nuBSG fanfic "Battlestar Urantia"

[BolianAdmiral]

Hi, all...

I have a nuBSG fanfic, called "Battlestar Urantia", that I will soon post here, for those of you who are nuBSG fans. Below is the premise and basic plot for the "Battlestar Unrantia" storyline.



BATTLESTAR URANTIA - Synopsis:

"Battlestar Urantia" is my desire to create a good, high-quality, nuBSG fanfic, that adheres to the canon of the TV show, yet tells its own story, which at times, intersects with events seen on the TV show, while at the same time strictly adhering to established canon.

The story opens with the Battlestar Urantia (BSG-53) docked at the Picon Fleet Yards, where the vessel is undergoing computer upgrades. The urantia's commanding officer, Commander Tyler Standish, has a dream that disturbs him, and he awakens, to go to CIC. That is when the Cylon attack on the 12 Colonies begins, and the Cylons begin attacking the Picon Fleet Yards, and all the ships within it.

So, Commander Standish basically does just what Admiral Cain did in "Razor", and he orders a blind FTL jump, to escape the Cylon's fire. The ship jumps away, but when the Urantia comes out of FTL, it becomes known that the ship jumped very far away from the 12 Colonies... in fact, there are no familiar constellations where they are.

So, when a stellar fix is finally established, Commander Standish orders the ship back to the Colonies, to try and rally any remaining ships to make one last stand against the Cylons... nobody on Urantia knows the full scope of the devastation the Cylons have caused, nor do they know that President Adar is dead.

But along the way back to the 12 Colonies, the Urantia makes a series of startling discoveries... worlds with HUMANS on them! Most of these human civilizations also have space fleets! Commander Standish wonders why there are humans so far out in space, and is told about the lost tribe of humankind... the 13th Tribe.

Indeed, these humans are descendants of those of the original 13th Tribe, that left Kobol for Earth. But, along the way to Earth, some in that original ancient fleet grew weary of the long voyage, and elected to settle down on planets along the way, and begin their live anew on those worlds, establishing new colonies.

When Commander Standish contacts these humans, they are excited to meet humans from the part of space where their ancestors were from, and when they hear that Standish knows about Kobol, they ask to join Urantia, and head back to the Colonies, where they will embark on a voyage back to the home of their ancestors... Kobol. Thusly, Urantia ends up amassing her own civillian fleet, during the journey back home.

The story in terms of characters, revolves primarily around Commader Standish, his CAG, and the ship's XO, as they battle the Cylons, as well as their own personal demons. I will begin posting the story later this week, beginning with the "pilot" episode, "Leap of Faith". I welcome questions and comments throughout.

-BolianAdmiral

[Gibraltar]

It's a very interesting premise, and I'm looking forward to where you go with this. Just please, please, please make sure not everyone on these newly discovered human settled planets speaks 'english' or whatever it is was that was the lingua franca of the Twelve Colonies.

[BolianAdmiral]

Gibraltar,

You know... that is a very interesting and good point. This is what I have done with the languages...

Since the original 12 Colonies were started by those from Kobol, I would speculate that all the various Colonial languages and dialects are offshoots of the original language from Kobol, since they are all Kobol-derived, in much the same way as Italian and Spanish are almost the same, because they are Latin derivatives.

By the same token, the Urantia crew will be able to establish communications without TOO hard a time, because the people from the 12 Colonies already know about the original language(s), so they can use that to draw upon, since these are the descendants of the 13th tribe, and would have a language backhistory that follows that of Kobol, so their language would be the same, but also different... maybe like an analogy between Her Majesty's English, and Australian.

[Aaron McGuire]

I thing the seperation might even be greater between the languages. The ruins on Kobal were over 2000 years old so we are talking about some fairly wide divergence although without any outside influence.

Edited to add: the scrolls of Pythia that told of the exodus from Earth were 3600 years old. In less than that time Europeans went from speaking proto-Indo-Europeans to speaking all the different modern languages spoken today.

Aaron McGuire

[BolianAdmiral]

Aaron McGuire,


That is indeed very true... however, let's look at latin, and it's derivatives... spanish, and italian... latin is a VERY old language, and yet both modern spanish and italian share a LOT with latin, and indeed, spanish and italian are very much the same in and of themselves... sure some words are different, but if you hear a conversation in both, it is clear that these two languages share a common heritage... latin.

In any case, language is not what this saga is about... it is the story that counts... and I have tried VERY hard, to make this story as detailed, and as high-quality as I can, to honor the TV BSG, and its canon. Will I prevail? That's up for you, the reader, to decide.

The saga is broken down into 3 main "seasons", with each season spent in the pursuit of a particular goal. I think you will like it... I hope you will like it. The first part of the "pilot", "Leap of Faith", will be up later tonight.

[BolianAdmiral]

BATTLESTAR URANTIA

Created & Written By: BolianAdmiral

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


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BATTLESTAR URANTIA

* * * * *

PICON FLEET YARDS

The large framework of drydocks hung silent in space, housing three Battlestars, as those vessels underwent repairs and upgrades. Two of the Battlestars were of the older and smaller Valkyrie-Class... the Urantia, and the Celestia. The other Battlestar was a Galactica-Class vessel... the Solaria.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

Inside the ship, all was dark and quiet, inside the Commander's cabin. Only the sound of rustling bedsheets could be heard, as the Commander tossed and turned, and let out sounds of frustration, almost like grunts, as his mind was playing out a dream for him... one that was disturbing him, as he slept.

The fog was heavy and thick, in the lush and dense forest, as the Commander looked around, struggling to make sense of the fog-concealed forms of trees and the like, in the midst of the fog. Only one thing broke through the gray fog... a wash of red light, that roved from right to left, not making but the slightest of sounds.

The roving red light washed over the landscape, as the Commander turned, to react to the sound of ground being trooden upon, by someone... or something... that was running. Finally, a shadowy form appeared at the foot of the forest... the form of a man.

The Commander looked, as the man now stepped into the clear. Now that he could get a good look at the man, he saw that the man was an archer... he carried a case with arrows over his shoulder, and a bow in his left hand. The archer put one finger to his lips, as if to hush the Commander, and then proceeded to produce a single arrow from his case, and prepare it for firing, upon his bow.

Suddenly, the archer brought his bow and arrow up, and aimed it towards the heavens. This action caused the fog and clouds to suddenly disperse, drawing away from the potential line of fire with speed, revealing a stellar landscape... the vast expanse of space, dotted with brilliant white stars.

Finally, the archer released his arrow, and it shot up into the cosmic void, rising high into the darkness. The Commander kept track of the projectile, as it raced towards it's target, until finally, something happened...

Just as the Commander lost sight of the arrow, one star in particular became brilliantly illuminated, expanding outwards with brilliance, almost as if it had gone supernova.

Suddenly, with a gasp, the Commander awoke in his bed, his body and sheets soaked with sweat. In the dark, he groped for the nightsand light, and finally was able to turn it on, as he wiped the sweat from his face, considering what he had just dreamt.

After a few minutes, Commander Tyler Standish stood up, and walked to the head, to wash up, and get dressed... he would not find rest tonight, so he may as well check in at CIC, and see what was going on there.

CIC

All eyes looked to the Commander, as he entered the large room. It was the middle of the night watch now, and the lights were dim, and the only sounds to be heard, were the haunting whines of the numerous DRADIS screens. He proceeded to the central command table, where his XO was waiting for him.

"Commander." he began. "Insomnia again, Sir?"

"Strange dreams." Standish replied, softly. "What's happening here?"

"Not much, Sir... two Colonial passenger liners just jumped in... requesting some quick software patches to their environmental computers... the Oasis Traveller, and the Itania Express. Another one, Pan-Galactic flght 840, is in the system, and will arrive within the hour." the XO reported.

"Very well... we should have the yard cre--" Standish began, but was cut off, as the ship was suddenly jolted violently, and the sound of an outside weapons impact was heard.

"SIR!" the Senior Officer of the Watch called out. "Reading multiple contacts, Sir... Cylon! Two Base Ships, and about a hundred Raiders, inbound!"

The Commander and the XO looked to the DRADIS screen for confirmation, and indeed, there was a multitude of new Cylon contacts.

"What the frak... they've broken the armistice!" the XO called out, looking to Standish.

"Get us the hell out of the dock, and bring our weapons to bear on the nearest Base Ship... target the meeting point, between the two saucers!" Standish ordered.

"What saucers, Sir?" the Officer of the Watch relayed, as Standish looked to him, his face a mix of confusion, and shock.

PICON FLEET YARDS

Outside, it was chaos... the Urantia was firing her reverse thrusters, breaking herself free from the dock moorings, but the Solaria was too slow... the Cylons had engaged her first, and as a result, she had bore the full brunt of the Raider's fire. As Urantia cleared the dock scaffolding, and began to move away, the nearest Cylon Base Ship fired a thermonuclear missile at Solaria, which struck the ship with full force, initiating the telltale brilliant white flash of a nuclear blast, as the explsoion washed over the Solaria, causing the ship to blow apart, in a massive explosion, which expanded, and destroyed almost all of the Picon Fleet Yard as well.

The Celestia had now launched all of her Vipers, and they were moving to engage the Raiders.

The area around the Battlestars was a vista of ammunition tracers and flak explosions, which seemed to equal the stars in number. The uncountable Cylon Raiders zipped by the huge Battlestars, strafing them, as they then turned, to make another run at it.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - CIC

As the Commander and XO watched the DRADIS, the Officer of the Watch relayed some comm information he was getting.

"SIR! Comm traffic from the Celestia... they're reporting that they've lost contact with their air group, Sir... all their birds are ineffective against the Cylon Raiders... it's as if they've been neutralized, somehow." he stated.

The XO looked to Standish, serious.

"Sir... if the Cylons can paralyze our Vipers... it must be the on board nav computers... we have to eliminate that vulnerability." he said.

"How the frak do we do that? We don't have time to rip out the avionics on all our birds... not now." Standish replied.

"Our Mk. II's!" the XO said, suddenly remembering. "Sir... we have a dozen Mk.II's, in the starboard flight pod... our air group is scheduled to perform at that vintage airshow on Canceron next week... those performance birds are airworthy." he offered.

Commander Standish looked at the XO, and finally made the call.

"Do it... tell the Starblazers that their airshow has been cancelled... they have combat flying to do." he said, as the XO nodded, and reached for the phone handset, to deliver the order.

STARBOARD FLIGHT POD

The two-dozen techs rushed into the room with the Mk. II Vipers, all lined up in a neat row.

"How the frak do they expect us to jam ordinance into these things?" one of the techs asked.

"I dunno... but the order came from the top deck, so it's what we do." another tech replied, as now they became momentarily distracted, by the view from the open end of the flight pod...

As the countless tracers and flak dotted the sky, the lead tech wore a look of utter terrified shock on his face, as he gazed upon the sight of one of the two Cylon Base Ships... unlike anything he had ever seen before.

BATTLESTAR CELESTIA - BSG-77

The ship was taking an awesome pounding... the entire ship was literally awash with flak fire, and tracers... it was enveloped in fire, on all sides, as the Cylons fired upon it relentlessly.

Suddenly, one more Base Ship jumped out of FTL, right in the path of Celestia. Seconds later, missile contrails could be seen, originating from the Base Ship, and heading towards Celestia.

CIC

The ship shook violently, as another weapons hit struck the ship. The Commander of Celestia looked to his DRADIS screens, which were going on and off line. He looked at the icons representing the Cylons with utter rage and hatred in his eyes.

"Allright... fine, you godsdamned motherfrakkers... you wanna take us out, fine... but you're coming with us, you toaster bastards!" he spat, as he now turned to his own Officer of the Watch. "Mister Grendal... we're gonna take these motherfrakkers for a ride... striaght into the fires of hell itself! Give me a collision course with that Basestar in front of us... and ready an FTL jump... coordinates 307, carom 415... initiate the moment the ship impacts with that Basestar!" he shouted out.

"But, Sir... those coordinates... they'll take us--" Grendal began.

"I know what the frak they mean! Just DO IT!" the Commander shouted, his eyes full of serious and burning intent.

"Aye!" Grendal replied.

In space, the mighty Celestia limped towards the massive Basestar, still under constant fire on all sides. Finally, the proud old Battlestar met its target, and the fore of the ship slammed into the hull of the Basestar, both ships beginning to break apart, just as the FTL wave washed over the Celestia.

However, since the Celestia and the Basestar were now one, the FTL wave engulfed the Cylon ship as well, and both ships vanished from the area.

THE SUN

The Battlestar and Basestar jumped out of FTL, and for but a single second, continued colliding with each other, as the intense heat from the Sun's photosphere instantly engulfed both ships in fire, totally destroying them both, leaving nothing behind.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Gibraltar]

Great opening segment, though I could have stood to get a bit more familiar with the major characters prior to the start of the action... but that's a minor quibble. I liked how the commander of the Celestia went out. If you're going to go, go BIG!

[BolianAdmiral]

Gibraltar,

Thank you. Part 2 of the opener will be up by late tonight.

[BolianAdmiral]

CONTINUED...


BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

CIC

Commander Standish and the XO looked to the DRADIS with shock... had Celestia really just jumped away, while on collision with the Base Ship?

"Gods..." the XO began. "She jumped into the frakking Sun!" he lamented, with morbid awe, as he looked to Standish, who wore a serious look, as he looked down to the table for a moment, before looking back up at the DRADIS.

"SIR!" the Officer of the Watch called out. "Our old birds are functioning, but they're taking heavy fire from the Raiders... and with only twelve birds, we don't have much to fight with... the fighters Celestia and Solaria left behind are running for their lives, Sir... if they engage the Raiders, they'll be shut down." he lamented.

Standish looked to the man, his eyes full of worry and thought... Urantia was now the only Battlestar left here... and there were two other Basestars out there, waiting... there was no way a single Battlestar could fight off those odds.

"Signal ALL, repeat, ALL Vipers and any FTL capable ships in the area, military or not... tell them we're jumping the frak outta here, and they can join us if they want. Tell all Vipers to land on our decks!" he called out.

"Aye, Sir!" the Officer called out.

Just then, the whole ship was truck with something strong, and the XO was knocked off his feet, as a nearby console exploded into flame, sending a large panel flying right into him, with blinding speed.

As a stunned Commander Standish watched, people rushed to the XO, to try and extinguish the flame from the panel that was on him, as the man writhed in pain under the onslaught. Finally, his movements stopped, and one of the people tending to him... a female officer, blonde, looked to Standish, and shook her head... the XO was dead.

Standish was in shock, as the ship was again hit hard, and people struggled to retain their balance. Finally, the Officer of the Watch shouted out some new data to the Commander.

"SIR! They're launching radiological missiles! Nukes inbound!" he shouted.

Standish looked around his CIC deck... he was on what was possibly the last surviving Battlestar, his XO was dead, and there were nukes on the way. On top of that, only twelve of his frakking birds were airworthy at all.

In space, Urantia was now totally engulfed in enemy fire, as Raiders buzzed all aound the ship, as the Vipers from Urantia and the other ships tried to draw their fire, as many Vipers were now racing to Urantia's flight pods. Ammunition tracers and flak bursts outnumbered the stars, as the Urantia struggled to stay alive.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - CIC

Commander Standish now looked to his Officer of the Watch, and pointed to him.

"Okay... I want an open-ended FTL jump... I don't care where... just get us the frak outta here! And once you have a set of coordinates, send those to any of the ships neaby that have FTL!" he called out.

The man looked to the Commander with shock.

"Sir! An open-ended FTL jump is a very ris--" he began.

"I know what it is! But I prefer that to dying here, at the hands of the Cylons!" Standish spat back, as the man now went to work.

In space, all the Vipers from the various ships began to hard land on the Urantia's flight pods, as the comm orders came through...

"This is Urantia, to all birds... come on home, come on home... combat landings authorized... preparing for FTL jump!" the man's voice said.


BATTLESTAR URANTIA - CIC

The ship shook with another hit, as the blonde woman who had helped the XO relayed some data to Commander Standish.

"Sir... ten seconds to nuke impact!" she called out, looking to Standish.

The Commander looked to the Officer of the Watch.

"Now or never... get us the frakking hell out of here... NOW!" he shouted.

"I have a course!" the man shouted out, pressing some buttons. "Initiating hyperlight jump, NOW!" he called out.

In space, the weapons tracers and flak continued to totally encase the Urantia, as hundreds of Raiders descended upon the ship, like flies upon a carcass, as at the same time, the contrails belonging to the twin nukes raced toward Urantia's hull.

JUST as the twin nukes were about to strike the hull of Urantia, the entire ship was consumed by the ring of light that was the FTL jump, and the missiles smashed into each other, producing a massive thermonuclear blast, that sent a shockwave outward, which wiped out almost all of the Raiders in the immediate area.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The entire Battlestar suddenly appeared, as the FTL ring spat it back into normal space.

CIC

All eyes were on DRADIS, as the Officer of the Watch tried to confirm any new blips on the scope. Finally, one blip appeared, then two, then three, until a full ten blips were visible on DRADIS.

"SIR!" the man called to the Commander. "Ten confirmed contacts... all with Colonial transponder codes... they're civillians, Sir!" he called out, looking to Standish, with a big smile on his face.

"They followed us through." Standish said softly, watching the monitor.

Now the blonde woman spoke up.

"Sir... I have the I.D.'s on some of those ships now... the Itania Express, the Oasis Traveller, the Oceana Zephyr, the Providence, two Pan-Galactic flights... 22 and 840, one tyllium mining and refining vessel, the "Itaron", two cargo vessels... the "Speedwell", and the "Arbella", and a passenger liner... the "Absynthe Sunset". she relayed.

"That's fine..." Standish began. "But now... where the hell are we?" he asked, as he looked to the Officer of the Watch. "Mister Hindri... can you tell us where we are? Are we still in Colonial space?"

For a long series of moments, Mister Hindri worked his console, until finally, he looked to the Commander with a blank look on his face, as he shook his head.

"Sir... I'm not able to read any familiar star patterns out there... wherever we are, we are definately nowhere near the Colonies." he began, apologetic. "But I will continue my calculations... there has to be a familiar waypoint somewhere that I can use, to plot a course back home." he added.

Standish nodded, resigned to the fate, as he looked to the ground for a moment, before then looking to his crew.

"Very well... we'll use the time to get oriented... get things fixed up." he began. "I want a full damage report on my desk by the end of the day. Have the flight deck provide me with a full report on how many Vipers we lost, and how many we took on, and from which ships. Signal the surviving civillian fleet that I will be contacting them shortly... for now, inform them to try and remain calm, relax, and to remain near us at all times. As a precaution, I want to maintain condition one throughout the ship." he said, as he now walked away, leaving CIC.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

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

COMMANDER STANDISH'S CABIN

The Commander sat at his desk, some papers before him, as well as a glass of ambrosia. he took a drink, and grimaced at the strength of the drink, as he picked up one of the papers, as a woman stood with her arms behind her back, in front of his desk... it was the same blonde woman who had tended to the XO, in CIC.

"I just want you to know, I was impressed with how quickly you snapped into action, with the XO... 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 yak-yak, 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.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[BolianAdmiral]

CONTINUED...

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

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

COMMANDER STANDISH'S CABIN

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 civillians 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 civillian added.

Unbeknownst 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.

COMMANDER STANDISH'S CABIN

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 Battlestars Celestia and Solaria were 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 civillain 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.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[BolianAdmiral]

CONTINUED...

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The large Battlestar continued to lead the ragtag civillian 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.

PAN-GALACTIC FLIGHT 22

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.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[BolianAdmiral]

CONTINUED...

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

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.

COMMANDER STANDISH'S CABIN

D'anna Biers, now in her XO attire, 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 Solaria, 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 tinary 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.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

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 other Battlestars.

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 possesed, 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 doig this for anyone else, but helowered 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 taht 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.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Gibraltar]

Great stuff! Standish and his people are picking up the pieces and trying to get some idea of where they are and what's happening. You're doing a good job of balancing the individual stories with the overall plot, and showing us snippets of the suffering many are surrendering to.

More please!

[BolianAdmiral]

Gibraltar,

Thank you very much. i'm delighted you're enjoying it so far.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

CONTINUED...

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The Battlestar proceeded on course, hearding its flock of civillian 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 civillian 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 sciptures, 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 civillian 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 civillian 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 rythym 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.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[BolianAdmiral]

CONTINUED...

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The Battlestar proceeded on course, hearding its flock of civillian 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 civillian 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 maintinence 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 civillian 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 variying sizes... some shuttle sized, others as large as our tyllium 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 Gemonese dialect... I think they are using a Gemonese-derivative language... from one of the older dialects I remember reading about in comprehension class... my family and I are from Geminon, 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 Jaht Batahl, 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 Jaht Batahl... 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 Gemonese?" he asked. "Geminon 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.

TO BE CONTINUED...