Commander Richard Allen was actually the XO on the Battlestar Vulture before the Cylon war. He had been a Major, fifty years old and satisfied with his rank. This Battlestar had suffered a complete computer systems failure, three weeks before the Cylon assault. They had been out in this Valkyrie class ship looking for new sources of Tylium.
The Navigation computer system which was used to calculate FTL jump points, was rebuilt lovingly by the engineering crew. They were a good 20 jumps away from the Colonies, and it had taken 27 days to recover from failures and arrive back at Picon.
They jumped into the middle of a Cylon Base Star formation, which had been unable to fire immediately for they would likely destroy each other.
After weeks of dumping around, making hit and run attacks, they had finally run into other ships that formed the New Colonial fleet before the Mercury had joined them.
Commander Bennington had been promoted on the fast track to take the Saturn, before he was killed by a Cylon ambush.
Richard Allen had been made commander, and made his mark in several battles over the course of the second Cylon wars. The purpose of the Valkyrie class battlestar was to support larger formations. Over the past year Vulture had flown support for every Mercury class ship in the fleet.
Now he had been given a fleet. The Solaria was part of his task force, using its flak field to protect the civilian ships in the fleet. The mission orders involved making strikes at 10 different refineries and fuel dumps over the course of ten days. The mission was to cause the Cylons a fuel crisis so they would be unable to follow the Colonial fleet.
He stood in his cramped CIC, having refused to move his flag to the larger Jupiter class battlestar.
“Commander,” his XO, a short, stocky woman with thick glasses and white hair reported. “All ships report ready to jump.” Her call sign was “Grandma”
“Jump!” Allen ordered.
Combat: “DRADIS Contact. Couple of Cylon light ships.”
Commander Allen: “We got the refinery?”
“Yes Sir.”
“This is Vulture Actual. Launch Vipers.”
Combat: “Recon shows the refinery is full.”
Commander Allen: “Take it out!”
“Yes Sir.”
“This is Vulture Actual. Engage the Target.”
Combat: “More Toasters jumping in.”
Combat: “Three More Toasters jumping in.”
Combat: “We need to recover our vipers and jump out of here.”
Combat: “Cylons are trying to hack our network.”
Commander Allen: “My solution to hacking is to put bullets into the offending party. Usually they stop when they die.”
Combat: “Combat landings are authorized.”
Combat: “FTL. Spooled up. Combat landings!”
Commander Allen: “We have more fuel to blow up!”
Full chapter video (Reminder, this website is canon for this fan fiction series).
Two Cavil Cylon model 1 meet on the surface of New Scorpia.
The town square they are in is burning. Centurions are walking in the buring embers, carrying away bodies.
Both were dressed in black, wearing safari hats against the desert heat.
“Brother, report” Left hand ordered.
“Our undiscovered brother with some nasty plastic surgery is working in their mobile ship yard. We have trackers in every ship that has come in for major maintenance.We get 4 position reports every day.”
Left continued. “Admiral Lawson’s quarters?”
Right answered. “Of the 3 devices you placed Brother 1 still provides some voice conversation when a properly equipped heavy raider is in range. Shall we begin 33 minute attack intervals to continuously provide data?”
“No,” left said. “Continue gathering an ideologically pure fleet. The more we test them, the higher, their combat proficiency rises. We will let them think they got away and hit them after the last jump in the series.”
Right, nodded agreement. “We will wait for them to get sloppy. We know exactly where they plan to meet. We will be waiting for them there. They are trying to create a fuel shortage. By your command.”
Left Cavil laughed. “The shortage will only impact New Caprica.”