Before we go any further, let me make it clear that no, this is not the start of a full story.

Rather, it is the reposting of the work I had done on a sequel to my Battlestar Galactica/Stargate Atlantis story Encounter At Dawn before placing the project on hiatus back in November of 2007. I am only reposting it now due to the regular messages I receive asking about it. I have no plans to add anything new to this story at this time; I want to finish my long-running BattleTech farce before getting back to my Lords of the Rings/Fable II crossover.

After that, who knows?

So, please don't bug me about when this story will be updated, because the simple truth is, I haven't got a bloody clue if it even will be. I'm not getting paid for this, and I write what my Muse gives me.

This story takes place in an AU season three of Stargate Atlantis and four of Battlestar Galactica, taking into account the events of Encounter At Dawn, and you should probably read that first. As can be expected, both shows are owned by someone else (there is a reason why they call this fan-fiction, after all), and it may not be distributed without the authors express consent.

War Of The Gods

Starbuck sat on the swing seat, looking down the hillside as the sun started to creep above the distant mountains. Laura Roslin evidently had an aesthetic eye; the cabin had probably the best view on all of New Kobol, with the growing outline of capital merging with the deep azure blue of the Caprica Sea. On the other side of the city, above the rocky outcrop that housed the newly completed planetary defence headquarters and the planets Stargate, sat the squat, angular shape of the Providence, the Ha'Tak that Tom Zarek had managed to obtain in exchange for one of the Zero-Point Modules they had recovered from ruins of the Temple of Five. Once a sign of oppression and malice across the galaxy, the ship now sat as a permanent reminder of how far the Colonial Remnant had come, and supplied the city with much of its power.

That was one major difference between their position now and what it had been back on New Caprica: help from the Tau'ri and the Free Jaffa Nation had allowed them to start building a proper city. While the majority of the population still lived in temporary shelters, the prefabricated houses sent from Earth were a lot better than the flimsy tents they had been stuck with last time. Even now, with the few street lights still burning, work crews could already be seen moving about the city in the heavy engineering vehicles that the Tau'ri military engineers had brought with them. While the help the Thirteenth Tribe could provide was somewhat limited by the number of people who knew about the existence of the Stargate Program, the International Oversight Advisory had been willing to send them vast stocks of equipment earmarked for their own off-world programs in exchange for Colonial technology.

But the exchange had gone both ways, and Starbuck was looking forward to having a go at the new Mk. VIII Viper. The data she had seen on the still highly classified fighter put it in a class of its own, far in advance of anything they had built before: inertial dampeners handled up to 85-percent of positive and negative G's, while a Naquadah reactor provided almost unlimited power. Recent advances made possible by technology given to the Tau'ri by the Asgard meant that it also carried a small shield generator and was the first Colonial fighter with a working FTL drive (even if the scuttlebutt said it was based on a Cylon design, and developed on Earth by Gaius Baltar). Longer ranged rail-guns and Naquadah-enhanced air-to-air missiles meant that it was more than a match for the Mk. VII's they had been using, but production was slow and it would take time to build up enough to deploy a full squadron.

"Cubit for your thoughts?" A gruff but warm voice snapped her out of her daydream, "Or would I be short-changed?"

"You, sir, can have them for free." Starbuck smiled as her mentor sat down beside her, handing over a steaming cup of black coffee, "Just thinking about how far we've come, and how many people would still be alive if we'd found the Tau'ri sooner."

"Such thins are best not dwelt on." Adama signed, "I know Laura felt the same; that's why she stood down as President."

"I thought it was because you retired?"

"Semantics. Either way, it's something best left alone. We're safe now, probably safer than any time since we first created the Cylons." Adama looked at his surrogate daughter, "What I don't understand is why you and Anders spend all your time out in the wilderness."

"Two reasons." Starbuck sipped her coffee, enjoying the feel of the bitter liquid slipping down her throat, "I'm not that happy with the way some of the people see me as some kind of religious icon, and that's something I'm not cut out for."

"You, Starbuck, modest?" Adama looked taken aback, "Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Kara Thrace?"

"Oh, I'm still me, just a little... humbled and confused by what happened." Starbuck laughed, but there was a serious look in her eye, "And that's the other thing. Remember when we were back on Colonial One, and you asked my why I felt that this was the planet we should settle on?"

"Yes; you said you had a gut-feeling."

"I've still got it, Sir; if anything, it's stronger than ever. There's something on this planet that I need to find. I don't know what or where it is, but I'll know it when I see it."

"That's what, six now?" Helo asked as he knelt down beside the trench, one arm held out.

"At least." Sheppard took the offered hand and pulled himself back up onto the dew-covered grass, "And all of them have been depleted." He looked at the dark ZPM in his other hand, then tossed it to a waiting member of the scientific contingent, "Still, McKay seems to think that there has to be at least some round here that we can use, maybe in a storage room or something."

"So he keeps saying, but we've been here two weeks and we've found nothing but ruins." The Colonial liaison officer shrugged as they made their way back towards a grounded Tel'tak transport, "Kobol was abandoned ten-thousand years ago; it's hard to believe that anything could still be working after all this time."

"Hey, Atlantis spent just as long sitting on the bottom of the ocean." Sheppard countered as they stepped through the hatch into the warm interior, "And to the best of our knowledge, no one came here between the day it was abandoned and when you and the Cylons stumbled upon it."

"And they found just a few ruins." Halo shook his head, "I can't help but feel that if there was something, bigger, here that we would have found it by now."

"Have faith." Sheppard slapped his friend on the back, "They didn't know what they were looking for, while we do. Any if all these outposts we've found dotted around the planet are to be believed, then it has to be something big."

Earth was a contradiction.

Caprica had spent most of her life believing it to be a myth, but here she was, living on its surface with the man she loved and their daughter. Yet it was still a contradiction: while she had seen just how truly advanced their technology was, almost none of the native inhabitance had a clue. They lived out their lives, unaware of the multitude of threats that hung over their heads. She had, while researching Earth culture, read of something they called The Sword of Damocles, a blade that was supposable suspended by a thin thread, so that the person sitting below never knew when it might drop. Even on the twelve Colonies, there had been the knowledge that if anything happened to that world, then there were other out there were the human race would continue. Yet despite, or perhaps because of, the threat of inevitable demise, they lived fuller lives than any Cylon would have though imaginable.

It was, interesting to observe from up close. The job the SGC had arranged for Baltar came with a medium sized house on the outskirts of Las Vegas, an easy commute by helicopter from Area 51. The IOA paid them both as consultants on Cylon and Colonial technology, so they were able to live comfortable, all be it with round the clock security. It was no secret that the guards where there as much to keep an eye on them as to make sure they were okay. Yet despite this, Caprica was content: she had made a few friends, her daughter was healthy and she was married to the man she loved.

Perhaps the human race had something going for it after all?

Dawn in Atlantis was always spectacular: the sun rose out of a crystal-clear sea into a powder-blue sky, its light dancing off the water. The city itself, while beautiful at night, always looked its best when the sunlight first kissed its towers, sending rainbow-like ripples up and down the exotic alloys used in their construction. Then there was the affect dawn had inside the city: walls made up of stained glass and semi-transparent metals made up almost every wall, filling the city with a warm glow both inside and out. It was, Dr Elizabeth Weir was sure, the single most breathtaking thing she had ever seen. She stood on the balcony just off Stargate Operations, a large mug of steaming coffee in her hands, admiring the view. The city had changed a lot in the last year: it seemed that hardly a day went by without something new appearing as if by magic. The most obvious change was the fact that the city was now fully powered, thanks to the Asgard generators added to supplement the cities ZPM. There also three new low towers, spaced equal around the cities edge, each one housing an Ion-cannon that Thor insisted would each be able to destroy any Wraith Hive-Ship that showed up in orbit.

The sound of laughter drifted up from somewhere below, making Weir smile: now that Atlantis was officially secured and able to defend itself, they had been able to lift some of the restrictions about who they could invite to work there. The main change was that, for the first time, they could allow families, increasing exponentially the pool of people they could recruit from. This in turn required more support staff to help with the day to day running of what was now more of a small colony than a scientific outpost.

"I know how you feel." Athena stepped out onto the balcony, "I feel the same every time Helo goes off-world. Guess that's one thing we Cylons have in common with you humans."

"I guess." Weir nodded with a smile: she had grown to like the young Cylon officer over the past year, the two of them becoming good friends. "I take it you've dropped Hera off at daycare?"

"No; she still has that ear infection that's going around." Athena shook her head as she lent against the railing, "Dr Becket is convinced that her half-human, half-Cylon DNA might be the key to finding a cure." She smiled, "He's very good with children."

"Carson comes from a large family; I guess he must be use to it." Weir looked back out over the city, "So, what brings you here?"

"Another request from New Kobol." Athena sighed, "They again ask, humbly, that they be allowed to send a larger contingent of scientist and solders to Atlantis. They feel that they are being, left out."

"You know, I have a stack of request on my desk from every government on Earth that is involved in this expedition, and I'll tell you exactly what I tell them." Weir took a deep breath, "Atlantis is the single most important scientific research establishment in human history, and I will not allow it to be turned into a political football. And the IOA has final say over just who is sent out here, and they're more likely to agree to sending more of their own countrymen than any Colonials."

"I somehow knew you'd say that." Athena winked, "That's why I sent them a message to that effect in the last data-burst."

"You know, you're in danger of becoming a politician." Weir laughed, then waved back towards the control room, "Come on; let's go and see what our other-half's are up to."

Apollo always left a little uneasy as he stepped through the hatch: the Galactica would always be his fathers ship, even if he was now its commanding officer. Still, it was odd to answer the wireless as 'Galactica Actual' rather than by his old call-sign. The recently promoted Captain Gaeta was waiting for him, standing in his usual spot at the back of the room where he could keep an eye on everything. Apollo had been a little worried about taking on someone so relatively junior as his XO, but Gaeta had shown he was more than up to the task.

"Good morning, Commander." Gaeta nodded as he handed over a clipboard, "We've got a convoy of cargo ships due from the Free Jaffa Nation this afternoon, Captain Thrace is about to begin her first test run in one of the new Vipers, and we had a message through from Earth: they would like permission to test the FTL drive on one of their new fighters by jumping it into the outer system."

"All the way from Earth?" Apollo looked sceptical, "I know that they had help from the Asgard with their R&D, but I had no idea they'd gotten that kind of performance out of such a small unit."

"Well, that's what they want to test." Gaeta shrugged, "And I know a lot of our pilots would like to get a closer look at the commotion. I thought that maybe if we found ourselves out that way when they arrived we could offer the pilots a chance to rest up before jumping back..."

"And give Starbuck and the others time to drool over it?" Apollo winked, "What name did they settle on in the end?"

"According to the report Helo and Athena sent from Atlantis, they've decided to call it the F-402 Avenger."

The Tel'tak skimmed over the hills, Sheppard finding it strange to be at the controls of a ship that didn't respond to his mental commands like a Puddle Jumper. In many ways, flying the cargo ship was a lot like piloting a V-22 Osprey or a UH-60 Black Hawk: big and bulky. Still, the transport did have some advantages, like the ability to hover over a spot on the ground and beam down people and equipment by way of its ring-transporter. This made them invaluable for a mission such as the survey of Kobol, as they could carry a large amount of equipment and could be re-fitted with, admittedly somewhat rudimentary, living quarters.

"Over there." Helo point at a mountain in the middle-distance, "The Tomb of Athena's on a ridge just below the summit."

"Don't you find this a little, well, creepy?" Sheppard asked, "Visiting a place that sounds like your wife's berried there?"

"Not until now, no." Helo cocked his head to one side, "How long have you been sitting on that one?"

"Since you first showed us the map back in Atlantis."

"And I thought McKay was bad."

"Try and remember, this is just a test of the FTL drive." The mission controller's voice was calm and level, "No hot-dogging this time. Remember; you break it, you bought it."

"You crash just one prototype, and they never let you live it down." Lieutenant Colonel Cameron 'Shaft' Mitchell complained from his position in the front seat, "You're not a test pilot any more, Sir. In fact, now you're a civilian, I don't even have technically to call you sir, Sir."

"I'm the civilian who signs your pay-cheque." Major General Jack O'Neill, USAF (retired) reminded the younger man, "And if you do misbehave, I'll just have to have your back-seat take over."

"You wouldn't." Mitchell laughed, then looked over his shoulder with a hopeful expression, "You wouldn't, would you?"

"Hey, I still follow orders." Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter winked, "At least until after the wedding..."

"Hey, I heard that!" O'Neill protested, "Any more jokes like that, and you can kiss goodbye to Atlantis as a honeymoon destination."

"Sorry, Jack; force of habit." Carter smiled; it still felt a little odd to be calling him by his first name, even if they had been living together since he'd handed in his resignation from the Air Force, only to be offered the civilian directorship of the Department of Homeworld Security the very next day. Still, there was a wedding to plan for, and there was no way she was spending her honeymoon at his fishing cabin, no matter how secluded it was...

"Okay, we're approaching the test area now." Mitchell interrupted his co-pilots daydream, "Reactor at full power, FTL drive green."

"Remember to try and keep it below seventy percent." A new voice came over the radio, "It's not rated past seventy-five."

"I do know, Gaius." Carter rolled her eyes for the hundredth time, "I did help design it."

"Yes, but the fact remains that you don't know as much about Cylon and Colonial technology as I do, or the maths behind this kind of drive-system." Baltar protested, "I really should be the one up there you know..."

"And I'm sure all your friends on New Kobol would just love to see you again." O'Neill snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Come on people, we're on the clock here: much longer and you guys are going to start appearing on tracking radars not controlled by Stargate Command or the IOA."

"Sir." Mitchell and Carter responded at once, all jokes left aside as they prepared their ship for the test.

"All systems show green; we are ready to go at this time." Carter looked at her readouts and nodded with a smile; the development of the 402 had delayed her wedding, and she was looking forward to putting it behind her and getting on with her life with the man she loved, "It's your call, sir."

"Okay, let's get this show on the road." O'Neill sounded unusually upbeat, "Avenger-1, you are GO for FTL test. And Mitchell, you bring her back in one piece, or there will be a reckoning."

"Rodger that, sir." Mitchell killed his mike, cutting ground-control out of the loop, "I never knew the old man was so sentimental."

"I'm pretty sure he was talking about the Fighter." Carter winked, "He knows I can take care of myself."

"Don't we all." Mitchell turned back to his controls, "All systems go, FTL in 3...2...1...MARK!"

Starbuck felt a little strange as the launch-tube flashed past, but without the normal crushing feeling that would normally be experienced with high-G acceleration. Instead it was almost like she was just cruising along normally with the engine on idle. The controls were a little different, mainly the panel to her left that controlled the FTL drive. There was also a lot more computer power at her disposal, as sure a sign as any that the Cylons were no longer considered any kind of threat. Indeed, nothing had been heard of them since they left with the Asgard to find a new Homeworld of their own. Rumour had it that the Asgard had taken them back to the Ida Galaxy, where it would be easier to examine their cloning and resurrection technology.

"How's it feel?" Apollo asked over the wireless.

"Handles like a dream!" Starbuck grinned, "I could take on the whole Cylon fleet in this thing."

"I doubt its that good." The Galactica's CO laughed, "Okay, proceed to the firing range and we'll release a few targeting drones for you to play tag with."

"Rodger." Starbuck's eyes drifted down to the panel by her left hand, "Request permission to test FTL drive?"

"That's a negative, Kara." Apollo sounded resolute, a sure sign that he wouldn't put up with any of her usual antics, "We already have too much inbound FTL traffic to have you jumping about the system. Maybe next time."

"Who's inbound?"

"A Jaffa convoy and the new Earth-fighter; they're running some test of their own."

"Hot-damn! Do you think they'll let us run a few drills against them? I've read the reports Helo and Athena sent through from Atlantis, and I'd love to see one in action."

"I'll ask, but I somehow doubt it; you'll still not their favourite person." Apollo paused for a second, "Hold one." There was a longer pause, and Starbuck could half-hear a hurried conversation in the background.

"What's happening, Lee?" She asked, quickly checking that her Viper was fully armed and ready.

"We just picked up an unexpected hyperspace window opening on the edge of sensor range." Gaeta's voice came over the link, "Looks like an Al'kesh."

"Escort for the convoy Lee told me about?" Starbuck suggested, but a small voice at the back of her head told her that it was something more sinister.

"That's a negative; wrong approach vector and we were told the convoy was going to be unescorted." Apollo came back on, "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut your flight short; this needs investigating. It could be the Lucian Alliance."

"Gods, Lee, why don't you have me check it out?" Starbuck asked, already feeling the adrenalin starting to pump through her veins, "I'm already out here, and you can have the CAP back me up!"

"You've got our only Mk. VIII; every one else is still in the Mk. VII."

"And by the time I land, the fighter is re-fuelled and re-launched, they could be doing anything! Come on Lee; you know I'm still the best there is in a Viper!"

There was a pause, before Apollo's voice came back over the wireless, jump-coordinates scrolling down the fighters main display, "Gods speed, Starbuck. And try not to prang that ship; Tigh would kill me."

"Hey, it's me you're talking to!" Starbuck smiled, "Time to see just what this crate can do."

Colonel Saul Tigh had two main jobs as the newly appointed Head of Naval Operations; run the recently opened Admiral Helena Cain Memorial Fleet Academy, and oversee the construction of the Battlestar Zeus, the long awaited and much needed addition to their fleet. The last thing he needed was to be roused from his sleep less than an hour after he had finally gotten back to his quarters and summoned to the Operations Room, in what had been the command deck of the Providence.

"If this is another drill, then heads will roll, mark my words." He warned gruffly, "Okay, what's happening?"

"Flash message from the Galactica." Captain Kelly, his chief assistant, handed over a print out, but kept his eyes on the holographic plotting table that dominated the room, "They picked up an Al'kesh of unknown origin entering the system."

"I assume that they have tried to contact them?" Tigh asked, somewhat rhetorical.

"No response as of last update." Kelly shook his head, "Captain Thrace is leading the CAP on an intercept course."

"Starbuck?" The Colonel sounded surprised, "Well, it could be worst; at least she knows how to handle herself." He looked round, "I'd better call the President. While I'm doing that, I want you to scramble our alert fighters and set-up a CAP above the city: the Al'kesh was designed as a bomber, after all."

There was a feeling like God had taken the universe and stretched it out like a gigantic elastic band, pulling it until it was almost see through, then suddenly let go, letting it snap back into place. Mitchell was sure he saw the fighters nose stretch out into infinity, taking his hands and the controls with it. It may not have been the first time he'd experienced the slightly disorientating effects of an FTL jump, he doubted that it was something he would ever get use to.

"Damn, that always freaks me out a little." He shook his head to try and clear the last of the disorientation, "You know, this thins going to be of no use if half our pilots puke their guts up every time they use it."

"We're working on it, trust me." Carter reassured him as she checked her instruments, "Well, the good news is where roughly where we're supposed to be, at least within an acceptable degree of drift. I'm picking up the New Kobol navigational beacon, two AU's out."

"Anything a little closer?" Mitchell asked, "I could use a rest brake, and I've never felt comfortable with this in-built system..."

"Way too much information there, Cam." Carter cringed, then looked at the sensor screen, "Well, it looks like the Galactica's close, but they appear to be in the middle of some kind of exercise."

"Any can in a storm." Mitchell smiled as he switched the radio over to a Colonial Military frequency, "Galactica, this is Avenger-1, over."

"Avenger-1, Galactica. Stand by." A voice responded after a momentary delay, and the two Air Force officers exchanged a glance.

"Avenger-1, this is Galactica Actual." Apollo's voice came over the radio, "We have a security situation. Are you willing and able to offer assistance?"

Mitchell looked over his shoulder to Carter, who nodded as she powered up the fighters offensive and defensive systems.

"Rodger, Galactica." The pilot pulled his oxygen mask on, "Avenger-1 stands ready to assist."

To Be Continued?