So many SF writers like to recast historical naval stories as SF. So we were thinking...what about the reverse? The H.M.S. Gift Shop Gallacticka! Who can tell which crewmate may be a crypto-Papist Spanish spy? After Bournemouth burns, the conflicted Doctor Baltar, consumed with memories of his Spanish lover*, devises an ingenious mechanism for inspecting the animacules of the blood, to tell the Papist from Queen Elizabeth's loyal subjects--but will he use this device truly? And the boyish young Lt. Starbuck: does his proper Protestant modesty hide a deeper secret to his identity under his bandaged chest? Return for the next performance of...H.M.S. Gallacticka!
People should totally pay me to make stuff up.
Wait. They do.
So that's all right, then.
*Must be Basque. They're the ones with x's in their names, right?