Chapter Three: The Search Begins
Faststar Robert Smith:
It had been three hours now since the arrival from Fort Milledge on Caprica. MoI officer Whitney Thompson had not been pleased when Major Evan Windsor had ordered her to be transported back to the faststar Robert Smith. Her quarters were an example of the work that had been put into modernizing the twelve Clemson-class faststars when the decision had been made to bring them back to active service.
She removed the jacket she had worn and draped it over the arm of the couch that was along the side of room by the door. She walked over and sat in the office chair in front of the desk where she had arranged her paper work.
'Business can wait,' she thought to herself as she turned on the video screen and brought the keyboard to where she could type on it. A few keystrokes later and the screen flickered as it made contact with the ship her fiancé was on at the Coronis Industrial Shipyard. The yard was in the orbit of Aquaria and was owned by Coronis Industries, itself a front company used by the Ministry of Intelligence.
Moments later, her fiancé's face showed up on the video screen.
"How's work?" she asked.
He shrugged, "We got the Gemenon from the Inactive Reserve not too long ago, I walked the ship and to be honest with you, it's going to take some TLC to get her back to looking respectable."
"I didn't realize that she was in such bad shape," Thompson said.
He held his hands up, "You know you're the only girl in my life, you can do more for me than the Gemenon can."
"Damn right, I'd better be the only girl in your life! Besides, I can do more for you than a battlestar ever could," she said with a sly smile before deciding to ask about Gemenon again, "I take it the last crew did not do such a great job with the decommissioning?"
Her fiancé shook his head, "They either didn't know what to do about it or they simply didn't care. Either way it's my job to get this ship and all these Mark V Vipers fixed up and ready for the trap being sprung for the Erebea."
"You, Arthur Wallace, look like you're having too much fun with this. You're acting like a kid in a candy store," Thompson said with a laugh.
"That's probably because I am; it's nice of the MoI to give me a job I'm excited about. Better this than being stuck on a mission with Major Windbag…I mean Windsor."
"If this wasn't a secure line that comment could get me in hot water with Windsor, besides the fact that he doesn't even know you're my fiancé." Thompson knew going into this mission that there was bad blood between Wallace and Windsor, if he knew that she was engaged to the man he despised then the odds were good that he would do everything in his power to sabotage her career.
Wallace laughed, "We are living dangerously then; exciting isn't it?"
"I thought that trip to visit your home on Aquaria was exciting enough, especially when that storm blew in from the ocean."
"True, but I think I provided you with enough of a diversion to where you didn't mind the storm."
"You are incorrigible," Thompson declared.
Wallace shrugged, "It's all a part of my charm."
"I'm sending you some before and after photos of these faststars they have us on," Thompson said as she took in her more modern looking surroundings. 'Gods, they had to do a lot of work to get you looking like something besides a museum piece.'
"Sounds good, send them over and I'll look at them when I have some downtime. We have another trip to the Inactive Reserve to strip equipment from the battlestars there," Wallace said.
Thompson was intrigued, "Which battlestars are you going to visit?"
"The Deimos, Elektra, Talos, Vindictive, Furious, and the Defiance are on our list to visit for parts. If we need to we also have the Jupiter and Courageous but since both of them are on Active Reserve I doubt we'll get to really take any equipment from them."
"You are going to have fun going over those; I'm sure if they're from the Cylon War you can walk their decks and imagine if Stryker being there."
Wallace smiled, "Yeah, I think that will enter my mind. If it weren't for him I wouldn't have ended up where I am now and then I'd have never met you."
"On that note I'm going to call it a night and let you get back to your boat," Thompson said.
"It's a ship," Wallace corrected.
"Of course it is," Thompson said with a roll of her eyes as she ended the video connection.
Battlestar Libran:
Captain Leonard Harmon and Agent Nessa Gendreau stood in the observation room that looked into the interrogation room where Thomas Carr was handcuffed to a chair behind the only table in the room. Harmon had come over from the faststar Clemson when Windsor had sent him the orders to arrive and Gendreau had managed to get over from the faststar Psara, it seemed that Windsor wanted them here specifically for the interrogation.
"He looks nervous," Gendreau observed.
Harmon nodded his head, "He goes from Fort Milledge to a place he does not recognize, I think Windsor keeping that hood on his head until he arrived here threw him off. He knows he's been transported but he has no idea where he is."
"Probably one of the head games the Major is playing with him puts the ball in our court," Gendreau said.
The hatch swung open and into the room walked Major Evan Windsor, the MoI officer in charge of the group of MoI agents that had been selected for the mission. Instead of an MoI uniform, he instead wore a black business suit that made him look more like a high-priced lawyer or businessman instead of an intelligence officer.
He brought two cups of coffee with him, without saying a word; he sat down across the table from Carr and slid one of the cups towards him.
"That's poison," Carr said.
Windsor smiled, "No, if it were hospital food then you could call it poison. This is the real stuff here, one hundred percent quality Scorpion coffee from Argentum Bay."
"Where am I?" he asked Windsor.
"I'm going to get to that in due time, but first feel free to drink your coffee. I'm sure that time at Fort Milledge must have frozen you all the way down to your bones," Windsor said as he took a sip of his coffee and then produced a brown folder from his jacket, "I forgot my briefcase on the way here so I had to tuck this into my jacket. It's a miracle I was able to keep it from falling out."
"Uh-huh," Car muttered.
Windsor looked hurt, "Now Mr. Carr, going through life without a sense of humor is not good for you. You won't live long if you don't learn to laugh."
"Tell me where I am and I might give it some thought," Carr said with a hard edge in his voice.
"I'm impressed, Mr. Carr, no, truly I am," Windsor began, "You are in a place so unfamiliar you cannot figure out where. You could be in a new government installation somewhere on land, you could be on a ship at sea, or you could even be on a battlestar out in space and that mind of yours cannot decide which one."
"Is this some kind of game to you?" Carr asked, his voice slipping from its cocky demeanor.
Windsor leaned forward and his eyes fixed on Carr's, "A game, no, you see this is my job. A job that I am quite good at and one I take rather seriously."
"I'm lost," Carr said with a look of genuine confusion, "What is your job?"
"I'm in the information business, and my job is to acquire whatever information I am asked to collect."
"So you want information of mine, how does that make me so important to you?"
"Mr. Carr, who said you were important? If it weren't for my job I would not even know you existed, that is how insignificant you are to me. What is probably the only thing significant to me is what's in that brain of yours…or what little is left of it after a life I'm sure has been spent in an alcohol-induced fog," Windsor said as he opened the envelope and produced a piece of paper.
"This is a deal authorized by Attorney General Natalia Russell herself," Windsor said as he pointed to the paper he had laid on the desk in front of Carr, "In exchange for your cooperation with us you will be given a pardon once our mission is complete."
Carr looked up at him, "What mission, just who are you?"
'Guess I can put some of my cards on the table,' Windsor thought to himself before he said, "My name is Major Evan Windsor and I am with the Ministry of Intelligence."
"You're lying, the Ministry of Intelligence has a reputation for being more extreme with their methods," Carr said.
'Gods, this idiot has watched one too many spy movies,' Windsor said to himself as he pulled out his MoI credentials, "See right there, Mr. Carr, it says Evan Phillip Windsor and that little insignia you see making up the background is the one for the Ministry of Intelligence. So, before you say something, know that I can get as extreme as I need to be. I'd rather do this nicely, this is an expensive suit and I'd hate to get it dirty with blood and other assorted items."
Carr was quiet, as though he was pondering what might lie ahead for him if he did not cooperate. "What do you want to know?"
Sago Station:
Cinta Melati stood at the railing overlooking the group of recruits from the last 'recruiting drive' the Erebea had initiated. While the Erebeaprided itself on being a pure Tauron fighting force, the destruction of the bulk of the group's members had caused a new line of thinking. Melati knew that, at least for now, they would have to take whatever they could get in terms of new members until the day came when they could purify their ranks with those of Tauron blood.
"Cubit for your thoughts?" James Thorn, Melati's second-in-command and trusted advisor asked.
"Thinking of how far we've fallen since the Colonial Fleet engaged us," Melati said with disgust. It pained her that an organization was forced to take whatever thug or mercenary that expressed an interest.
"This is a lean period for us but it's not as hopeless as it seems," Thorn said before adding, "We can still appropriate ships that we can convert for our own uses and we still have the weapons cache Renior had stored away for just such an occasion. Not to mention the millions of cubits that were hidden away."
Melati allowed herself a slight smile, "The foresight of the Erebea's founders."
Back during the early days of the group, after they had splintered away from the Tauron military over the Articles of Colonization dispute, the group's founders had come up with a plan to finance their operations. A fund had been set up under a shadow company where a portion of the group's money was put aside as a fallback option if a worst-case scenario were to take place. Admiral Pierre Renoir had started a weapons cache when he first took charge of the Erebea to allow for rearmament in case something should happen.
"Our people recently bought a group of merchant ships from Delvia Shipping that we can turn into privateer vessels. They should be delivered here within the hour. Of course, the official story is that we're going to scrap them," Thorn said.
"You are valuable to me, James, without you I might not have been able to get us to where we are right now," Melati said, her Tauron accent thickening up noticeably, "I want you to handle the introduction this time. I need to make a phone call."
Thorn simply nodded and walked towards the stairs to walk down to the level below and begin the official welcome of the group to the Erebea.
Melati headed down the corridor and turned to an elevator that required a card key, which she produced from the pocket of her uniform pants. Once she was inside and the doors closed the pressed the button for the top floor, like in most of these older science stations, the quarters and office for the station's commander were located on the top floor of the facility.
As the elevator began to work its way to the top she took the time to reflect on what her life could have been like if things had been different for her.
Her parents had amassed a considerable fortune on Tauron, but their businesses were wiped out with the ratification of the Articles of Colonization. The cheaper costs of doing business with the poorer colonies proved to be fatal and they lost all they had. That was a driving force behind her joining up with the Erebea. At least the splinter group of the Tauron military knew where their loyalty lay, and perhaps there was a chance that one day the damage done by the Articles could be undone and life could go to what it was like before the Cylon War. Twelve independent worlds left to their own devices and a chance to forge their own destinies, it did hold a certain appeal to her.
She sat at her desk and let out a long sigh, the hours spent rebuilding the Erebea had taken a lot of her energy but it was something that had to be done. She was after all Cinta Kasih Melati, the daughter of Dian Melati, and her whole life had been spent defying the odds.
She opened a secure phone line and dialed the mobile number she had been given by the person she was know calling. It would be somewhat of a business call but there was a certain pleasure to it as well.
A few rings later and the man answered, "If it isn't Cinta Melati herself; this is a welcome diversion."
"William Savedge, you are a mix of business and pleasure," Melati said as she allowed a small smile.
"I'm glad I can provide you with both," Savedge said.
"I suppose I'll get the formality out of the way. How are things proceeding with my battlestar?"
There was a pause, "Work is coming along just fine, nothing out of the ordinary for a weapons dealer such as myself." Savedge was the cover identity for Arthur Wallace, a cover that a lot of work had gone into producing.
Libran:
Commander Nicholas Tattnall read over the morning dispatches that he had received from the faststars that were standing guard to give the Libran an outer defensive ring. He had seen the reports of how these ships had been taken out of reserve with their interiors looking like they had that Cylon War era feel. Now they had been given a complete modernization and were decidedly up to the standards of the modern Colonial Fleet.
There to be twelve of the Clemson-class faststars assigned to protect the Libran. Only five of the twelve had been finished, the Robert Smith, Clemson, Asturias, Velos, and Psara. The rest would follow as soon as the modernization could be finished on them.
A letter from Picon Fleet Headquarters was included among the dispatches. He looked and saw that the Libran and its faststars now had a homeport to call their own. The Colonial Fleet was setting up one of its Cylon War spaceports that had been in disuse since the end of the war as a port for the Libran. It was currently being towed to the Palomar Sector.
The hatch on the door spun and when the door opened Evan Windsor stepped into the room.
"You know Major, most people announce their presence or send word that they're going to be visiting," Tattnall said.
"Right. Well, Commander I will be coming to visit you shortly. Does that do the job?" Windsor asked.
Tattnall let out a sigh, "It'll have to do for now. What brings you to my modest quarters?"
"We have a plan of attack now that Mr. Carr has been quite generous with his information," Windsor said as he produced a piece of paper out of his suit jacket.
"Where are we heading?" Tattnall asked, his irritation with Windsor having waned in light of this new information.
Windsor walked over and slid the paper over to Tattnall, "Ontarus Sector, near the Korax Nebula, seems to be the first in a string of bases that should bring us closer to the Erebea's main base of operations."
"Do you have any intelligence on what we can expect there?" Tattnall asked.
Windsor shook his head, "We may want to task a couple of the faststars to do some reconnaissance for us. I doubt the base will be too much trouble for us."
"I appreciate the optimism, but I'd rather know what we're going up against before I commit my people to a battle," Tattnall said as he pondered what they might find at the base.
MoI Lieutenant Brooke Carlson walked into the room, drawing an inquisitive look from Windsor and an annoyed look from Tattnall. It seemed to him that the Ministry of Intelligence officers were lacking in etiquette.
"Major, we just received a Code Orange message from headquarters," Carlson said. The Ministry of Intelligence was headquartered on Picon in the city of Gray; there was always a certain level of mystique to the facility that became the basis of many rumors and urban legends.
"What is it?" Windsor asked as he took the message from Carlson.
"Anything of interest?" Tattnall asked.
Windsor shook his head, "Nothing that seems relevant to our mission. If it becomes relevant you'll be the first to know."
"Right, well I'm going to the CIC to organize our reconnaissance mission. I'll let you know when we have information for you and your people," Tattnall said as he stood up and straightened his uniform jacket.
CIC:
Tattnall entered the CIC and immediately went to the Communications Station where Lieutenant James Ward was on duty.
"Mr. Ward, establish a connection to the Robert Smith. I need to speak to Colonel Baines," Tattnall said.
"Establishing link now," Ward said as he began to hail the Robert Smith.
"I have Colonel Baines," he said as he handed the receiver to Tattnall.
"This is Actual," Tattnall said.
"I am curious as to why you called for me, Commander," Colonel Arleen Baines was one of the two officers who would command the two groups of six faststars.
"I'm sending you a set of coordinates the MoI have provided me that should be the location of an Erebea base. I need you to take your faststars there and scout for me so we can know what we're going to be up against," Tattnall said.
"We can leave within the hour; send the coordinates and we'll begin preparations," Baines said.
"Good hunting out there, Colonel Baines, we'll see you and your faststars when you return," Tattnall said and then he motioned for Ward to sever the connection.
Faststar Robert Smith:
"Action stations, Action stations. Set Condition One throughout the ship, this is not a drill," the voice of the tactical officer said as he made the announcement over the ship's 1MC.
Whitney Thompson jumped to attention as she was jettisoned from the world of sleep she had been in.
"What's going on?" she asked even though she was the only one in the room.
She threw her clothes on and left the room, she tried to navigate through the maze of corridors as the ship's crew made their way to their respective duty stations.
She ascended the various stairways and made her way forward of where her room had been located. It was then that she saw the metal door with the words 'CIC' stenciled in black.
She opened it and saw that the occupants of the room looked calm; Colonel Baines in particular was going over something with the XO.
"Is this some kind of drill?" Thompson asked as she walked over to where Baines and the XO were standing.
Baines was a woman in her early forties with tan skin, hazel eyes, and brown hair that seemed to be short enough to make a boot camp drill instructor happy.
"We just received orders from the Libran, it seems your Major Windsor has found us a target of interest," Baines said coolly.
"I wish you had given me a heads-up on it instead of waking me up so suddenly with the call to Action Stations!"
"I had assumed you MoI types shared everything so you'd have already known well before Commander Tattnall knew something," Baines said with the same cool voice she had used before.
"Well next time you might want to lay off the assumptions," Thompson felt her temper rising so she decided to take it down and not let the situation flare up, "What's our destination?"
"The Ontarus Sector. We're going to scout ahead and see what the Erebea have there, if they're even there at all."
Thompson's eyes went wide, "That's not far from Canceron space, and I'd have assumed they'd stay near Tauron since that's where they originated from."
"It seems the Erebea are trying to go against the conventional thinking. Perhaps you and your people might want to lay off of the assumptions as well," Baines said.
Thompson was going to say something but Baines was already talking to her XO again. All she could do was go over to Tactical and see what was going on from there. The small CIC felt cramped enough, and being at Condition One meant she was going to have to endure the close confines with an officer who did not seem to care much for having her onboard.
"Colonel, FTL drive is online and ready for use," Lieutenant Celeste Lindsey announced from her tactical station.
"Very well, when all ships report ready for FTL jump we'll start our reconnaissance of the Erebea base," Baines said.
"Do you think we'll run into any trouble?" Thompson asked.
Baines shrugged her shoulders, "No telling; if everything works out then we'll have little to worry about. If all else fails we can jump away and let the Libran come and put its weapons and air wing to use."
"Colonel, all ships have reported in. We are ready for FTL jump," Major Terrell Whitaker reported.
"Commence FTL jump in 3…2…1…," Baines said and moments after the five faststars jumped away from the Libran to the coordinates for the Erebea base.
Libran, CIC:
"Commander, the faststars have jumped away," Lieutenant Lancelot Freyburg reported.
"Thank you, Mr. Freyburg," Tattnall said before turning his attention to Freyburg, "Mr. Ward, we'll keep a channel open in case they run into trouble, in the meantime I want to commence flight operations. We'll hope for the best and prepare for the worst,"
Colonel Susan Minerva, the Libran's XO, walked to the Command and Control Station where Tattnall was standing, "Are you sure we should conduct flight operations when there is a chance we may need our air wing for a battle?"
"Does it seem risky to you?"
"I see the point of going on in a business-as-usual way but this doesn't seem to be an ordinary assignment?"
"I figure we have a window of maybe ten minutes or so before we get reports, I doubt the Erebea is powerful enough to jam communications," Tattnall said as he mentally prepared himself for the possibility that he would have to go into battle.
Ontarus Sector:
Robert Smith:
"All ships have completed the jump, by the looks of things we seem to be out of DRADIS range," Lindsey announced.
"I want all ships to immediately start taking reconnaissance photos and video, the sooner we get this done the faster we can be out of here before the Erebea know we're here," Baines said.
Thompson stood by Lindsey's station and watched as the surveillance equipment installed on the faststars went to work. A nearby screen suddenly began to show the various photos of the large installation that the Erebea was using as a base of some sort.
'Could it be the main one?' she thought to herself before she dismissed it out of hand. The Erebea probably had to be off the proverbial well-worn path to have survived for three years after having their forces practically wiped out by the Tenth and Fifteenth Fleets.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the panicked voice of Lindsey.
"Colonel, I am detecting multiple DRADIS contacts off the port beam of the Clemson," Lindsey called out in shock at the sight of the cluster on the DRADIS screen.
"Are they friendly?" Thompson asked and suddenly kicked herself for asking. If this was an area controlled by the Erebea then the odds were good that they were looking at enemy contacts.
"All ships turn port to face them head on, I want weapons ready to fire on my order," Baines called out to the personnel in the CIC.
"DRADIS signatures match the Brecon-class repair ships from the Cylon War," Lindsey called out.
"That's a holdover from the Cylon War?" Baines asked aloud before turning her attention back to Lindsey, "Have their weapons gone hot?"
"Negative, no heat signatures that can be detected," there was a pause before she added; "They are holding position fifty yards away from us."
"What are they trying to do?" Baines asked.
"It doesn't feel right," Thompson said as she walked up to Baines, "They have to have recognized who we are and that we're not here to sell them magazine subscriptions."
"Let's get what information we've already gathered and get out of here; I just have a bad feeling about this."
Thompson nodded her head, "I agree, Colonel. Let's get back to the Libran and see where we stand."
Before the Erebea ships could fire a shot the five faststars had jumped away from the sector and back to the safety of the Libran.
Fourteen Hours Later:
Libran, War Room:
Lieutenant Lancelot Freyburg and the MoI personnel that were still stationed onboard the Libran joined Tattnall and Minerva in the War Room. For the moment, Whitney Thompson was the only agent not on the Libran, since only five of the faststars had been put back into service.
"Tactical has finished our analysis of the information gathered by the faststars and it looks like this target has changed since Thomas Carr was there," Windsor said as he pressed a button that brought up several of the images gathered during the mission.
"What have your people learned?" Tattnall asked.
"It seems that somehow the Erebea have come across various Cylon War era ships, mainly used by the Fleet during the war and were listed as having been disposed of by scrapping. Somehow our Tauron friends have acquired and armed them," Windsor said as he pressed a button that brought up the image of one of the vessels that had been encountered, "You are looking at a group of five Brecon-class repair ships. We have decided to run the available data through the Colonial Fleet Vessel Registry and came across the names of the vessels. You are looking at the Amantia, the Daedala, the Napata, the Tjaru, and the Tharros. They have been placed in service of the Erebea somehow and we have yet to figure out why."
"What I wonder about is how the Erebea didn't change the names of the ships," Leonard Harmon said.
"Bad luck," Tattnall said and then saw that some of the MoI personnel did not understand what he meant, "To those of us in the Colonial Fleet or in the planetary naval forces it is considered a bad omen to change the name of a ship after it's been christened and brought into service. I'm sure the Erebea feel the same way about name changes."
"Does that mean you're one of those superstitious types?" Brooke Carlson asked.
"I have no real comment on that but let's just say I don't want to tempt fate and leave it at that," Tattnall said.
"Do you believe you have the resources to mount an attack on this station?" Windsor asked.
Tattnall thought about it before responding, "Not at this moment. We have five faststars and one battlestar and I have no idea just what the Erebea have there waiting for us. I'd rather wait until we have those seven other faststars to add to our arsenal. Not to mention it will give us time to train the air wing further."
"When will you have those ready?" Harmon asked before Windsor had the chance to ask the same question.
"Give me a few minutes and I will find out for you," Tattnall said before turning his attention to Freyburg, "Mister Freyburg, do you have any information as to who is in charge of the reactivation of our faststars?"
"Yes sir, give me a moment to bring it up…" Freyburg said as he consulted a set of notes he had with him.
"We don't have all day, Lieutenant," Windsor said, which only served to get an annoyed look from Tattnall directed his way.
"The seven ships are at the Lampetia Shipyards undergoing reactivation under the eye of a Lieutenant Colonel Jerome Cyprian," Freyburg said.
Tattnall walked over to a nearby phone and pressed a button on the receiver, he spoke his orders to the Communications Officer and it was not long before he had a connection with the person he was looking for.
"Colonel Cyprian, this is Commander Tattnall of the Libran. I was wondering how long it would be before our seven faststars were done with their modernization and overhaul," Tattnall said and waited patiently while Cyprian went over the details that had been requested.
"Thank you, Colonel, I'll let you get back to your work," Tattnall said before placing the phone back into its receiver.
"What's the verdict?" Windsor asked.
"We have five to eight months before the work will be finished on all seven of the faststars," Tattnall said to Windsor.
The work being done on the Warrington, Gerhardt, Aspis, Kanaris, Sigourney, and Palaiologos had already commenced.Like two of the other Clemson-class faststars selected for reactivation, the Rathburne and the Cassin, the Ariadni was found to be in worse materiel condition than thought, so it necessitated the reactivation of yet another decommissioned faststar. A sister ship, the Chatham, was pulled from reserve and used instead. If all worked out then the twelve faststars would provide a ring of defense around the Libran to protect it from most of what the Erebea could throw its way.
"There's no telling how much more fortified they can make the station," Windsor said as he moved the subject back to the intelligence reports, "It looks like a Cylon War era command station that the Erebea has somehow bought off the scrap market. It's been brought up to what we believe is maximum strength, meaning its armament has been put in place again and judging by what we've seen this is Colonial Fleet issue weaponry that's been added. It means that attacking the base is going to require the effort of every ship in our force. We can try to attack now. Commander but it is going to be costly, or we can wait until we have the ships and then use that time to plan a more detailed attack that should keep damage and casualties to a minimum."
Tattnall did not even have to think it over, "We wait and plot our attack. When we have the last of the faststars in our battle group we make the jump and carry out our attack."