Ghosts from the Past
Previously, on Battlestar Galactica
Before the Cylon attack
Galactica: Hangar Bay
"The Cylon War is long over, yet we must not forget the reasons why so many sacrificed so much in the cause of freedom. The cost of wearing the uniform can be high, but...
Sometimes it's too high. You know, when we fought the Cylons, we did it to save ourselves from extinction. But we never answered the question: why? Why are we as a people worth saving? We still commit murder, because of greed, spite, jealousy, and we still visit all of our sins upon our children.
We refuse to accept the responsibility for anything that we've done. Like we did with the Cylons. We decided to play god, create life.
When that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that it really wasn't our fault, not really.
You cannot play god, then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done anymore," Commander Adama said, then walked off the podium and sat down to the deafening silence of the crowd for Galactica's decommissioning ceremony.
Several hours later…
Galactica CIC
"Attention all Colonial units. Cylon attack underway. This is no drill," Lieutenant Felix Gaeta said.
Galactica: Commander's Quarters
"I'll be right there," Commander Adama said.
Minutes later, Galactica CIC
"How? Why? Doesn't really matter now. What does matter is that as of this moment, we are at war," Commander Adama said.
Pre-Cylon Attack, Flashback: Admiral Corman's Office
We may never have this opportunity again. I'm assuming you appreciate the consequences if you're discovered. And you understand, Commander, that this conversation did not happen. Are you prepared for this?" Admiral Corman asked.
"Of course, sir. On one condition: I need my men. Especially for the Stealthship. There's only one pilot I trust," Commander Adama said.
"Who?" Admiral Corman asked.
Day 935 Since the Fall
Avalon, Colonial Government HQ, President's Office
President Roslin sat in her cushy chair, taking a momentary break from work and looking over at her aide Tory Foster. Not too long ago, she had been revealed as a Cylon. The President had originally locked her away, sending her back to her people and tried her best to forget she ever existed once she found out the truth about Tory. Over time the President had begun missing her most helpful aide who had taken over after her previous aide who'd been with her during the Cylon attack and she'd looked to as a son until she lost him. Helped along by the utter incompetence, at least in her eyes, of the three other aides who had replaced Tory, the President eventually relented and in other moves to further the burgeoning alliance with the small group of Cylons they'd had until recently she had brought Tory back to work for her. She may never look at her the same way again, or bring her into her confidence like before, but she could not deny she would always feel a fondness for her and appreciated her great work.
Shaking herself out of her reflective reverie, President Roslin turned back to her work, sorting through her old files now that she'd finally gotten a spare moment since taking the her officially elected office as President over the people inhabiting Avalon. Several boxes were from colonial one, which had previously remained untouched for a long time.
"Oh, my Gods. Oh Tory, come look at this. This is the dossier that Billy prepared for me my first day aboard Galactica. I can't believe I was about to throw this out in the trash," President Roslin said, gasping in shock, her mind turning to fond memories with Billy Keikeya in spite of herself.
Tears burst from her eyes as she thought of Billy, but the President smiled as the picture she held in her hand reminded her of the day before the Cylon attack and her early days as interim President of the colonies on the old Galactica.
Tory joined the President, looking over her shoulder at the picture of the Valkyrie commanding officers, what at the time was Commander Adama and Colonel Tigh.
"The Valkyrie. This was Adama's command before Galactica?" Tory asked.
"Mm-hmm," President Roslin replied.
Looking closer at the image and mentally calculating Tory chuckled as she said, "Look at that. This year marks Admiral Adama's 45th anniversary in the Colonial Fleet. In fact, his commissioning date's only a few days from now."
President Roslin smiled fondly at the image of Bill Adama then handed Tory the dossier. Thinking of recent turmoil among the civillians on Avalon and even members of the military, President Roslin came up with an idea.
"I think I want to have a ceremony. Let's give the Admiral a medal for 45 years of devoted service," President Roslin said craftily, grinning mischievously.
Tory, continuing to look at the picture replied dutifully, "Couldn't have come at a better time."
"It'll give the people something to feel good about for a change," President Roslin said, nodding to herself.
Deep space patrol away from Avalon, patrolling for signs of the Cylons
Galactica CIC
"This is the XO. Set Condition one throughout the ship. I repeat, set Condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill," Commander Saul Tigh said.
"What's the problem?" Admiral Adama asked, arriving in CIC.
"Three Raiders, CBDR (Constant bearing/decreasing range), bearing 145, carom 33," Lieutenant Colonel Felix Gaeta said.
"But this isn't their standard wedge formation," Commander Tigh said.
"Where's the CAP?" Admiral Adama asked.
"Starbuck and Kat will intercept in 98 seconds, sir. It looks like a pursuit, and there's been weapons fire exchanged between them," Colonel Aaron Kelly said.
"A pursuit?" Admiral Adama asked in confusion.
"Yes, sir. We've got two Raiders chasing a third," Commander Tigh said grinning, amused.
In Space: Viper CAP
Major Kara Thace Starbuck and Captain Louanne Katraine Kat followed in their Mark VIII vipers at a safe distance as three Raiders flew through space, drawing nearer and nearer to the Galactica. Two raiders fired their cannons at a damaged third one, missing the Raider as it weaved back and forth evasively.
Galactica CIC
"Have they fired on any of ours yet?" Admiral Adama asked.
"No, sir," Commander Tigh said.
"What the hell are they doing?" Admiral Adama wondered aloud.
In Space: Viper CAP
"All right, let's see if we can climb up their asses without drawing any fire. These two seem pretty preoccupied with the other one..." Starbuck said.
"Got any idea why Cylons would be chasing Cylons?" Kat asked in confusion.
"Don't know, don't care. But wait till we close the gap, I don't wanna have to chase these frakkin' things any longer than I have to," Starbuck said abruptly.
"Yeah, roger that," Kat agreed quickly.
A quick space battle ensued; the raiders in front of the vipers, focused on firing on the third damaged raider, didn't put up much of a fight and were quickly destroyed.
"Two down! One to go!" Kat said excitedly.
"Kat, check six. … Damn, Kat, flank right. This guy's headed right for Galactica," Starbuck said, attempting to get the Raider in her sights until it maneuvered away.
"I'm on it, sir!" Kat said, outpacing Starbuck's viper and chasing the remaining raider.
Galactica CIC
The officers in CIC stood listening to Kat and Starbuck's wireless chatter and watched immobile as the remaining Raider closed with their position.
"Krypter krypter krypter! This is Bulldog. Get me the hell out of here. I'm wounded!" a voice said over the wireless, claiming to be known as Bulldog.
The officers in CIC looked up sharply after hearing that transmission.
"What the frak is that?" Starbuck asked in confusion, following in on Kat's six to reach the Raider.
"Target in range, closing in," Kat said confidently.
"Krypter krypter krypter, this is Bulldog..." Bulldog said.
"Audio lock-on enabled," Colonel Kelly said.
"Where is that coming from?" Admiral Adama asked.
"It's the Raider, sir," Lieutenant Colonel Gaeta said.
"Take the frakkin' shot, Kat," Major Starbuck said as Kat's viper raced ahead of her own.
"Gimme a sec. I almost got him lined up," Kat said, focusing on her sights targeting the raider as she closed distance.
"Krypter krypter krypter, this is Bulldog," Bulldog said.
Admiral Adama listened intently as the message became more clear, his look of understanding contradicting the looks of confusion the other members of the CIC crew wore.
"Kat, take the frakkin' shot," Major Starbuck urged impatiently.
"Order the Vipers to hold their fire, immediately," Admiral Adama ordered abruptly, raising eyebrows and prompting looks of confusion and bewilderment from his crew.
The communications officer dutifully sent the Admiral's orders to the CAP.
"Have them escort the Raider in. Prisoner drill. I want the alert guard in the hangar deck in five minutes," Admiral Adama said, expecting absolute obedience.
"Yes, sir," Commander Tigh said simply.
Galactica: Hangar Deck
"All right, park that bird! Let's grab this Raider! Let's go, people! Move with a purpose!" Chief Tyrol ordered loudly.
The bay doors opened, and the Raider was moved onto the hangar deck.
"Make some room for the marines," Chief Tyrol ordered.
The Raider was chained to the walls and slowly brought into a landing position. The usual red eye within the Raider's visor was blank, empty of color and apparently of life.
Starbuck moved to stand with Admiral Adama who looked at the Raider expectantly, both stared at the Raider.
The raider began dripping fluid and a hatch on the bottom of the Raider opened, dislodging a black male within – apparently the man claiming to be known as Bulldog, covered in goo. Bulldog fell to the bay floor and stared at the crew members gathered around as he slowly rose to his feet while moving away from the Raider.
Adama, Kara and some Marines approach, guardedly. Bulldog salutes the Admiral as the rest of the crew looks in bewilderment, and Adama salutes back.
"Is it really you, sir?" Bulldog asked, not quite believing what he is seeing.
Admiral Adama approaches Bulldog as Kara and the crew stared at the scene, "Yeah… It's me."
"Welcome home, Bulldog," Admiral Adama said, with a small bittersweet smile.
Eight jumps out from Avalon system
Colonial Fleet BSG 21, Patrol Picket
Raptor 268 jumped back to the position of its flagship Battlestar Deucalion. The Raptor pilots were bobbing up and down in their seats excitedly, they were so excited they skipped normal procedure and immediately began docking to Deucalion as quickly as possible. They then ran through the flight deck and subsequent corridors through the ship, reaching the CIC minutes later, heaving and panting near the end.
Rear Admiral Joseph Marshall would normally be ripping his pilots a new one for their disregard of protocol, but couldn't laughing himself, along with several other crew members in CIC, at the sight of the two pilots red-faced and all but ready to collapse, heaving and guffawing all the while trying desperately to communicate with their superior officers.
"Sir, we found a Battlestar!" Lieutenant Jack Clifton said finally catching his breath, gathering as much dignity as he could upon noticing the crew members laughing at the pilots' appearance.
"Say again?" Admiral Marshall asked, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.
"Sir, there's no mistaking it. There is a colonial Battlestar out there! We came across it on our deep space patrol sir," Lieutenant Flora Sanders said excitedly.
Admiral Marshall chewed on that thought for a moment as it sank in, briefly considering that the two pilots had lost their minds or gone thick in the head, but he couldn't deny the honesty in their eyes, and their clear excitement as they grinned from ear to ear at their discovery.
"Mister Flint, take us to condition one and prepare the ship for an FTL jump to raptor 268's last location," Admiral Marshall ordered, coming to a decision.
"Yes sir!" Lieutenant Marcus Flint said hurriedly, moving to carry out the Admiral's orders and sending the alert over the ship's intercom to bring the ship to condition one.
Alarms began blaring throughout the ship, rousing resting crew members to alert and over the next few minutes the crew rushed to their stations throughout the massive ship.
"Dismissed Lieutenants. I believe you might be of more use on the hangar deck," Admiral Marshall said, not unkindly in the direction of the raptor pilots.
The two pilots nodded before rushing back out of CIC.
Some hours later after Galactica returned to Avalon space
Galactica: Med Lab
Doctor Cottle checked the readings on Baltar's Cylon detector, which had been called for to check on the recent arrival to the fleet and despite hesitancy to using the technology due to its history and source from Baltar, Admiral Adama has ordered it to help with allaying the crew's suspicions towards Bulldog.
"Well ... the conspiracy theorists are gonna be disappointed. We've checked your DNA signature against your military records, and it's conclusive. You're not a Cylon. Smoke?" Cottle said, looking at his patient.
Bulldog stared at Cottle silently, so after a moment Cottle shrugged and popped the cigarette into his own mouth.
"That's right. He's one of mine. Disappeared about three years ago. We think that he was captured," Admiral Adama said quietly into the Medical center's phone that he held in his hand, back to Cottle and Bulldog.
"I'd like to meet him," Roslin said in an authoritarian manner into her phone, all the way down on Avalon in the president's quarters.
"Of course. I'll arrange it," Admiral Adama said, hanging up the phone and then turned toward the approaching Doctor Cottle.
"Well ... he checks out fine. Whatever they did to him out there, they kept him fed and relatively healthy. Physically, anyway," Cottle said, looking meaningfully at the Admiral before turning to walk away.
Galactica: Adama's Office
Bulldog sat across from Admiral Adama, eating his proffered noodles like it was going to be taken from him at any moment.
"I know you've been through a lot. I realize that. But you've gotta talk to me, Danny. How the hell did you escape off a Cylon baseship?" Admiral Adama asked.
Bulldog swallowed his food before replying, "Well, sir, it's like this. The enemy had me locked in a cell for three years. The accommodations were lousy, the service was slow, and after a while I felt the institution no longer had anything to offer me. So I left."
"You had me worried there for a moment. Thought maybe the Cylons had beaten the bullshit attitude out of you," Admiral Adama said, with a bemused smile.
Bulldog laughed heartily at hearing that.
"How'd you get out?" Admiral Adama asked, taking a stiff drink before he spoke.
Bulldog started shaking before he responded, "I thought I was gonna die in there, Bill. But a while ago, there was chaos among their ranks, a rebellion I heard one of the Cylons who often guarded my cell call it."
"The Cylon rebellion among their human models," Admiral Adama said.
"Yeah," Bulldog confirmed.
"We've seen that too. Most of the human models separated from the rest and ended up almost wiped out by the other models in a massacre, taking advantage of their desire for peace. Then they retaliated against the others, taking away all of Cylon resurrection, and killing a number of the Cylons in their way to boot," Admiral Adama said.
"Yes sir. I heard fragments of a similar story shared between my guards. That was some time ago. Then my guards became more strict. It seemed they were becoming stressed and harsher as a result. This continuined for a while, growing worse, until I saw a way to take advantage of the situation," Bulldog said.
"So what did you do?" Admiral Adama asked.
"I was smart. Patient. I waited until my guards from two different models, an old man and a younger one, were switching for their shifts in questioning and watching over me. I'd seen these two argue a lot before, so I… Encouraged their obvious enmity. They began fighting each other, with the younger one clearly having an edge despite the older one's viciousness. In the struggle, the keys to my cage, which the younger one usually kept hold of and traded off to whoever replaced him in watching over me, fell to the ground in front of me. I was quietly unlocking my catch and just stepping out when the older Cylon used a gun he'd had in his pocket to kill the other model. Blood seeped from his body a few feet from my cage, and the older Cylon had his back to me. I rushed him, took his own gun and shot him repeatedly. Then I ran through their ship as quickly as I could, knowing the Cylons would've heard the shot and sent someone to investigate soon enough. I moved through the ship until I found one of their fighters, forced my way inside and took it for a spin to make my escape. Two of theirs followed me shortly after I left the ship, and I played cat and mouse with them until I made it here. I didn't understand how the two raiders followed me through the several jumps it took to get here, but I outmaneuvered them. Then I was where your fleet was and the rest you know," Bulldog said.
Several hundreds of lightyears from Avalon system, Ghost Ship Position
Colonial Fleet BSG 21, Battlestar Deucalion CIC
"So we can confirm it then?" Rear Admiral Marshall asked apprehensively.
"Yes sir. Our boarding parties upon the ship have found no signs of life. Some bodies of crew members found across the ship was the only sign anyone had been aboard her. Fleet registry documents aboard have been authenticated, furthering the proof of visual ID from what we can see of the ship. This is, or was, the Battlestar Bellerophon. What's left of it anyway, given the signs of damage aboard – it's clear she's seen combat since she went missing," Colonel James Stewart said.
"Bellerophon?" Admiral Marshall asked skeptically, having a hard time to believe anything about this situation as of yet.
"She was an Ares class Battlestar, one of the first created, and had originally had a Cylon crew aboard back when the fleet had begun replacing dependency on basestars with more human controlled vessels. She was one of the few of the class recovered when the Cylon uprising and the first war occurred. No records of her exist after the war, it's as if she simply faded from existence," Colonel Stewart said, perplexed.
"Clearly there's more to the story than what we've uncovered so far," Admiral Marshall said.
"Yes sir. Also, a search of the computer records for the ship gave us her last position. Some distance away based on the calculations, according to one of our dradis operators anyway. They couldn't figure out how Bellerophon arrived this far out from there, but assume she must've drifted from her original jump point," Colonel Stewart said.
"I see," Admiral Marshall said, taking a moment for consideration as his thoughts raced a mile a minute before continuing, "have our personnel on Bellerophon continue investigating. I want every nook and cranny on that ship searched. Also, have a scout sent to check out the coordinates for the ship's last destination. Make it one of our Peregrines aboard, just in case."
"Expecting trouble sir?" Colonel Stewart said, thinking about the weapons systems aboard the Peregrine gunship.
"Better to be over prepared than underprepared. We still don't know what caused the Belle's damage, so I want to be prepared for the worst," Admiral Marshall said.
"Yes sir," Colonel Stewart said, saluting before turning to head out and begin issuing the Admiral's orders.
Avalon System
Galactica: Adama's Office
"Let me try and understand exactly what happened to you. I'm just gonna go back a little, all right? About a year prior to the Cylon attack on the Colonies, you were on a mission with Admiral Adama. Is that correct?" President Roslin asked, after Bulldog had told of his story of escaping the Cylons.
Admiral Adama and Bulldog looked at each other in silence, Bulldog silently checking with his former commanding officer if it was alright to give any information about the mission that had received the highest level of classification by the fleet.
"It was a black ops mission," Bulldog said.
President Roslin forced herself not to sigh in frustration, seeing that this would be a struggle to get any useful information, then crossed her arms and nodded for Bulldog to continue.
"You remember the Tauron Colonists were such outlaws, always pushing their luck with the Admiralty every chance they got?" Bulldog asked.
"Right," President Roslin said.
"The Taurons were drilling for tylium ore on a moon that was too close to the Cylon Armistice line. We knew that they had to get out of there or risk provoking the Cylons," Admiral Adama said, looking away from Roslin several times as he spoke.
President Roslin nodded at them both with understanding in her eyes, waiting expectantly for them to continue.
"I'm sorry, but how did this result in his ship being shot down?" Tory asked.
"He was my recon pilot. He was there to gather evidence. Taurons must've seen us coming, because they ambushed him," Admiral Adama said.
President Roslin watched the Admiral closely, a flicker in her eyes as she recognized one of Adama's tells that he gave off when he lied.
"Lieutenant Novacek was shot down by the Taurons in cold blood," Admiral Adama said.
Flashback: Valkyrie CIC
Adama stood listening to the communications being received from Bulldog, which was coming out over the speaker and heard by all in CIC.
"Krypter krypter krypter, I've got damage to the port engine. Bird is down. Repeat: bird is down. Request krypter krypter! This is Bulldog... bird is down. Repeat: bird is down. Request rescue," Bulldog said, desperation and panic in his voice.
Galactica: Adama's Office
"So what did you do?" President Roslin asked.
"I made a bad call. His ship was gone. No ejection on dradis. No distress call. He was dead. So I left," Admiral Adama said.
"But the Lieutenant did eject, obviously, and somehow survived in his ejection seat long enough for the Cylons to find him. Wow," Tory said.
"Could you both give us a moment, please? Thank you, Tory, and thank you very much, Lieutenant. I appreciate it," President Roslin said, making it sound like not much of a request so much as an order, looking at Adama who barely concealed his inner feelings of guilt. Wanting to get to the bottom of things, she sent everyone away so they could end what appeared to be a complete and utter farce.
"Madam President," Bulldog said respectfully.
"Why don't we check the Fleet registry, see if any of your family might have survived?" Tory asked, directing Bulldog out of the office.
The two of them left the President and Admiral along. President Roslin stared at Adama, smiling sweetly at him as she saw the deeply saddened look upon his face as he watched Bulldog leave.
"So are you gonna tell me what really happened?" President Roslin asked bluntly.
"You're gonna have to trust me on this one, okay? It's my mess. I'll fix it," Admiral Adama said, unwilling to say anything more on the subject.
Admiral Adama stood at attention, and seeing that he would not be moved to cough up any more info after staring him down, President Roslin finally left him alone. Alone, Adama stared around and eventually whacks at a chair angrily.
Galactica: Tigh's Quarters
"So Bulldog's alive?" Commander Tigh asked, not quite able to believe it.
"Yeah," Admiral Adama said sadly.
"My Gods. How could he be alive? That tough son of a bitch, he actually made it, didn't he?" Commander Tigh said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, I guess he did," Admiral Adama said.
"So… The elephant in the room. Tell him what happened Bill. For gods sake, I can see how guilty you look. If nothing else do it for your own sake," Commander Tigh said.
Admiral Adama looked at Tigh guiltily, and taking a swig of ambrosia that Tigh offered the two drank together.
"I did what I had to do," Admiral Adama said, mostly trying to reassure himself.
"So tell him," Commander Tigh said emphatically.
Admiral took a moment's consideration before replying, "It's not gonna make any difference, the past is the past."
"You're equivocating," Commander Tigh said, shaking his head at his friend.
"I don't know why the frak I came here," Admiral Adama said, turning to leave abruptly.
"Tell him! He's gonna find out sooner or later," Commander Tigh said, calling after the quickly departing form of Admiral Adama.
Hundreds of lightyears from Avalon, Ghost ship Bellerophon's previous location
A Peregrine gunship appeared out of FTL, arriving at its designated location where Bellerophon's last jump point had been according to the ship's logs. The ship's sensors reset after the jump, coming up with very little at first as it ranged from short range before beginning to extend further out, to search at its maximum range.
"Frak lot of nothing here," Lieutenant Matthew Nable said to himself quietly, slightly annoyed at what appeared a waste of a trip.
The scanners then started picking up longer range dradis contacts. Debris made up multiple contacts, spread out at a distance. Then farther out were several moons, gas giants and other astral bodies in the system… Then a planet capable of supporting life. Approximate to one of the twelve colonies, not quite as pristine 'perfect' as Caprica had been, but more than sufficient and above other lifeless rocks that composed many star systems.
"Frak me," Lieutenant Nable said, noticing the planet. Then he looked back at the debris, curiosity getting the better of him.
The colonial fleet Lieutenant decided to investigate further on his own, drifting toward the debris and closer to the planet, which due to the distance would take some time even with his fairly fast onboard boosters.
Almost an hour after Adama left…
Galactica: Tigh's Quarters
"Go away," Commander Tigh said, staring at his wife's picture and trapped inside his own memories of things long since past before being brought back to the present at the noise of incessant knocking on the hatch door to his room.
Louder knocking followed Tigh's barked request.
"Gods damn son of a bitch," Commander Tigh said, rushing to the door and forcing it open abruptly, revealing Bulldog.
"I can't believe it. It's really you," Bulldog said, thick with disbelief and emotion after Tigh opened the door.
"Danny Novacek. They told me you made it. Good for you, Bulldog," Commander Tigh said, grinning at his old acquaintance.
The two old crew mates embraced in a hug for a short moment before breaking apart, moving to sit down in Tigh's quarters.
"Saul," Bulldog said, nodding and looking around the Commander's quarters.
"A drink?" Commander Tigh asked, bringing out his bottle of ambrosia.
"You have no idea," Bulldog said.
"Yes, I do," Commander Tigh said.
A few minutes and some drinks later, the two moved onto more serious conversation.
"Let me ask you something. How the frak did you get out here? Not that I wasn't grateful to see a friendly face and a colonial fleet, but we're so far from colonial space…" Bulldog asked, considering mentally what he'd thought about since seeing the navigation data in the Raider he had stolen – he was by no means an expert, but even a thickheaded, lacking in book smarts, pilot like him could figure out he was way the frack out of known space.
"After the Cylon attack, we thought we were all that was left. We had a different heading entirely, but survivors from a larger unit of the colonial fleet found us and brought us here," Commander Tigh said simply.
"And how'd you wind up here? Not to mention on that old bucket, the previous Galactica anyway? I learned about some of what has gone on with the fleet, but only so much. What happened to the Valkyrie?" Bulldog asked.
"Well, uh, let's just say that last mission wasn't exactly a boon to the old man's career. Galactica was his graceful retirement. Frankly, we thought everything had been lost in the Cylon attack save for Galactica, at first anyway, but Valkyrie, tough old bird she is, is still around and kicking in the fleet," Commander Tigh said.
Bulldog nodded at hearing that, then frowned as looked at Tigh, thinking about things he'd learned from others on the ship he'd talked to.
"Heard you and the old man haven't been on the best of terms for some time, even though you seem to be doing ok enough now? What's wrong? He won't cover your ass day and night like he used to?" Bulldog asked, grinning.
"Oh, no, he still does his share of ass-covering. Problem is, it's his main function now. Of course, considering how you wound up getting captured in the first place, I guess you found that out the hard way yourself, didn't you?" Commander Tigh said, directing the conversation from himself, sobering as he considered both of their situations.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bulldog asked, eyebrows scrunching together.
"My Gods. He didn't tell you, did he? Did he?" Commander Tigh asked slowly, unable to believe it.
"Tell me what?" Bulldog asked.
"That son of a bitch," Commander Tigh said, shaking his head in disappointment.
Galactica: Adama's Office
"Dad? Hey, I just, uh, I just got your message," Commodore Lee Adama Apollo said uncertainly, entering his father's quarters.
"Thank you for coming. Sit down. It's time for us to talk," Admiral Adama said grimly.
A few minutes later…
"I shot him down," Admiral Adama said.
"Well, if you shot him down you had your reasons, you were following orders. Preventing something worse. Right?" Apollo asked after moment of shock, trying to believe his father had a reason for doing what he said he did.
"No. I shot him down to avoid... detection. Protect the mission. So it wouldn't be discovered by the Cylons. It was a black ops mission whose sole purpose was to ascertain the likelihood of a Cylon strike," Admiral Adama said.
"Cylon strike? So you're saying that - that we knew they were out there? That they could launch an attack on the Colonies?" Apollo asked, voice thick with disbelief and shock, leaning forward in his seat and looking worriedly at his father.
"We didn't know anything for sure. There were theories in some circles that the reason that the Cylons had stayed dormant for so long was because they were building a war machine. Preparing a strike," Admiral Adama said, trying to convince himself as much as Lee with the same argument he'd told himself whenever he thought of the Valkyrie mission.
"But I thought… I thought that no one had seen or heard from the Cylons in over 40 years," Apollo said uncertainly, getting up and moving around nervously before turning back to his father.
"That's true. Partially. The Admiralty had grown restless with the Adar administration. They thought we were resting on our laurels, unprepared to protect against an attack," Admiral Adama said.
"My mission was to escort a stealth recon ship just beyond the Armistice line, stick our nose over, gather evidence, see if there was any suspicious activities," Admiral Adama said, remembering in detail his meeting with Corman and his initial shock and attempt to remain professional after learning of his mission.
"And if the Cylons discovered you across the line breaching the Armistice, then, uh... they would see that as…" Apollo said, trailing off as he realized the plain truth.
"An act of war," Admiral Adama finished for him grimly.
Flashback: Valkyrie CIC
"Stealthstar, Valkyrie. We register you on dradis, just past the Armistice line. You're on full alert. Proceed with caution," the Valkyrie's Tactical Officer said.
Bulldog's Viper
"Valkyrie, Bulldog. I'm exactly two clicks past the line. Repeat: two clicks, and I've got negative dradis contacts. There's nothing here, sir. Which is fine by me. Company wants to pay me for a joy ride, they came to the right driver. Helluva moon," Bulldog said.
Valkyrie CIC
"Dradis contact. Unknown vessel just jumped in," the Valkyrie's Tactical Officer reported.
Bulldog's Viper
There was a red flash of light after an unknown vessel jumped in.
"Frak!" Bulldog said, his ship jumping forward as his engine became damaged following the flash of light.
Valkyrie CIC
"Krypter krypter krypter, I've got damage to the port engine. Bird is down. Repeat: bird is down. Request rescue. Krypter krypter krypter. This is Bulldog," Bulldog said.
"Vessel just jumped out, sir," the Valkyrie's Tactical Officer said reported.
"Bird is down! Repeat: bird is down! Request rescue. Krypter krypter krypter, this is Bulldog. Bird is down. Repeat: bird is down," Bulldog said.
"Two more dradis contacts. Sir, please instruct. What are your orders, sir? Sir, what are your orders?" the Valkyrie's Tactical Officer asked, repeating as Commander Adama stood stock still.
Adama stood unmoving, overwhelmed as he watched events unfold and considered what needed to be done, knowing what it would cost him personally to get it done.
"Don't do this. Think about it, Bill. You don't want to do this," Colonel Tigh said, looking at his friend and knowing what thoughts were going through his mind, he knew as well as Adama their mission and just what should be done. He knew what it would cost his friend to do it.
"Do you want his ship discovered? Do you know where we are? Do you have any idea what this could mean?" Commander Adama asked, looking pleadingly at his friend, wishing he could offer another choice but knowing he could not.
"Bogies on intercept course. Will merge with Stealthstar in 20 seconds. Sir?" the Valkyrie's Tactical Officer said, looking desperately to the commanding officer for instructions.
"Weapons: launch ship-to-ship missile. Now," Commander Adama said into the ship's intercommunications phone to the weapons section of the ship.
A missile burst out of the missile bay doors from Valkyrie, rushing forward on its assigned course and catching up to strike Bulldog's viper.
Bulldog seeing the weapon coming, not knowing where it came from and assuming it was from the enemy contact, ejected from his viper – refusing to give his enemy satisfaction and survived as his viper was destroyed seconds later.
Galactica, Tigh's Quarters
"No! There is no way..." Bulldog said vehemently, refusing to believe what he was hearing.
"Oh, it's true. And you know it's true. You've known it every second of every day since it happened. And the sooner you admit it, the sooner you might get that haunted look out of your eyes," Commander Tigh said.
Bulldog lunged at Tigh angrily, needing to lash out, Tigh grabbed him by his arms in response.
"Listen to me. Sometimes surviving can be its own death sentence. I know that," Commander Tigh said, then let go of Bulldog after Bulldog looked down at his arms holding him in place.
The two stood looking at each other, and Bulldog finally took off, rushing out of the Commander's quarters.
Galactica: Adama's Office
"So the attack on Novacek's ship - the one that winged him and the two dradis contacts that were following him… They weren't Taurons. Those were the Cylons," Apollo said.
"For all those years, I told myself that I didn't know what they were. But I was just lying to myself. Pretending that it couldn't be true. It is true," Admiral Adama said, finally admitting the truth out loud.
There was a long pause as Apollo had no idea how to respond and Admiral Adama didn't have anything more to say yet. Then…
"I started it. Initiated it," Admiral Adama said.
"Wait a minute, started what? Started what?" Apollo asked.
"The attacks on the Colonies. By crossing the line, I showed them that we were the warmongers they figured us to be. And I left them but one choice. To attack us before we attacked them," Admiral Adama said, beginning to cry.
"No. No. Because it wasn't just you. They put you there. They put you there, across the line. You had no choice. That was the Admiralty. That was the … that was the military. You were one mission. You were one man. One man," Apollo said, refusing to let his father take all that blame.
"It only takes one," Adama said quietly looking down, wiping his eyes.
Apollo looks at his father who stood up, and Apollo cried.
Galactica: Media Room
Starbuck is watching the tape of the CAP battle. She notices that the two pursuing Raiders seem to be intentionally missing him.
"Hmm. That's weird. Why the hell do they keep missing?" Starbuck asked.
Starbuck paused the video just as weapons fire from the opposing Raiders clearly goes too astray, not even aiming at Novacek's Raider.
"Frak," Starbuck exclaimed in bitter realization, standing quickly.
Hundreds of lightyears from Avalon, unknown habitable planet
Lieutenant Nable was scanning the debris field, interested in what he was picking up, when there was movement in the area. A small ship, heavily damaged, began moving once it picked up the gunship scanning the area, setting it off to react in a familiar way and to jump out quietly. Lieutenant Nable didn't notice what happened, focused on what his instruments were picking up with the rest of the debris field.
Though not having been among one of the fleets that had interacted with their enemy in space around Avalon, Lieutenant Nable was quickly gathering enough evidence to implicate just what had occurred here. Just what had happened to the old Bellerophon.
Minutes later, Nable was taking one last scan of the area, including the debris field and the planet, and was planning to jump out momentarily.
Then, dradis contacts began appearing all around him, growing in numbers until there were dozens.
Immediately, these fighters began firing at the Lieutenant's gunship, unleashing missiles and blue bolts of energy in the form of lasers and discharges of plasma.
Panicking, Nable's instincts kicked in and he began to dodge and weaved out of the way of the enemy weapons fire, firing his thrusters to outdistance them all. The dozens of enemy contacts quickly began following him, beginning to catch up to him within moments; appearing to be almost faster than his gunship.
Calming slightly, Lieutenant Nable began unleashing dozens of missiles in seconds, thanking his lucky stars that his fighter had that capability – no other colonial ship really had the same capability at that level. His chaingun began firing as well, the V.I. defense system auto-acquiring targets for him while he focused on high speed flight the frak away from the enemy ships that continued firing at him.
Over twenty of the enemy contacts exploded, becoming fiery meshes of floating metal. Several of the missiles impacted on other enemy fighters, practically bouncing off the ships and doing little damage, while others were damaged but continued onward anyway.
The peregrine's chaingun then began damaging the enemy fighters. Though improved with high explosive rounds, the KEW gunfire didn't immediately cause the enemy ships to explode on contact, their armor proved too powerful for that. A few that were damaged in the last missile strike did detonate and became a fireball as they were destroyed, after several rounds impacted from the chainguns' munitions.
The enemy fighters continued closing on the Peregrine gunship, firing their lasers, and plasma discharges, then working together they tried boxing the Lieutenant in by coming at him from multiple directions.
Several flashes surrounded the Lieutenant's vision as his ship was impacted by weapons fire of lasers and one plasma discharge. The armor that had been strengthened by numerous upgrades and from designs of this enemy's own metallic composition was truly tested. The lasers didn't fully penetrate, but with continuous motion for a few seconds as the beam continued pouring in from the enemy ships the laser began drilling small holes into the peregrine gunship – holes that gradually grew larger within seconds of continuing contact. The plasma discharge impact burned straight through several layers of the gunship's armor, leaving a large scorch march on the peregrine's port wing and damaging numerous circuitry and a number of systems within the ship.
Then Lieutenant Nable forced his way out of the enemy's trap, partially impacting against one of the fighters that got into his way and winging the ship while damaging his own ship in the process.
The Peregrine's chaingun kept firing all the while, the Virtual Intelligence aboard calculating how best to fire without causing harm to the Peregrine in such close quarters.
Five more fighters exploded into expanding flaming debris as the Peregrine flew away, outpacing the fighters for a few moments before they began catching up again.
"Fracking mother of," Lieutenant Nable muttered to himself angrily, then switched his focus back to the battle as the fighters fired upon him again, more holes appearing on his ship as weapons fire impacted.
The Peregrine's portside six-barreled 30mm forward cannon blew up as plasma discharge melted right through the covering armor of the ship, damaging several other systems aboard. Lieutenant Nable snorted at that, considering the irony since he couldn't use his forward cannons anyway, if he tried to take the fighters head-on using his previously two forward cannons they would destroy him.
The V.I. system took temporary control of the Peregrine at Nable's distraction, maneuvering at a somewhat faster speed, which the ship was capable of but not when piloted by a human aboard. Several blasts of plasma, which the fighters had picked up on as the best weapon against him, flew past where the Peregrine had been moments before.
"Thanks honey," Lieutenant Nable said, referring affectionately to the V.I. system aboard after it saved his ass. Nable pulled the stick to weave the Peregrine away from the fighters, then as he passed again he pushed the firing controls to unleash his remaining missiles aboard.
Over a dozen enemy fighters were destroyed as the missiles impacted, unable to maneuver out of the way as they'd been following so closely to get a bead on the Peregrine. The V.I. system simultaneously fired the chaingun repeatedly, hitting many of the oncoming enemy fighters and destroying a few more.
Eight enemy fighters remained, continuing to fire on the Peregrine as it weaved and dodged.
One enemy fighter sent a message to its wing mates to continue as it turned away and jumped away to get reinforcements. Larger ships would come as per protocol of the Harvester fleet.
Galactica/Basestar Flashback
Bulldog was exercising in his cell, then one moment of awareness later he was doing the same on Galactica. He switched back and forth, his memories of his captivity haunting him. Finally, he growled, and with purpose, started out to do what he felt he needed to do.
Galactica: Adama's Office
"Adama," Admiral Adama said briskly as he answered the phone.
"Admiral, you have a call from a Lieutenant Novacek," a CIC officer said, having followed protocol to check with the Admiral if he was ready to receive calls, before transferring an oncoming call to the Admiral.
"Put him through," Admiral Adama said.
"Bill?" Bulldog asked.
"Yes?" Admiral Adama asked.
"This is Danny. We need to talk," Bulldog said shortly.
"Hold on," Admiral Adama said, getting up from his office desk.
"I need to see you right now," Bulldog said urgently.
"Hold on. I'll be right there," Admiral Adama promised.
Galactica: Common Room
Starbuck sat with Commander Tigh with the video of the CAP's fight showing, giving Tigh a glance at frame by frame shots from the video, "The Cylons are saddled up on him. They've got a perfect, point-blank, no-deflection shot. They had him dead to rights."
"I'd say so," Commander Tigh said in agreement, as much as he didn't want to.
"Look, Novacek was hit and smoking, flying straight and level. Any nugget could make that kill. The Cylons could've wasted him any number of times, and they didn't. They didn't. They let him escape," Starbuck said.
"The Cylons don't do anything by accident," Commander Tigh said darkly, taking a drink.
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too. Did Novacek say how he was able to overcome the Cylons that were holding him prisoner? They just happened to have an argument in front of him, let him spur them onward and go about killing each other? At a time when only two models remain in their war camp and they have no resurrection?" Starbuck said, skeptical.
"Who knows? Maybe he got lucky and they got stupid…" Commander Tigh said.
"- Yeah, or maybe they just fabricated and told us a story that we'd buy. Something that was credible, familiar," Starbuck said firmly, sure of herself now.
Galactica Corridor
Adama walked towards Bulldog's assigned quarters.
Galactica Common Room
"Novacek was held on a baseship for years, escapes, and then conveniently finds our Fleet with no agenda and no reason to be here," Starbuck said.
Galactica: Bulldog's Quarters
"Hey, Dan," Admiral Adama said, arriving at the open door to Bulldog's quarters.
Bulldog bashes Adama in the gut with a steel pipe, stunning him, and throws him across the room. Hitting him in the face, then pushing him down into the fallen table in the room. He tied Adama up with his belt, then flipped him up against the table.
"It's funny how all the training comes back, huh?" Bulldog said, unamused.
Bulldog straddled Adama, sitting against him and leaning forward.
"Why did you lie to me, Bill?" Bulldog asked.
He held the pipe across Adama's throat, choking him. As Adama threatened to pass out, Bulldog stood up again.
"All those years... You know what I kept telling myself? What stupid, frakked-up dream I held onto? I kept thinking, Just hang in there, Bulldog. Bill Adama's coming. He won't leave you to rot in here, not him. He won't leave a man behind. Just hold on," Bulldog said.
Bulldog then leaned forward and pushed the pipe against Adama's neck again.
"But you weren't coming. You didn't think I was alive. You weren't even hoping I was alive!" Bulldog said furiously, eyes bulging.
Cylon basestar, Flashback:
Blood seeped from the body of a number five Cylon as a number one stood over him while Bulldog escaped his cage and then using all the anger he'd had at the Cylon whacked him over the head several times, then moved out into the basestar before anyone could investigate the noise in the area.
"And if I hadn't figured a way to escape, if I didn't make my move when I saw they left that door wide open for me, I'd be as good as dead right now!" Bulldog shouted furiously, eyes bulging and his psychosis from his long captivity and from learning the truth ruling him.
"Is that what they did? Did they leave the door standing open? Did they let you escape?" Admiral Adama asked.
"That's not what I meant. I know the truth," Bulldog backtracked, remembering what he wanted the memory to have been – not what actually happened.
Daniel's Prison on a Cylon basestar Flashback:
The doors to Daniel's cage were wide open, two Cylon human models moving away in heated conversation and walking down a corridor through the baseship, opposite the direction where Bulldog began moving away to escape on a Raider.
"I beat them. Do you understand? I beat them at their own game. I frakkin' killed the Cylon, and I escaped. You trying to take that away from me?" Bulldog shouted angrily, half crazed.
"Bulldog!" Commander Tigh shouted, cocking a gun behind Daniel.
Bulldog moved to attack him, and Tigh quickly takes him out with the pipe.
"Stay down! Are you all right, Bill?" Commander Tigh said.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Admiral Adama said, wiped out from the encounter.
"You don't wanna believe it, do you? I know. The truth hurts, Bulldog, but it's better to know the truth than to live a lie. We're all soldiers, Danny. We're all expendable. And we did what we had to do to protect the mission. It's ugly, but there it is. The Cylons let you go. The question is why? Ask yourself that, Danny. Because up until a minute ago, you were doing exactly what they wanted you to do. Come here and learn the truth and seek revenge. And that's exactly what you did. You almost gave them what they wanted," Commander Tigh said.
Tigh dropped the pipe and freed Adama's hands, putting a pistol in his hand.
"Tell you a dirty little secret: The toughest part of getting played is losing your dignity. Feeling like you are not worth the oxygen you are sucking down. You get used to it. You start to believe it. You start to love it. It's like a bottle that never runs dry. You can keep reaching for it over and over and over again," Commander Tigh said, turned toward Bulldog.
"So how do you put that bottle away, Saul?" Admiral Adama asked, eyes narrowing at his friend as he remembered his years of drinking problems and his recent emotional trauma as he came to terms with being a Cylon.
Bulldog looked up at Tigh for the answer too.
"I don't know. One day you just decide to … get up and walk out of your room," Commander Tigh said finally.
Hundreds of lightyears from Avalon, unknown habitable planet
Three enemy fighters remained targeting the Peregrine gunship, but six larger cruiser sized vessels were now in the area and firing heavily at the Peregrine.
"Throw a freakin' tornado of fire at me while you're at!" Lieutenant Nable complained wearily, jigging the controls elft and right to manuever his ship as quickly as he could. Try as he might, the fighters had long since begun adapting to his mvoements and using their greater maneuverability against him.
Just then, a large ball of fire was discharged from one of the weapons mounts from the larger newly arrived ships. The Peregrine narrowly dodged and was scorched by the high heat.
"I didn't actually mean it!" Lieutenant Nable said in outrage.
Repeated fireballs followed, targeting the Peregrine gunship.
The V.I. took control of the ship again, maneuvering faster than Nable could, the fighters followed quickly as well, and the V.I. maneuvered such that the fireballs from the larger ships impacted on two of the fighters, utterly destroying them in large explosions.
The controls then shifted back to Lieutenant Nable, the Lieutenant shifted the ship into a downward spiral away from the enemy fleet, and the V.I. system began firing the chainguns again. The last fighter weaved back and forth before coming into the line of fire, and after several hits was destroyed, its weakened structural frame giving way to the continued firepower.
As the large enemy ships neared, the Peregrine maneuvered away and without distractions and the enemy unable to keep up, Lieutenant Nable spun up the FTL and got an accurate navigation fix then jumped away to safety, escaping the Harvesters.
Within a few hours of the incident with Bulldog
Avalon, Presidential Quarters
"What is this?" President Roslin asked after Adama had handed her a document, following a full explanation of the events with Daniel Novacek and Valkyrie's true mission.
Adama stood before her desk. She flipped through the document Adama had given her, then looked up at him.
"Your resignation. You have gotta be kidding me," President Roslin said, disgusted.
"I said before. We can't hide from the things we've done. I see no other way around this situation. Maybe it's time, Laura," Admiral Adama said.
"Siddown, Bill," President Roslin said forcefully.
Admiral Adama sat down.
"I think you're being naïve," President Roslin said shortly.
"Naïve?" Admiral Adama asked.
"Did it ever occur to you that the Admiralty may have set you up to provoke a war they wanted? It's naïve to think that horrible things that we can't understand have simple explanations. Because simple explanations make us feel like we have control when we don't. We know why the Cylons attacked us and it wasn't any one thing. Oh my Gods. We did a thousand things, good and bad, every day for 40 years, to pave the way for those attacks," President Roslin said.
"Something has to be done," Admiral Adama said, seeking to repent and have justice.
"You know what that is?" President Roslin asked, after handing out a small invitation.
"Medal of distinction," Admiral Adama said, dropping the invite.
"This was before I heard about this resignation of yours. So hmm... I'd like to propose this. You seem hell bent on paying some kind of penance for whatever it is you think you've done. So instead of resigning, why don't you get up and walk out of here. Meet me on the port hangar deck tomorrow evening for this ceremony, and let me pin a frakkin' medal to your chest," President Roslin said.
"I can't," Admiral Adama said.
"It's not for you. It's for them. Stand up there, acknowledge your Fleet, and give them what they need: a hero. That'll be your penance. Even if it kills you," President Roslin said.
The Following Evening
Galactica: Hangar Deck
On the dais are Roslin and Bill, Tigh, Helo, Admiral Stryker and others from the Admiralty, various others from the fleet, and the entire Galactica CIC crew.
"On behalf of everyone in this room, it is my pleasure to present you, Admiral Adama, with the medal of distinction for your 40 years of courageous service to the Colonial Fleet. Congratulations," President Roslin said.
There was applause from all those assembled, thundering throughout the room, as Adama took the podium.
Sometime After…
Galactica: Hanger Deck
Near a transport Raptor.
"Have Dr. Stoffa call me as soon as you arrive. And, Bulldog, you're gonna be fine. Just remember it'll take some time," Doctor Cottle said.
"All right," Bulldog said, nodding.
"Lieutenant... you forgot something," Admiral Adama said, proffering a fleet uniform.
"I can't. Bill, I –," Bulldog said hesitantly.
"Take it. You're not gettin' off that easy," Admiral Adama said.
Bulldog took the uniform.
"Once a pilot, always a pilot, Bulldog," Admiral Adama said.
"Yes, sir," Bulldog said.
They saluted. Bulldog boarded the Raptor and it took off.
Early Morning, Day 937 Since the Fall
Avalon system
Battlestar Atlantis, Admiral's Quarters
"Data collected shows that the old Bellerophon put up quite a fight against the Harvester fleet she ran into at the planet. She destroyed a number of their smaller ships and a few ships larger than herself, as well as many fighter craft," Rear Admiral Marshall said, looking up from the report in his hands.
"I've also reviewed the reports. It seems that most of the crew had already perished in the fighting. When they jumped away to safety at the last moment, they'd already taken damage inside the ship, including damage to life support in numerous sections of the ship. What few crew was left died shortly thereafter," Admiral Thorn said, summarizing the multi-paged reports collected from BSG 21.
"Right. And Bellerophon continued moving through space slowly but surely on its own momentum," Admiral Marshall finished his report.
"So we have an old Ares class Battlestar now, being put inside a shipyard as we speak I assume, and have to decide what to do with it?" Admiral Stryker asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"Yes sir," Admiral Marshall said shortly.
"Up to you on what to do with it," Admiral Thorn said, raising an eyebrow at Admiral Stryker.
Admiral Stryker sighed loudly, not liking making such decisions without even getting his coffee which was essential to his sanity and temperament.
"For now have the dock workers begin repairs and updating the ship to sufficient specs and focusing primarily on getting her adequately space-worthy as if she were part of the fleet. We can move her into the training fleet, taking the strain off our other ships, and with her weapons intact and being modernized she can serve with the rest of the training fleet as possible emergency recall ships, if we really get desperate to use them in battle," Admiral Stryker said.
"Yes sir," Admiral Thorn said, nodding in approval.
"There's also the matter of why she was out this far in the first place?" Admiral Stryker asked, looking to Admiral Thorn.
"As part of the Last Hope Plan, probes had been sent to find faraway habitable worlds that could be beneficial for a colony and to ensure the colonies' survival against a possible Cylon threat. Unmanned ships were sent to those worlds. As you know, Avalon was our chosen world to flock to for Operation Exodus. There was another world investigated by the unmanned ships, it was the only ship to not return. So the Admiralty involved made arrangements and sent out a ship that wouldn't be missed by anyone, erasing records as necessary. Bellerophon was sent to that world, but was never heard from again. The loss was ignored, but it was decided to not send anyone other units to investigate. As we can tell, Bellerophon took a while to get to that planet, and apparently Harvesters must've had a patrol there: they found and eliminated Bellerophon. The ship escaped but the crew was still lost, and the ship drifted through space, arriving where we found it, closer to our side of space, but coming from a good distance away where the world the ship had investigated was," Admiral Thorn said.
"Hmmm," Admiral Stryker replied, sighing.
"On the matter of the Harvesters. Our newest class of fighters, the Peregrine gunship brought back extensive data from its battle at the habitable world, which we can't get to with the clear Harvester presence. It appears the Peregrine fought what might've been among the latest class of Harvester fighter class ships, or at least we should hope that to be the case based on their capabilities," Admiral Marshall said.
"The gunship proved itself in combat, destroying a large group of enemy fighters, with arguably some of the best capabilities we've seen in battle," Admiral Thorn said encouragingly.
"Still, it was practically luck the peregrine did so well. Even with all the weapons and technological advancements aboard, the enemy fighters were extraordinary. The data clearly shows they were adapting to the gunship's capabilities and tactics. In a long term war, that quick adaptability will be a tide turner, even assuming that these fighters couldn't send data on the encounter to their compatriots like the Cylon raiders did back when they had resurrection. We don't know enough about this enemy, so frankly we have to assume anything is possible from them, which does not bode well for us," Admiral Marshall said.
Admiral Thorn nodded grimly in acknowledgement of Admiral Marshall's warning.
"All the more reason to continue advancing further, to keep our fleets developments going," Admiral Stryker said.
"I would suggest adding further advancements to the Peregrines, sir. Perhaps with everything the shipyards are doing it might not be immediately feasible, but making them even stronger against our enemy would be advisable," Admiral Marshall said, receiving a nod from Admiral Stryker in response.
"Speaking of advancements, maybe we should look at involving our Cylon allies more with R&D? Perhaps to improve our technology further; a lot of technological advancements have been turned away from in the past because we were so focused on stand-alone un-advanced computer systems so the Cylons couldn't hack us once upon a time," Admiral Thorn said.
"Perhaps," Admiral Stryker said, then continued after a thought occurred to him, "We'll also have to look into ensuring that the Cylons haven't learned more about Avalon than we thought. This recent incursion with ensuring that Daniel Novacek returned to the fleet… They delivered him on a silver platter awfully close to Avalon."
"The rebel Cylons did say the Cylons were coming here soon enough with the general location in mind. Not to mention that Adama's fleet encountered the Cylons on his way to Avalon; so a significant portion of the Cylon fleet is already within a range of the Avalon system. Like Natalie Six told us, Cavil's rebuilding his fleet, so they'll get closer to within range and focus on their fleet build-up," Admiral Thorn said.
"Hmm," Admiral Stryker said, nodding.
"I'm just appreciative that the Cylons can't use our ships against us when they finally come. Since the rebels and Fours particularly destroyed or brought the captured Raptors and other colonial craft the Cylons had in their possession," Admiral Marshall said.
Admirals Thorn and Stryker nodded at that thought.
"Has there been word on integrating those ships?" Admiral Stryker asked.
"The vipers and raptors are still being checked over, but will be re-commissioned into the fleet in short order. Having them is a meager increase to our fleet, but more importantly keeps the Cylons from using them against as Admiral Marshall pointed out," Admiral Thorn said.
The three Admirals would continue conversing several more minutes before dispersing back to their respective commands.
Day 947 Since the Fall
Cylon Fleet Command Ship
Jack Cavil stood and looked on as the weapons that had been part of Project Corsair were being completed and mass produced on ships in the fleet. Cavil couldn't help a short laugh, as he had often done at the thought, based on the irony that the colonies had a weapons project developing a high yield missile. The Cylons now had hold of it, captured once the colonies had been occupied.
Essentially the weapon for Project Corsair was a high yield missile, not as strong and deadly as nuclear weapons, but worked as a high velocity piercing torpedo that could penetrate through thick armor and exploded inside the ship. It had the capabilities to penetrate inside an enemy's defensive CIWS, and with its power could heavily damage if not destroy even the most powerful of warships.
"Brother," Gary Doral said hesitantly, interrupting Jack Cavil's thoughts.
Jack Cavil sneered at Gary, taking in his brother's unkempt appearance.
"You look like hell. Although, given that I told you to succeed or not return at all, your looks are the least of your concerns," Jack Cavil said.
"I may not have destroyed an arguably equal force with the baseships you gave me and the Adonis class ships to overpower the Prometheus and Nova in Turner's fleet, but I did destroy several of their ships," Gary Doral said stonily.
"My directive was quite clear: kill them all. Short. Simple. The freakin' centurions can understand the concept! Should I have sent one of them instead?" Jack Cavil said venomously.
Gary Doral stood silently, letting Jack vent.
"Nothing to say? Good. Nothing is acceptable to excuse what's happened. I'll overlook you're failures for now because I have need of you, despite your gross incompetence. As we speak, the other traitorous Cylon models still surviving in your fleet are being eliminated. Not many of us remain, and you have had some success even with your gross failures, so for now you're services are needed," Jack Cavil said, looking at Gary with disgust, looking forward to the day when he would not be as necessary. Damn the rebels for the day they made someone like Gary necessary!
"I see," Gary Doral said quietly.
Jack smirked at Gary, relishing in his subservient attitude, "With your fleet rejoining us and the last of our units returning from the colonies, our fleet is finally gathered. Every resource we have is here, making ready to be brought to bear on the colonials. Not long from now, our newest ships will be ready and we'll have sufficient numbers to finish things once and for all."
"Such confidence, considering the rebels have likely joined our enemies. And they still have a large fleet, not to mention their defenses around their colony, including at least that we know of many planetary defense satellites from the colonies," Gary Doral said.
"Oh I have no doubt the rebels went running to the colonials for safety. And it's to our benefit if they did; better to wipe them all out in one stroke than have to deal with searching for them," Jack Cavil said.
"I'm assuming we don't much of a choice but to follow your crazed planning, so never mind about reason and logic then," Gary Doral said.
Jack Cavil's eyes narrowed at Gary, "That's right. You do not have a choice."
"I wouldn't worry about the colonials so much. My latest plan sent a little present their way. A weapon that will undoubtedly have removed a thorn in our side, and removed from the equation one of the best leaders of the colonials' military; Adama. It's a shame we couldn't target more of them in the same way, but it is what it is," Jack Cavil said.
Jack Cavil turned away from Gary, not expecting or seeking an answer from him.
Soon Admiral Stryker, you will pay. You and all those you've 'saved' will die in flames. And I'll be the one lighting the match.