“We’ve got contacts.”
Commander Danadama birthed no emotion.
“How many?”
“Five Cylon Basestars.” Petty Officer Dualla’s voice trembled.
“Sir,” interrupted Lt. Agathon, “we only have four Cylon contacts.”
Petty Officer Dualla slammed her fist against her screen, “There are, FIVE, lights.”
“One of those is us,” spat Agathon.
“Sir, Lt. Agathon is a Cylon.”
Colonel Tigh awoke from a stupor. He was drunk, angry and his balls hurt.
“That is it,” he roared, drawing his firearm which had been wedged between his legs, “ I have had it with these mother fracking Cylons, on this mother fracking Battlestar.”
Danadama spoke. “Old friend, there are no Cylons on Galactica.”
“Sir, we’re receiving a transmission.”
“Put it on speakers Lt. Roborg.”
Roborg’s one red eye flashed across his face. “By your command.”
There was static first and then a voice.
“I don’t think they’re going to pick up.”
“This is Galactica Actual.”
“This is, uh, Cylon Actual. Listen, about that war, we’ve had a change of, uh, faith. We don’t believe in God anymore.” “Yeah fuck God,” chimed another voice.
“We found something way better to believe. So, you know, sorry… about the nuking and genocide…and stuff.” “Uh, so, we’ll be off, busy busy busy.”
“Target the lead Cylon ship.”
“Bringing guns online”
Danadama’s knuckles were white. “You destroyed everything we hold dear. You brought our people to the brink of extinction. You expect it to end like that.”
A new voice broke over the speakers.
“Danadama, you know, I could have killed you in your sleep.”
…
Almost everyone in the Galactica control centre turned to look at Danadama. Tigh, the only exception pulled at his collar. His face was covered in grey stubble and booze sweat. His ass hurt like hell and his gun was missing. Finally, he turned to his leader.
“It’s a beautiful morning,” said Danadama, “why don’t I make breakfast.”
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Day 1. Part 1
Day one of my new life. I am finally starting my dream job. I had set the alarm set to wake me early as I wanted to be sure I wouldn’t be late. 5.00 alarm goes off. 10.00 I awake to find myself in a sitting position with one arm on the off button of the alarm.
“Shit, I’m late.” I scream. Although there was no one there to hear me.
I jump up fall over one of my shoes and smash my forehead into the wall. Damn but this day was off to a bad start. I start to pile the assortment of clothing and shoes which are currently on the floor into a heap. Sure it would be a lot better to actually tidy everything away but who has time for that?
I am still trying to get my second shoe on when I get to the elevator. The elevator is on the ground floor, I’m on the fifth, I start work at 8, it is currently 10.10 but I have an ace up my sleeve. It’s a little known fact that by pressing the elevator button as many times as possible the elevator will arrive sooner. I am in the middle of this flurry of finger work when the door beside me opens.
“Kelly rent”, says my grossly over weight landlord. What little hair he has left is black and from the corner of my eye I can see that he is wearing a string vest and a pair of boxers.
“What is a little money between friends?” I say without taking my eyes off the elevator button.
“It’s the difference between you living here and you living on the street.” He says in a rasping voice.
“Not a big difference then.” I mumble.
“Rent is paid by the end of the week or your out” he says and disappears back into the void he calls his home.
Finally my finger tapping pays off and the elevator opens. One occupant an old lady with the thickest pair of glasses I have ever seen. As I press lobby I note that she has pressed the 6th floor. Damn I think I do not need this today. As we get to the sixth floor and the doors have opened she looks out then looks at the elevator buttons.
“Oh dear,” she mumbles “I thought I pressed 8”.
“NOOO” I scream and grasp her by the shoulders. With all of my strength I launch the little old lady head first out of the elevator. The doors close to the shouts of “My hip, my hip” but hell at least I am on my way once more.
10.15, the doors open on the ground floor and I am off and running. I have to run 8 blocks and some how go back in time more that 2 hours, still no one ever said first days are easy.
As I get out the front door I run straight into the postman sending him flying into a parked car. I don’t even slow down I’m late and that bastard never gives me anything but bills.
“Shit, I’m late.” I scream. Although there was no one there to hear me.
I jump up fall over one of my shoes and smash my forehead into the wall. Damn but this day was off to a bad start. I start to pile the assortment of clothing and shoes which are currently on the floor into a heap. Sure it would be a lot better to actually tidy everything away but who has time for that?
I am still trying to get my second shoe on when I get to the elevator. The elevator is on the ground floor, I’m on the fifth, I start work at 8, it is currently 10.10 but I have an ace up my sleeve. It’s a little known fact that by pressing the elevator button as many times as possible the elevator will arrive sooner. I am in the middle of this flurry of finger work when the door beside me opens.
“Kelly rent”, says my grossly over weight landlord. What little hair he has left is black and from the corner of my eye I can see that he is wearing a string vest and a pair of boxers.
“What is a little money between friends?” I say without taking my eyes off the elevator button.
“It’s the difference between you living here and you living on the street.” He says in a rasping voice.
“Not a big difference then.” I mumble.
“Rent is paid by the end of the week or your out” he says and disappears back into the void he calls his home.
Finally my finger tapping pays off and the elevator opens. One occupant an old lady with the thickest pair of glasses I have ever seen. As I press lobby I note that she has pressed the 6th floor. Damn I think I do not need this today. As we get to the sixth floor and the doors have opened she looks out then looks at the elevator buttons.
“Oh dear,” she mumbles “I thought I pressed 8”.
“NOOO” I scream and grasp her by the shoulders. With all of my strength I launch the little old lady head first out of the elevator. The doors close to the shouts of “My hip, my hip” but hell at least I am on my way once more.
10.15, the doors open on the ground floor and I am off and running. I have to run 8 blocks and some how go back in time more that 2 hours, still no one ever said first days are easy.
As I get out the front door I run straight into the postman sending him flying into a parked car. I don’t even slow down I’m late and that bastard never gives me anything but bills.
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