“Commander,” Danis answered holding one hand to he comm link she wore on one ear. “The station is hailing us.”
, Cerberus Anchorage. Halt your attack immediately—this is a direct order from the person of Rear Admiral Carson Trahn. Authentication codes follow,” the loudspeaker broadcast, just as Tom walked back into CIC.
“What the frack? Admiral Trahn?” he asked Mathias and the Commander nodded his own unease. Carson Trahn was on the board of the Fleet Advanced Projects Bureau—he wasn’t a line officer and he certainly should not be out here.
“Admiral Trahn’s personal codes are confirmed and authenticated, Commander,” reported Danis.
Actual—we have not yet begun to attack, Cerberus. Your guardship launched an ill-advised attack upon us. The crew aboard Aurora
should be grateful that we resolved that illegal and unwarranted attack in a non-lethal manner.”
Actual, Cerberus Actual,” the loudspeaker said after a few moments. “I believe that matters have nearly gotten out of hand—what is your clearance from Picon Fleet Headquarters?”
“Cerberus Actual—seven months ago the Cylons launched an attack on the Colonies. Picon Fleet Headquarters was destroyed. Every Colony was struck with hundreds of nuclear warheads—the Fleet is gone. Scorpia
is escorting survivors in an attempt to link up with other Fleet elements.”
There was a long pause. “I . . . see,” the Admiral on the far end of the line said slowly. “Perhaps it would be for the best, Commander, if you were to come aboard and brief me in person. Proceed with your Battlestar to Docking Bay three—all other ships to keep their distance or they will be fired upon.”
“Cerberus Actual, Scorpia
Actual. Do you mean to suggest that I should halt recovery operations on Aurora
and her pilots in order to dock this ship? I am officially and for the record requesting permission to take a Raptor across instead.” Mathias asked the question with a frown on his face and a small shake of his head.
Once again there was a pause and then the Admiral sighed. “Very well. Complete your recovery efforts and then dock. We will be expecting your Raptor while Scorpia
completes the recovery operation. Cerberus out.”
Mathias racked the phone, and Tom swore. “I don’t like this, Commander,” he whispered. “We nearly blow away a Fleet ship and crew, and he doesn’t seem the least bit concerned? Not about our intentions or the lives of the people aboard, but he wants us to hard-dock? Where if we were hostile we could tear out the bowels of that station from point-blank range. And he was just going to leave the people on Aurora
and in the Vipers out there to die?”
He sighed and nodded. “Agreed, Tom. Still, he’s an Admiral—I’m a Commander. You have the conn—and stay on full alert,” Mathias added.
“At least ta-. . .,” Tom began, but Mathias chuckled as he unracked the phone.
“Flight Operations, CIC. Have Prince spin up a Raptor for transport—with his guard detachement onboard,” the Commander ordered and then racked the phone.
“My pilot is the monarch of Virgon—and well, Virgon law, enshrined in the Articles of Colonization, requires that he have armed guards at all times, in all locations. Even if Trahn objects, he hasn’t a leg to stand legally to order them back to the ship.”
Tom smiled and he nodded. “Good hunting, Commander,” he said with a salute.
“You have the conn, Colonel,” Mathias answered before returning the salute and exiting CIC.