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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Waking suddenly, Myosha’s eyes dart around in a panic as she feels a slightly cool body wrapped around her back and an arm draped over her naked waist and thigh. Her heart races until she recalls the evening prior and the past four hours. As she sorts her emotions and memories, she relaxes and feels Kreysta stir behind her, reacting to her momentary shock. Feeling her tense and stretch against her bare back, she feels the girl’s hands and arms roam over her and gently nuzzle against the nappe of her neck. Questioning her moral and ethical choices, she is stopped as Kreysta slides out of bed and begins dressing. Grasping a sheet to cover her nakedness, Myosha longingly watches the beauty slowly don each article of clothing, like a bard reciting a passionate sonnet. Her lithe form defies all of Myosha’s preconceptions of how a beautiful woman should be defined. With small breasts and a tight build leaving no room for an ounce of fat, her voice deceived the casual observer of her true age. Myosha imagines she would be seen as a girl in her late teens maybe twenty, but too much wisdom was contained in the small woman. Hypnotized by her muscles as Kreysta moves, Myosha feels her weary body begin to reignite watching Kreysta dress. As Kreysta zips up her flight suit, the most common attire Myosha had seen her wear, she smiles at Myosha and raises her eyebrows expectantly.
“As much as I wouldn’t mind seeing you escort me back to my ship naked, I don’t think your admiral would look kindly on that behavior. She is a very conservative soul, but a brilliant mind.”
Blinking in confusion, Myosha snaps out of her catatonia and recovers her clothes scattered on the deck. Quickly dressing, she runs a brush through her hair before guiding Kreysta down to her ship. The guard at her ship was now a woman in her mid-thirties, armed, and positioned so that no one could sneak up behind her. Myosha mentally notes to commend the security chief for assigning her to the post. Though she had a chair to sit in, she seemed to use it as a place for her pack and water bottle. Walking Kreysta to the hatch underneath, she ensures she enters safely; and as she turns to leave, Kreysta pokes her head out and steals a kiss from Myosha. What might have been a short sweet kiss, becomes a long passionate exchange leaving Myosha overcome by a surge of passion. Breaking away, she wanders around the ship, wrestling her feelings and emotions for the alien woman. Returning to her room, Myosha gets in a four hour nap before waking to shower and take her post in the morning. As she gets her pants on, a chime at her door has her tucking her shirt in, as she opens. She nearly jumps to attention seeing Admiral Florus waiting outside.
“Can I come in for a minute? I want to talk to you about last night?”
Myosha’s face turns bright red, and she fumbles madly for words. Before she can get a coherent sentence out of her mouth, Doneatha continues.
“Before I went to sleep, I finally got that meeting with Captain Forester. He and Helms really dug into the history books and discovered some amazing things, and I believe they are…for the most part…accurate. I really grilled them and I could see no fault in their research. Listen, Kreysta really trusts you and I don’t want to jeopardize the relationship you two have formed, but...it seems she’s not kidding about being long-lived. You are welcome to review the research, they wrote a serious report on their findings and beliefs. What I’m trying to say is that do you think she’s deceiving us in any way? Can this be a trap of any kind? I know I’m asking a lot, but I am leaning towards authorizing you to go with her on that flight. Despite everything the captain has told me, I’m still leaning towards allowing you to act as my full-time liaison with Kreysta.”
Myosha, thankful she didn’t put her foot in her mouth, sighs and paces uncomfortably before her commander.
“Admiral, I haven’t seen anything which would give me even a suspicion of deception on her part. She has been overly helpful, painfully honest, and extremely insightful on what has been going on around here. Last night, after she showered, she told me she’d received “intel” on why Ensign Gayla Cellar and a few others died.”
The admiral adjusts her stance and Myosha repositions to in front of her. Using her hands to soften the insanity factor of her explanation, she speaks slowly, emphasizing key points.
“It seems this ship…for the lack of a better term…is haunted by the original crew. I have been struggling against Colonel Burrell’s antics since I arrived, from him ringing the doorbell insistently, hitting me on the back of the head, to making his picture reappear every time I leave the room or just turn my back! She confided in me that the spirits killed some of the crew before they could try and kill us, and that Gayla was attempting to plant a device to help the Cylons destroy us. She makes it sound like the ghosts are trying to protect us here, but each has their own unique quirks, like my friendly Colonel who just wants his own place in my corner for eternal remembrance. Since I did it, all the Frack’in bizarre stuff in my room stopped! She’s offered to walk around the rest of the ship and find out how the remaining spirits want appeasement, and frankly, I am all for it. I’m fully aware of how insane this sounds, but there’s really no other explanation right now.”
Doneatha shakes her head and stop’s Myosha from explaining further.
“You don’t have to say another word. I get dozens of reports daily of weird and unexplained activity coming in from dozens of departments. In the bay she’s in, I was getting a report a night. Now, it’s been quiet since she has been on board.”
Doneatha rubs the bridge of her nose and wipes her face downward.
“Once again, she proves to be invaluable to us, making my job even harder. Go ahead and join her on the tracking mission. I know your judgement isn’t clouded in regards to her, so I leave it up to you to make the right call out there. I’m not a micro-manager so I leave it in your capable hands.”
Doneatha turns and leaves out the room. As Myosha pauses to catch her breath, the Admiral sticks her head back into the room with a grin chuckling.
“Besides, it’s not like you two are sleeping together or anything right?”
Sharing a laugh, the Admiral departs, leaving Myosha to collapse at her desk in terror. Throwing her head onto the desk she rests her head from the weight of her previous night’s deeds. As she sits and contemplates whether or not she should tell Doneatha of the previous night, a shot glass of Colonel Burrell’s slides across the desk and hits Myosha’s arm. Myosha looks up, glances at the glass, and speaks to the room sarcastically.
“Thanks.”

The admiral’s plan kept it fairly simple. One raptor would hang out at the depot and would wait for the Cylon scout to appear. After they finished their scan, and jumped away, the raptor would follow suit and report in. According to Kreysta, it would take her no more than an hour to arrive at the depot and she would wait there until the scout returned. After he returned, and left, Kreysta would track him back to his base and we would report our intelligence back to the admiral. It was a sound and uncomplicated plan, but the time between the scouts departure and return was hardly definitive.
Myosha was given the next best seat in Kreysta’s ship, the copilot’s chair beside her. Without any buttons or control mechanisms, Myosha felt like an overpaid observer. As they sit on the flight deck waiting for the raptor to return, Myosha couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful nymph who captured her heart. Watching her touch imaginary buttons in the open air of the cockpit, Myosha adores the way she simply brushes her finger at each point while most people press at it. With a large clear glass faceplate worn as glasses which wrapped around her face, it resembled a helmet’s blast shield rather than glasses. She abruptly stops and grins at Myosha.
“Where are my manners?”
She reaches into a drawer and extracts a matching faceplate and hands it to her lover. Myosha tentatively slips on the glasses and Kreysta grins watching Myosha’s face suddenly explode with emotion. All around her were gages, indicators, displays, and readouts fed from the ship. Shaking her head, Kreysta snickers.
“Concentrate just beyond the displays…like you want to see outside the ship.”
Myosha nods and immediately gasps. In sheer disbelief, she looks around the flight deck as if the ship doesn’t exist and can see minute details as if she was using her own eyes to look through the ship. Kreysta finds the breath to stop laughing long enough to speak.
“As long as the ship has a scanner or camera operational in that area, you can see it. He uses the system to star-navigate after we de-fold…or come out of a jump as you call it.”
Myosha can’t believe her eyes, and she lifts the glasses off and back onto her face trying to wrap her mind around the technology. As she plays with the glasses, Ensign Canoga Farness comes over the communications channel saying the scout raptor had returned. With a nod, Kreysta acknowledges the message and brings her ship to life. Lifting the ship off the deck, she hovers it along to the lift and to the upper flight deck. Myosha inhales sharply remembering her early years as a raptor pilot, and fights the shock of experiencing take-off without a cockpit. Accelerating to fantastic speeds, Myosha holds her breath as they fly past the end of the deck. Kreysta suppresses a laugh as she hears Myosha whisper louder than she intended.
“I can get used to this.”
Accelerating, they leave the fleet behind and their protection. Myosha can hardly fathom the speeds the ship was reaching and wonders out loud.
“How fast are we going?”
Kreysta nods and speaks to the computer in her own tongue. Suddenly the numbers and writing Myosha couldn’t read are instantly translated. Scanning the displays, she pauses on a steadily increasing number towards one-point zero-zero.
“What increments is this in? Distance per second?”
Kreysta shakes her head laughing.
“Try times the speed of light.”
Kreysta laughs hysterically as the color drains away from Myosha watching the display increasingly speed up and blink past the speed of light and rapidly pass two.
“We…we’re moving faster than the speed of light? Why aren’t we splattered against the walls?”
Shaking her head, Kreysta subdues her laughter long enough to pat Myosha’s arm reassuringly.
“If you want to fly among the stars with me, you’re going to have to get used to coping with stuff you don’t know or understand.”
Myosha stares in disbelief as the display slows to three thousand eight hundred and fifty-seven. Kreysta takes a breath before commenting on their speed.
“I’m keeping it below five thousand. I don’t want to draw too much attention when we arrive. I’ll start slowing five minutes out and should get it well below zero point two-five when we coast into the area.”
Myosha nods numbly. After forty minutes, the ship begins slowing and Myosha cannot break her dumbfounded stare. She nearly jumps hearing a young man’s voice announce the system is clear of any small space craft. Kreysta snickers once again.
“Myosha, this is my long-time companion Bavor. Bavor, this is Myosha.”
The ship instantly replies sarcastically.
“Your latest companion or just your latest conquest?”
Miffed, Kreysta slaps at the console.
“HEY! Be nice!”
She turns to Myosha and continues.
“Every so often I get tired of his sarcasm and invite someone along to travel with me.”
Bavor retorts just as fast.
“News flash! You’re not the most pleasant creature to contend with either. You’d think after a few eons we’d be right as rain, right? Instead we occasionally get on the other’s nerves. If you want to go and rest, I have the watch. I’ll notify you two as soon as things change.”
Nodding, Kreysta takes off the glasses leads Myosha out of the cockpit and into the rest area.
Myosha excuses herself to use the latrine and returns to find Kreysta tucked into the bed compartment. Hanging on the wall opposite of the bed is her flight-suit and underclothes, and she proudly wears a grin.
“Despite all our antics, we’re in safe hands. Come. I want to resume where we left off at last night.”
Myosha steps up to the bed chamber and begins to unzip her flight suit. Kreysta scampers forward and shoos Myosha’s hands away so she can undress her human lover. Zipping the suit open to the crotch, Kreysta slides her hands into the heavy garment and lets her hands roam deliciously on their own accord. Myosha, who had removed her boots while she was in the latrine, steps out of the flight suit and stands before her small lover in a simple light beige camisole and matching panties. With her undergarments nearly matching her skin tone, it made Kreysta purr seeing her. Myosha hooks her fingers into her panties and pulls them down leaving them on top of the pile of clothes. Kreysta stops her from removing the camisole, and instead Slides her face into Myosha’s stomach. Planting small kisses as she pushes it up, she begins nuzzling Myosha’s large C-cup breasts. Using her own breasts as a size comparison, Myosha’s were huge compared to her small perky ones. Tossing the garment into the pile, she draws Myosha into her den and passionately envelopes her lover.
Pausing to let a man in his early sixties pass before her, the tall blonde follows immediately and enters a control room where two other women wait impatiently. The young Asian woman glares at the man entering and sighs dramatically as he brings the tactical display to life. He yells at a machine warrior to go find out what the returning scout has to report. Brooding at the positioning of three basestars in the lower orbit of the nearby gas giant, he glances up to see the brunette beside the Asian girl glaring at him in obvious disrespect. He spits out at her.
“WHAT?”
With a growl on her face, she seethes in response.
“They know it’s a bloody trap! They aren’t going to fall for it. Somehow our scout missed them and he was seen. We know they are just a few light-years nearby, let’s do a systematic search and wipe them out.”
Slamming his hand against the panel, and screams at her.
“You all agreed to this plan beforehand! We stick to it! Who do we still have on the Titanica?”
The Asian woman blandly replies.
“An eight. She was a cook on the Destroyer, but she would have worked at being transferred to the battlestar. The Six still doesn’t remember how she was killed, but heard the number five was thrown out an airlock. We still don’t understand why he wasn’t downloaded like the Six.”
The older man balks out.
“Doesn’t matter now. Fine we’ll give the plan another 3 cycles and we begin a sweep of the surrounding area. Better?”
The brunette bows sarcastically.
“By your command.”
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Battlestar Titanica