So, yeah, this is a thing I've always wanted to write, and am finally ready to post. That doesn't mean I'm abandoning my other stories, I've had this sitting on my hard drive for awhile and finally decided to get around to polishing it up. The premise is simple: New Caprica is replaced by the world of Avatar, and we're off to the races. The story should require no prior knowledge of Avatar.
The air was still, and the trees were blooming with the welcomed arrival of spring. The stage was set for the perfect day, if fate hadn't contrived to make everything around it so horrific. A young man rested a hand on his stomach, though it did nothing to quell its ravenous desire. With every step of the beast under him, he could feel a distinct emptiness. It wouldn't be going away. He strengthened the grip on his reigns. The gray-skinned, horned creature below him rumbled with hunger of its own. Behind him, an unshaven older man dressed in rags had somehow managed to fall asleep under the circumstances. His father had always been a heavy sleeper.
They're beast of burden carried a cart holding another half dozen, almost all children. The young always had priority seats in them. The men, for the most part, marched alongside on foot. Their caravan had grown to almost forty, and they'd probably be over fifty by the end of the day. Another day, another village occupied, looted, or simply burnt to cinders. There wasn't a soul among them that didn't look tired or starving. However, none of them had lost sight of hope. Their salvation, the only glimmer of hope they held on to, was only a week's travel time away. Ba Sing Se, the crown jewel of the Earth Kingdom, with its walls that stretched as high as the stars, would give them rest. For a hundred years, the Fire Nation had failed to topple it. Surely, it would hold for another hundred more. It had to.
A deep booming roar rocked the landscape, taking the refugee's off guard. Half of them ducked for cover, while others remained shell shocked. Every pair of eyes darted around for the source of the noise, to no avail. The roar deepened, then deepened again. Finally, it softened. After a minute's time, it passed. The caravan continued onwards, none the wiser of the sleek orange craft soaring imperceptibly high above the landscape. Had they been looking in just the right spot, at just the right time, they might have been able to just make out the craft for the few seconds it took to fly across the space above them. If they had been exceedingly lucky, they might have been able to make out the craft vanishing in a flash of light.
From the narrow, gray room that passed as the center of Colonial government, a middle aged women hunched over a badly worn brown desk with a stack of papers three inches thick beside her. For a ship never meant to be anything more than a passenger liner, Laura Roslin had always thought they'd managed to make the makeshift office look very official. The groggy woman rubbed her eyes, and raised the mug before her for an experimental sip. She'd finally managed to stop herself from gagging at the concoction every morning. Real coffee was a luxury the fleet had long since run out of, after which they had to get creative. After another, longer sip, she returned the mug and took the single sheet of cornerless paper placed neatly on the center of her desk.
The sudden bang of the door at the long hallway's entrance took Roslin off guard. "Good morning, Madam President." Came a familiar feminine voice, breaking the almost perfect silence. Laura looked up to see a dark haired, brown skinned woman making her way towards her desk with a folder packed with pages and notes notes of all varieties in her hand. "You're up early."
'Morning' was such a relative term on a spacecraft. Despite that, phrase had still kept in use more than a year after their exodus. "Morning, Tory." Roslin replied before turning her eyes back towards her paper. Tory Foster had become her impromptu political aide after her last had been killed a few months back. The woman was effective, but a bit too ruthless for Roslin's taste. Though, it wasn't as if they had a plethora of potential candidates. "I just woke up and decided to go over the agenda again. I've always had trouble sleeping before big days. I thought I might as well use the time."
"I ended up not even sleeping, myself." Tory said almost gleefully. "I've been drafting a statement for you to give to the captain of the Zephyr when you meet with him later today. I wanted to get your input." She set a single page of paper on her desk. Roslin knew Tory had been meticulously planning out her every move of her campaign down to the letter. Laura appreciated her efforts, as it let her focus on the affairs of the Fleet itself, but her aide could get a little ahead of herself sometimes.
"I still have a little time before I have to get ready, I'll take a look right now." Roslin took the freshly printed paper by the edge, cleared her throat, and began reading it aloud. "From all of us on Colonial One, I wanted to make it absolutely clear this administration has not forgotten the irreplaceable role your ship plays in the affairs of this fleet." Roslin raised an eyebrow, feeling less than certain of the direction Tory's work was taking. "I find the lack of attention the issues to plaguing the daily life of your passengers and crew contemptuous, and have already made plans to implement a plan of action to remedy..." Her voice quickly cut off. She lowered the sheet of paper from her eyes. "Tory, this wouldn't have anything to do with Zephyr's air filtration system, would it?"
The political aide gave an uncertain smile. The woman suddenly seemed far less hopeful. "The Zephyr's air filters have been acting faulty for months." She began. "The ship was long in the tooth even before the attack. They were bound to give out sooner or later, and no other ship in the fleet uses filters compatible with Zephyr. The refinery ship can provide the raw materials needed to repair them, and the machinery Pegasus uses to produce vipers can be retooled to make the more intricate-"
"Tory..." Roslin began, cutting her partner off. "I really do appreciate the effort you put into this, but we did the numbers on this very topic right after Pegasus rejoined the fleet." The color drained from Tory's face. She looked like a child whose project had just been casually dismissed by their parents. "The machinery on Pegasus is extremely complex. It would take weeks to install the new equipment, fabricate the parts we need, and set everything back again." Roslin slowly shook her head. "That's several weeks we're not building new vipers and spare parts. Adama would never go for it."
Tory's expression quickly changed from disappointed to frustration. "Zephyr is one of the largest civilian ships in the fleet! Over a thousand souls live on it. You're going to tell them their air quality isn't important?"
"We've taken samples of the Zephyr's air every month." Laura said calmly. "The filters are still getting rid of everything toxic. They've stopped filtering out the bitterent in the ship's radiator fluid. It's causing the awful smell permeating the aft section of the ship. It isn't pleasant, but it's still perfectly livable."
"And how long until their filters degrade even further?" Tory retorted. "If Galactica's air filters malfunctioned, you can bet Adama would have them repaired within the week." Tory protested. "With everything going on lately... Your executive order outlawing abortion, the tighter rationing..." Tory paused. "Frankly, the fleet is starting to wonder if you still have their best interests at heart. This would go a long way towards putting those concerns to rest."
"Their best interests." Roslin said mockingly as she stood up. She took a moment to stretch. "Everything I've done is for the best interests of this fleet. The resources to take care of everybody simply don't exist. Military needs have to take priority." She paced to the set of windows spaced intermittently on the sides of the room. In the distance, dozens of metal-hulled silhouettes floated among the field of stars. At the fleet's center, two great hulks of red and gray dominated the formation. Gazing towards the comforting view of Galactica and Pegasus, the only two Colonial warships left in existence, had become as instinctive as looking up to the stars at night.
Tory's face turned contemplative. Roslin's campaign for re-election as President of the Twelve Colonies had been doing exceedingly well, all things considered. Her only real opponent, Doctor Gaius Baltar, had been floundering in the polls. Until recently, that is. The man had set himself up as a more rational alternative to Roslin's recent authoritarian streak. Roslin still had a clear lead, but it was shrinking steadily with every recount. "There must be something more we can do."
Roslin gave a small smile to her reflection as she continue gazing out towards the fleet. "Fifty thousand people left in the entire human race, and I still have to worry about pandering to voters." She turned around to face Tory, her arm still leaning on the wall. "We'll tell the crew of the Zephyr we're not singling them out. We'll remind them the crew on the refinery ship hasn't had a day off since the exodus, while they were lucky enough to escape on a luxury liner. We'll remind them how the climate control system on the Aurora has almost completely given out, and their decks need to be scrubbed of mold every week. We'll make sure they understand how, in the grand scheme of things, the military's ability to get fighters in the air at a moment's notice takes precedent over a bad smell in the hallway." She crossed her arms with finality.
"I'll rewrite the statement." Tory conceded. "But we're still due on the Zephyr in three hours. You should start getting ready. We've got a lot of ground to cover before the debate tomorrow."
"Thank you." Laura replied gently. "You're brilliant at what you do, Tory. I couldn't have gotten this far without you." Tory's face remained unchanged as she stood up. Before she could dismiss herself, a distorted male voice beckoned for their attention.
"Madam President," came the pilot of Colonial One over the ship's communication system. "Admiral Adama is urgently requesting to speak with you over the wireless."
Roslin grinned. "Speaking of the admiral." She said as she reseated herself at her desk. "Go ahead and start getting ready. This should only take a minute." Tory nodded, and without a word, made her way out of the President's office. Once she was out of earshot, Laura took the receiver from its cradle and raised it to her. "What can I do for you, admiral?"
"I'm sorry to wake you, Madam President." Began the grizzly voice emanating from the wireless. "I'm sure you have a busy day planned."
"Don't worry, you didn't wake me. And it's nothing I wouldn't mind missing." She replied. "Is everything alright?"
"A matter has come up that requires your immediate attention." Admiral Adama replied simply. "We need to talk to you on Galactica as soon as you can possibly arrange."
The admiral's curt demeanor took Laura by surprise. "While I'd love to pay you a visit, as you said I have a lot going on today. Can't you give me a bit more to go on?"
"Not over the wireless." He said grimly. A tinge of worry manifested in Roslin's chest."This has to be in person. It's a matter of fleet security. And it's extremely urgent."
That tinge of worry began to grow. "Alright, you win. I'll start making my way to Galactica now. Just give me a little time to get ready."
"Thank you. I'll be seeing you shortly, Laura." The admiral replied in a marginally more upbeat voice. "Adama out."
With that, Laura returned the receiver to its cradle and wasted no time making her way to her cabin. A nagging voice in her head refused to let the admiral's voice go. Had they uncovered a Cylon agent? Was there a bomb hidden somewhere in the fleet? A thousand worries dashed across her mind, each more outlandish than the one before it. She tried to tuck the thought away as she put the finishing touches on herself and informed a now very annoyed Tory of their detour.
To Laura's surprise, Adama hadn't been there to greet her when her shuttle landed aboard Galactica. It had always been their ritual for the admiral to greet the President of the Colonies when she landed on ship. Neither of them had ever been much for the political ritual, but it gave a sense of normality that the fugitive fleet desperately craved. Instead of the admiral's worn face, a marine whose name Roslin was ashamed to say she'd forgotten escorted her to the situation room. He hadn't even spared an officer.
After several minutes of droning through sets of identical looking triangular corridors, the marine opened the door to Galactica's situation room and promptly dismissed himself. The room was lined with same dreary gray color that dominated most of the ship, with sets of monitors placed along either wall. At the room's center was a large table with a powerful set of lights illuminating it from above. A collection of photographs laid strewn across it. Roslin was immediately greeted by a handful of familiar faces turning to greet her. Standing front in center beside the large table was the admiral himself, and beside him his son. Also overlooking the photographs was the officer Roslin knew as Karl Agathon, and going over some sort of black goop pictured on one of the monitors was the Cylon defector Athena. The four quickly turned to face her as she entered the room. William Adama was the first to speak.
"Thank you for coming, Madam President." The man said as he walked up to shake her hand. "You look lovely today."
Laura smiled as she returned the admirals' handshake. She wore a simple off-blue buttoned outfit that she saved only for important occasions. "It's good to see you Bill." She turned her head to acknowledge the rest of the room in turn. "Commander Lee. Lieutenant." Roslin gave a hesitant nod at the exotic looking female. "What has me over here in such a hurry?"
"To make a long story short," Lee started as he pressed a series of buttons on the foremost monitor's touchscreen. "One of our raptors misjumped while on a mission a few hours ago, and You're not going to believe what it stumbled across." With a final click, the image of a magnificent blue-green orb materialized on the display. Roslin immediately took it for a planet, but not just any odd planet. It had great oceans stretching from one end to the other, and a series of continents colored with shades of green and tan. Great fields of white clouds dotted the world. Roslin's felt her eyes widen.
"It's a habitable planet." Agathon commented with obvious excitement. "Smack in the middle of its stars habitable zone. Atmosphere is oxygen-nitrogen, temperature stays within a couple dozen degrees Celsius... Looks a lot like Caprica, doesn't it?" The officer finished with a grin on his face.
"Before or after the nuclear winter?" Roslin replied sharply. She immediately regretted her tone.
"Forests, plains, deserts, ice caps..." Adama listed off. "Caprica's got nothing on it."
"And that's not even the best part." Lee continued as he turned to face Athena. "You want to tell her?"
The woman took a step forward at her name. She spoke with noticeably less enthusiasm. "The entire system is hidden by a nebula that sensors have an extremely difficult time picking up. Even knowing exactly where to look, we can't make it out on our star charts."
"Which makes it the perfect place to hide from the Cylons." Agathon added.
Roslin studied the image with an unchanging expression, her arms crossed. "This is wonderful. Fantastic. A place to catch our breath, stretch our legs, stock up on supplies..." Space was, by and large, very dead. The overwhelming majority of planets were gas giants or balls of cratered rock. Habitable worlds were vanishingly rare. The world displayed before them was more than habitable. It looked like a paradise to Laura. "Finding this is nothing short of a miracle, but... it could have waited another five hours. The way you talked on the wireless made it sound like the fleet's safety was in jeopardy."
An uneasy silence took hold over the room. Laura looked from one head to the other expectantly. Seconds passed before the admiral broke it. "There's one more thing." he said stoically. "We found something on the planet. Something we're still trying to understand."
Roslin raised her eyebrow. Lee resumed manipulating the display as he took a breath. "There were some unusual lights on the planet's dark side we were trying to account for. Not very bright, but you could definitely make them out. At first we were worried it was some sort of unusual volcanic activity, but when our birds went in for a closer look..."
The planet's image was replaced by a series of pictures clearly taken by high-flying reconnaissance raptors. They showed off stunning vistas that stretched for kilometers. Hundreds of oddly uniform shapes dominated one of the photographs. They were completely encircled by a circular tan line that appeared overlook the area. Roslin also noted they were unusually consistent. Laura studied the image with a contemplative gaze for a few moments before the pieces fell into place. The realization came like a hammer slamming into her skull. She clasped her hand to her mouth as she looked over the image in a new light. Those uniform shapes weren't rocks. "Oh my Gods." She got out as she lowered her hand from her mouth. "It's a city."
"An inhabited city." Lee explained, putting emphasis on the second word. "These circular structure at the city's perimeter are a series of walls. Big walls, actually. We can make out roads leading out to smaller villages and farms dozens of kilometers out."
Roslin took a few steps towards the display, her eyes still fixated on their discovery. "There's only one other tribe of humans we know of in the entire galaxy." She recalled. "Did we just stumble across Earth?"
"That was our first thought, too." Lee replied, seeming to predict her first thought. "We crosschecked the constellations we found on Kobol with those in view of the planet. They aren't anywhere near a match. It's not Earth."
"Then..." The president started, still gathering her thoughts. "Then what the hell are we looking at?"
"They could be an offshoot of the thirteenth tribe." Admiral Adama suggested. "Or they could be something else. Either way, the more important matter is how they might react to our presence on the planet."
Roslin snapped her head to face the older man. "I disagree, admiral." She said derisively. "Figuring out where these people came from could go a long way to finding Earth." She rested her thumb on her chin contemplatively. "Do we know anything about them? Anything at all?"
"We've sent a handful of reconnaissance birds, but they've all been high altitude." Lee started as he dismissed the image from the monitor. "We haven't detected any trace of artificial radio waves, radiological signatures, anything that would be indicative of a technological civilization."
"The view from above is spectacular." Agathon pipped up. "Completely unspoilt. Forests that stretched as far as the eye can make out, even from our altitude."
"Speaking of forests..." Lee continued, glaring at the officer. "Carbon dioxide levels are relatively low compared to what you would have found back on the Colonies. I'd say we're almost definitely dealing with something pre-industrial."
The president tilted her head. "They aren't space faring." She stated in a curious tone. "So how did they get here in the first place?" The question was almost rhetorical. She added it to the rapidly growing pile gathering in her mind. "How many people know about this planet?"
"The five of us and a handful of raptor teams." Adama offered up "We've been trying to keep it need to know until we have a better handle on the situation."
"That's good." Roslin said with a touch of relief. "The moment word of this planet reaches the fleet, they'll be clamoring for a chance to get down there. If the planet is already inhabited, it changes everything. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with before we start landing ships."
"Sounds reasonable." The admiral commented. "The last thing this fleet needs is a general uprising because we're refusing to let them stretch their legs." Adama shifted his pose, turning to face his son. "If I'm not mistaken, all of the raptor teams thus far have come from Pegasus."
The younger commander smiled. Pegasus, the larger and more powerful of the two battlestars, had been under Lee's command for a couple months now. "Have something in mind, sir?"
"I'm thinking of killing two problems at once." The admiral said. "We still have a lot of ground to cover on the planet. Checking the air for pathogens, making sure the water is potable..." He paused momentarily. "And scouting out the natives. Figuring out if they might be friendly or otherwise."
"Which would mean raptors making dozens jumps back and forth from the planet." Lee concluded. It didn't take him long to figure out what his father was getting at. "Unless we were to station a ship to oversee the recon efforts."
A nod from the admiral confirmed Lee's suspicion. "Everyone outside of this room who knows about the planet is assigned to Pegasus. Take your ship into orbit around the planet, while Galactica stays to guard the fleet. We'll keep the planet's existence on lock down until we know enough to take it public."
"Sounds almost like shore leave." Lee said lightheartedly. "We can be underway the moment I'm back on board."
"It's sounding like you have this under control." Roslin said, having calmed down from the revelation. "So if you'll excuse me, I'm due on the Zephyr fifteen minutes ago. Please, keep me updated on anything you find." She took a final look at the photographs sprawled on the desk. "This planet could change everything for the fleet. We need to watch how we handle this."
"Of course." The admiral said as he reached to hold the door open for Laura. "You're going to kick Baltar's ass tomorrow. I'm a little jealous I don't get to do it myself."
"I appreciate the vote of confidence." she said as she stepped out of the room. She turned to give the admiral a slight bow goodbye, and hastily made her way back to Galactica's flight pod. If they stepped up the pace, they could still get through everything by the end of the day.
Compared to the rest of the refugee fleet, Cloud Nine was in relatively pristine condition. Before the attack, it had been a luxury liner only higher class citizens could have afforded a ticket on. Its interior was unusually spacious and well kept, and the ship possessed one feature no other craft in the fleet could boast. Attached to the ship's hull was a massive biodome coated with a specialized conductive substance that gave the illusion of an open blue sky. The dome was home to almost perfect recreation of a planetside environment. It held a small forest complete with small wildlife, air filtered by natural plants, and some of the last vestiges of what life once looked like before the exodus.
It was from from a spacious suite on this ship Doctor Gaius Baltar examined a curious photograph. He stroked his chin as he held the picture between his fingers. Actually, it appeared to be a photograph of a photograph. The edges were blurry, as if whoever had taken the picture hadn't been able to get a clear shot. Baltar guessed that had less to do with the photographers skill, and more to do with the photo being taken in great haste. Centered in the picture was a blue-green orb floating in the black of space. It was a planet. From the looks of it, a very hospitable planet. The outer portion of the image showed the picture was displayed on a monitor built into a wall. Baltar raised his eyes to meet the man seated in front of him. "And where did you say you got this?"
The somewhat wrinkled man carried a smirk on his face. Tom Zarek had become Baltar's running mate and political adviser shortly into his campaign. It had been a calculated move. Zarek was one of the most divisive character's in the fleet, but also among the most charismatic. "One of our contacts on Pegasus transmitted it to us about an hour ago." His voice was firm. It carried power while still conveying a sense of nurturing care. "Shortly before the ship jumped away... for a training exercise." He put the last two words in airquotes.
"The last time we found a habitable planet, the Cylons were waiting for us." Baltar began, working through the implications. "Roslin could be trying to make sure the planet is actually safe this time before going public."
Zarek had begun shaking his head before Baltar finished his sentence. "If the Cylons were there, Pegasus wouldn't be. For whatever reason, Roslin's hiding this planet from the fleet."
"That wouldn't make sense." Baltar said as he straightened the photo in his hands. "The planet looks perfect. The fleet would be absolutely ecstatic if they knew about it. Why wouldn't she go public? Or the admiral for that matter."
Zarek's voice remained smooth and methodical. "You know how Roslin rules. She needs a boogeyman. If it's not the Cylons, its scarcity, or fleet security. A habitable planet like this would mean food, water, rest..." The man chuckled to himself. "It would mean she'd have one less excuse to impose whatever new decree she wanted. So I think she's planning to keep this particular find under wraps for the time being."
"Roslin is not an idiot." Baltar protested. "She would know she can'tkeep something like this away from view for long. And hiding it like that would be out of character for her. There has to be something more to this."
"This is our trump card." Zarek pointed out, ignoring Baltar's statement. "This is what we bring to the debate tomorrow. We use it to prove to the fleet how Roslin doesn't have their best interests at heart, no matter what she says."
"Do we really want to do that?" Baltar asked. "Roslin wouldn't be hiding something like this without a good reason."
Baltar had gotten to know Zarek well enough that he could detect minute traces of annoyance in his voice. "Gaius, this planet could be our fleet's salvation. What gives Roslin the right to decide how and when we learn that? You've seen our numbers in the polls. Roslin isn't going down anytime soon unless something big happens." He seized the picture from Baltar's hands. "This is that something big. Don't let it slip away."
Baltar stayed silent for a number of seconds. He took the picture back from Zarek's hands. The doctor gave Zarek a nod. Whatever it was Roslin was hiding the planet for, it couldn't be that big, really. He eyed the picture with a smirk, the realization dawning on him at this planet could guarantee his ascendance to the presidency.
Fresh, crisp, spring air. Karl Agathon took another deep breath of it into his lungs. They'd made planetfall an hour ago, but it would take a lot longer for the effect to wear off. The officer turned his gaze up. Leaves and branches swung gently in the breeze. Off in the distance, he could make out the sound of birds singing from the trees. Karl had almost given up hope of ever hearing that sound again. The sky was a deep, perfect blue that seemed to go on forever, as opposed to the chronically gray-green hue Caprica's horizon would take on for another thousand years. Karl ran his hand along the grass beneath him. It was soft, and alive. His group of three had brought their raptor down in a clearing hidden within a sizable forest. The area was remote enough that avoiding contact with the natives should be easy, while still giving them an ample location to carry out their mission.
Twenty steps ahead, Athena laid on her knees in front of a great lake centered in the clearing. She produced a dropper from a metal carrying case beside her. With great care, she dipped the tip into the water and squeezed. She felt Helo crouch beside her as she deposited the liquid into a small tube, then added a single drop of an opaque fluid from a tiny plastic bottle. She shook the contents. The tube took on a familiar, light green tinge. "Six-point-five, again." She muttered as she slid the tube in her satchel alongside a number of others.
"Should I get the lemons and sugar?" Helo asked lightheartedly with a smirk taking up half his face.
Athena allowed herself a small smile. "That's the third test from this lake. The Ph is consistent, low salt levels... It's definitely fresh... But I still wouldn't drink it without a filter. Not until the toxicology report gets back." The water was clear enough for the pair to just barely make out the outline of fish swimming near the surface. Agathon wondered if any ship in the fleet happened to be carrying a few fishing rods before the attack.
"We'll get the final word after we get these samples back to Pegasus." Karl said optimistically. "I'm going to go check on Nelson." With a pat on her back, Helo stood up and started making his way towards a man crouched before a set of bushes. Beside him were a set of neatly wrapped bags he seemed to be collecting. Within them were a random mishmash of items. Twigs, leaves, and very attractive looking fruits that Helo recognized as coming from the nearby trees. Those reports couldn't get back from Pegasus soon enough.
"Hey, we should start wrapping this up." Helo said to the tan-skinned man still digging through the foliage. Nelson straightened his back and rested his arms on his knees. Upon closer inspection, he had a curious blue stain below his lips. Karl raised his eyebrow.
"You've got to try these, sir." The man started. He held a fist full of berries close to his chest. Helo's face tensed. "It's a hundred times better than that slop they've been growing in the fleet."
Without a moments delay, Helo slapped Nelson's hand with no shortage of force. The berries fell to the ground. He yelled out an explicative as he pulled his arm away from his superior officer. "Are you some kind of frakking idiot?" Karl yelled out.
"Gods damn, calm down!" Nelson cried out. "I only had a couple."
"We don't know what's in them!" Helo boomed. "You want to be taken back to Pegasus on a stretcher?" He grabbed the berries below him and threw them over his shoulder. He shook his head as he stood up. "Grab your stuff and start heading back to the raptor. We're going home in ten. And for the sake of the Gods, don't-" Helo paused mid sentence. Off in the forest, he could have sworn he heard a branch break. The noise came again a moment later.
"Sir?" Nelson asked with confusion.
"Shut up a second." Helo snapped. The noise came yet again. The sound of something shuffling in the treeline. "You hear that?"
Nelson turned his head towards the trees. The snapping of branches and breaking of leaves seemed closer together. "I bet it's a wild animal." He said excitedly. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since we've had meat that came from a real animal?"
"Awful lot of noise for one animal." Helo replied, his voice tinted with concern. "Let's get Athena and-"
Karl's sentence was abruptly halted by a blast of heat shooting past his head. An instant later, the grass in front of him was on fire. The disciplined officer froze in place, remaining fixated on the flame with a mix of confusion and disbelief. He blinked hard, forcing himself back into his senses. He turned his head to see a set of figures sprinting out of the tree line in their direction. This time, he didn't waste precious time. "Forget the samples. Back to the raptor. Now."
The two officers made two paces before noticing a second set of figuring approaching from the opposite side of the clearing. Helo gritted his teeth. He turned back to find the first set of natives already splitting to surround them. They were clad in dark red and deep black. Gods, how did they move that fast? Their raptor was a good hundred feet away. The path was still clear, but that would be changing in a few seconds. They could still make it... Athena, where is she?
The woman had evidently made a dead sprint for the spacecraft the moment the natives made themselves known, and was seconds from getting to the raptor herself. Helo starred awestruck again as a red blast swung through the air and landed at her feet. Athena nearly tripped herself skidding to a stop, the grass below her burned intensely. Helo's eyes shot open.
"The frak was that?" Nelson asked in horror, sharing Helo's disbelief. That few seconds gap closed as the two groups joined to surround them. He could clearly make them out now. They were men. The red and black they wore was a type of metal armor, and they wore dark spiked helmets that left no room to doubt the intentions of the strangers before them. Helo grabbed the butt of his sidearm, pulling it from its holster, but taking great care to keep it pointed down. He could see Athena drawing her own sidearm and raising it into the air.
"Don't shoot!" Karl yelled out even as Nelson drew his own pistol. "Don't frakking shoot!" There were more than a dozen of them, probably closer to twenty. Far too many than Helo felt comfortable taking on with just three of them. "They're not armed." He observed, sounding less than certain of himself.
One of the men, a large, stout looking fellow with half his face hidden in a beard let out a laugh. "That's what you think." He raised his arm, and as if on command his hand set itself ablaze. A great flame hovered over his outstretched hand, once again causing Helo to freeze in place. "We saw you make landfall from our camp. Naturally, we were curious to meet our new guests."
"They're speaking our language." Nelson said in horror. "How are they speaking our language, Helo?"
"Not the first thing on my mind right now." Karl replied curtly. He raised his voice. "Look we don't mean any harm. We're leaving, and we won't come back." He could feel desperation in his voice. Though given the circumstances, it wasn't as if he had a whole lot of options.
"I'm afraid we can't allow that." The man boomed out again. "Seize the-" A world-shattering boom ricocheted through the forest. Dark red gushed from the man's throat. Now his own eyes betrayed a sense of horror while he grabbed for his throat in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. A follow-up shot hit him square in the chest, and he swiftly fell to the ground in a mess of blood.
"Run!" Athena yelled while she took aim at a second soldier. Helo and Nelson wasted no time turning about and making a dead sprint for the raptor. A set of bangs rang out from Athena's weapon. Helo pointed his gun behind him and fired blindly. At the very least, the noise alone might disorient them if they'd never seen firearms.
Unfortunately, the soldiers were quick to get over their initial shock. A blast of flame cut Helo and Nelson off from their craft. Another separated the two of them. Agathon turned to his aggressors in desperation, taking aim at them over the flames. He pulled the trigger. Then again. One of them collapsed to the ground. Two more took his place, firing a blast that struck Helo in the shoulder. Searing heat began cutting through the fabric of his flight suit. They were built to be flame retardant to an extent, but it would only buy a few seconds. He started hitting the flame with the arm of his uniform, but he was still fighting to put it out when another blast hit the ground inches in front of him. The shock wave sent him to the ground. He raised his gun in the direction of the figures, but squeezing the trigger was met with only a click.
Athena crouched behind the raptor, clicking out her cartridge and replacing it with her only spare. Blast after blast of fire screamed past her. It seemed to be doing a decent job of providing suppressive fire. Literally, she supposed. Figuring out what the hell was going on could wait until they were back in the fleet. If they got back to the fleet. A pair of men ran in front of her with their arms pulled back and hands clenched into a fist. They pushed forward. Athena's reflexes proved better. A small flame produced itself from their hands before a set of shots knocked them to the ground. She heard a branch break behind her. She swung around, finger on her trigger. Her eyes were blinded by a white heat, and her hands were doused in searing flame. Her gun fell from her hands. She dropped to the ground, screaming out in pain.
"Athena!" Karl yelled out just as a boot pressed down on his throat. He tried yelling again, but no sound came out. The sound of Nelson's pistol had ceased. The fires around him put themselves out. He fought with every ounce of strength he had left while the surviving men turned him over and begun binding his wrists and legs.
"You've caused us quite a bit of trouble." One of the figures muttered as he removed his helmet. A set of scars that looked like an animal had tried to rip his throat open ran down his neck. "But, I do suppose I have to thank you for the promotion. I'm certain the general will have many questions for you.." Helo never ceased struggling against his bindings in vain as his captors began carrying him away.
Pegasus had been a top of the line ship at the time of the attack. It's hallways and bunks were spacious by Colonial standards, and the Commander's personal quarters were no exception. By what normally qualified as living space in the fleet, it was downright luxurious. Lee Adama had spent most of the first half of the day going over the initial reconnaissance reports and personally helping to organize the first of the landing parties. Ordinarily, the commander of a battlestar would have no part in that type of micromanagement, but the CAG inside Lee refused to die out. The first of the landing parties were starting to trickle back into the great ship. He was going over the first of their debriefings when a soft ring indicated somebody was beckoning for his attention.
"Come in." He called out, setting the pages down on his desk. He wasn't surprised to see a tan-skinned woman step into the room. "Something I can do for you, Dualla?" Lee asked with a grin.
"Nice to see you too, commander." Anastasia Dualla said as she returned the smile. A few months ago she was Galactica's communications officer. Now, she served as Pegasus's XO. The battlestar's command staff had experienced a distressing string of deaths after the ship reunited with the fleet, and Galactica had been forced to dig deep just to crew her. The woman carried a thermos in one hand and a large envelope in the other. She set them both down on Lee's desk. "Have any cups?"
Lee raised an eyebrow. "Of course." He reached below his desk and produced a pair of metal-gray containers. "I thought you'd lost your taste for coffee."
Dualla's smile turned to a grin of her own. "It's not coffee. Just trust me." She opened the thermos and poured an odd, purple colored liquid into each of the cups. She reached for one. "Go on. Try it."
"You didn't lace this, did you? Eying another promotion?" He sniffed the cup. It was sweet, familiar. Lee's curiosity grew as he took an experimental sip. The flavor zapped him like an electric shock. The drink sent memories flooding back to him. It tasted like home. "It's tea. Real raspberry tea. How the hell did you get your hands on this?"
Dualla's smirk remained glued to her face. "My parents sent a box of it in a care package a couple of weeks before the attack. I've been saving my last couple of bags for a special occasion." She unsealed the manilla envelope and opened it to reveal a set of high-quality photographs packaged within. "I thought we could share them while going over the latest batch of reconnaissance pictures."
The commander took another whiff of the hot beverage before setting the cup down. "Sounds like my cup of tea." He joked. "When did these come in?"
"Our birds have been transmitting them as soon as they take them. Gods, look at this landscape." She set the first of the photographs on the table. Lee examined it. Tree's and water stretched for dozens of miles, if the scale on the bottom of the image was to be believed. Even from the raptor's altitude, the view was breathtaking. At it's center was a mass of green that seemed to stretch into the sky. From their angle, it looked like a single, massive tree.
"Looks like mush." Lee observed. "I almost want to say like a swamp. Terrain's probably too unstable to try landing a bird in that mess."
Dualla paused at the next image. Her eyes gave away a sense of confusion. "This one was taken near the planet's northern ice cap." She said as she laid the image down between them. "This next one's a zoomed in shot of the same area. Look at this." She placed a third image down. It showed off the same frozen ice sheets, only this time bordering the ocean. A huge chunk of the the ice right on the shoreline stuck out. It looked artificial, as if somebody had carved out a big chunk of the terrain. But it was the collection of barely visible brown-white objects floating in the water itself that grabbed Lee's attention.
"Those are ships!" Lee exclaimed as his hand rushed to point them out. "That's a city. A big one. How far north did you say this was taken?"
"About as far north as you can get." Dualla replied in wonder. "that's the edge of the northern ice cap." She turned the image for a better look. "That entire city looks like it was carved out of ice."
"An entire city?" Lee said incredulously. "Those are some damned determined people down there. How is that even possible?"
Dualla shook her head. "Apparently it is." She turned away from the collection of images to face Lee. "I still can't get over how there are actual humans down there. People who probably grow food, build houses, start families..." She smiled, but her eyes lowered. "People who've never heard of the Cylons... This planet seems a little too good to be true."
Lee took another sip of his tea, savoring the flavor as long as possible. The commander frowned. "Careful about jumping the gun too early. We haven't even figured out if the water's safe to drink. We've got a long way to go."
Dualla gave a half laugh, half exasperated sigh. "Can you blame me?" She let out. "These pictures could mean the end of this nightmare we've been living for the last year." Her hand grasped her forehead. "Waking up to a sunrise instead of a bulkhead is a pretty welcoming thought."
The young commander grasped his XO's hand. "Everybody in this fleet is feeling the same thing. Nobody knows better than us how tough it's been. If there's any chance this planet is what we think it might be..." He smiled at her. "Lets finish off those pictures before the tea gets cold."
Dualla's smile returned to her face, albeit not as strong as before. She took the next one from the pile. It's annotations indicated it was taken above one of the continents on the southern hemisphere. It's contents took them both off guard. It too portrayed a massive city, but this one covered in gray and black. Great clouds of smog obscured the raptor's view. A nearby river was stained with brown. Dualla raised an eyebrow. "So much for pre-industrial." She set it down with the others. "What do you think they're like? The natives. Do you think they'll be friendly?"
Lee opened his mouth to answer, but was abruptly cut off by the ship's comm system demanding his attention. He grabbed a phone off his wall. "Adama." He said into the microphone.
"Commander, we need you down in CIC immediately." Came the voice of Lee's communications officer. "It's one of the recon teams. Something's happened to them."
"What do you mean something?" Lee replied, his voice instantly turning to frustration.
"We're still trying to piece it together." The officer replied, clearly sounding worried, possibly for himself as well. "We need you down here as soon as possible."
"I'm on my way." The commander said as he slammed the phone back into its craddle. "Something's happened to one of the recon teams. We're going to CIC." The commander was out the door before he finished his sentence, with a worried looking Dualla trailing close behind.
"Reporter James McManus here live on Colonial One where we're just minutes away from the first of three presidential debates between sitting president Laura Roslin and challenger Gauis Baltar. I'm sitting with about two dozen others. Space is at a premium, but nobody seems to be complaining too much. I'm recognizing the faces of every political activist in the fleet. Reporters, ship captains... We just completed a very candid interview with the captain of the Hitei-Kan a few minutes ago, and will undoubtedly be playing it back later today if you somehow missed it."
The journalist shuffled in his seat with microphone in hand, blissfully unaware of the growing collection of people giving him a sour look. His words were being transmitted over the wireless to the rest of the fleet in real time. Every ship in the fleet would be tuning in for the occasion, even if the end result seemed a forgone conclusion.
"President Roslin has just entered the room. She's standing at her podium now. Sitting president Roslin is, of course, still dominating the polls by a fairly wide margin, making this a kill-or-be-killed moment for Doctor Baltar. Speaking of the good doctor, the challenger is making his way down the isle between us now. He's shaking the moderator's hand... Now Roslin's. It's looking like we're about to get underway here."
At the front of the room, Laura Roslin grasped Baltar's hand, giving a beaming smile as she leaned into him. Smiling and giving appearances had become second nature to her over the last year. She'd be proud of herself, if she didn't find the entire charade so despicable "I'm going to wipe the floor with you." She said just low enough that the microphones wouldn't pick her up.
"We'll see." Baltar replied with an equally artificial expression. It was clear he'd had a great deal more practice with masking his emotions. The two parted for their respective podiums at opposite sides of the room. The moderator, a dark-haired woman who looked not terribly happy to be there, gave a short introduction before declaring the official start of the debate.
The first topics were as important as they were mundane. Food stockpiles, air filtration, ship maintenance... Baltar maintained Roslin's administration had neglected many of the fleet's basic needs in favor of giving every spare resource they had to the military. Roslin countered by citing numerous instances of the military sacrificing to keep the fleet maintained. However, keeping their vipers flying and bullets stocked had to be top priority. Baltar insisted she could be doing more.
The conversation rapidly jumped from topic to topic. One minute they were discussing the degradation of medical equipment in the civilian fleet, the next they'd moved to individual rights. Baltar brought up Roslin's executive order banning abortion through the fleet. She knew he would. It was the only topic where he'd managed to gain any traction.
"Roslin never called for a vote." Baltar declared. She never asked the people if they thought giving up one of their sacred rights was worth the price. Roslin decided she was entitled to make that decision for us."
"As I've said, time and again, the ban on abortion was enacted to preserve the long term survival of this fleet, not to mention our species." Roslin countered. Her voice dripped with agitation. "A decision that, by the way, I enacted on the personal recommendation of Doctor Baltar while he still worked under my administration."
Baltar violently shook his head. "The only thing I told you was the outlook of the fleet. There were a hundred things we could have done to raise birthrates. Incentives, ration vouchers... You decided on your own to go through with the ban." Baltar raised his voice. "The entire way she handled that fiasco was just more proof of how disconnected Roslin's administration has become to the will of the people."
"Ration vouchers? Really? With what extra rations?" Roslin snapped back. "This administration has bent over backwards trying to at least acknowledge every issue every ship in this fleet has, even if we don't have the resources to solve them all." The president's voice had nearly raised to a yell.
"What, so you can bring a list to Papa Admiral on Galactica, so he can rebuff you without giving it a thought?" Baltar said mockingly. "Hasn't it become obvious who rules the roost in that relationship? It's the government's job to tell the military what it can and can't do, not the other way around. Do the people really want a president that capitulates so easily?"
"A few more repairs won't mean a damned thing if our vipers blow up in the launch tubes next time the Cylons get the jump on us." Roslin grabbed hold of the podium. She steadied herself, making an effort to lower her voice. She couldn't let herself get too heated. It would look bad on sound bites.
"Repairs aren't the only thing you've been withholding from the fleet." Baltar said accusingly. He straightened his gaze towards the audience. "I'm going to prove, once and for all, how far Roslin is willing to go to lie to this fleet in the name of security." He gestured towards a man seated in the back of the room. A projector screen unfolded behind the podiums. Roslin looked visibly concerned.
The display clicked on. An image came to life. Roslin's eyes widened in shock. It was the same image she walked in to the other day. The one of that blue orb floating amongst the stars. How the hell did Baltar get his hands on that? How did he...
"This image." Baltar began, his voice harsh and aggressive. "Was taken by a raptor some time ago. How long ago? We don't know, because Roslin has made every effort to hide this nugget of information from the fleet." Every person in the audience looked visibly shaken. Shocked murmurs ran through the room. "The planet is very obviously habitable. The Cylons can't be there, because Pegasus is orbiting the damned thing right now. So the question is, why is Roslin hiding a possible refuge from the Cylons from this fleet?"
The moderator struggled to keep control of the room. A dozen microphones launched forward. People were demanding awnsers. Where is the planet in relation to the fleet? How long has your administration been sitting on this knowledge? Is the planet truly habitable?" Roslin remained frozen. She bit her lip. That Gods damned idiot! She had to say something. Do something. This wouldn't go away. Roslin drew a breath. The room turned dead silent, waiting for her to make some sort of comment. After many moments of silence, the reporters got their sound bite.
"The planet is inhabited." Roslin said flatly. The whole room seemed taken off guard. Shocked gasps ran through audience once again. Roslin raised her voice to get over the noise. "We've only known about the planet for about twenty four hours. We wanted to wait until we had a better picture of what the planet had in store before bringing it into the public eye." She turned to face Gauis. "But seeing as Doctor Baltar has so graciously brought it to your attention early..."
"Madam President..." Came McManus. The reporter stood up, microphone held out. "You said inhabited? As in..."
"As in humans, just like us, are living on the planet's surface." Roslin mantained her emotionless voice. As far as the debate was concerned, every other topic was off the table. The planet was about to make every issue in the fleet small time by comparison. "They're less advanced then us, as far as we can tell. Probably closer to a feudal society than an industrial one."
"How much do we know about these inhabitants?" Another reporter questioned.
"Next to nothing." Roslin answered simply. "Like I said, we've only known about the planet for a day. We know they raise crops and livestock, build cities, villages, and roads... other than those broad strokes, your guess is as good as mine."
"Is this the thirteenth tribe spoken of in the ancient scrolls?" A dark-skinned woman in the crowd asked. She wore a brilliant necklace. From the look of her face, she was Gemenese. "Is this Earth?"
"Probably not." Laura said flatly.
"Have the natives given any indication they might be friendly?"
"We. Don't. Know." Roslin said, stretching her words. "We don't know anything. That's the reason I didn't bring this to the fleet's attention sooner."
Question after question came. Now Baltar could barely get a word in. On Galactica, AdmiralAdama slammed his desk and cursed Baltar. That damned fool had no idea what he was doing. And how did he get his hands on that intel in the first place? The implications didn't please him in the slightest. All across the fleet, every soul was fixated on Colonial One and the dialogue taking place on board. The name of the game had just changed. Life in the fleet would never feel quite the same, and only time would tell if it would be for the better, or for the worse.