Battlestar Galactica Bible, The

by Ronald D. Moore

  Deciding that only twelve models of Cylon were necessary suggests that the diversity of humanity is overrated and that there are relatively few physical attributes worthy of preservation.

  While the Cylons obviously communicate verbally, there is presumably the ability to transmit information in a non-verbal form of data transmission among one another. This implies that the Cylons prefer verbal communication as a "polite" convention between sentient beings and further implies that the Cylons do have their own codes of conduct and behavior that marks them as "civilized" in their own minds.

  The fact that the consciousness of one Cylon can be transmitted from a dying body to another Cylon body also suggests that the Cylons place a tremendous value on life itself Consider the technology required to pull off this amazing feat. If the human mind contains data so vast as to be almost incalculable in terms of bytes and gigabytes, the Cylon consciousness must be larger by several orders of magnitude. Super-fast computer networks capable of transmitting enormous amounts of information must be constantly at the ready to receive a sudden emergency download from any Cylon anywhere while simultaneously a new body must be constantly at the ready.

  Given the presumed millions of Cylons in existence, this suggests a gargantuan support system whose only purpose is to keep the members of the society alive. Such a society has to have a core belief in the value of life itself and also an almost pathological fear of true, final, mortal death. Ironically, the Cylons may well value life even more than do the human beings they seek to wipe out.

  The organization of Cylon society and its hierarchies are as yet undeveloped, but we should always beware the temptation to turn the Cylons into a hive mind of some sort (a la Star Trek's Borg) which would only make them automatons constantly linked to some kind of group think. The Cylons are scary and intriguing because they are individuals, yet share a linkage to their brethren unlike anything that mortal man can conceive.

  Clearly there is some kind of hierarchy - the "Sharon" Cylon at the end of the miniseries makes a statement and another Cylon answers with "By your command" ~ but we should resist assigning any familiar governmental or cultural structures and continually find ways to make them unique: truly humanity's children, yet completely unknowable at the same time.

  The Cylons should have their own art, music, poetry, etc. They want to appreciate the universe in all of its beauty. The question for them is whether or not they do. How can a Cylon truly know what love is? How can Number Six judge whether what she feels for Baltar is love or a digital copy? How can any of us know?

  Technology

  The Cylons have clearly developed a highly sophisticated and technologically advanced society that outstrips that of the Colonial humans. The scope of that technology will be and should be explored in the series and I hesitate to define them now, but we should bear in mind the following limitations:

  The Cylons should not have the ability to break the laws of physics. No time travel devices.

  They should not develop a "better" Cylon that is no longer modeled on the human form or which tries to purge all the "bad" qualities of humanity. The human form is part of who they are and is based on their own creation and goes to the heart of who and what they are.

  The Cylons should not develop "super weapons." No planet killers, please.

  They are not the Borg. When in doubt, remember they are not the Borg.

  In general, the Cylons should be an extension of current, cutting edge ideas about how computer technology could potentially be exploited and be put.to use in the service of an artificial intelligence.

  CHARACTER BIOGRAPHIES

  Commander William Adama

  Adama was born and raised on the colony of Caprica, in a small coastal community. His mother, Evelyn, was an accountant and his father, Joseph, was a prominent attorney who specialized in criminal defense and civil liberties. From his mother he inherited a sharp analytical mind and from his father a passion for the law and the freedoms enshrined within it. Adama also grew up with a love of the sea and ships.

  His parents divorced when Adama was ten years old and he shuttled between the two households until he applied to the Colonial Fleet Academy at age 16. That same year, the Cylon War broke out and Adama's training was accelerated along with all the other midshipmen.

  Adama was commissioned in three years and initially wanted to serve aboard one of the front-line cruisers, but by that point the Defense ministry had brought the first battlestars into service and there was a desperate need for pilots. Two years of flight training would go by before Adama joined his first squadron aboard the Galactica. He was a gifted, natural pilot and he shot down a Cylon fighter in his very first combat mission. But the war was winding down by the time Adama joined the fleet and he saw only a few battles before the Armistice was declared. After the war was over, Adama was mustered out of the service along with millions of other colonials as part of demobilization process. He went home to Caprica and married his high school sweetheart, and started life over.

  Unable to find work as a pilot, Adama signed up as a deck hand in the merchant fleet and spent several years, working as a common sailor aboard tramp freighters plying the shipping lanes between the colonies. It was this experience which would later give him uncommon insight in the lives and struggles of the enlisted ranks aboard Galactica. He continued to reapply for a regular commission in the Fleet every year, but to no avail. It was in this period that Adama met Saul Tigh, another out of work pilot, and the two of them became fast friends.

  The birth of his two sons, Lee and Zak, brought some comfort to Adama, but he was still restless, still eyeing a return to the Fleet. Eventually, his request was granted and Adama put on a Uniform once again.

  The remainder of his career was spent in peacetime service, moving between boring shore assignments and the more coveted postings in the fleet. He served in a variety of positions, but always jumped at any chance to stay in the cockpit, maintaining his flight status right up until the end. At the same time, the return to service put too much strain on the marriage and he and his wife divorced, leaving custody of the two children with her.

  Adama moved up steadily through the ranks and eventually began to command ships in the fleet. Five years ago, he was finally given the command he’d always wanted - the battlestar Galactica, the first ship he'd ever served aboard. By the time Adama got Galactica, she was being phased out of active duty and spending more and more time as a p .r. ship, but no matter. Galactica was special and as Adama approached retirement age, he was glad of the chance to end his career aboard her.

  Adama kept in touch with his sons as best he could, "but distance and demands of the service being what they were, they were never close. Although Adama tried to instill in his sons a sense of duty and admiration for military service, it was still something of a surprise to him when first Lee and then Zak decided to enter the Fleet and become pilots.

  When Zak died during a training flight, Lee confronted his father at the funeral and laid the blame for his younger brother's death at Adama's feet. Lee and his father did not speak for the ensuing two years.

  Adama is a bit of an anomaly. He is both a career military officer and a passionate civil libertarian. Adama believes in the military, believes it's a noble profession. But, like his father, he's also a fierce advocate for the liberties and freedoms on which the Colonies were founded. This duality in his personality have often put him at odds with, the military establishment and has definitely held him back and prevented him from making Admiral.

  He's a bit of an historian, versed in the classics from a young age by his mother, and views the world through the prism of the larger historical context. He's also an avid sports fan and lover of the great outdoors, often spending his leave in remote wilderness campsites alone.

  President Laura Roslin

  Laura Roslin was born and raised in the bustling urban environment of Caprica City. Her parents, Judith and Edward, were teachers in the public school system and she
had two older sisters, Jackie and Sandra, who also went into teaching.

  When Laura was fifteen years old, both her sisters and her father were killed by a drunk driver. Judith never recovered from the shock and Laura would spend the next twenty years caring for her mother in ways large and small. Laura went into teaching and soon had established herself in one of the large public schools in the city.

  She became a successful and beloved teacher and when she was awarded a Teacher of the Year prize by the school board she came to the attention of Richard Adar, Mayor of Caprica City and a man with larger political ambitions. He found the young attractive teacher would be a fine addition to his staff just as he was considering a run for Governor. Laura had no real interest in politics, but she, like so many other people, found Adar to be a charismatic, persuasive and hard man to say no to. She soon found herself taking the oath of office as Superintendent of Public Schools.

  Laura's entry into the world of politics was a harsh and painful one. Adar's administration was beset with problems right from the beginning Caprica City was beset with huge fiscal problems, crime, corruption, an aging infrastructure -- and its public schools were a disaster. Laura came under withering criticism almost from her first day in office. Although overwhelmed by the scrutiny at first, Laura managed to steady herself and her department and she proved herself to be a capable, efficient manager. Mayor Adar pulled the city out of its fiscal problems through sheer force of will, and Laura put the school system back on an even keel without losing a single teacher. Uncomfortable in the spotlight, Laura let others take the credit for the work she had done, and she remained an anonymous member of Adar's staff— but the Mayor knew what she had accomplished, and he never forgot.

  Her personal life was solitary. She seldom dated, although offers were many, and she had few close friends outside of the office. Coworkers respected her, but few would say that they knew her well. Even the Mayor found that his legendary charm would only go so far with Laura Roslin.

  She remained a quiet, efficient public servant, who ran her department with a fairness and gentility that earned her admiration from across the political spectrum, but whose personal life was something of a cipher.

  She lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment in the heart of the city and considered it a good and pleasant evening if the phone did not ring and she was left alone with her books and her extensive art collection.

  Laura's only expressed wish was to leave politics and return to teaching, but Adar's star was on the rise and when he ran for President of the Colonies, Laura found herself along for the ride. His smashing win, by a larger margin than any candidate in history, gave him a vast mandate for change and he quickly appointed Laura as Secretary of Education with orders to reform the entire educational system -- on all twelve colonies -- from top to bottom.

  Laura tackled the job like every other job in her life: with quiet, steely efficiency and a preternatural ability to listen to people and understand their problems. Before long she had won over even the skeptics in the national assembly and the press gave her credit for almost single-handedly pulling off one of the major legislative accomplishments of President Adar's first term. No one -- not even the President -- knew that Laura's mother, Judith, was dying a slow, painful death from cancer even as her daughter was sheparding the legislation through the assembly.

  After the initial splashy success of the reform legislation, Laura settled in to the more mundane life of public administration which suited her just fine. Never one for the limelight or publicity, she shunned all press interviews except those absolutely necessary and tried to remain firmly in the background of any cabinet meeting or photograph.

  Her desire for a quiet life ended when she was accused of corruption in the infamous Seacade District scandal. Charges of influence peddling and embezzlement were thrown around in the national media following the undercover arrest of three of her top aides who were subsequently charged with a laundry list of criminal activity. Although there was no indication that Laura had anything to do with the Seacade events, it happened on her watch and she was the one who had to sit before an openly hostile assembly committee and answer questions for ten long days under the scrutiny of the media. She stumbled several times and her performance under fire was roundly criticized by the President's political opponents as showing the need for new leadership at the top. Adar stood by her, however, and eventually the scandal subsided.

  Laura returned to her job, somewhat embittered by the experience and vowing to get out of politics once and for all once Adar completed his second term.

  Laura is an introvert by nature who's served in the public eye for most of her adult life. Uncomfortable with pressing the flesh and asking for support, she never considered a run for office, even though she has the rare ability to make a person feel as if what they're saying is the most important thing in the world at that moment. She listens extremely well, takes her time making decisions, and understands what makes people tick on a gut level.

  She is an art collector and something of a frustrated artist -- her closets back home were filled with paintings and drawings she created but never hung on the walls. She never had children, but loves their company and has a natural affinity for them.

  Captain Lee Adama

  Lee was born and raised on the colony of Caprica, in the same coastal city in which both his parents and grandparents were born. A headstrong scrappy boy, he was forever getting into fights at school with much bigger kids and usually coming away with the better of the encounter.

  His parents divorced when he was eight years old and he and his younger brother, Zak, were raised by their mother. Their father visited when he could, but the military life often took him away for long months at a time and Lee and Zak grew up with only snapshot memories of their father. Nevertheless, both boys grew up worshipping the distant man who periodically showed up at the house in his blue uniform with a big smile and a toy bought in some exotic port.

  Despite his mother's misgivings, Lee always wanted to be a pilot, to follow in his father's footsteps and join the Fleet. He studied hard in school, aced his entrance exams to the Academy and graduated number three in his class. He was immediately accepted into flight school and again quickly rose to the top of his class. His superiors marked him down early as a young man on the rise, an officer destined for the top commands and eventually the Admiralty itself. It was about this time that Lee and his father began to have a falling out. The boy's hero worship had turned into the young man's resentments at being abandoned and neither he nor his father knew how to bridge the gap and so the visits became rare and the phone calls grew terse.

  While Lee was at flight school, his younger brother Zak was just entering the Academy. Zak had a tougher time of it than Lee, constantly falling behind in his studies, always on report for some infraction of the rules, forever one step away from being bounced out.

  Lee took top honors at flight school and soon was on his way into a Viper squadron and a plum assignment on the Atlantia -- flagship of the fleet. Meanwhile, Zak barely graduated from the Academy and when he still wanted to go to flight school, Lee tried to dissuade him from even applying. Lee loved his brother, would do anything for him, but it was obvious to Lee that Zak wasn't really cut out for the military life, much less the rigors of flight training. The only reason Zak even applied to the Academy was because he worshipped the ground their father walked on -- as Lee himself once did. Lee tried to convince Zak to seek another job in the fleet, but Zak wouldn't hear of it; he wasn't going to be the only Adama without wings on his uniform.

  Zak's application was turned down and that seemed to be the end of it, but then a phone call was placed to the flight commandant from Commander Adama and place suddenly opened up for Zak. Lee was furious, couldn't believe his father would pull strings like this, but there was nothing he could do but hope for the best and continue to encourage Zak in his training Then came yet another shock -- Zak wrote Lee to tell him he was engaged to one of h
is instructors at flight school.

  Lee made time to come visit and it was then that he met Kara Thrace for the first time. She was the polar opposite of Zak -- where he was quiet, reserved, almost painfully sensitive, she was brash, loud, and had a thick hide. Lee liked her immediately. Maybe liked her too much. And he was pretty sure that she felt the same, but never seriously considered anything further. Lee wished them well and left to rejoin his squadron.

  Two weeks later, Zak's plane went down while he was flying a routine solo mission and he was killed. Lee's resentments and grief boiled over at the funeral and he lashed out at his father, blaming him directly for his brother's death, saying in so many words that Adama had all but killed his own son. Father and son never spoke again.

  Lee spent the next two years focusing on his career, having no personal life and working to become the perfect fighter pilot.

  He applied to, and was accepted to test pilot school, the highest honor for any pilot and a sure sign of his rise to the top. He was at test pilot school when the orders came in to report aboard Galactica for her decommissioning ceremony.

  Lee Adama has his father's strength of character and a virtually inviolable code of ethics. He can be stubborn and difficult, often drives his pilots too hard and himself even harder. He rarely gives anyone a break and never gives himself one. From his mother, he's inherited a secret love of cooking and food, which he indulges whenever he can, the rigid pilot finding an out to let his creative juices flow only in a kitchen filled with steaming pots and pans.

  He's a young man with a lot of anger, a lot of resentments and a lot of frustrations who knows not what to do with them. But he's also a fair and decent human being whose deeply felt sense of right and wrong have kept him afloat when so many around him have sunk. He's the kind of man few would call friend, but many would follow into the jaws of hell. He is his father's son.