Risk and Glory

In a way, Adama could sympathise. There was a part of hin that liked the idea of joining forces with Cain and destroying the Cylon base on Gamoray. Under other circumstances he would not hesitate to do so. But he just could not risk it. Such an attack would mean leaving the fleet wholly unprotected, and that would most likely be the time of a Cylon attack on them. They were overdue for just such an attack—Baltar never left it long between attacks, just giving himself enough time to muster forces while trying not to give the fleet time to rest and regroup. Luckily, the former tended to coincide with the latter. But an attack was overdue—there were no doubts about that.

He could just imagine it. Their two Battlestars cruising into Gamoray, weapons blazing, taking the Cylons by complete surprise. Launching the Viper squadrons to cut a swath through the Cylon defences, wrecking destruction upon Gamoray the way the Cylons had on Caprica and the other Colonies. It was an enticing thought, one that flitted away at the sides of his mind even as he said the contrary to Cain and relieved him of command. The old warrior in him ached for such a glorious battle.

But Adama could not risk it. He was no longer that battle-hungry warrior; he had not been for some yahrens. And the fact that Cain was still such a battlemonger was irrelevant. He had other concerns now. He was not just the commander of a Battlestar. He was the commander of a ragtag fleet of rickety civilian ships carrying the last survivors of humanity. And he could not leave them unprotected for a mission of glory. For if they were destroyed, so was humanity.