Word Count: 2,420
Minus 2 years – Fall of the Colonies
Looking from the observation deck on the BSG-75 GALACTICA, Chief Petty Officer Tyrol is beyond amazement at the sight of seeing and being part of a tight combat formation of 21 Grand Battlestars. “I must have died and gone to the Lords of Kobol!” CPO Tyrol says to Master Chief Atwell.
Ensign Zak Adama stands beside his father, Commander William Adama in the reviewing stand on the observation ship. As the Battlestar air groups begin to fly by in review, “ Next week it will be my turn with my own wings pin on my chest. ” Zak comments. “Me, part of three hundred years of family tradition of military…Hey, I think that is Lee’s viper!” He points to a mark VII viper.
Inside a Battlestar’s information center, “All stop, sir” reports the Helms officer to Colonel Paul Tigh.
“Very good, Ensign.” Tigh replies, as he turns to the Communication Specialist.
“Specialist, inform Squadron control, Galactica, Standing By.”
“Yes, sir,” said the Specialist.
Vice Admiral Durcell, stands at the podium.
“Mr. President, Members of the Council, Senators and Representatives, Fellow officers of the Fleet, and Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the commissioning ceremony of our newest Battlestar of the Colonial Fleet.” Raising his hand toward the floating dry dock to his left. Bright lights turn on to illuminate the new Battlestar.
“The BSG-214 will become the one hundred and twenty-third Battlestar in active service. She will join the line with of all our other Grand Battlestars,” the admiral turns with his arm extent toward the view of Grand Battlestars in formation behind him.
“It has been 39 years since the designation BSG, Grand Battlestar, has been assigned to a ship of the Fleet. A Grand Battlestar is our largest type, heavy class Battlestar, with a great arsenal of weaponry that could lay awesome destruction on enemy ships and positions. The BSG-214 will join the honor roll of our other active Grand Battlestars, such as those that represent the flags of each colony: BSG-74 Constellation, BSG-75 Galactica, BSG-78 Olympia, BSG-89 Pegasus, BSG-91 Pacifica, and BSG-92 Atlantia, BSG-101 Rycon, BSG-102 Triton, BSG-124 Acropolis, BSG-127 Poseidon, BSG-128 Argo, and BSG-130 Promotheus. This new Grand Battlestar is an example of our commitment to protecting the Colonies. In the next few months, she will be joined by two other new Grand Battlestars, the BSG-215 Solaria and the BSG-216 Columbia. The defense of our way of life, our freedom, depends on our forces staying fit and modern.
Thirty-eight years since the armistice was declared, a state of cease-fire has existed between our Colonies and the Cylons. The Cylons have not been seen or heard from since. There is no peace treaty.” Admiral Durcell pauses, to let that statement sink in.
William Adama, commander of the BSG-75 Galactica, nods his head in agreement.
Admiral Durcell continues, “We do not know the intention of the Cylons, they have simply disappeared. We post a senior officer, at the remote Armistice space station, so we can meet and maintain diplomatic relations with the Cylons. Every month, for 38 years, those senior officers have reported back, ‘ NO CONTACT’… We have no diplomatic relationship with the Cylons. Our peace is an illusion; it’s a timed game meant to weaken our resolve. We must not fool our selves and count on the best intentions of the Cylons. We only live because we are PREPARED FOR WAR, NOW. The Cylons are out there, and one day they will be back.”
The newly appointed Education Secretary, shakes her head, and thinks to her self, ‘Typical Military’.
“So today we commission our newest Grand Battlestar, with her sister Battlestars on the line. The distinguish name of MERIDIUS is being reassigned to the BSG-214 in honor of BS/A-49. We honor that Battlestar and her crew, who were lost in a selfless act of Bravery, in the pivotal Battle of Felix Base…”
Commander William Adama takes in a deep breath…
…Minus 43 years – Fall of the Colonies.
In orbit above Geminion colony, a transport shuttle is on final approach to the port carrier pod of the BSG-75 Galactica. “Galactica control/ Solaria Tango six-zero-two, I have the ball, port side, over.”
“Tango six-zero-two/ Control, Roger that, your glide path is spot on, port side. Out.”
T-602 glides into the hanger bay, slows down to rotate 90 degrees and touches down easy on a landing pad. The transport shuttle degases its thrust nozzles and the elevator begins to descend.
On board, the operations officer of the BS/A-49 MERIDUIS walks into a crowded conference room, where a operations briefing is taking place… “Preliminary intelligence reports that Cylon forces are massing resources outside this system,” the Task Force 3’s Staff Intelligence Officer (S-2) high lights the location on an overhead space chart, “we will designate that site as Charlie 2 Golf.”
“It indicates that they are preparing an offensive thrust into Germinion territory. The S-2 section, after careful review of this data believe that the enemy will maneuver forces to attack during Germinion Minor’s passing into Germinion Prime’s shadow. This shadow transition will begin in two standard days. It is during this moon’s shadow phase that Germinion’s solar power plants will shut down, and the colony will then depend on limited power. As a result, the colony will become vulnerable to attack for the next 3.5 standard weeks.” The S-2 pauses to take a drink of water, and observes his audience stir.
“Some may wonder why Germinion is limited to solar power plants. Six months ago, as precaution mainframe computers were ordered shut down in colony, to avoid mishaps such as nuclear plant meltdowns. The order was given to shut down because of increasing combat engagements near to this system. A few Cylon recon probes near Germinion could have detected the nuclear power plants offline. It would then logically occur to the Cylon mainframe, that this colony would be ripe for invasion. This shift of enemy forces on the front has been a long expected move.
As you can see in your brief binder, on page 8, is a summary of recent forward observer reports. The most current reports had found that the Cylons have moved two more Basestars into staging area C-2G. Adding up to ten Basestars with up to forty cylon warships of varying classes, and other smaller support ships.” Another pause by the S-2 officer, to let those in the room, have a chance to briefly look over that summary.
“Damn,” Captain Adama says under his breath, “That’s means more than a 1000 cylon raiders.”
The S-2 continues, “Another significant sighting, came in an hour ago.” The S-2 holds up a clipboard with a message. “Twelve large Centurion Transport ships are en route to the Cylon staging area C-2G. Those transports are being escorted by three Basestars.”
“Double Damn,” Captain Adama, says to himself, “1300 cylon raiders!”
“Those 12 Centurion Transports together have a capacity to carry an invasion force of 120,000 Centurions soldiers.” S-2 points to slide projected on the wall, with a photo of a Large Centurion Transport. “Add other 26,000 Centurions from the 13 Basestars, we are now looking at an invasion force close to 150,000.”
A very loud muffle of responses could be heard among the officers in the room.
“Now, that might be a problem.” Marine Colonel Gary Hayes tells his Brigade commander.
Brigadier Doug Reilly with a serious face, “Correction Colonel. Not a problem, its only 150,000 walking beer kegs with a bad attitude.”
“I’m corrected, sir.” smiles Colonel Hayes.
“Hold your comments down,” the S-2 reprimands the crowd, and waits for their attention.
He continues with emphasizes, “Task Force 3 has been given the mission to defend, this sub-system with assets on hand. Reinforcements, from other Fleet assets cannot be spare to strengthen our task force for another two weeks. Other Friendly Forces available to us is from the Germinion Militia and Maritime Merchant forces.
S-2 points to a new slide with figures from the quartermaster. “Our current war stores, can sustain our task force for 60 days of medium level engagements. The bad news, Task Force 3 is at 78% strength, with only six Battlestar groups. Our task force wings are in worst shape at 60% strength.” S-2 breaks to shift his tone.
“Back to a some positive points, the Cylons have not much improved on tactics. They are redundant and maneuver base on logical choices. They are still as predictable as a machine can be. It is all a numbers game at this point. Lets not forget, they are still capable to pull a surprise once in while; like when a Viper engine power surges, in a launch tube when you do not want to.” S-2 warns the room.
“I will now turn over the briefing to the Commander of Task Force 3, Rear Admiral Jim Suntrup…
“All check, chief,” in the glow of a red light a crewman in an EVA suit hand signals.
The EVA chief turns a handle inside the air lock and the outside hatch slides opens. The airlock compartment is suddenly bathed in the light from the blue-green gas giant, Germinion Prime. Beyond the hatch the dark silhouette of the top aft of the SOLARIA fills the horizon. The blinking of EVA strobe lights can be seen here and there, with the occasional flashes of arc light welding.
Captain Russell Lee “Rain Man” Adama and Senior Lt. Henry “Spot” Crane, his assistant air wing commander, walk out of the Galactica’s conference room after the end of the operations briefing.
“Sounds like we will have to earn our pay in the next few days.” Lt. Crane said to Captain Adama, who does not hear his comment.
“Commander Hayes, Sir” Adama said, to get his commander’s attention, the Commander of BSG-61 SOLARIA, “You wanted to speak to me.”
Commander Max Hayes, stops to turn to face Adama, “Oh, yes, Captain. I think you have family aboard this ship, is that correct?”
“Yes sir, my younger brother, Will,” Said Captain Adama.
Commander Hayes turns to Crane, “Lt. Crane, were you here for the whole briefing?”
“Yes, sir” snaps Crane.
“Good, take over for Captain Adama for a few hours, when you return to the SOLARIA, and start work on a Wing plan for this operation,” Commander Hayes orders.
“Yes, sir commander” Crane nods, and turns to get to the hanger bay.
“Not a word, Captain” Commander Hayes said, before Adama could open his mouth.
“Listen, I want you visit your brother for a while. I know how rare these opportunities for reunions can be in time of war. I had a visit with my younger brother for few hours before this briefing; I had not seen him in over three years. He is a Marine, assigned to the MERIDIUS Assault Group,” Commander Hayes pauses. “Captain, you know our mission. We are going to get into a nasty fight in the next few days. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, understood,” Captain Adama gives in, “Thank you, sir.”
“Good, I see you back on the SOLARIA tonight.” With that Hayes walks to one of his waiting staff officers.
Two Mark II Vipers with Galactica markings rendezvous with two other similar Mark II’s in the deep of space. They maneuver to form a four-ship wedge and turn together. Heading towards a distant blue-green sphere with a thin silver ring.
Captain Adama passes through a hatch marked ‘BSG-75 WING OP’s’
“Good afternoon, Ensign” said Captain Adama, to the duty officer digging through a file cabinet.
“Sorry, Sir. I did not see you come in. We just received a warning order for a big operation. I was just getting some things together for a staff meeting,” the Ensign explained.
In walks in a female Captain, the Galactica’s Wing Commander, with a briefing binder in her hand behind Adama.
Captain Adama reading the junior officers name tag. “I know, Ensign Todd. Can you, please, tell me where I can find Ensign William Adama?
Ensign Todd repeats, “Ensign Adama… ‘Husker’! He is assigned to Delta Squadron.”
“Hey ‘Rain Man’”, the female greets Adama, “Husker, is in good hands with the ‘Big D’.
Adama turns around to shake hands with Captain Melissa Young, “Tiger, I would think so.”
Giving each other a hardy hand shake, Adama says,” I did not see you in the briefing room.”
“That’s because I was not there. Some one had to make sure the bad guys did not crash our party. I’m the acting executive officer of Galactica, until the XO returns tomorrow. He was wounded in our last big scrap with the Cylons, he had to go down to Germinion to get fitted for an artificial leg.”
“Loosing a leg…” Adama was cut off.
“No, the XO lost his leg when he was five. He damaged his metal leg, when a bulkhead gave way to sudden decompression and was he sucked out with his damage control party.” Said Young. “Anyway, my commander told me you would be looking for your brother and I am to make sure you find him.”
“Toad, check the duty roster” Young orders Ensign Todd.
Looking on a clipboard with a ‘Big D’ on the cover sheet. “Husker is on patrol status. One moment, Sir.” Ensign Todd turns his head to his right to look on the wall with a number of charts; next he looks at the time. “Sirs, he should be back from patrol in 30 minutes.”
“Thank you, Toad,” Young turns to Adama.
“Rain Man, you are welcome to meet him in ‘Big D’s’ ready room.”
“I’ll wait for him in the O’ club. How about a drink, Tiger?”
“I wish I had the time to join you, but I have to review these briefing notes.”
“Ok, next time.”
“Sure, you’re buying,” Tiger smiles. “I’ll catch you in the rain, Rain Man.”
“Sir, I’ll make sure Husker knows to meet you at the officer’s club,” said Todd.
Lifting off from Felix Base, two Colonial Lander Ships, LAH-354 BOLO CRATER and LD-6307 PELE VI, set course to Germinion Minor. Inside the hold of BOLO CRATER, a Colonial Marine Private walks along a column of 8 wheel-armored vehicles, checking tie down straps.
This is a work in progress I wanted to get a preview of my fan fiction out before I go way on business. Please, free to comment on my fan fiction, or point out any grammatical errors. Email: email@example.com.