"You ever get the feeling we're getting too old for all of this Jerry?" Tigg asked in his cabin. He'd offered Dairen a drink, but the XO had politely refused. Rachel's party had gotten a little out of hand. The Deck crews had been a bit rowdy. At least that's what Tigg had heard. He'd headed in early, catching up on paperwork. Dairen had stopped by for a nightcap. Well, Tigg could call it that, even if he was the only one drinking.
"No, just that you are," Dairen said, there was only a shadow of a smile on his face. The XO was right. Tigg was getting too old for this. Time for this Commander to move along so that someone younger and more eager could mold the Pacifica into their own vision of a properly running Battlestar. It would happen soon enough. He just needed to get her in for her SLEP and he'd be gone.
"I tracked down the issue on that bird today," Dairen said.
"Do I want to know about it?" Tigg asked, looking at a dispatch, shuffling it off to the 'bother me again in a week' pile.
"Let's just say that if someone comes to you thinking the kid who went out there deserves a medal... He doesn't. Dairen was leaning against the bulkhead. He didn't even look tired. The guy was a machine, Bob thought. He put his classes down on the desk.
"So, what do the little birds from the hanger deck have to say?"
"Hey, I couldn't tell you. I don't know, right?"
"You're about the most uninformed XO in the fleet," Bob allowed.
"Conners downchecked one of his birds. Kid gave her one with thruster problems. Not that anyone had written a chit on it mind you." Dairen shrugged. Tigg was less than pleased. He narrowed his eyes at the XO.
"Hey, little birds right?" Dairen said.
"That shit doesn't happen on my boat," Tigg said. He could have throttled the crew chief for putting one of his pilots in danger like that.
"Come on Bob, you think you're super Commander or what? It happens. You know better," He and Jerry had served together for a long time but... Oh. Hell. He was right. Tigg was just tired. Still, something had to be done. "You might cut the kid a little slack, he did go out and save her and the bird."
"Lewis know about this?"
"Hey, he's closer to the little birds than I am."
"Alright, Lewis can take care of his own. You got anything else or are you just hanging around making sure I get tucked in?" Tigg asked, downing his scotch and soda.
"We're due in in two weeks. Just wondering if you were working up your crew recommendations." Ah, so fishing.
"Yeah, of course I am." Tigg said. It wasn't the smoothest move, but then Jerry wasn't such a smooth operator, except when he had support, like from Master Chief Lewis. Lewis was about as smooth as they came. "You have a specific question Colonel?"
"I was just..."
"... sniffing around?" Tigg finished. He shouldn't be so hard on Dairen. Maybe it was the drink. "I'll let you know Jer, but not yet. Don't worry I'm not going to surprise you." Or maybe he was going to. Dairen's record was clean, if uninspiring. Not having wings was hurting him. Tigg got the impression that he knew it. The guy just didn't relate to pilots, which meant command of a Battlestar wasn't in his future. A support ship, sure, but not something where he'd be called on to command pilots. It just wasn't in the cards. He wanted it though.
"I appreciate that Commander," Dairen said coming to a bit of attention. They both knew that Tigg would deep six any hopes of a Battlestar. It was a small bone of contention between what was otherwise a fairly decent working relationship.
"Have a good night Colonel," he said, a dismissal. Dairen walked out and Tigg was left in his cabin alone. He'd only been aboard for two years, long for a single command really, but then he didn't have many illusions when he got here. Just as Dairen wouldn't get his Battlestar Tigg knew that a second star wasn't in his future either. He'd been passed over for the Admiralty three months into this command. After that it had just been a matter of serving out his thirty.
He'd had a good career hadn't he? Nothing to complain about to be sure. Still, he was a pilot at heart, competitive. Being passed over had stung. He'd had a while to let it settle in though.
"I will miss it," he allowed himself before turning in.
"Clear," Garrison's voice was quiet over the channel, almost inaudible. Edwards shuffled quietly down the corridor, ready for something to jump out. They just had to get through the berthing compartment for Bravo company and they'd be through. Edwards crept along slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, his footsteps hardly a whisper. He looked around slowly, the room glowing green in the night vision equipment over his eyes. No one much moved in the bay.
They'd been at this for almost an hour now. It hadn't been too bad up until now, they'd known that this would be the toughest part of the Ex. They'd picked Bravo company as the ingres path because they'd been nuggets when they'd left Caprica months ago. Lucky for Garrison and Edwards they hadn't matured much in that time. Sgt. Anthony though...
Edwards crept up to Anthony's door and listened. He bet that Bravo Company's Top had broken his nose a few time from the sounds that emanated from his quarters. It could have been a wind tunnel. Deep and slow. He was out for sure. Edwards crept by, slipping into the head quietly as the fire watch came back through. Two clicks sounded in his ear as Garrison had eyes on the fire watch. Edwards flattened himself against the wall and waited. It would have been so easy to grab the kid, but that wasn't what their Ex was all about.
Time seemed to stand still as he waited. Finally two more clicks sounded. Firewatch was past. Edwards slunk out of the head and out the far side of the bay. He waited for a minute before walking through the door. There was no one outside the bay.
"Clear," he called quietly over the wireless. Garrison clicked twice to let him know that he was starting his run. Edwards watched in the NVE as Garrison made his way through the bay. Firewatch would be back in five minutes. They'd timed the kid three times through his routine before they'd decided on the schedule. Edwards had to admit that Garrison was better than him at this stuff. He could hardly see the guy slink through on the night vision. Then again, he'd taken the run that didn't have the Firewatch come through.
They linked up outside the bay and headed off for their primary target.
"What are you doing?" someone asked from behind them. They both spun around ready to pounce. Shit. Captain Heron, their CO.
"Uh... SleepEx?" Garrison offered, pulling the night vision from his head. Edwards feigned snoring.
"What the hell is going on out here?" Sgt. Anthony looked ready to chew serious ass as he stormed out of the bay, having heard the voices. He shriveled on seeing Heron though.
"Evening Captain," He said, saluting. He looked at Garrison and Edwards, noticed their gear and narrowed his eyes at them.
"Evening Sergeant," Heron said, returning the salute, "Sorry to wake you, obviously my guys are getting sloppy," She gave them a displeased look. They were so busted. Anthony looked them all over and slunk back into his bay. Heron, motioned the pair to move out.
"SleepEx 'eh?" She asked when they were out of earshot.
"Hey, we gotta keep the spear sharp right Captain?" Garrison asked. He was the braver of the two, in addition to being the quieter. Luckier too, which is why he did the talking. Edwards would only dig their grave deeper if he opened his mouth and he knew it.
"Uh huh," Heron said, not impressed. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, a short one. Edwards wondered if she ever wore it any other way. "Just a coincidence you're making a bee line for Lieutenant Gathe's quarters?" She asked. Gathe wasn't the most popular Lt. on the Vanguard, especially among the SpecOps troops.
"Gathe? Were we? His quarters are down here? We were just going to stop by the Goat Locker for a cup of coffee, honest Captain," Garrison said in his best puppy dog tone.
"Good night Garrison," Heron said, dismissing the specialist.
"Sir," He said saluting, practically running from the scene of the crime.
"How about that coffee Eddy?" She asked Edwards less formally. The Sergeant clipped his NVE to his belt and nodded.
"I am here to but serve," He said.
It wasn't the Goat Locker, and the coffee wasn't as good, but disturbing the Chiefs at this hour was not such a good idea. They found a quiet part of the Van's enlisted mess to talk.
"I'm guessing this isn't my post ex performance review," Edwards ventured, dumping half a dozen packets of sugar into his coffee. Heron made a face at his coffee abuse. He just smiled back.
"You ate those sugary cereals as a kid didn't you?" She asked.
"Hell, I still eat 'em 'chelle," He said. He took a good long sip of his sugar and sludge.
"You'll rot your teeth."
"I've got a good dental plan."
"I dunno, you seen the instruments Doc's got? I don't think he cleans 'em." Oh boy. She was worked up.
"What's got you wound up so tight?" Edwards asked. It was late, and nightowl he might be, watching Michelle pontificate could get painful fast.
"Yeahrly recommended me for S2 of the 5th."
Ah huh. It hadn't been the first time the General had tried to kick-start Heron's career. Edwards had figured that the last time had been the last though. There were only so many times you could say no to advancement. There were people scratching hard at such a position. Why 'chelle shrugged 'em all off...
"Take it," Edwards said bluntly. He'd have to break in a new CO, but hell that was a challenge. He'd happily do that if he didn't have to watch Michelle wither on the vine here. She told everyone that she liked what she did, didn't want to give it up. He knew the truth thought, well, as much as she'd let anyone know. He guessed she didn't want to find out where the glass ceiling was, didn't want to be stuck in a staff position for the rest of her career so she self-limited.
"It ain't that easy Eddy," she said, stirring her coffee. Gods she could get infuriating when she was like this, like a whipped puppy. Well, okay, everything was relative, but Edwards knew she was better than this vulnerable person before him.
"Bullshit. Tell Yeahrly yes. It's that easy."
"No. Don't you see? The 5th is stationed all the way on the other side for the colonies, about as far away from Caprica as you can get," She said.
"Yeah so?" He asked. Oh. Oh no. She had to be joking. He'd seen Charley once, while he'd been aboard the Pacifica for an Ex. She couldn't be serious. The pasty console jockey?
"You're right," She said. What did she expect?
"You've gotta be kidding," Edwards said. "Charley? Come on 'chelle, we've slogged through a lotta mud together. This ain't the guy," He said.
"What the hell would you know anyway?" She snapped at him. He should have slapped her. She had to snap out of it. He was not her girlfriend to confess to. Hell, if she wanted to do that there was a priest on board.
"Hey, I'm not the one who's dumped two up and coming prospects," Eddy said, then regretted it.
"No, you aren't are you," She said standing. Why did his foot fit so perfectly in his mouth?
"Hey, Michelle, wait," he tried to apologize.
"Sleep fast Sergeant," She said, back to her stony bitch exterior. Shit. She was gone. He just shook his head. Stop talking Eddy, less change to cram the whole frackin' foot in there, he thought to himself.
Dark. It was Dark. It took him a moment to realize that very very simple fact. He was alive. Wasn't he? For long moments all he could hear was his breath, then slowly, as if a deep spring fog was lifting other sounds came to him, alarms, distant. His world opened up. The darkness lightened. The black was replaced with a confusing grey. He made out images, people that he knew. He thought he knew them.
"Commander!" the man shouted in his face, barely a whisper. He looked anxious, almost panicked. Who was he? He looked familiar.
"Commander!" Kurtz screamed, Rains' hearing coming back quickly. Everything came back quickly, suddenly, as if a switch had been turned on in his mind. He blinked rapidly and sat up on the deck.
"Report," He commanded, the distant sound of his own voice strange to him. He felt his head. There didn't seem to be any pain. He remembered the explosion, the jump, being thrown to the ground.
"We've taken some radiological damage. The EMC is down right now. We jumped clear just as it went off." Kurtz helped him into the center seat. Rains' hearing slowly came back.
"Corpsman, over here," the XO said. The kid couldn't have been more than twenty-five. He touched Rains' forehead and the CO flinched back. So, he had banged something. The dullness in his head was leaving though.
"Radiological?" Rains asked, brushing the corpsman off. He needed to see a damage control map.
"Nothing concussive, thank the Gods," Kurtz said. He pointed at the DC board, which was green. "But radiological sensors picked up a spike. We've all taken a small dose. The kids in the magazine though..." He just shook his head.
"How?"
"Not sure yet, but they got..." Kurtz looked down, took a deep breath, shook his head.
"They're not dead yet?" Rains asked. Oh no. He'd heard stories about radiation poisoning. It wasn't a pleasant way to go.
"Conn, EM. We've got limited passive capability back."
"EM, Conn, aye," Kurtz said into the intercom, obviously glad to have something to get off the subject of the magazine crew.
"We need engineers in the magazine. I need to know if we can work in there. Are those kids out of there?" Rains asked, bringing them back to the subject at hand.
"They're in the showers. I detailed the bravo watch to scrub 'em down. ChEng is going over the magazine."
"Get the heads together in the wardroom in ten, get out there and be seen," Rains ordered. "Pass the word personally and let the crew see you doing it. I've got things here."
Kurtz lowered his voice, "You sure I should go?" He asked.
"Yeah. I'll do a circuit after the meeting. I need to know what's going on outside right now," Rains said. It was important for the crew to see one of them right now, but Rains needed to get a handle on the tactical situation.
"Alright," Kurtz said and headed off to gather the department heads.
"Nav, where are we?" Rains asked turning to the plot table.
"We're in the Oert clod of Picon," the Navigation officer reported. "We're at least two AU's from the closest significant body." Rains thought about that for a second. Not the best place to be. Not bad. There wasn't anything out here. They wouldn't stick out too much, except maybe their thermal signature.
"Plot me a jump into the system. I'd like to be sitting 2 million k from Jericon if push comes to shove," He said. The radiation from the system's gas giant would give them a bit more cover to hide in, if they needed to hide. "You have to Conn," He said. EMC was his next stop.
It was chaos. The techs were working with engineers restoring their consoles. Rains caught Heinz's attention.
"How goes Lieutenant?" he asked.
"We're getting there," Heinz said. "The nuke blew out damn near every console. I think the receivers themselves are okay, but the amps and gross filters... we've only got so many spares sir."
"What about the BARQ?" Rains asked. The BARQ what the heart of the EM system, taking in electro-magnetic signals from all of the various receivers on the ship and filtering things down so that the specialists could make sense of what was coming in.
"It looks fine, we've run a quick diagnostic and things check out, but we've only brought the extra-centimeter receivers back on-line so far. Filters for those weren't too bad. Above centimeter... I don't know. Things may be too noisy for the BARQ to handle." The Chief working on one of the monitors was nodding his head as he pulled bits out of the console.
"Keep at it. Department heads getting together in," Rains looked at his watch, "Five." He headed out for the wardroom.
They'd been lucky, damned lucky. The question was how did whoever know where they were so soon? Athens was designed with stealth in mind. She didn't return much of a radar signal, she didn't give off much heat, she didn't have much of any emissions to speak of. So how had someone localized them?
"Weps and ChEng will be a little late," Kurtz said walking into the ward room, he closed the hatch behind him. "We're worse off than we thought."
Rains felt a little numb, whatever adrenaline had been in his system was wearing off. "What have you got?" he asked.
"The magazine in usable in shifts, but... we aren't going to be working in there anytime soon. ChEng has isolated the compartment to keep the radiation from spreading."
"This is all from the attack? We didn't crack one of our own did we?" Rains asked.
Kurtz shook his head, "I don't know yet. Part of the reason ChEng is gonna be late, he's still going over the magazine with a radiometer." This could be bad. If they couldn't work in the magazine they couldn't re-load the missile tubes. If they had to work in radiation gear in there it would slow reloading down.
"The crew?" Rains asked.
"Spooked. Getting Bravo shift involved in helping the magazine crew may have been a bad idea."
"They would have found out anyway," Rains motioned for the XO to open the hatch.
"Picon STC, this is Picon Connection 998 with you on 556.234," Rachel said as space returned to normal after the jump. The ride out from Caprica's atmosphere and gravity well had been uneventful. The pills the Doc had given her had done the job, no more barfing in the bathroom.
"Picon STC, this is Picon Connection 998 with you on 556.234," she repeated. Sometimes it took the wireless a minute to work right after a jump.
"We have local traffic at 290 mark 42," James said looking at their DRADIS. "Range, 3k."
Rachel looked out the window almost involuntarily. There was no way she'd see whatever was out there. Old habit, you wanted to get visual confirmation.
"Picon 998 this is United Heavy 436, welcome to the party."
"Say again?" Rachel asked.
"We jumped in two minutes before you. STC is unresponsive this channel," United Heavy 436 said. Aquarion United, now there was a line that paid it's pilots.
"Do we have UOR from Picon?" she asked James. She didn't see any guidance directives on her panel. Flying a manual approach from this far out was not going to be fun. Usually the UOR would give them a fix to navigate from, make things a little easier.
"Negative on that," James said. He was hunting things down now, scanning other frequencies looking for some contact with Picon. The planet it self was within visual range. It didn't quite fill Rachel's field of view, but it was close. They'd have to be on the lookout for the Geosync ring in a few minutes if they didn't get any vectors from STC. She powered on the liner's anti-collision radar. Their DRADIS usually relied on datalinks from other stations and STC to build it's picture.
"United Heavy 436, say position," Rachel asked. She didn't see them on DRADIS.
"We're in lane 3, just passing marker 4." United 436 said. Approach this far out was divided into lanes, imaginary boxs a hundred kilometers square that liners got assigned into so that they could navigate without chance of running into each other. The markers represented where you were in the lane.
"Wilco," Rachel said, "We're in lane 7, marker 2." That put them what, 10000 km behind United. So what was the local traffic? Rachel switched over to the Guard channel on the radio.
"No, left left, break!" a voice screamed over the radio. What the hell? Her heart skipped a beat. James looked over to her suddenly, his eyes large.
"Get out of there Starburst, get... Ahhhhrg bzzzzzt."