|
Post by LucianG on Apr 30, 2005 7:17:57 GMT -6
Agelastus Alpha bay was a paradox, a hive of activity whilst being almost deserted. The absence of the majority of Gold Squadron’s Vipers hadn’t reduced the number of techs in the main bay. It just meant that more of them swarmed around each of their charges still present. It appeared that a pair of shuttles had been moved into the main area to be worked on as well.
The senior techs never left hands idle for long.
I’d decided to check on my Viper first. The major had not explicitly taken me off flight duty, so I reasoned that that part of my orders took priority. For all I knew, another launch could be called at a micron’s notice.
Not that the state of my Viper when I approached looked that hopeful. With her after-baffles stripped it looked as if half of the turbo-array was scattered across the deck, splashes of white against the dulled gray.
I looked around for Caledon. Not immediately spying him, I approached the senior tech working on my Viper, identifying her by her rank and specialty tabs. I coughed when she didn’t immediately notice me. She stood easily, showing no signs of being startled by my presence. I didn’t recognize her; from her face, it looked as if she might have been fifteen. Certainly, since I couldn’t place her, she was another new graduate of one of the many accelerated training programs on the Callisto and in the fleet.
Still, even for that, she did look young.
“Sir?” she asked. Typically tech-style, though - no salute.
I gestured at the wreck of my Viper. “I came to check the status of my Viper. Looks like I needn’t have bothered though.”
“Oh, no sir.” The tech patted my Viper’s lower port Turbo. “She’ll be right as rain soon enough. Looks worse than it is. Won’t take us more than a centar to put her back together, maybe less.”
Right as rain? I wondered if she could even remember what rain felt like. Examining my Viper more closely, it looked as if the primary fuel cells for at least two of the Turbos were being yanked. From experience, it looked to me more like a full-shift job to finish.
“Looks pretty radical,” I said, inviting an explanation.
“Not really sir,” she shrugged. “Couldn’t be avoided really – not when we got the preliminary of the fuel consumption analysis and ran a vapor test on your tanks.
“Micro-fractures, sir,” she continued when I made no verbal response, just continued studying my Viper. “Odd though. We had a good team looking over your Viper before it launched, but even the best can miss something.”
True enough. The term micro-fracture had already clued me in to the rest of the explanation that was coming. Despite everything that human technology can do, metal and vacuum don’t really mix. Prolonged exposure causes brittleness in almost any substance – and our Vipers were in constant use. The rest was simple. Heat and gravity, basically.
The temperature transition between the bay and space actually causes parts of our Vipers to shrink and expand almost infinitesimally. Normally, this action occurs in all planes simultaneously, but any flaw, such as an undetected micro-fracture, can be expanded by this process. Then there’s the fuel we use. In a gravity field it’s easy to measure, its molecules forming large clusters. In space, as more of it’s used, it becomes a vapor as it expands to keep the entire volume of the tank filled in the absence of a constant unidirectional “pull”. Fuel gauges on spacecraft don’t measure depth; they measure pressure. “Burning vapor” is a cliché, but that’s exactly what we do most of the time.
Which explained the pattern of my fuel consumption, the part the tech had just got to as I tuned back in.
“So, soon after launch you were burning fuel approximately five percent over standard, but by the time you landed the fuel had vaporized to such an extent, with the accompanying increase in the rate of evacuation, that this had increased to thirteen percent over standard usage.
“You know sir? You’re lucky you got back at all.”
“Yes. I think you’re right,” I replied. Then I patted my Viper. “This old lady’s got a lot of heart still.” I chuckled.
“Yes, sir,” she grinned. “I guess she has.”
I left her to return to the repairs, rejoining the other techs that had continued to work all the while, not letting my presence interfere with their work. Professionals to the bone.
As I left I didn’t let anyone see how much her report had disturbed me. Micro-fractures did happen, and they could be missed........although it would be an unusual occurrence on the Callisto, whose techs were good even by the standards of the pre-Holocaust fleet.
Still, I wonder.......... * * * I took a slightly unusual route back to the main computer room.
Normally one wouldn’t have gone via the forward atmosphere scrubbers and the lower tier of the main “sludge” tanks, the ship’s recyclers. Most warriors avoided the area like the proverbial plague, finding in its’ dank environs and twilight corridors a feeling of tightness liable to wake the latent claustrophobia that seemed dormant in the majority of successful pilots. However, I was hoping to run into someone. Someone in particular.
For the first time in what felt like to many centars, I got lucky. As I turned a corner paralleling one of the main control runs I almost literally fell over her as she bent industriously over an open access hatch to a scrubber from which emerged a nauseating, and distinctly unhealthy sounding whine.
My quick back-step to catch my balance caused a slight clicking noise, attracting her attention. She stood swiftly.
“Agelastus,” she said, in a distinctly unfriendly voice. I took in her sweat cloaked form, brown hair matted and hanging dully around her face. She looked like she was on the final stretch of a triple shift, an idea that I thought unlikely even as my mind formulated it. I knew her after all.
Her name, according to the official records on the Callisto, was Quiver.
“What are you doing here?” she continued.
My answer was to grab her and slam her up against the wall. I tend to have a very suspicious nature, and the report on my Viper had triggered my paranoia. My right hand was grasping her painfully by the upper arm.
“Put me down,” she muttered in a disturbingly low voice. Without looking down, I could feel the point of what was probably a small, illicit, gun pressed against my chest in the genuine vicinity of my heart.
“Drop it,” I said, glancing downwards meaningfully. She followed my gaze and turned slightly paler as she registered the slip-blade that had materialized in my left hand, pressing gently against her abdomen. Its wafer thin surface had a razor sharp point; it would have no trouble slipping in and upwards.
Although not technically illegal, it is vanishingly rare to see a warrior carrying one of them. She got the message. Her gun disappeared back inside her uniform to wherever she stored it. I eased my grip slightly.
“Your contacts, Quiver. Have you heard of anyone putting my name out for tender?” I said, getting straight to the point. As she knew, my question was whether or not any of the various “shadows” on the Callisto had put a price on my head. Again.
She shook her head in quick denial. “No, not a whisper. Not since before you joined the Callisto anyway......” she trailed off.
I knew the incident she meant, occurring as it had whilst I had been incarcerated on the Prison Barge. The Sorayama tended to be a fairly unforgiving bunch. Her answer didn’t relieve me much. The odds that my Viper’s mishap had been accidental were at least fifty percent; the chance that Quiver was telling me the unvarnished truth was considerably less than that.
“Besides,” she added viciously, “you have enough people who want to kill you, eh? You’re not exactly popular Agelastus.”
She was, of course, one hundred percent correct. She was equally right about those words momentarily distracting me, her knee coming up, sweeping aside the dull lower edge of my blade and knocking me off balance.
I hit my head against a bulkhead.
Surprisingly enough, I actually saw the much clichéd “stars”.
|
|
|
Post by LucianG on Apr 30, 2005 7:18:53 GMT -6
Agelastus As I stood gracelessly slumped against the wall, my mind vaguely registering the patter of Quiver’s disappearing steps, my thoughts began to wander.
For a while, I slipped into the worlds of memory, and of waking dreams.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The whiteness covering the lower slopes of Grade’s Peak, keystone of the chain of mountains that formed the backbone of Sagittara’s northern continent, hurt my eyes with the brightness of the reflected suns even through the polarised material of my snow goggles. As I shook my head, clearing the accumulated snow from the fringes of my fur cap, I blinked blearily.
In the distance, I could still hear the fading roar and cracking of the last vestiges of the avalanche that had so nearly claimed me only microns earlier.
“You’re insane!” were the first words from my mouth.
The person to whom they were directed was just standing, brushing the snow off her leggings. Pausing, she looked up at my face from her position on the slope below me. Then, shrugging, she pulled off her cap and thrust her goggles up onto her forehead, shaking her head to let a more than shoulder length flare of golden red hair flap out, an out of place flash of vibrancy against the stark background.
For a moment, all I could do was think of how unusual the colour of her hair was for this region. Northern Sagittarans tended to the medium; medium height, medium brown hair and eyes, medium build. I was slightly taller than the norm myself.
Oh – and northern Sagittarans tended to the clannish to. Her looks were probably indicative of an off-world, or at least southern, origin.
Or so I thought, until she opened her mouth and the same accent as the one I’d sported before reporting to the military academy on Caprica emerged from her mouth.
“And would you have preferred that I’d left you to die?” she grinned impishly at me. Suddenly I realised how young she looked, not a day over fifteen yahrens standard.
I had no real answer to that, after all. My little skiing trip prior to my final training rotation had come to close to ending in disaster. Mostly because I’d been so absorbed by the view that I hadn’t noticed half a mountain heading towards me at something greater than breakneck speed, and had been all unknowingly skiing right into its’ path!
Still, my rescuer had to have skied all the way across the front of the avalanche to get close enough to reach me. By any rational standard, that was insane. Below us and to our right, much further down the slope, a single ski stuck forlornly out of the snow. I wondered uneasily what had become of its’ owner.
“My name’s Agelastus,” I finally said. “I’d be honoured to know yours.”
She laughed, a quicksilver sound. “Tyche.
“My name’s Tyche.” * * * In the corridor in the bowels of the Callisto, as my brain struggled its’ way back to full consciousness, my mind still wandered.
**************************
The beta launch bay of the Acropolis was huge.
That was the first thought of every cadet who entered it, or any of the other launch bays of the various battlestars in the Colonial fleet. Battlestars that were even as I stood in the noisy confines of the bay powering through space in the direction of the Star Kobol, and the rendezvous with the Cylon representatives to the Armistice signing.
The war for which we had been trained in what felt at times like an almost desperate haste was over. All done bar a few signatures; signatures that made the future for any of the cadets around me more uncertain, albeit safer. Would a peace scale fleet need the services of so many newly minted warriors..........
“Agelastus! Pay attention!” came from the front of our little group of cadets, as the instructor, Lieutenant Karsten, noticed my moment of introspection. One of the many grizzled veterans that the Academy boasted on its’ teaching staff, his lack of a right leg was only noticeable in the way it precluded him from maintaining his flight certification.
This centar our cadet group was standing around a Viper whose inner workings were exposed to the bay, due to the fact that every maintenance panel had been opened.
Emergency maintenance primer. Standard these days as part of Escape and Evasion compulsory courses among others. Given the upcoming Armistice, another aspect of my training that I was wondering if I’d ever use.
The alert claxon took us all by surprise. Several of my colleagues literally jumped.
Fifteen microns later, even as Karsten, among others, tried to contact Command for orders, the first explosion rocked the ship. The remnants of a blast of what was originally superheated air caused me to stir as I looked across the bay at the wall of flames that had mysteriously appeared in the entry to one of the three cross-routes into the Acropolis’ main hull.
Karsten stiffened at the sight. “Launch!” he almost literally screamed, swinging around to face us. “What are you waiting for, Lords damn it! Launch!”
“What?” A slow-on-the-uptake fellow cadet of mine spoke up.
Karsten’s reply reached me as I was already heading for a Viper on the launch rails. “Get to a Viper and launch. There’s a Cylon attack going on, and they just cut off the most direct route for our warriors to get to the bay!”
My last sight of Karsten as the Viper I’d purloined hurtled down the launch tube was of him nearly knocking over another recalcitrant cadet as he pushed the young woman towards one of the remaining Vipers. Then I was in space, what seemed like hundreds of Cylon raiders soaring across my field of vision.
As I accelerated madly, I had a micron to realise whose Viper I was in.
Tanais’.
----Fragments.
----A Cylon exploding ahead of me as my bolts caught it as it turned.
----Screams as the Viper of one of my fellow cadets spun away, flames spreading through the cockpit, before the main tanks blew ending her agony.
----Wheeling over the Acropolis’ hull, losing track of the Cylon I was chasing as a pillar of flame rose from one of the aft cooling vents for the main energiser.
----A massive flash, later recognised as having been the destruction of another battlestar, barely noted as I wildly rolled, dodging the bolts of a triad of Raiders.
----Fuel dropping, turning towards the Acropolis. Noting that areas of her hull glowed cherry red. Watching the explosions race along Alpha bay as they tore it away from the main hull, sending secondary explosions shooting into the main hull. Seeing at least one of the energisers go, sheets of flame erupting behind a march of explosions along the upper portion of the main hull. The final flashes as the Acropolis tore herself apart from within.
----Spying the Galactica as she returned to the battle zone.
----“Not a good start” ringing round and round my skull, as I brought my damaged Viper into a limping landing.
|
|
|
Post by LucianG on Apr 30, 2005 7:20:02 GMT -6
Agelastus In the depths of the Callisto, my mind nearly reached its’ goal of consciousness. While it waited for success though, the part that held my memories kept me in waking dreams.
* * * * * * * *
The greenery around me seemed to glow against the stars.
Simulating night, the lights of the Agro ship were turned down. Ordinarily a dome dedicated to raising food as intensively and rapidly as possible would not receive many visitors, nor would they be allowed.
But the orchard area and adjoining herb meadow was the closest thing to a park the fleet had.
I’d come here for some solitude, a precious commodity in the yahren after the Holocaust, after the destruction of the Colonies. Valued by all who needed time to think and remember. And grieve.
Hearing a rustle behind me, I realized that this time I hadn’t been successful.
“Agelastus. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Sheba’s voice. Probably more words at one time than Cain’s daughter had ever spoken to me outside the cockpit of a Viper. I’d heard two sets of footsteps, but I didn’t need to turn to know who her companion had to be.
The stranger. The self-styled count. Iblis.
Trying to make my voice friendlier than I felt, I replied. “Hello, Sheba. I was just admiring the view.”
”Indeed, a view to be admired,” a melodious and, presumably, seductive voice spoke from behind Sheba. Finally turning, I noted mildly that he seemed to enjoy the shadows. I found it unlikely that his positioning was indicative of his “following” Sheba.
“Count Iblis, I presume,” I said. “The man who makes promises.”
”Yes,” he replied, stepping forward. Did I detect a hint of annoyance at my almost cavalier dismissal of his words? “Promises I can and will keep. With the approval of your Council, of course.”
For some reason, I didn’t like him much. Just these few words were setting me on edge.
He continued. “And what would you need, Lieutenant? To follow me as your leaders will soon agree to do.”
He was a confident man; I’d give him that. Looking him in the face, I began to get a little nervous. His eyes were cold, but at the same time they felt as if they were looking deep into my soul; deep at all the things I kept buried down there.
“There’s nothing you could offer me, Count.”
“Nothing? You surprise me, Lieutenant.”
“Trust.” I blurted out. Sheba looked at me very strangely, but Iblis almost seemed to sigh. Somehow he’d known what I meant. That I trusted no one. No one at all.
When rumours reached me later of his identity (via an overheard conversation), I realized just how badly that answer had stymied him in the role he was playing. Although further reflection let me see that a clever being could use it as a lever, if he was playing another role.
Mouthing meaningless pleasantries, the three of us separated. Looking back, I could see Iblis moving closer to Sheba.
I really thought she had better taste than that.
* * * * * * * *
With a start, I became fully conscious. Glancing around the ill-lit corridor, shaking my head to clear it, I grimaced.
That had been careless.
Then, glancing at my chronometer, I realized how long I’d been leaning there, dazed and vulnerable.
I needed to get up to the main computer room fast, lest anyone in Command wonder where I was. * * * Brie Back on the Callisto, Lieutenant Najinn landed. He and Lieutenant Hawke had left the main Gold Squadron battle, following a couple of Cylon Raiders to see if they could find their base star. Since Major Joey, after talking to Brie, had been the one to declare that Najinn and Hawke were overdue, he reported to her.
"No signs of a base star, Ma'am," Najinn said. "We couldn't figure out where they were coming from. When we broke off we ran into at least 30 more Raiders. My fuel was running low, so I knew I had to return."
"What about Lieutenant Hawke?" Joey asked.
"We were seperated," Najinn replied. "I don't know what happened to him. He disappeared off my scanner but my instruments were damaged from one of the hits I took, so I can't say for sure if his ship was destroyed."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Dismissed." Joey shared the information with several other bridge staff members. The decision had to be made whether or not to send out a search party for Hawke, but since his viper had disappeared in the middle of 30 Raiders it didn't look good. Hawke was officially declared missing.
|
|
|
Post by LucianG on Apr 30, 2005 7:20:54 GMT -6
JustinB I walked into the Launch Bay after consuming some food and drink. As I did so I was besieged with questions from all of my warriors.
"I will promise to answer all your questions about by meeting with Commander Apollo, when we arrive back on the Callisto." I said. "For now we are heading back to the Last known co-ordinates of the Callisto. We will be flying back in two flights of three. Ensigns Jaz and Brotherjoe you will be flying with me. Lieutenants Rose and Anabis, you will be flying with Captain Randrius. Randrius will be handing all of us the latest Long Range scans along the route towards the Callisto's last known position. With a little luck we might just meet up with her along the way. If there aren't any questions, preflight your vipers and once we have the scans we will launch."
There were no questions from anyone. As I left the ready room, Rose pulled me aside. "If it pleases the Major, may I give him a kiss too last him to we meet on the Callisto."
Without answering her, I placed my arms around her and gave her a kiss. I was about to give her a hug when Randrius arrived with the scans. I told him to distribute them and then to get in his viper. Pecking Rose on the cheek, I told her to do the same. As I approached my new Scarlet Viper, I saw a tech working new the canopy. As I drew closer, I noticed that he had placed my name on it. After saying thanks to the flight tech I climbed in and placed the data disc in a storage compartment. Five centons later with the scans inputted into the computer, I received confirmation that both flights were ready to launch.
“Galactica control this is Callisto Black flight requesting clearance to launch.”
“Callisto Black flight, this is Galactica control launch when ready.”
As I hit the turbos, I noticed how smooth the launch was compared to my old viper. I had to keep this viper. Within microns my flight joined upon me and we made our way to the Callisto. * * * The scanning range of the Scarlet class Viper was definitely superior to my old viper. We hadn't picked up the Callisto yet, but I was sure we would soon. It wasn't long before I saw a blip on the forward scanner. Whatever it was seemed to be stationary. It would lead us away slightly from our reunion with the Callisto, but my gut feeling was to check it out.
When were close enough I scanned it for identification. A few microns, Warbook said it was a Colonial Viper with a Human life form reading. Cautiously, we approached the unknown ship. As we got into visual range, it was confirmed that Warbook was right. The viper had significant battle damage. When we looked at the pilot, he seemed to be unconscious.
"Major," it was Randrius, "what are we going to do."
"Randrius, you are going to hook up a tow cable and tow him back to the Galactica. It is the closest Battlestar that we know of. I will assign Ensign Jazz with you, while Brotherjoe and I head back to the Callisto. I need to get this data disk to Commander Sheba." I replied.
"Ok JustinB, consider it done. Just make sure you get back to the Callisto in one piece."
"May the Lords of Kobol be with you all." With that Brotherjoe and I made our way back along the route to the Callisto's last known co-ordinates.
Ninety centons later I had the Callisto on my scanner. About time too I said to myself. "Callisto, this is Black Alpha requesting permission to land in beta landing bay."
"Black Alpha this is Core Control, permission granted and welcome back."
"Core control, please advise the Commander that I need to see her once I have gone through Decontamination." * * * Randrius As Randrius watched Justin and BrotherJoe's turbos fade to dots, he turned to the matter at hand. With a soft hand he gently nudged his Viper up in front of the crippled ship and swung his ship around. He toggled the computer and locked the tow gun in the fighter stern on to the derelict ship. He fired and felt the tunk of the magnetic appendage locking on. He gave the fighter a little thrust and drifted forward. The cable tightened and the Viper fell in behind him. With that, he began the slow and ponderous haul back to the Galactica. There was only one way to pass the time, "Damaged Viper, this is Captain Randrius of Black Squadron, do you hear me? I'm towing you to the Galactica, so hang on." * * * Lucian Her voice had an almost amused sense of annoyance when she said, "Yes, Lucian?"
"Sorry, BatGal, but I was wondering if there was any word?" he replied.
Her sigh basically told it all. "Gold is limping back in, but nothing from Black's group."
"Justin's rescue group hasn't reported either?"
"Nothing. Sorry."
"Let's just hope they encountered the Galactica," he said in a low, distressed voice. Both majors, both formerly head of Black Squadron, were keeping their former squadron mates, and their Gold Squadron friends as well, in their prayers. "Let me know...."
"Will do...."
Lucian turned back to the task at hand. "Now, Solon, you explained how you tried that, but have you looked at it this way....?" * * * JustinB Upon landing a small crowd gathered round my viper. The arrival of a new class of viper had them intrigued. As I climbed out of the cockpit, my flight crew asked me where I had obtained it. Not willing to answer any questions I turned to Brotherjoe.
"Brotherjoe, I need to go through decontamination then onwards to see the Commander. Till then, you are ordered to look after my viper and not let anyone touch it. I will send a relief to you ASAP and then you are of duty till further notice."
"Yes Major. But please do not be too long with the relief." he replied.
I ducked into the nearest De-con unit. During which I tried to figure out what I would say to the Commander. Once finished I took the quickest route to the bridge, holding on very tight to the data disc given to me by Commander Apollo. * * * Randrius Randrius listened for a response over his channel but after a few minutes of silent flying, he concluded the pilot would not be responding anytime soon. Hopefully, they weren't seriously injured and it was just a comm malfunction. Randrius thought a moment and then toggled a switched that started the cable motor unwinding, after it had unwinded a good one hundred yards behind him, he killed the cable motor. "Alright Ensign, prepare to go to standard cruising speed, I want to get this guy back to the Galactica in a hurry, he could be injured." "Understood, Captain," came Jaz's reply. He hit his thrusters slowly, easing up to speed. 'Alright mystery pilot, we'll have you on the Galactica in no time,' he thought.
|
|
|
Post by LucianG on Apr 30, 2005 7:21:50 GMT -6
Lucian When he’d abruptly been ordered to report to Solon and Fallel to assist with their deciphering project, Lucian had been quite skeptical of the value of his assistance. It seemed more like Commander Sheba had found a good excuse to boot him off the Bridge before he could mess up again. He’d begun to feel like he was starting to redeem himself over the past few cycles since his recent run-ins with the Commander, but now….
However, it hadn’t taken him long to begin to enjoy the assignment. The science gurus had already deciphered approximately ninety percent of the Cylon’s data disc, but that last ten percent held the key to the location of the secret Cylon manufacturing base. The first few centars of their work had consisted of Lucian asking questions, which Fallel, or sometimes Solon in near complete exasperation, had answered. Finally, fed up with the situation, Solon, who remembered the near absurdity of Lucian’s one previous ‘interference’ with the work, had asked, “Now Major, tell me this—just what in the seven heavens is your perceived background for doing cipher work? What gives you the idea that you can be of assistance in this situation?”
Lucian rubbed his eyes, then looked directly at Solon. “Solon, I don’t know that I can be of assistance, but Commander Sheba ordered me here to do this, and do it I will. As for my background, I grew up on a research vessel manned by research scientists. There were no children, so everyone was my teacher and my friend. My lessons often took the form of games. I did code work for fun sometimes. Chances are, since this is more complex than anything I’ve ever seen, I won’t be able to contribute, but since I’m under orders, you’d better believe I’m going to try.”
Solon appeared ready to make a cutting remark, but then his face transformed into a grin and said, “Fair enough, Major. Just wanted to make sure you were taking this seriously.”
Fallel, who’d been busy looking at the three monitors in front of them throughout most of the exchange, turned to Lucian and said, “Now, if we could just get these things to process faster. With all the demands on the Callisto and despite the importance of this little project that’s been going for sectars, our computing power is far too limited.”
Lucian smiled and said, “Now that might be something we can solve….”
* * *
A few centars later, with significant computer resources reassigned at Major Lucian’s command with the Commander’s concurrence, the work was proceeding at a much faster pace. Fallel estimated that it would only take a few cycles at the current pace…if it could be solved at all.
Lucian had continued to ask questions throughout the session. He noticed some strange looks passed between the elderly man and his young assistant following a couple of exchanges. Fallel pounded in new parameters after each of these, and periodically responded to queries from the computer program. He was almost constantly modifying the code. Lucian, by now exhausted, closed his eyes for a few moments of rest.
Sometime later, a gentle shake awoke him. “Major Lucian, Major BatGal just called. Major JustinB will be to the Bridge for a meeting in just a few cycles.”
Relief flooded Lucian’s thoughts. “And the others?”
“No word, Lucian. At least she didn’t tell us. We’ll have to find out when we get there.”
“What do you mean?” Lucian asked, still somewhat groggy.
“We’re finished!” Fallel said with a great smile. “We know the location of the base. Let’s go, man!”
Lucian looked at Solon in disbelief. “You’re done?”
Solon replied, “Yes, We’re done. Now, come on, and comb what’s left of your hair!”
Solon whistled as he began the walk to the Bridge, his cane with the gold ball thumping rhythmically on the deck as he went. * * * JustinB Word had spread that I had landed and had just come back from the Galactica. So upon my arrival on the Callisto Bridge, I was besieged by bridge staff welcoming me back and asking questions about the Galactica and the fleet. I saw Colonel Charybdis once the crowd dispersed and made my way over to him.
"Major JustinB reporting Sir."
"Welcome home Major. I hear you want to speak to Commander Sheba. Can I ask what it is about?" Colonel Charybdis asked inquisitively.
"Sir, I was asked to report some facts to Commander Sheba by Commander Apollo himself Sir. The fate of the entire fleet may well depend on the information being kept to as few people as possible. So if I may Sir, By your Leave."
"The Commander is waiting for you in her War Room, Dismissed!" he replied.
I entered the War Room and there was Commander Sheba, coolly sitting and waiting for me. "Welcome Back Major."
"Thanks Ma'am. To make this as quickly as possible, everything that happened before landing on the Galactica will be in my report. Commander Apollo has given me a message to give to you." The commander hearing Commander Apollo's name stirred something inside her. "Ma’am this is for your ears only. President Tigh and Commander Apollo believe that there may be a traitor on the Quorum of Twelve, not so much to help the Cylons, but possibly to force the Galactica into one particular route or another. There is a feeling that many people just want to escape and settle on a planet somewhere, far away from the Cylons. In a roundabout way Ma’am, is that President Tigh’s power is largely being usurped by the Council. He only has a couple of real allies, and a couple of others he can draw upon occasionally. He’s holding the Presidency by the lack of unity of his enemies, who seemingly hate each other slightly more than they hate him. But for now, he holds it.”
At hearing that there might be a traitor, Commander Sheba was aghast at the thought. I then went on to tell her about what happened to the Galactica in the Pangara system, when they sent out our survey ships to locate a jump point for the Krestania system. Once I finished my report I handed over the data disc. * * * Agelastus When I finally made it up to the main computer room, my entry went unnoticed.
The duty crew seemed to be more interested in the news one of their number had just brought from the bridge. Standing quietly, I heard the news, or rather the rumours.
The news was that Major Justin had returned.
The rumour was that the Galactica and the Fleet had been found. Now all that was needed was the official announcement from Command.
The rumour should have had me as excited as the other people in the main Computer room. Unfortunately, I had one to many aches and pains, both physical and mental.
"Corporal!" I spat out, attracting the attention of one of them.
"I need a copy of the flight data of my last patrol. I have Major Lucian's authorisation."
|
|
|
Post by LucianG on Apr 30, 2005 7:22:46 GMT -6
Randrius "Control, this is Captain Randrius of Black Squad, I'm coming in with a crippled Viper in tow, I need some space cleared for landing and a med team standing by, I'm not sure how bad off this guy is." "Control here, we read you, give us a second to clear the bay." There was a pause of about ten seconds, then the controller voice crackled back over the comms, "Alright Captain, clearance granted, we're ready for you." Randrius slowed his ship gradually, using the rear of his fighter in a very unconventional way to halt the drifting Viper behind him. He winced as he heard the sound of metal grinding against metal. As slow as he dared, he maneuvered into the landing bay, trying damnedest to keep the crippled ship behind him nose up and in line. He touched down softly and heard the other fighter crash to ground behind him. He hit the release on the canopy and jumped out of his fighter. A med team was swarming around the Viper and he saw them lift a body out of the cock-pit, he stood on his tip-toes to try and get a view of the pilots face, but numerous bodies blocked his line of sight. He saw brief glimpses of the pilot on a stretcher, being wheeled off to the med lab. And still, he didn't have a clue who it was. * * * Brie Half of what Skyler had just said hadn’t yet sunk in for Brie. “I wouldn’t approve your transfer,” she said slowly. “And that’s not because of the way I feel about you. It’s because I need you, Gold Squadron needs you, exactly where you are. The transfer would probably go through eventually, but I would stall it as long as I could.” She sighed. “The frustrating thing is, if anybody could balance a ‘traditional relationship’ as you called it with their duties within the squadron, it would be you and me. But with my breakdown, and since Charybdis is the only higher-ranking official who knows that I faked it, I’m sure that any involvement that I would have with anyone would be scrutinized. There’s more than one person who thought I shouldn’t be allowed to continue as a viper pilot, let alone lead a squadron.”
“You’ve proved them wrong,” Skyler said.
“Thanks.” Skyler was still holding Brie’s hand, and she made no effort to pull away. “Being friends is good. Things stay the way they are, no complications. And I still have my self-appointed protector. But promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” Skyler asked.
“We’ll rethink the situation if you win the next election.” * * * Skyler A smile creeped over Skyler's face at Brie's last remark.
"And what was so funny?"
"If I win the next election?... that’s all..."
"So Skyler, I still don't get it. You are a senior member of the squadron, and..."
"Brie, during the last election, I know I campaigned harder for you, than I did myself. Frack, I even voted for you. For me to win I .........."
Skyler was cut short by a loud hissing sound and a series of pops coming from the door.
"Frack!!!" followed by several more colorful words could be heard outside the access panel.
"Looks like our rescue party has showed up. And not a micron to soon." Brie said as she glanced down at her personal comm unit. A text message just flashed across the screen about a staff meeting in a few centons. "Skyler, I promise we will finish our talk soon."
Brie and Skyler stood and walked to the door, waiting for the tech outside to open it. Brie took these last few microns she knew they would be alone to give him one last hug, to feel his arms around her again. As she pulled away, Skyler took her hand and gently kissed the back of it.
As the door finally slid open, they resumed the roles of Captain and Major again.
"Well its about time, I am almost late for a meeting." Brie said as she slipped out the door.
"Major, I will go and check on the squadron. Staff meetings usually mean something is going to go down, and we need to be ready."
With that, they went their separate ways.....
|
|