Adama knew odd days came with the job, the days nothing seems to go right and all the work piles up and you just have to hold in the urge to scream, those were normal. As were the days when everytime you touched something it seemed to blow up or break down and the days when it seemed nothing could possibly go wrong, those were all part of being alive and living.
He was having hard time figuring out where today stood, though head scratching disbelief might come close.
Two hours ago, the Galactica had been buzzed…
By a Tea-cup
A Genuine Tea-cup, without tea according to the reports, roughly the size of Colonial One, which flashed overhead before vanishing. Much drink was being consumed by those who had actually seen the unknown vessel disappear and not one of them was talking about what exactly happened when it vanished.
The only odd thing had been this… well, book that had somehow gotten lodged in the guns of Starbucks Viper, promptly dropping onto Callys toes when she tried to remove it. He didn't need to know what Cally had thought about that, she had still been glaring at the book when he had arrived to retrieve it.
Not that book was perhaps the right word; it certainly appeared to be a data storage medium of some sort, perhaps analogous to a book but it was computerised. Perhaps E-book would be the right word.
The words on the back were interesting though, who writes 'Don't Panic!' on the back of a book… e-book, whatever.
Shrugging, he took a sip of his faux-coffee and flipped the thing open.
"Welcome to the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, inside you will find the universes largest and most popular repository of vital information, such as what to do if you find yourself trapped next to an exploding star (be somewhere else) or facing Vogon Bureaucracy…"
Eyebrows raided, Adama listened to the spiel. Slowly, a frown slipped itself across his features, a thought slipping to the front of his mind.
Wait a minute… Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy…
A Siren sounded abruptly, shockingly loud in the silence of the storeroom, filled as it was with battered and cracked parts and a single, well stocked and apparently well used artificers station.
"That doesn't sound good," Arthur Dent commented.
"No, it doesn't" Ford replied grimly.