Chapter II: "The Lady In Red"

Chapter 2: "The Lady in Red"

15 Days Before the Fall of the Colonies

 Pherin sighed as she fought with the last button on her dull gray dress uniform. The small, brass button was putting up one hell of a fight against the equally determined girl.
  "Come on," she muttered and bit her lip. "You...little...motherfrakker!"
  Finally able to clasp the last, stubborn button Pherin looked herself over in the mirror, doing a last minute check for the nights festivities. The drab gray dress uniform clung to her short, petite torso without a wrinkle in sight, her dress pants following suit without so much as a deviation from sheer perfection as they hung around her fit, muscular legs and her dress boots, which she had spent nearly two whole hours shining, also looked their best. Pherin then took another opportunity to inspect herself. Her large, shining green eyes and dark hair that she had, painstakingly,  straightened and combed to perfection. Standing up straight, squaring her shoulders, she clicked her heels together and raised her right hand to salute the mirror, holding that pose for a moment.
  Tonight hers, and her hundred (or so) classmates, months of boot camp, basic training, weapons training, basic flight, simulations and hard work would be rewarded. Tonight she, and the others, would graduate from the Academy and in to the Colonial Fleet. To a degree she couldn't be happier. All her life, the eighteen and some odd months of it, she had wanted nothing more than to be a pilot in the Fleet. Stories of William Adama and his many exploits during the Cylon War had filled her otherwise mundane childhood with notions of grandeur,  courage and valor. Now, just a few months after her eighteenth birthday, she was ready to follow in the footsteps of the great Viper jocks and make a name for herself in the Colonial Fleet.
 Turning off the light in the bathroom Pherin walked through her sparsely decorated,  clean apartment and to the large picture window on the northern wall. Below her nineteenth story window, in the darkness of the evening, the street lights, neon signs and luminescent buildings of Caprica City lit up the night sky with its amber hue. Below the lights of the multiple structures the headlights of automobiles created a stream of light, snaking between the buildings and monoliths. Looking up in to the night sky, which Pherin was fortunate enough to find an apartment with such a view, beyond the passing airships and skyscrapers, to the twinkling stars and the inky, black beyond. Smiling she drew the blinds across the window and turned to back towards the living room. She knew that one day, one day real soon, she would be among those stars and closer to them than she ever could have dreamed.
  "Miss Nevarro?" a mechanical voice chirped through the intercom by the door. "Your cab has arrived."
  Pherin sighed and grabbed her wallet and keys off of the table. It was finally time to get her wings...
                                     * *                                              *  *                                  * *
  3 Hours Later
  "Isaiah Lemond," a voice thundered through the pa system. This was followed right after by the soothing, almost water sounding applause of the assembly in the grand stands.
  Bright lights.
  Pherin squinted against the harsh stage lighting as she and her fellow graduates, all dressed in the same boring dress uniforms, stood in formation. After hearing a long, aspiring speech, that was intended to both commend and encourage the graduates, though the intention was soon lost in translation, from Admiral Negala the graduates all had their names announced over the pa system and personally recieved their junior pilot wings from Vice Admiral Cormac and Rear Admiral Cain.
  "Galen MacNerra," another name echoed through the stadium. The audience applauded.
  Out of the corner of her eye, as she dared not to break her stance, Pherin could see the Vice Admiral and Rear Admiral stopped in front of the graduate to her immediate left. She was next.
  "Pherin Nevarro," her name echoed through the stadium. The audience applauded.
   Standing before Pherin now, the Vice Admiral and Rear Admiral smiled politely.
  "Congratulations," Admiral Cormac said as he pinned the junior pilot pendant to Pherins uniform. "And welcome to the Colonial Fleet."
  Standing with her heels pressed together, back straightened and hand raised in a salute Pherin held her breath, not daring to move. Shifting her gaze temporarily she found herself staring in to the eyes of the Rear Admiral Helena Cain, the commander of Battlestar Pegasus. The cold, razor sharp gaze caught the young ensign off guard and, embarrassed,  she looked forward again.
  "Moses Remmington," the announcers voice echoed through the stadium followed by a quick round of applause.
  As the admirals moved on to the next graduate Pherin lowered her salute and stood patiently in line as the ceremony continued.
  Nearly half an hour later the graduation ceremony had come to an end. Friends and family of the graduates swamped their respected graduate with congratulatory hugs, kisses, hand shakes, hearty pats on the back and words of praise as they, and many more, made their way toward the exits. Making her way, nearly wading, through the dense crowd Pherin made a face. Out of the corners of her eyes she watched joyous families, proud mothers and fathers and good friends celebrate with equally happy and proud graduates. For Pherin there would be no one. No proud mother or father, no smiling family and, what friends she did have, were fellow graduates. Such was the life of...
  "Pherin Nevarro?" a gruff voice called behind her and over the many conversations surrounding her.
  Turning Pherin found herself face to face with a stern faced military police officer.
  "Admiral Cain would like a word," the MP said flatly.
  Pherin raised an eyebrow. What in the worlds could Cain want with her? As she followed the MP through the crowd her heart began to pound with uncertainty. This could be good...or this could be really bad.
  Pherins internal debate and walking were both interrupted as a man stepped out of a door and in to the hallway. Her eyes grew large as she quickly recognized him.
  Though not much taller than the average man the rough, yet soft face, dark haired man was an important figure in the Colonial Fleet. All knowing eyes that were hidden behind a small pair of eye glasses focused on Pherin who, forgetting professional protocol and courtesy, stood frozen in her tracks and gaped.
  "William...Adama..." she marveled as the man strode toward her. Suddenly remembering that this man was a commander and she a lowly ensign Pherin clicked her heels together and saluted. "Commander Adama," she greeted. "My apologies, sir."
  Stopping before her the old man smiled. "As you were," he said in a calming voice. He chuckled and shook his head. "You must be Pherin. I've heard a lot about you."
  Feeling as though a star pyramid player had just acknowledged her existence, and not a military officer, Pherin bubbled inside like a teenage girl. This man had been her idol growing up, the reason she had enlisted in the Colonial Academy in the first place. To say that she had studied Adama's records closely would have been an understatement. Every available flight log, declassified document, flight record or transcript on William Adama had been poured through and dissected by Pherin who, whilst still in the Academy, tried to emulate the famed Commander who had risen through the ranks; from his early days as a Raptor driver to his command of the worlds famous Battlestar Galactica. Losing herself in her thoughts again Pherin shook her head.
  "Yes sir," she replied simply.
  The man removed his glasses, holding them up to a light as he continued. "You're a hell of a pilot. You remind me a lot of myself when I was your age."
  Pherin fought the urge to grin. Here was was her idol, comparing himself to her.
  "Heard you broke some of my records at the academy too," Adama said as he put his glasses back over his eyes.
  Frak. Pherin wilted a bit, fearing that she had, in some way, offended a man she revered as a god. Despite her best efforts she wasn't able to hide her disappointment from Adama.
  "Records are meant to be broken," the old man said with a reassuring smile.
  A hand tapped her shoulder, causing Pherin to flinch. Startled she turned and found herself face to face with the MP. In the course of running in to William Adama, Pherin had completely forgotten that Admiral Cain had requested the ensigns presence.
  "Admiral Cain will see you now," the MP said matter-of-factly.
  Adama smiled. "I guess that's my que," he said to Pherin. "It was nice meeting you, Pherin. Good luck."
   Pherin watched as the commander walked  away and out of sight, smiling. One day, she told herself, she might be half as good as that man. Turning Pherin walked ahead a few paces and turned in to the room the MP pointed out. As the door closed behind her Pherin found herself in a sparsely decorated room with a single window and no furniture.
  Standing before the window, bathed in the incoming light of the Caprica City skyline, stood Admiral Cain. Her back to Pherin, shoulders squared, hands clasped behind her back, uniform complete in its perfection and a demeanor that commanded respect. Looking over her shoulder, through her long brown hair the admiral turned and faced the young ensign who, in turn, saluted respectfully.
  "Pherin Anabella Nevarro," Cain said without so much as a denotation of emotion. The admiral looked the ensign over, from head to toe, as if sizing her up before continuing. "As I am due to return to the Pegasus shortly I will keep this meeting brief."
  Pherin stood at attention, not daring to make a move or sound while Cain addressed her.
  "First of all," the woman began. "Congratulations on a job well done are in order. I don't think anyone expected you to excel the way you did in the Academy. Your academic record is spotless. Etiquette? Spotless. Basic training and advanced training? Spotless. And let's not forget your flight, simulation records and combat scores. Phenomenal. After seeing your progression through the Academy, and being no less than pleased, I was rather surprised to see what your superiors assigned for you."
  Pherin was puzzled. She and the other graduates would not find out their designated ships for another three days...
  Cain shook her head. "A flight engineer aboard the research vessel Ferrigate." Cain looked in to Pherin's eyes. "Does this sound like a a job you are willing to perform?"
  Though heartbroken Pherin maintained her composure.  "Sir," she began. "The ensign will perform the duties asked of her without any and all hesitation, sir."
  Cain took a few steps towards the young ensign and smirked. "I see that they have trained you well," she said quietly. "But I can tell that you are a strong, independent and opinionated young woman. Permission to speak freely; I want you to tell me how you really feel."
  "I think," Pherin started to say but then hesitated. She tried again. "I think that being a flight engineer would be...a waste of my skill set and potential. I'm a pilot...sir. I belong in a bird."
  The Admiral stared at Pherin for a moment, without saying a word or changing her expression. After a moment a smile of satisfaction crossed her lips. "I couldn't agree more, Pherin," she said as she walked past the slightly frazzled ensign. Stepping out of the door as it opened from the outside Cain called back, "That's why you will be reporting to me on the Pegasus."
**                                      **                       **
  The Admirals words still echoing in her mind, an hour later, Pherin found herself st McGinty's; the local pub just a few blocks from her apartment. As there was no one to celebrate her graduation with, Pherin decided that a night of shots and a blazing hangover to be slept off seemed like a fitting celebration. After half a dozen shots of Ambrosia and a couple of girly named, alcoholic beverages her alcohol soaked, numbed mind was making it hard to see straight.
  Around her in the pub glasses and dishes clinked, cubits clattered across wooden tabletops, billiard balls clacked together and cards shuffled over the sounds of the television as a pyramid game rages beyond that. All the while an unaccounted number of conversations, ranging from idle chatter to sexual favors, and laughter jumbled together from every corner of the pub.
  Starting to feel dizzy Pherin placed her cheek in to the palm of her hand and leaned her elbow in to the counter top of the bar, closing her eyes to keep from becoming nausea. After a few moments she slowly laid her head on the counter, crossing her arms around her head.
  "Are you alive?" a woman's voice asked.
  Pherin opened her eyes. Sitting up and turning she found herself face to cleavage with a taller woman. Looking up she found herself gazing upon a golden blonde, shimmering blue eyed, thin figured, beautiful woman dressed in a form fitting, revealing red dress. The woman bit her ruby red, lipstick coated lip with perfect, pearly red teeth as she waited for a reply.
  Whether it was the over abundance of alcohol or the sweet, intoxicating pheromone if the woman's perfume, she wasn't sure which, but Pherin suddenly wanted nothing more than to take this woman home and have her say with her. Puzzling, she told herself, as she had never been with a woman before nor had she ever wished to be.
  "You..." Pherin slurred. "You...come to...my place...miss...?"
  The woman grinned, chuckled warmly and wrapped her arms around the dumbfounded ensigns neck. Leaning close she whispered in to Pherins ear, "You can call me Six."