Still somewhat in the creative doldrums, so here's BSE:IV in all its glory.
Anyone irreverent enough can read the previous parts here:
James T. Adama paced impatiently as he waited for news of his son. Suddenly, the radio screamed to life. On it, David Adama was screaming, too, like a little bitch.
"Dad? Dad? You there dad? Hello? Does this thing even fucking work?"
"David, what's going on?" Adama asked his son over the wireless. "Are you getting a good visual?"
"Yes, dad," came the reply.
Adama rolled his eyes. Will no one call him Admiral? He earned it, after all. Fuck, he was the only surviving command officer in the entire universe as far as he knew. That's worth a promotion, right?
"Is it what we thought it was?"
"I think so. It's very coherent, lots of continuity."
Adama turned to his XO, Spock. "What do you think, Saul?"
"I'm not sure. We should contact Gaeta and have Baltar transferred over here to run some diagnostics."
"Make it so."
Adama was about to hang up his transmitter when the squelch broke.
"Oh, shit," came his son's voice.
"What is it, David?"
Silence. Spock and Adama exchanged concerned glances, then Adama keyed the mike again. "David? Come in. What is it?"
The only response was more silence.
"This is He-Boomer in the slot, trying to sound all military 'n shit. Ready to launch." He-Boomer flexed his hands as he placed them on the HOTAS. He'd been grounded far too long. For him, it was about fucking time. He knew why he'd been grounded, too, because despite all that bullshit about this new Galactica, er, Enterprise being all politically correct, he was the only black pilot they had, and these white fucks running the show didn't want He-Boomer to whoop up on some pale ass. Fuck 'em.
"This is Kelly. You're a go."
"Hey, Kelly, can we do that go-no-go shit they sometimes do to sound cool 'n shit?"
"No, you fucking idiot."
"Why you gotta be all racist 'n shit?"
He-Boomer felt the jolt of the catapult as his Viper shot down the launch tube. There he was, flying into the deep unknowns of space in order to save Adama's stupid-ass kid. He-Boomer checked his perimeter and spotted his wingmen joining up with him. StarHeBuck, Hot Dog, and Jolly were forming up on schedule.
"Everyone good 'n shit?"
Three affirmatives echoed in his earpiece, and He-Boomer flexed his hands again.
"Then let's go find the old man's punk-ass kid 'n shit."
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