Earth 2010 - The Colonies of Kobol Reunited Chapters 19

CHAPTER 19

Major Tony Bastain was highly impressed with the Polaris. The ship, for all of its gargantuan size seemed to glide smoothly through the vastness of space. Compared to the noisy atmosphere of the GALACTICA the Polaris ran deathly silent. A Battlestar, by design was a cross between aircraft carrier and battleship, the Polaris was almost an entirely different concept. Four flight pods, two topside and two beneath the ship housed over four hundred fighters. It was assigned to Commander Tigh’s command, and while there were not enough Battlestars to form groups, smaller warships were constructed to supply limited firepower to their assigned Battlestars. Much like destroyers of Earth’s past that were assigned to carrier groups. In two years, Admiral Adama went from commanding only the GALACTICA, to having three Battlestars and close to a dozen smaller warships under his overall command. It filled him with pride and purpose to see the fleet rebuilt. Of course, it was very different from the Colonial Fleet, but this was a different fleet, built under his command and incorporated with many of his ideas. This was something that most likely would never have happened under the Colonial military. He was the senior military officer on the planet, and the officer with the most combat experience. His voice carried serious weight, his every spoken word considered a concrete command.

“Not thinking of requesting a transfer are you Tony?” asked Nina coming alongside of him.

“What…give up the opportunity to serve on a fifty year old noisy, smelly rusting warship as opposed to a fresh off the assembly line state-of-the-art Battlestar? Why the Frak would I want to do that?” laughed Bastain.

“I have to admit that it would be tempting.” Replied Nina running her hand down the wall of the long hallway they were in, inspecting for dust and impressed not to find any.

“GALACTICA is my home Nina, you don’t think I could be that easily swayed by the glitz of a new Battlestar, do you?”

“You Fraking liar, I know the temptation all too well.” Laughed Nina. “GALACTICA is indeed old, smelly and obsolete compared to Terra-1 or the Excalibur, but which ship would you trust to protect you against a Cylon assault.”

Falcon just smiled, he knew she was right. The three new Battlestars had all the bells and whistles, but GALACTICA had the war wounds. In fifty years of service, she had taken a beating, and still came back for more. The ship had heart, and he doubted he would ever willingly transfer off her.

“What do you think of the new escort ships?” asked Nina.

“Well they couldn’t go toe to toe with a Basestar, but they do provide for an agile platform of firepower.”

“The old man is in his glory, he finally has ‘his fleet.’ After being reassigned to GALACTICA after the Valkyrie debacle, he never figured on commanding a Battlestar group. Now he is instrumental in constructing his own fleet. I doubt I could ever transfer from his command.”

The two carried on with their inspection of Polaris. Elsewhere in space, another veteran of GALACTICA sat in the cockpit of his viper gliding through space. Lt. Brandon Costanza; call sign Hotdog was piloting his Mk II viper towards Pluto, the planet that was home to Earth’s newest outpost. He was protecting a convoy from Earth enroute to the outpost. The three-ship convoy was laden with perishables for the construction crews and building materials, Hotdog had relieved the viper squadron from Earth, and after a quick refuel aboard GALACTICA they had returned to their base. His detail consisted of Aslan and Prometheus.

“Hotdog, Prometheus…are we really needed to baby-sit these guys? I mean we haven’t seen a Cylon for almost two years. After the virus we unleashed on their ass I doubt they’d dare show their faces again.” Inquired Lieutenant Dennis “sky” Walker over the comline.

“You know better than that Prometheus…the toasters are unpredictable. Never assume that they are down and out. Being toasters, it means they have the capacity to adapt.”

“I’m banking that these frakers don’t have the balls to come back at us.” Added Aslan.

“Well let’s hope you’re right, but in the meantime we have to get these guys safely to Pluto. This outpost is important to EDC.” The outpost under construction on Pluto was a major undertaking. Earth Defense Command had it built as an outer listening post and military hub. There would four squadrons of Mk VII vipers assigned to it as well as a Marine detachment of roughly 100 men and women. Sensitive listening and observation equipment would be utilized and a refueling port was scheduled to be completed in eight months from now. This outpost was at the behest of Admiral Adama, and with many things military, his voice carried a weight of authority. A civilian scientific research station would also be housed on this outpost with research vessels of medium range assigned to it.

With Matthew Lensherr’s assignment to Earth, Brandon Costanza was promoted to Silver Spar’s squadron leader. Like Hephaestus, Hotdog was a firm believer in constant drilling. He flew as many training missions as fuel allowed. His only headache was Aslan, the very rambunctious, hotshot pilot whose recent issues was ‘getting his hands on a new MK VII viper.’ GALACTICA’s air wing consisted of all brand new Mk II’s, and the Mk VII’s just recently were going into production. The belief was to train new pilots on the user-friendly Mk II at first. There were very few Mk VII’s in service, and only the most able viper pilot piloted those that remained. When Earth started to replace GALACTICA’s aging air wing they utilized the specs for the Mk II but incorporated most of the Mk VII’s systems with the exception of those that they deemed too complex for rookie pilots, especially those that never flew in space. However, there was a great deal of requests for the newer viper amongst the fleet’s seasoned pilots, most of them being former Colonial pilots. Admiral Adama made it clear to his CAG that he would not be replacing perfectly good vipers needlessly. Colonel Tigh stressed the same to his own CAG as well.

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Aboard GALACTICA, Major Kara Thrace call sign Starbuck sat in the officer’s lounge drinking a beer. She was off duty until tomorrow evening and planned to relax. The pilot she was romantically involved with joined her, Captain Jack Hoffman call sign Hannibal. They were 2 hours into a game of pyramid, and a thick haze of smoke filled the lounge. Also at the table were Silver Spar’s raptor pilot Lt. Jenna St. Lynn call sign Kraken and executive officer Colonel Lee Adama; call sign Apollo.

“Bet is to you Colonel.” Said Starbuck as she took a hard pull of her mug. Lee Adama was infamously mean when losing at cards. The smile plastered across his face was evidence that the cards were for once going his way.

With a barely detectible slur to his speech, Apollo spoke up. “I see your fifty and raise you another twenty, Kara.” Kraken threw down her hand in disgust.

“I’m out!” she muttered. Hannibal did the same, but with less annoyance. The remaining players threw in the additional twenty and Starbuck demanded that Apollo show his hand. Slowly spreading his cards out before him, he displayed a full pyramid. A surprised Starbuck let out a grunt and threw her cards into the center of the table.

“Fraking lucky bastard!” snarled Starbuck. “I guess the Gods watch out for the drunks and the mentally deficient.”

“You are indeed a surly Fraker my dear Starbuck,” laughed Apollo. “Perhaps I need to have the chow hall start spiking your dinner with some sedatives.” Kara just displayed a derogatory hand gesture in Adama’s direction.

“Well I guess that just about does it for me, I’m on duty early tomorrow and need to get some rack time. Good evening to you all.” Said Apollo as he wobbled from the table and out of the lounge. Kara Thrace turned towards Hannibal and planted a long kiss on his lips.

“Well Captain, care to join me in the port side observation dome?” purred the CAG.

“Lead and I will follow, Major.” He replied. The two bailed out of the lounge and Kraken found herself alone at the table, with far less money in her pocket than she walked in with. She kicked her feet up onto the table when the hatch opened. In strolled Lancelot and Photon, two of GALACTICA’s partners in perversion. She rolled her eyes wondering how much worse can her night be for her. Lancelot plunked down in the seat beside her.

“Ah…a fellow Spar in need of company, it would be my pleasure to join you.” Said Lancelot in his deep voice. His eyes were already undressing her.

“Tev, be under no illusion that I won’t kick you square in the fraking balls if you keep leering at me like that!” hissed the Raptor beauty.

“Come on now Jenna…we can be friends here. For Gods sake we’re fraking squadron mates.” Replied Lancelot.

“We are squadron mates, and for some reason it doesn’t dawn on you that if for no other reason alone I deserve some fraking respect from you. Get it through your head…you are not getting laid by me now, or ever. Now go away.” At that point, Tev just smiled and placed his hand on her knee, but before he could utter a word, Jenna St. Lynn leaped up and landed a right cross to his jaw. “I fraking warned you…”

By this time, Helo was entering the lounge and found himself catching the reeling body of one Lt. Tev Torbeck of Silver Spar squadron. Torbeck’s smile turned into a murderous scowl and he wrenched himself free and made for the offending Raptor pilot. Steve Parsec was quick to get between them.

“Let him through Photon, I’ve got more where that came from.” Challenged Kraken.

“Little girl it’s time you learned some respect yourself.” Snapped Torbeck who was hell bent on getting his hands on her. Helo was quick to place his hands upon Torbeck’s shoulders and pulled him back.

“Stand down Lieutenant!” ordered Helo. “Both of you stand down!” he repeated, now looking at Kraken. “What is wrong with you two? By the lords of Kobol, I’ve never seen two people who needed to get laid any more than you two. Get some fraking shore leave and grab a room together somewhere eh?” Jenna St. Lynn shot a cold gaze towards Helo who stood unfazed.

“I’d sooner sleep with a pack of daggits!” she spat and stormed out of the room.

Helo righted and overturned chair and sat down with a fresh beer. Lancelot and Photon sat down next to him. “You know Lancelot, one of these days she’s going to have enough and either bring you up on formal charges or kick the absolute crap out of you.” Lancelot chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Before you get too cocky son, I’m going to be the first to tell you that if you mix it up with her, you’ll win, but I guarantee you’ll know you’ve been in a fight. She’s hell on wheels as I know you know from personal experience, give it a rest before she goes the official route and you end up cooling your heels in GALACTICA’s brig for a month or worse. Understand?”

“She’s an uppity little thing that needs to be brought back to reality!” snorted Lancelot.

“That may or may not be the case Lieutenant, but as of this moment you will back off. She’s a damned good Raptor pilot, and you and the rest of the pilots depend on her. Treat her with the respect she deserves, or you might just get me pissed off.” With that, Helo downed his beer and walked back to his quarters to go to sleep.

Lancelot turned to Photon who was lighting up a cigar. “Yo Steve, do you remember when Kraken was assigned to Silver Spar?”

“How can I forget? That had to be one of the hairiest dogfights I ever saw.” Replied Steve Parsec exhaling a mouth full of smoke. Three years earlier, almost eight months prior to Earth’s discovery the GALACTICA roamed through space with her civilian fleet. The day started the same as every other day…quiet. Lieutenant Felix Gaeta was about ready to start some routine maintenance on his Dradis board when two signals appeared.
“Colonel Tigh, I have two contacts on Dradis, distance 600 km.”

“That’s awfully close for my liking, set condition one throughout the ship and launch the alert vipers, notify the old man and have the fleet prepare to jump to emergency coordinates.” Ordered Tigh. Silver Spar squadron was on duty and most pilots got to their vipers within a minute. Twenty vipers under the command of Captain Matthew Lensherr took to the air and Raptor 3 was launched for airborne warning & control supporting Viper operations. At the controls sat Lieutenant junior grade Jenna St. Lynn, call sign Kraken. This was her first combat mission.

Colonel Tigh kept his eyes glued to the Dradis screen. “Lieutenant Gaeta has the contacts advanced on our location?”

“Negative sir, they are holding at 600 km. Hephaestus should have visual contact in four minutes.”

“Raptor 3-Hephaestus…are you picking up anything other than the two contacts?” Kraken glanced over to her ECO who shook his head in the negative.

“Hephaestus this is Kraken, we’re just picking up those two bogies, you should have a visual on them in 90 seconds.”

Lensherr brought his viper on an intercept course for the two unidentified contacts. His assistant squadron leader was tight on his port wing. Lt. Mark Sarnex, call sign Nightstalker was Lensherr’s closest friend and trusted confidant. They had faced the Cylons countless times in their two-year retreat from the Colonies, and Lensherr could not imagine entering combat without Nightstalker.

“Keep a sharp eye Nightstalker, something is wrong here, I’m trying to identify but getting low-level interference. Warbook is useless at this point.” Said Lensherr over the comline.

“I’ve got you covered skipper, all wings are in tight formation and paired with their wingmen. If we can just get the rookie to identify these guys we’d be all set.” Said Sarnex referring to Kraken none-to-subtly. Lensherr strained his eyes to try to pick up the spacecraft that should now be in range.

“What the Frak…Cylon raiders, two of them.” Said Lensherr to nobody in particular. “All wings, Hephaestus…two enemy fighters at eleven o’clock high, weapons free. Raptor 3 pull back to a safe distance and let us handle the raiders, inform the GALACTICA of the situation.” Ordered Lensherr as he toggled his weapons selector safety switch off.

“Only two skipper, must be a recon.”

“Well lets get them before they jump out of here and give away our location…Kraken I want you to jam all known Cylon frequencies immediately!” Kraken turned her head to relay the message to her ECO when she saw his startled look.

“Multiple Dradis contacts…It’s off the Fraking scale Lieutenant, I have at least 80 contacts all around us, unmistakably Cylon attack craft.”

“Raptor 3 to Hephaestus, Cylon attack craft jumping into our immediate perimeter, I have at least 80 contacts.”

The blinding flashes and explosions buffeting his viper was a telltale sign that Silver Spar was in deep trouble, heavily outnumbered and caught flatfooted. “Kraken jump back to GALACTICA immediately and call for reinforcements…all wings engage enemy fighters and for Frak’s sake stick close to your wingman!” yelled Lensherr over the coms.

“Not my kind of odds boss!” quipped Lt. Steve Parsec, call sign Photon as he banked Torpedo in perfect unison with his wingman Lancelot’s viper. Pulling the trigger, he stitched a raider topside causing it to explode.

“It’s never your kind of odds!” retorted Lt. Brandon Costanza, call sign Hotdog.

“Knock off the chatter ladies and stay sharp.” Said Hephaestus tersely.

Kraken had pulled back hard and to the right on her controls as the ECO spooled up the FTL drive to jump out of there. An explosion rocked the Raptor, and Jenna St. Lynn struck her head on the reinforcement band over the windscreen. A small gash opened up, and she could feel the warm trickle of blood slowly dribble down from her hairline.

“Damage report!”

“FTL’s are fluctuating, do not jump…do not jump!” yelled her ECO.

“Frak!” she screamed. “Hephaestus, Raptor 3…my FTL’s are offline, I can’t jump away.”

“Get the hell out of here Jenna, you aren’t armed and there aren’t enough of us here to adequately protect you.” Ordered Lensherr. He felt badly, he knew she was a rookie on her first mission, but his squadron was getting the hell kicked out of them, she would have to use all of her training, skill and luck to survive.

Aboard the GALACTICA, long-range Dradis scan revealed the extra raiders jumping their single viper squadron. Admiral Adama was now entering the CIC and Tigh began his Sitrep. “Silver Spar squadron was launched to investigate a Dradis contact, possibly Cylon. They intercepted two raiders and almost immediately were jumped by at least four more squadrons. They’re in the mother of all dog fights right now; I was just going to scramble remaining squadrons.” Said Tigh.

“Make it happen XO.” Replied Adama stepping up to the Dradis console. “Admiral has the deck! Lieutenant Gaeta has the fleet captains signaled ready to jump to emergency coordinates?”

“Yes sir, all ships signal green and are standing by to jump.”

“Order them to jump to emergency coordinates by sequence, the Rising Star and Stryker are armed and will maintain fleet protection until we arrive on station.” Ordered Adama. Blue squadron cleared the GALACTICA and was traveling on full turbos to assist the heavily outnumbered Silver Spar squadron.

Photon had taken out six raiders in under two minutes; he and his wingman Lancelot were feeling particularly aggressive and fought with an intensity reserved for those that understood that one slip up against these kinds of odds meant certain death. Lt. Steve Parsec stole glances around his cockpit window at the battle going on around him. The deadly cannon fire seemed to form a mesmerizing latticework of deadly light. He was jolted back to reality when a viper exploded off his port side.

“We just lost Slaughterhouse.” Yelled Lancelot over the comline. “Where the Frak is Blue squadron, we’re getting our asses handed to us out here?” Hearing the exchange over the comline, Kraken glanced at her ECO who was tracking the incoming relief vipers. Raptor 3 had managed to back away from the fight unnoticed.

The Electronic Counter Measures Officer verified that the Calvary was two minutes out. “Hephaestus, Kraken…you have relief vipers 2 minutes out.”

“This thing is going to be over in two minutes…I’m almost out of ammunition and running low on fuel.” Complained Lancelot.

“Knock it off already; keep your head in the game.” Snapped Lensherr. “Kraken-Hephaestus…clear me through to Apollo.” The connection was made and Lensherr spoke quickly. “Apollo- Hephaestus…most of my squadron is running low on fuel and almost empty on ammo.”

“Hephaestus- Apollo…get back to GALACTICA, we’ll cover your six. By the time you get back the fleet will have jumped to safety.”

“Roger that Apollo. Silver Spar squadron this is Hephaestus, return to GALACTICA immediately.” Silver Spar squadron broke free of the fight and made their way back to GALACTICA bruised and battered. Three pilots and their vipers would not be returning from battle this day.

Lt. Gaeta logged the last civilian ship jumping away and turned to the executive officer. “Colonel all ships have successfully jumped to emergency coordinates, Silver Spar squadron is on final approach.”

“Signal Hephaestus to land his squadron and issue a recall order to Apollo…combat landings authorized.”

“Aye sir!” Gaeta opened up a secure channel to Apollo. “Apollo-GALACTICA…you are instructed to return to GALACTICA immediately, combat landings authorized.”

Blue squadron was inflicting serious punishment on the numerically superior raiders; the Cylons had been in prolonged battle and were in dire need of refueling. The fact that they remained on station was evidence enough to the seasoned Apollo that a Basestar would soon be arriving. Aboard Raptor 1, Nina Nintius and her ECO were directing the battle. She heard the recall order and plotted her return course to GALACTICA. The Battlestar was already in jump prep and would be unable to meet them halfway so the run back would be a hairy one. She was hoping that the raiders would be too low on fuel to give pursuit, but she was not ready to take for granted that the Cylons would not chase and just get collected by the incoming Basestar when they ran out of fuel.

“Apollo to all vipers, return to GALACTICA full burn…combat landings are authorized on both landing bays. Good work, and lets all get back in one piece.” Ordered Apollo. Most of Blue squadron was made up of Mk VII vipers; they were far more agile than the Mk II was and faster. They retreated the field of battle and proceeded full speed back to their Battlestar. Surprisingly, the raiders reversed course and regrouped. A minute later a Cylon Basestar jumped into the quadrant and recovered its air-wing.

Back in the present, Admiral Adama and his entourage had completed their inspection of Polaris and were enroute back to GALACTICA. The old man tended to commandeer Raptor controls whenever the opportunity arouse, being a former Raptor pilot he missed the feeling of flying, and took every opportunity to do so when off the GALACTICA.. Major Nintius was extremely protective of her Raptor and usually completed most repairs herself, or at least monitored closely repairs she was clearly not capable of doing. She sat back and let Adama at the controls of the raptor she had come to feel was her own personal property, not that she had much of a choice. Adama was a great pilot in his day, so she felt little anxiety. This was therapy for him, and she was happy to accommodate him.

“Doing fine sir.” Said Nintius looking to start a conversation.

“Were you expecting anything less, Betty? Hell I was flying these things when you were still in elementary school.” Chided Adama towards the woman he considered like a daughter.

“Not at all, sir. So what do you think of Polaris?”

“An amazing ship would be an understatement. Just the sheer size of it dwarfs anything ever built by the Colonies or Earth. Had the choice been mine, I would have opted for two additional Mercury-class Battlestars. They would have been built sooner, and would not require additional support ships to protect it.” Replied Adama.

“I’m not following you sir.”

“The Polaris is an extremely large warship. Just the number of pilots on board itself is incredible, not to mention the crew needed to run it. An unnecessary risk and expenditure in my opinion. Unfortunately the decision is not entirely my own, there are people I answer to in EDC, and they were hell bent on this ‘super carrier’ for some reason. I’ve stressed the need for more Battlestars, but the reality is that Earth is only one world, we don’t have eleven other planets to get manpower from to create the type of fleet we had back in the Colonies. Eventually the Cylons will return, and we can’t assume they won’t find a way to counter our anti-Cylon virus.”

“Three Battlestars, a super Battlestar/carrier hybrid and a dozen support ships…we’re growing by leaps and bounds sir!”

“Eventually we will reach a limit. The Mercury-class Battlestars are smaller than Colonial-built ones. The GALACTICA is almost sixty years old, and while I am sure she will last much longer, there is only so much you can upgrade. I have no doubts that the Cylon war machine is always upgrading. I estimate that we can fully equip four more Mercury-class Battlestars at best within the next six years.”

“Well we can always get President McGregor to issue a Presidential edict to get procreating post-Fraking-haste in order to build up our population for future military personnel.” Laughed Nintius. Adama slowly turned his head, eyebrow arched.

“The scary thing about you Nina is that I have no idea if you’re serious about that or not.” Laughed Adama. “Either way, Polaris was built and she is indeed a cosmic wrecking machine. I would love to see the look on the face of the first Basestar commander that encounters her. Was it just me, or did it seem that Falcon was in his glory on that ship?”

“Tony is a good man, and one of our best pilots. Naturally, he would want to check out the latest and the greatest. I thought he was going to cream his shorts when he got eyeballs on those jet black Mk VII’s.” William Adama spent his entire adult life in the military and was quite used to coarse language that permeated all branches of the service, still he always found himself surprised at Nina Nintius’ endless cache of crude euphemisms. Catching his gaze, she instinctively smiled and averted her eyes. “Sorry sir!”

“Lords of Kobol you don’t change,” laughed Adama. “Make sure you never do either!” ordered Adama.