Essays on Astro-Dolphins
Battlestar Galactica Fan Fiction
I write more fanfic than I usually admit to. When I do write fanfic, it’s usually a property that’s been out of production for twenty, thirty, forty, a hundred years. If you’ve seen all of Galactica, its sequel and prequel, you know Adama’s father was a man of letters, not military. The colonies of Cobol are closely based on Greek mythology, and the Greeks considered poetry a spiritual matter. Some people, like Orpheus, could even use poetry as a superpower.
Most people sound like a Cylon on the wireless. Dee sounds like Dee. Her lyric voice broke through all transmissions on the fleet-wide command channel.
“Please hold for a priority transmission from Galactica Actual.”
The next voice was considerably deeper.
“This is Bill Adama, Galactica actual. I’m communicating with you today on fleet-wide, ship-to-ship wireless about a matter of top cultural importance.
This morning, a copy of the Caprican Register was left on my desk. It included an article written by one D’annna Biers of the Fleet News Service.
As you know, President Roslin approved a program to train young people to take on vital jobs in the fleet as they grow and mature. Since these are jobs crucial to our survival as a species, President Roslin put these programs under the auspices of Galactica.
There are less than fifty thousand human souls left alive in the universe. Most of them are listening to my voice. Of that fifty thousand, less than one thousand three hundred of all human beings are under twenty years old.
In addition to military paths like pilot, engineer, and marine, the youth training program includes tracks for agriculture, healthcare, law, music, religion, logic, music, and writing. Of all the programs operating under the auspices of Galactia, the youth training program might be the most important. Three hundred and seven young people are enlisted in different Youth Training programs. If humanity survives, they are our future.
Sixteen young people signed up for the Colonial Youth Writing program, and another nine are waiting until they turn thirteen to join. Last week, their first essays as program members were published in the Gemenon Herald, which was distributed to the fleet.
As one of the last professional human writers, D'Anna Biers took it upon herself to write detailed criticisms of each essay, claiming her goal was to improve the work of our young writers.
In particular, she wrote four hundred thirty words tearing apart the lyric essay by sixteen-year-old Alicia Pollux describing the behavior of astro-dolphins. The Lyric Essay was three hundred and seven words.
As you may know, Astro-dolphins are the only living creatures in the universe besides humans and Cylons capable of faster-than-light travel. Humans gained this ability by observing dolphins, and Cylons learned it by watching us.
My father was a lawyer. Not wanting a life tied to a single place, I took to space when I was sixteen and have been a sailor my entire life. For sailors, the appearance of an Astro-dolphin is a sign that their voyage has the blessing of the Gods. So Say We All.
Many people have heard that the Astro-dolphin has no discernable brain. Their body has almost no discernable organs, absorbing light energy and space dust to survive. There are some theories that their entire body is a brain, and they are infinitely more intelligent than us. On days like today, I’m inclined to believe that.
Ms. Biers described Alicia’s essay as “sickeningly saccharine,” “too emotional to be of any possible use,” and “romanticizing a creature that doesn’t know she exists.”
Alicia lost her entire family in the destruction of Gemenon. Her father, a lawyer like my father, pushed Alicia onboard, the only vessel able to effect a take-off from that part of Gemenon as the bombing continued. He gave his life for her. She is utterly alone in the universe. What remains of Gemenon is uninhabitable.
As a young pilot, I flew long recon in the old model P-25 Viper. The outer reaches of the Caprican system were known for regular visitation by astro-dolphins. Sometimes, I would travel the blackness of space alone for twelve-hour shifts, and an Astro-dolphin would somehow find me and jump right beside my vessel. Their bodies have a bright blue glow when they make FTL jumps. It can be startling when one suddenly manifests on your starboard bow.
Astro-dolphins have no discernable face, but when one would jump beside my viper, they positioned themselves where I could see them through the front viewport. Even without eyes, I could tell the dolphin could see me. It’s aware of my existence.
Astro-dolphins emit radio transmissions on a fairly broad band at seemingly irregular frequencies. When one is within one or two light years, you can sometimes use your ship’s scanner to pick up their transmission even when you can't see them. It sounds like a song. Like the song Virgon mourners make, keening for their dead. Ms. Biers may think dolphins don’t possess intelligence, but Alicia and I know better.
There are less than fifty thousand human souls left in the universe. Alicia Pollux is not yet seventeen, but she knows that mankind's survival depends on people like her willing to learn certain vital skills. She’s chosen to learn poetry, what my father called “the greatest gift of the Gods.”
What separates us from the Cylons is that we have an actual physical need for art. Without it, we grow sick and weak and are no longer ourselves. Without it, we are no longer human.
It’s been many years since I’ve seen the blue-green glow of a dolphin jumping beside my vessel. Maybe they’re not interested in the size of the vessel I sail these days. I’ve posted a copy of Alicia’s Lyric Essay on the door of my locker. It reminds me of the magic I feel when I know the dolphins are near. It’s an invitation for them to visit an old friend.
As for D’annna Biers, I don’t know who tried to crush your dreams when you were sixteen, but I’m sorry it happened. I don’t believe you can beat greatness into young people, so cut the kid some slack. I liked what she wrote. There are a few vital skills that humanity needs to survive. Poetry is one of them. She is our future.
Galactica Actual, Adama Out.”