p0is0n0us's G80 story My short story, a work in progress
Posted 09 July 2010 - 02:47 PM
Apollo stared out of the window of his cabin aboard Galactica. His thoughts drifted through his life on Caprica and his youth. Although in his early twenties when Caprica was decimated by Cylon attack he could still feel the Caprican sun on his face, the cool breeze of the ocean washing over him. As the waves rippled through his thoughts he was reminded of his brother Zack and how they used to play in the ocean near where they lived as children. His brother would laugh and splash around in the water while Apollo watched him. Zack would always try to swim further out into the water but Apollo would be there to guide him back to shallower waters.
“One day little brother you’re going to swim out too far and I won’t be there to save you” Apollo smiled as he nudged his brother back to shore.
Over the com channel a voice awoke Apollo back to the now. “Commander Apollo, please report to CIC. The long range scouts are returning and are asking for you priority one”.
Apollo jerked back to the present. The long range scouts had not found any sign of a planet or civilization in half a yarn. Supplies were exhausted and fuel for the ships was at a bare minimum.
When Apollo arrived in CIC the crew was buzzing around excitedly. Starbuck, the executive office walked up beside him. His body was trembling, the years of battle had taken their toll on him and over recent years it was starting to show. There’s a limit to how much combat a soldier can take before they break both physically and mentally, Starbuck crossed that lines many yarns ago.
“What’s going on?” Apollo asked.
“The long range scouts have had a first contact. Apparently they ran into two fighters of an unknown origin. Their sensors show that they were scanned but the fighters jumped before they could communicate” Starbuck replied.
Apollo stood silent for a second. The fleet hadn’t seen the Cylon’s for well over half a yarn, was this a new type of Cylon fighter following them just out of range? Starbuck looked at him quizzically “Commander?”
“Order Red and Blue squadrons to stand by” Apollo said, “We don’t have the fuel for the vipers to fly escort so we’ll launch them when needed. Did we manage to get any data at all on those fighters?”
Starbuck looked at him, “According to our pilots they were unable to scan them. They were very fast and very maneuverable. They didn’t look like any Cylon configuration we’re seen before. We had no way of tracking which way they were headed”
“Show me where the pilots were when contact was made” Apollo pointed to the star chart of the wall. Starbuck walked over to it and squinted for a second, this eye sight was not what it used to be.
“Here” he said pointed a tremoring hand to an area of the map. “We can be there in half a day and maximum speed but a lot of the smaller ships will not be able to keep up with us if we do that”
“We can’t leave any ships behind with a potential unknown threat. How long at our current rate?”
“Two days.” Starbuck replied.
“So is this a new Cylon attack force sent out to spook us a lure us into a trap or is it a first contact situation? We are out of supplies, if we stay the course we’re on we will run out of food and fuel within weeks” Apollo mused.
Starbuck stared at the map, deep in thought then said, “I recommend we head to the contact point sir. If it’s a trap then we’ll die fighting. I would rather die quickly in a cockpit than slowly of starvation.”
“We don’t appear to have many options at this point” Apollo said to his old friend. “I’ll speak to Tigh and the council; they should be made aware of the situation”.
“The council will object” Starbuck growled.
“We don’t have a choice in this matter, as I said we have no options left to us. Order the fleet to change course. Let’s hope the gods favor us this day”
Starbuck watched his friend walk out. He had an uneasy feeling that they were heading into a trap. His mind started to race with possibilities, scenarios of combat situations. Then the flash backs started, all of a sudden he was flying a wrecked viper, the left wing shot off with the instrument panel flashing red lights at him. Panic started to over take him as he remember the eject system blowing him out into space. A few seconds later the viper exploded pushing Starbuck into a world of flickering stars. He just hung there in space for what seemed like an eternity, nothing but the sound of his breathing and the small light of his beacon flashing. Starbuck looked around and watch helplessly as ships flew silently passed him. Eventually he felt a yank on his body as he was pulled inside a shuttle that was sent to retrieve him. These and a thousand other memories flooded into his head.
One day death will come to us he thought.
As Apollo walked into the council chambers Tigh was concluding a meeting. The food in the fleet was nearly gone and so were the medical supplies. Theft and violence were becoming a way of life among the civilians, the old and the weak were dying. The meeting was to discuss ways to improve security in the storage areas. The more security that got added the more death there was. Either the guards would be killed with the sheer number of people trying to get to the food or the guards would open fire killing the oncoming heard of people. Finding security personnel to guard the food was getting harder and harder as nobody wanted to kill or be killed.
“Apollo, it’s good to see you” Tigh smiled.
“It’s good to see you to. I need to talk to you and the council about what’s going to happen in the next two days”
“What’s going to happen in the next two days?” Tigh said looking at him.
Apollo went on to explain about the two unknown crafts and the plan to travel to the point of contact.
“We don’t have a choice” Apollo said. “We have NO supplies left and haven’t seen another human in half a yarn”
Tigh looked at Apollo “This could be a Cylon trap”
“I’m aware of that, what choice do we have? We have no water, no food, no medicine. People are dying, we’re out of options. My plan is to send scouts ahead of the fleet when we get near, that way if it’s a trap we stand a chance of running”
“The council is going to be uneasy with this” Tigh said quietly.
“As are we all. I need your support with this Tigh, make them understand that we have no alternative. We haven’t come across another planet in months and we don’t have the resources to carry on looking.” a slight edge of frustration in his voice.
“I will speak to them, desperation will make them see reason.”
Tigh looked at robes. When he first put them on seven yarns ago he remembered the light weight material felt good on him. He looked like a dignitary who was going to bring about change. Over time the robes started to feel heavy on him both physically and mentally. Lack of food and over work had worn Tigh out. The only thing that kept him going was his promise to Adama, one day they will find Earth.
Over the next few hours the fleet prepared. Vipers were checked and double checked; the armory distributed its limited supplies to all available ships. Triages were setup in unused hangers, this would limit the time taken to get a wounded pilot from his ship to medical aid. In the CIC Starbuck glared at the console in front of him “What do you mean we have thirty percent shields?” he exclaimed to chief engineer Trake.
“Even if we take life support from the area’s not in use and shut down all non essential systems that’s all we’ve got” said Trake. Trake was used to dealing with pressure; he had inherited the role of chief engineer after the death of his predecessor and gotten used maintaining Galactica.
Trake continued “We have no fuel, half the systems are fraked beyond repair due to age or battle damage.”
“We are going into a potential combat situation with forces that maybe superior to our own and you can only give me thirty percent!” Starbuck shouted, he was shacking more than normal.
“Then maybe we shouldn’t be going into a combat situation…..sir” Trake stared back. Word had gotten around the fleet that contact had been made with unknown ships. Most of the fleet had already jumped to the conclusion that the fighters were Cylon and there was going to be nothing at the contact point other than basestars and raiders.
“There are older ships in the fleet. Take a security detail and transport all the personnel to Galactica and take what you need from them. If we go in there I want a fighting chance of survival” Starbuck glared.
“But sir, you can’t expect me…” Trake started.
“I expect you to do what is necessary to keep us alive, GO!” Starbuck shouted. He was holding onto a console now as he was straining to keep himself steady.
“yes sir” Trake managed, then headed out the door shaking his head.
Starbuck grunted then pressed the coms button on the console. “Lana, where are we at with sickbay? Are all the triages set up?”
A few seconds later Starbuck heard Lana’s voice, “Sickbay reports ready, of course if anyone comes in with more than a paper cut their fraked. We have limited bandages and not a lot of anything else”
“Do what you can, Starbuck out”
Starbuck looked around the CIC, everyone was busy and paying no attention to him, or at least pretending not to. Starbuck slid a hand into his pocket and produced a vile of pills. He slipped on in his mouth and bit hard. All of a sudden calm fell over him, it was going to be ok. All he had to do was stay focused and the fleet will get through this.
Posted 09 July 2010 - 04:37 PM
You have some nuBSG bits woven into the classic, very nice mix. I thought that Starbuck may have some medical issue... and yep, at the end it would seem so. Or maybe drug issue *gasp*
Can't wait for more! Cylon-Knight Mind Approved - WRITE ON
Posted 29 February 2012 - 04:05 PM
Aboard a Cylon Baseship Baltar woke trembling, his dreams had been terrorizing him for the last few months. His Imperious Leader had given him one last chance to capture the humans and his time was drastically running out. Baltar’s mind wondered through his past, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw a human let alone have a conversation with one. How he longed to talk about art, music, theatre…anything with a real person. He had of course tried with the Cylon’s but the Centurions were not known for their conversation.
As the old man rose from his bed he felt the cold metal of the floor beneath him. Cylon comfort was on par with their conversation. In his quarters were a metal bed, a basic shower and a handful of personal items that he had managed to grab when he left Caprica. As he moved to the shower Lucifer walked into the room. There were sensors all around the baseship to monitors Baltar’s movements at all times.
“What is it Lucifer?” Baltar growled at his Cylon companion.
“Sensors have detected the presence of the Colonial fleet” Lucifer said smoothly.
“At last, the new probes have proved their worth. How far away are they?” asked Baltar, excitement mounting in his voice.
“Contact in less than a week at full speed”
“Have you received the data from the probes, were they seen?”
“According to the probes there was a scout party of two Vipers” Lucifer said.
“Very well, make preparations. Now leave me” Baltar growled.
So finally I have you Baltar thought. His Imperious Leader will surely spare my life now in return for giving him the last remaining humans.
Several yarns previous the Cylon’s had come across an ancient derelict planet. War had ravaged the land until there were no survivors. When the raiders had landed and examined the technology of the planet they found that it was more advanced than their own. Military bases were not hard to find, along with rockets, lasers and all manner of offensive and defensive weaponry. It was during this time that the raiding parties came across the deep space probes. Fitted with cloaking devices and able to reach speeds even the fastest know ship couldn’t match these devices would surely help seal the human’s fate.
Walking onto the command Baltar stopped next to a Gold Centurion.
“Report” Baltar commanded.
“Five Basestar’s are awaiting you command” The Cylon said, his voice monotone.
“Do you have to coordinates sent by the probes?” Baltar asked.
“We have them” The Cylon answered.
“Very well, tell the fleet to make way, maximum speed”
“By Your Command” The Gold Cylon answered.
Lucifer glided over the Baltar and asked, “Have you told our Imperious Leader about the probes findings?”
Baltar turned to him, ‘I have not informed him as to our plans yet. I feel no need to rush as I’m sure your secret reports to him about me are keeping him well informed” Baltar smiled. Although Lucifer’s facial expression could not change the tone in his voice had a slight hint of irritation.
“His Imperious Leader has asked that he be kept well informed as to all things human, this includes you” Lucifer said.
“I’ve been reading your reports to the Imperious Leader for weeks, your loyalty to me is touching” Baltar said without a trace of sarcasm.
“I have merely expressed concerns about some of the tactical decisions that you’ve made in the past” Lucifer said airily.
“And maybe you could have done a better job if you were in my position?” Baltar stared at him coldly.
“As I wasn’t in command I guess we will never know”. Lucifer said, the light of his eyes swaying steadily.
Baltar turned from him, “How is the research coming along with our new found technology? Have we found anything of any use to us?”
“Our scientists have been able to upgrade the weaponry on the Raiders by 20%. We have the designs for new ships but we lack certain metals for the propulsion. We have concerns that once we reach a certain speed our current known metals would simply melt”.
“Anything else?” Baltar asked.
“We might not have the speed of the ships but we have taken the design and are currently working on a proto-type. We might not have the speed but the designs show that the craft will be more maneuverable than our current Raider”.
“Good, I wish to see this new ship the moment it’s completed”
‘By your command” Lucifer said.
Baltar sat high in his chair, his thoughts were scattering. Now in his twilight years Baltar had spent a lot of time thinking about his past. As the yarns had gone by he felt that his lust for power had diminished and his fight for survival had taken over. When he first was given a Basestar of his own to command he was sure that he would be able to capture the humans and be the right hand of the Imperious Leader. As time passed and with reoccurring failure he started to worry for his survival. He felt that the Imperious Leader kept him around more as a reminder of how weak humans are instead of for his cunning. He would show him though, he was going to succeed this time and prove his worth once and for all.
Although in command of a Basestar, Baltar was always accompanied by two Centurions. His Imperious Leader had insisted that he be watched at all times. Baltar was sure that it was a reminder to him that he is still a prisoner, and cut be executed at any given opportunity.