During the next eleven days the convoy repelled multiple pirate raids. Somehow the Pirate lords got wind of the convoy, but the attempts to stop and raid it had little result. Long before the attacks were carried out, the Viper patrols and sensor systems of the escort fleet had already seen the raiders coming. All it achieved was thinning the pirate fleet numbers while they barely delayed the resupply fleet. With the combined effort of the imperial escorts and Invictus they managed to destroy four frigates and multiple Cobra Destroyers. Apparently the pirates didn't count on a tough escort with swarms of strike craft bearing down on them like a swarm of angry bees.

When the convoy was not in combat, the Invictus ran drill after drill while keeping up patrols. Mainly because of this. Commander Widmann came to see the value of the Battlestar and found respect for its commander. With Invictus controlling the space around, the imperial escorts were free to move as they saw fit, increasing their options tenfold.

When the convoy arrived at the edge of the system, all of the Invictus' crew had a sight to behold.

Far in the distance, behind dust clouds and debris one could see the immense concert of flashes and explosions of a battle being waged. Every now and then, a keen eye could make out the ships silhouettes before disappearing again. Closer to the lines there were ships flying off and on towards their objectives.

On the staging ground behind the lines there were multiple ships waiting for their precious supplies. Though most ships were massive in size, they drifted with majestic grace towards the convoy.

Now however came the stage where the resupply fleet was at its most vulnerable.

In the CIC both senior officers were busy leading patrols and keeping the resupply operation covered.

The Invictus had positioned herself on the flank while the other escorts surrounded the other directions. Though no enemy was present at the time, every man was at his station and all guns were raised from their nests.

"I don't like sitting around like this John." Colonel Howard remarked. "We're a sitting duck out here."

"We are way behind the frontlines Colonel."

"Are we? We have at least half a dozen ships of the line stationery out there with buckets of ammo strapped to their hull. All it takes is one torpedo, one lucky shot to get through and the ship lights up like a firework show!"

"Why do you think we have so many Vipers patrolling out there? Take it easy Howard. If anyone is out there we'll find them before they get too close."

"Have we received our orders yet?" Lieutenant Goradin stepped up to the conn while buttoning up his collar.

"Not yet. The last we've heard was two days ago, us covering the resupply operation. Haven't heard from him since." XO Howard answered.

"It shouldn't take too much longer. Mourndark isn't one to let ships just sit around while they could do something useful. Though I must say he doesn't really value carriers. He values armour and cannons over strike craft. In his eyes carriers are more of a burden than an asset."

"Knowing this, where would he station us?" Price asked while pulling out the situation map.

"We would never be placed in the main fleet. No offence but in his eyes this ship is still a wildcard. My guess would be either the Rear guard or the Vanguard." Goradin noted while pointing at the respective positions on the map.

"We would be ordered to either cover the rear, or scout on ahead of the main fleet. In that case we'd be looking for mines, traps, any sign of offensives and the sort."

"As long as we stay out of those asteroid fields we should be ok. DRADIS is useless in there."

"What do you mean?"

"With so much stuff flying about in those fields the system can't see the difference between a spacecraft and an asteroid. Besides, even if it could see ships, the only thing the bad guy has to do is hide behind one of those rocks and we'd never know. The same goes for our fighters, so if we go in there we have to rely on the Mk1 Eyeball. Our IR sensors may spot something, but the enemy can hide from that as well."

"If we can't go in we have to make the other guy come out."

"Indeed Daemus. We have to lure them out to be precise."

In the past twelve days Mercer Trune had been flying almost non-stop. The classes about Viper tactics and flying the actual patrols next to his training were exhausting. His instructor set the bar very high and kept pushing him further and harder. Somehow he wondered how some imperial squadrons would look and function if men like Bingo trained the men. He never raised his voice unless absolutely necessary, always remained calm and didn't scold you if you made a mistake, save for a grave one. But if you failed to meet his expectations he didn't shout or scream like most Imperial taining officers. He just looked you in the eye with utter disappointment, which in its own right was worse than the former.

In any case, although the training was exhausting, he got a better feeling for his Viper the longer he flew it and grew to like it. He still prefered his Fury over the tiny craft, but he began to see its charm. The first few flights he still struggled to control the craft just after launch and needed a minute to straighten out. This was of course coupled with his signature hurricane of bad language which earned him the nickname "Storm". Though he found this habit strange he did prefer this to 'Nugget', which was still his first nickname. Even though the difference of culture and uniform separated him from the other pilots, he was treated with respect. The others pulled a chair over and asked him to join in off-duty card games and the occasional drinks while sharing stories. Though this ship has hardly seen combat outside of this sector, a lot of pilots were veterans of some hostile action.

The oldest veteran appeared to be his instructor. According to the pilots Bingo was a decorated veteran of what they called 'The First Cylon War', although he rarely wore his medals. He was offered promotions multiple times, but he wanted to keep flying so he declined them all. So after all this time he still flies the same bird he flew all those years ago. Regardless of the stories told, every time the name 'Bingo' came across the table it was soon followed with: "Pay attention to what that old man says. It may save your life one day." And that he did.

For Mercer the time for training was over. The ship was now in an active war zone so it needed every pilot and plane that could fly. So there he was, flying a Combat Patrol near the resupply area as Bingo's wingman. He felt sharp and ready to go. Bingo was less excited and held him back a bit. Nevertheless from the moment his Viper blasted out of the launch tube, Mercer kept his finger close to the Master Arm button. He wanted to be ready to punch in a moments notice. He would get his wish soon enough....

The radio within his Viper soon cracked to life. A distorted voice sounded through his helmet:

"Invictus to all Vipers. Emergency recall. Three enemy contacts bearing 278 carum 064. Regroup at point Charlie. Orders are to Engage and Destroy all hostiles. Acknowledge on same frequency."

An attack? Now? "Copy Invictus. You got that message Storm?"

"Copy that Bingo. Ready to go on your command."

"Return to point Charlie, all fighters will regroup on us. We will cover the strikers which come behind us. Don't worry, we'll get some shots in."

Out of his canopy he could see the massive hulk of Invictus come about and move itself between the resupply fleet and the attacking force. At the same time dozens of fighters and strike craft took up formation on his wing while others were shot out of their launch tubes. Pretty soon the formation consisted of numerous fighters and strike craft, all loaded for bear. From the front the formation looked like a big honeycomb while from the side it looked like a giant wedge. Bingo was in command and lead the formation towards its respective target. Moments later Mercer saw huge balls of light speeding towards the enemy. Looking down to his left he could see the entire back of Invictus light up with cannon fire. Each shell was accelerated with such violence that the rear of it lit up like a fireball.

Nearby Firestorm and Sword frigate squadrons reformed their formations, ready to support the Fighter assault.

"All Vipers, Fence in!" Bingo called in through his radio. Following this order all lights were extinguished and weapons were armed.

Every fighter activated and locked its missiles on the incoming raiders, awaiting the command to fire. Mercer had locked his missiles and flipped the launch cover on his control stick with his thumb. He could hear the missile growling in his headset, ready to go.

The call came: "Launch missiles!"

He pressed the button on his control stick, punching two missiles off to speed towards their targets moments later. Every fighter launched two missiles at their respective targets, forming almost a cloud of them speeding away. Seconds later the formation broke off to make room for the strikers. While looking through the side of his cockpit, Mercer could see the impacts of what seemed to be dozens of missiles. Some were intercepted by the defence guns, but more than enough went through and severely damaged the pirate vessels.

Before the missiles hit, the enemy vessels managed to fire off a spread of torpedoes now speeding towards the imperial supply vessels.

Price had been watching the battle unfold from the CIC. when the call came in of inbound torpedoes, he immediately scrambled defence fighters to intercept. Invictus and nearby frigates were already in a good position to defend with its FLAK batteries and take any hits necessary. With the viper squadrons making quick work of the pirate vessels, he had ordered his batteries to focus on incoming ordnance only. If any torpedo got through, Invictus could take the hit, the transports couldn't.

"New Contacts! Two vessels bearing 303 long range."

"Can you identify them Goradin?"

"They appear to be Idolator frigates. They have long range Lances. I advise taking them out fast. If they fire on the unprotected transports..."

"It gets real messy, understood. XO, direct the Blacksharks to intercept and destroy. They are cleared to engage at will."

"Aye sir!" Howard replied before relaying the order.

In the back of the painted black two-seat Strike Viper, the Weapons Systems Officer was franticly working his targeting systems and Jamming equipment. Though the pressure was high, both he and his pilot were as calm as could be. Every man in the Blacksharks was the same, like a squadron signature. There was a reason why they were the elite. Not everyone was cut out to be like them, to handle nuclear weapons like they do. So whenever a hard job needed doing, they were the ones to be called.

Now his squadron of black strikers was flying towards their target, all readying to jam every sensor and weapons system in the nearby area in an attempt to blind the enemy.

"Target in sight, locking on" the officer said to his pilot.

"Copy that Wizzo. How long till in range?"

"30 seconds. Music on?"

"Music on!" All jammers jumped on and blinded any sensor in range. If any point defence gun had a shooting solution, they had lost it now. Without reliable weapons lock, the guns blasted into the void hoping to hit something.

A calm voice sounded through the wireless: "Start your attack run."

The nearby Firestorm squadron fired their lances at the incoming pirate frigates in anticipation of the strikers attack. At least two frigates fired in rapid succession. Their lance blasts impacted the void shields of the red ships, putting strain on the shield generator.

Dozens of tailless shark-mouthed StrikeVipers raced towards their targets and shot off their nuclear warheads without mercy. Once the missiles left the rail the vipers turned and got out of range. Though at this range they could take the blast, they preferred not to take any chances. Besides, the missiles with their advanced tracking systems didn't need any supporting guidance.

Like hawks diving on their prey the missiles blasted through the point defence barrier and impacted the idolators Void shields. The resulting blast was tremendous, overloading the void-shield generator, knocking out several systems and dazzling the crew. The EMP left behind rendered the idolators blind for a while.

"Targets hit and damaged"

"They're still alive and mobile. Second wave, commence attack"

The idolators had survived the first attack, but they wouldn't survive the second wave. With their void-shields down they were an easy target for the nuclear warheads carried by the attackers and the lances of the distant Firestorm frigates. All that would remain was irradiated and glowing hot debris.

"Commander, Viper flights confirm the destruction of enemy vessels. Nothing left but wreckage"

"Very well. Signal Major Burke to get his planes back on board and leave a CAP. Let Mourndark know the indolators have been dealt with. Signal nearby ships to steer clear of the wrecks. Unexploded ammo may still go off."

Moments after the message was sent, the comms specialist called out the answer.

"Sir, we've got a reply from Mourndark, but it's coded. I need the decryption key."

Deamus Goradin tore his eyes away from the DRADIS screen. "Commander, with your permission. I think I may be of help."

Price nodded and ordered the comms specialist to stand aside and allowed Goradin to take his seat.

"We have many security codes for various degrees of rank and threats. Usually I don't have this high clearance, but since I am the highest ranking officer on this ship...." he paused and started typing.

"As this would likely be deployment orders, the code would likely be Beta-sigma or beta-centouri..... Got it!"

As he typed in the latter code the message started to decrypt.

"Nice work. Lets see what the Admiral has to say."

++++++++

Priority message security code Beta-Centouri

From: Strategic Fleet Command Babarus Fleet, Admiral Mourndark.

To: Commander Price, Battlestar Invictus.

Regarding: Operational orders

-----Message begins:----

Actions defending resupply fleet well done and appreciated.

When Rear-Guard resupply operation complete, take station at the Rear-Guard Fleet.

Cover the angles from flanking attacks.

Contact Read-Admiral McCallun for deployment details.

Good hunting,

The Emperor protects.

----Message ends----

++++++++

Colonel Howard was the first to comment. "Was about time we got our orders. Took em long enough."

"True, but now at least we know what the fleet expects of us. What is the status of the resupply op?"

"About two hours left, providing we don't have any issues." Deamus read of his clipboard.

"Good. Contact the Rear-Admiral. Let him know when we'll be ready. What are our losses up till now? Howard?"

"Flight ops has just begun recovering our craft. We have 20 planes damaged of which 9 severely. No losses yet, but we'll have a complete list once everyone is aboard."

"Very well. Keep me informed. Navigator, get me all the info on the outskirts of the system you can get."

"Working on it sir!" the young man answered with a frustrated undertone. He seemed to struggle with the console. Errors and garbled data kept appearing on the screen.

Price and Howard walked up to the console. "Specialist, what is going on?"

"I don't know, sir. Hang on..." he continued typing, trying to find what was going on when suddenly the screen lighted up like a lightbulb and shut down in a rain of sparks. Quickly he scrambled to get a diagnostic tool and started running tests. After a few moments he emerged from the console.

"Power surge energized the board. Systems have been twitchy ever since the Cylons attacked the colonies. Maybe they had infiltrated our computer before we broke the network."

"Mr Tandor, this is more than a twitch." and Price walked back to the Chart table.

"The Commander is right. I don't care if you have to go through this program line by line. Fix it."

"Excuse me Colonel?"

"You heard me..."

"Sir! I'm running every diagnostic we've got. Checking each line of code could take days."

"I am not interested in excuses. Fix it!"

"It is not an excuse, SIR! It's a Fracking FACT!" he emphasized the last word with a loud kick to the console. The CIC fell silent and all eyes were turned on him.

Price approached the navigator again. "Mr Tandor, Pull yourself together." he said with a calm voice.

"Yes sir. Sorry sir." with that said he returned to the console and began the work. Price again walked back to the charting table where Colonel Howard was waiting for him.

"What the hell is his problem?"

"Months on the run and what do we have to show for it? Casualties, new battles, deteriorating conditions. He is not the first. I've witnessed a few arguments in the mess. The men are getting on edge."

"This crew needs a rest."

"It's finally hitting them Mark. Their old lives are gone. The only thing we have to look forward to is this."

Goradin witnessed this happening from the sidelines. Strange as it may be, he did not know how to react or what to think of this. To have this happen on a ship of war in a warzone was generally seen as an outrage. Maybe he had to ask the commander for an explanation. In any case, it didn't leave a good impression. When he walked out to his cabin at the end of his shift he started to think this over.

In the meantime Major Burke had sent the entire Viper wing back to Invictus as he and his flight of four took the first CAP, oblivious to the scene in the CIC. "Not that I am not honored to sit in my Cockpit for the next three hours, but why did you chose me?" Mercer asked.

"Take a guess?" The crackling voice of Burke sounded over the radio.

"Cause the silence before the Storm!" Answered Juke in No4 while laughing.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well it ain't exactly a secret what you said during your training flights. Very entertaining if I say so myself. I wondered what it would look like up close!"

"Be careful what you wish for No4. You might just get exactly that!" a few started chuckling before Bingo got back on the radio.

"Alright that's enough. Let's get a CAP going before someone does something stupid. Follow me."

As he turned, the others followed in a more or less perfect V formation.

In the next two hours the resupply operation went on as planned with no further attacks. In the last hour of the patrol, Mercer could see the lumbering Battlestar gliding slowly towards its new posting in the distance. The Rear guard. DRADIS was already showing the Gothic class cruiser Sword Of Orion at the edge of the system, waiting for them to arrive. Though he had flown close by ships twice the size of the Orion, it still was an impressive sight to behold. Before setting down on the flight deck he might just sneak in a close Fly-By. Maybe not the brightest of ideas, but it was tempting....

By the time he set his skids on the deck, the Invictus had joined up with the Rear-Admiral and was well under way to its new posting.