Battlestar America
“Faith of the Gods”
by
Conley Presnell


Pro log

January 28, 1840
Sloop of War Vincennes
0735 hrs
Off the coast of Antarctica 



“Damn, where's the wind?” Lieutenant Charles Wilkes muttered to no one in particular, 
as he walked towards the bow of his ship. The Vincennes, an 18 gun sloop of war, was 
over 127ft long and weighed in at 700 tons. Now she sat here waiting for the slightest 
breeze off the coast of the most God forsaken place he had ever sailed. What made things 
worse was that an Erie fog had settled in.
As he walked the fog ridden decks, he quickly became aware on how deafly quiet 
everything was. The fog almost had a deafening effect on everything. He stopped and 
listened. He could barely hear a bell in the distance. Properly the brig Porpoise, he 
thought. Last reports had her off their starboard bow about 2 miles out. That was 4 hours 
ago when the wind decided to vanish and this cursed fog set in.
he heard his own ships bell answer. Four bells sounded muffled even to Wilkes. And it 
was just fifty feet behind him on the quarterdeck. As he passed numerous men doing their 
various duties, he noticed that they seem all in all a happy lot. Maybe it was the weather. 
It had been below freezing for the last 15 days and now the temperature seemed almost 
balmy, in comparison. 
As he reached a bow a lone figure materialized through the fog. He recognized the figure 
as Able Seaman Jenkins. A veteran of the Vincennes maiden voyage, Jenkins was a fine 
sailor with reddish brown hair and a pair of muttonchops any sailor would be proud to 
wear. He noticed that Jenkins was sounding, he watched as the sailor pulled up the line 
counting the knots. Each knot represented a fathom and a fathom equaled six feet more or 
less.
He continued to watch the seaman as he coiled the line. Noticing something was wrong 
he approached Jenkins.
Jenkins looked up and saw the Captain approaching. He stood at attention gave a crisp 
salute and said
“Morning Captain”
Wilkes nodded in response to the salute and asked You have a puzzled look on your face 
Jenkins whats wrong?”

Jenkins scratched his head and replied “ It's these soundings captain, I can't seem to get 
and accurate measurement.”
Wilkes gave him a puzzled look, surely Jenkins had enough experience to know how to 
sound. “just what do you mean you can't get and accurate measurement?” he asked
“I dunno sir. The first measurement I took we had over 50 fathoms of water between us 
and the ocean floor. As a precaution I took another and it read 25.. puzzled I just took it 
again and it read 30.”
Wilkes looked at the sailor and wondered if he had been drinking on duty. If was one 
thing Wilkes despised was a drunkard. But one glance at the man, he knew he was sober
“Take another one Jenkins” he ordered.
“Aye captain” Jenkins replied and picked up the coiled line. He watched as Jenkins 
divided the line and
dropped the end with the monkey fist into the water. As the line slowly descended into 
the depths he silently counted the knots as the passed. He stopped counting as the line 
stopped. Confirming it had hit bottom.
“looks like 27 to me” he said to Jenkins
“Aye captain thats what I think.” jerkins said as he started to pull up the line counting as 
he went. He just said 27 just as the monkey fist emerged from the water. He nodded at 
Jenkins who tossed the line back in, again counting the knots as the passed. He had just 
counted to 6 when the line stop.
“what in the name of god is....” he never finished the sentence. Suddenly the waters 
around them started bubbling and the Vincennes started rocking. He managed to grab 
hold of one of the life lines just as the water became rougher. He looked around and saw 
that his men were starting to panic.
“everyone secure themselves.” he yelled he had a good crew and knew them well. The air 
around them was warm, but if one fell into the water, they wouldn't survive long. 
Suddenly the waters calmed. He was about to let go of the lifeline when he heard jenkins 
shout “Captain look, somethings coming out of the water.
He looked over to where the sailor was pointing, sure enough about 100 yards off their 
starboard side a shape emerged from the ocean. As the fog thinned he was able to make 
out its shape.
“sweet mother of god” Jenkins replied as he crossed himself
“indeed seaman indeed” Wilkes said as he muttered a silent prayer of his on. “bosun, beat 
to quarters, all hands to arms.” he shouted as the shape continued to rise out of the ocean. 
He watched as the shape continued to rise almost 200 feet high now. He heard the drums 
as his ship prepared for the worst. Jenkins stood there transfixed he glanced over at 
Wilkes and asked “captain what is it?”
Wilkes watched as the object stopped rising its base just a few feet from the Vincennes. 
“I do believe that is what they call a pyramid.”


  
capter one

 
December 20, 2009 
1620 hrs. 
100 miles NNW of Pearl Harbor Hawaii 
Eight baller 3 
 
 
Captain Jason "Apollo" Michels hated flying, or at least he hated it when he wasn't at the 
controls. His stomach pitched and rolled with every bump the SH-60 Sea hawk made. He 
glanced around the interior of the sea hawk and was glad he wasn't the only one with a 
troubled stomach. Beside him, there were two others turning green due to the chopper’s 
erratic behavior. He was one of seven passengers and crew that were inbound to the USS 
John C Stennis, His home for the next six to eight months. He had just received orders to 
report to the USS John C. Stennis and become the new CO of the VFA-147 Argonauts. 
He was replacing the old CO because of some sort of scandal involving several enlisted 
personnel. 
It was ironic, or at least he thought so, that he would become the Argonauts’ newest CO. 
after all his first name was Jason, and now he was commanding them. Jason and the 
Argonauts. Somebody somewhere would come up with some sort of joke about looking 
for the golden fleece.  
The chopper rocking eased and the ride smooth out. He glanced at his watch and saw they 
had another hour of flight time left. "Time for a nap" he said to no one in particular. He 
closed his eyes and tried to take a catnap. If the Navy taught you anything, it was to sleep 
when you could. The swaying of the chopper put him in a trance like state neither asleep 
nor awake. He was aware of his surroundings, but his body was resting. That was the 
most important thing for his body to rest. His mind however, that was something 
completely differently. While he rested, his thoughts were mostly of his parents. Adam 
and Eva Michels. Both were well known in the archaeological circles before they were 
married. But the combination of the two together made them outright famous. They were 
known as the "Adam and Eve" of archeology. Together they blazed a trail of 
archaeological digs worldwide. Along with their five children Cain, Able, Seth, Ruth and 
have course himself Jason. People would ask them why they named him Jason instead of 
another biblical name. They would always reply, "He looked like an Jason. So we named 
him Jason" a smile etched across his lips. The childhood he had was amazing. As a small 
boy of five or six his father took him to the top of the great pyramid just before dawn one 
morning. They sat down as best they could and waited the sunrise. He told him about the 
ancient Egyptians, their beliefs and customs. He even taught him a few brief words of 
Sumerian. His father told him Sumerian was older than Egyptian and it was his mother's 
favorite ancient language. He taught him to say "Arammu Ummum" or as it translates a 
love mother. He remembers reciting the words over and over again till he knew he got it 
down. His father pointed out for him to look at the sun raising him still saying "Arammu 
Ummum" over and over again just as the sun rose to greet them. 
Then his next thought of his parents brought a sudden pang of sadness, One the world 
would remember. On September 11th, 2001, his parents caught a last minute flight on 
American Airlines Flight 11. They were on their way to visit him at his new duty station 
at NAS Lemoore which is situated in the middle of California's San Joaquin Valley. They 
never made it. Their plane was the first to hit the towers. Jason who happed to be on a 
training exercise at the time with the fist of the fleet VFA-25, spent the next six hours 
airborne constantly scanning the skies for any more missing airliners. Fortunately none 
struck the west coast. unfortunately three changed America for good. It was two days 
later when he finally checked his e-mail did he learn his parents were on flight 11. An e-
mail from his brother Seth wondering why he hadn’t contacted him about their parents. 
The chopper hit another pocket of turbulence. He quickly opens his eyes, something was 
wrong. Just as he sat upright the chopper shook again. This one much harder than the last. 
He glanced out the window and saw the skies hard darken very quickly and they were 
heading into a very vicious storm. Just as he was about to say something the co-pilot got 
up from the cockpit area and headed towards Jason. The hair on the back of Jason’s neck 
stood on end as the young pilot approached. He was wearing Mickey Mouse ears he lifted 
one side of the hearing protection so he hear the pilot.  
"Sir, I'm Lt White. My friends call me Wildcat.," the very female voice said. Jason hadn't 
paid much attention to the young pilot and he didn't realize the pilot was a she till she 
spoke. 
"Names Captain Michels Wildcat, but you can call me Apollo, So what’s up?" he asked 
as he extended his hand. She took it and leaned over and told him 
"Apollo, a major storm has popped up between us and the Stennis, it looks like we are 
heading back to pearl."  
Jason nodded he understood and told her thanks and turned he attention to the other 
passengers on board There were four others. All four were civilians. There was the 
female news reporter and her cameraman and Senator Justin Cummings and his top aide. 
He knew the senator from his many appearances on television. Always criticizing the 
military epically the Navy. It didn't help matters much that the senator was on the armed 
forces ways and means committee. 
Jason stood up and motioned for the senator to remove one side of his Mickey Mouse 
ears. He shouted over the noise of the chopper. "Sir, a major storm has diverted us back 
to pearl." Jason said to the thirty something senator 
It was what the senator said that through Him for a loop. He watched as the senator’s 
faces started to turn red."Just as I thought, the Navy did this on purpose." Senator 
Cummings bellowed" 
"Did what sir?" asked Jason. 
"What's your name Captain? Asked the Senator. 
"Sir My name is Captain Jason Michels, Squadron Captain for the VFA-147 Argonauts." 
The senators face got even redder when he heard Jason’s name. 
"great the navy send me on a flight to nowhere with its little media darling. Tell me 
something all and mighty Apollo are you involved with this diversion also. 
Jason looked perplex. How could the senator blame the Navy or himself for that matter 
for the weather? 
"Sir with all due respect, as a pilot I checked the weather reports before we left pearl. 
They called for clear skies and fair temps in our operating error. I don't see how the navy 
is at fault for this. As for being a media darling I admit I have been on the TV more than 
my fair share but it was during a very hard time. 
"Bull crap Captain, I know all about the second Korean war. I flew super hornets off the 
Nimitz. But back to the subject you navy types are always taking the fall for each other, I 
suppose you'll be telling me now that we're not going to make it to the Stennis today." 
Jason glanced over the senator’s shoulder and looked out the window. Outside he saw the 
other Sea hawk wishing he were on that one instead. 
"No sir looks like we won't make it to the Stennis today, sorry sir." 
"That’s OK Captain, I expected half of much from the navy." Senator Cummings said as 
he reverted his attention back to his aide. "Just as I told you Christi, the navy found a way 
for us not to make it to the Stennis, but wait till we get back, I'll have the SECNAV's ass 
in a sling, along with their golden boy’s here too. 
Jason shook his head and turned his attention at the other passengers the news reporter 
and her cameraman. Both of which looked a little green around the gills. Jason 
understood their pain as his stomach threaten to let loose that slider he had for lunch. 
(Authors note: Slider is a naval term for a hamburger. It has so much grease in it, it slides 
across the floor.) 
As he approached the two, the cameraman looked up and saw that Jason was 
approaching. He elbowed the reporter and pointed the Captain out. 
He sat down beside her and motioned for her to lift her Mickey Mouse ears and he 
shouted over the noise of the aircraft. 
"I’m sorry to disturb you ma’am, but I thought I would let you know the Choppers has 
been ordered back to pearl. This storm really caught us by surprise and it safer for us to 
return to pearl than try and make it to the Stennis.’ 
The female reporter shook her head she understood and promptly lowered her head back 
into her lap. Jason’s stomach quickly reminded him that it wasn’t feeling good either and 
he promptly returned to his seat. 
even over the noise of the chopper and his Mickey mouse ears, he could still hear senator 
Cummings bellowing about the navy. He glanced out the window again and saw that the 
other chopper had moved a little closer. The choppers movements had settled down a 
little bit, but his stomach didn’t. as he closed his eyes he wondered if there was a way for 
him to change choppers in mid flight.
 
 

1635hrs 
Eight baller 2 
Lt Captain Rachel "Batgirl" Harris looked at the other chopper and wondered if there was 
a way for her to change flights in mid air. She shook her head at the funny thought as the 
choppers turbulence worsened. 
She looked over the cabin area, which was now filled with the rancid smell of puke. She 
was glad she had a cast iron stomach or her puke would be on the choppers deck also. 
She looked at the culprits of the smell and felt no pity for them. They were two scared 
sailors who went AWOL while the ship was visiting pearl. Both were being escorted by 
two armed marines back to the Stennis. There they properly face courts martial if she 
knew the ships skipper. He was a hard ass that was for sure, but a fair one. She glanced 
again out at the other chopper. She knew her new CO was on that chopper along with 
several VIPs  
She hadn’t met her new CO yet, but she heard rumors it was Captain Michels. And if half 
of what they said about him was true, then she was in for a hell of a ride. She closed her 
eyes and tried to get a catnap, but the rancid order of the puke kept her awake. 
She looked outside and noticed the storm had passed somewhat and the turbulence had let 
up. She walked up to the cockpit and asked the pilot if there was a way to let some fresh 
air in. 
The pilot who had the nick "Doc" stencil on his flight helmet said that they were 
expecting more turbulence up ahead and that they couldn’t risk opening the side door. 
But the good news was that they were expecting to clear the storm area in about 10 
minutes and if she could hold out, then they would open the side door. She nodded OK 
and went back to her seat. By this time the smell wasn’t as bad and she looked over at the 
culprit again. Somehow for the entire stink the poor SOB has put them through, she felt 
sorry for him when they landed. For she knew for sure the guy had to clean up his mess. 
She glanced out the window and noticed that they had drifted a little closer to the other 
Sea hawk She wasn’t worried about it, even though they were less than thirty yards apart. 
The Eightballers had excellent pilots and she had threw down a few with doc while on 
shore leave before. So she wasn’t worried about him. It was the other pilot she knew little 
about. All she knew about "Flapjack" was his love of pancakes and that he was born in 
Iraq. It wasn’t the fact he was a Muslim, hell’s bells it wasn’t that. It was because he was 
so green. As green as a nugget could be, and still call himself a naval aviator. The Sea 
hawk lurched again and she heard the young seaman loose his lunch again. She glanced 
out the window again and what she saw made her tighten her safety belt even tighter. 
 
Lt. Jari "Flapjack" Ahmad was not a very religious man. But as of right now he was. He 
muttered another small prayer to Allah, his fifth in as many minutes, as he fought with 
the controls of the Sea hawk He never expected to have weather conditions like this. 
Stormy one second , sunny the next, now he was flying in hurricane like conditions as he 
struggled to keep the bird flying. 
The sheer power of this storm was unbelievable. A gust of wind hit the chopper on his 
starboard side bringing him closer than he wanted to Eight baller two. He eased back on 
the stick to bring more distance between the two aircraft. But not too much he thought 
any more and the craft might stall. 
He glanced over at his co-pilot wildcat. She was her normal straight ahead navy self. She 
spoke only when needed and then it was strictly navy. He had no idea where the name 
wildcat came from but he wished she would loosen up some. Maybe it was because he 
was born an Iraqi. Some Americans, hell a lot of Americans were aghast that he was in 
the US military and flew choppers at that. He could look into their eyes and wonder if he 
was going to fly his into the ship or worse yet a building. 
Of course he wouldn’t. be might have been born an Iraqi but he was 100 percent 
American now. He was just ten years old when his parents fled Iraq during Desert Storm. 
They surrendered to a CNN camera crew and pleaded for political asylum in the US. 
Seeing a good human interest story the network covered their story about seeking 
citizenship up to the day they received it a day he also will never forget, Sept 10, 2001 
the day he became an American and the day before he wished he was somewhere else.
A crackle over his radio diverted his attention
"eight baller one this is echo one. Over."
Flapjack was confused who in the hell was echo one. Wasn’t one way to find out
"echo one this is eight baller one who are you."
"Eight baller one this is echo one I am squawking proper IFF codes now."
Flapjack looked over at wildcat. She nodded as the proper codes were received.
"Proper ID flapjack , codes also say go to secure channel 42." she said in her proper 
military voice.
Flapjack nodded and watched as wildcat adjusted the radio dial.
"Go ahead echo one this is eight baller one we are secure."
"Eight baller one you and eight baller 2 are to descend to 75 feet and proceed on a course 
of 096, speed 60 knots. Do you copy?"
He glanced over at wildcat she shrugged at the strange course change. But the did have 
the proper codes.
"Say again echo one did you say descend to..... " he was cut off by echo one
"confirm eight baller one descend to 75 feet and proceed on a heading of 096. Speed 60 
knots do you confirm." 
"I confirm echo one descending to 75 feet and new heading of 096."
"Good eight baller one from now on maintain radio silence."
He glanced over at eight baller two they were about fifty feet apart he could see Doc now 
having the same conversation that he just had.. He watched as doc was a little more 
animated than he was in his conversation. Finally doc glance over at him and shrugged 
his shoulder. Flapjack nodded pointed downward and eased the Sea hawk 75 feet above 
the surface of the raging ocean wondering what in the name of Allah has the navy asked 
of them.
Captain Michels eyes open quickly as he felt the Sea hawk descend. This wasn’t right. He 
glanced over at senator Cummings who had finally stop ranting. He too knew something 
wasn’t right. He glanced over at the other Sea hawk and noticed it too was descending. 
Something was up. He quickly noticed that they had also changed course and was 
heading almost due east away from Pearl, but not towards the Stennis.
Just as he was about to get up and ask what was going on. Wildcat had returned and 
motion for him to lift his hearing protection.
"Sir we have been giving a new heading. As far as our destination that is unknown."
"If I may ask wildcat who gave the course change."
"Someone called echo one Captain. They had proper IFF Codes and we have also 
descended to 75 feet."
When Jason heard the altitude he glanced out the window and noticed the were skimming 
along the top of the roaring ocean just a mere seventy five feet."
"Why so low and is that course taking us east."
"Don’t know about the altitude Captain but the course is 096. So an easterly heading is 
about right."
Jason looked over at Senator Cummings who looked like he was about to blow a gasket. 
He didn’t want to talk to the senator. "Thanks for the info Wildcat. Do me a favor and tell 
the senator. Maybe he won’t lite into you like he did me."
Wildcat looked over at senator Cummings who’s face had gotten even redder. She then 
turned back at Captain Michels and said
"do I have to sir. I know he’s a Senator and all, but sir I really don’t think he wants to 
here this from me."
"Scared of the senator Wild cat?"
"No sir just covering my six. I feel since you’re the senior officer on board you should get 
the ass chewing not me."
"Gee thanks wildcat, you know you’ll owe me one."
Wildcat glanced over at Senator Cummings and turned back at Captain Michels. "Apollo 
next time we get liberty, I’ll buy all night."
"Deal, now go back up to the cockpit and watch how to go above and beyond the call of 
duty." Jason then stood up and headed towards senator Cummings wishing he on that 
other chopper.
Eight baller two
1650 hrs.
Lt. David "Doc" Watson glanced at his watch. They had been following this new course 
change for about fifteen minutes now. They were so damn close to the raging storm 
below, he could have sworn the choppers wheels brushed the tops of the swells. Still they 
held their course.
What ever was going on. Echo one had the correct codes. He glanced over at his co-pilot 
Ensign Fred "Opie" Taylor. Doc smiled thinking about Opie. The young red headed 
freckled face boy have giving the name to himself. Doc asked him once why the nick 
Opie, knowing all the ridicule he would receive. He just smiled a big grin and said in his 
deep southern accent. "I hail from King North Carolina, just a little south of Pilot 
Mountain or as they would say on the TV show Mount Pilot. So I figure I’ll beat them to 
the punch. Besides I like the show anyway"
"so Opie, what do you think of this course change.?"
"I dunno Doc but where ever were going ain’t on no map." Opie was looking at the radar 
switching between FLIR and normal mode. "The only thing I’m getting is eight baller 
one . But there is some good news. Looks like we have flown out of the storm" just as 
Opie finished, the chopper lurched again. He continued "or should I say we’re just about 
cleared the storm."
Doc laughed. That’s what he liked about Opie Taylor. He let thing roll off his back and 
didn’t let it get to him. "Just keep you eyes open Opie. There’s got to be something out 
here for us to land on."
"Will do Yankee, will do."
Doc laugh him and Opie cut each other often Doc was from upstate New York about as 
much of a Yankee as you could be. When he was growing up. He thought everyone from 
the south was a redneck country bumpkin. That was till he joined the navy. He glanced 
over at flapjacks bird. He wondered if the nugget was ready for this.


  
Eight baller two
1650 hrs.
Lt. David "Doc" Watson glanced at his watch. They had been following this new course 
change for about fifteen minutes now. They were so damn close to the raging storm 
below, he could have sworn the choppers wheels brushed the tops of the swells. Still they 
held their course.
What ever was going on. Echo one had the correct codes. He glanced over at his co-pilot 
Ensign Fred "Opie" Taylor. Doc smiled thinking about Opie. The young red headed 
freckled face boy have giving the name to himself. Doc asked him once why the nick 
Opie, knowing all the ridicule he would receive. He just smiled a big grin and said in his 
deep southern accent. "I hail from King North Carolina, just a little south of Pilot 
Mountain or as they would say on the TV show Mount Pilot. So I figure I’ll beat them to 
the punch. Besides I like the show anyway"
"so Opie, what do you think of this course change.?"
"I dunno Doc but where ever were going ain’t on no map." Opie was looking at the radar 
switching between FLIR and normal mode. "The only thing I’m getting is eight baller 
one . But there is some good news. Looks like we have flown out of the storm" just as 
Opie finished, the chopper lurched again. He continued "or should I say we’re just about 
cleared the storm."
Doc laughed. That’s what he liked about Opie Taylor. He let thing roll off his back and 
didn’t let it get to him. "Just keep you eyes open Opie. There’s got to be something out 
here for us to land on."
"Will do Yankee, will do."
Doc laugh. They would cut each other often, Doc being from upstate New York was 
about as much of a Yankee as you could be. When he was growing up. He thought 
everyone from the south was a redneck country bumpkin. That was till he joined the 
navy. He glanced over at flapjacks bird. He wondered if the nugget was ready for this.
As he struggled at the controls, he heard the unmistakable sound to the young sailor 
losing his lunch again. Damn how much did that boy have in his stomach. He was just a 
scrawny kid, but he must have lost it 5 or six times now. The smell in the chopper was 
becoming unbearable. He hope soon the turbulence would stop long enough so they could 
open the door. His wrinkled his nose as the new wave of stink reached him.
“Ain't that bad Yankee.” he heard Opie say. He glanced over at Opie and but couldn't 
help but crack a smile. The young man was sitting there, his head turning a nice shade of 
green. “Not bad, huh? Then why are you turning green?” he asked
“Ain't turning green, actually it smells like my Uncle James pig farm. Spent many a 
summer there, helping out sloping them hogs, butchering them too. Gotta love that smell, 
even when a hogs gall bladders busts, makes this stuff smell like daises”
“You didn't answer my question, why are you turning green?” he quipped

“it's your damn driving, your all over the place, what do you think you are New York 
city?”

“Ha Ha, Naw I'm pretending I'm your ass, you fly around like your a NASCAR driver.” 

Opie gave him the finger, and went back to work. His head buried in the radar screen. He 
glanced over at Flapjack's chopper. They were about 100 feet apart, he could see wildcat. 
Her head was down just like Opie, looking at the scope. Suddenly her head popped up.
“Contact, bearing 002, distance 12 miles, speed 4 knots!” opie said.

“copy that, looks like we found out landing site. What type of ship is it squawking?”

“hold on, getting IFF Now.” after a few seconds Opie came back “IFF reporting the ship's 
name as...No way..Ships name is America.”