Red Galactica
By Chaoseternus
Okay, I know i said this would be a one-shot but, well my muse added a seconnd chapter. I would say this was the end but i know my muse too well, there may be more, there may not be.
And for the record, I need an antimuse bazooka.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed.
Two
Adama watched with incredulous and disbelieving eyes as the Starbug crashed into his landing bay. They even managed to hit both sides of the bay on their way in, something which Adama couldn't remember anyone having successfully managed before.
Except, Adama admitted to himself, for that incident in his youth when they had intercepted a freighter supposed to be carrying contraband only to find out later that not only had the contraband been of the hallucinogenic variety but they had been stored in the ventilation system in containers which hadn't properly been sealed.
It explained how easily the caught the freighter.
Luckily for him, it also got him out of court martial on medical grounds, he had managed to hit both sides of the bay that day too.
Crashed.
There was no other word for the sheer lack of skill shown by the Pilot, they were either high, drunk or in desperate need of some piloting lessons.
Sorry about the piloting, Cat insisted it was his turn to drive and well, we didn't get rid of the rear view mirrors in time
Adama decided quite firmly he wasn't touching that one.
Before he could speak however, the one he assumed was Rimmer from Lister's description(Smeghead of a hologram with a large H impressed permanently into his forehead) spoke up.
Listy, I think Cat better stay aboard ship and there's three good reasons at 3 O'Clock
Adama glanced around, but didn't spot anything other than Cally, Boomer and Starbuck looking interested at the new arrivals.
Lister on the other hand seemed to notice whatever was wrong.
Oh, smeg it all to smegging heck. Cat, could you please stay aboard and keep an eye on the wing mirrors for us
Adama realised as soon as Cat stepped out the door that he was in for a real bad day.
They hadn't mentioned over the radio that Cat was, well, a cat.
Don't worry about the wing mirrors. See, I brought a spare
Adama resisted the urge to groan as the mirror was flicked over every inch of the Cats face as he searched, comb at the ready for the slightest imperfections.
Hairs looking good Clothes are looking good Looking Good. I'm looking good!
They hadn't mentioned a narcissist streak wider than the Galactica herself.
Hey, are those girls?
Adama groaned in time with Rimmer and Lister as the mirror flashed out again, followed by combs, hair gel, the works.
He knew he should have just stayed in bed.