The Hunted (nBSG)

[declan]

Any bets on whether or not Ripley and Mathias get together.

Declan

[Diverball]

If Colonial law never got around to ruling on the issue, then Lampkin might have a difficult job prosecuting the Pegasus crew (which may be why he is offering plea bargains and hoping that none of them are smart enough to see through the situation or demand an attorney - which is in itself highly legally dubious). If the law did not recognise Gina as a living, sentient being with rights at the time she was assaulted, but at best an animal and at worst a machine, then in a strict legal sense, it wasn't rape. Conduct Unbecoming an Officer maybe, but not Rape. Even that might be difficult to make stick, since they were following the direct orders of their lawful superior; and if those orders were not illegal, but merely distasteful, they would still have been obliged to follow them.

Even if Colonial law does now recognise synthetics as people, with rights (which must have been very recent, or else imprisoning Bishop without due process would have been blatantly illegal), applying criminal laws retrospectively is generally frowned upon, and is explicitly forbidden in most legal systems. And of course, if the law is applied retrospectively, then does that not mean that Gina is now criminally liable for the sabotage and espionage she committed aboard Pegasus? She was an enemy combatant not wearing a recognised uniform, after all, and a party to a boarding action that took hundreds of lives.

One potential legal workaround has occurred to me. In the aftermath of the first war, as part of a general reaction against AI and humaniform robot technology, it's entirely plausible that the Quorum might have outlawed the creation and use of sexbots. Prosecute them for use of an illegal artificiallly intelligent sex toy as part of an Obscene group orgy aboard a Colonial warship. Throw in Conduct Unbecoming as well. You might even be able to nail Cain for running a hardcore pornography studio aboard, since she ordered it, and the tapes were in her posession, then charge the crew as accessories. Of course, you'd technically have to prosecute Helo as well, but I think the president might be willing to issue an official pardon

[MondoMage]

One potential legal workaround has occurred to me. In the aftermath of the first war, as part of a general reaction against AI and humaniform robot technology, it's entirely plausible that the Quorum might have outlawed the creation and use of sexbots.

I'm not sure that would have even crossed anyone's mind at the time. You'd have to be a wee bit twisted to take a look at one of the early-generation Cylons and think "Oh yeah, I'd hit that!"

There may be issues actually classifying what happened to Gina as rape (under Colonial Law, that is), but the conduct of those persons on the video - and the conduct of the whole crew under Admiral Cain - can be prosecuted under the rather generic "Conduct Unbecoming" heading, which can cover a rather wide range of activities depending on whose definition you're following.

[Diverball]

I'm not sure that would have even crossed anyone's mind at the time. You'd have to be a wee bit twisted to take a look at one of the early-generation Cylons and think "Oh yeah, I'd hit that!"

Never underestimate human perversity. Besides, if Colonial robotic technology was advanced enough to create the Cylons, then it's near certain that someone would have come up with a workable sexbot. We practically have them now!

There may be issues actually classifying what happened to Gina as rape (under Colonial Law, that is), but the conduct of those persons on the video - and the conduct of the whole crew under Admiral Cain - can be prosecuted under the rather generic "Conduct Unbecoming" heading, which can cover a rather wide range of activities depending on whose definition you're following.

The trouble with Conduct Unbecoming though, being a catch-all term that covers anything that the military deems criminal, but for which there is no specific article in the UCMJ against, is that if you are commanded to do it by a lawful superior, you cannot point to anything in the UCMJ which states unequivocally that the order is unlawful, and therefore, you are arguably bound to obey. On the face of it, Conduct Unbecoming is too vague to clear the Manifestly Unlawful test, which is necessary to obviate the Superior Command Defence. Assuming that Colonial Military Law is anything like the UCMJ.

[MondoMage]

The trouble with Conduct Unbecoming though, being a catch-all term that covers anything that the military deems criminal, but for which there is no specific article in the UCMJ against, is that if you are commanded to do it by a lawful superior, you cannot point to anything in the UCMJ which states unequivocally that the order is unlawful, and therefore, you are arguably bound to obey. On the face of it, Conduct Unbecoming is too vague to clear the Manifestly Unlawful test, which is necessary to obviate the Superior Command Defence. Assuming that Colonial Military Law is anything like the UCMJ.

That all depends on how you look at it. Some would consider having sex with an appliance to be conduct unbecoming, whether that appliance looked like Tricia Helfer or not.

However, it all depends on what the Colonial version of the UCMJ looks like. For an American serviceman, for example (since that's what I'm familiar with), a case could be made for Articles 77 (Principals), 78 (Accessory after the fact - they destroyed evidence), 82 (Solicitation), 93 (Cruelty and Mistreatment - machine or not, this would apply), 112 and 112a (Drunk or on drugs while on duty - depends on what the video showed, and who says what), 120 (Rape or Carnal Knowledge - this is where Colonial Law gets iffy, I would wager), 125 (Sodomy), 128 (Assault), 133 (Conduct Unbecoming) and 134 (General Article - basically, anything else they want to throw at you).

Reading through them again, Conduct Unbecoming doesn't appear to require an actual illegality. It's written more to cover those actions which serve to tarnish the image and respect of the individual in question. More of a moral failing than anything else. If the Articles regarding the various types of assaults against a person (120, 125, and 128) are found not to apply, then something could be made for 134, which seems to serve as the "catch all" to account for actions not covered in the other Articles.

Lampkin has his work cut out for him. Then again, he seems clever enough to have already thought of all this, and come up with a way around it. If a legal framework exists that defines what is a person and what is not, for example, can the case be made for the person-hood of a human-form Cylon? Athena having borne a child might actually be the key to that.

[Diverball]

If a legal framework exists that defines what is a person and what is not, for example, can the case be made for the person-hood of a human-form Cylon? Athena having borne a child might actually be the key to that.

A case could be made, but until it is made, then the law remains as it is. Hera's existence would be a very strong basis for extending rights to human-form Cylons, but you can't apply such a ruling retrospectively. There would need to have been a precedent set before the holocaust, and I suspect that the judiciary would have been nervous about unilaterally taking a step as radical as extending human rights to non-humans (assuming that the colonies have any tradition of judicial activism in the first place - or even that colonial law is precedent-based), and of course, no politician is ever going to do anything that might be seen as pandering to the Cylons, given the strength of public feeling.

[MondoMage]

A case could be made, but until it is made, then the law remains as it is. Hera's existence would be a very strong basis for extending rights to human-form Cylons, but you can't apply such a ruling retrospectively. There would need to have been a precedent set before the holocaust,

Unless, of course, this is the case that sets that particular precedent. Doesn't have to have been in effect before... it's what the court rules on the current case that counts. If there's enough standing to set a new precedent, then that's that.

and of course, no politician is ever going to do anything that might be seen as pandering to the Cylons, given the strength of public feeling.

Very true, depending on what public sentiment actually is. The most vocal of the lot tend to be the extremists on either side of a debate. Those who don't really care one way or the other generally keep quiet. It's those moderates that are the key - and figuring out how many are on either side of that particular fence (or can be swayed) is a critical bit of information.

And don't forget, a rather large voting block just joined the Fleet. One that has shown remarkable tolerance for non-hostile Cylons (Scorpia's crew), has fought for independence under the leadership of a Cylon (Anders), and sought spiritual guidance from a Cylon (Brother Cavil). And there's also the pragmatic angle - keeping the allied Cylons happy so they don't desert and leave the Fleet facing the Guardians all by themselves.

[masterarminas]

Michael Weyland smiled genially as the President of the Twelve Colonies (and CEO of Twelve Colonies Limited) shook his hand—but Lee did not mistake the expression on the man’s face for any altruistic motives.

“Shall we take our places, Mister Weyland?” he asked, gesturing towards the table where James Sinclair had taken his place to one side, and Tom Zarek stood waiting.

“Yes, that would be excellent,” Weyland answered and he waited until Lee had crossed over to his seat and then he joined Tom Zarek in sitting. “Your time has now elapsed, Mister President—I do hope that you gave considered weight to my words in our last session?”

“We have indeed,” replied Lee and he tilted his head slightly. “Before we begin, however, we would like to clarify a number of points—Director Sinclair has most graciously agreed to act as a neutral arbitrator in this manner.”

Weyland’s smile faded for a moment, and then became fixed. “While I have no objections to the presence of a representative of the Interstellar Commerce Commission—as a witness—I fail to see how he might arbitrate an agreement between two corporate interests. As the matter does not affect the security of Earth itself,” Weyland added with a nod to Sinclair.

The ICC Director did not respond, and Weyland turned his attention back to Lee, who answered him. “In fact, this matter does weigh quite heavily upon the safety and security of Earth, Mister Weyland. And being as both TCL and Weyland-Yutani are at risk here, I thought it might be best to ask Mister Sinclair if he would agree to serve as the arbiter between us.”

Michael Weyland cocked one eyebrow. “What risk are you speaking of in regards to Weyland-Yutani, Mister President?”

Now, James Sinclair leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. “Contact with the Twelve Colonies would not have happened without the actions of Carter J. Burke on behalf of Weyland-Yutani. By issuing the order to investigate this . . . derelict vessel, now destroyed, on Acheron and failing to warn the colonists of the potential threat, he is directly responsible for the loss of those colonists.”

“Yes, Director Sinclair—Mister Burke, the now deceased, Mister Burke—was responsible,” snapped Weyland.

“He was—at that time,” added Lee with a slight smile on his face, “acting on behalf of Weyland-Yutani. His actions precipitated the chain of events that led to Colonel Caldwell being sent by Admiral Adama to investigate a distress call from the Marines aboard Sulaco. We did not unilaterally make contact, Mister Weyland, but rather were drawn into your space by the actions—however inadvertent—of Weyland-Yutani. And thus so were the Cylons.”

Michael snorted. “You admitted you were seeking Earth—you were trying to find us. The fault here—and the liability—lies completely at your feet.”

“Actually, Mister Weyland,” Sinclair said softly, “I have reviewed their course logs. The so-called ‘map’ that they were following would have taken them across our space briefly, but had the Colonials held to their planned course, they would have exited explored space without making contact. It is reasonable to presume that the Cylons would have continued to pursue them.”

“Supposition, Director,” Michael answered in a heated voice, and then he drew in a deep breath and relaxed. “Their charts could have been—not that I am saying they were—altered before you viewed them. Only the facts should be admitted as evidence.”

“I will decide what may and may not be entered as evidence in this arbitration, Mister Weyland,” Sinclair said bluntly. “And I do believe that it might be enough of a reason to reject your injunction—or at the least to inform the other member corporations of the ICC of your corporation’s role in this matter. Who, with your own previous example of digging up obscure regulations, Mister Weyland, will no doubt file their injunctions with the ICC against Weyland-Yutani.”

Lee shook his head as all the expression faded from Michael Weyland’s face. “We of the Twelve Colonies do not wish to see Earth fighting the Cylons alone—you are our long-lost cousins, Mister Weyland. Nor do we want to see your losses go unaddressed,” and Lee smiled. “To that end, I think we have a workable compromise which I would request that you consider. With all due weight, if I may be permitted to use your same words, Mister Weyland.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed and then he nodded. “What is your counter-offer, Mister President?”

“The Twelve Colonies are represented only in this handful of ships and refugees, Mister Weyland. Even if TCL had the desire to turn a profit from our FTL drives, we do not have the means of producing them. You however do.” Lee paused until Michael nodded.

“We will provide Weyland-Yutani with the complete schematics and what engineering advice we can offer and exclusive rights to produce these engines. Ranging in scale from capital ship FTLs to the ones mounted in our Raptors. The remainder of our technology we will retain full rights to license to whomever we choose—or to keep for ourselves. Further, we will pledge to the ICC that we will devote our military strength to defending Earth and her colonies from the Cylons in conjunction with your own armed forces—and share all information we have concerning the Cylons.”

Michael smiled slightly. “And in exchange, TCL—the Twelve Colonies—will gain . . . what?”

“Weyland-Yutani will provide us with the title to a star system containing a world that meets or exceeds the minimum parameters which we will set,” Lee said. “The ICC will rule on the matter and determine that TCL and the government of the Twelve Worlds is not liable for losses incurred during this war—including those incurred prior to this date. Weyland-Yutani will sign off on that promise of indemnity.”

“Your offer, while potentially profitable, is far less than what I was originally requesting,” Weyland said with a spread of his hands. He set them on the table and tapped his fingers. “Why should we agree?”

“Because, Mister Weyland, your corporation will be the only one producing the new engines required in every single military vessel for the duration of this war. Whether that vessel belongs to the UAA, TWE, CAC, FEU, PAA, PAC, or Soviet Pact. They will have to buy their drives from you.” Lee paused and he smiled again. “And when this war is over? Weyland-Yutani will be building drives hand-over-fist to refit the existing civilian and merchant ships. Of course, you will produce any drives for the Twelve Worlds at cost, but other than that little snag, your potential profit margin is virtually unlimited, Mister Weyland.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then regretfully, our Fleet will have to consider simply moving on without sharing our technology with you. Or aiding in the defense of Earth and your Colonies, Mister Weyland. My advisors tell me that the Cylons are liable to lose our trail as they become preoccupied with your worlds and your population—while I would regret such an action, if I am forced to choose between my people fleeing and ending up as indentured servants to Weyland-Yutani, I will choose the former.”

“And should that occur, Mister Weyland, the ICC will not be pleased whatsoever with the corporation and its leaders that caused such a risk to the homeworld of humanity,” James Sinclair enunciated slowly and clearly—and if his voice lacked the undertones of menace that Lee had expected, it was clear that Michael Bishop Weyland II heard them regardless. And the powerful CEO nodded in submission to the authority of the ICC Director. He then turned his gaze back upon Lee and Tom.

“Seeing that you have staked out this position as your starting point, Mister President,” Michael said as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, “shall we begin our haggling over the details?”

[Eternal_Freedom]

"if I am forced to choose between my people fleeing and ending up as indentured servants to Weyland-Yutani, I will choose the latter.”

Pretty sure that shoudl be "I will choose the former." Other than that, great update!

[Diverball]

Unless, of course, this is the case that sets that particular precedent. Doesn't have to have been in effect before... it's what the court rules on the current case that counts. If there's enough standing to set a new precedent, then that's that.

Fair point, but a new precedent has to be based on an interpretation of existing statute. It's hard to imagine what would apply in this situation. And again, we're assuming a common law legal system.

And don't forget, a rather large voting block just joined the Fleet. One that has shown remarkable tolerance for non-hostile Cylons (Scorpia's crew), has fought for independence under the leadership of a Cylon (Anders), and sought spiritual guidance from a Cylon (Brother Cavil). And there's also the pragmatic angle - keeping the allied Cylons happy so they don't desert and leave the Fleet facing the Guardians all by themselves.

Oh, I quite agree that chances of legislating Cylon rights are at least reasonable, but that's not going to help Lampkin.

[masterarminas]

“We got it!” shouted Lee after the hatch on his father’s cabin was closed behind him, “We managed to hammer out an agree- . . .,” and he saw the looks on the faces of Admiral Adama, Colonel Tigh, and Romo Lampkin, and he sighed. “What has gone wrong now?”

“Commander Lorne was shot by one of his officers aboard Pegasus during your meeting, Lee,” the elder Adama said bluntly.

“WHAT!” snapped Lee and Tom at the same exact time, and Saul Tigh snorted.

“Myklos Zahn confronted the Commander, in front of witnesses, and when Lorne walked off,” Tigh explained, “he pulled a pistol from inside his jacket and shot him in the back.”

Lee just stood there and his jaw worked. “Captain Zahn? He mostly stayed in engineering! I don’t think I saw him except on three occasions during my stint aboard Pegasus.”

“His brother is one of those that Cain’s recordings confirmed took part in the rape of Gina Inviere,” Romo Lampkin said in a melancholy voice. “Witness statements show that he was rather . . . confrontational about his brother being sentenced to fifteen years and discharged without honor from the Fleet.”

Lee blinked. He had signed off yesterday on the plea agreements—all eighty-one of the accused had accepted the deals. And then he closed his eyes and quickly recited an old half-remembered prayer under his breath.

“He was shot? Not killed?” asked Tom quietly.

“He is in critical condition in the surgery on Pegasus,” whispered Tigh. “Fifty-fifty if he lives or dies through the night. Either way, we have problems—more fracking problems.”

“This cannot go unanswered,” Tom said just as quietly. “Jon Namer and his people—my people,” the Vice-President stressed, “think the world of the man. If this incident is covered up . . .,” and his voice trailed off.

“Captain Zahn is under close arrest and will stand a courts-martial—and probably a firing squad,” Adama snapped, his face flushed with anger and frustration. “Rest assured, this is will NOT go unanswered, Mister Vice President.”

“We need to find a new Commander for Pegasus, Bill,” Saul said softly. And then he laughed bitterly. “Lords of Kobol, I think that ship is cursed. This will be the sixth commanding officer in just eighty-three days; gods be damned.”

Lampkin snorted. “Gods help whoever you put in there—you are averaging what? Sixteen or seventeen days between leadership changes?”

“The question is who?” asked Adama. “Thorean is still recovering from his incarnation by the Cylons on Caprica—Foeswan hasn’t served aboard a Battlestar in twelve years and his temperament isn’t right for that ship anyway. He’s an excellent officer in his current role, but he is an engineer, not a pilot or tactical track. Caldwell?”

“She was just promoted to Colonel as XO of Pegasus, right?” asked Tom, and Adama nodded. “I like the woman—Namer says she’s good, but . . .,” and once again, he did not complete his thought.

“But she’s been out of the Colonial Fleet for too long and isn’t quite ready to step in as Commander, Pegasus,” said Colonel Tigh sourly. “I know she was wronged, but damn if I am not still leery of her after her association wi- . . .,” and his voice trailed off, before he shook his head and nodded at Tom Zarek. “No offense, Mister Vice-President.”

“None taken, Colonel Tigh,” Tom said.

Lee cleared his throat. “Actually, I have a suggestion, Admiral.”

Bill Adama looked up and he raised an eyebrow. “Planning on dropping out of the Presidential race and resuming command?”

“No, Sir,” Lee said. “I am actually happy now—and I have the time to spend with Gianne and Evelyn Sophia,” and the Admiral’s expression softened at the mention of his daughter-in-law and grand-daughter. Then Lee winced. “You aren’t going to like it, Admiral.”

“Spit it out, Lee,” his father growled.

“Transfer and promote Colonel Tigh,” he said breathlessly and then shut his mouth.

Saul Tigh stared at him—the Admiral stared at him. Romo Lampkin and Tom Zarek stared at him.

“I utterly fracked up the last time I commanded a Battlestar, Apollo!” Tigh thundered. “I’m not fit for command!”

But the Admiral merely held up on hand and Lee drew in a deep breath before he continued. “Colonel Tigh, you are—with few exceptions—perhaps the most experienced officer in this Fleet. Yes, when my father was shot, you fracked up badly. By the Demons of the Underworld,” Lee said with a grim smile, “I mutinied against you. But since Scorpia and her ships arrived, you have sobered up—you have thrown yourself into this job as the XO of Galactica. How much of that is due to you wanting to prove that you are Saul fracking Tigh and not some Cylon creation—that doesn’t matter. What does matter, Colonel, Admiral, is that you are the best candidate for this job.”

“Leave Caldwell as his XO?” the elder Adama asked, and Lee nodded.

“Bill you cannot be serious,” Saul began, but Adama held up his hand again.

“Colonel Tigh,” Lee continued, “this is not like the last time. Admiral Adama is still here, he is still in command—you aren’t alone. And you won’t frack this job up.”

“The Gemenons will go ape,” Tom said as he shook his head, “but if we play this right, we can get most of the rest—most of them—behind this. Emphasize that Admiral Adama remains in control and that we support Tigh—fully. All four of us will have to,” he added, looking at Lampkin and Lee and Bill Adama. And each nodded.

“It is a military decision, but for what it is worth, I will endorse it—so long as the good Commander Tigh isn’t planning on declaring martial law again,” Lampkin said in a sour voice.

“It all comes down to this—Saul, are you willing to finally take the last step and assume command of your own ship?” asked the Admiral.

Saul Tigh sat down and he exhaled heavily. “I was never going to get a command in the Fleet—this was my last post, and only because you pulled the strings. I have never wanted command,” and his expression died, “not since the end of the First War, when I realized how hopeless that dream was,” he finished quietly.

“Want a drink?” asked Bill softly.

And Saul’s eyes flashed and he licked his lips. “Damn straight—but I’m not going to have one.” He stopped and the room was silent for a minute, then two. And finally he nodded. “Is this what you want, Bill?” he whispered in a very quiet voice.

“No, Saul, this is not what I want,” answered Bill Adama, looking at his friend. “But I am afraid that this is very much what Pegasus needs.”

Another long pause, and then Saul Tigh nodded. And suddenly he began to laugh.

As everyone stared at him, he leaned back and smiled. “Thank the gods we lost fashion stores and strip malls—otherwise Ellen would spend every last penny of my paycheck on a new wardrobe. She will be speechless—after all these years, she will finally be the wife of a Battlestar Commander. You do realize that she is going leaving Galactica and heading over there with me, right?”

“That, my friend,” said Admiral Adama with a smile of his own, “is what I call a benefit of inestimable value,” and he laughed. Saul Tigh joined him, and then soon enough, did the other three men in the room.

[masterarminas]

Errors have been fixed, thanks.

MA

[Eternal_Freedom]

Well this will be...interesting for the crew of Pegasus. On the other hand, damn, six CO's in 83 days. Cain, Fisk, Gardner, Lee, Lorne and now Tigh. I have a suspicion that Commander Tigh will be even more of a hardass than Lorne was.

I wonder what will happen if Lorne recovers? Make him a Commodore and give him Aurora, Anubis and Scorpia as a semi-seperate Group?

[MondoMage]

“We got it!” shouted Lee after the hatch on his father’s cabin was closed behind him, “We managed to hammer out an agree- . . .,” and he saw the looks on the faces of Admiral Adama, Colonel Tigh, and Romo Lampkin, and he sighed. “What has gone wrong now?”

I damn near fell out of my chair laughing at this line. I suppose after everything they've gone through, it would be a typical reaction... but damn, that was hilarious!

And Tigh as Commander of Pegasus... they're probably going to wish they had Lorne back in charge.

[LadyTevar]

Tigh in the "Beast"... Oh that will be highly amusing.

[masterarminas]

Samantha Caldwell braced to attention as the hatch of the Raptor swung open and Colonel—no, Commander—Saul Tigh stepped out briskly onto the deck. She took one step forward and saluted, which the old bald man returned solemnly.

“Walk with me,” he said without a single look at the receiving party, and Sam had to stretch her legs to keep pace with the old man as he began to climb the ladders en route towards CIC.

“How’s Lorne?”

“No word yet, Sir,” she answered, “he’s still being operated on.”

“Damn shame,” Saul whispered as he ignored the men and women gazing on their new Commander and his XO, “but he had—has,” he said with a wince, “the highest regard for you. Now, personally? I think your choice of an alternate career was abysmal, Colonel Caldwell—but that is water under the bridge. I am no Mathias Lorne, nor am I one of those rear-echelon mother-frackers that caused you so many problems. So starting right now, you and I are both getting a fresh slate—Pegasus is getting a fresh slate. I hope that you are as good as Lorne and Jayne claim you are, because I am going to work you, Colonel. If you have a problem with that, tell me now.”

“No problem, Commander, Sir,” she said as she half-jogged with her shorter legs to keep pace.

Saul’s lips twisted as they reached another series of ladders and ascended up through the decks towards the CIC buried in the center of the tremendous alligator head of the Battlestar. “Good. I’ve been an XO longer than you’ve been an officer, Colonel. I know every way an XO can slack off and frack up because I’ve been there; I’ve done that by the fracking numbers. If you have a problem that you cannot handle, you have no business being an XO on a Battlestar. Problems are your job, Colonel Caldwell, and I expect you to deal with them. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered.

The two reached the deck where CIC was located and climbed through the hatches that sealed off the ladders during battle, and then Saul Tigh walked into CIC through the sliding glass doors as the Marine guards snapped to attention and saluted.

“Put me on the 1MC,” he ordered brusquely without a pause as he walked over the central console and lifted a phone.

“You are live, Commander,” a junior officer answered.

Saul raised the phone as he had seen William Adama do so very many times before—the cord wrapped around the handle, and the pick-up held close to his mouth. And he began to speak.

“Attention to orders!” he barked. “By direction of Admiral William Adama, I, Saul Tigh, Commander, Colonial Fleet do hereby assume command of Battlestar Pegasus and responsibility for all officers and crew embarked aboard. That means, for all of you who are lagging behind in the comprehension department, that I have just become your Master after the Gods—and on this ship, if it comes down to a choice between obeying my orders or following your gods, you had best be snapping to in order to carry out my will. Most of you already know who I am—and for those of you so clueless as to not know of me, I will now tell you.”

“I flew Vipers during the First Cylon War—I flew off of the deck of Battlestar Athena, among others. I have seen men and women die, I have seen my friends die, I have seen ships die, and I witnessed with my own eyes the death of our Homeworlds. Our Twelve Colonies. It has become evident to anyone looking from the outside at this ship, that you—each of you—are dealing with that same pain. Of losing friends. Lovers. Family.”

“I understand that pain—I have felt that pain. However, from this moment on, we are each of us putting that pain aside. We must—or the pain will consume us.”

“Do you believe that ships have souls?” Saul asked. “I do.”

“Galactica out there, she has a soul. As maimed and butchered as she is today, she came home after every mission—she protected those under her guardianship. She remembers every single man and woman who served on her deck. I know that she does. I can feel it when I touch her frames, her bulkheads, her decks.”

“So to does this ship, Battlestar Pegasus, possess a soul. The soul of this ship is angry. It is bitter at what has been done. To her. To those under her care. To those held in her brig. By the men and women who served aboard her.”

“The soul of this ship cries out in anguish. Because this is not what Pegasus was meant to be. We cannot change the past—none of us can do that. But we can change the future.”

“Starting today, we will restore this ship her soul—and by doing so, we will regain a measure of our own. The past is over. Those responsible for crimes have been punished. There will be no more said. There will be no more scorn heaped upon you. There will be no more shame. Because we are going to show everyone in this Fleet, every creature in this universe, how bright the soul of Pegasus can shine.”

“Starting this minute, we are going to lay aside the past and we are going to restore to this ship and crew their honor . . . their pride . . . their souls,” and Saul looked around the CIC at the faces of each and every crewman, who stared back at the man they realized at last they had never truly known. “If you think this is beyond you, turn in your resignation. Otherwise, suck it up and do your duty. Colonel Caldwell will be your Executive Officer—she is from this moment onward the right hand of God on this ship, and she speaks with my authority. She will deal with each of you—and Lords help you if you come to my attention.”

“There are some who think me nothing but a drunk. A failure. A copy of Saul Tigh that they Cylons made. There are some who think this ship has disgraced herself so much as to be beyond all redemption.”

“THEY. ARE. WRONG!” Saul thundered into the pick-up, his voice echoing throughout the Battlestar. “And together, we will prove them wrong.”

“CONTACT! Multiple contacts on DRADIS!” one of the officers sang out, and his face blanched. “Eighteen plus Basestars—launching Raiders,” he reported.

“This is your Commander speaking. Sound Action Stations throughout the ship. Set Condition One in all compartments.”

And Sam unracked her own phone. “This is the XO. Sound Action Stations throughout the ship. Set Condition One in all compartments.”

Red battle lights replaced the normal illumination in CIC as the klaxon sounded.

“Flight, CIC,” Saul ordered. “Scramble our fighters—get them out of the tubes. Guns, clear for action.”

Officers raced around CIC as the ship’s gun turrets came to life and auxiliary monitors and stations were manned.

“Today we are not running. Today, we will make a down payment on retrieving our souls—and the soul of Pegasus,” Saul barked into the wireless. “There are two hundred and fifty-seven million people—civilians of the Thirteenth Tribe living on that planet behind us. And today,” he thundered. “Today! We will not run. Today we FIGHT!”

“My name is Saul Tigh. I am an officer in the Colonial Fleet. Whatever else I am, whatever else I was, whatever else this shit means, that is the man I want to be. And if I die today, that is the man I will be. And whatever else this ship has done, today, Pegasus will be the ship she was meant to be.”

Saul racked the phone and he turned to face Sam Caldwell, who nodded. “Orders from Galactica,” she said as she passed across a piece of paper.

Saul scanned the lines and then he smiled.

“Mister Hoshi,” he barked. “Pegasus will advance behind our fighter screen with Scorpia in support. Let’s go kill some fracking toasters.”

[MondoMage]

Oh, Bravo! I read this and picture something suitably Wagnerian playing in the background. Good job, Tigh.

[Themightytom]

Did they just interrupt his speech?? Oh Shi-

[Skywalker_T-65]

Did they just interrupt his speech?? Oh Shi-

Those poor, poor Guardians...

[masterarminas]

Good readers might note that the Hidden Five was supposed to be a secret, and here is Tigh outing himself. I am sure you are asking what the heck is going on?

My fault. I realized that I missed an update from my master document back in Episode 16, where the journalist James MacManus manages to dig an archival record on Joyita . . . including the names and pictures of the thirteen survivors.

To which he draws mostly the correct conclusions, but thinks that the Hidden Five are simply unactivated sleepers. The Admiral and Lee have to perform damage control.

That is a oops on my part, because it should have been in there.

You have my apologies. But I have hit 300+ pages in MS Office in my master document (150,000 words).

MA

[FaxModem1]

Yeah, it seems Tigh just shot himself in the foot there. Unless he's challenging the entire crew to come at him.

[atg]

Loved Tigh's speach. Excellent reading

[Themightytom]

Yeah, it seems Tigh just shot himself in the foot there. Unless he's challenging the entire crew to come at him.

I think by lumping himself in with the disgraced crew, he sets himself up to be their champion not their ally. It miiiiight have worked AS his reveal, but it definitely works at the follow up to an earlier reveal about his Cylon status

[MondoMage]

Eighteen basestars, eh? I hope the Earth forces have better luck than the Sulaco did (I'm betting that they will), or Pegasus is going to get the snot pounded out of her.

[starfury]

Eighteen basestars, eh? I hope the Earth forces have better luck than the Sulaco did (I'm betting that they will), or Pegasus is going to get the snot pounded out of her.

I see it as more for everybody, eighteen basestars means there something for everybody in our coalition of RTF fleet/allied Cylons and Earth forces to kill some guardians togather, a nice bonding experience.