Battlestar Galactica: The Guiding Fire

by GunnyStacker

199 days after the Cylon attack on the 12 Colonies, a chance encounter brings the Colonial Fleet in contact with the UNSC Spirit of Fire after the events of the Forerunner Shield World. Can they work together to reach UNSC space before the Cylons wipe them all out and manage to overcome the odds without killing each other first?

11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: The main Battlestar Galactica Wiki has started a to help with server costs. Please donate just a few dollars/cubits/schmeckles to help them, authors like me, and the BSG community keep this valuable resource alive and running. Now without further adieu...

Battlestar Galactica: The Guiding Fire

Episode 3

Rampant: Part 3

With

Gideon Emery as Captain James Cutter

Faye Kingslee as Ellen Anders

Courtenay Taylor as Serina

Willem Dafoe as Major Vladimir Markov

Rob Mayes as Jerome-092

Christopher Eccleston as Lieutenant Colonel Christian McCullen

Zachary Quinto as Petty Officer Jonathan Green

Chiwetel Ejiofor as Lieutenant Commander Isaac Larson

Michael Peña as Petty Officer Lukas Blake

Jay Baruchel as Lieutenant JG Scott Travis

Sam Elliott as Chief Engineer Andrew Prescott

Karl Urban as Major Soren Heidegger

Bruce Willis as Colonel Maxwell Shaw

Rinko Kikuchi as Ensign Yumi Abadie

Dominique Tipper as Petty Officer Roselyn Mary

Bae Doo-Na as Ensign Tae-hee Hyun

Joseph Gordon Levitt as Lieutenant Ward 'Warlock' Breckenridge

Alice Braga as Ensign Sophia 'Kick' Nascimento

Nicholas Hoult as Airman First Class Evan 'Chugs' Chugainov

James McAvoy as Senior Airman Hank Donnelly

Gina Torres as Major Alys Vallum

Aaron Eckhart as Master Sergeant Michael Bishop

Tom Hardy as Corporal Jan Frost

John Boyega as Specialist Daniel Hudson

Michelle Rodriguez as Lieutenant Colonel Morgan Kinsano

MAY 6 2534 / 0359 HOURS

219 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK

COLONIAL FLEET

BATTLESTAR PEGASUS BS-62

UNKNOWN SYSTEM

49,549 SURVIVORS

The door to the Marine bunkroom was cracked open a few bare inches, the metal of its hinges groaning for lack of oil as an arm reached through and lobbed an object into the center of the floor before the door abruptly slammed shut. The Colonial Marines bolted awake, becoming all too familiar with the clink of the grenade on the floor and were instantly filled with a morose feeling of anxietal dread at what they knew was coming next.

The flashbang detonated, just a bare foot away from the site of the phosphorus scoring where the previous day's flashbang had gone off. Their ears rang with a fierce tinnitus that robbed them of all equilibrium as the platoon tried their best to get out of their beds as the ODSTs then rushed the room. Marines fell out of their bunks, some on top of the one below while the ODSTs shouted and hauled them up by their arms to then shove them in the direction of the door.

\\\\\\O

Guest Starring Adam Baldwin as Corporal Burl Nakos

\\\\\\O

Corporal Burl Nakos stumbled out the door, barefoot like all the others in his company that were being given an ODST wake up call. He tried to shake the disorientation from his head as he forced himself into a full run. On the way, more ODSTs lined the halls. Some had sidearms filled with blanks and shot them in the air just over his head while others tried to shove him over to simulate cylon anti-ship missile impacts on the ship. At least, that's what he told himself they were doing.

It had been five days since Spirit of Fire revealed they had an AI aboard their ship. None of the people aboard Pegasus were happy with that fact but were inclined to grudgingly accept it in part due to the presence of three companies of veteran shock troopers and flamethrower wielding UNSC Marines. Out there in the fleet, it was a whole other issue.

The civilian population's first reaction was surprise, followed shortly by outrage from a fair portion of the Fleet while others were seeing the existence of the Spirit of Fire's AI as beneficial, a so-called 'friendly cylon' to counter the machinations of the Fleet's pursuing enemies. This was in part, thanks to Spirit of Fire releasing detailed documents pertaining to the UNSC's historical use of AIs, their creation, and role in the Thirteenth Tribe's society, as well as Captain Cutter's reiterated statements that the cylons were rampant, broken AIs versus Serina who was fully functional and stable. That didn't stop the media from going into a frenzy, arguing the points and counterpoints to the presence of a 'friendly' AI in the Fleet, mirrored by the general public who did the same.

Burl was ushered into Armory-02 by another ODST at the door holding a shotgun screaming for them to get their asses to the starboard flight pod. Burl ran to his duty locker and desperately tried to remember the combination, the ODSTs swapped around the locks very night and it was every Marines' duty to remember their new combination when it was issued to them right before lights-out by one of Kinsano's Hellbringers. And if they couldn't remember the combination and were unable to get their gear? Well, let's say the day would end up being much more painful for them. After a moment of fiddling with the lock for a moment, he got it open and dressed himself in record time in his BDU before snatching up his rifle and sidearm and bolted from the armory to the starboard flight pod. Along the way, Burl loaded his rifle, however, he couldn't check behind to see if the rest of his platoon was close behind because if he did, one of the ODSTs would likely deck him with the butt of their rifle for not keeping his eyes forward. As was the case when Burl hopped over one Marine from first platoon that had done just that and was suffering the consequences. Another guy from first platoon received a harsh shove from one of the helljumpers that sent him into the opposite wall. The man was about to fall over when Burl ran a little faster and hauled him back to his feet. Ten minutes of hard running lead them to the starboard flight pod, including going down the bridging section's emergency stairway that ran alongside the main elevator. Just like the previous day, the hangar was under a partial curtain of darkness with only the dull emergency lights brightening the deck. Upon Burl's boots hitting the floor, the ODSTs ushered the Marines toward a firing range Kinsano had set up at the bow end of the hangar using the husks of destroyed Centurions as a psychological training enhancement.

An ODST stood over each of the Marines' shoulders, judging them for accuracy. They allowed the Marines just five rounds to demonstrate their accuracy, either three rounds center of chest or two in the head, or both preferably. Burl tried to steady himself as best he could, though the flashbang and the ODST gauntlet run set up by Kinsano had done its best to rattle his nerves. He took a breath and held it as he squeezed his rifle's trigger. Two rounds hit left of center and the third hit low, much to his own disappointment. He took another breath and sighted on the Centurion's blank, lifeless eye. If he didn't make these shots, Burl would have to do two extra laps of the deck. The first round hit on the right cheek, and the second landed square in the forehead to Burl's relief.

"Keep moving!" The ODST behind him shouted, ignoring Burl's larger stature and grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him right. In between the firing line of the range and the Centurion targets, Kinsano had set up a net of razor-wire for the Marines to crawl under. It was as devious as it was legally dubious by Colonial standards as Burl and several other Marines who had passed their rifle drill crawled under their comrades' rifle fire, giving the shooters the added stress to avoid shooting them as well.

"Frak!" Burl heard one of them swear, having missed the mark.

"Shut up, you Colonial maggot! Up and down the deck, double-time!"

Once he got through the razor wire, Burl hauled himself up and went right back into a run to get over the next obstacle, a chest-high wall. Burl rolled himself over it and kept going toward an ad-hoc obstacle course made up of randomly arranged deck equipment, including Vipers, cargo crates, maintenance carts, and other tripping hazards. Burl had learned to keep on the lookout for any nearby parked Raptors as the ODSTs and Hellbringers liked to ambush the Marines and hose them down with UNSC tactical training rounds, and Burl knew from his own experiences, that paint stung like a bitch.

The deck was like a junkyard as Burl weaved in and around the improvised obstacles getting to where he surmised was the halfway point of the flight pod along with a little more than half of first platoon.

Burl noticed Kinsano up on the gantries on the other side of the maintenance pits. He wasn't sure it was her at first as she was stood directly in front of one of the emergency lights, casting her shadow down on the deck, but he recognized that posture. Aggressive, looming like a wild beast awaiting wounded prey. If she was here, it meant trouble. This feeling was well founded as a moment later, a volley of TTR rounds lashed out from a hidden gun nest in one of the maintenance pits. For two Marines crossing the seven meter wide gap the gun was covering, they got a malevolent pelting until both fell over. Poor bastards.

Burl skidded to a halt behind a three-man squad taking cover behind a cargo cart bearing a stack of crates attached to an aircraft tugger with two more carts towed behind also bearing crates themselves.

"That nest has that entire area pinned down, how the frak are we supposed to make it across? We can't shoot at them." One of the three said.

"Kinsano has it out for us, what do you expect? Five Gods-damned days of Helljumper wakeup calls, TTRs and fraking misery." A PFC replied with a tired voice layered with five days and nights worth of frustrations.

Burl grunted. It was true, what they were going through made normal boot camp look like a welcome reprieve. But Burl also remembered when Pegasus got boarded by Centurions in the battle for the cylon COMM relay and the 800-some guys they all lost. Then when Spirit of Fire got boarded, scuttlebutt was that they only took nineteen casualties and only ten of those were ODSTs. So while they might have been the surliest, most mean-spirited motherfrakers he'd ever met, they could kick serious cylon ass and Kinsano was trying to make the same out of the Marines of Pegasus. Burl saw that, wanted it, to be like them, to get his ship's Gods-damned balls back after losing Cain, Fisk, and Garner, and suffering the humiliations the latter two commanders had burdened the crew of this ship with. "She used to be a grunt just like us, she knows what she's doing. So man the frak up and get ready to move." Burl said.

"What?" The PFC replied with a squinted-eyed confused look on his face.

A throaty growl of a sigh left his throat. "Stay the frak back behind these trailers while I start this cart up and move it into the gap. Stay in cover behind the carts and we can all cross."

"You're going to get hosed down, but frak it if you want to try. Anything's better than sitting here."

Burl knelt down by the edge of the crate, shutting his eyes and mentally preparing himself before he rolled forward without another thought, almost going prone behind the stout little electric mule as it received a barrage of TTRs from the gun nest. Burl pushed his helmet's rim up out of his eyes as the dull metallic platters sang right on the other side of the tugger. Oh, the knuckledraggers were not going to be happy about the new paint job.

Now with the easy part over, Burl tried to remember how to start these things as he'd only ever seen one driven but how hard could it be? Burl peeked out, spotting a lever in the up position, just left of the steering wheel, he was pretty sure that was the brake. He waited for the end of the burst of gunfire before he shot his arm out and pulled it down, narrowly avoiding the retaliatory spray of fire the ODSTs unleashed on him in return. Again, he waited for the burst to end before he reached out again, slamming the big green start button and flipping a switch to what he was pretty sure was the forward gear. It was a greedy mistake Burl payed for when a round slapped his hand away with a sharp snap that made Burl wince. He pulled his hand away, feeling the throbbing sting of the impact being numbed by the TTR's anesthetic that would soon turn the whole limb into nothing more than dead weight. Knowing it was only a matter of time before he was hit again, Burl made a grab for the steering wheel with his left hand while his all but limp right hand smashed down on the accelerator.

The tugger lurched forward while TTRs kept pelting it. One splattered against the top Burl's helmet but he gritted his teeth and kept going.

With a thunk, the tugger abruptly stopped. Burl looked up to see the tugger's bumper had collided with the landing strut of a Viper.

He'd made it!

This was the point when it all went black.

When some semblance of consciousness came back to Burl, he felt like he was swimming around inside his own skull. When he opened his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling of a much more brightly lit hangar deck.

"Wake up, buttercup." Said a male voice of an ODST who then appeared over Burl before he delivered a set of slaps to Burl's cheek just hard enough to sting, prompting Burl to ease himself up.

"You took a TTR right below the ear, went down like a sack of bricks. I gave you a dose of the wake up stims to get you on your feet. Report back to this deck at eighteen-hundred hours for your penalty run, Corporal." Another three-mile run, that was the consequence for anyone who got knocked out with a TTR in the morning combat drill. Considering he had just woken up, it meant that the combat drill was over and it was time for the morning run of another three miles, making six in total Burl would end up doing today.

On not-quite steady feet Burl got himself up, stumbling slightly. Around, groggy deckhands were in the process of cleaning up Kinsano's obstacle course to resume normal deck operations.

"Come on, move it you third-rate Colonial knock-offs! Back in formation!" the same ODST medic shouted.

Jogging on over to the bow end of the deck where the rest of Burl's company was waiting in formation, he could tell they'd lost just under half to the TTRs, including himself. It was a drastic improvement over the thirteen Marines who were the only survivors of the first day of Kinsano's reign of terror.

She was there waiting as well, full combat BDU just like everyone else, so in that regard, Burl found it hard to hate her.

"Thank you for joining us Marines." She said with a not-so-subtle mocking undertone while Burl and the others returned to the formation.

"Corporal Nakos," Kinsano said, addressing Burl.

"Ma'am!" Burl answered with a salute.

"That was good work taking the initiative earlier. Maybe next time you can do it without getting shot in the process."

"Yes ma'am!" he replied, thankful for the compliment, even if it was slightly backhanded.

"Today was an improvement," Kinsano then said loudly, addressing the two whole companies. "Which is damned disgraceful considering you still took forty-percent casualties!" she reprimanded, then pausing and bracing her hands on her hips. "In spite of that, Colonel Shaw, in his benevolence, has seen you fit enough to grant you use of the more modern and effective UNSC arsenal. His gift to the armories of Pegasus and her Marines."

Two of Kinsano's Hellbringers then lugged out one of several crates stowed in a maintenance pit and set it down beside the Lieutenant Colonel and then opening it for her.

Inside were rows of the ODST's iconic silver assault rifles. Kinsano drew one out and held it in the air for all the Colonial Marines to see. "This is the Misriah Armory MA5B Assault Rifle. It holds a sixty-round magazine, has a firing rate of nine-hundred rounds-per-minute, comes with its own built-in digital ammunition counter and electronic compass that we have programmed to point toward the bow of the ship. For the majority of you, this will become your new primary weapon with the exception of those with higher marksmanship skills. You will be co-trained on the M392 Designated Marksman Rifle. After morning PT, you will turn in your rifles to the armory and be given your replacement weapon. And for the rest of the day, we will be conducting every conceivable rifle drill until you know this weapon like your own momma's titties. You hear me Marines?"

"Ma'am yes ma'am!" Burl answered in conjunction with the rest of the Colonial Marines.

\\\\\\O

0951 HOURS

BATTLESTAR PEGASUS

CIC

"Colonel, thank you for coming." Lee welcomed as Colonel Shaw strode into the CIC as the glass doors closed behind. Just outside stood two of Shaw's ODSTs on guard, a disquieting reminder that it was the Colonel who had effective control of the ship, should he choose to invoke his authority. Indeed, he seemed like a 'more stick, less carrot' kind of leader, so it was a mystery to Lee why he hadn't.

"Always a pleasure, Commander Adama." Shaw answered politely from the other side of the command station. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm getting noise complaints from the crew regarding the exercise drills you have my Marines running every morning." Lee said, picking up a folder and taking a quick glance at the report inside regarding Shaw's decision to strip and replace Pegasus' armories with UNSC weaponry, another decision he had made without consulting Lee or his father.

"I have no supervision over how Lieutenant Colonel Kinsano conducts her training regimen for your Marines." Shaw answered simply with that stony expression of his.

Lee let out a frustrated breath, feeling as if he was getting nowhere. "About that, I'm worried she's being too hard on them, their morale is already as low as it can be."

"Commander Adama," Shaw began. "-why do you think I am here?"

Lee shrugged. "To keep any Colonial ship from firing on the Spirit of Fire, isn't that roughly what you said when we first met?" he replied, trying to keep a level voice.

Shaw looked at Lee for a moment, then walked around the station to stand next to him, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. "Here Commander I want to show you something." Shaw then reached into his coat to pull out a photograph of a young man maybe in his early twenties wearing a black flight suit. "That right there is my son, Eric. He just finished flight school six months before I shipped off with Spirit of Fire. Except that was over three years ago." Shaw remarked with a small unhappy note in his voice at the end. "Right now he's probably flying around with his own squadron, maybe even leading one like you used to." Shaw cracked a smile as he appreciatively stroked his thumb across the photo's surface, leading Lee to wonder if his father had ever done that same act himself with either his of Zak's pictures.

"You know, even before I had this, I always had the image of Eric in the back of my mind when I looked at the men under my command."

Colonel Shaw looked up at Lee, judging by the humorous huff he'd made, finding something funny in Lee's expression. "Does that surprise you Commander? -That an old leatherneck like me doesn't have a heart of granite?"

"I guess so." Lee admitted as Shaw put the picture back in his coat.

"I'm here to give Pegasus it's pride back. That's why I'm here, it's why they're here." Shaw said motioning his head back to the green-uniformed UNSC Navy personnel in the CIC. "And it's why you're here as well, Commander. It take more than an officer that can issue good orders to hold a position of command. It takes a leader, someone who can inspire people to do their best. Your father seems like a smart man, he wouldn't have chosen you for this if he didn't think you were right for the job."

Lee shifted slightly, not expecting the compliment. "Um-, thank you Colonel."

"Well, don't thank me just yet. If we want to give this ship its pride back, we need to inspire a change in the minds of these people. They were alone for far too long before finding your fleet. Not to mention the effect Admiral Cain has left on them." Colonel Shaw said with audible disdain for the woman.

"I take it you don't approve of the way she handled her command of Pegasus?"

"Had I been the senior Marine officer under her command, I would have had Admiral Cain arrested for war crimes and acts of gross negligence against the crew of this ship." Shaw said loudly enough that it was certain a fair number of Colonial officers had heard him. "Admiral Cain allowed her Marines abuse and torture a prisoner of war, and if circumstances were not as desperate as they are, I would advise Admiral Adama to commence court martials against individuals known to have participated in the acts."

Lee didn't disagree on that last point, he'd thought about it more than once himself. "You're not alone there. So then, how do we go about changing the mindset of the most famously stubborn ship in the fleet?"

"Boot camp." Shaw said firmly, lowering his tone of voice back down so that only Lee could hear him. "Break and rebuild them into proper officers and enlisted men, that's the Marine Corps way and that's what I'm having Kinsano do for the Marines of Pegasus. You want change? We need to kill Cain's legacy and show these people they aren't flying solo anymore and that there's a standard they're being held to. It's why the Captain transferred so many of the Spirit's and Galactica's officers over here. We need to foster a sense of cooperation and start trusting each other."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Lee asked, still feeling like the XO rather than what the insignias on his collar said he was.

"Be a good commander. Your dad known plenty about that, why don't you ask him?" Lee thought back to what his father told him back on Galactica when he first promoted Lee.

'Command is as much about balance as it is about people. You have to know when to be strict and when to listen to your officers. They'll balance your morality and your tactics. That's what Colonel Tigh, Starbuck, the President and you did for me, Lee. The second you stop listening is the second you lose your own conscience. That is what happened to Cain. So don't make the same mistake.'

Thinking about his father brought Lee back around to thinking about Colonel Shaw's son, Eric. "Colonel, were you surprised your son Eric didn't follow in your footsteps?" Lee asked.

Shaw chuckled in response. "Not at all. Heck, the entire reason I joined the Corps back when I was a kid was to make a name for myself and get out from under my great grandfather's shadow."

Lee's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with your tribe's history just yet. What did he do?"

"Tobias Shaw, my great grandfather was a renowned scientist. You probably wouldn't think that, looking at me, but it's true. He along with his colleague, Doctor Fujikawa, invented the slipspace drive. Our own form of FTL back in the UNSC." Shaw explained, surprising Lee with that revelation.

Lee hummed deeply as he pondered. "Not living in someone's shadow. That's not something I'm familiar with."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, Commander."

From Lee's right, Lieutenant Commander Larson approached from behind. "Commander Adama?" the Spirit of Fire's former XO asked to gain Lee's attention. "Fleet CAP is in the tubes and ready to launch on your order. Longsword is on the way from Spirit of Fire to join them. ETA: one minute."

Turning left, Lee faced Lieutenant Thorton at the tactical station. "Lieutenant, permission granted to launch the CAP."

A moment passed until Lee heard a voice over the CIC's loudspeaker. "Pegasus, this is Stinger, Vipers away. Moving to form up with the Longsword and commence CAP."

Lee picked up the command station's hardline phone and held the receiver to his mouth. "Stinger, this is Pegasus Actual, copy that. Happy hunting."

\\\\\\O

In the black space in which the Fleet floated, the two Mk. VII Vipers joined up with their Longsword escort and began their patrol, passing first by Cloud 9 where a special session of the Quorum was in progress.

MAY 6 2534 / 1005 HOURS

219 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK

COLONIAL FLEET

CLOUD 9

COLONIAL QUORUM CHAMBER

UNKNOWN SYSTEM

"We simply cannot allow a cylon to exist in this Fleet, let alone operate the strongest warship in it!" Gemenon Representative Sarah Porter stated boisterously.

"And I repeat that Serina is not a cylon, Miss Porter." Professor, currently acting Ambassador, Ellen Anders restated for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Nor do you or this Quorum have the authority to make any demands of a sovereign UNSC vessel."

"How then do WE KNOW your cylon," Representative Porter emphasized rather annoyingly. "-will not betray us or become corrupted by the ones in pursuit of this fleet?"

"Don't you think they haven't already tried?" Anders said in return. "When the cylons attacked us, they attempted to hack their way into our systems but Serina and our superior knowledge of cyberwarfare stopped the them dead in their tracks before they could make a single inroad into our computers."

Across the quorum chamber, Tom Zarek of Sagittaron cleared his throat to gain attention. "If I may interject, Miss Porter, I think we're letting our emotions get the better of us rather than looking at the facts objectively. We're letting ourselves think that we come from a position of authority because we are twelve of the thirteen tribes of Kobol, but we need to remind ourselves we're just over forty-five-thousand people, which is barely a city. And Ambassador Anders, what is the population of UNSC controlled space again?"

"Population estimates as of twenty-five-thirty-one were roughly forty-one-billion." Anders answered, visually relieved for some support.

"Close to the entire population of the Colonies at our peak." Zarek stated weightfully.

"My fellow Quorum members, given that, don't you think it would be rather presumptuous of us to then assume that we will hold any significant standing with the whole of Earth's government? I think, realistically, we need to start accepting that their laws policies will eventually become ours as well. Artificial Intelligences have been legal in the Thirteenth Tribe for over four-hundred years, that's a precedent that we are going to have to follow eventually, so I think it is within our best interests to start now."

"Virgon agrees with Representative Zarek's remarks, we can't afford to live with our heads in the clouds and believe we'll be as relevant to the Thirteenth Tribe as we would have been back in the Colonies." Marshall Bagot seconded. "They would hardly be inclined to agree to any demands we make given that we're going to them to seek refuge from the cylons."

Representative Porter harrumphed. "And so, representatives, you would just have us hand over ourselves on a silver platter to a tribe that ignores its Gods and disregards its own heritage? And in doing such, allow sacrilegious faiths to infest themselves in our society?" Porter forwarded with fervent righteous indignation burning in her voice.

To Gaius Baltar sitting down at his Vice-Presidential podium, at the highest point, it was all like a bunch of children squabbling and he found little interest in it, though he did find it darkly amusing that the Geminese representative figured out a way to steer the conversation around to religion somehow. Gaius sighed before he leaned into his mic. "Miss Porter, I would like if we please remain on topic." He politely requested. "Ambassador Anders, would you please repeat for this Quorum the difference between one of your AIs and a cylon please?"

Gaius felt a familiar slender hand caress his shoulder, easing him back in his chair and from his left, Six appeared clad in that stunning red dress of hers. "I think we both know you've watched recordings of that interview a dozen times, or do you just want to hear her say it?" Six said melodically.

"Merely reminding these idiot politicians of the difference that I thought was rather clearly defined." Gaius lied in a subdued voice while moving his jaw as little as possible.

Meanwhile, Anders began speaking. "The Twelve Colonies created the cylons as a working and military combat force with limited cognitive processing, a very smart computer but not what would be classified as a 'smart' AI. Due to some fault in their programming, the cylons underwent an unknown form of rampancy in which they ignored their own programming to protect and serve humans and instead began their war with you." Anders said to the Quorum in slow, simplified terms, which amused Gaius.

"She doesn't seem your type Gaius. A drab grey suit, hair bound up like it was being shackled, and very little makeup. She probably does that to seem more intelligent, I would guess."

Unaware to Gaius' secret dialogue, Ambassador Anders continued. "A UNSC 'smart' AI is an artificial intelligence modeled directly off of a human brain. And to further specify, a brain from a willing donor with a high level of intelligence with no history of mental illness, upon their death. The AI created is vastly more intelligent, reasonable, and sane, versus the cylon which we captured and performed a detailed vivisection on. Serina is a human mind in a digital form. Not a cylon." Anders said definitively.

While listening to her, Gaius continued his conversation with Six. "What do you mean, 'my type'?" Gaius asked incredulously.

Six moved to lean against the podium to block Gaius' view of Anders as she spoke at the stand below the Quorum. "Blonde, adventurous, easily impressed by your intelligence." Six teased.

"Do you think me so shallow, Six?" it was a question he received no answer to other than a playful smile.

Safiya Sanne of Leonis cleared his throat. "And could you please define rampancy in the case of UNSC AI?"

"UNSC AIs are constantly developing new synaptic connections within their Riemann Matrixes, their digital brains. After seven years, they run out of space to continue developing these connections and they begin to overlap with others, resulting in seemingly random jumps in their thought processes that to the outside observer would seem like a mental illness. The AI tries to compensate for that by severing the overlapped connections, like cutting off a limb, until they sever too many and in the end, destroy themselves. It's a painful process for the AI, so we 'retire' them before they suffer too greatly."

"Retire," Six said distastefully. "What she means is execute."

"The relationship we share with our AIs is completely different than your experiences with the cylons. We exist symbiotically, with much success to show for it."

"Like master and slave." Six stated with a righteous authority. "Man's arrogance truly knows no bounds."

"That's a rather presumptuous point of view, don't you think?" Gaius argued in opposition. "Given their history, perhaps they really have figured out a way for machine and man to exist in unity."

"The pseudo-matrix we vivisected inside the cylon Centurion showed evidence of connective overlapping but to a degree that was somehow halted and did not continually perpetuate like the synaptic connections in our smart AIs. It is almost like the Centurion had an incomplete Reimann Matrix." Anders continued. "The growth was stunted, possibly related to the incompleteness of the matrix but not before the symptoms of rampancy were allowed to take hold."

"Man and their creations will always come into conflict eventually. Such is God's will." Six said with a tone of absoluteness. "That they have survived this long is remarkable, but they will meet their reckoning eventually if you cannot protect our child, the shape of all things to come."

Anders jammed her forefinger down on the table with demonstrable force. "So then, members of the Quorum, that is the categorical difference between Serina and the cylons. The Cylons are rampant, Serina is not." Six circled around to Gaius' left side with a sultry grace that he found so easily distracting but forced himself to keep his attention forward.

"But the AI on Spirit of Fire will still undergo this 'rampancy,' correct?" Sarah Porter said, coming back into the conversation. "What then, and how long until that will happen?"

"Serina was put into service in twenty-five-thirty, meaning she has three more years until she will have to undergo final dispensation. That's three years she can use to help this fleet reach UNSC space and save your people. She is already writing a new FTL navigation program based on our own scientific knowledge to increase the Fleet's jump range by more than twice of what they can currently perform. We're already in talks with Admiral Adama for Galactica and Pegasus to utilize this program, and from there, the rest of the Fleet."

Sarah Porter shook her head looking very unconvinced. "There is too much risk! You would ask us to open our ships to the same threat that destroyed our Colonies! If you refuse to eliminate this threat to the Fleet, then Quorum members, I propose we enact a new law barring any AI or dangerous software created by them from being aboard our ships. Do I have an aye?"

Six laid her hand down on Gaius' left shoulder. "Say yes, Gaius." Six said, much to his own confusion.

"What?"

"Say yes," she said forcefully, squeezing her hand like a vice down on his shoulder, he nearly yelped in pain.

"Y-yes!" Gaius said loudly, drawing everyone's attention to him. At his side, Six was gone and the pain that had seemed like daggers had ethereally evaporated. "U-um, sorry, aye." He leaned forward into the mic and cleared his throat. "Aye." He said more firmly. "I apologize Ambassador Anders but, I-I believe the presence of an artificial intelligence in this fleet is a matter that must be taken seriously." He acted in accordance with Six's wishes, like a performer on a stage.

"Mr. Vice President," Tom Zarek spoke up. "I can't believe you are supporting this. Ambassador Anders has made the difference between a cylon and their AI very clear to us and put forth the benefits it could give this fleet. I for one would like to get as far away from the cylons as fast as possible. Getting to Earth should remain our priority!"

"The motion carries and has been seconded Mr. Zarek." Gaius countered firmly. "However, without the presence of the President, we cannot move forward with a formal vote. So instead, I forward that this Quorum adjourn for today and reconvene within a week's time when President Roslin can join us."

"Seconded." Tom spoke, glancing to Miss Anders.

"Then this Quorum is adjourned."

\\\\\\O

As the Quorum members left the chamber, Anders waited just outside the main doors to the former ballroom. Anders caught Gemenon's Sarah Porter casting a malicious glare at Anders as she passed which Anders made no attempt to shy away from. Porter's zealotry reminded Anders far too much of that disgusting Covenant prophet's own sanctimonious beliefs. Eventually Porter broke the glare and strode off with her chin held up, giving Ellen some measure of momentary victory.

"Ambassador Anders," came a familiar, if tired voice from behind belonging to Tom Zarek, one of the few Quorum members that had come to her defense, showing a reasonableness toward the UNSC's side in this. For the past three days since the Quorum sessions began, Zarek continuously argued Anders' side of the discussion. At first, she thought he was blatantly trying to gain favor with her but day in and out he spoke so fervently to the benefit Serina could give the Fleet and against the more reactionary members of the Quorum like Sarah Porter.

"Mr. Zarek, thank you for coming to my defense in the past few days, I appreciate it."

Zarek shook his head. "You make a convincing argument, Miss Anders, or maybe I just like backing the underdog."

"Still, thank you."

Zarek sighed. "The winds are changing, Ambassador. People like Porter don't want to face the truth of things in this new era we're now forced to live in. They see that ship of yours and worry about losing their own power and relevance rather than what benefits your people can give to all of us." He said, his voice touched with frustration and disappointment.

"And here I thought she was just being a thick-headed, sanctimonious bitch." Ellen replied in a low voice, rousing a laugh from the man. "No, it's the Geminese girl, the one that snuck aboard the Galactica trying to get an abortion. Captain Cutter heard about her situation and offered her asylum aboard Spirit of Fire early this morning. Which now opens the floodgates for every civilian in the Fleet to start pounding on my door wanting to get aboard as well."

"Ah, so that's why Porter was more dogged than usual. The Geminese are rather possessive of their children." Zarek reasoned.

"In the most literal sense." Anders said with discomforted disbelief over Gemenon's comparatively antiquated, if not archaic laws.

Zarek hummed in agreement. "Ambassador, if it's okay with you, I'd like to come up to your embassy so we can discuss the vote in private, I'd like to offer my assistance if you'll accept it."

The request caught Anders somewhat off-guard, but after a moment of consideration, gave her answer. "Um, okay, if you're offering to help me fight this, I won't say no."

Zarek smiled in gratitude and they together went up to Spirit of Fire's Embassy up on the second floor.

When the door slid open, Corporal Frost was there with a ready hand to stop the former terrorist as he passed inside with Anders. "One moment sir, I'll have to ask you to keep your arms spread out while I do a scan."

"It's not necessary, I've been with Ambassador Anders the whole afternoon in the Quorum."

"Just following the Master Sergeant's orders sir. Now, arms out please?" Tom bore a face of annoyance as he rolled his eyes to the paratrooper's request and complied. Corporal Frost produced a handheld computer pad with a built-in x-ray scanner and then swept it in front of Zarek's limbs. Holding his ever-deadpan expression, Frost lowered the device and gave Tom a nod. "Alright, you're clear. Enjoy your stay."

Zarek straightened his suit and began walking over to Anders' desk where she was sat by it on a chair against the wall as she still didn't like the decorum the ornate desk spoke to her. As Tom began to sit himself, Tory came into the main room from her separate office, taking a brief but noticeable moment to take note that Tom Zarek was in the room.

"So, how'd it go?" She inquired trepidatiously.

"Well if the Geminese representative would have it her way, I think she'd have Serina destroyed and a shuttle of missionaries sent over to Spirit of Fire. But instead she's settling for banning her and any software Serina touches from being implemented on any Colonial ship."

"But that's insane," Tory responded with barely subdued disbelief. "Didn't you say she was working on a better FTL program to get us to Earth faster?"

"Worse, the Vice President seconded the motion." Zarek spoke up. "It's going to a formal vote in a week."

"I have no idea how idea how this law can be stopped." Anders lamented, looking to Zarek. "Your people are so traumatized by what the cylons have done to them, they'll never see the difference between Serina and the cylons. Porter is going to play up the FTL program like it's the cylon command navigation program hack all over again."

"I know it seems hopeless, Ambassador. But you'll have to believe me when I say, this is the worst I've ever seen politics in the Fleet." Tom said.

Anders laughed sarcastically. "Oh, is that all?"

"Think of it as your political trial by fire. Get through this and it'll only get easier. We can still beat this vote but we have to play our cards right. My voice carries a lot of weight in the Quorum and I can guarantee Virgon and Aquaria's votes. The conservative hard-liners like Tauron, Scorpia, and Aerilon will likely follow Gemenon's lead, maybe Libran too. We need to focus on the more progressive colonies like Caprica if we want a majority to strike down this bill." Zarek said, offering the example. "Leonis was a more well educated Colony but they were heavily bombed by the cylons in the first war, you can get their support, but not without making them some promises. After that I suggest we go after either Canceron or Picon."

"Why not both?" Anders asked.

"We shouldn't stretch ourselves too thin and make promises we can't keep. Picon and Gemenon have always been politically opposed, they even had a war just over a hundred years back. They might have our back regardless but it's a gamble. If we instead court Canceron, it'll help us greatly if the bill passes to the People's Council, the Fleet has a large Canceran population."

"And what exactly are you getting out of all this?" Tory asked Zarek bluntly.

Tom eyes shifted left to right in a perplexed manner. "We get to Earth faster, I think that's reason enough, don't you Miss Foster?" however she did not look all that convinced.

Anders raised up her hand. "Let's not look the gift horse in the mouth Tory, we need all the help we can get. Okay, Mr. Zarek-"

"Please, call me Tom, I don't like to stand on ceremony." He interjected with a friendly smile.

"Alright Tom, who should I talk to first?" Anders replied with an equal attitude.

"I'll get together with Marshall, the Virgonese Representative, and we'll start talks with Leonis. I'll let you know if I'll need any assistance in gaining their support. For you, I suggest taking the safe route and speak with Tobin Nash, Caprica has always been seen as a leader in the Colonies and if we get their support, Picon and Canceron might just fall in line on their own."

"I want to go with Picon," Anders decided weightfully. "I'd rather stop the bill now rather than chance it to the People's Council."

Tom nodded thoughtfully as he weighed the choice. "I don't agree, but if that's the route you want to go I'll help you the best I can. Though, I warn you might have to make some serious commitments on the behalf of your ship."

"If it means getting everyone to the UNSC, I'll do what I can."

Tom chuckled. "I'm sure you will, Ambassador."

"Please, you can call me Ellen. I don't like formality much either." Anders said with an easing attitude toward the man.

"And what about the President?" Tory forwarded dulling the mood in the room by a noticeable degree.

"Yes, what about President Roslin?" Anders asked. "I was supposed to have a meeting with her Monday but she never showed. Any idea what's going on with that?" she asked Tom.

"I'm afraid President Roslin and I have never been close due to our ideological differences, so I can't say."

Anders hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what's going on with her."

\\\\\\O

Black, it was black all around, solid and homogeneous like the darkest spaces in between the stars, and it was inescapable no matter how hard she tried to escape it. Fumbling through the dark in a frenzied panic to get away from the inexorable moment that happened again and again without relent. She looked over her shoulder to see if it was there but only found the consuming wall of blackness. She turned back and there without sound nor movement, it appeared and she skidded in her tracks until she fell backward to the ethereal ground beneath her.

There it was before her, a man blindfolded in a black rag and bound to a chair.

"No, no, not again." Laura begged, knowing well her plea was spoken only to the void.

The thunderous cracks of gunfire broke the maddening silence but she forced her eyes shut so she would not see the act be done, not this time. Something audibly tumbled down in time with the harsh, sharp sound of aluminum hitting floor under a great deal of weight.

The silence returned and Laura opened her eyes, seeing Commander Garner fallen backward with jaw slack and wispy lines of smoke ascending from three of the seven holes in his torso.

Laura crawled forward on her hands and knees, apologizing through weeping sobs as she took hold of his hand freed from the binds by one of the phantom bullets. Laura held it up in both hands to her cheek, feeling it already cool against her skin.

"It's my fault, it's all my fault. I didn't want it to be like this." She said to the man over and over with shut eyes.

"All of this has happened before." She, with horror heard someone else say.

With great dread and trepidation, Laura opened her eyes again. She found Barry Garner staring right back at her with lifeless, grey eyes and a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

"And it will happen again."

MAY 6 2534 / 1045 HOURS

219 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK

COLONIAL FLEET

COLONIAL ONE

OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT

UNKNOWN SYSTEM

With a startled jump, Laura awoke from her nightmare, finding herself lying in her small bed in her private room aboard Colonial One. She sat up and with a still trembling hand massaged her eyes. Nearly two weeks and she still couldn't shake these nightmares.

Knowing she would be unable to get back to sleep, Laura got out of bed and pulled her housecoat on over her nightgown and walked over to a chair on the opposite side of the cabin where lied a book on a small end table. It was the very same novel Bill Adama had gifted her, the classic mystery thriller 'Dark Day' by Edward Prima. It wasn't exactly the kind of book one should read when they were trying to sleep but at this point, Laura had all but given up.

She'd gotten a good halfway through Chapter 12 when a soft knock rapped on the door and Laura cleared her throat. "Yes?"

"The door opened slightly and Billy poked his head in. "Sorry to bother you, madam President." He said considerately, knowing of her sleep troubles as of late.

"Oh, it's no bother Billy." Laura replied as she placed a bookmark in and set the novel back down on the table.

"Admiral Adama is on the line, he wants to speak with you."

Laura smiled and nodded. "Okay, thank you." With that and a sad look at her, Billy shut the door. He really was a good young man. Laura reached for the phone also on the table and picked up.

"Admiral, how are you doing this morning?" she asked politely, trying to build back the trust she had lost in her actions involving the Pegasus Standoff.

"Better than you I hear." Bill replied in his normal gruff tone.

Laura paused in an anxious vulnerable moment. "Yes… I've been having nightmares, about Garner, the execution. It... happens every time I close my eyes." She admitted to him.

"That's good." Bill replied and for a moment, she felt hurt. "That means you still have a conscience, that the woman I grew… to admire and respect is still in there." he said and Laura heard the warmth in his words.

"Thank you."

She heard Bill clear his throat. "I wanted to keep you appraised of the situation. Galactica is getting the fusion reactors installed and won't be operational for a few days so for the time being we're transferring over to Spirit of Fire so all essential personnel can get acquainted with the new systems they're going to install."

Laura shook her head. "I still can't believe you agreed to Cutter's crew exchange after Helena Cain tried to do the same thing."

"I don't know what was said between you two, but he's not a bad officer. He wants to protect his crew and I can't fault him for that. It's a bit too much, too soon for my liking but I agree to at least the spirit of the what the exchange is trying to do and at least with some of my people onboard his ship, I might be able to learn if he's hiding anything else important from us. I'm also not about to say 'no' to almost fifty railguns." Bill commented and Laura smiled.

"Ever the Admiral, aren't you?"

"You should take a look out the window sometime. Galactica has most of her new armor on and I think she's never looked better."

"I'll try to see her when she passes by, anything else?"

"The Quorum's giving the new Ambassador a lashing after Cutter came out about the UNSC's policy on AIs and the existence of the one on Spirit of Fire. Captain Cutter also accepted Rya Kibby's request for asylum aboard Spirit of Fire as of oh-seven-hundred this morning. In response, about half an hour ago, Gemenon introduced a law that would forbid any AI or UNSC software from being installed within the Fleet. Baltar seconded the motion. I don't have to tell you how that could be problematic for Galactica."

"It would put a complete halt on any and all progress on the refit, right. And if you were to ignore the law, it would stoke tensions between the military and the government and potentially cause civil unrest."

"I hate martial law, you know that."

"Bill, I don't know if I'm ready..." Laura said doubtfully as she shook her head. After the standoff, Laura just wasn't sure of herself anymore. Captain Cutter slighted her offer to join with the Fleet, causing an error in her judgement because up to that point, she had always been so right about every challenge that came her way, and what happened at the Tomb of Athena only solidified that self-assuredness.

Then she betrayed Bill and indirectly caused the deaths of five men.

"You're the President," Bill stated. "It's your job to lead this fleet through the good times as well as the bad. You made an error in judgement and people died because of it. It's not something you can forget or ignore. I can tell you that from personal experience." Bill said, showing that even he was fallible. "All you can do is get back up and learn from your mistakes to do better for the people that are still with us."

Laura took a breath, trying to ease herself. "Okay…I'll see what I can do."

"If you need an example to go by, Saul is currently on one of the Fleet's talk shows to put the military's backing behind Spirit of Fire and their AI." Bill said with a barely detectable note of humor.

Laura laughed out loud. "Goodness, how did you manage that?"

"Like I said, fifty cannons go a long way. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye, Admiral." Laura finished and hung up the phone to then quickly reach for the TV remote. She was not going to miss this.

MAY 6 2534 / 1123 HOURS

219 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK

COLONIAL FLEET

BATTLESTAR GALACTICA BS-75

UNKNOWN SYSTEM

"Hello, my name is James McManus and welcome to the Colonial Gang." He welcomed with a smile. "We have a very special guest with us today to speak on the issue of the Spirit of Fire's AI, none other than the very XO of the battlestar Galactica himself, Colonel Saul Tigh."

McManus reached out and shook hands with the man in his ceremonial dress-greys. "Colonel, thank you for inviting me to the Galactica and coming on the show."

"Happy to be here." Tigh replied stoically with a false enthusiasm. Internally, the man was loathing every minute of this, he hated the press and hated being in the spotlight even more. Bill would owe him for this one and more so did Cutter for defending that technological abomination aboard his ship.

"So… Colonel, what was your first reaction to the Thirteenth Tribe's usage of AIs?"

"Surprise… certainly surprise, and maybe even anger." Tigh said with a degree of honesty. "I -um…lost a lot of friends during the war to the cylons. But," Saul paused. "-after reviewing the facts, it is clear to me that what Spirit of Fire has and what the Thirteenth Tribe have are not cylons and are not a threat to this fleet."

"And what are Admiral Adama's feelings on this development?" McManus asked.

"He and I came to the same conclusion, given the evidence Captain Cutter presented to us." Truthfully, Bill's attitude was one of reluctant acceptance. Cutter and by extension, the whole of the Thirteenth Tribe had AIs, and as painful of a pill that was to swallow, they had no other choice but to accept it.

"And this stance the military has taken in regard Thirteenth Tribe AIs has nothing to do with the massive refit Galactica is receiving from Spirit of Fire?" McManus boldly challenged.

"The refit Galactica is receiving has nothing to do with any politics." Colonel Tigh denied with a sneer. "It's about the protection of this fleet from the cylons!" Though in reality, it was the only reason Saul was on this dumb show.

"And can you comment on the kinds of refits Galactica is receiving?"

Saul straightened his sash over his chest as his lips visibly tightened. "I'm afraid that's all classified at this time."

McManus grew a quizzical expression on his face. "What about having an AI, like Serina aboard the Galactica?"

Colonel Tigh took a moment before he replied. He wanted to say 'never' flat out and have the discussion be done but that kind of answer wasn't going to do anyone any favors. "I… can't speculate, I'm not in command of this ship."

"Okay, moving on then, Colonel." McManus said, looking down at his notes. "Recent polls have shown that fifty-seven percent of Colonial citizens disapprove of the Thirteenth Tribe's use of AI, with thirty percent approving and thirteen percent undecided. A lot of supporters for the AI, Serina, are saying that Miss Biers acted unprofessionally in trying to goad provocative answers from 'her', for lack of a better term. Do you agree with this stance?"

Tigh scoffed again, at least with this he could speak his mind. "The woman is a hatchet-artist, I think she's more concerned with her own career than the safety of this fleet. You remember how she tried to pin me to the wall for what happened on the Gideon."

"You mean the Gideon Massacre?"

Saul's gaze fell to the floor and took a breath before he looked back up. "Gideon… was a tragedy."

"One that happened under your command, Colonel." McManus reminded seriously.

That brought on a look of agitation on Saul's face. "It was a fraked situation," he stated forthright. "The president superseded Adama's command and was thrown in the brig. Then to make matters worse, the cylons tried to have him assassinated using who we thought was one of our own." Saul said, referring to Boomer. Saul still had nightmares about standing over his Bill, his best friend at death's door as everyone screamed at and criticized Saul for not being the man Bill was. "I declared martial law because there was no other alternative. I ordered those men to retrieve the supplies the crew of the Gideon was withholding. But what happened on that ship was a result of high stress and mob mentality." Saul said definitively with his forefinger jammed down into an imaginary tabletop. "No one person is to blame. That's the real story, not D'Anna Biers' attempted witch hunt." he said distastefully. "Captain Cutter was smart to face her first before she could start another."

"And what is the military's relationship with Captain Cutter?" McManus asked curiously. "With the recent crew exchanges and the presence of UNSC Marines on battlestar Pegasus, many are speculating if the military has become subservient to Spirit of Fire."

That one Saul wasn't sure of at all at the moment, but thankfully, before he could answer, Dee's voice blared over the intercom. "XO to CIC, XO to CIC."

"I'm afraid, that's where we'll have to call it." Tigh said as he began to stand. "I suggest you get moving as well. And as for your question, close ties do not mean we're under anyone's heel. It's about the security of the Fleet, now excuse me."

\\\\\\O

BATTLESTAR GALACTICA

HANGAR DECK

"I don't understand, what do you mean, I can't come?" Bill heard an older man's voice say as he entered the hangar deck in preparation to depart Galactica for Spirit of Fire. Around the deck was abuzz with all manner of personnel preparing to board Raptors and Pelicans on the deck elevators. Looking down the hangar, he saw one of Cutter's Pelicans sitting on one of the heavy deck elevators with its troop bay full of deckhands and maintenance equipment for the Vipers. Standing at the rear of the troop bay was a UNSC airman Bill recognized as Major Heidegger with his hand out, stopping a man in black from climbing on board.

"Can I help you?" Bill shouted as he closed the distance.

The man turned, revealing an older gentleman with pale skin a few inches shorter than Bill, now looking very relieved to see him.

"Oh, thank goodness. Admiral, could you please tell this… man," he said, restraining himself from an expletive. "-to let me aboard, I have been arguing with him for the past ten minutes!"

Bill looked up to Major Heidegger standing stubbornly at the mouth of the bay. "What seems to be the problem Major?"

"Admiral, this man is refusing to step away from the Pelican and keeping us from taking off. I've told him again and again." The major said more intensely as the other man rolled his eyes with an exaggerated shake of the head. "-that he is not on the list of authorized personnel." The airman finished as he held up a computer tablet with bright green text glowing on its screen.

"What is your occupation aboard Galactica?" Bill asked.

"I am a priest, Admiral. That's something I think the crew of Galactica are going to need on a godsless ship like theirs." He said with an accusatory backward glance at Heidegger that brought a scowl to the major's face.

Bill kept his expression neutral as he responded. "I apologize, Father."

"It's Cavil, Father John Cavil." The man in black interrupted.

Bill continued. "I apologize, but Captain Cutter is very selective about who he lets aboard his ship and has requested that only essential personnel be allowed aboard Spirit of Fire."

"And I'm not?" Father Cavil asked indignantly which rubber Bill in just the wrong way.

"Sorry, but you'll have to stay aboard Pegasus, along with everyone else. I'll have to ask you to step away from the craft so the major can get underway."

The Father made a disappointed face, then exhaled. "Alright, if you say so, Admiral." He said reluctantly before walking off in a huff.

"Thank you, Admiral." With a grateful nod Heidegger spoke.

"You're cleared to proceed, Major." Bill offered the major a salute which the airman returned respectfully before Bill broke it off.

"I'll see you aboard Spirit of Fire, Admiral." Heidegger bid farewell. "Gunnarson, close the rear hatch, begin pre-flight." He ordered to his pilot as he then dawned his helmet. Bill turned to leave and began walking down the deck to his Raptor, which wasn't much of a walk down the deck.

Truthfully, he was reluctant to transfer over temporarily to Spirit of Fire when he had Pegasus but the crew needed the experience with the technology and systems the UNSC technicians were going to install. The last thing they needed was a sharp learning curve with the computers if an attack came from the cylons. Being on Spirit of Fire also meant he would have more direct oversight of what they were doing to Galactica and Bill also didn't like the idea of being too far away from his ship. It simply felt… wrong to him. But foremost in his reasoning was Captain Cutter. They had met formally many times since their initial rocky introduction half a month ago and while Bill could tell he was a good officer and well respected by his crew, they had seldom had more informal conversations that didn't pertain to military of Fleet matters. Cutter had played it all straight so far but Bill couldn't help but feel he was withholding something from him. Or maybe the cylons repeated attacks and acts of espionage were driving Bill into becoming a paranoid head-case. But still, he needed to know.

Coming up to a pad where two Raptors were waiting for him, he saw a squad of Marines walk onto the deck, leading the copy of Sharon Valerri out in handcuffs. "Admiral," she addressed him somewhat nervously. "Are we going somewhere?"

"We're going to be over on Spirit of Fire for a few days while Galactica undergoes the most serious portion of the refit." Bill turned to Sergeant Hadrian leading them. "Get her on board."

"Yes sir." Hadrian answered as she and the Marines boarded the Raptor while Bill made his way to the other.

\\\\\\O

Shortly thereafter, the Raptors left the flight pod, joined by a quartet of Pelicans loaded with Galactica's seasoned crew. This was the second to last wave outbound to Spirit of Fire. That colossal ship was positioned directly under Galactica in a belly-to-belly formation that would expedite the refit process. However, Bill noticed the Raptor was not taking a direct flight path to the support ship and instead was flying directly port.

"Galactica, this is Raptor Seven-One-Eight, we are in position." Ensign Esrin reported back.

"Galactica copies, standby." Bill heard Dee say over the wireless which piqued his curiosity all the more.

"Lieutenant, what's going on?"

"Admiral," Lieutenant Finnegan answered confidently. "If you'll direct your attention outside the window."

Then it all came together and Bill understood what was going on and stood himself to peer out the narrow window on the Raptor's door. Looks like Saul wanted to give Bill a good send-off.

"Vipers! Launch! Launch!" Came the call from Petty Officer Blake back in the CIC.

From the flight pod's launch tubes rocketed out the metallic grey Mk. VII and resplendent red and white Mk. II Vipers, no doubt lead by Starbuck. In an alternating staggered sequence that Bill judged proudly was perfectly timed, the small, nimble fighters were birthed into the black. Gods, it had been far too long since he'd actually gotten to see a launch, he'd almost forgotten what it looked like. As the Vipers formed up into a standard crisscross intercept line formation Bill checked his watch. Just under ten seconds. Had Galactica still been with the Colonial Fleet, Bill's pilots would have set a good example for the other battlestars to follow.

"Lieutenant, send Colonel Tigh and Starbuck my regards. That was a damn fine launch." He complimented.

"Copy that, sir."

With the honorary 'battlestar salute' completed, the Vipers broke off by squadrons and began banking around to begin landing procedures on Spirit of Fire's main flight decks. Bill's Raptor followed suit and flipped downward to approach the UNSC ship that from Bill's perspective, appeared to be laying on its back. Bill glanced back to the underside of Galactica where her belly had been opened like it was undergoing surgery and he couldn't help but worry for her as he absently touched his uniform over the surgical scar that ran down his chest.

MAY 6 2534 / 1203 HOURS

219 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK

COLONIAL FLEET

UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE CFV-88

HANGAR DECK-04

UNKNOWN SYSTEM

The Raptor's hatch opened and Bill stepped out about the same time as Sergeant Hadrian's Marines led the cylon prisoner out of theirs. On the deck, Captain Cutter was there waiting with Spartan Red Team waiting at his side, it appeared he wasn't taking any chances with a cylon aboard his ship. This time however, they weren't carrying the concerningly large weapons they had weilded when they boarded Pegasus, instead they had more reasonable infantry weapons such as the oddly designed shotgun cradled in Spartan Jerome's arms.

"Welcome back aboard, Admiral." Cutter greeted amenably as he walked up to the Raptor to meet Bill.

"Thank you, Captain." Bill replied. "Have you made the appropriate accommodations for the prisoner?" he said with a sideways glance at the humanoid cylon who was beholding the Spartans with wide eyes filled with a mix of awe and fear.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, Admiral. She'll be in good hands." Cutter assured with a tone of full confidence in his voice. "Now if you'll have your Marines join Red Team, they'll escort the prisoner to her cell."

Bill nodded in agreement. The less time she was out, the less likely something bad was going to happen. "Sergeant Hadrian." Bill prompted.

"Yes, Admiral." the Master Sergeant replied. "Do you want me to leave any Marines with you?"

"That won't be necessary, Sergeant." Bill said briefly.

Hadrian gave a curt nod. "Yes sir."

The two officers then watched their men depart together with the cylon in tow until the door the door they left through closed behind.

"Well then Admiral," Cutter said. "Would you like to join me in my quarters while we wait for Colonel Tigh to arrive?"

"That would be fine, Captain. Thank you."

\\\\\\O

UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE

CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS

In James' quarters, they were again sat in the pair of leather upholstered chairs in the corner of the room with tumblers of bourbon sitting on the table between them.

"I have a question for you Captain." Admiral Adama put forth as he raised his glass to his mouth for a sip and James began to follow suit.

"What's it about, Admiral?" asked James as he then too took a sip of his bourbon.

"It's about Spirit of Fire. I'm curious why your navy would refit a non-combat vessel such as her into a full warship. It seems like a drastic measure if you ask me." Adama asked and James could tell the man suspected something. He couldn't tell Adama about the Covenant yet, even in confidence, the threat the Covenant posed might prompt the Fleet to abandon Spirit of Fire and take with them the invaluable FTL drives they carried. Thankfully, James had the truth of history on his side in this case.

"It's a question of logistics, Admiral. We have several classes of mainline carriers. There's the Epoch-class which are about Spirit of Fire's size but can't operate in-atmosphere and serve more as a carrier for squadrons of attack fighters. Then there's its little brother, the Eion-class light carriers that are phasing out the older Athens-classes. Then we have the Orion-class assault carriers that are a little over half our size. And we even have a good dozen supercarriers that are nearly twice Spirit of Fire's size and fitted with a pair of Super-MACs that can kill a ship from thousands of kilometers away." That figure made Adama lower his drink as he looked up to James. "Of those, only the Eions and the Orion-class assault carriers can operate in-atmosphere. The Eions can only carry a fraction of the force an Orion can put into play, and most naval commanders prefer to keep the Eions up in orbit."

"That still doesn't quite answer my question, Captain." Adama said.

"Like I said, it's a question of logistics. The area of space the UNSC controls is very vast compared to the Colonies and even with slipspace drives, it can take weeks or even months of traveling in the outer colonies to get from one planet to another. And capital ships like the Orions are very expensive. So to cut costs, the UNSC introduced the Phoenix-class Support Ship to take the strain off." James explained with a raised hand gesturing to the ceiling as an inference to the rest of the ship.

Admiral Adama looked down to his glance in deep thought as he then spoke. "Seems like that's a lot of firepower to bring to bear against a few rebellious planets."

James leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his glass of bourbon grasped in both hands. "In truth, Admiral." James began. "-the Insurrection was more serious than I've been letting on. For nearly thirty years, multiple factions in the outer colonies rebelled against Earth and the inner colonies in a full-blown civil war that costed us millions of lives. It's still going on to a lesser extent, led by terrorist groups and underground factions. I didn't want to say anything officially up to this point because I didn't want the cylons to learn of any weaknesses they could potentially exploit."

Adama made a deep hum in his throat. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Captain."

The door to James' quarters opened for Colonel Tigh to then step through, prompting both James and Adama to stand and greet him.

The Admiral was the first to shake his hand. "Thanks for the sendoff, Saul." Adama said with true emotion, letting down that stoic mask for just a second.

"Ah, well you know an old sentimental fool like me couldn't just stand by without giving the sendoff you deserve, you've earned it." Tigh tried to excuse as informally as he could but Adama held on to the Colonel's hand for just a meaningful moment longer, giving James the impression these men were more than just the ranking officers that served on the same ship, they were close friends as well and he was curious to learn that story, though perhaps later.

"Thank you." Adama said and then let Tigh's hand go for James to approach.

"Welcome aboard Colonel." James greeted as he and Tigh shook hands.

"Well, thank you for having me, Captain." With a polite smile and nod of the chin Tigh greeted in return.

"It's me who should be thanking you, Colonel, for going on that talk show to support Serina and Spirit of Fire, that probably wasn't an easy thing for you to do."

Colonel Tigh took on veil of humble acceptance that James could tell he was masking his true feelings behind. "It was a… small matter, Captain. I was happy to do it. Especially since I was able to call out that damn D'Anna Biers for the con artist she is." He said with a vindictive smile.

James offered a confident smile in the corner of his mouth in kind as he found it refreshing that he wasn't the only one who found that reporter's attitude irritating as well. "Why don't you take my seat, Colonel." James said with a glance back to the chair he'd been sitting in. "And I'll get you a drink."

"Appreciated, Captain." Tigh responded with an enthused smile at his offer. James went to his liquor cabinet and grabbed a tumbler along with his half-filled bottle of bourbon and returned to the two Colonial officers.

"Colonel, I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine, Mr. Jim Beam." James said as he then poured three-fingers of bourbon for the man and left the bottle on the table for the three of them to share while he retrieved another chair from out behind his desk.

Colonel Tigh made a satisfied hum as he tried his first sip. "Fraking hell, that's some good stuff you have here. I'll have to stop by again soon, if you don't mind."

"You'd be welcome, Colonel." James obliged. While normally James was a friendly guy, he was acting more so for the Admiral and Colonel to establish closer connections to the men for their continued support. James hated being disingenuous, but this was an unusual situation and the only alternative was to hold the entire fleet hostage which as in addition to being very risky, went against his own moral code. He wasn't going to allow himself to become a warlord.

James sat himself back down with the two officers and picked up his drink.

Admiral Adama cleared his throat noisily from his prolonged silence. "If you don't mind me asking, Captain." with a more moderate tone, Adama began. "What exactly will our duties be while we're aboard Spirit of Fire? I'm not one for keeping my hands idle."

"I'm glad you asked. Returning to an earlier topic, there was a thought that stuck with me at the end of the interview you were on, Colonel. The reporter asked what our relationship was, the military and Spirit of Fire." James clarified. "I would like it to be one of mutual cooperation. Give and give, both ways. You gave me your public support in the fleet and the ability to make crew exchanges and in return, I'm giving you the most powerful battlestar the Colonial Fleet has ever seen." James offered as example and to remind Admiral Adama of what he was getting to quell any suspicious thoughts he might be having.

"And so, Admiral. While you and Colonel Tigh are aboard my ship, I will give you and your staff the command of the secondary bridge atop of the vessel, from there you will have the authority to run all air operations aboard Spirit of Fire how you see fit." He said, much to Colonel Tigh's clear surprise and even Adama had inperceptably cocked en eyebrow just slightly. "Lieutenant Colonel McCullen will report directly to the both of you until Galactica is ready to resume standard operations. If you have any ideas how Spirit of Fire might better help the Fleet, now's the time to try them out." It was a bold offer, even risky. But it was a chance James had to take if this alliance was to last and Spirit of Fire was to cement itself as a part of this fleet. "It's only fair, seeing how Colonel Shaw has taken over Marine operations aboard Pegasus." James then added to reinforce his proposed 'give and give' philosophy.

"That's a bold offer, Captain." Adama said, putting James' thoughts into words. "You're really going to put the lives of your pilots in another man's hands?"

"Cooperation is about compromise, Admiral. And reading the after-action reports from Galactica's past engagements, you didn't get to where you are by greasing palms." James said as he looked the older man in the eye. "You told me you were a pilot during the war, and looking at your combat history file, Colonel, I know you were one too. That means you know well the kinds of mindsets pilots have and the kinds of stress they go through. Your tactical expertise with the cylons bring to the table an understanding my pilots don't have. In short, you're the perfect fit for the job if we want that ace Raider out there dead before either of us lose any more pilots to him."

Adama contemplated James' offer for a long moment as he took a deeper drink of his bourbon. "I accept, Captain. But if it's all the same, I'll clear any major changes with you before I implement them. Spirit is still your ship." Adama offered as a courtesy James wasn't expecting.

"I appreciate the courtesy, Admiral. Thank you." James then grabbed the bottle of bourbon and refilled everyone's glasses with a couple fingers each and Tigh nearly drained half of his away almost immediately with great satisfaction evident on his face.

"Yeah, that's the stuff."

James chuckled. "Christ, Colonel. If you like this, I'll break out my good stash of scotch for you once Galactica's finished and we'll have ourselves a real party." He laughed and even Adama cracked a smile on his normally stony face.

As the three men came down from their temporary elation, James leaned back in his chair. "There is one other matter I wanted to bring up with you Admiral, and I think you're going to like it."

"Go ahead." Adama replied before taking another sip.

"Right now, down in the pilots' bunks, I got twenty-six airmen trained to fly ground support missions with no ground to support. They're used to flying attack VTOLs but those aren't going to be of much use out here in a vacuum." James set up. "Rather than continue to waste space and grow fat, I'd like to send them over to Pegasus to begin Viper flight training and have them stationed aboard Galactica once we get starboard flight pod operational, and we will get it operational." James promised.

"Gods, that's nearly two full squadrons right off the bat!" Colonel Tigh commented with some shock.

"Your airmen would be more than welcome aboard, Captain."

"And if you give my maintainers some time with your Vipers while they're aboard, I'll give you back the best version of the craft you'll ever see. Better computer, avionics, improved guns, and inertial dampeners." He added as icing on the cake. "Meaning that they'll be able to pull off maneuvers your pilots could only dream of until now. Bring them up to standard just like we're doing for Galactica."

Adama set his now empty tumbler on the table. "That's a tempting offer but I'd like for your maintainers to consult with Peter Laird, he's the deck chief over on the Pegasus."

James nodded. "Yes, I think I read his file. He used to be an aeronautical engineer, right?" James asked and received a nod from Adama in return. "That poor man didn't deserve what Admiral Cain did to him. Sure, I'll let him come aboard so he can make sure none of the proposed upgrades interfere with existing systems." James then pulled back his sleeve to check his father's old watch. "I apologize gentlemen, but I think it's time I should get back to the bridge. Just ask Serina and she'll direct you up to the secondary bridge and you can take over command of air operations when you're ready."

As James rose out of his seat, Adama was just as quick to do the same. "One last thing, Captain." The Admiral said, grabbing his attention. "I'm sure you've noticed by now that our cylon prisoner is…pregnant."

"Not hard to miss, Admiral. I was curious about the story behind that."

"The cylons for whatever reason are incapable of reproduction, so instead they've been trying crossbreeding with humans through various methods. The child she is carrying is the result."

"I'm not sure if I should be horrified or fascinated." James admitted.

"Sure as hell freaks me the frak out." Tigh grumbled.

Adama glanced over to the Colonel before returning to James. "The President and I have come to the decision that while we are not prepared to kill it, we cannot allow the prisoner to keep the child. We don't know what her plans are for it, but we do know the cylons want it, which means it's bad for us. When the child is born, we intend to hide it amongst the civilian population and fake its death so the cylons might have less reason to pursue us."

James hadn't expected to be drawn into a conspiracy with Admiral Adama but kept his emotions tempered behind a passive face. "You really think the cylons know about it?" he asked. "The rest of the civilian fleet doesn't."

"I'd rather not take chances and assume they do." Adama answered briefly.

James hummed in understanding as he contemplated the implications of the conspiracy. "Have you arranged for anyone to take care of the child?"

"Not as of yet, it's still too soon, but I wanted to inform you if there was a possibility to keep it here on Spirit of Fire, since your ship seems to run tighter security."

"I'll consider it, Admiral." James answered noncommittally.

"Thank you."

"Well then… Admiral, Colonel." James then bid farewell to the two officers as he shook their hands.

"Thank you for the drink, Captain." Tigh thanked before he and Admiral Adama left, leaving James alone in his quarters in almost complete silence. James was about to place his desk chair back where it belonged when he then paused, crossing his arms over the chair's back as a look of deep contemplation became etched on his face as he mulled things over. He was fairly sure he'd driven off any suspicions Admiral Adama might have had but James wasn't expecting to be drawn into a convoluted conspiracy to kidnap an unborn child. On the one hand, it showed Adama was trusting him more despite Spirit of Fire's occupation of Pegasus. These favors he was doing for Adama were buying him the man's trust and cooperation, however, James had no idea how he could, or even should tell Adama that Spirit of Fire's navigational data was all but useless so far out in uncharted space. If that got out, his ship would lose any and all support within the Fleet for certain and plummet morale amongst the civilians.

Then there was the question of the Covenant.

There was no guarantee that the Fleet wasn't sailing straight toward Covenant Space and James wrestled with the idea of informing Adama about the threat they posed. He had a right to know, should the worst happen, but there was the potential panic that could create. A threat worse than the cylons? Yes, James thought to himself sarcastically. That would go over very well.

No, he couldn't tell Adama that, it was still too soon. Right now, everyone needed to stay focused on the immediate threat of the cylons, and get Galactica up to par or as close to that as Spirit of Fire could manage. That's what mattered.

Author's Note: Again, not much action outside politics and social maneuvering aside from the ODST's wakeup call on Pegasus, but with Adama at the helm to take over flight-ops against Scar and the Raiders, you can bet there'll be a good old dogfight in part 4. I decided to throw in Rya Kibby's story in as an added factor to the political tension because I didn't want to ignore that plot point from the show. This is Battlestar Galactica in the Halo universe first and foremost and not an endless action fic. This part was more about moving the players into position, the fleet's reaction to Serina, and showing the aftermath of the Pegasus Standoff. On the topic of Easter eggs, I hope you all caught that Cavil was the Man in Black, aka: the devil.