"The Thirteenth Colony"
by Bandbabe
Author's Note: I wrote this after watching the mini series. Feedback would be appreciated.
Summary: The Commander of Battlestar Galatica reflects on the significance of the thirteenth colony.
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica the mini-series (2003 Sci-Fi pictures) does not belong to me.
Long, long ago there was speak of the thirteenth colony. They settled in a place called Earth. For years, the story was regarded as a myth. Then forty-six years ago our world was destroyed. The twelve colonies were decimated by an enemy we thought we had defeated years earlier. An enemy we created. The Cylons would not be content until they destroyed all of humanity. They killed billions of people. Their attack was well thought out and executed. All that was left was about fifty thousand people.
Fifty thousand civilians protected by the sole remaining military vessel, Battlestar Galatica, escaped the clutches of Cylons' offense. We jumped far beyond the red line of known space. Then a promise was made. A myth became known as truth. Our new mission other than survival was to find Earth.
My father, Commander Adama, promised the survivors he would lead us to Earth. I wasn't surprised when that didn't happened. He passed away twelve years after the Cylon attack. I've been Commander of Galatica every since. The day after his funeral President Roslin told me his secret. I told her that she was right. When everyone realizes there is no Earth they will never forgive my father. Neither will they forgive her or me for keeping up the lie. I walked around the ship for hours after her revelation, wrestling to decide the best course of action. In the end, I couldn't find it in my heart to dispose the truth. It was then that I understood my father. Maybe the most I will ever understand him. Earth is our hope. Perhaps one day the search will lead us to a new world to settle of our own. Until that day we will continue travelling through space looking for the thirteenth colony.
Over the years Cylon attacks are something we encountered many times. Most distressful is that it comes from within. We are far from home. The Cylons travelling among us are unable to contact the rest of their race. However, the damage they can inflict on us is quite extensive. With the discovery of the first human-looking Cylon, PR representative Mr. Doral, we became open to the fact that enemies are among us. The majority of them don't even know that they are Cylons until their timer goes off, a fact we learned from Dr. Baltar. He was killed by a sleeper Cylon a few years after we jumped. However, not before he disclosed all he knew about their plans. The work he left behind was the basis for all our methods for telling who is Cylon and who is not. We became extremely efficient. Ironically, some people who worked with us to discover methods later turned out to be Cylons themselves. The last Cylon attack was over thirteen years ago. But we know that more could be amongst us.
Our quest has yielded a multitude of positive consequences. We are chartering previously unexplored space. We have visited many worlds, rich in resources and with appearances and properties that one can only dream of. Forty-six years later and humanity has grown from fifty thousand to over eight-seven thousand. Battlestar Galatica is now joined by a smaller ship called Red Adama, named in tribute to my father. It was built with materials acquired from the many alien worlds we have explored.
In the thirty plus years that I've been Commander I have come close to optimism. Many times. Sorrow and tragedy it seems much more. But I was unprepared to find a planet with people who seem just like us. My first impulse 'Cylon!' We stayed out of sight and scanned the planet. Only seven thousand people registered. What was striking was that they all passed our tests. Contact would be the only way to make sure if they were not Cylons.
For days I deliberated. We checked our findings time and time again. We listened to their communications. It was exciting and somewhat unnerving to note similarities between us and them. In confidence one night I looked to Starbuck. Her eyes were asking the same question as mine. Only I chose to say it aloud.
"Could this be the thirteenth colony?"
Our question hung in the air.
THE END
Author's Note: I wrote this after watching the mini series. Feedback would be appreciated.
Summary: The Commander of Battlestar Galatica reflects on the significance of the thirteenth colony.
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica the mini-series (2003 Sci-Fi pictures) does not belong to me.
Long, long ago there was speak of the thirteenth colony. They settled in a place called Earth. For years, the story was regarded as a myth. Then forty-six years ago our world was destroyed. The twelve colonies were decimated by an enemy we thought we had defeated years earlier. An enemy we created. The Cylons would not be content until they destroyed all of humanity. They killed billions of people. Their attack was well thought out and executed. All that was left was about fifty thousand people.
Fifty thousand civilians protected by the sole remaining military vessel, Battlestar Galatica, escaped the clutches of Cylons' offense. We jumped far beyond the red line of known space. Then a promise was made. A myth became known as truth. Our new mission other than survival was to find Earth.
My father, Commander Adama, promised the survivors he would lead us to Earth. I wasn't surprised when that didn't happened. He passed away twelve years after the Cylon attack. I've been Commander of Galatica every since. The day after his funeral President Roslin told me his secret. I told her that she was right. When everyone realizes there is no Earth they will never forgive my father. Neither will they forgive her or me for keeping up the lie. I walked around the ship for hours after her revelation, wrestling to decide the best course of action. In the end, I couldn't find it in my heart to dispose the truth. It was then that I understood my father. Maybe the most I will ever understand him. Earth is our hope. Perhaps one day the search will lead us to a new world to settle of our own. Until that day we will continue travelling through space looking for the thirteenth colony.
Over the years Cylon attacks are something we encountered many times. Most distressful is that it comes from within. We are far from home. The Cylons travelling among us are unable to contact the rest of their race. However, the damage they can inflict on us is quite extensive. With the discovery of the first human-looking Cylon, PR representative Mr. Doral, we became open to the fact that enemies are among us. The majority of them don't even know that they are Cylons until their timer goes off, a fact we learned from Dr. Baltar. He was killed by a sleeper Cylon a few years after we jumped. However, not before he disclosed all he knew about their plans. The work he left behind was the basis for all our methods for telling who is Cylon and who is not. We became extremely efficient. Ironically, some people who worked with us to discover methods later turned out to be Cylons themselves. The last Cylon attack was over thirteen years ago. But we know that more could be amongst us.
Our quest has yielded a multitude of positive consequences. We are chartering previously unexplored space. We have visited many worlds, rich in resources and with appearances and properties that one can only dream of. Forty-six years later and humanity has grown from fifty thousand to over eight-seven thousand. Battlestar Galatica is now joined by a smaller ship called Red Adama, named in tribute to my father. It was built with materials acquired from the many alien worlds we have explored.
In the thirty plus years that I've been Commander I have come close to optimism. Many times. Sorrow and tragedy it seems much more. But I was unprepared to find a planet with people who seem just like us. My first impulse 'Cylon!' We stayed out of sight and scanned the planet. Only seven thousand people registered. What was striking was that they all passed our tests. Contact would be the only way to make sure if they were not Cylons.
For days I deliberated. We checked our findings time and time again. We listened to their communications. It was exciting and somewhat unnerving to note similarities between us and them. In confidence one night I looked to Starbuck. Her eyes were asking the same question as mine. Only I chose to say it aloud.
"Could this be the thirteenth colony?"
Our question hung in the air.
THE END