NEPTUNE'S LEGACY

DAY ONE – DISTANT THUNDER

A blank star field is disrupted by a flash of pure energy, and where moments ago there had been airless void now lay a small brown ship, only a few metres long. Through the darkness, voices sprang out on invisible threads.

"Fairlight Station, this is Raptor 253, requesting approach confirmation"

"Copy Raptor 253, you are cleared to proceed. Neptune is waiting at berth five."

"Roger"

Raptor 253 passed above the blue globe of Aquaria, and headed towards the massive thirty-kilometre wide space station orbiting high above the northern hemisphere.

Inside the Raptor, Colonel Quinn moved to the vacant front seat, sitting beside his pilot for the trip, and looked out the window at the world below. The relatively small land masses of Aquaria were dwarfed by the sheer size of the oceans. Sparse cloud cover could be seen over Arctis, the primary land masse about to be consumed by the planet's night side. Aquaria possessed no capital city, and at roughly two billion had the least number of humans of all the twelve colonies.

"What do you think, Parker?"

"Sir... I think it's a step backwards."

Quinn was slightly amazed. "Really? Fast words coming from a recently promoted lieutenant."

Suddenly Parker couldn't help but trip over his words. "Sorry sir, but I just feel this ship isn't the best step for... well I think maybe... "

Quinn laughed. "It's ok lieutenant, I'm not gonna get angry. I actually like what Admiral Nellis has done. Not many Admirals would chose an old ship over a new one"

"THAT was my point sir. I mean the Neptune's a good ship but she's no Atlantia"

Quinn nodded. "I have to agree with you there."

Parker tried to inject more life into the conversation. "Sir, don't you think Fairlight... well, it's a bizarre place for a refit."

Quinn sat back in his chair. Fairlight was now looming large in the window and various ships, both old and new, flew between the spider-like tendrils of the station's docking arms. Generally regarded as a wrecker's yard for ships past their prime, it was often used by the Colonial military for raiding spare parts.

"On the contrary I think it's the perfect place, although only in the context of the Neptune. If you had a fifty year old Battlestar, where else would you look for replacement components"

"True sir." Parker took the Raptor into a dive, taking them between two docking arms, one servicing a new Mercury class Battlestar, the other a twenty year old Magellan class freighter in the midst of being disassembled.

"Sir... how long will you be staying with us?"

This raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Well, a few of the knuckle draggers heard you got a promotion to the Triton-"

"I turned it down. I felt I still had more to offer the Admiral. Besides, plenty of time for promotions in the navy later on."

That was the end of the conversation as far as Quinn was concerned. He knew of the men talking behind his back, but didn't mind. True, he had avoided promotion three times already. Commanding officer of the Triton was appealing, but he wanted more time. One day he thought, he'd get his own ship.

Just not today.

The Raptor cleared the central hub of Fairlight station and headed for the outermost docking pylon. That's when they made their first visual sighting of the Neptune. Same vintage as the legendary Battlestar Galactica, but where the navy had opted to convert that ship into a museum, Nellis had convinced top brass to allow his ship – the first he served on all those years ago – to undergo probably the most radical redesign a ship of her class had ever done. Quinn sat forward to get a better view.

Outside, the Battlestar Neptune looked nothing like her old 'rusting' self. Her ribs were virtually all covered up, replaced with a strong – albeit considered largely unnecessary – triple hull plating. Her flight pods were now permanently fixed, no longer needing to retract when she jumped. The two arms holding the pods had been replaced by three stronger, thicker and more rigid arms, which if nothing else according to Nellis would allow the design to match the rest of the Colonial fleet. Underneath, two additional arms came up from the lower hull and attached to the bottom of the flight pods, further giving the ship more strength. The cavity in the main hull that would normally accept the flight pods when they retracted was now filled in, giving the ship a much larger crew and/or emergency capacity. Quinn noticed the small worker drones applying the last of the paintjob to the new hull. The dark blue of the new signiant paintwork matched the colour that prominently featured on Aquaria's Colonial Flag; the Admiral's home colony.

"Not bad" Parker muttered to himself, as he looped the Raptor into a low arc, and brought the ship to rest in the Starboard flight pod.

- I - I - I -

Quinn was finding his way to the CIC easily enough. He had been aboard one of these ships before moving to the Solaria. The redesign has made much of the interior of the ship very modern. The arching corridors and architecture of fifty years ago had been replaced by the newer hexagonal design that featured so prominently in contemporary Battlestars. Surprisingly he felt a little sad. The ship looked like it should on the outside, but the interior had changed. He had hoped the CIC hadn't suffered the same fate as the corridors.

He was wrong. He walked past the glass panelled doors that rotated as he entered, and saw a small and functional CIC, just like the Solaria.

"Officer on deck!"

A young cadet beside him had yelled, and instantly everyone in the room stood to attention.

"As you were" Quinn said, walking up to the combat table, everyone else going back to their duties. He looked around the room. "Where's the Admiral?"

The cadet moved forward, even though the question wasn't directed at him. "Still on Picon sir. He said he would be here in two hours."

"Good, cadet...?"

"Resno sir"

"First assignment?"

"Yes sir." He allowed himself a small smile.

"Good. Remember it well. It only happens once." Resno nodded. "What's our status?"

"Only half the crew are on board sir, maybe 1200 or so. The rest we pick up at Canceron. In terms of hardware we're fully loaded with Raptors but only have a single squadron of twenty vipers, again the rest we get at Canceron. Just waiting on the Tylium supply from Fairlight and we'll be ready for test runs. Oh and we've got a full stock of munitions too."

Quinn starred at him. "So what's the delay?"

The cadet was nervous, but did a good job of hiding it. "Something about paperwork sir... er... the Admiral didn't fill something out-"

Quinn let out a laugh, which distracted other crewmembers in CIC. "Yeah, that's Jonathan for you. The Admiral'll order you to do something then work out how to officially sanction it later. Doesn't surprise me in the least we don't have fuel. Anything else"

"Yes sir, we're doing a test of the CNP system in about twenty minutes."

- I - I - I -

Quinn settled into his quarters, laying on his bed for the first time. Hard, he thought. Quinn stood up and checked the mattress. It was as textually smooth as regulations would allow. He smiled to himself. His first week on the Solaria was painful as well, but then he found out a practical joke had been played on him. He found small metallic ornaments had been shoved just inside the lining, giving him sleepless nights. This time though, it was just the mattress to blame.

Quinn was crossing to his dresser to put his clothes away when he felt the room shimmer. It felt familiar, but needed to check. He crossed to the phone and got CIC.

"Did we just jump?"

Cadet Resno was on the other end. "Aye sir, we brought the CNP system up but it activated the FTL and before we could shut it down we jumped away."

Quinn was worried. That kind of FTL displacement shockwave at close quarters could easily have caused considerable damage to the station and surrounding ships. "I'm on my way"

- I - I - I -

Quinn entered CIC to see everyone busy about their station. "Sitrep?"

"Sir, we've jumped some distance from the colonies. Closest is Aerilon at a guess. But navigation is shot to hell, we're trying to get everything back."

"The CNP is a network protocol, it doesn't actually instruct any local system - any idea what caused the jump?"

Another technician stepped up to Quinn - Lambert he thought his name was. "We're still checking but it looks like a virus entered the system when the CNP was launched."

Quinn picked up the phone. "Get me the Master at Arms."

- I - I - I -

It didn't take long for Quinn to track down who was responsible. He entered the room and looked through the thick bulletproof glass of the cell. A man sat by the solitary table, swamped by two marines armed with rifles.

"Come to see the weirdo, sir?" said Grendel, the Master at Arms.

"Who is he?" asked Quinn, ignoring the comment.

"He says his name is Simon, one of the engineers working in the drive room."

"Did he put up a fight?"

"That's the weird part. He just walked up and surrendered to us."

Quinn waited for a moment, then stepped through to the cell. Simon looked up, the light showing the sweat that was coming down his dark skin.

"Simon, was it? I'm Colonel Quinn. I understand you sabotaged my ship."

Simon shook his head. "Saved it."

"What?"

"From the holocaust. You're one of the lucky ones. I couldn't go through with it."

Quinn stepped up to the man. "Go through with what?"

"Have you ever wondered what happened to the Cylons for the last forty years? No one has seen them, heard from them. You don't even know what they... look like".

Those last words worried Quinn, but he let a growing and increasingly sickening thought in the back of his mind stay there for now. "Who are you?"

"I'm Number Four. I was created twenty five years ago." He stared straight into Quinn' eyes. "I'm a Cylon"

Quinn allowed himself a smile. Instead of metallic ornaments in his bed, he was being joked on with morons. He half expected that overweight stripper Nellis had surprised him with on Picon last year to come bursting through the door. "A Cylon?"

"Yes, and had you stayed at Fairlight station, you would've died too."

"That's not funny"

"It wasn't meant to be". Simon sat back in his chair. The restraints holding his hands became visible from under the table. Quinn felt it unnecessary but then again, if he was a Cylon he'd rather have him shackled.

"Look" Simon began, "I spent three long years hiding in the fleet, moving from ship to ship, learning ways to destroy the various models of Battlestars. Then last year that scientist, Baltar, gave us the means to our goal."

"You mean the CNP?"

"It has a backdoor. Far easy to exploit, too."

"I can't believe Baltar would miss that."

"Normally he wouldn't, but his assistant made sure it would be in place. She can be very... persuasive"

Quinn studied him. "If you are who you say you are... why the change of heart?"

Simon lowered his head. "I've grown attached to humans. I feel the plan is wrong. We shouldn't be destroying humanity, we should be embracing it."

The hairs on the back of Quinn' neck stood up. Until now he thought, assuming this Simon was telling the truth, that any war the Cylons had would be directed at the Colonial military. But now he started to worry about the colonies.

Forty years. That time had show the colonies grow considerably in terms of military strength. But if the Colonials had grown that much, then the Cylons...

Quinn left the room, but shouted orders to the guards. "He stays put, no one enters, and for frak's sake keep him alive"

- I - I - I -

The bright sunlight overhead dazzled Bragen as he drove up to the park near the wharf. He looked out the window down to the business district in the city of Loki, one of Leonis' most profitable areas.

Not that it gave him any benefits. His sunglasses were scratched after years of mistreatment, and finally conceded his wife was right; he needed a new pair. That would mean spending money. He turned the car off and turned to his left. Marie was still engrossed in her magazine. Bragen resisted the urge for sarcasm, but he couldn't help it.

"Nice that we had this long conversation on the way over. Good thing we did cos I'm going away for such a long time."

Marie closed the magazine quickly it made a slapping noise. The little girl in the carseat behind them stirred as she slept.

"I didn't ask for you to do this" Marie began. "You could've taken lots of other jobs closer to home."

"We discussed this" Bragen replied, remembering how often he'd said those three words over the past month. "We need the money. This job gives us the most in the fastest time."

"But three months Bragen... you'll miss Tara's first words, her first steps..."

Bragen opened the door and stepped out. He opened the hatch at the back and pulled his big dufflebag out. Marie was already going round the car to the driver's door. Bragen looked at her.

"What, you're not even gonna come see me off?"

"Look in the back seat." Marie indicated, "Tara's still asleep, you know how grumpy she gets if you wake her from a nap."

Bragen thought for a moment then slammed the hatch down, a little harder than he should've. A small whimper was heard from the back seat. Marie gave Bragen a pissed off look. Bragen just smiled.

Ten minutes later they were walking along the pier, the large shape of the cold storage vessel DeepFreeze was parked in its berth beside them. Tara was in Bragen's arms, laughing at the birds circling overhead. Up ahead, other family members were saying goodbye to crewmembers boarding the ship. The sun was really hot today.

"How's the head?" Marie asked, not taking her eyes off the pier.

"Let it go, I'm fine".

"Dan-"

"Don't do this Marie, not today. I've got enough meds to help me through the time away."

Bragen knew Marie would bring this up until he was blue in the face. It was her way of reminding him he can't run from the past. She was good about it, but at times it got annoying. Being 'protective' she called it.

They stopped at the ramp for No. 2 pier. No one was on it. "Workman's entrance?" Marie said with a small smile.

"Yep. OK pumpkin, daddy will see you in three months. Be good to mummy ok?" Tara smiled.

"Mom".

Marie and Bragen both stared at Tara, who was grinning at them. "Did she just-"

"Yes I think so..." Marie took Tara from Bragen, and he put his arm around them both.

"You're my ladies. Remember that. It won't be that long I promise"

Marie kissed him and he turned, walking up the plank backwards, waving like an idiot to Tara, who was laughing at him. When he reached the door he turned and put his bag down just inside the airlock.

Immediately he knew something was wrong. People were moving frantically in the corridor inside the ship. A yellow klaxon was on, but he knew they were still an hour from launch. Outside, a commotion had started at No. 1 pier, with people rushing into the ship, some falling off the ramp onto the hard concrete below.

"What the frak...?"

Then someone in the crowd yelled out. He was holding a wireless radio.

"The Cylons are coming!"

All at once Bragen knew what he had to do. He yelled out to Marie, who had started to walk back to the car.

"Marie! Get back here now!"

Marie turned and looked at him. "What?" She could barely hear him.

"Get on the frakking ship!"

Marie looked confused. "What? Why? Look, I'll go get her bottle first" She turned back towards the car.

Bragen screamed at her. "IF YOU DON'T GET ON THE SHIP NOW YOU'RE GONNA DIE!"

Marie turned back, white as a sheet. Suddenly a building in the business district a few miles away caught their attention. Makatoshi Plaza, one of the largest in the city, seemed to shatter as fire and debris rained from the upper floors. Two more buildings exploded. Bragen could see contrails of what looks like a missile fly overhead towards a distant suburb.

Marie held onto Tara and ran for the ramp. Bragen held the door, which he could now feel was starting to close on automatics. Below his feet, he could feel the vibrations of the drive engines powering up.

"Hurry!"

Marie had reached the bottom of the ramp. Only a few more seconds. Above them, an inhuman whining noise could be heard, and bat-like aircraft filled the skies above the city. More buildings exploded and were burning.

An alarm went off beside Bragen. Emergency override. The hatch suddenly pushed with all its hydraulic might, forcing him back inside as it slammed shut.

"No! NOOOO!"

Outside, the small ship hummed, then a flash of light erupted in the space the DeepFreeze occupied, and FTL'd away. The shockwave blew Marie off the ramp, and back thirty feet onto the loading area. She rolled around, clutching at the broken leg. All around people were running, bleeding, dying. People were yelling but she couldn't hear anything. The shockwave had shattered her eardrums, instantly making her deaf. Blood poured out of her ears, and her vision was blurry.

In the skies the bat-like aircraft were gone, which worried her. Then she came to her senses. She looked around, scanning the area for any sign of her target – then she saw the purple.

Tara's purple dress. She was lying face down. A pool of blood surrounded her.

Marie tried to crawl over but found both her legs now wouldn't work. She tried to call out, but nothing happened. She lay on her back and looked up. The last image she ever saw before the darkness took her was the fiery red tip of the warhead, ready to take her into the arms of the Gods.

- I - I - I -

Quinn entered CIC. "Sitrep?"

Resno looked up. "We're still stuck here sir. FTL computers are down, but engineers are reporting they should have them back under our control within the hour."

Quinn slammed his hands on the desk. "Frak it!"

Everyone in the room stared at him. He knew he had their attention now, whether he wanted it or not. He hesitated. Not many of the CIC crew were from the Solaria, so they wouldn't know about his insecurities. But now wasn't the time for that. With Nellis far away, he knew he had to act. And act fast.

"Action stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. Mr Resno, order the deck chiefs to strip the CNP out of the Vipers and Raptors, I don't want a single plane in the air until that happens. Kill Neptune's network too"

"Aye sir".

"Mr Lambert, contact Picon Fleet Headquarters, tell them to watch for enemy ships and to move the President to a secure location"

"Sir?"

"You have hearing problems, Lambert?"

"No... no sir". Lambert moved off to communications.

Quinn then turned to the others in the room. "Helm, ahead full. Give us some speed. Weapons, have triple A stand by for assault batteries. What's the proper status on the fuel?"

Another tech, Mathias, turned to look at Quinn. "About 6% of reserves, and only half the Vipers have been fuelled yet."

"Why so low?"

"Engineers and dockworkers didn't want a Battlestar fully laden with fuel while they worked."

"Figures, but I would've hoped-"

Quinn stopped and starred at Lambert. He was as white as a sheet.

"What?"

"Sir" Lambert started, his voice breaking slightly, "It's Picon Fleet Headquarters sir... they've been nuked"

The room fell silent, save for the loud klaxon blaring through the speakers.

"A massive Cylon attack force has appeared above every major colony. Fleet yards above Scorpia, Sagitarron and Canceron have fallen, and... Aquaria, sir. Fairlight station has been destroyed too."

All eyes went to Quinn. He knew he'd have his own command one day, just not like this.

"I am assuming full command of this vessel. Once we're FTL capable we'll jump to the nearest Tylium supply depot and attempt a resupply. Hopefully we can get as much as we can before being attacked."

Resno stepped forward, his face showing what everyone was feeling. "Sir, what about the colonies? If the Cylons are using nukes-"

Lambert broke in. "The Cylons are using nukes all over the system. In places where they aren't, Basestars have been spotted entering the atmospheres and ground forces have been deployed. It's a Gods-damned invasion."

"It's more than that" began Quinn, "It's genocide. They want us dead."

Resno was a wreck waiting to happen. "Sir, we have to get back and-"

"And do WHAT? We're on an aging Battlestar with a failing computer system and bingo fuel. We aren't going anywhere"

Resno wanted to argue, as if he might sway what little argument he had. The rest of the CIC crew looked equally drained.

Quinn knew he had to hold it together. His fiancée was back on the Solaria, and wondered if they had managed to jump, or had an equally remorseful Cylon on board.

He knew the next few hours would be critical.

- I - I - I -

"..I repeat, this is Major Valmar aboard Colonial Heavy 525, please respond."

Major Alex Valmar was part of a platoon of Viper jocks and Raptor pilots taking a military transport back to Picon, when all hell apparently broke out. She was the senior ranking officer on the civilian-borrowed vessel, and took command after various wireless communications confirmed a massive attack was happening against the colonies. She was trying Picon Fleet Headquarters, then Canceron Control, then anyone else who might be listening, but each time got nothing back.

A lieutenant in a flight suit came into the cockpit. The pilot of Colonial Heavy 525 nodded to him as he entered.

"Anything Sir? The men are getting a little jumpy back there"

Valmar threw the coms unit back against the console. "Nothing. Not a Gods damn thing. Whatever is going on out there happened so quickly and brutally it knocked out all the communications throughout the system."

"What about the other colonies? Tauron and Gemenon? They're far enough away-"

Valmar rubbed her eyes. She knew drinking with the pilots the night before they left was a bad idea. "The same. They're all... dead"

She knew she shouldn't have used that word but it snuck out. The pilot beside her breathed a heavy sigh. It was easy to see he was hiding his tears. The Lieutenant knelt down beside her, but made no attempt to lower his voice.

"So... now what? Where do we go? From the sounds of it the fleet's taking a hell of a pounding. We're like ammunition without guns back there, Major, those pilots need planes to fly-"

She stood up and grabbed his collar, her strength catching him off guard.

"You think I don't know that? Now we don't have the ability to co-ordinate who's still functioning and who isn't, so get back there and tell those pilots that have wireless receivers to monitor all the signals they can. If there's still a functioning Battlestar out there, we have to find it."

- I - I - I -

"Got it sir!"

Quinn looked up from the mountain of paperwork that was falling out of his hands. Reports from all over the system indicated the battle wasn't going well, if you could call it a battle at all. Cylon Basestars and even simple raider squadrons had destroyed around sixty five Battlestars now, including the Picon flagship Atlantia and its entire group. Pacifica, Zeus, Cassandra, all the big names in the fleet were down. Solaria, his former command, had been lost defending Aerilon, taking with it his beloved fiancée Petryce. Even the rugged Triton, the ship he was due to take command of before he backed out, had been destroyed, but had managed to ram a Basestar before she died. He had hoped the yell from Resno was the good news they'd all been been wanting.

"FTL restored?"

"Yes sir, and the CNP has been removed from all Vipers and Raptors, and from the Neptune herself."

"Good". Now it gets interesting, Quinn thought to himself. "Helm, lay in a course for the Odin refinery, stand by to jump when ready. Lieutenant, I want a dozen Vipers in the tubes ready to launch at a moment's notice."

Resno gave him a confused look, and almost missed the order. "Sir, I'm a-"

"You got promoted, we'll sort out the jewellery later. Stand by for jump."

Resno took a step back, and allowed a small but potent smile to himself. Lambert stepped up to Quinn. "Sir, the Odin refinery is inside the asteroid belt between Caprica and Leonis. You sure the Cylons won't be there?"

"That's what I'm hoping, but obviously there's no guarantee. The Cylons are too busy dealing with everyone else, they might not consider a supply depot for sublight ships to be a tactical advantage."

"Not yet anyway".

"No. But even if they did, this ship has teeth. If a Cylon gets in our way, we'll frak the lot of them."

"Sir..."

Quinn was already thumbing his nose through some reports. "Hmm?"

Lambert took a step closer, and lowered his voice. "I was just wondering sir... how did you know the attack was imminent?"

Quinn looked around CIC; no one else had heard him. "I had a contact that had reported worrying information. I had wanted to share that intel with Picon Command but ran out of time."

"A contact?"

Quinn stared at him. "Everything alright Lieutenant?"

Lambert cleared his collar. "Sir, I wasn't wanting to focus on that, but... well, you haven't chosen an EXO yet. I know many Commanders and Colonels don't keep secrets from each other, so..."

Quinn's eyes went back to the reports, but his mind was elsewhere. He didn't even hear the rest of Lambert's sentence. But Lambert was right; he hadn't chosen one. He was hoping that any second Nellis would walk in through the glass doors and everything would be as it was, that the burdens would now be lifted from his shoulders. But he knew that wasn't gonna be the case.

"You after the position?" he said finally.

Lambert smiled. "I was hoping for it. I mean this ship is seriously lacking in officer material and we are understaffed and I was hoping I was doing a good enough job here in CIC-"

"Alright alright, listen, we'll try it on a temporary basis" Quinn began. "You don't have proper training although I know many people on this ship don't. You'll need to step up your game if you're to keep it."

"But sir, with lack of candidates-"

Quinn turned fully to face him, giving Lambert his full, undivided and, as Lambert could tell, unwanted attention. "I'd much rather have Janley as my EXO."

"Janley?" Lambert said, slightly louder than he expected. Janley turned and looked over at the conversation. Quinn waved her off. "Sir, she's just a cadet, like over half the people on this ship. She can't-"

"Can't what? How do you know once she isn't thrown into the fray that she won't suddenly become the most talented and natural officer in the history of the twelve colonies? Besides, she's prettier than you."

And with that Quinn turned and walked away. Resno looked up. "Course plotted for the Odin Refinery sir".

Quinn looked back at Lambert. He was clearly trying to work out what Quinn had just said, or meant, and kept looking up and back at Janley.

Quinn smiled. "Jump."

- I - I - I -

The space rippled as the Neptune leapt into the asteroid belt. Almost immediately a rock smashed into the upper hull, causing minimal damage.

In CIC everyone held onto the consoles. Quinn moved to the combat table, looking up at the DRADIS screens.

"Status?"

Resno checked his screens. "Checkerboard is green. All systems online. DRADIS showing the refinery six kilometres to starboard and... no sign of enemy ships."

For now, Quinn thought. "Helm, ahead one half, two degrees down bubble, starboard turn 80 degrees."

Outside the huge lumbering bulk of the Neptune turned towards the refinery, a large six-tiered platform with bulging tanks beneath each. One ship was attached to the platform, a Tylium tanker. The other five tiers were empty.

From the base of the starboard flight pod, twelve vipers streaked out and headed for the refinery. Four Raptors left the same flight pod heading for the same destination.

In CIC, Quinn had the phone in his hand, trying to comfort and control the man on the other end.

"Please... PLEASE listen, Captain, we need your help-"

"Oh Gods... my family are dead... DEAD!"

The sobbing could be heard all over CIC. Quinn signalled Lambert to kill the speakers, and the room was plunged into silence again. Quinn thought for a moment, and then held the phones to his head.

"Captain... do you want revenge?"

"Uh... what?"

"Revenge, captain. Do you want to kill the bastards responsible for this?"

"Well... well, yeah, I do. Naturally I do, I can't believe you would ask-"

"Then shut the frak up and listen. Right now there's a handful of Colonial Vipers heading to your location. If you don't free up the fuel lines on one of your tanks, they have orders to open fire and destroy the central hub."

"But that will kill us!"

"Yeah, it will. Given the redundancy built into your refinery we can still take the fuel without your help. Now you can't get revenge if you're dead can you?"

"No...." He started crying again. Quinn slammed the phone down.

"I'm done talking with that frakker. Lambert, find out which berth we're docking at. Resno, take the ship in, but watch out for asteroids. Link up as soon as we're in range, and use a transport tube to evacuate the station. Might as well take the cry babies with us."

"Sir", Lambert started, "We're picking up a transmission from the Battlestar Galactica. Commander Adama has taken command of the fleet and asking all ships to rendezvous at Ragnar."

"Galactica? As in the soon-to-be-museum-ship Galactica? The fleets falling apart and that old ship is still flying AND is now our flagship?" Quinn couldn't believe it, but then again she was a tough ship. Adama wasn't the kind to lay down and die.

"Lambert, send an encoded message, tell them we will rendezvous with them as soon as we've refuelled."

"Yes sir, but there's a lot of jamming going on in the system. Can't guarantee the message will get through."

"Do your best." Quinn moved to the exit. "You have the conn."

- I - I - I -

Quinn entered the cell to find Simon on the floor and the two guards standing over him, their rifles reversed. Blood was on the handles.

"What the frak is going on?"

The two guards pulled away quickly, standing to attention. "Sir" said one of them, "we were just administering justice to the prisoner, sir".

"You mean beating the frak out of the only source of intel we have? You're both dismissed. Have the master at arms send two more guards down here. You'll be dealt with later."

The two guards filed out of the room, no emotion regarding what they just did registering on their faces. Quinn walked over to the crumpled form of Simon on the floor. His face was bloodied, and his left eye had a burst a blood vessel. Quinn resisted everything in his body to punching Simon in the face. Instead he grabbed him by the shoulders picked him up and slumped him back in his chair.

"Thanks" Simon said, blood spilling from his mouth.

"Don't. Don't even try. Millions are dying out there. Millions by the hours. Even if they survived the initial bombardments the colonies will uninhabitable long term due to the radioactive fallout."

"I told you, I didn't want this to happen."

"Then why didn't you come forward sooner! Why wait until now?"

"Because there's another Cylon on board."

That got Quinn's attention. He'd been so busy with the attacks and finding Simon he hadn't even thought about the possibility of another Cylon on board.

"What does he – or she – look like?"

"If you get me to a console I'll show you."

- I - I - I -

Mom.

Bragen woke up from a bad dream. He was curled up in a cabin, the single word still rolling around his brain. The slow sound of the engines throbbing away behind the bulkhead was keeping him up. His thoughts were of his wife and daughter, and of the family members left behind on Leonis.

And she had said 'mom'. The only word she ever said, or at least he ever heard her say. The tears came back.

The room shimmered again, and Bragen heard the FTL alarm. The ship had jumped seven times since they'd left Leonis. Every time they found a place to rest they jumped again. The Cylons kept showing up and chasing them.

He rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. He knew he had to make a choice. Either give up, or get off your ass. That's what his Pyramid coach had said in high school.

Bragen left the room and made it to the command deck. On his way through the corridors there were people lying down, crying as he had been. The lucky ones, he thought to himself. Maybe he should've stayed back on Leonis, and perished with his family. At least he wouldn't be put through the torment of what lay ahead. The command deck was very small and functional, but packed with people. The ship was only designed to run with around forty crew members, yet had maybe three times that. A large man with a beard standing near the starmap noticed Bragen enter.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you feelin'" he said. Bragen knew it was meant in kindness.

"Did we jump again Jacobs?" Bragen asked, starring up at the DRADIS screens.

"Yeah, 'nother raider appeared so we left. Didn't want to take any chances, eh?"

"I don't blame you." Bragen starred at the starmap to his right. They were now somewhere near Tauron.

Jacobs stared at him for a second, then tried to raise something that was one his mind. "Look... if you got any ideas ...we'd gladly hear them. You served in the colonial military, we haven't."

Bragen looked at him, and the others in the room. Most eyes were on him. Bragen went defensive.

"Look, people... I only served as a tech for two years aboard a Gunstar. Hardly command material."

"Are any of us?" Jacobs said, resting against the side of the starmap.

Bragen thought for a moment. He wanted to do what was right.

Mom.

He still could hear her voice. He closed his eyes. He could see her smile.

He opened them again, and turned back to the starmap.

"Alright... we need to get out of the shipping lanes. Let's try... here"

Bragen pointed to a messy point of the starmap far away from Tauron.

"The asteroid belt?"

"Yeah" said Bragen, "There's a little known Tylium refinery there we might be able to use."

- I - I - I -

Resno was checking his notes when a full squad of marines entered. They instantly raised their guns and focused on a man near communications. Quinn stood behind them.

"Mr Lambert, you're under arrest under suspicion of being a Cylon agent. You will will come with us immediately."

Lambert seemed shocked, then lunged forwards and reached under his console, pulling out a pistol and grabbing Janley nearby.

"I don't think so Colonel."

"There's no way out Lambert. One shot and you're dead."

"Yeah but I kill this female and it's one less you can procreate with."

Quinn didn't like what he was hearing. On one hand Lambert was simply delaying the inevitable, but on the other, he was correct; their species was being wiped out and they were gonna need to procreate sooner or later if they were to survive.

"You can drop the charade Aaron, it's over."

Lambert reacted to the name with surprise, then made his decision. "I guess I don't need this hostage anymore." Lambert pushed the pistol closer to her temple.

Quinn moved forward "Don't-"

BANG! A shot rang out. Quinn flinched, then looked at Janley.

She was fine. Alive. Uninjured.

But Lambert beside her had a small hole in his forehead. After a second, he released his grip of Janley, and fell to the ground, dead. Quinn looked back to the shooter.

It was Resno. He was holding a revolver, and still shaking. Quinn moved over and helped him lower the pistol.

"Nice shot!"

Resno looked to Quinn, surprised by the joy on the colonel's face.

"I... I used to be champion at my rifle range on Aquaria."

"Lieutenant, you just saved this ship." Quinn leaned in closer. "And I think Janley over there might want to thank you in her own special way."

Resno looked at Janley. She smiled back at him. Like him, she was on her first mission. He remembered her briefly from the ride from Aquaria to Fairlight station.

"Sergeant, clear up the body, take it down to the morgue. Resno?"

"Sir?" He sounded a little too eager, but Quinn was happy to see confidence rising in the young man's eyes.

"Continue with the resupply. Let me know when it's done."

Quinn started to leave. Resno called after him. "Where will you be sir?"

"Planning our fight back."

- I - I - I -

"DRADIS contact!"

The pilot learned forward to get a better look. Behind him, Valmar looked over his shoulder, a cup of water in her hands.

"Who is it? Max, spin the drives."

Another fighter pilot had taken the co-pilots seat, and starting the FTL prep.

The pilot struggled with his controls. "I'm not sure, DRADIS was due to be upgraded next month, too many bugs with this older version."

"We need a clearer picture to-"

"Colonial transponders! They're friendly. ID match confirms it."

Valmar grabbed the mic. "This is Colonial Heavy 525 to unidentified colonial vessel, please respond."

A burst of static, then "This is Colonial Freight Master Long Haul out of Picon. To whom am I speaking?"

"Long Haul, this is Major Alex Valmar of the Colonial military, my squad and I were en route to Picon when the fighting broke out."

There was a long pause, during which Valmar imagined the crew of the Long Haul were discussing what they should do. No doubt the Long Haul was carrying something of importance so it wouldn't surprise her if the ship FTL'd away in the next ten seconds.

"Colonial Heavy 525, we are transporting military equipment to Sagitarron. If you could validate your rank Major, then we will turn the consignment over to you."

Valmar looked puzzled. "Consignment? What exactly are you guys carrying?"

- I - I - I -

Simon stood upright, clearly worried. The guards trained their weapons on him, but Quinn waved them off.

"You... killed him?"

Quinn didn't seem to understand. "Yeah, why, is that a problem? Suddenly don't like it if your own kind get killed?"

"You have to jump the ship and get out of here."

"Jump? Why?"

Simon sat back down. "There's something else I haven't told you. It's about what happens when we die."

- I - I - I -

Deep in space two Cylons Basestars guarded a smaller ship, its arching architecture clearly not of human origin.

Inside, a man bearing a striking resemblance to Lambert walked down a corridor laced with spot lights and a big red strip down the walls, and entered a large room. Standing at a row of tables was a handful of people, who smiled as Lambert entered. A woman with long brown hair had her hand in a water-filled console.

"How did it go?" asked a blonde woman.

"Not good" said Lambert. "They found me out before I was able to destroy or disable the ship."

"A pity" said a tall brunette. "Still, we have another on board that can help remedy that."

"Somehow I doubt that. They found me fairly quickly. They even referred to me as Aaron."

Lambert starred at a man across the room that looked exactly like Simon.

"He must've switched sides" Simon said. "We've had reports of many sympathisers turning up after the attacks began. Sadly, it appears my line is weaker-minded than the rest of you."

"Then he'll be boxed when he downloads like the others" an older man wearing a blue tunic said, stepping down from a raised platform. "We can't allow fifth columnist personalities to appear in the fleet. It would be bad for morale."

"What do you want me to do?" Lambert asked. "I have the co-ordinates of the Neptune. Wouldn't be hard to kill it. She doesn't have many Vipers on board."

"No" the old man said. "Leave the Neptune to us. I want you to travel to Caprica. Turns out we weren't as thorough as we wanted. We have an opportunity to study the survivors and maybe run a few experiments. Simon has already focused his sights on a place in the Deshault mountains. I want you and a Six to head up a team focusing on Human/Cylon procreation. Can you handle that?"

Lambert smiled. "Of course."

- I - I - I -

Quinn entered CIC to see a team finishing the cleanup of Lambert's death. Resno was looking at DRADIS.

"Sir refuelling is going well. We're at fifty two percent and rising."

"Is that all the tanks?" Quinn asked.

"Well... it's the main tanks sir. We were focusing on the primaries first-"

Quinn shook his head. "No no no, this ship has more redundancy than you can imagine. She's got primary, secondary and even tertiary tanks, so fill 'em all. This might be the last resupply we ever get to do."

Resno nodded. "Aye sir." He moved to his console and pressed a few buttons. After a few seconds "Sir, we're now at thirty seven percent.

"Frak." Quinn and Resno shared a smile. Quinn thought for a moment.

"Resno... get the tanker docked at the station to start filling up, just in case."

"Aye s-"

"DRADIS contact!"

Quinn spun round to see Janley, who had taken Lambert's duties.

"ID?"

"Incoming... sir they're Colonial. Two ships, a transport and a freighter." Janley smiled.

"Thank the Gods" Quinn said to himself.

Janley put her hand to her ear. "Sir, I'm receiving communications."

"On speaker".

The speaker burst into life with static, which then settled down.

"...repeat, this is Colonial Heavy 525 to unidentified Battlestar, please respond."

Quinn grabbed the phone. "This is the Battlestar Neptune to Colonial Heavy 525. You don't know how glad we are to hear your voice."

Shrills and laughter could be heard in the background of the transmission.

"Sir this is Major Alex Valmar, requesting permission to dock. I've got about fifty pilots eager to help out anyway they can."

"Unfortunately Major we only have twenty planes, but we'll gladly take any survivors we can at this point."

"I think we can help you out there" she replied.

- I - I - I -

"Forty Vipers?"

Lesterson, the deck chief, was amazed. The tall skinny man with glasses was rubbing his hands through his hair.

"That's what they said" Quinn began, "The freighter was carrying the birds en route to Sagitarron when the attacks broke out. There's also a dozen Raptors on board. Jackpot I say."

Colonial Heavy 525 had pulled into the port flight pod, and the crews were now disembarking. Pilots were walking past saluting as they went. Quinn had to get used to it, he told himself. Finally a tall woman with striking red hair moved to stand before him, and saluted him.

"Sir, Major Alex Valmar, requesting permission to come aboard."

"Granted" he said ,with a smile too obvious to hide. He saluted her back and then shook her hand.

"It's so good to find survivors after this" she said, unable to hide her excitement as well.

"I know. And well done on finding the Vipers. Gods knows we needed them."

They started to walk down the deck, moving aside to allow pilots to pass, and people showing them where to go.

"Sir... how much have you heard about back home?"

Quinn didn't want to give too much away with his expression, but felt he failed miserably. "I'm sorry Major, but the news isn't good. The fleet is all but gone. We've had reports of nuclear detonations on all twelve colonies, and above almost all the major cities. But after a while we stopped receiving reports. I guess because..."

He trailed off, and her expression showed him he needn't continue. The speaker above his head rang out.

"Colonel Quinn, please contact CIC."

Quinn moved to the wall and grabbed the nearest handset. "This is Quinn."

"Resno here sir. We've had another DRADIS contact. A small storage ship called the DeepFreeze. CBDR, docking in 10 minutes."

"Good to hear. Tell the refuelers to hurry up. I wanna get the frak out of here."

- I - I - I -

The resupply had gone well. Pilots from Neptune were ferried over to the freighter and one by one the Vipers were refuelled and launched to be picked up by Neptune's waiting flight pods. Lesterson had shuffled things around so the pods now had thirty birds each, and Kebble, one of Valmar's older pilots, was brought in to serve as deck chief for the port flight pod, which up until now had been essentially dormant due to the refit. The Raptors were also distributed evenly.

In CIC, Quinn was watching over all the proceedings when Bragen entered.

"Sir."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Bragen, I hear the crew of the DeepFreeze are grateful for your decision making."

"I simply pointed at a map and made a decision" he shrugged.

"Sometimes they're the best. Stick around, CIC could use someone like you."

Bragen was about to answer when Janley yelled out. "DRADIS contact! Multiple signals, bearing 241 carem 325, CBDR."

"Friendly?"

Janley looked up. "I don't think so."

Outside three Basestars had jumped into range on the outskirts on the asteroid field, and had instantly launched raiders. The large ships began to move in towards the refinery in the distance.

"How long?" asked Quinn.

"They'll be on us in five minutes." Janley said.

"Frak it... Mr Resno, tell the civilian ships to jump to the failsafe co-ordinates, and stand by to jump ourselves."

"Sir, the Tylium tanker is still filling up. She'll be done in five minutes."

Quinn smiled. "Ah well... it looks like we get to fight after all." Quinn turned and walked with presence towards the combat table, keeping an eye on the DRADIS screens. All doubt that had once crossed his mind was gone. This was his ship. His crew. And he'd be damned if anyone was gonna take that away. "Action stations, set condition one throughout the ship, launch all alert Vipers, get a firing solution on the incoming targets."

Outside twenty vipers roared out of the starboard launch tubes and headed straight for the enemy. Valmar looked around at her squad.

"Alright people, stay close, watch your vectors and don't hit any rocks."

"Firing solution acquired" Resno spluttered out, trying to keep track of everything.

Quinn pulled himself back to his full height, giving him a clean view of the DRADIS screens, completely covered in red dots. "All defensive batteries, open fire."

Inside the asteroid belt the skies were lit up as the Neptune threw a volley of fire at the incoming raiders. They ducked and weaved but most were destroyed by the flak. Those that made it through were cut down by the Vipers.

"Razorclaw, watch your six" said Valmar, as she ducked and weaved between fire from Neptune and asteroids came across her path. Below her, a raider was on the tail of a Viper. She levelled up her ship, put it into a spin at full burn and dived straight at the raider, guns blazing. The Raider stood no chance, and exploded in a fireball.

"Thanks Misfire" Razorclaw said to Valmar - her callsign - and carried on after two more raiders.

In CIC Bragen had stepped forward to look at the monitors. "Status of civilian ships?"

Resno looked up. "Sir, the DeepFreeze, the Long Haul and Colonial Heavy 525 have all jumped. The tanker is almost ready to go."

"Just a few more seconds..."

Janley's screen lit up. "Sir, incoming missiles from the Basestars, 30- no, 40 missiles."

"Have batteries alpha through delta switch to defensive fire and set triple A to three second intervals."

Quinn looked at Bragen, surprised. Bragen didn't even know he'd given the order. Resno looked at Bragen, then to Quinn. "Do it!" yelled Quinn.

Outside the defensive batteries changed their position and fired again, taking out many of the incoming missiles. A few got through, impacting on Neptune's rugged new skin.

Valmar watched as a raider took out two Vipers in a single straffing run. "Frak it guys, keep your eyes peeled."

At the refinery the Tylium tanker ripped its fuel lines away and jumped, blowing a few panels off the berth it was docked at. A fire broke out along the tier and a couple of tylium tanks exploded, throwing the station off its axis slightly. Retro rockets screamed to get itself back into position.

Resno saw it on DRADIS. "Sir, all civilian ships have jumped."

Quinn turned to Janley. "Bring 'em home."

Janley contacted the Vipers. "All wings Neptune, return to the flight pods immediately. We're leaving."

Quinn turned back to Resno. "Resno, time the FTL with the activation signal."

"Aye sir."

Bragen looked at Quinn. "What activation signal?"

In the belt Valmar finished off one last raider then turned back, heading for the port flight pod. As she touched down she raised her coms. "That's it, we're all on board. Get us moving!"

Janley looked up at Quinn. "All Vipers aboard."

Quinn released his grip on the combat table he didn't even know he was grabbing. "Jump. Resno, send the signal."

Outside, the weapons fire from Neptune died, just as a massive volley of missiles hurtled towards her. In an instant, the space around her rippled and she jumped away. A second later, the Tylium refinery exploded with the brilliance of a supernova, a nuclear shockwave spreading outwards, claiming all raiders in its path. One of the Basestars jumped away, but other two were torn apart.

- I - I - I -

Four ships drifted slowly in the heavens, a bright star shone in the distance. An instant later the large hulk of a Battlestar appeared above them.

In CIC, Quinn was looking at the reports. Three Vipers lost, another six people killed when missiles hit the ship. The Tylium tanker was 100% full and Neptune, with all of her fuel tanks, held 85%. By flooding the Viper tanks in the flight pods to capacity, Neptune could drain the Tylium tanker and be at damn near capacity. Then maybe even cut the Tylium tanker loose.

Quinn stopped and thought for a moment, and decided that would make for the beginnings of a good plan.

Valmar entered. "They're ready."

- I - I - I -

Down in the starboard hanger, most of the crew were assembled. Bragen, Lesterson, Kebble, Janley and Resno all stood side by side. Valmar and Quinn entered, and everyone saluted.

"As you were." Everyone stood at ease.

Quinn thought for a moment, then chose his words. "I can't give you the words you want to hear. I can't mend the pain we're feeling, or bring back the ones we've lost. But I do know, here and now, that the people on this ship have a job to do. We're just one warship, but we're gonna give them one hell of a war. We might not survive. We might not win. But we'll go in, guns blazing, and make sure the twelve colonies of man are not forgotten."

Quinn stepped up to the main group. "As you know, there aren't many officers on this ship, so we have to improvise. I am hearby promoting Bragen to be my EXO. Valmar will be the CAG. Other assignments will be distributed as needed."

"What about you?" Valmar said.

Quinn was confused. "Sorry... what?"

"Sir, you're now in charge of this Battlestar, you shouldn't really hold the rank of colonel."

Bragen stepped forward and present Quinn with a small black box, inside which contained two shoulder pins with the rank of Commander. Quinn smiled, as Bragen saluted.

Everyone on the flight deck cheered. Quinn was speechless, but he didn't really want to say anymore.

- I - I - I -

In his cabin, Quinn was applying his new pins to his uniform. He was staring at himself in the mirror for a long time, before he realised someone was standing in the door.

"Didn't mean to startle you" said Bragen, slowly entering.

"Not at all." Quinn directed him to a chair, and they both sat. Quinn poured them both a drink.

Quinn began "I meant everything I said down on the flight deck. I don't have a plan for us. I don't know how things are gonna turn out. But I do know people when I meet them, and I know you're gonna be fine as an EXO."

"Thank you. I'll try not to let you down."

Quinn leaned back. "And I hear you've had experience in the military?"

Bragen allowed himself a small smile. "Yes sir, although it wouldn't be much help to you. I can't remember much of it. An incident on Leonis a few years ago made me lose my memory of certain events."

"That's unfortunate. Maybe one day you'll be able to remember what you've lost."

Bragen shrugged. "Maybe I don't want to. So what will you miss most? What do you want at the end of all this, when all this is over?"

"I wanna swim in the waters of Aquaria again. You?"

"I just want a new set of sunglasses."

Quinn laughed and raised his glass. "To the Neptune."

They clinked their glasses together and drank. Bragen put his glass down and stood up, heading for the door. "I'd better get back to work, Commander. Can't have the only officers on board getting drunk on the last bottle of Libran whisky in the universe."

Quinn smiled. "Call me Ben. It's good to have you on board, Colonel Bragen."

Bragen smiled back. "Call me Daniel."

END OF DAY ONE