"Sir, as I said just now, we can't go close to that asteroid field. We are practically blind in there."

"I am not interested in excuses Commander! You will carry out this order or I will have to report to HQ that you are unwilling to carry out orders. I doubt they will like what I have to tell them."

Price had been on the horn with the Rear-Admiral for the past fifteen minutes. In that time he tried to advise on the best place for Invictus to take station. For some reason he couldn't get through. The man thought him an unwilling coward and didn't take him seriously. He had no choice but to say yes and carry out the orders in the best way possible. Frustrated he slammed the phone down in the horn-nest. "No luck with him?"

"Indeed Mark, I just can't get through that thick skull of his. Just what we need, an Admiral with a stick up his ass."

"We'll see how this turns out. Are we the only one in that specific sector?"

"No, there'll be several ships nearby. But I am not sure if they will come to our aid if we ask them to."

"Only one way to find out."

"I'm afraid you're right. Well, no sense in sitting still. XO, set a course to the asteroid field on the east-south-east corner of the system. It'll take a couple of hours to get there. Have the pilots and gun crews in their racks. Let them rest a bit while they can."

"Come to think of it. You've been holed up here for almost twelve hours. Maybe it's time you catch a few hours rack time."

"That does sound awfully nice. Can you take care of things here?"

"Aye sir. I'll let you know when we get close to the new AO." Price nodded and walked away to his cabin. When he looked back through the CIC hatch he saw his friend relaying his orders. He knew he would not fail him, but nevertheless he always looked back through the hatch. He never knew why. Maybe it was just an old bad habit.

He turned a few corners and bulkheads before he got to his cabin. He had barely sat down when he heard knocking on the hatch. He unbuttoned his jacket a bit before answering.

"Come in."

The young Imperial Lieutenant stepped through the hatch and walked to the desk before snapping at attention. "Stand easy Lieutenant. How can I help you."

Deamus relaxed his stance and handed the Commander a datapad. "The recognition data on known ships you asked for."

"Ah yes, thankyou. I'll make sure the right people get these in a few hours." he paused for a moment before continuing: "But I guess this isn't the only reason you stepped to my cabin."

"No sir. Permission to speak freely?"

Price nodded "Pull up a chair." he said before picking two glasses and a bottle from his desk. He poured whiskey in the glasses and offered Deamus one, which he accepted.

"What can I do for you?"

"I don't know really how to put it..." he started.

"Just speak your mind Deamus"

"It's Colonel Howard, Sir. I have the distinct feeling he seems to disagree with me."

"How is that?"

"He is keeping me in his eye constantly. His expression isn't always that kind either."

"Howard has always been a bit intimidating. Nothing to worry about."

"I know sir, but this isn't like that. More severe. I didn't really realise it at first, but when the navigator snapped, what was his name again?"

"Specialist Tandor."

"Yes, that was him. When you two had calmed him down I was watching from the sidelines. Honestly I didn't know what to think of it, but anyway. I caught the XO keeping me in his eye more. I was wondering if there is a problem I should know about, with respect to the Colonel of course." he added afterwards somewhat nervously.

"Mark, or Colonel Howard for you, doesn't seem to understand you. He is a good man and stands for his crew. He's hard but fair. He has told me lately that you react arrogant in front of the crew, from the heights down, in his eyes. Now this may or may not have been your intention, but this is what he sees and doesn't like. Especially now."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you walked through corridor C25? The one with the pictures a bit to the right of the CIC?"

"No, I haven't been to that part of the ship yet. What about it?"

"It is just another hall in the ship save for one thing. It's a memorial. Maybe you should take a look at it some time."

The mentioning of a memorial did raise an eyebrow on Goradin's face, but he seemed a bit puzzled.

"Back at Port Maw, did they tell you why this ship is out here?" Price asked before taking a swig of whiskey. Goradin shook his head.

"We are here because we lost our home. I won't go much into details now, but the gist is this. Before all of this happened we, all of us, were living relatively comfortable lives. Many of us had a home, a wife, family. Wars like these" he pointed at the DRADIS screen behind him with his thumb, "Are just about unheard of where we come from. Now, we've had our own conflicts in history, but the only one on a similar scale was fought out about forty years ago. And then about two months ago now we were attacked by our own creations and just about wiped out. Our planets were nuked together with our friends and relatives. These men and women" he gestured around with his hand, "lost everything and everyone they hold dear, save for the ones onboard this ship. Especially Howard. He lost his family, his home. And all the while he is expected to do his job. He takes this hard and does not allow anyone to put any more stress on them than is absolutely necessary."

A silent pause fell between the two men. Goradin was silently sloshing his drink about a bit before he took another swig. The stuff was strong.

"So you're saying I put too much stress on the crew?"

"No. Personally I haven't really seen you do anything wrong. Your command style isn't mine, but that isn't really a reason for me to order you to change."

"Then what should I do?"

"Talk to Howard. Try to get along. Get a mutual understanding of each other. Let him get to know you. And maybe take a look in C25. But if you chose to do that make sure you mean it."

Another silence fell. Price could see the young officer in front of him thinking. He took a final swig to finish his drink and stood up. "Thanks for the help Commander"

"No problem Deamus. Think about what I've said."

"I will"

Both men shook hands, Deamus put his glass down and walked out of the cabin.

A few hours later Price reappeared in the CIC. He didn't give a hint to anyone that Deamus came to his cabin, and thought it best to keep it between them for a little while. Looking up on the DRADIS screen he could see a few ships duking it out in the distance, far away from his AO. To the front of the ship all dradis could see was a big mess of stuff floating about. They wouldn't be able to see in there, no way no how. If they'd even stand a chance of looking inside that asteroid field they'd need to send in an armed recon. He didn't like sending men in unknown territory, not knowing what is in there. He had no choice. He picked up the horn from the command table and keyed the right channel.

"Flight-Ops, Command. I need an armed recon section to scout out the asteroid field up ahead. Further instructions follow"

His order was acknowledged before he put down the horn. He looked up again at the DRADIS console. Nothing but random static and intermittent contacts ahead.

Lieutenant 'Duster' Andrews walked up to his Strike Viper in the middle hangar deck. The ground crew had already finished arming and fueling his bird and were finishing the last procedures. His crew chief walked up to him. "Hey chief, how is she looking?"

"As good as I can make her LT. Most of the damage was superficial, but I did have to change out the right wing hydraulics. They could've kept going for a while but I thought it best to get them overhauled."

"Thanks chief, Appreciate it." Duster replied before stepping in the cockpit. His WSO had already taken seat. "Ready Wizzo?"

"Was born ready Duster. Let's get her started up!"

The men started the sleek striker up with professional speed. Within minutes the remaining red safety flags were removed and the canopy was closed. The inner launch tube door opened to let the spacecraft in. Within moments the sleek Strike Viper shot out the launch tube and set course for the asteroid field. He was one of the third wave of recon craft sent into the field in the last few hours. The previous recon missions found clusters of mines bound to asteroids and traps in the shape of asteroids with crude engines strapped to them. There was no sign yet of the enemy. Maybe he would be the 'lucky winner'.

About ten minutes after launch the small recon craft entered the outer fringes of the asteroid field. Taking a quick look down, Andrews saw his ship's DRADIS sensor system going crazy. With so many asteroids flying about the poor system couldn't keep up and kept displaying false echoes and static clutter. Moments ago his Wizzo had already sent a message to Invictus indicating they entered the field. The Weapons Systems Officer in charge of targeting and jamming systems was always called the Wizzo. Just another abbreviation bastardized by the men who actually used them.

"DRADIS is going crazy here. You have anything on scope Wizzo?"

"Negative Duster. Nothing but static and false contacts here. Old style only."

"MK1 Eyeball?"

"Yep"

Mk1 Eyeball. When sensors failed all you had left to rely on were your own eyes. Just like the old days where men had just learned to conquer the skies. Now they were doing this in outer space, hundreds of years later. Though all pilots and crew were trained to never fully trust sensors, no one ever liked flying entirely visual. Especially in a field like this where every flying chunk of rock could be an enemy fighter or hide one behind it. They all knew the stories all too well of the men and women of the Battlestar Calypso who fought the Cylon machines in a similar situation decades earlier.

The Cylon raider often enough lied in wait behind rocks like these until an unsuspecting viper flew by. Before the poor bugger had realised he flew into a trap, the fighters had already transformed him into a burning wreck. Many good pilots had lost their lives that way. Duster had no intention of him and his Wizzo suffering a similar fate. Carefully he flew deliberate routes and sneaked around like a cat in the night, slowly peaking his nose around the corner looking for any sign of hostiles. In the back seat the Wizzo was acting as a second pair of eyes while at the same time looking for heat signatures or any sign of sensor radiation. Just looking for any sign they were seen to give them that split-second extra warning.

For the first forty minutes inside the field the pair didn't see any sign of enemy spacecraft, save for a few mine clusters and asteroid traps which they carefully marked in their NAV-system. The relative peace and quiet was somewhat nice but it didn't put any of the men at ease. At any moment they expected to find a fighter patrol or a small frigate around the corner. What they found they could not even dream of. As they rounded another larger than average asteroid they found themselves in a big open space. Like an open field in the middle of a forest. At the center they saw three huge asteroids linked together by beams, walkways and the sort. The asteroids themselves were too large to justify the name. Each of the humongous rocks was clearly hollowed out for bases and a makeshift spacedock. The place was big enough to park a couple of old jupiter class battlestars in there. Anyone flying outside of the field could sail by and never see this hidden base. Around the entrances numerous gun emplacements were hammered in the rock. There were many anti-fighter/bomber turrets and main gun turrets present, though still quietly embedded in their nests. Clearly unaware of their presence.

The clearing and the docs were filled with numerous escort craft and a light cruiser, just sitting there. Hangar decks imbedded in the nearby rocks were filled with fighters and bombers of almost every shape and size while some of those craft were silently whizzing about between ships.

"Wizzo, are you seeing this?"

"Copy that Duster..." both men were struck with awe for a second before snapping back to reality.

"Get on the scrambler and connect me with Invictus. They've got too see this..."

"Comms - Commander? Echo 5 is on the scrambler. They've got contact."

"Connect me to that patrol. Echo 5 - Invictus actual go ahead"

"Commander, we're transmitting a download. You've got to see this.

Wizzo connected his targeting pod to the comms array and panned the camera around, giving the men on board the Invictus the same view they had...

"That's a lot of ships massed out there...."

"Oh my Gods, it's a staging ground. They are preparing an offencive here."

"You got that right, Howard...."

Lieutenant Goradin wasn't listening to both senior officers. He was busy counting enemy ships by classes and squadrons. Escort craft of just about every origin were massed there. Both chaos and imperial. Undoubtedly there were more tucked away somewhere inside the rocks that they couldn't see yet. Most likely the pirates down there were already aware of their presence.

He was the first one to tear himself away from the pictures on the screen.

"Colonel, Commander. We must pull back the recon patrols NOW. Most likely they are already aware of us being here. We are on borrowed time."

"Agreed. You copy that Duster?"

"Ahead of you Invictus. Gunning it for home."

The connection ended there.

"Action stations!" Once Price gave the order buzzers began sounding and alert lights began flashing. Within thirty seconds every bulkhead on the ship was sealed and every able man was scrambling to get to his post. Fighters were refueled, pilots jumped in the cockpit and loaded into the launch tubes ready to go. Point defence turrets swiveled around and the main turrets rose from their nests, facing the asteroid field.

The sensors detected large IR signatures starting to grow from inside the field. Ships were preparing to attack.

"We don't have much time, John..."

"Mr Goradin. Compile a high priority message to Rear-Admiral McCallun.

Message reads: Large pirate force staged in asteroid field area preparing to attack, break.

Pirate offencive imminent, break.

Request immediate reinforcements or risk losing flanks.

Send this with the proper priority codes. Include the recon pictures we've taken."

Goradin wrote the message down and quickly walked up to the comms to carry out the order.

While waiting for a reply the crew prepared to repel any and all attack they could face. All the while they expected some sort of reinforcements or orders to help them face the threat.

But no reply ever came....

"Still no reply, Deamus?"

"No sir." came from the Comms console.

"Howard, hail them yourselves. Explain to them if you must. Get us reinforcements!"

The Colonel walked away and connected to the Sword Of Orion, transmitting the intel.

Across the room Price could hear the frustrated grunts of his XO, trying to convey the message and the importance of it.

"Are they receiving?"

The Colonel took the horn from his ear and smacked it down on its nest.

"They can hear us alright. Command has their head up their arse. We're on our own."

"Gods damn-it!" Price cursed and punched his fist on the charting table.

For a few brief seconds the eyes of the CIC were fixed on him. All kinds of scenarios went through his head, frantically trying to find a way to turn the tides. One less likely than the next. He had no choice.

"Mr Goradin, give me all local Imperial Navy frequencies on the horn pronto!"

He raised the mic to his head and looked for the thumbs-up from the comms specialist.

"This is going against all Imperial protocols Commander..." Goradin began, seeing the intention of the foreign officer.

"I know Lieutenant, but we've got no choice."

"This is Commander Price from the Battlestar Invictus stationed at the rear guard. We've got a Pirate offencive incoming and are severely outnumbered. We need immediate reinforcements or risk being overrun. Requesting all nearby units to assist. I am standing by....."

And with that he released the squelch button on the horn. Now he could only wait and hope for a reply. He took a quick questioning look at Goradin as if he asked him who would answer. The young man could only shrug his shoulders and wait.

Just before the Price had almost given up, the comm system crackled to life.

"Commander Widman responding to Invictus. I've sent Bravo Squadron to assist you. Take good care of them, Commander!"

"Alien Bane responding to Invictus. Send your coordinates and details on enemy strength and positions. We will assist ASAP."

Signs of relief could be seen on many faces around. Now they may actually able to pull this off!

"Get me their positions." Price ordered as he pulled out the tactical map.

Meanwhile Andrews in Echo 5 had landed aboard and transferred all data to the ship's data computer. His craft would soon be rolled out and prepared for anti-ship strikes. By this time all launch bays were loaded with squadrons of Mk II and Mk VII Vipers, all ready to launch within seconds.

They wouldn't have to wait long.

On the sensor screens they could see swarms of small craft emerging at the edge of the asteroid field, ready to attack. Colonel Howard ordered all batteries on full Full FLAK. "All batteries to full power. Stand-by enemy suppression barrage."

"Ninety plus enemy raiders closing in on bearing 285 mark 48." the sensor operator called out.

"Enemy suppression fire, all batteries execute." The moment Price gave the order the entire back and port side of the ship erupted with muzzle blasts. Clouds of FLAK shells raced towards the incoming spacecraft and exploded just in front of the formations, forcing them to fly though.

Within seconds the barrage shredded the first few fighters and threw shrapnel at the rest, forcing the formation to change direction.

"Perimeter established" Came from the battery control.

"Launch Vipers."

Flight Sergeant Mercer Trune had been sitting in his cockpit for the past ten minutes waiting for the order to launch. His engines were humming at idle and all systems reported green, ready to punch out of the Launch tube at a moment's notice. "Cleared for launch" Sounded in his headset.

The outer tube door opened, the catapult locked on his skids and he shot out the tube. This time he didn't have any trouble keeping his fighter stable. He could see his squadron mates clear the tubes left and right from him while a mass of fire flew over his head to the enemy fighters.

There was no time to form up. They had to go in now and hard.

"Broken formation" Ordered Bingo, "Razzle dazzle, don't let them use their targeting computers and for Frack's sake stay out of Invictus' firing solution!"

"Copy that!"