08-17-2007, 04:31 PM
[[OOC: Been a while since I've done some writing so was nice to get back into feel of it. Basic premise of this story worked up over the last few hours basing it off the 'in' the other BSG members gave me when I joined them last night and from there reports. The story adds the meat to those bones of Oma been left behind and his journey to re-join his Colonial brethen.]]
Omapainen Psycho Yksilo slid his Viper into formation as they cleared the distance from the fleet. Another day, another CAP. It had quickly become the routine for the green pilot who had recently come through his flight trials to earn his place amongst the Colonial Fleet.
Psychos hand gripped the stick as he brought the DRADIS online, a low hum emanating from the system as it began to scan. A number of blips appeared all friendly. A familiar sight. It had been some time since the fleet had come up against anything of significance, even more since they had finally lost the chasing Cylons. But the journey did not end with the loss of their pursuers. Finding and arriving at Earth had been bittersweet, the world dead. Now the fleet followed an engine-trail into the distance. Perhaps like the twelve colonies those of Earth had to move to pastures new Psycho often found himself pondering. The thoughts of finally finding a place to call home kept many, including Psycho, going.
The Viper formation sped out into the distance.
Another day, another patrol. he quipped, Shall we start taking bets on what we find, or better yet what we dont find?
Psycho couldnt help but smile under his helmet. It always helped to have a bit of banter on these long patrols.
Cut the chatter Psycho. Keep your mind on the job. came the curt voice of Pyro, ranking officer and patrol leader.
He always was a stickler for routine, even in this day where the only combat practice pilots got was with blanks. Psycho could literally sense the urge to come back with a rebuke but his moment was stolen as an unknown blip appeared on the DRADIS.
The contact appeared far ahead of the Viper patrol in what appeared to be a large dust cloud, possibly the remnants of a planet that had been destroyed. That made it all the more disconcerting that the unknown contact was in that general vicinity. Psycho felt himself tighten his grip around the flight stick as they hurtled towards it. Training was one thing, but this could be live combat, something he had yet to do against a live enemy. He shook his head, throwing any doubts from his mind. He was a member of the Colonial Fleet, a Viper pilot. Any show of doubt could lead to his or his wing-mates death.
Contact is still showing up as unknown sir. Hard to get a read on it, possibly do to the dust cloud messing with the DRADIS. he reported.
Understood Psycho, we go in standard formation. Be ready for anything. replied Pyro.
The dust cloud grew bigger and bigger as they flew closer, the eerie dark purple enveloping their cockpit viewports. The contact remained static, still unknown. Psycho could feel a knot in his stomach. They should be close enough to determine what it was now. Regardless, another few klicks and they would be upon it to give a visual confirmation on the target.
No sooner had they entered the cloud did they realise how much trouble they were truly in. Upon entering the dark cloud large shards of what appeared to be the remnants of the planet were strewn across. Instinctively Psycho pulled the flight stick up, the Viper veering up and over the large shard in front of him. Break formation and dodge! he screamed down over the radio. At this moment he didnt care that he was shouting an order at a superior officer. It could make all the difference. Pyro was not so lucky. His Viper slammed straight into a large shard exploding on impact. All happened in a split second with Pyro unable to get a shout out or a chance to eject.
There was no time to feel remorse for the loss of his flight leader. Psycho had his own life to save. He manoeuvred his Viper around the next few shards looking for a chance to turn around and get out of this death trap. The Colonial Viper danced around the debris as Psycho worked the controls frantically. No sooner had he cleared one bit of debris had another popped up in front calling for another erratic turn to clear it. Luck would eventually run out with the port fuselage been clipped by one of the shards, sending his Viper into a spin before the engine cut, leaving the Viper sitting idly amongst the debris.
Hours past. Attempts to fire the Viper back up failed leaving Psycho no choice but to try to hotwire the Viper, a task that took more time than he expected. The damage was extensive leaving him no choice but to by-pass a number of fail-safes to bring it back online. No rescue came. Psycho half didnt expect there to be. The pair had gone well off their assigned patrol vector and Pyro had failed to call in their course change straight away. He was now on his own. After a day of being stranded the Viper finally came to life, albeit heavily damaged, but moving.
After limping out of the cloud he immediately broadcasted for emergency help. As he expected there was no reply leaving him with only one option to try and rendezvous with the fleet on his own blind. Psycho afforded himself a short chuckle at his situation. He was as good as dead at this stage. Anything he did was only prolonging it. Still, if he was going to die. He would at least make a stab at making it instead of giving up. He nudged the Viper in the general direction that the fleet was heading when he left and powered up the engines.
This was going to be a long journey.
The weeks passed into months. The Viper limped across the vastness of space in pursuit of the fleet. When all hope was thought lost he came across a series of systems that teemed with life. The joy of finding civilisation was short-lived as his Viper was jumped by a band of pirates. His crippled Viper was just enough to fend them off before he was able to make his way to a clear patch of space. The fighter all but wrecked and life support failing the gods smiled upon him. A colonial signal appeared on the DRADIS. His search for a return home had been fulfilled. The sight of Colonial vessels in front him brought tears of joy. Psycho pulled the ejection cord, shooting him out of the Viper awaiting to be picked up. All at once the fatigue sat in.
But it was finally all over.
He was among friends once more.
Omapainen Psycho Yksilo slid his Viper into formation as they cleared the distance from the fleet. Another day, another CAP. It had quickly become the routine for the green pilot who had recently come through his flight trials to earn his place amongst the Colonial Fleet.
Psychos hand gripped the stick as he brought the DRADIS online, a low hum emanating from the system as it began to scan. A number of blips appeared all friendly. A familiar sight. It had been some time since the fleet had come up against anything of significance, even more since they had finally lost the chasing Cylons. But the journey did not end with the loss of their pursuers. Finding and arriving at Earth had been bittersweet, the world dead. Now the fleet followed an engine-trail into the distance. Perhaps like the twelve colonies those of Earth had to move to pastures new Psycho often found himself pondering. The thoughts of finally finding a place to call home kept many, including Psycho, going.
The Viper formation sped out into the distance.
Another day, another patrol. he quipped, Shall we start taking bets on what we find, or better yet what we dont find?
Psycho couldnt help but smile under his helmet. It always helped to have a bit of banter on these long patrols.
Cut the chatter Psycho. Keep your mind on the job. came the curt voice of Pyro, ranking officer and patrol leader.
He always was a stickler for routine, even in this day where the only combat practice pilots got was with blanks. Psycho could literally sense the urge to come back with a rebuke but his moment was stolen as an unknown blip appeared on the DRADIS.
The contact appeared far ahead of the Viper patrol in what appeared to be a large dust cloud, possibly the remnants of a planet that had been destroyed. That made it all the more disconcerting that the unknown contact was in that general vicinity. Psycho felt himself tighten his grip around the flight stick as they hurtled towards it. Training was one thing, but this could be live combat, something he had yet to do against a live enemy. He shook his head, throwing any doubts from his mind. He was a member of the Colonial Fleet, a Viper pilot. Any show of doubt could lead to his or his wing-mates death.
Contact is still showing up as unknown sir. Hard to get a read on it, possibly do to the dust cloud messing with the DRADIS. he reported.
Understood Psycho, we go in standard formation. Be ready for anything. replied Pyro.
The dust cloud grew bigger and bigger as they flew closer, the eerie dark purple enveloping their cockpit viewports. The contact remained static, still unknown. Psycho could feel a knot in his stomach. They should be close enough to determine what it was now. Regardless, another few klicks and they would be upon it to give a visual confirmation on the target.
No sooner had they entered the cloud did they realise how much trouble they were truly in. Upon entering the dark cloud large shards of what appeared to be the remnants of the planet were strewn across. Instinctively Psycho pulled the flight stick up, the Viper veering up and over the large shard in front of him. Break formation and dodge! he screamed down over the radio. At this moment he didnt care that he was shouting an order at a superior officer. It could make all the difference. Pyro was not so lucky. His Viper slammed straight into a large shard exploding on impact. All happened in a split second with Pyro unable to get a shout out or a chance to eject.
There was no time to feel remorse for the loss of his flight leader. Psycho had his own life to save. He manoeuvred his Viper around the next few shards looking for a chance to turn around and get out of this death trap. The Colonial Viper danced around the debris as Psycho worked the controls frantically. No sooner had he cleared one bit of debris had another popped up in front calling for another erratic turn to clear it. Luck would eventually run out with the port fuselage been clipped by one of the shards, sending his Viper into a spin before the engine cut, leaving the Viper sitting idly amongst the debris.
Hours past. Attempts to fire the Viper back up failed leaving Psycho no choice but to try to hotwire the Viper, a task that took more time than he expected. The damage was extensive leaving him no choice but to by-pass a number of fail-safes to bring it back online. No rescue came. Psycho half didnt expect there to be. The pair had gone well off their assigned patrol vector and Pyro had failed to call in their course change straight away. He was now on his own. After a day of being stranded the Viper finally came to life, albeit heavily damaged, but moving.
After limping out of the cloud he immediately broadcasted for emergency help. As he expected there was no reply leaving him with only one option to try and rendezvous with the fleet on his own blind. Psycho afforded himself a short chuckle at his situation. He was as good as dead at this stage. Anything he did was only prolonging it. Still, if he was going to die. He would at least make a stab at making it instead of giving up. He nudged the Viper in the general direction that the fleet was heading when he left and powered up the engines.
This was going to be a long journey.
The weeks passed into months. The Viper limped across the vastness of space in pursuit of the fleet. When all hope was thought lost he came across a series of systems that teemed with life. The joy of finding civilisation was short-lived as his Viper was jumped by a band of pirates. His crippled Viper was just enough to fend them off before he was able to make his way to a clear patch of space. The fighter all but wrecked and life support failing the gods smiled upon him. A colonial signal appeared on the DRADIS. His search for a return home had been fulfilled. The sight of Colonial vessels in front him brought tears of joy. Psycho pulled the ejection cord, shooting him out of the Viper awaiting to be picked up. All at once the fatigue sat in.
But it was finally all over.
He was among friends once more.