Husker's gone AWOL
Who: Admiral William Adama and OPEN (hopefully members of the Adama/Galactica family?)
What: definitely no longer in the confines of space anymore.
When: Afternoon
Where: The airport hangar
Rating: PG to be safe.
Status: OPEN
“Husker, this is Galactica.” The voice seemed to crackle through his helmet. “Anything?”
Admiral William Adama gave one last sweep over the area of seemingly empty space before him, before reporting in. “Galactica, Husker. Nothing but the wreckage,” he said, before wincing slightly at the phrasing.
“Galactica, this is Hot Dog,” a younger voice reported in. “I got nothing on my end either.”
“Roger that, Hot Dog.” A pause. “Sure you want to keep this up, Bill? We’ve been through this area a dozen frakkin’ times, and…”
“Then one more frakking time won’t hurt anyone, will it?” Adama replied. “We owe it to them, Saul. If they’re out there…”
“And if they’re not?” came the reply.
But Adama didn’t want to consider that possibility. Didn’t want to think that his son, and the woman who he considered almost like a daughter could be gone. Which was why he had dusted off the flight suit, commandeered his old Viper, and undertook the search personally (under protests from both his XO and the President). He’d always believed in the veracity of a good pair of eyes.
“We’re not leaving until we find them, Saul,” he said, pointedly. And if it meant having him personally fly out there and follow the co-ordinates of his son’s Viper, then so be it. He gave a small cough. “The next set of co-ordinates, Galactica.”
And so it went on for some time. The two pilots combing the regions of space around the gas planet - Hot Dog following Starbuck’s path (and poking around the wreckage of her Viper), while Adama followed his son’s route. He had to admit, it was nice being in the cockpit again - though he wished it had been a more pleasant excuse to do so.
It was as he pointed the Viper’s nose towards what Tigh informed him were Lee’s last known co-ordinates, that things started to get interesting.
“Husker, Galactica,” the wireless crackled again. “Report.”
He took a quick glance around before reporting in. “Galactica, Husker. All quiet so far. It’s funny, you would have thought that there would have been somethi-”
And then, everything went topsy-turvy.
It felt similar to a FTL jump, and the Viper seemed to buckle a little, and spin out of control. While Adama wrestled with the controls, he dimly registered that communications with Hot Dog and the Galactica seemed to have ceased.
When the Viper finally stopped spinning, the next thing that registered was that they were no longer in the confines of space. Rather, Adama found himself hovering over what appeared to be the surface of some kind of city. Figuring that he had somehow ended up above the planet (how he’d managed to do this without hitting the hard deck, he wasn’t exactly sure), and that maybe, just maybe , either Lee or Kara might have crashed there, he decided to take a closer look.
The wireless was not functioning at present (he’d tried to raise Galactica and Hot Dog several times), but he supposed that it might be the gas interfering with transmission.
Strangely enough for a gas planet, it appeared to be inhabited - though even from above, the dwellings looked different to his eyes. Not at all like Colonial architecture. As he was passing over a large ravine, Adama almost stopped the Viper right there and then. Because although it looked like it was in pieces, there was no mistaking the shape of a Mark VII Viper. The only thing keeping him back from landing was that he judged the terrain too hard to land voluntarily. Looked as if Lee’s Viper (there was no doubt in his mind that’s who it belonged to) had landed pretty hard.
So Adama turned his attention reluctantly away from the ravine, and onto searching for a safe place to land his bird. He found it not that far away - this might be a strange planet, but he recognised a runway when he saw one. Then it was just a matter of getting the Viper down safely and in one piece. Which took a little more time than he would have liked - unlike Raptors, Vipers didn’t usually land on planets. But eventually, Adama managed to get the Viper on the ground.
Stepping out of the Viper and onto solid ground, a quick check revealed that (surprisingly, for a gas planet), there was oxygen present. He removed his helmet (the frakking thing was getting heavy), and leaned against the wing, trying to figure out exactly where he was.
What: definitely no longer in the confines of space anymore.
When: Afternoon
Where: The airport hangar
Rating: PG to be safe.
Status: OPEN
“Husker, this is Galactica.” The voice seemed to crackle through his helmet. “Anything?”
Admiral William Adama gave one last sweep over the area of seemingly empty space before him, before reporting in. “Galactica, Husker. Nothing but the wreckage,” he said, before wincing slightly at the phrasing.
“Galactica, this is Hot Dog,” a younger voice reported in. “I got nothing on my end either.”
“Roger that, Hot Dog.” A pause. “Sure you want to keep this up, Bill? We’ve been through this area a dozen frakkin’ times, and…”
“Then one more frakking time won’t hurt anyone, will it?” Adama replied. “We owe it to them, Saul. If they’re out there…”
“And if they’re not?” came the reply.
But Adama didn’t want to consider that possibility. Didn’t want to think that his son, and the woman who he considered almost like a daughter could be gone. Which was why he had dusted off the flight suit, commandeered his old Viper, and undertook the search personally (under protests from both his XO and the President). He’d always believed in the veracity of a good pair of eyes.
“We’re not leaving until we find them, Saul,” he said, pointedly. And if it meant having him personally fly out there and follow the co-ordinates of his son’s Viper, then so be it. He gave a small cough. “The next set of co-ordinates, Galactica.”
And so it went on for some time. The two pilots combing the regions of space around the gas planet - Hot Dog following Starbuck’s path (and poking around the wreckage of her Viper), while Adama followed his son’s route. He had to admit, it was nice being in the cockpit again - though he wished it had been a more pleasant excuse to do so.
It was as he pointed the Viper’s nose towards what Tigh informed him were Lee’s last known co-ordinates, that things started to get interesting.
“Husker, Galactica,” the wireless crackled again. “Report.”
He took a quick glance around before reporting in. “Galactica, Husker. All quiet so far. It’s funny, you would have thought that there would have been somethi-”
And then, everything went topsy-turvy.
It felt similar to a FTL jump, and the Viper seemed to buckle a little, and spin out of control. While Adama wrestled with the controls, he dimly registered that communications with Hot Dog and the Galactica seemed to have ceased.
When the Viper finally stopped spinning, the next thing that registered was that they were no longer in the confines of space. Rather, Adama found himself hovering over what appeared to be the surface of some kind of city. Figuring that he had somehow ended up above the planet (how he’d managed to do this without hitting the hard deck, he wasn’t exactly sure), and that maybe, just maybe , either Lee or Kara might have crashed there, he decided to take a closer look.
The wireless was not functioning at present (he’d tried to raise Galactica and Hot Dog several times), but he supposed that it might be the gas interfering with transmission.
Strangely enough for a gas planet, it appeared to be inhabited - though even from above, the dwellings looked different to his eyes. Not at all like Colonial architecture. As he was passing over a large ravine, Adama almost stopped the Viper right there and then. Because although it looked like it was in pieces, there was no mistaking the shape of a Mark VII Viper. The only thing keeping him back from landing was that he judged the terrain too hard to land voluntarily. Looked as if Lee’s Viper (there was no doubt in his mind that’s who it belonged to) had landed pretty hard.
So Adama turned his attention reluctantly away from the ravine, and onto searching for a safe place to land his bird. He found it not that far away - this might be a strange planet, but he recognised a runway when he saw one. Then it was just a matter of getting the Viper down safely and in one piece. Which took a little more time than he would have liked - unlike Raptors, Vipers didn’t usually land on planets. But eventually, Adama managed to get the Viper on the ground.
Stepping out of the Viper and onto solid ground, a quick check revealed that (surprisingly, for a gas planet), there was oxygen present. He removed his helmet (the frakking thing was getting heavy), and leaned against the wing, trying to figure out exactly where he was.