With a bright glow, as bright as a nova, yet as quick as the flickering of a firefly's light, a ship suddenly appeared within the void.
The two occupants, both Colonial Fleet officers, quickly attempted to gage their situation.
-
Colonial Raptor Thirteen - Unknown Territory:
Margaret 'Racetrack' Edmondson searched the empty space around her Raptor in sudden panic, her pulse racing she stated finally, "This doesn't look right."
Roy 'Skulls' Focker, her sole companion and junior officer, panickly replied, "No other contacts on DRADIS."
Racetrack looked at Skulls, a look of disappointment on her face quite apparent.
"What?!" pleaded Roy as sweat started beading down Skulls' forehead. He announced, "Oh hell, we're at the wrong jump coordinates."
He then quickly added, "I think there was some kind of glitch in the nav-con firmware. Bottom line, we're not anywhere near where we're supposed to be, L.T."
Taking deep breaths, Racetrack tried to relax. "Okay... uh, any chance that we can still catch up with them?" she hoped.
Skulls brought her back to reality with, "Not a chance. Mission rules say we head back." Looking at his instruments with some concern as the computer was still calibrating their position.
"Frak me! It was the first jump!" The frustrated Racetrack cursed out loud, angrily hitting the console in front of her with her fists.
"Hey, look, you're the one who gave me these coordinates," Skulls replied in defense, then looked at the red indicators on his screens.
"...frak me," he swore.
"Agreed. Back to the barn," Racetrack acknowledged their defeat.
"No, I meant frak me as in, we are screwed. We're over ten thousand light years away from where we should be, and most of the systems were just fried," which accompanied the shutting down of the displays.
"Fried? How is that possible?" From her vantage point, Racetrack could see ice crystals starting to form outside the glass canopy of her Raptor, not a good sign. The only thing worse would be for a Cylon Raider to show up with a few friends.
"I have no idea. It seems as if we went through a massive EM field, though nothing like that should be able to exist in a vacuum. Look, we are stuck. Unless you got you got the replacement parts in your back pocket, sir, the only way we're moving this ship is to get out and push." Roy said with an unusual calm.
"Frak us, is anything working on this piece of shit Raptor?!" Racetrack yelled.
"I think I can get the DRADIS working if I re-route a few things. On the other hand, the navigational computers for the jump engine are completely fried. The jump drive is useless now, so we can power it down. " Skulls intoned.
The look of fright on Racetrack's face was apparent as Skulls continued.
"I'd need to open a few panels to see exactly what we can get operational."
"Let's get to it, then," Racetrack ordered.
"Yes, sir... it's a good thing I took a few courses in basic repair," he sighed. "I hope I didn't fall sleep through most of it," he joked.
"Not funny," scolded Racetrack.
"Sorry, sir," apologized Skulls.
Immediately, the two broke out the tool box and began to remove the grills which carpeted the Raptor's deck. A mixed blessing came with the lack of artificial gravity.
Both Focker and Edmonson swore as they continually bumped into various objects. Of course, Roy Focker slowly began to turn green as his stomach churned due to the zero gee.
"Oh gods, I think I'm gonna be sick," Skulls swore weakly.
"Take the frakking anti-nausea pills," Racetrack said. She quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out two tablets.
However, it was too late, as she heard a violent retching. She looked and saw that the inside of Focker's helmet was covered in vomit.
"Frakkin' hell, take the helmet off, I'll clean it out," Racetrack tired voice snapped.
"Sorry, sir," Skulls appologized as he took the pills. "It's getting pretty cold in here."
"That is not the way to talk, soldier! Now, tell me what happened," ordered Racetrack.
"Okay, this is weird... It's as if we passed through some kind of mis-shaped EMP field; it fried some systems, yet left others alone. It's a good thing we didn't stay in it too long. I believe I can reroute the power to the functioning stuff."
"We might have limited propulsion capability, but I highly doubt that. Wireless should be good, same with life support and gravity. DRADIS is iffy, but I'm pretty sure I can get it working again... I think. Partial functionality is better then none," Skulls reported.
"Don't just think so, soldier, know so. We can frakking do this," Racetrack said as she looked at the crystals forming on some of the panels; adding quietly, "I hope."
She froze in place as memories of her childhood came to her. Her father, her mother, both now dead. Her friends and families, no graves, no honor, no dignity. Cylons laughing, as they destroyed everything in an orgy of violence and bloodlust.
That was not the death she would face. She would fight, with every breath, every thought, every fiber of her soul. She prayed to the Gods, and cried. A single tear dropped from her cheeks hitting the floor, instantly frozen upon impact.
Then, a miracle happened. Her tear melted just as quickly as the lights came back on.
"Life support is back up! Next should be the DRADIS, and hopefully, the wireless," Focker announced.
"Roy, you're my frakking hero!" Racetrack said as she hugged him.
"Don't forget that when we go out for drinks... sir," Skulls said with a tired smile.
"You bet! Next round is on me," Racetrack said as she sobbed on Focker's shoulder.
"You okay, lieutenant?" he asked with a worried tone.
"...yeah..." Racetrack quietly replied.
Skulls resumed connecting wires, hoping that everything would work, and not blow up on them when he turned on the switch.
"We need to get some more wiring; I think we can rip some out from the door mechanism."
-
Colonial Raptor Thirteen - Several Hours Later
"I can't believe that we got most of this stuff working. It won't last long, but it will work," Skulls assured.
"I'm picking up two large planetary bodies. They're frakkin' close," he continued.
"Where'd that come from?" Racetrack was puzzled, at least they where within a star system.
Hopefully within wireless range of someone.
"Hell, if I know. Too many DRADIS interference sources here, they're barely registering..." Roy said.
"...oh my gods..."
"Spill it!" Racetrack exclaimed.
"There is a moon and a primary planet. Atmosphere is nitrogen/oxygen based. Organic molecular spectra. Fresh water? Hey, you know what this means? It's habitable! We may have just found a world that can support human life... but it's also occupied." Skulls stated.
"Occupied? By whom?" inquired the now puzzled Racetrack.
"That's not all, there appears to be multiple space habitats orbiting the planet's Liberation points, also inhabited. Thousands of them. Those things are frakking huge too, six point four kilometers in diameter and thirty two kilometers in length, for the smaller ones. Frak, they have thirty six and forty kilometer ones as well. Whoever is s building these things sure likes to think big."
Roy looked at the Dradis screen, "Oh frak, incoming contact, two hundred clicks away!"
"See if we can establish contact... hopefully, the wireless works," Racktrack muttered.
"Open a channel."
A few clicks later, Roy said, "Yes sir, channel open. We're on."
"This is Lieutenant Margaret Edmondson, callsign 'Racetrack', on-board Colonial Raptor Thirteen. We've had a jump error and ended up in your solar system."
"Our navigational computers are fried, our life support systems, wireless, and other vitals are barely holding. We need help, and hold no hostile intentions towards you. We come in peace, over." Racktrack pleaded.
"Repeat that on as many frequencies as you can," she ordered.
She looked out the window, and saw a small white dot. That dot, which was the incoming contact, grew visibly larger as a beeping noise announced an incoming transmission.
"This is Captain Bright Noah, commanding officer of the Argama. Is this some kind of a joke? You sound human, and you're speaking English?" the voice questioned.
"We are human!" Racetrack puzzeled, "We're from the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Why are you calling Colonial Standard, English? We urgently require assistance; our systems could go down any minute."
"Because English is what your speaking. Look, we're leaving a hot zone; Earth is in the middle of a limited, yet savage war. We'll be willing to render assistance, as soon as we get a good look at you. Just to make sure you are, who you say you are," Captain Noah replied.
"...holy frak, did he say 'Earth'?!" yelled an exited Roy Focker.
"...excuse me, did you say, 'Earth'?" asked Margaret, more calmly than her RIO.
"That's correct. As I was saying, prepare for to be intercepted. I'm sending a squad to rendezvous with you at one click out, and depending on their report, escort you here afterwards. I assume you're wearing normal suits?" Bright asked.
"Normal suits?" inquired Skulls.
"Pressurized space suits," replied Bright Noah, calmly.
"Yes sir, we are," replied Roy, turning to his commanding officer, quietly said, "Earth! Maybe we're not just a bunch of frak-ups after all!"
"No, We're frakking heroes, assuming we can fix this thing and jump back!" Racetrack replied, as quietly-yet-firmly, as a warm feeling came over her.
"Well, We have the Fleet's coordinates, as soon as we get more... oh, frakking hell," yelled Roy, "What the hell is that?!"
A bright, golden-hued humanoid robot with a blue chest area, made its way towards the Raptor. It was followed by two other darkly-colored, black robots, and all three were closing in. Racetrack was just about to scream "Cylon!!", when another voice came over the comm line.
"This is Lieutenant Quattro Bajeena of the Argama, we are here to check you out," the voice said.
"You're inside that Cylon?" Roy asked.
"Cylon? Just what, may I ask, is a Cylon? This is a mobile suit, and yes, I am the one piloting it," Quattro replied as the three robots, no, 'mobile suits', came to match speed and trajectory with their Raptor.
"Would you mind letting me aboard?"
"Damn... I wonder if the Cylons will frak themselves over, for not having the idea of building themselves 'jumbo-size', large?" Skulls muttered to himself.
"...copy that, we need to manually blow the hatch, since we used the wiring to fix the rest our systems." Focker replied, glancing at Racetrack, who nodded, after hesitating a moment.
Char Aznable, no, Quattro Bajeena, took out what appeared to be a hand held device, firing something at the unknown craft, a long wire shooting out and latching onto the hull.
Noticing that the hatch was already drifting loose, the hand held device rewound it's rope and pulled him towards the craft. He pulled himself inside, quickly noticing the female officer.
"Hello, as I said before, I'm Lt. Quattro Bajeena, a pleasure to meet you," Quattro smiled, grasping her hand.
Seeing the tears in her eyes, he held her more closely, to himself, saying, "It will be alright; please, calm down, tell me what happened."
Racetrack stiffened briefly at the sudden close contact, then let herself relax a bit, if only slightly more so, letting herself grieve.
"We were supposed to be jumping out to Caprica, our largest Colony, to save some survivors from the Holocaust, instead we ended up here." she choked out.
"Holocaust?" Quattro asked, his curiosity peaked at this revelation; yet it also twisted his stomach into knots.You didn't call something a holocaust unless it involved many people ending up dead.
"The Cylon Holocaust, those frakking machines, killed almost twenty-three billion humans. We only have around forty nine thousand souls left, in the Fleet. Two battlestars, the rest are civilian ships."
"We've had shortages of everything: food, water, medicines, you name it..." She continued as Quattro did something he hadn't done in some time, he listened to her words, offering what comfort he could.
-
Hyaku Shiki, Argama Squadron - 2 Hours After Initial Contact
Just under an hour later, Quattro returned to his Hyaku Shiki. Once the cockpit hatch was shut, he opened a secure, laser-based channel to the Argama.
Bright Noah's reaction to his report went about as well as he expected.
"Are you joking with me, lieutenant?" Bright asked.
"No sir, their story seems to checks out, from what I've seen. They possess artificial gravity, though barely functional, as well as some other systems which are far more advanced than even Anaheim's wettest dreams."
"However, quite a few of those were fried by a Minovisky field they crossed through, earlier," Quattro said.
"How many survivors did you say were, out there?" Bright asked.
"Forty-nine thousand, give or take a few. I must weep for the souls of their dead, billions of them. The remnants are suffering... they both need, and deserve, our help," Quattro said solemnly.
"...tow the ship in, we'll call a full meeting of the AEUG higher-ups. Only time will show what exactly they'll do." Bright ordered.
"I'm hoping we can get their 'Raptor's' electronics fixed up. Transversing through a Minovsky field without adequate protection was what fried most of their systems in the first place." Quattro paused, considering both the social and political changes that were bound to occur, and to his own distaste, the advantages such changes would benefit the AEUG.
"...we could possibly give their people refugee status. Their presence would help our own cause greatly." Quattro frankly stated.
"A good point... but that if their enemies follow them here? It sounds like they won't give a damn if we had nothing to do with their conflict with the Colonials. Only that we are human... and thus also valid targets," Bright said.
Quattro mulled that over... for just under two seconds.
"Honestly, I hope they do. It could help undo the Titans' influence. Possibly even unite us all. Also, I won't deny wanting to face the damned robots who made that woman cry and fire a mega particle cannon blast up their shafts... sir."
"...that is sentiment I fully share, admittedly. On the other hand, mankind versus machines sounds like an old cliché, if you ask me," Bright said, albeit grimly.
"All of life is a cliché, Captain," replied Quattro, just as grim.
"Although, if one of them is covered in human flesh and resembles a certain 20th century action movie star, turned-Governor-then-President, I'm running like hell... sir," Quattro said, with just the slightest inflection of humor.
Laughing lightly, Bright Noah replied, "Yes, I suppose you're right."
-
Anaheim Electronics: Research & Development, Von Braun City, Luna - 1 Week After Initial Contact
"Hey, you two aren't supposed to be in there!!" yelled Racetrack.
The Raptor was a mere skeleton as wiring was dangling loose everywhere. The Anaheim techs were not only rewiring the systems, but also reinforcing the hull.
The 'lunar titanium' gamma alloy they were using would considerably increase the Raptor's durability, yet remain relatively light, in terms of overall mass. The computers being installed were also more advanced than any used by the Colonials.
A youngish-looking, black-haired Asian male, whom yet strangely had the eyes of a combat veteran, along with a shorter, blond-haired man wearing glasses (who seemingly didn't have the same look in his eyes as his companion), were poking and prodding the cockpit controls.
"Oh! Sorry about that," replied the Asian male, who was wearing Lt., J.G. insignia.
"I just had to see what the controls were like... oh, right, my name's Kou Uraki. This other guy here is my good friend, Chuck Keith."
Kou shook her hand, whereas Keith smiled and waved briefly, then went back to studying the controls.
Racetrack frowned briefly, then recalled the all introductions made a few days ago, and one of the engineers she had been conversing with...
"Wait a second... you're Nina Purpleton's husband, right? She did tell me about you, a little. And yours is?" Racetrack asked, turning to Keith...
"Mora's..." replied Keith, with a sheepish expression.
"Huh... right, now I remember," Racetrack replied, lost in thought.
Now there was a really odd coupling, Racetrack thought to herself, short, somewhat geeky kid ending up hitched to a BIG, tough woman like Mora... talk about stereotype reversal.
"I heard you two just came out of retirement," Racetrack said, getting her thoughts back in check.
"Yes sir, just don't tell the Titans... they don't particularly like us," replied Keith.
"We'll be the ones escorting your Raptor back to your fleet, once its jump drive is re-installed, and our own jump drives are online, and operational. We were able to replace most of the fried circuit boards, luckily for you not everything went flat-lined. As a plus, our computers are well on par for your systems, including the jump calculations," Kou said, counting his fingers for each point.
Racetrack sighed in relief. Things were going smoothly... so far.
"The Fleet should have remained at the last staging area for a few more days, waiting for the outcome of the rescue operations at Caprica. If we have to, we can extrapolate a probable jump area and conduct a full search for them... we're gonna need scouts, a full recon force," Racetrack said with a grimace. She didn't think that the Earthers would be able to provide that kind of a force on such short notice.
A new voice cut in, causing Kou and Keith to jump in surprise. "Kou, you and Keith better behave yourself, or I'll call Mora to drag both of you out of here personally," Nina Purpleton chided with her fists on her hips. She softened her stern look after a moment with a small smirk. Nina Purpleton had quietly entered the hangar from behind them a minute or so earlier, catching the last few moments of the conversation.
"Yeah, yeah, we will..." came meekly from both Kou and Keith. At the same time.
"Well, the jump drives shouldn't be a problem anymore, even though the first few prototypes didn't pan out. The first few test drones exploded, imploded on activation, or were vaporized in transition," she continued.
When she had first spoke, Kou had practically jumped out of his uniform in surprise. Keith wasn't quite as animated, but still banged his head against the underside of the console he'd been studying.
In contrast, Racetrack merely stiffened briefly, almost spinning around in reflex to a crouch before recognizing the newcomer's voice.
"Some of 'em ended up within Jupiter, and one drone disappeared altogether, completely out of our star system. It took Dr. Yuri Minovsky himself and his team quite a while, not only to reproduce the jump drive, but to get the programming all worked out," the Nina continued. "We've finally finished work on the mobile suit-scale variant, and a capital ship version should be ready to install, in a day or two," Nina concluded.
"Getting the helium-3 reactors to power the drives also wasn't easy, until we found out that a beam rifle's e-caps could provide the controlled-energy discharge for the jump. Heck, they're also rechargeable," Nina Purpleton commented, as she walked past the Raptor.
That wasn't the only thing that was keeping Racetrack more than slightly on edge.
Some of their technolgies used by this 'Earth Federation' and its colonies still made her twitch nervously. In particular, the almost overwhelming usage of actual Energy beam weaponry. Which wasn't laser-based, but - along the lines of a particle beam. And the fact that it packed an incredible armor-penetration capability. On top of that, some varieties were portable enough to be carried by their mobile suits, as a frakking rifle.
A giant rifle, to be sure. But still, smaller than what their energy supply would demand, to be effective.
Definitely more dangerous than just about anything the Colonials had, with the possible exception of nukes.
She couldn't wait to see a Cylon fleet to go up against Earth ships... assuming that that happened before the Fleet moved on.
Changing the topic, Kou asked "I heard you're a fighter pilot?"
"Yeah, we call 'em Vipers," Racetrack said, glad for the interruption on her moment of introspection.
"What I'd give for a chance to fly one... but have you seen the linear-seat cockpits for the newest mobile suits?" Kou asked, apparently unable to stay on topic due to his earlier surprise.
-
Hyaku Shiki, Argama Squadron - 2 Hours Earlier
Quattro smiled as he got out of the seat, "Hop in and give her a try."
"Really?" Racetrack asked. She admitted it, the curiosity was killing her, just how did someone pilot these things?
Quattro nodded. Racetrack sat down in the seat, trying to make herself comfortable.
She immediately took note of the near 360 degree array of monitors, spaced around the cockpit.
Tactical awareness was clearly a top priority for these people.
Smart thinking, but apparently no external viewports if the systems crash, Racetrack thought.
Sometimes, the good old Mark 1 eyeball was simply the best option.
"Now," Quattro said with his arm over hers. "Push the right lever forward while easing up on the left."
The mobile suit did a perfect 180 in a split-second, ending up facing the opposite direction.
"Good. Now, ease up on the throttle. Lt. Appoly, launch the targeting dummies." Quattro ordered, as a group of MS-shaped balloons where launched from the Argama. After a certain distance, they self-inflated, increasing in size to a full mobile suit, providing the perfect targets.
"Now, move us in the general direction of the target and wait for it," Quattro stated, as a target cursor moved across the display until it overlaid the target and glowed red. "Press the trigger... now!"
-
Anaheim Electonics: R & D - Present Time
"Yeah, Lt. Quatro personally showed me his Hyaku Shiki. Frak, I still can't believe manuverable it was, given its size! Kind of slow, though. It really needs a faster STL," Racetrack critiqued.
"STL?" The question came from Keith.
"A.K.A. slower-than-light drive," Racetrack replied, "These MS's must be really short-ranged. Vipers and Raptors can cover a much larger distance in the same time, with less fuel usage."
"Well, we're planning on upgrading the G-force balancers. They'll be based on the Raptor's design, so they won't be optimal. Still, our mobile suits will definitely have increased acceleration and maneuverability, so it sort of works out," Keith commented.
Seeing the tired eyes of the lieutenant, Keith made a decision.
"Hey, why don't we go to the lounge? Break time sounds real good, right about now..."
Silent agreement passed between the three, as they started making their way towards the lounge.
Conversation continued, regardless.
"That beam weaponry you guys use; that's just plain scary. I'd hate to see what an ace pilot can do with those suckers," Racetrack said.
"Speaking of aces... I've heard HE's going to be part of the force," commented Keith.
"Him? You mean it?" asked Kou.
"Yep, Lieutenant Amuro Ray himself, THE top ace, backslash hero of the One Year War," Keith agreed.
"War hero, big deal," Racetrack said, shrugging, "The type can be overrated."
Kou started laughing, not rudely.
"What's so funny?" Racetrack inquired, surprised at the reaction.
"Yeah, that may be true, the whole overrated hero bit, but believe me, Amuro Ray's the real deal," Kou had managed to stop laughing, and now was merely smirking, although again, not rudely.
"Lt. Amuro's a Newtype, from what I hear that other pilot who's with him, Kamille Bidan, wasn't it? He might be one, too." Kou said.
"Newtype?" Racetrack asked. That term didn't come up in any conversations earlier, as far as she recalled.
"Put it this way, I'm technically an ace pilot, but I don't think I'm anywhere near their level of skill!" Kou sighed.
"Okay... seriously, what's a Newtype?" Racetrack was getting annoyed. Still, she was curious.
The explanation she got was not what she expected, for certain.
Kou had a expression of grim concentration on his face, as he recalled what little information, mainly rumors and propagandas, spread by the Zeon and ridiculed by the Titans, had regarding the Newtype phenomena.
"A Newtype is supposed to be what happens when humans adapt to living in space. Individuals gain a sort of sixth sense, able to perceive things beyond the normal senses, you know, sight, hearing, touch, and so on."
"But also, they're practically demons on the battlefield. I heard that Amuro Ray took out nine Rick Dom's within a few minutes. Most, if not all of them were also aces. You can imagine what he could do to inexperienced grunt pilots."
By this point, Kou had a look of both awe and fear in his eyes.
"The people who observed the fight, said that it was as if he knew where everyone and everything was in the battlefield, at all times. He decimated the suits so quickly, that very few survivors even had the time to react." Kou said.
"He was piloting one of those really high end MS's... a Gundam, right?" Racetrack asked.
She'd gotten a brief history on the On Year war, as lots of people abbreviated that war, as well as the mobile suit that had almost single-handedly held off the Zeon until the Federation could mass-produce their own variant (the GM, if she remembered correctly) from Nina. Whom had turned out to be a big fan of Amuro Ray, and the Gundam in particular.
Rumor had it that Nina had several posters of the original Gundam in her office.
Thinking back on Kou's description of Amuro Ray's combat prowess, it sounded quite a bit like Starbuck's piloting style, now that she thought about it...
"Yeah, the original RX-78-2, though it's pretty much old and outdated, by now. Then again, I heard the Titans made a MKII version, which the AEUG got their hands on, and right now, the AEUG and some people here at Anaheim are finalizing another one, code-named Project Zeta." Keith continued, in Kou's place.
"Nina was recalled here to revive the GP-unit project. Hell, we're supposedly even getting help from Axis forces, of all people. You two scared the shit out of us about the Cylons," Keith concluded.
After the long walk, the finally reached the lounge.
The door opened as they entered; it looked your typical lounge setup with chairs, food dispensers and a balcony with a decent view.
Only this particular view was a hell of a lot more than just decent.
The view practically mesmerized Racetrack. The multi-tiered, subterranean lunar city was massive, even by Colonial standards.
"Do you think I could be a Newtype?" asked Racetrack, after a few seconds of hesitation.
"...maybe. Rumor has it that all humans have the potential to become a Newtype. It just takes the proper stimuli," Kou said.
It occurred to Racetrack that Lt. Uraki didn't state what those stimuli were. She doubted it was due to lack of trust, but rather the fact that he really didn't know.
It just brought up even more questions, though Racetrack kept them to herself.
All three sat down on the comfortable sofa/bench on the patio facing central Von Braun City, basically a giant shaft in the crust, with multiple levels serving as individual sectors.
"...Damn, what I'd give to see Starbuck's face, when we arrive with an escort fleet, AND a way to Earth," Racetrack said. Her thoughts once again drifted towards the question of just how much help she'd be coming with...
"Wait... Starbuck? Someone you know got named after a coffee brand?" Kou asked, downright puzzled. Keith had a similar expression on his face.
"Coffee brand? What are you talking about? Starbuck is the callsign of Captain Kara Thrace, one of our Viper pilots," Racetrack replied, now even more confused than ever.
"You're kidding?" asked Keith who'd been quiet up to this point, "You're not kidding?"
Racetrack shook her head, no.
"Okay then, I'll get us something to drink. Be right back," Keith then left for several minutes.
Racetrack remained confused about the whole deal, until Keith came back with three medium sized cups. He handed one to her, and another to Kou.
"Mocha for the lovely lady, vanilla for Kou, and plain for me." Keith said "Okay then, now does anyone want... lessee, Rice Crispies bars, or a muffin while I'm still up?"
Unrestrained laughter echoed across the hall, as Racetrack read the writing on the coffee cup.
"Starbucks' Coffee. I don't believe this," Racetrack said, still laughing, "Oh, I've gotta show this to Skulls... unless Roy's found out already."
Taking a brief sip, she approved.
"...it's pretty good. Gods, I'll be having so much fun with this. Although, Thrace will be cursing her callsign if and when someone puts a Starbucks on the Galactica."
"...Gods?" Kou asked, once more taken off guard.
I've really got to stop overreacting to these things... then again, maybe it's appropriate in this case, he thought.
Although the topic made her a bit uncomfortable, given the honest surprise in Lt. Uraki's voice, Racetrack decided to expand on her comment.
"I already had this discussion with a few others. In the Colonies we follow a polytheistic system with a whole pantheon, instead of the single God your people seem to prefer."
"Frankly, it's just amazing that our gods are even part of your world's mythology. Zeus, Hera, Athena, among others," Racetrack said. That was a massive understatement, if there ever was any.
And it still brought back reminders of the Cylons' belief in a single God... all of this was too much of a coincidence. Maybe there wasn't any, she reflected.
It was something she'd have to bring up with the Admiral and the President, she was damned sure of that.
"So, where were you born?" asked Keith, changing the topic to something a little less uncomfortable, for all three of them.
"Caprica," Racetrack said, somewhat grateful for another topic, for the reason that Keith thought of (though she didn't know that), as well as other darker thoughts...
"Really? I'm a Capricorn, myself," Kou said, mulling over the implications of what Margaret (who seemingly preferred to be referred to by her call sign) said, would mean, socially, politically, and possibly even scientifically, given the far too many similarities with parts of Earth history.
"You still use the symbols of the Twelve Colonies?" an astonished Racetrack asked. From her earlier conversation, it seemed as though any Colonial cultural references were considered little more than historical footnotes.
"In a way, it depends on what month we were born in. I was born in January, hence I'm a Capricorn, Keith here is a Libra," Kou said.
"Add to that, people look up their horoscopes, a sort of prediction, on their birth signs. For most people, it's a just a form of entertainment, but there are some people that really believe in them."
"...Well, that's frakking cool, more stuff we have in common," Racetrack said, all the while chalking up another disturbing similarity, that was only slightly different from her own culture.
"Frak? You've used that term several times now," Kou said, remembering an old 21st century science fiction series.
"Is that a cousin to frell?" Kou asked, slightly jokingly, hoping his guess wasn't dead wrong...
"You know, frak. As in, frak you, frak off; You frak when you have sex." Racetrack crassly explained, without any embarassment.
"Got it, right..." Kou said. To their credit, he and Keith barely blushed themselves. His guess was right on the money.
"We're supposed to be leaving in a few days, tops. But man, I'm gonna miss this place. That brief visit to that colony, that was damn fun. I couldn't believe how realistic the environment was. It's even more realistic then our own Cloud Nine," Racetrack said, recalling the very few stops she had there, given how busy the Fleet's pilots were, most of the time.
"Oh, they're real, in a way. The O'Neill cylinders were designed to be minature planets. They generate their own gravity, electricity, fully recycle their water, and so on. They're amazing, in hindsight," Keith replied.
It was true, living in an era where such constructs were so common, it made you forget the perspective of someone who'd never seen anything like them.
"In fact, I believe the AEUG is planning on offering one of them to your fleet, for the civilians to settle in," Keith said.
"Is one going to be enough?" Racetrack asked, "Forty-nine thousand survivors is a lot of people."
Overcrowding had been near the top of the Fleet's concerns, when fuel and water weren't an issue, though it was one problem that could never really be remedied.
"O'Neill-type colonies can handle ten million, if necessary. Now that I think about it, our population density is pretty low, given the number of colonies we built," Kou said.
"...frak me," was the only reply she could come up with.
Wisely, both Kou and Keith didn't comment on that, settling for restrained chuckles instead.
"Seriously though, we're sixteen billion and still going strong, the human race is far from finished. If and when your people are safe and secure, we're gonna make sure that nothing like that happens, ever again," Kou said, with a determined gaze.
-
Colonial One - Post-Caprica Rescue Operation, 1 Week Later
President Laura Roslin stared out at the stars. The election had gone well. She was re-elected with a landslide victory.
Doctor (And former Vice-President) Gaius Baltar had laid out the plans to jump to a location, called the "Lion's Head Nebula" to obtain a clue as to the location of Earth.
The Fleet would be holding memorial services for the Raptor crews lost-in-action during the rescue operations on Caprica, before all vessels jumped out of their current star system.
Another Raptor was already prepped and ready to jump to the location. She made one last prayer to the Lords of Kobol for better times, just as a bright light outside her window woke her out of her trance, sending her into a brief state of shock.
"Tory, what the frak was that?" Roslin yelled, angry more with herself than with her aide, for being shocked so easily.
"Fireworks," Tory explained "There's a celebration on Cloud Nine, but it's also a send-off to the dead."