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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:37:21 GMT -6
Charybdis A bright light, fuzzy, then clear, then fuzzy again. Spots all over as well.
I could feel some pain in my head, in my eyes and generally all over my body. Pain, I could feel pain! That meant that I was actually alive!!!! A wave of relief crossed my mind.
I tried to squint through the tiny slits that my eyes were. My left eye didn't seem to get with the program. My right eye however showed me lying on a bunk in the Med Lab, I think. People running all over. Yelling. Screaming.
Then the familiar sound of Doc BKJ and Capt. holodoc tending to patients....
What had happened??? Why was I here???
I felt something grab my hand, as I turned to look over, I could make out that it was Lt. Finky. She was sort of smiling and bending over me asking me something, but I could not quite make it out. It appeared that my left ear could not hear anything. My right ear could make out rudimentary voices, just enough to let me know what some of the things around me were.
"Colonel? are you OK?" Finky asked nervously as she clutched my hand. "Nurse, the Colonel is coming to!" she yelled.
I remembered being on the bridge, then a flash of light and then, nothing...
My body suddenly stiffened, I think I had been hit! * * * LucianG Captain Urdea and Lieutenant Proteus sat in Urdea’s office with Captain Lucian. He’d filed his complaint, and the two Security Officers asked a number of questions. Finally, Urdea said, “Lucian, will check it out. Most all of our Security forces are assisting with the recovery and repair efforts at the moment, so it may take some time to solve your mystery, but we’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks, Urdea,” he said as he clasped arms with the older officer. “I heard you had a real time of it at Pangara. Good job!”
“First time I’d flown a real Viper in 27 yahrens, but all those hours in the SIM staying flight certified paid off,” Urdea replied. “Still, we lost too many good Warriors. Far too many.”
“And too many shipmates, too,” said Proteus, who had never been a Warrior despite his meeting the qualifications. Lucian had wondered about that previously, why someone extremely well qualified according to testing would instead choose to work Security rather than as a Warrior. While almost all the younger people aspired to become Warriors, some few just felt that flying Vipers was too dangerous; maybe Proteus was one of those. Lucian shook his hand and politely thanked him, too, and then made his way back to Science and Engineering to check status of other repairs around the ship. * * * The damaged console that had pinned Colonel Charybdis had been removed, and a new one was currently being assembled and tied into the ship’s systems. Its surface unfinished, its access panels were open and tremendous numbers of wires and optic cables were protruding from it, some bundled and tied. The Systems Tech in charge of the operation had told Major Joey that it would be another cycle before the console was complete and communications were fully restored. Restored, that is, if there were no other problems yet to be located.
Sheba looked over the damage reports. Her ship had been lucky to escape the Cylon trap, but had suffered severe damage in the process. So far, the Med Lab head reported over twenty dead in the makeshift morgue in the Main Rec Room, though there was a strange unexplained report that was being investigated. More bodies were reportedly being located from time to time, as damaged compartments were cleared. The recovery effort was particularly nasty business, but it had to be done, and had to be concluded quickly. She made her decision.
“We must have a brief memorial service for our fallen comrades near end of First Shift tomorrow, let’s say at 08:75, and won’t last more than 25 centons or so into Second Shift. That should give us time to recover our dead. It will be handled by ship wide video via the comm system. That system must be completely operational by that time.”
Brosling, the Systems Tech in charge of the repairs said, “Commander, it will be. Count on it.” Moments later, when the Commander wasn’t looking, he sent his assistant to find Captain Lucian to get help, for he knew there was no way to be finished by that time! * * * Charybdis Moans, and screams. They were the most terrible thing I've ever heard in my life. No. I did hear that once before. That night. Back on Caprica. When the Cylons attacked us during the peace envoy...so long ago...
A shriek brought me back to the here and now. I squinted my eyes and saw Lt. Finky again hovering over me. I had been moved to one side of the Med Lab and had cables attached to my body, checking my vital signs.
"Finky," I stammered weakly. A pain shot through my body. My left arm hurt, bad...I couldn't move it now...
"Don't worry, Colonel, Doc BKJ says you're not hurt that badly. But you got some burns and you might have a broken arm. Don't move, OK?" she sounded worried. She was young. Wore glasses and wore her brown hair at shoulder length. She almost reminded me of Amy with her enthusiasm.
For a brief moment, I thought of the away teams. What had happened to them? What had happened to us?? I hated being out of the loop on information...
"Finky, what is the ship's status?" I asked.
Right then, a horrible scream echoed throughout the Lab. We turned to look over and what we saw I hesitate to describe.
A Warrior had been brought in. They had to carry him or was it a her in a sheet of some kind because his uniform was smoldering. Smoke rose up from his body. He was writing in pain as his skin was black and burned from the waist up. I could make out his brown pants and the unmistakable warrior boots, but that's about all I could see that resembled a human form...
His head seemed to be a mass of pulpy goo, with bits of blonde strands of hair mixed in. I was amazed that any sound came out of his mouth, because he didn't have one anymore...
The med techs swarmed around him and after a couple of centons, they slowly stopped working and hung their heads as they moved onto other patients. A couple of other techs covered up the body with the sheet and lifted him off the floor to take him away...
I wonder if I knew him... * * * LucianG “Lu-cian!” cracked Solon as he walked into the room, his cane tapping the floor, “It may just be because of my age, but I’m tired. Those folks doing the repairs are a lot younger than me, but they’re tiring fast, too. They need rest.”
“Understood, Solon,” Lucian replied. “Take a look at this. Based on the reports so far, we’re not going to be able to complete all the repairs before the end of the jump without working serious overtime. We just don’t have enough people to get it all done. Therefore, I’m ordering all Science, Engineering, and Shop personnel split into three shifts for the next couple of cycles. It’s 8 centars on, 4 off, with everyone expected to get at least 3.5 centars of rest during that time. After that, we’ll be back on track with the normal two-shift cycle, but we’ll need to extend to an 11 on--5 off overtime schedule. We’ll reevaluate each cycle to see if we can cut back to normal, but we can’t afford not to have this ship reasonably operational when we arrive at Darjeelene.”
“You’re going to get a lot of opposition on this,” commented Solon, looking over the list. “A lot of tired people are going to be really unhappy about not getting enough rest.”
“Rest! They want rest? Don’t we all?” said Lucian sourly. “Well, if we don’t get this ship repaired by arrival in the Darjeelene system, then we all might just have eternity to rest.”
He issued the orders, which were immediately met by criticism by the workers. A short time later, the first group, which consisted of the majority of those who had been up longest, went to bed. With everything seemingly under control, Lucian, as part of that group, set his alarm for a 3.5 centar nap.
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:38:16 GMT -6
Hawke I come to and discover I can't see out of my right eye. I cough and find something warm spatter back at my face. I try to wipe whatever it was off of my face. My hands are still tied to the bed. The nurse on duty saw I was awake and came over and wiped my face off. "What...happ.." I tried to get out. "Shhhh... Don't talk Hawke....Just rest. You have multiple broken ribs, your right eye socket has been crushed and you have a concussion. The Callisto is in peices and all of the senior staff are trying to pick them up." she says. "Want....To..Talk...To....Sheba..." my voice croaks out. "When they are available.. They are just too busy right...." "NOW!!" I yell at her,grab her by the tunic,snapping the restraint,and promptly go into cardiac arrest. "Frack!! He's crashing....DOCTOR!!!!" The medical staff resusitate me a centar later. I woke up and imediately wanted to talk to Sheba. The nurse told me she was on her way. I awaited her arrival.... * * * LucianG The Gold Centurion was standing in front of Lucifer's command station, while Lucifer was concentrating intently on the system. In his experience, this was quite unusual, but he was in no position to question the actions of a two brain IL Cylon. He continued to wait his turn.
Lucifer looked at the codes and continued trying multiple combinations. He'd already deciphered the first three codes, but each time he finished one, two more, deeper, more encrypted codes had appeared. He'd expected this, of course, but the question was, how many layers Baltar had used? Knowing the human as he did, Lucifer suspected that Baltar would not use too many levels, feeling that his own intellect would be enough to prevent any Cylon from working through the security system; however, Baltar, as long as he'd known Lucifer, didn't truly KNOW him. Whereas time, to an impatient human has significant meaning, to an ordinary Cylon, it means little. In this case, Lucifer thought, the circumstances were not ordinary. While it was unlikely that Baltar had survived the blast, it was possible, and if so, Lucifer wanted to make sure that Baltar would never be able to regain control of HIS ship.
Another code solved, but again, it revealed two additional levels. That left twelve remaining for the moment, which could take centars to, perhaps, cycles to decode. He looked up at the Gold Centurion and said, "You have a message."
"Yes, Commander. Three base ships are beginning to move toward the Galactica and repairs are underway on this ship...." * * * Brie Brie took the disc that Justin had given her and left for the bridge. She hadn’t handled the conversation with the commander of Black Squadron very well. She realized that she had come off as bossy, which she had never meant to do. She would make a point of apologizing to him on the Galactica.
On the Pylos’ bridge she handed the disc to Lieutenant Kiwi. “The Callisto has jumped with the fleet,” she explained. “These are the latest orders from the Galactica.”
“The viper that landed is still with us,” Curemode observed.
“That’s Major Justin,” Brie informed him. “He’s going to make sure that the Galactica knows we’re only on Gamma.” She sighed. “And keep an eye open for any raiders or anything flying differently, just in case. If he seems to want to land again, let him.”
“Speaking of raiders, they seem to be leaving us alone,” Curemode said. “We took care of some, the vipers some more, and it looks like the rest have been recalled to their bases.”
“That’s good news for our wounded,” she remarked. “I just hope their base ships are damaged enough that they don’t all go after the Galactica.” * * * Expatkiwi Lt. Kiwi quickly looked at the data that Brie had given him. Brie noticed that Kiwi was looking rather grim. A marked change from just a few centons ago when he had blasted that Cylon raider. "What's up, Lieutenant?", Brie asked, "Something in the orders that doesn't meet with your approval?". Kiwi looked at Brie and quietly said, "Not the orders. Major, I'm not denying that we were lucky and we acheived a victory of sorts, but what we ended up paying.......I mean, those who were left behind. No, those we left behind". "I would leave it there, Lieutenant", Brie said with a tone of warning in her voice. Kiwi wanted to say more, but knew that it would only make things worse. He turned his attention back to piloting the PYLOS. * * * Brie "I'm not denying that we were lucky and we achieved a victory of sorts, but what we ended up paying.......I mean, those who were left behind. No, those we left behind.”
"I would leave it there, Lieutenant,” Brie said to Kiwi with a tone of warning in her voice. She knew what he meant, though. She had spent seven yarhens wondering if her husband had survived, knowing that even if he had she wouldn’t see him again. Now she was bringing the same news to Charybdis, one of dearest friends. No, Charybdis was more than a friend, he was the closest thing that she had to family. Although she was trying not to think about telling him it was gnawing away in the back of her mind.
She had done all that she could have done, hadn’t she? Lazant knew how much time they had, and how badly some people were wounded. She even gave him a few extra centons. Kiwi had been there, with Amy’s team. He knew what had happened. He had fought against the purple “Super” Cylons, he had heard Amy and Lazant’s orders for everyone else to leave. But there was so much doubt in his voice. What if Brie hadn’t been given all the information?
Once they were back with the fleet and the Callisto there would be an inquiry into what had happened. And while Brie knew that there wasn’t anything she could have done differently she knew that she never wanted to make this decision again. Sectars from now, after the reports were filed and she had been told over and over again that she had done all she could have done she would make sure that it never would happen again. She decided that when the time came she would resign.
But she couldn’t think of that at the micron. There was something else that she had to see with her own eyes. She quietly approached Briseis with a request. * * * Brie Brie quietly approached Corporal Briseis. She didn’t really want anyone else to hear what she was going to ask, although she didn’t really have a reason why. She decided to start with the pleasantries. “Corporal, how’s the shoulder feeling?”
“Okay, Ma’am,” Briseis answered. “It could have been a lot worse. Captain Agelastus saw them before I did. He called out my name and probably saved my life.”
“Make sure that goes into your part of the report,” Brie said. She lowered her voice. “I need you to look something up for me on the Cylon database. Something from seven yarhens ago.” She lowered her voice a little bit more. “The name is Captain Turner.”
“Ma’am?” Briseis said, not knowing who Turner was. It seemed strange to her to be looking up something from so long ago.
“Just do it,” Brie quietly ordered.
Briseis pressed a few keys and a report appeared. “Oh.” Briseis had obviously put it together in her mind. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
Brie read the report on the monitor in front of her. It was all there, just as Baltar had read it what seemed like cycles earlier. She knew that since he hadn’t known who was on the infiltration team that Baltar would have had no reason to make the report up, but Brie still needed to see it for herself. The last remaining doubt about Turner’s death was gone. “Thank you, Corporal,” was all that Brie said. * * * JustinB As Captain Kristi, Rose and Brotherjoe flew off, I felt relieved. At least the Galactica would know about the Pylos and any stray raider that might fly at her, but not fire upon her. I would hate to have the three survivors escape from the cylon base to be blown away by their own kind. For some reason I had to stay with the Pylos.
I looked down at my scanner and saw that we seemed to be in the clear. Everyone in my flight, were just where they should be. I wondered what Brie was doing at this point of time.
The Galactica shouldn't be to far away form our current position. I then hit the scrambler and issued orders to the remaining vipers, "Black flight heads up. Everyone except Lieutenant Anubis, Ensign Masonic, Lieutenant Brotherjoe and Ensign Iberia are to fly to the co-ordinates I am sending you now. You will be landing on the Battlestar Galactica. Make sure before you lose any cubits, your viper is re-armed and re-fuelled. May the Lords of Kobol be with you. Black Lead out." As the vipers headed towards the Galactica, I wondered where all the basestars were and what was install for us.
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:40:19 GMT -6
Brie For several microns Brie stood silent, taking in the information one last time. How many times could she live through Turner’s death? This was certain, this was final. She had always thought that knowing for sure would make it easier but now she knew that was wrong. She thought about her life, starting with the deaths of both her parents when she was only three. She had been raised in a military run orphanage, yarhens before the destruction of the colonies. She was doing what she had been told her whole life she should do, but for what? So she could be widowed and also leave people, her friends, behind? It wasn’t worth it. No, not at all. She had thought all along that this would be her last mission. If she survived, which it looked like by some miracle that she would, she would quit. Retire. Leave it all behind. To Hades with the bridge position that Charybdis always teased her about and to Hades with the military. Maybe she could run the Pylos, it could become a museum or something, a living piece of history. Lords know that there were too few things left from the colonies.
Brie squeezed her right arm at the elbow, just to see how much it would hurt. It was bad, so she did it again, this time even harder. “Major?” A voice behind her caused her to spin around quickly.
“Yes?” Private Nel was standing there. “I thought you were supposed to be in with Lieutenant Martinzi.”
“He’s sleeping, Ma’am,” Nel replied. “I was wondering, um, there’s some rations in the Captain’s Quarters. Some cans of Tauren stew. Is it okay if I open them?”
Brie looked at Nel as if he had just said the stupidest thing ever, which was quite possibly true. “This ship is over 500 yarhens old, Private,” she said, her voice rising slowly. “Therefore the food would be as well. We have no idea what could kind of food poisoning or bacteria is in those cans, and they’ll remain as they are until we meet up with the Galactica. If you’re hungry eat some of the emergency rations that we brought with us.”
“The Galactica?” Nel repeated, not knowing he should just leave. “I thought that we were to rendezvous with the Callisto.”
“The Callisto was damaged and already jumped with the fleet. And the Galactica will be leaving without us soon as well if you don’t let me get back to my job. Or do you think you could do it better than I can?”
“No, Ma’am,” Nel said quietly. He was starting to back out towards the door.
“Everyone thinks they know what is best,” Brie continued. “My decisions are questioned,” she looked at Kiwi, “but I do what I have to do. If someone thinks they can do a better job then fine, go ahead.”
“I think I’ll go check or Martinzi,” Nel said and exited the bridge as fast as he could.
“Brie,” Curemode said calmly.
Brie rolled her eyes. “Oh, not you too.”
“Brie,” Curemode repeated, “it looks like Major Justin wants to land again.”
After taking a deep breath she calmly said, “Let him.” She squeezed her elbow again, harder than the other two times put together and left for the bay. * * * JustinB Centons after dispersing my squadron to the Galactica, I received a tight beam scrambled communiqué from her. In it, I was informed that baseships were closing on the Galactica and we had to get there as soon as possible. This was not good news, as there was no news from the three warriors trapped on the moon. After acknowledging the message, I pulled right on the navi-hilt to once again land on the Pylos.
Once I had come to a complete stop, I saw Major Brie clutching at her elbow at the entrance to the bay. Before I climbed out, I grabbed a small med-kit from under my seat.
"Brie, I have some updated news on the Galactica. On their long range scanners, they have a few basestars approaching. We are to make all haste in getting their or they will jump without us." I said to a not too happy Brie.
"Well go on then. Take your men and join up with the Galactica, I am sure we will find someway to join up with you. I don't much care. We did our job and it worked and the fleet is safe." she replied.
"Listen here Major, you might have outrank me by pure seniorority, but you cannot tell me what to do. What I am going to do first is tend to that elbow of yours." As I reached for her elbow she pulled it away. I then gently grabbed her arm, rolled up her sleeve and put on some cream. Once it was rubbed in, I placed her arm in a sling. Her eyes winced as I touched the elbow. I looked into her eyes and I could see that something was bothering her.
"There you go Major, it's not healed but it will keep it from doing more damage. Is there anything you want to talk about because it seems I will be onboard for a while?" * * * Expatkiwi Curemode leaned over to Kiwi and said, "Look. We have to think about what we acheived overall. And Major Brie did have to make a decision on the spot". "You mean: 'He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day', don't you?", Kiwi replied. Curemode noticed that Kiwi's demeanor had really darkened. "Well, yes", Curemode replied. "Maybe it would have been more accurate to say instead: 'lives to RUN another day'", Kiwi snarled, "leaving them behind was reprehensible. Our numbers are too few as it is". "You gotta cool it, Kiwi", Curemode appealed in a low voice, "Your big mouth resulted in Hoxha nailing you earlier. You can't afford to make an enemy out of Major Brie". "The problem with that", Kiwi replied, "is that I don't kiss up to superiors if I think that there's something wrong. I call 'em as I see 'em, and I saw us run out on those we left behind!". Kiwi's grip on the control column tightened. Curemode saw that Kiwi had gone pale. He thought that he had better back off some. The rest of us here on board though need you to pilot this ship. There'll be time enough to go over the mission at debriefing once we alight on the GALACTICA", Curemode said reasonably. Kiwi didn't trust himself to speak. He knew Curemode was right, but that did not help cool his smouldering temper. "Don't worry", Kiwi replied, "I'll get this crate to the GALACTICA okay, but don't expect me to thank Brie for it". * * * Brie “Is there anything you want to talk about because it seems I will be onboard for a while?" Justin asked Brie.
For a micron Brie considered opening up to Justin, but quickly decided against it. She pulled her arm away from him. “I can take care of my own fracking elbow, thank you very much.”
She couldn’t tell from the look on his face if Justin was hurt, surprised, or maybe even understood. “Brie...” he said slowly.
“You just wait until you have some kid die in your arms, find out how your husband died, AND leave your best friend behind, all in a matter of centars,” Brie said, turning away. “Then you can come to me if YOU want to talk.” * * * JustinB If Brie were only a man, I'd give her what for I thought to myself. "Major, you think you have the corner on death here. I agree I haven't had to deal with what you just have. Being at each others throats aint going to help or change things." I said in a calmer voice. I continued, "As for leaving your best friends behind, tell me this. Was it out of your control that they were left behind. Of course it was. If there is any though going through that brain of yours that you should resign after this mission, it’s understandable. But is also a load of felgercarb." Brie tried to object but I carried on. "Major, as leaders we will lose people. In the recent battle trying to save the Callisto, I lost a warrior. I don’t know if he’s dead, alive whatever. But I march on, because if I fail and fall down so does my Squadron. From what I learnt about you, from the beginning of my training on the Callisto, is that you are one of the best warrior, in the fleet. You have been through so much, yet you have survived." After my long winded speech I turned around and went straight back towards my viper. * * * Brie Brie watched for a micron as Justin walked towards his viper. “Major,” she called but he ignored her. “Justin.” He stopped but kept his back to her. “I’m sorry,” she said honestly. He turned so she could see him and she took several steps closer so she would no longer have to raise her voice. “I didn’t mean to take all this out on you. I know better than that. It’s just that, I don’t know, I had to release and you were there. But you know, you’re wrong. It wasn’t out of my control. It was my decision, my CHOICE, to leave. What if I had just waited a little bit longer?”
“At what cost?” Justin asked. “You have a ship here full of wounded people. Their lives might have been lost if you had waited.”
“Exchange one life for another,” Brie said quietly. “This is a pleasant business we’re in.”
“Ma’am?” A voice behind Brie interrupted their conversation. It was Private Talls. “It’s Sergeant Brinfort, Ma’am. Seems it was more than a scratch to his head like he told us. He’s collapsed.”
“Take over his station,” Brie ordered, snapping back into leadership mode. “There are base ships in the area, we need all our guns operational.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Talls saluted and left.
“You have anything left in that medical kit?” Brie asked Justin. “Our supplies are almost out. That’s the problem with one-way missions. They don’t want to waste too much on you.” Justin got the kit and handed it to Brie. She took off at a run, not knowing if he was following her. * * *
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:42:18 GMT -6
Agelastus The old terminal still worked, not surprising really given the almost loving overhaul the Cylons had performed on the ancient vessel. Even the splicing of various Cylon components seemed not to have affected the smooth operation of the system.
"They sure spent a lot of cubits on this system," I muttered, contemplating the exposed circuitry visible due to the absence of one of the maintenance panels.
"Pardon?" Captain Killjoy asked from where he leaned tiredly against the bulkhead. He was concentrating on using a sterile pad to cleanse some of the small burns on his left arm from where a Cylon shot had detonated some volatile substanes in an uncomfortably close proximity to both of us. My own back still twitched with various dull pains.
The actual mission was little more than a blur. At some point I seemed to have lost one of my monofilament blades, and a quick glance at my feet where I had dumped my combat belt revealed only three quarrels, all gel packs, still in their slots. It had been a tough fight.
The blood staining my jacket was mostly not my own.
“Nothing,” I replied to Killjoy’s question. “Just thinking out loud.” Why would someone build a starliner with the kind of redundancies I could see in those exposed systems?
“And that’s what worries me, Agelastus. You tend to do that right before something goes boom.”
“Huh?” I swiveled to look directly at my fellow captain, genuinely confused.
“You did exactly the same thing back there, right before those centurions nearly blew Briseis into the next centuron.”
“If you say so, Killjoy.” I really did not recall. Still, talking to myself had long been a bad habit of mine, but I really thought that I’d stopped doing that in a combat situation.
Behind me, the terminal beeped, having finished the search of the Pylos’ memory cores I’d ordered. I looked at the terminal with some surprise.
“That’s odd.” Seeing Killjoy’s face I hastily continued before he could make another comment. “The data I was looking for seems to be there, but the clearance required to access it…”
Killjoy leaned over to look at the screen, the relevant clearance level required blinking in red letters against the darkness.
“Alpha Black? What kind of clearance level is Alpha Black? I’ve never seen that before.”
“You wouldn’t have, not even with your Black Squadron security duties. That’s a presidential level only clearance code.”
”And how do you know that?” Killjoy looked at me suspiciously.
“Misspent youth,” was all I ventured. “The trouble is that this level of clearance was so rarely used for a good reason. The protocols for access were traditionally passed from president to president at each inauguration.”
“Oh,” was all Killjoy could say, as he instantly grasped what I meant. The last pre-Holocaust president had been Adar. And he’d certainly not had any time to pass on the protocols as the Atlantia blew apart around him.
There must have been a failsafe for an instance like this, but I didn’t know it. I considered the odds that someone in the Fleet might know. I didn’t like the odds. One would be far better off playing Pyramid with Starbuck.
In my pocket, the data-core Briseis had downloaded for me from the Cylon base’s main system shifted slightly. * * * JustinB Brie took off at a run, not knowing if I was following her. I wasn't going to at first, but my sense of duty made me turn around and follow her. I had only met Sergeant Brinfort once, but I knew he was a good person to have with you on ground missions. When I caught up with her, Brie was already tending to Sergeant Brinfort. The way she tended to Him, you might be mistaken she was a med-tech, not a Commanding Officer. I could see that Brie really cared for her people and I could see why she reacted the way she had. Leaving three of her people behind to her, would amount to treason in her eyes. As I looked around, I saw some battle weary warriors. It wouldn't be long and we would be safely on the Galactica. I too needed some R&R, more than I knew. I hoped that the rest of my squadron was safe aboard the Galactica and that Captain Kris had passed on my message to Commander Apollo. I sat down and watched Brie as she put the final touch on Brinfort's wounds. Brie was one hellava woman and a great Commanding Officer. * * * Brie Sergeant Brinfort was conscience when Brie arrived, but it was obvious that he was in bad shape. Brie struggled a little bit with the bandages, she hadn’t put a sling on her arm for a reason but she knew that Justin was right. She needed to take care of herself if she was going to be able to help anyone else.
“Major,” Sergeant Brinfort said weakly, “I guess it’s more than a scratch. I...I can’t see.”
Even with her limited medical knowledge Brie knew that if he didn’t receive proper attention Brinfort’s time was limited. “That’s why I took you off the guns,” Brie said, hoping to cheer the man just a little. The words sounded stupid as soon as she said them.
Brinfort managed a small smile. “Don’t want a blind gunner, I guess.”
“Listen, Sarge,” Brie said, “we’re going to move you down to the lower level, so that they’ll be able to take care of you as soon as we land on the Galactica. We’ll be there soon. Just hang on, that’s an order.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Someone had found a stretcher in one of the Pylos’ rooms, and it was getting a lot of use. Two men with just minor injuries helped Brinfort on and carried him out of the hall.
Brie allowed herself a moment. She sat on the floor, leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. She was surprised to see that Major JustinB was standing there. She usually wore her hair up but she had taken it down centars earlier, although she wasn’t quite sure when. She pushed some of her hair out of her face, which allowed the cut on her right temple to show. “Brie...” Justin said.
Knowing what he was thinking Brie smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s just a scratch.”
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:48:21 GMT -6
Amy Amy seemed to sense it before the attacking centurions did. It began as a rumble, something almost felt more than heard, but something she became aware of even over the noise of the incoming blaster fire. Then it became louder, and as great chunks began to rain down from the ceiling Amy realized that Beta bay was collapsing.
The enhanced cylons began to hold up as they too noticed this new danger. Even as they stood there, giant pieces of the ceiling began to land all around them, wiping out groups of them at a time. Amy gathered up the gold centurion’s head and tucked it firmly inside her uniform, snapping up the oversized jacket around it. Using the cylon confusion to her advantage, Amy seized her chance and got up, and with a deep breath made for the elevator shaft. She had to try- it meant certain death to remain in the unstable bay any longer.
She met with no enemy fire as she ran, slipping and sliding, trying to dodge chunks of debris as she drew nearer to the shaft. She went into a feet-first slide, her rifle slipping from her hand and sliding on ahead of her. She reached the edge and was half-way over the side when she realized that the platform was not going to be there.
* *
At the bottom of the shaft, Lazant listened to the commotion above worriedly, though he gave off the impression of calm. It hadn’t been that long. He needed to give Amy and Deke time. Baltar, however, was pacing back and forth nervously, continuously checking his wrist for a timepiece he was not wearing.
“Stupid, incompetent imbecile!” Baltar muttered, his voice rising in frustration. “She’s probably going to bring the whole regiment down here!”
Lazant didn’t reply, but didn’t feel like he could argue anyway. Amy was the cause of much of what was going on, though she did earn points for bravery in going back up there, possibly to die in an attempt to set things right. If she’d only held onto the head they’d be out of here already, but the thought crossed his mind that he might not have held onto the head either, given the circumstances. Baltar could have said to bring it.
Baltar was working himself up pretty good. “What kind of military do you people run, putting a worthless child like that in charge of anything!”
Lazant again didn’t reply, and only felt a tiny bit of remorse in not defending his fellow officer. The platform was reaching the bottom again, and Baltar was in the process of sending it back up. “Maybe I should go up this time” Lazant wondered.
“You fool!” Baltar said testily, “If she’s encountered those purple things you’d be good as dead going up there. She’s beyond help.”
“Then we all are” Lazant said. Just then something clattered as it dropped hard onto the platform, having fallen down the shaft from above. Baltar ran over, climbing onto the lift to see what it was. He turned to show it to Lazant. It was Amy’s rifle. Baltar tossed the rifle aside, hopped off the platform, and stopped the lift.
“What are you doing?” Lazant shouted, advancing on him.
“Keeping those centurions from getting down here!” Baltar shouted back, pushing Lazant to keep him away.
“We’re dead unless we get that head” Lazant snapped. “If Amy and Deke are still alive we can’t abandon them just so we can, what, starve to death down here? Now turn it back on!” Lazant lunged at Baltar and the two of them struggled to get in a punch.
“Should have known better than to trust that pathetic female”, Baltar said with effort as he grappled with Lazant.
“And me to trust a traitor” Lazant grunted in return as he tried to overpower the villainous daggit. * * * As Amy sailed over the side she reached out in desperation for anything to hold onto. Just when she felt herself heading into a free-fall, her hands hooked around some jagged material sticking out from the edge, and she squeezed tight. She stopped falling, but was over the side now, a foot below the edge, her grip on the material the only thing keeping her there. Her rifle had gone over the edge, and after a few moments she heard it hit the bottom. Her heart pumped madly as she realized the platform must be all the way down.
Her grip wasn’t strong. The oil on her fingers made it hard to keep any kind of a grip, and she grunted as she kept trying to improve it as her fingers slipped around the material. Above her the sounds of destruction were nearly deafening. The blaster fire had triggered the collapse of the bay, and with any luck it took the enhanced cylons with it, but at any moment she could be struck as well.
Amy’s thoughts drifted into random flashes of different events in her life. Days spent planting on the Agroship with mom and dad, joining the academy, meeting and falling for Charybdis. For an odd moment she actually felt she was rolling on the floor with him back on the Callisto, having just accepted his proposal of the seal. With horror she realized that her life was flashing before her eyes! With redoubled determination she concentrated on her grip. She couldn’t give up! The lift must be coming up soon!
With a thunderous roar the collapse suddenly reached it’s end, and strange silence replaced it. Amy was conscious now of her heavy breathing and a ringing in her ears. She grunted again, trying to hoist herself up to a better position.
Without warning a hand reached down and grabbed her by the collar. Amy’s breathing was cut off by the bunched up material around her neck, and she let out a gurgling sound as she felt herself being slowly raised up, and in a micron she found herself staring into the faceplate of one of the enhanced cylons.
It’s face was damaged, and a fine plume of smoke was coming out of a seam that was split open on the top of it’s head. It’s purple light flashed back and forth, suddenly stopping as if staring right at Amy. It’s grip tightened and Amy let go of the material she’d been holding and brought her hands up to her throat. She knew she was dying, and this time no thoughts, no scenes from her life came to her. Nothing but blackness as she stared into the dark soul of the killer machine.
Suddenly the cylon jerked, and Amy felt like she was falling, but the machine’s grip remained. Again it jerked, it’s purple light beginning to fade as Amy looked on in horror. Its death grip was also her only lifeline to keep from falling. Which form of death was preferable?
“Amy” a voice said wearily. It was Deke, bruised and bleeding. He crawled near the edge, breathing hard. He was in great pain, and he looked confused, but he’d bashed the cylon and was ready to do it again when suddenly he pitched forward with a scream and fell down the shaft.
“No” Amy wheezed, her bulging eyes bursting into tears. The cylon, having pushed Deke over the edge, brought it’s other hand over the side and was reaching for Amy when it’s light suddenly winked out and the thing died, still keeping it’s iron grip around her neck. * * * At the bottom of the shaft, Lazant and Baltar were still locked in a struggle for control of the elevator when Deke came crashing down. Their fight had carried them onto the lift itself, and Baltar took the worst of the impact with the falling warrior. All three of them sprawled off the lift and onto the floor of the tiny imperial bay.
Baltar gathered his wits the soonest as he lay there with the massive Deke on top of him. “My leg!” he cried out. Then, “Get this infernal mass of flesh off of me!”
Lazant shook his head to try and clear it, and dragged himself to his feet. Knowing that Baltar was at least still alive, he instead focused on Deke. He knew it was bad. A fall like that wasn’t something you walk away from. After a moment, his fears were realized. Deke was dead. Without warning a flood of emotions threatened to overcome Lazant.
Deke’s body obscured Baltar’s line of sight. “What are you doing?” he asked irritably.
“Deke’s dead” Lazant said simply, quietly.
“Then get him off of me!” Baltar shouted. “I can hardly feel my leg!”
Lazant hesitated a moment as if contemplating whether he could leave Baltar pinned like that. The lack of caring, the utter total lack of humanity in the man turned his stomach. But like it or not, he still needed Baltar’s help. With great straining yet as gently as he could, he rolled Deke enough so Baltar could wiggle free. Baltar sat up grimacing, clutching his leg. “I don’t think I can walk”, he said, ignoring completely the man who’d just died.
Lazant shook his head, this time in disgust. A million things ran through his mind that he felt like telling Baltar, but there were things still to be done. He went over to Baltar, and began helping him up, guiding him over to the elevator controls. “Why are you taking me over here?” Baltar said through his pain.
“Because we still don’t have that head” Lazant said. “I’ll have to go up there.”
“I won’t help you” Baltar said instinctively, full of fear.
“Look, you quivering bag of daggit meat” Lazant snapped, “You will help me. It’s quiet up there now. Whatever has happened is over, and with no sign from Amy we must assume she’s dead.” His voice quivered unexpectedly as he said the words.
“No loss there” Baltar managed to mutter before Lazant went on.
“I’m our last chance if we want to leave. It’s up to me now to find that head.” Lazant had set Baltar up at the controls, and now, centurion battle blade in hand, he stood on the lift.
Baltar looked at him coldly. “What makes you think I won’t just lock the lift at the top?” he asked sinisterly.
“Because you want out of here as badly as I do. As much as I choke on the thought of it, we need each other.” Lazant’s expression seemed to indicate that he actually was about to choke. Baltar let loose his trademark snicker.
“Brothers in humanity, eh captain?” he sneered, and with a flip of a switch he sent the lift on it’s way up, and began to really think about if he would allow it to come back down again.
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:49:19 GMT -6
Amy
Lazant stood on the rising lift, listening to it rumble as he stared up the shaft. In the tiny square of light at the top it seemed like something was in the shaft, blocking the entrance back into Beta bay. Lazant squinted, concentrating on the blockage, trying to make it out what it was. As he drew closer he tensed up. It looked like a body. But whether it was human or cylon he couldn’t tell.
He moved on instinct when he got closer and the shaft brightened enough for him to see. By the long hair on the dangling body he knew that it was Captain Amy hanging there by her neck, being held by a cylon centurion. Lazant’s blade came up, at the ready, and when he was close enough, as Amy’s boots made contact with the lift, he hacked with a skillful stroke and severed the cylon’s arm. As Amy fell he dropped the sword on the follow-through and managed to break most of her fall. The lift continued upward, and it was only at the point when Lazant froze in fear, thinking that Baltar actually was going to allow the lift to lock, that the elevator stopped with a jerk and began to descend again.
Lazant was no longer thinking about the gold cylon head as he gently lay the motionless Amy down. The severed cylon arm was oozing oil, it’s grip on Amy’s collar loosening enough that Lazant was able to pry it off of her. He tossed it aside violently, and bent to check for signs of life in his fellow warrior. As he saw she was not breathing he quickly began CPR. He performed mouth to mouth, and was about to begin chest compressions when he noticed the lump under Amy’s jacket.
“Forget it, perv” he imagined her saying as he tore open her coat and found the gold head there. “Lords!” he said in a quivering voice, “You got it! You got it!” Then he began to work feverishly on her, his eyes beginning to water.
“Not you too, not you too” he said over and over as he tried to get her to breathe again.
The elevator continued it’s descent down the shaft… * * * Baltar looked on with interest as the elevator came back into view once more. Lazant was hovering over someone, but it was the gold head that caught Baltar’s attention. “Ah! You’ve found it! Never send a girl to do a man’s work, eh captain?” When Lazant did not answer but continued what he was doing, the silence grew awkward. “What happened?” Baltar asked, “She see a crawlon or something?”
Lazant shot him a look, but it was more of an exhausted one than anything threatening. This mission was one big nightmare, and he more than had his fill of it. “She found it” he replied. “She’s alive, but I can’t get her to wake up.”
“She’ll be less trouble that way” Baltar smirked. “Bring me the head so we can leave this infernal place.” Lazant more tossed it to him then handed it. Baltar looked it over eagerly. “Good. Good! It will do fine. Now take it over to the cruiser.”
Baltar held the head out toward Lazant, who was still kneeling by Amy. The relief that he’d been able to get her breathing again hadn’t worn off yet. It was hard to focus on what still needed to be done. But slowly he got up and stepped off the elevator, rubbing his face in an attempt to concentrate. After a moment he seemed to be thinking clearer. “Okay” he said with a heavy sigh, “What do I do?”
“Simply hold it up to the panel near the hatch” Baltar replied. “It’s not easy to see it, but it’s… ah, there we go!” Lazant had held the head in the right spot, and the door simply slid open. That was it. All that grief, all the fighting, dying, just to open a door.
“Now” Lazant asked, “do I need this fracking head anymore?” Baltar shook his head, and Lazant slammed it aside in disgust, then stepped inside the cruiser. His eyes grew wide as he looked around. The Imperial Cruiser was a first class ride, surprisingly so considering who had built it. He didn’t think of machines having an eye for anything other than efficiency.
To his left was a two-seat thingypit, situated in front of a generous front window. These seats were plain, unpadded, but to his right was a passenger area that seemed straight off the Rising Star. A plush carpet spread beneath plusher chairs that seemed fit for only the highest royalty. There were cabinets, and what struck Lazant as something similar to a bar or a food prep area, but what could be stored there was beyond his guess. A door was at the far end of this area, and Lazant cautiously opened it, but was satisfied that it was nothing more than a storage area, with no cylons hiding in the shadows.
He came back out, getting the impression that he had surprised Baltar. The traitor had moved quickly, guiltily almost, to hide whatever he had been doing, or so it seemed to Lazant. Lazant walked toward him, watching Baltar grow uncomfortable as he came closer, but Lazant continued past him. “I’ll get Amy inside first, then I’ll help you aboard” Lazant said. He bent down and gathered up the unconscious warrior, and carefully stepped around Baltar as he carried her into the cruiser.
As soon as Lazant was out of sight, Baltar secretively went back to what he had been doing… * * * Lazant carried Amy into the cruiser and set her down on the soft carpet. He wasn’t sure if a chair would be right for her, and unless she needed to be buckled in he felt that the carpet would be the most comfortable for her. A cylon flag was mounted on the far wall near the storage doorway, and Lazant tore it down and used it as a blanket of sorts for her. She stirred slightly as he checked on her, but she did not regain consciousness like he had hoped. Quietly, he stepped back out of the cruiser.
Baltar was where he had left him, leaning near the elevator controls. Lazant eyed him keenly, suspiciously, but Baltar was as greasy and smooth as ever. “Got her all tucked in, captain?” he asked with a smile, allowing himself a small chuckle. “If we’re all done with the pampering, can we get aboard and leave now?”
Lazant nodded, and came over to help Baltar. His leg hadn’t improved any since Deke had landed on it, and Baltar couldn’t go too far on his own. They hadn’t gone more than a couple of steps when something fell out of Baltar’s garment. Baltar hastily tried to reach down for it, but was too stiff. Lazant bent over and picked it up, taking several steps back from Baltar.
“What’s this?” Lazant said with surprise in his voice. Baltar just looked at him with barefaced hatred. Lazant looked over the small device, unmistakably a transmitter of some kind. His blood ran cold as he realized what he was holding, and what it meant to his chances of avoiding the cylons. “What’s this about, Baltar? You’ve been playing us, haven’t you? Playing us all along?” Baltar said nothing, but his look of hatred intensified.
“You’ve been calling your baseship all along, haven’t you?” Lazant asked. “HAVEN’T YOU!”
“I’ve been with you all along, captain” Baltar replied, trying to sound reasonable. His face twitched as he spoke. “How quickly you leap to suspicion.”
“I should have known there’d be a backstabbing” Lazant snapped. “Maybe I did know somewhere in the back of my head. Your baseship is right outside this bay, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not” Baltar said in a level voice, sweat popping up on his brow. “Go run a scan from the crusier. I’m telling the truth.”
Lazant stared at him. He probably was, if he was suggesting the scan. “Okay” Lazant said. “Hold on, I can figure it out. How about this: you haven’t been playing us. You really needed help to get out of here. Because all of the bays are out, your friends couldn’t send another ship to get you. But once we had the crusier in space,” he held up the transmitter as evidence, “you use this to call your baseship. It overruns us, you get back to your ship, and we’re all prisoners. Do I have it right this time?”
Baltar’s face fell, and whatever thin layer of civilty went with it. “And what of it, captain? It’s war isn’t it? You think that the moment I experience human contact I’d betray everything I’ve spent the last 25 yahrens on?” He tried to take a step, but hobbled on the bad leg and remained where he was. “My baseship was and is your best hope. I’ll treat you well, you have my word!”
Lazant couldn’t stand it. Baltar using the word betray was bad enough, but promising to treat him well? That was too much. Lazant started to laugh. It started a rush of emotions, from the humorous irony of Baltar’s words, to the relief of reviving Amy, to the grief of losing Deke and so many others. He had stopped laughing now, and glared at Baltar. “You’re good” Lazant said. “You still have it. No wonder the Council of the Twelve bought everything you sold to them.” Then, without warning, he dropped the transmitter and stomped on it.
Baltar grimaced as if Lazant had stomped on him instead. “You fool! We’ll never make it now!”
“We?” Lazant asked. “We?” He was backing up toward the crusier now, away from Baltar. Fearful, Baltar tried to move forward, but fell to his knees instead. “Captain? W-what are you doing? W-where…”
“Good-bye Baltar” Lazant said, turning his back to him as he reached the door of the cruiser. He looked back, cherishing the panic in Baltar’s eyes.
“Y-you can’t leave me here!” Baltar shouted pleadingly. “I’ll be spaced when the bay doors open! I-I’ll be killed!”
Lazant stopped. He hadn’t thought of that. Was he capable of cold blooded killing, even if his victim so totally deserved it? He paused, looking at the pathetic, groveling traitor. Then he realized what they both had forgot. “The lift locks at the top” he said. “I suggest you get on it. I’ll give you a reasonable amount of time. More than you deserve believe me.”
Baltar continued to shout after Lazant, trying to crawl that way until the crusier door slid shut. Then, in full panic, he turned and began to crawl toward the lift. “I’ll get you Lazant. I’ll get you!” He was literally spitting the words out as he grunted with effort.
“I’LL GET YOU OR MY NAME ISN’T BAL-TAAAAAR!!”
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:51:13 GMT -6
Amy
Lazant wondered at the wisdom of it as the cruiser door slid shut on the pleading Baltar. He would have made a valuable prisoner. It made all the tactical sense in the world to take him along. Except that as Baltar lived and breathed, he’d try anything to keep Lazant from escaping. What good would it do to take him along and then never make it back? Lazant didn’t doubt that Baltar was more than capable of preventing a return to the Callisto. It was only by blind luck that he’d foiled the traitor’s plan. What else did Baltar have up his sleeve?
Lazant looked at Amy, still lying on the floor of the cruiser, the cylon flag draped over her. And he realized that only he would know what happened between him and Baltar. He could say anything, or say nothing. No one needed to know what he had done.
He walked over to the pilot’s console and sat down heavily in one of the seats. He rubbed a hand over his face, conscious of his fatigue. This mission had taken a lot out of him. The absolutes he had come to know too well had begun to bleed into grays. What was it about leaving Baltar that gnawed at him so much? Was he putting his personal desire for revenge ahead of the best interests of the fleet?
No, he thought firmly. His duty now is to bring what’s left of his command home. The mission was accomplished. The fact that Baltar was within his grasp was never part of the mission, and no one would have to know why Baltar failed to make it off the base.
He wondered just how able he would be to carry around that knowledge for the rest of his life. “You’re making a big assumption”, he told himself. “You’re not back home yet.” He did, however, know the way home, and it was time to make it happen.
He turned his full attention to the controls, and knew for the first time that he was in trouble. He instinctively looked back at Amy. They’d talked about this in the cylon fighter, that Lazant was rusty. Amy was more up on this feldgercarb. And this crusier was more complicated than a fighter…
He got up and gently tried to rouse Amy. He shook her lightly, spoke to her, but aside from shifting position slightly she did not respond. He stood up, staring at the cruiser door. Frustration rose in him. It seemed he still had need of the traitorous daggit…
Remembering that the lift would lock at the top, and that he’d told Baltar to take it up if he wanted to live, Lazant suddenly leaped for the doorway, hoping he wasn’t too late to stop it. * * * Hawke Sheba comes into the security wing of the Life Station as the med techs were wrapping up with me. The doctor says "He just came out of a cardiac arrest. I don't know how he's staying alive. He shouldn't have visitors,Commander." "I promise I won't be long." she says. "Hawke..Hawke...I'm here. It's Sheba." I wake up and look at her. "Sheba?...That you?" I manage to croak out. "Yea. It's me. I heard you were pretty insistant on seeing me." she says. "Comm..ander..Level with me..What's happening to me?" I manage to slur out. "You were caught firing on and destroying a viper,killing Lieutenant Czaban. We had to disable your viper to bring you under control.We are holding you in the security wing of the Life Station until you recover and we can pick up the pieces of the Callisto from the attack. Now,I have a question for you. What happened?" she asks. "Thought...was....dream...No control of actions..." I slurred out. I then screamed. I feel my strength returning and then some. Everything seemed like a dream again. Except everything I did it seemed I had superhuman reflexes & strength. I broke the bindings holding my arms and legs down. I grabbed Sheba by the throat while sitting up. The blackshirts promptly drew their blasters on me. I used Sheba as a sheild constantly looking back. "Stay back!! I'll kill her, I swear...." "Hawke...What.. are.. you ..doing?" Sheba croaked out. I grab Sheba's sidearm and point it at the blackshirts. "Your call boys, what's it going to be?" "Put..your sidearms...down....now..." Sheba croaked out. The blackshirts looked at her like she had a screw loose. "That's...an...order...Nobody..stop...him.." she croaked out... They put the sidearms down. The doctor tried coming at me with a hypodermic needle. I spun around and shot him in the leg. We come to the door going to the unsecured area of the Life Station. "Code please." Sheba didn't move. I raised her weapon and pointed to her head. "Code PLEASE." Sheba punched in the code. The door opened. And I shot the blackshirts in the leg. "C'mon Sheba. Let's go. Move." I grab her arm. "Don't anyone try to stop him!!! That's an order!!" Sheba yelled out. "That's mighty kind of you Commander. Thank you." We make it out of Life Station unhindered.
That's when the klaxxons go off. "Security Alert in the Life Station...Security Alert in the Life Station..." "What are you going to do now,Hawke? There's no where to go.." I punch her accross her jaw knocking her out. "I'm sorry,Commander. I have bigger problems right now." * * * LucianG Captain Urdea had just finished briefing Lieutenant Winculus about the case of the Captain Lucian's missing message when a desperate call came in from the Med Lab. One of the Security Officers assigned to watch Captain Hawke reported that Hawke had escaped, kidnapped the Commander, and escaped into the corridor after disarming all the Security Officers. Urdea immediately had Lieutenant Proteus activate all Security Officers, even those on temporary assignment to the rescue efforts.
"Hawke! What have you done this time?" moaned Winnie, who had partnered with Hawke when he had been temporarily assigned to Security. She had liked Hawke, maybe a little too much, but she saw him as a troubled individual, and as a result, had ruled out any emotional interest in him, keeping the relationship strictly professional. She had only spoken with him a few times since then. Standing in front of her locker only moments later, she fastened the final latches on her body armor, checked her laser pistol, attached her taser, and ordered her squad into action. * * * Charybdis I closed my eyes for a micron, then there was shouting. Commotion. What the frack was happening? It was all going so fast...
Before I could inquire as to what all of that was, Lt. Finky began pushing my recovery stretcher into the nearest room. "What the, what are you doing, Lieutenant?" I stammered out...
When she had us in the room, she turned and activated the security code for Command personnel and locked the door safely behind us...
"Lieutenant, what are you doing?" I repeated groggily...
"Colonel, Lt. Hawke was out there. He burst out of one of the observation rooms holding a laser to Cmdr. Sheba's head!"
"What??" I could hardly believe that...but then again, knowing what I did of Hawke, it was plausible..."Hades Hole! Has this whole place gone mad?"
"Don't worry, Colonel, you're safe in here. I'm assigned to protect you and report to Sheba your condition. Given the situation in the Med Lab, I won't leave your side," she reassured me as she took my hand in hers and smiled a little. She seemed pretty nervous... * * * Hawke The klaxxons go off. "Security Alert in the Life Station...Security Alert in the Life Station..." "What are you going to do now,Hawke? There's no where to go.." I punch her accross her jaw knocking her out. "I'm sorry,Commander. I have bigger problems right now." I turn and run down the corridor and hear a security team coming down. I duck into an accessway and wait for them to pass. I manage to make it to my quarters without incident. I take my portable terminal and reach into my secret wall hole. I take inventory of most of my stuff I might need and close it up. I grab a backpack and cram my belongings into it. Along with several disguises. I'm so glad that command doesn't know about this stuff. One of the things is a personal cloaking device. I put it on my belt,activate it and I disappear. I don't notice a piece of equipment clatter to the floor in my wake. I know exactally where would be a perfect hideout. The Cellestial Chamber!! Excelent.. I head up there and de-cloak. I put my stuff down behind a console and rest. * * * LucianG “Captain, we found her. Looks like he decked her, but I think she’s going to be okay. Little groggy at the moment.”
Urdea got the location, and arrived a few centons later. Sheba was resting on the deck with an ice pack to her face. One of the Security Officers with a first aid rating was checking her out since there were no Med Techs that could be spared from the Med Lab at the moment.
“Commander, are you okay?” asked Urdea. “Can you tell me anything about what happened?” He helped her into a sitting position, with her back resting against the side of the corridor, her knees pulled up so her elbow could rest on her left knee while she held the ice pack in place.
She gave him the basic story of what she knew, then said, “Twenty yahrens ago, I’d have been able to dodge that punch. Ten yahrens ago, I could have rolled with it and kept going. Now, I didn’t even see it coming.”
Urdea knew better. First, being chief of security, he’d studied her file and had it basically memorized in case something like this ever occurred. He knew that hand-to-hand combat was not her greatest skill, partly from the file, but more from the fact that he had sparred with her on a number of occasions. He said, with a slightly amused grin, “Yes, Commander, whatever you say.”
She whispered to him, “Guess you’re the wrong person to try to pull that one on, Urdea. We could share that laugh you’re bottling up inside, but my face hurts too much.”
“Sorry, Commander,” said Urdea. Getting back to business, “Do you know what’s happening with Hawke?”
“No, Urdea, I don’t, but we’ve got to get to the bottom of it. Let’s get to the Bridge to see if we can figure it out.” * * *
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:52:54 GMT -6
A short time later, Sheba and Urdea were looking at Hawke’s file. Even with Sheba’s authorization code, there were gaps in the record.
“I thought I remembered something like this from when we had the episode with Hawke a couple of yahrens ago,” said Sheba. “Black Ops work was the explanation. Unfortunately, during the jump, there’s no way we can get more information from the fleet.”
“We’ll keep searching, Commander. If there’s anything on the Callisto to find, we’ll find it,” said Urdea taking his leave.
Sheba leaned back in her chair, propping another ice pack against her head, hoping the aching would go away soon. Moments later, figuring that it wasn’t, she verified that Joey had the Bridge for the next few centars, and she returned to her quarters, locked the door, and went to bed to get some much needed rest. * * * Brie “Major Brie?” Brie looked up and saw Private Ophis standing over her. “Major Curemode asked me to inform you that he has the Galactica on the comm.”
“On Gamma?” Brie asked. Private Ophis nodded. “Wow. Thanks, Private. I want you to check on the wounded, get them ready for the transfer to the Galactica. It shouldn’t be too long.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Brie stood up, realizing for the first time how tired she was. Sleep wasn’t within sight for her, though. Once on the Galactica there would be the debriefing, followed by checking on the injured members of her party, and then maybe getting medical attention herself. She dreaded going to sleep, she knew that as soon as she closed her eyes all she’d be able to see would be the faces of those she had left behind. “Want to see the bridge?” Brie asked Justin. “It’s pretty impressive.”
“Sure,” Justin said. He followed her to the small bridge of the Pylos. It was already crowded.
“Here she comes,” Curemode could be heard saying.
“I’ll get the commander,” a voice from the other end said. The signal wasn’t as clear as they were used to, but it wasn’t breaking up badly, although it did need an occasional readjustment.
“Major Brie?” The voice was unmistakable. Although she didn’t deal with him personally all that often Brie knew that it was Commander Apollo.
“Yes, Sir, I’m here,” Brie said.
“Please advise me of your situation,” Apollo said.
“We have three who are critically wounded,” she replied. Several more who are fairly serious, and I think that just about everyone is at least slightly hurt. We also have two bodies with us, and six members of our original team didn’t return.”
“Tell me about this ship that you found,” Apollo said. “How can we get you to us?”
“There’s a bay that serves both for launching and landing,” Brie told him. “A small shuttle should have no problem landing. Also, it has jump capabilities, but I would advise towing it during the jump because it’s been in Cylon hands for Lords knows how long.”
“Good call,” Apollo commented. “I’ll send a team of mechanics aboard during the jump, so they can check over every inch of it. Prepare your wounded, Major. It will probably take three trips, so prioritize the injuries. The first shuttle will be there in 10 centons.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good job, Major,” Apollo said. “Congratulations of the success of your mission. Commander Apollo out.”
Success. The word sounded so hollow, especially since the mission felt to her like a dismal failure. * * * Brie walked with Major Justin to the bay. She knew that she still owed him a decent apology, but that could wait until they were safely on the Galactica. At the micron she had her team to think about. He climbed into his viper and launched for the Galactica.
The first shuttle arrived, and the most seriously injured and Lieutenant Martinzi were boarded. Knowing that some of them could be only microns from death Brie was relieved. With the second shuttle some of the team from engineering and maintenance arrived. Curemode briefly ran over the controls with them, and they were given a quick update on the information that had so far been recovered on the Pylos’ computer. After the second shuttle left the work on the tow cable began. Curemode and Kiwi stayed at the helm and kept the Pylos steady while the cable was attached. The last remaining members of the team boarded the final shuttle that soon launched for the Galactica. It was a very short ride, and almost totally silent. * * * Expatkiwi Curemode looked over at Kiwi, who had stayed quiet since his last outburst. For his part, Kiwi was glad of the momentary distration of the ongoing crew transfer to the GALACTICA shuttle. Brooding about the shipmates left behind to the mercy of the Cylons was something that had to wait until the PYLOS was secured and the debriefing could be held. "Kiwi?", Curemode gently ventured.
"Yeah?", he replied. His voice was quiet, though there was an undertone of bitterness.
"You going to be okay?", he asked. Kiwi looked at him, then nodded his head.
"Don't worry about me, Curemode", he said, "This crate is in good hands".
"It's going to be good to be on board the GALACTICA again", Curemode stated, "I've got acquaintances on board her. How about you?" "I used to serve in Red Squadron as a shuttle pilot", Kiwi replied, but after qualifying in Vipers, I couldn't wait to get to the CALLISTO. It's been one hell of a way to come full circle", he concluded bitterly.
"It's best to save that for debriefing", Curemode reminded him, "and after we get shuttled off the PYLOS and get back to the GALACTICA, then you can get it all off your chest". "Look, Curemode", Kiwi relied not unkindly, "I appreciate your concern, but those others we left behind..........what is it called when you kill people?", he asked rhetorically.
"You think Major Brie wanted to leave anyone behind?" Curemode asked, "She didn't kill them and neither did you. Those tin-heads were to blame. What Brie did was hard, but don't ever call it murder!"
"Too bad", Kiwi answered, "because I feel that I have their blood on my hands as a result of our leaving them there". "Which would you rather be, Kiwi?", Curemode asked quietly, "Dead with a clear conscience, or alive and able to feel guilty? That's the bottom line".
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:54:15 GMT -6
Brie
Landing on the Galactica was quiet, uneventful, and nerve rattling all at the same time. Brie had mixed emotions. While she was happy to have survived it took a backseat to the empty feeling of leaving her dear friends behind. Then there was Turner. The last time she had been on the Galactica she had just been reassigned to the Callisto...after Turner’s disappearance and her reaction. Now she knew without a doubt that he was dead. She had never felt so hollow.
Stepping off of the shuttle she was immediately greeted with good news. “The medical staff wanted me to inform you, Ma’am, that all the wounded should survive.” Brie had no idea who the young woman speaking to her was. A cadet, someone who didn’t yet realize how much military life could stink. “They said that if Sergeant Brinfort hadn’t received attention immediately, he would have died within the centon, it was that close. But they’re expecting a full recovery.”
“Thank you,” Brie replied. As she started the walk to the bridge for the debriefing to dawned on her that if they had waited any longer for Amy, Lazant and Deke, Sergeant Brinfort would have died. Three lives exchanged for one.
* * *
Brie
“Major Brie?” Brie looked up and saw Private Ophis standing over her. “Major Curemode asked me to inform you that he has the Galactica on the comm.”
“On Gamma?” Brie asked. Private Ophis nodded. “Wow. Thanks, Private. I want you to check on the wounded, get them ready for the transfer to the Galactica. It shouldn’t be too long.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Brie stood up, realizing for the first time how tired she was. Sleep wasn’t within sight for her, though. Once on the Galactica there would be the debriefing, followed by checking on the injured members of her party, and then maybe getting medical attention herself. She dreaded going to sleep, she knew that as soon as she closed her eyes all she’d be able to see would be the faces of those she had left behind. “Want to see the bridge?” Brie asked Justin. “It’s pretty impressive.”
“Sure,” Justin said. He followed her to the small bridge of the Pylos. It was already crowded.
“Here she comes,” Curemode could be heard saying.
“I’ll get the commander,” a voice from the other end said. The signal wasn’t as clear as they were used to, but it wasn’t breaking up badly, although it did need an occasional readjustment.
“Major Brie?” The voice was unmistakable. Although she didn’t deal with him personally all that often Brie knew that it was Commander Apollo.
“Yes, Sir, I’m here,” Brie said.
“Please advise me of your situation,” Apollo said.
“We have three who are critically wounded,” she replied. Several more who are fairly serious, and I think that just about everyone is at least slightly hurt. We also have two bodies with us, and six members of our original team didn’t return.”
“Tell me about this ship that you found,” Apollo said. “How can we get you to us?”
“There’s a bay that serves both for launching and landing,” Brie told him. “A small shuttle should have no problem landing. Also, it has jump capabilities, but I would advise towing it during the jump because it’s been in Cylon hands for Lords knows how long.”
“Good call,” Apollo commented. “I’ll send a team of mechanics aboard during the jump, so they can check over every inch of it. Prepare your wounded, Major. It will probably take three trips, so prioritize the injuries. The first shuttle will be there in 10 centons.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good job, Major,” Apollo said. “Congratulations of the success of your mission. Commander Apollo out.”
Success. The word sounded so hollow, especially since the mission felt to her like a dismal failure.
* * *
LucianG
“Lu-cian!” cracked Solon as he walked into the room, his cane tapping the floor, “It may just be because of my age, but I’m tired. Those folks doing the repairs are a lot younger than me, but they’re tiring fast, too. They need rest.”
“Understood, Solon,” Lucian replied. “Take a look at this. Based on the reports so far, we’re not going to be able to complete all the repairs before the end of the jump without working serious overtime. We just don’t have enough people to get it all done. Therefore, I’m ordering all Science, Engineering, and Shop personnel split into three shifts for the next couple of cycles. It’s 8 centars on, 4 off, with everyone expected to get at least 3.5 centars of rest during that time. After that, we’ll be back on track with the normal two-shift cycle, but we’ll need to extend to an 11 on--5 off overtime schedule. We’ll reevaluate each cycle to see if we can cut back to normal, but we can’t afford not to have this ship reasonably operational when we arrive at Darjeelene.”
“You’re going to get a lot of opposition on this,” commented Solon, looking over the list. “A lot of tired people are going to be really unhappy about not getting enough rest.”
“Rest! They want rest? Don’t we all?” said Lucian sourly. “Well, if we don’t get this ship repaired by arrival in the Darjeelene system, then we all might just have eternity to rest.”
He issued the orders, which were immediately met by criticism by the workers. A short time later, the first group, which consisted of the majority of those who had been up longest, went to bed. With everything seemingly under control, Lucian, as part of that group, set his alarm for a 3.5 centar nap.
* * *
Beep Beep Beep!
Lucian turned off the timepiece alarm and rose from the bed. He felt as if he could have used another centar of sleep, but since he’d placed all of the Science, Engineering, and Shop workers on split overtime shifts, he knew he had to keep the same schedule. He spent a few minutes cleaning up, and then turned to dress. Looking at the soiled and torn blue uniform hanging from the hook, he reached into the small closet and pulled out an older tan Warrior’s uniform. A couple of centons later, he was on his way to check on the status of the work.
* * *
At the first group, he found a cart filled with food from the mess hall. To get the maximum productivity from his crews, he’d asked the cooks to deliver food to each crew every four centars as people were rotating on and off the split shifts. While they were getting as much rest as they’d like, everyone would at least be getting plenty to eat. He munched on a fruit-filled pastry, and then a nice redfruit as the crew chief explained the progress. Lucian, seeing excellent progress, stressed the need to keep up the good work, and thanked the crew for their efforts. “You all deserve a big thanks from our crew! My congratulations to you all!”
He moved on through three more crews, checking progress, and cheering on the brave men and women who were doing their best to restore the Callisto to working order. When he arrived at the fourth station, the look on the face of Master Mechanic Gataren told him that there was a problem.
* * *
Charybdis "In here!" yelled Lt. Finky...
A couple of med techs brought the Commander into the same room where I was being held by Finky. Once Hawke left the scene after punching Sheba, they brought her in to check her over.
"Seen better days, huh, Commander?" I said wryly.
"How do we get into these messes, Charybdis?" she painfully asked in response, rubbing her jaw.
After nodding the med techs away she got up and came over to me. I was still lying on the rolling med unit. "How are you doing?" she asked as she gently touched my on the arm.
I thought about that for a micron. "Well, I can't open my left eye, I can hardly move my left arm and I've got one heck of a headache!" was my only response. Then I quickly added, "how's the ship?"
"Beaten up pretty badly, but nothing we're not used to in dealing with the Cylons. We made the jump with the fleet and once we get to the next system we'll be able to make repairs using the fleet's resources which the Lords know, we could use since we've been gone so long..."
"Any word on the Gold team?" I asked almost not wanting to know...
Sheba shook her head. "No. No word. Some in the vipers made it back. They took some losses, we're still trying find out what happened, but once we made the jump, we lost all communication. I have no idea what happened to them. They were to rendezvouz with the Galactica if they make it out." Sheba almost caught herself with that last statement. She said it almost casually..."IF" they make it out.
She knew that Brie was a very special person to me having gone way back, and then there was Amy. It seemed everyone knew about that. Not knowing was the trouble. Maybe if we knew one way or the other it would be easier.
This happened the last time too. Yahrens ago. When I lost...Astraea. She was on a mission too and she never came back, although there were no witnesses to her death either. It was right then that I thought about the parallels to Brie. Her husband was lost on a mission too and never confirmed dead. He just went missing and that was that...
I prayed to the Lords of Kobol that that would not happen again. That it wouldn't happen to Amy or Brie...
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Post by LucianG on Aug 2, 2004 10:55:10 GMT -6
LucianG On getting the story from Gataren, Lucian told him to continue his work at the best pace possible. He strode through the corridors of the ship, many cluttered with the debris from the recent attack, until he arrived at Barracks J-9. On entry, he saw a many of the beds filled with sleeping Techs, having recently come off their long, tiring shift. However, three beds were occupied by those who were now supposed to be on duty. Checking the chart, he picked the nearest, and moved to the man's bunk.
"Nashur, wake up," he whispered. "You're duty shift is on now. Wake up, man! And don't awaken those who have just gone to bed."
Nashur shook his head, trying to come out of his sleep. "Sorry, sir, someone said to get up, but I went back to sleep." He climbed out of bed, "Very sorry, sir. On my way." He slipped on his pants, grabbed the rest of his clothes and boots, and was on his way.
The second man was several bunks over from Nashur. Lucian didn't recognize the name, though when he saw the sleeping man, he knew he'd seen him before around the Callisto. He shook his shoulder. "Tech Ungler, wake up! You're on duty now. Get to your post, and don't wake the others," Lucian whispered. There were several "shhhh's" from those trying to sleep nearby. He shook Ungler again, finally getting through to the still tired worker. Moments later, Ungler too was out of his bunk and on his way. Then, Lucian moved on to the real trouble.... * * * Charybdis Sheba had left a few centons later and had left me alone with Lt. Finky for the time being. She neared my gurney and wondered aloud, "what is going on, Colonel?" Her wide-eyed look almost made me laugh. She seemed so...innocent. What she was doing in the Colonial military, I have no idea.
Doc BKJ finally came in to check me over a little more thoroughly. Nothing broken, thank goodness, and my eye was a bit blinded by the sudden flash when the control panel exploded, but nothing but some eye drops and some rest wouldn't cure. She put an eye patch over it and put my arm in a sling, it needed some rest as well. Some minor burns and a pulled ligament when I hit the floor were all that were wrong with it...
With that and with the dire need for medical rooms for those more seriously injured, I was released with the orders for Lt. Finky to help me back to my quarters where I would be stationed and confined for at least the next several cycles for recovery.
The young Lt. helped me up and held my arm as she guided me out of the Med Lab toward my quarters. It would be nice to get some rest in my own bed. * * * LucianG Corporal Wykglif was well known in the Mechanical Corps. He was very, very good at his job; however, he had never advanced further in rank due to an attitude problem the size of small planet. He didn’t take orders well, which was a severe shortcoming on a military vessel, so his immediate supervisor, Sergeant Qualar had become very good at giving more difficult orders in the form of “very important requests.” Wykglif often complied with what he felt were reasonable actions, though he refused such “requests” on occasion, usually making a spectacle of the refusal, thereby drawing enough attention to himself to insure that he never moved up the leadership ladder.
Sergeant Qualar was currently in critical condition in the Med Lab, the results of burns suffered over much of his body while he attempted to shut down a burst connector line during the attack. He had succeeded in shutting it down as he collapsed, which allowed a rescue team to pull him out of the compartment. Doc BKJ thought he would live, but he would need much skin reconstruction. This left Wykglif temporarily without a strong authority figure, or in the case of Sergeant Qualar, a reasonable one, directing his work. Therefore, when it was time to get up, he had simply refused to get out of his bunk, and had promptly gone back to sleep.
Lucian looked at the sleeping corporal, and then put his hand on his shoulder to awaken him. “Corporal Wykglif,” he said in a whispered voice, “you’re on duty now. Get up.”
Wykglif opened one eye, spotted Lucian, and said, “Frack you and the bastard equinii you rode in on. I’ve worked hard, and now I need my rest, so get out and leave me the frack alone.” Wykglif’s voice went up steadily in volume as he completed his statement.
“Corporal, QUIET!” whispered Lucian. “There are a great number of people who are off duty now. You’re not one of them, though, so get your rear out of this bunk, and get to your duty station.”
Wykglif looked directly at the Captain and said, “What you gonna do, CAPTAIN? Gonna report me to the Commander? Call Security? You better do it quick, cause I’m going to go back to bed. Now!” Almost all those attempting to sleep in nearby bunks were awake by now, looking to see what was happening. Several only half awake were issuing very irritated sounding “Shhhs.”
“No, Corporal,” Lucian replied in a normal volume. “The Security guys are quite busy at the moment dealing with rescue ops and some other crisis. They don’t have time to deal with foul mouthed babies who refuse to follow orders. I’m going to give you five microns to be out of that berth, and if you’re not out by then, I’m going to have to make you sorry you weren’t. Five…four…” When he reached zero, Lucian was about to reach out with his left hand to grasp Wykglif’s arm in order to pull him from the bunk, but Wykglif rolled out of the bunk, slinging his hand upward. Lucian, spotting a glint of metal, sidestepped, wincing as he did at the pain in his knee. The knife sailed by, just slashing the sleeve of his tunic instead of ripping his belly open. Lucian took a step back as a chorus of exclamations and shouts of “He’s got a knife” rang out. Most of those who moments before had been trying to sleep were now up and watching the fight, but no one seemed interested in interfering.
“Wykglif snarled angrily, “Captain, this is a knife that used to belong to a Borellian Noman. I won it in a Pyramid game many yahrens ago, and it’s got a very interesting story. To keep things short so I can get back to sleep, it’s as sharp now as it was then. Let’s just say, I don’t mind using it, either. If you don’t back down and get out of here, I’ll use it to carve you into so many pieces the docs won’t be able to sew you back together.”
In a smooth motion, Lucian raised his right hand slightly and said steadily, “Corporal Wykglif, that’s a pretty weapon, but this,” revealing his hand fully, “is a Colonial Mark IV laser pistol set on maximum setting. I got it from the Weapons Master, and it’s story is that it rides on my leg in case I have to kill Cylons or blow holes in rebellious corporals who are too sleepy to realize the utter stupidity of their situation. Let’s just say that I don’t want to use it, but if you don’t drop that blasted knife and get to work, the next thing blasted will be you. And no, if that happens, I don’t think Doc will be putting you back together either.”
Wykglif’s resolve slipped on seeing the drawn laser pistol. Sergeant Qualar didn’t have a laser pistol, and would have backed down immediately under the same circumstances, so Wykglif suddenly felt panicked. Realizing that Lucian was an officer meaning business, he said, “Sir! I…How do I…we resolve this, Sir?”
“Place the knife on the bunk, get your clothes on, and report to work for a full 12 centar shift, and then it never happened. Did everyone hear that? It never happened, right?” Lucian said to the onlookers.
“Nope! Never,” said one and the others agreed. “Didn’t see a thing!”
Wykglif dropped the knife, and quickly dressed. As he exited silently, he glared at Lucian, but Lucian detected a slight nod of acknowledgment. At least, he thought he did.
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