Z-plus 25 years: Epilogue
"Patrol group, this is the Galactica. You are clear for landing approach." It was shift change around the Battlestar; a new group has just come out, and so two Vipers and a Raptor were heading for the deck.
"Galactica, Lucky: copy, that. We're setting up for approach," the Raptor's ECO replied.
"Last one on the deck owes me some ambrosia," was the first thing to come across the wireless system once the three-craft squadron had excluded the LSO from their communications loop.
"I'm not racing you, Orion," Romeo told him from his spot in one of the Vipers.
"Come on, you know you want to," the other fighter pilot replied.
"Nope. It ain't happening."
"Aw, what's the matter, Romeo; afraid he'll beat you?" the fourth member of the group, call-sign Starfox, asked. Lucky just laughed at his pilot's antics.
"This coming from the girl in a Raptor," Romeo shot back.
"Hey, my Raptor could kick your ass, too!"
"I'll second that," Lucky added.
"Forget it," he told them. "I've just gotten in enough trouble with the LSO already this week, that's all."
"Gee, that sounds like a forfeit to me," Orion said. "How about to you, Starfox?"
"I think so," she agreed.
"I'm not forfeiting!" Romeo insisted.
Orion laughed. "Then let's go, on my mark."
He sighed, getting his Viper ready. "Fine."
"Three…two…one…mark!" And with that, there were two fighters coming into Galactica's port side landing bay way hotter than they were ever supposed to. Starfox kept the Raptor trailing surprisingly close behind them, handling the vehicle with more grace than many other pilots could.
Just to keep the Landing Signal Officer from murdering them in cold blood, Romeo and Orion eased up on the throttles as they came inside. They knew that making an unnecessary combat landing would get them into more trouble than the race was worth, so they both had to get their birds under a little bit more control before touching down on the deck. What neither of them realized, however, was that since Starfox had been going slower in the first place, she and Lucky were able to touch down quicker. Since the race had been 'first one on the deck,' it looked like they had won.
"Three down," Lucky reported to the LSO. "Leg locks secure."
"So, which one of you is bringing the drinks?" Starfox asked the other two pilots as the lift began to move the Raptor down from the deck.
Seventeen-year-old Caroline, or Carrie, 'Starfox' Adama grinned at her brother and best friend as the hatch on her Raptor opened and she jumped down from it. "Anybody got a light?" she asked, playfully waving around a stogie, as they climbed down the ladders from their cockpits.
Twenty-one-year-old Evan 'Romeo' Tyrol rolled his eyes, but started digging through his pockets for a lighter. Before he could find one, though, Carrie's brother plucked the cigar from her hand.
"At least have the sense not to smoke these on deck," Zak 'Orion' Adama told her. "I don't give a frak what you do in your bunkroom, but Mom would kill me if she found out that I was letting you get away with it."
"Aw, poor baby. Being the oldest must really be wretched."
"You are insufferable, you know that?" he asked. Carrie only smiled wider.
"I know. Aren't you glad Mom and Dad decided not to let you be an only child?"
"Hmm, 'glad'…that wasn't quite the word I was thinking of." Zak dodged the elbow his sister tried to hit him in the side with. "Watch it, rook," he told her. "I'm still a superior officer."
"How could I ever forget, Sir?"
"Lieutenants!" They all spun around at the sound of the CAG's voice booming across the deck, snapping to attention. "Where's your ECO?" he asked Carrie.
"Finishing the post-flight, Sir." That answer seemed to be acceptable enough that Lucky's presence wasn't required at the moment.
"Would one of you mind telling me what the frak that was in the landing pod?"
"Just…testing out some flight capabilities on the Mark IVa's, Sir," Evan thought up on the fly.
"Uh-huh. I'm gonna be testing your divot-pounding capabilities if there are any holes in the deck."
"Yes, Sir!" they all chorused. By then, though, the CAG wasn't doing much better of a job of hiding a smile than his three pilots were. He enjoyed giving them a hard time.
"Who won, at least?" Captain Boxman Tyrol asked his little brother and friends. Carrie raised her hand. "You guys are pitiful," he told Evan and Zak. "Either help with maintenance or get off my deck. "The three saluted as he walked off.
"Well, then, I guess we've got another shift starting, huh?" Zak commented, looking around at the bustling hangar deck.
It wasn't much of a surprise when the CAG looked around deck a little while later and saw Zak, Evan, and Carrie all underneath the same Viper, chattering away as they worked. They were nearly inseparable, and usually a rather dangerous combination. Carrie – who was named after her paternal grandmother – was the youngest pilot on Galactica, but made up for her inexperience with raw, undeniable talent. She'd learned to fly a Raptor earlier than most pilots finish basic flight, and would soon be tackling fighters as well. Evan was just a few months past being classified as a rookie Viper pilot, and was just as good at fixing birds as he was flying them. He was the quick-thinker in the group, and it was usually up to him to try to talk them out of whatever sticky situation Zak got them into. Their hijinks had led to some pretty remarkable disciplinary records that were only matched by the impressiveness of their flight records.
The threesome spent the next few hours helping the deck crew with Galactica's complement of Mark IIIa and Mark IVa models. All of the fighters were supposed to be participating in a 're-commissioning' ceremony for Galactica that was supposed to be held the next day. The Battlestar was seventy years old, had lived through two wars, and been in use far longer than anyone had ever intended. Her crew had spent the past couple of years doing an overhaul from top to bottom. Everything was finally complete, and the commander had arranged a fleet-wide celebration.
"Okay, I'm out of here," Zak said to the other two a little while later after he checked the time. "If I'm supposed to be in a dress uniform in a half hour, then I suppose I should go make myself look presentable." Carrie looked down at her own grease-covered hands.
"I guess the same thing holds true for me, too, doesn't it?"
Zak teasingly poked at another smudge that was on his sister's face. "Gee, you're quick."
"Are we still on for our usual card game in the mess hall?" Evan asked them. Zak grinned.
"Yeah, I'll bring the deck."
"You'd better be bringing the ambrosia I'm owed as well," Carrie told him.
"You're not old enough to drink!" Zak cried.
"Since when has that ever mattered?"
Evan laughed at the look of exasperation on Zak's face. Carrie may have looked like her father, but she had a rebellious streak that was like her mother made over. "She's your sister," he reminded his friend.
Zak snorted. "Yeah, that means I didn't have a choice in the matter. What's your excuse?" Evan just shrugged. "Besides, you've got a sister, too."
"Yeah, except Hope's on a different ship. So that gives me harrassment rights on you."
"Weren't we supposed to be somewhere?" Carrie cut in.
"Oh, right," Zak told her. "Because Lords know you're ever late to anything."
Evan shook his head, laughing at his friends. "Have fun with the paparazzi," he told them.
"Oh, I'm sure we will," Zak sarcastically replied as he and Carrie left the deck.
He entered Galactica's conference room twenty-six minutes later, trying to straighten his dress uniform. Unlike when he was a child, Zak far preferred other clothes – like a flight suit, for example – to dress blues, but he could grin and bear it when need be. He noticed the ship's XO enter the room, and an, "Afternoon, Sir," with a salute were automatic.
"What do you hear?" Commander Kara Thrace asked her son. Zak grinned.
"Nothing but the rain."
"Grab your gun and bring in the cat."
"The cat beat him back the deck," Carrie told her mother as she entered the room as well. "Sir," she belatedly added with a salute of her own.
Kara just smiled. "You two were racing on duty again?"
"Lieutenant Orion doesn't seem to know when to give up," Carrie teased her brother.
"Hey, I beat you back to the deck, I just didn't beat you onto the deck. There's a difference."
"Yeah, well, pretty soon I'm going to be flying Vipers, too, and then I'll beat you in any way you'd like."
"Dream on," Zak shot back. "So where's Dad?"
"It's not my turn to watch him," Kara replied. "He's been out of the CIC most of the day."
"Well, then since we've got a minute, can somebody please remind me of the point of this thing again?" Carrie asked.
"A civilization needs history," Kara told her. "As much as we all hate it, we're part of that history. And you can't learn anything from the past if it's not documented…or some nonsense like that."
"You're a third generation ace-in-the-making," Zak told his sister. "Deal with it."
"I think I liked Mom's version better," Carrie decided. Zak rolled his eyes.
"Well, I suppose three out of four isn't bad," the military PR person said as he came in with a gaggle of reporters following behind. "Although, number four is rather important."
"That's a matter of opinion," Commander Lee Adama said as he entered the room. "Don't start," he told both of his children before they could either call for attention on deck or offer salutes. He had enough people kissing his ass every day in the CIC – he didn't need it from his family when they were all technically off duty.
"Yes, Sir," they replied with smiles.
"Where do you want us?" Lee asked the PR man.
"How about we put the flags in the background," he suggested. They all moved to stand in front of the flags for Galactica and the Colonies that were hanging on the wall. "Let's get the Commanders in the middle…very nice, I like that. Lieutenant Adama, would you stand on the left?"
"Which one?" Zak and Carrie asked in almost perfect unison. The man looked confused.
"Um…left, beside your father."
"No, which Lieutenant Adama," Zak clarified.
"Oh! Lieutenant Junior Grade."
"You know, you can just call me Carrie," she said as she moved to stand where he'd requested. "Or you could use our call signs."
"See, that's a perfect example of why I never changed my last name," Kara told her husband.
"Did I ever argue with you?"
Once all four of them were assembled, the photographers started clicking away. Considering they weren't even changing poses, Lee couldn't figure out why they all needed so many shots. A moment before he would have ended the thing himself, the PR person calling,
"All right, thank you very much," was the cue for the reporters to move on to the next stop on their tour. After a few moments, the Adama family was left alone in the conference room.
"I managed to dig something up a couple days ago," Zak told his father before he could leave. "I thought this would be an appropriate time to give it to you." He handed Lee a framed picture, which had been taken in honor of Galactica's decommissioning ceremony. Lee and his father were standing rather stiffly for the photo in the very same room they were in now. "Just a little reminder of when the ship was unofficially un-decommissioned," Zak explained. "I know he'd be proud of you, if he was here."
Lee smiled at his son, eyes bright. "Thank you."
"Lords help us if Zak winds up in command one day," Carrie said, trying to lighten things up a bit.
"I gotta get to being CAG first," he replied. She considered that.
"Yeah, all right. You're almost a big enough dipstick for that job."
Lee could hear them playfully bickering, just like they'd been doing every day since Carrie had learned to talk, but he wasn't really paying much attention to anything other than the picture in his hands. He finally looked up when Kara's fingers twined through his. "Is that going in your office?" she asked.
"I was thinking of the corridor outside CIC. I mean, it's more his ship than mine. It's always been his ship."
"Can you believe it's been almost 30 years since that was taken?" Lee looked back at his children.
"Yeah. I see them, and I can believe it. And I wouldn't change a thing."
FIN.
This last part was just a random burst of inspiration I got, but now I'm debating coming up with a third story that would be Zak, Carrie, and their squadron's adventures. Yay or nay? And thanks so much for all the reviews and support I've gotten. This is one of the biggest things I've ever undertaken, and I'm hoping that it turned out well.
UPDATE: I've gotten started on the third story in this series, Foreverland. It takes place about a year before this epilogue, and answers a lot of questions that have been common in the review's I've received.