The spot lights of Singapore shipyards cast beams through the colossal alloy cages of the vehicle assembly complex. Workers in pressure suits were crawling over them inspecting for damages or worn parts. The men were career ship yard workers mostly. Having spent a good portion of their lives in weightlessness they seemed to have supernatural instincts for working in a vacuum. With the occasional adjustment from on board thrusters the workers glided between the girders like apparitions.
Inside the control booth Maximillian Bronski watched the grand ballet outside. 'Max' was the Singapore yard master. He shouldered the ultimate responsibility for the facility. If people got hurt, it was his fault. If ships got damaged, it was his fault. Max was a second generation surviver. His parents had met during the exodus and when the rag tag fleet arrived in Sirius they married. Max's father took a job with Dauman Heavy Construction and Max was born soon after. Unwilling to trust the Reinlanders with his own son's education, Max was home schooled by his mother. In his free time as a boy he plied the halls of Alster shipyard and watched the ships come to life from nothing.
Ship building was in Max's blood, and this new project had his blood pumping. The supply manager, Michael Gideon had already assembled the first acquisition convoy and headed for the core worlds. The two of them had sat through several planning committees, took a crash course in Battlestar architecture from the chief engineer on board Valkyrie, and had run the search for a ship designer. That little project turned out to be a bear. What little sketchy records that still remained of the original Colonial fleet builders gave the two men heartburn. All of the shipbuilding talent posessed by the children of Kobol died at Pycon shipyards in the first wave of the 2nd Cylon war. What was left were engineers, yard workers and their descendants...people who carried on the knowledge of their parents but not ship designers. Even Max, having grown up around space ship architects felt frighteningly humble next the the task that lay ahead.
While endless panels conviened to interview potential ship architects to design the ship, Max Bronski was overseeing the refit of Singapore shipyards.
"Jimmie, we got 15 minutes, hows it coming?"
"Yea yea boss, keep your panties on. We almost have it now."
Max watched on from the control booth as his crew manuevered one of the colossal gantry rails into place on the vehicle assembly rack. These major steps were hampered by nearby nebula fluctuations. Electro static eruptions waxed and waned in regular cycles. IMG surveyors had recommended this sight for Singapore thinking it would be the perfect place to hide a major ship building facility, only they didn't think of the practical issues when they layed the first struts. Now they had to shut the operation down completely every 3 hours for a 15 minute storm or risk damage to men and equipment.
The shift boss gave the all clear when the final pins were placed on the new gantry crane. 25 yard workers in pressure suits made their way to airlock 5 as Bronski looked on. He counted all of his workers as he knew his shift boss was. Ship yard workers were so hard to find in the Taus, they couldn't afford to lose any of them. Gods willing the port authorities would give passing marks in their inspection and assembly could start this week. One last look at the now deserted ship yard and the encroaching nebula and Bronski flipped the station warning lights to yellow. An automated voice came over the speakers:
"Attention, Nebula storm imminent, EVA activity will recommence in 20 minutes."
The station-wide announcement continued at regular intervals. This particular storm coincided with a shift change. Yard workers milled into the locker rooms to take off their suits and head for the bars, or their bunks.
Disembarking from the Virgon Express, Cassie Tronjhiem felt the stale recirculated air of Sulawesi station cross her brow. The low gravity kept on the station during power saving cycles gave a funny bounce to the milling passengers. Cassie observed the sea of faces before her: craftsmen, machinists, mechanics interspersed with the occasional miner. Long lines were forming at security checkpoints far ahead. While settling in for the long wait in line she sensed someone looking at her from the side:
"You don't have to wait in line here."
The friendly face that regarded her looked her up and down.
"Tell that to the mob, I got stuck in the back of the bus here."
"No, I mean you really don't have to, Engineers have priority."
Cassie looked at her bags, which were adorned with bright orange labels. Everyone else's had blue labels. They had indeed made her stick out for a reason.
"C'mon, I'll show you."
Cassie noted orange labels on the bags of her new companion and wondered why he had been in line with her all that time. The question was forgotten when they reached a desk with a clerk behind it.
"Passport please."
Cassie turned over the document and began taking her shoes off.
"Keep yer knickers on honey, engineers don't have to strip."
Cassie blushed, then looked over at the adjoining lines where hordes of workers were stripped down to barely anything. They were subjected to numerous uncomfortable scans and injections designed to screen for synthetic humanoids.
"All set lassy, NEXT!"
"Thats it?"
"You're urgently needed at the assembly area darling, don't fret, none of this mess is for you!"
Cassie's new companion winked at her and playfully grabbed her bags as well as his own and escorted her to the shuttle station.
The new companions boarded an intersystem shuttle bound for Singapore Shipyards where they would begin their work on the new Battlestar. As the small craft shoved off, another large passenger liner pulled into Sulawesi's pattern to disgorge more workers. A small headache Cassie had been fighting off ever since they had entered Tau-44 2 hours earlier slowly got better. As she looked out the window she saw an ugly green-yellow planet in the distance.
"What is that?"
"Thats Mindanao. Nasty radiation on that planet. The colonization commission is studying it from Sarawak there but they haven't found a way to counteract it."
Cassie's headache was nearly gone now, soon they would cross the Sumatra cloud and begin their work...and maybe after work she could see more of her new friend...