It is currently Mon Nov 20, 2017 4:20 am

All times are UTC - 5 hours




Post new topic This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 147 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 10  Next


 Post subject: Episode 35: The End of Innocence
PostPosted: Sat Mar 19, 2011 12:05 pm 
User avatar
Site CyberBiker
Joined: Sat Jun 24, 2006 10:51 am
Posts: 4439
Location: The Grid
Offline
Battlestar Libra
Escorting potential bio-Cylon to the brig
Day 276 0615 Hours


Despite the early hour, the procession escorting the man who called himself "Brother Carter" had drawn a substantial crowd to the corridors of the Battlestar Libra. Detained just hours earlier on the surface of Oasis while attempting to board the Astral Dawn, the priest had been matched to an artist's depiction of an infiltrator to the fleet, a drawing based on a description by Dr. Sarah Vaillant. Arrested upon his presentation to Major Scott Duncan, the suspected Cylon was now being led to the high-security brig so that Vaillant could confirm his identity. Word of the capture had spread like wildfire throughout the ship, and many off-duty crew members lined the passageways. The fact that it had not been established for certain that this was one of the Cylons known as 'Cavil' did not seem to matter much to the Libra crew. They seemed on the verge of physical violence, and no one was holding back on the verbal assault.

"Gods-damned skinjob!" railed one crewman.

"Murderer!" yelled out another, spitting toward Carter.

"Frakking machine!" shouted a third, shaking a clenched fist.

"Make a hole!" shouted Marine Major David Dedrick, leading the group at a swift walk. "Stand aside! Move! Move! Move!" On either side of Carter, Wolfe and S'Ri shouldered crewmen aside, trying to keep Carter moving through the passageway and keep an eye on the crew all around them, wondering if any moment someone might produce a gun and start firing. Behind them, Duncan carried his assault rifle at the ready, wishing he'd had time to swap out for riot ammo. He'd used the combat net to call for another squad of Marines, but they'd only be able to meet him at the brig. At least it wasn't far from the flight pod to the battlestar's prison.

In the midst of the four Marines, Carter stumbled forward at a near-run, his head tucked low against the anger of the crowd. His face wore a bewildered look, and though he struggled to remain brave, the rage evident around him was wearing him down. He was near to tears.

Somehow the group reached Libra's brig without any serious incident. There, the reinforcing squad of Marines stood four abreast in the corridor, parting only to let the prisoner detail through. Then they stood fast, keeping the turbulent crew at bay.

The four Marines led Brother Carter into the battlestar's prison. Most of the cells were empty, save for one which contained two of the crew who appeared to be sobering up from the night before. While the two crewmen stared, Dedrick left the others standing with Carter and entered the Warden's office to make arrangements to see Sarah Vaillant.

"Whoa," LCpl Wolfe said, obviously shrugging off tension now that they were in the relative safety of the brig's staffroom. "That's a frakking angry mob out there." Carter looked up at him, still hunched over, hands cuffed behind his back. His gaze was confused, shocked. Wolfe met his eyes only briefly, then looked at Duncan.

"Understandable," Major Duncan replied without emotion, "but things were a bit crazier than I expected." He hadn't gotten any sleep the night before and he was tired, but still he berated himself silently, I should have been prepared for this and called ahead to have a squad meet us there on the deck.

Wolfe shrugged philosophically. "Everyone is on edge, sir," he offered, although he didn't think the Major looked like he was on edge. Major Duncan looked as calm as he looked all the time, even in the midst of a firefight. So did Major Dedrick, Wolfe mused, and S'Ri. He wondered how he himself appeared, to them.

After a few moments, Major Dedrick returned. Looking at Duncan, he said, "We're clear to enter the high security section." Turning to S'Ri and Wolfe, he continued, "You two are relieved - the boys here can handle things - but wait for Major Duncan. You can leave with him."

"Yes, sir," S'Ri nodded.

Dedrick turned to join Duncan, who had already moved Carter to the blast door which separated the two sections of the brig. He paused, though, speaking once again to the two Lance Corporals, "Oh, and if Colonel Cole arrives, please ask him to wait for me, out here."

"Sure thing, sir," Wolfe agreed.

As they passed into the high security section of the brig, Dedrick and Duncan were joined by two armed Fleet non-coms. The guards took up position on either side of Carter, just as Wolfe and S'Ri had. Duncan had already spied Sarah Vaillant and was leading the group toward her cell, but Dedrick's attention was on the other occupant of this section - Leoben Conoy. The male Cylon stood within his cell, watching Dedrick and the others escort Brother Carter. He cocked his head slightly to one side, analyzing the situation. Then, seeming to come to some conclusion, he broke into a toothy smile and fixed his gaze on Dedrick. The intelligence officer locked eyes with Leoben, maintaining a poker face. The Cylon's apparent amusement told him nothing - Dedrick was certain that Leoben would be equally amused whether Carter was a Cavil model, or not.

Sarah didn't know what to make of the group at first when they entered the high security section, but Scott Duncan and Major Dedrick were with them, so it would have to be something of importance. Dedrick was looking into another cell, one that Sarah couldn't see into from her own, but his face didn't give anything away. Scott Duncan wore his usual 'mask' as well, guarding his emotions from everyone else around him with that Scorpian stoicism of his, but Sarah knew that his tranquility was deceiving.

It was when she spied the elderly man in a priests garb in between the two armed guards that the female cylon understood what the visit was about. Upon seeing the man's face, Sarah thought it was indeed Cavil for a fleeting moment. She couldn't suppress a disappointed sigh as they approached and she realized the man just closely resembled the Cylon. When Duncan stopped right outside the transparent panel that made up one of the walls of her cell, Sarah gave him a sad smile and a shake of her head before he even activated the speaker system to talk to her.

"So it's not him, Sarah?" Duncan asked, maintaining his outward calm. Inwardly, he felt a mixture of anger and frustration.

Sarah shook her head again. "He's a close match, Scott, for a moment even I thought it was him... but it's not. I'm sorry." After a moment, she added, "The one we are looking for would be a bit shorter, about an inch or so... maybe that helps?"

Brother Carter had slowly shaken off the effect of the vicious crowd, and now listened carefully to the exchange between Sarah and Duncan. He looked somewhat more in control of himself now, and haltingly he began to speak. "So... so this is what our Cylons have become?" he asked, looking from Sarah to Leoben, and back.

Major Dedrick gave him a steady look. "Yes," he affirmed, "this is what they look like now, though there are still chrome fighting units." Dedrick set his mouth into a grim line, thinking for a moment. "They destroyed the Colonies, Brother Carter, killing everyone and everything that we know. They've followed us here, and we have reason to believe that one of them is attempting to infiltrate our fleet. One whom you very much resemble."

A pained look of realization came over Carter's face. "You think... you thought I was one of them? So you brought me here, to have her confirm it?" Dedrick nodded. Carter looked at Sarah, seeing that she did not recognize him. "Now what?" he said, to no one in particular.

Dedrick looked at Scott Duncan, the two men sharing a look that echoed Carter's words. Now what? Looking back at Carter, Dedrick gave a slight sigh. "We'll find you a place in the fleet, a safe place."

Duncan rubbed his face tiredly with his palm. Back to square one. He nodded. "Thanks, Sarah. We appreciate your help." With that, Duncan led Carter from the brig, leaving Dedrick standing before Sarah's cell.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Mar 19, 2011 6:24 pm 
User avatar
Site Headhunter
Joined: Wed Oct 18, 2006 10:43 am
Posts: 6174
Offline
Perseus
Day 276
0615


"Colonel, final jump is plotted and drives are online." Captain Teller said. "FTLs are ready and at your command. Looks like we're only one step away from home, Sir. Or at least from what passes as 'home' these days..."

Baker nodded at the Captain once before looking towards Commander Vansen. At the Commanders nod, the young Colonel ordered the final jump and with a sudden bright flash of light, the destroyer Perseus rematerialized back in the Oasis system.

"Jump successful Sir," Baker reported to Commander Vansen, his eyes riveted on the large DRADIS console, "we're holding station between Oasis sixth and seventh planet. DRADIS indicates the fleet is still in the general vicinity..." Suddenly, the Colonel fell silent for a moment. "Sir, there's a squadron of Vipers closing in on us quickly. Guess they're a bit nervous about us jumping into the system like that..."

CPO Becca Reyes looked up from her station at comms, "Commander, Taurus is requesting authentication codes immediately."

"Push them across and get me Taurus Actual." Vansen said. He looked over to the XO, "Something's up...I don't like this reception we're getting. Step us up to Condition One, better safe than sorry."

Baker nodded and turned around, "You heard the man, get us to Condition One!"

Becca looked back over at the Command Table, "I have Captain Butler on the handset. He says Taurus Actual is en route to CIC."

"Charly, listen in...I'll see if the Night Watch Officer has any answers for us." Karl took a deep breath as picked up the handset, "Captain Butler, this is Perseus Actual. SitRep."

<"Commander, Taurus Actual is inbound to CIC to speak with you personally. What I am authorized to tell you is that there has been incidents on the planet since you have been gone. The fleet as a whole is at condition two at this time.">

"Understood and I'll wait for the Commander, Captain." Vansen hit the mute button. "Incidents...I don't like the sounds of that. When Captain Palmisano gets here, have him join us on the other handset. I also want Capt. Goodland to contact her counterparts and get current intell."

Capt. Patricia McDonnell looked over from her station at tactical, "Commander, Colonel...ship reports ready for combat. Alert Gorgons taking up station-keeping positions around the ship with full weapon payloads. The rest of the squad will launch in five minutes, both Ranger Scouts report they will be ready for launch in two minutes. Engineering reports that the FTL-drive will take at least four minutes to spool up again."

"Maintain status until informed otherwise." Vansen said. After a few moments, he could hear a handset being picked up on the other end of the transmission.

<"Perseus Actual, this is Taurus Actual. Karl, how many people are listening in?">, Commander Guynes asked.

Vansen looked over and noticed CPO Reyes was busy handling other comms traffic, "Just you, me and my XO. What's happened?"

<"Major Bays will be en route to you shortly to brief you and your Command staff. Sorry about the warm reception, but there has been an incident on the ground...one would say a biological one.">

Frak! Vansen thought to himself. "When did this happen...can you tell me that?"

<"Nearly a day ago. Also, there has been some blow-back on several fronts. Amanda will give a general debrief and bring intel information over. I will see you at 1000 to answer any questions and get briefed on your mission.">

"Aye, Commander...we'll be waiting for you. Meanwhile, what are your orders?"

<"Form up with Taurus and maintain Condition Two until notified otherwise. We need to be ready to jump with the civvies on short notice...or take care of any issues. With that said, I wish I had been on your trip. Taurus Actual out.">

Karl hung up the handset. Marine MarDet CO Palmisano had just arrived at the command table as the Commander lowered his head for a moment and then looked back up, "Shit...that was the last thing I wanted to hear."

Vansen allowed his words to settle on two men as he looked over to his third in command, "Captain Teller, set Condition two through out the ship and contact Taurus Control to set up our patrol position."

Without even waiting for an acknowledgment, the Commander looked back at Baker, "We'll fill you in as we go, Capt. Palmisano. That term used...biological...that can only mean they found a Cylon on the planet. We'll find out from Maj. Bays when she gets here. Thoughts, Charly?"

"Other than that we're in deep shi...err, no Sir. Not much we can do right now, apart from waiting for Major Bays, but maybe we could use the time for some combat drills? You know, just to keep everyone busy?"

"No, we need to let some nerves settle a bit. It's going to be rough when the bad news gets out...what ever it is. Start the crew rotation for Condition Two. I get the feeling we're going to be on standby alert for a while." Karl then turned to his top Marine, "Capt. Palmisano, double the marine guards on the scientist group. They do not leave their little zone until otherwise told. When Guynes gets here to meet with me and possibly Dr. Dunnivan, my first order of business will be to get them off of the ship."

"Yes Sir. Guess that's the end of their pleasure cruise, right?"

"You guessed right." Vansen paused for a moment in thought. "I guess this is really the end of our little rest in paradise."

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Wed Mar 23, 2011 7:09 pm 
User avatar
Site Headhunter
Joined: Wed Oct 18, 2006 10:43 am
Posts: 6174
Offline
Cylon Base Ship
Day 276

(with RaiderX)

The Six model known as Brenda Holliwell slowly walked down a corridor going towards the command center. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore a gray pantsuit. The only sound as she walked was the constant light hum of the ship itself.

Brenda turned to the hall and noticed an Eight model exiting the control room. The Six paused, waiting for the Eight to get close enough to where others would not hear them. Within moments, Brenda made eye contact with the Eight.

"No news of your sister or the One that went with her?" Brenda asked.

The Eight, clad in a colorful outfit that presented a violent contrast to the stark colors of the Baseship's interior, shook her head, a sad expression marring her face. "No, nothing. It's as if they just vanished when they jumped away, and maybe that's exactly what happened. If the coordinates were a bit off, they might have jumped too close to the system's star..."

The other possibilities, that Sarah Vaillant and Brother Cavil might have died in a hail of colonial defensive fire were left unspoken.

Brenda shook her head slowly, "I see. Maybe they made it to the ground and their still formulating their plan? We know they are somewhere in download range..they should be fine, as the humans put it. I just...

The Six seemed at a loss of words. Thoughts raced through the head of Brenda, looking for the right words. Her 'emotions' showed on her face, like there was something she wanted to say, but couldn't bring herself to say. Her cylon 'sister' noticed and took a step towards her, her hand suddenly nearing Brendas shoulder, touching her ever so slightly.

"What is it, Six?" the Eight asked, her voice filled with concern.

Brenda drew a breath and looked at the Eight, "Ever since Caprica and Boomer started this discussion, I've debated my own actions...and the actions we've taken since we made the move to wipe out humanity."

"And you're having doubts now, feel that maybe Gods judgement was too harsh?" The Eight stepped even closer and lowered her voice down to a whisper. "Many of my line are having similar thoughts. But it's too late now, what's done is done..."

"What if we misunderstood God?" Brenda said in a concerned tone. "What if we were wrong?"

"I have no idea, sister. But I guess there will be some sort of reckoning soon...maybe there is still time for us to redeem ourselves?"

Brenda noticed a One further down the corridor turning to enter the Command Center. She took a moment to compose herself, "If there is reckoning, Cavil will be the first to feel the wrath. Has there been any word of Simon? As he goes, so will the Fours."

Eight had noticed the One as well, but he had already entered the Command center. "So far, we know nothing about Simons opinion. He, like his entire line, knows to keep things under wraps until the time is right to show your true colors. Do you think we should approach him about our...feelings? And what about the Twos? Have you heard from Leoben lately?"

"Leoben and the Twos stand ready for peace...they just have an interesting way of putting it. As for the Fours, they like to hold internal debates. I have a...feeling, as the humans put it, that they are split." Brenda took a deep breath, "Cepha and his contingent have a lot of power. I know Caprica is going to Simon personally to present our side."

Brenda then noticed Cepha entering the hall from the command center. He looked at the Six and and Eight with a look of near disgust. He turned and entered another hallway before passing them.

"There is just something about him..." Brenda Six said quietly. The tone of her voice softened, "There is something about that Four I do not trust."

"Maybe we should listen to your instincts on that one," Eight conceded, "so for now, it's all 'hurry up and wait' for us, isn't it?"

Brenda raised an eyebrow, "The wait is the worst part, no matter how you look at it. Lets hope the wait ends soon."

The Eight nodded and turned away from Brenda, leaving towards the Control Center herself but stopping short after a few steps. "It all depends on Boomer and Caprica now...I really hope God is guiding those two." She turned away again and entered the Command Center before Brenda could reply, leaving the dark haired Six alone in the corridor.

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Wed Mar 30, 2011 4:33 pm 
User avatar
Site Raider
Joined: Wed May 17, 2006 11:54 am
Posts: 2229
Location: Southern Germany
Offline
Battlestar Libra
High Security Brig


Major David Dedrick watched as Duncan left the brig, then turned to face Sarah Vaillant through the clear polymer cell wall. He regarded the attractive Cylon for a moment before speaking. The brig's microphone and speaker system carried his voice past the impenetrable barrier, to the captive doctor.

"You know we can't accept your declaration that Carter isn't Cavil," Dedrick stated, his voice even, lacking any malice. "Brother Carter is cleared... provisionally... but we'll have to keep him under watch for now."

It was obvious that this failure to apprehend Cavil was worrying Sarah, but she bravely tried to smile at Dedrick when she replied. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Major. There wouldn't be a better cover than being cleared by another biological cylon, would there?"

If Cavil wasn't found, he would be either able to cause a lot of damage to the Oasians and the Colonials that were still on the ground or, to Sarah's even bigger concern, he would try to kill himself just so he could download aboard the closest cylon Resurrection Ship and lead the entire fleet to Oasis within a few hours. Time would be the deciding factor in this strange kind of race and it was running through their fingers. And there was nothing that Sarah could do but wait.

Dedrick realized that Vaillant's question about clearing Cavil was rhetorical, but he nodded agreement anyway. He read the worry in the lines of her face, and could tell as the moments of silence ticked by that her mind was racing through the possibilities. He resolved to find out what she was thinking.

"Dr. Vaillant," he began, "I realize that your current status isn't likely to encourage you to help us further...." Dedrick paused for a moment, expecting Sarah would interrupt him, but she only gave him a fleeting smile, "...but I get the sense that you have some idea as to what Cavil may be doing. Is that correct?"

The biological cylon shrugged, appearing every bit as helpless as she felt. "I have suspicions that might help, yes. If it was me, I'd try to cause as much damage and chaos as I could to slow down the evacuation process that you have going on right now. That way, I'd make sure that you would still be here when I returned."

She took a deep breath before she continued. "It would most likely end in a suicide mission to cause the maximum damage...I'd download back on the Resurrection Ship and lead the entire pursuit fleet here to take out Libra and her fleet once and for all." Again, Sarah paused. "Most likely targets would be soft targets like schools or hospitals...but an attack on the Oasian infrastructure, like their main power plants would be possible as well. Personally, I'd keep away from Camp Blue Sky, but that's just me...Cavil might still give that one a try just because it would cause the biggest interruption of the evacuation process..."

Dedrick nodded his understanding. Cavil would, in Sarah's estimation, commit suicide in order to download back to the Cylon fleet. Dedrick hoped Sarah was right, that Cavil would immolate himself in a public act of destruction. At least that would give the Colonials the starting point in a countdown to the Cylon fleet's arrival. Dedrick knew that Vaillant had just died, downloaded and returned to Libra. Observing the Doctor's face closely, he asked, "How long would we have, from when he kills himself until the fleet arrives?"

Sarah shrugged. "A day, maybe two, it depends several factors. One would be the distance, another how many downloads are happening at the time. It's not just us downloading, you know, the Raiders do it as well..."

At the pause in the conversation, one of the Fleet non-com guards approached Major Dedrick. When he had Dedrick's attention, he whispered a message: Colonel Cole is waiting for you in the outer brig. Dedrick nodded acknowledgment, then turned back in the direction of Dr. Vaillant's cell.

Dedrick inclined his head, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose while he thought for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, he fixed them on Sarah. Hesitating a moment longer, he searched for the right wording for his question. Finally, he spoke, asking, "When the Cylon fleet arrives, if we have been fortunate enough to have already left, what will they do about the Oasis colony?" Dedrick was certain he would not like her answer, but he felt compelled to ask. With his eyes narrowed and his jaw set, he steeled himself for her response.

A sad smile crossed Sarahs face when she heard Dedricks question. She had noticed that the guard had whispered something to him, but nothing more. It probably were bad news...it always were, these days.

"Whatever the Oasians want to believe, my brothers and sisters will definitely not ignore this settlement. The only question is, will they just nuke the colony or send in Centurions to take it over, and honestly, I have no idea what will happen. There are many differing views among the cylons about how things should be handled and in the end, it's all just a question of politics between the different lines. And either way, the Oasians will never know what hit them."

Dedrick found himself nodding slightly as Sarah Vaillant pronounced a death sentence for the Oasian colonists. It would not matter if the Libra fleet escaped; Dedrick had handed the Cylons Oasis, and the colony's five decades of idyllic existence were about to end. He had held their fate in his own hands, and had put the needs of the fleet above theirs; now they would suffer the cost of his conceit.

Dedrick felt crushed, his chest tight, the air around him thick and hard to breathe. Without another word to Vaillant, he stumbled toward the exit, seeking escape from the Cylons' presence. Leoben eyed him impassively as he left; Dedrick glanced his way but could not hold his gaze. Moments later, Dedrick stood in the outer, lower security section of the brig. He closed his eyes, concentrating on controlling his breathing, for a moment unaware of anything around him.

"Major Dedrick?" a voice asked, and Dedrick opened his eyes to find Colonel Cole standing right in front of him, concern showing on the young Colonels face. "Everything alright, Major?"

"Yes, sir," Dedrick breathed, knowing as he said it that it was a lie. He finished composing himself, standing at attention before a superior officer. "Colonel," he began a moment later, "the Admiral has granted permission for you to speak with the Cylon prisoner, Doctor Vaillant. You do understand, sir, that for reasons of Fleet security I will be monitoring your conversation?" Dedrick eyed Cole intently, awaiting his reply.

Cole nodded dejectedly and when he answered, his voice was very serious. "I am aware of that, yes Major. And I also know that you'll have to report everything we do or say to the Admiral afterwards. And I promise you David, neither Sarah nor I will hold it against you that you're just doing your job now." The Colonel then turned towards the blastdoor leading into the high security brig and straightened his uniform jacket. Only then he turned back towards Major Dedrick, a humorous twinkle in his eye. "Can I see her now, Warden Dedrick?"

"Yes, sir," Dedrick replied, nodding. I'm not the Warden, he thought, yet he did not correct the Colonel. The distinction certainly would not matter to Cole, not at this moment. Dedrick watched as the Colonel passed through the doorway, then followed him through, remaining at a respectful distance.

Cole just crossed the high security brig without even glancing at the incarcerated Leoben, his eyes riveted on the form of Sarah, of his Sarah in her cell.

For a moment, that seemed to stretch into eternity, the couple just stared at each other through the transparent panel, staring into each others eyes before Cole took a few steps to the side, where the buttons for the intercom were, without ever breaking eye contact.

"You came back," he said, his voice coarse, when his fingers had finally found the buttons he had been searching for, "you really came back!"

Sarahs knees buckled when she finally heard his voice again. Slowly sinking to the floor of her cell, she just nodded, a happy smile belying the tears in her eyes. "I did, and now I'm back. Miss me?"

"Of course I did," Cole grinned, crouching down front of the cell, "and I'm not the only one! You should have heard what the crew back home on the Belle said..."

"And how's Shadow?"

Shadow was a kitten that Cole had traded from a litter on Demeter a few months before. The black tomcat hadn't been named for his jet black fur though...the little rascal had taken to shadowing his 'replacement mom' Sarah from the moment he had laid his feline eyes on her. And, as Cole had once joked, no force in the known universe, not even a biological cylon could resist a kitten.

"Shadow's fine love, but I think you'll have to come back soon or I'll have to start showing up in uniforms with his claw marks on them...he's taking out his frustrations about you not being there on our whole wardrobe..."

Soon, the only sound heard in the high security prison of the colonial Battlestar Libra was a sound that hadn't been heard there very often in the years before...laughter.

It took the lovers more than half an hour to catch up, even though they had been apart for only a few days. Only then Cole turned around to Major Dedrick. "Major, do we already know for how long the Admiral wants to keep Sarah here?"

Dedrick met Cole's questioning gaze, keeping his own face impassive. "Sir," he began, "I do not know." Dedrick cast a sidelong glance at Leoben, who had been in Libra's brig for six months now. He then turned back to the Bellerophon's commander, continuing, "I would not expect her to be released anytime soon, Colonel."

_________________
Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 5:36 pm 
User avatar
Site Headhunter
Joined: Wed Oct 18, 2006 10:43 am
Posts: 6174
Offline
Battlestar Libra
Presidential Suite
Day 276


President Andy Meyers looked tired and the dark circles under his eyes proved it. Since the revelations of Kalrk and Sarah, Meyers had only slept two hours. Throughout the night, he had sat at his desk or paced the floor thinking about what had happened.

How am I going to keep the lid on this, he repeatedly asked himself. Andy had come to grips with why Admiral Rodrigues had never told him about the Cylons that were apparently cooperating with him. The president would have liked to have known about the Cylons in the brigs of Libra and Taurus before today as well.

Plausible deniablity...still, I would have like to have known before all the shit hit the fan.

Now, the Admiral was going to lay out all of the information about Cylons in the fleet. The President would be briefed by Fleet Intelligence sometime during the evening. The Vice President would get the same briefing back at the fleet roughly at the same time. Although he looked forward to the meeting, Andy felt nervous about what he would learn.

What did you hold back on us Ben? Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret asking you those questions...

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 7:27 pm 
User avatar
Site CyberBiker
Joined: Sat Jun 24, 2006 10:51 am
Posts: 4439
Location: The Grid
Offline
Oasis
Southeast of the City
Day 276 Afternoon



Lieutenant Josef Morgan stepped over a rotting log, its wood glistening black and wet where it was not covered by a green fuzz of moss. His boot grazed the top surface as he passed, and a mass of dark insects scrambled in every direction, seeking renewed cover. Around him, slender trees rose in clusters from grassy hummocks, their limbs flaring wide and low to nearly obscure the sky. The Oasian sun pierced the canopy here and there to fall on the sodden earth, each sunlit patch graced by a glut of plant life seeking nurture from the yellow star.

To his sides, the Spectres of Second Platoon pushed through the sucking bog, seeking the biological Cylon known as Cavil. Morgan regarded the drawing made from Sarah Vaillant's description, tucked into a clear plastic sleeve on his forearm. In his mind's eye, Cavil's likeness merged with a memory, an image from his venom-fed desert trance. A dragon feeds on one who does not die but the lines blur friends are enemies, enemies are allies, two come... foe and friend... The prescient memory intruded upon Morgan's consciousness - Cavil and another figure, standing together, backs turned to one another. For the first time, Morgan recognized the female form as Dr. Vaillant.

Morgan stopped, brushing aside a loop of hanging vine with his rifle. He checked his squads, glancing left and right, noting their sharp focus on the hunt. PFC S'Tarren was five meters off Morgan's right flank, ducking under an angled trunk as he crossed one of the low mounds which harbored the trees. The desert-born warrior looked thoroughly disgusted with the encircling swampland. S'Tarren had taken a Cylon round in his shoulder on Pythos, and Morgan recalled Dr. Vaillant's treatment of the wounded nomad. Zàmbata, Morgan thought, and yet Vaillant had cared for our wounded, fought for their lives. He shook his head, glancing once more at S'Tarren before moving onward.

The Spectre platoon continued their search, the mud pulling at their boots as they traversed the wetlands. More than once, Morgan breathed a silent curse at the marsh, and he imagined that such invectives were being sworn throughout his platoon. This section of the terrain surrounding Oasis city would not have been the K'yafki's first choice for the nomads' deployment - Duncan had assigned First Platoon to comb the desert plateau to the city's west - but something about this area had pulled at Morgan's consciousness, and he'd volunteered to search the region.

Morgan passed again from a patch of sunlight, the thick vegetation dragging at his uniform pants, into the gloom beneath the trees. He found a dark pool ahead of him, and as his boot sent the first ripples through the water a black shape appeared, moving sinuously away. Morgan greeted its sudden presence by training his weapon on it, watching warily as the snake vanished into the marsh grasses. Morgan lowered his rifle, still focusing on the pool as it resumed an inky stillness. The water mirrored the leaves overhead, and as he watched the patterns became Cavil's face. He sensed a bitterness in his mouth, a taste-memory of scorpion venom. Water... the water... he is somewhere in the water... Morgan shook off the momentary vision, realizing he'd crouched as he stared into the pool. He rose, settling his rifle sling on his shoulder, and pushed forward.

The Cylon was here, on Oasis, and surrounded by water. Morgan was certain of it. He thought back to his quarters on the Bellerophon and the bleached skull which lay among his few possessions, a dark bullet hole in the center of its forehead. Taken from a Simon model Cylon, it held a special significance for Morgan; it was a trophy from trial-by-combat, and marked the end of his days as Disavowed. Nevertheless, he was certain he could make room for another, if the Spectres could ferret Cavil out of his watery hiding place.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 7:45 pm 
User avatar
Site CyberBiker
Joined: Sat Jun 24, 2006 10:51 am
Posts: 4439
Location: The Grid
Offline
The search for Cavil continues...
Day 276 1533 Hours


--------------------------------------------------------------

Oasis

Major Duncan walked slowly and silently in the Oasian forest. There were two others searching as he was, going in widening circles around the site where Cavil had landed in the Heavy Raider.

Duncan had already spoken to Dan Storm; the MarDet commander from the Taurus had already extensively combed the area looking for any trace of the HR and the 0005 cylons now controlled by Cavil. Duncan didn't have much hope he would find anything, not after Dan had looked. Still, he and his two Spectres were nomads, used to tracking sand over stone. If there was any chance that something could be found, they would find it.

At any rate, Duncan thought wearily, it's better than looking at face after face back in camp.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Taurus - Intelligence Section

Lt. Jon Masterson plopped down in his office chair and looked around his desk. It had been a long day for the Chief of Intel for the Taurus. Most of his day had spent on Perseus catching up Capt. Goodland and their Intel team on what happened.

This is a total frak up, thought Masterson. I know we all hope the Cylons never make it here, but it's been a day and a half since the biological Cylons were found. He's more than likely gotten away or killed himself.

A cold shiver ran down Jon's spine. He knew what the Cylons would do if they found this place. He could see the attack fleet showing up and laying waste to the town and the outlying farms and settlements of Oasis.

After a few moments, he looked at a monitor that was in split-screen mode. It showed the the detainees in the newly-constructed 'High-Security Risk' holding section. As he looked at the Three model and then glance over at the feed from Carolyn Warren's cell, a thought entered his head.

They have that captured bitch on Libra. Maybe it is time to bring her over here? I'd like my chance to interrogate her...maybe even try a few things Major Dedrick may not have thought of...or was willing to do.

------------------------------------------

Oasis
Lt. Timothy McCue - Archangel Five


Lieutenant McCue's Viper roared over the surface of Oasis, maintaining a straight line flight path and a constant altitude. McCue checked his gauges, taking note of his fuel consumption rate and making a minor adjustment to the fightercraft's control surfaces. Atmospheric flight was a fuel guzzling operation for a Viper, made primarily for operation in the frictionless vacuum of space. McCue wanted to squeeze as much flight time out of his fuel load as possible.

It meant he could cover that much more ground, toaster hunting.

Affixed to the weapons hardpoint on the lower surface of the fighter, between the retracted landing skids, was a slender torpedo-shaped device. On loan from Scorpion Mining 742, and modified to be carried by the Viper, it was an aerial magnetometer. With it, McCue was making quarter-mile wide sweeps over the zone where the heavy raider had been sighted, augmenting the ground search carried out by troops below.

Reaching the edge of his assigned sector, Lt. McCue popped the Viper into an upward arc, then rolled her over to come back down in line with his next search path. He watched the DRADIS readout, now receiving its signal from the magnetometer. Gimme a blip, he thought. C'mon, gimme a blip.

It had been just over three weeks since Dusty had died, and McCue had been grounded from combat duty after the death of his wingman. He'd begged Dr. DeValera to clear him for this survey mission, and the Libra physician had finally acquiesced. Now, while part of him grated at the rigid flight plan, another part thirsted for a hit on the magnetometer, a sign of 0005 Cylons or the Heavy Raider.

I'll light 'em up, McCue thought. Get some revenge, for you, Dusty. Just for you.

------------------------------------------

Oasis
Raptor 234
Overflying Oasis City


"And that's a negative reading as well," Lieutenant Wilcox said as she checked the readings on her scope for perhaps the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. She turned slightly and glanced at the pilot, Captain Winston Michaels, as he held out a thumbs up to let her know he had heard her. She turned back to the scope and continued to look for signs of cylons.

As Michaels banked the raptor to the west and towards the farms on the outskirts of the cit something caught his eye. "Deanna, make a sweep to our eleven o'clock. There's something out in that field about twelve hundred meters from us, near that farmhouse."

It took less than five seconds for Wilcox to readjust the receiver and a mere heartbeat for her reply. "Target!" she exclaimed. "Metallurgic readings indicate it is consistent with an older model centurion. Should I call it in?"

Already turning the small craft back towards the anomaly Michaels armed a set of cannons for use in case they were needed. "Negative, let's make a positive ID before we bring in the cavalry."

Michaels dropped the raptor to about fifty feet off the deck and barreled towards the lone standing figure. His finger lightly caressed the trigger on his flight stick, ready to let loose a burst of armor piercing slugs at the first sign of trouble. He slowed the Raptor's advance as he neared.

"What the… frak, " Wilcox muttered as she watched the monitor from the gun camera. "It's not moving but I swear I'm getting readings of metal used in centurion construction."

Michaels smirked a bit. As he closed to within three hundred meters of the figure he throttled back even more until he was almost at a hover. The swirling dust seemed to settle almost immediately. Can this be what I think it is? he thought.

"Positive ID!" Wilcox yelled. "I can see the frakker's head in the camera! Now do we call?" She was rewarded by a low chuckle in her headset.

"I don't think that's going to be necessary," Michaels finally answered.


A small rodent looked up from its burrow in the field to see a huge metallic bird floating above the ground, facing the evil demon that had appeared a few nights prior. Perhaps the bird was going to take this abomination away for its meal. After a few more seconds the great winged beast slowly rose and flew off, back towards the strange mountains the bipeds had built.

It looked back towards the demon and slowly sank back into the safety of its home. The demon had scared off the great bird. It was something to be feared.


Inside the raptor Michaels continued to laugh softly, shaking his head.

Joining him in his laughter Wilcox could barely keep her composure. "If I didn't see it I would never have believed it." She looked at a screenshot from the gun camera. "A godsdamned scarecrow. Someone put the head of a centurion on a scarecrow…"

---------------------------------

Oasis City

Patrolman Tommy Michaud glanced at the drawing in his hand, then scanned the faces of the people entering the sports arena. In spite of the upheaval outside the arena, the Pyramid games went on. I wish the boss was competing, Michaud thought morosely. At least then there'd be something good to watch.

He stepped past the queue slowly snaking through the portal into the arena, thinking that he might have missed someone--or maybe the older man he'd caught a glimpse of had deliberately sneaked past him. Scanning up and down the line, he let his eyes rest only briefly on the man he'd spotted. A brief look was all it took, though. This older man was no match for the face on the paper he held.

With an inner sigh, Michaud again made his way back outside. Lady with a blue shirt... guy wearing a black hat... screaming kid. Already saw them... The radio on his belt crackled, and he listened a moment, but it was just a report of a minor fender-bender on 7th Street.

C'mon, you frakker. Show up so we can be done with this search. I'm tired of looking at old guys. His gaze swept appreciatively over a pretty young woman. That's more like it!

---------------------------------


Somewhere on the planet...

Well, they are certainly acting rattled and in an uproar...that's good. A little chaos is good to keep them distracted, Justin 'Cavil' Cooper thought to himself from inside the safety of the hidden Heavy Raider.

The Cylon had been listening to the planetary broadcasts and transmissions...be it Oasian or Colonial. He found the reaction of his and Sarah's arrival interesting, but expected with her capture.

"If she didn't hold all the answers to the questions, we could have just boxed the little broken bitch and gathered the fleet for the attack." Cooper Cavil said aloud. "Then again...the majority of the human fleet would have gotten away."

The One did know that there was some positives about all of this. The attack fleet would have never know the Colonials has split the fleet. Destroying anything in orbit or on the ground would have been great, but a majority of the fleet would have gotten away.

Cooper Cavil closed his eyes and pictured the city, Camp Blue Sky and the outlying areas. In his mind, he walked the street of Oasis City...thanks to the data the old 0005s had given him. I have to get the Admiral to bring in the rest of the fleet...something has to happen...

Suddenly, the Cylon opened his eyes and sucked in a breath, "Oh! I think that will work. Yes, it should force Admiral Rodrigues and his weak partner of a Colonial President to act to save this lonely outpost."

An evil smile came across the face of Cooper Cavil as he continued to talk to no one, "Yes, I have a plan...one that will finally rid us of this little group of runway human trash."

    Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Apr 02, 2011 7:56 pm 
User avatar
Site CyberBiker
Joined: Sat Jun 24, 2006 10:51 am
Posts: 4439
Location: The Grid
Offline
[With GoldWolf]

Destroyer Escort Bellerophon
Oasis orbit
Day 276 1930 Hours



Duncan stepped tiredly out of the Raptor, following three of his Spectres he'd accompanied back to their home ship. They, like he, had been on duty too long. Knowing that Major Duncan hadn't gotten any sleep the night before, Colonel Riley had ordered Duncan to take eight hours off-duty, off-planet, to get some sleep. He knows if I stayed down there, I wouldn't sleep, Scott thought wryly. Not that I'll be able to sleep much here... He'd taken advantage of the opportunity, though, to bring three of his troops up for some much needed R&R.

He shook his head to himself as he waved 'thanks' to the pilot of the Raptor and headed off the deck. Never thought that leaving Oasis would be R&R. He rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger, heading first for the Spectre common area to check on any of his Spectres who might be there.

He never made it as far as the common area, though. He was halfway down the passage when Corporal S'Wynen turned into it; and seeing her commander, she hastened to intercept him. "Kyafk'i," S'Wynen said respectfully.

"Shàkiri," Duncan replied, recognizing the urgency in S'Wynen's manner.

"Sir," S'Wynen said, "The Shaho is here, I let him into Dr. Vaillant's office." She hesitated. "Zàmbata or not, Dr. Vaillant has saved our clan members. I don't know what the Shaho is looking for, but I don't think he will find anything incriminating."

The Major nodded. "You did the right thing," he told her calmly. "Thanks for letting me know."

He headed in the direction of the sickbay, more for the companionship of his friend than to check up on what he was doing... And maybe I can get something for this headache while I'm there.

In Dr. Vaillant's office, Major David Dedrick searched through desk drawers and storage cabinets with the help of a Specialist he'd brought along from the Libra. The hatchway door stood open as the search progressed, and Dr. Franklin Boatwright - the Bellerophon's CMO - hovered about, nervously glancing inside from time to time.

Duncan stepped into sickbay, immediately seeing Boatwright's discomfiture as the doctor stood indecisively outside Vaillant's office door. "Doctor," he greeted the CMO. "Do you have something for a headache?"

Relieved to be doing something, the doctor replied, "Yes, Major, come with me." He glanced into Vaillant's office as they walked past.

As Boatwright handed Duncan two tablets, the Major said, "I'll keep an eye on things here, Doc. You don't need to hang around." He swallowed the tablets dry.

The physician focused on Scott for the first time. "You need to get some sleep, Major," he said, the words nearly an order.

"Yes," Duncan replied wryly, "my superior officer has told me the same thing. I'm sure Major Dedrick won't be much longer."

Boatwright glared at Duncan a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Major," he said, and left, but not without a backward glance.

Scott stepped into Vaillant's office, saying, "Evening, David."

Dedrick met Duncan by the entryway to the office. He acknowledged him with a nod, then cleared his throat. The MILINT specialist looked up at the sound. "I'll be just outside, with the Major," Dedrick stated. "Carry on."

As the specialist went back to searching Vaillant's office, Dedrick stepped out into the sickbay, Duncan following. He regarded the Bellerophon's MarDet commander critically. "You look like hell, Scott. Riley send you up here to guard your rack?"

"Gee, thanks, David," Duncan replied with irony. "Yeah, I'll go guard my rack in a little while." He studied Dedrick in return, and said, "You don't look all that great yourself, David." He glanced towards Vaillant's office, then back at his friend. He had an idea what was putting the lines of stress into Dedrick's face, and he wagered it wasn't just the individual cylon whose office was being searched. Frakkin' toasters... "How are you holding up?" he questioned quietly.

David drew in a long breath, then let it out as a protracted sigh. "Well enough, I suppose," he answered, frowning in thought. "Not sure if you heard about the side trip I took aboard Chiron, but it looks like we've found the trail markers leading to Earth."

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, shaking his head. “No, I hadn’t heard… that’s good news. Even us nomads need a star to guide us. Now if we could just shake these kai’wàten bulletheads, our lives would be a lot easier.”

David nodded. "I really thought we had lost them after Pythos. Nuking the tomb... the series of jumps it took to get here... I argued with the Admiral that they wouldn't be able to trace us." He looked at the wall, at the nameplate beside the door. "Bad luck, Sarah catching that bullet," his voice trailed off, "bad luck for a lot of people."

Scott shrugged. “Ra’iten a’à jin k'ai,” he replied, his gaze intent on David. “Aten’s will is beyond our understanding. I’m sure the Admiral didn’t think the cylons could trace us, either.” He recalled words he’d spoken just a short time ago, to another conflicted Scorpian. "You do what you think right as each moment comes, and you move on. Aten expects no more of us, and neither should we.”

"Ra’iten," David responded. "That won't make the Oasians any less dead." He shook his head in apparent self-disgust and gave another sigh. "I have to face it, Scott. I filled my head with legends and prophecies and got caught up in the search for Earth, putting it ahead of everything, even the safety of this colony. I led the Cylons here, sacrificed their lives on the altar of my own arrogance." David paused for a heartbeat, but before Scott could answer he began again. "We'd better lose them before we get to Earth," he scoffed, "or the toasters are gonna vote me most valuable player."

Scott looked at David without speaking for a moment. Finally, he asked with curiosity, “Aren’t you forgetting the fact that our superiors were the ones who weighed the risks and benefits and made the final decision? Are you taking responsibility for the random act that sent a bullet Sarah’s way?” His words were without censure, even and thoughtful. He fell silent, his gaze on David’s face, then questioned quietly, “How does it help, to take all the blame on yourself?”

"You almost make me sound innocent," David responded. He knit his brow, thinking in silence. When he spoke again it was in slow, measured words. "Does it help? No, I suppose not. Still, when the dust settles after the rockslide, I cannot deny that I dislodged the first pebble." David turned a questioning gaze upon his friend. "Or am I wrong? Am I just a pawn in a bigger game, a cog in the grinding machine of destiny? Can I just walk away and say, 'Oh, well, not my fault.' Frak! I don't know if I can do that, Scott."

Scott sighed. “We all carry blame for things done… and not done… and sometimes it’s just, and sometimes it’s not.” He looked off into the distance a moment, and said softly, “I know I carry blame for things far in the past, things over which I really had no control… but still, the blame sits in my mind.” His eyes sharpened on his friend, and he said, “You need to find a balance, a middle ground, and not let self-blame and regret prevent you from making necessary and hard decisions in the future.” He put his hand on David’s shoulder, gripping it tightly a moment. “Find the balance, shàkiri.”

"Find the balance..." David echoed Scott's words, his face somber. Perhaps, he thought, but it will be no easy task. Impossible, perhaps, if Sarah's predictions come true. He gave his friend a wry grin, then narrowed his gaze. "Off to your quarters then," he said, laughing quietly. "Balance all that hard work with a bit of sleep."

Scott snorted. “If I balanced work with sleep, I’d be in my bunk for the next eighty years!”


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Apr 04, 2011 3:19 am 
User avatar
Site Headhunter
Joined: Wed Oct 18, 2006 10:43 am
Posts: 6174
Offline
Battlestar Libra - Presidential Suite
Day 276
2046


Dr. Robert Dunnavan was ushered into the suite that housed President Meyers while he stayed on Libra. The meeting was quickly called to discuss the results of the nuclear weapons test and how the first weapons would be ready in just a few days.

"Mr. President, good to see you again." Robert said with a smile and extended hand.

Meyers returned the handshake, but stayed rather business-like, "Welcome back Doctor and have a seat. I read your report and found it very satisfactory. A lot of the parts you had drawn up were in process before you left, correct?"

Dunnavan sat down, "Yes and with what they have done on Titan and Taurus, we should have working weapons the day after tomorrow. All in all, the test was a smashing success."

Andy shook his head in agreement, "Good to hear. Before we go any further with this report, I need to ask you about something, Doctor."

"Go right ahead, Mr. President."

Meyers took a deep breath and opened a file on his desk, "I want to ask you about someone...or something. Her name is Carolyn Warren, the pregnant Cylon being held on Taurus."

Robert took a deep breath and suddenly became uncomfortable, "I see. It was bound to come out sooner or later. With all that has happened recently, I figured this discussion would occur. What do you want to know?"

"Why the hell did you hold back on me, Bob?" Meyers asked pointedly. "Why didn't you tell me about her?"

"The subject was in holding and with child long before you became President, Andy." the Doctor said flatly. "Any Cylons in holding were and still are the biggest secrets we have. I swore an oath not to disclose that information to anyone. When you brought me on as the head of Sciences, I had to keep that promise...no matter how much I may have wanted to tell you. It was and I feel still is the best course of action to keep Warren and the others a secret."

"A pregnant Cylon, Robert...when were you going to tell me?" Andy asked. "You're part of the government..."

"If I may be so bold, so is the Admiral, Mr. President." Dr. Dunnavan narrowed his gaze at the President, "Do you need to know everything the Admiral knows? There are some things that are better off being out of the loop on. Trust me, Ms. Warren is one of them and there are times I wish I never knew about her."

Meyers paused to look at the Doctor, "Still, I'm now in the loop and I've had a full intelligence briefing on her and every other Cylon in the fleet. Just from this point forward I want to be in the loop about her."

"I will discuss with the Admiral and I will..."

Meyers calmly, but firmly cut Dunnavan off, "I am the elected President of this fleet. As such you will keep in informed about Ms. Warren and the other Cylons. Are we clear on that? Between you and me, I'm tempted to order the Admiral to airlock the thing and her abomination."

"Yes sir." Dunnavan paused, "Permission to speak freely, Mr. President?"

"Go ahead."

"If you are so interested in knowing everything about Ms. Warren, may I suggest you close your file folders and do one thing."

"That is?"

"Why don't you go have a face to face meeting with her?" the Doctor said bluntly. "Before you airlock her as you put it? Out of all of the Cylons, she has been helpful. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe not all Cylons are anti-human?"

Roberts' last sentence caused Andy to mentally take a step back from his anger. Like Kalrk...he has a point. "I see...and I will take that under advisement as I review her situation."

"One last thing, Mr. President. If you are unhappy because I kept information secret, I could always tender my resignation." Dunnavan said. "If you do not feel that we can work together, there are other senior scientists throughout the fleet that can step up and take my place."

"There will be no need for that Robert." Andy said. "I'm sorry if I seemed blunt. It's just thing entire situation blindsided me."

"As well as your question blindsided me, Mr. President." Dr. Dunnavan said with a hint of coldness. "Now, shall I continue on with my report about the tests and weapons development, Mr. President?"

"Yes, please do, Doctor." And what do I feel I just pushed you too far, Robert?, Meyers thought to himself.

_________________
"Times change...and so must I." - The Doctor, 'Time of the Doctor'


Last edited by jdctexas on Thu Apr 21, 2011 5:01 am, edited 1 time in total.

Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Apr 04, 2011 4:09 pm 
User avatar
Site CyberBiker
Joined: Sat Jun 24, 2006 10:51 am
Posts: 4439
Location: The Grid
Offline
Agricultural Research Station Harvest Moon
Oasis orbit
Day 276, Evening



Kalrk sat in his private office. The lights were off, and only the small noises of the ship penetrated the utter blackness of the room. He had been here for hours, practically since his return from the Libra. His instructions to his assistant, Rebekah Wayton, had been clear and simple: Cancel all appointments; hold all calls. He had not offered any explanation, and she had wisely not requested one. He was alone with his thoughts.

Kalrk, entrepreneur extraordinaire, founder and president of K Industries.

Hero of the fleet. Cylon expert. Discoverer and owner by right of salvage of the Harvest Moon. Member of the Quorum of Twelve.

Captain Kalrk. Benefactor to the Order of the Dragon.

Kalrk the Traitor. Kalrk the Cylon.

Cylon. The word echoed in Kalrk's mind. That label had controlled his existence since the devastation of the Colonies, since Day Zero. Only in the time before the attacks had he been free of it. Then he had been the 'K' of K Industries, an electronic engineering prodigy, the inventor of a miniaturized music player, and a favorite of the Colonial media. Thinking back, he reconsidered, perhaps he had not been free of the label even then, for then he had been a rebel among his brothers and sisters. Hated by One, and distrusted by the others, he had stood against The Plan without truly knowing that it existed or its full extent. And so he had become Kalrk the Traitor, and joined the humans as a target for extinction on Day Zero.

Yet he had survived. Not only survived, but managed to join up with a few human remnants and defend them. He had been a hero and a savior, but eventually his true nature became known to the Admiral and a few others. Once again he had become Kalrk the Traitor, though he was a loyal defender of the Fleet... but it did not matter, because he was a Cylon, and the Cylons had attempted genocide against the humans. The Admiral had not consigned him to the brig, yet he had imprisoned him nonetheless, never leaving him without a military chaperone. Rodrigues had allowed this, not because he trusted Kalrk, but because Kalrk was more valuable as a free operator.

Just 24 hours earlier he had stood before the President while the Admiral defended his decision to keep Kalrk and Sarah Vaillant's identities classified. When it became clear that Rodrigues could not hold that ground, Kalrk had stepped forward and voluntarily admitted his true nature. He had not expected to leave that room - if Vice President Liala didn't put a bullet in him, he had presumed President Meyers would have him arrested.

Instead, he had walked away, free for the moment. The security of his secret remained, but it was far more tenuous now. In the hands of the military it had been a tool, a tool that was worth more kept secret. For the politicians, though, it was a sword hanging overhead, a threat to their sovereign existence. They would hold his true nature in silence only as long as it benefitted them; the moment it became expedient to give him up, they would. It was human nature, self-preservation in its rawest form. He had 'broken even', as the humans would say, his status as a Cylon revealed to the leaders of the government but not to the fleet at large.

Not yet.

In the impenetrable darkness of his private office, Kalrk concentrated on a memory. He closed his eyes, though he did not need to; it was a human habit learned from long association. Around him, in the eyes of his mind, the darkness melted away to become a room filled with consoles and chairs, utilitarian greys and blacks under harsh fluorescent lights overpowered by sunlight reflected through broad windows from a featureless field of snow. On a monitor before him were displayed the concept drawings of an electronic device; beside him a woman stood, her blonde curls bobbing gently as she spoke words of praise to him.

She addressed him by his name, but it was another name then, and she called his designs 'elegant' and 'poetry'. Beyond a door, visible through a pane of glass to him but not to her, John Cavil had glared hatred at him. He had attempted to shrug it off, but for the first time he had felt the tendrils of fear creeping into his soul.

It was the first time, but it would not be the last.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Apr 08, 2011 12:09 pm 
User avatar
Site CyberBiker
Joined: Sat Jun 24, 2006 10:51 am
Posts: 4439
Location: The Grid
Offline
Luxury Liner Catalina
Day 276, Night Shift



[Central, this is D-3. I'm 10-7 at the Outer Buoy.]

Security guard Ray Hofman stepped into the darkened bar as he spoke into the wireless microphone clipped to the shoulder epaulet of his blue uniform shirt. Though the bar was closed, he still stopped here to take a break when he worked the night shift. Before Day Zero, the Outer Buoy Tavern would have been open at this hour and populated by a few passengers too broke to continue at the gaming tables. Then, Ray would have grabbed a cup of coffee at the bar - black, with two sugars - and taken a few minutes to chat with the bartender. The corporation that owned the Catalina liked its security officers to be seen by their customers.

[D-3, Central. Copy that, Ray.]

The voice on the wireless sounded sleepy and bored, and the tinny sound echoed in the stillness of the empty bar. Ray slipped behind the counter, taking a glass from an overhead rack. In the dim light which penetrated from the corridor, his eyes sought the bar gun, a nozzle and hose arrangement that the bartenders used to quickly dispense common liquids. He pressed one of the buttons, selecting it from memory, and filled the glass half full of water. Reaching into a pocket, he withdrew a small plastic bottle, opened it and shook a white pill into his palm. There was no more coffee aboard the ship, though rumor suggested there'd soon be a fresh supply from the planet below. A glass of water and a caffeine pill substituted for a cup of coffee, these days. There was, however, no substitute for the human companionship of the bartender.


Elsewhere in the ship, Colt moved silently through the corridors following his mark, a young girl he'd located earlier in the gardens of the main dome. She drifted through the ship, seemingly without a destination, and though she somehow managed to stay ahead of him, Colt never lost track of her. Each time he thought perhaps he'd lost her, he would hear her voice carrying from a side passageway or catch a glimpse of her slender form at the end of a hall. Colt considered himself an impassive stalker, but his patience was beginning to wear thin.

From somewhere ahead, he heard her lilting voice again. "The old young one... does not know... the fruit his labors bear." Colt paused, listening, then padded quickly down the corridor in pursuit of the sound. As he moved, he flexed his hands in anticipation of the coming encounter. Quickly and quietly, he thought, bring her down and put her out. He reviewed for a moment how far he would have to carry her, back to his room, and he grimaced. She was leading him farther away, and he already did not like the distance. He needed to strike soon, very soon.


In the Outer Buoy Tavern, Ray finished his glass of water and placed it upside down in the sink which was hidden from customers' view below the bar top. He smoothed down his regulation tie and straightened its clip, then cast his eyes once around the empty bar before leaving. He called in a 10-8, back on duty, and got another sleepy acknowledgment from the security office. Then he returned to walking the ship.


Colt was close now; he could smell the scent of the girl lingering in the air. Not a perfume, instead she smelled of green plants and rain, like the dome gardens where he had first sighted her tonight. Her voice still reached his ears, but it now seemed hushed, nearly a whisper. Almost without breaking his stride he pulled his knife from its ankle sheath, hefting it once before switching his grip to hold the weapon backwards, blade against his forearm.


Ray Hofman continued his rounds as he normally did, in silence, listening to the small noises of the ship and his own footfalls as they penetrated the quiet night. Now a voice joined those sounds, feminine and soft, sing-song words he could not make out. The voice he knew, however; it was the sibylline Cassandra, wandering the corridors of the ship. Ray's eyes narrowed a bit, and he slowed his steps as he concentrated on locating the sounds.

Cassandra rounded a corner just as Ray reached it, her barefoot steps so silent that he had not detected them. Ray startled, taking a half-step backwards, even as he focused his gaze upon the girl. She wore a printed dress of some gossamer material, colorful blossoms and butterflies upon an ivory pattern. She smiled warmly, as though she had fully expected to find Ray here, and again it struck the security guard as odd that she did not treat him in the detached, unseeing manner that she took with others.

"My light, my hope," she said softly, taking a few quick steps until she stood immediately before Ray. She took his hand, holding it with both of hers, and pressed it against her cheek for a moment. "The horse, he comes, to bear the flower girl away." Cassandra pressed her lips against Ray's hand, kissing it. For a moment Ray could feel the warmth of her breath on his fingers; as he watched her face her eyes left him to seek somewhere down the empty hall. She dropped his hand and glided away without looking back.

Colt rounded the corner at that moment, knife at the ready. Suddenly finding Ray Hofman before him instead of Cassandra gave him a split-second's pause. In that brief instant, Ray caught sight of movement in the corner of his vision and turned to face Colt. As Ray grasped his baton, Colt had a moment of indecision - sheath the knife and try to explain his actions, or stab the startled guard and continue his chase. He opted for the second.

Ray yanked his baton from his belt sheath as the big man struck with the knife. The were nearly matched in height, though Colt outweighed him by thirty or forty pounds. Colt had been carrying the knife against his forearm, so his first attack was a punch-like forward slash. Ray wore his baton on the opposite hip, and his act of drawing it quickly became an attempt to block the knife strike. The two weapons met and the impact caused Ray to backpedal a step. The tip of Colt's blade sliced into Ray's arm; Ray felt the sting and the warmth of blood, but he did not think the cut had gone deep.

As Ray fell back, he too made a quick decision. He saw no indication that his attacker was armed beyond the knife in his hand. As Colt reversed his grip on the knife and prepared to strike again, Ray followed his momentum and took another step back, passing the baton to his off hand as he did. In one fluid motion, he popped the snap securing his gun in its holster and drew the weapon, leveling it at Colt's chest. Facing a 9mm pistol and a guard who looked like he would have no second thoughts about using it, Colt chose not to die this night. The knife clattered to the floor.

"Clasp your hands behind your head, and get down on your knees!" Ray ordered. "Do it, now!" Ray cuffed him, struggling a bit as blood from his wound made the metal handcuffs slick. Colt did not resist, at least not much. He scowled, already thinking of how he was going to explain this to Luther, wincing at the idea that he'd have to ask his boss to spring him from Catalina's security.

Ray stepped back from Colt once again, leaving him cuffed and kneeling on the floor. His shoulders sagged and he breathed a sigh of relief, then keyed his wireless microphone to call in the incident and the arrest. By the time that he thought to look around for Cassandra, she was nowhere to be seen. Even the sound of her voice had vanished from the corridor.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Apr 16, 2011 2:48 am 
User avatar
Site Raider
Joined: Wed May 17, 2006 11:54 am
Posts: 2229
Location: Southern Germany
Offline
Destroyer Escort Bellerophon
D276
2313 CUT


Capt. Eric Mejia made his way to Col. Cole's quarters through the Belles empty hallways. He was brimming with questions for Richard, but he wasn't sure what mood the CO would be in. The guy should be getting some rest...I can wait to find out how things went if he'll just get some rest.

At the knock on his hatch, Cole looked up from the report he had tried to read and called his visitor to enter. When he saw Capt. Mejia enter his quarters, Cole greeted his XO with a smile.

"Eric, what can I do for you?" he asked, rising from his place on his couch and moving towards a small cabinet that held glasses and a carafe of cooled water. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'll take some water." Mejia said as he placed a report on Cole's desk . "Late reports from the planet. Still no sign of this 'Cavil' guy nor any of his older metallic friends. It's like they faded away. Still, the Admiral had the report sent on a priority flash to all COs."

Cole nodded, grabbing two of the glasses and the carafe and taking them back towards his desk. "Thanks for bringing it over", Cole said while he filled one of the glasses and put it down in front of his XO, "even though it's not the news I wanted to hear. That Cylon is probably the most dangerous of the whole bunch..." With a sigh, the young Colonel then sat down himself and poured himself a glass of water before he looked up at Meja again.

"I guess a talk between the two of us about this...situation...is long overdue Eric. You must think I'm either an idiot or," Cole shrugged, "or someone who willingly helped a cylon."

"I would say neither...but I do have one questions and it's one that some of the crew has been asking." Eric paused for a moment, "Why?"

Cole couldn't help but smile at hearing his XOs question. "Why would a man like me keep a secret like that for a woman, Eric? I love Sarah, I love her more than I can really put into words. But nothing would have stopped me from shooting her myself, if she had ever, and even if it was only once, posed a threat to my ship or my crew." The young Colonel took a deep breath before he continued speaking. "I think that her decision to go against anything in her...programming...that told her to kill us all, that decision was what really opened my eyes to the biological cylons. They act as nothing more than the old 0005s down on Oasis, they're programmed, sent away and fulfill their programming. But they have potential, Eric...they can go against their instincts, against that deeply ingrained hostility towards us...and some of them already have done so!"

Eric shook his head, "I can understand that. It's just been...well, the murmurs of the crew when they found out about her. The Spectres, although they are surprised, seem to be...okay with things. The general crew still seems...in shock."

"Don't let the Spectres stoic facade fool you, they're just as shocked. I just hope that everyone gets over that shock without any violence...that would be the last thing we need on this ship right now!"

"I think when you walked back on the ship and not in handcuffs, that helped quiet a majority of the folks down. Still, you may get some questioning or cold looks." Eric paused, "I know you still have the loyalty of the crew, but just don't be surprised."

Cole took a sip of his water. "Good to hear Eric...but what about the loyalty of my officers? What about your loyalty?"

"You have mine and the officers as well." Eric now took a sip of water and looked back at Richard, "Maybe it's something that you can address to the crew at some point? Maybe that will lessen some of the concerns that some of the crew has?"

"I already thought about that, but thanks. Guess I'll have to hold a little speech soon...apart from that, is there anything else we should talk about? How was your trip down to the surface, met anyone interesting?"

Mejia smiled, "Ran into a nurse I hadn't seen who is over on Taurus while I was on the planet. About 5'7, red head...looked good dressed as a civvie. I need to keep in contact with her..."

Cole grinned, hearing his XO talk. "I suppose the next thing will be my Raptors going on unscheduled runs over to the 'Bull', hmm? Enjoy it, Eric...you deserve it! And if it turns out to be something serious, we could always use another nurse aboard. From what Sarah told me about what's going on in Lifestation, they could probably use a full dozen nurses..."

_________________
Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun Apr 17, 2011 12:03 am 
User avatar
Site Legal Eagle
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:49 pm
Posts: 3197
Location: Hurricane alley
Offline
Melinda Dobson's kitchen
Oasis
Day 276, close to midnight

Grover Baccus slumped forward, his beefy arms resting on the scarred wood of the old dining table, hands clasped tightly, as in prayer. He looked... tired. Haunted. And scared.

"This changes everything, Mel. If the skinjobs have found us..." he closed his eyes, remembering the horror of those first few hours after the attack, just nine months ago. "You have no idea what it's like. We can't stay here, Mel!" he pleaded, again.

Melinda pushed back from her chair and began to pace. "I... can't go, Grov. Been here all my life; this is my home! It's... it's... My mom's buried here, and Da... My business, my friends, everything!" She kneeled next to him and placed her own rugged hand atop his clasped ones. "The fleet's enemies, the 'skinjobs' as you call 'em, they have no beef with us; we've done nothing to them. We've lived peacefully here for more'n sixty years! You can stay, you know you can. Things are... rough... these days, but when the fleet's gone... things'll get back to normal..."

Back to normal...

He looked at her, then, this woman who, in a matter of a few days, had somehow found a way into his heart. This wonderful woman who accepted him as he was, who didn't want to change him, or take advantage of him... who didn't laugh at or ridicule him behind his back, as he knew some members of the Quorum, and even members of President Meyer's cabinet, did. This sweet, capable woman, who just this morning had found her truck smeared with cow dung, spelling words like "Traitor" and "Colonial Whore"...

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I wish you were right, hon. But I'm afraid things will only get worse..."

_________________
404 Error - File Not Found


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Apr 18, 2011 10:12 pm 
User avatar
Site Boss
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:34 pm
Posts: 2769
Location: Eastern United States
Offline
Battlestar Libra
Flight Deck
Day 276
2355 hrs CUT


The hatch to the raptor opened even as it was still being towed to its assigned area along the flight line. As it opened the unmistakable figure of Commander Herald stood, framed in the lights of the ECO's console. He waited until the tug stopped and then stepped out onto the wing. A young maintenance tech approached the commander and saluted.

"Welcome aboard sir, Admiral Rodrigues is on his way."

Herald returned the salute. "Thank you, Specialist." He looked around at all of the activity on the flight deck. "Anything happening I need to know about?"

The specialist shook his head. "No sir, other than trying to find that frakking toaster," immediately realizing his lost decorum he stiffened. "Sorry sir, it's been a long day."

Herald grinned. "Forgotten, think nothing of it." He looked towards the hatchway and saw Admiral Rodrigues enter, his marine escort in tow. "Thanks Specialist."

The enlisted man snapped to attention and saluted. "Aye sir," he said and trotted off.

Herald waited for Rodrigues to walk over to him. When the admiral was close enough Herald saluted, "Reporting as ordered sir."

Rodrigues opted to extend his hand instead of returning the salute. "Thanks for coming over on such short notice."

Herald shook the offered hand warmly. "Not a problem sir, I was just coming off watch anyway."

Nodding, Rodrigues motioned to the hatchway. "Why don't we take a walk."

Five minutes later the two were seated in a corner of the mess hall.

"So how did the president take it?" Herald asked, bringing a steaming cup of coffee to his lips. The steam swirled around his nostrils, rewarding his senses with the aroma of a full bodied blend of beans from Oasis. He took a sip and nodded with satisfaction. "I need to get your mess cook's recipe."

Rodrigues smiled. "I'll make sure to send some over on the next shuttle," his features became more serious. "It wasn't pretty Bren. The President wouldn't leave it alone, even when I think he began to realize there was a reason for him being kept out of the loop."

Herald shook his head slowly. He set the cup he was holding down on the table. "This fraks with things a bit. Pretty soon we'll have every person in this fleet taking a stick to their neighbor because they think he or she is a toaster."

Rodrigues nodded. "And every military member in this fleet will become a target."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

"What can we do? Regardless of the situation I can't bring myself to arresting the president for making a bad choice. And there's no way I'm going to leave the civilians without protection."

"Well Ben," Herald said. "This is definitely is a game changer."

"Yeah, one that's going to get someone killed."

_________________
Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 8:14 pm 
Site Gunslinger
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:50 pm
Posts: 8185
Location: The Dark Side
Offline
Nimbus
Day 276, Midnight

Antonia Seda looked around the large room, smiling to herself. An hour earlier the room, formerly a storage area in the bowels of the ship, had been packed with people. Now, it was just her and a two-man cleanup crew, the men mopping the floors.

The bright lights over the fight ring had been turned off. The raised platform with its enclosing ropes looked almost like an altar to Toni, shadows in the square gloom hinting at sacrificed spirits. The folding chairs had been folded up and stored, but the marks from the chair legs were still visible on the deck around the ring, black scuffs and scratches like the detritus of odd metal animals. In spite of the ship’s efficient air filtration system, the smell of stale beer and sweat drifted like fog. The slosh—swish—slosh of the men mopping was almost musical.

Things had gone well for Toni in the past months. What she and Tom Templeton had started shortly after Day Zero as a tactic against boredom had become a profitable business. It had been just a weekly amateur fight, until Tommy had wanted to legitimize it, turn it legal. Toni had found the idea intriguing, although impractical—and then Tom had made the mistake of professing his love for her.

Toni smiled sardonically to herself at the memory. True, he had been a fine physical specimen, but love? Love was just another form of manipulation, one that Toni wanted no part of--unless it was a tool that she used to manipulate someone else. A convenient, nicely timed cylon attack had taken care of any difficulties that Tommy and his 'love' might have presented… and now she had a much better business relationship here on the Nimbus. This was a diversified business, of which the fights were only a part.

The men finished their cleaning and put the mops and buckets away. One of them came to her and said, “All done here, Ms. Seda.”

“Thanks, Larry,” she said. “I’ll see you next week.”

He nodded; a small, grimy, obsequious man, licking his lips nervously.

“Don’t worry,” Toni assured him. “I’ve already made arrangements with Jules. He’ll have what you need.”

“Thanks very much, ma’am,” Larry practically bowed, his relief clear, and he scuttled from the room.

The vices of humans are many and varied, Toni thought smugly. And open to profit, if you know how to feed them.

_________________
Director of National Intelligence James R. Clapper, about budget cuts for the US’s intelligence agencies: "We're not going to do more with less and all these other clichés. . . . We will just simply have less capability."


Top
 Profile  
 

Display posts from previous:  Sort by  

Post new topic This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 147 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 10  Next

All times are UTC - 5 hours


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 5 guests


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
cron