be able to save him.
Rebecca tried to think of Derek as 'The Captain' and not as her friend. She watched his demeanor, his mannerisms, his posture. He looked confident and she was certain that he had planned the mission with care; but Rebecca didn't think preparedness would be enough. The crew was in shock, many were angry, and Adama was providing them with a figurehead to focus their discontent on. At least it wasn't Adama's son that was in command. Despite siding with Roslin's supporters, his parentage may have been too personal of a target for someone with a score to settle.
Rebecca knew some of the crew and made a note to speak to them. To make sure that they would watch over him. The last thing the fleet needed now was another assassination.
Derek settled behind the podium and thanked the Commander as he looked over the room. He quickly got to his presentation, the screens behind him changing as he gave a quick summary of their mission. He explained that the mission would focus on salvaging materials for the defense of the fleet. Armor plating, cannons, ammunition, missiles, wiring, spare parts, DRADIS arrays, computers, aircraft, even uniforms were to be stripped from the hulks of the derelict ships orbiting the planet.
The salvage fleet would be divided into three groups, each with a different role. Looking at the number and condition of derelict vessels and the planet side facilities, Rebecca determined they would not have time to search everything. She assumed that the initial Raptor survey must have been far more thorough than she had initially thought. Dividing the fleet this way seemed to make sense to Rebecca, sending ships to targeted vessels with known resources.
The first group would be responsible for extracting materials from the wrecks orbiting the planet. These abandoned ships were to be the main thrust of the mission and utilized nearly three quarters of their fleet. The ships selected for this objective included smaller transports and industrial vehicles, like welding, cutting pods, and grapplers. To Rebecca's surprise this group also included the much larger Adriatic and Argentum Bay. These two ships, nearly mirror images of each other, had originally been designed as a military escort carrier, were nearly a third of the size of the Galactica. Navigating the debris field with those ships was borderline reckless in her mind, and she thanked Zeus that that task hadn't been foisted on her.
Rebecca refocused on the briefing as the officer began detailing the position and types of ships in orbit. The intel wasn't as specific as she had hoped for. Vessels seemed to have been grouped by class and ease of access over confirmed materials present. She nearly cursed when Derek stated that 'One of the purposes of this meeting was for the assembled to study the data collected and to determine which ships offered the best chance of salvaged materials.' The whole mission began to smell of desperation to her.
In place of the wrecked Battlestar Pegasus, the captain focused on the two relatively intact Brimir class carriers. These ships, developed decades before the Battlestars, were obsolete long before the Cylons rebelled against their masters. Built around a central landing deck, they were lightly armed and slow. The few that survived the first three years of the war were quickly replaced by their larger and more powerful descendants. Grappler and other pilots capable of towing were instructed to focus on any small craft, especially Vipers, Raptors, Sweepers, and even Raiders; as parts from these craft could be cannibalized for use with Galactica's air wing.
The second group, which included most of the Raptors and other atmospheric capable vessels would focus on the planet sized warehouses. The initial survey determined that actual mining sites were far too damaged to access safely. It was hoped that through a detailed look at the survey that some of the warehouses could be identified as likely targets for salvage. Upon arrival these ships would swoop to the assigned warehouses where they would fill their holds with as much raw materials as possible.
The third group, which included Rebecca's ship, was comprised of the large container ships and freighters. They would wait in orbit, near the debris cloud and transfer materials from the smaller transports into their holds. Their biggest risk was being discovered by the Cylons. Sitting outside the field, these ships would have the greatest exposure from the enemy. The small squad of patrolling Vipers would provide token protection at best, and it would be a race for these ships to jump to safety.
Wanting to check the status of the holds in her ship Rebecca pulled a tablet out of her bag. She had downloaded the ship's manifest before shuttling over to the Galactica and quickly opened the files she needed. Even after three months, she still found the "new" specifications of her ship jarring.
Rebecca thought back to the first few chaotic weeks after the fall. The few survivors had faced constant attacks from the Cylons, few supplies, a devastated leadership, and little to no hope or direction. Somehow, they were able to organize themselves as they made their escape. She marveled that they had survived at all. With so many of the vessels that survived the fall of the Colonies grossly overcrowded, one of the first priorities of the new President and her administration was to find berthing for the 63,000 plus survivors in the fleet. To help with the burden, the six dorsal cargo sections of her ship had been converted to crude barracks. During the conversion, those holds, filled with valuable petroleum and other industrial goods from Aerilon, had been transferred and added to the supplies already stowed away in the six ventral holds of the ship.
As she reviewed the manifest, it was clear that with some effort the existing cargo could be consolidated into two or three compartments, freeing up at least half of the ship's stores for salvage materials. The relief she felt knowing that they had room to make their trip would be worth the effort was quickly replaced with the realization of how quickly the fleet had burned through the supplies that they had started with. She took a moment to silently marshal her spirits, as she recognized that this opportunity only served to prove that the fleet had the strength and determination to continue and to survive.
The tension in the room tightened as Derek noted the scans and computer on each table and instructed them to use the data to select the ships that were best suited for salvage in the debris field. A few, mostly from Argentum Bay, hesitated, silently questioning his authority.
Rebecca waited a moment too, she joined Abel Persea, Argentum Bay's Second Mate at nearby table. Standing next to him, she caught Derek's eye and signaled for him to join them.
"Hey Rebecca," he said easily as he approached.
"Over here," she said, pointing to the space between her and Able. She watched as Able tensed up, anticipating a set-up. "Abel" she said brightly. "This is Derek, one of the few tolerable Viper pilots I've ever met."
"Derek Robinaux," the tall pilot offered in greeting. He extended his hand and tried to ignore the stern expression and crushing grip from the powerfully built bald man.
The man grunted in response, his hard eyes telegraphing his antipathy towards the uniform. "Thank you for your service," he said tersely.
Derek nodded in response. He turned back to Rebecca, hoping she had a plan.
Rebecca hesitated a moment, "Abel here is the second officer on,"
"Acting Chief Mate," he corrected her. He fixed his gaze on Derek, "Actin' Chief Mate Abel Persea of the Argentum Bay, at your service." he practically spat out.
"Oh, congrats," she started. "I didn't know you'd been promoted," she offered cautiously.
"Yeah, thanks. Captain murdered, Chief Mate transferred, no big deal," he replied darkly. He turned to Derek with daggers shooting out of his eyes. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would'ya, Captain?"
Derek looked down silently at the man for a moment. "I'm afraid that's above my paygrade," he answered in as neutral of a tone as he could.
The civilian officer kept his focus on Derek. "So, I guess you're my new Captain, eh?"
"Just catching a ride, that's all. As soon as this mission is over, I'll be back to Galactica." he stated quietly.
Abel paused at this, as if he were considering his response. "And what role would that be? Judging by the way you're limping, you're not hot-footin' in a Viper right now."
Derek hated being goaded by smug pricks. Still, Rebecca had called him over as an olive branch, so he figured it was best to play the part. He took a beat to appear unfazed by the officer's rudeness. "No, Cylon clipped me a little while back."
With an exaggerated sigh, Able broke contact with Derek and looked down at the deck for the briefest moment. He swung his head back towards the pilot and with a sarcastic grin, stated, "Well, don't worry Captain, we're all one big family here, I'm sure we'll all get along just fine. I know the crew will be happy you folks from the Galactica are coming to keep us in line."
Rebecca winced as she watched Derek square his shoulders and stare-down the insolent civilian. She expected Derek to walk away, but instead he turned to the printouts and computer screens on the table. Rebecca turned to Abel and watched him whither under her glare. She held him under her gaze for an awkward moment or two before turning to study the data on the table.
The three joined the other captains, engineers, and navigators who were all poring over high resolution images, telemetry, radiation, and electromagnetic scans of Pegasus's severed flight pod.
Derek was the first to notice that the fuel and magazine pressure seals were intact. Realizing that a few of the civilians were unfamiliar with those devices. He explained that the seals were designed to open in case of fires to prevent internal explosions. The fact that they were still intact showed that neither the magazines nor fuel stores had been compromised.
Abel, focused on the mass readings and telemetry scans, barely grunted in response to Derek's observations.
"What 'cha got there?" the engineer next to Abel asked, noticing his concentration.
Abel looked up from the table to find the rest of the group looking down at him.
"The mass and telemetry are off. Look how the flight pod is oriented compared to the primary hull." He passed the scans to the engineer next to him. "It's unbalanced, which is affecting it's drift."
The engineer studied the scans intensely. He quickly grabbed a sheet of paper and began furiously scribbling equations on it.
"Oh, look!" he said excitedly pointing to the scan. "Right here, someone adjusted it's yaw and pitch, but they couldn't get it righted."
It looked like gibberish to Derek, but he noticed that most of the group, Abel included, were nodding in excited agreement.
"Could someone explain this to a pilot, please?" he asked sardonically.
Abel of all people chuckled at that. "It means that someone lived long enough to try and fix the flight pod's attitude."
The rest of the team nodded in agreement. In other words, Derek realized, this was more evidence that the flight pod may still hold resources that they could get to. Feeling confident about their prospects, the team quickly refocused on their task.
The stewards had long since collected their finished dinners and the group was finally finishing up their work for the night. Rebecca tried in vain to massage the dull ache in her neck. She felt good about their progress. Thanks to the data collected by the Raptor survey, they now had a salvage plan that was both thorough and reasonably safe.
Rebecca tried to relax as she watched her ship, the Bill Thurston-12, grow through the canopy as they made their approach. They'd done enough tonight, and now she just needed to sleep. Tomorrow they would begin preparations. The cargo would be consolidated into the two forward holds. The most important cargo, petroleum products and steel blanks would be redistributed throughout the fleet, this way, if the mission failed and her ship was destroyed, they wouldn't lose these necessary resources. The same went for a third of her civilian residents. The day after, they would leave for Molecay and if all went well, three days after that they would return with full holds.
Argentum Bay, Hangar Bay; Day 70, Mid-Watch
Derek waited silently for the hatch on the Raptor to swing open. The officers and crew transferring to the civilian ship hadn't had time to talk during the short transit from Galactica. Judging from their tense body language they seemed to share his unease for their upcoming assignment. His introduction to the Chief Mate, Abel Persea, hadn't gone well. He was more than a bit concerned about how he and the other military personnel would be treated by the crew. Still, he was glad that Rebecca was with them. Hopefully she could bridge the distrust that the civilians had for the military, at least for this mission.
A moment later the large door swung upward. Derek waited as the others, led by Rebecca, made their way to the hatch. He followed them with his crutches tucked under his arms and carefully hopped off the small wing and into the expansive hangar. Standing along the bulkhead nearest the hatch, Chief Mate Abel Persea and a second crew member that he didn't know waited silently for the group of Colonial personnel arriving from the Galactica.
Abel stood rooted to the deck, his emotions simmering as he watched the crew from Galactica exit the Raptor. He felt his resentment build as they made their way through the hangar. The military took what they wanted. They wanted his ship, so they killed his captain and locked the chief mate up for sedition. He looked down at his feet, refusing to look at the new commanding officer, a Captain from the Galactica, appointed by Commander Adama himself.
Abel centered himself and focused on Rebecca. He didn't know her well; they had only met after the escape from the Cylons. Tom Zarek trusted her though, he had told him to follow her lead. He didn't trust Tom Zarek either. But Meirer had; he'd given his life for the man. That meant something, it meant a lot actually.
Tom had also told him to let his anger go, to let the military do as they pleased, to take over Meirer's ship. Tom had effectively told Abel to become one of the sheep. He had never been one to back down, but he knew that this time he must. Tom had told him that too.
"Ho, Rebecca" he called brusquely as the freighter captain approached.
"Abel," she responded confidently. "You and your crew ready for this?" she asked cautiously.
"Don't ha' much a choice, do we?" he answered definitively.
"Nope; but it's important." she stated plainly.
It was important, he silently admitted. The fleet was starved for resources. If they failed, the fleet would soon be unable to defend themselves. He would play nice, but he would watch their guests. Abel had told the crew to watch as well. If the crew from the Galactica got out of line, he would act.
Derek watched as Abel turned his attention to the newcomers. His expression was one of muted hostility and challenge as their eyes met. The two groups stared silently at each other for a moment.
"Mr. Persea, thank you for having us," Derek stated professionally, extending his hand as he reintroduced himself.
"Captain," he replied caustically, reluctantly taking Derek's proffered hand.
Derek waited for the Chief Mate to acknowledge the crew from the Galactica. "This is Abel Persea, Chief Mate, and our host. He, Captain Davenport, and I were on the team that did the analysis of Pegasus's flight pod. He will lead a briefing on ship operations and introduce us to the command crew."
Abel looked at the Galactica crew, all of whom were uncomfortably waiting. "If y'all follow Mr. Jackson," he paused to indicate the young man standing next to him, "he will take your to bunks and show you to the galley. It's just down the corridor from your berthing area. I suggest y'all get something to eat before we meet." He returned his attention to Derek, "I have the conference room on Deck 12 set up for 13:30. I'll have Mr. Jackson meet ya' in the mess at 13:15."
"Thank you, Chief," Derek replied in a tone that he hoped seemed positive without pandering.
Abel barely grunted in response.
"Rebecca, why don't you come with me?" he asked casually, motioning towards her.
Derek watched as the pair turned away and made their way into the ship without a word.
Argentum Bay, Deck 12 Conference Room
Derek found most of the ship's officers and non-coms already sitting at the table when they arrived at the surprisingly elegant conference room. The crew from Galactica made their way to the end of the table and quickly sat down, while Derek headed to the corner where Rebecca and Abel were quietly chatting.
"Did ya' get some ta eat, Captain?" the surly officer asked as he approached.
"Yes, thank you." Derek answered easily.
"Not as good as your 'customed too, I expect, but it's what we have."
"It's fine, and no worse than the chow on the 'Old Girl'," referring to the obsolete Battlestar. "This room sure is nice," Derek commented, making a show of looking over the compartment.
"Tha' it is" the Chief Mate conceded. "Management used it for fat-cats, seemed appropriate considerin'." He paused a moment, "Now, why don't we get this meeting on with."
Derek and Abel made their way to the front of the room, while Rebecca joined the rest of the attendees at the main table.
Abel spoke first, coolly welcoming the military personnel aboard the ship before turning the meeting over to Derek.
Derek acknowledged Argentum Bay's command staff and thanked them for hosting himself and his colleagues.
"With me for this mission, Captain Ayana Williams, who will be the Air Traffic Control officer, Engineering Supervisor Captain John Belostoma; Small Craft Maintenance Supervisor, Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol; Computer Specialist Dr. Gene Wilker, and Flight Leader, Lieutenant Lou-Anne Katrain, call-sign "Kat". I believe that there will be a reception later where you can meet the rest of Galactica's crew that have transferred aboard."
He took a few minutes reviewing the mission goals and parameters and briefly opened the discussion to questions. With that completed, he decided to address the elephant lurking in the corner.
"I know the events of the last few weeks have been difficult, most especially for the crew of this ship. You have lost a Captain, your executive officer, and undoubtedly your faith in the military." He paused, quietly gauging the tenor in the room.
"Know this, I command this mission, not the ship. Mr. Persea is this ship's master, and his word aboard is law. I cannot control what has happened in the past. What I will do is to oversee this mission to the best of my ability and treat everyone with fairness and respect." He looked over the group, the chief engineer nodding at him in acknowledgment. A sense of tolerance radiated from some of Argentum Bay's crew.
"Mr. Persea, if you would be so kind as to explain the house rules and your expectations for us."
Derek stepped aside and quickly found a seat as the ship's Chief Mate took the podium. Abel seemed surprised by Derek's presentation. The newly minted 'Ship's Master' gave a quick summary of the rules expected of the crew, he introduced the Argentum Bay's department heads, and highlighted areas of the ship that would be either of interest or areas to avoid to his guests. He didn't speak long and dismissed the attendees within an hour.
The rest of the night was a blur, Derek was exhausted. He felt like a dog that had been trying and failing to catch its tail. He had met with Abel and Rebecca, then with the command crew. Later he had met with the load master and his staff and then the pilots, first those who would be ferrying crew and materials to the wrecks and back, then with the Viper pilots who would be defending the fleet. At some point he had found five minutes to scarf down a little bit of supper. Then he was at it again teleconferencing with the Commander and the President. Finally, one last meeting, this one with the captains of every ship in his fleet, the President and Commander had joined that one as well. Lying on his bunk, he closed his eyes and relished the blissfully simple life as a pilot. Moments later, he was asleep.
End Chapter 4
Fifth Fleet Roster
4 Scythe Class Escorts
2 Brimir Class Carriers
2 Orion Class Pocket Battlestars
1 Gungnir Class Assault Ship
2 Minotaur Class Gunship
4 Oiler/Maintenance Supply Ship
2 Overlord Class Troop Carriers
1 squadron of Colonial Sweepers
8 squadrons of Mk. 2 Vipers from 5th Fleet
2 squadrons Mk. 2 Vipers from mining facility.
2 squadrons of Raptors (Pegasus)
0.5 squad Raptors from each Brimir.
* Ship classes taken from Battlestar Galactica Online Game and Battlestar Galactica Deadlock Game