A single small fighter craft drifted through the vast emptiness of space, cast off from its flock and entering uncharted waters. This was a Viper from the mighty Battlestar Galactica, one of the two remaining shepherds leading the herd of refugees that had escaped the horrors wrought upon the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. In the pilot seat was Kara Thrace, or Starbuck. For once in her career she wasn't running her mouth, instead focusing on the severity of the situation she was caught in. Separated from the fleet by Lords know how much, and with limited air. While her mouth remained silent, her brain was busy repeating a mantra, while her eyes desperately searched for a solution.

'Breathe in'

"Multiple DRADIS contacts sir," that was Felix Gaeta, reporting to the 'Old Man' himself "Ten, make that, eighteen Cylon Raider scouts, inbound on our position." Immediately, alarms began blaring throughout the ship as the crew rushed to their designated positions. Admiral William Adama sprung from his seated position with a speed that belied his aging body, and walked over to the center of the CIC.

"Dee, what's the status on the Alert Vipers?" Adama asked, while simultaneously walking over to Ensign Dupont at the tactics board and silently drawing a line depicting his desired maneuver for the Galactica, bringing the port side to bear on the encroaching fighters, lest they be carrying nukes, or some other weapon capable of inflicting harm on the civilian fleet. Dupont double checked the calculations before shouting the instructions over to the Helmsman, who gave a shout of acknowledgement back before making a similar shout over to the Gunnery Officer to bring all available guns to bear. All in all, the CIC went from being a relatively relaxed setting to a textbook example of controlled chaos within seconds. Each member of the crew was a well-oiled gear in a machine, ready to fight to the death.

"Sir, most of the Pegasus's Vipers are out of commission for some upgrade Laird came up with, we're going to have to mostly rely on our ships sir." That was the response Dee gave before instantly switching her headset back on to communicate Galactica's planned maneuver with the Pegasus.

"Launch the Vipers."

'Breathe out'

"WOOHOO!" Starbuck grinned as she flipped around in her Viper, searching for a new target, considering that her previous one was now a mere pile of slag. She spotted the unlucky Cylon, hot on the tail of 'Vesta'. Gunning her engines, she rapidly accelerated towards the Cylon, holding her fire until she was closer. Around her, the rest of the Vipers were busy mopping up the remainder of the Cylon attack force. Suddenly, a voice came over the static-ridden radio of the Viper. It was Apollo, flight lead for this mission.

"Starbuck, that's the last of the Raiders, finish it off and let's go home," Rolling her eyes and mumbling an affirmative over the radio, she pushed her viper to the max speed, trying to catch up with the fast Raider. Without warning, the larger fighter flipped around, pointing towards The Sevastopol, the nearest civilian ship, and energy began rapidly building up. "STARBUCK, HE'S GONNA JUMP! GET-" Before Lee could finish his sentence, the Cylon began it's jump, at precisely the second that Kara would have crashed into it, unable to dodge the rapidly accelerating kamikaze ship. With that, Kara disappeared from all sensors, and the Cylon materialized within the Sevastopol's hull, deforming the structure and and tearing the ship apart.

Kara's Viper had run out of air by now, and was instead functioning on the C02 Filters, which could be used to reuse the air, rather than cycling new air in. But these filters had their limits, and Kara was already beginning to feel drowsy. 'Breathe in…'

"What the hell?" Kara breathed out those words quietly. Just a few seconds ago she had been fighting a mere 500 SMs from the fleet, but now she was all alone in space. Cautiously, she activated her radio. "Galactica, this is Starbuck, do you read?" Silence. "This is Starbuck to all Colonial ships in the area, please respond, over." Nothing. "Well frak."

Kara snapped her head back up, before it started to slowly fall again. It couldn't hurt to sleep, at least for a few minutes. And so, she let her head fall again, falling asleep to the sound of the repeating distress beacon she had set up. 2100 SMs from her position, UNSC Battlegroup Scythe dropped out of slipspace.

"Sir?," said Ensign Nakamura to the Captain of the Scythe, "You're gonna want to hear this…"

AN: I'M BAAAAACK! After promising to do so for just about a year now, I have finally re-written the first chapter of Collision Course! Get hyped! Be warned though, it will probably take a while for me to get around to the next chapter though. :)

EDIT: Fixed Starbuck so that she now says frak. Fixed the method of FTL used in BSG. Thank you to Chloe and BSGfan1123 for the tips.