Despite being part of a growing fleet, the Helios seemed to those on board as a universe unto themselves. One small shining solar sun in the dim turbulent red skies. The only light in the
dark. Around them, distant stars and planets shimmered, slow and timely, gleaming with what appeared to be a power so strong and in tune with one another, that it made them
seemingly invincible. That invincibility would last but for a short time.
Eyes the color of garnets, or blood depending on one’s outlook, encased in a metallic, emotionless hatred that watched through the wavering superheated air. The Silent Beast, known
to mankind as Cylons. Wrought from hell itself it seemed, it had arisen from a distant unknown place. And it brought with it, Armageddon, full of fire and smoke and sulphur and
brimstone. Armageddon in the truest sense of the word.
Around them, cities were burning. Colonies and their inhabitants destroyed. People were dying in the raging destruction that was ‘the flames of disaster’. The worlds and a peaceful
existence as they had known it, were perishing. Their worlds.....
Now it was a stalemate. Fatigue, injury, being outnumbered were not options to the crew, but it seemed the Cylons met them equally at every turn, Cylon power for Human speed, and
Cylon speed for Human power. Colonial vessels drifted, burning and crumbling amidst Cylon Base Ships, ablaze and, for the moment, silent. To the crew, it seemed the ultimate example
of Hell. A hell that had consumed the once flourishing colonies, but the vastness of space as well. The Cylons were watching them. Calm and hating across the distance. Watching their
every move.
And when, one by one, the Colonies slowly dimmed and were consumed with thick clouds of smoke and doom, sinking like bright pebbles into the depths of a fiery molten sea, it seemed
as if the beast almost smiled. The crew could only watch as the dulled worlds began to vanish from view. Their eyes able to pick out the instant each one disappeared into the darkness
of endless space. Even at the long distance that separated them.
Suddenly, even as the ships systems began to shut down, heavily damaged in the massive attack that they had just endured, the crew found a renewed sense of duty and of honor.
That feeling began to echo throughout the rooms and corridors of the mighty vessel. They began to find a new hope. A knowledge that the flame would not destroy them. The Cylons
would not exterminate the humans. They knew that although injured, crippled and scrambling for resources, they would prevail over their enemies. They would rise again and defeat the
beast through whatever means necessary. They would reclaim their existence, their humanity. They would rise again. But for now, their power was exhausted.
Armed with a renewed sense of hope, and an overwhelming desire for survival, the crew again turned to face their enemy. Engines and weapon systems roared to life. As the ship
leveled off and held her course, it was as if from the grasp of certain death from the hands of hell itself, drawn a short breath and lifted her eyes to meet the beast head on. To eliminate
the scorn and the fury of the monster that was seeking to take from her crew everything that they held dear. It was as if the ship itself smiled. Smiled with the knowledge that the hatred
and despise would not destroy them. Nor would the beast known as the Cylons destroy them. For the crew of the Gunstar Helios would now fight its enemy with the tenacity of pure
steel, and a spirit that was forged in fire itself.
dark. Around them, distant stars and planets shimmered, slow and timely, gleaming with what appeared to be a power so strong and in tune with one another, that it made them
seemingly invincible. That invincibility would last but for a short time.
Eyes the color of garnets, or blood depending on one’s outlook, encased in a metallic, emotionless hatred that watched through the wavering superheated air. The Silent Beast, known
to mankind as Cylons. Wrought from hell itself it seemed, it had arisen from a distant unknown place. And it brought with it, Armageddon, full of fire and smoke and sulphur and
brimstone. Armageddon in the truest sense of the word.
Around them, cities were burning. Colonies and their inhabitants destroyed. People were dying in the raging destruction that was ‘the flames of disaster’. The worlds and a peaceful
existence as they had known it, were perishing. Their worlds.....
Now it was a stalemate. Fatigue, injury, being outnumbered were not options to the crew, but it seemed the Cylons met them equally at every turn, Cylon power for Human speed, and
Cylon speed for Human power. Colonial vessels drifted, burning and crumbling amidst Cylon Base Ships, ablaze and, for the moment, silent. To the crew, it seemed the ultimate example
of Hell. A hell that had consumed the once flourishing colonies, but the vastness of space as well. The Cylons were watching them. Calm and hating across the distance. Watching their
every move.
And when, one by one, the Colonies slowly dimmed and were consumed with thick clouds of smoke and doom, sinking like bright pebbles into the depths of a fiery molten sea, it seemed
as if the beast almost smiled. The crew could only watch as the dulled worlds began to vanish from view. Their eyes able to pick out the instant each one disappeared into the darkness
of endless space. Even at the long distance that separated them.
Suddenly, even as the ships systems began to shut down, heavily damaged in the massive attack that they had just endured, the crew found a renewed sense of duty and of honor.
That feeling began to echo throughout the rooms and corridors of the mighty vessel. They began to find a new hope. A knowledge that the flame would not destroy them. The Cylons
would not exterminate the humans. They knew that although injured, crippled and scrambling for resources, they would prevail over their enemies. They would rise again and defeat the
beast through whatever means necessary. They would reclaim their existence, their humanity. They would rise again. But for now, their power was exhausted.
Armed with a renewed sense of hope, and an overwhelming desire for survival, the crew again turned to face their enemy. Engines and weapon systems roared to life. As the ship
leveled off and held her course, it was as if from the grasp of certain death from the hands of hell itself, drawn a short breath and lifted her eyes to meet the beast head on. To eliminate
the scorn and the fury of the monster that was seeking to take from her crew everything that they held dear. It was as if the ship itself smiled. Smiled with the knowledge that the hatred
and despise would not destroy them. Nor would the beast known as the Cylons destroy them. For the crew of the Gunstar Helios would now fight its enemy with the tenacity of pure
steel, and a spirit that was forged in fire itself.
| MAJOR SHANE HARMS COMMANDING OFFICER |
| * CURRENT CDF THREAT LEVEL* |
