Chapter 13:

Battlestar Hyperion War Room, Uncharted Space, En route to Kobol

Day 21, 21:50 PFT

The arrival of the Battlestar Draconis had signalled a change in the whole dynamic of the Fleet; and not just in the military and the additional security that came with two more behemoths referred to as Battlestars. There had been some friction in the initial integration of the new ships and crews but as the ships kept to themselves for the most part, not many issues had arrived.

However, while there were not many issues blighting the miracle of the Draconis' arrival, there had been a few complications. One such complication came again from the civilian population of the Fleet. At the most recent count, it was decided that there were 23,219 survivors in the whole of the Fleet; with only around 9,000 of which being civilians. This imbalanced had forced John into declaring martial law soon after their arrival in the Draconis Star Cluster and since then complaints from the civilian ships had grow more frequent as they felt more and more trapped on their ships.

Many of the crew had also been raising concerns about their families and the chances – however slim – that they may in fact have survived and be on one of the civilian ships. Attempts had been made to get in contact with those ships, but communication was difficult, and the numbers of civilians crammed onto some of the smaller ships were making it difficult to process them all.

In the original mission plan for the colonisation of Kobol, John and the mission commanders had a list of all the personnel that would be taken with them. The Cylon attack had seen the end of any such structure, and only about half of the surviving civilian ships were from the planned with, with the vast majority of ships destined for the mission having been most likely destroyed with the Colonies, either in port or on other assignments. This meant most of the people that would be most useful for the new colony and the people closest to the crews of the fleet were mainly gone and productivity would suffer as a result.

The promise that there had been some sort of contingency plan and that their families might be fine had also not gone down particularly well across the fleet, and understandably so. Vague promises and hope were all John could offer and that was not enough. Not for people who had lost their families. Not for people that had lost their homes. And not for people whose entire lives had been ripped apart by salvos of nuclear fire.

All this had been discussed by the Commanders of every ship in the fleet – both civilian and military – as they prepared to the final stage of their journey to Kobol.

"We won't make it all the way there without some sort of fuel supply," Commander Jorge Wilson, the youngest Battlestar commander in the remainder of the Colonial Fleet, said. "The Sirius was not prepared for any kind of prolonged mission and most of the civilians weren't either,"

"Some of our ships were on their way home when the Cylons came, sirs. They've only made it this far by rationing everything they can," The civilian Captain of the Naxos added.

"Us and the Draconis have been at sea for months now, Commander Wilson," The Commander of the Battlestar Persephone told her fellow Commanders, stepping forward through the crowded room as she spoke. "We did find resources to resupply in a system not too far from here,"

"And this is where we are headed at the moment," Admiral Moore explained. "There's an asteroid field in orbit of a small habitable world that has enough tyllium to get us to Kobol at the least,"

"It's not the easiest to mine but we've made it work once and can make it work again," The Captain of a civilian tyllium ship that had arrived with the Draconis' fleet said.

"A known tyllium site is all well and good, but how do we know that the Cylons won't be lying in wait?" The Gunstar Horatio's Commander (who actually possessed the rank of Colonel like the other Gunstar Commanders) asked. A general mumble of agreement went around the room after the Colonel's comment.

"Well unless you have a better idea we should give it a shot," Commander McGill from the Themis said, clearly getting frustrated with how this meeting was going. The Commanders had been in the War Room for well over an hour and had so far only managed a few points of order. Across the room, Admiral Moore – another one of the many Commanders who was getting thoroughly sick of this meeting – hung his head and shook it towards the

"While it is possible for us to reach Kobol with all of our ships - if and only if we manage to save enough fuel - that still won't account for any deviations we may take. If we get attacked by the Cylons after a few jumps we won't be able to make it back to the resupply point and we'll be stuck out in deep space with no option but to start leaving our ships or our people behind!"

From the back of the War Room, watching on silently, was John. Though he had resigned himself to simply listening about twenty minutes before, he couldn't but smile when he thought about how far Admiral Moore had progressed since he was a Viper jockey just a decade before.

After Admiral Moore's remark, another round of clucking went around between the Commanders. "Look," Commander Wilson shouted over the hubbub. "I'm as worried about stopping as any of you, but in the last few days we've only been in contact with a handful of Raiders – let alone Basestars – and we've dealt with them easily."

"Agreed," Commander McGill said. "As far as we know they don't know we survived our escape from the Colonies."

"And that were not lost in space," Commander Linear from the Battlestar Theia added.

"I doubt they would even think to look out this far. Especially not after how far you all jumped to get to the Star Cluster," Admiral Moore added.

More murmurs of agreement went around as John stepped back to the middle of the scrum and placed his hands down on the table in the centre. "Which is exactly why I jumped us so far off! We have the advantage that they had before the attack. We are way behind their lines and heading for somewhere they may not even know exists. Not to mention we have the firepower of seven fully-crewed Battlestars and six Gunstars as well as fighters and crew we rescued from lost ships in the Colonies that have been reassigned all across the Fleet; even on our civilian ships! If we have the firepower to afford ourselves a few moments to rest and refuel, then the whole Colonial Fleet would either!"

The room quietened down for John's rant and briefly returned to murmuring before John banged his fist down on the table a couple of times to regain everyone's attention. The room once again fell suddenly silent and all eyes turned to John.

At first, no one said a word. John's gaze travelled around the room and met the eyes of each and every Commander in the room before he finally spoke. "As we do not have any other reasonable choice… do we have a consensus?" Another murmur went around the room. "I need agreement, not mumbling!" John shouted, breaking his previously calm demeanour once again. Silence again fell over the room. "All hands in favour…" Unanimously, all the Commanders, Colonels and Admirals raised their hands. "Thank you," John breathed a sigh of relief and took a step back from the centre of the room. "Colonel Jartell," John looked back over his shoulder to Emily, who was standing quietly on the edge of the raised rear section of the room. "The meeting is concluded. Please show the Commanders back to their ships and get Lieutenant Yo to prepare for mining operations as soon as we arrive."

"Aye sir," Emily replied, pushing herself away from the rail she was leaning against and walked down to the bottom level. "If you'd all like to come with me…" The Commanders, still talking and arguing amongst themselves, followed Emily to the door and stepped through it one by one; the ambient noise in the room lowering significantly. John, exhausted after the never-ending bickering, bent over, rested his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands, letting out a long, hard sigh as he did.

"That was quite the meeting," A voice said from just to John's right. Rubbing his eyes clear, he stood back up straight and looked over at Admiral Moore who had stayed behind and not followed the rest of the Commanders. "If the Cylons can't bring that lot together you shouldn't blame yourself too much, sir."

"I don't blame myself Foxhunt," John replied, calling Admiral Moore by his old Viper call-sign. "I'm just not use to meetings that big… or that frustrating!" The younger Admiral reached up and put a hand on John's shoulder as Admiral Jenkins took in a long breath. "I worry that we're up against the wall. If it won't be enough."

"It'll be enough John. Look to the first war. Back then we struggled to muster a fleet half this size, what with the Colonies all bickering with each other and everything…"

"We?" John asked jokingly. "I doubt you even remember the aftermath of the war. Especially since Picon hadn't seen any action on the ground for a number of years by the time the war ended!"

"No, I don't… but does that matter? We worked together for years John. We all have. We're lucky to have a team that work so well together. Maybe it was planned, maybe it wasn't. We have the power and might of the 12 colonies, even if they aren't around to see it."

"How much do we have though Jeffrey? You're not the first Admiral we've met on this little trip of ours. Admiral Berk and the Mercury? Gone in an instant because of one mistake. Admiral Grey and the Atlas? Gone in their first fight with us. The Nemesis and Fearless were half-destroyed when they found us and lasted only a few minutes! Gods, even Admiral Nagala and the entire rest of the Fleet. We had a chance to fight with them, to resist the Cylons together, and they fell apart. There was nothing I could do for any of them and what if there's nothing I can do for you?"

"Look John, all we can do is push on. What other choice do we have? I know there have been so many Admirals, Commanders, Captains, brave men and women who have already joined you… us… and died for us. If me and my crew are to face the same fate, we will do so without hesitation; just as you would. Without us the human race cannot survive. We are all that's left. We have to try."

John was silent for a few moments, only nodding slightly. "Then we will. For the human race?" John turned to Jeffrey and held out his hand. Smiling, Admiral Moore took and they held the shake for a few moments before there was a knock at the door.

"Admiral? Admiral Moore?" Major Terzik, CAG of the Draconis, stuck his head around the already partially opened door. "We're waiting for you in the hangar sir. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, of course," Jeffrey said, pulling his hand away from John and stepping past him. John turned with the Rear Admiral as he walked past and as he reached the door, John snapped into a salute. "Admiral, Draconis: Departing!" Jeffrey matched his salute and gave the senior Admiral a wink as he stepped through the door and swung it shut, with an all too familiar – though still unwelcome – clunk.