The Hunted (nBSG)

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Vianca
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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Vianca » 2013-02-23 12:55pm

Yeah, my thoughts as well, MondoMage.
Would probably have been called a Battle-Ram by the Colonials in both honor of the ancient (historical) battleram and their current Land-Ram APC´s and flad-bed transports.
Remember, we Eartlings call a Tank a Tank thanks to a piece of miss-direction during WWI, to hid the self-propelt-armored-fort development project as a project to design a new way to store liquids in great quantities (or some such).
The Colonials are a bit more ancient oriënted and so their miss-directions could be that way as well, besides, a Tank makes for a great battleram, so it´s even true, in a twisted way.
Nothing like the present.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by masterarminas » 2013-02-24 11:24am

Episode 19: Requiem

Michael Weyland frowned at his aides and the mercenary commander of his body-guard. “The facility has fallen?”

“The Cylons took out our defenses handily, Mister Weyland,” reported Major Morton. “It was a safe facility—we thought. Just a platoon of lightly armed security designed to keep away the civilians.”

“On the bright side,” Jared Shultz spoke up, “we have a complete copy of the research files downloaded with no lost data.”

“That we know of,” muttered Weyland. “And the actual scientists we had pursuing these lines of development are lost to us.” And Shultz shrugged. Weyland sighed again. “Have the Cylons attempted to down-load the information?”

“Remote telemetry shows they are attempting to do so,” Shultz answered. “So far, they haven’t cracked the security encryptions, however.”

“They will, if we give them time,” Weyland answered and then he nodded. “Very well. Activate the Omega Protocol.”

The mercenaries and aides winced. “Sir,” Morton began to say.

“Save it, Major. We cannot let these creatures gain access to our research on improving synthetics—if they can incorporate our knowledge into their own designs, they will become even more of a threat.”

“Agreed, Sir,” Morton continued, but he shook his head. “I feel that I have to say that Governor Clark will not appreciate a nuclear detonation on his soil.”

Weyland smirked. “We’ll blame it on the Cylons. Send the order—activate Omega for immediate detonation.”

Schultz nodded. “Sending the order.”

****************************************************

“NUCLEAR DETONATION ON THE SURFACE!” snapped one of General Cabot’s aides.

Brenda’s head snapped around and she blanched as the holographic projection of a massive fireball suddenly blossomed on the display. “WHO AUTHORIZED THAT?” she barked.

“No one, General,” answered Captain Phil Benning. “It isn’t ours or the Fleets. And it wasn’t delivered by air or missile strike,” he paused. “General, it is centered on the Weyland-Yutani research facility—could the Cylons have decided to nuke it themselves?”

Brenda cursed. “More likely it was that asshole Weyland,” she snapped. “Magnitude?”

“Fifty megatons—there is significant collateral damage, General,” replied Benning. “But on the bright side, it tore one hell of a hole in the Cylon forces.”

“Fallout patterns?”

“Looks like the winds will push the majority out over the sea,” the Captain answered briskly. “Eight small towns are within the destruction radii, another twenty-two will be severely damaged—but all thirty have already been overrun by the Cylons.”

Another aide looked up, holding a phone. “General, ma’am. The Governor is on the line for you—and he sounds pissed.”

Brenda sighed. “At least the Guard are holding the line,” she whispered and then she lifted the phone. “Thad? Yes, I am monitoring it now. No, it wasn’t us.” And she winced as Governor began to lambast her anyway.

****************************************************

By the time that the Battle of Beowulf officially drew to a close, the defending forces were utterly exhausted. Between the human artillery and main battle tanks—tanks like nothing the Cylons had ever before encountered—and air support and orbital fire support, the Cylon assault was halted and then smashed long before it ever got into the suburbs of the capital. But the fanatical machines—with no fear of their own deaths—made the humans kill each and every surviving Cylon. And in the end, the Guard and the Marines and the CAC Shock Regiment and the TWE Paras and all of the other reservists and volunteers suffered heavy casualties—half of their number lay wounded or dead. And with the defenders, some eighty thousand civilians had perished as well.

Although Brenda Cabot suspected that Weyland had triggered the nuke, she didn’t have the proof—especially since once it was obvious that the Guardians were bound to lose this fight, they broke out their own nuclear weapons. Suicide charges carried into the defensive lines by individual Cylons.

Still it had been a victory. And like all victories, it was celebrated, even as the first reinforcements of humanity arrived in system.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by masterarminas » 2013-02-24 06:42pm

“FRACK!” shouted Cally. “What is she doing back on this ship?”

The rest of the deck gang paused and they stared as the scarred Boomer stepped down from a Raptor in the company of six other human-form Cylons. Boomer looked over at her—and her eyes were cold and narrowed as she recognized the woman who had shot and killed her so many months ago. Then the Cylon looked away, and Cally gritted her teeth. The bitch was just going to ignore her—damn her! It was like she thought Cally was nothing, the young woman thought, and she felt her blood begin to boil.

Still holding her wrench she began to march across the deck to where Major Shaw and a group of Marines were standing to escort the Cylons, when she was—literally!—pulled up short by a firm hand on her arm.

“Back to work, Cally,” Chief Tyrol ordered. “She’s none of your concern.”

“Frack you,” the young woman yelled out as she jerked away from Galen Tyrol. “I don’t answer to a toaster—and if you ever lay a hand on me again, I’ll . . . ,” she growled, but then the words died in her throat.

“You’ll what?” asked Tyrol, his face turning a beet red as he placed his hands on his hips. “I am still Chief of this deck, Specialist! Now get back to work getting that Viper ready for operations!”

Cally swallowed and she pointed the wrench at Tyrol, her eyes watering. “You are one of them! Not one of us! Why are you even still here?”

“Is there a problem, Chief?” asked Major Shaw.

“No, Ma’am,” Galen began, but Cally interrupted him.

“Frack yes, there is a problem, Major! He’s the problem! She’s the problem! That fracking Cylon bitch shot the Admiral! And he was fracking her the entire time she planned it! Neither one of them deserve to be on this boat!”

“That is a matter well above your pay grade, Specialist,” Shaw answered. “And speaking for the Admiral, this is Galen Tyrol’s deck—so you have ten seconds to get back to work.”

“And if we decide that we aren’t going to take orders from a toaster anymore?” Cally spat and Shaw shook her head.

“Sergeant Hadrian!” she barked, and the master-at-arms came over from the escort.

“Ma’am?”

“Take Specialist Henderson into custody and stick her in the brig—the charges are insubordination, contempt for the chain of command, dereliction of duty, and conduct unbecoming a serving member of the Colonial Fleet.”

WHAT?” shouted Cally, not even realizing that she still held the wrench in one hand and was raising it instinctively.

Hadrian drew her weapon. “PUT IT ON THE DECK! NOW!” she snapped.

“Major Shaw, I can handle this,” said Galen quietly.

“No, Chief. I am handling this,” Shaw answered as Cally dropped the wrench. She stepped up close to Cally. “Specialist, I am giving you one last opportunity—get back to work, and this matter will be dropped. Otherwise, you will not like the consequences.”

“You’re from Pegasus!” Cally wailed. “Why are you taking their side?”

Shaw shook her head again. “Put her in the brig, Sergeant,” she ordered—and Cally spat in Shaw’s face.

The short dark-haired woman reached up and wiped away the glob and she stepped up close to Cally. “Count your blessings you aren’t on Pegasus, Specialist. An assault on a superior officer doesn’t get coddled there. Take her away,” she snapped.

Galen opened his mouth, but Shaw shook her head again. “I don’t want to hear it, Chief—and the Admiral wants you in the briefing. With them,” she added, pointing at the Cylon guests. “NOW.”

Galen Tyrol set his jaw and then he nodded, and yelling instructions at his subordinates, he stormed off the deck, behind the Cylon guests.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by MondoMage » 2013-02-24 07:11pm

Heh. About time someone put Cally in her place. Not that I don't like her - I think she got absolutely, positively screwed in the series... but she got away with entirely too much. Admittedly, she wasn't the only one. But this should serve as one hell of a wake-up call. And one that's been long needed.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Shawn » 2013-02-25 01:03pm

Is it me or is a 50 megaton weapon a bit of overkill?

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Diverball » 2013-02-25 01:23pm

Shawn wrote:Is it me or is a 50 megaton weapon a bit of overkill?
It does rather seem that way. Especially for a facility that YT only saw fit to give a light guard force. You'd think that if they were that desperate to keep the research from being compromised, they'd have better defences. Of course, we don't know that synthetics were the only thing they were researching. If they had a bio-warfare lab there as well, then you can understand the need for an aggressive sterilisation contingency.
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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Shawn » 2013-02-25 01:48pm

This a ground burst of a device equal to the Tsar Bomba that the Soviet Union detonated. According to Wiki (yes, I know) it would have given exposed skin third degree burns at 62 miles. Lord knows what the EMP of that beast would have been like. One would think that the Guardians would all have had their internal circuits fried even if they were hardened.

MA, just a suggestion, you may want to dial that down to 1 meagaton device. Big, but not absurdly big.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by MondoMage » 2013-02-25 02:07pm

Shawn wrote:This a ground burst of a device equal to the Tsar Bomba that the Soviet Union detonated. According to Wiki (yes, I know) it would have given exposed skin third degree burns at 62 miles. Lord knows what the EMP of that beast would have been like. One would think that the Guardians would all have had their internal circuits fried even if they were hardened.

MA, just a suggestion, you may want to dial that down to 1 meagaton device. Big, but not absurdly big.

EMP effects from a ground-level thermonuclear detonation are much less than those of an atmospheric burst. While not negligible, any EMP from the blast would have been less destructive than the effects of the detonation itself.

But I have to agree - 50 megatons is way overkill. Depending on the actual size of the "facility," something in the order of kilotons would be more than sufficient. Especially if the device were designed to enhance the natural EMP effects, to scramble any electronics that remained.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Shawn » 2013-02-25 05:07pm

MondoMage wrote:
Shawn wrote:This a ground burst of a device equal to the Tsar Bomba that the Soviet Union detonated. According to Wiki (yes, I know) it would have given exposed skin third degree burns at 62 miles. Lord knows what the EMP of that beast would have been like. One would think that the Guardians would all have had their internal circuits fried even if they were hardened.

MA, just a suggestion, you may want to dial that down to 1 meagaton device. Big, but not absurdly big.

EMP effects from a ground-level thermonuclear detonation are much less than those of an atmospheric burst. While not negligible, any EMP from the blast would have been less destructive than the effects of the detonation itself.

But I have to agree - 50 megatons is way overkill. Depending on the actual size of the "facility," something in the order of kilotons would be more than sufficient. Especially if the device were designed to enhance the natural EMP effects, to scramble any electronics that remained.
I was just thinking about that stupid Galactica 1980 where a Centurian is taken out by a microwave oven. :roll: If a microwave could do that, just imagine what an EMP would do. :lol:

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Borgholio » 2013-02-25 05:53pm

A toaster being zapped by a microwave. I told you, kitchen appliances are evil.
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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Diverball » 2013-02-25 06:35pm

Borgholio wrote:A toaster being zapped by a microwave. I told you, kitchen appliances are evil.
http://exterminatusnow.co.uk/2004-04-16 ... -solution/
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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by declan » 2013-02-25 10:25pm

Shawn wrote:Is it me or is a 50 megaton weapon a bit of overkill?

I think its fine for the story, in real life its over kill, but in the context of where did WY get the nuke from, then it works. I'm thinking they make nukes for either the fleet or these are engineering devices for asteroids and what not, that sorta fell off the truck.

So fifty megatons would be a normal size for either of the two options , it didnt hurt that the cylons use really big nukes themselves either, for the cover story.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2013-02-26 12:02am

A thought on the tanks issue. It is entirely possible that the Colonials never had the same set of circumstances to develop tanks. If they never had anything analogous to WW1 then tank development may never have happened.

Or, more likely, the whole concept of tanks was developed pre-unification, used and then abandoned since any ground combat in interplanetary wars would have been in and around cities. By the time of the Cylon War tanks may wel have been ancient history, not worth programming Cylons with.
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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by masterarminas » 2013-02-27 08:45pm

The new job has been kicking my ass. Sorry for the lack of updates, but I am dragging today after fourteen straight. Hopefully, I should have a few days off coming soon, and I will have the chance to post more.

MA

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by declan » 2013-02-27 09:58pm

masterarminas wrote:The new job has been kicking my ass. Sorry for the lack of updates, but I am dragging today after fourteen straight. Hopefully, I should have a few days off coming soon, and I will have the chance to post more.

MA
Totally understandable, I think everyone has been there at some point. Thanks for what you have posted.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by masterarminas » 2013-03-05 02:16pm

Galen Tyrol came to a halt outside the main briefing room aboard Galactica. Saul and Ellen Tigh, Sam Anders, Tory Foster, and Brother Cavil stood there—but they were not alone. Number One, D’Anna Biers; Leoben Conoy, Simon O’Neil; Aaron Doral, and Caprica Six were there as well. And Sharon Valerii—the original Sharon, Boomer.

“Hello Chief,” said the badly scarred woman in a quiet voice—and Galen’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t say a word, but he walked up to her and he took her in his arms and held her tight against him—and Boomer sobbed as she put her arms around him.

Neither one was certain of how much time had passed, but at last, Saul Tigh cleared his throat. “Admiral Adama is waiting, Chief—or are you and Boomer going to find a supply closet while we wait?”

Galen and Sharon stepped back, and Boomer looked up to see her own tears mirrored on the Chief’s face. “I’m hideous now,” she whispered.

“No,” Galen said in answer as he shook his head, “no, Boomer, you are not.”

“I’ve missed you,” both whispered in unison, and then they laughed.

“For frack’s sake, Chief!” snarled Saul. “The Old Man is waiting!”

And at the same time, One shook his head. “Always with the personal before business, eh, Boomer?”

The two men turned to glare at each other, and Brother Cavil from Scorpia chuckled, even as Ellen Tigh nudged Saul in the ribs with her elbow. “We have time, brothers and sisters—let these two celebrate their reunion,” he said softly. “Of course, we do not have unlimited time,” he continued with a smile. “Shall we join the Admiral?”

One by one, the remaining Cylons nodded and they filed in through the hatch, to see Admiral Adama, Commander Jayne, President Adama, Vice-President Zarek, and several members of the Thirteenth Tribe awaiting them.

William Adama waited until all of them took their seats and then he nodded at one of the guards. The guard stepped outside and ushered in Sidewinder, then he closed the hatch.

“Captain Greene has completed a recon pass over the several worlds which Weyland-Yutani has made available to use as their part of our bargain,” the Admiral said. “Sidewinder?”

“Of the six worlds whose coordinates we were given, three were . . . barely habitable, although possessed of a relatively high level of mineral wealth. The remaining three were far more suited to colonization,” he continued as pictures of the worlds appeared on the various monitors. “This one,” he said as he highlighted and enlarged one picture, “is probably the best choice that we have. It is a cooler world than Caprica or Scorpia—but not as cold as Aquaria was. Gravity and atmospheric pressure are well within the comfort range and the planet has liquid water in abundance—around 70% of the total surface area. Most of the oceanic ranges are salt-water, but there is ample inland fresh water and the vegetation and native life are edible. Furthermore, this system has large deposits of tylium ore in two separate asteroid fields.”

He sat and Adama stood again. “On behalf of the President,” he said with a nod to his son, “I have informed Director Sinclair of the ICC and Mister Weyland that we will accept this world. The civilian Fleet, escorted by Galactica and Aurora will be moving out to begin settlement within the next twelve hours.”

And murmurs of excitement carried around the room.

Adama nodded. “We have already begun discussing future operations against the Guardians, and Commander Lorne has some suggestions.” Adama nodded at the remaining guard, who opened the hatch—and Mathias Lorne was wheeled in, his face still looking wane from his recent surgery.

“Gentlemen, ladies,” he said softly with a slight wince. Saul Tigh shook his head—the man was tough, of that there was no question. But the bullet fired on Pegasus had severed his spine. This would be his final operation wearing the uniform of the Fleet.

“Once the Fleet arrives at Ophiucha—as the President and Quorum have decided to name our new colony—our primary objective will be to get the naval forces of the Thirteenth Tribe—of Earth—able to match our FTL capability to coordinate actions against the Guardians. I have suggested to the Admiral and the President that we remove the FTL drives from twenty of our civilian ships,” and gasps rose from across the room, “and refit them into Earth vessels of similar size.”

James Alistair Sinclair nodded. “The majority of our vessels are designed so that the engineering section can be detached in the event of catastrophic damage to the drive—the engineering modules can be replaced in a matter of days with the proper support elements, which the Admiral assures me that your Aurora can handle. Once we have tested the drives and ensured that the modifications are successful, that will give us a powerful mobile fleet able to respond instantly to any Guardian incursions—while at the same time, Weyland-Yutani will begin production of drives designed for Earth ships.” Sinclair smiled. “And that will also give us time to locate these . . . tylium deposits . . . and arrange to mine them, extract the ore, and refine them into usable fuel.”

Adama nodded. “We have enough tylium to support operations for several months and our refinery ships will begin processing additional fuel in the Ophiucha system—but that will be the bottleneck.” He scowled and glared at his son, before he shook his head. “Which is why the President has agreed to license tylium production to companies other than Weyland-Yutani.”

“In the meantime,” Lorne continued, “we may have an opportunity to slow down the Guardians. They have but a single Resurrection Ship remaining—and thanks to the Hidden Five we may well be able to locate it.”

The Cylons looked up in shock as Saul Tigh smiled. “We will shut down the replicant Resurrection Ship—and a volunteer will be killed and resurrected in the Guardian’s Fleet. We believe that we can trace the signal—and jump into those coordinates to attack and destroy that vessel. Should we be successful, Zoe will have no choice but to withdraw until she can rebuild the technology.”

“You are mad,” gasped One. “Shut down Resurrection? Our last Resurrection Ship? And one of us must commit suicide to appear in the metallic claws of the Guardians to be stripped of our flesh and bone?”

Sam Anders shook his head. “A Centurion or a Raptor will serve as well, John,” he said. “And yes—the Five of us have decided that we will not be restoring Resurrection or cloning technology. It cheapens our lives—makes each of us dispensable and disposable; we must learn to live our lives as humans, not as machines.”

One swayed, the blood draining from his face. “You condemn us to extinction! You cannot do this!”

“We have, John,” said Ellen. “And the Thir-,” she paused and smiled at Sinclair, “the people of Earth have agreed to correct the problems with our kind conceiving children. We will reproduce in the old-fashioned way—we will become human beings in truth, not just copies.”

“And how do you plan on getting to the Resurrection Ship?” Leoben asked. “Zoe will not leave it unguarded—her Fleet will be there in full force.”

“I’m counting on that,” growled Lorne. “Pegasus and Scorpia will jump in with full flight decks—our own Vipers and Raptors and Thunders as well as every fighter that Earth can spare. The Resurrection Ship is our primary target, but if we can also get a shot at Zoe’s Command Basestar,” he smiled very coldly. “Then we are going to send that bitch straight into the arms of Hades.”

“I have already agreed that we will support this attack with our own Basestar,” added Caprica Six—and Ones face turned a brilliant shade of crimson in shock. “Only a minimum crew will be aboard—the remainder will start our colony on Ophiucha. All available Centurions and Raiders will support our attack,” she added as she shook her head. “The President and Admiral Adama both will not allow either to land on Ophiucha—only human-form replicants.”

One started to protest, but Leoben laid his hand on his brother’s forearm. “We are all—other than you—in agreement, brother. The day has come to start a new course in truth. This is our chance to earn redemption.”

“And with the supplies onboard our five freighters,” added D’Anna, “we will be able to quickly begin our colonization efforts on Ophiucha.”

“Added to which,” chimed in Sinclair, “Earth will be providing support in exchange for your drive technology—among other technologies that you possess which will be very much desired by my people. And I believe that some of our technology will be sought after by yours.”

“This is madness,” One sputtered, throwing off Leoben’s hand from his forearm. “Even if you destroy Zoe’s Resurrection Ship, she still has the force advantage—she can press the attack!”

“Only at the cost of final death for every Guardian who perishes thereafter,” Boomer snapped. “No, John, they will withdraw. However, they will return and when they do so it will be in force.”

“Which is why we have to take this chance now,” Mathias said quietly. “We may not get another shot where we can cripple them in this manner.”

“Agreed, Commander,” said Adama. “If we could afford to wait until the Earth ships were refitted with our drives, we would—but we will get this opportunity only once. Mister President?”

Lee Adama nodded. “Approved. If it buys us even a year . . .,” and his voice trailed off.

“Then our losses will be worth it,” finished Mathias.

“When are you departing?” asked Tom Zarek—and Mathias and Adama exchanged a glance, and then Adama nodded.

“As soon as we load up as many fighters as we can on the decks of Pegasus and Scorpia,” he said. “And every single nuclear weapon we—and the Earth forces in system—can spare.”

For a moment no one said a word, and then Adama sighed. “It is said that fortune favors the bold,” he whispered. “Rear Admiral Lorne,” he said, stressing the first two words, “will command the operation from the command center aboard the Rebel Basestar. May the Lords of Kobol be with you. With all of you.”

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by LadyTevar » 2013-03-05 02:39pm

So, the final fight is lining up.

Which Cylon will volunteer?
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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2013-03-05 03:36pm

Rear Admiral Lorne. Called it!

Incidentally, that's quite a good way of dealing with the shooting. He survives but can no longer be the balls to the wall guy. One last hurrah and a promotion and he can retire early.
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by declan » 2013-03-05 08:07pm

Eternal_Freedom wrote:Rear Admiral Lorne. Called it!

Incidentally, that's quite a good way of dealing with the shooting. He survives but can no longer be the balls to the wall guy. One last hurrah and a promotion and he can retire early.

If he survives the next battle, I dont see a guy like that retiring any time soon. What I can see him doing is either running the new colonial accademy, or leading their version of the joint chiefs of staff.

Adama , him I could see retiring. I dont see what else he might want.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Eternal_Freedom » 2013-03-05 08:20pm

"But the bullet fired on Pegasus had severed his spine. This would be his final operation wearing the uniform of the Fleet."

That sounds like retirement to me. Certainly from active duty. The idea of him running the new Colonial Academy or War College is a good one though.

EDIT: Also, I'm assuming that Adama has now gone from a Rear-Admiral to a Vice or full Admiral now.
Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by declan » 2013-03-06 09:17am

I was just thinking, Adama would probably make a good ambassador

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Themightytom » 2013-03-06 01:42pm

declan wrote:I was just thinking, Adama would probably make a good ambassador

Declan
Seriously Declan what the fuck are you thinking here? WILLIAM ADAMA as an ambassador?


and in other news... Weyland Yutani executive beaten to death with a broken pipe, Adama's mustache still at large...

Edit: tried to attach images but eh...it didn't work.

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declan
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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by declan » 2013-03-06 05:50pm

Themightytom wrote:
declan wrote:I was just thinking, Adama would probably make a good ambassador

Declan
Seriously Declan what the fuck are you thinking here? WILLIAM ADAMA as an ambassador?


and in other news... Weyland Yutani executive beaten to death with a broken pipe, Adama's mustache still at large...

Edit: tried to attach images but eh...it didn't work.
He is an old school battlestar commander, you dont get to be a captain of one of our nimitz class carriers without knowing both politics and a certain amount of diplomacy , so I dont think its as much a stretch as you think it is.

Declan

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by ThatOneCatC » 2013-03-06 07:47pm

I don't know if adama (pre-fall) would count as one of the best officers in the fleet. I am under the impression he was given the galactica in order to retire with honor. It was not a top line vessel at the time, and I believe he was given command in order to put both veterans (ship and man) out to pasture. On any diplomatic front I do not think he would do too great. Not poorly but not great. Adama was a leader of soldiers certainly, but without the constant external military threat, he never came across to me as a person who could negotiate and deal fairly with (civilian) debate and viewpoints. When push comes to shove he is definitely the man of the hour, but he never struck me as somebody with the personal wherewithal to build and lead a community in peace.

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Re: The Hunted (nBSG)

Post by Skywalker_T-65 » 2013-03-06 07:50pm

I thought he was only given the Galactica because of the whole Valkyrie debacle? Though your overall point (the 'put to pasture' part) is correct IIRC.
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