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Battlestar Titanica	By : Phynxlegion Category: 1 through F > Battlestar Galactica Views: 2024 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Battlestar Galactica or anything which someone else has legal claim to like characters, settings, etc featured in this fic. I did create many original characters, but its just for entertainment and no money/profit is being m

Chapter List
- 10
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- 12
Striding into the mess hall with a pair of armed and burly soldiers at her side, Kreysta scans the room and cannot locate the Asian Cylon. As she confirms the cook is not in the hall, the soldier to her right leaves her side and whispers to a sergeant walking the room. Returning to Kreysta he whispers to go through the swinging doors into the kitchen. Letting him take the lead, she follows and ducks into the kitchen immediately after he enters. Her eyes dart around and finally rest on the meek woman working behind a huge mixer. The soldiers spread out and Kreysta assumes a direct line for her. The typical reaction occurs as the people working in the kitchen suddenly begin to back out leaving Amara Lewins working steadily behind the long work tables. The wave of silence suddenly hits her and she looks up and notices the soldiers surrounding her. Her demeanor suddenly changes from innocent surprise to a raw hatred seeing them surrounding her. Kreysta keeps her eyes locked on her as the soldiers scream at her to drop to the floor. Kreysta moves to block her escape through the doors she passed through and walks slowly but steadily towards the small woman as she raises her hands above her head. With inhuman reflexes she reaches behind and into the back of her shirt and flings a pair of throwing knives to her left and right. The soldiers slump over the tables gurgling and splattering blood over the dinner preparations. Taking out two more knives, she flings the blades at Kreysta’s vital areas and her expression shifts dramatically as Kreysta casually shifts left and right avoiding each blade effortlessly.
“You can make this easy or hard. Your choice synthetic.”
The girl sneers and tries once more to place her last two blades into Kreysta and results in the knives clanging uselessly against the metal preparation tables as she slaps the blades aside with her palms. As Kreysta reaches her, the girl suddenly lashes out and strikes her with a scream; Kreysta falls to one knee and stands back up clutching her jaw. Shaking off the blow, she returns it and sends Amara tumbling backwards towards the stoves. Through the window, a young ensign peers at the battle amazed seeing the two woman trade blows; he gasps as he sees Amara grasp a large boiling pot of water and flings it into the face of Kreysta. Her scream resonates through the room, and Amara sprints towards the swinging doors. Ducking out of the way, the ensign hides behind the door as it swings wide, only to gasp seeing Amara tumble head or heels through the doors. With her face bleeding, she pushes away from the floor only to have Kreysta land with a great force onto her back. A grotesque crunch follows and a voiceless cry rattles from Amara’s agape mouth. Tears explode from her eyes and her mouth trembles as Kreysta slowly increases the pressure on the girl’s back snapping vertebrae one by one until her lips reach Amara’s ear. Whispering so only the paralyzed Cylon can here, Kreysta seethes.
“Boiling liquid hurts bitch!”
Kreysta seizes the base of Amara’s chin and plants her other hand behind the head. With a sharp pull and twist, she snaps the neck, ending the Cylon’s operational cycle. With her face red and still feeling the sting from the searing water, she gazes upon the terrified young man cowering in fear from the events which he just witnessed. Thinking fast Kreyska goes to him and offers a hand up. Fearfully, he accepts and Kreysta realizes he saw what happened. In rebuttal she whispers to him.
“Any hotter and I’d be dead, don’t you think?”
Hit with the reality of her words he nods believing the water could not have really been boiling as he saw and swallows her words.
“Yes ma’am. When you hear it that way it makes sense.”
Shaking his head, he thanks her for everything and begins cleaning up the kitchen as best he can.
Kreysta sits around as a medic applies a salve to her face and neck answering the investigator’s questions to the best of her abilities. With Myosha sitting behind her, she struggles to conceal her deep and passionate concern for her lover. As the medic is leaving, she stops by Myosha and briefs her. In her mid-thirties, the nurse wears her flat brown hair in the typical medium length of the fleet.
“She had nearly first degree burns, but nothing too serious. Just make sure she rests and sees the doc tomorrow to see how she’s healing.”
Glancing at the body of the cook as they cart her off to the lab to study, she shakes her head before continuing.
“She did that with her bare hands…very dangerous woman, wouldn’t you say?”
Myosha numbly nods as the medic continues.
“Now I understand why they have you as her liaison. If she were to get into just any altercation with a crew member, it could be fatal them. She crushed her back before killing her. Scary, no matter how you look at it.”
After delivering Kreysta back to her ship to rest, Myosha strides onto the bridge receiving updates from their latest jump. With the cargo ships deploying into the asteroid field to offload all the supplies in the depot, the Titanica and destroyers park in a safe orbit prepared for an ambush. Utilizing a system of offloading cargo to expedite the upload to their respective ships, Doneatha confidently believed they could shave off two hours per ship. Myosha takes charge of the fleet dispersal and has them rearrange their position so they could rapidly reposition to cover the Titanica. As Myosha continues to fine-tune the surrounding fleet, she senses someone approaching and is surprised to know it’s her admiral before she speaks.
“I forgot how integral you were to my bridge. The crew forgot how much you managed their ops…as did I. I’m sorry I assigned you as a bona fide babysitter. I saw how she latched onto you, and I needed a miracle. I never thought you two would synch up so well. That’s my fault. I’m just saying that you’ve been sorely missed on the bridge, and…well…all you have to do is ask for reassignment and it’s done. I know of a few officers who would gladly step up for the duty.”
Myosha blurts out her response far faster than she intended.
“NO! No, I’m good. She’s very particular on who she lets near her. I’m honestly surprised she let those two guards walk with her without her veil on. She’s warming up to us, as odd as that sounds. She actually cares about us…and life in general. She feels a kinship to all forms of life…even silicon-based. She doesn’t agree with the Cylons exterminating all organic lifeforms, as does her ship, but they are very protective of all forms of life. That’s the primary reason they decided to liberate the Cylons over kill them. She is a very complex person.”
Nodding, Doneatha leans into Myosha and whispers.
“I know you two have become intimately close. I’m not completely blind, and I’m not condemning or reprimanding you in any way. I’m responsible for the situation you are in, and I’m taking full responsibility. Just remain as objective as possible. Like I told on day one, if you see something which will hurt your ship or crew don’t hesitate to let us know. Right?”
With wide eyes and a nervous nod, Myosha squeaks out a weakly.
“Aye Admiral.”
After fourteen hours of offloading, the cargo ships lumber away from the depot and jump with the fleet to another safe location to transfer the cargo. After their third consecutive jump, they send out the defensive screen of vipers and begin the transfer of supplies. The multiple jumps were deemed a necessary evil as they needed to change up how they operated with the killing of the Cylon operative. Furthermore after Myosha explained how easily Kreysta’s ship would be able to track the Cylon ship after it jumped, she felt it would be best to shake things up for everyone. Spending the next few days transferring cargo and planning, Myosha finally answers a summons by the security at Kreysta’s ship.
Arriving at the long green ship, the guard says the pilot is waiting for her inside. With a simple nod, Myosha slips under the ship and scales the ladder deep into the ship. Sitting in the cockpit, Kreysta waves to enter and smiles warmly as Myosha joins her in the parallel flight seat.
“Just woke up. The nap allowed me to regenerate all the damage the boiling water inflicted.”
Reading the explosion of emotion on her lover’s face, she calms her by placing her hand on her knee and chiding her.
“It’s okay! I had to keep up appearances. You would have had your face burned off if it happened to one of you. My species is very tolerant to extremes, hot or cold, high or low pressures, etc. Don’t get me wrong it hurt like crazy, but I can survive it. That model is nuts. She went from calm and placid to psycho in a blink of an eye. My ship is happy with his decision to go against them after seeing the damage she inflicted.”
Pointing at an astronomical map, she beckons Myosha’s attention.
“Where are we now? This is my greatest problem with being stuck inside the belly of a ship all the time.”
Myosha scans the maps and points out an innocuous section of space.
“Here. We’re hiding on the outskirts of the Hyperion Nebula. It provides us the means of escape should we run into trouble, like when we found you and the Titanica.”
Kreysta nods and turns the viewer back onto the twelve colonies.
“They want me to meet them at this outer world in 18 hours. They said they would brief me on their intentions and give me another data dump. My estimates say…we are 12 hours from there. You up for a trip? I can do a recon run of those other planets for you too. More to the point, I need you to run the pilot’s seat. I’m not fully up for a long trip just yet, and I can only sit in the seat for a couple of hours at a time.”
Nodding Myosha sighs dramatically and points at the planet.
“The planet is one of our most outlying colonies. Well if you need me then it will give me some weight to coming along. Besides, I should go along as a representative of the twelve colonies. I will get with the admiral and let her know you’re leaving. Give me an hour, okay?”
Myosha stands to leave and is joined slowly by Kreysta. With a momentary hesitation, Myosha finally decides to sneak a kiss from her lover’s lips.
Doneatha, reviewing a stack of file folders, glances up and smiles as Myosha strides onto the bridge of the Titanica. Noticing her XO’s determined stride towards her, she closes the files and prepares for the update. She couldn’t ignore how happy Myosha always seemed after spending time with their alien guest. With the shifting tides of war, she wondered how their relationship might fare when they fully engaged the Cylons. Dismissing her thoughts, she smiles meekly and motions for Myosha to come close.
“Our guest has informed me she has to go meet up with the Cylon faction which is splitting with their collective. Its twelve hours one way to Scorpia for her, that’s where they want to meet her. I was thinking…she’s that close to the colonies, it would be a waste not to do some recon while she’s there. What do you think?”
Nodding as she mulls it over, Doneatha pulls up her tactical maps and verifies what she already knew.
“All our data is uselessly outdated. And as much as I have missed you on the bridge, I do need some updated intelligence. The jump from here to Scorpia is beyond redline for us, so if she can do it, it would be extremely helpful. If we could see what’s left of the colonial yards and bases both on planet and in orbit on Tauron, not to mention the enemy placements around the rest of the Helios Minor colonies that would give us a good idea of how to proceed. Good call, Myosha. You have my permission to proceed.”
With a quick nod, Doneatha fights back a laugh watching Myosha sprint off the bridge to get changed into her gear. As she turns back to her station on the bridge, she feels a heavy weight bearing down on her and resumes flipping through six personnel folders sorting out the best candidate for a new Executive Officer.
14 Hours Ago.
Thrown into a panic from the loss of more than half the colony worlds and a third of their entire fleet, the Cylon command was still recovering. Focusing on containing the remaining colonial battlestars and keeping them from joining up into a concentrated force, the eight surviving factions of the colonies were proving to be a difficult problem to manage. The loss of the majority of the basestars assigned to holding the inner colonies was both unexpected and frustrating. As they assign a division to manage the Galactica, another blonde comments that the Pegasus is moving closer to their sector.
The aged hybrid shrugs and orders three more basestars to handle them. As he reviews the complements of colonial capital ships which survived Zero-hour, he notices that no designation had been assigned to the Titanica. As the blonde explains how the battlestar was currently exploring permanent escape routes out of the colonies after the horrible annihilation of the remaining Third Gemenon Fleet, a young man asks how they are any different than the Galactica. Another brunette model seconds the opinion and explains they should throw a full division at them before they link up with one of the surviving eight fleets. Faced with managing the isolation of the surviving Battlestars not actively addressing the Cylon forces, their large fleet of basestars was beginning to thin dramatically, only adding to their frustration.

Rising from the warm and comforting fluid of the download chamber, the Asian “Boomer” model gasps her first breath and settles back down once more before finally pulling herself out of translucent fluid. As a warrior Cylon aids her and retrieves a fresh set of clothes, her unbridled anger seems to dry her off far quicker than the towel. Storming into the tactical control room of the basestar, she finds the aged man leading this division as well. Watching the hybrids moving around the room heatedly discussing tactics and planning troop placements, the girl can’t contain her frustration seeing them ignore her presence. Clearing her throat noisily, she exclaims her frustration to the entire room.
“Hey! We’ve got a big problem!”
The older domineering brunette crooks her head and replies sarcastically.
“Really? You don’t say. Where in the frack did you come from anyways?”
Grumbling as she leads a dozen warriors to a waiting heavy raider, the boomer model orders them inside as her sisters beckon her to let go of her anger. Ignoring them, she looks the ship over before boarding. Before she can close the door, one of her sisters grasps her arm stopping her.
“This alien woman is not worth it. Let it go. We’ll deal with her in our own way at the right time of our choosing, not like this!”
Yanking her arm free, she closes the door behind her and pilots the ship away, with the light from her burning anger lighting the way.
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Battlestar Titanica