"The Galactica Goes Dry," BSG gen
Aug. 11th, 2008 03:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunnyskywalkerTime to stop fiddling with this one. For notes on the story's origin, check my WIP list.
Title: The Galactica Goes Dry
Fandom: new Battlestar Galactica (Disclaimer),
Categories: Gen (with reference to Sharon/Helo), PG, Parody
Word Count: 963
Summary: Soon after the events of Maelstrom, a riot at Joe's Bar heralds the greatest crisis the Colonial fleet has ever faced: they have completely run out of alcohol.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
Dee swallowed and pulled herself up straighter. Adama frowned. Dee didn't rattle easily.
"It's Joe's, sir. There's been a riot."
"A riot?" Tigh's customary scowl twitched into a smile. "What, they run out of alcohol?"
But Dee wasn't smiling, and slowly, Tigh's eye widened in horror. "You've got to be frakking kidding."
Dee's knuckles were white around the clipboared. "I'm sorry, sir."
Adama had a feeling that Cylons and labor disputes were the least of his problems. "Order a fleetwide search," he said. "We have to get this under control."
* * *
Roslin thought the phone must have garbled Adama's words. "I'm sorry, Admiral - did you just say there's no alcohol in the entire fleet?"
"That's right, Madame President. We made a thorough search after we discovered Galactica had run dry. There's not a drop left."
Zarek's stunned silence mirrored Roslin's own. Forget Baltar's trial - this was the hurricane.
"Can we synthesize it out of algae?"
"I'm afraid not."
Roslin reached into her desk drawer for her battered copy of Pythia. "May the gods have mercy on us."
* * *
"All right, settle down!" Lee said, wishing he were anywhere but in the ready room trying to calm panicked pilots. "We're Colonial officers here. Let's act like it."
"But sir, how are we going to keep order in the fleet? This will make getting pelted with coffee cans look like a friendly game of Pyramid!"
"And how are we going to unwind? We've got to have something after flying double CAPs and fragging toasters all day."
"We'll just have to find an alternative to drinking ourselves into oblivion," Lee snapped. Predictably, shouts of protest followed. "That's enough! Look, gods know we could all use a drink," he said. Kara's nametag, still posted on the whiteboard, caught his eye. She would have been slouched in her chair, muttering, Hell yeah we could! "But we can't have one, and all the shouting in the worlds isn't going to change that. So let's do our jobs and keep this fleet from tearing itself apart."
* * *
Caprica Six sat in her cell, projecting that she was sitting by a cool waterfall instead of in this lifeless hulk the humans called a ship. At first, she thought they had decided to let her starve to death, or wanted to test the limits of Cylon endurance. But soon she heard the shouts. The gunfire. The screams.
How human.
So she waited, disgusted at herself for following Eight - no, Sharon here, and prayed that those who survived would have the decency to feed her and clean her cell when it was over.
On the third day, her prayers were answered. "Come on. Let's move," Sharon said. Sharon wore a pack on her back and a gun in the belt of her flight suit. She carried Hera - thank God the infant looked well! - against her hip.
"What destination do you have in mind?" Caprica asked, not certain she wanted to go anywhere with Sharon again.
"Earth."
Sharon looked sane, but Caprica had learned not to trust the Eights when it came to sanity. Not that Caprica was in a position to talk.
"But it's patently absurd," came a voice from the corridor. "If she knew the location of Earth all along, then why weren't we there enjoying the sunrise months ago? And if she didn't, how could she possibly have learned it in the last seventy-two hours?"
"I don't understand it, but I trust Sharon," came the reply.
Gaius. They were bringing Gaius. Caprica experienced that constriction in her chest that his presence caused. Did humans feel like this all the time? No wonder they were so troubled.
"I'm not going any further until she explains," Gaius said to Sharon's human husband as they entered the room.
Caprica looked from Sharon to Agathon - Agathon was carrying a second infant. "Who is that?"
"Nicky Tyrol," he said, shifting his grip on the infant.
"And you wouldn't believe the trouble we went through to get him," Gaius said, turning to Caprica. "The whole fleet falling to pieces around us, and - "
"I couldn't leave him."
"We can argue in the Raptor," Sharon said. "Let's just get out of here."
Caprica didn't move. "I agree with Gaius."
"There, finally. At least we have one sane person in the room."
"I need a reason to trust that we won't end up lost, starving, and suffocating in a few days. I know you don't know Earth's location."
Sharon sighed. "I don't. But I can find Kara Thrace, and she'll take us there."
Agathon turned to Sharon, frowning. "Sharon... Kara's dead." He looked doubtful for the first time.
"No, she's not. I don't know why I didn't see it before - I just wasn't putting all the pieces together. Caprica will understand once I lay out the evidence. It involves Aurora, and the dying leader, and God's path through the eye of the storm," she said, looking at Caprica.
Caprica felt a surge of heat run up her spine. Sharon might be on to something after all... "I'll go. But I want to hear the rest on the way."
"What?" Gaius looked back and forth between them. "That's it? You're going to go off to who-knows-where after a dead woman because she babbles something about a goddess and a weather phenomenon? You've all gone mad."
"Do you have a better plan?" Agathon asked. Gaius had to concede he didn't, so they set off down the corridor, dashing through the sparks from broken lights and watching for crazed humans. They passed dozens of bodies, but reached the hangar deck without incident.
Hera wimpered and squirmed in Sharon's arms as they settled into the Raptor. "Shh," Sharon said, rocking her. "We'll be home soon. We'll start over there. Together."
* * *
Title: The Galactica Goes Dry
Fandom: new Battlestar Galactica (Disclaimer),
Categories: Gen (with reference to Sharon/Helo), PG, Parody
Word Count: 963
Summary: Soon after the events of Maelstrom, a riot at Joe's Bar heralds the greatest crisis the Colonial fleet has ever faced: they have completely run out of alcohol.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
Dee swallowed and pulled herself up straighter. Adama frowned. Dee didn't rattle easily.
"It's Joe's, sir. There's been a riot."
"A riot?" Tigh's customary scowl twitched into a smile. "What, they run out of alcohol?"
But Dee wasn't smiling, and slowly, Tigh's eye widened in horror. "You've got to be frakking kidding."
Dee's knuckles were white around the clipboared. "I'm sorry, sir."
Adama had a feeling that Cylons and labor disputes were the least of his problems. "Order a fleetwide search," he said. "We have to get this under control."
Roslin thought the phone must have garbled Adama's words. "I'm sorry, Admiral - did you just say there's no alcohol in the entire fleet?"
"That's right, Madame President. We made a thorough search after we discovered Galactica had run dry. There's not a drop left."
Zarek's stunned silence mirrored Roslin's own. Forget Baltar's trial - this was the hurricane.
"Can we synthesize it out of algae?"
"I'm afraid not."
Roslin reached into her desk drawer for her battered copy of Pythia. "May the gods have mercy on us."
"All right, settle down!" Lee said, wishing he were anywhere but in the ready room trying to calm panicked pilots. "We're Colonial officers here. Let's act like it."
"But sir, how are we going to keep order in the fleet? This will make getting pelted with coffee cans look like a friendly game of Pyramid!"
"And how are we going to unwind? We've got to have something after flying double CAPs and fragging toasters all day."
"We'll just have to find an alternative to drinking ourselves into oblivion," Lee snapped. Predictably, shouts of protest followed. "That's enough! Look, gods know we could all use a drink," he said. Kara's nametag, still posted on the whiteboard, caught his eye. She would have been slouched in her chair, muttering, Hell yeah we could! "But we can't have one, and all the shouting in the worlds isn't going to change that. So let's do our jobs and keep this fleet from tearing itself apart."
Caprica Six sat in her cell, projecting that she was sitting by a cool waterfall instead of in this lifeless hulk the humans called a ship. At first, she thought they had decided to let her starve to death, or wanted to test the limits of Cylon endurance. But soon she heard the shouts. The gunfire. The screams.
How human.
So she waited, disgusted at herself for following Eight - no, Sharon here, and prayed that those who survived would have the decency to feed her and clean her cell when it was over.
On the third day, her prayers were answered. "Come on. Let's move," Sharon said. Sharon wore a pack on her back and a gun in the belt of her flight suit. She carried Hera - thank God the infant looked well! - against her hip.
"What destination do you have in mind?" Caprica asked, not certain she wanted to go anywhere with Sharon again.
"Earth."
Sharon looked sane, but Caprica had learned not to trust the Eights when it came to sanity. Not that Caprica was in a position to talk.
"But it's patently absurd," came a voice from the corridor. "If she knew the location of Earth all along, then why weren't we there enjoying the sunrise months ago? And if she didn't, how could she possibly have learned it in the last seventy-two hours?"
"I don't understand it, but I trust Sharon," came the reply.
Gaius. They were bringing Gaius. Caprica experienced that constriction in her chest that his presence caused. Did humans feel like this all the time? No wonder they were so troubled.
"I'm not going any further until she explains," Gaius said to Sharon's human husband as they entered the room.
Caprica looked from Sharon to Agathon - Agathon was carrying a second infant. "Who is that?"
"Nicky Tyrol," he said, shifting his grip on the infant.
"And you wouldn't believe the trouble we went through to get him," Gaius said, turning to Caprica. "The whole fleet falling to pieces around us, and - "
"I couldn't leave him."
"We can argue in the Raptor," Sharon said. "Let's just get out of here."
Caprica didn't move. "I agree with Gaius."
"There, finally. At least we have one sane person in the room."
"I need a reason to trust that we won't end up lost, starving, and suffocating in a few days. I know you don't know Earth's location."
Sharon sighed. "I don't. But I can find Kara Thrace, and she'll take us there."
Agathon turned to Sharon, frowning. "Sharon... Kara's dead." He looked doubtful for the first time.
"No, she's not. I don't know why I didn't see it before - I just wasn't putting all the pieces together. Caprica will understand once I lay out the evidence. It involves Aurora, and the dying leader, and God's path through the eye of the storm," she said, looking at Caprica.
Caprica felt a surge of heat run up her spine. Sharon might be on to something after all... "I'll go. But I want to hear the rest on the way."
"What?" Gaius looked back and forth between them. "That's it? You're going to go off to who-knows-where after a dead woman because she babbles something about a goddess and a weather phenomenon? You've all gone mad."
"Do you have a better plan?" Agathon asked. Gaius had to concede he didn't, so they set off down the corridor, dashing through the sparks from broken lights and watching for crazed humans. They passed dozens of bodies, but reached the hangar deck without incident.
Hera wimpered and squirmed in Sharon's arms as they settled into the Raptor. "Shh," Sharon said, rocking her. "We'll be home soon. We'll start over there. Together."
