Prologue

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PROLOGUE


Racetrack would have thought it was a fitting end had she been alive. But now in death, she would atone for her sins in joining the uprising that nearly brought down Adama. As her Raptor and her remains floated through space, physics would save her soul.

The dead Raptor was floating aimlessly above The Colony. Its nose had just started to pitch up when a piece of space debris impacted the top of the starboard wing. The smooth, fluid motion of the meandering, lifeless Raptor was interrupted and a jolt went through the ship. When that happened Racetrack's lifeless hand dropped onto the firing button, letting loose the eight nuclear warheads under the Raptor's wings, already programmed to hone in on The Colony. Within five seconds the warheads slammed into the Cylon superstructure, beginning its own imminent death.

Admiral Adama felt the impact of the nukes on The Colony, not really comprehending at first what could have caused such a massive jolt. All the Vipers and Raptors had been recalled. What could have caused such monumental explosions? Something within Galactica, or something on The Colony? He wasn't sure, but he was sure that whatever it was would rip Galactica apart if they didn't disengage from the hole they had created in The Colony.

"We gotta get out of here", he screamed, cradling Laura Roslin in his grasp. He looked up to see the closest person to the FTL was Starbuck. "Starbuck, jump the ship!"

 As she scrambled towards the Jump mechanism, she hollered back "I don't have the rendezvous coordinates!", realizing if she jumped blindly, they could end up inside a star or something just as final.

Adama didn't hesitate "Doesn't matter, just jump us out of here now! Jump..."

Galactica came out of the jump with sickening screeches and explosions as if she split asunder. The damage that Chief Tyrol had found from too many corners that had been cut during her original construction, plus the damage caused by the apocalyptic battle against The Colony and the desperate jump to escape, was almost too much for the old girl. Her superstructure bent and contorted, like a wet washcloth being wrung out. Fires broke out topside as if an oven had been lit and more pieces of the ship flew off, floating along with the crippled ship through space. But she remained intact. The sub -light engines miraculously cut back on. Galactica limped forward

Admiral Adama got to his feet as the ship stabilized, and looked around what remained of the CIC. "XO, Sitrep. Damage report".

Tigh, still up on the scaffold where Sam and the other four Cylons had been attempting to download the Resurrection designs for Cavil, glanced down at Tory's lifeless body, her head grotesquely twisted to one side after Galen had snapped her neck. Serves her right, he said to himself as he passed The Chief, who was staring blankly into nothingness. He'd have done the same frackin' thing to that over-amped Cylon. "Aye, sir", he said out loud descending the stairs.

He almost didn't need to glance at the Systems board. He could feel in his old Cylon bones what he already knew. "We're mostly here. The engines, life support." He began to walk back towards his post at CIC. "But there's red lines through her lateral structural members". He and the Old Man shared a look. "She's broke her back, she'll never jump again."

That stopped everyone on the bridge cold. Everyone in CIC had sensed that Galactica was heavily damaged, but Tigh's words gave it credence. Even so, Adama was still giving orders. "Well, wherever we are is where we're gonna stay."

President Roslin straightened up and looked directly over at the young Captain. She asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"Where have you taken us, Kara?"

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