This story is supposed to be a romance between the Doctor Who main character Clara Oswald and Lieutenant Margaret 'Racetrack' Edmonson. Currently we are at an early point in the story, for the Galactica and her ships have just succeeded in their mission of Kobol and have yet to meet up with Pegasus, the group has met with the U.S.S. Exeter and has had long relations already with the Task Group under Colonel Lorne. The Doctors have shown up, accidentally dropping right out on the hangar deck of Galactica, after a short interlude of comedy, they are arrested and interrogated. After they are released, on authority of Laura Roslin, their ships, which are screwed over, are set on Cloud Nine where they work day in day out to fix them. While Donna Noble and Amy Pond, traveling with the David Tennant (10th) and Matt Smith (11th) Doctors, are happy with helping out the best they can; Clara is constantly growing more and more frustrated with the Peter Capaldi (12th) Doctor for his condescension. Finally, Clara snaps and leaves to join the Fleet.

On Battlestar Galactica some are still shocked by the entrance of Helo and a second Boomer, with the first Boomer dead, Lieutenant Margaret 'Racetrack' Edmonson is now the senior Raptor pilot and ECO. Galactica is still short of pilots, many killed in the hanger pod explosion were Raptor pilots celebrating. While Starbuck is trying to recover from her experience on Caprica, and Lee Adama is off ship acting as a liaison for the Colonial Fleet, Racetrack has the duty for training new Raptor ECOs and former ECOs to be pilots.

The story goes on. . . . .

(Author's Note: I know I'm not the best at context and conversational writing, much better at exposition, but I hope this satisfies your hunger for more. I will indeed continue to write, but this story may be delayed at I happen to have an idea for another Someone. Anyway I hope you enjoy the following couple thousand words and give me some constructive criticism and feedback. Viewers and Followers, I saw you two guys out there, you guys are awesome!

Cloud Nine: Outer Gardens

The Doctor didn't quite understand humans since his twelfth regeneration, day after day he acted as if they were ants and he was the boot coming down to smash him. He constantly argued with his younger selves, the 10th and the 11th Doctors, sometimes to the point Donna Noble and Amy Pond would join Clara on a trip to the bar on Cloud Nine. Clara was losing her patience rapidly, day after day her Doctor, as much as she hated that term, talked about her wrong choices, acted like she didn't exist, treated her like a slave. She was to the point of slapping the Scotsman. Neither Amy or Donna seemed to feel the same, Donna oddly was dumb and was a grease-monkey for the 10th Doctor, Amy in a way 'owning' the 11th. But Clara had no control, no connection, to this Scotsman, when she had traveled with the 10th she had been happy and free, connected closely with the wide chinned man. Her heart had almost broken the moment she saw he had another woman and didn't even recognize Clara.

Finally, she was going to do it. Her Doctor's TARDIS was the one of choice for work, they said that his exploded, they would still have all the memories, and the whole group was in there when Clara barged in the door.

"Do resist Clara, that door is a thousand years old, it'd be shame if you broke it." the Twelfth was crouching on one side of the main panels, up to his elbows in wires from the console. Clara approached where he was squatting and kicked one of his feet out from under him. The Scotsman stood and turned a look of anger on his Scottish face. "What do you think you're doing Clara!"

Clara slapped him, he came back, one hand on the side of his face, Clara stopped him from talking. "You should be ashamed of yourself Doctor." The other Doctors were paying attention now. Clara started to advance, pushing the Twelfth back. "Out there are thousands of soldiers fighting for us everyday! And what are you doing? wasting away in this room with two people you hate, and hate you by the way, and making no progress! You said it to us a day ago, there is no hope of her ever flying again, not until we figure out what is in this great expanse of space! Yet still you sit here and toil worthlessly away with as little as no hope for tomorrow being more successful than today!"

The Doctor had been driven back as far as he could go, Clara was standing on her toes to get close enough to his face. "You are pathetic Doctor," She turned "all of you! Pathetic to the core, yesterday I heard five pilots were killed in combat with the Wraith, all because their fighters malfunctioned and they were too far from home."

"Well what do expect me to do eh! I'm a Doctor, I don't kill people!"

"So you don't kill people, like the last human you told me about? Like the men on the Orient Express? You don't kill people Doctor! You leave them to die, you let them die!"

"How can I help the people if I can't use my TARDIS?" the Scotsman seemed to be growing shorter.

"You can bloody help! People need food, need pilots, need mechanics, need security and negotiators!" The Tenth had been standing nearby with his sonic screwdriver, looking at a flipped section of wall, Clara took the device and tossed it away, the man exclaimed and went after it.

"You expect me to roll over and work for the military?" The Scotsman had anger on his face now, he was starting to regain his composure. Eleventh, Amy and Donna were secretly eavesdropping while faking work.

"Doctor, haven't you looked outside recently? Three times a week, at least, we are attacked, and each time I see people die, be they Taur'i or Colonials, they just keep dieing."

The Doctor go in close, his face less than six inches from Clara's. "I am not helping the military."

Clara bit her lip. It was decided then, she let him know. "Fine, you won't? I will." A book could have hit everyone in the room, even the Tenth stopped and tilted his head in inquiry.

"What?" the Twelfth asked.

"I heard that Galactica needs pilots, I have signed up, there is a Raptor departing in ten minutes." Clara stepped back, she could tell that the Twelfth was shocked, his eyebrows were almost in his hairline.

"Clara," He was speaking like she was hurt, or she was a dog who had done something wrong.

"Don't 'Clara' me!"

"Clara you don't have to do this." It was Amy, she had made her way around the console and had come up beside Clara. "You don't have to join up."

"Don't I though! He is so busy fixing his ship that he doesn't realize that half the people out there aren't getting more than half a piece of bread and a half cup of water per day! That everyday a pilot puts his life on the line when making a blind jump to scout out a hiding spot for the fleet."

"But you can help other ways Clara, many other ways."

Clara spun to see the Eleventh standing before her, she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around him and knock him to the floor, she missed him so much. "It's the way I chose Doctors, and I'm going to walk it."

"But a soldier Oswin." Donna was standing beside the Tenth at a lower level.

"Danny was a soldier, wasn't he Doctor." she looked at her Doctor, he avoided her gaze. Clara pushed past Eleventh and Amy to get out the door, an amount of steps were following her on the grated floors of the TARDIS, she was out to where her bags were. She had purposely built up an amount of rage before she entered the TARDIS, now she could feel her eyes burn with bitter tears as she grabbed the one small pack she had and moved quickly from the private corner of the gardens. By the time she was out of sight from the Doctor's and their companions, she had to stop and dry her eyes of the now quickly flowing tears.

"That went well." The Tenth looked from side to side, Donna giving him a strange look of question.

"She'll be back, they always are." the Eleventh was turning, having to avoid playful swings from the long-legged Amy Pond.

"No," the Twelfth's gaze was hard and unmoving from the corner Clara had gone around, "She isn't what you think. She's different from what she was."

"What're you talking about Doc?" Donna smiled quizzically with her brow creased.

"Ever since Danny died, she's never been the same. Now when she says something, she means it." The others mostly dismissed what the Twelfth said, he tended to be very contemplative and take his joke much to seriously. They all turned and went back into the TARDIS, leaving the Twelfth standing there, staring dumbly into space, wondering what would happen to his companion.

Battlestar Galactica (BS-75)

After the exposure of Sharon "Boomer" ValeriI as a Cylon, Lieutenant Junior Grade Margaret "Racetrack" Edmonson had been given the position. At first it had been fun, almost exciting, yet now as Racetrack stood before a group of ten candidates for Raptor Electronic Countermeasure Officer, it was becoming a burden.

Racetrack had been in the hanger when the drone had gone off and killed so many of their pilots, she herself had been lucky not to be killed or injured as well. After, not only had they been short of Viper Pilots, but even shorter of the celebrating Raptor Pilots who had made the majority of the dead. Now, with a full compliment of 40 Raptors, Racetrack was short of qualified pilots who could be replaced in their post as a ECO. The group had been quickly pulled from the three Raptors that had brought them on board, Cheif Tyrol and Lieutenant Thrace, also known as Starbuck, yelling at the strange group to get in line. The language was less than pleasant.

Once the group was in line Starbuck turned to Racetrack, who had just made it unto the deck, and almost spat the words at her. She had no need to show any courtesy to Racetrack, Racetrack's hurting nose proved that, and sauntered off to work on a nearby Viper, hissing a low curse as she passed.

There wasn't any good blood between Racetrack and Starbuck, it was a philosophical problem, Starbuck was a freelance, one who bucked authority every chance she got; Racetrack hated it when authority was ignored, it was the result of Sharon Valerii. Racetrack had been on the ship six months longer than Sharon when she was assigned to Galactica, she had a whole half year's experience, and Sharon had been assigned the senior Raptor pilot while Racetrack was actually senior. Racetrack didn't exactly have a problem with Sharon, back then they hadn't known her to be a Cylon, and had willingly worked as the senior ECO. But she always hated the way Starbuck acted around superiors, and she held the grudge for how close Kara Thrace was to the old man.

Finally the lines were straight enough for Chief Tyrol to step back and nod to Racetrack, she nodded back. Racetrack stepped before the group. "Listen up!" Heads snapped to look at her, all but one short brunette who seemed to hold herself straighter than the rest. "You are the replacements! Once you have completed your training you will not be able to return to civilian life until you have served a full military career." A timid hand came up and asked how long a full career was. "A full career is four years at a minimum! If you don't think you can take life here, those three Raptors are heading back to Cloud Nine where they picked you up from." No hands came up, a few glanced at the candidates around them, peer pressure kept them in the straight lines.

Racetrack nodded to the sergeant off to her right. Sergeant Gable, a man who Racetrack respected for his ability to maintain order, stepped in front of the group.

"Alright! Face to your right! Forward, MARCH!" The group set off, lead by Specialist Cally who would be the guide for the flight. After several paces Gable ordered the group to a run, following with the words: "You're in the Colonial Military now! You gotta move quicker than my dead granny!"

Racetrack followed the group all the way down to the lousing station where they were processed into the Colonial Military. Forms were signed, oaths were said, clothes were changed to the green utility clothing, shoes were exchanged for boots and bags were searched before the group was allowed into the barracks. After half an hour of processing the group was sitting in the pilot briefing room, lining the first two rows.

Racetrack had spoken with Kate and Hotdog, she had learned closely from Starbuck's mistakes, she was determined to make this group the best ECOs Galactica had ever seen. The second she entered the room and saw the heads turn towards her she almost had a heartattack. They were staring at her, everyone of them, eyes asking if she was a candidate or an instructor, some of the friendlier beginning to move to greet her when Gable called the room to attention.

"Officer on deck!" the room stood to attention, Gable had been taking several moments to teach the group common military etiquette on a battlestar. They were scrubs, they weren't exactly sharp in the movement, but it was enough for Racetrack.

Walking to the podium, Racetrack stole herself, remembering in a second all she must. "Be seated. Thank you Sergeant." Gable went to the rear of the room and guarded the door, he was to see that none of the idiot Viper jocks tried to get in the room and ruin her class.

Racetrack opened the binder she had and flipped to the opening pages to be her guidelines. "Good morning nuggets." the replies were sluggish and few, most seemed to be scared of this hard faced woman before them. "Well then, if you didn't already know, I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Margaret Edmonson, pilots call be Racetrack. I will be your teacher. . . ."