Character introduction
You might at first think that Laszlo Katona was the coolest
man alive. He was a shuttle pilot on a deep space research vessel, a former Ha'la'tha
hitman, his abilities honed in the brutal conditions of Colonial prisons of
increasing security. In an even more secret former life, he'd been a member of
a top secret Colonial Intelligence unit called the Blue Squadron. He had been
the assassin, the dirty job expert in a unit specializing in dirty jobs. His
call sign, SHANK, reflected this perfectly. Even his biggest weakness sounded
like a strength: a decidedly un-Tauron tendency to survive at all costs.
In reality he was a bitter, cynical, emotionally burned-out
sociopath who had walked out on his wife and young daughter, and gotten a job
on the Monitor Celestra. He wasn't there in any kind of undercover capacity, he
just wanted to run away from a bad breakup brought on partly by his criminal
activities. He got a steady paycheck, reasonable amount of solitude and maybe a
little Ha'la'tha gambling ring running on the side. Almost the only truly
positive things left in his life were flying, and a few of his ex-ColIntel
friends who were also serving on the Celestra, the same people who had gotten
him the job in the first place.
As the Celestra was nearing the end of the current mission,
Laszlo was considering reconnecting with his wife and daughter. Maybe not
actually trying to get back together as a family - he realized that it wasn't
something he was suited for - but possibly to start keeping in touch.
Then the world ended. Laszlo found himself flying evacuation
flights from Tauron, to get a pitiful couple of dozen people to safety from a
nuclear holocaust. He felt that in the grand scheme of things this was almost
pointless, and he was cast in the role of the savior despite not giving a frak
about the people he was dragging out.
Episode One - Take The Celestra
With the Capricans' arrival on the Celestra, Laszlo had to
prioritize: There's your job, there's your clan, and then there's your family,
in an increasing order of importance.
Piloting was the job, so Laszlo hung out with his sleep
deprived Celestra mates as well as the newcomers from Galactica. He had met
some of the Galacticans before, when flying shuttle missions between the two
ships, played a round of cards. Pilots being pilots, everyone oozed
testosterone, but pretty soon a sense of camaraderie won out. Caprican or
Tauron, Celestran or Galactican didn't really matter in the pilots' quarters.
They would have to fly together, and they'd have to trust each other. Enough
shared background made this easy. Duties would be shared, and no matter what
conflicts arose elsewhere on the ship, they would not be welcome on the cramped
ready room next to the shuttle dock.
Ha'la'tha was the clan. Laszlo had rescued some important
figures from the burning planet, and this had put him in the deepest part of
the remains of the clan without a clan. He was unsurprised that they were going
to organize, to set themselves as the protectors of Tauron once again. Laszlo
kept his doubts about criminals' ability to become freedom fighters or civic
leaders to himself. He would be loyal to their interests if he could, but to
him there was a more important purpose still. In the eyes of the Ha'la'tha this
would make him a traitor and an oathbreaker. Laszlo accepted this. Surviving in
extremely dangerous situations was what he did best.
Blue Squadron was the family. The only people who meant
anything to Laszlo anymore had appeared on the Celestra. While swatting away
Tauron refugees whose gratitude he didn't want, wishing he could get a few
hours sleep again someday, he realized that the rest of his former Blue
Squadron mates were not a sleep-deprivation induced hallucination - that they
were actually on the ship, arrived from Galactica. A conference with another
Blue, Celestra's first mate Kobor - callsign LONGSHOT -confirmed this. All 12
survivors of the Blue Squadron were now on the Tauron ship. This could not be a
coincidence.
Laszlo tried to contact many of his mates, and got hints
that something was actually going down. Meanwhile the ship got into battle,
there were disputes of command and Celestra's role in the second grand exodus
of humanity, the civilians wanted to set up a government and the Taurons and
the Capricans were scowling at each other. All this went by in a bit of a
haze...
... until an artillery specialist from Galactica drew a gun
in the CIC and tried to shoot major Darlington - a fellow Blue, callsign
JAVELIN. The specialist got gunned down. A Blue marine, Cassidy, callsign
SCALPEL, nodded at Laszlo, telling him to help carry the body. Not to the
medbay, but to a more private place, the fore mess.
The specialist was, presumably, a cylon. One of the Celestran
medics, Zentai, was told to do an autopsy, and to keep totally quiet about the
results. Zentai didn't exactly understand what was going on, but suddenly he
found himself surrounded by people he presumed to be his crewmates, telling him
to do exactly what the big marine wanted. Blue Squadron was slipping out of the shadows, and falling back into
their routine.
Zentai was bullied into doing the autopsy. Laszlo, now fully
in his blue squadron role as SHANK the dirty job expert, was assisting him and
providing security. Surprisingly, the presumed cylon appeared entirely human.
Suddenly the dead body turned its head and looked at the people surrounding it.
In a flash, Laszlo had his knife out, and stuck it in the heart of the cylon.
"Stay dead", he told it. It did.
The body needed disposal. Cassidy was going to get a
bodybag. Laszlo and a fellow blue, CIC officer Mariska Bako, callsign SPARK
were locked into the fore mess, in order to start dismembering it. Both of the
ColIntel agents were still high on adrenaline. It had been over five years
since they had last been in combat together. Back then, they had had similar
responses to danger. Since then, they had been friends.
Ten seconds after the door had been closed they jumped each
other and started tearing each others clothes off. Of course, just as they were
struggling out of their uniforms, Cassidy came back in. His expression of head-shaking
"not this frakking thing again, you idiots" was priceless.
Briefly Laszlo was again alone with the body. He imagined it
started talking to him. He realized he needed sleep desperately.
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