Tricia and Syke were enjoying some off-duty time sitting alone in an observation cubicle on the underside of the PEGASUS. Both were gazing out at the star field. They had sat quietly for some time. Both were holding hands. At last, Tricia spoke.
"I hope that Chunks and the rest of the squadron are going to be okay", Tricia said.
"Me too", Syke replied, "It would have been great to give them all a proper send-off before we had to drop them off. I'm hoping that the GOLIATH doesn't forget to pick them up".
"Well, I don't know if Father made the right decision in giving the GOLIATH eighteen of our vipers and another raptor, despite Black Knight wing's presence on board the PEGASUS", Tricia said after a pause, "because we're still no closer to finding the GALACTICA".
"Hey, right or wrong, your father made the decision. It's something that he has to live with", Syke gently reminded her.
Tricia sighed, realizing that Syke was right. "Father has a huge burden to bear", she said, "I do worry about him so much".
"So do we all", Syke replied, "but he got us this far, and we're still battleworthy. All of the crew revere him and will do anything for him, so lets keep the faith, okay? Besides", he continued with a smile, "aren't we here for us, and to take our minds off work for a while?". He squeezed her hand.
"Sorry, Gene", Tricia replied, "you're right, but it's a daughter worrying about her father, you know".
"I'd be surprised if you didn't worry, Tricia", Syke said, "but let's just enjoy the view for a while longer before going up to the O-club for dinner, okay?".
Tricia nodded. The extra food supplies that the WARLOCK had delivered had made Lieutenant Bowles very happy, and had enabled him to hone his culinary skills. Now the O-club had an excellent buffet which the pilots of both wings had readily availed themselves of. Also, some of the juices extracted from various fruits and vegetables had been expertly fermented by Bowles into classic 'engine room hooch'. Making booze was bordering on breaking the rules, true. But Bowles knew how to make sure that (a) the brew was safe to drink and (b) that no person drank more than was advisable. He wanted to keep the pilots happy, not blitzed out of their brains!
Commander Cain may have been a person insisting on military efficiency, but he knew what rules were meant to be enforced, and which ones could be bent. He had quietly sampled a glass of 'Bowles Brew Number Five' earlier after having a meal from the o-club buffet and - after wiping the tears from his eyes after the first swallow - knew that Bowles could be trusted with his concoction. And if there was an excessive amount made, well...it could always be used as paint stripper.
He read the latest intelligence reports from Commander Hawke, courtesy of Colonel Lennox. There was nothing that indicated the current position of the GALACTICA and the civilian convoy of refugees. The only real intel regarding the Promar Sector was that the tin-heads were expanding their raider patrols and probes, which would make their mission all the harder. Still, the PEGASUS had lasted this long, and now with frequent resupply trips promised by Hawke, it meant that more effort could be devoted to the search rather than for foraging.
He smiled, remembering the emblem of the new squadron that Lt. Benson had shown him before the deployment. The motto emblazoned under the picture of a winged sword - 'Undefeated and Unforsaken' - was appropriate in more ways than one. It could also apply to this battlestar. Despite the loss of the colonies, as long as they survived, they were undefeated, and thanks to Hawke and the GOLIATH, they were also unforsaken. And when they finally caught up with the GALACTICA, they could start to turn things around in order to defeat the Cylons, and to provide a fresh start for humanity.
END OF BOOK SEVEN