It is currently Tue Sep 26, 2017 11:26 am

All times are UTC - 5 hours




Post new topic This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 169 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 12  Next


 Post subject: Episode 1: From The Ashes
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 10:57 am 
User avatar
Site Boss
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:34 pm
Posts: 2766
Location: Eastern United States
Offline
“Radiological alarm! We’ve got another incoming nuke Commander!”, the Officer of the Deck exclaimed excitedly.

The acrid smell of burning electrical components and plastic made Commander Benito Rodrigues’ eyes water. Smoke hung in the air, thick and menacing. Rodrigues turned from the dradis console and raised the phone to his ear. He stayed outwardly calm however inside he was screaming.

“Point defense weapons, track incoming targets. Fire when you have a solution.” Rodrigues turned to the Officer of the Deck. “Mister Hastings what’s our status?”

Hastings, in a flurry of movement, checked numerous readouts and answered quickly. “Sir, we’ve lost our FTL drives. Missile batteries are starting to come back online, estimated five minutes. We’ve almost purged the virus from the navcom systems. Seems the information we got from Picon Fleet Headquarters on our way here was accurate.”

Rodrigues listened intently while looking over at the marine standing guard by the CIC doors. This kid looks like he could be no older than seventeen. Hell of a way to spend his youth. He was shocked back to reality as Hastings yelled.

“Point defense isn’t going to get this one! Incoming nuke!”

“All hands brace for impact!” Rodrigues grabbed the table as alarms sounded. The ship shook violently, throwing everyone in the CIC around. Lights flickered and glass panels broke. Electrical components failed from energy overload, sending showers of sparks in all directions.

Rodrigues picked himself up from the floor and surveyed the damage. Fortunately it was minor. “Damage report Mister Hastings.”

Hastings was in the process of picking up his chair and sitting back in front of his readouts. “Structural damage to engine nacelles three and four. Explosive decompression in causeway eleven, defense batteries fourteen through twenty seven offline.”

Rodrigues shook his head almost imperceptibly. “So what’s the bad news,” he said dryly. He turned to the communications officer. “Get me the Delphinus.”


“We’re hurting Ben. We’ve taken three nukes amidships. Our flight pods are heavily damaged and our catapults are out of commission. This isn’t the vacation I had hoped for.” Commander Wendy Krill replied. The commander of the Delphinus watched silently as the medics carried the body of her XO out of the CIC. He had been killed when a support beam collapsed in the CIC after the last missile impact. “Rainey’s dead and I have reports of about 45 percent casualties.”

Rodrigues tightened his grip on the phone. “Get out of here Wendy. We’ll cover your withdrawal.”


The engagement was one of legends. At the onset of the attacks the colonies had been caught with their proverbial pants down. The cylon war machine had appeared suddenly over the colonies and let loose a bombardment of such intensity it would be a wonder if anyone lived.

The Colonial Fleet was mostly out of the space docks and on patrol within the system save for a few vessels in the Scorpion Shipyards,

The first engagements between Cylon Baseships and the Colonial Battlestars were an utter slaughter. Apparently the cylons had developed a new type of weapon which allowed them to shut down the navigation and networked components of Colonial vessels. Lessons were learned quickly in the first hours of the second Cylon war. Unfortunately those lessons were too late for ninety nine percent of the colonial fleet.

Battlestar Group (BSG) 26 was enroute to the outer reaches of the system to assume patrol duties when the attacks started. Preliminary reports were sketchy but from what Rodrigues was able to best determine the cylons had gained total surprise.

Rodrigues ordered the battle group to return to the inner system and defend the colonies. As preparations were being made they received orders from Picon Fleet HQ to intercept a new battle fleet entering the sector.

On the way to the intercept point they received word of the weapon used by the cylons. It didn’t take too long for the people in technical to determine it was a virus, which affected the network. They had informed Rodrigues they could slow down the spread but not completely halt it in the time they were allotted. BSG 26 jumped into an area of space devoid of any civilian traffic and waited for the cylons to arrive.

And arrive they did. Five Baseships complete with fighter complement. Fortunately surprise was on Rodrigues’ side and as the Cylons jumped in a salvo of nuclear missiles was already flying. One baseship was caught completely off guard and was destroyed within moments. Another was heavily damaged and fell back.

Then the real fireworks started. The Battlestars Libra, Delphinus, and Solstice moved in to close combat, launching full complements of Vipers. The tech people had tried desperately to fix the vipers however they couldn’t get them all. It was going to be a crapshoot as to who lived and who died. They didn’t have the luxury of holding back combat ships when the entire human race was being wiped out.


“Commander!” the XO shouted, “Solstice is going up!”

The Solstice hadn’t gotten its systems prepared quickly enough and at the start of the engagement was rendered inoperable after it was able to launch its complement of Vipers. They lost contact with her right after. One of the baseships began to take a special interest in her and launched salvo after salvo of missiles into her. Her viper screen took as many of the missiles out as possible but they were overwhelmed.

Rodrigues said a silent prayer. Solstice was an older class Battlestar built just after the last cylon war. She was due to be retired in another year. She had a crew of fifteen hundred souls. “XO,” he said calmly to Colonel Vansen. “Get the SAR teams ready. Once this thing’s over I want her boarded. We need to see if there are any survivors.”

A shout of joy erupted from the main KEW weapons station. “Baseship number three is breaking apart sir!”

Hastings checked his readouts and looked up quickly at Rodrigues. “Sir, Delphinus is on fire. She’s loosing hull pressure at a massive rate. There are multiple detonations on her aft engines. The toasters are concentrating on her.”

“Get her on the comm.” Rodrigues spoke as calmly as he could. “Delphinus this is Libra, you were ordered to fall back.”

The reply was short and sweet. “Ben, we’re done for. Eighty Five percent casualties. We’ve lost all but maneuvering thrust. Say a prayer for us.” With that the comm was ended.

Rodrigues raced to Hastings’ station and watched the screen. “Oh my Gods, NO!”


As the Delphinus was hit with several more missiles she began moving towards the nearest baseship. She picked up speed, firing a full salvo of missiles and flak cannons into the area in between. The missiles found their mark, impacting on the central hub of the baseship. The flak cannons sent shells into the oncoming raiders, destroying many of them.

Delphinus never slowed. She continued on through the raiders and plowed straight into the baseship. There was a quick flash of impact then the stars lit up like daytime. Debris flew in all directions and secondary explosions from unexploded munitions bathed the impact area in an eerie light.

Stranded pilots whose ships were knocked offline from the cylon virus watched in horror as the Delphinus made the ultimate sacrifice. Everyone was realizing at that exact moment they were all now fighting for their very survival.


Rodrigues closed his eyes briefly. Commander Krill was as close to family as he had; now she was gone. He looked around the CIC. The smoke, the soot, the exhaustion of his crew. It was their last stand. If they didn’t take out this last enemy capital ship they were all doomed.

“Mr. Hastings, inform the CAG he will have to handle the raiders. We will be concentrating on the surviving enemy baseship.” He turned to the communications officer. “Specialist, contact the Griffyn. Advise them we will be making a run on the last surviving baseship and require their assistance.”

Rodrigues turned then to his XO. “What do we have left XO?”

Vansen regarded his commander with the utmost respect. “Three ships still operational sir, including us. Griffyn and Perseus are both combat capable.”

“Have Perseus hang back in reserve and assist the vipers with fighter suppression. Inform the Griffyn we will send a screen of missiles and nukes into the baseship. She is to follow behind the screen and deliver her payload. Let’s make it happen.”


Last edited by hazend on Fri May 19, 2006 5:27 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject: Pvt Dan Wolfe
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 1:10 pm 
Site Gunslinger
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:50 pm
Posts: 8181
Location: The Dark Side
Offline
Pvt Dan Wolfe

“Close it, close it!” a knuckledragger was yelling, and Pvt Dan Wolfe put his not-inconsiderable weight behind the hatch, helping the two others already pushing on it. It closed with a screeee of tortured metal and he spun the wheel, dogging it sealed.

Dan had turned twenty only a month before, had been on the Libra only two weeks, and had never imagined a reality like the explosions, smoke-filled passageways and constant ear-piercing alarms. He coughed harshly--he hadn’t even been on board long enough to be issued a damage control enviro suit. There had been some for regular sized personnel, but the quartermaster had had to put in a requisition for one to fit Dan’s 6’2”, 225 pound frame.

“You okay?” the knuckledragger asked Dan.

“Yeh,” he replied, easing the weight of the fire bottle strapped to his back. The knuckledragger was a Petty Officer 2nd Class, he noted, seeing the rank on his collar sticking up out of the neck of the bulky firefighting suit. “Where to, sir?” he asked him.

PO2 Lundon Alger gave the hatch a critical look; then, assured it would hold, looked at the brawny Marine who’d been assigned to his Damage Control team just a short time earlier. “What’s your name, jarhead?” he asked him with a grin. Glad they gave me a big one or we might never have gotten that hatch closed!

Taken aback at his smile, Dan replied, “Uh, Wolfe. Private Dan Wolfe, sir.”

He slapped him on the arm. “I’m Al, Wolfe. Good to have you on the team.” He looked around at the two others on the team, knuckledraggers like he was. “You two all right?”

They both nodded. Even with the broadcast of ‘brace for impact’, they’d all been thrown around by the impact of the Cylon ordnance.

“Okay, back to causeway ten,” Al ordered, retreating along the passageway at a trot. Dan took up the rear, musing, Well, the fire bottle isn’t as heavy as a full pack, at least.

At the junction of the passageway and causeway ten, Al tested the handset on the bulkhead, and finding it working, gave a terse damage report. He listened for a moment, then hung up.

“Decompression in eleven, it’s a good thing we got that hatch closed so quick,” he told the others. “Our post is here now, and let’s hope like hell she doesn’t take another one like that…”

Silently, Dan agreed.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 1:43 pm 
User avatar
Site Deer Slayer
Joined: Thu May 04, 2006 9:34 pm
Posts: 668
Offline
Destroyer Griffyn
Battlestar Group 26
- engaging the Cylons

“ Griffyn, the Solstice is down, repeat… the Battlestar Solstice is…” the crackle and silence of the Viper radio said enough.

Colonel Brennan Herald stood in the CIC, in shock at the chaos unfolding before his eyes. “ How are the Libra’s Vipers doing Lt Landry,” he asked. The look on Landry’s face said enough too. Everyone in the CIC was moving about in a fit of craziness. The entire ship seemed to be spinning. “ When Missile Barrages have a firing solution, order them to Salvo Fire,” he said to Johnson.

“ I can only imagine what’s going on behind the porthole shieldings,” Herald thought.

“ Sir, Missile Barrages have a firing solution on the Baseship,” Johnson said. Herald looked at his XO, who was in an obvious state of anxiety. He grabbed the handset and said, “ Fire.”

The explosions occurring all over the Battlegroup were astounding, yet absolutely horrifying. The Solstice, or what was left of it, was adrift with explosions occurring all over its crater-filled skeleton. Libra’s screen of nukes was keeping out most of the Cylon ordinance, but it didn’t stop the damage already done.

The Destroyer got closer and closer to its target, with flak turrets blazing and Vipers swarming on Raiders all around. Suddenly, a volley of 8 missiles barreled towards the Baseship. “ Sir, we have direct hits all over the Baseship,” Braddock said to Herald. Outside, the Baseship’s central axis erupted into flames and debris. The explosions spiraled outwards until the Baseship was engulfed in flame.

The fading blip on the DRADIS screen confirmed the kill, and Herald gave a small smile.

But it wasn’t over yet, there was one more Basestar and squadron upon squadron of Raiders swarming all over. “ Incoming ordinance,” Braddock said in a panicked tone.
The ship lurched and lights flickered as the missile impacted. The missile impacted the bow portion of the Destroyer’s starboard flight pod.

“ Miles, get DC teams to the site, and seal off decks that have been breached,” Herald told his XO.

_________________
Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 2:17 pm 
User avatar
Site Boss
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:34 pm
Posts: 2766
Location: Eastern United States
Offline
Quote:
But it wasn’t over yet, there was one more Basestar and squadron upon squadron of Raiders swarming all over. “ Incoming ordinance,” Braddock said in a panicked tone.
The ship lurched and lights flickered as the missile impacted. The missile impacted the bow portion of the Destroyer’s starboard flight pod.


As the baseship exploded the Libra turned immediately into the path of the one remaining baseship. It had been heavily damaged at the onset of the battle but was still very dangerous.

The Libra took three missiles intended for the Griffin, thus giving Colonel Herald a little breathing room.

Rodrigues spoke into his handset. “Herald this is Rodrigues, we’ll take on the last baseship. Keep our aft covered and help with the raiders. If we don’t take it out on this pass you are free to engage.”

The Libra changed course slightly and came alongside the baseship.

“All hands, this is the commander. Brace for impact. DC teams to the starboard side of the ship. Be prepared for numerous missile hits.” Rodrigues turned to the weapons officer. “All starboard batteries and missile tubes fire on my mark. We’re going to give them a broadside.”

Libra began to pass the baseship and Rodrigues watched the screen intently. As they reached just in front of the flight pods Rodrigues shouted to the weapons officer. “All batteries FIRE!”

The starboard batteries opened up with missile salvos, flack guns, and a small spread of nuclear charges. The effect was instant and devastating. Even while taking a brutal beating the missiles found their mark. The baseship came apart in multiple explosions.

Rodrigues smiled slightly as the largest menace was taken care of. Now they had to take care of the raiders.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject: Hunt
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 3:03 pm 
Site Gunslinger
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:50 pm
Posts: 8181
Location: The Dark Side
Offline
Before dawn, the day of the Cylon attacks
Hunt

Hunt curled his body, rolling away from the kicks. He hung, sort of, with the Daggers, but he hadn’t fully initiated into their gang. He’d stolen a car and mugged a mark like they required, but he drew the line at shooting at cops. Not that he especially liked cops, but a long time ago he’d decided that he wouldn’t kill anyone unless it was in self-defense. And ‘shooting at’, from his view, was the same as killing.

So when the Regals jumped him, he didn’t expect that any of the Daggers would come to his defense. He could tell that they didn’t plan on killing him, or he’d already be dead. No, they just wanted to beat the crap out of him, and he’d had that done to him before.

He kept his head—kept his head tucked in—and avoided the worst of the beating, and when he saw the chance, he got to his feet and ran. Ran doubled over, out of breath and in pain, but he still ran. He knew the streets well, but so did the Regals, and it took a little while to lose them; once he lost them, he found a dark corner in a narrow alley and sat with his back against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest.

He rested a few minutes, panting and swearing under his breath, then he assessed his injuries. He’d been kicked in the jaw, right where it hinged under his left ear, and that hurt the worst, the pain pounding up into his head. Gingerly he opened and closed his jaw and decided it wasn’t broken… but chewing would be a problem for awhile.

His ribs on the right were the next down in the pain level. He stretched out his legs and gently probed the ribs, again relieved that nothing was broken. The rest of his injuries were relatively minor: skinned and bruised knuckles on both hands; his right upper arm was scraped and oozing up to the edge of his sleeveless t-shirt; both his legs ached and would likely be bruised; and he had a knot on the outside of his left forearm from the steel toe of a boot.

Wearily he got to his feet and looked around. In the process of losing the Regals, he’d gotten lost, himself. He was near the edge of the city now, and he headed out of the alley, but then froze, pressing himself up against the wall.

Cops! Not specifically looking for him, just looking to roust drunks and druggies, but Hunt didn’t want to be caught up in their patrol. Two of them, with flashlights, and they turned down the alley.

Hunt moved silently back down the alley, keeping his back to the wall, knowing they were looking for scum passed out on the ground, not for anyone mobile. Luckily the alley wasn’t a blind one, and he slithered around the corner and kept to the dark edges of the street, loping once he was clear.

The cops seemed to be everywhere, and twice Hunt had to change direction, eventually finding himself up against a fence next to a large warehouse kind of building. He could smell and hear animals of some sort—and he saw another patrol. Not cops, security guards this time. He looked around in the darkness and opted to jump the fence, barbed wire and all. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he knew how to get over the wire without getting stuck. He did end up jabbing a barb into his left hand as he grabbed the wire and rolled over it, and the barb gashed it as he let go and fell to the ground. He closed his fist around it and headed for what looked like a good hiding place.

It was a good-sized shuttle, and what drew Hunt was the open cargo hatch. There was some sort of half-gate over the bottom of the hatch opening, and he vaulted over it, landing lightly on his feet inside the dark shuttle.

His vision was night adapted, and he searched for some place to hide, finding a sort of storage locker that odd, heavy suits were hung in. He closed the door and wormed his way between the suits and sat up against the back. He leaned his right shoulder against the side wall, then jerked away and touched the scrape on his upper arm with his fingertips.

“Motherfrakking Regals,” he muttered without moving his jaw. The storage locker was narrow, and he leaned his left shoulder against the other side wall, closing his eyes. In spite of the aches from his injuries, he was asleep in less than a minute.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 4:45 pm 
Site Gunslinger
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:50 pm
Posts: 8181
Location: The Dark Side
Offline
Pvt Dan Wolfe

Quote:
“All hands, this is the commander. Brace for impact. DC teams to the starboard side of the ship. Be prepared for numerous missile hits.”


“Let’s go!” Al snapped, running full out, and again Dan brought up the rear. He’d studied the layout of Mercury class battlestars, but that was far different than actually knowing how to get around.

More fires… electrical fires, the harsh smoke searing, and Dan aimed the nozzle of the fire bottle as the knuckledraggers pulled panels down. The ship shuddered, throwing them off their feet again and again.

Something ruptured, spraying them all with an oily substance, and the knuckledragger in front of Dan was on fire; he turned the nozzle on her, covering her with foam, then Al was yelling, “You’re on fire, on fire!” and Dan realized HE was burning, too.

Al snatched the nozzle from Dan’s hands, spraying him along his left side.

“Thanks!” Dan shouted, his eyes wide as Al handed the nozzle back to him.

Then… a flash, a huge KA-BOOM… Dan felt himself lifted, thrown, the initial jar of a hard impact.

Everything went black.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 5:20 pm 
Site Gunslinger
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:50 pm
Posts: 8181
Location: The Dark Side
Offline
PO2 Alexandra MacLean

Mac yanked the leads loose and stuffed the hand-held hardrive into her coverall pocket. Swiftly she closed the drive door shut and fastened it closed.

”Okay, this one is a go!” she yelled, climbing out of the cockpit and jumping down off the Mark-VII’s wing. No time for the usual safety, no time for maintenance stands and logs and standard operating procedures. Just get the virus fix loaded into the ships’ databases and hope that it worked. I hope it’s a go….

“Where the frak is the Chief, Dusty?” she asked Specialist Dustin Pickett.

“Dunno, Mac,” Dusty looked as harassed as Mac felt. “Port pod DC team I think…”

“We got shot up ships coming in faster than we can get this fix uploaded,” Mac said with frustration.

“Here, lemme take that and you go look at the mangled ones,” Dusty held out his hand. Mac slapped the hardrive into it and headed for a Viper being towed in; its left wing looked like metal-eating moths had been at it.

“Frak me!” she exclaimed, putting her fingers clear though the tip of the wing. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?” But her mind was already at work, and she grabbed one of the specialists, sending him off with a list of things she needed. As soon as he returned, they started the patch job.

One of the pilots came up to them and demanded, “Where’s the Chief?”

Mac looked over her shoulder briefly, then turned her eyes back to the repair job. “Damage control, sir,” she said. “What do you need?”

“A ship that flies!” she exclaimed.

Mac nodded. “Here, Li, you finish up—just keep doing like we started,” she told the specialist, then she turned to the pilot. “What’s up with the bird, sir?” she asked.

“Starboard thrusters are all out,” the pilot was clearly angry, but Mac knew it wasn’t directed at her.

“All of ‘em?” Mac asked, stretching her legs to keep up with the taller pilot as they headed for the Viper.

Mac listened as the pilot described the problem, opening an electronics panel even as she was still explaining. “Fried,” Mac muttered, pulling out a relay and tossing it over her shoulder. “Fried, fried, fried,” three more followed the first. “Five minutes, sir, give me five minutes,” she ran off to get spare parts, and a short time later—seven minutes, not five as she’d promised—the Viper was being prepped to go out again.

“Nothing like job security,” Mac sighed as she headed for the damaged Viper.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 6:21 pm 
Site Gunslinger
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:50 pm
Posts: 8181
Location: The Dark Side
Offline
OOC: Posted on behalf of Eaglestar51

Lt. Mark “Bull” Chandler
Vipers - Battlestar Delphinus

It was unreal. Like a video game.

Raiders swarmed all around like angry hornets

Somewhere basestars and battlestars battled it out, angry colossus spewing death and destruction. He could see the flashes of light all around, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but staying alive.

Staying alive meant moving constantly, shooting at the raiders. No time to exult in the terrible beauty of targets exploding mid-air.

There had been a moment of almost paralyzing fear when they’d first catapulted out of Delphinus. They were under attack! After almost 40 years of peace, the cylons were back, and they’d blasted in with a vengeance.

He was lucky he’d been assigned one of the ‘old” Vipers – somehow the Cylons had disabled the new ones, rendering them sitting ducks, to be blown up at will.

He’d seen it in that half-second of immobility when he first shot out of the battlestar – it was a rout, total carnage, hopeless…

And then something snapped.

He flipped the Viper around and started shooting.

Outside raiders buzzed and men and women fought and died. Outside battlestars and basestars duked it out like drunken deckhands on Colonial Day leave. Outside was chaos and death and destruction.

Outside the Delphinus rammed into the enemy in a last glorious act of gallantry and desperate bravery.

Outside.

He saw it all through calm, dispassionate eyes, while his body guided the Viper through evasive contortions, while his fellow pilots screamed silently in their fiery coffins, while the Colonies disappeared under mushroom clouds, while his world collapsed around him… And all the while he kept shooting away - against the unending stream of raiders, against overwhelming odds, against all rhyme and reason…


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject: Astral Dawn
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 6:53 pm 
User avatar
Site Canon Cop
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:54 pm
Posts: 2117
Location: out there
Offline
another part of Colonial space

Captain Donald Gibbs, seated on the bridge of the liner Astral Dawn held up the piece of paper for the umpteenth time.

He read it silently.
“From New Astral Lines, to Astral Dawn captain. The following was received from Colonial Fleet Headquarters.
‘Attention all Colonial units. Cylon attack underway. This is no drill.’
Assume this is true. Take necessary precautions. Will contact you on wireless with update.”

He put the paper down, and turned his head slightly to the side.

“Cylons.” He said to his co-pilot. “It’s been over 35 years, and not a peep from them.”

‘Well, they’re making a grand entrance.” Phineus Gojisa said somberly.

***

Astral Dawn was an older liner. Actually, she was a restored liner with all new systems. Her interior decorum was of the dark woods and such of her original majesty. From a passenger point of view, she was a remodeled antique of 35 years of age. But her systems were the latest. New Astral Lines, Inc. had purchased two of the old Astral Lines ships: Dawn and Glory. A third, Queen, would likely join her two sisters; negotiations had been underway for a few months.


Astral Dawn was on a 20-day vacation run around Colonial space, with 621 persons aboard (194 crewmembers, 427passengers) when that memo had come to Captain Gibbs.

He hadn’t hesitated.

First, he had all outgoing wireless transmissions stopped, then he changed course, and lowered his running lights. Years earlier, on another liner, he had been pursued by a pirate vessel. The defenseless liner had run silently into an aseteroid field to mask itself, and lights were lowered, systems were taken offline, and transmissions terminated. It had worked then: the pirates had lost the liner, assuming it had made a hyperlight jump. That liner didn’t have a jump system.

And although Astral Dawn did have a jump system, the captain had wondered where should he jump to? Where would be a safe place?
He decided the best thing to do was to sit tight, to let the military handle things. The Colonies were being targeted, so he would keep his ship away from the combat zones.

***

The captain turned to the Communications Officer.

“Any chance of cleaning up the wireless, Warren?”

Warren Danson lowered his headphones. “Sorry, Captain, it’s all bits and pieces and static. Lots of relays must have been destroyed.”

“The passengers are getting what we’re getting , right?” Gibbs wanted to be assured.

“Yes, Don.” Gojisa replied. “All wireless channels are being routed to the public and private receivers.”

“Good.” Captain Gibbs said. “They can’t call home, but they can know as much as we do.”

“DRADIS contact!” Phineus Gojisa sat upright in his chair. “Two unknowns coming our way!”

“Fire up the engines!” Gibbs commanded, as he was throwing various switches. “We have to assume the worst!” Cylons! he thought to himself.

It was true: the two unknowns were cylon raiders, the new kind, small, fast and mean.
They would overtake the liner in a few minutes.

“DRADIS contact!” Gojisa exclaimed. “A third ship… colonial transponder!”

***

Mercurius, a ship that was 2.75 times the length of a colonial raptor, had appeared here in a flash of light.

Kalrk, the lone occupant, saw new prey on his DRADIS console: two cylon raiders. They were after a slow moving tanker, or something as cumbersome. Whoever the humans were, they would live.

Aiming his weapons at the two cylons, he opened fire. The twin guns clipped one, sending it cart-wheeling to the right.

The other one paid him no attention, as it was targeting the liner, and fired two missiles.

***

“Incoming!” Co-Pilot Gojisa yelled unnecessarily.

“Frakkin’ hell.” Comm Officer Warren Danson muttered.

***

Mercurius sped up and overtook the missiles, flying in front of them and becoming their new hot objective. Kalrk fired off a swallow, a decoy drone, and one of the cylon missiles went for it, and exploded on contact with the swallow.

In a split-second, Kalrk spun Mercurius 180 degrees on its x axis, now flying “backwards” and “upside down”. He opened fire and the second cylon missile exploded into small fragments, like a firework.

“Where’d they go?”, Kalrk asked no one.

Spotting the nearest cylon ship, which seemed to be in a moment of confusion, he opened fire and it was finished.

The injured craft, was righting itself and was again pursuing the colonial ship. A missile fired from Mercurius went unerring to the cylon and took it out.

“Pathetic raiders.” Kalrk said, while coming alongside the tanker or whatever it was.

[“You saved our asses!”] Came through the speakers in his black custom helmet, which matched his black and grey flightsuit.
[“This is liner Astral Dawn. Who are you, hotshot?”]

“I’m Kalrk. And this is my ship Mercurius.” He replied calmly and not boastfully.

[“Kalrk?!”] A man on the liner retorted. [“As in President of K Industries?”]

“That’s right; I’m Kalrk. And you?”

[“Captain Donald Gibbs. Thank you, Mr. Kalrk. We wouldn’t have escaped those cylon ships! Where’d you learn to shoot like that? And that was some fancy flying, as best as I could tell from my DRADIS.”]

“I… I have my hobbies, captain. And I like to be prepared for anything.”

[“Well, thanks again.] Gibbs repeated.
[“Where have you been? What have you seen, Mr. Kalrk?”]

“Humanity’s children have come home.” was the plainly stated sentence.
“But this .. this way….” His voice trailed off.

[“It’s a nightmare.”] Gibbs remarked.
[“What should we do? Should we go somewhere or…”]

“No!” Kalrk interrupted., then he took a breath to calm himself.
“It isn’t safe to be moving about. You should keep a low profile here.”

[“That’s what we were doing, then those two showed up.”]

“They were scouts… I think.” He added.
“No more should come this way for some hours… I’ve studied the Cylon War and their tactics. You’ll be safe here for a while.”

[“We’ll be safe? What about you, Mister Kalrk?”]

“Kalrk. My name is Kalrk.” He didn’t like being called mister.
“I… I have to check something out. Wait here for me. I won’t be long. You’ll be safe here for hours; trust me.”

[“I won’t promise that we’ll be here hours from now, Kalrk . But I sure would like your company.”] Don Gibbs was being honest.
[“Dawn owes you big time, hero.”]

“I won’t be more than two hours, maybe less. Kalrk, out.”

He turned his ship from the side of the liner and at a short distance, Mercurius ftl’ed away.

.


Last edited by Silon on Mon May 08, 2006 11:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 7:01 pm 
Site Gunslinger
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:50 pm
Posts: 8181
Location: The Dark Side
Offline
Morning, day of the Cylon attacks
Hunt

Hunt woke up with a start and gasped. “Frak me,” he growled, putting his hand to the side of his jaw. He realized what had awakened him; animals, big ones from the sounds of it, being loaded onto the shuttle. He breathed in and out, pressed his palm against his bruised ribs, then gave a mental shrug. Whatever, he thought. Change of scenery will do me good… just hope nobody looks in here.

The barb-wire gash on his left hand was throbbing, and he opened and closed his hand experimentally. The closet he was hiding in was almost completely dark and he couldn’t see anything.

After awhile, it sounded like the loading was done, then there were various ship noises; and then the shuttle took off!

“Hell,” Hunt muttered, bracing himself. Once the ship was airborne, the flight was smooth and steady, and didn’t last very long—less than an hour.

Then the reverse of before—the shuttle landed, people talking, animals were unloaded, and Hunt listened carefully, trying to figure out where he was. Somewhere else on Aerelon? It didn’t sound like it. He didn’t move from the closet for awhile, then cautiously opened the door a crack and peered out, listening. Nothing—that is, no people and no animals. Slowly he eased out of the closet, stiff and sore and alert. No one was in the shuttle, but the hatch was still open. He looked out; a landing bay, no one in sight. So he was on a larger ship now…

He walked down the shuttle ramp, following the path that the animals had obviously been herded along, out the landing bay and down a wide passage. He could hear the animals more clearly now, cows he guessed, and he tested each hatch he came to. The first unlocked one was a feed storage locker, so he slid in and looked around. Bales of hay were stacked deck to overhead from the back along one wall. Bales had been taken from the front, the second stack only as high as Hunt was tall, and a single row in front at knee height. Across from the hay, large unopened bags of grain and other lumpy feed, and near the hatch, a big metal bin with a door a few feet off the floor. Hunt opened it, finding loose grain inside.

As good as any other place he thought, and with reminders of his various injuries he rearranged the hay bales to make a hollow space behind the front stacks. He climbed into his ‘nest’ and relaxed slightly. He looked at the gash on his left palm. It had bled quite a bit, leaving dry crusted blood over his hand and forearm, but wasn’t bleeding any more—now it was very tender, swollen, and red.

Unexpectedly, the hatch opened and someone came in. Hunt froze, not even breathing, until they left. “So far so good,” he muttered quietly, then tenderly rubbed his aching jaw.


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 7:02 pm 
Joined: Mon May 08, 2006 5:04 pm
Posts: 6
Offline
James "Rough Rider" Dodson was in the Pilot Rec. Room when the call over the CIC came. "Action Stations, Action Stations. Set Condition-1 throughout the ship, this is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill."

"What the frak is going on?" a new nugget asked the CAG.

"I don't know. Keep your eyes open and stick with your wingman," Rough Rider answered as they took off towards the Flight Deck.

A deck hand tossed Dodson his flight helmet as he reached his Viper Mark Vii. He sealed the canopy and gave the right hand gesture to have a few more move him into the launch tube. Once he got the green light from the Launch Officer, he braced and hit after burners as he reached the end of the tube.

"This is the CAG, all Vipers, form up on my wing. Solstice, CAG, who the frak is engaging us?"

"EAM recieved said the Cylons have attacked the Colonies. Two Cylon Raiders are on DRADIS, feeding you the coordinantes," the Solstice tactical officer replied.

"Wait, wait, I see them. Bearing head on, they don't seem to be overly concerened," Rough Rider called.

Then something happened. A Red Light streamed left and right. Dodson's systems glitched a bit, but nothing happened. All the other Vipers shut down though.

Dodson's Viper was about to be sent in for overhaul, it was long overdue. Maybe that was it? It didn't matter. And if the Vipers were shut down, Solstice was also shut down, no use calling in.

He picked a Raider and engaged him. The first burst came over past the Raider. After he reached safe distance, he toggled the switch that controlled the thrusters to make a flip, and leveled off. The Raider slipped to the left and the right of his bursts, just staying out of the kill slot.

"Gods damn it," Dodson hissed as the Raiders launched missiles towards the disabled Vipers and battlestar. Rough Rider hit the power down button, and watched the Raiders FTL away. He had to come up a way to get aboard the Solstice, find out what the frak happened, and link up with another Battlestar Group.

_________________
"If you can't do something smart, do something right," Jayne Cobb


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 7:57 pm 
User avatar
Site Deer Slayer
Joined: Thu May 04, 2006 9:34 pm
Posts: 668
Offline
Quote:
Rodrigues spoke into his handset. “Herald this is Rodrigues, we’ll take on the last baseship. Keep our aft covered and help with the raiders. If we don’t take it out on this pass you are free to engage.”



Herald grabbed the wireless: " Roger that Libra," he said. He looked over at Johnson: " get me Mad Dog."

Captain Alicia Barker loved flying, especially Vipers. There was nothing like dropping in on a nugget in training and watching them panic, and the feeling of playing chicken couldn't be matched. But this was REAL... no games, no playtime, NO nuggets, atleast not anymore.

" CAG this is Griffyn Actual," came over the wireless. " Actual, this is Mad Dog, what's up," she asked as another Cylon... and another Viper bit the dust. " Orders from Libra are to guard her aft and take out the Raiders as she makes attack run on remaining Baseship," Heralds said.

" Roger that sir, TALONS- take the Raiders on Libra's port aft, STALLIONS- form up on me to take Raiders on Libra's starboard," she yelled into the wireless. The remaining Griffyn Vipers did just as she said.

The explosion of the last Basestar was spectacular, but the Raiders were so numerous there was no time for celebration. The Griffyn's flak turrets were taking out some Raiders, but the heat of the battle was now between Viper and Raiders.

Mad Dog looked around for a solution... her eyes scanned and thoughts raced. " We have to get them closer to the Griffyn," she thought.

_________________
Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 9:11 pm 
User avatar
Site RockPrincess
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:48 pm
Posts: 300
Location: FL
Offline
Maj. Kraig Maur; CAG
Battlestar Libra
Day 00


"Heheh. You've gotta be kiddin' me Ben. The Cylons?" Kraig said in disbelief. His distinct southern Caprican inflection betrayed a sense of confidence.

The Libra's CAG, Major Kraig Maur, had been leisurely going over reports in his office when the CO contacted him with the initial report of a Cylon attack on the colonies. Kraig didn't believe it at first, but as they spoke the alerts sounded shipwide. The CO disconnected leaving Kraig bewildered for a split second. But his training, which was practically instinctual to him, took over. In a swift move, he pulled up his flight suit and tossed his hat on his desk.

In moments he was on the flight deck, running past various pilots rushing to their Vipers. He rushed to a phone and made a shipwide announcement.

"This is the CAG. All pilots to their planes. This is-" He hesitated for a moment as it sank in. "-not a drill. Repeat, NOT a drill." Replacing the phone onto the wall, Kraig felt a brief feeling of fear, but made sure nobody could see it. He let all his pride in his ship and it's crew flood into him, giving him the confidence he needed.

He checked with all the various squadron CO's and made sure they were prepped and ready.

_________________
Image
Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 9:40 pm 
User avatar
Site Deer Slayer
Joined: Thu May 04, 2006 9:34 pm
Posts: 668
Offline
CPO Paul Luna
Destroyer Douglas J. Griffyn Deck Chief
- in the starboard flight pod

The warning of the missile was so sudden... he saw the techs standing there bracing themselves for the impact, and when he could see through the smoke after the explosion... it was what he imagined Hell to be like.

Fire, sparks, smoke, and the noises of groaning metal greeted his senses. He stood up, and saw that a beam had fallen from the rafters above and... the sight was unbearable. Checking their pulses only confirmed his fears. Paul looked around for something..ANYTHING to cover them with. He finally found a tarp used to cover Vipers... it would have to do.

The DC teams were swarming everywhere, putting out fires and sealing off hatches. Luna found PO2 Gulley, " what's our status?" She gave him an odd look as he realized the roaring noise of the fire. " What's our status," he yelled.

" Launch tubes 1-4 are inoperable... too much structural damage," she said. Luna quickly began running through the deck, checking for personnel and checking the other 6 launch tubes.

Everything else checked out... well... checked out as good as can be expected in this chaotic situation. Luna grabbed his necklace, which consisted of a small goddess pendant, kissed it, and said a small prayer.

_________________
Image


Top
 Profile  
 

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 11:21 pm 
User avatar
Site Legal Eagle
Joined: Wed May 03, 2006 10:49 pm
Posts: 3197
Location: Hurricane alley
Offline
Colonial Marines - Recon
Fire Team 1

“All hands brace for impact!”

Alarms blared throughout the ship.

Lance corporal Josette Benoit hardly had time to grab the railing on the bulkhead before the incoming ordnance hit.

The ship shook violently, and she was thrown to the deck. The lights flickered briefly and then went out, enveloping the passageway in Stygian darkness. The sounds were deafening – fire alarms, boots running, metal groaning in protest at the abuse. She screamed above the din “Fire Team! Status!”

“Laffitte here!” The voice was strong and came from somewhere behind her.

“Jones?” Benoit called out to the third member of her team. “Jonesy? Laffitte! Where’s Jones?”

She heard movement behind her as she stood up.

“He’s here!” Laffitte called. “Out cold, but still breathing.”

“Make him comfortable and let’s go. We gotta get to CIC!”

Their orders were to hie their asses to CIC and protect the CO at all costs. They rushed through the passageways, now faintly illuminated by emergency LCD.

CIC was a bevy of activity. In its midst, Commander Benito Rodrigues - the Old Man or Badass Benny, as he was sometimes referred to – appeared an island of calm competence. The Old Man was standing, giving orders, seemingly in all places at the same time.

The Old Man would get them out of this. She was sure of it.

“Hell of a way to celebrate your birthday, eh?” Laffitte joked, a crooked smile gracing his too-pretty face.

Josette breathed deeply, “My birthday…”

Earlier that day…

Josette smiled as she took out the carefully wrapped package from her locker.

Her birthday present from Aunt Claire.

Every year since she could remember, Aunt Claire had sent her a present for her birthday. Sometimes the package was a few days early, but it had never been late. The gift itself was simple, its monetary worth determined by the ebbs and flows of Aunt Clare’s often scant finances – a small toy or a coloring book when she was a child; a batch of cookies, a bottle of cologne or some pretty trinket as she grew older… But always with the gift there was a letter, and
that was the most special part of Josette’s birthday ritual. For the letter invariably told a story about Aunt Claire’s twin sister, Celine, when she was Josette’s age. Celine. Josette’s mother. Celine who died when Josette was only two.

She opened the package carefully, setting aside the gaily wrapped box with its paper ribbons and bows. She would open it later. First the letter.

As usual, it was handwritten on pastel colored paper that still bore a soft scent of some unidentifiable flower. Aunt Claire would send other messages throughout the year, electronic messages to Josette’s e-account, with pictures and stuff. But her birthday letter was special, meant to be touched and saved and enjoyed for many years.

........My dearest niece,

........Happy birthday! May the gods bless you and protect you, and may
........your day be filled with joy and beauty.

........You are now twenty, and such a fine young woman… Celine would
........be so proud of you, dear Josette! She met your father when she
........was 20, you know. She was in nursing school…

Josette’s eyes misted, and she closed them briefly. She knew this story – it was her favorite when she was growing up. She could hear her father’s deep voice as he tucked her to sleep, telling her, for the umpteenth time, how he met her mother. “She was a nursing student, Josie, beautiful as an angel. Her eyes were a clear turquoise blue, like the still waters off the beaches of Korfeaux, her skin like golden honey. And her smile! Her smile would light up a room, Josie, and her sweet voice could soothe away all pain. She was assigned to care for a dumb fireman with more brawn than brains…” He always laughed when he said that, and Josette always blew him a kiss and burrowed deeper into her bed, imagining her beautiful mother and her handsome, brave father, who’d been injured saving someone’s life. “I saw her, Josie, and it was like the gods had smiled on me. I fell in love with her right there. And the gods did smile on me then, because she felt the same way…”

They married a few months later and were gloriously happy. Twelve years passed, and their joy was finally complete when Celine delivered a healthy, bouncing baby girl. And they named her Josette.


She smiled at Laffitte with gallows humor. “I said I wanted fireworks for my birthday, Frankie. Looks like I got them.”

_________________
404 Error - File Not Found


Top
 Profile  
 

Display posts from previous:  Sort by  

Post new topic This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 169 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 12  Next

All times are UTC - 5 hours


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 4 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