Empty Space: A Battlestar Galactica Crossover

"What type of contact?" insisted Major Omunda with less force than he desired. "A raptor from Galactica, maybe?"

"Sir, contact is a changeling heavy raider."

Omunda blinked hard and long, choking the words out. "Vector the CAP. Jam their transmissions. If we can only..." He trailed off, wrapping his hooves around the edge of a console as stars swam at the edges of his vision. "No," he thought to himself. "Old warhorses die in battle, not like this. And definitely not as battle is being joined." It was a moment before his busy staff noticed his collapse.

"Medical team to CIC for Major Omunda. Captain Armor to CIC immediately," called out Chief Ortega.

"DRADIS report. Contact has jumped away."

"Recovering blue wing from exercises." The Flight Operations tech looked around. "Who's the ranking officer here now?"

"I suppose that would be me," allowed Maud Pie, after surveying the other members of CIC. She moved to the tac plot from the nav station. Assessing the board, she was acutely conscious of all eyes on her, and of the fact that she had just taken command of a battlestar without any knowledge of its crew or status. Their lack of confidence lucked just below their professionalism, she knew. Their blank expressions could cover anything, but most likely it was uncertainty. She could not expect that to change until she had a solid record of achievement. Two seconds passed as she assessed the situation. "What would Armor do?" she asked herself. "An enemy scout has just sighted us and has jumped away," she summarized in her mind. There was only one thing to do. "Set condition one throughout the ship," she barked, and just like that, she was in command. It was easier than she had feared, and harder. The crew leapt into action as the alarm sounded. Maybe she could do this. "Launch the alert fighters. Scramble red wing but hold launch pending further sightings or until recovery of blue wing is complete. Advise Nightmare and Carrot's Bounty. Also Galactica."

She did not have long to wait. New contacts blossomed on the starplot. She did not need the analysis, she had seen this before and knew well enough what was coming. Her command would be as brief as it was unexpected. The new contacts were a full changeling battle force. Four base ships. To counter them she had a single battlestar of the small modern variety and a suspicious crew. Plus, she was to guard the two wounded civilian ships.

Great.

The next five minutes were the worst of her life and passed in a blur. The changelings did not stop to engage, but merely finished off her charges with anti-ship missiles. Her attempt to assist them merely got two of the missiles to lock onto Pegasus instead.

Trying to evaluate the situation as if it were an academy exam question, the only positive aspect was that they were not dead. But even this was due to changeling haste and not to her leadership. Even though she could not think of anything she could have done better, she knew the crew must have as low an opinion of her performance as she did herself. But she was in command, and must not appear to be directionless. "Damage report, Ms...Ramsay," she called out, having to check her security badge. She was the only other officer presently in CIC. Being an ensign, she would have even less experience than her. "And probably ever less desire for this command," she added bitterly to herself.

"Two vipers lost. Escorted ships obliterated. Sublight drive damaged beyond repair. Captain Armor was passing through the sublight section on his way here. He is missing and possibly a casualty. Full casualty count unknown, but likely to be 50 - 100, mostly engineers. Three fires are burning in compartments adjacent to engine spaces. We expect to have them under control in twenty minutes or so. No fires in the sublight section itself, as it is decompressed and open to space. Ma'am."

Maud thought a moment, reviewing how Armor handled bad news. "How would you assess the results of the engagement, ensign?"

Ensign Ramsay looked uncomfortable for a moment, aware of not just her superior's attention, but that of the crew as well. Squaring her shoulders, she replied levelly, "We got our asses kicked, ma'am."

"So we did, ensign, so we did," Maud responded, careful not to shrink from the blunt truth. Then, as she so often did when uncertain of what to do next, she put her hooves in her pockets.