Commander Eva Lawson as a little disoriented when she awoke in the bedroom section of the commanders quarters. Her left hand reached to the other side of the bed, which she had shared with Cavil the Cylon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This was the attractive, handsome older man with a rugged intellectual look who gave her everything she needed. Lawson brushed her jet black, curly hair from blocking her eyes. She thrashed slightly and sat up, suddenly aware of the presence of another person in the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A voice whispered in her head. It reminded her of her grandmother, the famous first war Admiral. \u201cThe Cylons look like us now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She turned in a dreamlike state, quickly looking to her right. \u201cYea,\u201d Cavil the Cylon said, \u201cone of them was frakking the commander.\u201d There was a large, disembodied laugh echoing through out the ship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eva Lawson’s eyes snapped open. Then a low quality intercom voice spoke. \u201cRevelry revelry it’s 0500 hours on the Battlestar Mercury.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She took a breath, suddenly feeling cold. Instinctively she clutched the blankets and pulled them to her chest like a scared little girl.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A short, skinny dark skinned private was in fact standing at the end of her bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt’s 0500 hours Sir. Skids up on your visit to the Battlestar Eagle is in 45 minutes Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson stretched out in a long, luxurious stretching yawn that seemed to last for five minutes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her mind remembered. The Eagle, on forward patrol. Independent thinking commanding officer who needed to understand why orders needed to be obeyed. \u201cRight,\u201d she remembered the rank pin. Her eye had focused on it for a moment. \u201cPrivate um…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPrivate Rice Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell. Right. Rice. I am going to need a shower before w fly. Rice you are assigned to me as my aide.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don’t like having a crew member all up in my business.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The 18 year old, looked very self confident. \u201cSorry Sir,\u201d she stood as tall as she could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo you are here to make sure I don’t frak another \u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes answered Private Rice, I am here to make sure you don’t end up in bed fracking the enemy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGood Lords’s\u201d Lawson said. \u201cThey are making them pretty fresh right now. Down in front. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson had moved frog style to the end of the bed. Her legs were draped over the edge. The private was standing right in front of her commander. Lawson look annoyed and gestured indicating she needed some space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you need any help getting out of bed commander?\u201d she asked earnestly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A scathing remark came to mind, but Lawson took a deep breath and simply communicated with hand signals. Several seconds later the private stood back a few steps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Life seemed to speed up after that. Today was the first time in months she had slept in the traditional Colonial Fleet issue tee shirt. She could feel he presence of the private slut shaming her as she peeled off her clothing and slipped into the shower, which of course Rice had running for her at the perfect temperature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As she woke from a micro nap, strapped into her seat in the back of the raptor, she remembered the long, luxurious shower. She felt an itch, but stopped herself from reaching up and banging her hand on her helmet. Then an idea came to mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She needed some flight time anyway. She reached up and went on intercom with her finger. \u201cHold on sausage,\u201d she said. \u201cSwitch seats. I need some stick time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sausage and Farmer looked at each other. Everyone knew the commander maintained her flight rating. There was nothing for them to do except say \u201cYes Sir\u201d and for Sausage to give up his seat. This mission was punishment for a Viper jock. He knew he needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Major Maria Ramirez, XO of the Battlestar Mercury feeling pretty good when she walked into CIC at 7 a ships time two hours before she as due. A well built Marine was keeping pac with her stride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had set an alarm for 5 a.m. Having met with this Marine, Sargent Johnson and discussed some of the issues aboard ship. She was not a pilot, command officers tended to give their respect to pilots.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From 5 a.m. t 6 a.m she had gone another round with the ships AI in large ship combat. It had gone well for her, before sine trigger happy Nemsis had snuck up and pumped two nukes into the Mercury.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had learned something from the investment of time. There were a great many lessons to be learned from defeat. The next thing she had done was spend an hour in the VR suite learning to fly Vipers. She was determined to gain the respect of the crew. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
She walked into CIC with her huge marine keeping pace, her uniform hanging loose on her. The stress of losing her entire family on Tauron and the responsibility of command had melted the weight off her once curvy body. Pretty soon it would go to far this weight drop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAll right,\u201d she approached and focused her eyes on the deck officer who was an injured pilot restrcited from flight duty. \u201cSITREP.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The pilot looked as if he was ready to make remark. It pained him that this IT geek had been made XO over many qualified pilots. Tradition was being thrown out the door. It was a terrible thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ramirez knew the look, stepped closer to the pilot and whispered in his ear. \u201cMake the frakking report or tiny here will shoot you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe have no Cylon activity at this time. The Cylon relay you hacked two days ago, continues to relay our comms signals and operate normally.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHas the commander reached the Eagle yet?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNegative Sir,\u201d the pilot replied sheepishly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShift change,\u201d a private said clearly, waiting for people to change the CIC shift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a beep followed by a few more. The ceiling mounted monitor which was showing a feed of the DRADIS display screen from the Eagle went dark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Major Ramirez was a bit surprised as the display remained dark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe have lost contact with the Eagle Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ramirez knew the next trick would be to try and send some fake symbol to make them hesitate to engage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The were three sets of warning beeps. \u201cDRADIS contact, Ramirez replied knowing what came next, if not how many.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThree Argos class base stars, three support ships. War book says Hydra.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCondition one now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
With the press of a button everything went dark, red combat lighting came on. The klaxon began waiting a second later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCAG wants to know when we are launching.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPrepare to jump the ship. Hold launch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The pilot walked towards Ramirez spoke forcefully as the command to insert the jump key sang out. \u201cI don’t want to get shot or anything but the Peoples Council lists thirteen thousand refugees at three locations in this system.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSignal fleet command for help. Hard to port, lets get ready to show them some flak.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe have six hundred raiders inbound,\u201d the DRADIS NCO reported. \u201cThe CAG wants to know why we aren’t launching.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf he asks that question again I will send tiny here to shoot him in his cockpit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThree more contacts. Colonial transponders. Two Janus cruisers and a Ranger. Munition manifest on screen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTell command to send a Battlestar. Direct the Janus to put maximum firing rate on the nearest target that is slow and large.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAye Major,\u201d a young NCO with short blond hair acknowledged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ramirez grabbed the plotting table in CIC as the centrifugal force of a crash turn nearly knocked her off her feet. Several camera feeds showed missiles going out toward the Cylons along with inbound munitions. \u201cAll batteries auto fire. PCM fire right detonate at minimum distance to detonate inbound munitions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Someone then shouted, repeating her orders. At that moment Major Maria Ramirez computer geek from Tauron knew she was in command of the Battlestar Mercury.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The ship shook as the three ships poured munitions into the flak field, hoping to overwhelm it and get some shots in. First the flight pods would be hit, then the right side armor would be stripped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOrder our friends to open fire on the slowest biggest target and not to stop until it melts.\u201d Ramirez was tapping a pen on the console, waiting for a response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey are firing Sir.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the auxiliary monitors showed the trail of heavy missiles moving across the sky from the two ancient Janus type cruisers toward the enemy force. It looked like a powerful response.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMajor! More inbound missiles!\u201d Shouted a nervous NCO.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRight twenty degrees,\u201d Ramirez said in a steely voice. \u201cLets gradually get the big guns to bear.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cArgos down!\u201d shouted a tactical officer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTarget, Center axis. Soon as we have a firing solution.\u201d Ramirez ordered. She looked down at a tactical display on a tablet computer she cradled in her hansd.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAye solution in 38 seconds.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTwo more salvos’s inbound!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFull defensive posture,\u201d Ramirez ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBrace!\u201d someone shouted. The deck rolled under their feet and the echo of shrapnel hitting the outer armor of the Battlestar, rose steadily until nobody’s voice could be heard. As the salvo ended, the noise abated and people stopped shouting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cArgos down,\u201d announced an unseen voice. There was cheering until two more salvos were unleashed from the remaining two Argos carriers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnother 15 degrees right,\u201d Major Ramirez ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStarboard,\u201d someone whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStarboard, ready the main guns,\u201d the major ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For another 29 seconds, the roar of another pair of salvos drowned out verbal communications.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWeapons free,\u201d Ramirez ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFiring solution!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The roar of the forward guns filled their ears. Another inbound missile salvo joined it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cArmro bravo!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe are taking some hull damage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cArgos down. One to go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
‘\u201dAdjust course to how him a different armor face,\u201d Ramirez ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cArgos down.\u201d Just like that, the noise ended. The silence was interrupted by cheering and clapping.<\/p>\n\n\n\n