Battlestar Urantia - nuBSG-era FanFic

[BolianAdmiral]

Battlestar Urantia (BSU) is a story that I wrote, based on the re-imagined Battlestar Galactica series (nuBSG) created by Ronald D. Moore (RDM) and David Eick. The original prose version of the BSU story was posted on the Trek BBS website, and took two years to develop and write. At the time, it was the single most viewed and popular story on that site, and generated excellent reviews. It is now the current top-place story on the Battlestar Forum, with the most views on that site as well. The BSU story is unique, yet also continues the story of BSG where BSG left off, and answers nearly all unanswered questions from BSG. Battlestar Urantia is not intended to be either a sequel or even a continuation of Battlestar Galactica, at least not a continuation in the literal sense of the word. Rather, it is intended to serve as a story that is told alongside BSG, running concurrent with the timeline of events in BSG. At its core, Battlestar Urantia is a companion piece.

So what is the story? The basic premise is very simple. The BSU story starts out in much the same way as the BSG movie RAZOR did... with the Urantia docked at the Picon Fleet Headquarters when the Cylons attack, just as Pegasus was docked at the Scorpion Fleet Shipyards in RAZOR. And, just like in RAZOR, the Urantia initiates an open-ended FTL jump to escape, just like Pegasus did. From that point on, the story changes. Urantia, and twelve other small civilian ships that were able to jump away with her, emerge from FTL very far away from the Colonies, deep in unknown space. The Urantia must establish a star fix, and work her way home. Along the way however, the Urantia begins to encounter new worlds with human societies on them. It is learned that these humans are a part of the lost 13th Tribe, and that long ago, when the 13th Tribe left Kobol for Earth, the journey was taking so long, that a few small groups decided to break from the fleet, and settle on these worlds. When these newfound humans learn that the Urantia is headed back to the Colonies, and towards Kobol, a few ships from each new planet elect to join up with Urantia's small bunch of ships, to see the Colonies and Kobol, and thus Urantia begins to amass her own ragtag fleet. From there, the story eventually becomes merged with the storyline of Battlestar Galactica, and the story deals with events from the Twelve Colonies, Kobol, and even Earth. The BSU story adheres very strictly to the established canon of nuBSG. Absolutely nothing in the entire BSU story in any way contradicts anything we saw on the BSG TV series, or anything that has been stated by RDM himself.

So, without any further delay... I give you Battlestar Urantia. Enjoy.



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BATTLESTAR URANTIA

Created, Developed, & Written By: BolianAdmiral

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

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



- FOR THE FANS -



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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.



Today is that day.







CAPRICA CITY CIVIC CENTER - BAY QUAY, CAPRICA CITY, CAPRICA

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 assembled 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, prompting 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 their lives, as the people yelled and screamed in terror, the sounds of screaming and dying humans 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, as its red scanning light moved to and fro.





BATTLESTAR URANTIA

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 perfect 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.



*GASP!*

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.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

COMMANDING OFFICER'S QUARTERS

52 YEARS LATER

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, as he began to walk towards the head, to shower and get dressed.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

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

URANTIA CORRIDOR

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 slight resemblance to one Commander William Adama, there had been a running joke in the fleet that Standish and Adama were brothers. 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, Corporal 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 arrive 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 systems 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... is our own network offline yet?" Standish asked.

"Aye, Sir." the XO replied.

"Very well... 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. "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.

UPPER PORT HANGAR DECK

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 paused 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 coffee, 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.



- TO BE CONTINUED -

[BolianAdmiral]

- CONTINUED -



PICON FLEET HEADQUARTERS - STAR SYSTEM CYRANNUS

The massive space station held orbit over the blue globe of Picon, as between the station and the planet, various civilian ships could be seen slowly gliding through space, calmly going about their business while the berths of the station were occupied by the large Battlestars of the fleet, just as one large Battlestar in particular began its final approach to a designated berth...

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The big Raven-Class ship slowly oriented itself to slowly move forward into the docking slot, her massive RCS thrusters shooting out powerful jets of thrust to align delicately into position, while the docking arms of the berth began to gently extend outward, to connect with both of Urantia's flight pods.

Finally, the great ship came to a halt as the docking arms latched onto the flight pods with a soft thud, while the forward docking umbilical began to extend to the forward airlocks, as in the foreground, a few Raptors sailed by.

CIC

There were smiles all around the room, as a few light claps were heard, while Standish congratulated his crew.

"Good work, everyone... I know it's been a long mission, but we're home now, so while the refit crews are busy monkeying around with our CNP system, there will be time for some R&R for anyone who wishes it. Again, good work, and thank you all." Standish announced loudly, yet softly.

With that, Standish turned to face the table, gathering up his folders of SITREP reports, as his XO placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, man, it'll be great to get some open space and fresh air for a change." the XO stated.

"I hear that." Standish began, finally looking up from the folders to his XO. Just then, without any warning, the DRADIS contact alarm sounded, but before anyone had a chance to react, a very distant and muffled, yet extremely loud explosion was heard, which was immediately followed by the entire CIC being violently rocked, as lights flickered, and people struggled to keep their equilibrium, and automatically, the Condition One klaxon began to blare throughout the CIC.

"What the frak was that?" Standish called out, as both he and his XO looked to the Officer of the Watch, a young blonde woman.

"Reading multiple DRADIS contacts... looks like five craft, no Colonial signatures. What we felt was the wake of a radiological weapons hit... Sir..." she began, looking to Standish with wide eyes, "It was the Celestia... she's gone!" she added, stunned.

With that, instantly, without having to be told a single word from either Standish or the XO, everyone in the CIC snapped into full action, putting their headsets back on, as they scrambled back to their stations, and began to work, relaying incoming data and damage reports, as Standish and the XO looked to the DRADIS monitors, with looks of concern and confusion.

PICON FLEET HEADQUARTERS

The station held its orbit over Picon, as in the far distance, a group of five large and black ships held position. The ships all looked like black "double Y" shapes, joined together at the central axis point. The five ships instantly began launching swarms of small and black claw-like craft, that began to race toward the giant space station, just as the forward two double-Y ships spat out volleys of missiles, which zoomed towards the Battlestars on either side of Urantia, on her same docking arm.

With furious force, the missiles slammed into their targets... a Mercury-Class and a Valkyrie-Class Battlestar, as both ships quaked, before crumbling and exploding apart in a massive display of fire and debris.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

CIC

The CIC was again rocked hard, as Standish and the XO held their ground, while the Officer of the watch continued reporting incoming data...

"We've just lost Battlestars Olympia and Zodacia... Bakudan and Bishamon! Craft incoming... size looks like Raiders, but configuration is unknown!" the woman announced.

"It has to be the Cylons... after forty years, they're back..." the XO began, as Standish shot him a serious look, before turning to face the Officer of the watch.

"Break all dock connections... get us the frak out of here, and ready all weapons... bring our starboard side to the Cylons, and have all starboard guns come to bear on the nearest Basestar... tell the Gun Captains to target the intersection point between the two saucers!" Standish ordered.

"What saucers, Sir?" the woman replied, as Standish's eyes grew big with confused shock.

INTERSUN LUXURY LINER "STAR OF PICON"

The long sleek gleaming white ringship sailed underneath one of the Picon station's far docking arms, just as a series of Battlestars that were attempting to move away from the dock all suddenly began to lose their orientation, all at once, as if someone had simply flipped a switch, and shut them off, as each of the Battlestars now began to drift out of control at all angles.

BRIDGE

The Star of Picon's Captain gazed out the large Bridge windows, in morbid awe of what he was seeing... entire squadrons of Vipers were drifting lifeless in space as his ship maneuvered around them, only to see the Cylon missiles striking the station and Battlestars, destroying the Battlestars, and inflicting devastating blows to the station. But there was one Battlestar that for some reason, was not drifting lifeless or burning in space... in fact, this lone Battlestar was not only up and about, but was now exchanging full fire with the nearest Cylon Basestar, as dozens upon dozens of shimmering silver streams of ammunition shot from the Battlestar to the lead Basestar, while the immediate space surrounding the Battlestar was alive with suppression fire and flak explosions.

The Captain watched with both awe and horror, as the Cylon Basestar shot out a single missile, that sailed directly for the Battlestar Urantia, tracing a path to the Battlestar with a smoky white contrail.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The Cylon missile impacted with the outer hull of Urantia, creating a massive fireball at the point of impact, as a few hull plates exploded out into space along with the explosion.

CIC

As the deck was violently shaken, the floor immediately underneath where the XO was standing exploded out and up, causing a floor panel to shoot upward with blinding speed, striking the XO right in the face, knocking him over with a plume of fire, followed by searing steam.

With wide eyes and an expression of utter shock, Standish looked at his fallen XO, as the Officer of the Watch snapped into action, ripping her headset off, and rushing down to the XO's aid, trying to revive him with CPR to no avail. Finally, the Officer of the Watch just looked up to Standish, and shook her head in silence, as she got up and walked back to her post, putting her headset back on, just as the Marines led the Medics on the deck to deal with the XO's body.

Standish looked around his CIC, taking in all the sounds and activity... all the Battlestars except his were gone, his XO was now dead, and he couldn't launch his Vipers... according to his Officer of the Watch, the Vipers from the other ships that had been launched had also been jammed by the Cylons, and rendered helpless... yet somehow, the Urantia had survived... why? What was it about all the other ships that made them so vulnerable? The only difference between Urantia any any of the ships here, was that Urantia had not had her systems upgraded yet... yes... that had to be it... that was the only possible thing he could think of. In any case, Standish knew that to stay and fight here and now would be a losing proposition... if there was to be any hope to wage a winning war against the Cylons, Standish would need to retreat from this place, and seek out and gather any remaining Colonial forces, and return to Colonial space together as a combined force, and launch an all-out offensive against the Cylons.

""Now hear this!" he shouted, as all eyes looked to him. "We're getting the frak outta here! I want a set of FTL coordinates for an open-ended jump... once you have a set of coordinates, transmit them to any Colonial vessels nearby, and invite them to evac with us, civilian or military! I say again, we're going to initiate an open-ended FTL jump!" he added, as the Officer of the Watch nodded, moving to get the FTL launch key.

INTERSUN LUXURY LINER "STAR OF PICON"

The slender white ringship led a small group of eleven other small civilian ships through space, towards Urantia, which was still maintaining fire on the Cylon Basestars, creating a firewall between the Basestars and the small group of civilian ships.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

CIC

"How much longer?" Standish's voice shouted, as the Officer of the Watch worked her panel, before looking up to face him.

"Got it! I have a set of coordinates!" she announced. "Transmitting!"

Standish looked up to the DRADIS screen, as he gave his order...

"That's it... JUMP!" he called.

INTERSUN LUXURY LINER "STAR OF PICON"

The slender ringship faced Urantia along with the handful of smaller civilian ships that were ahead of it, just as the small ships ahead were engulfed by a ring of golden light which washed over the ships, vanishing them from sight just as the same ring of golden light rushed over the Star of Picon herself, causing the ship to vanish. A mere second later, the FTL flashring washed over the Battlestar Urantia, and the massive Battlestar disappeared just as a trio of Cylon missiles and a squadron of Raiders flew right through the empty space the Urantia had just occupied.



- TO BE CONTINUED -

[BolianAdmiral]

- CONTINUED -



BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

With a loud flash and snapping sound, the form of the Battlestar Urantia emerged from FTL in a slight tilting drift, in the middle of unknown space, as a dozen smaller civilian ships dotted the space close to the Battlestar.

CIC

All eyes were on the DRADIS, as Commander Standish waited for the Officer of the Watch to call out the readings.

"Twelve DRADIS contacts... all reading as Colonial." she began. "Looks like a few civilian ships were able to evac and follow us through." she stated, as Standish looked to her.

"Types and I.D. of ships?" Standish asked, as the woman worked her panel.

"Getting ident codes now, Sir." she began. "Mostly passenger liners and transport ships... the Star of Picon, two Pan-Galactic liners... flights 22 and 840, the Oceana Zephyr, Oasis Traveler, Planet Express, Arbella, Speedwell, Mola Taru, Telesto, and two tylium ships... the Itu Janal, a refinery ship, and the Jaht Bhatal, a tanker." she reported, looking to Standish.

Standish merely nodded as he absorbed the information. He was glad that others were able to escape with them and was thankful to the Gods that a couple fuel ships made it out, but he was hoping that another military vessel would have made it out as well.

"Very well..." Standish began. "Contact the Captains of those other ships and have them assume a holding pattern for now. Inform them I will be contacting them shortly with new information. In the meantime... we need to use this time to get our bearings... find out where the frak we are." he added, looking to the Tactical Officer, who worked his station, before returning Standish's look.

"Sir... I'm not sure where we are... all I know, is that there are no familiar star patterns or constellations out there... we seem to have jumped into unknown space beyond the red line. Considering we didn't really plan out any set of coordinates, it's a miracle we didn't jump into a star or planet... that's the problem with open-ended jumps... there's a huge uncertainty factor." the young man reported.

Standish looked at the young officer and merely nodded sympathetically, understanding the circumstances of the situation.

"Indeed... you did a good job, Mister Hindri." he began. "But now that we're here... wherever "here" is... begin trying to establish a star fix... see if you can find us a waypoint to use, to plot a course back to the Colonies." Standish ordered, as Hindri nodded.

"Aye, Sir." he obediently replied, getting back to work as Standish looked back to the Officer of the Watch.

"I want a Raptor scouting party to do a recon of the immediate area... see if they can help Mister Hindri find out where we are. In the meantime, let's fix the damage we took. I'm going to walk the ship... you have the deck." Standish stated, as he began to walk away from the command table and towards the hatch to CIC.

"Aye, Sir!" the blonde woman replied, looking after the Commander as he left.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The mighty vessel sailed through open space, a small ragtag group of twelve civilian ships tagging along behind her.

COMMANDER STANDISH'S CABIN

Commander Standish sat at his desk looking over reports of damage incurred during the Cylon attack as his Officer of the Watch stood across from the desk in front of him at attention, waiting for the Commander's reaction.

Standish turned one last page over as he reached for a glass of brandy and took a drink, grimacing for a second at the strength of the drink before looking up to the blonde woman.

"We lost two Vipers, and somehow managed to take on one new one... one of Celestia's birds..." he began, looking up to the woman.

"Aye, Sir." she began, her face still hidden from view, facing the Commander. "The pilot said in his report that his Viper's CNP system was down for repair, at the time of the attack. He was flying CAP when the Cylons jumped in. When he saw we were prepping to jump away, he made a mad dash for us." she replied.

"Well... it's a good thing he did. We got lucky. Our losses could have been much worse. Were we able to get anymore information about how hard we were hit from any of the fleet's comm traffic?" Standish asked, looking up to face the woman as the light from his desk lamp reflected like fire in his glasses.

"The ships of the civilian fleet are still sending us copies of all their comm traffic logs, but so far we've been able to determine that comm traffic at the time of the attack just before everything went black indicates that the Cylons struck with force at every world. One message originating from Virgon reported that the Battlestars Carillon and Morrigan were totally destroyed without having gotten so much as a single shot off." she replied.

Standish nodded, a sober look on his face as he looked down to the desk before getting up from his seat and walking around to meet the Officer of the Watch.

"Well, it would seem that the Cylons managed to incapacitate our systems network. Spread the word... we're switching to manual control, for all computerized systems, both on this ship, and fleetwide.. that means the Chief is to rip out the advanced avionics from those new birds." he stated, looking the blonde woman in the eyes. "One other thing... I appreciate the way you handled the situation with the XO back there... we were in a crisis situation, and things were chaotic. You cut through all that, and snapped into action to help the XO and maintain a clear and level head. That is what I need... the kind of person I need at my side... someone who can cut through all the clutter and keep focused... get the job done." he added.

"Sir?" the woman asked.

Commander Standish reached into his left pants pocket with his left hand and produced a small black jewelry box, lifting it up before the woman and opening it, revealing XO's pips.

"What say you... D'Anna Biers, will you be my new XO?" he asked, softly, as he extended his right hand for her to shake.

D'Anna just looked at the box with the pips in it with utter disbelief. She was beside herself with shock and surprise... this was the last thing she had expected. Finally she allowed a small smile to escape to the surface and looked to the Commander, taking the box from him with her left hand as she shook his hand with her right, giving her answer.

"Aye, Sir... I'd be honored. Thank you, Sir." she stated.

"You did your job good." Standish began. "Congratulations, Colonel Biers. You're out of uniform." he added.

"In that case, Commander... request permission to be dismissed?" she asked.

"Permission granted, Colonel. Dismissed. Put those on... and then tell Mister Hindri that he's Officer of the Watch now." Standish said.

With that, D'Anna straightened up, and saluted the Commander who returned her salute as she then turned to leave the room, leaving Standish to look after her as she left.



- TO BE CONTINUED -

[BolianAdmiral]

- CONTINUED -



BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The ship sailed through space leading her modest ragtag fleet along as Vipers flew CAP alongside the ships of the fleet.

COMMANDER STANDISH'S CABIN

A sea of bodies filled the Commander's quarters as the various Captains of the fleet ships stood together facing the Commander's desk, all shouting questions and remarks over the other, creating a sea of chaos.

Finally Standish could stand no more, and with an aggravated look on his face rose up from his chair and stood straight, facing the fleet Captains and calling out to silence the group.

"That's enough!" he barked, as everyone instantly began to quiet down and give Standish their full attention. "Now I know the past couple days have been very confusing and trying for all of you... so allow me to tell you what we know so far." he stated. "Two days ago, the Cylons broke the armistice, and launched a surprise attack on our worlds and our fleet, and inflicted substantial damage to our forces. The Picon Fleet Headquarters has been totally destroyed. During the course of the attack, I made the decision to initiate an open-ended FTL jump away from the combat zone, and sent out the call for any able ship to follow us. Here we are. We are in unknown space, and Mister Hindri is working to find a point of reference we can use to negotiate a course back to the Twelve Colonies. In the meantime... we should all be prepared for extended stays on our respective ships." he said.

Instantly the crowd erupted into questions again, the dozens of voices overlapping for supremacy.

"Any word on the Troy or Oasis settlements?" one woman called out.

"I heard President Adar is dead!" one man shouted.

URANTIA CORRIDOR

Unknown to the Commander, his CAG, Grae Azaire, was standing right outside his open cabin door listening in to the conversation inside. When she heard those people say that the fleet and the President could be gone she felt sick in her stomach and began to feel an emptiness inside as her face wore a look of silent shock and sorrow. She quickly turned around and began to run to her bunk.

COMMANDER STANDISH'S CABIN

Standish looked upon the crowd with frustration as he called out again, to silence them all.

"HEY!" he shouted, as once again everyone grew silent, looking to him. "For one, we don't know exactly how hard we were hit or even why. But until we have facts pointing to the contrary, there is no reason to assume that the whole of the Colonial Fleet was taken out... we should assume that a handful of Battlestars did somehow manage to survive. We should also not assume that President Adar was killed. In fact, I am hopeful that once the Cylons reached Caprica, that the bulk of our forces were able to stop them, or at least inflict serious damage to them, slowing them down. It is because of this that I plan to set course back to Caprica once we have a set of coordinates, and seek out and gather any remaining Colonial forces, to mount an all-out final offensive against the Cylons." he began. "In the meantime, nothing will be served by operating on rumors. I prefer to operate based on what we know... based on facts." he added.

"What about food and water? We are a fleet of liners and transports... and one tanker. There are no agro ships here." one woman stated, as many others looked to her.

"Yeah... and what about when our tylium supply runs dry? What will we do for fuel?" a man called out.

Standish looked at the people before him, wondering how to best answer those points. He was hoping that they had not jumped too far away from the Twelve Colonies, but the truth was that he was not sure just how far beyond the red line they had ended up. It could very well be a very long journey home... if there was still a home waiting for them, by the time they got there. He didn't want to give anyone a false sense of hope, yet at the same time, he didn't want to offer up any false promises either, or create a sense of panic or despair.

"Yes, that is true." he began, soberly. "However, nobody should panic... we have Raptor teams exploring the area, and we will continue to send out Raptor recons at every point we jump. We will be on the constant lookout for any worlds with food or water. In the meantime, we should ration our intake. We have reserves on Urantia that we will be happy to distribute throughout the fleet. That is all for now... I will inform you all of any updates as I get them. Thank you." he added, looking to the two Marines guarding the entrance, prompting the two Marines to begin escorting the group of people out of the cabin as Standish walked back to his chair and sat back down behind his desk as he looked down, wiping his face with his hands with a big sigh.

GRAE AZAIRE'S DUTY LOCKER

Urantia's CAG sat on her bunk beside her locker, her face and hair moist with sweat as she shook slightly, looking to her wrist. Her right hand held a small pocket knife.

Grae looked as if she was trying with all her might to cry, but the tears somehow refused to come. Finally in desperation, she closed her eyes and bit down on her lip, bringing the knife to her left wrist.

She bit down harder on her lip as the blade sliced through the flesh on her wrist, causing the warm blood underneath to flow to the surface and run down her arm.

PAN-GALACTIC FLIGHT # 840

The white and blue fishlike liner sailed alongside its "twin", Pan-Galactic #22, among the other ships of the fleet.

PASSENGER CABIN

Almost all was dead quiet on the liner now, as it was the middle of the "night" and most of the passengers were sleeping as Commander Standish walked through the isle to the rear of the cabin, where an elderly man in black was sitting alone.

Standish paused in front of the man, prompting the man to look up at the Commander.

"Yes?" the man asked.

"Are you a Priest? Are you Father Cavil?" Standish asked.

"I am..." Cavil began. "Do I know you?" he added, as Standish sat down beside him.

"No." Standish began. "But I need to talk to someone, and my XO suggested I see you." he added.

"Your XO?" Cavil asked. "Does he have a name?"

"She... D'Anna Biers." Standish replied.

At the sound of D'Anna's name, Cavil's face showed a renewed interest, and he offered a small understanding nod.

"And it's a Priest you seek?" he asked.

"Not particularly. I don't believe in the Book of the Word. But I need to talk to someone who might be able to help me." Standish stated.

"I see." Cavil started. "Well, in that case... speak your mind, my child." he offered, looking Standish in the eyes.

For a long moment Standish just looked at Cavil, wondering if he should do this or not. Finally he resigned himself to the fact that he wanted to get this off his chest, and began to speak.

"Well... for the past week or so, I've been having these dreams... recurring dreams." Standish began. "It's always the same... I'm in a foggy forest, and the only color is a constant wash of red light, that moves from right to left and back, without end. After a few seconds, a man emerges from the mist of the forest... an archer. He doesn't speak. He just looks at me and then produces an arrow, which he shoots into the sky. After he shoots the arrow, a small region of fog parts in a prefect circle, revealing a clear night sky. I look up at the sky and a star... a single star appears to go nova, filling everything with brilliant white light. And then, the dream ends, and I wake up." he explained.

For a long moment both Standish and Cavil just looked to each other until finally Cavil broke the silence.

"Praise be to the Gods, child... for you have had a divine vision!" Cavil replied, looking to Standish.

"Vision?" Standish asked.

"Yes... have you never heard the story of the Thirteenth Tribe?" Cavil asked.

"I told you... I don't believe in the Book of the Word." Standish replied.

"Well... it's all found in the Book of Pythia. The Thirteenth Tribe of Man left Kobol as part of a great exodus, and set out for a world they called Earth. Apollo's arrow points the way to Earth." Cavil offered.

Standish looked at Cavil, trying to understand where he was going with all of this.

"Commander... it's as clear as day... the Gods have chosen your new path... your destiny. You are destined to lead this fleet to its new home... to Earth!" Cavil stated.

"And the wash of roving red light?" Standish asked.

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

For a long moment of awkward silence, Standish looked to Cavil, trying to figure out what to make of Cavil's words.

"Well, I thank you for your time, Brother Cavil, but I think you're mistaken... my role is to see this fleet back home to the Twelve Colonies and lead a final engagement against the Cylons, not to seek out on a quest for some mythical planet which may or may not exist." Standish returned, as he got up and Cavil looked up to him.

"I understand, Commander... but you did come to me. I assume it was because on some level you felt that what I had to say could help." Cavil replied.

"Seems I was mistaken. Thank you for your time. Sorry I wasted it." Standish offered as he began to walk away.

"Let not your heart be troubled, my child... my door is always open to you." Cavil said while Standish walked away, leaving Cavil to look after the Commander as he left.



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[BolianAdmiral]

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BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The great ship sailed through space, her small ragtag fleet close behind her.

URANTIA CORRIDOR

Commander Standish walked through the dimly lit hallway on his way to the CAG's bunk, thinking he would hand-deliver some duty reports on his way to the CIC. After a moment he finally rounded the corner and arrived at the hatch to the crew duty lockers and opened the hatch.

GRAE AZAIRE'S DUTY LOCKER

Urantia's CAG almost didn't realize that the hatch had been opened as she sat on her bunk, her head looking to the floor, her left arm extended and dripping blood from a fresh cut to her wrist, a knife in her right hand.

Standish swept into action, throwing the papers on the table as he rushed to Grae and knelt before her, grabbing the knife from her hand as he propped her up to face him.

She was slow to react, but when she did she was startled, and with a gasp of shock 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 against her throat, to keep her from struggling.

"What do you think you are doing?" Standish demanded, with a voice that conveyed both anger and hurt.

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

"Answer me." he pressed.

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 knees 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 softer 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 as he got up and left, putting the knife in his pocket while leaving 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 his help she would have to ask for it on her own.

XO'S CABIN

D'Anna walked over to the chair where Cavil was seated and poured him a glass of water, setting the pitcher of water down on the table before sitting down across from him and facing him, waiting for him to initiate the conversation.

Cavil took a long drink of water before setting his glass back down on the table, finally looking up at D'Anna.

"It was a good idea of yours... to send Standish my way." he began. "And I have to say... the meeting wasn't entirely uneventful." he added.

"Really?" D'Anna began. "What did he say?" she asked.

"He told me he's been having dreams... dreams of Apollo, pointing the way to Earth." Cavil stated.

"The Book of Pythia." D'Anna began. "But Standish doesn't believe in the Book of the Word... does he?" she wondered.

"No, he doesn't. But nevertheless, he's been having recurring dreams of Apollo shooting his arrow towards Earth." Cavil replied.

"So what did you tell him?" D'Anna asked.

"I told him that I felt he should turn this ship and this fleet around, and seek out Earth. We have an opportunity here... to corral two surviving Battlestars and finish off the remnants of humanity that we missed. If Urantia follows the course of the Galactica, we won't have to divert a significant amount of resources to deal with this fleet... we can just have Urantia come to us, along Galactica's path." Cavil offered.

"You think he'll do it?" D'Anna asked.

"Not yet." Cavil began. "But I intend to try and convince him... as you should, as well. You are in the unique position of being Standish's XO... you have firsthand knowledge of this ship and fleet... its course, its weaknesses. You have Standish's trust. I suggest you use it. Get close to Tyler Standish... play on that trust." he offered.

D'Anna looked to Cavil with a look that told him she was less than enthusiastic about the prospect of entering into any form of close relationship with Standish.

"I can get close to the Commander... but I don't like the idea of attacking Urantia so soon. If the Cylons suddenly appear, Standish will assume the fleet is being followed, and will increase security, making it harder to maintain a tactical advantage." D'Anna stated.

Cavil looked to D'Anna for a long moment, before taking one last drink of water from his glass, as he looked back to her.

"Fine... we'll try it your way for now. I'll give you three weeks. If we can't convince him to reverse course by then... I'll take matters into my own hands." Cavil stated, looking D'Anna directly in the eyes.

BATTLESTAR URANTIA - BSG-53

The ship sailed through space, leading her modest ragtag fleet along, as Vipers flew CAP alongside the ships of the fleet.

CIC

All eyes were on the Commander as he walked to the CIC 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 phone, 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. 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 calling 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, clapping 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, allowing a small smile to break to the surface of his face.



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