ICE PALACE

January 2nd, 2024 (55 AT), 0230hrs MTN

The alert klaxon hooted like a vuvuzela from hell, accompanied by the frenzied drumbeat of booted feet, as the Security Force flights stormed into the lower levels of the Mountain. Two flights, kitted out in riot gear, stacked up on either side of the airlock door leading into the Black Section. Through the Armorglas doors, a uniformed body could be see, laying facedown.

A man in a blue Service uniform elbowed his way to the airlock, the airmen coming to attention around him.

"What the hell is going on, Sergeant?", he asked the senior duty NCO, who was hurriedly throwing on a vest and facemask. "Tech Sergeant Wilson, sir, shift NCOIC. HOT ICE jumped a guard again, during movement between Quarters and the Lab. Only this time, ICE pulled the guard's sidearm. The duty nurse hit the panic button, and we lost contact will all five interior Black Section personnel within 2 minutes after that".

The officer grimaced. "HOT ICE is armed?". "Yes, Major". Nodding, the Major considered the airlock for a moment, the gave directions. "Alright, nonlethals only. Breach the Section, secure the entrance and sweep front to back. ICE goes back in the cage. Find Doctor Johannsen and pull her out. Move."

The SF troops cut the power to the airlock hydraulics, then forced the two doors and bounded out into the red-lit gloom of Black Section, dazzlers and tasers at the ready. Two airmen with body bunker shields led the way. The Major and two medics checked the motionless form laying in front of the main desk. "It's the nurse, sir. Looks like she was choked out, but she'll be OK in a few hours". "Get her up to the clinic", the Major directed, then moved off to follow the sweep teams.

From up ahead, he could hear shouting. Two voices, one female and agitated, one male and imperative. Nearing the focus of the conflict, the argument became clearer.

"Sgt, Don't fire, for God's sake! I have the situation under control!" "Doctor Johannsen, please move towards the wall, immediately! NOW, Doctor!".

As the Major rounded the corner into the main observation area, a third voice broke in, calling out demands in another language, obviously enraged. The situation came into view and the Major noted the semicircle of SF troops formed around two people who were back against the rear wall.

"The guard's weapon is an electrotaser. It won't penetrate your armor. Dogpile!", the Major shouted, and the airmen charged the two figures. From amid the scrum, one of them, a woman in a white labcoat over civilian clothing, was thrown toward the Major. Shaking her blonde hair out of her face, Doctor Melissa Johannsen (PhD) threw Major Michael Falkenberg (USAF) a furious glare.

"Major, I was handling this situation! I..." "Doctor, the situation you were so ably "handling" is, to my belief, of your own making. You've been warned. Please return to the main airlock and await debrief." Falkenberg moved into the area where the struggle, despite the litany of curses and screams, was coming to a close. "Sgt, secure HOT ICE in the cage and double the guard. No one enters without my express instruction."

As the guard detail moved off deeper into Black Section, HOT ICE squirmed around in the restraints, glaring and shouting at Falkenberg. The Major ran a hand across his face. Captain Kara Thrace, visitor from the stars, was a giant pain in his ass.


January 2nd, 2024 (55 AT), 1330hrs MTN

"Doctor Johannsen, you are in no position to make any protests regarding the actions of our security teams". Falkenberg leaned back in his office chair, staring across his desk at the still-rumpled academic. Who glared right back.

"Dammit Major, you've got her locked up in that cage like Hannibal Lecter!". The officer rolled his eyes before he responded, "She was in very comfortable quarters...before you broke protocol and enabled ICE to make an escape attempt. Her thirdsuch attempt in as many months." "Can you blame her?", Melissa shot back.

"Let's get something straight, Doctor. HOT ICE is in no way to blame for this situation. She is a soldier being detained by agents of a foreign power. It's her duty to escape. We understand that, and have planned accordingly...to ensure her safety when she tries to break out. Those measures break down when our head researcher cuts corners and ignores movement restrictions...such as allowing ICE to move between rooms with an object in her hands!"

Melissa snorted, "It was just a Geography text! She wanted to learn about Earth...since we won't let her actually see it!" "Well, Senior Airman Henderson certainly learned some geography this morning. By osmosis, when she nailed him in the head with an 800-page textbook. Which got her you as a human shield and Henderson's taser as a weapon. Which the 3 other Black Section personnel on duty quickly found out, first hand", Falkenberg snarked.

"Major, I am the director of resear..." "Not for long, if this continues to occur". That got her attention. "What do you mean?", she asked, sitting up straight. "I mean that this command is being pressured to find a more permanent solution to the security threat presented by HOT ICE, and breaches such as occurred this morning reduce our ability to ignore that pressure".

Johannsen's eyes narrowed. "Permanent? Which means what?". "Permanent confinement in the cage. Paper hospital gowns for clothing, your removal from the project, and Haloperidol in her food". "HALOP...!" "Yes. That way, even if she gets out, her brains will be too scrambled for her to convince anyone that she's legit. Old trick from Castro's secret police".

"That's monstrous!" "A sentiment shared by everyone in this command. However, our ability to protect HOT ICE from these measures is a function of our ability to control her. An ability which your attempts to curry her favor have severely degraded. This isn't a singles bar, Doctor".

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?", Melissa yelled, springing out of her chair. Falkenberg just stared her down. "I have a file from OSI, Doctor, that tells me what your neice's favorite color is. Care to guess what it has to say about your relationship history? Of the five semiserious relationships you have had since High School, 3 have been with a female partner, although the most recent was with a man. Sean, the Pediatrician. Nice guy". Melissa had turned bright crimson at these details and stared into the corner of the room.

"Ordinarily, no one would care. I'll be the first to admit, ICE is very attractive. When she's not screaming and trying to kick our asses. Not to mention she's got an awesome lifestory, and without question the scientific wonder of the Age. However, you are allowing your attraction to get in the way of doing your job. You cut corners with security to avoid irritating her, and she was able to assault your teammates and put herself at risk. Had she made it out of Black Section, she'd have run into troops with real bullets and orders to shoot on sight".

"That's insane. Shes the single most valuable human being alive!". Falkenberg nodded, "The same reasons that make her valuable also make her extremely dangerous. If she gets out and starts telling people about extraterrestrial human civilizations, ancient astronauts, thirteen tribes of Man, Greek gods, armies of killer robots and a bunch of refugees looking for Earth...with their giant space battleship...well, it's going to be a bad day on Wall Street".

He continued, looking at the wall behind her, "Economic crises, religious turmoil, panic in the streets, people holing up in their homes instead of making the trains run on time, civil disorder, dogs and cats living together...The President had good reasons for dropping her in this hole. Both of us, as I recall, were in the room when he broke the news to her." Melissa winced. That had been a bad scene, and had resulted in Kara being restrained and sedated for 72 hours.

The Major moved in for the kill. "The bottom line, Doctor, is that, like myself, you are one of her jailers. You aren't going to become BFFs. We have a moral responsability to maintain her in as much comfort as possible, within the limitations of the situation. So you two sharing girl talk all night in the Lab is a plus, not a minus. It's when you allow your sympathy for, and attraction to, HOT ICE to get in the way of adhering to the security protocols that you endanger her...and everyone around you. You might benefit from the example set by Lieutenant Cernan, who showed exceptional professionalism in a veryawkward situation."

Melissa lowered her gaze. "I understand, Major. It won't happen again." "I hope not. Neither of us wants anything to happen to ICE. If we get replaced because we fail to maintain total control, the people they send in to replace us won't have been with the project since day one, like you and I have. They won't understand, and probably won't give a damn".

Standing up, he guided Johannsen to the office door. "I'm going to let her chill out in the cage for 48hrs or so...then move her back into Quarters. You can visit her at that point".


January 5th, 2024 (55 AT), 1300hrs MTN

Captain Kara Thrace, CF, did not like being locked up. At all. Unfortunately, the government of the Earthtribe seemed to be intent on keeping her confined under this mountain. Forever.

That they were very apologetic about it, and seemed to spare no effort to keep her comfortable, only made it more enraging. These were the people that the Fleet had been searching for. For years! They were supposed to help their brothers, the survivors of the other twelve tribes.

Instead, they were incapable of interplanetary, let alone interstellar, spaceflight. To make matters worse, they had no clue of the existence of the other twelve tribes, or Kobol, or even their own status. Capping it all off, she had no way to locate the Fleet, get word back, or even teach the Earthers how to contact them. Hell, but for the circumstances of her arrival, she doubted the Earthers would have believed her story at all.

One moment, she'd been chasing a phantom down into the storm in the gas giant's atmosphere. The next...she'd snapped awake while entering Earth's atmosphere. Too caught up in the sights of the blue and green jewel, she hadn't noticed the interceptors until they'd pulled into formation with her.

The big grey fighters had boxed her in, and the pilots gestured for her to follow them to a landing point. Which turned out to be an airfield in the western desert of one of the continents in the northern hemisphere, about 35 degrees north of the equator. Landing, she'd been greeted by a party of armed men and women, who politely but firmly took her into custody.

The events that quickly followed were not exactly the long-awaited reunion of the two branches of Humankind that everyone in the Fleet (and generations of Piconese and Caprican science-opera writers) had imagined. Unable to understand any of their languages, she'd been relegated to an observer as they hurriedly moved her (somewhat crispy about the edges) Viper into a nearby hangar and whisked her off to another area, where she was housed for several long weeks.

They had brought in experts who employed sophisticated electronic equipment that analyzed her speech, eventually allowing a running translation...so long as everyone spoke slowly. A bit of a break was gained when one of the local languages matched up in several ways with (evidently, by the sound of it) the old form of Kobolian, which was ancestral to both modern Caprican and Piconese. It was during this period that she first noticed Melissa and Major Falkenberg, who she later learned had been brought in on that first night. Both began spending long hours talking to her, with more emphasis on them getting to know her than the "who/what/why/where/when" that most of her hosts seemed to be interested in.

While this was going on, they moved her into the mountain facility (which was built like something from a Piconese war movie, and was called the ICE PALACE) she currently occupied. Falkenberg seemed to have been placed in overall command, with Lieutenant Cernan ("Scotty, to my friends!") as his XO, looking after Kara when he wasn't around. Melissa was apparently in charge of learning everything about Colonial civilization in general and one Kara Thrace in particular.

Shortly after the big move, things took a turn for the worse...


July 12, 2023 (54 AT), 1100hrs MTN

"...and then Commander Adama told the Fleet we were going to make a run for Earth. Of course, no one had a frakking clue where Earth was, until we found Kobol and saw the starmap", Kara told her audience, consisting of Melissa, Falkenberg and Lieutenant Cernan. Waiting for the machine to translate tended to make conversations lag.

This time, though, both Melissa and Falkenberg gave Kara very funny looks. Falkenberg said, "Sorry, Captain, but the translator glitched again. The way it came through implied that you had previous knowledge of Earth and even found a map indicating our location".

Not much of a glitch, then, Kara thought. "No, Major, all that's correct." Melissa leaned forward in her chair, "Kara, how could your people, tens of thousands of parsecs away, have had any knowledge of our world?" Silly question. "Well...the Sacred Scrolls recorded the voyage and destination of the Thirteenth Tribe, after they left Kobol, prior to the Great Exodus of the other Twelve Tribes. That's where we got all our information about Earth." "And who were the Thirteenth Tribe, exactly?", Falkenberg asked.

What the frak? "Uh...that would be you." Silence. "The Earthtribe." Her three companions exchanged looks of confusion. "How can you not know this?" Melissa broke her silence first, "Kara, I don't really know a better way to put this...but, there is a reliable archeological and fossil record that conclusively proves that the Human race developed on Earth. We can trace it back several million years. We are native to this world."

Kara felt the bottom drop out of the room. "What?" "It's not my field," Falkenberg interjected, "but even I know that we've got more than ten thousand years of documented agricultural civilization. The last five thousand or so as metal-using urban cultures with preserved writings. We aren't extraterrestials, and until this morning...we'd never heard of Kobol."

Agitated by the blunt denial, Kara shot to her feet. "That's impossible! Humankind developed on Kobol. 3500 years ago, the 13th Tribe left Kobol, for Earth! The oracle Pythia recorded their journey! 2000 years ago, the other 12 Tribes were expelled from Kobol, by the Gods, but a holographic starmap was built that showed the general location of Earth."

Beginning to pace around the room, feeling more and more nervous under the skeptical gazes of the other three, she continued. "After the Colonies were destroyed, we stumbled across Kobol. We opened the Tomb of Athena and found the starmap. Now it's a race, though. The Cylons know what we know, thanks to frakking Baltar."

Melissa started, flashing Kara a horrified look. Cernan straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the room's observation window. Falkenberg, his face expressionless, quietly asked "So, not only are your own people homeless and searching for us...but a race of genocidal machines are chasing you...and now, thanks to your leaders, they are actively looking for us too?" Kara guessed her expression was all the answer he needed.

Turning around in his chair, he nodded to Cernan, who exited the room and could be seen through the window as he spoke urgently into the wall-mounted phone. Looking at Melissa, Falkenberg rose. "Doctor, come with me, please. We need to report this development." Melissa looked as if she wanted to say something, but nodded after a moment and followed the Major out. Kara was left alone in the suddenly very empty room, not knowing quite what had just happened.


July 13, 2023 (54 AT), 0900hrs MTN

The meeting had rapidly degenerated into a shouting match. The Cabinet representatives had been horrified by the preceding day's revelations, as had the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and his deputies. Falkenberg and Johannsen, having arrived on an Air Force personnel transport to deliver the news in person, had attempted to defend Kara, noting that the translation software had only just reached a level of utility where abstract concepts could be discussed. The other people in the room were, however, unanimously uninterested in that line of reasoning.

Standing, Melissa had pointed out "...compounding the slow progress of the software, there is obviously an Outside Context Problem. Kara...Captain Thrace, simply never imagined that we weren't her "13th Tribe". For her, Earth was the destination of a splinter faction of the Kobolian ur-civilization. Ergo, when she "found" Earth, the people inhabiting it were obviously the 13th Tribe. She was genuinely frightened when we told her we were not."

In an exasperated tone, the DNI (Director of National Intelligence) had said "Dr. Johannsen, we're less concerned with HOT ICE's hokey religion...and much more concerned with the horde of killer robots that are apparently on their way."

"As it stands", GEN Meyer, the Chairman of the JCS, stated "there is absolutely nothing we can do to defend this planet from an enemy force that controls the orbitals. Certainly not against a force that has FTL drives and high DeltaV spacecraft. They show up, we're out of luck."

The Secretary of Defence interjected, "So we need time, and HOT ICE's cooperation...but how do we start developing spacefighters and moving to a war footing without people catching on before we're ready? The minute someone figures out what we're doing...and why we're doing it, they'll blow the whistle on the US Government preparing to fight aliens. Which will cause a mass panic, as it's unlikely we'd be able to deny what we're doing."

"We're missing the most important point", Falkenberg said. This caused the SECDEF to raise his eyebrows in a clear motion to continue. "Captain Thrace, however she came to be here, and however she regards us, has dropped a technological windfall into our laps. One we can't ignore, given yesterday's little surprise. We need to replicate the capabilities of her spacecraft...and we would greatly benefit in doing so with her cheerful cooperation. I'd advise against drawing any line that might agitate her."
"Whether we like it or not, these Cylons are out there, as are the Colonials. Both are actively searching for us. We need to be ready."

It was a few moments before any of the assembled civilian and military leaders spoke. GEN Meyer, especially, wore an expression of consideration. He was the last member of the so-called Gang of Four, the Army and Aerospace Force generals who successfully oversaw the dismemberment and disbanding of the Marine Corps in 2020, to remain on Active Duty. The others had been brought down by the remaining USMC partisans in the Congress. The successful manipulation of military reality and public sentiment that had been brought to a climax in the Budget Crisis that year, with US Army leaders discretely being aided by their counterparts in the Korean Army to rig the 2019 COBRA GOLD wargames, had outraged many of the Marine Corps' allies in the political arena. Only GEN Meyers, a decorated Crusader who had led the 7th Infantry Division through the Hindu Kush into Peshawar and then onto the final assault on Islamabad, had the political capital to resist Congressional pressure to resign.
He was possibly the most powerful American military Officer since Eisenhower. His would be the voice that the President was waiting for.

Standing up, GEN Meyer addressed the two ICE PALACE personnel. "Major, Doctor, I want you two to continue to debrief HOT ICE...that is, Captain Thrace, and attempt to sound her out with regard to her assisting us to develop the technology to defend ourselves. Also, we need an idea of how exactly the Colonial leadership will conduct themselves, should they show up with their giant warship. In the meantime, the Secretary, Director and I will present the situation to the President and a guiding Policy will be determined. Thank you for your Service. We'll convene again in a few weeks."

With that, the meeting broke up, and the various entities gathered their notes, turning the TS/SCI folders back over to the Intelligence personnel who were responsible for them. Falkenberg and Melissa headed for Andrews AFB and another flight back to the Mountain. The SECDEF, DNI and GEN Meyers were headed for the Hill.


Infodump:

Story goes Hard AU immediately after Maelstrom (as if you hadn't guessed that).

Some background on the main characters:

Starbuck: Same old Kara.

Falkenberg: Age 36. Major, United States Aerospace Force. Space & Missile Officer (Satellites and ICBMs to the uninitiated). Aerospace Engineering degree from the University of Florida (AFROTC grad). Commissioned 2009. Served in Afghanistan and Pakistan, as well as at Vandenberg, F.E. Warren, Peterson and Patrick AFBs.

Johannsen: Age 34. MD/PhD (Molecular Biology). NASA Astronaut Corps. Bachelors Degree in Anthropology (Stanford), with MD/PhD from same. Been with NASA since getting her Doctorate.

Cernan: Age 28. 1st Lieutenant, United States Aerospace Force. AFSOC. Special Tactics Officer. Bachelors in Military History (Norwich), Commissioned via OTS. Was Prior Service as an Aerospace Commando for 6 years. Fought in Pakistan campaign (Silver Star for assault on an IRBM site outside Peshawar).

2024 Earth:

No Fusion powerplants.

Booster-launched Capsules (Soyuz & Orion/Dragon) and Spaceplanes (Dreamchaser and a European spaceplane that has yet to fly). Effectively no increase in nonmilitary/intelligence space assets over 2010.

War on Terror officially declared finished by G10 & NATO in July 2022, after Pakistan capitulates and the Saudis sign the Paris Accords*.

US population 340,000,000. The US Army has an end-strength (authorized manpower) of 875,000 Active Duty personnel. The US Aerospace Force (what was the US Air Force) is the other major Service, in terms of Budget and reach (several varieties of UCAVs, Orbital assets, etc), with the Navy bringing up the rear (the 2010's were not kind to the Naval forces of the World). The Coast Guard and US Gendarmerie (a militarized Police force, along the lines of the French and Italian paramilitary forces) are larger than in 2010 (the Gendarmes only having been formed in 2019), and are used to secure the Coasts and Borders, respectively, and deployed to fight piracy and drug/human trafficking.
Within the USAF, AFSOC and Space Command now hold all the cards, with Air Combat Command now being dominated by the UCAV mafia.

China is engaged in a low-level Civil War between "North and South" (in reality, more like Inland versus Coastal) due to economic inequalities. There is currently no clear "Official" Chinese government, with 3 differing bodies (in Hong Kong, Xinjiang and Hangchow, respectively) all claiming legitimacy. PLA Strategic Forces are officially neutral, with all 3 claimants agreeing (under pressure from the other Powers) to let them sit it out and providing funds for their upkeep.

The UK has formed a loose Coalition of English-speaking nations (pretty much the UK, Australia and New Zealand, as Canada decided to stick with the US) who wanted to be able to stand on their own, economically and militarily, without becoming either US auxiliaries or signing their sovereignty away to the EU. France is a cooperating non-member (working with the Coalition or within the EU, as the situation warrants).

Globally, the Earth is experiencing a fairly peaceful moment, with most armed conflicts being internal and low-intensity. Mostly because everyone is either exhausted from the constant warfare of the 2010's, or are tied up consolidating recent gains (such as Russia, which has brought Belarus and the Ukraine back into alliance, while achieving local hegemony over the Baltics).

The President of The United States is a 4th Generation Citizen of Asian descent, from Hawai'i, a veteran of the Iraq War (National Guard) and a Centrist Republican. Ole Miss dominates the SECC West and Mexico won the '22 World Cup. Mexico has expunged the Cartels and is now a major Partner of the US (Mexican troops stormed Karachi alongside the 49th Armored Division).

Other details will be unveiled as the story expands outward.

Yes, the language that is related to Kobolian is Archaic Greek (what would have been spoken in Mycenaean Greece, circa 1200 BC, when the Trojan War occurred). Given the use of the Greek cultural mythos in Colonial civilization, I didn't really see any other option.

I figure that Reunion between the 12 Tribes and the 13th occupies a space in their culture analogous to First Contact in ours. Lots and lots of scifi ("science opera") stories revolving around it. The Colonials, in the series, are (by omission) implied to believe that there is no nonhuman intelligence in the Galaxy...only the Kobolian-descended humans and their Cylon creations. So, instead of writing about meeting aliens, the Colonial Arthur Clarke's write about meeting the 13th Tribe.

I also never meant to imply, in the opening paragraph of the first chapter, that there were any vuvuzelas that were notfrom Hell.

*-effectively a "Stand and Deliver" ultimatum, delivered to the Saudis (with several pointed hints to the other Arab nations) by the G10. Under pain of economic and military (mostly the threat of aiding antigoverment insurgents) reprisals, the Saudis were obliged to agree to supply oil to the G10 for a fixed price...and to prevent their citizens from supplying money to any external religious or social organization (read: terrorists and Wahabbi missionaries).