BS Heart of Storm

"Raptors away, Admiral. Let's hope they find some tylium," Jonathan said, his tone tight with unease.

I exhaled slowly, watching the DRADIS screen as our scouts disappeared into FTL.

Our tylium situation was… bad.

No. Bad was an understatement.

We had enough fuel for maybe twenty jumps. And that was being generous.

The Heart of Storm and her fleet were supposed to rendezvous with a support battle group for resupply.

That was a two days ago.

And the rendezvous point?

A massacre.

Nothing left.

I dragged a hand down my face, forcing down the frustration, the helplessness.

We were running on fumes.

At least there was one silver lining.

The Deep Sunlight, one of Elizabeth's pirate freighters, had enough food to last a year.

Tylium?

We'd be lucky to last a month.

I straightened, turning to Galen.

"Turn off all nonessential systems. We need to conserve fuel. Have Elizabeth's ships do the same."

Galen gave a sharp nod and strode toward the communications station.

Next, I turned to Alex. "What's the state of Elizabeth's ships?"

His expression darkened. "Could be worse, I guess."

I didn't like the sound of that.

"First problem? Missile launchers are completely offline." He let out a short breath. "Figures. They didn't take care of them—how could they? It's not like they had access to missiles."

I folded my arms. "And their systems?"

Alex grimaced. "Could be better, but most are still functional. TheEndeavor'stargeting computers, though? Completely offline."

That caught my attention.

"The gunners have to aim manually—no range calculation, no lock-on assistance, nothing."

I swore under my breath.

That was a death sentence in a real fight.

"And the Dauntless?"

Alex let out a dry chuckle. "She's got power issues. That's why she was going to be scrapped in the first place."

Great.

Two crippled pirate warships, and fuel running out.

Frak me.

I took a deep breath, dreading the answer to my next question. "What problems?"

Alex sighed. "Her engines like to shut off randomly."

I stared at him. "What."

"Engineers at Scorpia couldn't find the reason," he continued, rubbing his temples. "And since it was just an old cruiser, they decided to scrap it instead of figuring it out."

I clenched my jaw.

So, both ships were useless in combat. Perfect.

At least theEndeavorcould carry fighters.

Wait. Did it even have any?

I turned back to Alex. "Does theEndeavorhave any Vipers or Raptors?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Eleven MKIIs."

I groaned.

MKIIs? And tended by pirates. . . . Oh boy.

"And the station?"

Alex checked his tablet. "Four cargo Raptors."

I ran a hand through my hair. What now? I need to cheek that later.

"And the station, can we salvage anything from it or it just worthless husk?"

I asked, hoping for some good news.

Alexshook his head."Nope. Old age and neglect left it worthless. The systems barely function. We could salvage raw materials from it, but not much. The assembly crew says there's enough for about 20 Phalanx turrets, 8 heavy flak turrets or 4 Vipers."

Inodded."Okay. Can we do anything with Elizabeth's ships?"

He shook his head again. "Not really. For theEndeavor, we'd have to replace the entire targeting system—that would take months. And for theDauntless?"

He let out a sharp exhale."Hell if I know, sir. We still don't know why it does what it does."

I sighed. "Alright. What weapons do they have?"
He handed me a tablet with the weapons report.

Dauntless
Weapons:
2/2 medium turrets(Fore: 2/2)
10/10 light turrets(Port: 5/5, Starboard: 5/5)
0/10 medium missile silos(Dorsal: 0/10)
20/20 single Phalanx PD turrets(Port: 10/10, Starboard: 10/10)

Endeavor
Weapons:
8/8 light turrets(Port: 4/4, Starboard: 4/4)
0/6 light missile silos(Fore: 0/6, Stock: 0/12)
10/10 single Phalanx PD turrets (Port: 5/5, Starboard: 5/5)

I dragged a hand down my face.
Then I smacked my forehead.
Frak.
I completely forgot how little PD coverage they have.
They wereeven more useless than I thought.

At least, the Endeavor could be used as a scout ship or light carrier.

Not much, but better than nothing.

I exhaled sharply, still scanning the weapons report. A handful of light turrets, barely any PD coverage, and not working missiles silos.

I looked up at Alex. "Can we get Dauntless' missile silos online?"

He frowned, considering. "Yes, but it would take time and electronics."

I nodded. "Good. Send the personnel needed to do it, along with supplies."

He saluted, and I returned it with a sharp nod. "You're dismissed."

As Alex left, I let out a long breath.

Two crippled pirate warships. A fleet low on fuel.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose and made my way to my quarters.

Time to figure out what the frak a Cargo Raptor even is.

10 Minutes Later – Admiral's Quarters

I scrolled through the fleet database, tapping through old specs and maintenance logs.

Huh.

So that's what it was.

A Cargo Raptor was just a 15-meter ship designed to carry containers or other cargo using a magnetic lock.

And the only reason it was even called a "Raptor" was because its cockpit was nearly identical to a standard Raptor.

Cargo Raptors weren't built for combat, but they could be used for supply runs, salvaging wrecks, or even moving emergency ammunition between ships.

A surprise to be sure but a welcome one

And we had sixteen of them onStorm.

Eight in each, small hangars on the sides of the fly pods.

I drummed my fingers on the desk.

A Cargo Raptor could easily carry a Viper or Raptor.

But how the frak were we supposed to get them out of wrecked ships?

Cutting a hole? Out of the question. Too slow, we need to move fast.

We'd probably need a generator to power the lift.

I frowned, drumming my fingers on the desk. Who the hell would even handle this?

Alex?

He was an engineer, sure, but… not a salvager.

Was salvager even the right word?

I sighed, leaning back in my chair.

Maybe Elizabeth would know more about it.

She was a pirate, after all. If anyone knew how to strip a ship clean fast, it'd be her.

I'd need to ask her.

I checked the clock.

Food first.

I hadn't eaten in… fuck, how long?

Just as I pushed myself up from my chair—

The alarm blasted through the ship.

I froze and sigh.

"Fuck me."

I ran toward the CIC, my boots pounding against the deck.

Inside, the room was already a controlled mess. Officers moved between stations, voices overlapping, but everything was still running smoothly.

My XO, Galen, was waiting for me.

"Report."

"Sir, one of our Raptors just jumped back. They found civilian ships."

I stayed silent for a few seconds.

More people. More ships.

On one hand? More manpower, more hulls.

On the other? More mouths to feed. More fuel used. More chances for a Cylon agent to slip in.

I exhaled. No choice but to deal with it.

"Send a Raptor with our coordinates, but tell the pilot to hold position. They don't jump until we either send another Raptor to confirm… or Cylons show up."

I took a breath. "And someone get me some food."

Galen nodded, frowning slightly, but relayed the message.

A Marine approached and handed me a ration pack. I gave him a short nod of thanks before tearing it open.

As Galen finished the transmission, I took a bite of a stale protein bar and turned to him.

"How many Marines do we have?"

Galen raised an eyebrow. "About one hundred and fifty."

I nodded slowly. "I'm worried those civilian ships are being tracked."

His brow furrowed. "If they were tagged, why are they still alive?"

I exhaled sharply. "Because they're waiting. If the Cylons tagged them, they wouldn't wipe them out immediately. They'd follow them, let them collect survivors, gather a bigger group—then strike when it hurts the most."

Galen tried to speak, but all that came out was a quiet, uneasy, "Frak."

I swallowed another bite, eyes locked on the DRADIS. "Yup. That's why we're stripping the station bare first send the engineers there."

Then I turned, and ordered

"And get me, Captain Elizabeth. On the phone."

Galen nodded and relayed the order. A few minutes later, he handed me the receiver.

I took a breath. "Captain Elizabeth, sorry to take up your time, but I need your help with something. Would you mind coming aboard the Storm when you have time?"

I phrased it carefully. Ordering her? Bad idea.

Elizabeth's POV

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the request.

Interesting.

He's asking. Not demanding.

Smart man.

She leaned back in her chair, smirking slightly as she responded. "Sure, why not, Admiral? See you soon."

Admiral Sarata POV

One problem down.

Now onto the next one.

I turned to Galen. "Gather the CAG. I want our pilots running drills—dogfighting against Cylon tactics. Bring in the Endeavor's pilots too."

He nodded, already making notes.

"And we need to talk about the Cylon Basestars." I tapped a data pad and handed it to him. "I went through the battle logs and pulled what I could on them. Take a look—tell me if I missed anything."

Galen skimmed the screen briefly before nodding. "Understood, sir."

I took a breath, my mind racing.

Then it hit me.

The destroyed Basestar.

I cursed under my breath. How the frak did I forget?

If we were lucky, there would still be Cylon bodies inside.

Perfect.

"Send a Raptor with engineers to examine the destroyed Basestar." I turned back to Galen, urgency creeping into my tone. "If we're lucky, we'll find something worth it."

If we were really lucky, we'd find the bodies.

A comms officer called out from across the CIC. "Sir, the Dauntless is requesting a Raptor to pick up Captain Elizabeth."

I sighed. "Send one."

I turned to leave. "I'll be in my quarters. Have her sent there."

I walked through theStorm'scorridors, lost in thought.

Then a random thought hit me.

Why the frak is there so much glass inside this ship?

Whose bright idea was that?

That sounds like an awful design choice.

Could I change it?

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in my quarters, barely remembering the walk here.

Time sure flies when you're overthinking.

I looked up as the door slid open.

Elizabeth stepped inside.

"Captain." I nodded at her.

She gave me a measured look. "Admiral."

I got straight to the point. "I need your help."

I leaned forward slightly. "In the future, we're going to need to salvage destroyed Colonial warships. The problem? Most of the time, we won't much of it. The Cylons will likely send regular scout ships to patrol wrecks, waiting for people like us."

I met her gaze. "Any ideas?"

Elizabeth POV

"Endeavor."

She watched as the Admiral's eyebrow rose.

"I guess you already read about its problems."

Sarata nodded.

"Good. So you know it's useless in a straight fight, but it still has an operational hangar and launch tubes. Send it instead of Storm—less risk that way."

The Admiral nodded again, considering.

"Let's say we load up four Cargo Raptors. There's still the main issue—how do we salvage anything from a flight pod?"

"Hope there's still power? And if not, bring a generator for the lift?" Sarata suggested.

Elizabeth smirked. "No. Just have the Endeavor jump close to the flight pod and rip a hole in it."

Sarata blinked. "What."

She leaned forward, grinning.

"Sure, it'd destroy some equipment inside, but here's the trick—launch the Raptors before the jump, have them sit at a safe distance, then move in afterward. Start collecting the equipment, store it somewhere easy to retrieve—just not outside."

"If the Cylons notice a wreck with a hole in it? They won't think twice. Just another explosion from battle damage. Nothing suspicious."

She smiled.

Sarata just stared at her, dumbfounded.