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Sapper looked up
from his latest project. An aldergeant had reported in from the hot action
now going on as the Piracey forces on the right were attampting to overwhelm
the Cylon positions there.
The Sapper could tell from the excited chatters and squeals from
the Aldergeant that events were not going well there. The scent of near-panic
filled the air.
Loxxon was enduring the aldergeant's squealing and firing back
tirades of his own, "You had superior numberss, storm their
position," more squeals, "You did? But Metalloid dirty
trickss!" Now some additional chattering and squawking, "MMoore
Gaentsss? Hold PPosition!!"
And then a wail of squeal from the excited Pugeant alderman,
Loxxon is hissing, "YYouu Tryysh? Forwarsd Posishtions 'ttackked
SSurPrizze? Counter-Attackkk! Thhatt izz thhee Pugeant Way!"
The Panicked AlderGeant is recovering enough that he begins to
speak where the Sapper can understand him, "Wee dooo, buss thheyy beee
gonnn, thhesse Metalloyds knott norrmalll."
"Ditch-Raiding," Sapper talks to himself as he
tightens on an air line to the captured cargo-hauler, "Maybe these
Cylons are not normal."
"Sappmaen!" Loxxon now hisses at the human handyman,
"Youu havve worrds? ReRegurrggitatte!"
The Sapper looks with some wariness to where Loxxon and the
Pugeant Alderman stand, but Loxxon is intent, so Sapper decides to speak,
"I have heard of a tale amongst the humans, in their refreshment bars
and dens of chance, the tale circulates even amongst their Warriors, of a
random series of Centurions amongst the Cylons that must have been a set of
one-offs, somehow this series had better retention and adaptation, and over
the human's yahrens, this set of random blasterd Centurions were able to
combine the fighting techniques from Centurion, Warrior, and other such
cultures to reach a new standard and now Centurions are considered formidable
opponents," Sapper looks down to his work to check that the lines will
hold, "Although the loyalty of the random blasters to the well-being of
their Imperious Leader and their fellow machines has never been been doubted,
these machines get in the way of others in the empire with higher ambitions,
and thus they have been canned and shipped off to the Barren Regions of the
Empire, there to wander until such time asa.."
"Enougghh!" Loxxon forbids Sapper to continue,
"YYourr oldd Warrriorr Taless willl knot panick Pugeant Fighterss,"
Loxxon waves off Sapper,
"WWee hadd wonne at FFirsst, hadd wee hadd the skyye," Loxxon
pauses, "Butte SappMaen, Youu arre Correctk, theese ree mashinnes, I
SShall usse thhat."
Loxxon turn to the AlderGeant, "Gatther reseerves,' Loxxon
orders.
"Too freee thee wright?" the AlderGaent asks
hopefully.
"Thheyy ccann keep the Metaloiddss happy," Loxxon
hiss-scoffs, he picks up one of only a couple captured Cylon laser-rifles,
"I shalll thhee lead final attackks myssself," Loxxon turns to the
handyman, "SappMaen, yyourr projeckt willl helpp, finissh uppp!"
Sapper nods as he remains working on setting up the compressor
to the mortar chamber.
The two Backer-Scouts veer around an asteroid to run a scan on
the large object.
To their shock, the Backer Pilots behold a Cylon basestar
rotating menacingly squarely in their trajectory.
Even worse, a small wall of about two-dozen Raiders are flowing
from the Basestar, right at the Scouts.
"Backer, Backer, This is Scout One!" the Pilot in
Scout one barks into his com, "Time to execute Skid and Get, I repeat,
Skid and Get!"
The Backer was no Viper, built somewhat lower-slung, the weight
was distributed more on the same plane. By the sequential firing of the right
retros and thrusters the two Backers were able to slow on the port side and
rotate a half of a dial until they were facing back to the direction they had
entered from.
The pilots very nearly blacked out from the inertia, as the
Scouts slowed then started forward in the new direction they were headed in.
The Raider-Wall opened up and the first pulsar salvoes began exploding about
the escaping Scouts.
"Backer One, are you in there?" came the question as
the lead StarScout pulled alongside its backerman.
The backer shakes his head, looks over, and gasps, "
Gunn!But I thought.."
Gunn has his visor up and seems content that his backerman is
sentinent,
Gunn speaks, "Report back to our dear Capstan about this little
obstruction we discovered on our journey," and then Gunn chuckles only
slightly, "And be SURE to tell San-Maru to be ready to execute a
Snag-and-Run when I get back, the Capstan will know what I mean."
Abd with that the somewhat bewildered backerman sees Gunn throw
his BackerScout into another skid-manuveur and start back, directly at the
Raider Wall.
The Backerman decides that Gunn's sacrafice would not be in
vain, he drops baffle, and veers away to carry the dispatch of vital
intelligence back to San Maru.
Sacrafice was the furthest thing from Gunn's mind as the
StarScout slewed about in the skidding-mauveur. The inertia again flattned
him before he could begin to feel the reassuring return of forward
motion, and again feel the Backer StarScout repond to his control.
The opening barrage from the Raider Wall was ragged, and a
bit premature. Gunn had reason to suspicion that this particular batch of
Cylons had been one of those that had been rushed straight off of the
production line he had heard of.
And Gunn's hunch was rewarded as the small wall seemed to part
to either side. More experienced Raider crews would have converged, and
relied upon their skill to weave by each other.
Gunn held his fire and careened the Backer up under the Wall and
saw his chance.
Two of the Low Echelon Ships were too close together. Gunn
pointed the Backer at the gap and pressed the firing trigger.
The cannons slung under the wings of the StarScout were not
reknown for their accuracy, but packed a lethal wallop if they connected.
The short burst caught the Raiders on their inside wings and
they blew and rolled away, spraying accompanying Raiders with shrapnel.
Gunn fired the Backer through the gap.
The other Raiders attempted to wheel their Raiders around and
follow Gunn. He already had the Backer into a sttep climb from his plane of
flight.
The Raiders come off into shallower climbs.
Gunn hit the retros to lift the Backer a bit further to let the
Raiders catch up, and then nosed it over like a Hawk.
A Raider to the back filled the sights. Gunn fired the hardball
cannons. The Raider's cockpit exploded and the Raider came apart by halves.
The Basestar had been pulsating on low energy as it rotated at
its assigned station which was to block the approaches to the contested
planetoid from the Cylon side.
The Basestar Comanding Unit was standing at a control panel some
distance from the complimentry throne. A human would be considered perturbed
at this point, the Commanding Unit was overwhelmed by large amounts of
minutae, none of it worth noting. Having two brains was a major disadvantage
at this point, the Commanding Unit suffered at twice the rate of incoming
boredom.
An entrance gong sounded lightly. The Commanding Unit turned to
see the Linguistic-Liason Cylon enter the Command Chamber.
"At Your Command," the Liason Cylon reports in.
"Stand There," is the Commanding Units short response,
the Unit turns back to his control panel, "Observe, Record Compliance of
this Basestar."
The Linguistic Specialist was not prepared for these
instructions. But it would follow that of course the Commanding Unit would
not veiw sentry duty as a choice assignment. And if the Commanding Unit would
have to wallow in a trivial assignment, then for certain, others would be
found for the even more trivial assignments, in this case certifying that the
Regional IL-Series request was being fully complied with.
The Liason watched the Commanding Unit standing at the Control
Panel stiffly, being bombarded by messages of no targets, no change in
condition, status quo antebellum. Probably there was even a report that a
light had been left on in recharging.
But then the Liason sees the Commanding Unit straighten up and
stand for a Centon. Then unecessary lights dim and the alerting tone begins.
Teh Commanding Unit steps back before the conmplimentary throne
and looks up. The situational maps are projected onto the top eight panels of
the Contol Chamber above him, as they are projected onto the control boards
of the Centurions laboring about the circumference of the periphery.
Data is brought in, broken down, and analyzed.
Targets, moving rapidly, are approaching the Basestar.
The targets are moving between covers of space debris so it is
hard to get a firm fix on them. However, the majority of periphery Cylons set
the number at two.
The Command Chamber erupts in a wave of activity. The Commanding
Unit responds to the input. The influx of information and electric is
energizing.
An inquiry is made as to whether the Basestar should issue a
hailing, or a warning towards the approaching vessels.
But then a preliminary identification is being made onto the
targets. A vessel of Cylon origin would have requested permission to approach
the Basestar. The lines were wrong to be a Human vessel or starfighter from
the Colonies. The best match is cross-referenced to the new type of star
scout now being used by the Piracey.
The Commanding Units instructions are instantaneous and without
hesitation, the appraoching targets are to be engaged by the Covering Patrol.
Aperiphery Cylon relays to the Commanding Unit that the covering
Patrol is made up of the latest Raider-crews taken onto the Basestar.
The Basestar Commander notes that the Covering Patrol should
have been delivered capable of dealing with a low threat contingency such as
this, but then the Commanding Unit does concur with the Perpheral Cylon to
moving elements of the Primary Squadron to the Launch Ramps would be a
positive action.
And there would be an entire network of tasks that needed
completion. This could be a small scout. But these could be a probe from a
pending large-scale assault. It would be needed to ascertain how many
of the targets existed, and their location.
And then there were Cylon matters, such as preparing the Raiders
to launch. And deciding what balance of Raiders should be devoted to defence
and what number to counter-attack. The arming of batteries, building up
sufficent levels of power and energy, plus a plethora of other matters would
make this an absorbing exercise.
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