Chapter 9: Operation Cain
Posted: Mon Jul 19, 2021 12:07 pm
As the hauler approached it’s destination, chief Maxime initiated wireless contact. “Cupcake, Max. I’m close to dropping you off. Let me get clear before you light your candles.” The ship was placed into position and the tow craft moved off to and took a safe position directly above it. Afterwards, the major radioed back, “Thanks for the lift. Hopefully we will see at 18h00, if not sooner.” Feeling the need to give them something to look forward to the heavy equipment pilot got the last word in. “Hey major. I’ve been playing with some comet organisms and a few other tasty things. When you guys get back I’ve got some fermented sludge home brew to celebrate with. And I promise that after 4 drinks you hardly notice the taste.” Everyone on the raider cracked up and Clubber voiced their feelings wondering if that was supposed to make them happy or want to botch the mission.
The cylon fighter flew toward its destination and after several minutes the basestar came into view. Apprehension and the scent of fear hung in the atmosphere of the cramped plane. But most of all, as they approached and the enemy base grew larger, everyone just wanted to get it over with. Lieutenant Turin found himself commenting that he was actually looking forward to trying that sludge brewski. They eventually flew up to what looked like the landing port on the top saucer section and it was obviously closed.
The major broke the silent awe they were all experiencing, “Ok chief, you’re on. Where do you want me to park?” “About half a meter above the centre of the bay doors.” was his reply. Double-checking his suit seals, Forester prepared to exit the craft. Several years ago he had been part of the crew that did hull repairs on the Atlantia after it had been battered in a meteor shower. He then remembered the Argus and wondered what kinds of alloys were used in its construction. His thoughts were both from curiosity and of hope that this would be possible to cut through with the equipment he had. The rear hatch to the ship opened and he stepped out on to the surface of the cylon warship.
It looked pretty normal and in fact to the chief it seemed substandard. Especially compared to the hull of the Argus. He walked around for a moment or two searching for an access panel. The first thing he noted was that there were no markings on the basestar to denote anything. On human space crafts there were all kinds of labels saying everything from compression valve 132 to fuel line B - caution 900 P.S.I. But then he thought to himself that machines wouldn’t require such things. They would automatically be programmed with all this stuff or could directly access some sort of database. He, like the rest of his species, required maps, repair manuals and some sort of sign that gave him a clue he was in the right area. Sighing, he figured that cutting hole big enough for raider in the landing bay doors wasn’t an option. They only had enough room for 1 oxy-acetylene tank on the cylon fighter.
Somewhere in this area were the hydraulics that operated the door; it was just a question of cutting open the right area to find them. He would have to just make his best guess and perhaps several of them.
“Chief you have been at it almost an hour and that’s the 5th hole you cut open.” The major was growing impatient. They had a time limit and they still didn’t know what to expect once they got inside the ship. “Well if you don’t want to wait for me you can just fire up that raider’s weapons and try and blow a hole in the hull. It might wake up all the toasters but I’ll completely understand.” He was working as fast as he could and he didn’t think Assuras’ complaints were going to help things. He got through another section of the hull and saw 3 lines. If he built the ship it wasn’t where he would have put them but it still made a certain amount of logical sense that they would be in this area. So as far as he was concerned it was a definite possibility they were what he was looking for.
He put down his torch and took out his pipe cutters and began to splice into one of the lines. Hydraulic fluid spurted out on the incision. “Hey guys I think you can start warming up the engines in 5 minutes.” As he vented the fluid pressure into space, the massive doors began to open.
After Forester re-entered the plane, Cupcake and Clubber landed the craft in the bay. It was official; they were now aboard the cylon base. After the engines had been shut down they each took a moment to check their weapons. “Guns are hot gentlemen, so make certain you know where everyone is. We don’t need any accidents.” Preparing to open the hatch again lieutenant Turin spoke in panicked voice. “Frak! We already have company.” They could see through the front window of the raider a centurion had begun walking toward them.
Everyone drew his or her firearm and the lieutenant spoke again, “It’s got to open the hatch and when it does we blast it.” However, the robot didn’t approach the rear but instead simply proceeded to look into the cockpit. It’s ominous single red eye stopped moving back and forth and then it shut down again. Everyone but Lapointe appeared confused wondering what just happened. He noted that the light on the black box came on as the toaster approached. The Major spoke quickly, “The guy did say wait to see what they do. I think I’m just going to keep this with us.” There were several nervous smiles and the chief exited out onto the flight deck.
The others then quickly followed and Mr. Lapointe noted that Forester appeared to enjoy being first. There were numerous old raiders and scattered about were several centurions. All echoed clubber’s comments that it was creepy. After a few moments of wondering around on the landing bay, everyone turned his/her attention to lieutenant Lapointe. He returned their gazes by snapping at them, “Like I have a frakin’ clue!” Cupcake responded by saying that he was the computer expert and pointed out that he somehow had a laptop. Mr. Lapointe chuckled and said, “Watch a lot of movies Major?”
He shook his head remembering some films he had seen on Caprica. “Ok, alright, if I was going to install a network in this ship I would make the hub and tech centre as central as possible. We should try getting down to where the two saucer sections join. He then pointed into the direction of one corridor and said it looked as good as any place to start. No one disagreed and they followed.
As they walked through the corridors the relative austere and darkness of their surroundings impressed them. Colonial ships weren’t known for being colourful but compared to this basestar they would be considered palaces. The floor was the natural black pigment of a polymer compound, most likely used to insulate against electro magnetic interference and possible discharge. Lapointe explained that the centurions, ship, etc are all machines and if one of them had a problem and sent an electrical arc, it could have cascading catastrophic effects on everything. Not to mention that must be a hell of a lot of EMI in a room filled with robots.
With almost no contrast to the plastic under their feet, the walls were unpainted metal. Any rooms they encountered were solely utilitarian, each one looked alike and only their contents offered any distinctions. This made the search not only monotonous but also confusing because there were no points of reference. The chief complained twice saying that a couple of signs would have been too much to hope for.
Finally after 45 minutes of what felt like moving around in circles, they came upon a room that had two large computer banks facing each other. They walked in and the young tech pulled out his portable and spilled a backpack filled with network cables, screwdrivers, a soldering iron and various other tools. He looked at the chief and told him to take the front panel off one of the mainframes. Cupcake decided she felt safer with the room’s door closed and quickly shut it. “I’m going to need to first build some sort of interface then I’ve got to figure out how to talk to this thing. You can either wait until I call up a floor plan or construction schematic or attempt a blind hunt for places to put the explosives for our secondary objectives.” The major decided they should wait and Turin stated he wasn’t looking forward to trying to deploy the Colonel’s cannibalized missile part demolitions. Making it clear that he felt a 2 hour discussion with the old marine wasn’t sufficient training.
As the minutes passed the narrow room became humid and musky. Chief Forester figured there weren’t any real environmental systems aboard the ship, because after all, robots didn’t have to breath. Just as lieutenant Lapointe figured out how to patch into the main computer and was attaching the cables, movement could be heard from the corridor outside the room. Approximately 20 seconds lapsed and it became obvious that multiple footsteps were heading toward them. Cupcake looked around and sarcastically asked if anyone actually believed it was just mice. The lieutenant was now clicking away on the keyboard of his machine and broke the tension. “Frak, I think I might have set off a security system. Cover me!” The three soldiers took positions up at the door preparing for a possible fight. The centurions could now be heard a few meters away and approaching.
“Frak maybe!” The sound of the approaching cylons suddenly stopped. All eyes were on Lapointe and Cupcake demanded clarification about what maybe was. He replied, “I’m not sure, I think we set off some sort of humidity detector in this room. Perhaps the toasters were only coming to check it out.” The major looked at him and wanted to know if they were still on their way in or had they been dealt with. She didn’t appreciate the shrugging response and ordered him to extrapolate further. “Sir, it’s not like I’m able to speak to it like a person. I have to figure out what everything does and there are literally thousands of processes. All I did was delete a suddenly active thread. The only reason I think its humidity detector is because I saw something similar once.” Looking back at his computer, he remarked it was like flying blind without a control operator for help.
As time passed, Clubber started to tell jokes and do Bridgeford impersonations. Although no one laughed, it helped to clear the tension. But major Assuras was growing impatient and she wanted to put as much distance between herself and this ship as soon as possible. “Lieutenant, I want to know how long.” Looking up from his work he told her 3 perhaps 4 hours and even longer if she kept interrupting him. “That’s too long soldier, is there anything we can do to help?” Cupcake had decided it was time to push the man a little bit. So with an exasperated breath, Lapointe responded. “Ok, I think I’ve got a good grip on the system but like I said I have tons of stuff to search through. And it doesn’t help me that same humidity thread reappears every 5 minutes and I have to deal with it.” Lieutenant Turin tried to be funny saying that he could have been a techno-geek but failed the I.Q. test.
The cylon fighter flew toward its destination and after several minutes the basestar came into view. Apprehension and the scent of fear hung in the atmosphere of the cramped plane. But most of all, as they approached and the enemy base grew larger, everyone just wanted to get it over with. Lieutenant Turin found himself commenting that he was actually looking forward to trying that sludge brewski. They eventually flew up to what looked like the landing port on the top saucer section and it was obviously closed.
The major broke the silent awe they were all experiencing, “Ok chief, you’re on. Where do you want me to park?” “About half a meter above the centre of the bay doors.” was his reply. Double-checking his suit seals, Forester prepared to exit the craft. Several years ago he had been part of the crew that did hull repairs on the Atlantia after it had been battered in a meteor shower. He then remembered the Argus and wondered what kinds of alloys were used in its construction. His thoughts were both from curiosity and of hope that this would be possible to cut through with the equipment he had. The rear hatch to the ship opened and he stepped out on to the surface of the cylon warship.
It looked pretty normal and in fact to the chief it seemed substandard. Especially compared to the hull of the Argus. He walked around for a moment or two searching for an access panel. The first thing he noted was that there were no markings on the basestar to denote anything. On human space crafts there were all kinds of labels saying everything from compression valve 132 to fuel line B - caution 900 P.S.I. But then he thought to himself that machines wouldn’t require such things. They would automatically be programmed with all this stuff or could directly access some sort of database. He, like the rest of his species, required maps, repair manuals and some sort of sign that gave him a clue he was in the right area. Sighing, he figured that cutting hole big enough for raider in the landing bay doors wasn’t an option. They only had enough room for 1 oxy-acetylene tank on the cylon fighter.
Somewhere in this area were the hydraulics that operated the door; it was just a question of cutting open the right area to find them. He would have to just make his best guess and perhaps several of them.
“Chief you have been at it almost an hour and that’s the 5th hole you cut open.” The major was growing impatient. They had a time limit and they still didn’t know what to expect once they got inside the ship. “Well if you don’t want to wait for me you can just fire up that raider’s weapons and try and blow a hole in the hull. It might wake up all the toasters but I’ll completely understand.” He was working as fast as he could and he didn’t think Assuras’ complaints were going to help things. He got through another section of the hull and saw 3 lines. If he built the ship it wasn’t where he would have put them but it still made a certain amount of logical sense that they would be in this area. So as far as he was concerned it was a definite possibility they were what he was looking for.
He put down his torch and took out his pipe cutters and began to splice into one of the lines. Hydraulic fluid spurted out on the incision. “Hey guys I think you can start warming up the engines in 5 minutes.” As he vented the fluid pressure into space, the massive doors began to open.
After Forester re-entered the plane, Cupcake and Clubber landed the craft in the bay. It was official; they were now aboard the cylon base. After the engines had been shut down they each took a moment to check their weapons. “Guns are hot gentlemen, so make certain you know where everyone is. We don’t need any accidents.” Preparing to open the hatch again lieutenant Turin spoke in panicked voice. “Frak! We already have company.” They could see through the front window of the raider a centurion had begun walking toward them.
Everyone drew his or her firearm and the lieutenant spoke again, “It’s got to open the hatch and when it does we blast it.” However, the robot didn’t approach the rear but instead simply proceeded to look into the cockpit. It’s ominous single red eye stopped moving back and forth and then it shut down again. Everyone but Lapointe appeared confused wondering what just happened. He noted that the light on the black box came on as the toaster approached. The Major spoke quickly, “The guy did say wait to see what they do. I think I’m just going to keep this with us.” There were several nervous smiles and the chief exited out onto the flight deck.
The others then quickly followed and Mr. Lapointe noted that Forester appeared to enjoy being first. There were numerous old raiders and scattered about were several centurions. All echoed clubber’s comments that it was creepy. After a few moments of wondering around on the landing bay, everyone turned his/her attention to lieutenant Lapointe. He returned their gazes by snapping at them, “Like I have a frakin’ clue!” Cupcake responded by saying that he was the computer expert and pointed out that he somehow had a laptop. Mr. Lapointe chuckled and said, “Watch a lot of movies Major?”
He shook his head remembering some films he had seen on Caprica. “Ok, alright, if I was going to install a network in this ship I would make the hub and tech centre as central as possible. We should try getting down to where the two saucer sections join. He then pointed into the direction of one corridor and said it looked as good as any place to start. No one disagreed and they followed.
As they walked through the corridors the relative austere and darkness of their surroundings impressed them. Colonial ships weren’t known for being colourful but compared to this basestar they would be considered palaces. The floor was the natural black pigment of a polymer compound, most likely used to insulate against electro magnetic interference and possible discharge. Lapointe explained that the centurions, ship, etc are all machines and if one of them had a problem and sent an electrical arc, it could have cascading catastrophic effects on everything. Not to mention that must be a hell of a lot of EMI in a room filled with robots.
With almost no contrast to the plastic under their feet, the walls were unpainted metal. Any rooms they encountered were solely utilitarian, each one looked alike and only their contents offered any distinctions. This made the search not only monotonous but also confusing because there were no points of reference. The chief complained twice saying that a couple of signs would have been too much to hope for.
Finally after 45 minutes of what felt like moving around in circles, they came upon a room that had two large computer banks facing each other. They walked in and the young tech pulled out his portable and spilled a backpack filled with network cables, screwdrivers, a soldering iron and various other tools. He looked at the chief and told him to take the front panel off one of the mainframes. Cupcake decided she felt safer with the room’s door closed and quickly shut it. “I’m going to need to first build some sort of interface then I’ve got to figure out how to talk to this thing. You can either wait until I call up a floor plan or construction schematic or attempt a blind hunt for places to put the explosives for our secondary objectives.” The major decided they should wait and Turin stated he wasn’t looking forward to trying to deploy the Colonel’s cannibalized missile part demolitions. Making it clear that he felt a 2 hour discussion with the old marine wasn’t sufficient training.
As the minutes passed the narrow room became humid and musky. Chief Forester figured there weren’t any real environmental systems aboard the ship, because after all, robots didn’t have to breath. Just as lieutenant Lapointe figured out how to patch into the main computer and was attaching the cables, movement could be heard from the corridor outside the room. Approximately 20 seconds lapsed and it became obvious that multiple footsteps were heading toward them. Cupcake looked around and sarcastically asked if anyone actually believed it was just mice. The lieutenant was now clicking away on the keyboard of his machine and broke the tension. “Frak, I think I might have set off a security system. Cover me!” The three soldiers took positions up at the door preparing for a possible fight. The centurions could now be heard a few meters away and approaching.
“Frak maybe!” The sound of the approaching cylons suddenly stopped. All eyes were on Lapointe and Cupcake demanded clarification about what maybe was. He replied, “I’m not sure, I think we set off some sort of humidity detector in this room. Perhaps the toasters were only coming to check it out.” The major looked at him and wanted to know if they were still on their way in or had they been dealt with. She didn’t appreciate the shrugging response and ordered him to extrapolate further. “Sir, it’s not like I’m able to speak to it like a person. I have to figure out what everything does and there are literally thousands of processes. All I did was delete a suddenly active thread. The only reason I think its humidity detector is because I saw something similar once.” Looking back at his computer, he remarked it was like flying blind without a control operator for help.
As time passed, Clubber started to tell jokes and do Bridgeford impersonations. Although no one laughed, it helped to clear the tension. But major Assuras was growing impatient and she wanted to put as much distance between herself and this ship as soon as possible. “Lieutenant, I want to know how long.” Looking up from his work he told her 3 perhaps 4 hours and even longer if she kept interrupting him. “That’s too long soldier, is there anything we can do to help?” Cupcake had decided it was time to push the man a little bit. So with an exasperated breath, Lapointe responded. “Ok, I think I’ve got a good grip on the system but like I said I have tons of stuff to search through. And it doesn’t help me that same humidity thread reappears every 5 minutes and I have to deal with it.” Lieutenant Turin tried to be funny saying that he could have been a techno-geek but failed the I.Q. test.