A Galactican Moment of Perversity:  
 
Adama and Tigh stood grimly behind Officer Omega as they watched the display on the Command Centre's 
main view screen. The bridge crew gasped as the last of the Tyrannical Cylon Empire's mighty baseships 
disintegrated before their eyes. A mightly cheer erupted as the realization set in that the thousand yahren 
plus war was finally over.  
 
"Tigh, it's unbelievable! It's a dream we never dared to envision!" Adama cried, his expression turned to 
one of joy, grasping his Executive Officer's wrist and slapping him exuberantly on the back, "But how did 
you do it? How did you initiate a self destruct sequence that wiped out the entirety of the Cylon military 
forces?"  
 
Tigh smiled slyly and pulled a small metallic object from his sleeve.  
 
"I recharged the batteries for the Universal Remote, Sir!"  
 
The bridge crew gasped as Adama began to strangle his Executive Officer.  

"Commander, NO!" Tigh hollered in horror,  "You pressed 'rewind'!"

"Playing with toys, Adama?" a voice echoed from the speakers beside the main viewer.  
 
"Oh, frak! Way to go, Tigh," Adama muttered, smacking Tigh on the back of the head 
with the Universal Remote, "Now we've got to get rid of Baltar all over again!" Adama 
raised the remote for another blow as Tigh crouched and raised his elegant hands to 
protect his ruggedly handsome face.  
 
"Wait, Sir!" the Executive Officer cried placatingly, "Try fast forward!"

Adama paused . . .  
 
"Fast forward, I said!" Tigh yelled between his splayed fingers.

John caught a ride on the first available Ship of Light and slipped quietly onto the silent 
bridge of the Galactica. He slipped the remote from Adama's frozen fingers and pressed 
the 'factory default' button on the back. With faster than lightning speed, he pressed 
'pause' again. He then painted a mustache on Omega's upper lip with an indelible marker 
and 'tsk, tsking' in a long-suffering tone, stepped down to the gallery and placed the 
marker over Rigel's right ear, taking care not to muss her hair. Taking a last look around, 
he pressed 'play' and winked out of sight, taking the remote with him.  
 
"Tigh, it's unbelievable! It's a dream we never dared to envision!" Adama cried, his 
expression turned to one of joy, grasping his Executive Officer's wrist and slapping him 
exuberantly on the back, "But how did you do it? How did you initiate a self destruct 
sequence that wiped out the entirety of the Cylon military forces?"  
 
Tigh smiled slyly and . . .  and started patting down his tunic like a man infested with 
vermin.  
 
"Omega?" Adama demanded, shooting Tigh a confused scowl, "What in Hades is that 
thing on your upper lip?"

"Never mind that!" Athena interrupted, looking at Rigel.  "Why do you have the lyrics for 
"I'm not Leia, my name is Rigel" written above your ear?"

Suddenly, a shaft of light appeared and a sound like several orchestral choirs emanated 
from the illuminated opening in the space-time continuum. A hand, its arm enveloped in 
a crisp white sleeve reached out and, as the entire bridge crew leaned forward in rapt 
alertness, snatched the indelible marker from above Rigel's ear and scrawled the words to 
'What ever happened to my part?' on Athena's console. With a final stern waggle of a 
finger, the arm disappeared back into the bright rift, which winked out of sight.  
 
"You can stop it with the orchestral choir, already!" Tigh called out, ending the vain 
search of his tunic and realizing, with his sharply honed warrior's instincts, that he must 
have lost the remote in the sofa cushions when he was watching last night's Triad match 
on the monitor in his quarters.