The Air Wing scrambles to stop the Cylons from blowing up Illi Dam.
Location: Atray Province
Related Scenes: None
Plot: Operation: Bullhorn
Scene Number: 718
The front has been relatively quiet for a couple weeks. The crew here is on CAP, four Vipers and two Raptors patrolling the space around Galactica. Kallas in in the lead. So far the flight has been uneventful.
A quiet CAP, with only a minimal amount of useless background chatter. A sure indication that the usual team of a farm boy and a miner's daughter is not in full effect. Cherry is, alas, by her lonesome, and is out amongst the vipers, sometimes going ahead to fall into line with Kallas, sometimes falling back to match speeds with Sweet Pea. And given just how good of a pilot...and a shot..Sweet Pea is, that's not at all a bad thing. And fourth in the order is poor, poor Jigger, only newly back from his tour of duty in sickbay and rehab.
Calliope is the bus driver of one of the Raptors on patrol. The ECO known as Mince in her backseat. She's been pretty quiet, save when she needs to answer something over the comm. Less quiet in cabin, where she's asking her bear for updates on their systems periodically. More periodically than is probably necessary. The recent system failures on the Raptors might have her a tad paranoid. Just might.
CAP. The... nope, not the final frontier. Not even the beginning frontier. It's just there. The same slice of space one sees every frakkin' day they're on CAP. Niemec is at the controls and keeping at a fair distance from the Vipers. Not for any paranoia reasons, but mostly because Calliope is on the opposite side. Broader range for things like DRADIS to pick anything up. And fewer clumps of targets if anything does show. The Tauran Captain has also been fairly quiet on the comms... and in the cabin. She's sparing Jaxon the philosophical ramblings today, but not the incessant tapping of her finger against the controls.
Chewtoy, for what it's worth, is in business mode. Which also means the normally loud, foul-mouthed, rambunctious Canceron is on his best behavior, and uncharacteristically silent. Perhaps a bit strange for anyone who hasn't flown CAP with him before and only know him from the barracks. He's perfectly fine with the quiet, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him lest he miss the little bleep from the DRADIS that could mean something more than another boring patrol followed by a night in the lounge watching pyramid recordings.
"Think the Cylons are still recovering from their First Night hangovers?" Kallas jokes regarding the lack of Cylon encounters. Which, if one were to be of the superstitious sort, is a sure-fire way to invite trouble. Fate does not disappoint in this case, for no sooner are the words out of his mouth than a transmission comes over from Galactica. "Galactica to CAP. We have a report of a large Cylon incursion inbound to the Lake Illi area. The Taurons are scrambling fighters but request assistance. You're the closest." Beauty of orbital mechanics, since flying straight down is sometimes faster than flying across the front.
"Copy that, Galactica," Kallas responds. "CAP inbound."
Cherry: "You do know how to bring the party, Smackdown." And that's not said with any amount of ire at all. Yes, shooting things, being shot at, and possibly dying is pretty much, in most people's opinions, the crappiest job ever, but for viper pilot, let's be honest, it beats another soul-destroying CAP rotation. "Right behind you."
"You're sure the engine readings look normal?" Calliope asks Mince for the dozenth time. He has an audible sigh in his voice as he responds that, yes, everything appears normal at the moment. Still, Calliope looks on-point of asking again before Kallas' announcement. She responds, pipingly over the comm channel, "Flight, Bullseye. Copy. Setting course to Lake Illi."
"Glad we have a CAG without karma on his side," Niemec notes wryly into the comms as she adjusts trajectory and gives the bumblebee of a Raptor a kick of speed. "Chewtoy, see what you can get from the Tauron flight about what to expect." If they can before it's on DRADIS. "Flight, Squeak," back to the radio, "I've got your tail. We'll sound the alarm once we've got anything." Or Calliope will. Raptors, they do what they do.
"Had to say something.." Jaxon mutters to himself under his breath wisely off the radio, part of him wanted a boring CAP and those recorded pyramid games, but nope, not today. "Copy, Squeak, sending request for info." The ensign keeps an eye on his monitors, even as he sends the request for deployment information on to the Tauron flight.
"I aim to please, guys," Kallas replies with his usual dry wit. "And just remember, Bullseye, it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you." Apparently he can fully understand wanting to check the readings a dozen times. As they zip down from atmosphere towards the ground below, the Raptors' long-range DRADIS can pick up a pretty large flight of ships - probably about fifty in all. No way to tell on DRADIS, but as they get closer they'll be able to see it's a mix of Raiders, Cypers and Heavies. They're now over the north part of the lake, heading south towards Colonial territory. The Tauron forces are on DRADIS as well, zooming in from the west.
"Especially you, Bullseye." True facts. Eva matches speed with the rest of the flight, seeming content to wait for what comes, taking the time as they plummet vaguely downward to check all of her own systems and to see if she can get a handle on what they're going to be going into.
"I do have a target for a name, Flight," Calliope says wry over the comms, continuing on course to the combat zone. Word of actual targets coming over the DRADIS, not just imaginary system ghosts, makes her focus.
"Well frak me sideways." This is not uttered over the comm. Nope, this happens when Niemec doesn't even need Jaxon's report to see that mass on the DRADIS. She does hit the radio, clearing her throat a bit. "Smackdown? I think we're gonna need a bigger gun." The pilot glances over her shoulder to Jaxon. "Chewtoy, I want you warming up that rack now. Kobol's grace, we won't need it, but I'd rather have it ready to go."
"I got contact with.. Oh sweet frakking Athena." Chewtoy starts flipping switches warming up the missiles and the rear KEW. "This is going to be a bit of a bumpy ride." So much for professional Jaxon, that went out the airlock with all those contacts on the DRADIS. "I'd like to suggest we request reinforcements from Galactica." He looks away from his screens for only a moment towards the front of the raptor. "Captain, I pray to all the gods you can keep us airborne."
Kallas' voice comes over the comm. "Galactica, Smackdown. We've got a shit-ton of Raiders heading south across the lake. Looks like at least fifty. Request you send more planes our location and have the rest of the squadron standing in reserve." Galactica acknowledges, promising to send reinforcements. "All right everyone, let's go link up with those Tauron boys and girls and head in together. No way are we wading into that storm all alone." He adjusts his course to intercept the friendly ships coming from the west.
"Squeak, I feel this is the time I think of all the things I should have said. Alas." Cherry pulls in closer to the diving vipers, narrowing her focus to the only thing she can do anything about, and that are the incoming cylons. "I hope those pilots know what they're doing." A beat, "No offense, Squeak." Because let's be honest, that's nearly an apocalyptic number of raiders.
"Whoafrak." At least Calliope keeps that off-comm, as she takes in the sheer tonnage of Cylons they're flying toward. She maintains a course parallel with Niemec's Raptor, trying to keep a wide net of coverage over the Vipers. Her ECO, meanwhile, goes to work on prepping the electronic warfare systems.
"I'll keep us airborne." It's a promise. More than, really. Niemec just doesn't see it going any other way! Her demeanor, however, shifts. Jaxon can see it, physically, in the way her shoulders are held. "Cherry, you'll be able to say plenty when we get back to Galactica later." Her voice may be tight, but she's angling in to join in the Tauran forces along with the rest of the Galactica contingent. Forces she, herself, was a part of not too long ago. "Frak me," she mumbles, after a glance out the view screen. "I bet I know some of them."
"Do it, Squeak, and I have a whole box of crackers with your name on it." Chewtoy takes a few deep breaths as he double checks all the systems, making sure everything is working as well as it can. Not that he could do much to fix it mid-flight, but it at least helps to calm his nerves. His mouth moves silently, muttering small prayers under his breath as he gets a grip on his nerves before they can fray. "Just another game. Just another game."
Van managed to get everything buckled before the catapult launched him into space alongside the Galactica, but it was a near-run thing, the Picon pilot slapping the last clasp closed just as he gave the LSO the palm-out salute of the Picon Naval Academy. Glancing over to his fellow alert-five pilot, he notes, "Sounds like a job for beyond-terminal." And so Van finds himself not just falling through the Tauron atmosphere, but arrowing straight down through it on wings of fire, his thrusters burning hot behind him. Several squadrons of enemy birds and wildly outnumbered friendlies... just like (bad) old times back on Picon. As his vision narrows behind fiery re-entry, Van calls ahead, "Smackdown, Milkman. Alert Five is inbound your position. ETA two mikes. Save a few for us." There's enough tension in the man's tenor as the stick bucks through burbles in the upper atmo that he's probably trying to lighten the mood.
"Got those reinforcements inbound, Chewtoy," Kallas assures the ECO after his suggestion. It takes only a couple minutes to join up with the Taurons, and there's a brief exchange of muted pleasantries between the flight leaders. "All right, here we go. Watch each others' backs."
Eva moves immediately into the fray, picking the first target that looks as though it might be flying in her general direction. There's enough fire and crossfire that it's not that necessary to go looking for suitable things to shoot. "Think I should try to impress them with my Tauran?"
Calliope brings her Raptor into the fray, not too far behind the Vipers. The guns are warming, but for now her ECO's attention is on jamming the enemy. Mince exchanges a quick, "Don't worry, Bullseye. These frakkers look bigger on the DRADIS." as they wade into the fray. Calliope laughs weakly, takes a deep breath, and braces.
An alarm begins going off within Squeak and Chewtoy's Raptor. Niemec hisses and silences it. "You've got an eye on that, right?" Even as she goes evasive, lining up a shot with a missile. They're limited, but anything she can do to clear the pack... right? The woman adjusts the angle of their bird a bit. "Hold on," to her bear, "things might get a little rocky."
"I'm on it." Jaxon's hands are flying across the console like he's playing an instrument, though he doesn't manage to keep all the panic off his face, just most of it. "I can take a bumpy ride, but I'm not ready to go planetside quite yet." He picks off his targets from the DRADIS, trying to jam up the enemy as much as he can.
If Eva managed to hit the raider she was going for isn't clear, as it it blossoms into a fireball thanks to the quick shooting Squeak, "Nice work, Squeak. We really need to try to give you uys more than four missiles." With her sights clear, she moves in on the next closest target, which looks to be one going after Sweetpea.
Tauron gets rapidly bigger in Van's windscreen, especially now that the flames of re-entry have died out and his speed slowed by wind resistance. Not slowed much however, his altimeter is winding down quickly enough that it would be distressing in other circumstances.
The two swarms of ships collide - not literally, of course, but figuratively - as the Colonials wade into the mess of Cylon fighters. While many of the Cylons do turn to fight, the heavies seem to be quite intent on continuing their path south, and a bunch of the Cylons are escorting them rather than duking it out directly with the Vipers.
Jigger and SweetPea both take minor hits, but it doesn't seem to be slowing them down. A whoop from Jigger announces his takedown of one of the Raiders.
Calliope keeps her course as straight-ahead as she can manage. Triple-checking her view and instruments to make sure no Cylons are dogging her. As if she's unwilling to believe her tail is clear. "What the frak are they doing?" she mutters to Mince, as he relays the activity of the heavies. Her ECO has no answers, but he continues to monitor them while sending out interference at their enemies.
"Should get the deck chief right on that, Cherry." Niemec's voice is tight, but not as strained as it was initially. Some solid hits and avoiding the fire coming her way? Well, it's done wonders for the pilot's demeanor. At least for the moment. Things aren't going great for everyone, however, so only time will tell. "How're those reinforcements coming?" This, to Jaxon.
"That's for Canceron you frakking sons of toasters." So what if they're over Tauron, Jaxon has his loyalties. He's readjusting his controls, picking out whichever of the DRADIS pings are getting too close to friendlies for his comfort. "Reinforcements are inbound, they'll be here in a bit. Seems our Tauron friends aren't doing too poorly either." After a moment and in a much lower voice. "I hope."
"Flight, Milkman, I'm seeing a group of toasters trying to push through. Do you want the Alert Vipers on them or on you?" The heavies and their escorts outnumber the Alert fighters rather severely, but Van sounds game enough. He can't exactly tell where the Galactica's Vipers are, not without checking his DRADIS a whole lot more closely than he has been as he knifes down through the upper atmosphere. "We might not be able to stop them, but we could certainly slow them down."
Frak it, Cherry just can't seem to get out of her own way, as she misses her shot on the cyper targeting Sweetpea completely. Not a mistake the cyper makes and Sweetpea takes yet more damage, "Bow out if you need to, Sweetpea." For her part, Eva swings back around for another shot.
"Nice shooting guys," Kallas praises, not doing too bad himself as a KEW burst takes down one of the Raiders. Van's query causes him to look at the Heavies, who are still pretty close to the main dogfight but definitely veering off. "Galactica birds - head after those heavies. Don't know what they're up to but it's probably nothing good. Don't leave yourself open to the Raiders though if you can't get clear. We'll be right there with you Milkman."
"Copy that Cherry. My dials are pegged, pulling out," reports SweetPea. Her bird noses up towards the sky.
At the order, Niemec adjusts their trajectory to start their way towards those heavies as directed. It's not long before she lets out a quiet string of swears. Off-comm and in Tauran. But the radio is soon flipped on: "Flight, those Heavies have something... Never seen it before. Looks almost like bombs, but I can't tell." She leans back, calling over her shoulder: "Chewtoy, see if you can run some scans. Or at least capture some footage." And then to the radios again: "Be careful shooting them down. Just in case."
Calliope lets herself breathe a faint sigh of relief as the Fleet - and Tauron - pilots continue to work through the mass of Cylons. A very faint one. She's still side-eyeing those heavies. Her missiles warmed, she works her targeting system to try and establish a lock.
"Come straight up, SweetPea. Alert Vipers can clear your trail if anyone tries to follow. Milkman and company ETA thirty seconds." With the reference of SweatPea's damaged Viper pulling up, it's easier for Van to spot where the Galactica's compliment is in relation to the Cylon heavies, "We're going to come in with a high-speed yo-yo, go in guns blazing and flare out beneath to hit them from below." There's a pause, and he adds a little grudgingly, "Watch their payload."
"Copy that, I'll see what I can do." Chewtoy sets his console to keep attention on those heavies, hopefully one of them using whatever their payload is in range of one of the cameras. Or not at all. Not at all would be good. "Running a little low on missles up there, at least you're making them count." He shifts on his chair, grabbing the controls for the Kew, taking aim at one of the raiders.
"You are not going to be the one to take me down today." Cherry is clearly talking to the heavy that seems to be gunning for her. And it comes just after she gets in a good hit and manages to evade being hit herself. She hasn't quite gotten a handle on where the incoming alert vipers are, so she just keeps doing what she was doing.
"Can anybody make out what those things are?" Kallas wonders, squinting a bit as he comes up behind one of the Heavies. "Either way we've gotta take them down. Whatever it is, better that shit goes off here than over some civvies."
The massive dogfight continues. The Colonials aren't doing too badly actually, despite being outnumbered. But there are already more ships (or pieces of them) at the bottom of the lake.
The Cyper that follows the Galactica contingent gets a lucky shot off of one of Niemec's wings. Her Raptor's wings, that is. The woman swears under her breath, hitting a few controls. The missiles are left off for the moment... perhaps out of concern for what they may do to the Heavies and their unfamiliar payloads. Or perhaps due to being down to just two. "Chewtoy, how we lookin'?"
Calliope adjusts her targeting toward those heavies. "Copy, Smackdown. Missiles engaged, trying to establish a lock." Hands tight on her controls, but with more focus than she had during the long 'quiet' stretch of CAP. She still gives her read-outs the occasional side-eye for something internal trying to kill her. But there are too many external things trying to kill her comrades and a great many things on Tauron for her to be too concerned about system boogeymen.
Van whips past SweetPea on her way out of the fight, and then the Alert fighters are in the fight, flashing down into the formation of Heavies at something insane like a seventy-five or eighty degree dive. Even at the height they're flying, it's not going to leave a lot of extra room to flare out beneath. Enough, but not a lot extra. "Milkman, engaging."
"No! You do not shoot my raptor." Jaxon readjusts his grip on the Kew, taking aim at the cyper that has the utter gall to damage their ship. "Just a graze, we should be fine, I'm still trying to get a read on whatever it is those heavies have, not having much luck on that."
Chewtoy lets out an annoyed grumble and leaves the gun controls. "Take care of that Cyper and I'll see what I can get on those things." Jaxon dashes back to his console, moving the optics to get a better look at one of the closer in heavies.
"Nice to see you, Milkman. Are we going to let that heavy taunt us like that?" Cherry throttles up, once again getting in a decent hit and evading the heavy's own guns. She wheels back around, moving in for hopefully what will be her final attack on the heavy gunning for her.
"You'd better. I'll be out of munitions soon." But this time, Niemec does manage to avoid the Cyper's KEW fire and instead gets in a solid target with the missile. Solid and yet... it doesn't go down. She swears, again, in Tauran. Colorfully. It is her native tongue, after all. "Flight, I think these guys ate their protein this morning." Ain't none of them going down just yet. She mumbles to herself, beginning to key in her final missile. "Hope you've got some news for me, Chewie!"
"Ohmygods frakking die!" Calliope yells at the heavy as her missile connects...and the thing keeps flying. She's high-pitched and outraged. Off-comm, fortunately, but Mince gets to enjoy it. He winces, and continues monitoring the DRADIS. Frowning and the map. Calliope is also frowning, as the air clears, and she makes a low "Huh" sound as Mince fixes on a particular set of coordinates the heavies are tracking. "Flight, Bullseye. My ECO is tracking the course of those heavies. Looks like they're headed straight for Illi Dam. Not for the view, I am guessing."
Van triggers his guns just before he flashes through the formation of Heavies, heavy KEW rounds punching through his target's chassis. And then he's past, the Picon pilot grunting against G-forces as he pulls out of the steep dive. His vision darkens around the edges, closing in on him, and then he's through the flare-out, zoom-climbing back up toward the Heavies now above him. "Sorry, Cherry, I came all the way down from heaven for you too." Someone is apparently in a good mood -- or the adrenaline of the dive and the ground too-close-for-comfort beneath him is getting to him.
"Flight, Chewtoy. This is going to sound insane, but it looks like those heavies are lugging torpedos. Those hit the water, I don't know if we can target them." Jaxon is no longer concerned with the the gun, switching over to try and jam up the heavies as much as he possibly can to keep them from their targets.
"We'll just have tyo fly in after them. I'm waterproof." Well, until the water floods Cherry's engines.
"What the hell are these things made of? They both just ate a missile." Kallas is at once disbelieving and kind of impressed by the toughness of the Heavies. Jaxon's report gets an incredulous, "Torpedos? What the hell?" But then Calliope's comment about their course suddenly makes sense. "Frak me, they're trying to blow the dam." And fast approaching it. "Bring those frakkers down, guys."
"Well. I feel better shooting them down." Torpedos aren't as likely to just 'go off' on them. Not any more than standard missiles might. Niemec takes a deep breath, hitting the radio. "Shakedown, think we can at least divert them? Shake them off their targets?"
"Milkman, stay on your target. I'm going to see if I can catch one of the other heavies before they get too close to that dam." That said, Eva peels off, moving to approach one of the heavies that looks as though it's taken the least amount of damage.
"You think you can play chicken with one and not get dead, go for it," Kallas responds to Niemec's suggestion. He swears under his breath as his shot goes wide, and notices Jigger's front end take a hit with smoke and sparks. "You okay Jigger?"
"Uhhhh... not so much boss. Sticks not cooperating, I need to bug out." Kallas tells him to do it, and Jigger breaks off.
"motherFRAKKER!" Niemec's final missile misses one of the Heavies as it evades. Her and the CAG's shots. The woman hits the stick and starts to adjust her trajectory. "Chewtoy, if you've got any protest, say it now. 'Cause I'm outta missiles and not one of those frakkers has come down yet." Is Squeak upset? Yes, she is. Is there a hint as to how she got her callsign? Why yes, there is! On the comms, "We'll see what we can do, boss." Does she beeline right for the lead Heavy? No. But she is trying to give the impression of it. An attempt to perhaps cause it to veer off course. If only long enough for the others to take it down.
"Get one of those heavies in range of the kew and I'll blast it." Once more Jaxon is darting away from the ECO station and moving to the gunnery controls. "Okay, time to shine. Counting on you, Squeak." He takes a few deep breaths and gets ready to aim on a moment's notice.
Once more, Van depresses his trigger as he approaches his target, spraying down the big aircraft before his quite-substantial kinetic energy takes him back up through the formation of heavies once more. "No problem, Cherry. I've got this one." He hopes. "Hang in there, Jigger. It's a lot harder to SAR out of a lake than it is a hillside." Even as he yo-yos up over the formation, the Picon pilot starts to roll, looking down out of the side of his cockpit at the heavies bulling their way across the lake.
Calliope lets out a squeak of high-pitched triumph as the Heavy she was targeting does properly explode. "You're sure it's dead? Like, quadruple-sure?" she asks Mince. Her paranoia having shifted to indestructible Cylons. Her ECO assures her that their Cylon quarry did, in fact, blow up. Her eyes flick to briefly follow Niemec's course, widening slightly as they track the other Raptor pilot. Mince barks at her before she gets too caught up in her comrade's show, and she gets back to trying to blow up Cylons.
"Nice shooting, Bullseye!" Hard to miss a missile coming close to your face...in the grand scheme of things. "Keep hammering at them. Only two of them left and they're both limping. She'll stay on the one she's tracking now. Hopefully she can finish this damned thing off.
"Hold tight to your hats, gentlemen." Even if there's only one aboard and gentleman is debatable. Niemec kicks in the engines a bit stronger, angling in towards the Heavy. This is the sort of situation where jokes that Raptor pilots are weaker than Viper pilots may come into question. It might just be the adrenaline, but she flies well. Well enough to distract the cylon from his course and make him a riper target. Maybe not enough to get him to entirely veer off-course or to crash into one of his buddies, but her own bird comes out on the other side unscathed. "Please tell me you hit him," she calls to her backseater, pulling around for another pass on any outliers.
"Apollo's tits!" In a mush mouthed Tauron comes from Chewtoy. "What are these toasters made of?! Confirmed hit, but gods this thing won't go down." He cranes his head behinds him, trying to get his eyes on the DRADIS, then back to the gunnery controls. "Get me one more pass and I swear I'll send it plummeting."
The dam looms ahead of them, the fast-moving ships closing the distance rapidly. The Taurons have a good many of the miscellaneous Raiders and Vipers occupied behind them, but the dogfight still rages on. "Good shooting. Bring the rest of those frakkers down, guys," Kallas says, even as his KEW breaks some more plating off the back of one. "They blow that dam, it'll flood the whole valley."
"Not quite nice enough. That frakker's still flying." Calliope winces as she spends her last missile, making some hasty course correction. "Coming about. Seeing if I can get Mince a decent angle to take some pot-shots.
Van wings over from his curl above the heavies, taking a solid hit across the wing from his target and pulling the turn all the tighter. That means that his blaze of KEW fire comes in at a sharper angle, and although he manages a third hit, it's not as solid as the first two. Luckily enough, however, it sends the heavy Cylon craft swerving toward one of its fellows, and then skipping violently across the surface of the lake, "Milkman, splash one." Literally. Now he's behind the Cylon craft, however, and so he moderates his speed, boring in directly behind one of the big ships in a direct approach despite the Cyper blazing in on him. "I've picked up a trailer, but I'll deal with him after the big boys."
If I didn't know any better, I'd swear it was Gopnik in that raptor! Hell of a good shot, Bullseye! I take back everything I ever said about you Ensigns." Between the two of them, Cherry and Bullseye manage to take down one of the heavies, and she dives, trying to move in to clear the last, though it may not be in time.
One of the heavies is brought down on its attack run, splashing into the lake in a flurry of busted-up parts. The last one, though, despite being shot to hell and back, leaking fluid and trailing smoke, manages to loose its two torpedoes into the water. They disappear from view for a few seconds, but then there's a plume of water as one of them goes off. The dam's still standing, though, so that's a plus.
In spite of frakking with the remaining Heavy, it still gets through. Past KEW fire, past Niemec's flying practically down it's nose. The torpedoes loose and the Captain lets up a bit on the tyllium drive. "Frak me," she mutters, drawing around to let the guncams get a good view of the plume of water. "Could be worse," she appends, but it doesn't seem to brighten her mood at all. "Shakedown, any way we can get aid from Galactica to help repair that before it worsens?" If they can. No one wants to see a valley flooded. "...And have any evacuations been started, as a precaution?"
Van should have paid more attention to his tail. He gets a solid shot in on the heavy bird in front of him, tearing into its side. On the other hand, the Cyper stitches a long burst across the body of his Viper, just behind the cockpit, and half a dozen warning lights and buzzers go off at once. And suddenly Van is trying to control a Viper that's going rather fast, rather low to the surface of the water... while the tail has begun to slip this way and that behind him, and his ship is starting to trail a thin wisp of smoke. "Milkman, I'm hit," again, actually, "but I think I can stay with it."
Calliope slams her Raptor into position, and her ECO lays heavy on their rear gun. This time, she lets her high-pitched, "WooooooYeah!" go out over the comm. "Cherry, I think that one's gone. Unless it, like, zombies in mid-air." It's kind of a joke. But, given some of the Cylons they're facing at the moment, kind of not. The celebration is short-lived, however, as her attention goes down to the water. And the dam, and that tell-tale plume of a torpedo in the water. She wrenches her ship around, but can't move into firing position in the big bus that quickly. Her ECO's fingers fly over his console as he gets back on the jammers.
Kallas sucks in a breath as the torpedos are launched. "Ah hell..." But then the dam survives, and he lets out a relieved sigh. "All right, finish those bastards off and then we'll go back to lend the Tauron fellas a hand. That's for the bosslady to figure out, Squeak. We worry about those fighters."
Jaxon lets out a rather impressive stream of curses as the heavy looses it cargo into the water. Followed by a very angry sounding growl in the back of his throat when he runs out of words to express his displeasure with the situation. "No, that thing is going down. And it's going down hard."
There's tension in Niemec's shoulders again. Not as much, but the pilot is being a bit rough at the controls as they angle to rejoin the Tauran flight and finish out the rest of the cylon forces. "Frak," she mutters, even as the Heavy is finally taken out. There's a slow draw of breath. She's trying to brace herself. "You did well, Chewtoy." This, offered in a quieter tone, to the ECO. "Can't win 'em all. At least we took most out." It could've been a damn sight worse.
Hopefully not a moment too late, but the final heavy goes down under the combined efforts of Hibernia, Leonis, and Canceron. Who says there's no intercolonial cooperation going on on Galactica? "I just hope that that second torpedo didn't do any damage." Since they can't see them once the launch, and all. As Cherry hears Kallas' new orders, she does as instructed and eventually does head back to help the native sons and daughters of Tauron defend their homeland. Very patriotic. Natch.
The last three fighters from the breakaway group are brought down in short order. Kallas doesn't sound entirely thrilled with the outcome, but nor does he sound upset. "Not bad, guys. Could've been a lot worse. Lets go help the Taurons clean up. Anyone whose ship took a beating, pull out if you need to."
Calliope keeps biting her lip, blue eyes lingering on the dam before another turn pulls them away from it. She gets her ship back into a more aligned formation, Raptor a little behind and wide of the Vipers.
It's almost like the unpredictable hitches and twitches the damage has inflicted on Van's fighter is helping, as the Cyper can't manage to land another solid hit -- or any hit at all. He turns, he twists, at one point getting low enough to the water that his Viper's jetstream leaves a wash of white water behind it, and then he has it... a high-deflection shot, but he punches several bullets into the body of the Cyper, sending it pinwheeling down to break up on the surface of the lake. He doesn't call out that kill, instead craning his neck for another target, and then looking over his controls, "Smackdown, Milkman. Should one of the Raptors take a close scan of the dam to see how badly damaged it is?"
Even though his pilot is trying to cheer him up, Jaxon looks slightly miserable about the whole thing. "Well, obviously I need to work on my gunnery. A few more hits and that damn dam wouldn't have even handled that much." He steps away from the gun controls and drops back into his seat at the ECO station, monitoring the DRADIS to make sure nothing is lurking out of sight.
"We can tell them if the damn thing's sprung a leak, Milkman, but beyond that, there's not much we can do." Their scanners aren't really designed to assess structural integrity, and there's not much you can eyeball. Between Galactica's ships and the Tauron ones, they mop up the remaining Cylons in short order. They confirm that the dam doesn't seem to be sagging, leaking or otherwise looking like it's about to implode. Then the cleanup begins. Some stick around to fish downed pilots out of the cold lake and provide security, but for the rest? It's back to the barn.