Author: Matthew C. Manni
Email:
Rating: M
Genre: Science Fiction
Editor's note: This fanfic is a stand alone story starring Silver Spar squadron leader Matthew "Hephaestus" Lensherr of the Battlestar Galactica. This story has no continuity to my current fanfic (The Hephaestus Chronicles) or any of my previous fanfics.
While fleeing for their very lives, the crew of the last Battlestar, Galactica, find themselves facing a new threat, murder on their own ship. When a violent, splinter resistance group from New Caprica resurfaces, Admiral Adama has his hands full.
When Thunder Strikes
Chapter 1.
The chronometer on the wall slowly ticked by, the silence was deafening, as the two sat across from each other at the president's desk aboard Colonial 1, neither looked entirely pleased. President Laura Roslin and Matthew Lensherr had become friends during their time on New Caprica. She had lost the presidency to Baltar, and soon reclaimed it.
"So that's your final answer Madam President?" asked Lensherr angrily.
"Matthew, what is going through your gods-damned mind? There is no way Admiral Adama is going to release D'Anna into your custody, she's a Cylon and this office does not interfere with military decisions made by Bill Adama!"
"Yes she's a Cylon, one that was instrumental in helping us escape New Caprica! For a former school teacher, you don't pay very good attention to detail." Sniffed Lensherr, obviously hurt by Laura's lack of enthusiasm for his concerns.
Irritated by Matt's obvious lack of respect for her position, Laura took a deep breath and replied. "You arrogant smart ass, I guess you can take the man out of Aerilon, but you can't take Aerilon out of the man, you know full well that she's lucky Adama hasn't shoved her ass out the nearest airlock. You are making waves Matt…the old man knows you took this trip, and called me prior to the meeting. He is not happy! You of all people should know that he is not going to appreciate your attempts to circumvent his decision. It pains me to say my hands are tied in this matter." Said Laura sadly. She could see the hurt in her friend's eyes and knew that this would most likely not end well.
"Your hands didn't seem too tied to get your hands on that black market bottle of vintage Caprican ambrosia!" shot back Lensherr motioning to the serving tray on a side table containing the rare bottle as he stood up to leave.
"Be careful Matt, the toes of the leg you step on today might be connected to the ass you might have to kiss tomorrow!"
"D'Anna isn't like the rest of them!" snapped Matt.
"Has it ever dawned on you that perhaps that holding cell is the safest place for her right now? There are too many raw emotions and bad memories from New Caprica for many people in this fleet. Any one of them would love to take their aggression out on a skin job, even one that might have helped save their collective asses. Think about that before you leave here and do something truly stupid. I'm your friend, and the hatch to this office is always open to you Matt, please don't forget that."
Lensherr walked out of the office without a reply, deep down he knew she was right. Laura Roslin massaged her temples, "that went well." she said to herself sarcastically. She had grown close to Matt during the first few months on New Caprica, not in a romantic way, but in a platonic way. After the Cylons showed up, forcing the orbiting fleet to abandon them temporarily, Matt had worked very hard to assist Laura with her then fledgling school when not working with the resistance. She liked him very much, even if she couldn't understand his love for D'Anna Biers, whose identity as a Cylon agent was revealed at the time of the New Caprica occupation.
