"ONE OF THE OLDEST IF NOT ALREADY THE OLDEST FAN CLUB ORGANIZATION FOR BATTLESTAR GALACTICA"

"There are those who believe that life here began out there, far across the universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefathers of the Egyptians, or the Toltecs, or the Mayans. Some believe that there may yet be brothers of man who even now fight to survive, somewhere beyond the heavens."



" ON JULY 1, 2024, THE BATTLESTAR GALACTICA FAN CLUB CELEBRATES 24 YEARS! " 

NOTE:  **THE WEBSITE WILL GO THROUGH SOME CHANGES FOR THE 25TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE CLUB ORGANIZATION - JULY 1, 2025**

After the Fall of the Twelve Colonies, the fate of humanity rests with the Exodus Fleets of the survivors. They fight for the continued survival of humanity, to preserve civilization and to someday overcome the looming threat of the Cylon.


Within these fleets of civilian and military vessels, each and every ship has its own unique story. An unlikely veil of survival through the nuclear hellfire of the Fall.


The stories of their fate will be told in this series of one-off chapters and artworks, exploring many different ships and offering decisions on how to integrate them to the fleet and how to bring their stories to an end.


All members of the fan club are welcome to participate in the polls posted with each newly added ship and to suggest future vessels which we might find roaming the Cyrannus System.

SO SAY WE ALL

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Jumping while still tethered to A repair ship?? Recipe for disaster!

Out into the unforgiving dark went those who survived the fall. The remnants of humanity, on ships scattered far from their parent stars, hid from the wrath of their returning children and the nuclear fire raining on their once prosperous worlds. Yet even there, in the wake of Armageddon, there were those who saw hope and a future beyond the sheer surviving of another day.


...

The voice of fate, in the tranquil garden temple of the old pantheon, awakened sparks visions of fate and divine signs all across the fleet of Battlestar Raven. On the many gathered ships, oracles speak of the god's wrath at the Cylon's sacrilege and prophecies seek to guide the Seekers on their last journey to find all those survivors still missing. Those returning from their days' long journeys into the inner systems bring stories of terror and loss, but also of miracles and heroic sacrifice. Every new ship arriving has made the journey against all odds, every fate in the fleet seems to be that of a god's chosen.
But there is one story more often told than any other. The story of a miracle hospital ship, a ship of good samaritans visiting those lost ships wandering in the dark, still waiting to be found. All instances of this story, told from people without connection on ships far apart, tell of the same dark and pristine vessel. A ship, they say, accompanied by shuttle and guardian squadrons, watches over the survivors of the fall. It brings supplies and aid to those in dire need, taking on the heavily wounded and returning them healed. This, at least, is the first part of a story. It takes a lot longer listening for the second half to be revealed.
Some say, there are people missing, a few who did not return from the miracle ship.

The story of the miracle hospital vessel is prevalent enough to be heard in the CIC of Battlestar Raven. A dozen or more nearly identical reports, a dark ship coming, taking patients on, dispensing supplies and disappearing without so much of a trace. Theories about it abound among the people – theories of a secret government plan, of a conspiracy or a sign of the gods. But there are darker possibilities few dare to voice. Such ideas are barely considered when the miracle ship is first sighted by one of Raven's search and rescue parties.

Choice:

VOTE HERE: https://www.strawpoll.me/17907157
The 43rd SAR squadron sights the mysterious hospital ship approaching a damaged bulk freighter, its dark form accompanied by a number of undesignated transports and raptors. Neither the ship nor its escorts seem to take note of the Raven's observers. Automated colonial transponder codes are the only answer to the seeker's hails. What action should be taken?

1. Watching & tracing the hospital ship
The incoming vessels show no sign of hostility, despite their unusual silence. The Seekers could continue to watch the craft and prepare a beacon to be attached to its hull as soon as the FTL spools up to trace where it is going to go.

2. Boarding the hospital ship
There's a chance there are missing survivors aboard this ship – at the very least, it's identity should be confirmed. A boarding Raptor stands ready to approach the vessel and quickly send a team of colonial marines in. Whatever is going on, the Fleet needs answers.

3. Attacking the hospital ship
Something is off about this vessel and it cannot be risked to learn anything more. If this is some sort of Cylon ploy, there's no solution but to destroy this craft immediately.

It could be A cylon ruse;After all,there are unconfirmed reports that the cylons are kidnapping humans to experiment on,in order to make copies that are indistinguishable from real humans...we will need more of Dr. Baltar's detection tech..if it's as reliable as they say...

The pilots watch silently as the damaged freighter is approached by the miracle ship, as comes alongside and remains docked to the vessel for seemingly endless hours. There are no radio transmissions safe for automated signals, and no suspicious movement by the hospital vessel's entourage. Only the silence strains the nerves of the seeker's crew. Since the hospital vessel docked, not even the freighter answers any hails. 

...


"Locking on"

The countdown begins as the miracle ship breaks away, detaching the airlock bridges and umbilical between the ships. Rising energy readings indicate the spooling up of its jump drive. Aboard the Seeker's Raptor, the beacon is ready to go. 
"Three, two, one..."
With a dry thud, the minuscule transmitter is launched and the crew watches as it vanishes without a trace. Carried forward by its launch velocity, none of the miraculous rescue vessels should be able to detect it passing through their formation. Staring into the dark, the seekers hold their breath, watching the miraculous vessels turn away. As expected, the hospital ship shows no sign of response, nothing indicating the beacon was noticed. 
A bright flash of light envelopes the vessel, space warps around it and with the characteristic flare, it is gone. The jump occurs in the blink of an eye, faster than any human could perceive. But for the briefest moment, the mere tiniest fraction of a second, the hospital ship has already gone, yet the flash of the jump-point remains, allowing a single transmission signal to come through. It's barely enough to register on the instruments but just enough to convey coordinates. 

Within the span of seconds, every last vessel jumps away. Even, to the Seeker's great surprise, the damaged bulk freighter. The pilot turns breathless to their ECO. 
"Did we get it?"
"I think so" The pilot is shaking "But it's way too far." 

The seekers are perplexed, seeing all vessels gone in a jump the Bulk Freighter should have been unable to make. They gather their senses not a moment too soon. Mere minutes after the hospital vessel has gone, the DRADIS system sounds a hostile alarm. 
The Seeker's Raptor turns rapidly, three raiders at their heel, and with their first jump, the long chase home begins. 

(full sized Image)


The air is heavy in the debriefing room, where the ECO, the pilots, and Raven's officers meet. On the map table, the coordinates of the last transmission are displayed. The miracle hospital ship jumped far, too far for its supposed capabilities, and right into Cylon controlled space. What the seeker suspected was confirmed by the specialists aboard the Raven. They stare at it for a long time, their heads held low. 
"We allowed them to be taken", says the pilot, breaking the unbearable silence. 
"You did what was necessary." The specialist stands across from them, moving the pieces of Raven's fleet into position. The destination of the abduction is just one jump away.
"There could have been a thousand people on that ship. And we let them be taken by the Cylon."
The pilot is shaking still. 
"It was the only way. Now we know where they are taking them. I've spoken to the Admiral. One last rescue operation has been authorized." 

Gunstar Arete - CF 2

At 0700 hours of that fateful day, Gunstar Arete received the transmission, a panicked call from forces nearby Aerilon, relaying what they knew of Baltar's betrayal. There were no instructions, no orders, no plan. The commander made the call on her own to take all networked systems offline. A life growing up with veterans of the Cylon War had taught her the procedure. Decades of paranoia now were survival instincts.
The transmission was shortly followed by explosions and thunder, squadrons of Cylon raiders, the swarming vanguard of the main assault. Nuclear detonations blossomed like young stars where they were shot down in the open void. The flak-fields held the enemy back for precisely three minutes and thirty-eight seconds. Just long enough for the jump-drive to spool up. In a flash of light, the Arete was away, narrowly escaping certain destruction.

Auxesia Heavy Escort - CF 3

The Auxesia awaited her end in an abandoned quarry of Troy, laid to rest on the old mining world for her decommissioning. At the time of the attack, the heavy escort should have been little more than a metal husk for salvage, had not claims on the ship by Leonese bureaucracy delayed the salvage process by years on end. This fluke of fate left the vessel barely touched and gathering dust when word came from Virgon of impending doom.

One thousand and seventy-five cutters and salvagers were working near the site, when news of the first attacks came. Officers and troops of the nearest post numbered two-hundred and sixty when they were flown in. As Pallas burned and the Cylon forces set their sights on Nagala's defiant fleet, the old escort Auxesia was made ready for flight in less than three hours. With reactors running on scarce vestiges of Tylium and a crew with close to no-one serving in the fleet, the vessel got scarcely of the ground and jumped, minutes before Troy fell.

//
... incoming jump detected
... unscheduled arrival
... marking two DRADIS contacts
... receiving signal
... verifying colonial transponder codes
//
***Attention all stations***
Colonial reinforcements inbound
//
...hailing
+ Gunstar Arete GSR-044-A
+ Colonial Heavy Escort Auxesia CE-332

The Cylon attack has left the Colonial Fleet beaten and bloodied, overwhelmed and scattered – but not yet broken.
The Raven engaged the foe over Aerilon in a defiant battle, buying time for a surviving fleet. Dozens of ships under her protection, and so many others, were left stranded on the fringes of the burning system. But hope has not left them, nor the burning desire for revenge.

Today is a rare day reprieve from the horror for the survivors. From the Ember Nebula emerged warriors of the Twelve Tribes, another remnant of the Colonial Fleet. For the first time in a long time, the last fighting strength of humanity has reinforcements on its side.

Auxesia Heavy Escort - CF 4

The Auxesia emerged from her jump in stunned silence, sent by an error far off the calculated target coordinates. Creaking under pressure, multiple compartments gutted and crewed only by the refugees of a salvage yard, the vessel drifted in deep space. But it was alive. Deep within its core, the reactor coughed and strained, but the engines were burning, life support running and the bulkheads soon stopped venting atmosphere. Unlike most inhabitants of Troy, the Auxesia had made it out alive.
Among the survivors, there was no hint of relief, not even recognition of the horror of these events. To most, the return of the Cylon had still not become part of reality.
In the run-down CIC argued foremen, fleet officers, and soldiers of the garrison. The ship would need someone in command, a direction, and some hope for survival. There was one thing all engineers and officers could agree on: At the current rate, the vessel would be dead in space within sixteen hours. And the drives would not survive another jump. This left few options for them to go. Turning painfully slow, the vessel set course for a depot in the outer belt. With dying sublight engines, it would be a risky journey of six hours.

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