Responses to Earlier Comments:
Too funny, Blaze. Right? A head on a pike goes so much further than just a pike. I think Vlad the Impaler was quoted on that one. :)
Chronos1326 - Thanks Chronos, per usual!
War Sage - You keep me honest. I added in a little extra so that "Kobol Separatists" wasn't such an out-of-nowhere statement.
***Other comments are always welcome. Please leave a review.***
Disclaimer: Please note: I own no part or share in the Battlestar Galactica realm, either commercial or otherwise. This story is submitted for entertainment purposes only.
Reminder: I did not spend time making up non-earth names for BSG things - Pianos, the game of horseshoes, etc. They are in there as is. I wanted to avoid introducing new terms, explaining them, and potentially causing confusion if/when they are used later without their explanations.
Chapter 23
Didn't See That Coming
"To'effa'd nil'nek. To'effa'd ne'epta ku', in the old Geminise. Today was a tough day. Today sucked."
~Cru's journal, if he had time to keep one.
Previously on Bree's Twin:
- Cru was distracted. On a smaller matter but also taxing was the scrappy woman with the knife. She was still among the residents. Cru recognized her as the woman who beat on Evvie back aboard the Pyxis.
- "Major," said Adama getting to the point. "I shared your report of the confrontation, with the President. She and I have spoken and we agreed to put armed marines on your ship."
- T-Dog had included the Census-taker Cru had spoken to, back at Ragnorak. He was now a member of the crew, serving as "Cruise Director".
Bree's Twin
Day 136, Early Afternoon
"Stand," ordered Cru. It was not a request. Folly was the one, he or she or they - who thought otherwise.
Cru had John on his right. Both men were armed. Evvie was on Cru's left. Two armed Marines stood behind at a short distance.
Evvie trembled in silent control as she looked upon the young woman before them. She wished she had Cru's hunting knife. She was mighty when it was in her hands. She was mighty when she lashed out and killed with it.
Evvie's memory flashed back to the cruiseliner, Pyxis. The scrappy young woman had pinned Evvie's arms down, hauled her head back by the hair, and hit her over and over until darkness and oblivion, in her mind, prevailed. The scrappy young woman's name was Liddy Pearlman. She had thrown Evvie down to the deck and beat her unconscious.
Liddy stood. She drew herself up rigid, with legs together and her arms fidgeting at her side. She had recognized Evvie and Cru. She had recognized them both on the first day aboard Bree's Twin. Her eyes were downcast. "Please don't do this," she said in a small voice. "I can't go back there."
"Are you the one?" asked Cru. He knew the answer. The question was pointless. Her dirty blonde hair, her pointed chin, and her tattoos marked the woman like a beacon. "Are you the one who hit this woman next to me?"
"I am," said Liddy. Fear washed over her like a sweeping tide. "I am so sorry-"
"Don't!" growled. Cru. "Look at me."
Liddy lifted her eyes enough to look into Cru's. Her heart sunk low in her chest.
"She was unconscious and you continued to beat her?" Cru gestured to Evvie. His voice was menacing as he spoke. It was dark. It was lethal. "Do you remember this?"
Liddy's eyes tracked slowly from Cru's to Evvie's. Tears welled up but they would mean nothing - not to the people before her. Liddy's knuckles were scarred. She hit Evvie hard enough to split them open and mix blood.
"I do," said Liddy with a quivering voice. She dropped to her knees before Evvie and reached out, but Evvie drew back.
The movement drew a reaction. Cru turned his hip away from Liddy and half drew the military service .38 pistol holstered there - for all he knew, Liddy still had the knife. John followed Cru's lead and took a step back out of reach. Two subtle clicks blended into the background din of workers, machinery, and the hiss of air handlers. The Marines had taken their rifles off 'safety'.
"I'm so sorry." Liddy's voice fluttered as despair closed in. "Please don't fear me. Please don't pull away…" she reached again but Cru grabbed the closest arm and bent it upward.
"Grab whatever shit you came here with," said Cru. "You're leaving."
"Please don't send me back," Liddy quaked. Her eyes sought Cru's but found nothing but venom.
Liddy changed then, as if by a switch. Sobs broke out. She turned back to Evvie. Her voice was like a lost child's.
"Please don't do this, sweet lady" Liddy begged. "Please, I protected you. They were bad people and I protected you."
Days earlier, a small number of enforcer-like men and women had been sent to "encourage" Evvie into shady business dealings. They thought they had caught Evvie alone, but Liddy surprised them and intervened. Cru arrived shortly after. The confrontation ended but Cru recognized Liddy from when they were attacked aboard the Pyxis.
"Liddy did this," the young woman continued. "Liddy did this for you." She reached out again with the arm that Cru did not hold.
Evvie looked at Cru and back down at Liddy. Evvie was older than Liddy by four or five years, but also, the malnutrition had reduced the once-formidable young woman before her, to little more than skin and frame.
"What happened to you, child?" asked Evvie. It was the only thing she could think to say. She held her hands away from Liddy but her heart softened.
"Liddy's not a monster," said Liddy with a choking voice. "Liddy has no friends. It's not safe without friends."
Evvie reached out, then. She touched Liddy's fingertips with hers and held them there.
"Please," whispered Liddy as the sobs continued. She gently took hold of Evvie's hand with hers. She leaned forward until her face touched the back of it. "Please don't send Liddy back. Please don't…".
Evvie looked at Cru. Cru was angry - he didn't give up emotions that easily, but he shrugged and released Liddy's other arm.
"She's broken," said John under his voice.
"She's fracked," added Cru.
Evvie nodded her agreement to both. "I want to keep her," said Evvie. "We have room if you will allow it."
"I'm not one for giving second chances, either in someone redeeming themselves or having another go at you or anyone else aboard."
"Understood, Captain," said Evvie. "Please?"
Cru gave the marines a nod to 'stand down', but stay close.
~~~~~/~~~~~
Bree's Twin
Day 138, Middle Evening
"Not another redhead," said Cru with a light smile.
"Richard, hush," said Evvie in a low but insistent voice. She smacked Cru on the arm.
Evvie was a redhead and so was a young woman in the center of gathering people.
Earlier that morning, Tanner was building a water and potting station in the gardens. Jebber Doogan and his daughter were turning the soil nearby. Doogan's daughter was named Esrenladiel but "Essa" was the name most people used. She had a long mop of curly hair, freckles, and blue eyes. She sang quietly while she toiled away. She stopped periodically to pull away the mass of hair when it fell in front of her face. Her voice was clear and true like the ringing of a silver bell. Her songs were slow and sad and they were of grief for the many lost. Jebber lost his wife, Essa's mother. The two lost everyone they had ever known, which was not unlike all others aboard. Essa tried a livelier tune at her father's request, but her heart wasn't in it, and in truth, neither was her father's. Indeed, those who listened quietly, Tanner included, were of the same mind. They all needed to grieve. They needed to remember and acknowledge the loss. Essa gave them a reason to pause. Essa's beautiful voice called forth tears, but they were good. It was necessary.
Tanner asked the young woman if she would sing for others that evening, and she agreed. Kevin, the new "Cruise Director" set up an assembly, a community gathering, with great enthusiasm.
Cru, Evvie, Evvie's children, and Tanner sat together in an open space within the commons area of Storage Bay Three. Scrappy Liddy was not far. She would not leave Evvie.
Cru had given his intention to attend from the onset. Kevin went above and beyond to provide chairs, a small table, and water for the Captain and his crewmembers. John could not be there. He stood the bridge duty with Devina Tibbets, the new co-pilot. Tibbits was the old tanker captain T-Dog had found for Cru. She was pairing up with John on his rotations, while she learned the ship. They were the only ones not in attendance.
"Captain," said Kevin as he crouched next to Cru's chair. "Don't say 'No' until you hear me out, okay?"
Cru rumpled his face. "How long will it take to hear you out?" he said without looking. Kevin was building a reputation for taking the long route when making a point.
Kevin gave a smile. "Right, sir. All business. Get to the point. I know it's important…to…"
Cru turned his head and focused on Kevin. Evvie leaned forward enough to see Kevin as well.
"Right," repeated Kevin. "To the point. Captain, I found a concert pianist."
Cru gave a curious look. He knew Kevin was going to ask to bring others aboard. He and Evvie already had several dozen similar requests.
"Kevin, does this person have something else we can use? We are settling in the skillsets we've already brought aboard. It may be a while before we determine any gaps."
Kevin switched to Evvie. "Mrs. Hawkins, I know where we can get an upright piano - it's pushed off to the side and collecting dust. You could…"
"Kevin, you want to bring on a pianist and a piano?" asked Cru.
Kevin waved his hands to stop Cru from saying more.
"Captain, just think about it. Please tell me you'll give it fair consideration. Music can do things that all your electrical, mechanical…people can't."
Cru opened his mouth to speak. His face gave away his intent.
"Sorry Captain," interrupted Kevin, "I have to introduce the star. You will love her. She is an angel."
Kevin was off to the gathering's center before Cru could speak. Instead, Cru turned to Evvie. "Did you put him up to that?" he said.
"Nope," said Evvie, "but I think that fellow has a scheme in the works."
"Yeah, me too. On a related note, is 'pianist really pronounced like, 'Pee-a-nist'? I think our dear 'Cultured Kevin' was mispronouncing it."
Evvie smiled. "It is, and, true story, 'flutist' is pronounced, 'Flout-ist' if you are curious."
Cru shook his head. "Yeah, we need a Pee-a-nist and a Flout-ist like we need raging dysentery."
Evvie smiled. Tanner coughed into his hand, to hide a smile.
Kevin called for everyone's attention and after the murmuring ended, Essa lifted her voice up in song. It resonated in the great room like an ancient cathedral. Her first song was of two lovers and a remembrance of the final kiss they shared on a beach, just as a storm blew in.
(Please note, this was an attempt at free verse when three nights of stringing together metered rhyme produced nothing useable. Admittedly, I turned to AI and had this in about 30 minutes. I'll need to leave that business to the poets.)
Near the sea, on the land, near the water on sand,
With steps in the sand, they meet hand in hand.
Wind and rain join love, near the water's embrace,
Steps in the sand by the cold water's grace.
~/~
With hearts and hands, their souls intertwine,
By the water, he kissed her, love's treasure divine.
Love was a kiss by the deep, rolling blue,
Love and a kiss, two hearts ever true.
~/~
The kiss marked the end, a moment to dwell,
Their final goodbye near the sea's lulling spell.
The kiss was their last in this gentle place,
Alone she will wait for his warm love's embrace.
~/~
No one spoke as young Essa weaved her way through four additional verses. The final verse was in the Old Geminese, perfect for the somber tone. She sang two more songs and a portion of a third before she broke into tears and could sing no more. The final song was part of a funeral dirge for loved ones lost.
"So say we all," said Cru under his breath.
"So say we all," said Evvie and her children and Tanner and all the others around them.
After a long pause shared by all, Evvie spoke in a soft voice, only to Cru. "Should I check on that piano?"
Cru nodded. "Please do."
~~~~~/~~~~~
Galactica
Day 140, Very Early Morning
"Set Condition Two across the fleet," said Cru.
"Sir, do we want to do that?" said Lieutenant Palmer. "We're sending the patrol to check it out. We'll know in a couple of minutes. I bet it's nothing."
"Careful, Lieutenant," said Cru with a smile. "That's the kind of thing someone says just before all hell breaks loose."
Palmer laughed. "Right, just like in the horror movies when someone says, 'what do you think got into that cat?'."
Cru smiled again. "Right, just like in the horror movies." Cru gave a chuckle. "And anyway, if I can't sleep, nobody gets to."
Palmer nodded. "Understood, sir. I'll call out Condition Two across the fleet."
"Thanks, Lieutenant. You and Ensign Becker and anyone else you need, please work together to confirm acknowledgment from all ships - make sure nobody is sleeping. Make sure FTLs are warm. Notify the Commander and Ex-O we've had a DRADIS anomaly at long range. The viper patrol has been sent to reconnoiter." Cru turned and gave a nod to Becker.
"Yes, sir," said Palmer and Becker in response.
Moments before, there was a flickering blip on the DRADIS labeled "unknown". The distance was great and the DRADIS could not get a good lock. The equipment was old and false readings were not uncommon. Still, everything had to be checked. Everything needed to be treated as an impending attack. Nothing could be left to chance. Ever.
"Have the gun crews check in," added Cru. "Let me know when they are complete. Same with the fly-peeps. Launch the alert fighters for now and have Captain Adama get the rest of his people frosty."
"Yes, Major," said Palmer.
Cru was serving as Senior Officer of the Watch in the CIC. Lieutenant Palmer was second in command while the more senior ranking officers slept. It was the early hours of the morning. Cru's shift had been uneventful. They watched a maintenance rig get underway and begin some hull work on the Adriatic. The Astral Queen was dumping their garbage again, which would need to be reported. One of Galactica's launch tubes was down for maintenance owing to a pressure leak. It was a big ship. It happened at times.
"Galactica! Galactica! We are under attack!" shouted Hotdog. He was piloting one of the patrol vipers. "One base star launching raiders!"
"Palmer, call for action stations - Condition One", ordered Cru. "Becker, get the fighters scrambled, quick-like."
"Yes sir," from both officers.
"Action stations! Action stations!" the loudspeaker blared with the sound of Palmer's voice. "All decks! This is not a drill!"
"Palmer or Becker, alert the fleet to execute their jumps," called Cru. "Use escape coordinates bravo."
"On it, sir," replied Palmer. "Execute jumps using escape coordinates bravo. Confirm?"
"Confirmed," called Cru.
"Galactica to all vessels," called out Palmer across the fleet frequencies, "execute immediate FTL jump to Escape Coordinates Bravo - I say again, execute immediate FTL jump - Escape Coordinates Bravo."
"Commander is on the phone, sir," called out Petty Officer Kinchloe. She was at the near entrance with a handset in hand. "He wants a SitRep."
"Patrol has confirmed a single base star launching raiders," replied Cru. "They are eight minutes out. Vipers are scrambling and the fleet is jumping. Tell him."
"Done, sir," called Kinchloe after a short moment. "Commander is on his way. Ex-O is on his way.
"Thank you."
Palmer watched the DRADIS screen at his console. "Major, they tracked us down, but they frakked up the locale, again. They're too far away to do anything but chase us out - again." Palmer set his finger to the DRADIS screen and traced the distance between the fleet and where Hotdog called out the attack. "They frakked up," said Palmer shaking his head. "We'll be long gone before they get here - just like last time."
Cru pursed his lips while watching the DRADIS above him. "I don't know, Palmer. Did they frak up or are they training us to take our time? To be sloppy?"
"Whattaya mean, sir?"
"They're launching raiders, but it's a waste of their time and ours. They'll spend an hour recovering their craft. They're up to something different this time. I can feel it."
Palmer shrugged.
"Give me status, please - all ships," said Cru.
"All but four checked in. Ensign Titus is hailing them now."
Cru nodded. "See? They caught us sleeping. Okay, let me know when 100% response."
"Yes, sir."
Cru turned in place towards the Comm station. Ensign Becker sat at the position Dualla worked during day hours. "Ensign Becker, when you finish, I need you to pull back both the patrol and the alert. Set them as overwatch while the squadron forms. Talk to the CAG. Ask him to keep his people close in. Don't run out to intercept. Not yet. Got all that?"
"Yes, sir. Understood."
Cru drummed his fingers on the nearby console. "The Cylons are too far out and they're still deploying their raiders - again," he repeated to no one in particular. "Why do this?"
"Maybe they know something we don't," said Palmer.
"Let's hope not. This virus clean-up business is wreaking havoc on the systems. What's the FTL status? Are we good?"
"Online and ready, sir - Escape Coordinates Bravo."
"Check it again, please."
"Yes, sir," said Palmer as his fingers clicked their way through the FTL's particulars.
Several tense seconds passed.
"FTL's good, Major. Confirmed," said Palmer
"Okay - what about fleet status? Who's tracking jumps?"
"I am, sir," said Kinchloa. "Forty-four jumped and counting."
"Forty-four?" Cru shook his head in frustration. "Damn it, we're too slow getting out. Get on the horn with these folks and apply some leverage."
"Leverage, sir?" asked Kinchloe. "What leverage?"
"If they don't get their asses moving, I'll re-assign their positions to the out-most reaches. They can be the new Cylon welcoming committee."
"You mean their fleet positions? Can you do that?"
"No, Petty Officer Kinchloe, I cannot, but they don't know that."
"Enemy contact!" shouted Lee Adama.
"Frak…" said Palmer.
"Frak…" said Cru.
Apollo led the viper squadron and was first to engage the raiders at point-blank range. With no warning, there were dozens of Cylon raiders popping in and around them. "Cylon raiders are jumping inside the fleet perimeter!"
At the same moment, Gaeta arrived at the CIC to take over tactics. Dualla arrived to take Comm.
"Damn it," said Cru out loud, "frakking well played."
"Their targeting fleet ships," shouted Apollo. "Adriatic, Greenleaf, Shellhorn, and Celestra taking fire."
"Re-task all fighters to protect the ships - priority one," called Commander Adama as he entered the CIC. "Gun decks switch to selective targeting."
"Yes, sir," said Dualla.
"Jump status, Mr. Gaeta," called out Cru, "quickly, man"
"All but six have jumped, sir."
"Galactica!" shouted Apollo, "we've lost the Shellhorn!"
Gaeta confirmed as the ship's transponder blipped and was gone from the DRADIS screen. "It's gone."
Outside, the Shellhorn exploded in total conflagration. It was a starburst of bright white and yellow light with trailing pieces of wreckage.
"Gods, no," breathed Kinchloe. "How many lost?."
"Focus on your jobs, people," growled Colonel Tigh as he swept into the CIC.
Cru stepped back and out of the way as Commander Adama and Colonel Tigh took command of the engagement. He took a moment to look for Bree's Twin on the DRADIS. It was long gone. Young Fletcher would have been on duty. The kid was good under pressure.
"Confirmed the Shellhorn is lost, all hands - it's one of the small station service rigs," called Gaeta to Adama and Tigh.
"...and, it's the living quarters for many," said Cru to himself, "forty-five souls, minimum."
"All other ships are away," finished Gaeta.
"Land our people," said Commander Adama. "Take us out of here."
~~~~~/~~~~~
The crew was lifeless as they stood down from Condition One. The returning pilots confirmed the Shellhorn was a complete loss with no possibility of survivors. The Adriatic, Greenleaf, and Celestra were all reporting casualties. The Greenleaf's losses had been severe.
Cru waited alone in the briefing room. There was a clock on the wall that ticked loudly. A stub of a pencil lay on a nearby table - the eraser was worn down to nothing.
The handset on the wall rang out. Cru picked up. It was Dee from the CIC.
"Major, the switchboard has a call for you," said Dee. Her voice was low and dispirited. "Can I put them through?"
"Yes, please. Thank you," said Cru.
The line clicked. "Major, I have a call from the Bree's Twin," said a voice coming from Galactica's communication room.
"Put them through."
The line clicked again.
"Are you okay?" The voice was quiet. Concerned. It was Evvie. She knew Cru was the senior officer on duty when the attack unfolded. She would not have known the extent of Cru's involvement, only that he was a part of it and people were lost.
Cru thought of the maintenance rig, Shellhorn. It would have had forty-some people aboard when it exploded. Living space was scarce all over the fleet and the small vessel had more than double its crew in lodgers cramped into wherever they could fit. Casualty reports were still coming in from the other ships, which were adding many dozens more to those lost. It was Cru's watch. He was responsible for the opening moves. He played the scenario over and over in his head, considering what he might have done differently. A single minute might have been the difference between life and death for many. Cru was far from "okay".
"I'm fine," said Cru. He lied. "What about everyone over there?"
"Fletcher is a little shaken. He jumped us away on his own. John hadn't gotten to the bridge yet. He thinks he abandoned you."
"He's a good kid. I'll talk to him."
"Yeah," said Evvie. "He is. Thanks."
Cru had to speed up the conversation. He could hear Adama's approach and him talking outside the room.
"Evvie, could you try to get a hold of T-Dog for me? He had one of his maintenance rigs, called the Shellhorn, working on the Adriatic. It got caught in the open. It was lost."
"We've heard," said Evvie with a low voice. "Richard, I'm told that T-Dog was running the job. He's unaccounted for."
Cru did not speak for a long pause.
"Richard, did you hear me? T-Dog is missing."
"Okay," said Cru as he released a long breath. "Okay, Thank you. I need to go."
"Okay, Hon," said Evvie. "I'll see you when you get back. okay?"
"Right, I'll see you then."
Cru disconnected just as Commander Adama entered the briefing room. Cru stood as Adama approached and sat with him at a table.
"Major, I'll need your report A.S.A.P., but wanted a quick debrief. Take me through the lead-up."
"Yes, sir," said Cru. His voice switched to 'all business'.
"It was a bad DRADIS lock, and then it was gone," said Cru. "I sent the patrol over to get a better look."
Adama nodded with the oration. It was a standard operating procedure to check any and all unreadable "blips".
"They were attacking from more than 100,000 meters out," said Cru. "I thought it could be a ruse to draw off our fighter cover. And it was."
"Good call, keeping them in close."
"Lucky, I suppose." Cru thought of T-Dog, of the Shellhorn, its lost crew, and the mounting casualty list. "For some."
"For some," Adama repeated with a nod.
"I expect the first contact, the bad DRADIS lock, was them getting our bearings. They used the time it took our patrol to get out there, to calculate jump numbers, and then drop in on us with their raiders. It worked."
Both men were silent as a long thirty seconds ticked away on the wall clock. "Alright, Major," said Adama. "I'll need the report. After that, get some rest. We'll talk again."
"Yes, sir."
~~~~~/~~~~~
Colonel Tigh entered the briefing room not long after. Cru leaned forward to stand but Tigh waved him off.
"Keep your seat, Major," said Tigh.
The Colonel circled the table where Cru sat and took a seat opposite.
"How are you?" said Tigh. His voice was gruff but with a tone of concern, as a leader might be over a subordinate when battle was done. He considered the Marine. Responsibility lay heavy, pointed, and acute, on the younger man.
"I'm fine, sir," replied Cru but it was far from the truth. He didn't believe it and neither did Tigh.
"Uh-huh," said Tigh.
"Yeah," said Cru when Tigh didn't continue. It was a long pause and somebody had to say something. Cru gave a smile of acceptance and a nod, "it sucks."
"It's Command. It's what you do," said Tigh. "You have a finite amount of time, a finite amount of actionable intel, and the lives of thousands on your shoulders. You make a decision and you move forward."
Cru nodded. The Colonel was more 'gung-ho' than Cru was up for, but he wasn't wrong.
"I'll be honest," said Cru. "I was relieved when you and the Commander showed up. I didn't have a next move."
"And, that's the Chain of Command, isn't it? You carry the shit as far as you can, even more, if you have to, and if needed and gods willing, you have someone to pass it to."
Cru nodded again. He took up the stub of a pencil that lay a short distance away. He snapped it in two. No reason - he just did.
Tigh watched Cru drop the pieces. "I expect the old man will want the after-action report."
Cru gave another accepting smile and a nod. "He was clear on that, sir, more sooner than later."
"Okay, I'll leave you to it."
Tigh stood. Cru leaned forward again, to stand, but Tigh gave another wave. Cru settled back into his seat.
"Thirteen missiles," said Tigh as he reached the door and turned.
"Sir?" said Cru, looking up.
"Thirteen, SK-type missiles were fired at our civilian ships from those Cylon raiders," continued Tigh. "Twelve were destroyed en route, all of them by the viper squadron you held back. Thirteen ships had a death mark on them. We lost only one."
Cru thought about the missiles used. The SKs, or 'Ship-Killers' as they were called, were bulky and somewhat slow, but each carried 2,800 pounds of highly explosive material and only needed to get close, to be deadly. Cru knew where the thirteenth missile had found its mark. It was the Shellhorn. It was T-Dog."
"Get it?" added Tigh. "It's the Command. It's what we do."
"Yes, sir," said Cru. "Thank you, sir."
This ends Chapter 23
What I was thinking while writing.
It looks like some people went back and skimmed thru chapters looking for the first encounter with Liddy. FYI, this occurred in Chapter 12.
Essa's full name, Esrenladiel, came from an online, fiction name generator with 'elf' and 'female' as the filters. Cool stuff.
I'm no poet, but I tried. I have respect for songwriters and their stringing together rhyming words that don't sound corny.
I've known officers and ranking NCOs who lead as Cru does. Light humor was acceptable but the troops always knew where the line was and never crossed it. Some officers said please and thank you, as a general courtesy, when they didn't have to - which was not unlike Cru. Adama does on occasion - as in, "Thank you. Mr. Gaeta". Cru is also a Marine operating among subordinate Navy officers and crewmembers. He outranks most of them but he knows they have their pride and he is respectful of it.