4 Cutler: I can't seem to get Iblis' idea out of my mind. Craziest thing in the galaxy, but the more I think about it, the less it seems to make sense. I even thought about it while I was running the daily fire-control check on the turret. When that test-load fired, all I could picture was Baltar standing on the receiving end of it. I've gotten back to my quarters, the bunk space I'm sharing with the rest of the Team. Guess we sort of got lucky when they picked us up from Caprica, during the evacuation, most of the open-bay berthing was already taken, by the flight crews and the pilots they recovered from the other battlestars. They ended up putting the five of us in senior officer country, since it was never completely filled up even during the best of times. So as a result, we have our own turbo flush, and a little more space than the average warrior gets nowadays. Plus, a nice little common area in the corner, where we have a card table and scanner set. From my locker, I take a paper notebook. In it, I've kept a running letter going to Tisa. I know there is no way in Hades she'll ever read it, even if my heart refuses to completely believe it. Just the same, I've found it to be relaxing, and it helps me keep myself focused. I take the stylus from its clip on the outer cover of the notebook, and open the book to the last page I'd written on. It is nearly half full now. Fortunately, when I found it in the ships' supply, I managed to grab two others like it. Should be a long time before I have to try to find more. **My dear Tisa** I write at the top of the next page. I pause, wondering just how to proceed. **Things certainly are getting exciting here. I told you about Baltar surrendering, and they've got him locked up. Supposed to be transferring him to the prison barge soon, where he should spend the rest of his life. And that Iblis, the Count that Starbuck and Apollo rescued, well, he seems to have quite a hold over everyone now. Seems that all anyone can talk about is getting him elected to the Presidency of the Council.** I laugh at that. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if they did that. Be just like them to do it, without really knowing the guy. **I got to meet him personally earlier. I'm telling you, sweetheart, that something about him just didn't set right with me. I don't know what it was. If you were here, you would probably just tell me it was my own crazy suspicious mind working overtime again.** I shake my head, remembering just how headstrong she could be if she took a notion to. I remember some of our own fights, sadly enough. **The strange thing, though, is that he seems to want something from me. And if I'm right about what he might want, then I know for certain there is a lot more to this character than meets the eye.** I pause again. "Wants something." Why am I so reluctant to say it? I know what he wants, there was no question about that. But what reason could he have for wanting Baltar removed? **But for now, Tisa, it's starting to get late, and I have first watch tomorrow. I will sign off for now, and turn into my rack. Until next time--C.** 5 "So let's take stock here," Cutler said. "What do we have?" "Not much," Degeria replied. "We've got about a two secton supply of field rations, might be able to find more in the debris. The longer we wait, though, the more survivors will pick through it and take anything edible." "Looks like they concentrated a lot of bombing at the base," Zeta spoke up. "Can't say I blame them, that would be the tactically correct thing to do. Bottom line though, is without a detailed salvage operation to pick through the remains, we won't be able to find much in the way of useful items." "Which would be hard enough by itself," chimed in Raleigh, "but on top of that, the whole area is crawling with Cylon foot-centurions. If any sort of large-scale salvage op is to be undertaken, we would not only need a team of construction boys, but probably about a company or so of infantry to watch over the perimeter." "OK," Cutler said, "trying to rebuild Caprica Prime is out of the question. What about the Cylon garrisons?" "Hard to get an accurate count," Degeria said. "From the transmissions I'm picking up on that useless scanner, I make about two base ships making patrol sweeps along the inner planets. Plus, the bands are totally congested with distraught survivors trying to find their way off this rock." She shook her head slowly. "From the looks of it, I don't think any of us will ever leave Caprica again." "Do we have a location for a possible HQ for the Cylons? Or even a main LZ?" "It looks like they've got a couple of them, more or less at either side of the city. One right near the base, on the other end. At least, in this area, hard to say about any of the other places." "Without Fleet support," Cutler mused, "I guess that locally is about all we can deal with. At least for now." "What are you thinking, Cut?" Siree asked. "I don't know about all of you, but I'm going to continue our mission: Protect the Colonies. Those tin-heads might have all but wiped us out, but there are quite a few survivors. At the very least, we can make it expensive for them, maybe even see if we can get some survivors evacuated." "Evacuated to WHERE?" demanded Zeta. "Everything we see, the Cylons appear to have a near-total victory!" "I don't know!" yelled Cutler. "I for one, don't intend to just roll over and die! Ladies and gentlemen, this is what we were trained for. This is the reason we are here, and I don't know about you, but no one, and I mean no one shoots up my home planet and kills my entire family without ticking me off just a little bit." Cutler took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but there doesn't seem to be much else for us to do. The longer we can hold out, the better the odds are that some surviving fleet unit might show up to provide a little support. When we left the Cimtar region, it looked like the Galactica might be starting to hold her own, with maybe a couple of other squadrons from the other battlestars. I don't think they could have taken all the Fleet out there, I'm sure several got away. And sooner or later, they are going to show up here. "If we can hold out until then, we can provide the Fleet with surface intel, and hopefully shave the odds a bit toward their favor, maybe even get us a true toe-hold on the planet. From there, it would be a lot easier to take back the whole damn planet." Cutler looked at the faces of his Team. "Raleigh, Zeta, you all have your family safe?" Raleigh nodded. "We put them in a bunker we found. Left them with a comm unit, and plenty of Cylon rifles we picked up after we found them. They should be about as safe as they can get for now." "OK, good," Cutler said. "Well, since we are about all that's left of the chain of command, I will understand if anyone doesn't want to go along with me. You two want to try to get your family out of here, maybe out in the countryside somewhere, you are free to do so. Anyone wants to stay, I'd be honored to continue to fight alongside you." There was an almost uncomfortable pause. Finally, Zeta spoke up. "Cutler, I think I can speak for all of us. We could try to get them out, but sooner or later, it's a given fact that the Cylons would find us. I think our best chance is try to take as many of them with us as we can. At least until the Fleet shows up. You can count me in!" The others nodded or mumbled in agreement. Cutler grinned. "So it'll be just like old times, eh? 'Do or die, 'till death deny!'" He looked over his Team with pride. "So let's go show those tin-cans they bit off a little more than they bargained for when they pissed off the Mud Daggits!" 6 Cutler: The Fleet is in two distinct states at the same time: divided and in celebration. It seems the political lines, always opposed in most things, have become very separated. The celebrations are in response to Baltar's surrender, and the sudden ‘miracle' bumper crop from the agroships. I'm not sure what to make of this. Things are good. Everyone is happy for the extra food that is now available. The lack of Baltar commanding the Cylon task force leads us all to believe that the pursuit, while not necessarily over, is at least lacking in the human factor, the tenacity and cunning that Baltar led to it. It even seems that everyone is in a better mood. But I have to wonder: At what price? I've talked to Starbuck about this Iblis. He told me about the way they found him, on that planet with the red light. The crashed ship, totally obliterated, must have come from somewhere, and been occupied by someone. But apparently Iblis, and Iblis alone, survived. What if those on that other ship were once as we are now? Did they at one time agree to follow Iblis? And if they did, what happened to cause their destruction? And what of the current President of the Council? From everything I'm seeing, he seems very eager to simply step aside and hand Iblis the keys to the kingdom, as it were. Have you ever in your life known a politician to simply give up his power because he felt someone else could do the job better? I think Adama, and a few others, are quite wise to be reluctant in allowing that happen. At the same time, I'm worried that they can't oppose it for much longer without committing political suicide. Why would someone stand in the way of something that everyone obviously wants, and is oh so good for everyone in the Fleet? There just seems to be a piece or two of the puzzle missing, I only hope that if there is, it can be found in time. I am in the Turret now, where I sometimes go after normal working hours if I don't want to be around anyone. I find myself simply watching the stars as the Galactica speeds on past, wondering what awaits us out there. Wondering what awaits us in the Fleet. Suddenly, I see a flash past the portal. I leap to my feet, rushing for the portal. I make out several very fast, speeding points of light. They seem to be right beside us, but in the next instant, are gone, only to return at seemingly even greater speed. A klaxon sounds, signaling an alert. I hear the announcement, and so far, they aren't going to Battle Stations, which means that I won't have to power up the turret. At least not yet. I hear a voice on the speaker, that I recognize as Omega. He is calling for sensors and scanning station reports. Shortly, I hear the voice of Colonel Tigh as he makes a Fleet-unicom announcement, reminding everyone to remain calm, while the Galactica tries to sort out what is going on. Soon, I don't see the ‘lights' any more. After several centons, the alert ends. It seems we have been left with more questions once again. Sighing, I get ready to leave. I need to catch a shuttle over to the Rising Star. There is a big triad game tonight. And from what I've been told, Apollo doesn't want to play. Something about power struggle, and Iblis' influence. Sounds like a load of felger to me, but in any case, Raleigh and I are the backup team. Hope we are up to the challenge of taking on Boomer. 7 "Everyone in position?" Cutler spoke into the mouthpiece. He received affirmative notes from the team. He peered through the optics, scanning the Cylon post once more. He knew from the intelligence they had gathered that this was a small resupply and recon point for the Cylon occupation. And soon, it would be a dead point. He raised the long-range laser to firing position, then spoke into the com unit again. "OK, I've got the one at the gate. Raleigh, you take the one next to him, Degeria, the one by the comm shack. After that, we'll go in. Zeta, you and Siree cover us with those XL-23s. Nothing that isn't human lives. Got it?" He leveled the scope again, sighting in on the lead target. "On my mark . . ." Cutler squeezed the trigger, and a bright bolt shot from the weapon. His aim was true, and was rewarded with an explosive shower of sparks from the Cylon. Almost simultaneously, laser bolts took down the other two centurions. Cutler dashed from his cover, and sprinted toward the structure, keeping his weapon ready. From his peripheral vision, he saw his team mates dashing for the gate with him. Two centurions nearly stumbled from the entrance to the shack, only to be met by a blistering crossfire from the automatic lasers of Zeta and Siree. Cutler reached the gate first, and a few steps later found himself leaping the smoldering piles of metal. Once inside, he knew they would not have the cover of the support fire. Cutler slung the laser rifle over his shoulder, and drew the pistol, much better suited for close-quarter work. Resistance was minimal. Soon, no Cylons remained. Degeria immediately went to work with the Cylon computers, trying to find any information they could use. Cutler and Raleigh foraged through the supplies. Among them was a large number of Cylon rifles, and various equipment, most of it unsuited for human use. And of course, with the cybernetic systems that the Cylons used, there was nothing edible, not that it was expected. Cutler saw a crate with familiar markings--Colonial script. He pulled his combat knife from its sheath, and pried open the top. The Cylons must have found it intact and moved it to this location for sorting and cataloging. Inside, he found several weapons. He snatched several pistols, complete with holsters and belts, from the crate, and then saw a full case of power packs. "Raleigh." "Yo." "Paydirt. Help me here. Third room from the control center." Shortly, Raleigh entered the room, and Cutler handed him the pistols. Raleigh slung them over his shoulder, then took the box of power packs. Cutler took the second box, and realized he was looking at a full-range military band comm unit. "Dee," Cutler keyed the radio. "You get anything?" "A little, but most of it seems coded. One thing in the clear though, and you'll want to hear this. Cylon--" "Save it! We need to blow this place and be somewhere else very quickly, before another patrol happens along." "Got it." Cutler looked around the supply locker quickly, finding what he was looking for. It was a crate of the Cylon version of solenite. It worked a bit differently from the Colonial counterpart, but would do the job. Cutler smiled at the poetic justice of using the Cylons own explosives to destroy their post. He grabbed as many charges as he could carry, considering the rest of his load. He dashed into the control room, where Degeria was scanning a readout screen. Quickly, the trio set to work placing the charges around the equipment, and setting the detonators. Then, gathering their loot, began to move out. "Zeta, Siree, we're coming out. Get ready to move out to fallback point one!" Cutler ran the short corridor, almost at a sprint, with his two team mates right on his heels. Quickly, the Caprican night hid them as they moved away. Behind them, a large explosion lit the sky. The scanner in front of Athena began to flash. She looked at the information, believing it to be another sortie by the Cylon fighters. She had scanned many such actions since the Galactica had made it back to Colonial space, Cylon forces scrambling every time signals or ships were picked up boosting from the surface. This, however, appeared to be different. After a quick adjustment and concentrated scan, she did not make out any craft near the site of the alarm. She made more adjustments to the equipment, to take better and closer readings. The explosion she picked up looked to be localized, and on the ground. >From as far out as the Galactica had taken up position, it was nearly impossible to make out any more specific details, but the scanners did extrapolate a seventy-eight percent chance that several human life forms were very close to the area. Maybe they aren't all beaten, she thought. Could this be the beginning round of resistance strikes? After watching the readouts for a few centons, she didn't see anything more happening around the site. Almost reluctantly, she punched the key sequence for a summary report, and routed the information into the system, where she knew it would pored over by the intelligence types, perhaps even by her father if it proved significant. When she looked up from the scanner console, she saw Colonel Tigh walking quickly to keep up with Commander Adama. They appeared to be having a slightly heated discussion, probably held over from her father's insistence on going to the surface of Caprica while the planet was in Cylon hands. Tigh seemed to be asking a question, in his manner of trying to ‘go around' given orders that went contrary to what he felt he should do. Adama shook his head, and continued to speak as they hurried though the bridge area on the route to Adama's quarters. As they passed near her station, she could make out some of the words. ". . .and keep all the forces we have as close to the ship as possible. We cannot spare any for support operations!" "But Commander, the Cylons are splashing every ship, civilian and military, that tries to leave the surface!" "You have your orders, Colonel, I'll explain . . ." With that, Adama was through the door to his quarters, leaving Tigh apparently speechless. The earphone buzzed in Athena's ear. With the skeleton crew that was manning the bridge, many consoles were being double-dutied, with Athena being responsible for both scanner images and some frequencies of military message traffic. She found the appropriate channel, and heard a voice talking in her earset. "Any ship, any ship, this is Team Eight. Is there anyone out there?" After a pause, the message repeated. She called out to Colonel Tigh. "Yes, Lieutenant?" Tigh asked when he got to her station. "I'm picking up a transmission on short-range military frequencies." Tigh reached over her console, and brought up the message on the external speaker. "This is Galactica," Athena replied. "Go ahead." "Galactica!" the female voice sounded relieved. "This is Team Eight, Caprican surface, grid posit one-five-niner by seven-two-five point six. What is the current situation?" Tigh made a coughing sound, as to remind the young Lieutenant to not give any vital information lest the transmission be picked up by Cylon receivers. She nodded, then replied. "Team Eight, Galactica, situation remains undefined at this time." After a pause, the voice came back on. "Galactica, Team Eight, stand by for On Scene Commander." The connection went silent for a micron. "If they need extraction, we might be able to get a ship down there, but not anytime soon. Otherwise, we are not to send any forces to the surface in any way. Just get their information, and tell them we'll be back in touch when we know more," Tigh said rather stiffly, as though he were relaying instructions he didn't want to. After speaking with the On Scene Commander, who they learned was one Lt. Cutler, Athena closed the connection rather abruptly. Tigh's brow was slightly wrinkled in thought. "Team Eight, Lt. Cutler. Wasn't that the Mud Daggits? Colonel Howell's boys?" "I think so," Athena replied. "I think they were the ones we picked up a few quatrons ago from one of their intelligence missions." "That's what I thought. Colonel Howell was aboard the Galactica when the Fleet was attacked, but the Team was assigned security detail on the Atlantia. He thought they were all dead. Wonder how they got off her and back here?" Tigh straightened up, with a smile. "Well, I finally have some good news to tell someone!" "So what did you find out?" Cutler asked once they had made the rendezvous. "The Cylons are rushing the two baseships back here. Seems they found out something: The Galactica is in-system!" The Team let out a small cheer. "So help has arrived, and before we expected it. How many ships does she have with her?" "I don't know," Degeria shook her head. "Remember, it was Cylon messages I was translating, and they really weren't too clear. That was the only name I could see, so it may have just been the only one they knew." "Well, either way," Siree replied, "she's a big ship. And with the firepower of a battlestar, she could probably hold out quite a while on her own." "And," Cutler said, "we might be able to help them out some." He held up the Colonial comm unit he had found. "Think you could use this?" "Hell yes!" Dee said. "You know how hard it is to tune that civilian pile of junk?" Cutler handed her the unit, and Degeria snatched it like a child at Novayahren. Cutler turned to the rest of the Team, making small comments on the performance of the mission they had just accomplished. Team training, from early on, taught that criticism, when offered correctly, was not an attempt to degrade. All Team candidates understood that when a senior officer corrected mistakes, it was only an attempt to improve the entire Team's performance. "Cutler!" Degeria interrupted, and handed him the mic and earpiece. "I've got the Galactica!" "What code protocol are they using?" Cutler asked. "That's the funny part, it appears to be none. They just had a damaged Viper come in under full power. Sounds like chaos up there." Cutler put the earpiece on, and made sure the circuit was activated. "Assault Team Eight, this is Galactica," the voice finally spoke. "Galactica, this is Team Eight," Cutler replied. "Request information on tactical situation." "Team Eight, Galactica. Due to extreme nature of situation, unable to comply with request at this time." "Galactica, can you give me anything? My Team stands ready to secure ground positions and landing zones for your troops." The unit was silent for several microns, before the voice replied. "Team Eight, Galactica. Appreciate your information. Will keep you informed as much as possible." Cutler looked puzzled. "Galactica, Team Eight. This is Lieutenant Cutler, Colonial Assault Team Command, I transmit in the clear, I am not under duress. Code sequence Alpha Alpha Niner Seven Six Bravo. Request clarification." Again, the unit paused. "Team Eight, Galactica, received authentication. Please stand by for amplifying instructions." The connection went dead. "What the Hades?" Cutler asked as he pulled the earpiece. "What was that?" Degeria echoed. "They didn't say anything. Just said to stand by for amplifying instructions." The Team was silent, until Zeta said what they were all afraid to think. "Maybe she's in no shape to provide any support?" Cutler took a deep breath. "If that's the case, then our job just got a lot tougher!"