Earth 2010 - The Colonies of Kobol Reunited Chapters 18

CHAPTER 18

FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:

The year is 2012, and it has been just under two years since our last contact with the Cylons. Since then Earth has experienced peace and a startling transformation amongst the populous. Space exploration has proceeded at an amazing pace, and the lost thirteenth colony of Kobol has taken to the stars with an amazing hunger for a knowledge that the twelve colonies have long taken for granted. Two former ships in the fleet have been converted into scientific research vessels that have been tasked with research within the solar system, and a third ship has been reassigned as a luxury liner that for a price allows the citizens of Earth to view the planets up close.

On a military front, the latest Battlestar has entered service. The Battlestar Polaris is the latest Earth Defense Force achievement. A little over six thousand feet in length, the Polaris is much larger than GALACTICA. Like most Battlestars, the Polaris is a hybrid of carrier and battleship, but her air wing compliment is that of more than three Battlestars consisting of four hundred Mark II and Mark VII vipers that have recently been put in production. In the two years, that the Earth pilots have flown the Mark II it has been decided to advance to the Mark VII in small increments. Countries once antagonistic to each other have become friends, and extreme hunger and poverty is close to being completely eradicated on the planet thanks to the tireless efforts of former Colonial President Laura Roslin’s taskforce comprised of skilled specialists from Earth and the Colonies. Earth’s future is amazingly bright, and her defense forces strengthen to a razor’s edge. While the EDF pales in comparison to the Colonial armed forces prior to the Holocaust, it is making awe-inspiring progress under the circumstances of Earth’s level of technological advancement that continues to grow exponentially under our advocacy.

Twenty-two months ago, we last encountered the Cylons, and one of their own brought about their defeat. D’Anna Biers, the third model created out of a reported twelve models of humanoid Cylons. With the help of Earth scientists, D’Anna was able to replicate a virus that would wreak havoc upon Cylon physiology, both humanoid and the cybernetic versions. We have no idea if the affected Cylons were able to download to new bodies, but the fact that no Cylon presence has been detected in those twenty-two months leaves me to believe that they were unable to.

D’Anna is now pregnant with her second child fathered by Captain Matthew Lensherr, former Silver Spar squadron leader aboard GALACTICA. Captain Lensherr’s current assignment is at the EDF Military Academy. These hybrid children will certainly face scrutiny throughout their lives, and their future will most definitely be of great interest to humanity.

Major Nina Nintius slowly opened her eyes, her auburn hair slightly obstructing her view of the clock. 0620 hours and she was still incredibly tired, she instantly regretted the late night in the officer’s lounge playing pyramid. Her eyes still bloodshot, the smell of cigars clinging to her like a second skin. Propping herself up on her elbow she glanced over at the sleeping man in her bed. Falcon was snoring up a storm; she suppressed a chuckle and ran her long fingernails gently across his chest. Captain Tony Bastain’s eyelids snapped open as he bolted upright, his hand like an iron vise around his new wife’s wrist.

“Lighten up on the grip stud; I need that hand to fly a raptor.” Said Nina as she peeled his hand off her wrists, if she was in pain she showed no evidence of it. The muscular squadron leader of Hunter Seeker squadron released his grip and apologized. He was not yet accustomed to sharing a bed.

“That was some night; I think I drank way too much.” Said Falcon holding his head in his hands. Nina slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of uniform pants.

“Yeah stud you did, but the thankfully I maintained a clear and sober head. I was able to clean out Hotdog and Photon of at least a week’s pay.” Replied Nina as she gathered her toiletry bag to take the short walk to the pilot’s locker room for a shower.

“What’s your rush, Nina?” asked Falcon now wiping the sleep from his bloodshot eyes.

“I need to get my ship prepped for a hop over to the Polaris. The old man wants to meet with her commander.” Replied Nina. Falcon’s brow furrowed as if deep in thought.

“I’m surprised that they put an Earth officer in command of the Polaris over a Colonial officer.”

Annoyed at one more interruption of her journey out the door Nina spun around and answered. “There are no Colonial officers love, we’re all one big tribe again…we’re all ‘Earthers’ now. Besides, the executive officer was captain of the Rising Star…he does have space experience you know.”

“I guess I was expecting someone from GALACTICA to get command.” Nina threw open the hatch and stepped outside, a hot shower was what she needed. Taking the short walk to the pilot’s latrine, she was surprised to find Lt. Costanza within stripping down to enter one of the shower stalls. Latrines aboard Battlestars were much different from latrines aboard the former Navy vessels of Earth militaries. The sea-faring vessels had separate showering facilities whereas the Colonial military’s were gender neutral. Male and female showering in the same room never seemed odd until new crew members from earth were assigned aboard.

“Good morning Hotdog.” Said Nina cheerfully as she dropped her bag on the steel bench. Hotdog stood fully naked before her, and was obviously quite hung over from the night before.

“Ah the pyramid demoness has arrived, nice game last night…well played.” He grunted as he reached for a bottle of shampoo. Nina kicked off her pants and underwear and stepped into the stall next to him.

“You know Hotdog a little less Sam Adams at the start of the game may keep your mind focused.” Laughed Nina as she lathered up her well taut abdomen.

“Frak that Earth beer, not that I don’t appreciate the near-infinite selections, but they sure are a far cry from the beer brewed on Libris!” sniffed Costanza expecting some new pilots today, why does it seem that Silver Spar squadron is always taking in the nuggets? This would not happen under Lensherr…ole Matt would have itched up a storm. Perhaps a word with the CAG is in order.”

“I’m sure Starbuck is aware of the assignments for the nuggets. Have you ever considered that they’re getting sent your way for a reason?”

“Yeah…I believe that Starbuck is still Fraking pissed off that I cleaned her out of a month’s pay not too long ago. This is her revenge! No matter though, Silver Spar is the best damned viper squadron in the fleet, I’ll turn these nuggets into Gods-damned fanatics!”

“I know of a couple of other squadron leaders that might disagree with you.” Replied Nintius playfully.

“Frak them too, they can smoke my joystick!” laughed Hotdog as he finished his shower. Nintius rolled her eyes and finished getting ready. She had to get her ship prepped for launch, and the old man did not tolerate tardiness from any of his pilots, especially Nina Nintius.

Twenty-two months earlier…
The thick opaque fluid bubbles and churns like a maelstrom. The body forces itself to the surface, gasping for air, a look of confusion upon his face. The rebirthing facility holds many tanks, only one is active, and only one is surrounded. He coughs, expelling the liquid from his throat and mouth. The words are barely audible; “Beware…virus.”

Starboard flight pod; Battlestar GALACTICA Present day.
“Shooter this is Raptor 1, requesting permission to launch.”

“Raptor 1 this is Shooter, you are cleared for launch.” Major Nina Nintius-Bastain gently maneuvered her raptor off the deck and made her way down the length of the flight pod into space. Clearing the Battlestar, she set off on her preprogrammed course heading. Two vipers coming alongside immediately caught her attention.

“Betty this is Falcon, Blackjack and I will be your escort to the Polaris.” Falcon, a native of Aquaria, he lost his first wife and two daughters in the Cylon attack. His hatred for anything Cylon was absolute, and great effort was made to avoid Captain Matt Lensherr’s Cylon wife, the beautiful D’Anna Biers. While he’s accepted the fact that she has broken her allegiance to her race and if not for her they would most likely not have reached Earth, or defeated Leoben those two short years ago, still he recoils in her presence. Time does not necessarily heal all wounds.

“Falcon this is Betty…message received, glad to have you along. GALACTICA actual has directed me to inform you that he requests your presence aboard Polaris as well.”

“Roger that, Raptor 1.” Replied Falcon.

Nina glanced over to Adama who was sitting in the co pilot’s seat. He was in his dress grays and looked immaculate in his ribbons and medals. She had come to think of him as a father figure, the two have been through so much since the destruction of the Colonies, and the bond they cemented in that Basestar control room would never be broken. Bonds made in combat were to be expected, bonds formed in close-quarters combat could not be shattered. Nintius was highly proficient in several forms of combat, and the fighting technique displayed by the old man that day impressed her greatly. What she would have given to be assigned to this man in his prime.

After two hours, the journey was soon ending. The three ships from GALACTICA were entering Dradis range of Earth Defense Command’s newest Battlestar…the Polaris. At 6,200 feet long, Polaris was the biggest combat vessel ever built by the Colonies or Earth. It was larger than GALACTICA, and was just as heavily armed. Her primary purpose was to project a lethal viper force, her compliment of Mark II and Mark VII exceeding the combined might of three full-sized Battlestars. A Dradis warning sounded, Nina quickly glanced at her screens.

“Admiral I have four Dradis contacts broadcasting EDF transponders.” Informed Nintius.

“That would be the CAP for the Polaris.” Replied Adama. Four black Mark II vipers with white trim slowly entered their flight path. Nintius switched on her transmitter.

“This is GALACTICA Raptor 1 requesting approach to the Battlestar Polaris.”

“GALACTICA Raptor 1-Polaris, you are cleared for approach on upper port landing bay. On behalf of Polaris Actual we would like to welcome you aboard.” The four vipers from Polaris formed up with the three ships from GALACTICA forming a diamond around them leading them in. Adama had seen the designs many times, in fact, he had made significant recommendations to the plans, but seeing the finished product in person from the large windscreen of a raptor made his heart race.

“My Gods what a menacing looking instrument of death!” he muttered in admiration. Upon final approach, the four vipers from Polaris broke off and resumed their patrol. Nintius set the 50-ton raptor down light as a feather, the two viper escorts from Blue squadron touched down immediately after her.

After being lowered into the hanger bay, the raptor was taxied to a parking space where Polaris’ hanger crew attached refueling hoses to the tank fill. Similar action was taken with the two vipers as the pilots climbed down from their cockpits. An honor guard was stationed to the side of the hanger, and Commander Marcus Vasquez formerly a Lieutenant Colonel in Spain’s Army stood between the EDF flag and the Polaris insignia mounted on a
light blue flag. Admiral Adama stepped forward and saluted as a high-pitched whistle sounded indicating the arrival of a flag officer.

“Commander Vasquez, permission to come aboard.” said Adama.

“Permission granted Admiral, and welcome aboard!” replied Vasquez. Adama extended his hand, and a firm handshake was exchanged between the two men.

“If the interior is as impressive and intimidating as the exterior than I predict that I will be in for a pleasant inspection Commander.” Said the Admiral now turning towards his three junior officers at his side. “Commander may I introduce my senior raptor pilot, Major Nina Nintius-Bastain, Major Tony Bastain and Lieutenant Darius Malik of Blue squadron.

“Welcome aboard the Polaris, please follow me and I’ll give you a tour of Earth’s newest Battlestar. Of course it will be an abbreviated tour, unless of course you want to spend two days touring every deck and compartment.” Said Vasquez. Walking across the immaculate hanger bay, Falcon stared in approval at the neat row of jet-black colored vipers with white striping. There were no battle scarring or chipped paint; these vipers were fresh from the assembly line on Earth. The majority of pilots aboard Polaris were new, recently graduated from the academy led by former Silver Spar squadron leader Matthew Lensherr who now was assigned to Earth to run the viper school at Groom Lake in Nevada. His home was GALACTICA, but he wondered what life would be like assigned to the Polaris. The ship was gargantuan in size, four flight pods as opposed to two. She was heavily armed, and her fighter wings provided devastating aerial firepower. Roughly 2,000 feet longer than GALACTICA, she was the largest warship ever built by the Colonies or Earth.

Captain Matthew Lensherr sat at his desk, a stack of folders sat neatly piled to his left, an open personnel folder sat open before him. It was a proficiency report for one flight cadet Kelly Rasputin, a 24-year-old recruit who showed intense promise. Three quarters of the way through her training and she remained his number one student. She was extremely intelligent, comfortable in the cockpit of the training viper, and was very thorough and methodical in most aspects of her training. He was instantly reminded of himself as a cadet at the Colonial Military Academy a little over dozen years earlier. He too was top of his class, and extremely methodical as well, almost too methodical was the concern of some flight instructors. She was demonstrating similar traits that he possessed, and he wondered if he should council her about it or letting it play through, after all…he rose through the ranks and became one of the youngest squadron leaders in Colonial history. Of course had most of the senior pilots not been killed off in the months following the Cylon’s sneak attack on the Colonies he might not have risen as fast as he did. Closing her folder, he leaned back, closed his eyes and remembered.

“Viper 271 to Triton requesting emergency approach!”

“Triton to Viper 271, you are cleared for emergency approach to the starboard landing bay, call the ball!”

“Viper 271 has the ball, speed 2.5 bingo fuel.” Gripping the controls, Lieutenant junior grade Matthew Lensherr fought to maintain control of his Mark VI viper. System failure warnings sounded loudly, but he was able to block their sound out while acknowledging the severity of the situation. Matt Lensherr had only been assigned to the Battlestar Triton for three months, he graduated top of his class and as a reward was given his choice of assignment. He immediately opted for Battlestar Group 39, a group well reputed for its exceptional viper pilots and command staff. The Triton was under command of Commander James Jonasson.

Twenty minutes earlier.
Starting on a training exercise amongst Green squadron landed him in the predicament he currently finds himself. A missile run on remote drones was supposed to be routine, but the guidance system on an air-to-air missiles locked onto his viper instead of the remote drone. Kicking in the battle thrusters Matthew Lensherr attempted to outrace the incoming missiles, his viper was not loaded with counter measures known as swallows. He knew this to be futile; the missiles would overtake him in mere moments. Dradis sweep indicated an asteroid field close by and Lensherr steered his viper toward it at full speed.

“Krypter, krypter, krypter...viper 271 declaring an emergency. I have a training missile locked onto my ship, attempting to evade.”

Green squadron’s leader reacted immediately. “Green leader to all wings, terminate training exercise immediately…all ships return to Triton. “Green leader to Hephaestus…you have to be prepared to eject, without swallows to deploy you have little chances of outrunning the missile, copy.”

“Green leader, Hephaestus…message received. I have an asteroid field on my Dradis and will attempt to lose it in there.” The missile was gaining, and the asteroid field was just ahead now. Lensherr pushed hard against the thruster pedal, he felt like he would push it through the firewall.

On board Triton, the Junior Officer Of the Deck summoned the executive officer and commanding officer to the CIC.

“Sitrep, Lieutenant!” barked the XO.

“Viper 271 has declared an emergency sir, during the training exercise a missile locked onto his viper instead of the decoy drone.” Reported the JOOD.

“Viper 271 isn’t that the new pilot…Lensherr?” asked the XO.

“Affirmative XO, the squadron leader terminated the exercise and ordered all vipers to land. He’s attempting to intercept the missile, but he’s too far off and Hephaestus is attempting to lose the missile in the asteroid field.”

“Are you Fraking kidding me? That rookie pilot is going to try and navigate an asteroid field…order him to punch out!”

“Hephaestus, Triton…you are instructed to eject immediately! Repeat…eject immediately!”

“Triton, Hephaestus…I’m already within the field, unable to safely eject.” Replied Hephaestus coolly. The missile was almost on him, and Lensherr banked his fighter hard to stay close to the much larger asteroids hoping to have the missile strike it. This was risky flying for extremely seasoned veterans, never mind a new pilot. Oddly though, Lensherr did not feel panicked, he knew what he had to do and knew what the outcome would be if he failed.

Commander Jonasson was now entering the CIC. “Commander has the deck…what’s happening XO?”

“Rookie pilot declared an emergency, the missile in their training exercise locked onto his viper instead of the decoy drone. Currently he’s attempting to lose it in the asteroid field.”

“Does the squadron leader have a visual on him?” asked the XO to the JOOD.

“Patch me in with the squadron leader.” ordered Jonasson.

“Green Leader, Triton…stand by for Triton Actual.”

“Go ahead Actual!”

‘What’s going on out there, Captain?”

“Air-to-air missile locked onto one of my pilots during the exercise, sir. He’s trying to lose it in the asteroid field…holy Frak this kid is going through the asteroid belt at his top speed, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Lensherr split his concentration between the asteroids before him and the missile behind him. Dradis was next to useless due to the debris field. He kept glancing back hoping to get mark one eyeballs on the incoming missile. Matthew Lensherr was flying flawlessly in an environment that was lethal at the speeds he was traveling. He remained absolutely calm, yet alert; a trait that has served him well throughout his life. The newer Mark VII’s would soon replace the Mark VI viper he was flying; it had been rumored to be the pinnacle of colonial achievement in avionics. He hoped he would be around to fly one. Two large asteroids at ten o’clock high, it was perfect. Pulling back hard and to the left he aimed his viper for the dead center of both, he would only have one shot at this, the missile was about to crawl up his engines. He roared through the massive rocks, the bottom of his wings scraping against them loudly. The missile impacted against side of the smaller asteroid, the explosion resulted in a tremendous amount of turbulence, a 12 inch piece of jagged metal shrapnel tore a large hole in the fuel tank, it was nothing short of miraculous that an explosion didn’t result from it.

The blinding flash temporarily blinded the squadron leader as he desperately attempted to scan the debris field. Dradis was useless, and he could not pick up a Colonial transponder.
“Hephaestus, green leader…come in!”

“Green leader, Hephaestus…I’m okay, my viper is still intact. I’m reading a fuel leak, possibly a result of the detonation; I’m clearing the asteroid field now.”

“I’m on your wing rookie, let’s get back to Triton.”

Presently…
“Viper 271 has the ball, speed 2.5 bingo fuel. Be advised I have numerous system failures across the board.” Reported Lensherr, no trace of panic in his voice. Something that did not go unnoticed by Jonasson.

“Captain Lensherr…you wanted to see me sir?” came a distant voice. Lensherr’s eyes snapped open, his trip down memory lane interrupted. He sat up straight.

“Ah, Cadet Rasputin, come in.” The young woman stepped into the room and stood at attention before Lensherr. “Stand at ease Cadet!” Kelly Rasputin went to parade rest and looked straight ahead. Lensherr flipped through the sheets of paper slowly in the folder that was marker with her name. “Cadet Rasputin…I’ve been going through your records and I have to say that I am very impressed by your performance in the classroom, flight simulators, and actual flight time in the training viper. You stand at the top of your class…for the moment.”

“Sir?”

Lensherr stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning against the corner he folded his arms across his chest and leveled his gaze at her. “Kelly, you have an incredible knack for the stick, one of the few nuggets I’ve come across that immediately displayed promise. That being said,” he paused to sigh. “There are times when textbook flying and a cold, methodical approach to combat will get you killed. You cannot outthink, or ‘out cold’ a Cylon in combat. There will be times when you have to think outside the box, fly by the seat of your pants, and basically just say Frak it and throw caution to the wind to survive.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Lensherr nodded and she looked directly into his eyes. “Sir, this isn’t at all what I expected to hear from the academy’s top gun, your reputation for precision flying is well known.”

“Precision flying is one thing Cadet, trying to keep your aircraft intact and yourself alive in combat is something entirely different. I can think of a dozen pilots better than I, though even that number may be a tad high.” He laughed. Her blank stare was evidence enough that the joke went over her head. “Kelly…I’m a damned good combat pilot, I have well over 200 raider kills since the attack on the Colonies. I have survived this long not just because I fly in a cold and methodical manner, but because I can switch that ‘precision’ off when confronted by circumstances that manner of flying cannot counter. Adapt…improvise…conquer.” Each word stressed for effect. “Don’t be afraid to let loose, you may be surprised at the outcome.”

“Aye sir.”

“Very good Cadet, you’re dismissed!” said Lensherr sitting back down at his desk. Rasputin came to attention and spun on her heel exiting the room.

“Molding another future star pilot, mighty Hephaestus?” cooed a familiar voice. Lensherr looked up to see his wife stroll through the door. She was radiant in almost all circumstances; her pregnancy only seemed to intensify it, thought Lensherr.

“If I can keep just one pilot from getting blown out of the stars I’ll be happy.” He replied. Standing up he walked over to her and embraced her, their lips met for a prolonged kiss. “Where is James?”

“He’s with the sitter; I thought we would have a nice lunch to ourselves today.” The two drove off to a nearby restaurant on base. One of the few decent places to eat on the installation. Decades earlier, it was determined that there had to be a decent place to eat outside the chow hall for the inhabitants of this super-secret Air Force installation. Within 15 minutes, the two were arriving at Black Hole, a name found quite appropriate for a restaurant on a military installation believed to be ground zero for all things extra terrestrial. After a few minutes going over the menus, Lensherr ordered a fillet mignon with roasted potatoes, and D’Anna ordered a shrimp scampi over angel hair pasta. Matthew Lensherr loved Earth cuisine, it was far superior to most of the dishes on Aerelon, and was about even with most Caprican dishes.

“This group going through the academy is pretty impressive, D’Anna. For the first time in a long time I feel that we may actually be making real progress to rebuilding the might of the Colonies.”

“They weren’t so mighty in the face of subterfuge, treason and sabotage.” Countered D’Anna between bites.

“We will never be taken that way again!” snapped Lensherr. The intensity surprised D’Anna.

“Something on your mind, Matthew?” asked D’Anna.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so defensive.”

“You miss being out there, don’t you?” said D’Anna gesturing upward with her beautiful green eyes. She knew he loved the challenge of molding new viper pilots, but she also knew his heart was in the seat of a viper and not a classroom.

“And if I was?”

“Matthew. You know I do not have the same ‘hang-ups’ as human females regarding their spouses. I love having you home; having you close by and being a family, but I also realize that your heart is among the stars. I see you spending hours looking up at the stars out on the patio when James goes to bed.”

“The old man thought my talents were better suited to training the next generation of pilots.”

“William Adama is a good man Matthew, but he does not hold the keys to your future.” The rest of the meal was conducted in idle family chatter, but Lensherr knew his wife was right. He could not remain planet-bound forever.