I don't own Battlestar Galactic.
Please let me know what you think.
Forlorn Hope.
They had thought he had just reached into a fighter helmet and plucked the name of their potential new home from there. But they were wrong. Commander Adama had been a Colonial Warrior his entire life. He had risen smartly through the ranks, decorated and well known with a good reputation for cunning and skill, and he had the medals to prove it while he came from a proud lineage of Warriors, although his family were not as strict as other such lines - he'd had several family members who'd chosen other paths, and they had excelled in them all.
But there was more to his life than being able to command a Battlestar. Adama had always had a fascination with history, and his interest had taken him to the libraries and archives of his home colony. He had always been fascinated by the foundation of the Twelve Tribes of Man and the early years of Colonial exploration before the disastrous first contact with the Cylons which had spiralled out of control, and eventually led to the extinction of the Reptilian Cylons and the growth of the cybernetic android monsters they'd built in their image, which meant the androids were cold, heartless, merciless killing machines.
It hadn't been easy for Adama to find the records which led him to discover there was, incredibly enough, a Thirteenth Tribe of Man. He'd had to pull in hundreds of favours and visit dozens of ancient shrines and enclaves just to even realise such a tribe existed. But it did. At first, Adama had been fascinated by the potential existence of such a tribe, and what it meant for the Twelve Tribes, but when he had uncovered the records which contained general star charts depicting an epic journey which made the earliest exploration voyages look like they were just stepping out of a house for a ten-minute walk, Adama had been shocked and even more so because he had not been able to answer some important questions.
Why had this great journey started?
Had the Thirteenth Tribe and its Twelve brothers split off due to some terrible civil war or mass pandemic which was so unspeakable the records were lost?
Did the Thirteenth Tribe still exist?
Did their planet known as Earth still exist?
Adama didn't know the answer to any of those questions. He had sometimes mused about his knowledge of the Thirteenth Tribe on and off over the years, and he had often debated with himself about those questions. But even with his experience, he knew he would never learn of the answers to his questions. Not only had too many centuries passed between this exodus and split off experienced by the tribes, but there was such a distance between them, crossing galaxies that it would take thousands of jumps just to find out. Adama had long since learnt to live with the fact he would never discover the truth.
Until now, although truthfully it seemed as if he were ordained by the Gods to seek out the Thirteenth Tribe now there was virtually nothing left of the other Twelve Tribes. The Cylons had lured the fleet into a trap and they'd attacked them at their leisure, using Baltar's treachery and President Adar's spineless gullible pacifism to their advantage. Adama would never be sure what happened; he had no idea if Baltar had come up with the plan to destroy the colonies and then approached the Cylons on his own, or if the Cylons had done it themselves, but he saw the outcome. The Cylons had lulled the Colonies into a false sense of security, making them unknowingly weaken their defences and have all of their ships clustered into a sector dangerously far from their homeworlds.
It was little wonder the Cylons had been able to batter them down; the Battlestars had been under the command of leaders who had been so sure peace after centuries of war was about to be made, they had been taken by surprise by the swarms of Cylon fighters.
But Adama had been wary of the whole idea; unlike his fellow leaders, Adama had been fighting the Cylons for years, and while they utilised a brutal and cold logic of their own, they were cunning and not above coming up with traps and manipulating situations to their advantage. Adama had seen it for himself, the depths they were willing to sink to; he would never forget how the Cylons had launched a number of attacks against their mining outposts which had forced the Colonial admiralty to conclude the Cylons were planning a war of attrition where metals and chemicals needed for the ongoing war effort would be so prized the Cylons could win, so the decision to post a number of Battlestars and fighter squadrons to protect the mines had been made… but nobody had realised the Cylons had launched a number of fighters against the Colonies.
It was a victory for the Cylons, both on a psychological level and a physical level; not only had thousands been killed in the attack, but the Cylons had reminded the Colonials they could put up defence after defence, they could still launch a devastating attack. Adama remembered how long it had taken and how hard the Warriors like himself had needed to fight to ensure the Cylons didn't attack while their people recovered.
Actually now he was thinking about it, perhaps the memory of that singular attack had been one of the primary reasons why Adar and the others were so quick and desperate to accept the 'offer' of peace; they had been determined to make sure future generations did not have to endure the same pain.
Yes, that would be like Adar. But at the same time, his hopes and pacifism had clouded his judgement and his reality. Adama knew the blame wasn't solely directed towards the President - Gods rest his soul - it could be placed on the shoulders of many people, including himself.
Alas, there was nothing he could do about it now. He had more important things to worry about; namely the safety and the security of the fleet carrying the survivors of the colonies. Adama knew he would need to find a new world for them, but it was not going to be easy. In fact, it was liable to be virtually impossible; the Cylons would know they had escaped, and considering their recent victory they would not stop - ever - until humanity was eradicated.
Exterminated.
No, their home galaxy was no longer safe. And when Adama had worked that out, he had remembered the Thirteenth Tribe. Initially, he had been wary of the thought of the journey; an interstellar voyage was one thing, an intergalactic voyage was completely different and it went outside all current human experience. Galactica's computer was programmed with the star charts and the survey reports of their own galaxy, they had no idea what awaited them in the dark void between galaxies, and they didn't know what they would find on their journey. But they had no choice.
Earth was millions of light-years away, hopefully, that would allow them to escape the Cylons even if it could be a forlorn hope.
Author's Note - It never made much sense to me that Adama just learnt about Earth's existence in a short few days. No, it made sense that he had discovered its existence in ancient archives and libraries of the Twelve Colonies.