Day 1 Start
"Galactica Actual, this is Expedition Raptor One."
"Raptor One, Galactica Actual. How's it going over there?"
The system's sun, not visible through the dense gas cloud, nonetheless illuminated Galactica from bow to stern, in a bright, eerie green. The pilots of the small collection of Raptors and Vipers, huddled together as if sheltering from some violent storm, gazed out of their viewports at the immensity of the great mothership, barely recognisable in its newly acquired colours. The leader of the group, sitting uncomfortably in the pilot's chair of his decrepit old Raptor, could clearly read the lettering embossed on the side of the launch bay from which they had exited just half an hour before. He reached again for the console and keyed the comm.
"All smooth so far, Actual. We're good to go on your command."
"Then good luck to you all, Raptor One. Let's hope we're right about what's on the other side of that frakking monstrosity. Galactica out."
The colonist fleet, as usual, was fleeing from the pursuit of the Cylons, who were only a few days behind. The fleet had been lucky to get even that far ahead, and luckier still to stumble upon the ball of gas around which they were slowly orbiting. It was the desperate hope of the fleet that sanctuary lay in the system within.
The thirteen exploratory vessels had been chosen as the most beaten-up Vipers and Raptors in the fleet, in the knowledge that the turbulent gas cloud they had to penetrate was certain to scrape the ships still more. In a standard formation, spread wide, the ragtag group now began to move towards the gas cloud, aiming for a spot just ahead of Galactica's bows, where the storms that peppered the surface of the cloud were sparsest.
"You know what they say, Raptor One: the gas is always greener."
"Yes, thanks, Viper One, for that awful pun. Now I'd like radio silence for the duration, except when absolutely necessary, if you don't mind. This is gonna take all the focus we've got."
The ships entered the cloud almost simultaneously, in ragged canon. From the bridge of Galactica, their entry looked peaceful enough, but the pilots experienced it rather differently. Disorientation was immediate, and closely followed by a state of near-panic. In spite of the leader's call for silence, desperate messages flew left and right as the vessels were tossed around like so many grains of sand.
For the first few minutes, their communications were adequate - although voices were indistinguishable, and noone was able to pinpoint the source of anyone else's transmission, it was enough. Crudely, the bunch progressed onwards slowly, managing to stay loosely in formation though flying completely blind. It soon became clear that this could not go on for ever, when a massive electromagnetic burst disrupted all radio signals for several minutes. When communications eventually resumed after what seemed an eternity, all semblance of togetherness was gone. Worse, as they threw around more messages, trying their best to re-form, it became clear that there were fewer voices than before. In the period of dead air, someone had disappeared; their ship gone!
Uneasy, and periodically plagued by unpredictable communication disruptions, the twelve remaining ships ventured deeper into the cloud, unsure of the fate of the missing pilot. Could there be a killer in their midst?
Day 1 begins now and will end at 6pm forum time, 30th August.
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Topic: M84: Battlestar Galactica Mafia (Game Over - Cylons Win!) (Read 96969 times)