Unfortunately they had three days left to wait until the expedition returned. “ Galactica will wait for the expedition to return.” he looked up, meeting his XO’s gaze.Īcknowledgements came from around CIC, and about 3 minutes later, with a flash of energy, the rest of the fleet had jumped away, leaving the old girl alone. “Here.” he set his finger on a location about a single jump distance further along their present course. “Signal Pegasus, they are to escort the rest of the civilian fleet to…” he frowned down at the plot. If they managed to track Racetrack’s Raptor back he would potentially have Cylons crawling all over the Fleet well before the expedition could return. On the one hand he couldn’t leave this location, the expedition he’d ordered back to the Colonies had only this as the return point, if he left they’d be abandoned.īut he also had to honor the threat that these possible Cylon’s presented. But the unknown craft did have them, in the sort of places he could imagine them belonging as they corresponded to similar locations on a Viper.īut he had to make a decision. Moreover, while the words were incomprehensible at the resolution level of the tactical cameras on the Raptor, Adama had never seen a single Cylon craft with any warning labels or written markings on them. That plated structure in the hull of the unknown fighter had what looked like an ejection blow out panel that, if his old eyes weren’t deceiving him, should be the right size for a human to eject from a crippled bird. The lack of a canopy was a strong indicator that they were likely to be Cylons of some sort, but the proportions were wrong. There was nothing organic about them, they were functional, mechanical, but something that he could instantly grasp the logic of. The ships imaged by the camera were like nothing he’d ever seen, and extremely different from typical Cylon design philosophies. And that planet evidently was already inhabited.īut Adama wasn’t so sure that it was inhabited by Cylons. They’d misjumped in orbit of a possibly habitable planet, at least going by the images caught by the Raptor’s recon cameras. The newly minted Admiral Adama was aware of the rumors, even as he mentally reviewed the debriefing that Racetrack and Skulls had given just an hour or so before.
But tension had spiked ever since Racetrack’s Raptor had returned prematurely, and then spiked even more as scuttlebutt leaked out that they’d not only misjumped but had found Cylons. Not that it was ever precisely relaxed, especially since the genocidal attack that had utterly shattered the Colonies and forced the few small remnants of survivors to flee. It was tense in the dimly lit CIC of the Battlestar Galactica as the old warhorse hung in space surrounded by the rag tag fleet of refugees from the 12 Colonies of Kobol.
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