Breaking the Veil (Commissioned NuBSG/BT crossover)

[MarkWarrior]

Breaking the Veil (Shipping Ships)

Year: 1984C
Location: Caprica

"I'm so tired of the back and forth on all of this," Manakis complained, leaning over the lunch table. "Decommission these ships. No, never mind, don't decommission these ships. Just strip the weapons out of them and wipe the computers."

"We get paid the same either way," Patrick Gibbs shrugged, spooning hot soup into his mouth. "Hell, it's easier to just strip components and wipe computers than it is to do the full decommission or, gods forbid, having to mothball everything."

"It's the principle of the matter, Patrick!" Manakis protested, throwing his arms up. "The back and forth is unnecessary!"

"Manny," Patrick shook his head. "It's a pair of Orions, a Demeter, and a Defender. It's not like they're having us strip down an Artemis, a Jupiter, or a Loki. It'll all be over in a few weeks. Besides, this way we get to earn overtime."

"I suppose," Manakis sighed. "I'm just tired of seeing the old ships put to pasture, I guess."

"Then you should be happy we're not sending them to the scrap heap," Harper said, the older man setting his tray down beside Manakis and dipping some bread into his soup. "This way, they at least get to live a good while longer," Harper chewed thoughtfully. "Way I see it, this isn't a waste of taxpayer dollars like the old process was. I dunno about you two, but I hated seeing my part of my check going to the boneyards."

"At least the boneyards are a good source of spare parts for the ships we're keeping in service," Manakis replied. "We don't even know where these four are going."

"Probably bought and paid for by a corporation, if I had to guess," Patrick offered his opinion. "My daughter says the university is always sending out missions to look into things in deep space. Lotta space on some of those ships for all kinds of equipment."

"Maybe on the Defender," Manakis agreed. "But not on the other three classes we're stripping down. Those barely have the crew space for a hundred and fifty people. Two hundred in the case of the Demeter. The whole point of those ships was to pack tons of weapons on them in place of armor. Without the weapons, what's the point?"

"I guess we'll find out eventually," Patrick finished his soup. "I'm cutting my break short. Jamie's college ain't gonna pay for itself!"

"I think the government's working with the Cylons, selling them the old hulks and hoping that we're not paying attention," Harper said after a moment. "Giving the machines the chance to take a look at how we do things before they strike again."

"Harper," Manakis sighed again. "The Cylons helped us build most of these ships before they rebelled. They already know how they worked. Your meds are wearing off again."

Manakis reached into the old man's bag and pulled out a couple of pills.

"C'mon Harper, I want you back to your usual self before we head back out there."

 

[MarkWarrior]

Science!

Date: July 8, 3000
Location: Taurian Joint Technology Institute, Alamo


"Dammit!" Doctor Home slammed his fist into the desk, the metal having been dented over the last three years.

"Still at seventy-five percent?" Doctor Susan Lee asked.

"Yeah," Home sighed, allowing his head to sag. "We've stalled out over the last three years, and I can't figure out what we're doing wrong in the simulations. We've tried everything."

"Well," Susan sat in her chair and leaned back. "Not quite everything," She tapped her chin. "Due to safety concerns, they wouldn't allow us to test it as effectively as we wanted to. But, if one of us were to take the modified Raptor out for a joyride…"

"Runs a risk of either of us not coming back at all," Home replied. "But the last of our funding's about to dry up, and I don't want to end up like Kearny or Fuchida."

"Famous for the rest of time?" Susan asked.

"Laughingstock until long after their deaths," Home shook his head, struggling to think of a different way to do this before sighing again. "I'll take the Raptor out and see if I can make a jump to the gas giant. I'll keep a constant communication line to you and will be feeding you all of the data I can."

"Remember, seventy-five percent chance of success means you're more likely to successfully jump than not," Susan tried to reassure her partner.

"It only has to fail once for me to die horribly," Home chuckled darkly. "A one in four chance of that doesn't exactly inspire confidence. Still, better me than you. You're the expert at putting the data together. I'm just the engineering side of things."

"We're both critical to this, Home," Susan rolled her eyes. "Now, let's either start prepping for this. If we don't do it now, you know that neither of us will do it at all and then we'll have to sell off our research to make ends meet."

"That or go work for the universities," Home shrugged. "You enjoy lecturing."

"Sure, but you don't," Susan replied. "And we went into this together, we're going to make it work together. So, let's get that Raptor ready and see what we can do to put as many sensors in it as possible. "

"I'll let the staff know what the plan is," Home stood up, grabbing his clipboard before nodding towards the doorway that led to the rest of the offices. "We'll have things ready by next week."

---

Date: July 15, 3000

"This is Doctor James Home, preparing for first functional prototype test of the Fusion powered FTL drive," the scientist whispered into the mic for the recorder and the radio.

"Confirmed, Doctor," Susan's voice replied. "We've got ships on standby for recovery if things go wrong. You can proceed with the test."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Home muttered. "Initiating test, let's see what kind of data we can get out of this."

Tapping a control to his right, Home began to divert power to the Kobolian FTL drive that had been mated to a fusion reactor. One heartbeat, two, he watched as power levels spiked and then leveled out.

"Power levels are good; it seems the capacitors are holding steady. Preparing to dump the capacitors into the drive itself."

Hovering his hand over a button, Home hesitated for a brief second before jamming his thumb down and initiating the energy transfer. The feeds flickered for a second before updating with the power transfer. A fraction of a second later, the Raptor winked out of existence and then back into it.

"Shit," Home swore as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. It looked like they'd had some sort of power failure after the successful test. He just hoped that the power failure wasn't a sign that they were moving down the wrong research area.

As the emergency backup generators kicked on, Home sighed. He was going to have to figure out the drive on his own. Because he wasn't in the Alamo system anymore. Thankfully, it seemed he was just one system over, so a jump back shouldn't be too dangerous. It was just going to be a much longer trip than he'd planned for, and he'd never liked MREs.

"No EM pulse that fried the electronics," Home began to take stock of the actual systems. "Looks like most of the sensors were intact and recorded everything. Now I just need to get back home."

---

"Doctor Home, are you there?" Susan asked. "I repeat, Doctor Home, are you alive?"

"No response, ma'am," the radio tech nearby shook his head. "Kobolian and Taurian ships are being dispatched for Search and Rescue now."

"Let's hope they find him in one piece," Susan buried her head in her hands. "If nothing else, please tell me we got some of the data right before the jump."

"Data burst was transmitted," the tech confirmed. "We got most of the engine data, but I'm sure that wherever he is, Doctor Home has more."

"Alright," Susan replied, picking her head up out of her hands. "Start decrypting the data and we'll see what it tells us about the prototype. There's not a whole lot we can do in the void that the people who are currently up there can't do better than us. So, let's try and get this improved before Home gets back."

"What if Doctor Home is dead?" An undergraduate asked, raising her hand.

"Then I'm going to have to find another engineer to help," Susan glared. "But he's not dead, so we don't have to worry about it. Now, we've got more information. Let's see what we can do to finish this project."

The room didn't move.

"I'm not paying any of y'all to stand around and feel sorry. We have a job to do, and we're going to do it."

A few more uncomfortable seconds later, and the people dispersed to do their various tasks, leaving Susan alone in the room.

"Come on home, James," Susan muttered. "Don't make me finish this project myself…"

Author's Note: I am now caught up to the commissioned backlog!