Number One had finished going over Number Four's report of the vipers in Promar Sector System 339. This would logically have to be the work of the GALACTICA, she thought. After all, the other battlestar - or battlecruiser - whatever it was, was last reported away in the Anotian Sector . But completely agreeing with Number Four's assessment was difficult for her to do. The telemetry from the destroyed sentinel post and the raider that had escaped after destroying one of the vipers showed that they were all mark VII's. Intelligence indicated that there were few of those models on the GALACTICA - the rest being that of the older mark II, so why would Commander Adama risk sending his most advanced fighter type on such a simple mission like this? Also, images from the listening posts sensor array showed that these fighters had their identifier emblems and tail numbers obliterated - just like the wrecked ones found over Sentinel Post Epsilon Alpha, and all of those were Mark VII's as well.
Well, she finally thought to herself, we still stay with the base assumption that there is only one battlestar in the Promar Sector. If there were others there, they would eventually be found and destroyed by the concentration of forces there, and if this other group hiding nearby in Valhalla Station made a mistake, then they will be quickly dealt with as well...
On the PEGASUS, Anderson and Landon were settling into their new squadrons. Ensign Anderson had been assigned to Spar One while Landon had been assigned to Knight Three. The other members of their squadrons had welcomed them in, and their respective squadron commanders had given them their assignments, but neither of them could forget the mission that gotten them their wings - and saw a close friend die. It was the lot of a viper pilot, they knew, but it still was something to think about. Their new call-signs had been accepted by the wing call-sign committee: Landon was now 'Lurker', while Anderson was called 'Sharpie'. When they flew their first combat patrols tomorrow, then those call-signs will officially become a part of them. Until then, they would take advantage of the squadron down-time before they got the word to head to the ready room at the next watch.
In an unlit observation lounge - located in the base of the forward section of the PEGASUS, two people were sitting on a bench holding each other's hands and looking out of the window into deep space, which because of the location of the lounge was actually the entire floor. Made out of several pieces of clear dura-steel - each one several inches thick, it did take a little getting used to, but it was for this 'attraction' that Lt. Carla Halley liked it. It was a much nicer view than from the cockpit of her viper. Chief George Krag - who was the other occupant in the lounge - didn't really care for the seclusion of the lounge, as he preferred the hustle and bustle of the landing bay, but he knew that Carla loved this place and it was private...
"I can see that you're brooding about something, Carla", Krag gently said. Halley squeezed his hand and looked at him.
"I welcomed Ensign Anderson to the squadron a little while ago", she replied, "He was one of the rooks on the patrol that had that casualty earlier. I was thinking that it was a hell of a way to introduce a new pilot to the realities of the service".
"I could repeat verbatim all of the one-liners about death being a reality for all those in uniform", Krag said, "but it will still all boil down to the adage that life must go on. One day, our young crewmen won't have to face death like they do every day out here, and will have a future to look forward to; like a place to call home, and a family to raise".
"Do you include us in that statement, George?", Halley asked huskily. Nodding, Krag leaned over and kissed her on the lips. After breaking the kiss, Halley leaned her head onto Krag's shoulder. There had to be hope for the future, even though others would lose their lives. She knew that Higgins would still brood over the loss of one of his trainees, but it would not stop him, or any of them from doing their jobs. The hope that this hit-and-run quest for survival will someday end was what kept them all sane - and all going.
Lt. Higgins was talking with Ensign Vansen back in the wing administration annex about the rest of midshipmen and their training. The death of Dyer had indeed hit Higgins - and all of the other midshipmen hard, but dwelling on 'what-ifs' would not be helpful at all. It seemed rather callous, but Higgins thought that maybe some good would come out of Dyer's death. It would make the other trainees appreciate life more, and that would make them all a lot smarter. Tomorrow, they would start active flying on combat patrols. Mourning the dead needed to be done for closure, but life had to be appreciated, and viper pilots understood that very well.
Colonel Tolen agreed with that conclusion as he finished reading Higgins' report. No one could be blamed for Dyer's death except for that Cylon agent - whose corpse was yielding valuable clues as to how they could be found out. Tolen was not inclined to think that there were others left on board the PEGASUS, but the vigil will still be kept. This was a warship, and by the Lords or Kobol, they will continue to war on all those who are a threat to humanity.
END OF BOOK FOUR