Chapter One

A young man hurtled through space at five hundred miles an hour. He sat at the helm of a state-of-the-art Colonial mark seven viper. This was a small one manned fighter craft shaped like a silver arrow and was one of the Colonial Fleets most recent achievements.

The man sighed deeply into his flight helmet - causing a small patch of condensation to appear. This was not the re-assignment he had been hoping for - he had too much on his mind. Lieutenant Robin Giles was a short, stocky young man with red hair and sky blue eyes. He was in no mood to be transferred from one Battlestar to another after he'd just gotten word that his fiancé had died.

At the age of twenty five some might have said that Giles was too young to have settled down. But as far as Giles was concerned, he loved Katrina and he wanted more than anything else to marry her. That was a simple enough reason. He didn't have to explain himself to anyone.

Giles had been serving on the Battlestar Solaria for two years. And in those two years he had gotten to know most of the crew and his fellow officers and felt like part of a large family. It was a great feeling. It was an environment he was comfortable. It was like a home away from home.

His world turned upside down when he had been told of his fiancés death. She died in a mid air collision between two transport spacecraft. She had been travelling to the colony of Virgon to stay with her parents before the wedding when the other spacecraft collided with hers. The resulting explosion killed the crew and passengers of both craft. The fact that the transport ships failed to see each other remained a mystery to those that investigated the crash. But Giles didn't care about the reasons. All he cared about was the fact that his fiancé had died leaving him with a deep sense of emptiness.

His friends on the Solaria supported him initially, but he gradually withdrew from those around him. As he saw them interact with each other, laughing and joking, it only made him feel more isolated.

He still hadn't recovered from the first blow when he received a second: he was being transferred to the Battlestar Solaris. This had nothing to do with his personal situation. It was the Colonial Fleet shifting crew and officers between ships, as they do every so often, to keep up manpower and resources.

This was no comfort to Giles. In his depressive state he began to feel that he was being stripped of everything that he held dear.

He was completely lost in his thoughts when a buzz sounded from his dradis console. Giles looked down at the dradis screen. It showed a single contact: the Battlestar Solaris, his new home from home.

As he flew on, the massive Battlestar came into view. The Colonial Battlestar was roughly the shape of a whale. It had a large nose cone at the front; a box shaped main body and eight cylindrical shaped engines at the back. On either side of the ship were flight pods that extended from the main body of the ship. The ship was grey-brown in colour and nearly every inch of the hull was covered in ridges and grooves.

The ship grew bigger still as he approached when the intercom in his helmet buzzed to life.

"Viper two-seven-zero, this is Solaris, approach starboard landing bay, auto land, speed one-zero-one, checker is red, call the ball."

The voice was clear but monotonous. Already the Solaris sounded like a boring place.

"Copy that, Solaris, I have the ball," replied Giles - sounding equally bored.

He flew his Viper into the aft end of the starboard flight pod and lowered his speed. On his approach to the pod he saw the landing guidance lights spring into action.

As Giles flew inside the flight pod, the bored voice sounded in his helmet once more:

"Viper two-seven-zero, transfer control to Solaris auto land system, over?"

Giles pressed a button on his control panel that switched the control of his craft over to the Solaris auto pilot.

"Copy that, Solaris, auto land system activated."

And with that, Giles relaxed in his seat and waited for the Solaris computer to land his viper on the red-checkered landing pad. The Viper touched down on the pad with the slightest jolt and powered down automatically.

The Landing Signal Officer (L.S.O) announced Giles' arrival by saying: "Skids down, mag locks secured."

He then spoke directly to Giles: "On behalf of the Solaris I'd like to welcome you aboard, Spitfire."

Giles snorted maybe a bit too loudly but managed to recover by saying: "Copy that, Solaris."

The elevator pad that he had landed on began lowering him into the hangar deck below the landing bay. The artificial gravity kicked in - making everything feel heavier.

When the elevator pad reached the hangar deck, Giles remained in his seat while a tractor towed him into a clear bay in the main hangar area. A deckhand pushed some steps alongside Giles' Viper and climbed up to help him lift the canopy. She then helped him to take off his helmet and spacesuit collar-ring.

As this was just part of procedure, Giles ignored the deckhand until he stepped out of the cockpit and caught her eye. She was a strikingly attractive brunette with a kind face, blue eye - like his, and a well proportioned physique. She smiled at him a he climbed down the steps.

Oh great, Giles thought to himself sarcastically.

He could still feel her eyes on him as he was greeted by the Chief Petty Officer.

"Afternoon, sir," said the man as he saluted, "Chief Raymond. I'm the crew chief aboard the Solaris."

Chief Raymond was about a head taller than Giles. He had neatly cut brown hair and matching stubble. His orange and black jump suit was stretched a little over his slightly chubby build.

"Afternoon, chief," said Giles, saluting back. "Lieutenant Robin Giles."

"So I hear you're the one that got reassigned from the Solaria," said the Chief.

"Yeah, that's me," Giles said roughly.

He began to walk away from his Viper towards the access hatch to E-deck at the other side of the hangar bay. The Chief followed.

"I also hear you've got quite a résumé behind you," he said, keeping pace beside Giles.

"Perfect score in nine out of ten war games. The CAG's pretty excited to see what you can do in the next training session."

Giles wondered if the chief would ask for his autograph next.

"And sir?"

"Yes, Chief?" said Giles, stopping and turning to face him.

"Watch out for some of the pilots, they're a bit rough on new kids."

"Oh, really?" said Giles, sounding amused. "Any particular one I should watch out for?"

"Captain Luteford," said the Chief.

"I reckon I'm gonna enjoy the drill brief," said Giles. "Thankyou Chief, that'll be all."

They saluted each other and went their separate ways. The Chief returned to his post to oversee the maintenance of a malfunctioning engine. Giles walked past the numerous Vipers, the whirring of drills and the clanging of hammers, and reached the access hatch to E-deck.


Two Battlestars, ten Cylon Base-stars. A flash of light. Screams of terror and pain. Then nothing. Nothing but black, empty space. Then something stirs in the distance. A red eye moving back and forth, getting closer and closer and closer…

Commander Brown woke with a start. He sat up in his bunk and wiped the cold sweat off his brow. He looked around his private quarters. Everything was where he left it. His uniform jacket was hanging off the back of his chair. The book he was reading was still on his desk, and there was a bowl of half finished pasta on his coffee table.

He got up and walked into the washroom. He stopped when he reached the sink and filled it up with cold water. He splashed water over his face a few time and then stared at his reflection in the mirror.

He saw a man in his late fifties, with greying brown hair and a goatee staring back at him. Commander Brown had the appearance of a muscular man gone slightly to seed. His arms were still large and powerful, but his stomach was round. He had steely blue eyes that were usually under a pair of glasses. His face gave the impression that he could give a charming smile or a cold, unnerving frown.

Commander Brown was the Battlestar Solaris' Commanding Officer, and he was expected in C.I.C to oversee the daily drill practise.

The C.I.C (Combat Information Centre) was the nerve centre of the Battlestar. It controlled flight and combat operations and was located deep within the ship for maximum protection.

Brown drained the sink, glanced at his reflection once more and then strode out of the washroom. He went to his desk chair, picked up his uniform jacket and put it on. After buttoning it up, he went over to the access hatch to his cabin. The hatch slid open automatically to reveal the corridor outside. Brown stepped out of his cabin and set off to C.I.C, the hatch closing behind him as he went.