Earth 2010 - The Colonies of Kobol Reunited Chapters 23

CHAPTER 23

The stealth Heavy Raider was descending from the upper atmosphere. Unless they were detected visually, they would make it to the surface unmolested. Simon looked quite pleased with himself, he had located D’Anna Bier’s signature.

“I have a lock on the renegade, the coordinates have been fed into the navigational computer and we will put down in a remote area.” Simon was a scientist, he had no interest in D’Anna’s opinion on human-Cylon relations, nor was he concerned that she would commit treason by aiding the remnants of the colonies flee from certain extermination. His concern was the hybrid child that she alleged to have produced. This child was the future of the Cylon race, and he longed to study it.

“The Centurions know their assignment?” Sharon asked Leoben.

“They know that the traitor is to be taken into custody, and that the child is to be protected at all costs. Anyone else will be eliminated.” Responded Leoben without emotion. The chrome-plated Centurions were heavily armed, and would carry out their assignment with precision. They were traveling south over the province of Alberta, Canada and had yet to arouse any suspicions. Cylon stealth technology, much like their propulsion systems were more advanced than the Earth-Colonial technology.

9:27 am Pacific Standard Time. Groom Lake Airbase.
Matthew Lensherr had just finished feeding James his breakfast while his wife, pregnant with their second child “slept in.” The child bore a strong resemblance to him, but had his mother’s eyes. The boy was never sick, and perpetually happy, Matthew Lensherr often thought about this child’s future. He was the product of human and Cylon parents, he was important. Military and civilian medical doctors routinely ran tests on James, and the findings filled volumes of binders. Glancing at the clock he smiled, his good friend would soon be here.

“Good morning Matthew.” The soothing voice of his wife filled his ears, soft and melodic. It betrayed the lethality of the woman-machine before him. She looked beautiful, and even pregnant she surpassed the physical fitness of any human female. She came over and hugged her son who became very excited at seeing her. She then reached over and kissed her husband. Staring deeply into her green eyes, Lensherr gave silent thanks to the Gods for her, even if she was once the enemy of humanity. As far as he was concerned, she made up for that long ago.

“Nightstalker is inbound. We’ll go pick him up at Base camp Airfield after we finish up the morning’s activities.” Base camp Airfield was a civilian airport in Warm Springs, Nevada that was originally used as an emergency airfield for the Groom Lake facility in 1971. D’Anna always liked Mark Sarnex, and knew that her husband loved the man like a brother. He was always happy when around his friend, and their separation due to individual reassignments seemed to leave a void in her husband. A visit from him was well timed.

FROM THE ADAMA JOURNALS:

I should have known that they would not give up so easily, like a cancer that does not get properly treated it keeps coming back. The Cylons have returned from a two- year abeyance, and I fear that this was a prelude to future hostilities. It is the opinion of my senior staff, as well as my own, that the Cylons were testing our defenses to see if we were able to make our “Cylon Virus” portable. If so, I fear we have all but confirmed that we have not. If this is the case, it should be assumed that the Cylon fleet would not be far away. Four Battlestars and now six destroyers will not be enough against the combined might of the Cylon armada.

The new Earth Defense Command is at a gross disadvantage due to a shortage of qualified personnel to staff a fully functional space fleet. We do not have the luxury of twelve planets to provide our manpower. We will adapt, improvise and overcome these obstacles however. The Colonies of Kobol have been reunited and as long as I draw breath, nothing will ever tear them asunder.

The Stealth Heavy Raider was now properly concealed from prying eyes about a half mile from the main road leading to the Groom Lake facility. The plan was to gain access to a large transport vehicle that would allow for safe movement and conceal the Centurions from sight. Sharon had shed her light jacket and wore a tank top and tight-fitting jeans. She stood in the breakdown lane, staring down the oncoming lane. In the distance, she spotted what she was looking for. A large cube truck appeared, large enough to hold them and three of the Centurions. The fourth Centurion remained at the Raider location to protect it. The sweat glistened off her exposed chest and shoulders, and she flagged down the truck when it got to within 200 yards of her. The truck slowed and pulled over to a stop 50 yards past her. Sharon jogged over to the driver’s door and stepped up onto the running board.

The truck driver was a large bald, middle-aged man sporting a goatee and numerous tattoos on his large arms and the side of his neck. He scoped out the young, petite woman before him with a sinister smile spread across his cruel lips. “You’re a long way from nowhere sweetheart, what the hell are you doing out here?” he asked as he obviously was mentally undressing her.

“My transportation broke down; I really could use a lift.” Replied Sharon, her eyes wide with a slight pout on her lips. Her arms were leaning on the top of the driver’s door; she had strategically placed them in a way that would push up her breasts, causing maximum cleavage. The truck driver was making no effort to hide leering at her breasts, and after a few moments finally spoke up.

“I’ll give you a ride, babe, in fact it’ll probably turn out to be the ride of your life. Unfortunately I ain’t no taxi service, you want a ride you’re going to pay for it…and I don’t need money!” Sharon smiled, and hopped down from the running board. The door opened and out stepped the driver, he towered over the smaller woman before him.

“You name the price, and I’ll gladly pay it.” Cooed Sharon. The man stepped closer and grabbed Sharon by the waist, pulling her in close. He bent down and kissed her roughly, his hands fondling her. His breath stank of tobacco and whiskey, the kiss felt like steel scraping against marble, a repulsive specimen of humanity she thought. She endured him no longer. One hand reached up, grabbing the man by the throat, the other hand reached towards his groin, the grip of both hands was like a steel vise, the driver’s eyes widened and he inhaled deeply in pain. The driver felt a sharp pain to his groin, then a white-hot searing and then warmth. The young woman held his now-detached manhood in her delicate hand; she held it aloft for him to see.

“You slant-eyed witch…” he screamed, voice cracked and no full of fear. The hand around his throat tightened, and he lashed out in defense. The huge fist caught her full in the jaw, and any hope that this little Asian woman would release him was now lost as she slowly turned her head back to him smiling. That punch should have knocked her unconscious if not outright killed her. Instead it only served to make her feel alive, and with lightning speed she jammed the severed member and ripped scrap of denim deep into his mouth, knocking his front upper and lower teeth back into his throat. He dropped to his knees, a look of horror now visible upon his cruel face. Sharon pulled her free hand back in the form of a spear-finger strike; the speed in which she struck was a blur, he straight fingers burying themselves deep within his skull, death was instantaneous. She released his throat and let him drop to the ground. Looking around, she signaled a Centurion to approach from its covered position and remove the body from the side of the road.

“All set!” she called out to her comrades. Leoben walked out from his concealed position smiling.

“Very nice Sharon. In all honesty I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Don’t underestimate this model Leoben; it would not be in your best interest.” Replied Sharon as she wiped the blood and brain matter from her hands. Replacing her shoulder harness and light jacket, she retrieved the keys and opened the locked rear compartment of the truck. It contained large boxes labeled Whirlpool Washing Machines that the three Centurions lifted easily and removed from the truck, depositing them with the body of the dead truck driver behind a rock formation on the side of the road.

Within minutes, the humanoid Cylons and their metallic brethren were safely aboard and traveling down the highway towards Groom Lake. Doral held a medium-sized device that was tracking a known Cylon in the area. D’Anna Biers was their prey.

The plane had touched down twenty minutes earlier, and Mark Sarnex was exiting the enclosed gangway with his carry on slung over his shoulder. Scanning the terminal’s immediate area, he spotted what he was looking for instantly. A smile spread across his face.

Matt Lensherr stood with his hands on his hips, D’Anna who was early in her pregnancy looked radiant standing at his side, and young James stood between them. “Welcome to Nevada!” said Lensherr as he walked over with his hand extended. The two shook hands, and Mark Sarnex turned to embrace D’Anna. Her green eyes shone brilliantly, and her physique barely revealed any hint of pregnancy. He leaned down and scooped up the toddler at his feet. The boy giggled and Sarnex playfully messed up his neatly groomed hair.

“Sweet Lords of Kobol young James has gotten big!” exclaimed Sarnex as he placed the boy on his shoulders. “The boy comes from superior stock Hephaestus…good thing he has his mother’s looks though.” Joked Sarnex as they made their way for the exit

“Good to see you Mark, I trust your visit to the East coast was a memorable one?” said D’Anna, a sinister smile spread across her face.

“I have no complaints oh fair one! I have an all new appreciation for Earth women.” He replied with a wink. The four soon were exiting the airport premises in Lensherr’s EDF-issued all- terrain vehicle and making their way back to the Groom Lake facility. The trip consisted primarily of small talk about Mark’s east coast trip and other elements of his shore leave. The small talk soon turned towards business.

“I’m hearing things in the rumor mill Mark.” said Lensherr flatly.

“Such as?” responded Sarnex, knowing this would eventually come up.

“I hear that you have been offered a position in EDF’s newly created Intelligence Directorate. The External Operations Division to be precise.”

“You don’t miss much my friend. As much as I enjoy the cockpit of a viper, and commanding my own strike squadron aboard Terra-1, Intelligence is my first love.”

“It’s an important division, and the opportunity to cultivate it in its infancy I’m sure is overly compelling.” Replied Lensherr.

“Serving under Tigh aboard a brand new Battlestar is a great opportunity, but the fleet has plenty of viper jocks, what they don’t have is qualified Intel specialists of my caliber.” Said Sarnex. Lensherr turned his head towards him unsure if this was Mark’s usual level of humility shining through, or if he truly meant it.

Lensherr’s cell phone chirped, and the conversation was temporarily put on hold. “Lensherr!” he answered. His eyes widened, and he glanced at Sarnex. “Alright, I’m 30 minutes out.” He terminated the call and placed the phone in the holder that was attached to the dashboard.

“What’s going on Matt?” asked Sarnex. He knew Lensherr long enough to know that the call was important.

“GALACTICA was attacked just beyond Pluto. There were no specifics, but the entire system has been placed on alert, all shore leaves have been cancelled and personnel recalled to their stations.” Sarnex glanced down at his cell phone, the battery was still dead.

“Cylons?” asked D’Anna, knowing the answer.

“Yes, I just don’t know what happened. We need to get back to the base and find out what’s happening; this could be a prelude to an all out attack.” Replied Lensherr.

“The virus will protect us.” Said D’Anna.

“Yes, Earth itself is safe providing they have not developed a defense to it, but our Pluto and lunar bases, as well as our fleets may not be if confronted by a superior attack force.” The blinding light, and subsequent explosion jarred the vehicle violently, Lensherr fought to maintain control. Smoke was billowing from the hood, and the sound of the crumpled metal fender rubbing up against the radial tire on the passenger side front was evident. Thick acrid smoke filled the interior of the vehicle.

“What the frak was that?” yelled Sarnex as he braced himself. The front right tire blew then shredded making Lensherr’s work that much harder. James cried out, and D’Anna wrapped her arms around him. Her eyes scanned the exterior surroundings looking for the threat. A sickening whine and grotesque thumping filled their ears as the vehicle started to slow. Another two hundred yards and the engine coughed and sputtered, they came to an abrupt stop on the side of the road near a rock outcropping.

“Is everyone okay?” yelled Lensherr as he looked over his shoulder towards his family. D’Anna nodded in the affirmative, and Sarnex replied that he was okay. “We need to get out of vehicle, no telling what will happen next while we’re sitting here defenseless. He grabbed his cell phone and jumped out of the truck. Yanking open the rear door he helped James out of his car seat. D’Anna was out quickly, and scanning the surrounding areas.

“Mark, in the trunk is a black nylon EDF bag, grab it quickly and let’s get away from the truck, it’s only a target now for whatever is out there.” The four quickly made their way from the disabled and now burning EDF-issued vehicle. They headed for rocky terrain and Lensherr carried his son as D’Anna easily kept pace with the two men.

“That was obviously an RPG Matt. We’ve heard enough of those to know one when we hear it.” Said Mark.

“But where the hell did it come from, and who fired it?”

“Centurions!” shouted D’Anna. She pointed down the roadway to a ridge a half mile away. Her cybernetic eyes easily detected the chrome glint of the attackers that the unaided human eye could not.

“Mark, the bag…give it to me.” Said Lensherr as he came to a complete stop, putting James down on the ground. Sarnex threw the medium sized bag towards Lensherr. Unzipping it, he reached in and retrieved an assault rifle. He tossed it to the waiting hands of Nightstalker who quickly inserted the live magazine that was also tossed to him. Lensherr pulled out a set of field glasses and started looking down range in the direction D’Anna had pointed. He adjusted the magnification and frowned.

“Frak! Three toasters…heavily armed and five skin jobs, range of half a click. They’re on the move.” He handed D’Anna the field glasses and again picked up James. “Let’s head for the high ground, it’ll give us a better tactical position.”

“It’s too convenient them finding us here, obviously they are tracking me.” Said D’Anna.

Lensherr flipped open his cell phone and punched in a series of numbers, after a pause he spoke. “This is Lensherr; my vehicle has been attacked and disabled enroute to the base, the attackers are heavily-armed Cylon Centurions, a total of eight…three mechanical and five humanoid models. We’re in the vicinity of mile marker 22 straight out of Base camp Airfield…requesting immediate airborne assistance.”

He snapped shut the phone and turned towards Sarnex. “They’re launching a Raptor and mobilizing the Marine unit. At best they’re 15 minutes out; we’ll have to take cover.”

“One rifle and four thirty-round magazines won’t be enough to fight them off.” Said Sarnex solemnly.

“We won’t need to fight them, just hold them off until the help arrives. I’ve drilled it into every viper pilot that ever fell under my command that short, controlled, accurate bursts are the preferred offense. Just make sure you use those 120 rounds wisely, the Centurions are the primary threat.”

Sarnex took cover behind a stone formation and looked in the direction of their pursuers. They were gaining ground, and did not tire. They stopped at the fork to scan the horizon for their prey. Sarnex zeroed his weapon on the visor of the lead centurion and squeezed off a three-round burst striking it directly in its optical scanner. The Centurion staggered back, sparks shooting off its head. The two other Centurions zeroed in on the location of the shot using their audio receptors and saw the muzzle of the barrel perched up on the stone. They fired instantly, the rounds striking Sarnex’s stone cover, sending fragments in all locations. One stone fragment caught Sarnex under the chin drawing blood.

“I’ve clipped one…still operational but I doubt it’ll be as effective with its optics offline.” Said Sarnex as he rejoined Lensherr’s family. An explosion occurred a dozen yards behind them; they were launching RPG’s in Sarnex’s last location.

“Let’s keep going, I want to make that ridge at two o’clock.” Said Lensherr pointing to his right at a large ridge.

“Lots of open space between here and there Hephaestus!” said Mark.

“No choice Nightstalker, they’re traveling faster than we are, and don’t tire.”

Leoben had easily scaled the rock formation before him; the Centurions would have to go around it. He scanned the area before him intensely. Sharon was soon at his side, and Doral and Simon were right behind them.

“Centurion 271 is operating on acoustics only and is useless to us at this point. The initial attack should have produced a better result.” Complained Leoben.

“Perhaps you should not have sent a Centurion to do a Cylon job.” Quipped Sharon. Leoben looked at her with an arched eyebrow. He moved forward, leaping over small formations and scaling the rock walls that separated them from their prey. The sun was blisteringly hot, and while he and his fellow Cylons were unaffected by it, the human prey he pursued were not. The two humans were slowing down, feeling fatigued. They would soon be upon them.

Lensherr had reached the base of the ridge, it was a difficult climb, and he could not do it while still holding James. D’Anna was right behind him, and he was amazed at her stamina; even pregnant she was in twice the shape he was. Mark had dropped back to a large outcropping of rock in order to provide cover.

“D’Anna, you need to get up there, I won’t be able to navigate that ledge with James, but if you can get atop it I can hand him off to you. Her arms reached up for a handhold, and she pulled herself up effortlessly. Her arms were not big, but they were muscular. He placed James on his shoulders and told him to wrap his arms tightly around his neck. James was young, but understood what his father was telling him to do. He was remarkably calm throughout the ordeal; Lensherr attributed it to his Cylon side. He started to climb the formation, and unlike his Cylon wife, he did not negotiate it effortlessly. He was breathing hard, and he felt like his lungs were going to explode.

Sarnex caught a glimpse of movement about 80 yards to his left and low. Leoben had already moved from sight. The sweat was dripping down into his eyes, and in the time it took to wipe it away, he had missed Sharon coming into the kill zone. He focused intently and waited a moment. The Gods were smiling upon him; Aaron Doral’s head now appeared from behind a rock, scanning the area. The rifle was not equipped with a laser sight, but at this range, a conventional scope worked just as well. He lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger. The single round entered through Doral’s left eye, and what passed for his brain exited through the back of his skull. The smile on Mark Sarnex’s face was short lived as his cover took a hail of gunfire from the Centurions that now emerged from the valley. He shouldered the rifle and took evasive action, sand and rock spit up all around him as the Centurions fired upon him. He dove headlong over a long boulder that was about four feet high. He recovered and positioned the rifle on its flat surface. The lead Centurion was 40 yards and closing fast. He fired off three round bursts that staggered, but did not stop the approaching killing machine. He emptied his magazine into the Centurion’s head and ducked to reload. The shadow looming over him indicated that his time had run out, he rolled and fired blindly. Another magazine emptied into another Centurion. The monstrosity dropped to the ground, its weapon aimed straight at Sarnex. He shut his eyes in anticipation of certain death; the only sound he heard was loud clicking. The Centurion’s weapon was malfunctioning, and its extremities were flailing uncontrollably.

With weapon firmly in hand he took stock of his surroundings, D’Anna and James were safely in place on the high ridge, but Lensherr was nowhere to be found. The distraction cost him; he felt the rifle yanked violently from his hands. His finger was bent backwards in the trigger guard and he not only felt the bone break, but also heard the snap loudly. Through the white-hot pain, he saw Simon standing above him. The tall black man was not considered a fearsome killer, he considered himself a scientist first, but was more than capable of killing a human. Sarnex lashed out with a devastating kick to Simon’s solar plexus hoping to give himself some breathing room. Too slow, Simon caught his heel and twisted it until the cartilage in Mark’s knee tore. He cried out, the pain was immense.

“Don’t feel too bad human, you disabled two Centurions and killed Doral. Unfortunately your luck ran out.” Said Simon almost apologetically. He reached down and pulled Sarnex up by his neck, the Cylon’s strength was incredible. He could feel the fingers closing around his windpipe like a steel vise. The splattering of warm fluid on his cheek startled him, touching his face he looked at the blood on his fingertips. Simon’s vise-like grip lessened and Mark was able to wrench himself free. He dropped to his knees in agony. Simon looked surprised; he slowly turned around to face Matthew Lensherr who was wielding the rifle like a club. Sarnex could see the hideous blood-soaked blunt-trauma to the back of Simon’s skull. The back of his shirt soaked in blood. Lensherr could not risk shooting Simon with Sarnex so close, so instead he put all his might into the swing and did his best to cave in the Cylon’s skull.

“Not…hard…enough!” said Simon as he closed the gap between them. Lensherr swung the business end of the rifle around quickly and fired blindly. The rounds stitched Simon from groin to face; the blood spattering at such close range was messy. In the time it took for him to wipe Simon’s blood from his face Lensherr was struck hard from behind. The rifle clattered off a large rock, the stock cracking in two. The wind was completely knocked from his lungs and Lensherr slid on his face across the gravel coming to a stop at the mechanized torso of the Centurion that Mark incapacitated earlier. His face burned and he spat out the taste of dirt and gravel as he attempted to suck in air.

“Captain Lensherr, I have suffered interference from you for the last time.” Said Leoben smiling. He circled the downed human like a predator circles wounded prey. A smile spread across his face as he bent down. He grabbed a handful of Lensherr’s hair and pulled his head up off the ground to stare straight into his eyes. “After I kill you I will tend to the traitorous whore that bore you the half breed. She will suffer horribly before being boxed I assure you.” Unlike the movies, Leoben’s threat did not instill newfound strength and resolve into Lensherr, who was desperately trying to fill his lungs with precious air. Each inhale produced excruciating pain to his back indicating rib damage. Leoben lifted Lensherr effortlessly and threw him against a rock formation. The impact shattered two ribs and resulted in a concussion. Lensherr knew he was fading fast, and his thoughts turned to D’Anna and James. He knew the end was near for Mark and himself. Mark saw Leoben move in for the kill, he was within a few feet from the damaged rifle and saw an opening. With great effort, he dragged himself close to the rifle, he lunged for it and with extreme effort, he rolled over and pointed the rifle towards Leoben with his opposite hands. The broken trigger finger was at an obscene angle and with great effort, Mark got off two shots; one striking Leoben in the shoulder, the other a clean miss.

An enraged Leoben kicked the rifle from Mark’s hands well out of range. He picked up the battered Sarnex and snapped his arm. Sarnex never felt his body hit the ground; the pain was so intense that he had immediately blacked out. By this time Lensherr had made it to his hands and knees and was attempting to crawl to a nearby boulder to help get to his feet.

D’Anna held James closely; outside of Matthew, she had never felt such intense feelings of love and protection. James had her green eyes, and his father’s nose and lips, a beautiful combination she always thought.

“A beautiful child D’Anna, he is our future!” came the voice of Sharon. She appeared a few short meters away from them. D’Anna leapt to her feet, shielding her son. Sharon’s eyes immediately fell upon D’Anna’s belly. “Another child!” she whispered.

“You should have left Earth alone when you had the chance Sharon. The madness must end; you of all people know this.”

“I know no such thing traitor. Rest assured that this model lacks the defects of all the other Sharon models. You will be returned where you belong, your offspring studied and this miserable mud ball of a planet incinerated along with every human vermin on it!” Sharon was smaller than D’Anna was, but she was not pregnant and moved with blinding speed towards James. Sharon had not anticipated the human nature of a mother protecting her child; and was genuinely surprised when D’Anna had clamped down on her shoulder with an incredible strength. Her emerald eyes blazed a seething, murderous rage as she spun Sharon around towards her.

Sharon attempted to break the hold and found that she could not, with blinding speed she head-butted D’Anna who staggered back towards the ledge. She reached out and was able to grab Sharon by the shoulder harness of her still-holstered weapon. They were forty feet above the ground and the momentum took them both off it. With great effort D’Anna was able to spin Sharon beneath her, they both landed with a sickening thud on the rocky ground below. Sharon took the brunt of the fall, and her body cushioned D’Anna’s from the impact. The pain was incredible thought D’Anna as she cradled her stomach, Sharon was twitching, and her lips trembled as she attempted to speak.

“Traitor…your…time…has come to…close!” gasped Sharon, as she was able to roll to her side with the utmost effort. D’Anna had enough, a helmet sized jagged rock was within reach and she grabbed it, lifting it high.

“The moment you threatened my son you signed your own death warrant.” Spat D’Anna as she brought the rock down hard on the side of Sharon’s skull. Repeatedly she struck with a strength she forgot she possessed. When she finally regained her composure, she tossed the blood soaked rock aside. Sharon Valerie lay dead before her, the once attractive face battered unrecognizable. D’Anna Biers lay on her back momentarily, the pain in her stomach incredible and she feared for the unborn child within her.

Lensherr’s head was pounding, and his vision blurred. His hands were soaked with the blood that was escaping from the laceration on the back of his head. He felt as if he would vomit at any moment. He knew he was concussed, and knew that Leoben was moving in for the kill. Escape was impossible, and even without a concussion and numerous cracked or broken ribs he was no match for Leoben Conoy in hand to hand combat. He never saw the fist that struck him, he did however, feel his jaw shatter. This was it! Lying on his side, he saw the humanoid-Cylon approaching, and his last thought was that D’Anna and James were able to escape. Leoben had stopped at the lifeless husk of the Centurion, reaching down he took hold of the arm. With an incredible display of strength, he ripped the mechanized arm from the torso and advanced on the broken body of Matthew Lensherr. His last image was of Leoben holding the Cylon’s severed arm high above his head, preparing to bludgeon him unto death. The shot that rang out was the last thing Matthew Lensherr heard before slipping into sweet unconsciousness.