By ChaosEternus
Thanks to LONA of the BSGWS for Beta'ing this fic for me.
Chapter 5First, avoid roaring flames by diving the hell out of the way.
Check and ouch.
Second remove Donally's boot from my face. Checked off. Also make mental note about getting some washing done for all of us, erghhh his foot stank.
Third, examine team mates and the guard for injury -- well, further injury. Guard is still out cold
Fourth, curse as I notice Dafydd broke his arm diving for safety, bloody brilliant.
Okay, fifth check out the fire.
Contemplate running from fire.
Forget checklist, "Guys, now might be a real good time to evac."
They take one glance and jump to their feet, eager to clear Dodge, especially Dafydd who, just to fill me with a complete sense of ease, mutters something about a fuel line under his breath.
Okay, so we need to evac, let's just start the check on that one now .
We race swiftly through the corridors away from the fire, through quiet, largely abandoned and under-populated corridors hoping to reach an area with crew, officers just someone we could try and communicate with, well as fast as you can race with an unconscious guard slung over the shoulder and a team mate with a broken armIE, not very fast at all.
We arrived at last in a massive chamber, apparently some kind of cathedral with clear glass windows all along its massive length showing a magnificent view of space, and rows of seating facing a massive stage on which what appeared to be religious accoutrements lay alongside a bank of microphones on an announcing platform.
But the view… without a doubt this room was dominated by the view.
However, it begged the question: why have this large a religious meeting place, or whatever they called it, on a warship when this space could easily accommodate a full squadron of fighters?
Shrugging, I buried this anomaly in a rapidly bloating file in my mind labelled "aliens."
At least this room was occupied, and by a priest or their equivalent. With a presence like that, she could be nothing else.
"Excuse me!" I called, knowing she would not understand but that it would get her attention.
Startled, she jumped up from her prayers, glancing around to us, composing herself surprisingly quickly.
First off, we showed her Dafydd's arm and the guard. She seemed to understand and tried to lead us away, presumably to medical or whatever they called it.
But we still had to explain about the fire.
Gestures didn't do it, though it got the idea across we had something important to say.
Neither did sound effects, though she did have to struggle to hide a smile at several and at least one caused her to blush.
I decided not to question her about that if we ever figured out each other's language. I got the idea that I didn't want to know.
Finally, Dafydd growled in exasperation and pulled the pad and pen with his good arm from my pocket. Dropping them on the nearest table, he drew quickly and with an impressive efficiency a pipe with a break, liquid gushing from it.
That made the Priest look worried.
Then Dafydd added the flames.
BSG-75 Command
"Frak!" the word spat with venom from Tigh's mouth as he listened to Elosha's words over the old-fashioned phone.
"Tigh," Adama's gruff voice made Tigh look up sharply as he dropped the phone back into its holder, "Manoeuvring Starboard are complaining about thrusters not responding as well as they should, both the fore and aft arrays"
Tigh grimly nodded as he reached for the intercom, "DC parties 1 through 4 to starboard bay, fire in main thruster line between sections 2 and 8."
Adama stopped walking away and shot Tigh a worried look over his shoulder as Tigh continued, "DC party 5, reroute thrusters through B line and shut the main line off, priority"
A fire on a major fuel line, whilst in combat.
Murphy had come to visit the colonials.
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