Earth 2010 - The Colonies of Kobol Reunited Chapters 21

CHAPTER 21

FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:

It has been my distinct honor and pleasure to be tasked with the creation of Earth’s new defense fleet. The Battlestar Terra-1 under the command of Colonel Saul Tigh has been designated Battlestar Group 2. Under his command is the new super-Battlestar carrier hybrid Polaris, and four Destroyers. Much like the destroyers of Earth’s navies prior to our arrival; these destroyers are designed to be fast and maneuverable yet long-endurance warships intended to escort larger vessels in a fleet or battle group and defend them against smaller, short-range but powerful attackers. Battlestar Group 1 contains the GALACTICA; flagship of Earth’s defense force and the Battlestar Excalibur under the command of Commander Takeda Kenshin, along with four Destroyers as well.

It is my intention to have four Battlestar groups fully staffed by the year 2015. It would be optimum to have three Battlestars per group, but limited numbers of trained military personnel to full staff even a smaller scale Battlestar restricts us. With Earth being the only source of potential recruits (as opposed to the former 12 colonies), it will be decades before the Earth Defense Fleet is anywhere near the strength level of the former Colonial fleet.

With GALACTICA’s air wing filled and the ship supplied, we are about to begin our patrol of the outer rim of our solar system. We will be passing within range of Earth’s newly constructed outpost on Pluto, this outpost will be a critical first line of defense in this sector. There has been no contact from the Cylons, and it is my hope that it will remain so. The EDF is a far from ready in defending humanity in the face of the Cylon armada that our intelligence predicts they have. With luck, we will be given time to augment our defenses.

Lieutenant Anastashia Liathain had just finished stowing her personal items when the hatch opened. Her roommate, Lt. Jenna St. Lynn walked in to find a stranger in her cabin. “Orion I presume?” asked the raptor pilot. Liathain extended her hand.

“Anastashia Liathain…you must be Jenna.” Kraken took hold of her hand and shook vigorously.

“Welcome aboard the bucket Orion.” Replied St. Lynn.

“The Bucket?” asked Orion with an arched eyebrow.

“A derisive nickname in some circles, a term of endearment in others.” She replied.

“Well this is a dream come true for anyone from Earth; just the chance to actually travel out into space, never mind on a massive spaceship, or flying a star fighter is a dream. This is something out of Star Trek for God’s sake.” Laughed Orion.

“Star Trek?”

“A popular science fiction show, it was a series of space exploration, years ahead of it’s time. Before your arrival, space travel like this was the stuff of fantasy.”

“Well I guess Colonial technology isn’t so bad after all. Well it’s good to see another female pilot on board, Gods know there aren’t enough of them to fend off some of the viper jocks who can’t keep it in their pants. Watch out for Lancelot, that pervert won’t wait long to make a move for you.”

“Nothing a good kick in the balls won’t solve.” Replied Liathain with an evil grin.

“Funny you should mention that.” Laughed Kraken. The two knew that they would easily become friends, the two had much in common.

Captain Brandon Costanza nearly ran into the new pilot who was just about ready to knock on the open cabin door. He pulled up fast and gave the pilot before him a once over. “Are you just going to Fraking stand there like a statue or get the hell out of my way, lieutenant?” The man before him did not look a day over 20, and if he had hair one between his legs Hotdog thought he’d be surprised.

“Lieutenant Scott Hopkins reporting for duty, sir!”

“Hopkins? Didn’t you come aboard at the same time as Lt. Liathain? That was over a fraking hour ago, where the hell have you been rookie?” spat Costanza as he closed the gap between the two. He was now about two inches away from the much shorter pilot, who was now fidgeting like a daggit having to go to the bathroom.

“The deck chief needed….” Costanza cut him off.

“Lieutenant Hopkins do you know what the maximum range of an excuse is?”

“No sir.” Stammered the young pilot.

“ZERO! THE MAXIMUM RANGE OF A FRAKING EXCUSE IS ZERO!” Yelled Brandon Costanza. “Now get the hell out of my face, stow your gear and report to the CAG. IF you don’t know where she is than you had best fraking find her post haste!” The rookie lieutenant turned on his heel and bolted down the hallway. Costanza let out a laugh and shook his head. “Starbuck is going to eat that kid alive…what a wonderful start to the day.”

In the CIC, the Admiral was relieving his executive officer. William Adama sat down in his command chair and shot a quick glance over to a nearby ensign who immediately produced a large ceramic mug with a 2010 Army-Navy Football Game insignia
Stenciled on it. The mug, filled with the admiral’s preferred blend of dark-roasted coffee was steaming hot.

Captain Felix Gaeta was receiving a message over the fleet com lines. “Admiral, Excalibur is off our port stern and is signaling ready for departure. Our destroyer escorts have taken their positions.”

“Thank you captain, inform Commander Kenshin that we will set sail for Pluto, patrol speed.” Ordered Adama.

“Aye sir.”

The GALACTICA turned 90 degrees and increased her speed; the smaller Mercury-class Excalibur was positioned farther back on her port side. The destroyers took up positions on the outer perimeters. These destroyers were heavily armed with point defense turrets, and could throw up an incredible amount of anti-aircraft fire. They were no match for a Cylon Basestar, but their task was not to engage the heavily armed warship of the Cylon fleet. They were strictly support for the Battlestar, engaging whatever aircraft got through a viper spearhead. One of these ships easily fit into the landing bay of the GALACTICA, and possessed a compliment of 200 officers and enlisted men.

Earth Defense Fleet Viper Training Academy.

Matthew Lensherr was preflight checking his viper. This would be the final hop for this training class. As was his custom, he always flew the final training mission with his nuggets. Nemesis was running at peak efficiency, while he fully trusted the academy flight line crews to inspect, repair, and maintain all vipers, he always supervised major repairs, or refits. Most of the deck gang respected his attention to detail, and there were seldom feelings of negativity or resentment towards him for his constant double-checking of his personal viper. Nemesis had served him well in battle over the years; she was like a well-worn comfortable shoe that he could never contemplate replacing.

Hephaestus was the call sign stenciled in bright red letters under the canopy on both sides of the fuselage. He earned his viper wings in a Mk VII viper, but when the Cylon attack left all of GALACTICA’s Mk VII vipers destroyed, he was forced to fly the antiquated Mk. II. Over the years; he had grown used to the Mk. II, and even though all of the Mk. II’s constructed on Earth incorporated many of the Mk. VII’s systems, Matthew Lensherr remained loyal to his Mk.II and shunned the offer to receive one of the newest Mk. VII’s.

Content with the preparedness of ship for flight he handed the checklist clipboard to his crew chief kneeling on the ladder next to him. He was guided onto the flight line, and Lensherr cast a last look at the nuggets lowering their canopies preparing for their final flight. The roar of the engines was deafening, this was music to Lensherr’s ears. The control stick vibrated in his grip and the long runway of Groom Lake, otherwise known as Area 51 lay before him. Releasing the brake, he taxied into position.

“Hephaestus-Tower…you are cleared for take off on runway 40 south.”

“Tower-Hephaestus…roger runway 40 south.” The viper careened down the long runway and took to the skies. Hephaestus was in his element. At 20,000 feet, his sleek viper basked in the bright sunlight. Lensherr loved atmospheric flight, and took advantage of every opportunity to fly. The solitude soothed him, and the beauty of magnificent buttes and canyons. The Tonopah Test Range lay beneath him, this was once home to the first F-117 stealth fighter squadron, prior to its being moved to Holloman AFB in New Mexico. Lensherr devoted hours to studying the military jet fighters of Earth’s recent past. Even though their most advanced fighter was painfully inferior to a Colonial Viper, he still had deep admiration for these magnificent fighters.

He banked his viper hard port and the sun was now in his six o’clock position. He visually spotted a squadron of vipers climbing from the surface in near perfect formation; the sight immediately triggered old memories.

Ten years earlier…
Six Colonial vipers from the Battlestar Triton flew in tight formation through the gas cloud. Dradis was useless, and visibility was abominable. Each pilot maintained their speed and position, the marker lights on the dorsal and wingtips the only guide of how close they were to each other. Green squadron had been tracking four distinct Dradis contacts that were suspected of smuggling. War with the Cylons was long over, and the Colonial fleet found itself playing the part of civilian law enforcement in space. The craft they were following consisted of one transport ship that was presumably smuggling illegal drugs and heavy weaponry, and three smaller fighter craft, most likely old Mk I vipers long sold for scrap. They had been refitted with more powerful engines, and 20 mm cannons to replace the two military issued MEC-A6 30mm Thraxon forward-firing kinetic energy weapons that the military removed before selling the ship to civilian agencies flying protection.

“Green team this is Green leader, keep you eyes sharp and maintain your intervals. These pirates have grown far too accustomed to not being pursued through the Hala Nebula by the long arm of the law. It’s past time we showed these scumbags who controls this sector.”

The Hala Nebula lay at the farthest reach of the Colonial star sector. The nearest colony was Tauron, already a thorn in the side to the Admiralty. Law enforcement on Tauron generally ignored the smuggling profession in their sector, rumor was that they were receiving generous “tribute” from the pirates and left them unmolested providing they did not draw too much attention from the Colonial fleets that patrolled. In this instance, a patrol from the Triton encountered these same pirates, and when an order to halt and prepare to be boarded by the military went unheeded things got ugly. One of the ‘protectors’ opened fire on the unsuspecting viper patrol, seriously damaging one of the two vipers. The remaining viper remained on station with his crippled wingman and signaled for assistance from Triton. Green squadron was immediately launched.

“They’re going through the nebula and will exit into the old asteroid field, if we don’t intercept them before that we’re going to have a tough time apprehending them. They know that asteroid field much better than we do, and know every hiding spot.” Said Green Leader.

Hephaestus was surprisingly calm in his cockpit, he felt oddly at ease flying through this soup, as if he knew beyond doubt that he would emerge completely unscathed. It was not too long ago when he was flying for his life through an asteroid field at full speed trying to shake an air-to-sir missile that had locked onto his viper during a training session. He scanned the immediate area around him, identifying each member of his squadron. This was precision flying, he was amongst the best viper pilots in the fleet, and was in his glory. He desperately wanted to apprehend these guys, for too long the pirates in the Tauron system had run unchallenged. The final straw was the looting of a small Colonial weapons reserve station on a moon thought to be a closely guarded secret. It was suspected that the pirates had someone on the inside of the military feeding them sensitive information on weapons caches, and fleet patrol routes. The evidence was clear; they had to have someone on the inside. These lawbreakers always seemed to be forewarned of our presence, and were always one-step ahead in evading capture. In this instance, it was a chance meeting, and now they had to run for it. Triton’s alert fighters were on them faster than they anticipated, and the were on the run for their lives and freedom.

The clouds were thinning, and in the distance, Lensherr could make out the telltale afterburners of a tri-engine star fighter. He strained to get a count, only two were seen.
“Green Leader-Green five…Tally two bandits on my ten o’clock position. Distance 2.7.”

“Hephaestus-Green Leader…wilco on the bandits, let’s go get em!” The vipers were almost completely free of the nebula and were now streaking through empty space. They were two minutes away from the asteroid field, and one minute away from the fleeing pirates. “I’m picking up the other two on Dradis now; they’ve got a good head start on us.”

Without warning and to the surprise of everyone the two rear pirate vipers flipped end over end and were now heading for the Colonial vipers in pursuit. They were obviously attempting to buy time for their transport ship and cargo to reach the protection of the asteroid field. The Mk I vipers were archaic, and absolutely no match for the far-superior Mk. VI that were almost on top of them. Unknown to the pilots of Green squadron, these Mk I’s had been fitted with the best Voram engines that smuggler cubits could buy. The first viper let loose with a salvo that struck Hephaestus’ wingman in the port intake, the explosion ripped the wing completely off.

“Holy Frak, I’m hit…I’m hit.” Yelled Green three. “Krypter Krypter Krypter…Green three declaring an emergency.” The damaged viper went into a spin and struck Green six in the process causing minimal damage to the port wing cannon. Lensherr flipped the safety off his firing trigger and let loose a short burst towards the oncoming rogue viper. The cannon fire stitched its way across the high engine. Without correcting course, he passed the damaged viper, his starboard wing scraping against the fuselage.

“Green leader-Hephaestus…request permission to ignore second viper and pursue cargo ship.”

“Hephaestus-Green leader…good shot kid, you and Green four are instructed to give pursuit, we’ll handle the second rogue viper.” Ordered the squadron leader. Lensherr and his wingman had accelerated and had already passed the second viper before either could acquire a firing lock and fire on the other. They kicked in their turbos and made their way after the cargo ship and its lone viper protector. They were almost within the asteroid field. The lone viper had picked up his pursuers on his Dradis and flipped over to face them. These two Colonial vipers stood between him and an incredible payday, and he was not about to let that happen. He let loose short bursts of fire. Lensherr himself was not one to waste ammunition on prolonged fire, he was a firm believer in short accurate bursts, apparently so was this pirate. The pirate corrected for drift and the incoming viper’s momentum after each shot.

Green four was a seasoned pilot with at least six years experience in the Mk VI. That experience ended when cannon fire from the rogue viper struck the canopy head on, obliterating the reinforced polycarbonate material striking the pilot in the head and chest. Green four was killed instantly. It was now only Lensherr and the pirate. His pulse quickened, and the hair on the back of his neck bristled. This obsolete viper was clearly being flown by a crack pilot, and Lensherr was not about to let his guard down. He was approaching the Mk I on full battle thrusters, at the first flash of the pirate’s cannons Lensherr pushed the control stick hard forward bringing his viper into a dive. The pirate flew by him and Lensherr went into a reverse loop, righting himself on the pirate’s six. He let loose a controlled blast striking the port and high engine. The viper was now drifting, and with only one engine, he was not going to be going very far, Lensherr immediately reversed course and went for the cargo ship.

The smuggler’s ship was slightly bigger than a Colonial Raptor, and Lensherr doubted it possessed an FTL drive. His eyes focused on the Dradis screen. “There you are!” Lensherr poured on the speed, the smuggler was just entering the asteroid field, but it was too late, the young Colonial officer from the Triton had ‘mark one eyeballs’ on him. There was no way he would lose him. Lensherr switched on his transmitter to Unicom, and spoke.

“Attention civilian transport ship, this is Colonial Viper 271 from the Battlestar Triton…you are ordered to stop immediately, please respond!” ordered Lensherr. The transport ship picked up speed and started to take evasive action. Lensherr just smiled. “Fraking idiots!”

Lensherr glided through the asteroid belt easily, his much smaller ship was able to avoid the larger rock fragments. The smuggler was forced to chop his speed in order to maneuver safely around the asteroids. Lensherr pulled up closer and realized he would have to disable the transport’s engines without destroying the ship. This would not be as easy as it was with the rogue viper out in clear space running on a straight flight path. The asteroid field forced the transport ship’s pilot to continually roll and bank his ship to avoid a collision. He had one chance, and with a quick squeeze of the trigger, he took it. The cannon fire blew out the port engine. The smuggler would have to exit the asteroid field or face certain death attempting to pilot a large craft on one engine in a dangerous asteroid field. The smuggler chose self-preservation and started to exit the field, once clear of it he cut his engines and surrendered. The remaining members of Green squadron arrived on station after destroying one viper and further disabling the second one that was already sidelined with engine damage. Two Raptors towed the transport ship and rogue viper back to Triton. The smugglers were placed under arrest, and Lieutenant Junior grade Matthew Lensherr was eventually promoted to Lieutenant and given a commendation for bravery.

Present day…
Hephaestus switched on his flight communicator to the training frequency. “Alright ladies and gentlemen, this will be the last hop of your training class. Your written exams are complete and have been graded; this last exercise will determine who wears the wings and who does not. Time to play kill the academy master, good luck to you all, remember your training and good hunting!”

Lensherr yanked the controls hard port and took his viper into a dive towards the deck; he was heading for a canyon notorious for clipping the wings of viper pilots not paying strict attention. This was one of many differences between Earth and the former Colonies; while Earth’s air forces trained very hard, there were limits as to what was allowed to happen in training flights. Not one Earth air force would have ever contemplated allowing a game of search and destroy through a notoriously dangerous terrain such as the one Matthew Lensherr was now traversing.

A Cylon raider was cold, methodical and fearless. The thinking in the Colonial Military was that training had to walk that razor’s edge at all times, to push beyond the limit in order to have even a remote sense of equality in combat against a more advanced adversary that was not limited by human emotion such as fear, or an over-abundance of caution.

This point-of-view often produced vigorous debate amongst Earth officers and Colonial ones. However, Admiral William Adama was in command of the Earth Defense Force, and his was the final word. Viper training on Earth would be no different from Viper training in the former twelve worlds. Lensherr roared through a magnificently colored canyon. These were rugged and arid landscapes of desert and rock, mountains where thunderstorms deliver deluges of rain that tear the land apart leaving amazing trenches, and cliffs that would be any hiker’s dream to enjoy. However, this area was closed to civilians, and the airspace severely restricted.

The eight training vipers would be split into four two-man teams with the sole mission to seek out Hephaestus and shoot him down before he did the same to them. The bulk of initial EDF viper pilots were seasoned military earth pilots. Subsequent training classes were opened to military non-combat pilots and commercial pilots. This class was mostly civilian pilots from across the world and posed no serious threat to a seasoned combat viper pilot such as Lensherr, but he would not take that for granted. There was some serious diamonds-in-the-rough in this particular class, thought Lensherr. Cadet Kelly Rasputin was one such pilot; Lensherr took a special interest in her progress. His Dradis chirped, taking a quick glimpse down at the screen he noticed he was being “painted” by vipers TV-one and TV-two, the “TV” standing for Training Viper. They were just entering the canyon and far enough back to make Lensherr think they were being too cautious in the winding terrain.

He knew this terrain like the back of his hand, having flown it hundreds of times since being assigned to the Viper Academy as chief instructor. There was a unique rock structure coming up with a large opening in the middle of it. Just big enough for a viper to pass through at cruising speed by the hand of a seasoned pilot with mere feet to spare on either side of the wings. Hephaestus depressed the thruster pedal and increased speed heading straight for the towering rock structure. The Dradis chirps started to break up as he pulled away from his pursuing vipers. He passed through the opening at high speed and immediately pulled back hard on the stick to gain altitude. After a 2,000-foot climb, he leveled off to come parallel with the horizon. He could see his pursuing vipers fly around the structure, the pilots made their first mistake. By flying around the structure as opposed to through it, they committed themselves to staying in the canyon that narrowed at the top, preventing them from exiting for another half-mile, losing precious time and position.

His Dradis now picked up four more contacts at four o’clock low; the second mistake of the day. These four pilots should have split up into two groups. He rolled to starboard and descended upon the four fighters. Arming his weapons, he locked onto TV-4 and fired his cannons. The laser pulses that emerged in place of actual rounds found its target on the receiver of TV-4’s fuselage. First kill to Hephaestus. As was the procedure for a kill, the pilot shot down would return to the base and sit out on the wing of his viper. The three remaining vipers peeled off, and Hephaestus gave pursuit to the single viper that was making a dash for the deck. The lone viper pilot corkscrewed in an attempt to avoid being hit, Lensherr easily compensated and shot him down, veering off for a fresh target.

His onboard computer warned him of a viper attempting to acquire a firing lock on his viper. Lensherr glanced all around and spotted a pair of vipers coming in from the south. TV-7 and TV-8 were bearing down upon him. Cadet Rasputin was flying TV-8 and in the lead. Hephaestus went into defensive mode and made for the canyons, the two vipers hot on his trail. The computer was registering glancing hits from Rasputin’s withering assault, nothing fatal yet. He depressed his thruster pedal deeper and corkscrewed in order to prevent giving her a clean shot. The jagged rock formations gave perfect cover for the pilot not afraid to brave them up close, which Hephaestus did. He noticed TV-7 chop back his speed slightly; Rasputin maintained her speed and matched Nemesis turn for turn. Lensherr smiled at her persistence. He was right about this one; she had what it took to be a good viper pilot, but was far from being in the same class of most of GALACTICA’s original viper pilots. He broke out of the short canyon and gained altitude. The plane-of-motion between Hephaestus and TV-8 was identical, she was matching him turn for turn. Hephaestus would have to bring his viper “out of plane” meaning that he would have to get out of sequence with his pursuer. “When finding yourself defensive ENERGY IS EVERYTHING,” this was something Hephaestus drilled into his trainees. To compensate for this you had go into a high-speed turn and maintain that turn and force your pursuer to bleed energy in order to stay with you with the hope that they will overshoot your turning circle.

Rasputin maintained her turn longer than expected; she clearly paid attention during his lectures. He was going to have to get creative to shake her. His turns grew tighter and already he noticed Rasputin’s wingman fall back even farther. In an instant, he applied maximum flap which resulted in dragging the bottom of the plane backward, forcing the nose down. The confused cadet flew right past him and was now in the defensive position. Hephaestus capitalized on this role reversal and acquired a firing lock on TV-8’s engines. With a squeeze of the trigger, Cadet Kelly Rasputin was sent back to the tarmac. It would take another seven and a half minutes for Matthew Lensherr to make short work of the remaining vipers.

Gina Inviere slipped her hand gently into the DataStream, the water cascaded over the luminous glass surface of the basin and she was now interfaced to the hybrid that controlled the Basestar. Her eyes closed, she proceeded to access information about the solar system before them, information that was catalogued covertly by a scout ship. She opened her eyes and turned to Leoben who stood close by.

“Seven planets inhabiting a system containing a medium sized star, on the third planet is where the humans seek refuge?”

“That is correct, the planet Earth, home the lost thirteenth tribe of Kobol.”

Gina had long harbored doubt about the decision to exterminate the human race. As evidenced by Sharon Valeri and D’Anna Biers, not all of the humanoid Cylons agreed that the human race must be destroyed. Cavil and Doral were the most vocal critics for destruction of the human race, Simon was a scientist, and she felt he secretly desired to see an end to hostilities if for no other reason than to have an endless supply of humans to study and conduct tests on. Leoben was the mystery; he viewed himself as a prophet who was chosen to assume the mantle of leadership of the Cylon race, which he came to view as an empire. He was successful in bringing the Doral and Simon models over to his way of thinking regarding one Imperious Leader. Cavil had strong reservations that she speculated bordered on a grudge being held over the treatment of his series aboard Leoben’s now-destroyed Basestar.

“We cannot risk approaching the planet, and we have no intelligence that would tell us if they have managed to transmit this virus from a mobile platform such as a Battlestar or satellite.” Stated Gina.

“That is correct. It is my opinion that we send out a patrol to be intercepted by their fleet and see if the virus is unleashed. Further, we must send a team covertly to Earth to apprehend D’Anna Biers and her hybrid offspring. This child must be protected and studied; it is the future of the Cylon race.”

“We have two Basestars, and we have summoned two more to this system. I would advise remaining outside of Earth’s solar system and gauge their defensive capabilities.”

“Agreed.” Said Leoben. He leaned closer to Gina, ensuring that her ears only would hear what he had to say.

“You don’t believe we should destroy the humans!” he said, more statement than question.

“I believe we were in error in attempting to exterminate them. We lived under an armistice for close to forty years, our race moving out from under the oppressive yoke of our creators to create our own civilization. I don’t see the logic in the hostilities between races, all we have accomplished was the near genocide of their race, and increased the chances of creating an environment for vengeance.”

“Do you believe we should leave them to their own devices?” asked Leoben.

“I don’t know, the odds of their seeking revenge is high, and justifiably so.”

Leoben smiled. “Interesting observation.”

The Battlestar Excalibur cruised high off the flagship’s starboard side rear. This Mercury-class Battlestar was a near twin for Terra-1, and her commanding officer; Commander Takeda Kenshin was a student of Earth military history of war and officer ship. His inspirations were Prussia’s Frederick the Great and America’s General George Patton, and of course the famous Japanese military leader, whose name he bore, Takeda Shingen, 16th century warrior.

Surrounding Excalibur and the GALACTICA were her escort destroyers; small, quick lethal platforms consisting mainly of point defense guns and limited amount of larger caliber batteries. These destroyers were primarily built to be secondary line of defense right after a Battlestar’s air wing. No match for a Cylon Basestar, but it is believed they could hold their own if fighting in packs for a short duration.

Approaching the edge of Earth’s solar system, approaching the region known as the Kuiper Belt, Pluto loomed large before them. On August 24, 2006, Earth’s International Astronomical Union much to the chagrin of astronomy enthusiasts reclassified Pluto as a dwarf planet. Pluto now served as Earth’s only remote outpost, a guardian to the gates of Earth’s solar system in that region.

Members of Silver Spar squadron flew in advance of their group, under command of Captain Brandon Costanza; it consisted of Orion, Photon, and Costanza’s newest assignee whose call sign was Baby Face. A name assigned to him by his academy instructor due to his boyish looks. The four vipers flew in a staggered formation well ahead of the flagship, scouting the area before them. The patrol was six minutes out from GALACTICA when all hell broke loose. The blinding flash of Cylon raiders jumping into the quadrant caught them off guard. Approximately twenty raiders appeared before them.

“Holy Frak where did they come from?” yelled out Steve Parsec to nobody in particular. Photon was a veteran viper pilot who did not startle easily. Cylon raiders appearing out of thin air, or more accurately, out of a hyper light jump was enough to startle even the most hard core combat pilot.

“All wings-Hotdog…tighten your formation. We are going to have to fight our way clear so you are now weapons free. Lets go get em!” ordered Costanza over the comline.

Aboard GALACTICA, Captain Felix Gaeta had immediately identified the Cylon raiders, and the ship was placed at Action Stations. Colonel Adama was at her station immediately.

“Sitrep Felix…what do you have?” asked the executive officer.

“Sir, Dradis identifies 22 Cylon raiders jumping into our outer security envelope. They practically jumped right onto our patrol.” Apollo turned on his heel and walked over to the center of the CIC where the command chair was. Admiral Adama was now entering the CIC and was asking for a sitrep.

“Sir we have 22 Cylon raiders that jumped into the outermost perimeter of our security envelope. Our patrol squadron has engaged them; I was just about to launch the alert fighters.”

“Make it happen XO. Captain Gaeta I want a long range Dradis sweep immediately, those raiders didn’t come alone, find their Basestar.” Snapped Adama.

“My guess is that this is a recon-in-force, sir.” Added the younger Adama.

“Get some Raptors in the air, Colonel. Notify the Excalibur and our escorts of the situation and have them prepare for hostilities.” Vipers from Blue squadron were launched along with the remainder of Silver Spar squadron. Two Raptors, one from each squadron took to the vacuum of space as well.

Major Nina Nintius-Bastain, call sign Betty brought her raptor off the deck within minutes of the klaxon sounding. Her job would be to direct the field of combat for Blue squadron, and Lt. Jenna St. Lynn would handle Raptor operations for Silver Spar squadron. After accounting for all her assigned vipers, Betty opened up a direct line to Blue squadron’s flight leader and CAG Major Kara Thrace, call sign Starbuck. “Starbuck-Betty, our patrol is hip deep in that Cylon force, let’s kick in the burn and get out there!” While combat was taken deathly serious, there still was an amount of squadron pride in the air, and Betty wanted her squadron to get into the fight before the remaining Spars, and the eventual launching of her husband’s Hunter Seeker squadron.

“Blue squadron-Starbuck, let’s kick in the burn people…our patrol is outnumbered and defensive.”

Starbuck was only partially correct, Costanza’s patrol was indeed outnumbered, but they were far from playing the part of defenseless. The four Spars had immediately engaged the Cylon patrol. Hotdog guessed that the raiders had to have been just as surprised as they were when they came out of the jump to encounter a viper patrol. He decided to hit them hard fast and try to even the odds.

“Orion-Hotdog, watch your four o’clock position.” Lt. Anastashia Liathain caught view of the incoming raider and went into a roll, enemy cannon fire making a clean miss. She righted her aircraft directly behind two raiders that were bearing down on Baby Face. She lined up the first raider in her sights and awaited the tone indicating a firing lock. The high-pitched tone sounded over her helmet’s interior speaker. She pulled the trigger and unleashed a devastating volley upon the raider, destroying it. The second raider banked hard away from the exploding raider instantly. Her quick reflexes matched the escaping raider and she gave pursuit. This raider bobbed and weaved; Orion was getting annoyed at her inability to take it out. Something was wrong, she could feel it. This raider was running and not fighting. The fleeing raider was drawing her into a crossfire being prepared by two converging raiders.

Photon recognized the tactic instantly. The Earth pilots were proving very good viper pilots, but did not have the experience of countless dogfights to realize the trap being set. He depressed his thruster pedal and set out on an intercept track. Orion’s wing cannons blazed, and the raider rolled maniacally to avoid the fire. “Orion-Photon break pursuit and dive now!” yelled Photon over the comline. She immediately complied, and barely avoided the cannon fire that was unleashed on her by two unseen raiders. Had Photon not warned her she would have taken the full barrage from the incoming raiders that she was being led towards. One of those raiders was destroyed by Photon, and his wingman Baby Face gave chase to the second.

Back on board GALACTICA, Admiral Adama was out of his command chair and pacing. He stopped at his XO who was standing beneath the main Dradis screen. Lee Adama was an extremely capable CAG prior to his promotion, and William Adama would be lying to himself if he never entertained the thought of whether or not he would be able to fill Saul Tigh’s shoes. In the time since he promoted Lee he had come to realize that whatever concerns he had where for naught, His son transitioned very well into the Executive Officer slot. With his voice low, he looked his XO directly in the eye.

“Lee, this could be a prelude to an all out attack. Send a scrambled signal to the Pluto base; they’ve got four full squadrons of Mk. VII’s, and I want to make sure the base commander has them airborne at a moment’s notice.”

This thought had entered Apollo’s mind as well, he was pleased to see that he was in tune with the old man. “Aye sir.” Felix Gaeta was now at the Dradis console, looking at the admiral.

“Sir I just received a message from Excalibur, they have red and green squadrons prepared to launch on your orders.”

“Inform Excalibur to remain on standby, let’s see what happens with this patrol. If this is an advance team, then the Basestars won’t be far behind.” Ordered Adama.