Day 747 of the second Cylon war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Admiral Eva Lawson was driven by her objective to contribute to the upcoming assault to liberate New Caprica. She was constantly planning, demanding resources to train their forces,and repair the fleet. Right now the Mercury was undergoing a frantic one week overhaul in the mobile shipyard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The shipyard was desperately short of workers and had been expanded to nearly the size of the Scorpia shipyards. Rebuilt as the colonies were being abandoned in the second exodus, what had started out as a broken salvage yard, was once again building ships. So acute was the shortage of living space in the fleet, the prospect of a bunk that was not shared with two or three other people did attract nearly 6500 workers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The problem of course was that the demands of the war fleet had production schedules that would have required 12,000 workers. So in fact the price of your own bunk, and not being in the military getting shot up by war, were days that averaged 12 hours of work, and often hit the legal limit of 16 hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This was a far more civilized form of existence than the 4000 miners. They jumped from planet to planet with overworked mining ships. Stripped of adequate escort by the logistics war meant often beating a hasty retreat from harsh mining sites after being discovered by a Cylon patrol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson sat at her desk in her office, going over her requests for more time and material and workers to further scale up the offensive. She had assumed that Peoples Council Leader Cory Brooks could not get aboard Mercury for another meeting because the flight pods were blocked by scaffolding for this hasty repair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mercury had been hit by so many nukes, that parts of the frame needed to be exposed and rebuilt, particularly the flight pods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cory Brooks, was dressed in a modest designer peach colored blouse and light brown skirt, that fit her thin frame perfectly. Major Sam Jones had escorted her from the docking port that she had disembarked from a raptor at to the door, just outside of Lawson’s office.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jones was smart enough not to ask, but he wondered how the woman had managed to obtain closets full of expensive, designer clothing. With every bit of labor being put into the offensive against the Cylons, he hardly believed that there was a clandestine fashion industry being run by Capricans in their spare time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jones buzzed the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson’s voice crackled through the battered speaker. \u201cWho is it? I don’t have any meetings.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPeoples Council Leader Cory Brooks to see the Admiral.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow the frak!\u201d Lawson spat before remembering to take her finger off the microphone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOpen it now!\u201d Brooks ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI take orders from the Admiral,\u201d Jones protested.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Realizing the door was unlocked, Brooks pressed the button and the door opened and she strode inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson, frustrated at not having evaded the meeting, did not stand up for the civilian governments top executive. At least the highest official of the government not trapped on New Caprica. The Admiral knew and respected the limits of military authority as annoying as Brooks was on a day to day basis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fact was, Cory Brooks saved her a lot of tedious meetings concerning civilian affairs. This was much better than a military dictatorship. All you had to do was scrounge up the food, fuel and other particulars and it was the PC Exec as she was known in military short hand (MilSpeak) and Lawson was saved the trouble of such excitement of labor negotiations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHave a seat,\u201d Lawson gestured. \u201cCan I have my people, which are really your people, get you some coffee or some food?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Brooks ignored the pleasantries and waited for Lawson to stop staring at her laptop before speaking. \u201cI have come to talk to you about last weeks supply and production request.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThen you’ll love this weeks request Madame Council Leader Brooks,\u201d The admiral closed her laptop cover and made eye contact. \u201cI was just going to send you the email.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are consuming ammunition at three times the rate we can produce it. Last weeks fuel consumption report was a ten percent draw down on reserves. Don’t you think we might want to slow down for a while? We are burning out people and supplies at a unsustainable rate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI shared the intelligence with you about Adama and New Caprica,\u201d Lawson answered in an expressionless voice. \u201cWe are going to keep up the pressure on the Cylons until signal intelligence or our Cylon network hack confirm either the escape from New Caprica or the destruction of Adama’s fleet. You did receive the report of the 5 tylium refineries we seized and the ammunition haul seven days ago?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOf course I did. I understand Admiral Adama would not let you help directly. I think his intent was to improve the overall survival chances for humanity. We don’t know if and when the attack is going to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOur agreement was that I make military decisions,\u201d Lawson said. \u201cI’m sending out task force hammer today, hoping to threaten Cylon supply lines. How long will it take you to start producing 8 nukes a week?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are sending out that fleet with 40 nukes,\u201d Brooks said. \u201cThat leaves us with less than a dozen in stock, a few of them date back to the first Cylon war. We are hoping to maintain production at 3 nukes a week, if we can mine adequate supplies of uranium and avoid a strike at the enrichment plant.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI need production to be ramped up the 40 a month.\u201d Lawson’s expression left no doubt that she was not joking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo I have to order you to scale back?\u201d Brooks leaned forward, wondering if a fist fight would break out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAs I understand it, Gaius Baltar is President of the Colonies and Commander In Chief of the military. You have no authority to give orders. You will need to have an election and get elected before we do anything other than mutually agree.\u201d Admiral Lawson looked bored. \u201cI’d be happy to facilitate an election. You aren’t so arrogant as to think you will win are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Brooks banged a hand on the desk, tipping over a Viper Mark VII model. \u201cI could resign and then you will have to deal with thousands of details. You really have time for Milo Renson, head of the shipbuilders union?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson gave a large sigh, shoulders slumping. \u201cNo, all he did last time we met was stare at my chest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Brooks let out a chuckle, a mutual smile breaking the tension. \u201cWhat are you going to do when you run out of nukes?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson deadpanned. \u201cSend out my fleet with torpedoes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Lawson answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are using Cylon FTL now, firing their ammunition except for the monster stuff the three battlestars use. You are burning Cylon fuel. Are you really so tired and burned out that you did not think of perhaps seizing Cylon nukes?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lawson sighed. \u201cCommander Ramirez made the same suggestion. Most of their nukes are smart and networked. We took a pallet during the last raid with Galactica and Pegasus. The supply freighter had to dump the cargo because a small fleet of Cylon Nemesis class warships kept tracking them down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d Brooks said. \u201cI have an idea. That specially shielded cargo ship might be the answer. We have some communications gear we can use to jam the warheads network signals. I will have my tech people work with your Head Geek and we will get it ready. How many planned strikes are you planning with task force hammer? Is their a time table?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAll of that is at Commander Evan’s discretion. He has been given a broad objective and advised to move toward it with a maximum of violence.\u201d Admiral Lawson answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Battlestar Athena: Day 751 of the second Cylon war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCommanders Log. We are in final jump preparation for the first raid in a series ordered by Admiral Lawson. Since meeting with some other unknown Colonial forces, the admiral has been extremely pushy. She wants a lot of violence and she wants it now. Commander Ramirez is in sick bay with the sunspot virus. I fear that successfully executing my orders will draw us a great deal of Cylon attention. Since I have no intel on the mysterious fleet, only rumors, I can only assume that drawing Cylon forces from elsewhere is the point of our orders.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy implementation of my orders is an objective, two plotted jumps away. Admiral Lawson will hopefully be pleased with my plan. The plan is 5 to 10 attacks in a straight line, headed toward what we believe was once the Cylon home world. Too bad we only have the fuel and munitions to make it a fraction of that distance. Hopefully it will help with the Admiral and her bigger picture.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Commander Steven Evans stopped the recording software on his laptop, then closed the computer and prepared to make his way from his office to CIC.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As he walked into CIC, Evans saw the lights went red and heard the alert klaxon. That noise had drilled into his soul. \u201cSITREP.\u201d the commander ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJump key is in and the clock is running,\u201d reported newly assigned Lieutenant. \u201cOffensive weapons are loaded in all ships. All warships report vipers in the tubes ready for a combat jump. Cylon scout ship jumped in and has tried to target us with long range missiles.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cKeep it steady. Continue the count.,\u201d Ordered Evans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBoard is still green on all task force ships. Comms are five by five.\u201d reported a young female ensign from the communications section of the cramped CIC.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAll ships report ready to jump,\u201d the same ensign reported less than a minute later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n