Earth 2010 - The Colonies of Kobol Reunited Chapters 22

CHAPTER 22

Leoben Conoy was dressed in standard civilian attire, nothing that would draw unwanted attention. Earth attire was surprisingly similar to Colonial attire, so this would be one less hurdle to overcome. Beneath his vest was a shoulder harness that contained one Colonial-issue sidearm; its former owner being one Major Elyssa DeAlma, former Raptor pilot, prisoner, and love interest for Leoben; now quite dead. Doral, Simon, and Sharon were similarly attired, and checking their side arms. Four heavily armed Centurions would accompany the mission to Earth. A heavy raider was outfitted for stealth capability, and a small series of hyperlight jumps were planned to take the most direct route to Earth orbit without tripping any remote Dradis relay satellites or manned patrols.

Gina was observing the four preparing for the mission, she was aware of the feelings of envy percolating within her. For reasons she could not understand she wished she was on the mission to Earth. She looked directly at Leoben and spoke. “We are in agreement that D’Anna will be returned alive with the child.”

Leoben looked contemplative for a moment before replying. “Well it would be against my better judgment in regards to dealing with traitors, but it is obvious that we will need her for information regarding Earth and her defenses.”

“Once we enter Earth orbit under stealth mode we will start our scan of the planet to locate D’Anna. Our estimations conclude that this could take a minimum of twelve hours to accomplish.” Said Simon. “It also must be understood that we will be out of resurrection range if we encounter the virus.”

“The Basestars will divert the attention of GALACTICA and her escorts with the expectation that reinforcements will be called in to assist her.” Said Doral.

“Once we locate the traitor and her offspring we will collect her. The Centurions will provide the security needed. As long as we keep within stealth mode, and limit our exposure, our mission’s success estimates increase.

“May God watch over you all then!” said Gina lowering her head.

“God will have nothing to do with our success or failure!” replied Simon somewhat annoyed.

Back on Earth, Captain Mark Sarnex is enjoying his leave. Since the moment they came to Earth, Nightstalker had not taken shore leave of any kind. He is the flight leader for Werewolf squadron aboard the Battlestar Terra-1 and now was enjoying a relaxing hot tub soak with two very lovely women in an establishment of questionable repute in the state of Rhode Island. Mark found the geographically smallest state in the United States much to his liking. Its coastal beauty intrigued him, and for some odd reason he felt “at home” here.

The hot tub relaxed him, and the two rather buxom young women had been his companions ever since encountering them at the airport lounge. They were locals, and took it upon themselves to show him the best the state had to offer. After sampling some fine Italian cuisine in the neighborhood known as Federal Hill, the three journeyed south towards the coastline. After a long stay on the pristine beaches of Charlestown, they three made their way to a local “health spa” that catered to the particular tastes of the well-to-do.

Tanya sat to Mark’s left, a glass of dry white wine in her delicate hand was half empty, she was the more talkative of the two ladies, and Sarnex deduced that her bust-size exceeded her IQ. A fine shore leave to be sure thought Sarnex, a grin permanently plastered to his face. Liza was slightly more cerebral than her best friend was and apparently had a better plastic surgeon. Her breasts were somewhat smaller, and looked a whole lot more real. Both women were in fine shape, and Mark was amazed at the synchronicity in which they performed sexually. This would be a shore leave to remember.

His cell phone chirped, and before answering it he looked to see who was pestering him. The cell phone came with a program that would display an image of his choice for a particular programmed called. The image on his screen was the Greek God of Fire, Hephaestus. Hephaestus was also Captain Matthew Lensherr, former Silver Spar squadron leader aboard GALACTICA, current viper training academy headmaster, and best friend. Much to the annoyance of his two female companions, he toggled the on button. “Speak mighty Hephaestus.”

“Mark…where the hell are you?” asked a cheery Lensherr.

“East coast my friend, fifth day of shore leave and loving every minute of it.”

“Any plans to go west?”

“Only if you’re divorced and D’Anna is now a free woman.” Quipped the inebriated Sarnex.

The chuckle at the other end of the transmission was followed up by another question. “Seriously, any plans to head to Groom Lake? I thought we’d get together before you have to return to Terra-1.”

“I have two more days of leave and should be able to get a transport out there.” He replied. Disappointment clearly showing on the face of the young women.

“Excellent, D’Anna and I will expect you, and James would love to see his godfather.”

“Inform the lad that I will be there. Gotta go Matt, I have ‘pressing matters’ that need my immediate attention.” Replied Sarnex.

“Tell the young lady I said hello!”

“I’ll tell them both!”

Lensherr cut the transmission leaned back and laughed. “Both? Good Lords the luck of that man!”

The battle was raging beyond Pluto. The raiders were putting up a good fight for being so outnumbered. Four vipers were lost, and the raiders were penetrating GALACTICA’s outermost security envelope.

The sudden appearance of two Basestars changed the dynamic of the battle. Raiders were instantly launched and entering the field of battle.

“Dradis contact…two Cylon Basestars have just jumped into the quadrant.” Alerted Gaeta. “They’re launching their entire compliment, Admiral.”

“XO, scramble a message to Pluto, have them launch their fighters. Also inform EDF command of the situation, we may need reinforcements.” Ordered Adama. Apollo immediately carried out his orders.

“Helm, bring us about…course 144.5. Weapons officer, standby on main batteries.” Boomed Adama.

The remaining compliment of GALACTICA’s fighters now entered the fray. Hunter Seeker squadron was now plowing through the incoming raiders. Lieutenant Anthony Cruise; call sign Maverick immediately zeroed in on a pair of raiders and committed to attack.

“Eagleone – Maverick…two bandits at eleven o’clock low I’m going in.” Eagleone was the call sign for Lt. Warren Rucks, a seasoned viper pilot recently transferred to Hunter Seeker squadron. Rucks was due for promotion to captain, and when his mentor Falcon was given his own squadron to command he petitioned to be assigned to the new squadron.

“Maverick – Eagleone…I’m with you, take the frakers out.” Replied Rucks over the comline. Maverick was a former naval aviator; he had “requested” to be assigned to GALACTICA upon his graduation from viper school. The young pilot had promise, and Adama genuinely liked him, even if it was not readily apparent. Maverick had accelerated to attack speed and lined up the closest raider in his gun sights. Getting a good tone indicating a computer lock he squeezed the trigger, the raider was blown to pieces. Both vipers avoided flying through the debris field and hunted down the second raider that was doing its best to evade fire.

Betty was far enough from the battle and her raptor was monitoring the fight keeping an accurate accounting of enemy fighters. Her husband’s squadron just entered they fray, and naturally her anxiety level rose slightly.

“All attack fighters – Betty…be advised you have another enemy squadron coming in from that second Basestar.” The fighter squadrons from Pluto were still too far out at this time, and Excalibur’s thirty vipers in addition to GALACTICA’s eighty plus were outnumbered.

GALACTICA and Excalibur had split up and were flanking the Basestars. The destroyer escorts were throwing up a flak wall for the occasional raiders that ignored the vipers and engaged the Battlestars. One of the Basestars launched a devastating salvo of missiles towards one of the destroyers. While very fast and maneuverable, the escort was unable to escape the barrage. It took two missiles in the stern section, effectively crippling the main propulsion unit. The destroyer’s captain ordered the ship brought about on maneuvering thrusters, and was attempting to get above the oncoming Basestar. The ship was too slow and the next barrage of missiles found their mark. The ship exploded violently.

In the GALACTICA’s CIC, the death cry of the Destroyer Valiant sounded across the bridge. Adama slammed his fist down on the armrest of his command chair. “Damn it! XO signal the Destroyers, they are not to engage Basestars…leave them to us. Have them fall back and protect us from incoming raider attacks.” GALACTICA closed on the nearest Basestar, her destroyer escorts positioning themselves on her flank. The weapons officer was soon reporting that the Basestar was in effective firing range.

“Weapons…full spread from the forward batteries…execute!” commanded Adama. A faint shudder could be felt throughout the ship as her massive forward batteries discharged. The projectiles streaked towards the massive Basestar, striking one of the unarmored Y-shaped hulls. The retaliatory strike is immediate, much to Adama’s surprise. A blistering shower of missiles rain down upon the aging Battlestar. The Destroyer escorts do their job buy throwing up a deflecting flak curtain, cutting down many of the missiles. Some however succeed in finding their mark.

“Admiral that Basestar shrugged off that last missile attack, they must be building these things armored now.” Said Apollo. Cylon Basestars relied on overwhelming force of their raider compliments as their primary defense system. Typically, they did not fare well in close-range combat with the heavily armored Battlestars.

“Fraking toasters are starting to smarten up. Helm…lets get in tight with them, prepare for salvo firing.” Ordered Adama. The Excalibur was taking the fight to their Basestar; Commander Kenshin was using hit and run tactics. With a ship half the size of its opponent, and twice as fast in sub light mode, her commander was not mirroring GALACTICA’s toe-to-toe battle tactic. Excalibur was maneuvering at her top sub light speed while unleashing wave after wave of missile fire.

“Colonel, I have Silver Spar squadron on approach for reload and refueling, Hotdog kept them on station until the Pluto fighters arrived.” Informed Gaeta.

“Get them aboard and refueled and reloaded as quickly as possible Captain, even with the fighters from Pluto we’re outnumbered.” Snapped Apollo. Captain Gaeta acknowledged and directed the incoming fighters to land on both decks. The flight crews knew they would have to get these birds topped off and rearmed in the fastest way safety would permit.

Lt. Anastashia Liathain glanced at her instrument panel, warning lights flashed indicating several system malfunctions courtesy of the battle. She had 600 pounds of fuel on board and her ammunition was depleted. Being the seasoned pilot, Orion keyed her microphone and declared an emergency. “GALACTICA-Orion requesting emergency approach on starboard landing bay…battle damage has resulted in complete failure of primary hydraulics, and a warning light on secondary hydraulics, over.”

“Orion-GALACTICA, roger your request for emergency approach, proceed to starboard landing bay, remaining vipers are hereby directed to the port landing bay until you have secured landing, over.” Replied Gaeta.

Orion coaxed her viper; christened Red Lancer towards the landing bay, it would not be a smooth approach due to the GALACTICA maneuvering under fire. She had six Battlestar landings under her belt, none under combat conditions. Undaunted she compensated for the pitch of the deck and headed in. Her last view of the field of battle was the looming Basestar under heavy fire. Red Lancer came in heavy and set down on one of the platforms that would lower it into the hanger bay. A haze started to form inside the cockpit, and an alarm went off indicating a slight smoke condition, somewhere in the cockpit was an electrical fire.

The heavy raider materialized for the final time high up in Earth orbit. Its stealth technology would prevent it from being detected by Dradis sweeps. Doral glanced at the blue-green planet beneath them. “Hyperlight jump completed, we are in geosynchronous orbit 35,786 km above Earth's surface.”

Simon’s hands worked the console before him at lightning speed. His long fingers tapping in commands that would begin a systematic search for a three model Cylon on the planet. Four heavily armed Centurions remained motionless against the bulkhead.

“Notify the Baseship; inform them that we arrived without incident.” Said Leoben to the Sharon model.

4,536358,827 km away, the battle rages with heavy casualties on both sides. Another Destroyer fell before the Cylon Basestar, with extensive damage done to a third. Aboard the lead Basestar, Gina is informed of Leoben’s success in reaching Earth covertly. A Cavil model is at her side.

“The GALACTICA and her support ships have fought a conventional battle with us, it must be assumed that this ‘virus’ of theirs cannot be transmitted from a space ship. That must mean the transmitter is planet-based.” Said Cavil.

“That would be an acceptable speculation. We can now recall the raiders and withdraw, the ship has sustained moderate damage and I prefer to remain intact.” Cavil thrust his hands into the basin that contained the data stream, and the hybrid reacted immediately to the commands. Within moments, the airborne raiders broke off their attack and returned to their assigned Baseship. Soon, both Basestars vanished.

The crash crew swarmed around Red Lancer once it had been lowered into the hanger. The hanger crews were all trained firefighters, and were outfitted in their silver firefighter gear and self-contained breathing apparatus. Orion had popped the canopy and a firefighter wielding large bolt cutters had appeared and reached in over a very annoyed Anastashia Liathain. He was cutting her initiator hose with a de-arming tool. The de-arming tool was designed for the Rescue Team to be able to cut the Initiator Hose on the rear top of the ejection seat in vipers and raptors. The basic concept was that it cut a section (about 1") out of the hose. This prevented the hot gases from the initiator from reaching the seat motor and firing it. You did not want a malfunctioning ejection seat going off in a hanger, especially if the pilot was still strapped in and a member of the rescue team was attempting to extricate the pilot. This would most likely result in the death of both people.

“Is that really necessary petty officer?” asked Liathain pulling her helmet off, frustration clear in her voice.

“Standard procedure on aircraft damaged in battle sir. The last thing we need is you and I taking the express route to the hanger ceiling due to an ejection seat prematurely going off.” Explained the young petty officer.

Liathain heard every word of the petty officer’s response, but all it translated into was that “Red Lancer” would be down for repairs. “Get that damned initiator hose replaced as soon as possible, no telling how long it’ll be before the Cylons return. The primary hydraulics is shot, and the secondary is giving me a warning light. God only knows what’s burning under the control panel.”

“That’s what the knuckle draggers will find out Lieutenant… let them do their jobs!” The unmistakable voice of Captain Brandon Costanza came from behind. He was clutching his helmet in his hand and was soon at her side. “Good job out there Orion, how many kills did you have?”

“Four sir.” Replied Orion triumphantly. Hotdog looked over to the deck chief and called out.

“Hey Chief…my rookie has four toaster kills, can you ‘tag’ her viper when you get the chance?” Tagging meant painting a silhouette of a raider on the fuselage of the viper indicating kills.

“As time permits Captain!” came the reply of the deck chief that obviously had other priorities.

“The Cylons have retreated for the moment, no sense in rushing to the head or grabbing something to eat while waiting for a reload and refuel. Hunter Seeker squadron will remain on alert, I need to get topside…want to find out our losses. Go grab some rest Orion, you did great today.” Said Hotdog as he walked out of the hanger bay. Liathain just stood there, watching as the deck crews swarmed over her viper and a few other battle damaged vipers. This definitely beat hunting for submarines she thought, smiling broadly.

In the CIC, Adama was receiving the bad news from his executive officer. “We lost two Destroyers, the Valiant and Picon. The Destroyer Potemkin has sustained moderate damage to their FTL drives and portside weapons grid. A total of eleven Vipers from GALACTICA and two from Excalibur were destroyed, two pilots were recovered alive and uninjured from the rescue raptor. The Pluto air wing lost six vipers as well.” Reported Apollo.

William Adama leaned back in the high backed command chair. He rubbed his temples and exhaled slowly. He never took the deaths of viper pilots lightly; even though he was a raptor pilot and not a viper pilot in his early career, he still considered them the razor-tipped part of the spearhead of any battle fleet. The loss of two Destroyers was the worst of it. He could feel the bile rising in his mouth.

“Anyone care to speculate on what they were doing here, and where the hell they went to?” asked Adama. His senior officers were surrounding his chair, and GALACTICA’s CAG; Major Kara Thrace was the first to speak up.

“Admiral, my guess is that they were probing our defenses. We have to assume that the Basestar we destroyed with the virus was able to warn their command of Earth’s location prior to their destruction. They could have been testing to see if we’ve been able to utilize the virus while mobile, instead of the land-based transmission.”

“Regrettably we have been unable to accomplish that task. The virus transmission requires more energy to allow the transmission beam to penetrate distance and plating of the Basestar. Even the GALACTICA could not generate the required energy without jeopardizing the ship’s defensive grid. EDF physicists are attempting to rectify that, even if on a smaller scale, much like what the Cylons did to us back in the colonies.” Said Felix Gaeta. The ensign covering Gaeta’s station as he was in discussion with the senior staff interrupted.

“Admiral…I’m receiving a priority message from General Peter McAllister at Earth Defense Command.” Adama placed a set of headphones offered by Gaeta on his head and signaled the ensign to patch the communication through to him.

“GALACTICA actual on the line, go ahead Command!” spoke Adama.

General Peter McAllister was the Supreme Commander for Earth Defense Command. He was Adama’s superior officer. “Bill, what the hell is happening out there?”

“General we encountered two Cylon Basestars as we were exiting the solar system. We’ve lost two destroyers, and a third is limping its way to the Pluto base as we speak. Nothing that cannot be repaired, but the Valiant and Picon were lost with three hundred souls on board. Nineteen vipers lost along with seventeen pilots. Two pilots were able to successfully eject.”

“I’ve placed the military on alert, and Commander Tigh’s battle group is prepared to jump to your location on your orders.” Replied McAllister.

“I’d advise caution at this time sir, the Cylons have withdrawn from the area, it is the opinion of my senior staff that they may have been an advance team sent to determine if our Cylon virus was portable. It is my opinion that they will return with superior numbers at some point in time. I plan to fall back to Pluto and remain on station until they make their next move.”

McAllister was a seasoned military commander, and he trusted Adama explicitly. He allowed Adama almost free rein in the creation of the Earth Defense Fleet, and rarely if ever questioned his actions. Now would be no different. “Admiral proceed as you see fit, and keep me advised. I will notify the President!”

“Message received, GALACTICA actual out!” The transmission was cut and he handed the headphones back to Gaeta. “Starbuck, I want all of your pilots on alert status until further notice, I don’t want any of them farther than their quarters or ready room. I need those birds in the sky at a moment’s notice.” Ordered the Admiral. On the GALACTICA, the viper crews were berthed on the same deck as the hanger bay in order for the pilots to get to their fighters in the shortest possible time. The recreation room where most of the pilots unwound were located two decks above the starboard flight pod, it would be off limits to pilots until further notice.

10:20 am Eastern Standard Time. Earth, the state of Rhode Island on the North American continent.
Mark Sarnex opened one eye and peered at the clock on the nightstand; 10:20am was the time, it took him a few moments for his eyes to focus, but his brain immediately registered the dilemma. “Oh frak, I must have slept through the alarm!” Pushing himself up off the mattress, he realized that there was a reason he was so drained, two of them actually.

Tanya reached out and grabbed Mark’s arm gently. “Leaving so soon stud?” The sheet slipped off her size 38 DD breasts revealing the small dragon tattoo on the cleavage of her left breast.

“Yes I’m sorry to say, need to get to TF Green airport for the 11:45 Southwest flight to Nevada. Lucky for me this state is only 45 minutes in any direction, I can be at the airport in 20 minutes from here.” Liza was now waking up as well and Tanya dropped down on both elbows and planted a long kiss on her lips. Sarnex was immediately regretting his promise to Hephaestus. “Lords of Kobol how I love you Earth women!” laughed Sarnex as he pulled on his pants. Reluctantly he left the two women to enjoy a continuation of last night’s festivities as he hailed a cab to the airport. He flipped open his cell phone to call Hephaestus when he noticed the battery was dead. This was not a good start to his morning.