Book 4 Chapter 14: “The Rest Stop”
Admiral Eva Lawson walked into CIC feeling satisfied. They had disrupted a large Cylon task force and destroyed most of the ships. These that were not destroyed incurred heavy damage.
Standing in CIC, she stood with a pencil between two of the fingers of her right hand. She twirled the pencil several times before speaking.
“The next trick we need to pull out of a hat is fuel.”
A young woman, wearing pilots wings and LT rank pins stepped forward with a tablet in one hand and a paper map in the other “I assumed you wanted the busiest target within the jump range. We had several good choices.” He pointed. “This one has a tylium refinery. We have recon photos and can do a combat jump in 10 minutes.”
“You are who?” Lawson asked.
“Lieutenant junior grade Sharon Aercheron. Major Jacobs was exposed to the sunspot he’s in isolation Sir.”.
“Are you related to the famous first war admiral?” Lawson asked casually.
“Great grand daughter,” she answered.
3 hours later
“The fleet reports, ready for combat jump.” LT Aecheron reported.
“Jump the fleet,” Lawson ordered.
“Contacts Sir, we jumped in right on top of them Sir.”
“Complete the combat launch. Helm crash turn to port, as per the battle plan. Make sure the Solaria is on the wireless.”
“Possible nuke! Target off the port bow! Trying for a collision course.” Lieutenant Aecherson warned.
“Weapons free. Forward batteries to salvo mode.”
0-5:00
0-300
“Target Starboard. Revenant gunship.”
“Fleet hard right,eh starboard! Salvo mode for the pod mounted guns!”
“We have spotted some heavy raiders, they may try a boarding admiral,” warned Lieutenant Aecheron.
“Usually 1 of the 4 squadron slots on the Cerberus carrier has heavy raiders for boarders, or wardrivers for hacking. I am not too worried about hacking with HG on duty. Let’s make it rough on the toasters with continued S turns. That will take advantage of the broadside capabilities of the Solaria.”
“Yes Sir. Solaria acknowledges.”
“Another signal on the other side of the Cylon jamming. Ninety percent certainty of a Defender class ship. About sixty percent certainty on a Celestra class supply vessel.”
“If they call us on the wireless we need to be very careful. After 4 decades of separation, that could represent classic first war psychological warfare.”
“Admiral, we can sort that out after the battle.”
9:57
300-597
“Looks like we get a minute, minute and a half before the next gunship and then a pair of carriers. Jamming is substantially reduced admiral. Computers have definitely confirmed a Colonial signal near the refinery!”
“Keep those thoughts in a box Lieutenant Aercheron. That is exactly how they would take us off our game, by giving us the first sign of life from New Helios.”
“Yes admiral, right before they spring their trap. Understood. Boxing my hopes.”
“Admiral, Captain James Scott is on the wireless. He has passed recognition tests. He was a viper pilot on the Athena before the lost years. I recognize him. He was a younger cousin!”
“All right, for raptors with marines secure those ships. We can meet Captain Scott in my office. Recover our birds, marines secure that refinery.”
597-1524
9:57-19:57
James Scott was a tall man with a steady gate. He looked around at the repair state of everything he saw, as he was escorted from the hangar deck to Admiral Lawson’s quarters.
He made the mental notes of an engineer as he passed through hallways near the command quarters that were damaged by fire that had reached deep into the battlestar. There were still scorch marks on the walls as the trio of marines that escorted him met the two posted at the door to the commander’s suite.
Scott was a fit man of sixty four years. These marines were very fit. They all seemed to be a head taller than the Defender class ships Captain.
The marines sized him up before opening the door to the suite that served as the office and residence of Admiral Eva Lawson. Each of the marines evaluated him as fit, but no threat to the Admiral.
“Ye have nothing to worry about from me laddies,” Scott spoke with an Aerilon brogue. The marines nodded back silently as men did towards one another, perhaps when they walked outside.
James Scott stood straighter when Admiral Lawson, in a perfectly pressed uniform greeted him at the doorway. The office was neat, showed signs of recent repair, and the glass trophy case had two models in it, one of the Mercury and a mark 7 Viper. The glass was missing, but the glass fragments and other debris had been cleared out.
There was something odd about the admiral, Scott could not place it. She shook hands with him firmly after returning his salute. She seemed tough and fit, like anyone would expect from a woman who had flown Vipers for over two decades.
There was something soft, and guarded. Scott could not quite place the feeling in his mind.
Then there was a squeal from his cousin Sharon. “Scottie!” she shouted and moved comfortably into a hug.
“Wee Sharon, ye haven’t aged a day, but nearly 40 years have passed.”
“You look pretty good for an old fart ye do lad,” Aercheron let a bit of an accent into her voice.
“So what is your secret to have not aged a day in four decades?” Scott asked.
“Pearson’s theory of relativity Scottie,” Aercheron smiled as Lawson led them to a couch in the office. “We got hit with a nuclear EMP as we jumped. The FTL field collapsed and ejected us straight into a sun at near light speed. There was no time to make repairs and another jump to fix it. We swung around the STL’s and burned them at 120 percent to slow us down!”
“I take it that the four worlds in New Helios have survived,” the admiral asked casually. “How many souls are there now?”
His brogue got thicker when he answered. “Nearly thirty million lass, I mean admiral, thanks to you. Operation magic trick was a great success. Yer birthday is a holiday now lass, I mean admiral.”
It was dinner time, and after some excitement, a meal was served. Lawson acted casually, letting Scott give the rundown of the past 4 decades. The politics made the admiral stiffen a bit. Finding out that Corey Brooks was alive but out of office tugged her two ways.
On the one hand, she and Brooks had often crossed swords as it can be described. Yet the thought of reporting to a Colonial president who had last been a teenager when Lawson had seen the child was what was for her a month ago.
“There will be a couple of issues of course. Vice Admiral Evan’s recently retired.” Scott spoke casually as if discussing the weather. Then he took notice of Admiral Lawsons rank insignia. “Yer still a rear admiral sir. I imagine the politicians are going to have to make you a five star admiral to be head of the fleet.”
Admiral Eva Lawson had not even thought about how the military would grow during her decades of absence. She had been forced to get her ideas and plans approved by Corey Brooks, because that was what a military officer had to do.
She had encouraged her officers to be frank with her and challenge her intellectually. Being anything but the top of the chain of command was a completely foreign concept to her.
When the subject of the Cylons came up, it was confusing.
“I have no access to intelligence, but as far as the president puts it, we’ve heard very little from the Cylons in decades. We were sent out lightly armed as far as I know because there has been very little contact with them.”
“We are a long way from New Helios. Is there a network up that we can use to get a message there?” Lawson poured the man a second glass of Whiskey.
“Aye that would be us. We travel on a circuit for a couple of months. We visit drop boxes for data packets from other locations. We tried to build a network after it disappeared, but it was not very successful.”
“I wish we could take this refinery with us,” Lawson lamented. “It seems we are three hundred thousand light years from New Helios. It would be nice to not get shot at when we arrive.”
“Oh, we can take the refinery with us lass. We’ve developed seven upgrades to the Cylon FTL gear we were using 40 years ago. That refinery is a wee bit out of the way, but in order to complete our mission and bring home the three battlestars, we were always going to need to fill up on fuel.”
Lawson leaned back, a glass of whiskey in her hand, that she never put to her lips. “Well then Captain Scott. Lets get this station set up with FTL gear, top off our tanks and leave this rest area.”
“Aye Admiral. That we shall.”
1524-1682
25:24-28:02
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