Author Topic: BATTLESTAR URANTIA - nuBSG FanFic Series  (Read 13084 times)

Offline MelekOmega

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« on: October 18, 2009, 10:00:58 PM »
Hi, all...

I've been gone for a long time, but I'm back now, and ready to offer up my latest story for you all to (hopefully) enjoy.

As you may recall, I am the author of the following stories here:

- "Star Trek: Entomalians"

- "Star Trek: A New Beginning"

- "Star Trek: United We Stand"

- "Star Trek: Distant Star - Waking Nightmares"

I am going to be offering you something new with my latest work... a nuBSG fanfic series, entitled "Battlestar Urantia". Below is a bit of information on the premise, setting, and basic plot outline...

"Battlestar Urantia" is a fanfic series that adheres STRICTLY to established on-screen nuBSG canon, yet also tells a story that is both totally nuBSG, and totally unique. The story blends elements from both TOS BSG, nuBSG, "RAZOR", "Revelations", and "Daybreak". All that having been said, this series was written PRIOR to "The Plan", so it may not follow the canon set forth by that movie. But aside from that, I tried VERY hard to make this story look, feel, sound, and taste exactly like the nuBSG TV series. It will be up to you to determine if I succeeded.

The Battlestar Urantia herself, is a Raven-Class Battlestar, larger than the Galactica, but smaller than the Pegasus. Like the Mercury-Class Battlestars, the Urantia has upper and lower flight pods, on each side. The story begins in much the same way that "RAZOR" began... with the Urantia docked at the Picon Fleet Shipyards, during the first wave of the Cylon attack. Just as the Pegasus did in "RAZOR", the Urantia initiates an open-ended FTL jump, to escape destruction by the Cylons. However, when the ship emerges from FTL, they find that they are very, very, far from the Twelve Colonies.

The Commander decides to set course back toward Colonial space, with the intention of gathering up whatever Colonial forces remain, for a final, all-out campaign against the Cylons. Nobody aboard the Urantia knows how badly the Colonies were hit, nor do they know that President Adar is dead. So, the ship, and the twelve small civilian ships that were able to jump out with her, set course back to Colonial space. However, on the way, they encounter surprises...

The Urantia and her small fleet encounter worlds with humans on them, far from the Twelve Colonies. Upon contact, it is learned that these worlds were settled by humans who were once a part of the 13th Tribe's caravan to Earth. Apparently, the journey to Earth was taking so long, that some groups of people lost patience, and elected to set down at the first world they could find, and establish themselves there. When some members of these new human colonies hear about Urantia's voyage back to the home of humanity, they elect to join the ship, for the remainder of the trip back. Thus, the Urantia amasses her own ragtag fleet.

The story draws a LOT of inspiration from the story of the Mayflower pilgrims, and at times, has a noticeable Celtic influence, but one that I think works well within the nuBSG setting. Indeed, the story's "Urantia Compact" document is a direct homage to the "Mayflower Compact" document. The story is broken down into 4 "seasons", and there are a total of 13 "episodes" in the series. I will begin posting it by the end of the week, and very much hope you will enjoy it. Thank you.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #1 on: October 21, 2009, 10:00:08 PM »

Created, Developed, & Written By: MelekOmega

Based Upon "Battlestar Galactica" Created By: Ronald D. Moore & David Eick

Original "Battlestar Galactica" Created By: Glen A. Larson


--- --- ---

The Cylons were created by Man.

They were created to make life easier on the Twelve Colonies.

And then the day came when the Cylons decided to kill their masters.

That day is today.


The bright noontime Sun filtered through the lush green trees that lined both sides of the Caprica City street, as the city's PA system played the Colonial Anthem loud and proud, for the whole city to hear, as row after row of Colonial banners hung from the street poles, gently fluttering in the breeze, over the assembles masses of citizens who had gathered here for the Colonial Forces Day Parade.

As the proud Colonial Anthem played, a group of Colonial officers passed by, followed by a couple Landrams, as the next parade group began to approach...

The citizens began to look in the direction of the next group, down the street, as the area was filled with the sounds of dozens upon dozens of heavy metal clanking sounds, accompanied by sounds that resembled a medium-pitch drone, almost like a robotic dove.

As the next group grew nearer, the crowd reacted with looks and gasps of awe, as a large unit of Cylon Centurions came marching proudly down the street, holding their massive rifles in perfect parade formation, as their shiny chrome armor gleamed in the sunlight. Suddenly, the lead Cylon stopped, promting the others behind it to stop as well. The lead Cylon was different than the others. This Cylon had shiny golden armor.

The citizenry grew silent, as all eyes watched the Cylons with utter fascination, wondering what the shiny robots were going to do next.

The gold leader Cylon faced from side to side for a moment, taking in the sight of the gathered masses, as its red scanning light roved from left to right, making a loud droning sound. Finally, after a long silence, the golden robot spoke, filling the area with its loud and booming metallic voice.

"Present arms!" it commanded.

Instantly, all the other chrome Cylons raised their rifles in aim, with perfect robotic precision, as in unison, they all replied to the leader's order.

"By your command!" they all called out.

This brought a round of enthusiastic applause from the public, as everyone began to clap and cheer, in awe of the what the Cylons could do. They could never have anticipated what would come next...

The gold leader Cylon took one last look to his left, before giving the next order to his Centurions.

"Exterminate!" he called out.

Before anyone realized what was about to happen, every Cylon, the gold leader included, moved to aim their rifles at a given target, and instantly opened fire, shooting at the thousands of citizens gathered at the sides of the street, as instantly, the masses began to scramble, running for thier lives, as the people yelled and screamed in terror, as the sounds of screaming and dying humans was joined by the sounds of Cylon gunfire.

For minutes, the carnage continued, as the Cylons relentlessly hunted down the humans to the very last, until the street was littered with the fallen bodies of hundreds of human men, women, and children, as the now bullet-ridden Colonial banners fluttered in the breeze.

Finally, all the humans had been killed, and one of the chrome Centurions stepped into view, and addressed the gold leader.

"All human targets have been exterminated. By your command." it reported, as it again faced away from the gold leader, and looked in another direction, as its red scanning light moved to and fro.


Episode One - "Leap of Faith"

The gray fog was thick and heavy, as it blanketed everything in sight, including the dense forest in the foreground. The trees of the forest were silhouetted dark gray forms, in the thick mist. Only one thing broke the fog... a single wash of red light, that roved from left to right, washing over everything in sight, as it moved from side to side. Suddenly, the sounds of leaves rustling could be heard, from the depths of the forest.

As the rustling sounds grew closer, a shadowy form emerged from the forest, and into the open. It was a man. It was an archer.

The man looked around with caution, as if on alert. Finally, the archer reached for an arrow, and placed the arrow upon his bow, preparing to launch the projectile. As he positioned the arrow, he brought both bow and arrow up in aim, aiming towards the sky.

Finally, he let go, and the arrow sprang free from the bow, sailing with great speed up into the thick fog of the sky, vanishing into the mists.

Suddenly, at the very spot where the arrow had vanished, the fog was broken, and the clouds parted, in a prefect circle, revealing a clear nighttime starscape.

As the many stars in the night sky slowly twinkled, one star in particular, began to surge in brightness, almost as if it had gone supernova, as its light filled everything, enveloping the entire vista in brilliant white light.


The sound of a man gasping was heard, from within the total darkness, as suddenly, a table lamp was activated, illuminating a man's hand, now resting on the nightstand, as the owner of the hand slowly woke from a restless night's sleep.




Wearily, the man removed his hand from the nightstand, and began to get up in his bed, bringing his hands to his face, to wipe the sweat and sleep away, as he looked down to the floor.

The man removed his hands, revealing the face of a worn and tested man... an officer who had seen many things in his life and his career. His face held valleys of wrinkles and pockmarks, and his eyes were tired. His once-black hair was now sporting streaks of gray in places. He glanced over at the wall clock, and at the sight of the current time, let out a long sigh, as he looked to the floor.

"Frak." he whispered to himself, as slowly, he got up from his bed, and reached for his thin-framed glasses, as he began to walk towards the head, to shower and get dressed.


The mighty Raven-Class Battlestar sailed through space, as Vipers flew CAP alongside the massive vessel.


Commander Tyler Standish walked through the long corridor leading to the CIC, as a few crewmembers passed by him, pausing for a moment to salute him, as he returned their salutes, as he made his way to the CIC.

Commander Standish had commanded the Urantia for many years now, but somehow he still felt awkward around the regular crewmembers. Ever since someone had pointed out that he bore a striking resemblance to one Commander William Adama, there had been a running joke in the fleet that Standish and Adama were twins. Tyler Standish never appreciated that joke, and was quite put off by it. He was his own man, and he disliked being compared to someone else. He may resemble Adama, and his command style and personality might be similar, but he was not Adama... he was Tyler Standish.

Finally, he reached the hatch to CIC, and paused in front of it, as the Marine on guard looked to the Commander, saluting him.

"Sir!" the Marine greeted.

"Good day, Jonski." Standish softly replied, as the Marine opened the door for him.

All eyes looked to Standish, as he entered the command center of the mighty Battlestar Urantia, looking at the crew busy at work on all four levels of the CIC deck, as the large DRADIS cluster hung over the command table, filling the room with its ghostly whining sound, as the XO looked up at Standish, saluting.

"Commander on deck!" the XO announced, as everyone paused, and stood at attention, saluting Standish.

"As you were." Standish replied, as he arrived at the command table, standing beside his XO.

"You're up early, Tyler... trouble sleeping?" the XO asked.

"You could say that." Standish replied, softly, as he began to look over SITREP reports on the table.

"That's the third time this week... sure you don't want to try and get some rest again?" the XO gently asked.

"I'll be fine... just need some coffee." Standish began, looking to the XO. "What's new?" he asked.

"We're in Picon space... on final approach to the Picon Fleet Yards. The Itu Janal is due to jump in in about fifteen minutes, with our new tyluim supply. And you had a message from the Battlestar Celestia... Commander Chermak reports that the yard teams have finished the systemps upgrade on his ship, and are ready for us, when we dock." the XO reported.

Standish looked over the paper containing the note, and offered a small smile, as he looked to the XO.

"Very well... begin taking our own network offline. Let me know as soon as we're docking." Standish stated, as he gathered up a few documents, and placed them in a manila folder, tucking it under his arm.

"Aye, Sir. Going somewhere?" the XO asked.

"Yeah... I'm goin' to get me some frakking coffee. You've got the deck." Standish replied with a small smile, as he began to walk away, leaving the XO to look after him.

"Aye, Sir." the XO said, as he turned back to face the command table, glancing up at the DRADIS, and sighing.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #2 on: October 22, 2009, 03:58:54 PM »



The sounds of crews working on various Vipers and Raptors filled the vast hangar deck, as Commander Standish walked down the steps to the deck floor, a cup of coffee in his left hand. As he reached the main floor, the Deck Chief spotted him, and stopped to salute.

"Commander on deck!" he called out, as everyone else puased and also offered a salute.

"Carry on." Standish replied, as he returned the salute, nodding to the Chief, as he walked towards a line of twelve old Mk. II Vipers. These were not standard Colonial Vipers, however...

These Mk. II's were painted in black and gold, and together, comprised Urantia's performance air squadron, known as the "Starblazers". From time to time, the Starblazers would participate in a Colonial air show, to show the public what the Viper pilots were capable of, and what wonders they could perform with their planes. The next air show was only two weeks away, on Virgon, and Urantia's CAG had been spending all of her off-duty hours in the hangar bay, preparing the old Mk. II's for their next performance.

Commander Standish paused in front of the first Mk. II, taking a drink from his coffee, as the person working underneath the craft suddenly realized that someone was standing over her, and began to appear from under the Viper, looking to the Commander.

"Frak... Sir... how long have you been standing there, watching me?" she asked.

The woman was quite young, and had a tomboyish quality to her. She wore long black hair, that fell to just below her shoulders. This was Urantia's CAG, Grae Azaire. She looked to the Commander in a way that told him she was playing with him.

"Good morning, BatCat." Standish replied, using her callsign. "What's the word?" he asked.

"All these old birds are ready to go, Sir... just this one frakking guidance system is frakking with me for half the night. If the Chief would spare an extra set of hands to help me, I'd probably have been done by now." she said.

"I'll talk to the Chief." Standish said, taking another sip of coffe, as he offered a small smile, as he looked over to the other side of the bay, where the newest arrivals were... a row of twenty neatly parked Mk. VI Vipers. "What about them... have the pilots all had a chance to take them out on CAP yet?" he asked.

"Aye... they're here for refueling... they were out two shifts ago. Nice birds... if only our other birds ran as smoothly." Grae replied.

"Very well." Standish began. "I'll let you get back to work. Don't forget you have CAP in five hours... make sure you get cleaned up before then." he added.

"Aye, Sir." Grae replied, offering a quick salute, as Standish walked away.

As Grae began to walk back under her Viper, she turned, as she heard the Commander's voice, shouting out to the Chief...

"Chief! An extra set of hands over there!" Standish shouted, firmly.

"Aye, Sir!" the Chief called out, in reply.

The exchange made Grae smile, as she once again ducked under the nose of the Viper, to get back to work.


In space, the mighty ship continued on through space, along with the Viper CAP, as in the far distance, a flashring of pure golden light appeared, spitting a small tanker vessel into normal space.


The small utilitarian ship began to fire bursts of its thrusters, as it began to orient itself to line up with the mammoth Battlestar ahead of it.


The form of the Battlestar Urantia loomed large ahead of the ship, through the row of Bridge windows, as the Captain of the ship picked up the phone, activating the ship-to-ship comm.

"Battlestar Urantia, this is the tylium vessel Itu Janal. We are on approach vector on your lower port side. Request clearance for entry into lower port bay. Please advise." the Captain stated.


A group of three Mk. VII Vipers flew from the Urantia, towards the Itu Janal, as the radio reply from Urantia came through...

"This is Urantia Actual. Request acknowledged, Itu Janal. Begin final approach procedures to lower port bay. Our birds will escort you in. Welcome to Urantia. Actual out." the man's comm voice declared.



A lone flight deck crewman in an EVA suit held up two cones of light in his hands, as he began to guide the large Itu Janal into the hangar bay, as a single Landram drove ahead of the tylium ship, flashing yellow lights from a lightbar atop the vehicle, to warn anyone present to clear the way for the ship, as the three escort Vipers sailed over the Itu Janal, and continued on, until they departed the flight pod, through the forward entrance, once again heading out into open space.


The large ship began to approach the sprawling orbital complex that was the Picon Fleet Yards, as a pair of Vipers from the shipyard flew towards and past the Urantia, querying her. As the Urantia drew closer, a single Valkyrie-Class Battlestar could be seen, docked at the yard... the Battlestar Celestia, BSG-77.

As the Urantia sailed by, en route to her berth, in the far distance behind the ship, a set of three FTL flashrings appeared, as three Cylon Basestars emerged from FTL.

Instantly, the central Basestar launched a pair of missiles, as the deadly projectiles shot through space, vast smoky white contrails behind them, as the two missiles shot overhead of the Urantia, and raced toward the Battlestar Celestia, striking the ship with full force, as the ship instantly began to break in two, across the midsection.


Commander Standish and the XO looked up to the DRADIS, as the Condition One alarms automatically came on, blaring throughout the deck, as the DRADIS proximity alarms now sounded.

"What the frak?" Standish called out.

"Sir! Multiple DRADIS contacts! Looks like Cylon Base Ships, Sir! Missiles inbound... Celestia's been hit! They came out of nowhere, Sir!" the Officer of the Watch reported, looking to Standish and the XO.

Standish's eyes grew wide, as he looked at the DRADIS display, showing the three blips that represented the Cylon Basestars.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #3 on: October 23, 2009, 03:49:52 PM »



The deck was suddenly rocked by a weapons impact, as Standish turned to face the Officer of the Watch, a young blonde woman, who looked to him with an urgent expression on her face.

"Cylon missiles! They're launching Raiders!" she called out.

"Launch Vipers! If it can fly, I want it in the air!" Standish replied, firmly. "Bring us about, course two-three-five carom four-nine... expose our starboard side to the Cylons! All gun batteries, target the junction point between the two saucers!" he called out, looking back at the DRADIS.

"What saucers, Sir?" the Officer of the Watch called back, as Standish looked to her with a look of puzzled concern.


The male pilot gave his thumbs up to the Control Officer, and with a sudden burst of speed, the Viper shot through the long launch tube, until it broke free into open space, and the starfield began to quickly pan around, as the craft came into position, just as the guns and cannons of Urantia erupted to life, sending a vast twinkling stream of ammunition tracers into the sky, heading for the lead Cylon Basestar.


As the Viper shot up into the sky, surrounded by ammunition tracers and flak bursts from both Urantia and the Picon Fleet Yards, the rest of Urantia's Vipers now entered into view around the lead Viper, as well as Vipers from the shipyard, as the entire group of Vipers raced towards a wall of oncoming black clawlike Cylon Raiders.


The Viper pilot opened fire on the oncoming Raiders, as did the other Vipers in the large battle group, as the first wave of Raiders raced past the formation of Vipers, to come about for another pass. As the pilot flew his Viper ever onward, the next group of Raiders began to draw near, and the lead Raider lifted up a black glass "visor", as a bright red scanning light erupted to life, moving from left to right.

As soon as the scanner began to move, the pilot looked to his right, to see a group of Mk. VII Vipers all losing power, as they began to drift off-course. Just then, the oncoming Cylon Raiders angled up, and launched multiple volleys of missiles, which began to streak towards the helpless Mk. VII's with smoky white contrails, until each missile found its target, and every Mk. VII Viper exploded apart.

"NO!" the pilot called out, as he activated his intercom.

"All Vipers, this is Firefox... the Cylons are jamming our advanced avionics! Switch to manual control, and take your CNP's offline!" he called out.


The mighty Battlestar continued to unleash everything it had at the Cylon ships, filling the starscape with thousands of ammunition tracers and flak bursts, as another Cylon missile found its way to Urantia's hull, slamming into the ship with full force, producing an explosion on the ship's midsection, just above the port flight pods.


The ship was jolted hard by the impact of the Cylon missile, and the crew braced themselves on whatever they could hold, as the XO looked to Standish.

"Sir, if the Cylons can disable our CNP..." the XO began, as Standish cut him off.

"The only reason we're still here is because our network is down." Standish began. "Tell the Deck Crew to get those old Mk. II's up there... jam some ordinance into them, and get them into the fight!" he added, as the XO nodded, rushing away to carry out the Commander's order.


The Deck Chief and Grae gently guided the nose of the old Mk. II Viper in the direction of the launch tube, with the help of a few other deckhands.

"C'mon! Hurry it up! We need these things in the air, like right frakking now!" the Chief called out.

"Frak me..." Grae began. "This can't be real... these things haven't seen combat in forty years." she added.

"Well, they're about to." the Chief replied.


Commander Standish looked up, as the Officer of the Watch called out some new information.

"Sir! The Mk. II's are in the tubes!" she reported, as Standish looked to her.

"Launch! Launch them all!" he ordered.


One by one, the old Mk. II Vipers began to shoot out from Urantia's launch tubes, and fired their afterburners, racing towards the raging dogfight already taking place nearby.



From her canopy windows, Grae "BatCat" Azaire could see the awesome amounts of ammo tracers and flak explosions, as the second Cylon Basestar fired off another five missiles, which raced foward with long contrails, as they flew over the Urantia, and struck full force, into the Picon Fleet Yards, destroying the entire shipyard, as multiple explosions erupted all over the complex, blowing it apart.

As she angled her Viper about, she could see the full degree of carnage the Cylons were inflicting...

The mighty Battlestar Urantia was holding firm in front of the large blue globe of Picon, surrounded by flak explosions and cannon fire, as at the same time, multiple nuclear explosions began to dot the surface of Picon, as numerous rings of nuclear destruction began to expand out from each explosion.

Grae suddenly felt sick in her stomach, as if she was about to vomit. Finally, she activated her intercom.

"Urantia, this is BatCat. The Cylons... they're... they're nuking Picon... I repeat... they're nuking Picon. Multiple nuclear explosions sighted on the planet's surface." she somberly reported.



The crew and Standish all paused for just a second, to absorb the gim reality of Grae's words, as Standish looked around his CIC deck, as another weapons hit jolted the room, and his crew reacted. He looked up to the third level, where his XO was busy assisting someone.

"Colonel!" Standish shouted out, as the XO looked to him. "We're getting the frak outta here! Prepare the ship for FTL jump!" he called out, as the XO nodded.

The XO began to move to carry out the Commander's orders, just as a doubly powerful jolt swept across the ship, and consoles exploded. The force of the impact caused the XO to loose his balance, and he fell backward, over the edge of the third level, falling to the CIC floor with a yell, as a horrified Standish and crew looked on.

"COLONEL!" Standish shouted, as the Officer of the Watch rushed over to try and help the man, but it was too late... the XO was dead.

The Officer of the Watch looked up to Standish, and shook her head, as Standish's eyes grew wide.

Standish had to act, and act fast. The situation was degenerating rapidly. The Picon shipyard had been destroyed, along with the Battlestar Celestia, almost every Mk. VII Viper had been wiped out, Picon was being destroyed, and he just lost his XO. For all he knew, he was on what could well be the last surviving Battlestar. He looked around the room, taking in the sight of his people working through the chaos of blaring alarms, fire, and weapons impacts. Finally, he looked back to his Officer of the Watch.

"We're still jumping out of here!" he began. "Don't watse time calculating... just find a set of coordinates, and transmit them to every FTL-capable ship in the area, and tell them to evac with us, if they can!" he ordered, as the blonde woman got up, and raced to her station to work on the order.

"Aye, Sir!" she called out, as Standish lifted the CIC phone from the cradle, and activated the intercom.

"This is Urantia Actual, to all Colonial units... we're preparing for a combat jump... all Vipers, return to ship! Repeat, ALL Vipers, return to ship, right frakking now!" he instructed, as he set the phone down, looking back up at the DRADIS.


The large group of remaining Vipers broke formation, and made a mad dash for the flight pods of Urantia, arriving with hard landings on the various flight decks.



As Standish's eyes remained glued to the DRADIS, the Officer of the Watch called out some information.

"Sir! All Vipers are back on board! And I have a set of coordinates!" she reported.

"JUMP!" Standish called out.

The Officer of the Watch's finger pressed down on the FTL button.


In space, the mammoth Battlestar was enveloped on all sides by flak explosions and ammunition fire, as the three Cylon ships unleqashed a volley of five missiles, which came hurtling towards the Urantia, along with a squadron of Cylon Raiders.

Suddenly, a wash of pure golden light swept over the Urantia, and the ship was vanished from view, by the FTL flashring, just as the five missiles and Raider squadron shot through the space that had just been occupied by a Battlestar.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #4 on: October 29, 2009, 11:46:33 AM »


With a brilliant flash of golden light, the tranquility of deep space was shattered, and the mighty Battlestar Urantia emerged from FTL, into open space, in a slow drifting roll.


All eyes were on the DRADIS, as gradually, blip after blip appeared, until there were thirteen new contacts, and the Officer of the Watch made her report to Standish.

"Sir, thirteen new contacts... all with Colonial transponder codes. Looks like they're civilian ships, Sir. Beginning to get identification on them... got it!" she began, as she recited the names of the new arrivals. "We've got the Oceana Zephyr, Itu Janal, Pan Galactic 22 and 840, Itania Express, Oasis Traveler, Speedwell, Tahat Meru, Jaht Bhatal, Arbella, Twilight Star, Planet Express, and the Absynthe Sunset." she reported, as Standish gazed at the blips on the DRADIS.

"They're almost all passenger liners." Standish said aloud, but mostly to himself.

"Aye, Sir... the Itu Janal and the Jaht Bhatal are tylium ships... the others are all starliners." the Officer of the Watch reported, as she looked down to her screen, before looking back up at the Commander, with concerned eyes. "And, Sir... we've jumped away from the combat zone, but I don't know where we are now... it'll take some time to establish a stellar fix." she stated, as Standish turned to face her.

"Any sign of the Cylons?" Standish asked, as she worked her panel for a moment, before looking back up to him.

"No, Sir." she stated.

Commander Standish nodded in silent resignation of the situation, as he looked to the ground with a sigh, before looking back up, at his crew.

"Very well." he began. "We'll use this time to get oriented, and effect repairs. Contact the civilian ships... tell them to assume a holding pattern, and await further instructions... tell them I will be making an announcement soon. In the meantime, try and figure out where the frak we are." he said, as he began to walk out of CIC.


The ship sailed slowly through the depths of unknown space, as the small civillian fleet maintained position behind the Battlestar.


The Commander sat at his desk, some papers before him, as well as a glass of brandy. He took a drink, and grimaced at the strength of the drink, as he picked up one of the papers, as a blonde woman stood with her arms behind her back, in front of his desk... it was the Officer of the Watch.

"I just want you to know, I was impressed with how quickly you snapped into action, when the situation was degenerating into chaos, but you kept your cool... you did your job, and you focused on the task at hand. That is what I need... I need a cool head, in a pressure situation... someone who can cut through all the noise, and get the job done." Standish said, as he now produced a black box, and slid it over to her on the desk. "So... what I want to know now, is... D'anna Biers... will you be my new XO?" he asked, as the woman reached for the box, and opened it up, regarding the sight of the XO's pips.

D'anna looked to Standish, a look of shock and surprise on her face, as she smiled, taking the box, and holding it close to her.

"Yes... yes, Sir... I will. I'm honored. Thank you." she said.


Offline Juvat

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« Reply #5 on: October 29, 2009, 01:53:57 PM »
Nice little touch at the end there, but would it be D'Anna Biers?  Didn't the humanoid Cylons who were dispersed throughout the fleet have different names?  Take the Sixes for example: There's Natalie Faust, Gina Inviere, Lida and Sonja, not to mention Caprica.
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Offline e of pi

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« Reply #6 on: October 29, 2009, 02:20:45 PM »
Nice little touch at the end there, but would it be D'Anna Biers?  Didn't the humanoid Cylons who were dispersed throughout the fleet have different names?  Take the Sixes for example: There's Natalie Faust, Gina Inviere, Lida and Sonja, not to mention Caprica.

Yeah, it'd be something else. The question is how to let us know, then, that she's another version of the D'Anna Biers model without simply saying "she's a Cylon" in the text.

Offline Juvat

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« Reply #7 on: October 29, 2009, 08:57:08 PM »
That was why I figured he had used that specific name.  Of course, right now he could hide the fact that there are Cylons interspersed throughout this fleet.  That might be a good route to take regarding any future appearances by the humanoid Cylons. :)  Just a thought.
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Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #8 on: October 29, 2009, 11:51:08 PM »

I was going to use another name, until I saw "The Plan", and noticed that all the Simon's were still called Simon, lol. BTW, I'm SO relieved that "The Plan" didn't contradict anything in this story... so my claim that the story adheres to canon is still valid.

Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #9 on: October 31, 2009, 11:43:19 AM »


The ship sailed slowly through the depths of unknown space, as the small civilian fleet maintained position behind the Battlestar.


The crowd of people was overwhelming, filling the room to the brim, all the way to the doorway, and the Commander's desk was obscured by a sea of legs, as people shouted over each other.

The Captains and some of the civilians from the surviving colonial ships had come on board Urantia, to speak to the Commander, and see what was going to happen now. They wanted to know what the next order of business would be.

Commander Standish sat at his desk, looking at the crowd, and decided he had heard enough.

"That's enough! Quiet! All of you!" he shouted out, as the crowd gradually hushed to a murmur, then total silence. "I know you are all confused... afraid... looking for answers. So are we. And I will tell you what I can about the situation so far. But I need for you all to remain calm... nothing will be served by shouting, or getting excited." he said, as the group looked to him.

One of the Captains called out to the Commander.

"I heard a report that the Cylons had attacked ALL of the Colonies... every world!" he said, with grim awe.

"I heard that the whole fleet was taken out... all the Battlestars!" another civilian added.

Unbeknown to the Commander, or the two Marines guarding the doorway entrance, Captain Grae Azaire, the Urantia's CAG, was standing near the doorway, listening in on the goings-on inside the Commander's cabin. When she heard those comments, she felt a numbness inside, as if she could no longer feel anything... she felt distant... removed. How she wanted to feel sorrow for those who had been lost, but could not find the emotions inside her.

She quickly left the area, briskly walking away, through the corridor. She came to the end of one part of the corridor, which held an Officer's Head, and went inside, locking herself inside one of the stalls. Once inside, she anxiously fumbled for her knife, finally securing it in her fingers, and pulled it out from her pants pocket, and with a deep breath, brought the blade to her left wrist, and closed her eyes, looking up, as she dug the blade into her skin, slicing the skin, and allowing the warm blood to well up from within her.


The Commander held fast at his desk, as the questions continued. Finally, he got up from his chair, and looked directly at the crowd of people.

"Look... all we know for certain, as that the Cylons did indeed break the armistice. They launched a full-scale attack on the Picon Fleet Yards, and the Battlestar Celestia was totally destroyed. We do not have confirmed reports of how far the Cylons were able to push through, in Colonial space, nor can we confirm the loss of the Battlestar fleet. I would prefer to operate based upon fact, rather than rumor. We should assume the war is still ongoing, and that Colonial forces are still engaging the Cylon forces." Standish began. "For now, gather all your reports and information... all your communications between ships... begin to patch together a picture of what has taken place, and use that to determine what information is genuine, and which is rumor. In the meantime, we should all be prepared for an extended stay on our respective ships... we are in unknown space, and are currently working to establish a stellar fix... as soon as we have one, we will inform you of a projected course back to the Colonies. Thank you." Standish added, hoping the group would disperse.

"What about food and water?" one civilian called out. "We have no agro ships in this fleet... what happens when our food supplies, and your rations run out?" he pressed.

Standish looked the man in the eyes, as he delivered his reply.

"I am hopeful we shall return to the Colonies before that happens... but in the event we should have to allow for that possibility, we will in the meantime be on the lookout for any planets that may contain suitable food and water. I will keep you all updated. Again, than you. That will be all." Standish added, now nodding to the two Marines, to escort the group out of his cabin.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #10 on: November 02, 2009, 05:57:38 PM »


The large Battlestar continued to lead the ragtag civilian fleet through unknown space, as one of the two Pan-Galactic ships, Pan-Gal flight 22, sailed alongside the Urantia, at close range, flanking the Battlestar.


The door to the main cabin opened, allowing Commander Standish to enter, as he began to walk through the isle, towards the back of the large luxury starliner, as on the way, the people in the seats looked to the Commander, as he walked by.

Finally, he reached the aft cabin of the ship, and was met by a Priest, sitting in a seat, across from another seat, that had been prepared for the Commander.

Upon seeing Standish, the Priest looked to him, and gestured for him to take his seat, which Standish reluctantly did.

"I want to thank you for agreeing to see me." Standish began. "I know you must have your hands full right now, Father...?" he asked.

"Father Cavil will do just fine, my child... and it's no trouble... heck, I would have been happy to come to you, on Urantia." Cavil began.

"I prefer to meet here... I don't want any rumors floating about the ship, about why the Commander feels the need to consult with a Priest." Standish explained.

"I understand, Commander." Cavil began. "So... why IS it that you feel the need to speak with me?"

Standish looked uncomfortable, as if he were trying to think about if this was a good idea or not. Finally, he decided to just spit it out.

"I've been having dreams... recurring dreams... and I'd like to know what they mean." he said.

"What kind of dreams?" Cavil asked.

"It's always the same." Standish began. "I'm in a forest... it's incredibly foggy... all I see is a roving wash of red light... and then a man emerges from the fog... he's an archer. I look at him. He looks at me... and then, he produces an arrow, and proceeds to shoot it up into the sky."

"And then what happens?" Cavil asked, as he rested his chin upon his interlaced hands, with steepled fingers.

"He shoots the arrow... and I watch it, as it soars into the sky... the arrow splits the fog, and a clear starry night is revealed. And then... the arrow... it strikes a star... and the star... explodes. It goes nova. Such a brilliant flash of light. Then the dream ends." Standish explained.

"Praise be to the Gods." Cavil began. "You have been blessed, my child... for the archer you see in your dreams, is Apollo... the one who pointed the 13th Tribe's path to Earth!"

"The what?" Standish asked.

"Have you not read the Book of the Word? Do you not declare faith?" Cavil rebuted.

"I don't subscribe to all that mythological stuff. I deal in hard facts." Standish replied.

Cavil now leaned towards the Commander, to add emphasis to what he was about to say.

"Commander... the 13th Tribe of Man left Kobol, on a voyage to a world called Earth. The Book of the Word says that the Arrow of Apollo points the way to Earth. Apollo has shown you a path to salvation, by coming to you, in this dream! He is revealing your destiny... to lead this fleet to salvation, by setting a course for Earth!" Cavil said, excited.

"And the red light?" Standish pressed.

"Obviously some kind of premonition that the Cylons would attack." Cavil replied.

Standish regarded Cavil for a long series of moments, before wearing an awkward look, and getting up from his seat, as Cavil also got up.

"Well, I thank you for your time, Father, but my destiny is not to embark on some mythical quest for an unknown planet... it is to lead this fleet back to the Colonies, and this ship back into battle against the Cylons, where we will finally put an end to this war of theirs that they began forty years ago." he said. "And that is what I intend to do."

Cavil just nodded, as he smiled.

"In any event, Commander... my door is always open to you... if you ever have anything you want to talk about, I'm here to listen." he said, as Standish nodded, and Cavil watched, as the Commander left the aft cabin.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #11 on: November 04, 2009, 12:12:50 PM »


The great ship continued to lead the fleet on its way back to the Colonies, as now a small number of Urantia's Vipers were flying CAP alongside the fleet, to ensure no Cylon problems would present themselves.


D'anna Biers handed Standish a handful of papers, as he took them, browsing through them.

"The final loss count for the Vipers and souls, Sir." she began. "We lost 7 of our modern Vipers, 1 Mark II, and the final tally for souls lost comes to sixty-five." she relayed.

"We got lucky." Standish said, looking through the papers. "One Viper made it out from the Picon Fleet Yard, and we were able to wrangle up almost an entire half of Celestia's birds. it could have been a lot worse." he added, as he now looked up to her, the light of the room reflecting in his glasses. "Begin to integrate those pilots into our own air group... have the CAG begin briefing them, ASAP... and tell her to also make them familiar with those old Mark II birds... until the techs can rip out the advanced avionics on the newer ships, those are all we have." he said.

"Aye, Sir." she began, as the Commander could tell that something else was on her mind.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Sir... Mister Hindri has informed me that he has found a trinary star system in the stellar charts that could be a waypoint towards the Colonies... he says there's a chance that from that star system, the Godhead Nebula can be seen... and if that proves true, we would have a fix from which to navigate our way back to Caprica." she said.

"Very good... instruct him to begin calculations for a series of FTL jumps to that system. And inform the fleet that I will be making a statement later this evening." he said, now returning his attention to the paperwork on his desk.


In space, the fleet continued on course, sailing through the void of space.

Inside the ship, Commander Standish walked to the Officer's Quarters, where his CAG's bunk was. he was going to hand-deliver the reports of the pilots from the  Battlestar Celestia.

When he got to her bunk, he saw her standing in front of it, holding a knife in one hand, and gazing at her left wrist with the other, which was bleeding through a fresh cut.

She almost did not notice him, but when she did, she was startled, and with a gasp of shock, she rushed to straighten up.

In a fast movement that she was unaware her commander possessed, he had her shoved up against the bulkhead with her knife pressing hard to keep her from struggling.

"What do you think you are doing?!" Standish demanded.

"You move fast for and old man." Grae said trying to be funny. Standish pressed the knife a little harder to her throat.

"Answer me."

Her features became sad as she said, "Please don't do this." Her young eyes conveyed so much pain that it tore at something inside him. Standish lowered the knife and took a step back.

"Why not? You were going to do it... so I ask you again... WHY?" he pressed, his voice angry.

"It takes away the pain." Grae's voice broke and she fell to her knee's as her body began to shake with silent sobs. Standish never would have seen himself doing this for anyone else, but he lowered himself to his knees, and put his hand on the young woman's shoulder, trying to offer some measure of comfort.

"We've all been through a lot." Standish began, his voice coming out soften than he thought was possible, under the circumstances. "But yet we survive... we are still here... still alive. And so it's not the end of the world." he said, getting up, as he straightened his uniform. "If you need someone to talk to, my door is open." he added.

Standish didn't wait for her reply he just got up and left her to think about his offer. He couldn't understand what made him offer to be an emotional sounding board for her but something in him compelled him to help her. Maybe it was some cruel twist of fate form Gods that he didn't believe in, but the damage was done and if she wanted hi help she would have to ask for it on her own.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #12 on: November 06, 2009, 11:43:16 AM »


The Battlestar proceeded on course, herding its flock of civilian ships along through the depths of space.

Inside the proud Battlestar, Commander Standish walked through a hallway, as his inner voice worked its way through the list of things that he had to do, that he was thinking about, in his mind.

He had just finished the "ceremony", that officially made the Celestia's surviving Viper pilots a part of Urantia's squadron, and now he was on his way to CIC, where he would address the entire ship, as well as the whole civilian fleet.

He also found himself thinking about what Cavil had said to him on the Pan-Galactic flight... that his dreams were an omen... a sign that he had been somehow chosen as a sort of... "pilgrim leader"... to lead his new flock to Earth... to safety, and to the 13th Tribe's new home. He did not believe in the scriptures, or the Book of the Word. When he was in high school, a pair of missionaries had presented him with a copy of the Book of the Word, and to be polite, he accepted it, and even thumbed through it a bit, but he was unimpressed with its content.

Standish was a man of fact. A military man. A simple man. He did not like the fact that some people felt such a driving need to foster a belief in a supernatural force, to create some semblance of order in their lives. He felt that anyone who truly wanted to, could create such order, by maintaining self-discipline, and a measure of frugality. One did not have to turn to superstitious beliefs.

Yet, here he was. He was far away from the Colonies of Man. in uncharted and unfamiliar space, with a fleet of ten civilian ships to look after, and be responsible for. Nobody had time to take any careful accounts of the comm traffic among the Colonies when the Cylons attacked... there was no telling how devastating the assault had been, or even if it was confined to Picon. Standish was holding out hope that the Cylons had met their doom, once they reached Caprica, the nexus and stronghold of the Colonial military. As a commander, he now had a choice... should he take what Cavil had told him, and tell the fleet that they were leaving their homes behind for good, and making way for Earth... a mythical planet, whom nobody even knew if it truly existed, or should he hold firm in his intention to return home, and make one last valiant stand?

Suddenly, he found himself standing in front of the doors to CIC, and after pausing for a sigh, he put all his inner voices aside, and cleared his mind, as he entered the command center of Urantia.

All eyes were on him, as he walked to the command table, where D'anna was waiting for him.

After a few moments, he looked up at the DRADIS, and then back down to the illuminated surface of the table. He then took off his glasses, folded them up, and placed them on the table's surface, as he kept looking downward. Finally, he looked around, to his XO... to his crew. He then turned back, and picked up the handset, and the intercom was activated, as he prepared to speak.

"Attention crew of Battlestar Urantia, and all ships in the civilian fleet. This is Urantia Actual. Four days ago, the Cylons launched a sneak attack on our home worlds, in particular, striking with force at Picon. During that time, this ship, and this fleet, was displaced from the Colonies, in an effort to escape destruction at the hands of the Cylons." he began, as now he began to turn to look around at his people. "We lost a lot of good men and women. But we are safe now. And we are here now. The question becomes now... what next? Where do we go from here? As military commander of this fleet, and of all the souls on this ship, it is my first duty to ensure the safety of those under my command. At the same time, Urantia is a military ship... and as a member of the military, it is also my responsibility... my job... to safeguard the lives of those living on the Colonies. That being the case, I am now formally announcing that we are at war. We do not know the full extent of the destruction the Cylons were able to visit upon our homes. But I am hopeful that the Colonial forces orbiting Caprica and Leonis were able to deal serious blows to the Cylon forces. So... I have decided to make a course back to the Colonies, and once there, mount a new offensive against the Cylons, and send those frakking toaster bastards back to the hell from where they came!" he continued. "In the meantime, we will be on the lookout for worlds with new food, and water, and new renewable sources of energies and power, so that we may maintain our voyage in a timely fashion, without any prolonged diversions. Come what may, we will make it through this. We will persist. We will survive. And we will go on, and never back down to the Cylons! I thank you all for your patience, and your cooperation. Thank you. Urantia out." he said, as he gently placed the handset back in its cradle.

After about a second, D'anna placed her hand on his shoulder, to show her support, and turned to the crew, and called out to them.

"So say we all!" she said.

Gradually, the crew began to nod their approval, and also began to utter the rallying line, as they began to clap in rhythm to the phrase.

"SO SAY WE ALL!" they chanted, over and over again, as Commander Standish turned to regard his people, loudly proclaiming their support for his cause, as he allowed a small smile to break to the surface of his face.

« Last Edit: November 06, 2009, 11:45:08 AM by MelekOmega »

Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #13 on: November 12, 2009, 07:08:21 PM »


The Battlestar proceeded on course, herding its flock of civilian ships along through the depths of space.

It had now been a full three weeks since the Cylon attack on the Colonies, and the crew of Battlestar Urantia was slowly getting settled and comfortable again, with their usual duty routines. Regular CAP's were now being flown over the civilian fleet, by the Viper squadrons, and so far, there had been no sign of the Cylons.

This was either good or bad.

If it was good, it meant that perhaps Urantia had jumped so far away from Colonial space, that the Cylons could not possibly find them. If it was bad, it meant that perhaps the Cylons were indeed somehow tracking them, or in the area... and were just waiting to strike.

The maintenance techs had long since completed the task of pulling out the advanced avionics on the newer Vipers, and had retrograded them to the older Mk. II standards. The old Mk. II Vipers that had comprised the Starblazers squadron, Urantia's astrobatic performance drill team, had since had their old show colors of silver and blue painted over to traditional Colonial white with red stripes, along with all the newer Vipers, and the salvageable planes from Celestia and Solaria.

Inside Urantia, Commander Standish walked through the hallway that led to CIC, looking over some reports, as a handful of people from the Itantia Express walked by him... he recognized them as flight crew, or "Flight Attendants", as civilian lingo would call them. Two were attractive women, one was a young man. They both paused as he came to their position, and stopped to salute him, as he returned the gesture.

"Good morning, Sir." the they said.

"Morning. How are things among the fleet?" Standish asked them.

"Well, Sir... now that things are falling into order, a lot of the passengers on the liners are a lot more calm. So far the only problems we've had, were with two cases of claustrophobia, but those two passengers were moved to the Providence." one of the women replied.

"Very good... continue to keep things organized... right now, our worst enemy is our own panic and sense of chaos." Standish said, as the group nodded, and resumed walking, as the Commander turned, to see the door to CIC.

He opened it, and walked in, to find the regular sight of his crew at work, and his XO at her post, as the whine of DRADIS monitors filled the room.

He walked over to D'anna, who was standing at the command table, and placed his papers down on the surface, as he looked to her.

"Mister Hindri's jump calculations for the course to the Godhead Nebula." Standish began. "He says it'll take at least ten jumps to make it to the nebula itself... about ten months worth of travel." he added.

Just as D'anna was about to reply, both officers were distracted by new readings on DRADIS, as Mister Hindri called out the information.

"Sirs! Reading multiple new contacts! Not reading Colonial signatures, but they are not reading as Cylon, either... they are varying sizes... some shuttle sized, others as large as our tylium refining ship." he said, as Standish and D'anna looked at the overhead DRADIS screens.

Finally, Standish reached for the handset, and picked it up, but held it to his chest as he issued orders to Mister Hindri first. "Launch alert fighters... have them make visual F-O-F identification." he said, as he now brought the phone up to his mouth.

"Attention, unidentified vessels... this is the Battlestar Urantia, please transmit your I.D. codes, and greeting message." he said.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Finally, after a whole minute had passed, the crackle of static filled the air, followed by the sound of someone picking up on the other end.

The crew listened intently, as the voice of a nervous middle-aged man filled the speakers. Standish squinted, as he tried to understand the man's language, nodding at the familiar sound of a few words, while trying to comprehend the rest. Finally, Mister Hindri spoke up.

"Sir... you're not gonna believe this, but I understand some of what they're saying... some of those words are the same as words from the Gemenese dialect... I think they are using a Gemenese-derivative language... from one of the older dialects I remember reading about in comprehension class... my family and I are from Gemenon, Sir. If you agree, I can send a return message, in a rough approximation of their language." he offered.

"Do it!" Standish ordered, as he waited for Mister Hindri to work.

Finally, after a full five minutes, Mister Hindri got his reply, and ran it through the linguistics program, and piped the message through the speakers,

"This is Captain Tyvek Harrington, of the petrium processor Tora Yendru, five months out of Emilon, to the ship identifying itself as the Battlestar Urantia... we are a private merchant ship, and mean no harm... repeat... we mean no harm... request permission to come alongside?" the man asked.

Standish looked to D'anna, both people wearing looks of confusion, as they silently mouthed the word "Emilon", as if asking a question. Finally, Standish gave his reply, speaking into the mouthpiece, as Mister Hindri typed the translation, in the background.

"This is Commander Tyler Standish, of the Battlestar Urantia, to the ship calling itself the Tora Yendru... we acknowledge your indication of peaceful intent... permission to come alongside granted. If you don't mind my asking... what... or where, is Emilon, and two... why are you in part speaking in Gemenese?" he asked. "Gemenon is one of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, and we are very far from Kobol."

The mention of the name "Kobol" provoked a fast response from the man on the other end.

"Um... you... did you say Kobol, Commander?" Harrington asked.

"Aye, I did." Standish replied.

"Gods... that is a name we haven't heard for a very, very, long time, Commander." Harrington began. "I think it best we talk in person... our ships are coming alongside your vessel now." he added.

"Understood. Urantia out." Standish said, as he placed the handset down, before turning to face D'anna in the eyes, a look of speculative puzzlement on his face.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #14 on: November 17, 2009, 03:20:42 AM »


The Battlestar sailed through space, her fleet of ten civilian ships now joined by a fleet of about thirteen new ships, most medium-sized, with an almost "ramshackle" look.

Viper patrols from Urantia sailed over the new incoming fleet, taking in the sight of the new arrivals.

Inside Urantia, a large group was assembled around a makeshift banquet table, in the Commander's cabin, as the Captain of the Jaht Batahl sat on one side, along with some other captains from the Emilon fleet. Commander Standish sat with his crew on the other side.

As the parties unfolded their napkins, and examined the plates of food and drinks that were being laid down before them, Commander Standish began to notice the clothing of the new arrivals... they looked "old"... very simple in style... IF the Urantia crew had known about Earth, they might describe the clothing as "pioneer" or "pilgrim" era... the women wore simple and conservative dress, and wore bonnets upon their heads, and the men wore rugged yet light and simple clothing as well, and wore hats. The very few military people that they could see, wore what could also in Earth terms, be described as "Napoleonic-era" naval attire. The uniforms were black, with elaborate trimmings, often in gold, and the hats were equally striking.

Finally, as things began to settle, Commander Standish opened up the lines of conversation, by addressing the Captain of the Jaht Batahl.

"So, Captain Harrington... you said that you have not heard the name Kobol in a very long time... what did you mean by that? Have your people visited the Colonies before?" he asked.

"Gods, no." Harrington began. "Rather the reverse... our ancestors left Kobol a very long time ago... left on a voyage to a world called Earth." he stated.

That remark caused Commander Standish to stop what he was doing, and look directly in the eyes of Captain Harrington.

"Earth..." Standish merely repeated.

"Aye... Earth... do you not know of our journey?" he asked.

"I have heard of it... but it is part of our faith... written in the Book of the Word... but it's not something I believe in." Standish began. "Nevertheless... here you are... humans, who share part of the Gemenese language... out here in the depths of unknown space. However... if, as you say, your people were heading to Earth... wherever that is... why are you here, and not there?" he asked.

This time, one of the military men took over, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, and setting it back on his lap, as he replied.

"Commander... I'm Captain Zender Kline, of the patrol cruiser Sal Caltanis. The original group that left Kobol, embarked upon a very long journey. Along the way, many groups began to show signs of frustration at the length of the journey, and some decided to separate from that Earthbound fleet, and put down roots along the way. The group that we are from, started the colony of Emilon." he said.

"I see." Standish said, as he took a drink of ambrosia. "So are there any other "colonies" nearby?" he asked.

"We know of only one... Ruion." Kline stated. "Our group of ships... we thirteen... we are actually leaving Emilon... almost everyone in this fleet is a religious refugee... pilgrims, if you will. They faced persecution on Emilon, so we are escorting them elsewhere. Our two military cruisers were assigned to protect them." he added.

"Protect them from what?" D'anna asked.

"Cylons?" Grae added.

"What?" Kline answered. No... we're not familiar with "Cylons", whatever those are... we are protecting them from anything out here that may possible pose a threat... anything that may attack them." he said.

"That would be Cylons." Standish said. "So, you're leaving your home world of Emilon... for where... where will you go?" he asked.

"Well... that, we don't really know... we assumed we'd settle on the first habitable planet we found, but now that we found you... know where you are from... if you're by any chance heading back towards Kobol... any chance you'd want us to tag along? We'd love to revisit the home of our ancestors."

At that comment, Standish could not but help share looks with both D'anna and Grae.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #15 on: November 24, 2009, 03:30:10 PM »


The mighty Battlestar continued on in space, now with an accompaniment of 23 ships, mostly civilian, but some military as well... the two Emilonian military cruisers.


Inside the room, Standish leaned back in his chair somewhat, ogling a glass of ambrosia in his hand, as he listened to Father Cavil speak to him, as the light from the lamp on his desk reflected in his glasses.

"So, you see, Commander... I have to humbly apologize, but it appears I was wrong, and you were right... I misinterpreted your dream... I still believe that the archer you saw WAS Apollo... but it was not Earth he was shooting his arrow at... it was Kobol! Apollo has sent you a divine sign... the exodus to Earth WAS real, and DID happen... there are humans out here, far from the Colonies, and you have been chosen, to gather them, and lead them back home to Kobol... it is your destiny, given to you by the Gods themselves!" Cavil said, enthused.

Standish took a drink, before again holding the glass in his hands, as he looked to Cavil.

"My decision to return to the Colonies is in no way religious... I plan to find whatever may be left of our fleet, and make a final stand against the Cylons. That is my motivation. While I have to maintain that i don't believe in anything written in the Book of the Word... I also have to acknowledge that the discovery of these Emilon people, and their statement that there is one other group, at a place called Ruion, forces me to cede that the exodus to Earth did take place. But I have to tell you, Father, that I'm a little uncomfortable with your vision of me as some sort of "pilgrim leader"... I am an officer in the Colonial Fleet... that Captain Kline... HE is the pilgrim leader... he's the one escorting those pilgrims from Emilon to wherever their destination is or was." he said.

"Have faith in the Gods, Commander... open yourself to the possibility that you are meant for something more... that this ship is where it is for a reason. Allow yourself to trust in the Gods... you may be surprised at what you come to find." Cavil said, as he slowly got up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Commander... I must retire now... it's getting a little late for me." he said, as he made his exit from the room.

As the door to Standish's cabin opened, to let Cavil out, the ship's CAG, Grae, was trying to make her entrance, and for an awkward second, the two people were in each others way, until Grae moved aside, to let Cavil out, as she then entered the room, and closed the door behind her.

Sheepishly, like a schoolchild that had been caught passing notes, she walked over to the Commander's desk, looking at him with sad eyes, that were full of uncertainty.

"Something I can do for you, Medusa?" Standish said, using her Viper callsign as her name.

"Sir... you said that if I... that if I wanted to talk..." she said, unsure of what she was really doing. She had never trusted anyone before, and the fact that the Commander came out of the blue, and offered to listen to her, was surprising, and refreshing.

"Then have a seat." Standish said, gesturing to the chair Cavil had been sitting in, as he leaned forward, to face her more directly. "Why do you do what you do... with the knife?" he asked her, gently and in a soft voice.

It... it helps take the pain away... for a while." she began. "I have trouble feeling... ever since I was a child... my parents... they... they abandoned me. They left me on Caprica, when I was ten, to fend for myself." she began. "Apparently, when I was young, they thought I was having temper problems, and they sought the advice of an Oracle... my folks were extremely religious... both from Gemenon. The Oracle said that if they just up and left me in the streets of Caprica, I would... "find my direction", whatever the frak that meant." she said.

Standish's features softened, and his face showed sympathy.

"I can't imagine how tough or frightening that must have been for you." he said.

"Sir... the things I had to do..." she went on, her voice now breaking, as she struggled not to cry. "The things I was forced to do. I could never place my trust in anyone... after what they did to me... how could I trust anyone again? And their betrayal... their abandonment left such a hurt, that I didn't want to feel anything anymore, until it got to the point where I couldn't feel anything anymore. The only emotion left that I could feel, was pain." she said, as a few tears ran down her cheek.

Standish got up from his chair, and walked over to behind Grae, and placed one hand on her shoulder, and used the other hand to wipe the tears from her cheek, as she turned around to look up at him.

"You don't have to do this anymore." he began. "I am here for you, and this ship is your home now... you are with people who care about you." he said, as she stood up, and embraced him, burying her face in his arms, as she cried.

"I don't want to do this anymore." she said.

"I know." Standish replied.

Finally, after a long moment, Grae had let all her tears out, and slowly, Standish allowed her to withdraw, as she reached into her pocket for her knife, and once she found it, she produced it, and held it out for Standish to take.

"Here." she began. "I don't want this anymore." she said, as she wiped the last tears from her face with her free hand.

The Commander reached for the knife, and accepted it, looking at it, as he then folded the blade back into the casing, and placed it in his own pocket.

Grae did not know what was making her open up to the Commander like this, but as she looked at him now, in the light of his own cabin, his face, his whole form, gave off an aura of fatherhood... he was looking at her with sympathy, trust, and even a form of love. He looked paternal... wise and proud, in his perfect and clean uniform, and shining badges. She was sure of one thing... something inside of her told her she could trust him, and this one time, she would take that chance, because here, finally, was a man who was opening his door and his heart to her, and offering a helping hand... and she was going to take it.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #16 on: December 14, 2009, 02:58:11 AM »


The small human military ship sailed alongside Urantia, which almost dwarfed the small ship, as the other twenty-one fleet ships sailed nearby.


In the modest-sized Meeting Room, Captain Zender Kline stood at a podium, along with Commander Standish, as both men faced the crowd that had gathered, which included a few talk-wireless reporters, from Pan-Galactic 22.

As the buzz of chatter subsided in the room, Captain Kline cleared his throat, and addressed the crowd.

"Hello, all... thank you for coming. Many yahrens ago, our ancestors from Kobol, left that world, and embarked upon a remarkable journey... a journey to a new home... a home called Earth. The journey proved long and difficult. As a result, many of those original pioneers elected to separate from the exodus fleet, and settle down on worlds along the way. Emilon, our own world, is one of those. In the yahrens since those early days, we have built our colony into a thriving society, which values hard work, faith, and the value of community. However, certain recent trends have spurred our particular group to again embark upon an exodus, this time, from Emilon. The rise of more liberal elements of our faith, have prompted the traditional conservative wing of our faith to look for a new home, amongst the stars. we were not sure exactly where that new home was to be." he began, now pausing, as he looked to Commander Standish, who nodded. "But, as is often the case in life, things can change within a matter of centons. For, quite unexpectedly, we have come across new friends... new family... the people of the Battlestar Urantia, and the ten civillian ships she shepherds. For these people as well, are the children of Kobol, and are also on a voyage back to that part of space... back to their home. Many things have changed since our ancestors left Kobol, and now that we have an opportunity to see it again, we are going to take it! Commander Tyler Standish, the Emilonian pilgrim fleet, under the authority of the military cruisers Sal Caltanis, and Maj Tauri, now formally makes request to join with your fleet, as you travel back towards Kobol... back towards home. Brothers of Man, returning home, after a long absence." he said, turning to Standish, and offering his hand.

Commander Standish allowed a small smile to creep to the surface of his lips, as he accepted Captain Kline's hand, and shook it.

"Captain Kline... your presence among the fleet is welcomed. Welcome to the Colonial fleet." Standish said, softly.

With those words, the small crowd began to applaud, as both men stood at the podium, facing the crowd of people.


The Battlestar, and its fleet of 22 ships, continued on course through space.


A modest table had been set by Standish, as he shared a dinner with Captain Kline, from the Sal Caltanis.

The men prepared to eat, as Standish broke the silence.

"I want to thank you again, Captain, for allowing us to visit Emilon... I normally would have been content to just let your fleet join us, but as you see, we have no agro ships in our fleet, so we face a danger of a food shortage. If there is a chance that anyone on Emilon can furnish us with food supplies, we are most thankful. And... of course, there is a security concern of mine." he said.

"Security concern?" Kline asked.

"The Cylons." Standish began. "The Cylons are robots... artificial intelligence, created by us, to ease life on our Colonies... but over 40 years ago, they turned on us, and began a bloody war, until an armistice was declared. It lasted until about a month ago... that's when the Cylons attacked our Colonies, and re-ignited a 40-year old war. They seem bent on the destruction of our species... so, that having been said... I am worried, that if the Cylons were to learn of two entire new planets, full of human life, that they might try to confront your peoples, and attack and kill you. Because of the danger of the Cylons, you will understand, if I ask others on Emilon to join the fleet... for their own protection." he added.

"But you said that your ship is very far from your Colonies." Kline replied.

"Aye, that is true... in fact, we don't know if the Cylons followed us, or even if they are out this far... but I prefer to stay on the side of caution." Standish said.

"Well, we'll do what we can to help the fleet, Commander... but the farms on Emilon are small, and family-owned... Ruion is much more of a large-scale agricultural planet, from what I've been told." Kline said.

"Have you ever been to Ruion?" Standish asked.

"Not directly... but about two yahrens ago, my ship was assigned to protect one of our petrium refining ships, that was on the outskirts of the Ruion system. It's a small system... only four planets. Ruion is a moon, of the second planet... a gas giant." he added, as he took another drink of ambrosia. "Mmm... this is good, Commander... what did you call it?" he asked.


"Mmm... yes... we have something similar in taste, color, and smell... but we call it brandy. I'm afraid only our two military ships have it in the fleet, because the pilgrims refuse to touch the stuff... they don't allow alcohol to be consumed, because it alters the natural mindset of the person who drinks it." he said.

"Hmmm." Standish began. "Sometimes, there is something to be said for that altered mindset... there are times that a nice glass on ambrosia has kept me from going mad." he said.

At that, Kline lifted his glass.

"Then let us drink... to new friends, and the shared journey ahead... may it bring us all closer together." he said, as Standish raised his glass as well, meeting the gesture.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #17 on: January 04, 2010, 11:27:38 PM »


The Battlestar, and its fleet of 22 ships, continued on course through space.


D'anna Beirs sat across from Father Cavil, as she listened to him talk to her. He was trying to make a point about the newly discovered humans from the 13th Tribe, and he was quite passionate about his argument.

"But nevertheless, this proves that there are more humans out here... "Children of the Gods", as it were... from Kobol itself. I still think we should follow the trail of these humans... so far, we know about two whole planets... Emilon, and Ruion." he said.

"So what... we divert how many resources out here... Raiders? Heavy Raiders? Entire Basestars?" D'anna asked.

"Yes... whatever it takes!" Cavil shot back. "This proves that we didn't finish the job, at the Colonies... we thought we wiped out humanity, but we didn't... the people in this fleet, and those on Emilon and Ruion show us that much. And for now... I have managed to make sure that Commander Standish keeps this ship on course back to the Colonies... so as we reverse our course, we can continue to seek out and find any more of these 13th Tribe separatists, and deal with them accordingly." Cavil said.

"How did you manage that?" D'anna asked back.

"That dream I told you the Commander had... about Apollo showing the way to Earth... as soon as we encountered those ships from Emilon... I jumped on it... I told our dear Commander that I had mis-interpreted his dream... it was not Earth he was being shown... it was Kobol. So now, he's content in the knowledge that he's doing the right thing, by steering the fleet back to the Colonies... and when the Battlestar Urantia arrives back at Caprica, she'll be met with the might of the Cylon fleet... which will finally finish the job, and take out Urantia, the civillian fleet, and any and all remaining members of the 13th Tribe... a clean sweep." Cavil said, using gestures to emphasize his point.

"I don't like attacking Urantia so soon... if Cylons show up now, just as the ship has escaped from the Colonies, Standish will think he's being followed, and that will put the fleet on constant alert... he'll make every effort to avoid jumping directly to new planets where humans are. For now, we have the locations of both Emilon and Ruion... what I would suggest, is that we send the occasional Basestar to "escort" or "direct" Urantia and the fleet along the course to the Colonies... that way, the attacks are spread out, and we continue to gain knowledge of new pockets of humanity." she said.

Her remarks made Cavil look at her in a somewhat new light.

"And you... it would not hurt, if you were to get closer to the Commander... he made you the XO of this ship, for Godssakes... try to at least return the gesture, and show him some affection... you're what a lot of humans would consider "hot"... use that... play with it. Get close to Tyler Standish, and in return, you'll get closer to the information we need. You could use the experience in human relationships." Cavil stated.

At the mention of the word "relationship", D'anna grimaced slightly, as she then took a drink from her jar of ambrosia.

"Fine... I'll get closer to the Commander... just keep in mind what I said... we need to guide the fleet along, not take huge swipes at it." she said, as the two regarded one another.


The Battlestar, and its fleet of 22 ships, continued on course through space.

Inside the large Battlestar, Commander Standish walked down a hallway, on the way to CIC. He had in his hands a small bunch of duty reports that he was looking over as he walked.

As he kept his pace, he noticed the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching behind him, and he stopped to see who was there, as Grae came to a stop beside him.

"Morning, Medusa." he began, using her callsign as her name. "What's it like out there?" he asked.

"Quiet, Sir... too quiet." Grae replied.

"So you want to make some noise?" Standish asked, now lowering the paperwork, and taking his glasses off, as he looked at her.

"Aye, Sir... I don't like it, Sir... almost three months now, since the Cylon attacks, and we still have not seen so much as a Raider. Just because we don't see them, doesn't mean they're not out there." she began. "I'd really like to step up the CAP drills and combat exercises. Throw in some live-fire simulations, maybe?" she offered.

"I agree with you on the Cylons... we should remain alert... especially with the discovery of two new human planets... we don't want the Cylons making the same discovery. Run whatever practice drills you feel you need to, and don't be afraid to push your pilots. We're out in the unknown now... we have to prepare to expect the unexpected. Be that Cylon or otherwise." Standish said.

Grae smiled, as she began to jog in place, as she saluted the Commander.

"Aye, Sir... thank you, Sir." she said, as she began to jog off, as Standish called out to her, causing her to pause and face him again.

"I wanted to let you know..." Standish began. "I've invited the XO to my cabin for dinner tonight... why... why don't you join us? I wouldn't mind your company as well." he offered.

Grae thought about it, a she kept jogging in place, and then looked to Standish, smiling.

"Sure... maybe I'll drop by." she offered, as she again ran off, leaving a smiling Commander in front of the door to the CIC.


From that main situation table, D'anna looked on, as Commander Standish opened the door to CIC, and entered the room, making his way to her location, and setting the reports down upon the lit table.

For a moment, she regarded him, as the whine of the DRADIS screens filled the room.

"A problem with the CAG?" she asked, hinting that she had seen the two of them talking from the door's window.

"Hmm? Oh, no..." Standish began, looking at D'anna. "I was just inviting the CAG to dinner tonight, in my cabin. Come to think of it, I would love it if you could join us as well... it would give us a chance to talk a bit, off-duty." he offered, allowing a thin smile to escape to the surface.

D'anna looked for a second as if she would refuse, then changed her mind, and smiled.

"Fine. Sure, why not?" she began. "Guess I won't turn down a free meal." she offered, as both she and Standish smiled, and then looked to the DRADIS.

"How are our friends in the pilgrim fleet?" Standish asked.

"Well, Sir. The Captain of the Sal Caltanis reports nothing to be alarmed about. One of the women on the Deseret Star gave birth this morning to a healthy baby boy... other than that, no news to report." D'anna relayed.

"Good." Standish began. "How long until we're ready to make the jump to Emilon?"

"Mister Hindri says that the fleet will be in optimal jumping position in roughly two days." D'anna replied.

Good, good." Standish uttered. "I spoke to the CAG about stepping up the combat drills for our Viper pilots. She was concerned that we're getting to comfortable in assuming the Cylons won't return. I told her to do whatever she felt needed to be done, to get our pilots whipped into shape and ready. Since you'll both be at my table tonight, I'd like to hear any suggestions you could offer, that would add to her plans." he said.

D'anna appeared to be looking the Commander over, as her eyes ran up and down his form.

"I'll see what I can offer." she said, looking at him, as he smiled thinly, but politely.

"Good... that's good." Standish said, as he now again looked up to the DRADIS, the wash of the DRADIS wave reflecting in his glasses.

D'anna just looked at him, and contemplated the man. His prodigious use of the word "good" hinted that he was in a good mood, but this sudden invitation to his table was unexpected... out of the blue, as it were. Was he hitting on her? Flirting with her? Had Cavil been right, in assuming he would want her, in a way more than professional? In the time that she had served with him, Tyler Standish never struck her as a "people person", per se... he preferred to keep to himself most of the time, in his dim quarters, with a book, and a glass of ambrosia. But she would go to dinner with him, and see where this would go... maybe the Commander would pursue a relationship on his own, and she wouldn't have to do anything.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #18 on: March 13, 2010, 11:48:52 PM »


The Battlestar, and its fleet of 22 ships, continued on course through space. It had been two days since Commander Standish had had dinner with his new XO, and his CAG, and it was now time for Urantia to make the first jump towards Emilon.


The DRADIS whine filled the room, along with the sounds of usual duty activities, as Standish looked up at the monitors, and then to Mister Hindri.

"Sir..." Hindri began. "Our FTL is spooling up... ready to jump... all fleet ships report ready, Sir.

"Very well... Mister Hindri... jump!" Standish called out, as the CIC crew braced themselves onto whatever they could hold, so the jump would not cause them to lose their equilibrium.

In space, the familiar FTL ring and wave washed over Urantia, and all the fleet ships, causing them to vanish from sight, leaving only empty space behind.

Instantly, in another region of space, multiple flashes of light signaled the arrival of Urantia and her fleet, as the ships again drfited in deep space.


The DRADIS monitors showed the icons representing the fleet, as Standish and D'anna gazed at the readings. After a long series of moments, a new blip appeared on the display. After a second, another.

"Sir! New contacts... profile looks like Cylon Raiders, but if they are, they either followed us, or are out incredibly far... maybe lost." Hindri offered.

Standish looked from the DRADIS display to the tactical planning table, then back up at the display. Finally, he made his call.

"Launch the alert Vipers." he called out, as Hindri relayed the orders in the background.

Suddenly, a comm message came through the speakers from one of the Emilionian ships... it was the Captain of one of the two military cruisers, the Sal Caltanis.

"This is Captain Zender Kline, of the Sal Caltanis... we have detected some new signatures on our RADEX, and are moving to investigate." he relayed.

Standish shared a look with D'anna, and then lifted the phone handset from its cradle on the side of the table.

"This is Urantia Actual... set Condition One throughout the fleet." he ordered.


Urantia's CAG, Grae, callsign "Medusa", flew at the head of the formation of Vipers that was heading for the new contacts. The mini-DRADIS display in her cockpit showed two blips that seemed to be an intermediary in size between a standard and heavy Cylon Raider.

"What the frak?" she whispered to herself, forgetting that her voice was transmitting over the comm link.

"What's that, Medusa?" another one of her pilots asked, over the comm.

"Nothing... just talking to myself." she said, somewhat embarrassed. "Just thinking about these new contacts... we should be able to see them any second... keep your eyes open, and your senses alert!" she called out.

In space, two dark and shadowy forms emerged from the darkness of space, blotting out the stars behind them. The silhouettes of the craft resembled a "T" shape, that had been turned on its side, with the top of the "T" to the starboard side of the craft. The top "T" section was curved, giving an appearance of a large wingblade or shield. The middle of the "T" section resembled a standard Cylon Raider, complete with a "head".

The craft emitted no sound, save for a high-pitched and mournful whine.

Suddenly, a dark glass "visor" was lifted from the head section of the lead craft, and a roving bright red light erupted into life, scanning from left to right. The second craft followed suit.


Grae looked at the new arrivals with both shock and disdain.

"FRAK!" she began, calling into the intercom. "Urantia... we've got Cylons out here... but they're not like anything we've seen... they look... strange." she said. "All Vipers, weapons free! Follow my lead!" she called out.


Commander Standish stared at the DRADIS, watching his Vipers begin to mix it up with the new Cylon contacts. Finally, he turned to face his officers behind him.

"Put us between the fleet and those new Cylons out there... I want long-range interception fire, all portside batteries!" he called out, as he turned to D'anna, a serious and worried look on his face. "We can't risk letting the Cylons discover the location of Emilon... if they do, they would certainly wipe it out, and we can't be responsible for that." he stated, looking back to the DRADIS.


Medusa watched the Cylon "Raider" race towards her Viper, and gazed at the roving red scanning light on the head of the craft. The craft was nearing her Viper with incredible speed, and if the Cylon did not break off soon, it would collide with her.

Grae took the opportunity to unload her guns on the approaching lead craft. Her bullet tracers dotted the starscape, as the Cylon craft sped towards her.

"FRAK!" she yelled, as she instinctually forced her Viper into a hard bank, to avoid colliding with the Cylon. But such a move was not necessary...

Just as the Cylon craft was about to slam into Grae's Viper, it jumped away, into FTL, vanishing from sight.

Grae looked at her on-board DRADIS, looking for any sign of the craft. Finally, she found it, as a blip appeared.

"Urantia, this is Medusa... the lead Cylon is right on your doorstep... about a hundred meters off the port side." she said into the comm.


Both Commander Standish and D'anna looked at the DRADIS, as D'anna wore a look of confusion.

"Where the frak did they come from?" she began. "And why isn't there any Basestar?" she asked.


In space, the weapons tracers and flak fire from Urantia were dotting the view, as the two Cylon ships wove about, in close proximity to Urantia... the two Cylons seemed to almost be "recording" something about Urantia, as they were trying hard not to fire on the ship.

Suddenly, Urantia's guns had an effect, and one of the two new Cylon ships exploded apart, as cannon fire from Urantia ripped through it.

Seeing what happened to the second Cylon ship, the lead vessel began to turn away from Urantia, and as it came about, the FTL wave washed over the ship, as it vanished from view.


Commander Standish and D'anna shared a look, as the now regarded a blank DRADIS screen.

"Stand down from Condition One." Standish ordered, as he returned his focus to the XO.

"That was strange." D'anna offered. "Two Cylon contacts, no mothership nearby, and they jump in, and then jump out again... where did they come from?" she asked.

"This signifies a Cylon presence in this system... or at the very least... nearby this system. We're going to have to proceed with caution to Emilon... if we have another Cylon encounter, I'm going to skip Emilon, and try to jump to Ruion instead." Standish said, as he now began to walk away from the command table.


The ship continued on course through space, along with its fleet of ships.


D'anna poured more water into the glass for Cavil, who took it, as she now sat back down across from him.

"I still don't know what you're talking about... I did not contact anyone yet... I haven't had the time to... whoever these Cylons were, I know nothing about them... the only Cylons I knew about, are way back near the Colonies." Cavil explained. "This attack was not my doing."

"Could this be a new form of Cylon... or some sort of rogue group?" D'anna asked.

"I don't think there are any "new Cylons"... or rogues, for that matter... there has to be some reasonable explanation for what happened today. And you can be assured, that I'll find out." Cavil stated.

"In any case, this has shown that there is a Cylon presence out here... we should have the nearest Basestar jump in, and investigate... it can trail Urantia just out of jumping range, and while shadowing us, can scan for any sign of where these Cylons came from. If we can find them, we can bring them home... place them back with their own kind." D'anna offered.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #19 on: March 21, 2011, 10:06:50 PM »


The silence of space was broken, by a large and dark object, which sped by, as a long contrail of smoke sliced a line through the starscape.

The Cylon Heavy Raider sped towards a planet, which outwardly, looked as if it could support human life... there were oceans, and landmasses, as well as clouds, but there were only very sparse patches of green on those landmasses.

The smoke from the Heavy Raider's engine continued to spew out, as the craft swerved to line itself up for an emergency landing on the surface.


Inside the cockpit of the craft, two Cylon Centurions sat at the controls, silently working on the approach, as their roving red lights moved from side to side in a "V" pattern. Suddenly, the sounds of the cockpit were broken, by a sound that had not been heard for a very long time... and it came from behind the two Centurions... a loud, and extremely "robotic" metallic-sounding voice...

"Rate of altitude loss incompatible with current alignment vector... re-calibrate and adjust... divert all remaining emergency power reserves to forward stabilizers." the voice said.

The two Centurions at the controls momentarily looked to regard the source of the voice...

An original Cylon Centurion... a Leader, indicated by the shiny golden armor he wore. His red scanning light wove from side to side, in a straight line, as the Leader reacted to the two Centurions looking at him.

"Look out... look out! Brace for collision!" the gold Leader began, just as the Heavy Raider slammed into something solid, and the force of the impact shattered the cockpit, and threw the Cylons about, as debris and vegetation filled the cabin.



The mighty warship continued to escort the fleet through space. As the fleet gradually began to angle about slightly, the arc of a planet's atmosphere could be seen, as the world began to loom ever larger... it was a planet very much like Aerelon, capable of supporting human life, but mostly agricultural, and not as developed as Caprica, Tauron, or Leonis. This world was neither of those, however... this was Emilon.


Commander Standish looked at the DRADIS screens, and saw absolutely no vessels in orbit, other than his Colonial fleet, and the pilgrim fleet. He looked to the command table, then to D'anna.

"Well... here we are. Hard to believe that we've had no encounters with the Cylons since those mystery ships appeared, but it's true... we made it here safely." he began. "Now, we need to work with Captain Kline and his people, in contacting the surface, to secure any food and water we can... build up our stores again." he added.

"Shouldn't take too long." D'anna began. "From what Kline said, his people would be willing to help out. Also, I think it would be a good idea to let some of the people from the civilian ships go down for a while... let them stretch their legs... after some months cooped up in liners and cargo haulers, I'm sure they'd like some open space for a while." she offered.

"Agreed." Standish said, nodding, as he removed his glasses, to rub his eyes, before putting them back on. "It's been a long day... I'm gonna grab a nap and then a shower... I'll see you later." he said, as he walked off, leaving the XO in command.


Kept perfect orbit over Emilon, as a handful of Raptors began an approach to the planet's atmosphere.


D'anna placed a jug of water on the table, and handed an already full glass to Cavil, as she then poured herself one.

Cavil took a drink, and then set the glass on the table, looking to D'anna.

"Well, it seems that we may get an answer to the puzzle of those rogue Cylons Urantia encountered." he began. "We've sent one of our Basestars to a planet in a system about three jumps behind us... we had picked up an automated distress signal coming from that location, that is Cylon in origin. With luck, some of our Centurions are still functioning, and can tell us what happened. The design of those two craft were unusual., though... if these Cylons had anything to do with them, I'd like to know if it was something they found and modified, or if they made it themselves." he added, taking another drink, as D'anna looked to him.


The planet hung in the heavens, as a short distance away, the familiar FTL flashring appeared, spitting out a single Cylon Basestar, which began to slowly drift towards the planet.

The shadows of dozens of Cylon Raiders could be seen, creeping along the rocky surface of the world, as the ghostly whine of their many engines filled the air. Finally, the vista of the rocky surface landscape was broken... by the sight of the remains of a heavily damaged Heavy Raider, which was strewn about in chunks, as nearby, the lone survivor of the newer, more "mysterious" Cylon ships sat, as the four Centurions surrounding it, looked upwards, to the Cylon Raiders overhead, as their shadows continued to dash across the surface of the planet.

On the surface, at the crash site, one of the four Centurions broke from the group, and walked to an area at the foot of the sparse woods, and disappeared for a moment behind a large chunk of debris from the downed Heavy Raider, as in the distance, the whine of the Cylon raiders still filled the air.

After a moment, the Centurion emerged from behind the debris, and walked back to his last position, as now another Cylon followed him... but this Cylon did not look like the smooth, silver, Centurion... this Cylon was special... he was one of the original Centurion models... a Leader... and his brilliant golden armor shone brightly, in the afternoon sunlight of the world they were on.

The gold Leader looked up to the sky, his red scanning light roving from left to right, in a straight line, as the Raiders flew past him, overhead. Finally, after a long moment, he broke the silence, and spoke, filling the air with his metallic, robotic, voice.

"Cylon search-and-rescue party... three dozen Raiders... one Heavy Raider. Detecting Basestar in standard orbital altitude... forty-five degrees above equatorial line." he began, as he now looked to address the newer Centurions around him. "Prepare data packets for download, and prepare Seeker for departure from surface." he ordered.

The new Centurions all looked at him, and "nodded" their responses, as they carried on with their assigned duties, as the gold Leader stood watch, his red scanner still roving to and fro.


The ship continued to shepherd its fleet in orbit of Emilon... homeworld of the pilgrim fleet, and one of two known worlds inhabited by members of the human race, who left Kobol so many years ago, on a journey to Earth.


The small, ramshackle-looking ship kept a slow, but comfortable pace with the nearby Urantia, which dwarfed the small transport ship.

On board the small ship, Captain Zender Kline, of the military cruiser Sal Caltanis, was escorting Commander Standish on a tour of the ship, so that Standish could see the Emilonian pilgrims for himself, and see how they chose to live, and what their practices and culture were.

As they entered another corridor, both men ducked to avoid hitting a rafter, as they cleared it, and continued walking.

As Tyler Standish listened to Captain Kline explain to him about the ways and beliefs of the pilgrims, he began to notice that as he looked around, the ship was very simple... there were no computers... no elements of artistic expression... the closest thing that came to art that he saw so far, were the sepia-tone photographs of the Emilonian men, women, and children, in their traditional clothes, and most wearing expressionless faces, as the photos sat snugly inside their octagonal frames, and the few quilts that he had seen some of the women tending to. He began to realize that these people were simplists... they did not like advanced technology very much.

The two men paused, so that Kline could point out one of the water-distribution devices that the pilgrims liked to use, but Standish was not listening... he was drawn away from Kline's words by the sight of two pilgrim women who were washing clothes together, as they chatted. One of the women, paused, and looked up at Standish, and smiled, as she brushed some strands of fiery red hair away from her eyes.

She was stunningly beautiful to him... hot, even. He just looked at her, and tried to return her smile, in a way he hoped would not seem awkward, which caused her own smile to widen a bit, as she then looked away from him, and turned back to the other woman she was working with, and resumed her conversation.

"Excuse me." he said to Kline, as he excused himself, to walk to the redheaded woman, as Kline just paused, and looked after Tyler.

As Standish stopped in front of where the two women were, they stopped talking, and looked to him, as the redheaded woman stood straight, and wiped her hands on her dress, looking at him, as she smiled.

"I'm Commander Standish... Tyler Standish, of the Battlestar Urantia." he said, softly.

The woman just looked at him, a tight and sly smile on the tip of her lips, trying to break through. She was beautiful to him... fiery orange-red hair, milky white skin, pointy nose, high cheekbones, and azure blue eyes.

"Well, Commander Tyler Standish, of the Battlestar Urantia... to what do I owe the honor of your attention?" she asked, the tightly locked smile creeping ever more to the surface.

"First things first." Standish began, softly. "I told you my name... now it's your turn."

"Now, Commander Standish..." she began, pretending to admonish him, as a mother would a child that's being rude. "You should know you don't go ordering womenfolk around in such ways." she said, her smile now letting itself to the surface, as she looked right into his eyes.

Standish stood his ground, but she could tell that even though is expression was outwardly serious, he was laughing in his eyes. Finally, Standish decided to play her game.

"Very well..." he began, as he started to walk off. "I can't talk to a woman, if I don't know her name." he said, baitingly, as he got only a few steps, before she relented, and called out to him.

"Wait!" she said, as he turned to face her, as she walked up to him, extending her hand. "Eliza Winnow... that's my name." she said, smiling in an equally baiting way.

"Eliza Winnow..." Standish repeated, looking into her eyes the whole time, as he accepted her hand, and shook it gently, as the other pilgrim woman just looked at the two of them, and almost rolled her eyes, as if to say to Eliza, "I can't believe you're falling for this." The other woman, a brunette, looked as if she were fighting the urge to break out into laughter.

"So..." Eliza continued. "You must tell me now... of what do I owe the honor of your attention?" she asked.

Standish nodded for a moment, and then, while still holding her one hand with his, drew her close to him, so he could whisper something in her ear.

As he spoke, her cheeks turned almost as red as her hair, as he now drew away, and she let out a soft gasp of mock-shock at the Commander, as she looked to him, a playful smile on her lips.

"Why, Commander Standish..." she said, still pretending to be shocked.

Standish just let out a slight smile, and nodded politely at the two women, as he excused himself.

"Ladies..." he said, as he now walked away, his smile growing quite large, as behind him, Eliza walked back to her companion, as both broke out in giggles.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #20 on: March 21, 2011, 10:08:02 PM »


The door to the Heavy Raider opened, and a group of Cylon Centurions walked out, and down the ramp, as their metal feet clanked loudly on the ramp's metal. Upon touching ground on the surface of the planet, the Centurions looked around, and then looked to the group of surviving Centurions nearby, as the gold Leader Centurion stood at the head of the formation. When the Centurions were confident that there was no danger, they all switched from guns, to their clawlike "hand" appendages again, as they turned to let another Cylon out of the craft... a "skinjob".

The feet of the skinjob Cylon walked down the ramp, and set foot on the soil, as the being then paused. After a moment, D'anna Beirs looked right at the gold Leader Centurion, and let out a gasp of shock, as she turned to face another "skinjob" Cylon that had just joined her from the craft... a Cylon known by the humans as Doral.

"My God..." D'anna began. "Do you know who that is?" she asked. "That Centurion 315... the only remaining Leader Centurion from the first war known to us." she added. "He commanded the campaigns and attacks that yielded the most human losses, during the first war... because of that, he was kept active." she explained, as Doral regarded the Leader.

Finally, the two human Cylons walked to the Leader, the Centurions close behind.

Upon meeting the Leader, the Leader brought his right arm to his chest, in a salute, as D'anna initiated the conversation.

"You are Centurion Leader 315." she began.

"Affirmative." the Leader replied.

"We picked up your distress beacon... status report, Leader." she ordered.

The Leader's red scanner moved from side to side, as he responded.

"Our Heavy Raider passed through a nebula that disabled our navigational bearings. I ordered an FTL jump out of the nebula, to avoid further complications. We came out of FTL, and were instantly struck by a small meteorite, which damaged our engines. I attempted to negotiate a landing on the surface of this planet, when we crashed." the Leader began to explain.

"How long had you been on the planet, before you sent the distress signal?" she asked.

"Not long... we had just completed transmitting the signal, when the ground came up and hit us." the Leader said. "In an effort to determine our location, we have salvaged components of our destroyed Heavy Raider, and have been able to improvise two new Cylon craft." he added, indicating to the Seeker craft, sitting nearby.

D'anna and Doral looked to the craft, and then D'anna looked back to the Leader.

"I see only one craft... you said there were two." she said.

"The other craft was destroyed, in combat against Battlestar Urantia." the Leader replied.

"The Battlestar Urantia?" D'anna began. "You have encountered it? Is it nearby?" she asked.

"Affirmative." the Leader began. "We were able to obtain close-range scans of Battlestar Urantia." he added.

D'anna looked to Doral, and the two of them quietly discussed some thoughts, as D'anna then turned back to face the Leader.

"Very well... we want to review your findings. We have a Basestar in orbit... gather your Centurions, and bring your new craft on board the Basestar... you're coming home." she said.

"By your command." the Leader answered.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #21 on: March 22, 2011, 09:49:03 PM »


The mammoth black ship sailed through the darkness of space, blotting out the star behind it, as it moved along.

Inside the ship, the gold "Leader" Centurion stood amongst the newer, modern Centurions, as the "skinjobs" gathered around a monitor, and were watching the recorded footage of Battlestar Urantia's weapons firing.

D'anna was impressed with what she was seeing... the new improvised "Seeker" craft the Centurions had built were able to get extremely close to Uranita... inside its firing solution.

Finally, the footage ended, with a bright golden/white energy ring, which quickly enveloped the entire view... the remaining Seeker had jumped away. D'anna turned to face the gold Leader.

"Very nice... I'm impressed that you were able to get so close. You have done well, Centurion." she began, as she walked over to him, and as she did, he looked right at her, his red scanner roving to and fro. "Is Urantia still nearby?" she asked.

"Affirmative." the gold Leader began. "Battlestar Urantia is currently joined by a small fleet of star ships... most have Colonial identification codes, while others have codes that are not consistent with those from the Twelve Colonies of Man. Analysis of the communications traffic between fleet ships indicate the other vessels come from a planet known as Emilon." he added.

D'anna's look grew excited, as she turned to face the other "skinjobs" in the room... a couple Gina's, a Sharon, a Cavil, and a few Dorals.

"We have to find Urantia... she's still nearby!" she exclaimed, as she could sense the others were not sold on the idea just yet. "With this information on Urantia's firing solutions and patterns, we can easily do some heavy damage." she stated.

"The point being?" one of the Gina's asked. "Urantia's already on her way back to the Colonies... we'll get to her eventually."

"No... don't you see?" D'anna began. "We need to corral her... keep forcing her in a direction away from the Colonies! Don't you see? Urantia has discovered other pockets of humanity... most likely remnants of the 13th Tribe... we need Urantia to find all of them that there may be... only then, can we push her home... where we will be able to deliver the final blow to the remains of the human race." she said, as the others looked at her, as she again turned to the gold Leader. "I'm putting you in charge of locating Urantia... I also want you to command our Centurions, in all engagements we have with Urantia." she said.

"By your command." was the gold Leader's reply, as he just looked to D'anna, his red scanner moving from left to right.


The mammoth black ship sailed through the darkness of space, as it was now joined by one new Basestar. A large contingent of Raiders flew alongside the two mammoth ships, their ghostly whines resonating through the void.

On the lead Basestar, many large machines were busy fabricating the hulls of new Cylon craft... segments of black wing would be fabricated, and then a mechanical arm would transfer those parts to another arm, which would assemble it to the main fuselage, and on the line the parts would go, and so on.

The tall chrome Centurions that were manning the controls to the assembly machines looked up for a second, as D'anna and Gina walked into the room, escorted by the gold Leader. D'anna looked around the room.

"Impressive... I'm surprised that the Centurions were able to reproduce the craft design you improvised on the planet so quickly. When assembly is complete, we will have a new arsenal for our fleets... these Seekers will be able to execute recon jumps, ahead of our Raider parties, and evaluate the target's defenses and readiness, before we jump in." she said.

The gold Leader's red scanner roved to and fro, as he replied.

"The Battlestar Urantia is the only Colonial warship in the fleet. However, our scans indicate that two of the ships from planet Emilon also carry military-grade weaponry, consistent with a light military cruiser." he said.

"But those ships cannot begin to compare to the level of power Urantia has, right?" Gina asked.

"Affirmative." the gold Leader responded, as D'anna and Gina now stepped closer to the assembly area, to watch the new craft being constructed.


In orbit of the world, the Battlestar Urantia continued to escort the fleet, as the large group of ships held position in a high equatorial orbit.

On the surface of Emilon, the sun of the world filled the noontime sky with its light, as a few white, fluffy, clouds dotted the sky.

Below, Commander Standish looked back down from the sky, and to his companion, with whom he was holding hands... Eliza Winnow... the redheaded pilgrim woman, whom he had first met aboard the Sepia Moon.

The two walked amongst a vast open grassy meadow, as the sun's light warmed them both, and a gentle breeze blew. In the background, other pilgrims from the fleet could be seen, mingling with Colonial officers, and showing them various vegetables that grew on Emilon.

Eliza had offered to give Standish a tour of the surface... to explain to him her beliefs and way of life. As the two walked along, holding hands, he looked at her fiery red hair, and silently marveled at how the tips of each strand was glinted with pure golden light, as the sunlight touched it.

She was telling him how her people held views that promoted a low-tech way of life... more emphasis on self-reliance, and hard work, than reliance on modern technology to do the work of men. But as the agricultural equipment on Emilon began to grow more and more advanced, there was less work to do, and the views of the pilgrims became less and less popular, until, finally, they decided to leave, and embark on a pilgrimage back to their original home... Kobol.

The two paused, and she turned to him, and smiled, as a breeze blew a few strands of her hair in front of her eyes. He smiled back, and brushed the hair away, looking into her eyes. He felt like he was looking into the depths of her being. He did not know what about her it was... but she made him feel like no woman ever had.

A few meters away, D'anna and Cavil were walking on a very low grassy hill, and D'anna paused, and stared at the Commander and Eliza. Her expression was a mix of detached curiosity, and mounting jealousy, as if this other woman were in some way a challenge to her. Cavil saw this, and regarded D'anna, studying her look.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"Nothing." D'anna answered, still staring.

Finally, Cavil began to understand, and nodded, as he replied.

"Ahh... I see... you're getting jealous!" he said, causing D'anna to turn to him, an annoyed look on her face.

"I am not... that's crazy." she retorted.

"Is it?" Cavil shot back. "That should be you, with the Commander. You have an opportunity... get close to the Commander, and you'll be close to all the intelligence we'll need. You should make a move. And I would suggest quickly... before that little fox digs into him." he added, as D'anna shot him a mad look, as he just smiled.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #22 on: March 23, 2011, 09:37:49 PM »


The Battlestar kept orbit over Emilon, along with the fleet, as numerous Raptors and Colonial shuttles began to return to Urantia's flight pods, from the planet below.

Alongside Urantia, the transport ship Sepia Moon kept pace, as the rest of the fleet from Emilon hung back some distance.


Commander Standish regarded the DRADIS display, as he looked to D'anna, taking his glasses off for a moment.

"That should be everyone from the surface teams... the pilgrims are back on their ships, and our food stores are full... as are the water stores. I think we're ready to leave." he said, softly, putting his glasses back on, as D'anna took it from there, turning to the Officer of the Watch.

"Mister Hindri... start the countdown for FTL jump!" she called out, as she picked up the handset on her side of the table, to signal the fleet to spool up their FTL drives.

As she spoke to the fleet, Standish was distracted by the face of someone looking at him, from outside the window of the door to CIC... he looked up at the face, and it smiled back at him. It was Eliza... she waved to him, from the other side of the door, and he casually made his way to her, as now D'anna saw what was going on, and looked after him.

Standish stepped outside of CIC, to speak with her, and the door closed behind him, as he turned to her.

"Hey, there... what are you doing here? Nobody told me you were on the ship." he said, smiling.

"I wanted to surprise you." she answered.

"I'm surprised." he said.

"I wanted to ask you something." she began. "Since you listened to me tell you about our doctrines, and saw our town on the surface, I was wondering if you would want to join me tomorrow afternoon, to hear our pilgrim leader speak? Once a month, he calls all of us to attend a meeting, where he speaks of the state of our fleet,and our journey, and leads us in worship." she added.

Standish was about to say that he was not religious, but stopped himself... he liked this woman too much to blow her off, when she was asking for his company. Plus, she was looking at him with such "pretty please" eyes... he could tell she really wanted to share this with him. What the hell... if anything, this event could give him insight into the state of the pilgrim fleet, and he would be able to gauge his impressions of the man who was leading the whole endeavor.

"Sure... sounds like it might be fun." he said, offering her a smile. "I'll have to dust off my copy of the Book of the Word." he added.

"Great!" she said, her smile big, and her expression full of light. "Come to the Prophet Star tomorrow at noon... I'll be there to meet you." she said.

In CIC, D'anna watched through the door's window, as the Commander and Eliza appeared to exchange a quick embrace, before separating. A second later, the Commander turned around, and opened the door again, stepping back into CIC.

As he made his way to the command table, D'anna lowered her head, not wanting to appear obvious.

"Sorry... I had to step out for a moment." he explained.

"I saw." she began. "Plans for tonight?" she asked, still facing the charts on the table.

"Tomorrow... afternoon." Standish said, softly.

"So what are you doing tonight?" D'anna replied, now turning to face him, as she looked him in the eyes.

"Relaxing in my cabin, with a book and a glass of ambrosia." he said. "Why?"

"No reason... just curious." she said, as she returned to her work, as Standish looked after her.


The ship led the fleet along, now in open space, having left Emilon behind.

A Colonial shuttle made its way from Urantia to one of the Emilonian pilgrim ships... a ship larger than the Sepia Moon, and a bit darker in color, and sleeker... it was the ship carrying the group's leader, the Prophet Star.


Commander Standish was greeted by the door to the meeting room by Eliza Winnow. She smiled, as she offered her hands to him, which he took, as she introduced him to the other pilgrim woman beside her... he recognized her as the brunette who had been giggling at his flirting at her, when they first met.

"Commander... I'm glad you could come." she began. "This is my friend, Sariah Tansen." she added, as the other woman nodded, a shy smile on her face.

"Tyler Standish." he replied to her, offering his hand, which she took, as the two shook shortly.

"Well... shall we?" Eliza asked, as she opened the door to the meeting room.

The trio entered the room, which already had people seated at rows of chairs, facing a central podium. Eliza took her seat, as Standish sat beside her, and Sariah sat beside Standish on the other side.

Standish looked on, as now the group's leader emerged from behind some royal blue curtains, which were behind the stage area, and walked to the podium. Standish noticed that as soon as this man entered, the women all looked to him with light in their eyes and faces... Eliza was no exception. He turned to look at Sariah, and she, too, was looking at him longingly.

"That's Wardlow Ethem... he's our Pastor spiritual leader... he organized this voyage, and assembled this fleet." Eliza whispered to Tyler.

Standish nodded, as the man now produced a copy of the Book of the Word, and set it upon the podium, as he opened it to a preset page, and took a drink from a glass of water, before addressing the mass.

"Fair Day, to all of you." he began. "I am pleased to see you all again. I am dually pleased, to welcome a new guest to our gathering... Commander Tyler Standish, of the Battlestar Urantia." he stated. "I thank you, Eliza, for inviting the Commander to join us. And Commander, I thank you for coming... this is an event put into place by the hands of the Gods themselves." he began. "For, who could know, that as we embark on our pilgrimage from Emilon, to our ancient home of Kobol, that we would be destined to cross paths with not only our long-lost brothers and sisters of Man... but that you also, would be on your way back to Kobol?" he stated, as a question.

"Who'd have thunk?" Standish called out, in reply, at a loss as for what else to say, as some of the men in the mass shot him wary glances. He looked at Eliza, and whispered "Sorry" to her, as Sariah tried to suppress a giggle, that still escaped slightly.

The pilgrim leader continued his speech.

"Indeed." he began. "So now, we join our brethren on the voyage back to our home... back to Kobol. And along the way, we shall meet those from the "Twelve Colonies", who elected not to join the 13th tribe, on its voyage to Earth... and we shall see what kind of lives and cultures our relatives have created for themselves. But even considering our differences, we will still be one people, reunited, once again." he went on. "But the 13th tribe's voyage was a long and perilous one... and by assuming the trail back to Kobol, we do so knowing that the voyage back shall be equally long, and arduous. Some of our elder may not live to once again see Kobol. We must ensure that a part of them does see it... that their names and legacies continue." he added. "To increase our numbers, is to increase our legacy... and if we increase our families, we increase our numbers."

"What's he talking about?" Standish whispered to Eliza.


The mammoth black vessel continued to silently sail through space, as dozens of guardian Raiders flew alongside it.

In the control center of the Basestar, D'anna was standing over a data console, her hand underneath the thin layer of water that was above the controls. he withdrew her hand, upon hearing the metal clanking of Centurion's feet behind her. The clanking stopped, and she turned around.

The gold Leader stood behind her, and behind him, were two newer Centurions, acting as escorts.

"Speak." she commanded of the Leader.

"Request permission to post a requisition?" the Leader asked.

"I will hear your request." D'anna replied.

"If i am to lead the military engagements with Battlestar Urantia, I require the ability to communicate with my Centurions with efficiency. Considering the error of communication that resulted in the crash-landing of the Heavy Raider, I request to have two Centurions of my order placed under my immediate command, for all combat operations against Battlestar Urantia." he stated.

D'anna momentarily looked shocked.

"That is no small request." she began. "Those models still have their uses, but you are the only one that has seen combat since the war forty years ago." she continued.

The gold Leader just looked at her, his red scanner roving from side to side, as it emitted a whining sound.

"But then, you are the most militarily capable Leader we had in the war... so I feel I must trust your judgment." she said. "Very well... I will grant your request... I will send for two Centurions of your order, to be placed under your direct command." she added.

"By your command." the leader said, as he turned and walked away, as the two newer Centurions turned to look after him as he left.


Offline MelekOmega

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« Reply #23 on: April 07, 2011, 12:26:10 AM »


The fleet continued onward, heading towards the general location of the second planet of 13th Tribe humans... Ruion.


Tyler walked over to the couch, where D'anna was sitting, and poured her a glass of ambrosia, before pouring one for himself, and then sitting down to join her.

"So... what is it that's on your mind?" Standish said, taking a sip from his glass.

"Nothing... I just want to spend some more off-duty time with you... get to know my commanding officer a little better." she began. "Lately, you spend most of your off hours on the Sepia Moon." she said.

"I don't know if that'll continue." Standish offered.

"Oh?" D'anna asked, somewhat baitingly.

"Eliza took me to see Wardlow Ethem... I enjoy spending time with her, and I didn't want to be rude, so I sat through the meeting with her and the group. But I wasn't too impressed by what I heard... and Ethem himself... I don't trust him." Standish said.

"Oh? In what way?" D'anna asked.

Standish took another drink from his glass, as he then stood up, and walked to the table to refill it.

"Their beliefs are... different. Ethem believes that the pilgrims should increase their numbers... individual families should grow larger... that they should start having babies... lots of them." he began.

"So what's wrong with that?" D'anna rebutted.

"Nothing. But the way he wants them to do it is unorthodox. He thinks that if the pilgrims take more than one wife, they will be able to greatly increase the size of their families, by having more children within the same family, while still keeping a degree of genetic diversity." Standish added.

"What did Eliza think, when he made that suggestion?" D'anna asked.

"I think she was slightly taken aback... but most everyone accepted it." he said, as he walked back to the couch, and sat down beside D'anna again. "I care for her, but I am going to cut the time I spend with her down... I don't want to interfere with her religious convictions. The fact that she's a part of that fleet demonstrates how important her faith is to her. I'll have to take things slow." he added.

D'anna looked into the Commander's eyes, and after a moment, moved her right arm to his back, and rubbed his back, in comfort. He turned to look at her, and she offered her other hand to him, which he accepted, as he smiled at her.

"Well, you have me, Commander... if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know where I am... I may not be a foxy redhead, but I'd like to think I can help." she offered.

"You're a very attractive woman... I can't think of any man who wouldn't be lucky to have someone like you." he replied.

"You think so?" she asked.

"I know so." Standish answered, looking her in the eyes.

For a long moment, she regarded him, as if asking herself if she should believe what he was saying to her. Finally, she decided to test him.

"Ok, then... prove it." she began. "Kiss me."

For a second, Standish just gazed at her, until he finally moved forward, and planted a passionate kiss, right on her lips. The kiss lasted a good few seconds, until the Commander withdrew, and looked at her with an expression that seemed to say, "Are you satisfied now?".

Apparently, she was not, because then D'anna pulled him to her again, and locked her lips with his, as the two began to share an even more passionate embrace, as both people wrapped their arms around each other, as they kissed.


The huge black ship cut through the void of space, the ever present patrol of Raiders at its side.

Suddenly, the familiar ring and wash of FTL light appeared, and a second massive Basestar appeared, behind the first one.

After a few seconds, a set of 5 Raiders could be seen emerging from the new arrival, along with one Heavy Raider, and one other Cylon ship. But the other Cylon ship looked... strange...

The other Cylon ship was somewhat saucer-shaped, with twin booster engines at its aft section, and was a light gray and black color.

On the original Basestar, the gold Leader Centurion stood watching, as the Heavy Raider brought the old style Raider into the landing area. Behind the gold Leader, D'anna, Gina, and one of the Dorals stood watch as well.

After both craft had landed, the hatch to the Heavy Raider opened, and four of the newer Centurions escorted two of the older model Centurions out.

The older Centurions were the same model as the gold Leader, but both of these Centurions were shiny chrome in color.

The new Centurions walked right up to the gold Leader and paused, mere inches away from him. The gold Leader looked up at the newer models, and his red scanning light roved from left to right, as if staring them down. The newer Centurions returned his stare, and their red scanners moved from side to side, in a "V" pattern, as they gazed at him for a few long seconds. Finally, the two escort Centurions in the front of the group stepped to the side, to reveal the new arrivals to the gold Leader.


The view of the civilian fleet and Battlestar Urantia filled the view from the cockpit windows, as the starliner began to slow down, as in front of it, the rest of the fleet continued on, as ship after ship began to slowly pass it.

The usual chatter of flight instructions and comm chatter filled the cockpit, as one of the pilots noticed something from outside, as he turned to the co-pilot.

"Hey... hey... looks like they want to know why we're slowing." he said.

The co-pilot let out a sigh, and nodded, now also looking at the lone Viper from Urantia, heading for the ship. Sure enough, after a second, the Viper fired its thrusters, and held position in front of the liner, facing it, as the Viper pilot called the ship over the comm.

"Pan-Galactic 840, this is Urantia Viper 13... request to know why you've reduced speed?" the pilot asked.

The co-pilot pressed the button to open the channel, as he spoke into his headset, looking out the windows to the Viper.

"Urantia Viper, this is Pan-Galactic 840... there's nothing to worry about... we're just slowing to move alongside one of the Emilonian ships... we have a small situation on board, with our passengers, so we're addressing the problem." he offered.

It took the Viper pilot a second to reply.

"Uh... say again, Pan-Galactic... a situation? What's going on?" the man asked.

"Urantia Viper, it's nothing to worry about... we're moving alongside the Prophet Star, so that some of our passengers can have a change of scenery, and spend some time aboard that ship... stretch their legs." the co-pilot said.

"Why? No prior clearance was giv--" the pilot began, but was cut off by the pilot.

"Urantia Viper, this is the pilot... look, we didn't want to bother the Commander with this, but if you must know... we have been having a real problem with some of our passengers, since we left Emilon." the pilot began.

"Copy that, Pan-Galactic... what kind of problems?" the Viper pilot pressed.

The pilot shared a look with the co-pilot, as the pilot moved to reply.

"To be blunt... most of the people on this ship are going stir-crazy. We've been on the same ships for months... the same surroundings, the same stale air... people are finally starting to feel it... we've had new outbreaks of claustrophobic attacks, and people are finally going stir-crazy... so we are rotating some of the people from the ship, and the Captain of the Prophet Star was kind enough to allow us to bring some of our passengers on his ship for a while. Just a change of scenery for a while." the pilot offered.

Again, there was a break, before the Viper pilot replied.

"Copy that, Pan-Galactic 840... will inform Urantia Actual of new status. Proceed, but maintain radio contact at all times." the Viper pilot said, as now, from the windows, the pilots watched as the Viper came about, and began to slowly escort the ship into formation alongside the Emilonian fleet.



Commander Standish slapped down a handful of papers on the command table, as he looked to D'anna.

"Claustrophobia... people are going stir-crazy, in the civilian fleet." he said.

"It was bound to happen... I'm actually surprised it took this long." she offered. "For months now, we've all been bottled up in the same environment, with no chance to change things... we can't go outside, because outside is space, and any habitable worlds are few and far between. People were bound to crack." she said. "Add to that, the constant threat of a Cylon attack... people are then also on edge, and jumpy... prone to panic."

Standish took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes for a moment, as he looked down to the table, before again looking at D'anna, as he replaced his glasses.

"The people need something to do... something to divert their focus away from the stays on their ships." he offered.

"But what would that be?" D'anna asked.

"Indeed." Standish replied. "We'll have to think of something. Otherwise, before too long, other ships in the fleet could have the same problem... and panic could consume the fleet. We can't afford that... we need people who are calm, relaxed, and adjusted... so that we can deal with what we need to deal with in an efficient manner." he said.