Battlestar Avalon

WHO: Lt Tra Mitchel and Lt Jg Milena Wallace
WHERE: Sickbay, Battlestar Avalon
WHEN: Y02 04 Dec


Tra opened his eyes and looked around for a moment, almost unsure where he was. As he slid off the bed onto the cold metal deck he remembered that he had been transferred to the Avalon from the hospital on Tauron the day before. Looking around for a nurse or an orderly that would make him get back into bed he walked across the room and opened the wall locker that contained his uniform. Stripping off the loose fitting pajamas that he had been given, Tra started to get dressed, still feeling the dull pain from the crash in his stiff body. Stopping with his arm halfway into the sleeve he knew someone was there. Before he could turn she spoke

WHO: Milena Wallace and open
WHERE: Battlestar Avalon
WHEN: Y2002 Dec 3


Mila sat alone in the cramped Intel office on the Battlestar Avaon. It had been several weeks sense she had reported in and assumed her duties as an Intel officer. She had settled into her routine on board but two things seemed to haunt her, even as she looked over the latest Intel about what had happened on Tauron. The first was the presence of Tra Mitchel. She had thought she was over him. The second was the death of Darcy Selwyn, her first friend on the ship.

"Hay Mila, you've put in the hours. Why don't you get some rest. Believe me, this will all be here when you get back." Captain Franks said as he looked over her reports.

"OK sir, but I just want to finish going over these reports from.." She said, not allowed to finish.

"You're one of my best annalists lieutenant, but you're going to be no good to me if you burn out. Now go and get some rest. That's an order." Captain Franks said

"Yes sir" Mila said as she walked out the hatch into the corridor.

WHO: Tra Mitchel and Mila Wallace
WHERE: Pilots ready-room, Battlestar Avalon's starboard hangar pod
WHEN: Six hours after Never Interrupt A Call


The five pilots that made up the alert Vipers sat in the ready-room of the Avalon's starboard hangar pod. Achillies had spent the past three hours in his jock smock and flight harness, doing nothing but drinking coffee and watching vids. Finishing up his coffee, Achillies stood up and tossed his used Styrofoam cup into the waste basket.

"You think we'll be launching Lieutenant?" A fresh faced young Lt. Jg said.

Looking over at him with a bored expression, Achillies tried to remember his name. The Avalon had been getting new pilots and they all seemed to want to report in early. Achillies dropped back into the large comfortable, but hopelessly worn chair and lit a cigarette.

"I don't think so Pirate. We're in port, and were not at war with anyone." Achillies said to the young fresh faced pilot.

"Yes sir. I guess I should have thought of that" Pirate said, embarrassed.

"Don't sweat it Pirate, and you can call me Achillies. That goes for the rest of you too. We're pilots and we address each other by call-signs." Achillies said.

"Yes sir, Achillies" Pirate said.

"Hay Pirate, I'm going to the head. When Intel sends their rep tell him I'll be right back, OK?" Achillies said as he stood and walked to the hatch and walked out.

"No problem, Achillies" Pirate said as he filled up his coffee cup

Mila walked out of her quarters into the Spartan passageway. She had been on the Avalon for a few days, and like Lieutenant Selwyn had assured her she was starting to figure her way around. Moving passed a couple of pilots she overheard something about one of the viper jocks coming back aboard covered from head to toe in mud after getting in a bar fight, and then being chewed out by a squadron commander. Shaking her head she had to laugh for a moment. She knew from her time with Tra that pilots were crazy, but this one sounded like he wanted to piss off everyone in the fleet from top to bottom.

"Pilots" She said to herself as she turned the corner, heading for the Intel section.

As Mila rounded the corner she was stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes flew open wide as she saw Tra Mitchel walking out of his quarters . Her hand flew up to her mouth, stifling a small cry as she watched her Ex-fiancee walk quickly down the corridor and out of sight. Her heart raced as emotions and memories bombarded her mind.

"Oh my gods" She whispered to herself as she struggled to regain her composer.

Mila raced to her work station and sat down. The room was empty except for her and a civilian working the kinks out on new station that had been installed the week before. Watching him closely, Mila pulled one of the pills she kept hidden in her pocket. Crushing the pain killer between her teeth she waited for the rush to flow over her, allowing her to think clearly.

"What the frak am I going to do" She said to herself as her heartbeat started to slow to normal

WHO: Milena Wallace
WHERE: Battlestar Avalon, Hanger Deck
WHEN: Afternoon

Mila waited as the Raptor slowly opened it's door. Once open, the first thing she noticed was the smell of the flight-bay. Fuel, sweat and grease all seemed to mix together giving the Battlestar a feeling of activity, even if it was empty. She walked down the ramp and looked around. The place was almost deserted. The few people present were working on different types of equipment and spacecraft. She guessed this was to be expected. Most of Avalon's crew would still be on leave she thought as she walked onto the deck.

"You gotta be frakkin kiddin me. I thought there was a height requirement to serve on Battlestars" A familiar voice shouted from behind her.

"Fish!" She shouted as she turned with a smile.

WHO: Darcy Selwyn
WHERE: Battlestar Avalon, Hanger Deck
WHEN: Evening after "Leaving Caprica"

The hanger deck was normally the busiest place on a Battlestar but thanks to port leave, it was scarcely populated. All the birds, raptor and viper alike were tied down to the deck in a metaphorical sense. The Avalon wasn’t moving but to cut down expenditure in replacement parts and maintenance crew, it was standard requirement for all birds to be safely secured on deck before deckhands could sleep. A hard job but had to be done.

Darcy stood on the above walkway watching the comings and goings on her deck, well what was temporary her deck. With Burk and Randall due back any day, she had to make sure this ship was ready for strict inspection. The skeleton crew she had knew this and was working around the clock to achieve it. It was something she would note in her report to Burk. DRADIS upgrades were apparently running along smoothly so she could afford a few moments like this to observe the deck. She missed it.

It had been several months since she had piloted any form of craft since being giving the duty of tactical officer of Avalon. Darcy was led to believe that Burk specifically requested her for the position but she didn’t put much stock in that assumption. He was a hard man but fair.

She was brought back to the present with some clanging coming from the deck. The one thing the deck was all the time and that was an echo chamber. Darcy stood back up straight and straightened her tunic, starting to move off to resume her duties as caretaker commander during port leave. It was slowly but surely coming to an end. All she had to do was see out the remaining time and ensure the upgrades and repairs were done right.

1400 hrs Raptor. 8247 en rout to Battlestar Avalon

The Raptor shuttered a bit as it left the atmosphere of Caprica. As it moved towards the Battlestar Avalon, Mila sat nervously in the rear seat. She hadn't been in a military ship since the crash that had killed one instructor, three classmates and nearly her as well. Leaning back in her seat she closed her eyes and let her mind drift.

Two years ago. Wallace estate, Caprica.

The fire cast a warm glow in the darkened room as Mila entered her father's study. Crossing the room she approached her father's desk feeling more like a school girl than a woman about to become a colonial officer. Her father sat in the dark watching her as she stopped in front of his desk. The glow of his cigar dimly illuminated his face, giving it an almost sinister look.

"Is there something I can help you with?" he asked, already knowing what she came for.

"You know what I need father. He was trying to protect me. That's why..." She said, but was cut off by her father holding up his hand to silence her.

"Ah, yes. Your young pilot. Tra Mitchel, wasn't it? He is in a bit of trouble, isn't he." He said mockingly "Helena Cain seems to want this young man drummed out of the service. Even if he dose manage to stay in, he'll never fly again. She'll see to that."

"You can help him, Gods dammit. You practically made her an Admiral by yourself." Mila demanded.

"I'll not have you speak to me like some, petulant child. I know very well what I can or can not do, and I know that I have little reason to help this man. Your mother and I never approved of your relationship with him. He isn't one of us." John Wallace said, barely keeping his anger in check.

"You can't let her take his wings Father. Please, it would kill him." Mila pleaded, tears starting to sting her eyes