Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Turrasta, Jun 1, 2010.
No update . Necroing isn't cool, I want a mother fucking update.
Wisky: Go take your pills.
Himself. Tabi, Jr?
This is a great story, it tore me away from a report! ><
Forums like these tear me away from my thesis writing. Gah! you can never escape such things....
Grabbing for Sig.
Your sig is more awesome than my doughnut.
About time I updated, no?
Joint UNSC/Colonial fleet engaging Covenant forces
Flight Lieutenant Soo-Kim Yu’s Rapier Interceptor
Space all around Soo-Kim Yu’s fighter was far brighter than it should have been; explosions, tracer rounds, the glow of massive engines all dimmed the backdrop of stars. He ducked his fighter underneath the crumbling remains of a Marathon-class cruiser, dodging around chunks of desiccated hull weighing thousands of times more than his own craft as the alien fighter behind him gave chase.
Yu sent his interceptor into a spin that crushed him into his G-absorbent seat, narrowly avoiding an unspent anti-ship missile then swooping up into the innards of the ruined cruiser, plasma bolts chasing after him before he shot out the armoured side through a forty metre hole, the edges of which were still glowing.
A jet of molten titanium exploded from the dying ship as it was struck by pulse lasers from a distant hostile destroyer and the flickering external lights on the ship finally died completely. Yu punched the throttle to full before cutting it out and hitting the nose thrusters, spinning the Rapier around so that he was now facing the pursuing fighter whilst maintaining his momentum.
Plasma bolts crossed paths with magnetically-impelled 50mm tracers briefly, several of them striking the ablative armour of the Rapier while the explosive auto-cannon rounds flattened against the Seraph’s shield, causing it to flicker and flare madly before finally dissipating and allowing the comparatively fragile craft it protected to be split open under the deluge.
Yu flicked the fighter around again and moved to rendezvous with what was left of his squadron, his attention drawn to the flashes of light in the distance. A small sun was born as a UNSC destroyer died from a plasma torpedo strike, fusion trails darting away from the explosion marking the destroyers final salvo of missiles.
MAC rounds larger than his fighter crossed thousands of kilometres in the blink of an eye, slamming into Covenant warships with devastating results as pulse lasers raked back and forth across Third Fleet’s frontline units. Yu’s brief but numerous life-and-death struggles with the alien fighters seemed totally meaningless as he watched hundreds or even thousands of lives get snuffed out every few seconds.
The cruiser he’d used as cover just moments ago slowly spun through space, moving farther and farther away from the fighting, it’s eighteen-hundred crew already dead or dying.
“Yu,” his earpiece crackled on the squadron frequency. “Form up now, we’ve got a flight of bombers to escort“.”
“Understood, returning to formation,” he replied promptly, sparing one last look for the cruiser before zeroing in on the rest of his squadron, guided by the Rapier’s integrated heads-up display.
Tormentor anti-fighter missiles streaked away from a destroyer, burning towards a flock of alien fighters that were harassing a wounded carrier as the besieged ship’s auto-cannons and defensive squadrons fought them off. A ball shaped explosion of pure white light signalled the detonation of a fusion bomb so far away that it was merely a pinprick of light, shining brighter than the stars around it.
Yu’s onboard radiation detection suite lit up suddenly and tiny slip-space ruptures formed in space a few hundred kilometres away, spewing more fighters.
“This is Stallion-Six,” Yu announced on the squadron frequency “Hostile fighters slipping in, request permission to engage.”
“Denied, Six,” his leader replied. “Continue with current objective, let Harrier squadron deal with those fighters.”
“Understood, Six out,” Yu replied, eyeing off the fighters on his display before opening the throttle to full and proceeding with the rendezvous.
Covenant Assault Carrier Arbiter’s Might
Flagship of Covenant Forces in human-held system
Elnaa ‘Salumnee sneered at the three dimensional holographic display as one of his cruisers was overcome and destroyed by fusion warheads. The arrival of the ‘others’ had come as a complete surprise and his forces were now outnumbered and essentially surrounded.
He had been ordered to take and hold the orbit of the third planet as quickly as possible and had been utterly confident that it would be done swiftly; now, he was certain he could do it, but fearful that it would not be quick enough for the Hierarch that resided in it’s personal chambers on the Might.
“Order our frigate screen to sweep out and around the edges of the enemy fleet,” ‘Salumnee said. “Have them split into groups of no more than three and to harass the weaker enemy ships, but not to risk full engagement; we must preserve our numbers as best as possible.”
The small crew went about their tasks with due diligence, not bothering to waste time acknowledging the commander’s orders, which was how he liked it.
The holographic display zoomed in suddenly, enlarging a view of a Covenant cruiser exchanging fire with it’s human counterpart; the blocky human ship took a trio of torpedoes to the portside armour barely fazed and responded with nearly a thousand missiles and countless metal projectiles.
Before seeing the conclusion of that fight, the hologram zoomed out and started tracking a large force of human small-craft bearing down on a group of Covenant destroyers. Pulse laser fire flickered away from the destroyers and human fighters died as they released large missiles from internal bays. The destroyers ignored the missiles, thinking they were simply fighter-launched versions of the missiles these humans so favoured.
One of them disappeared behind blinding white light as the fusion warheads detonated against the shield, then another was struck. Both ships flickered on the tactical overlay before their designations went dark, indicating that they were no longer combat effective.
“All escorts are to ignore ship-launched missiles for now and concentrate on human fighters,” ‘Salumnee ordered, mandibles twitching in annoyance. “Have the cruiser’s form into a wedge and drive right down the middle of the fleet, separate their larger ships from their escorts and we can pick them apart at our leisure.”
He studied the human formation a moment more, watching as the blocky ships’ powerful spinal weapons fired in unison, targeting frigates and destroyers. A couple of them were destroyed outright, a number more were crippled, still in the fight but either incapable of moving under their own power or having permanently lost shields or weapons systems.
‘Salumnee was determined to not be taken by surprise again; it had already happened three times now, first with the tactical use of FTL drives to avoid plasma torpedoes, second with the arrival of the other humans and third with the apparently quite effective bombers.
“Have our fighters intensify their harassment of the enemy, concentrating on the weaker ships,” ‘Salumnee said, pacing slowly around the 3-D holographic representation and zooming in on points of interest from time to time.
An icon for a wounded destroyer blinked several times as it was blanketed with missiles, before fading away to be replaced with a simple red circle, marking the ship as destroyed in action.
Frigates surged away from the main fleet in a cloud before splitting into groups of three or four and moving in different directions to envelope the human fleet on all sides and allowing them to attack from all angles.
The assault carrier rolled over to present its bow to a distant human cruiser and the dual energy projectors mounted there fired in unison, sweeping over the cruiser and cutting it neatly into thirds.
Glowing tungsten rounds speared back at the Covenant fleet in response from a dozen different ships; the carrier itself was far enough away to dodge the rounds with relative ease, but some of the escorts were not so lucky. A pair of frigates were knocked out of the fight, their shields popping like bubbles under a barrage of MAC rounds and missiles and their hulls rupturing.
The Colonials backed off as the UNSC and Covenant fleets squared off, taking the arrival of their distant cousins as a chance for a brief reprieve. Most ships jumped away, reappearing back in orbit of Aurelia and immediately manoeuvring to take on supplies or try to effect rudimentary repairs. ‘Salumnee let them go; they were no threat right now and he’d have plenty of time to wipe them out once he was done with these other meddlers.
Mark II Mercury-class Battlestar Refit Angelus
Admiral Durant glared at the DRADIS displays overhead as the aliens shifted their priorities, all-but ignoring his battered, retreating forces and forming up to attack the Thirteenth Tribe fleet that had made such a dramatic entrance to the system.
He’d had to order the DRADIS operators to filter out missile contacts because the system was overloading with the sheer number the Thirteenth Tribe ships were throwing around out there; while the effects were not exactly devastating, they were certainly noticeable. His only worry was for the endurance of their allies ships. If they were firing so many missiles so fast, they were going to run out of munitions soon enough.
“How many capital ships are available to us?” Durant said, eyes never leaving the display as contacts blinked and disappeared, both friendly and hostile, with alarming regularity.
“Seventeen battlestars, sir,” someone, he wasn’t sure who, answered. “Nine Valkyrie-class, five Mercury-class and three Columbia-class.”
Durant bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the two opposing fleets close in on each other, exchanging fire all the way.
“Form them into a mongrel battle group,” he finally ordered. “Then order them to make a tactical jump straight into the middle of the Covenant fleet; as soon as they complete the jump, they are authorised to launch their full nuclear compliment.”
The young lieutenant that had answered the admiral swallowed hard, his brow creasing. Jumping in so close to the enemy ships ran certain risks, not least of which was the risk of jumping into another vessel. Still, from the look on Durant’s face, the young man assumed that he knew all this and wanted to go ahead with it anyway.
“Once that’s done, all remaining battle-worthy ships are to jump in to support the Thirteenth fleet,” Durant continued, then turned his gaze to his 2IC. “We’re jumping in with that mongrel group; you’re hereby authorised to expend our full nuclear compliment, Commander.”
“Yes, sir,” the commander replied, pulling a key that hung from a chain around his neck out from under his shirt, the admiral following suit. Since the start of the war, security measures such as lengthy nuclear authorisation codes had been made obsolete and to access their most powerful weapons, all a commander had to do was issue the order and place and turn the key in it’s receptacle at the same time as their 2IC.
Durant tapped a button on the tactical map table in front of him, revealing a small panel set into the side of the bulky table. He held up his key at the same time as his 2IC, gave a small nod, and the two men both inserted and turned their keys at the same time, prompting a red button to flash briefly before Durant pushed it.
“Nuclear release authorised,” a digitized feminine voice announced quietly.
“Are we ready to jump?” Durant asked.
“All ships report ready to go, sir, awaiting you order.”
Durant fiddled with the battered and worn wedding band on his hand, a nervous gesture that he’d had ever since his wife had passed away to cancer seven years ago. He thought of her and of his son; his only family, both snatched away from him, one by an insidious disease, the other by an equally insidious alien empire. He was ready.
“All ships have a go.”
UNSCDFS Halcyon-class cruiser refit Shapeshifter
The ship heaved as it’s main guns spoke, three six hundred ton tungsten rounds shattering the shield of a Covenant cruiser before a twelve hundred ton round from a Marathon-class cruiser gutted the silver-purple ship.
Admiral Holland wasn’t paying attention to that, though, she was keeping an eye on the bigger picture, trusting in Captain van Buren to command his ship. Normally, the flagship wouldn’t be taking such an active role in the fighting, but they needed every ship in this fight.
She shook her head as the Covenant light ships split from the main force, breaking up into smaller groups and moving to harass her destroyer screen. A Covenant frigate was an even match for a UNSC destroyer and if left to go about their business, these small groups could cripple her fleets capacity to fight.
“Clever bastard,” she muttered, feeling some respect for the opposing forces commander. “Cruisers Carnival of Rust and Holier Than Thou are to split off and form a roaming support squadron with Destroyer Group Three. They are to engage any hostile frigate Wolf Packs they can, destroy them if they are able, otherwise simply driving them off should be sufficient.”
Her orders were relayed by her AI assistant to the ships in question and almost immediately, two Marathon-class cruisers and half a dozen destroyers split into two groups of four ships and began seeking out the Covenant frigate packs.
Holland winced as a carrier symbol flashed and faded away on the tac-display as twin beams of energy slashed across it’s armoured hull and cut it in half. The Covenant had taken them by surprise with that little trick; a weapon with ludicrously long range and which almost totally ignored even the thickest armour. Fortunately, only a couple of ships seemed to be equipped with these powerful weapons and they appeared to have a long recharge time.
Holland spared a glance for the cluster of friendly contacts closer to the planet, briefly wondering what her Colonial counterpart was up to as she noted a number of capital ships clustering together away from the main bulk of the fleet. The Colonial contacts winked off her display suddenly and for a moment she thought that their erstwhile allies had abandoned the fight.
The moment passed, however, when the Colonial capital ships began appearing in amongst the Covenant formation. By a stroke of astronomically bad luck, one unfortunate battlestar jumped into the trajectory of a cruiser’s MAC round and was ripped in half by the friendly fire, the round continuing merrily on it’s way and crippling a Covenant destroyer.
Massive radiation spikes lit up the displays as the Colonials launched their nuclear ordinance with impunity. Escort ships had their shields overwhelmed quickly by the fission weapons and the Colonial ships pounced on these weakened ships, hitting them with everything from point defence auto-cannons to bow artillery cannons, tearing them to pieces in no time flat.
The effects of this surprise attack were less drastic for the larger alien ships, though, and in just a few moments three battlestars were burned away by plasma torpedoes from a pair of cruisers. The surprise attack also had another, unintended, side affect; the Colonials had jumped in so close to their alien counterparts that the UNSC risked killing their allies with their own heavy ordinance, namely their fusion missiles.
“Adopt offensive formation Easy Mike,” Holland ordered, biting her lip in frustration as she cursed herself for not ordering it sooner. The formation required her fleet to split up, some going “up”, some going “down” and the rest continuing straight at the enemy fleet, allowing her forces to effectively envelope her opponent’s and rain fire on them from all angles.
The reason she’d put it off so long was the enemy Wolf Packs; splitting her destroyers away from the larger forms of her cruisers would leave them more vulnerable to roaming attackers.
“Get the Colonial CO on the horn,” Holland said , wincing as another battlestar lost a goodly portion of it’s mass to a torpedo strike and drifted along under nothing but momentum away from the fighting.
“Connection established, Admiral,” the Group AI informed her. “You may speak when you wish.”
“This is Admiral Holland to Admiral Durant,” she said into her ear-piece. The response was immediate but garbled and unintelligible.
“Apologies, Admiral,” the AI said. “A simple run-time error, translating now.”
That was a worry for Holland; the Group AI was a Class A Smart AI, one that had been with her aboard the Shapeshifter ever since she’d taken the cruiser as her flagship and one of the rare few that never chose a name for itself. The AI itself was in it’s teens by now, and few ever lived past their sixteenth ‘birthday’, even with hardware upgrades. Even a simple error like forgetting to run a translation program in real-time could be an early warning sign of rampancy or worse.
“This is Durant, I’m a little busy right now, so make it quick,” the decidedly gruff voice of her Colonial counterpart came back to her, interrupting her thoughts.
“Admiral,” Holland said, a little frostily. “You need to move your ships out of the line of fire, I’m about to hit these aliens with everything in my arsenal and I don’t want friendlies caught in the way.”
The link was quiet for a moment before Durant’s voice, sounding somewhat deflated, returned. “Understood, we weren’t going to be able to keep this up much longer anyway. Preparing to disengage.”
As if to emphasise Durant’s point, a Mercury-class battlestar was torn asunder by a trio of plasma torpedoes, the remains savaged by pulse lasers seconds before the first Colonial warship blinked away into FTL.
As the battlestars jumped back into orbit, the assault carrier at the centre of the Covenant fleet fired it’s twin beam weapons again, targeting the Shapeshifter itself. The aging cruiser rumbled in protest as she was struck amidships and the deck heaved beneath Holland, lurching her forward in her seat.
A couple of her officers had been out of their seats and therefore unrestrained; these few stumbled and fell, one landing hard against the corner of the TAC-display, tearing open a great wound on her head and sending blood gushing across the holographic emitters, disrupting the hologram of the assorted fleets.
“Alert, severe superstructure damage detected,” the Group AI spoke over the speakers. “Hull breaches detected in decks 37B through 38C. Missile pods D1 though E9 offline. Rail-guns 37, 38, 40 and 44 offline. Sea-whiz systems 25 though 31, 33-37 and 39 offline. Secondary shield emitter three offline.”
The holographic display flickered as a crew member tried to clean the blood off of the emitters, changing to show a wireframe image of the cruiser, affected areas flashing red to show heavy damage.
Holland winced as she shifted in her seat, her ribs bruised from being slammed against her restraints. “Are all allied ships out of the Covenant formation?”
“Execute manoeuvre Hailstorm.”
Covenant Assault Carrier Arbiter’s Might
Flagship of Covenant Forces in human-held system
‘Salumnee snarled quietly to himself as the lesser humans made a surprise attack with that damnable FTL system, crippling a number of escorts with massed nuclear strikes and leaving the larger ships vulnerable. The attack lasted only a few moments before the first Colonial ship was burned away, continuing mere moments more before they began to jump back to the relative safety of orbit of their world.
As they left the fight behind to lick their wounds, the Might’s gunnery crews identified a primary threat among the human fleet and designated it for removal via energy projector. The great carrier fired it’s twin projectors at the formidable cruiser-sized ship, scoring a direct hit almost dead centre of the port-side.
The projector’s firing cycle ended, leaving the ship badly damaged but seemingly still functional. ‘Salumnee’s mandibles twitched in surprise and he bowed his head ever-so-slightly in respect for the blocky human ship.
The human ships suddenly ceased their long-range duel with his escorts, ceasing fire altogether, in fact, and ‘Salumnee narrowed his eyes in confusion. What were they doing? They were easy targets now.
The ships were spreading out away from each other, too, no longer mutually supporting each other with short ranged point defences as their formation took the shape of a massive semi-sphere. The Fleet Masters eyes widened as realisation dawned on him, and he spun about to shout orders to his underlings. Too late.
The display lit up with thousands upon thousands of new contacts as the human ships launched all their available ordinance at once in a massive Alpha Strike. The Covenant lines came alive with laser fire, their point defence completely overwhelmed by the onslaught and soon enough shields began flashing and strobing as they took hit after hit.
The deadly rain of missiles continued as the human ships reloaded their magazines and fired again, the hail this time joined by multi-ton magnetically accelerated slugs and smaller slivers of titanium from rail-guns. Titanic flashes lit space around the besieged Covenant fleet as fusion missiles, hidden among their less powerful brethren, began detonating.
The Covenant’s response was furious but uncoordinated; plasma boiled through space as ‘Salumnee’s fleet struggled to fight back, burning away heretic ships where they could or even being used as make-shift point defence weapons, the torpedoes consuming dozens of missiles at a time.
More slugs hammered his fleet from all angles as friendly ships blinked away, listed as destroyed or crippled in action. The flagships own shields were being pounded like a drum, despite the best efforts of it’s escorting frigates to shoot down the inbound ordinance. One of his cruisers broke formation and placed itself between the flagship and some of the hostile fire, the ships shields absorbing hit after hit, aglow a fiery orange-red as they verged on failure, a haunting silver halo surrounding the ship as the shields tried to reradiate the energy from the missiles and slugs back into space.
A pair of fusion detonations wiped the cruiser from the display as ‘Salumnee did the only thing he could when faced with such a situation.
“Order the retreat, all ships capable of entering the slip-stream are to do so immediately,” the Fleet Master growled, shame flushing his body with heat. “Those that cannot follow are to cover the retreat and then initiate their self-destruct sequences.”
“It is done, Fleet Master,” an Unngoy underling said a moment later as the great ship trembled from a slug hit and it’s shields dipped below twenty percent, the underling’s voice quivering in both fear and relief.
‘Salumnee snapped his mandibles in rage, prompting the underling to yelp in fright and scurry away. He would suffer for this, he knew. The Covenant High Council tended not to look kindly on retreat from battle, but his duty demanded it. He had to protect the hierarch on board and he had to keep as many ships running as possible.
Though they didn’t like to admit it, the Covenant’s local fleet was not inexhaustible and the majority of their forces were on the other side of the spiral arm or escorting High Charity.
“Retarget the projectors,” he snarled, an evil glint in his eye. “Destroy the enemy flagship before we leave.”
Mark II Mercury-class Battlestar Refit Angelus
Durant’s mouth was a thin line on his grim face as he studied the DRADIS display. The Thirteenth fleet had decimated the Covenant ranks in a massive coordinated strike and the aliens were retreating. It had to sting, losing three times in a row in this very system.
Now they know how it feels, he thought, to lose again and again.
He should be happy, he knew, but there was something, a feeling, he just couldn’t shake. The loss of life in this one battle was atrocious, but he felt that it was not quite over yet.
A moment later, he was proven right. As the alien ships slipped away into that other realm they used for FTL travel, the flagship fired it’s main weapon again and the Thirteenth flagship was torn open as the twin beams played across it’s hull. Power failed throughout the cruiser and it’s engines died, leaving it to move under nothing but it’s own momentum.
The alien flagship slipped away, apparently satisfied that it had decapitated the Thirteenth’s forces and Durant wiped the sweat from his brow and heaved a sigh. Nothing was ever easy.
“New contact!” his DRADIS operator shouted suddenly over the general chaos of the CIC. “Single Covenant ship, battle cruiser class! Distance ten thousand and closing fast!”
“All ships, engage with everything we have left,” Durant ordered, cursing to himself. The battle cruiser swept aside a trio of strikestars that got in it’s way with no apparent effort, then burned through a Valkyrie with a pair of plasma torpedoes, not even bothering to slow down as rail-gun slugs began striking it’s shielded hide. Missiles and fighters were shot down with an almost contemptuous ease as the ship powered on.
It fired it’s beam weapons, ignoring the battlestars moving to engage it and targeting the planet instead, burning away a Colonial military complex that was being used to house spare munitions and as a shore leave location. Five thousand men and women died in less than a second.
The Angelus, wounded from battle, shuddered uncharacteristically violently as it’s bow guns spoke in retaliation. The battle cruiser ignored it and the other battlestars as they fired everything at it, letting it’s shields take the hits unhindered.
A new weapon fired at the planet’s surface, originating from underneath the bow, a thick orange-red beam of energy swept across the surface of the world, scouring the small, abandoned city that was being used as ground-side barracks by the fleet and leaving behind molten craters.
The battle cruiser opened a slip-space rupture, apparently content with the destruction it had caused, but just before it entered the rupture, it’s shield collapsed and it’s hull came under fire from the Angelus and another Mercury-class battlestar as the rest of the battered Colonial capital ships finally entered effective range and added their own firepower.
The rupture flickered and closed as the ship made it’s way through, neatly cutting the front third of the ship off and leaving the remains to be pummelled into a cloud of debris by the furious battlestar commanders.
In his CIC, Durant bit the inside of his cheek so hard that he tasted blood. No matter what, the Covenant always seemed to have the final word.
That was a bittersweet victory. Still at least the Covenant got their asses handed to them.
I imagine Viper losses were extreme ?
Viper losses must of been really bad, if they few battlestars remaining.
I would of thought Salumnee would have more 'honour', leaving his counterpart alive so he could fight and best her on another day. Still I think holland is alive, will kick arse again in a future battle and make allot of covies fear her.
Vipers? What vipers? I think they all died.
It looks like Colonials' grand strategy of stopping the Covenant at Aurelia would've been a colossal mess-up if the UNSC hadn't been found. Third battle in and they're already on the verge of being annihilated (Near total Viper loss, <10 Battlestars...).
I wonder what the Cylons are doing now?
Things always seem to be going bad for the Colonials. But at least they know how to put up a good fight.
Maybe some of the UNSC ground warfare equipment can helP out the Colonials, as they lack in that area?
I doubt they lack much except virtually any kind of space assets. Its more likely if the Colonials pay the UNSC to build ships for them.
Well, there's not exactly a lot of detail about what kind of gear the Colonials use on the ground from the show, so I can give them pretty much whatever. That being said, I doubt they'd have much in the way of armoured vehicles other than APCs/IFVs and maybe light tanks (probably mobile AA batteries/SAMs, too, given their dependence on fighters), since in BSG, if your enemy controls orbit, ground vehicles aren't very handy.
The Colonials have a pretty decent Tylium mining economy happening and from what I gather, Tylium (or a special property it has, perhaps?) is essential to Colonial/Cylon FTL drives. Paying the UNSC in refined Tylium for ships powered by fusion reactors with Tylium reactors used solely for FTL drives instead of for powering everything might be feasible.
Not to mention the fact that UNSC AI tech will enable them to utterly abuse Colonial FTL drives....
Hmmm, how long until the UNSC can come up with a Dumb AI that would be able to plot a jump?
We still don't know if the cylons are going to find their tech in the hand aid the covenant.
I'm still speculating on when the Cylons meet UNSC AI's, since UNSC AI's are treated more like people and officers in the UNSC, it's unlikely they'll rebel, also when they meet the Cylons, maybe they'll convince some that the UNSC are different to the Colonials and can be trusted.
Good luck trying to convince the Cavils. You will have better luck with the Sixs and Eights though.
The cylons aren't going to approach the humans for a long time I imagine. The one attempt they already made failed rather spectacularly thanks to internal sabotage (not that they know that) and the rest aren't willing to send a more overt attempt at open contact.
As for plotting jumppoints I imagine *any* UNSC AI would be capable of doing that since a single dude in nBSG can do it on a sheet of a paper. All it is is some advanced math.
Also people think that the USNC AI's will be able to show the Cylons that UNSC = Good but something they're forgetting is that the Cylons...aren't really AI's. They're just humans with some upgrades for the most part that like to think they're AIs. Closest eqivilent to an actual AI that we see on the show would probably be a hybrid and I can't imagine anyone liking what the hybrid represents.
Good point, well at least it's impossible for them to hack UNSC systems.
It would be impossible for them to hack Colonial systems as well without the backdoor. Cylon uber-hacking = myth. The only reason they were so good at it in canon was because they had an in with the guy that actually designed the system and that the Colonials installed the same backdoor on literally everything they had (not to mention having had 40 years to study Colonial coding techniques). Just a few simple checks and balances would have absolutely ruined their entire plan (like for instance each different ship having a seperate authorization code or something).
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