A Chance Encounter Version 2
Disclaimer: I do not own most of the characters, and definitely not the universes as things would be seriously different if I did, that I am about to mangle around and mash together for my own amusement. Sadly, all Robotech and Battlestar Galactica concepts and characters remain the property of Harmony Gold and Ronald D Moore I am merely borrowing them and make absolutely no profit from their use. As a result, please keep the legal attack dogs – also known as lawyers – firmly muzzled and on a leash as I have no money to give to anyone.
Authors Note: I had a few people comment in reviews of the last chapter that the REF appeared to be holding back and not using their veritechs. They weren't as you will see in part of this chapter. I really wasn't expecting to get this one done so soon but it just seemed to write itself, so you've got two updates in two days.
Chapter Nine
Sabre Leader
A Few Minutes Earlier
Dressed in a full suit of CVR-3 body armour, which he was wearing over his flight suit, and cocooned within the cockpit of a VF-4 Lightning veritech fighter Commander Hiro Takashima grunted slightly as with a surge of gee forces an electromagnetic catapult launched him clear of the Procyon. Around him the rest of Sabre – the only squadron on the Procyon that was equipped with the powerful Lightnings the rest were still using VF-1 Valkyries though they had all had their systems and weapons significantly upgraded from the model that had fought and ultimately won the Robotech War – were also launched into space. Grabbing his controls he brought the Lightning around and into formation around the great battleship and waited for what he knew was going to come next.
All around him the rest of the UEEF ships were also launching their squadrons of fighters. It was a somewhat eclectic mix of VF-1 and VF-4 veritechs, some of the new VFA-5 Alpha's and non-transformable space fighters like the Comet. Which was if he was honest with himself somewhat representative of the United Earth Expeditionary Forces themselves as they were in the midst of a major transition between levels of technology and the fighters – both veritech and non-veritech – designed to use them. He had heard rumours that there was plans to eventually replace all existing veritech groups with the Alpha fighters, though he hoped that wasn't the case as while the Alpha looked really nice on paper – not to mention it carried an absolutely ungodly number of missiles – it didn't have the endurance of other models like his current ride.
He put those thoughts out of his mind for now as he waited in formation for the Cylons to respond to the ultimatum to withdraw or be destroyed that Admiral Haywood had just given them. Somehow, he didn't think the machines would do that as they were probably confident that their far superior numbers – seventy-five ships to the UEEF's eighteen – would give them the edge even if the UEEF had superior weaponry. A small countdown on one of his side screens showed the time remaining until the admiral's warning expired. Ten seconds remaining… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one… zero.
The Cylon capital ships made no move to leave instead they and an absolutely colossal swarm of fighter craft – that honestly reminded him of the swarms of battlepods and fighter pods that the Zentraedi had deployed during the war so great were their numbers – continued to close with the Colonial ships. Some of which were already jumping away – so was one of their lighter warships certainly to protect them – but others were just sitting there. Whatever fold system they have is probably cold as they've been sitting here for days at least, he thought guessing that they would need to power them back up before they could leave themselves.
It was at that moment that the Procyon opened fire. Both of the superheavy particle beam cannons mounted on either side of the prow – while there had been talk of fitting the Polaris-class battleships with reflex cannons it had ultimately been decided not to as doing so would have needlessly complicated the design of the ship – firing sending some of the strongest particle beams they knew how to generate at the Cylon fleet. Almost immediately two of their vaguely star shaped ships died, consumed by the power of weapons that could swat even a fully operational Zentraedi command dreadnought from the sky.
The response from the Cylons was immediate.
The bigger ships immediately began launching missiles towards them while a sizeable chunk of the fighters also began advancing towards them – the bulk of them however remained focused on the Colonial ships. There was no attempt to evade the Cylon fighters just approached in a wall like formation and travelled a straight as a laser towards them.
"Idiots," he muttered as the fleet showed them the depths of that particular bit of lunacy. Simultaneously in a blaze of coruscating light all eighteen of their ships opened fire sending a wall of particle beams, beam lasers and anti-fighter missiles towards their approaching foes. The effect was devastating as the deluge of firepower simply wiped whole wings of Cylon fighters from the sky in nanoseconds – the beams disintegrating them so thoroughly that not even dust remained – on their way to the warships which reeled under the brutal barrage. Several exploded immediately with a number of others falling out of formation trailing debris, atmosphere, and some kind of fluid from multiple breaches in their hulls.
Yet the machines kept coming even as more beams and missiles tore into their approaching fighter swarm. Do these guys have no common sense or sense of real space war tactics, he wondered as the damn the torpedoes full speed ahead tactic they were using seemed very wasteful to him. Even as more of the Cylon fighters died – incinerated either by energy beams or the yellow flash of a plasma warhead – someone in the enemy fleets command structure apparently suddenly decided to do something different.
His screens came alive with warnings as in a series of flashes eight of the smaller Cylon capital ships appeared behind their fleet. They opened fire immediately with a mixture of different types of heavy artillery cannons as well as missiles. Simultaneously they launched fresh fighters to engage their forces. Despite the surprise appearance the Cylon attack didn't damage any of their capital ships as pinpoint barriers appeared blocking the cannon rounds which shattered and exploded harmless on impact and aft defensive lasers began firing to pick off enemy missiles.
"Procyon to all veritechs break formation and engage hostile forces at our rear," came the voice of the flight controller on the Procyon across the common squadron command frequency.
"Roger that command," Hiro acknowledged immediately before switching to the Sabre Squadron command frequency. "Sabre Leader to all Sabres. You heard them ladies and gentlemen let's go bag ourselves some Cylons."
As his squadron mates answered with a chorus of rogers Hiro brought his fighter around and advanced upon the Cylons. He immediately locked onto the closest fighter and since it was already too close to really use missiles he engaged with his guns, specifically the twin particle cannons that were the main energy armament of the VF-4. Blasts of ion energy slammed into the alien fighter, and it didn't so much as explode under the impact as simply be vaporised by the power of bolts that were designed to punch through highly durable robotechnology alloys like the armour used on Zentraedi battle mecha.
Even as his first target disintegrated, he noted several more angling in on him, firing light autocannon rounds as they did in an attempt to pin him down long enough to kill him. Oh no you don't, he thought as he reached out and pulled down a specific switch and immediately both felt and heard the veritech begin to change as the near magical process that scientists had long since dubbed mechamorphosis took place changing the veritech from the form of an advanced, but otherwise ordinary looking fighter plane into the towering techno-knight form of a battloid.
In seconds the transformation was complete, and Hiro allowed himself a warrior's smile as he engaged the enemy, side stepping their streams of bullets with ease while returning fire with both particle cannon and lasers. The Cylons raiders, confronted with something they had never seen before, stood no chance and after what seemed like only a few seconds Hiro had several more kills on his score card. This is almost too easy, he thought to himself as he switched back to fighter mode and looked for his next target.
A brilliant explosion momentarily caught his attention, and he glanced over to see a Battle-class destroyer spinning out of control, the light of a nuclear explosion fading near it. The source of the nuclear missile being one of the Cylon cruisers – all of which were now coming under increasing fire from the aft batteries of the capital ships, fire which was steadily tearing them apart as their armour was simply not designed with directed energy weapons in mind – which not giving the destroyer time to recover fired two gauss cannon rounds at it. One missed but the other impact and blew apart one of the vessels port side turrets. The Cylon cruiser didn't get chance to fire again as several plasma missiles slammed into it and tore the entire vessel apart.
Its fellows joined it a few seconds later as the beams from the capital ships aft turrets finished them off.
As the last cruiser died Hiro began looking around for more targets noting that yet another missile salvo was coming their way from the now much depleted fleet of the larger capital ships. Why are they staying, he wondered even as he idly sent a pair of missiles screaming towards two Cylon fighters that were angling to strike the wounded destroyer. It didn't make much sense to him for the Cylons to remain as he would have thought it obvious by now that they were no match for them.
Then he glanced at the Colonial Fleet and understood why the Cylons had stayed even though, according to the fleet's battle network thirty of the larger capital ships and twelve of the smaller ones had been destroyed many by their guns. The Colonial Fleet was in a very bad way, one of their warships had been destroyed with all the others that had remained being obviously damaged. Though all of them were continuing to fight pounding out round after round of solid kinetic death. The damage to those civilian ships that hadn't already left though was catastrophic with many having been smashed apart by cannon and missile fire from the Cylon fighters and warships. The Cylons were clearly staying to inflict as much damage on the Colonial survivors as they could before they were destroyed themselves.
Though as he watched the last of the civilian ships vanished into fold jumps.
"Procyon to Sabre Leader come in."
"This is Sabre Leader go ahead," Hiro answered as the face of the senior flight operations officer on the Procyon appeared on his comm screen.
"Sabre Leader we've just been informed by the Pegasus that the Galactica is in serious trouble," flight control replied urgently, "they've lost power to their amidships port defence batteries and are thus dangerously vulnerable on that flank. The Colonials are sending some fighters to assist her, but the admiral wants some of ours there as well."
"And you want me to take my squadron and go help out?"
"Yes."
"Consider it done."
"Thanks Hiro. Good luck."
Hiro nodded back and changed back to the squadron channel. "Sabre Leader to all Sabres. New orders people. One of the Colonial battlestars is in serious trouble we've been ordered to go and assist them. Everyone form up on me and hit your afterburners."
A chorus or rogers answered him and as the rest of the squadron began to reassemble into formation Hiro brought the nose of his plane around to point at the Galactica. The coordinates of which had been sent to his navigational array by the Procyon. A few taps of his controls had the veritech's computer running a scan of the vessel which was over twenty thousand kilometres away from his current position.
The results of the scan came back almost immediately and he couldn't help but wince at what he saw. Command wasn't joking the aging battlestar was in a bad way, one of her flight pods already broken open and one of her engines had been destroyed. From the way she was listing to one side her attitude control systems had been damaged and yet amazingly she was still fighting. Every weapons array that was still functional was firing upon the Cylons – working hard to keep away the fighters that we're starting to circle her like sharks sensing blood in the water.
For a non-robotech warship she was tough he would give her that.
A bleep from the computer let him know that the squadron was in formation. Immediately he firewalled his throttles bringing the afterburners to full power. Superheated ions bursting from his planes tailpipes as it shot forward at high speed. He wasn't alone as the whole squadron moved together charging forwards towards the wounded vessel intent on helping her, on getting the circling Cylon fighters away from her so she would have a chance to recover and restore power to the vulnerable section.
A squadron of Cylon fighters that attempted to cut them off was easily dealt with a combination of a massive missile salvo and a brutal barrage of charged particle bolts and laser pulses. The VF-4 Lightnings didn't slow down, instead they kept charging towards the Galactica the pilots all hoping that they would get there in time to save her.
They were almost there when it happened.
Two of the smaller Cylon warships appeared from pinpoint fold jumps right off the Galactica's vulnerable port side. Realising what was about to happen Hiro checked his inventory of remaining weapons and noted – pleased – that he still had two medium Derringer anti-ship missiles attached to his underwing weapons nacelles. And he was just close enough to fire them at the Cylons.
"Sabre Leader to all Sabres does anyone else have any anti-ship missiles?" he asked into the squadron command frequency. Sabres twenty one, thirty one and thirty two all confirmed that they did. "Excellent okay boys sync your targeting systems with mine. We're going to hit those two Cylon cruisers."
"Roger," the other three pilots acknowledged and within moments fresh icons appeared on Hiro's screens as the targeting and firing systems all synched up. Quickly Hiro targeted the closest of the two Cylon cruisers and pulled the trigger. The two Derringer anti-ship missiles dropped free of his weapon nacelles and began streaking across space – leaving trails of ion smoke in their wake – towards the warship. Six other Derringers followed it all on course for the closest Cylon ship.
But it was too little and too late for even as the missiles launched the two Cylon ships opened fire on the Galactica.
The port flight pod of the Galactica was the first part to be hit. Travelling far faster than the other kinetic rounds or the seventy-two missiles that had been fired the gauss rounds were the first to strike. Armour already battered and weakened by both the ravages of time and numerous battles between the old battlestar and the Cylons shattered like brittle glass allowing the now disintegrating tungsten slugs into the interior of the pod in the form of a storm of hypervelocity razor blades. Razor blades that sliced through anything and everything in their way be it bulkheads, equipment, fuel lines and the bodies of Galen Tyrol and his hangar deck crew, before exploding out the other side of the pod and impacting the armour of the main hull where they finally stopped only pitting the armour.
The first of the missile salvo arrived, flying into the holes already blown in the now rapidly decompressing flight pod and detonating. The explosions rippling through the interior tearing everything that was left to pieces, ripping open tylium fuel storage cells and munitions magazines. The detonations of both added to the tsunami of destruction raging in the flight pod. The blast surged up to the connecting struts that joined the pod to the main body of the ship and was stopped by heavy blast doors that – due to the ship being at action stations – were sealed tighter than a drum and stopped the blast in its tracks. Not that it helped the pod as the entire structure came apart, exploding into a storm of debris and flames. Much of the former of which smacked into the main hull, breaking through weakened or decayed due to age sections of armour to seriously damage the hull beneath.
Propelled by the tremendous explosive force of the destroyed flight pod the Galactica abruptly veered sharply to starboard causing the Cylon cannon rounds to miss. The same could not be said for the Cylon missiles as they simply adjusted course and slammed one after another into the hull. Armour and hull metal beneath shattered as the missile salvo ripped open a seven hundred meter long section of the hull like the battlestar was a fish on a slab. Secondary explosions erupted as damaged systems blew out and compromised compartments suddenly, violently decompressed.
Immediately the Galactica lost main power as the violent shocks pushed safety dampeners on her reactors past the safe zone causing the vessels aging solium-fuelled reactors to go into emergency shut down to prevent detonation. It was a small mercy and saved those crew who were still alive from suffering the same fate as those who had been in the flight pod. Not that the rest of the battlestar was trouble free as the shock of the impact tore through the rest of the ship like an earthquake causing crumpling bulkheads and sending debris crashing down upon crew who were already struggling to get back on their feet after the initial massive hit.
The glow of the explosions faded revealing the severely damaged battlestar spinning helpless like a wounded bird. Seeing their hated foe helpless the two Cylon cruisers prepared to unleash another salvo, a salvo that if it hit would crack the Galactica like an egg. So consumed with the idea of finishing off William Adama, who had been such a thorn in their side since the attack on the colonies, the humanoid Cylon command crew didn't notice the urgent warning about the incoming missiles on their dradis displays.
Thus, the crew of the one cruiser were caught by complete surprise when eight armour piercing Derringer anti-ship missiles slammed into their ship and punched deep into the vessel before detonating. Spheres of plasma hotter than the core of a star burst into existence inside the doomed cruiser instantly vaporising everything around them and superheating the atmosphere in surrounding compartments to the point where it flash ignited spreading the destruction until the ship broke apart along the seams and detonated as its fuel and munitions stores cooked off.
Colonial Viper 2101
A Few Moments Earlier
A scream of horror and sheer rage exploded out of Starbuck's throat as she observed the effect of the Cylon attack upon the Galactica. She wasn't alone as both Racetrack and Kat emitted similar screams as they observed, unable to do anything to stop it, first the port flight pod – and everyone inside it – be torn apart and annihilated and then the Cylon missiles rip an ugly gash across a huge section of the battlestars port side.
The explosions faded and somewhat to their surprise the old ship was still there, but she was obviously critically damaged spinning out of control and with no power or hope to correct the ships motion. Starbuck felt tears running down her cheek as she beheld the sorry sight of the old ship, she knew almost everyone who would have died when the flight pod was destroyed. She just hoped, prayed that the Old Man was still alive over there – even though the interior of the ship would no doubt be a mess – as she honestly didn't know what she would do if Wiliam Adama had perished. Killed like so many others by those fracking toasters.
Certainly, she knew if he was dead, it would destroy Lee. Having lost his younger brother years earlier in a flight accident – something that she still blamed herself for as if she hadn't let her feelings for Zack Adama influence her, she would never have cleared him to fly Vipers – and his mother in the Cylon attack the Old Man was the only family he had left. It was what had actually healed the rift between the two of them that had opened up after Zack's death.
"Fracking toasters," she growled only to be surprised when eight red missiles slammed into one of the two Cylon cruisers, punched deep into it before detonating. The blasts quickly turning the warship into a cloud of debris and burning plasma. "What the frack? Where did those come from?"
"I believe they fired them," Stinger replied, "Terran fighters incoming."
No sooner than the former CAG of the Pegasus spoke than sixteen large white fighters, which looked more like they belonged in a planetary atmosphere than space, shot past them. The force of their ion exhausts rattling the four Vipers. The Terran fighter squadron split in two half going up over the remaining Cylon cruisers dorsal hull, while the other went down and over the ventral hull. As they passed it the fighters fired storms of blue and yellow energy bolts into the hull triggering a blizzard of explosions as the bolts punched deep into the hull.
"Let's go we can't let them have all the fun," she growled as she firewalled her throttles and charged towards the Cylon cruiser intent on joining the savaging of the vessel. She never got there for as the Terran fighters completed their attack runs panels opened on all of them and each launched two or three small missiles into the Cylon ship. Missiles whose small size completely belied their destructive power as they triggered a series of massive explosions that steadily consumed the cruiser until something vital within it gave and the entire vessel disintegrated.
"Okay what the frack were those," she asked aloud into the squadron frequency.
"Micro-missiles with cobalt warheads," an unfamiliar male voice, speaking with an accent that she had never heard before, answered. "Basically, each is a plasma charge that is designed to punch through materials far more durable than the biometallic armour these Cylons of yours use."
"Who?" Starbuck asked.
"Hiro Takashima," the voice answered, "Sabre Leader and CAG of the United Earth Starship Procyon. Sorry if we stole your kill."
"It's fine," Starbuck replied. "There's plenty more toasters to kill. So, Hiro you got a callsign?"
"Nope. Never had one and don't need one. We did away with such things years ago, the attrition rates in robotech warfare are simply too high for such things to really matter. So, who are you?"
"Kara Thrace, you can call me Starbuck."
"Starbuck as in the coffee shop?"
"Coffee shop?"
"Yeah, back on Earth there is this global chain of coffee shops all called Starbucks. They're one of the few franchise chains to have survived the Rain."
"I see," Starbuck replied even as she wondered just what this Rain was. She could hear the capitalisation in it and got the distinct impression that the term was Terran military shorthand for something else. Something more terrifying. "We can talk about it later. Let's go kill some more toasters."
"You won't get any argument from me," Hiro replied, "though you might find some hard to find in a few more moments."
"What do you…" she started to say before sudden flashes of light caught her attention. She looked out and saw a dozen more of the energy spheres that had proceeded the appearance of the Procyon erupt into normal space. Now what, she thought as the spheres flashed with Cherenkov radiation and vanished revealing several dozen more Terran warships including another of their battleships and two equally large vessels that were a bit more angular, and which immediately began spewing fighters – a lot of fighters.
Before Starbuck's shocked eyes a ripple, like a silent cry of dismay, seemed to run through the Cylon fleet. A fleet that now she looked at it was only a fraction of the size it had been when this fight had started. She could only see ten baseships and two of those cruisers left. The rest were all gone, reduced to plumes of plasma and debris. For a moment nothing more happened then almost simultaneously all of them as well as all the remaining raiders jumped out withdrawing from what had, for almost everyone involved, been an extremely costly battle.
For a moment she sat there just watching as the last of the Cylons fled. Then Starbuck turned her attention back to the Galactica. To see that she was still spinning slightly and appeared to be launching her lifepods. Clearly the surviving crew were evacuating meaning that, as painful a thing as it was to comprehend, that the Galactica herself was mortally wounded. Something that was proven a moment later when she saw a dangerous ripple appear in the hull before it seemed to slightly twist and then collapse into itself before releasing a jet of atmosphere.
After a moment she realized exactly what it meant. Galactica's back was broken and that the mere force of her spin was causing her to begin breaking up. Thus, with no way to save her as a ship with a broken back was unrecoverable, the survivors of the crew had no choice but to abandon the dying vessel.
She just hoped Admiral Adama was among them.
Authors Notes: Well, another chapter bites the dust. I hope you all enjoyed it. I am still somewhat in shock about how quickly I have been able to get this chapter done, it is very, very rare for me to be able to write a whole chapter in a single day. Guess I wanted to get the battle with the Cylons over with and I hope you all enjoyed what I came up with. Is Admiral Adama alive? You will find out in the next chapter which will be an aftermath chapter. I am inclined for him to be alive as while the Galactica is dead – even in canon she was by this point in time beginning to suffer from the effects of metal fatigue and the fact that due to being built during a time of war corners were cut during her construction the brutal attack from those two Cylon cruisers just pushed her already aged structure past the point of no return – it would be nice for him to be alive. I will decide for sure who among the Galactica's crew is alive and who perished.
Before I go to avoid a bit of confusion, I should explain how the numbering of REF veritech fighter squadrons work when there are only sixteen planes, but they can have numbers like Sabre thirty two. Each squadron is divided up into four smaller groups there is one command group which uses numbers one to four – though one can also use the designation of the squadrons name and leader – while the other four are numbered one to three with each plane having a specific number that reflects its position in the group. So, for example Sabre thirty two is Sabre Squadron, Group Three Plane Two. I hope that makes sense and avoids any confusion. Until next time.