Excerpt from "An Unwanted New Home pt.1"

((note: The following is an excerpt from a joint post* on the BSG simm I take part in. For more information, see the Introduction post on this blog))

The startup list went smoothly, and with everything running save the engines, the craft lifted into the landing pod. "Battlestar Cerberus this is Avis 1 requesting clearance to depart on test flight alpha bravo 23 over." While waiting on a response he looked over and saw Lasha looking out the window nervously. "How ya doing over there?"

She gripped the seat with knuckles of white under her gloves. She had followed his suit and put on the helmet, feeling rather claustrophobic. She hated flying in aircraft, she hated helmets, and seeing as this thing was older than her ancestors, she was terrified that something untoward would happen. She was going to kill Davin when they got out. She'd beat him senseless with a blunt object of her choosing. "I'm going to kill you. There will be beating with blunt objects, Davin Carter." She said thickly through the helmet. She tried to calm down her heart and to help him even though she had no idea what she should be doing.

"Avis 1 you are clear for liftoff. Godspeed."

Davin flipped the remaining switches to ignite the engines and felt the pat..pat..rumble as they lit behind them. "Copy that Cerberus." They lifted from the pad and he saw her instinctively grab hold of the arms of her seat. He chuckled as they pulled out of the end of the landing pod and into open space. "Look at that view. You don't get to see this kind of thing on the deck." He looked out at the fleet, floating calm and peaceful amongst the stars and smiled.

She looked out and nodded. She loved the view, especially going to the observation deck and seeing the universe. It was strange. She didn't feel weird on the ship because she hardly felt like she was flying, but here, in this tiny ship, she felt like the universe could crush her whole. She had never felt so small in her entire life. "It's beautiful, really, but I'm not any less freaked. I can see a view like this from teh Obs deck. Can we do what we came here to do, so I can get back to my work and slowly throttling you for talking me into this?" Even through her nerves she managed a small smile at him through her helmet.

"Right the test...Let's start with checking the maneuvering..then we'll move to communications and systems." He gave it some throttle, twisted and turned and flipped the surprisingly light vehicle before settling back into an idle speed a few klicks out from the fleet. "How are the comm and DRADIS systems looking?"

She had let out a small scream as he flipped the aircraft and reached out to slap his arm. "You suck. You know that?" Turning back to the task at hand, she checked the comm and the DRADIS. "DRADIS is clear and functional, and comm..." She keyed in to the Cerberus' frequency. "Cerberus, Avis 1 Communication check. Do you copy?"

"Copy that, Avis 1. You're coming in loud and clear."

"Acknowledged, Cerberus." She gave Davin a thumbs up. "Communcations are clear and functional."

He gave her a thumbs up in return and couldn't help but smile. He was fairly sure she smiled too, but she had turned back to the console too quickly for him to tell. He gave it a little more throttle, rolled and pitched before returning to normal. "You know it's strange..this ship is almost as light and maneuverable as a viper. Not nearly as sluggish as a raptor." He flipped the switches to engage the weapons systems and one of the lights below them flickered for a moment before going out. He looked to Lasha with a smile, tapped on the panel a couple of times and the light finally ignited once more. "So you reworked the wiring huh?" She shot him that same steely glance, one that he wasn't afraid of in the least before slapping his arm once more. "Kidding..I'm kidding." He keyed his mike once he made sure the systems were functioning properly. "Cerberus, Avis 1 requesting permission to test weapons."

"Permission granted Avis 1."

Davin pulled the dual triggers on the wheel-style stick and the cannons on the front of the craft came to life, spilling bullets into the endless nothingness before them. He pulled back hard, turned and fired, rolled and fired then strafed while firing once more. When he had settled he looked over to his unimpressed passenger. "It's amazing how well this thing moves."

She had let out another scream, and glared at him through the faceplate. "Could you not do that?

"OK OK, we're almost done." He flipped those same switches off once more and the same one flickered once before going out. He caught Lasha's eyes and couldn't help but chuckle. He went down the list before him, flipping switches and asking her to flip the ones he couldn't reach. Each test went well, each system functioning properly. He would occasionally steal a glance into the helmet and then quickly divert it to the list when she returned it. Finally, he had reached the end of the list and could stall no longer. "OK, looks like the last test is the jump drive. You said you did some work on the Nav computer right? Are we sure it's going to be accurate?"

She gave hima slightly irritated look. She was already cranky from being out here in the first place, then he decides to question her work? "Ye-es I did, and it should be. You're the one who has to worry about putting in the coordinates right. I had to update the Nav computers to be able to interface with what we know as the DRADIS, so yes, the Nav computer is fixed and there's plenty of tylium in this thing."

He flipped the checklist over and revelead the next emergency jump coordinates in bold print. He keyed them in, fighting the urge to reach for the hand that was gripping the seat near his. "Cerberus, Avis 1. Requesting permission to jump to emergency jump coordinate Echo Charlie 7-8."

"Granted Avis 1. Excercise extreme caution."

"Copy Cerberus." He checked the coordinates once more and looked over to her before starting the count. She was looking back to the fleet as if she would rather jump out and float back. "We're going straight there and straight back, then we're done. I promise."

She merely gave a humph, and tried to brace herself for the sick feeling. She just wanted to be back safe and sound on her deck.

Davin sank back and grasped the arms to his own seat - it had been a while since he jumped in a small craft and the nauesa is much greater in those cases. He kept his eyes on the countdown, reading the big coordinate numbers over and over, assuring himself they were correct. And if they aren't...you'll be totally lost. They won't be able to find either of you. You'll die sitting in this seat. The numbers receded to less than 10 and he looked to Lasha once more. She had closed her eyes and he felt like doing the same but something caught his eye. The screen to the nav computer flickered. The count continued and nothing changed, but it worried him.

0:09....

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I think something is wrong with the nav computer..it just.." The screen flickered again, this time twisting and stretching before returning. The numbers remained.

0:05....

He looked down the list rapidly for the abort procedure and flipped two corresponding switches.

Opening her eyes she looked over at him "What are you doing? What's the matter?"

0:02....

"I don't like the looks of this. I'm aborting the jump..." The screen flickered again, twisting and turning, this time the numbers had jumped. Four of them were incorrect, he knew it without looking at the back of the sheet. He flipped the last switch and reached for the abort button she'd placed on the top of the screen but before he could push it the button seemed to sink away from him. Space and time folded around them and his stomach turned as they winked out of sight.

When everything settled they were floating in an equally empty stretch of space but he was already worried. He looked about at the stars and then back to the nav computer, obviously troubled. The screen was out, and when he pressed a few buttons it remained blank.

"Where are we? What happened?" She looked around confusedly. She may be able to fix electronics, but she didn't know a frak about using them.

"I don't recognize any of these stars...the coordinates changed just before the jump and I'm not sure where we are..."

Her heart froze as he said that. "The coordinates shouldn't have changed. They shouldn't have done anything except stay there. I should know I did the wiring myself, and I had checked it just yesterday to make sure that it was all working properly."[i] She was confused. Granted she'd had some help form some of her crew when going over the Avis' systems and with the fixing, but none of them would ever....

"Just see if you can get it back up." He flipped open a comm channel and searched for signals but found none. "Maybe I can get a laserline on Cerberus and we can relay our coordinates once you get the Nav computer up." While she worked on the monitor with a tool from her small kit, something caught his eye on her side. He looked to the small DRADIS screen and saw several capital class contacts slightly behind them. He used the console for leverage and lifted himself out of the seat just enough to make out the basestars behind them. The sky was full of them, and raiders poured from the arm of the closest one. They know we're not colonial, but they're not taking any chances. "HOLY FRAK..hold on!" He punched the throttle to full and took the wheel, moving evasively. Tools spilled from her lap and littered the floor, then flew toward the back of the cockpit when he turned.

She looked up as her tools fell back and was about to ask what the frak he was doing when she caught sight of the DRADIS. 'Oh... bloody hell,' she thought to herself with a panic as she held on.

The first of the raiders moved in behind him and he twisted and turned through the firing guns while switching on his weapons. He banked left while reducing the throttle and the raider fell in close. Exactly where I want you. He pulled a hard left and dropped the throttle more, causing the raider to overshoot past him. He punched the throttle once more and closed on the confused toaster, pulling the triggers and blowing it to bits before it had time to react. Another raider moved in close behind and he knew he wouldn't be able to dodge it. "HOLD ON!" He dropped the throttle completely, causing the engines to flame out. When the raider zoomed by with two wingmen he punched it to full, slamming them into their seats as the engines ignited at full strength. He pulled the same strafe from the test and took out two of them. Once he reached the third however, the guns clicked the click that no pilot wants to hear in a combat situation. "Please don't tell me we're out?"

Her face was pale beneath her faceplate as she looked over at him, trying not to roll her eyes. "Of course we are. We weren't exactly planning this thing to be anything but a trainer, and we figured the first time out wasn't going to result in combat, so we didn't install a full load."

Realizing she was right and a training mission was not worth a full load, his mind raced trying to come up with a plan before the incoming enemies could get a clear shot. He banked right and as if in answer to his silent prayer a small planet dominated the windows. It was white in appearance, the entire lower atmosphere wrapped in a blanket of heavy clouds. Out of nowhere, a raider came in on his right firing hard, peppering the side of the ancient craft. Sparks flew from Lasha's side and she screamed in fear. He immediately went into a diving spin, dodging shots as best he could. "GODS D****T! I'M TAKING US DOWN!"

Swallowing hard she gripped the side arms tightly, when somehitng on the DRADIS caught her eye."Davin! Davin! Are those what I think they are?"

He looked to the screen where she was pointing frantically and saw the two small contacts heading for them. Missles. From one of the basestars. Without thinking he pulled back on the throttle, drawing his pursuers in close. Just before one of the missles hit, he pulled up hard - causing it to strike the closest raider in tow. The other missle, however, proved to be the problem. It grazed the back of the craft, exploding behind it and taking part of the tail with it. Panels lining the back of the cockpit burst into flames as they went into a spin and Davin momentarily lost his grip on the controls. Lasha was screaming again, and that may have been the only thing that kept him from passing out. One of the other raiders was still firing at the spinning craft, and a spray of bullets struck the windows, shattering them and emptying their precious air into space.

She felt darkness starting to close in on her as she baounced aorund in her seat. Everything was starting to go silent. After all, sound doesn't really travel in a vacuum. As they broke atmo she felt herself blacking out, her screams dying in her throat. Dimly she thought that perhaps her family and Gerry would be waiting for her on the other side, ebcause she was surely going to die.

Finally, he grasped the wheel and fought the craft into a manageable fall. The sides of the ship were engulfed in flames as they fell through the thin atmosphere, the interior of the cockpit spitting sparks and steam in every direction. Once they had reached the clouds the raiders pulled away, leaving them for dead. Davin didn't blame them. Even through the flight suit he felt the cold in the air and the areas of the craft covered in steam immediately froze. He had no visibility during the fall, and he thought for a moment that there may be no surface.

That question was answered when the clouds finally broke, and he saw a barren stretch of land covered in snow. He pulled back hard and the nose only rose slightly as they plummeted toward their new unwanted home. The charred tail struck the ground first and the craft was rocked with such force that glass broke and seams cracked all around them. When the nose went down snow poured into the craft, dousing the flames in the cockpit. Something struck Davin's visor and shattered it. He thought for a moment it struck him but he wasn't sure. The word grew fuzzy around the edges and he released the controls involuntarily.

After an eternity of bumps and jumps the craft skidded to a stop and he felt the chill of the wind on his face. When his vision returned to normal he saw a slumped figure in the seat beside him, the entire front console cracked and leaning on her legs. "LASHA!" He unstrapped himself and moved to her, unsnapping her helmet and pulling it off immediately. He felt for a pulse, found one, and sighed in relief. "Thank the gods." He turned and attempted to lift the console, straining with all his might and barely moving it. Panting he fell to his knees and looked out the broken windows at the snow covered desolation before them. Something warm ran into his eye and he wiped it out just before falling back against her chair. From that position, he spotted a bent rod that was once carrying wires inside the cockpit. Fighting the sleep that was pulling on him he grabbed it and stood to his feet once more. He jammed the rod somewhere beneath the panel and pushed down with everything he had left. Finally it lifted mere inches off the legs and he turned the rod until it was pinned beneath the chair. Completely drained, he fell on his back and the sleep took him. He drifted off into a world of darkness as the wind howled and the snow fell.

*Lasha Kerrille posted by Mirakel Mayoral

Rolling Hills

He wasn't really sure how long he had been there...but he knew it must have been a while. The man in the corner with the beard was starting to smell and his hands were aching. When he had awoken he thought long and hard about how long he had been asleep...but couldn't remember the last time he knew. He supposed it could have been too long ago to remember. He sat trying to remember his name and what his shrouded past may have included. The first thought that came to mind was that of a woman in a blue dress standing in what looked to be a kitchen. Yes, it was a kitchen and she seemed to be cooking. Was this woman his mother? Perhaps she was his sister or maybe his wife. He felt sure if she was his mother he would recognize her but her face could not be seen. It seemed to be blurred as if she was just an image from a dream that he could not fully remember. In fact, at the moment he couldn't remember anything. He looked around the room and the first thing he saw was the old man with the beard. The man was chained to the wall by his wrists and had died some time ago. He looked at his own wrists and noticed he was chained to the wall also. He couldn't seem to move his hands or any other part of his body at the moment, it seemed as if he had just awoken into a dream and not yet into complete consciousness. His next thought was that there must be some way out of here, some way to escape from this room and from the man with the beard. His head ached and cursed him for all the thinking. He couldn't remember what happened before the room but somehow knew that he did not belong in it. Somehow it did not seem right. Pushing through the ache of his head he searched for an answer in his groggy memory and was only able to come up with the woman in the blue dress. He studied the room she was standing in. It seemed like any ordinary kitchen to him, pots were hanging over the stove and spices were lining the counter tops. The woman was stirring something in a pot and did not seem to know he was there watching her. There was, however, something of interest in the kitchen. A window was open just on the edge of his field of vision. He tried to look out the window, strained, but could not see anything more than what looked to be a field of green grass and soft rolling hills.

Jimmy and the Locket Man pt.2

"Where are you chicken s%#t?" The man mustered in a voice that seemed valiant, but barely masked the fear beneath it. The gun fired again, a thunderous clap that rattled Nightcide, and the bullet buried itself in a wall near him. He tried to move slowly, but the bright flash of the gun had given the man a split second to locate his attacker, and it seemed he had done so. The man aimed closer to Nightcide and fired again, but this time he had just enough time to duck down before the bullet ricocheted off the wall where he previously stood. The man moved closer still, trying to pinpoint Nightcide's location using the flash from the gun.

"Takes a real coward to-" Nightcide didn't let him finish. He rolled over to the man's position and threw a kick toward the hand holding the gun. The kick, which probably wouldn't have done much had the man been expecting it, loosened the gun and sent it hurtling toward and the Locket Man. As quickly as he could, Nightcide swept his leg behind those of the man, causing him to loose his balance and topple to the ground. Nightcide jumped to his feet and ran to the side of the man with his right foot swinging back, preparing for a kick to the ribs. Instead, his kick was met with the stone cold grip of the man who would prove to be a challenge. The man used Nightcide's captured foot to swing him over his body and onto the ground on the other side. Nightcide's back met the pavement with a thud, and his breath was forced from his lungs a little more quickly than he had expected. Lying there gasping for air, he could see the moon was framed between the two towering buildings on either side of the alley and that it would have made a beautiful picture had he seen it under a different circumstance. The man's fist crossed over the moon, descending toward Nightcide at a startling pace. He was able to catch it, but he only managed to slow the velocity of the hit and not actually stop it. The fist connected with Nightcide's chest, and he lost what little breath he was able to regain. The man had made it to a standing position now, or at least to his knees, and had another fist coiled for the area he thought to be Nightcide's face. When this punch descended Nightcide rolled slightly, causing the man to punch the unforgiving asphalt. Using that surprise to his advantage, he put everything he had behind a punch to the man's throat. There was a liquid gargling sound, like someone who can't swim trying to stay afloat in the ocean, before the man fell on his back to the ground clutching his throat.

Nightcide stood, brushed himself off, and walked toward Jimmy and the Locket Man. Once he reached the Locket Man he could see a dark fluid trickling from his nose in the ominous green light, and he knew it must've been blood from the punch. The man seemed a bit dazed and looked as if he was trying to determine exactly where he was. Nightcide lowered himself until he was just above the confused eyes and he threw a lightning fast punch across the man's jaw.

"WAKE UP" He spoke in the most guttural rasp he could muster. Surely this imbecile would not recognize his voice, but he couldn't take any chances.

"Wha...I..."

"THE LOCKET, WHERE DID YOU GET IT?"

"I don't...I don't...."

Another lightening quick punch landed, this one accompanied by a pop. A tooth loosened, a jaw bone fractured.

"WHERE DID YOU GET IT?"

"The..the girl's mother...she had it...boss took it off before...."

Nightcide lowered his face until it was inches from the man's. "WHERE'S THE GIRL? WHAT DID HE DO WITH HER?"

He waited a moment and then threw another punch at the man’s battered face. His knuckles were on fire, but he barely noticed. He would see later when he got home, that he'd torn the skin on three of them despite the gloves. When the man rolled his head back over this time there was a trickle of the dark liquid crawling out of his mouth.

"I d...don't kn....know..."

Nightcide grabbed the man's shirt with both hands and lifted his upper body off of the pavement. The man's head hung limp at first but then he attempted to raise it and meet his mysterious attacker's gaze. Nightcide reached back to the knife case attached to the back of his belt, just beside the pouch, and pulled out the knife, flipping its gleaming blade out of the handle and locking it in place. He wasn't completely sure why he brought it with him, or why he was taking it out right now, but he raised the knife to the man's throat and pushed it against the tender skin there. He could smell the man's odorous breath; a trace of alcohol was present.

"YOU BETTER START TALKING, OR I'M TAKING YOUR HEAD OFF JUST LIKE THE GIRL'S MOTHER” He wasn't sure if he really meant that, it sounded like someone else talking when he said it. But that person could have been serious. The man's head bobbed uncontrollably, and the movement caused the blade to dig in and the man to wince in pain.

"I..I don't know OK! He took her with him...told us not to follow...I'm...not sure..where he went...there's a w..warehouse where we m..meet sometimes...Edward Supply...He may... may have gone there..."

Nightcide frowned furiously, even though the man couldn't see his face, and slammed him back down onto the pavement. The man coughed and rolled to his side cradling his jaw. Nightcide kicked him across the face swiftly to put him out - and make sure he wasn't followed. He turned to leave, remembered something, and turned back. He reached down, dug into the man's dingy pocket and retrieved the locket. It was a heart with an intricate design running the edges. Crouching there on the cold street in the middle of the night it had a kind of warmth to it. It glimmered with its own kind of beauty. He pushed the small latch at the top and it flipped open instantly, revealing a picture of the girl a year or so younger. Nightcide narrowed his eyes and closed the locket in the palm of his hand. He stood slowly and looked down both sides of the alley, trying to determine the best route.

Jimmy and the Locket Man pt.1

The men huddled by the door had an odd appearance. They looked about and at each other the way a child does before defying their parents. They were up to no good, Nightcide knew that. Felt it. He clenched the hand holding his cloak and narrowed his eyes. The men were speaking amongst themselves sporadically, and now they appeared as if they had made a decision about whatever they were discussing. The one closest to the light took a final glimpse down the dark alley on his left and pulled something out of his pocket slowly. Nightcide recognized it immediately; a golden locket that belonged to the girl's mother. Big mistake. He reached behind his back and grasped the small pouch he'd attached to his belt. Inside were a handful of ball bearings. He laced his fingers around them quietly, all the while keeping his eyes on the group of men that had unknowingly sparked his anger. Once he had both bearings in his hand securely, he moved his hand back around and rose slowly.

One of the men smiled at the other and pointed at him with a laugh. Another of them joined in the laugh and the third seemed to lift his hands defensively. The laughing grew and one of them snatched the locket mouthing some sort of sick joke to its previous holder, who laughed at the punch line. Moving so fast that the men might not have seen it if they knew he was there, Nightcide threw one of the heavy ball bearings at the street light, shattering the bulb in a shower of sparks. Four years of baseball every summer had to be good for something. The men jumped instinctively and their eyes darted to and fro like those of a wooden dummy. Hurried calls to one another to check here or there were all they could muster. The night that was so inviting now fell like a dark blanket over the frightened men. The one holding the locket crammed it back in his pocket and pulled a pistol from the waistband of his dirty jeans. This will be a little harder than I thought. Nightcide reached up and turned a switch on the side of his goggles - enabling the night vision lenses (his newest acquisition). The street below was bathed in an eerie green phosphorescence that turned the men into alien like beings with black slits for eyes.

Nightcide stepped up on the edge of the building and lowered himself on taut, practiced, knees. He took a deep breath, the same ritual before all of his workouts, and exploded upwards with a burst of strength. He only rose a few feet before his fall started, but he had hold of his cloak with both hands and the light material caught the rushing wind in a balloon, slowing his fall slightly. Hearing the sudden swooping, the men turned and reeled in every direction - eyes scanning the skies for their attacker. Fear is a powerful weapon. More powerful in some cases than any other weapon one can possess. The man with the gun fired in a direction that was not Nightcide's, but was close enough to make his heart skip a beat. After what seemed like an eternity but must have only been a few seconds he was passing the fire escape and so he reached forward and caught it firmly. Hanging there still so suddenly, and feeling all the more vulnerable, he fished out the other bearing and threw it in the opposite direction as hard as he could. He thought he remembered a galvanized trash can sitting there, and the loud denting CLANG assured him he was correct. The men immediately trained their eyes in that direction, the ape with the gun firing again. The man closest to him was standing in front of a trash bag that someone must have left by the door, and for the thought that entered Nightcide's mind he couldn't help but smile hanging there in the cool air of the night. He swung his feet forward then back, forward then back, until his body was swinging with sufficient force. Just before releasing the bar he noticed a low hanging sign on the other side of the man. That would make it all the better. Finally, he released the bar propelling himself toward his clueless target. The man was looking down the alley, and once the two large boots were planted in his back he didn't have time to react. The force of the kick nearly lifted him off the ground but he met it again when his head bounced off of the small sign with a sickening thud.

"JIMMY!" cried one of the others.

Jimmy’s gone now. Going to be gone for a while - checked out. Nightcide could see his blind assailants advancing toward him cautiously in the eerie green light, and he knelt down slowly in the same spot his boots had landed. At the same time he drew his cloak in closer and closer, until it covered his body completely. One of the men walked right by him, swinging his arms to and fro in the darkness, searching for his beloved Jimmy. The four of them form some kind of family. A sick dysfunctional family led by a deranged maniac. Another of them was advancing directly in Nightcide's path and so this one had the pleasure of being dealt with first. The third was a little more hesitant than the others and decided to keep his previous post. Perhaps he would be the lookout. They would need a lookout. He took another slow, deep breath as the man closed the gap between them. Nightcide rose silently, eyes affixed on his target like a hunter loading his weapon. The man reached out, perhaps searching for a wall to grasp or some stationary object to help steady his way but what he found was something he would regret. As quickly as he could possibly muster and without making a sound, Nightcide took hold of the wayward wrist and turned it over while pulling the man closer. The man shrieked in pain and surprise, but what he would feel next made him scream like a young girl. Like the young girl whose parents he probably helped kill. While grasping the man's overturned wrist and pulling him closer, Nightcide slammed a balled fist down onto the back of the man's elbow with all his might. There was a loud crunch, like the sound of someone tearing a piece of Styrofoam, and before the stunned target could react Nightcide took the same fist and slammed it into the temple of the man who then crumpled into a limp pile of flesh at his feet. The other two men were already moving this time, and moving quickly. Not quick enough. One of them swung, nearly connected, but Nightcide used a forearm to deflect the punch to a wall. He quickly buried a knee in the man's gut then an uppercut to his lowered head. The man reeled backward unconsciously and landed almost on top of Jimmy. That’s the one with the locket. Nightcide made a mental note but didn't have much time to think about it, the last man, the man with the gun, had his finger on the trigger.