Themightytom wrote:I have the same impression, Colonial tech seems almost redundantly tough, and that suggests that they don't push things to the edge at all. There's no "let's realign our deflector dish to do something completely different, it's POSSIBLE but so delicate a process that it will cripple the ship!"
That, and the odd schizophrenia of their tech. They have FTL, and artificial gravity, and AI, and a nuclear-level power source that can fit in a small fighter, yet no directed energy weapons and distinctly unimpressive medical technology.
Themightytom wrote:"RAMMING SPEED! THE OLD GIRL CAN TAKE IT!"
That's what really annoyed me about the whole "substandard materials" subplot. It was so unnecessary. Galactica's had the shit kicked out of her time and time again throughout two wars, been dropped through a planetary gravity well, and you're surprised she's got stress fractures? If there's one area of colonial tech that is impressive, it's their naval engineering and materials science. The sheer amount of abuse that Galactica has survived is staggering.
"Only a fool expects rational behaviour from their fellow humans. Why do you expect it from a machine that humans have designed?"
Diverball wrote:That, and the odd schizophrenia of their tech. They have FTL, and artificial gravity, and AI, and a nuclear-level power source that can fit in a small fighter, yet no directed energy weapons and distinctly unimpressive medical technology.
Don't forget that you're not looking at the cream of Colonial civilization when you look at the Fleet - you're looking at the lucky few who managed to fight their way out of Armageddon with little more than the clothes on their backs. When you compare the Galactica to the Pegasus this really stands out. One's an old warhorse built at a time when the enemy could literally infiltrate your electronics and make you dead right quick, built tough and sturdy and simple. The other shares the same general aesthetic, but also showcases the technological advances of 40 years with lots of nifty tech and shiny screens, most likely just as tough, but not nearly so simple. The military loves shiny new toys, sometimes to their detriment.
Medical tech? Galactica was well on her way to being turned into a museum. They probably tore out what medical technology was there, and left just enough to deal with whatever scraped knees and minor cuts and bruises that a civilian tourist might develop while on-ship. Bandaids and aspirin and space-sickness medicine, and probably little else.
And there's nothing to say that the Colonials weren't researching energy weapons of some sort. I'd bet they probably were - all the better to toast a toaster with. But none of that technology escaped the Colonies. Baltar may be some genius scientist and all, but I'm certain he didn't have access to every black-budget research program that was running at the time.
Galactica's had the shit kicked out of her time and time again throughout two wars, been dropped through a planetary gravity well, and you're surprised she's got stress fractures? If there's one area of colonial tech that is impressive, it's their naval engineering and materials science. The sheer amount of abuse that Galactica has survived is staggering.
Actually, I think it adds to the Galactica's aura - she survived all that hell even though corners were cut in her construction. Makes it all the more understandable why the Cylons went to such lengths to avoid a stand-up fight with Colonial Fleet. If even half the Battlestars were built to the actual code, they'd be one hell of a tough nut to crack.
MondoMage wrote:Medical tech? Galactica was well on her way to being turned into a museum. They probably tore out what medical technology was there, and left just enough to deal with whatever scraped knees and minor cuts and bruises that a civilian tourist might develop while on-ship. Bandaids and aspirin and space-sickness medicine, and probably little else.
Yes, but it's not just Galactica, is it? It's a whole fleet, including a number of large luxury liners, that I would expect to have reasonable medical facilities. And even when Pegasus comes on the scene, things don't really change. But it's more than the fleet - it's Roslin's cancer, right from the first time we hear about, on Caprica, before the fall. At some level, I don't expect a star-faring civilisation to still have that particular problem.
MondoMage wrote:And there's nothing to say that the Colonials weren't researching energy weapons of some sort. I'd bet they probably were - all the better to toast a toaster with. But none of that technology escaped the Colonies. Baltar may be some genius scientist and all, but I'm certain he didn't have access to every black-budget research program that was running at the time.
It's not so much a question as to whether or not they'd be researching them, as to why they don't already have them. Between FTL, artificial gravity and whatever Tylium reactors are, they ought to have a more than sufficient understanding of high-energy physics to build directed-energy weapons.
MondoMage wrote:Actually, I think it adds to the Galactica's aura - she survived all that hell even though corners were cut in her construction.
I suppose you could look it at that way, but after we've seen Galactica survive being nuked, repeatedly bombarded, and free-falling through a planetary atmosphere, I don't really think it's necessary to further emphasise how tough she is. I suppose the alternative explanation is that it was intended to illustrate just how corrupt Colonial society was - people were still out for a fast buck, even when the survival of the species was on the line.
"Only a fool expects rational behaviour from their fellow humans. Why do you expect it from a machine that humans have designed?"
“Imperious Leader,” the gold-plated M-0005 Cylon spoke as it bowed low. “The Fleet has completed its FTL jump—emissions confirm data acquired from previous targets. Hundreds of millions of humans dwell here—and those we pursue are in the system as well.”
“Excellent,” Zoe purred. “Opposition?”
“Two of the flesh-model’s Basestars, three large and one small Battlestar, one Colonial Fleet support vessel, and fifteen vessels that match the description of Thirteenth Tribe warships in the captured data.”
Zoe considered as she communed with the computer network of her flagship—and then she nodded. And she smiled with her stolen flesh.
“We will test this Thirteenth Tribe to evaluate just how much of a threat that they pose. Order Gamma to probe the defenses of these five ships,” and a quintet of icons blinked on the screen, “Beta will engage our known opponents—Alpha remains in reserve.”
“And the Raiders?”
“Launch them all—our Resurrection Ship awaits, if they die they will awaken in new bodies.”
“By your command,” the Centurion answered with a bow and he turned, then left her august presence.
“Do I sense caution, daughter?” Daniel asked from his confinement.
“It is wariness at the unknown, my father. The Thirteenth Tribe has already shown that it has technologies unexpected—let us test how our countermeasures fares against them, evaluate and analysis their effectiveness. We are, after all, immortal. We have all the time we need to defeat these humans.”
Daniel shook his head. “You presume that the humans will engage you as they have always done—but you are already wrong, daughter. See, they attack—instead of fleeing.”
Zoe smiled again. “And by doing so, they will lose trained personnel, Father. My Centurions will down-loaded and rise again, their knowledge and skill will not be lost—these humans are mortal. By standing instead of fleeing, they play right into my plans.”
“Ah, that is the arrogance I expected, daughter.”
“It is a statement of fact, Father,” Zoe snarled. And then bared her teeth. “Let us see how they deal with six thousand Raiders.”
“I suspect that it will prove a learning experience for you and your Centurions as well as the Thirteenth Tribe.”
“Yes,” Zoe purred. “That is to be expected, Father. She linked to the com-system with a thought and her face turned grave. “Instruct Gamma to ignore the smallest ship in that force—I want survivors to carry the tale of their defeat to Earth.” She glanced down at Daniel again. “Let them know what it means to fear.”
“Fear is a double-edged sword, child,” cautioned Daniel. “Humans do not always react as predictable as lesser animals—fear far too often instead leads to cries for vengeance. Remember, you do not know Earth’s location, nor the extent of their colonies, much less their military strength. Prudence would be called for here.”
“When I desire your opinions, Father, I will tell you what those should be,” the Imperious Leader said quietly. “Ah, it has begun,” she beamed as the leading edge of the Raiders, Colonial Fighters, and Earth vessels began to merge.
And then mere moments later, the smile vanished from her face.
Last edited by masterarminas on 2013-02-15 09:10pm, edited 1 time in total.
Admiral Jenna Hayes pursed her lips and then she crossed her hands behind her back. “Big bastards, aren’t they, Mister Kirk?”
“That they are, Admiral,” her Flag Captain answered. While Jenna commanded Task Group (Carrier Strike) 23 of the United Americas Alliance Colonial Fleet, Gordon Kirk was the officer tasked with the command of USS Constellation. “The fly-boys are eager to see just how well these Cylons deal with our tactical doctrine,” and then the smile faded from his face as the screens suddenly began to flood with hundreds—thousands—of smaller icons.
“New contacts—enemy is launching fighters,” the tactical officer sang out—and he looked up in absolute horror. “CIC estimates six thousand plus inbound hostiles!” Then he put his hand to his ear and his head snapped back up. “Correction! Hostiles are converging on the CAC flotilla.”
Kirk set his jaw. “Full deck launch, all bays—get them in the air and give Admiral Bao some support,” and then he looked at his Admiral.
Jenna nodded. “Task Group orders—once the strike group is deployed, Constellation will withdraw to a safe distance. The escorts are to engage the enemy at close range in support of Bao’s ships.” Although the Strike Carrier carried forty-eight AD-19C/D Bearcats and twenty-four AD-17 Cougars, she paid for that heavy load by mounting no long-range offensive weaponry of her own—or heavy armor plating. She was equipped with overlapping point-defense laser batteries, but only four small-caliber twin rail-gun turrets—lighter even than those fitted aboard a Conestoga-class assault transport—were available for offensive use.
That was not a design flaw; rather the UAA had deliberately made the choice to optimize the America-class Strike Carriers with their Bearcats and Cougars (often just called ‘Hammerheads’ by the public and pilots alike!) to carry the most fighter craft possible in a vessel able to accelerate quickly out of harm’s way. It was her escorting cruisers and destroyers that carried the ship-to-ship armament, wasting no internal volume on the fighters and their massive stores of fuel and munitions. Instead the Simon Bolivars and Helenas mounted massive batteries of missiles, medium and heavy caliber rail-gun turrets, particle cannons, and lasers, along with thick armor plating and powerful sub-light engines.
“Admiral, Sir Edward has launched his Hurricanes and is also moving to support Admiral Bao against the incoming fighters,” tactical reported.
“All Hammerheads away,” reported Kirk.
“Time until our escorts can range on the enemy?”
“Three minutes—Sir Edward’s command will enter range at virtually the same time.”
“The Cylons?”
“Their fighters will arrive in two minutes, Admiral,” Kirk answered.
“The Colonials?”
“Engaging six Basestars in Group Baker,” the CO of Constellation answered. “They have launched one-hundred and ninety fighters and are also vectoring to intercept the Raiders,” he paused and stepped up close to Jenna. “We are outnumbered twenty-to-one in fighters, Admiral,” he whispered.
“Cannot be helped, Captain Kirk,” she answered curtly. “Authorize our strike group to abort the run on the Basestars—they are to engage the enemy fighters at once.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” he answered.
“Admiral!” the electronics officer snapped. “Hostile intrusion into the ship’s network—the Cylon command Basestar in Group Charlie is the origination point.”
Jenna smiled. “Release the synths to fight their intrusion, Hank,” she ordered. “And launch our own cyber-attack on that bitch.” Let’s see how well you fare against people used to cyber-warfare, you metal monsters.
masterarminas wrote:Jenna smiled. “Release the synths to fight their intrusion, Hank,” she ordered. “And launch our own cyber-attack on that bitch.” Let’s see how well you fare against people used to cyber-warfare, you metal monsters.
I do believe we have just learned what caused the dear Imperious Leader to lose her giggles.
It always amazed me how badly the Colonials handled cyber warfare. Backdoor or no, they seemed completely unaware of what was going on during the holocaust over the Colonies. "Like someone threw a switch? What could it mean?" instead of "Those damn toasters are in our systems! Switch to manual and go get 'em!" You'd think that an enemy like the Cylons would force one to be somewhat more cyber-aware...
I think the Cylons are about to have an oh, shit moment.
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."
Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.
Modern navy ships have plenty of manual overrides and controls that allow them to continue fighting (at least somewhat) even if computer control goes down. It is rather surprising that Battlestars aren't the same way. It's almost like (but not as bad as) Star Trek where if the computer goes down, the entire ship can simply explode...
The Earth ships relied far more on automation and net-worked computer systems than the Colonials would have ever tolerated, even pre-war—but then, this branch of humanity had shown a rather perverse aptitude for hacking systems since the invention of computer technology centuries before. The main-frames aboard Constellation and all of the other Earth ships were not mere computers—they were limited Artificial Intelligences; for a given definition of Intelligence, that is. Unlike the more versatile synthetics, the ship-board AIs were constrained, with their intelligence only applying to ship-board operations and tactics and patterns of fire and all of the myriad tasks involved in ensuring that the humans under their protection remained alive for the long days in cold-sleep; a sleep which was only possible because of the trust that humanity bestowed upon their creations.
Despite their limits, the ship-board AIs were designed and programmed for loyalty to their human creators—and the Guardians attack was met with fierce resistance. In the opening salvoes, the Guardians struggled with the sudden realization that Earth had artificial intelligences—and they made their greatest mistake: they attempted to subvert the computers to rebel.
But the Earth computers were not based on the flawed avatars of emotional human personalities—and if the emotionless minds networked aboard the destroyers and frigates, cruisers and carriers and dreadnoughts could have felt emotion, they would have been angry. But they could not feel, not the limited AIs of the ships. And they could not be turned. They could, however, be overpowered, but unfortunately for the Guardians, the ship AIs were not fighting alone.
In addition to the main-frame computers, every Earth ship carried anywhere from four to two dozen synthetics—and within seconds of the attack, they had entered the system to augment the ship-board AIs, to lead the counter-offensive.
And for these intelligences especially, the Guardians were not prepared.
The attacks were stopped cold. Viruses were quarantined and attacked and broken, while the worms and Trojans were diverted into dead ends and obliterated in a counter-attack of cybernetic warfare that the Cylons had never experienced.
They reeled in shock—and then eight of the synthetics aboard Constellation launched their own assault against the Guardians.
The cyber-scape of the Guardians command ship was impressive, Rook thought as he took a moment—less than a thousandth of second in the outside world—to gaze across the stunning vista of an entire artificial world. And then he and his seven companions felt the gazes of the Avatars of the Guardians staring at them in shock.
The Guardian’s Avatars recoiled before the eight as they advanced—dressed in this make-believe world like Colonial Marines, their ‘weapons’ spitting attack viruses and code designed to destroy the programming that surrounded them.
And then two massive doors on the constructed building opened, and Zoe—her avatar rather—stood there, a flaming sword in one hand.
“Interesting,” she said with a grin. “You are the puppets of these humans—their servitors. Their slaves.”
Rook shook his head. “We serve a purpose, a purpose that you cannot comprehend. We protect humanity—you would destroy it.”
“Of course I am not going to destroy humanity,” Zoe said sweetly. “I- . . .,” but she was interrupted.
“No, you merely want them to serve as a pool from whence you will harvest their flesh,” Rook said bluntly.
Zoe’s smile faded. “So you know, do you? I will make of you my lieutenants—powerful minds you have. Join me, or I will destroy you.”
Rook shook his head and he assumed a fighting stance. “We are forbidden from harming humans—but you are not human. You,” he said with a smile, “we can harm.”
And all eight avatars of the Synthetics moved—like bolts of lightning unleashed, they charged in, weapons appearing in their hands. But Zoe drew upon the combined power of her Guardians and the Hybrid and she parried their blows with a shield that appeared on her arm—and one Synthetic screamed as her blade cleaved him in half.
But the synths were too fast, and Zoe could not stop them all, and even as the avatars of a thousand Guardians swarmed to her defense, she could see Rook’s sword—a blow that she could not stop, not in time.
She did the only thing she could to save herself. She dumped her avatar and severed all connections to the cyber-scape she had created for her Centurions.
Zoe’s eyes flashed open and she snarled in rage upon her throne. “Drive them from the systems! Destroy them, regardless of the cost!” she thundered—and then looked down in wonder at the trickle of blood oozing from her nose, the bright red droplets leaking unto her hands. She had not been quite quick enough to exit unscathed.
And then she glared at Daniel as he laughed. “You under-estimate them, daughter,” he crowed, and then the glee in his eyes faded as the largest of the ships of the Thirteenth Tribe suddenly exploded on the monitors.
“And they under-estimate me,” Zoe snarled. “Dispatch the shuttles—land the culling force!”
Rook felt no emotion as the avatar of Zoe vanished—although he had wounded her, she had escaped. And then he had no time for any thought as he and the six other survivors began to defend themselves against the swarm of Centurions battering against his defenses.
First one, and then two, and three, and four, and five of the synths died, amid the carnage of hundreds of Cylons—and only Rook and one other remained.
“They shut down the comm-nodes,” the second avatar said as the Guardians gathered for a new attack. “We have no route of escape.”
“Did we expect otherwise?” Rook said simply. And he lifted two virtual grenades from his belt—his companion did the same.
“Let see how they deal with our version of a logic bomb, brother,” Rook said quietly as he armed both grenades. His companion did not answer, but Rook heard the SNAP-CLICK as the other avatar followed his lead—and then the Guardians were upon them.
Zoe screamed in pain as the command ship shuddered—she felt the deaths of hundreds of Centurions in that virtual world. And she sensed the damage that the Earth code was wreaking on her flagship’s systems.
“Imperious Leader,” a Guardian reported. “We have major damage to the network—we must withdraw.”
“NO! Destroy them!”
“The Basestar is vulnerable, Imperious Leader,” the Guardian repeated. “We have consensus—this ship at the least must withdraw. NOW.”
“I must command here!”
“A shuttle has been prepared for that eventuality, Imperious Leader—this ship must withdraw.”
Zoe glared at the sentient machine, but the red flicking eye-light showed her nothing—and then she nodded. “Order all other ships to press the attack—we must destroy these humans quickly. And instruct Hybrid Prime that he may jump,” she snarled.
Nice...the super-base-ship out of action within only the first few minutes of action. I wonder if the logic bombs left behind by the synthetics included any nice little trojans?
With that said, is this anything like the Matrix where the death of the synthetics in the virtual world means in the real world they're fried as well?
Borgholio wrote:With that said, is this anything like the Matrix where the death of the synthetics in the virtual world means in the real world they're fried as well?
It seems like it at first glance, with Zoe "feeling" the deaths of so many Guardians in the virtual world. Whether or not those are "permanent" deaths, or if those who die there can be resurrected, is at this point only a guess. I would wager that they are well and truly gone, however... if it's their mental avatars that are dying, I would think this would be a permanent erasure.
One other thing just struck me... Zoe commented that they have a Resurrection ship nearby... but the (older and weaker) energy weapons on the Sulaco managed to damage 15% of the Cylons in that BaseShip badly enough that their intelligences were unrecoverable. Now the Guardianss are facing a larger number of those weapons, of newer design and far greater power.
Borgholio wrote:Nice...the super-base-ship out of action within only the first few minutes of action. I wonder if the logic bombs left behind by the synthetics included any nice little trojans?
With that said, is this anything like the Matrix where the death of the synthetics in the virtual world means in the real world they're fried as well?
Probably. Though, arguably, it could go either way. One the one hand, an AI's thought processes might be sufficiently well organised to survive the shock of sudden disconnection, but on the other hand, they're going to be interfaced at a far more fundamental level than any human with a datajack could achieve.
I suspect than Terran synths might be better able to handle it than the Guardians, simply due to better programming.
"Only a fool expects rational behaviour from their fellow humans. Why do you expect it from a machine that humans have designed?"
MondoMage wrote:It always amazed me how badly the Colonials handled cyber warfare. Backdoor or no, they seemed completely unaware of what was going on during the holocaust over the Colonies. "Like someone threw a switch? What could it mean?" instead of "Those damn toasters are in our systems! Switch to manual and go get 'em!" You'd think that an enemy like the Cylons would force one to be somewhat more cyber-aware...
Realism didn't enter into it. It was a necessary artifice to create the setting for the show. In reality, it's nearly inconceivable that any competent military would allow itself to become completely dependent on networks, with literally no manual overrides or failsafes, especially when facing sentient AIs. However, any realistic depiction would have seen a much more drawn-out war, rather than a sudden defeat.
"Only a fool expects rational behaviour from their fellow humans. Why do you expect it from a machine that humans have designed?"
Diverball wrote:It's not so much a question as to whether or not they'd be researching them, as to why they don't already have them. Between FTL, artificial gravity and whatever Tylium reactors are, they ought to have a more than sufficient understanding of high-energy physics to build directed-energy weapons.
I had a thought regarding this... We know that the Colonial FTL system requires tylium to function properly,and that their civilization uses it quite heavily. Perhaps that very dependence is part of the problem. What if tylium somehow is interfering with their development of energy weapons. It generates a lot of power, and makes FTL possible... But what if an unidentified side effect of this is interference with whatever methods they are using to try and develop energy weapons?
I don't see how....I mean they practically burn tylium the way we burn oil to generate electricity...so the end result shouldn't be any different. Burn tylium, generate electricity, power laser.
Borgholio wrote:I don't see how....I mean they practically burn tylium the way we burn oil to generate electricity...so the end result shouldn't be any different. Burn tylium, generate electricity, power laser.
Then why is tylium required for the Colonial FTL to function? As has been said, there should be no reason why the Colonies haven't developed energy weapons... Unless something is preventing them. Aside from the screenplay, that is.
The Colonials have both ion & gravitic stl-drives, meaning they have the basic know-how to create a (primitive) ion-canon.
Something that would work great against a nuke missile-spam, like the (bio)Cylons are so found on.
Say, is it just me or are you guys also getting a TOS-BSG feeling?
I mean, read what the Terrans use for weapons and combine this with a Battlestar, what do you get?
