Chapter Seventeen: By Force and Violence
Pavo, Canceron:
Lieutenant Jeremiah 'Lone Wolf' Belcher tinkered with the control panel of the Viper, his fingers moving deftly over the buttons and screens. He murmured to himself as he assessed each system, checking for any damage or malfunction.
Major Mark 'Archangel' Hunter stood behind him, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes darting back and forth between Belcher's actions and Arthur Wallace's smirking face. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off about this whole situation. The man may have the title of a Ministry of Intelligence officer, but there was something about him that did not sit well with him.
'You and I are going to have a reckoning,' he thought to himself.
As if sensing his unease, Lieutenant Robert 'Dragonfly' Freeman approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is everything alright, Major?"
Archangel turned to face him, "I don't trust Wallace. How did he know about this place and why did he bring us here? And who are you two really?"
Freeman exchanged a glance with Belcher before sighed. "We're part of a covert unit working on special assignments for high-ranking military officials. Wallace is our contact in the Ministry of Intelligence. He's been feeding us information on Cylons and other threats."
This only heightened Archangel's suspicions. "And what about these Vipers? Why are they so important?
Wallace, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, sauntered over with a sly grin. "The Vipers are part of a top-secret project that could turn the tide in the war against the Cylons. We need to get them operational and back to the fleet."
The mention of Cylons brought a sense of urgency to the group. They were all fighting for survival against these robotic enemies, and any advantage could mean the difference between life and death.
Archangel's jaw tightened as he conceded with a nod. "Alright, but I want answers, Wallace."
'As if I needed a reminder of my pompous and arrogant reputation,' thought Wallace with a scowl, feeling the weight of Archangel's demanded gaze. He begrudgingly accepted being interrogated like a wayward child by his superior.
With their common goal fueling them, they dove into the task at hand, working in perfect synchronization to assess the state of the Vipers. Their hands flew over the controls and wirings with lightning speed and precision, determined to uncover any flaws or dangers that could jeopardize their mission.
"Belcher reported that it appears they have preserved the birds well. With a bit of additional effort, we might restore these birds to flying condition."
Wallace nodded in approval. "Excellent. Time is of the essence. We need to get these Vipers back to the fleet and share the information we've gathered here. It could be crucial in winning this war."
Still skeptical, Archangel couldn't help but confront Wallace about his doubts. "How did you know so much about this place? And why are you helping us?"
Wallace let out a sigh and looked down at the ground before meeting Archangel's gaze again. "I work for a secret presidential task force that's been keeping tabs on the Ministry of Intelligence. We've been trying to uncover their secrets, and this base is one of them."
Archangel frowned, processing this new information. "So you're just some rogue agent acting on your own accord?"
"You could say that," Wallace replied cryptically. "But right now, our priority is getting off Canceron and delivering this technology. We can settle our differences later."
The group continued to work in silence, the tension between Archangel and Wallace still palpable. Belcher and Freeman exchanged worried glances, unsure of how this confrontation would play out.
Olympica:
Diplomatic Suites:
Aviv Kidira and Telani Mozano stalked through the diplomatic area of Olympica, their footsteps masked by the polished marble floors. These luxurious suites, once reserved for the elite First-Class passengers on C-Deck, now served as a haven for the civilian government officials in the aftermath of the devastating Cylon attacks.
"Make it quick," Kidira growled, pulling out a knife from his coat pocket.
A sinister smirk spread across Mozano's face as he replied, "Two women for us to play with."
They paused outside a closed door and Mozano checked the handle. It was unlocked. A rush of adrenaline filled their veins as they entered the room, ready to carry out their orders.
"They're so trusting," Kidira sneered as he nudged the door open.
"Don't underestimate them," Mozano cautioned, following him inside and shutting the door behind them.
Darkness enveloped the room, but a dimly lit lamp on a nearby table provided some light. The faint glow illuminated two figures huddled together on a couch - their targets. As Kidira and Mozano prepared to unleash their cruel desires upon the unsuspecting victims, the air became thick with tension.
In a state of fright, the two women jumped as the door creaked open. They huddled closer together, their bodies trembling with fear at the intruders.
"What do you want?" One of them asked, her voice shaking.
Mozano let out a low chuckle as he stepped closer, his knife glinting in the dim light. "We just want to have some fun."
"Please, just leave us alone," the other woman pleaded, her tears beginning to flow.
"Oh, we're not going to hurt you," Mozano assured her with a wicked smile. "Just a little game."
While Kidira prowled around the room looking for any potential threats or escape routes, he noticed a small panic button on the desk. He quickly disabled it before his partner caught on.
A rush of adrenaline filled their veins as they entered the dark room, their victims huddled together on a couch. But before they could make a move, everything went dark and they heard the click of a trap locking them inside.
They had been so focused on their prey that they had not noticed Captain Whitney Thompson, Ministry of Intelligence, creep out from a nearby room with her pistol drawn.
Kidira and Mozano froze as she announced her presence, their hands reaching for their weapons in panic. But before they could make a move, she had them at gunpoint, unfazed by their bravado.
"Who the frak are you?" Kidira demanded, his tone laced with anger and fear.
The woman didn't flinch as she met their gaze with steely determination. "Captain Whitney Thompson, Ministry of Intelligence."
Kidira and Mozano exchanged a glance, searching for a way out of this unexpected confrontation. They had been so focused on their targets; they had not noticed the presence of the other individuals entrance into the room.
"Ministry of Intelligence?" Mozano scoffed. "You're just a civilian."
Thompson's grip on the pistol tightened as she replied, "I may be a civilian, but I know how to handle scum like you."
She pointed towards the disabled panic button, revealing that she had thwarted their only means of escape. "You thought you were clever, but now you're trapped."
Kidira and Mozano shifted uncomfortably under her intense gaze. They knew this experienced former military officer outnumbered and outmatched them.
"What do you want from us?" Kidira asked, trying to buy time while he formulated an escape plan.
"I want this ship to be safe," Thompson stated firmly. "That means getting rid of people like you who only cause chaos and harm."
"So what are you going to do? Turn us over to the authorities?" Mozano sneered. His bravado returned as he realized he still had his knife at his side.
Thompson didn't flinch as she replied, "No, I'm going to make sure that you can never hurt anyone ever again."
Thompson's words sent a chill down Kidira and Mozano's spines. They had heard whispers about the Ministry of Intelligence and their methods of dealing with criminals like themselves. They both knew they stood no chance against someone like Thompson because they had heard about the ruthless and efficient methods used by the Ministry of Intelligence's agents.
"We can work something out," Kidira said, trying to appeal to her sense of reason.
Thompson's expression remained stern as she replied, "There is no room for negotiation for the safety and security of innocent lives."
Before Kidira or Mozano could react, she fired it at both of them with precision and accuracy. The two men let out screams of pain before collapsing onto the deck, unconscious. A smile came to her face as they hit the carpet. The tranquilizing darts had done their job as intended.
Thompson nodded in return, grateful for the assistance from her fellow agents. Maryam and Lizbeth were both skilled operatives from Olympica Security, and their expertise had proven invaluable in this operation. Together, they quickly secured the two unconscious criminals and began searching the room for any additional threats or evidence. Thompson's sharp eyes noticed a data pad on the desk that had been left behind by one of the men. She carefully picked it up and scanned through its contents, finding valuable information about their criminal activities and connections to other known criminals.
"Good find," Maryam commented as she helped Thompson restrain the men with handcuffs.
"Thanks," Thompson replied with a smile. "Looks like we have enough evidence to take these guys down."
Lizbeth chimed in, "And without any casualties. Nice work."
Thompson couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at successfully completing this mission without any bloodshed. She was glad to have colleagues like Maryam and Lizbeth, who shared her commitment to protecting innocent lives.
With everything under control, Thompson contacted their support team to come pick up the two prisoners and collect any further evidence from the scene. She made sure to report back to her superiors at the Ministry of Intelligence with all the details of their successful operation.
As she walked out of the room, ready to head back to headquarters, Thompson couldn't help but think about how dangerous and unpredictable her job could be. But she also knew that she was making a difference in keeping innocent people safe from harm.
Thompson made her way back to the Ministry of Intelligence headquarters, her mind still reeling from the events of the day. It was always a sobering experience for her to be faced with the harsh realities of their world, where criminals were willing to do anything for power and money.
But Thompson also knew that she was on the right side of this fight. She believed in what she was doing and she had seen firsthand how their work had saved innocent lives.
Battlestar Ark Royal:
Viper Squadron One Ready Room:
Captain Alisa 'Dagger' Stark sat alone in the dimly lit ready room, her eyes fixed on the framed photographs adorning the walls. The images depicted proud pilots of VT-58, also known as the Battle Hawks, standing in front of their Viper spacecrafts. She couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as she thought about their recent battle against the Cylons at Aquaria.
She felt pride for her squadron and their impressive performance in battle on one hand. On the other hand, she couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that they may not be living up to the legacy of the Battle Hawks. As she pondered these conflicting thoughts, Lieutenant Hermes "Thumper" Otaro entered the room with a determined look on his face. Alisa had learned to read her pilots' expressions over time, and she knew that Otaro had something important to tell her.
She stood up from her chair and faced him, bracing herself for whatever news he had to share. "What is it, Thumper?" she asked calmly.
"During our battle at Aquaria," Otaro began hesitantly, struggling to find the right words, "something happened between you and a Cylon Raider."
Alisa's heart skipped a beat as Otaro's words hung heavily in the air. She could tell that this was significant by how carefully he was choosing his words.
"What happened?" Otaro pressed, concern etched on his face.
Alisa took a deep breath before responding. "During the heat of battle, I found myself face to face with a Cylon Raider. But instead of attacking me, it began speaking to me."
Otaro's brow furrowed in confusion. "Speaking? That's impossible."
"I know," Alisa replied with a shake of her head. "But it said something about wanting peace with humanity."
Her words reminded her of the conversation she had with the Raider, or rather the Cylon model who claimed to be communicating through it. She had kept this encounter to herself, as talking about any chance for peace with the Cylons was seen as traitorous by some in their military.
"You misunderstand us, Alisa," the Cylon's words echoed in her mind. "We share a common goal. The cycle must be broken. The endless war between humans and Cylons must end."
Intrigued, Otaro leaned closer to Alisa. "What exactly did it say?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"It said that we misunderstand them and that they share a common goal with us," Alisa explained. "That the cycle of war between our two species must be broken."
Otaro 's mind raced as he processed this information. He had always viewed the Cylons as heartless machines programmed to eradicate humanity. But now, with Alisa's revelation, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their enemy than met the eye.
"We've always assumed that they were just machines trying to destroy us," Alisa said thoughtfully. "But what if there's more to their motivations?"
Otaro was unsure but asked, "Is it possible that this is a trick or deception?"
Alisa nodded in agreement. "That's what I've been thinking about ever since Aquaria. But something about it feels like they're trying to reach out to us."
"But for what purpose?" Otaro wondered aloud.
Alisa's suggestion hung in the air, a glimmer of hope amidst the despair and destruction of war. Otaro's mind raced as he considered her words, his thoughts torn between duty and desire for peace. He could feel the weight of his metal armor pressing down on him as he stood on the deck of the Ark Royal. He thought about all the battles he had fought, all the lives lost in this never-ending war against the Cylons. Alisa's words had planted a seed of doubt in his mind. She was right, they couldn't keep fighting forever. Maybe it was time to consider a different approach.
As he made his way through the corridors, Otaro's mind was consumed with questions and doubts. What if reaching out to the Cylons was a trap? What if it only led to more death and destruction? But what if there was a chance for peace?
His feet carried him towards the ship's chapel, a place he rarely visited. The Virgonian heritage of the Ark Royal was immediately apparent in its delicate design and opulent golden accents. Each step brought him closer to the intricately carved wooden doors, adorned with symbols of faith and hope. As he entered, the smell of incense filled his senses and the soft glow of candles illuminated the sacred space. He gazed in awe at the beautiful stained glass windows depicting scenes from ancient scriptures. This was a place of peace and solace amidst the chaos of war.
Otaro sat in the chapel, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. He couldn't shake Alisa's words and the possibility of a different approach to the war.
As he sat in silence, a voice broke through his thoughts. "May I sit with you?"
Otaro turned to see a young woman standing before him, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders and a gentle smile on her face. She wore the uniform of a deckhand, but there was something about her that seemed different from the others he had encountered on the ship.
"Of course," Otaro replied, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.
The woman took a seat and introduced herself as Keira. They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke again. "I'm not much of a religious person myself, but I find solace in this place."
Otaro nodded in agreement, still lost in his own thoughts. "What brings you here?"
"Just needed some time alone," Keira replied softly. "But it seems like you have something on your mind too."
Otaro hesitated before deciding to open up to this stranger. "I can't stop thinking about what one of my colleagues said earlier about the Cylons."
"About the Cylons?" Keira asked, looking at him with understanding eyes.
"Yeah," Otaro confirmed. "Part of me wants to believe that there's more to them than just machines trying to destroy us."
Keira nodded in understanding. "It's hard to see them as anything other than our enemy after everything we've been through."
They both fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts once again. He couldn't help but notice how peaceful Keira seemed compared to everyone else on board.
"Do you ever wonder what life would be like if there was peace?" Keira suddenly asked, breaking the silence once more.
"All the time," Otaro replied honestly. "But it seems like a distant dream at this point."
Keira's expression turned sad, but she quickly perked up. "But maybe it doesn't have to be just a dream. Maybe we can make it a reality."
He looked at her skeptically. "How?"
"By finding common ground with the Cylons," Keira said determinedly. "We can't keep fighting forever, there has to be another way."
He thought about her words, feeling a glimmer of hope stir within him. Then he remembered all the lives lost, and the pain caused by the war. It was then that his doubts resurfaced.
"I don't know if I can believe that," he admitted.
"I understand," Keira said softly. "What if we try? It's worth a shot, isn't it?"
Otaro didn't have an answer for her and they both fell into silence once again. As they sat in contemplation, he admired Keira's determination and positivity amidst the darkness of war.
After some time had passed, Keira stood up and smiled at him. "Thank you for listening."
"Thank you for talking," Otaro replied with a small smile of his own.
As Keira left the chapel, he couldn't shake off their conversation from his mind. He knew he needed to talk to Alisa about this, to see if maybe there was a way to end the war without more bloodshed.
With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes and lowered his head in the quiet chapel. He prayed for clarity, for resolution to the turmoil he felt inside, and for the courage to follow through with his responsibilities no matter what choice he made. As he exited the chapel, he knew that he wouldn't easily resolve this conflict within himself. He needed to seek advice from someone who could offer a different point of view.
Olympica:
Ministry of Intelligence Headquarters:
Lieutenant Jessica Jennings walked through the dimly lit hallway, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. She hesitated outside Cain's office, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over her. She straightened her uniform and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.
"Come in," came Cain's deep voice from inside the room.
Jennings pushed open the heavy door and entered, her eyes immediately drawn to Cain sitting behind his desk. He seemed lost in thought as he stared at the computer screen in front of him.
"Good afternoon, sir," Jennings said with a slight quiver in her voice.
Cain looked up at her, his intense focus softening into a faint smile. "Hello, Lieutenant."
As she approached his desk, Jennings couldn't help but notice the stacks of papers and files scattered across it. The room was cramped with little space to move around. But despite the chaos, Cain seemed completely at home surrounded by all his work.
"I have those reports you requested," she said, placing them neatly on his desk.
"Thank you," Cain replied absentmindedly as he glanced through the documents.
Jennings shifted her weight from one foot to another, feeling uneasy under Cain's scrutinizing gaze. "Is there anything else I can assist with?" she asked tentatively.
Cain let out a heavy sigh before shaking his head. "No, thank you. That will be all for now."
Jennings nodded and turned to leave, feeling relieved yet disappointed at not being able to help in any significant way. As she closed the door behind her, she couldn't help but wonder what was occupying Cain's mind so heavily.
Meanwhile, Captain Whitney Thompson made her way down the bustling hallway towards Cain's office. She had just finished a meeting with other high-ranking officials and was eager to check in with Cain and see how he was faring.
She knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a response. Cain looked up at her with tired eyes, but his expression brightened as he saw Thompson.
"Captain," he greeted her with a small smile.
Thompson handed him a cup of tea before taking a seat across from him. "I know you've been working non-stop since we got back to Olympica."
Cain took a grateful sip of the warm liquid before replied, "I can't seem to make any progress. The enemy always seems to be one step ahead."
Thompson nodded understandingly. She had seen firsthand the determination and frustration in Cain's eyes as they fought this elusive enemy.
"I think it's time we reach out to our allies," she suggested, leaning forward in her chair.
Cain furrowed his brow and carefully weighed her words. It wasn't the first time they had talked about seeking help from their allies, but he was hesitant to do so for fear of putting them in harm's way or exposing too much of their operations.
"Who do you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.
Thompson's gaze didn't waver as she replied confidently, "Our partnership with the Colonial Fleet has proven to be valuable. I believe it's time to utilize that connection even more."
Cain mulled over her words before nodding in agreement. He trusted Thompson's judgment and knew she wouldn't suggest this lightly.
Meanwhile, back at her workstation, Jessica continued sifting through the endless stream of data sent from the Colonial Fleet. As the liaison between the fleet and the Ministry of Intelligence, it was her responsibility to analyze and filter out any relevant information for Cain to review.
She pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail, a habit she developed during her time at the Fleet Academy when she needed to focus. She worked closely with Captain Thompson and other members of the fleet to establish this partnership, which was still in its early stages but crucial in their fight against the enemy.
Jessica's eyes scanned through lines of code and reports, her mind constantly working to make connections and find any potential leads. She couldn't shake off the feeling of urgency and determination to do whatever it takes to bring down their common enemy. As she sifted through the stack of reports on her desk, Jessica's frustration grew. They were so close to catching their enemy, but he continued to evade them. She knew Cain shared her feelings, and she hoped he would take Thompson's suggestion seriously.
Through the open door of his office, she saw Cain staring intently at another report. His face was lined with fatigue, evidence of his tireless efforts since they returned to Olympica. She wanted to help him, but she also knew he needed time alone with his thoughts.
Jessica stood up as Emily Tolan walked into the room, accompanied by four Marines. Jessica had only met the woman a few times before, but she remembered how kind and approachable she was. Now, seeing her in the presence of armed guards, Jessica couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.
"Mrs. Tolan," Jessica greeted her respectfully, standing at attention.
"Jessica," Emily replied with a warm smile, looking at the new lieutenant rank on Jessica's uniform jacket. "Congratulations are in order."
Jessica blushed slightly at the mention of her recent promotion. It had been unexpected, but she was grateful for the recognition of her hard work.
"Thank you, ma'am," she replied.
Emily nodded and looked around the room before turning back to Jessica. "I have some information I need to discuss with Mr. Cain."
"Of course," Jessica said, stepping aside to let Emily and her escort into Cain's office.
As they passed by, Jessica noticed that Emily seemed tense. Her usually composed demeanor appeared slightly cracked.
Shaking off her thoughts, Jessica returned to her workstation and continued working while keeping an ear out for any updates.
In Cain's office, Emily took a seat across from him while the Marines positioned themselves strategically around the room.
"I'm glad you could make it here so quickly," Cain said as he settled back in his chair.
"It wasn't easy," Emily admitted with a sigh, running a hand through her red hair. "Brooke insisted on sending an escort with me."
Cain nodded understandingly. Vice President Brooke Bowman was always cautious and would have sent the Marines to accompany her best friend.
"I understand," he replied sympathetically. "The security situation is tense right now."
Emily nodded in agreement, her expression grim. "Yes, it's a dangerous world we live in."
Cain studied her for a moment before getting down to business. "What information do you have for me?"
"I received an encrypted message from one of our sources in Picon," Emily began, pulling out a small datapad from her bag and handing it to Cain.
He quickly scanned through the message, his brow furrowing in concentration. After a few moments, he looked up at Emily with a questioning look.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"I trust this source with my life and the lives of my children, Major Cain," Emily said firmly, locking eyes with him.
Cain nodded in understanding, knowing the seriousness of the situation. "Please, call me Mitchell."
"Of course," Emily replied with a small smile. "As long as you promise to call me Emily instead of Mrs. Tolan."
"Deal," Cain said with a smile of his own.
"Now what do we do about this?" Emily asked, gesturing towards the datapad.
"We need to confirm this information and come up with a plan," Cain replied. "I'll assemble a team to investigate and see if there's any truth to this."
"Good," Emily said, visibly relieved that he was taking action.
Pavo, Canceron:
After an agonizing wait, the Vipers finally sprang to life as the power was restored. The group felt a surge of determination and strength as they prepared for takeoff.
Wallace immediately began giving orders, emphasizing the need for speed before any Cylon patrols detected them. The Vipers roared through the sky, their engines deafening as they headed towards the fleet. Archangel led the pack, with Belcher and Freeman close behind.
As they ascended, Archangel couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline. Flying had always been his passion, but now it held an even greater purpose - saving humanity. He remembered fondly his time as a pilot in the Colonial Fleet, but now he was fighting for more than just his country.
"Let's make contact with the Hunley on the other side of the planet," Wallace's voice crackled through his headset. "Sending encrypted message now."
Archangel anxiously awaited a response so they could complete their FTL jump back to the Ark Royal.
"Hunley acknowledges your message, we'll see you at Amasen," came the reply from Hunley's communications officer.
Cinta Melati declared her preparation of the FTL drive, while the other pilots verified that their coordinates were set. Suddenly, an alarm blared through Archangel's headset and he turned his attention to the DRADIS screen. The DRADIS screen detected a group of Cylon Raiders heading straight towards them.
"Incoming Raiders!" Archangel's voice crackled through the radio, his heart racing as he scanned the skies for the enemy ships. "I'm going to take them out."
Wallace's response was immediate and stern. "Negative, Archangel. The Vipers are too valuable to risk."
But Archangel couldn't stand by and do nothing. He knew he had to protect the fleet at all costs, even if it meant disobeying orders.
With determination in his eyes, he made a snap decision and turned his Viper towards the incoming Raiders. The adrenaline that pumped through Archangel's veins drowned Wallace's protests out. He fired off a burst of shots, taking down one Raider before it could even react. But there were more coming, and he had to act quickly.
Archangel expertly weaved through the barrage of enemy fire, taking out two more Raiders with precision and skill. But as he celebrated his minor victory, he saw another group of Raiders on his DRADIS.
Without hesitation, he flew towards them, ready to engage in another deadly dogfight. The thrill of battle coursed through him as he took down two more Raiders with ease.
But suddenly, a loud boom shook his Viper and alarms blared in his cockpit. Frantically checking his systems, Archangel realized that something was wrong with either his jump drive or engines. His heart sank as he heard Wallace's panicked voice over the radio.
"Get out of there now before Canceron's gravity pulls you in," Wallace bellowed.
Archangel attempted to spool up his FTL drive, but it was damaged from the previous fight. With no other options, he braced himself as his damaged thrusters pushed him closer and closer to the planet's atmosphere.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to maneuver his crippled Viper. Every second felt like an eternity as he fought against the gravity pulling him down.
In a desperate move, Archangel attempted to jump again, but the warning message on his console confirmed his worst fear - the FTL drive was completely nonfunctional.
As he hurtled towards the surface of Canceron, Archangel could only hope that someone could save him before it was too late. Panic began to set in as Archangel realized he was stuck and unable to escape. He desperately tried every maneuver he could think of, but nothing seemed to work. The inexorable pull of Canceron's gravity was getting stronger by the second.
"What the hell is going on?! Archangel, answer me!" Wallace's voice rose in frustration and anger.
"My FTL drive is fried, but I don't know if it's a problem with the engines or the drive itself," Archangel responded, trying to maintain composure despite the overwhelming fear pulsing through his entire body. "I can't make an escape jump."
"Dammit," Wallace growled, his mind racing to find a solution. "Hold tight. I'll think of something, but next time, try listening instead of playing the damn hero!" His words were laced with desperation and frustration.
Time was running out, and Archangel could feel the crushing weight of Canceron's gravity pulling him closer and closer towards its unforgiving surface. Panic surged through his veins, drowning out any rational thoughts as he fought frantically to regain control of his failing Viper. Every nerve in his body screamed with adrenaline, his heart pounding in his chest as the alarms blared relentlessly in his ears. He had never felt so helpless, his once reliable piloting skills now useless against the merciless grip of this planet's gravity.
Archangel's hands convulsed around the controls as his Viper spiraled out of control, plummeting towards the unforgiving surface of Canceron. The rush of adrenaline made his heart pound in his chest as he frantically tried to regain control.
"I have to land this damn thing," he thought, his mind racing through every scenario. The ground rushed up to meet him, the jagged landscape and raging ocean taunting him with their impending destruction. But he couldn't give up - not while there was still a chance to survive.
Olympica:
Penelope El-Bay sat in her lavish suite, known as B-66, high above the Argonne Plaza in Olympica. She looked down at the bustling streets below with a sense of satisfaction and power. Her influence in the criminal underworld was unmatched, and she had worked tirelessly to maintain it.
But now, with news of Mitchell Cain's survival, her carefully crafted empire was under threat. Cain was no ordinary adversary – he was a dangerous force to be reckoned with. El-Bay knew that she needed to act quickly and decisively if she wanted to maintain her position of power.
Standing by her side was Alaric, her trusted lieutenant. A tall and imposing figure with a heavily scarred face from his time in the military, he was fiercely loyal to El-Bay and her organization.
"What are our next steps?" Alaric asked calmly.
"We need to strengthen our connections," El-Bay replied firmly. "We cannot afford any leaks or betrayals."
Alaric nodded in agreement, knowing that he would work tirelessly to uncover any potential threats or informants within their ranks.
"I'll also ensure that our enforcers are on high alert," Alaric added.
El-Bay turned to him with a small smile. "I knew I could count on you."
As they discussed their plans for dealing with Cain's return, a sense of unease settled over El-Bay. She had underestimated him before and it had nearly cost her everything. This time, she vowed not to make the same mistake again.
"We can't afford any surprises," El-Bay declared sternly. "Cain is a threat, and we must neutralize him before he exposes us. Alaric, leave no stone unturned. We need to know every move he makes, every ally he turns to."
Alaric nodded, his determination evident in his eyes. But just as they thought they had a handle on the situation, Volaron, another member of El-Bay's inner circle, spoke up.
"There's something else you should know," Volaron said, his tone serious. "Cain has been digging into a secret faction within the fleet. He may have stumbled upon something big."
El-Bay's mind raced with possibilities. If there was a secret faction within the fleet, it could have ties to influential figures in the criminal underworld.
"We need more information about this secret faction," El-Bay said thoughtfully. "If Cain is onto something, it could shift the balance of power in our favor. Alaric, make this your top priority."
Alaric nodded and immediately began delving into the vast network of information at their disposal. El-Bay knew that time was of the essence – alliances needed to be formed, enemies needed to be eliminated, and secrets needed to be uncovered.
As the meeting concluded and her associates dispersed, El-Bay was left alone in the dimly lit room. The holographic map glowed with information, a visual representation of the intricate web she found herself entangled in. Her criminal empire faced threats from all sides, but she was determined to come out on top by any means necessary.
One potential source of valuable information was the Van Straaten, the library ship where Vice President Brooke Bowman held sway. El-Bay contemplated the risks and rewards of infiltrating such a heavily guarded stronghold, but ultimately decided that the potential for gaining crucial intelligence was worth it. She would stop at nothing to protect her empire and maintain her position as queen of Olympica's criminal underworld.
Despite the looming risks, El-Bay's ambition burned fiercely within her. The potential rewards of uncovering secrets or weaknesses within Bowman's ranks were too enticing to ignore. It could give her and her team a crucial edge in their ongoing power struggle.
She sat back in her chair, her mind racing with plans and strategies. Infiltrating the Van Straaten would require calculated precision – something she prided herself on possessing. And with Alaric's team tirelessly gathering information on Cain and his allies, it could be just what they needed to finally gain an advantage.
With a decisive nod, El-Bay grabbed her handheld device and began issuing orders to her most trusted enforcers. It was time to put their skills to the test once again, for the stakes were higher than ever before.
Olympica:
Meanwhile, across town in an upscale club owned by El-Bay's organization, Cortez Stapleton sat at a private table with his girlfriend Martina Bardin. They were both dressed to impress and sipping on expensive cocktails as they enjoyed the lively atmosphere around them.
Cortez was one of El-Bay's most trusted enforcers, known for his sharp mind and quick reflexes. He had been loyal to her since the day they met, and she had rewarded him generously for his service.
But now, with the possibility of Cain's return, Cortez couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He had heard rumors of Cain's survival before, but dismissed them as mere speculation. It wasn't until he heard about Neriah and Corrine along with El-Bay had contacted him to set up a meeting that he realized that they might be the truth.
"What are you thinking about?" Martina asked, breaking through Cortez 's thoughts.
He turned to her with a small smile. "Just work," he replied cryptically.
Martina raised an eyebrow, knowing that Cortez never discussed his work with her. She also knew that El-Bay was planning something big against Cain and his allies.
"Whatever it is, be careful," Maria warned, placing a hand on Dante's arm.
He nodded in understanding before taking another sip of his drink. As the night went on, Maria could sense the tension building within him and she knew that something big was about to happen.
The next morning, Cortez arrived at El-Bay's headquarters to find her gathered with Alaric and several other top members of their organization. They were deep in conversation when he entered the room.
"What's going on?" he asked, taking a seat next to Martina who had also been summoned.
El-Bay looked at him gravely. "We have confirmed that Cain is alive," she stated bluntly.
Cortez felt a chill run down his spine at those words. He knew that this would change everything and that El-Bay would expect him to play a crucial role in dealing with the threat.
"What do you need me to do?" Cortez asked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.
El-Bay leaned forward, her eyes locked onto his. "We need as much information on Cain and his allies as possible," she said. "I want you to lead a team to infiltrate the Van Straaten and gather any intel you can find."
Cortez nodded in understanding, knowing this would be no straightforward task. The Van Straaten was a library ship, but it was now the residence of the Vice President. The amount of security that would have been added since Bowman made it her base of operations would be a challenge.
"But how will we even get close to them?" Maria chimed in, voicing the question on everyone's mind.
El-Bay smiled, her expression devious. "That's where our newest member comes in," she said, gesturing towards a man who had been quietly observing the conversation from the corner of the room.
The man stepped forward into the light, revealing himself to be Alaric's latest recruit. He was a highly skilled hacker by the name of Trevor Spence.
"I've been working with Trevor for the past few months," Alaric explained. "And I believe he has what it takes to successfully infiltrate the Van Straaten."
Trevor gave a slight nod in agreement before speaking up. "I've already gathered some basic information on their security measures and have found some potential weaknesses that I can exploit," he said confidently.
El-Bay grinned at his boldness. "Excellent," she said. "Cortez, I want you to work closely with Trevor and make sure this mission is successful."
Cortez nodded again and turned to Ethan. "Welcome aboard," he said with a small smile.
As they all began discussing strategy and details of their plan, Cortez couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at this new challenge. He knew that if anyone could successfully infiltrate the Van Straaten, it was him and his team.
Eastern Alliance Basestar Revenge:
Hangar Deck:
Magnus Ah-Mun stood at the edge of the hangar deck, his gaze fixed on the sleek, silver Cylon Raider that had been captured and brought onboard the Eastern Alliance basestar Revenge. Memories from the war flooded back to him as he remembered flying against these very same Raiders, desperately trying to defend his home and people from the relentless attacks.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at the once enemy craft, now a potential weapon in their fight against the Cylons. He turned to face the group of former pilots who had signed up for this risky mission. They were all eager for a chance to fly again, despite the dangers that lay ahead.
"This will be our best shot at gathering intel and taking down Cylon bases," Magnus said, gesturing towards the Raider.
The volunteers nodded, their expressions a mix of determination and nerves.
"We'll have to modify and upgrade it as much as possible," Magnus continued.
The group immediately got to work, discussing strategies and ideas for improving the Raider. Magnus walked over to one of them, a woman named Lena Burton who had been a talented pilot during her time in the Colonial Fleet. She was already deep in thought, sketching out designs on a tablet.
"You ready for this?" he asked her with a small smile.
Lena hesitated before answering, then took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied.
Magnus patted her shoulder reassuringly. "We'll make it work," he said confidently.
Together, they poured all their skills and dedication into modifying the Cylon Raider. Lena's talent impressed Magnus, and he found himself relying on her expertise more and more as they worked late into the night.
As they worked together, Lena opened up to Magnus about how much she missed flying and being a part of something bigger than herself. Magnus could relate; since the war ended, he had struggled with feeling purposeless. Now, with this mission, they both saw a chance to make a difference once again.
The other volunteers also put in long hours and hard work into upgrading the Raider. They modified its weapons systems, upgraded its engines, and installed new communication devices that would allow them to stay connected with the Revenge during their mission.
Magnus looked at their handiwork with pride. "Another weapon at our disposal should we run into the Cylons," he said to himself.
Admiral Kronus had tasked him with finding Fleet Admiral Scott Tolan and the battlestar Colossus, missing since the Battle of Ostarsis. Magnus knew it was a risky mission, but he was determined to find out the truth.
He stood in front of the upgraded Raider, impressed by how formidable it now looked. Beside him, Lena beamed with pride.
"I couldn't have done it without the team," she said.
Magnus nodded in agreement, grateful for their hard work and camaraderie. They had all become a close-knit group, bonded by their shared mission and love for flying.
"I want confirmation on Tolan's status," Kronus had said firmly. "If he's alive, we need to bring him back to the fleet immediately."
Magnus knew this would be a challenging task since Tolan and Colossus had been missing since the Battle of Ostarsis months ago but it felt as though it had been years. As an old soldier to another, he was honor-bound to accomplish the mission Kronus had given him.
The Raider, now upgraded and ready for action, was loaded onto the Revenge's launch tubes. Magnus stood beside Lena as they watched their fellow volunteers board the small ship.
"This is it," Lena said nervously.
Magnus put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We've got this," he reassured her.
He then turned to address the rest of the team. "There's no telling what we may find out there," he warned them. "But I have faith in all of you."
As Magnus watched the volunteers move on to the next Raider, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and hope. The modified Raider would now serve as an air group for the Revenge, backing up the Colonial Fleet in their fight against the Cylons.
But this was just the beginning. Magnus knew that there were still many challenges ahead. Finding Tolan and Colossus was just the first step in their mission to take back their home.
He walked over to the launch controls and prepared to send out the Raider into space. He couldn't shake off a feeling of hesitation, knowing that this could potentially be a suicide mission.
But he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on his duty.
As Magnus inspected the modified Raider, his gaze was drawn to a familiar figure nearby. He recognized her immediately - Cinara Athore, a former member of the ruthless Basileus crime syndicate and now a part of their crew on the Revenge.
He motioned for her to come over to him, but she approached with caution, still not fully trusting Magnus or his intentions.
"What do you need?" she asked warily, crossing her arms defensively.
"I wanted to talk to you about your past," Magnus replied calmly.
Cinara's expression hardened, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you want to know?"
"I know you were a part of the Basileus," he stated matter-of-factly. "The thing is, I don't know much else about your history."
Cinara couldn't help but feel defensive as she thought back on her dark past. "And why do you care?"
"Because we're all a part of this crew now, and I think it's important that we get to know each other," Magnus explained.
After a moment of hesitation, Cinara's shoulders slumped and she released a heavy sigh. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
Magnus leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at her with genuine curiosity. "Why did you leave the Basileus?"
Cinara's expression softened slightly as she thought back on her tumultuous past. "I was just sixteen when I joined them. My family was struggling financially and it seemed like an easy way to make some money."
She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But it wasn't what I expected. The Basileus had no loyalty or honor - they only cared about their own self-interests."
"So why did you stay with them for so long?" Magnus pressed on.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go," Cinara admitted, her voice tinged with shame. "When the Cylons attacked, I saw it as my chance to finally escape Canceron. And when you were looking for volunteers, I knew I couldn't let that opportunity slip away."
Magnus nodded in understanding. "I'm glad you found your way to the Revenge."
Cinara shrugged nonchalantly. "It was either that or die on Canceron, so the choice was pretty clear."
"I'm sorry for everything you've been through," Magnus said sincerely.
"It's all in the past now," Cinara replied, trying to brush off her troubled history. "What matters is that I'm here now and ready to do whatever it takes to help defeat the Cylons."
"Good," Magnus said with a smile. "Because we're going to need all hands on deck for this mission."
Cinara gave a small smile in return, grateful for Magnus's acceptance and understanding. She had been on her own for so long, it was a strange but welcome feeling to be a part of a team again.
"I want you to assist with getting the computer systems of our Raiders linked with the systems we've installed on the Revenge," Magnus said.
Cinara nodded, understanding the importance of this task. "I'll get to work on it right away."
As she made her way to the computer room, Cinara couldn't help but reflect on how much her life had changed since she joined the Revenge's crew. She had gone from being a member of a ruthless crime syndicate to fighting for a cause she truly believed in.
Sitting down at the keyboard, she began working on linking the systems - her fingers flying across the keys with ease and precision. She was so focused on her task that she didn't even notice when Magnus entered the room.
"How's it going?" he asked, watching her work with admiration and respect in his eyes.
Cinara looked up, slightly startled. "Oh, it's going well," she replied with a small smile. "I should have everything linked up soon."
Magnus nodded, his gaze falling on the Cylon technology scattered around the room. "It's still hard to believe that these were once our enemies," he mused, his voice filled with a mix of awe and bitterness.
The room bore all of the hallmarks of Cylon design from the war, but now it had been integrated with Colonial Fleet technology during the process of dismantling their allies' vessels for parts in order to retrofit the Revenge.
"It's strange to see them being used for good," Cinara said quietly.
Magnus turned to face her. "You know," he began, hesitating slightly before continued. "When I first met you, I wasn't sure about having someone from your past on my crew."
Cinara tensed at his words, feeling a sense of unease wash over her.
"But you've proven yourself time and time again," Magnus continued earnestly. "You're one of us now."
A wave of relief washed over Cinara and she smiled gratefully at Magnus. It meant more to her than he could ever know.
"I'm glad to be here," she said sincerely.
Magnus gave her a small smile in return before leaving her to finish her work.
Olympica:
Ministry of Intelligence Headquarters, Interrogation Room:
Kidira and Mozano woke up to find themselves bound to chairs in a small, dingy room. The putrid smell of decay filled their nostrils as they groaned, struggling against their restraints.
"Welcome back," Thompson's voice echoed through the room as she entered, her pistol drawn and pointed directly at them.
"What do you want from us?" Kidira demanded, his voice laced with fear and defiance.
"I want information," Thompson replied calmly, her eyes glinting with a dangerous intensity. "About your organization and your plans."
Kidira and Mozano exchanged a glance, knowing that revealing any information about their criminal activities could mean death for them both. But they also knew that resisting this woman would be futile.
"We are just small-time thieves," Mozano scoffed, trying to appear tough despite the fear coursing through him. "We don't know anything about any bigger plans."
Thompson raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You expect me to believe that you have no knowledge of your organization's operations?"
"It's the truth," Kidira insisted, feeling a sense of desperation wash over him. He knew that if they were caught giving up information, they would be seen as traitors and hunted down by their own people.
"I see," Thompson said with a smirk. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to find out the truth for myself."
With a menacing smile, she pulled out a large brown envelope and removed a photo, holding it up for them to see. Both men's faces drained of color as they recognized the person in the photograph - someone who could make even the most powerful gangster and drug lord tremble in fear.
"You know who he is," she stated coldly.
"He cannot still be alive. He was supposed to be dead!" exclaimed Kidira, his voice trembling with fear.
Thompson's expression turned even more sinister as she nodded. "He's alive and he has been watching your every move."
"Wait, he's here on the Olympica!?" Mozano asked in shock.
Thompson nodded, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Yes, and if you don't tell me what I want to hear, not only will he come after you, but anyone you care about who is still alive. And trust me, his reputation precedes him."
"You can't expect us to just betray our own people," Kidira said defiantly, trying to hide his fear.
"I don't expect anything from you two except cooperation," Thompson replied calmly. "If you'd rather take your chances, that's your choice."
Thompson watched with satisfaction as the two men squirmed in their seats, clearly torn between loyalty to their organization and the fear of facing the powerful figure in the photo.
"Think about it," she said calmly. "Do you really want to risk everything for a group that would turn on you in an instant?"
"Please, we'll tell you everything," Kidira said frantically.
Thompson pulled the photo back and leaned in closer to Mozano's face. "Go on then."
With trembling voices, the two men began to spill all they knew about their organization - a criminal empire led by the ruthless Penelope El-Bey. They had been her loyal henchmen for years, carrying out any illegal activities she demanded of them.
"We don't know anything about her bigger plans or operations," Kidira hastened to add, hoping this would appease the captain.
Thompson listened intently, her expression unreadable. When they finished speaking, she nodded in acknowledgement.
"Thank you for your cooperation," she said coldly.
The two men were released from their restraints and quickly escorted to an examination room where they were treated for their injuries by a medic.
"What happens now?" Mozano asked nervously as he winced from a particularly painful wound being stitched up.
"You will be handed over to Olympica Security," Thompson replied, standing in the doorway with a steely gaze. "And as for Penelope...let's just say we have some unfinished business with her."
With the two men now taken away by Olympica Security, Thompson sat at the small table in the makeshift interrogation room. Her thoughts raced as she waited for Mitchell Cain to join her. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was not quite right with the whole situation. While Kidira and Mozano had revealed valuable information about their organization, Thompson couldn't help but feel like there was more to it than what they had told her.
Mitchell Cain entered the interrogation room, closing the door behind him. Thompson stood up to greet him with a forced smile.
"Excellent work, Whitney," he said with a nod of approval.
"Thank you, sir," Thompson replied, trying to mask her unease.
"It was a team effort once I got the message to you," he said.
"I was glad I had made some connections with Olympica Security," she replied, taking a seat.
"From what I read in your report, you caught them by surprise," Cain said.
"They never expected me and the women played their part perfectly," Thompson added, a hint of pride in her voice.
Thompson couldn't help but feel uneasy about their actions. She remembered her time in Gray on Picon, where she had been trained in advanced interrogation techniques. It was something she swore she would never use. Now, with Kidira and Mozano in custody and facing serious charges, Thompson wondered if they had gone too far.
"I can't help but feel like we may have crossed a line here," Thompson said quietly, avoiding Mitchell's gaze.
Mitchell leaned back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. "You did what you had to do to get the information we needed," he said firmly.
"It just doesn't sit right with me," Thompson replied, shaking her head. "Using those techniques...it's not who I am."
"Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good," Mitchell said, his tone firm and unwavering.
Thompson sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She knew he was right - they had managed to gather important intel that could potentially take down Penelope El-Bey's criminal empire. But at what cost?
"I just hope it doesn't come back to haunt us," she muttered under her breath.
Mitchell finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "What about it?"
"I just...I don't know if we should have used those techniques," Thompson admitted. "What if there's more to their story? What if we missed something important?"
Mitchell sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look Whitney, I understand your concerns but we had to do whatever it takes to get the information we needed."
"But what if there was another way?" Thompson pressed.
"We didn't have time for that," Mitchell replied firmly. "You know how urgent this mission is."
She made her way back to her quarters, needing some time alone to think. As she sat on her bunk, she couldn't help but feel guilty about what they had done. She knew what it was like to be interrogated and how far people could go when they were desperate for information.
She also knew that Kidira and Mozano were involved in criminal activities and could potentially harm innocent people with their actions.
Lost in her thoughts, Thompson didn't realize how much time had passed until there was a knock on her door.
Thompson jumped at the sudden sound, her mind still lost in thoughts. She quickly composed herself and stood up to answer the door.
"Whitney, are you okay?" It was Mitchell, his voice filled with concern.
"I'm fine," Thompson replied, forcing a smile. "I just needed some time alone to think."
Mitchell nodded understandingly. "I know it can be tough sometimes, but we have a job to do."
Thompson nodded, not wanting to reveal her inner turmoil. She knew that Mitchell was right, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt.
As Mitchell left her quarters, Thompson sat back down on her bunk. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind.
Suddenly, there was another knock on her door. This time it was Jessica Jennings.
"Whitney, can I come in?" Jessica asked through the closed door.
"Of course," Thompson replied as she stood up again.
Jessica entered and closed the door behind her before taking a seat across from Thompson.
"I wanted to check in on you," she said kindly. "I know this must have been tough for you today."
Thompson appreciated her concern and had been a tough interrogation, and she still tried to come to grips with what she had done. Now she had the Colonial Fleet liaison here to check up on her. She knew Jessica was a young woman who was for all intents straight out of the Fleet Academy, but she could see the qualities in her that must have helped her get noticed.
"It's just...I've never been involved in an interrogation like that before," Thompson admitted hesitantly. "I mean, I understand why we had to do it...but it doesn't feel right."
Jessica nodded sympathetically. "I can understand that. Interrogations can be tough, especially when you're not used to it."
Thompson sighed, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders as she finally opened up about her feelings. "I just can't shake off the guilt."
"It's natural to feel that way," Jessica reassured her. "But sometimes, we have to do things that may not feel right in order to protect others."
"I know," Thompson said sadly. "It's just hard for me to accept."
"I get it," Jessica whispered. "But you have to remember that Kidira and Mozano are dangerous criminals. They could hurt a lot of people if we don't get information from them."
Thompson nodded, her mind still troubled but slightly more at ease after talking to Jessica.
"Thank you for understanding," she said gratefully.
"Of course," Jessica replied with a smile. "That's what I'm here for."
Thompson sat alone in her quarters, staring at the photo she had used in the interrogation. It was a picture of a man she had once loved and planned to marry.
"Who's that?" Jessica asked, appearing next to Thompson.
"I knew him as Arthur Wallace," Thompson replied, her voice filled with sadness. "And I was in love with him."
Jessica's eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't know you were engaged, but you said you were in love with him?"
Thompson let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, it is not something you broadcast."
"What do you mean?" Jessica asked, taking a seat next to Thompson on her bunk.
"I thought everything was perfect," Thompson explained, taking out her engagement ring from its hiding place under her pillow. "He proposed to me right before he left for his last assignment with the Ministry of Intelligence. And I was over the moon. But then...he never came back."
Jessica listened intently as Thompson continued to told her story.
"At first, I thought something terrible had happened to him...but then today I found out the truth, he was nothing but a liar," Thompson said, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "He wasn't who he said he was. He must have been using me for some purpose...I don't even know what it was."
"I'm so sorry," Jessica said softly, placing a comforted hand on Thompson's shoulder.
"It's okay," Thompson said with a forced smile. "I've moved on from it...or at least I thought I had until today."
"It must have been hard seeing his face again during the interrogation," Jessica said sympathetically.
Thompson nodded, feeling a flood of emotions overwhelming her once again.
"Sometimes I wonder if any of it was real," she whispered, looking down at the ring in her hand, "I trusted him. I had faith in him. I thought he was a good man. My good man."
"And now?"
"Not anymore. I had lost that trust and faith in him! How could I have been so stupid!"
"Well, one thing is for sure...you deserve someone who will treat you right and love you for who you are," Jessica said firmly.
Thompson took a deep breath and made a decision. She was done letting Arthur Wallace, or whoever he really was, have power over her emotions.
"You're right," she said, determination in her voice. "I deserve better than someone who would use me like that."
Jessica smiled proudly at Thompson. "That's the spirit."
Thompson gently placed the ring back in its hiding place, no longer needing it as a reminder of a false love.
"Thank you for being here for me," Thompson said gratefully to Jessica.
"Anytime," Jessica replied with a smile.
They chatted for a few more minutes before Jessica excused herself and left Thompson alone again.
As Thompson sat alone in her quarters, she couldn't help but think about the past and how it had shaped her. She had always been a strong, independent woman, but the betrayal by someone she loved had left deep scars. With a strengthened resolve, took a deep breath and stood up, determined to not let her past control her any longer. She had a job to do and she was going to do it well.
As Jessica walked away, she thought quietly to himself, "He was right, after all…" before knowing whenever he could get back to the Fleet, she would need to inform him.
Mobile Drydock Priam:
Battlestar Victorious, CIC:
Commander Andre Graystone stood at the Command and Control center, his broad shoulders squared as he surveyed the bustling activity of dockworkers below. The Victorious, his beloved battlestar, had endured damage during a fierce battle with the Cylons at Aquaria. Now, under orders from the Admiralty, she was being brought into drydock for much-needed repairs and upgrades.
As he watched his ship being tended to like a wounded soldier, Andre couldn't help but feel grateful for her dedicated crew. They had fought bravely and emerged mostly unscathed from their recent ordeal.
But there was also a tinge of disappointment in Andre's heart. He longed to be back in the thick of battle, leading his crew against the Cylon threat. However, he knew that it was necessary for his ship to receive proper repairs and upgrades. The past few months had taken its toll on both the Victorious and her crew. They needed this time to regroup and rest before rejoining the front lines.
At least they had a temporary home on the Priam - a new class of Mobile Drydock designed to provide maintenance and repairs for battlestars. Andre remembered when this ship and its sisters, Vestal and Neosho, were used for weapons testing before the Cylon attack. It wasn't luxurious, but it would suffice until the Victorious was back in action.
Making his way down to the docking bay where his crew was hard at work unloading supplies from the Victorious, Andre greeted each member with a nod or pat on the back. Despite their fatigue, they worked diligently, knowing that every moment spent in the drydock meant faster repairs and upgrades.
He soon reached his makeshift office where Commander Aicha Kampo was waiting for him with a warm smile. After exchanging pleasantries, she quickly got down to business.
"The Admiralty has decided to use this downtime to make some significant upgrades to our ship," she informed him.
Andre raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"We'll be receiving new weapons systems and an upgraded engine system. It should make us even more formidable against Cylon attacks."
Impressed by the Admiralty's foresight, Andre nodded in approval. He knew that when the Victorious returned to action, it would be stronger and better equipped than ever before.
Just as he was about to settle into his chair, a voice interrupted through the intercom.
"Commander Graystone, you are needed on the hangar deck."
"Duty calls," Andre said with a smile, taking the keys to his office from Kampo and excusing himself.
As he made his way through the corridors of the Priam towards the airlock for the Victorious, his mind raced with possibilities of what could have prompted this sudden summoning. He continued to think this out as he passed through checkpoints manned by vigilant marines until he finally reached his ship. With a quick nod to the guards at the airlock, he stepped onto the Victorious - ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.
Andre's dark eyes swept across the expansive hangar deck, taking in the bustling activity of crew members maintaining and repairing various Vipers and Raptors. The smell of oil and metal filled his nostrils as he walked down the deck, observing the efficient movements of the technicians and pilots. His curiosity was piqued when he noticed that Hangar Bay Four was closed off, with two access doors on either side guarded by stern-faced Marines. He quickened his pace, striding purposefully towards the starboard access door. As he neared it, the sound of drills and hammers echoed around him, punctuated by muffled conversations between crew members.
"Commander Graystone, I'm glad you could join us," a man in a Colonial Fleet uniform said.
"That's me, who are you?"
"Commander Caden Charka, formerly of the Ark Royal," Charka said as he extended a handshake to Graystone.
Andre shook Commander Charka's hand firmly, taking in the man's appearance. Charka was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a strong jaw and piercing eyes. He exuded confidence and experience - qualities that Andre respected in a fellow commander. While he was glad to have a name, he was not sure what his purpose was here on the Victorious.
"Forgive the bluntness, what the frak is going on here?" he asked.
"If you could follow me," Charka said and motioned towards the door that the Marines had opened.
Andre followed Charka through the heavy metal access door, into a vast and dimly lit hangar bay. The space was filled with towering stacks of crates, gleaming equipment, and what appeared to be newly installed weapons systems. A faint scent of oil and machinery lingered in the air. At the far end of the bay stood a group of people - some dressed in Colonial uniforms, others in civilian clothing. Among them, Andre recognized Major Rockwell Alston, the CAG of the Victorious, and Commander Jerome Cyprien from the battlestar Stryker.
As they approached the group, Charka's grin widened. "Welcome to our secret project," he said.
"What secret project?" Andre asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Inside the bay, a team of technicians and deck crew buzzed around a cluster of Vipers. Andre could see that something was different about these craft compared to the ones he was used to flying. They seemed sleeker, more advanced. He wondered if there was something experimental about them.
"These are FTL-capable Vipers that were delivered to us," Charka explained as they drew closer. "If we can get them sorted out and configured to where we can produce more, then this could be a huge win for us."
"Why the Victorious?" Andre finally asked, looking around at the bustling hangar bay.
"Because your ship is going in for refit and repair, perfect place to keep them while we do our research," Charka replied, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Andre's mind raced as he tried to process the information. FTL-capable Vipers? The thought was almost too incredible to believe. He looked around at the others in the group, trying to gauge their reactions. Some, like Major Alston and Commander Cyprien, seemed excited by the prospect. Others, however, appeared more reserved - perhaps even skeptical.
"How is this even possible?" Andre asked, his disbelief evident in his tone.
Charka chuckled. "It's a long story, Commander Graystone. But the short version is that we received a tip from an old friend about a black market dealer who claimed to have these Vipers in his possession."
"And you just took his word for it?" one of the other commanders interjected.
Charka's smile faltered. "No, of course not. We did our research and vetted him thoroughly before making any moves."
"Who is this 'old friend' you mentioned?" Andre probed.
"I'd rather not say," Charka replied evasively. "But trust me when I say that he has never steered us wrong before."
Andre nodded slowly, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of FTL-capable Vipers being in their possession. He couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation at what this could mean for their fight against the Cylons.
The revelation took a moment for Andre to fully process. FTL-capable Vipers? That was a fundamental change for the Colonial Fleet. With the ability to jump within a split second, these Vipers would no longer need to rely on being launched from a larger ship like the battlestars. They could now function independently, just like their Cylon counterparts.
As they walked through the hangar bay, Andre couldn't help but steal glances at the FTL-capable Vipers. They were sleek and formidable-looking, with a dark metallic exterior and a futuristic design unlike any other Viper he had seen before.
"How do they work?" Cyprien asked, breaking the awe-filled silence.
"That's what we're here to figure out," Charka replied, leading them towards one of the Vipers.
The group gathered around as Charka began to explain the basics of the technology. The Vipers were equipped with a modified Raptor FTL drive that allowed them to jump instantly without needing a sublight engine. However, their jumps were limited by the amount of fuel they could carry.
"And that's where our research comes in," Charka said with determination. "We need to find a way to increase their fuel efficiency and range."
"How long do you think it will take?" Major Alston asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Charka shrugged. "There's no telling at this point. But we have some of our best engineers working on it."
Andre couldn't help but feel impressed by the level of dedication and talent within the Victorious crew. With just four FTL-capable Vipers, they were already making strides towards changing the course of this war.
"How did you manage to keep this under wraps?" Andre asked curiously.
"Operational security is always our top priority," Charka replied with a wink. "And besides, we didn't want to raise any false hopes until we knew for sure if these Vipers were even viable for combat."
"Can we take one out for a test flight?" Andre couldn't contain his excitement any longer.
Charka looked hesitant for a moment before nodding. "I suppose one flight couldn't hurt when the time is right."
"That's why I'm here, sir," Alston said before he added, "I'm volunteering to be the test pilot for the first flight."
"How come I wasn't asked for permission?" Andre asked, since Alston was the CAG of his battlestar.
"I looked over the CAGs for all the battlestars and Major Alston stood out," Charka said.
His respect for Alston's piloting abilities was undeniable. Time and time again, Alston had proven himself to be an exceptional pilot, always surpassing expectations. However, as the commanding officer of the Victorious, it was his responsibility to ensure that the most capable officers filled all leadership positions on board. It wasn't just about flying the new Vipers, but also a matter of trust and loyalty. Despite his admiration for Alston's skills, there was something unsettled within him whenever he saw him. Alston appeared relaxed as he chatted with Cyprien and asked questions about the Vipers. But Andre couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye. There was a hunger for recognition and power lurking in his eyes, and it made Andre uneasy. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about Major Alston's intentions that didn't sit right with him.
Raptor 1908, Orbit of Canceron:
The Raptor soared through the vast emptiness of space, its destination set for the moon Ishtar of the nearby planet. Wallace had meticulously studied the schematics of the Basileus' illegal operations and knew this was a crucial location.
As he drew closer to the moon, his keen eyes caught sight of several small ships orbiting a destroyed station. Beyond that, he could see scattered debris on the surface of Ishtar, likely remnants of smuggled goods that didn't make it off the moon before disaster struck.
Carefully navigating through the wreckage, the Raptor activated its stealth mode, concealing itself from any threats. Wallace remained vigilant, ready to react at a moment's notice.
"This is where my plan begins," he thought to himself with determination.
Coming to a stop near the entrance of the station, Wallace prepared to put his next phase into action. He opened a panel on his console and retrieved a device he had been working on for weeks - a modified Cylon transponder with added features of his own design.
With the device activated and sending out a signal towards the debris field, Wallace could only hope that whoever received it would recognize it as a Cylon signature and think nothing of it.
Casting a quick glance at Ensign Lacey Tolan, who still lay unconscious in her seat behind him, Wallace made a decision. She wasn't part of his original plan, but now that she was here, he couldn't let her go. He needed her for what came next.
"Sorry Lacey, but maybe this will turn out to be a blessing," he murmured to her softly, knowing she wouldn't hear him.
Double-checking their jump coordinates, Wallace initiated the sequence and in an instant, they were gone from Canceron and reappeared near the Red Line. This was once the Armistice Line between human-controlled territory and Cylon space.
As soon as they emerged from the jump, Wallace's eyes widened at the sight of a Cylon-war era basestar looming in front of them. Just as he had anticipated - they had been waiting for him. And he would need them for his plan to succeed.
As he pushed the controls forward, the Raptor surged forward, its powerful thrusters propelling it towards the basestar. Wallace could see the Cylon device on board, ready to fulfill its purpose. The exterior doors of the hangar opened, revealing an empty space as the Cylon War era Raiders had been secured. He gently maneuvered the Raptor down to the deck below and powered down the engines. With a press of a button, the hatch opened and he stepped out onto the metal deck.
The interior of the basestar was just as he remembered it from the pictures he had seen in the history books, as well as the schematics and blueprints he had studied over the years since Admiral Stryker had left them to him in his will along with the last time he had met the Cylon agents before the attack - dark, cold and sterile. He could hear the distant hum of machinery and the occasional metallic clanking of Centurions moving about.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hangar bay as Alpha-One, flanked by several centurions, approached him with its metallic voice, "By your command."
Author's Note: With this chapter I can now bring Battlestar Victorious Volume Four to a close. The next update, which has already been started, will be the first chapter of Volume Five. I wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to read, review, and patience for the wait in between chapters. I hope everyone has enjoyed the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.