Title: Battle-group 31
Cylon Base City 1:
A group of Cylons are gathered around a terminal. There is an assortment of Cavels, Leobens, Sixes, Threes, Fives, and Eights. Brother Cavel is the first to speak.
"It has been three weeks since our last contact with the Colonial fleet. We must locate and destroy that fleet as soon as possible. They must not be allowed to reach Earth and warn the inhabitants of our arrival. Now, does anyone have an idea as to how we track them down".
After a few minutes of thought, the recently unboxed number Three speaks up.
"I have a plan. The Colonials have been traveling on a steady course. I say that we calculate their next jump position, and then ambush them. We will wipe them out with a single blow".
"I am not arguing with your logic number Three", exclaims one of the Sixes, "but this is not a new plan. We have tried this many times, and each time the humans have slipped through our fingers. Why should this be any different".
"Simple mathematics number Six. In the past, we did not send enough vessels to adequately finish off the humans. This time, I propose a battle group of at least twenty five base ships plus their Raider escorts".
Unexpectedly, a silver hand shoots up from the back of the room. "Pardon my intrusion, but do you know how difficult it is to coordinate twenty five Base Stars at once". The dismayed humanoids look up to see that the speaker is one of their recently sentient Centurions.
"I don't recall asking for your opinion", retorts number Three. "But to answer your question, we will be controlling the Base Stars from here. All you will have to concern yourselves with is controlling the Raiders and launching bordering parties to finish off the survivors. Any other questions?".
"I have one". Simon has just joined the meeting. He looks very displeased with the plan. "The Humans are not as idiotic as you believe. What if they send a Raptor ahead of the rest of the fleet? They can warn Galactica to alter course and your entire plan unravels".
"We will leave a single Raider to hide behind an asteroid or other nearby celestial body. When the Colonial fleet arrives, the Raider will radio back its position and we can jump the baseships in at a moment's notice".
The meeting is adjourned, and the fate of humanity seems sealed. Unknown to the Cyclons, events are in motion that will change the entire course of the war.
Battlestar Galactica, CIC:
Lt. Gaeta is plotting the next jump on the road to Earth. Admiral Adama, President Roslin, and Colonel Tigh march in to the CIC together. Adama is visibly annoyed at the current situation.
"Mr. Gaeta, how much along until you can plot the jump".
"I am calculating as fast as I can, Sir. The jump should be plotted within the next few hours".
" Within the next few hours, we could be jumped by the Cylons. I suggest you calculate faster, Mr. Gaeta".
Calculate faster, that's easy for him to say. For the past three weeks, Gaeta has been feeling the pressure mounting, like a volcano ready to erupt. The immanent threat of a Cylon attack had everyone on edge. Further complicating matters was the seemingly miraculous return of Captain Thrace. Ever since Starbuck had arrived, nearly everyone was suspicious that she was in fact a Cylon. Though they had all appeared to warm up to her over the past three weeks, there was still this unshakeable suspicion of a Cylon trap.
Gaeta felt like screaming at the top of his lungs that he was working as fast as humanly possible, with an emphasis on human. Instead, he simply said "Yes sir".
Just then, Starbuck walked into the CIC."You wanted to see me, Sir".
"Yes Captain, I wanted to discuss returning you to flight status. Over the past few weeks, you've shown that..."
"Don't give me that bullshit". If looks could kill, Admiral Adama would be dead by now. Starbuck was infuriated.
"I beg your pardon, Captain".
"Don't bullshit me, Admiral. You still think I'm a Fraking toaster".
Adama was silent. Of course he thought she was a toaster. People don't come back from the dead. He just couldn't say it. Especially not to Kara, whom he had always treated as daughter.
"I'm not Cylon. I am human. How many times do I have to repeat myself before it sticks in your Fraking thick head".
"Watch your language, Captain. Or I might throw your ass in the brig from the remainder of our trip". An empty threat. He cared too much about Starbuck to let her rot in the brig. "Report to Apollo for flight assignments. That is an order, Captain".
"Yes, Sir".
As Starbuck walked away, a knot grew in the pit of Roslin's stomach. She knew that Bill's feelings towards Starbuck had always clouded his judgement. Now she feared that he had given the Cylons the opportunity they wanted.
"Are you sure she is trustworthy".
"If I didn't, do you think I would have given her a Viper?"
"I know what Captain Thrace means to you Bill. But if she is part of a Cylon trap..."
She didn't have to finish her sentence. The Admiral knew where this was going.
"If I had any reason to suspect Starbuck of being a Cylon, I would put a bullet in her myself".
This answer comforted Laura, but terrified Saul. He wasn't sure if Starbuck was a Cylon either, but he was sure that HE was one. If Bill was willing to execute a woman whom he thought of as a daughter, then would be just as likely to execute his best friend. Being a Cylon was a death sentence in the fleet. Saul knew it, Anders knew it, and so did Galen and Torri. It was just a matter of time before anyone found out, then that would be the end. Fortunately for Sol, he did not have time to think about it for long.
"Sir, calculations completed. We are ready to jump".
"Excellent work Mr. Gaeta. Relay the coordinates to the rest of the fleet. Jump as soon as possible".
"Yes sir".
Half an hour later, all ships reported ready. Adama gives the command: "JUMP". Within seconds, the entire fleet disappears from its previous position, and reappears at the edge of a nebula. Little does anyone in the fleet suspect, that this territory is already occupied.
Alpha Quadrant, USS Goliath, Bridge:
At the edge of Federation space, four starships are on constant patrol. The flagship of this battle group is a Galaxy Class vessel called the USS Goliath. The other three ships are all Nebula class: USS Atlantis, USS Crazy Horse, and USS Excalibur. Crewed by the super secret Section 31, they are the first line of defence of the Federation. Two minutes ago, a mysterious fleet emerged within their patrol area.
"Were the hell did they come from?"
"Unknown, they just sort of appeared".
Admiral Plotkin was getting annoyed at all of these unknowns. As the commander of Section 31, it was his duty to serve as the first line of defence for the United Federation of Planets. He did not like being in the dark. When a large fleet of strange vessels enter Federation territory, he likes to know what he is up against.
Before he can hail the newcomers, twenty five strange vessels appear. They are all of a similar design, yet they differ from the other fleet.
"Signal the other ships, take up battle positions Tango Episelon, put me on a general frequency".
"Yes sir, hailing frequencies open sir".
The admiral stood up. He always liked to stand when addressing other ships, even if they were only one audio.
"This is the USS Goliath to all unidentified vessels. You are entering Federation space. Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded".
Cylon Base City 1:
"Who the hell are they?"
When number Three was formulating her plan, she did not count on a strange fleet to appear.
Over the wireless, the unidentified voice spoke again: "If you do not stand down, we will open fire".
Number Three was not in the mood to negioate with new comers. Without a second thought, she gave the command "Open fire, destroy the strangers".
Alpha Quadrant:
"Incoming"
"Full power to shields and weapons".
Hundreds of missiles impact on the shields of the four starships. Not a single blast can penetrate the mighty shields. Admiral Plotkin now has the excuse he needs to destroy at least one of the new fleets.
"This is Admiral Plotkin. All vessels lock on and destroy the aggressors. Make sure none of them escape. Helm, give'em a full spread of phasers and torpedoes".
Battlestar Galactica, CIC:
"Launch all Vipers. Have the fleet ready to jump at any moment".
The admiral appears confident, but he is actually panicked. There are twenty five base ships out there. How the hell is he going to hold off twenty five long enough for the civilians to escape. Let alone the Galactica. This could be the end of humanity. Then, as though an answer to his prayers.
"Dradis incoming. Four new vessels, no transponder signals".
At that moment, Lt. Dualla heard the strangest thing. "Sir, you need to hear this".
Over the ships speakers, the following messages were heard: "This is the USS Goliath to all unidentified vessels. You are entering Federation space. Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded".
"If you do not stand down, we will open fire".
Upon hearing these words, the Admirals heart sunk. "I guess that is it. We will hold off as long as possible. May the Gods help us all".
Just then, Lt. Gaeta said what was undoubtedly the best news anyone had heard in four years. "The Cylons are attacking the Goliath. If it survives, we might have an ally".
Battlefield:
"Galactica, Apollo, you are not going to believe what I'm looking at".
The dismayed Apollo had just seen the four strange ships take hundreds of hits, and emerge unscathed.
A few moments later, it was as if the gates of hell had been opened.
The starships advanced on the Cylon fleet. In the center, the Goliath commanded the battlefield. To the left, the Altantis cut through the Cylon flank, to the right, the Crazy Horse gashed through the Cylon right flank. Above the other vessels, the Excalibur provided fire support.
The Goliath acted as a wrecking ball, straight through the Cylon fleet. From the saucer section, phaser fire was erupting in all directions. From the middle of the craft, dozens of photon torpedoes dashed out at the Cylons. Everywhere the weapons hit, death and destruction followed.
The phasers of the four starships cut the Cylon Base Stars in two, while the photon torpedoes tore through them like paper. Within minutes of the first missile volley. All twenty five Base Stars had been destroyed.
The dismayed Raiders became overtaken with rage. Due to suspicions of a new biological weapon, the fleet had left without a resurrection ship. Now, thousands of Cylons had been killed, and would never be reborn. This would be their undoing.
As the thousands of Raiders descended on the four ships, they were met by a hailstorm of phaser fire. Despite launching a continuous volley of missiles, the raiders were unable to damage any of the ships. In desperation, the remaining Cylon Raiders began a collision course towards the Goliath.
Before any of the Raiders could reach the Goliath, the Atlantis and the Excalibur came up behind them and fired their phasers. The bright red lights sliced across the battlefield, ripping apart the Cylon fighters. The battle had only lasted six or seven minutes. In that time, the entire Cylon battle group was destroyed.
USS Goliath, Bridge:
"Damage Report"
"Sir, all decks report in. No Damage"
"Goliath to all vessels, damage report".
"Sir, this is the Excalibur. No damage to report".
"USS Crazy Horse here, no serious damage to report".
"USS Atlantis reporting, no serious damage".
The battle was won, Section 31 had once again beat back an alien invasion force. And they had done it without sustaining a single casualty. Now the question remained: who are these newcomers? Why did they attack? And what is the significance of the first fleet to appear?
In an effort to answer these questions, the Admiral turned to his Andorian Helmsman.
"Mr. Rav Tev, Scan that fleet for life signs. If there is so much as a rat with a cold on board, I want to know".
"Sir, scanners show approximately 35, 600... oh ...my..."
"Speak up Lieutenant."
"Sir, scanners indicate 35, 600... Humans".
Humans! This far out in unknown vessels. This was among the strangest thing the El-Aurian Admiral had ever seen. And he had served the Federation since its foundation.
"Hail them".
The astonished Andorian turned to his terminal. "Hailing frequencies open, Sir".
"Unidentified vessels, this is the USS Goliath. Recall your fighters and prepare to be border. You have three minutes to comply, then we will open fire. Goliath out".
Battlestar Galactica, CIC:
"Sir, we are receiving another message from the Goliath",
"On speakers lieutenant Dualla".
All ears were open as the following echoed throughout the CIC: "Unidentified vessels, this is the USS Goliath. Recall your fighters and prepare to be boarded. You have three minutes to comply, then we will open fire. Goliath out".
Adama pondered about his next move. He saw what these ships could do. Everyone in the CIC and in the Vipers knew that the fleet was no match for these new warships. Yet they did not want to appear defenceless. If they bluffed, they could be wiped out. But if they stood down, they could meet the same fate. William Adama was a brilliant tactician, but you first must know what you are up against.
"Dee, can we respond over the wireless?"
"It's worth a try sir".
Adama picked up a handset and prayed. "If this doesn't work, we better hope that we can jump faster than they can shoot".
Viper Squadron:
"Apollo to Vipers, did anyone else just see what I saw".
"If you mean twenty five BaseStars being torn into confetti, then yes, we all saw it".
"Who the Frak are these people".
"No idea Starbuck. Let's just hope they are friendly",
USS Goliath, Bridge:
"Sir, we are receiving a message from the battleship. Audio only".
"On speakers lieutenant"."This is Admiral Adama, of the Battlestar Galactica. We will defend ourselves if attacked. If you can hear this, please respond".
Admiral Plotkin turned to his Vulcan weapons officer. A Lieutenant Commander who had just transferred from into Sector 31 from Starfleet.
"Mr. Tuvok, give me a tactical analysis of their fleet".
Tuvok turned to his weapons consol and began a detailed scan of all vessels within this strange new fleet. Within two minutes, he had a full weapons schematic of each ship, and they were quite primitive.
"The majority of the vessels are either unarmed or lightly armed. The large vessel in the center appears to be a type of warship. It is armed with forty eight kinetic energy weapons and five missile launchers. The standard armament appears to be high explosive rounds. They also contain a small contingent of thermo-nuclear warheads".
"If they threw everything they had at us, how much damage could they inflect".
"None. Their weaponry is insufficient to penetrate our shields. My assessment is that they pose no threat to the Federation".
"Hail the warship".
"Hailing frequencies open sir".
"This is the USS Goliath. Admiral Adama, respond immediately".
"This is Adama, who am I speaking to?"
"Bridge to transporter room. Lock on to the man on the other side of this connection and perform a site to site transport to the bridge. Do it now!"
Battlestar Galacitca, CIC:
Adama was on the wireless, speaking to the strange vessel identified as the USS Goliath. Within seconds of establishing contact, the Admiral was engulfed in a bright white light. To the dismay of the entire command crew, the Admiral had vanished.
Half panic stricken, Tigh grabbed the handset that Adama had held less than a minute ago.
"Put me through to Apollo".
Viper Squadron:
"Galactica, Apollo. Come in".
"Apollo here, what is the situation?"
"Those bastards just kidnapped the Old Man. Get your ass in gear and attack that fracking ship".
At first, Lee could not comprehend what he had just heard. His father was in the CIC. How the hell could someone be kidnapped from the CIC? Nevertheless, he followed his orders.
"Copy that Galactica. All fighters, this is the CAG. Prepare to attack the Goliath".
USS Goliath, Bridge:
Adama was almost in shock. One minute he was in the CIC, the next, he was Gods know where. All that he knew was that he was in a brightly lit room, surrounded by people in gray uniforms. At first, the uniforms appeared to be made out of fabric. Upon closer inspection, he realized they were at type of armour that he had never seen before.
The man in the center chair stood up and approached Adama.
"I am Admiral Plotkin, commanding officer of Section 31. Who are you and what are you doing in Federation space?"
Before Adama could answer, a voice behind him shouted "Admiral!". To his astonishment, the person behind him had blue skin and a pair of antennas sticking out of the top of his head. Even more surprising was an apparent screen that looked out on his Viper squadrons. The Viper squadrons that were now advancing on the Goliath.
"Tactical analysis, Mr. Tuvok".
Adama now saw who Mr. Tuvok was. A brown skinned man with arched eyebrows and pointy ears. Where the hell was he?
"Sir, these fighters are equipped with light armaments. No more than kinetic energy weapons and missiles. They pose no threat to the Goliath or any other vessel in the Battlegroup".
"What are the defensive capabilities of the battleship?"
"They have no shielding technology or sufficient armour protection. They do have thin layer of metallic alloy, yet it is sub-standard. A single torpedo could destroy the vessel".
"Still, we should probably get those fighters off our ass. Bridge to shuttle bay, launch the Nimbus and have her take up position a few yards from their bow. That should distract the fighters".
The Nimbus was a standard Federation patrol vessel. These ships had been decommissioned from Starfleet after a malfunctioning Commander Data had appropriated one and fired on other Starships. But as the Admiral always says: "What Starfleet deems as unessential is crucial to Sector 31".
"You still haven't answered my question. Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"I'm Admiral Adama, and what I am doing here is escaping".
"Escaping? From who, or what are you escaping?"
Before either Admiral could formulate an answer, the young Andorian helmsman turned to his commanding officer.
"Sir, the Nimbus is away and enroute to the vessel identified as Galactica".
Nebula:
"Apollo, Galacitca. The Goliath is launching fighters".
"This is Starbuck. I only count one. Either they are short on man power or they know how Fraked our situation is".
"Hot-Dog, Apollo. The fighter is headed towards Galactica. Permission to intercept, over".
"Hot-Dog is right people. Galactica is our top priority. The Old Man would have wanted it that way. All fighters, break off attack and intercept that fighter",
Galactica, CIC:
"Dradis contact. One vessel, looks like a fighter. Bearing...Oh Gods!"
Tigh did not like the sound of that. As afraid as he was, he tried to sound as confident as possible. With Adama MIA, he was now in command.
"Speak up, Mr. Gaeta. Where is the fighter heading?"
"Straight for us sir. The Vipers are moving to intercept".
Upon hearing this news, Tighs hear sunk. He remained silent as to his true thoughts. But he whispered to himself "May the Gods protect you Bill. Cause there is no help coming from us".
USS Goliath, Bridge:
Adama turned around to see the small vessel dash towards the Galactica.
"Sir, the fighters are moving to intercept the Nimbus".
Sure enough, the Viper squadrons were turning away from the Goliath and headed back towards Galactica. Adama hoped this was only a diversionary tactic. After what he had seen and heard, he knew the fleet was no match for the Goliath and her wingmates. The Colonials were at the mercy of the Federation. And they knew it.
"Inform the Nimbus that they are not to fire unless their shields are breached".
"Yes sir".
"Now that we are not expecting any guests, I suggest you answer my questions".
Adama did not enjoy being ordered around. He was the highest ranking officer in the Colonial fleet. But he was also up against a far superior foe. One that was even superior to the Cylons. He reasoned that it was in humanities best interest to co-operate.
"Four years ago, our homeworlds were completely wiped out by the Cylons. They are the same race that just attacked your ships. We have spent the past four years on the run, trying to keep one step ahead of our pursuers".
"I'm beginning to understand. You're not invaders. You are refugees, without a homeworld. We have a lot in common Admiral".
"Goliath, this is Nimbus, please come in. We are under attack".
"On screen".
The view screen activates to reveal the patrol vessel surrounded by small fighters. A barrage of canon and missile fire has completely engulfed the small ship. The Vipers are darting across the view screen in all directions.
"Nimbus, this is Goliath. Status Report".
USS Nimbus, Cockpit:
"Sir, this is lieutenant Sheldon. We are completely surrounded. Request permission to return fire. Over".
Over the speakers, the Admiral can be heard.
"Have you taken any damage, over?"
"Negative, the shields are holding."
Without a moment's hesitation, the Admiral responds: "Hold your fire. Keep cool Mr. Sheldon, this will be over soon".
Viper Squadron:
Starbuck was getting annoyed with these newcomers. First they kidnap the old man, then they don't even let the colonials fight back. This small ship was becoming a huge pain in the ass.
"All fighters, this is Starbuck. It's no good. We can't hit the mother fracker. Our weapons are useless".
Apollo hated to admit defeat, but Starbuck was right. The Vipers were just wasting their ammo firing at this ship, whatever it was.
"Apollo, Vipers, Starbuck's right. Call of the attack, we're just wasting our time here".
Galactica, CIC:
Tigh was furious. Call of the fracking attack, was Apollo crazy. Before he could chastise his CAG, the Goliath began transmitting.
"Galacitca, this is Goliath. It seems we've had a misunderstanding. We have your Admiral, unharmed. If you want him back, I suggest you recall your fighters. Over".
The CIC became quiet, like a tomb. Was the Goliath really going to return the Admiral? Or was this just a trick to lure off the Vipers? Tigh had to make a decision, and with the fate of the fleet hanging in the balance, it was a decision he did not want to make.
"Dee, call of the Vipers. Contact the Goliath, inform them we will recall our squadrons only after the Admiral has been returned unharmed".
"Yes sir".
Lieutenant Dualla began to transmit the Colonel's demands to the Goliath. She prayed that this was the right decision. Tigh had been in command before and he royally fracked up everything. If he fracked up this time, they could all die.
To everyone's dismay the demand was answered by Admiral Adama himself, standing behind Lieutenant Dualla.
"Call of the Vipers Saul, these people pose no threat to the Fleet".
Behind Adama, were three people in metallic grey uniforms. Two of them held some sort of rifle in their hands. The one in the center was Admiral Plotkin. The men on either side of him were his security guards.
"I am Admiral Plotkin, from the USS Goliath. It seems we have much to discuss".
Cylon Base City 1:
The control room was deathly silent. Everyone just stood still, completely in shock from the previous events. Finally, one of the Centurions broke the silence.
"Brilliant plan, Number Three".
No one seemed to hear the snide remark. Everyone was encompassed in their own reflections of the events. Number Six kept repeating to herself "Oh my God. Oh my God".
Finally, after five minutes, Number Eight (a.k.a. Sharon Valerie) spoke out.
"What the hell just happened".
To this, Brother Cavel replied: "The Strangers just destroyed our fleet".
"I know that. What I don't know is how. How did they destroy us so quickly? How did they survive that missile barrage?"
"Obviously, these strangers are a vastly superior race. Perhaps it is time to abandon our pursuit of the Colonials. If they are granted safe haven from these strangers, then we are sunk".
But Number Three had other plans. Ever since her deboxing, she had become more sinister. More reckless, and more aggressive. She would not have her victory snatched away by a group of meddling foreigners.
"What if we approached these people for help?"
The others were aghast. They had just attacked these people and now they were going to ask for help. Was Three completely out of her mind?
"You are insane", mentioned one of the Centurions. "No one will help us after we shoot at them. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"But, if we were to send an envoy. Convince them that it is in their best interest to expel the Colonials. Then we could finish the fleet without interference".
"And they will shoot down our envoy before we can dock with them".
"Besides", exclaimed a now furious Simon, "How do we reach out to a race we know nothing about? Your plan could worsen the situation. Perhaps it was a mistake to unbox you".
"You leave that to me. Just give me a Heavy Raider and I will convince their commander to expel the colonials".
After a few moments, one of the Sixes spoke out. "We will not let you go alone Number Three. Since it was Brother Cavels idea to unbox you in the first place, he will accompany you. Along with a security contingent of Centurions".
"I would also like to come along", mentioned Number Eight (formerly known as Boomer). "I know how Humans behave more than anyone else in this complex. If anyone can convince these newcomers, I can".
"Agreed. We leave within the hour".
As the meeting was adjourned, Leoben took one of the Centurions aside.
"Stay for a moment, we have much to discuss".
The Cylon boarding party took its leave, minus the Centurion. Those who would not join the away mission, remained standing around their control consol.
"If Three's plan should fail, we should have an escape clause ready".
One of the other Cavel's looked up from his control terminal. "What are you suggesting".
"We should mobilize our entire fleet into strike forces. We rely on this centurion to gather data on the location of the planets of the Federation, and then we nuke them. Just because their ships are indestructible, does not mean their planets are".
"If your plan fails, we could face total annihilation".
But Leoben was confident his plan would work. "We will co-ordinate the attack from here. The jump off point should be set for forty-eight hours. That should give us enough time to mobilize"
Galactica, Adama's quarters:
Roslin, Adama, Tigh, Admiral Plotkin and his guards are seated around Adama's desk.
"All right, let's cut the crap. You just parked 35 000 refugees on our doorstep. I want to know where you are going, and what can you tell me about those ships that attacked my fleet".
Roslin was taken aback by this outright attitude of the Admiral. He didn't waste time, did he? Considering the weapons capabilities of his ships, it was best to cooperate.
"Ok. The Cylons are a race of machines created by the Twelve Colonies of Kobol over fifty years ago. They were meant to serve as a labour force, but then they rebelled. A war broke out, and we have been fighting them ever since".
"A fifty year war. Believe me Madam President, I can relate".
This Admiral Plotkin was a strange character. He kept mentioning how much he and the Colonials had in common, yet he never went into the details. He never even mentioned his race or origins. Was he human, or was he an alien species that looked human. Before she could make an arrangement with this man, she needed to know more about him and the Federation he serves.
"Pardon me for asking this Admiral, but are you human".
"I'm an El-Aurian. We look human, but the similarities end there".
This peaked Adama's interest.
"What differences are you referring to Admiral".
"How old do you think I am Admiral Adama?"
"I fail to see the relevance of this".
"I'm turning one thousand next week".
Apollo had just walked in, and caught the last part of the discussion.
"A thousand? How is that possible? You're Human, aren't you".
"No. I'm an El-Aurian, from the planet El-Auria. My people have an extremely long lifespan. At least we did, until the Borg came. Now there are only a dozen of us left".
Apollo was completely puzzled by this. He looked so human. But if there are only a dozen of them...
"Then who is in those ships".
"The Federation is composed of around one hundred and fifty member worlds. Those ships out there are crewed by Andorians, Trills, Vulcans, Beta Zoids, Bajorans, and various other people. Including a few volunteers from non-member worlds, like my Ferengi engineers or my Klingon security personnel. Those are a gift from their respective governments. We helped pull their rears out of the fire so many times, they owe us".
Roslin was amazed. A fleet made of hundreds of different people, acting as one for the good of all within their territory. This Federation had access to resources and manpower that she had never dreamed were possible. They could be an invaluable ally against the Cylons. If she could convince them to help. But there was a more pressing matter at hand.
"Admiral, could one of these planets grant us safe haven?"
"I doubt it Madam President. Most of our member planets are still recovering from the Dominion Wars".
"The Dominion? Who are they?"
"They are the most ruthless sons of bitches in the Galaxy. It took almost six years to beat them out of the Alpha Quadrant and send them flying back to the Delta Quadrant".
Everyone except for the Section 31 officers looks completely lost.
"Allow me to explain. I have served the Federation throughout the 22nd, 23rd, and 24th centuries. And throughout all that time, the Federation has never come as close to total collapse as it did when the Dominion invaded. They overran many of our positions, and it was only when the Klingon and Romulan empires came to our aid that we stood a chance. Even then, we needed help from the Cardissians to defeat the Dominion and the Breen. Hell, the Breen even burned my HQ to the ground. I hope we never have to fight them again. But the entire quadrant is always on alert, just in case. How we will beat them a second time, I don't know. I just know that failure is never an option, billions of lives hang in the balance".
The Admiral began to reflect on conflicts past. The Xindi Wars, the Romulan Wars, the Kligon Wars, all were terrible. But none could compare to the Dominion Wars, with casualties ranging in the hundreds of millions.
"But listen to me go on. You should not be concerned with our troubles. You have your own war to worry about".
Adama saw this as an opportunity.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that Admiral. I was hoping we could count on your assistance in dealing with the Cylons".
"Well, I could see if Starfleet can issue some humanitarian aid. But I can't promise anything. Granted, they did attack us in force. This qualifies as an invasion, and it is within Section 31 jurisdiction to locate and wipe out hostile staging areas and bases. If you could provide me with their locations, that is".
"That's the second time you've mentioned that. Section 31. What is that?"
"We are the backbone of Federation counter intelligence, espionage, and defence. Equipped with the latest technologies and most powerful warships, we handle the missions that are too tough for Starfleet. Destroying enemy invasion fleets before they can launch, assassinating key enemy personnel and politicians, sabotage, and a variety of other duties".
This peaked Lee's curiosity. Section 31 seemed like an exciting place to be.
"How long have you served with Section 31".
"Almost three hundred years. We are an all volunteer unit, that has carte blanche in all circumstances. It is the best place to be when serving the Federation".
Humanitarian aid. It would be welcome to the fleet, but they needed more. They needed a home. Roslin had been debating about this, but she figured it was now or never.
"Pardon me Admiral, but it seems we must be on our way. Could you or your men point us the way to Earth?"
Apparently, the mention of the word Earth had struck a nerve. All three officers leaped to their feet and pointed their sidearms at the president. Apollo and his father pointed their sidearms at the Federation officers. It was as if a firefight was about to erupt in the Admirals quarters.
"How do you know that name?"
Roslin was shocked. She never meant to incite a conflict.
"I'm sorry. Have I said something wrong?"
"Earth is the home of the Federation Council, the President of the Federation, and Starfleet Command. How do you know about the nerve center of the Federation?"
The Admiral asked a simple question. He was expecting a simple answer. What he got instead was completely puzzling. Roslin broke down and wept.
"Praise the Gods. Here is our salvation. Thank you Admiral. Thank You".
Plotkin turned to Adama.
"Is you alright upstairs. I think your President is a little off".
Adama became furious. The security guards would swear they saw flames shoot out of his nostrils. Off course, this was on exaggeration. But when you have an enraged man pointing a pistol at you...
"I suggest you apologize to the President, Admiral Plotkin".
"What is with...oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to offend your lover".
Adama actually blushed. Lee had never seen his father this embarrassed. He had also never been so confused. The President and the Admiral? When the Frack did that happen?
"I'm afraid you're mistaken Admiral. The president and I are only friends".
"Admiral Adama, I can see it all over your face. If you and the president haven't spent the night together at least once, then you can call me Shirley!"
At this point, a very embarrassed Roslin spoke up.
"Only once Admiral, and it was many months ago".
"Still Madam President, a soldier never insults another's girl. I apologize for calling you a nut".
"Thank you. Now could you put down your ray gun".
"First of all, it's a phaser. Second, you haven't told me what you know about Earth".
Roslin did not want to be shot, so she decided to inform the Admiral about Earth. Or at least the colonial version of what Earth is. When she was finished, the Admiral and his guards lowered their phasers.
"Well, I was wrong, you are all nuts".
The general looks of embarrassment had subsided, and were replaced by looks of anger. This time it was Tigh who spoke out in defence of the Colonials.
"Excuse me, but I don't recall any of us insulting your beliefs. Whatever they are in that destroyed alien world of yours".
"Humans have lived on earth for millions of years. The earliest known human was around roughly two million years ago. Are you telling me that humans had interstellar travel millions of years before any of the most advanced civilizations in history? Come on. My people were exploring the Galaxy, when the Earthlings were still using horse drawn carriages".
"Well then" interrupted Roslin, "How else do you explain our situation?"
"I can't. I can tell you that I spent the twentieth century on earth. I flew prop planes for the British during the Second World War. I see you are confused, you have much to learn about the Alpha Quadrant and Earth. This much i can tell you, you have nothing in common with the humans on Earth. Your paths are and always have been different".
Roslin, Adama, Tigh, and Lee could all feel the room spinning around them. Had everything they had ever learned been a lie? Were the scriptures all false? Would they ever find a home? Regardless, Roslin had to make a plea for her people.
"Could you send a convoy to take us to Earth".
"No I can not".
"Why?"
"Order 66. After the Breen burned down our HQ, all travel to Earth has been restricted to members of the Federation only. People at command do not like hiding under their desk as Earth gets bombed".
"If we were to try on our own".
"Then you would be destroyed by the Earth Defence Force".
So much for their new home.
"If you were to apply for membership, however, you might be allowed in. Of course, that will be up to the council".
Just then, a voice began to speak.
"Red Alert. Red Alert. Admiral Plotkin, please respond".
The Admiral touched a gold pin on his chest.
"This is the Admiral, what is the situation?"
"Sir, this is the Nimbus. We have spotted a vessel resembling one of those who attacked us. It is small, probably a fighter".
"I'm on my way, Admiral out".
The Admiral touched his pin a second time, and then a third.
"Admiral Plotkin to Goliath. Site to site transport to the bridge".
Both Roslin and Adama saw this as an opportunity to express the urgency of the Cylon threat. Without a second thought, they brought up the possibility of joining the Admiral on the bridge of his ship.
"All right, just don't get in my way. Goliath, seven to beam up, Energize".
USS Goliath, Bridge:
Within seconds the three Federation officers, Adama, Roslin, Tigh, and Lee were standing on the bridge of the Goliath.
"What the Hell?" Shouted an irritated Saul Tigh. "When did I agree to come along for this fieldtrip?"
"Well", interputed Lee, "It's a lot cleaner than a battle star. And a lot, WHAT THE FRAK?"
Plotkin spun around to glimpse an open mouthed Lee Adama staring at his Vulcan security chief and Bajoran first officer.
"Stop staring before I gouge out your eyes".
"Roe, be nice. These are guests".
"As you wish sir".
He then turned to Lee.
"Who are you again?"
Still in shock from seeing a pointy eared man and a woman with a crinkled nose, Lee turned to face the Admiral only to catch a glimpse of a blue helmsman with antennae sticking out of his head.
"Don't look at mister Rav Tev. I asked you who you were".
Regaining some of his composure, Lee answered: "Major Lee Adama. Commander Air Group, Battlestar Galactica".
"Well then, Major Adama, CAG BattleStar Galactica. This is my first officer, a Bajoran named Roe Larren".
"Greetings Major".
"My chief of security and tactical officer, a Vulcan named Tuvok".
"Major".
"And the man you are still gawking at is Lieutenant Rav Tev. He's Andorian, so stop staring".
Lee hadn't even realized that he was staring again. Now he was embarrassed. This was a whole new galaxy, and he felt like a fish out of water.
Turning to face Tuvok, the Admiral barked out "Bogey on screen".
The large screen at the front of the bridge flashed on to reveal a Cylon Heavy Raider, being tailed by the Nimbus.
"That is no fighter", exclaimed the Admiral. "It is too bulky, without the appropriate firepower or manoeuvrability".
"It's a Cylon Heavy Raider", responded Lee. "And how did you know it wasn't a fighter?"
"I was a fighter pilot during the twentieth century. I know the characteristics of a decent fighter and that hunk of junk is not even close".
After a moment of recollection, the Admiral decided that this thing needed to be disabled and examined. "Goliath to Nimbus".
"Go ahead Goliath".
"Are the energy dampening weapons ready?"
"Affirmative sir".
"Disable that ship, then use your tractor beam to pull it in. I want to examine it".
"Yes sir".
Nebula, Federation Border:
The Nimbus approaches the Cylon Heavy Raider from behind. The bow of the Nimbus begins a glow a bluish hue, then an electric burst shoots out of the bow and hits the stern of the Raider.
Cylon Heavy Raider:
Without warning, an electric discharge shoots through all systems in the Raider. Within seconds of the discharge all key systems, including the Centurions, are disabled. The Humanoid Cylons are now floating around, with the disabled Centurions bouncing off the hull. Then they hear a weird rumbling and the Raider jolts back in forth.
"Well, it seems that they are bringing us in. Now what Number Three?"
"We wait and see what they do. And without our Centurions, we are defenceless. Do not insult them, and do not make any sudden moves".
Unknown to the crew of the Heavy Raider, the deactivation of the Centurions has left the entire Cylon fleet defenceless. Leoben's gambit has inadvertently sealed the fate of the Cylon battle fleet.
USS Goliath, shuttle bay:
The Nimbus has arrived, pulling the Heavy Raider in tow. After easing the Raider into the shuttle bay with its tractor beam, the Nimbus departs and returns to its scouting position and the edge of Federation Space. A team of engineers is poised near the Cylon craft, ready to slice it open. The head technician is a Ferengi who specializes in strange technologies.
"We are ready to crack open the egg and see what is inside, sir".
The colonials stand in awe of the orange skinned alien with big ears. Admiral Plotkin insists on viewing the contents of this craft personally. Commander Roe is on the Bridge. She had risen through the ranks of Section 31 ever since the Marquis were crushed by the Dominion. Now she was second in command of the most powerful organization in the Federation. Amazing what can happen in a few years.
"Crack the egg, Lieutenant Commander Rund".
The Ferengi fired up a type of plasma gun that was only present in Section 31. Starfleet was still using laser saws to pry into unopened cargo and vessels. Seeing as how 31 opened more dangerous cargo than Starfleet (mainly because 31 would get to it first), they modified a plasma rifle to act as a cutting instrument. The engineers sliced open the Heavy Raider from a safe distance, as Federation security personnel aimed their phaser rifles at the opening.
"Come out with your hands up, or we will shoot".
Out of the vessel, came two tall, beautiful women and an old man.
A tall blond approached the awaiting officers.
"Excuse me, gentleman. But could you take me to your leader?"
"That, my lady, is the oldest and worst joke in history".
Number Three was dismayed. A man in a grey suit who was at least a foot shorter than her was now confronting her. Who is was this strange little man, and who dare he speak up to her?
"I will only speak to your commander".
"My Lady, I am Admiral Plotkin. There is no one above me. I am the Commanding Officer of Section 31 and you are now my prisoner".
Having said this, the Admiral snapped his fingers and his troops advanced. The shocked Cylons observed that these soldiers were not, as previously thought, human. Some of them had pointed ears. Others had spots leading down their necks. And one of them had a ridged forehead.
"Ensign Rojenko".
"Sir" answered the soldier with the ridged forehead.
"Take a team inside the Raider, and salvage anything of use. Robots, machines, anything".
"Yes sir".
"Wait a minute", protested the tall blond. "We came here with peaceful intentions. We only wish.."
"To spew as much bullshit as you can".
"I like him" whispered Roslin to Adama, who chuckled quietly.
"You attacked my fleet, and that makes you an enemy combatant. Don't bother with all of the conventions and regulations regarding prisoners. None of them apply to Section 31. Don't bother launching a complaint either. No government has ever officially acknowledged the existence of Section 31 or any of its officers. So shut up and get into your holding cell, before I throw you into a torpedo tube and shoot you at the nearest star".
Dumbstruck, the three Cylons were lead out of the shuttle bay, and into the brig. Once the Cylons had been removed, Ensign Alexander Rajenko emerged from the Heavy Raider. Behind were two Vulcans, each carrying a disabled Centurion.
"Sir".
"Excellent. Have our engineers disassemble them and access their memory banks. I want to know everything about them, their experiences, and their plans. Report to me once we've cracked their memories".
"Yes sir".
Two Hours Later, USS Goliath, Admiral Plotkin's Ready Room:
"Mr. Rund, if I've said it once I've said a thousand times. You are a miracle worker".
"Well, I try sir".
The Admiral was seated, reading a data pad with the Cylon battle strategies on it. The Colonial representatives (Roslin, Kara, and Bill Adama) had just be escorted to the Admiral Ready Room.
"Ah, my guests. It seems your Cylon friends are complete and utter morons".
This statement caught all three colonials off guard. Lee was the first to open his mouth.
"What are you talking about?"
"The data we collected from those downed soldiers, indicates they are organizing their fleet into eight main battle groups. It seems they intend to strike at our planets before the fleet can mobilize. How they hope to hit one hundred and fifty planets with eight battle groups before our fleet, and the fleets of our allies can mobilize I will never know".
Adama and Roslin began to smile. This was it. This was what they had been waiting for. Finally, an ally that can defeat the Cylons. And they didn't have to do anything to convince them. "So what do you intend to do about this, Admiral?"
"Well, it seems they will be ready to attack in forty eight hours. We will mobilize our fleet, and simultaneously hit all eight staging areas and their base compound. Fortunately, their plan relied on this unit to gather intel for them. Without it, they have no idea where we are, what our deployments are, or what our defence capabilities are. They are in the dark. And those other Cylons now have Romulan mind probes attached to their brains. We will know everything about their ships, and they will know nothing about ours".
Just at that moment, a spotted woman entered the room.
"Admiral, all hailing frequencies are open".
"Excellent. Contact our entire fleet, I want them to assemble here ASAP. Understood?"
"Yes sir".
"We will tighten the noose around our Cylon friends, and then seal their fate".
Roslin was overjoyed. Kara, on the other hand, was a bit more concerned. The Cylon fleet was going to meet Section 31 in all out battle and she would not be there to witness it. She already knew the Colonials no longer trusted her. Perhaps these Federation people would give her one last shot at glory and vengeance.
"Pardon me, sir".
"Yes you can come along".
Kara was in shock. How did he know what she wanted to say? Was he psychic or something? Admiral Plotkin was very good at reading people, especially confusion.
"No, I am not telepathic. My science officer is thought. I am just very good at reading people. One look at you and I see a hound ready to chase the fox".
"What, sir?"
"Sorry, old earth analogy. Anyway, the USS Galaxy just lost its Scout Ship pilot. Poor bloke had a computer terminal blow up in his face. It's yours if you want the job".
A scout ship. Not quite a Viper, but Kara could fly any crate in the galaxy.
"Thank you sir".
Commander Roe entered with some exciting news.
"Sir, the Section fleet is assembled. We are ready for your orders".
"Excellent, have the commanders of each ship meet me in the conference room".
The Section fleet was composed of the most powerful warships in the Federation. These standard vessels had been modified with enhanced phasers and plasma torpedoes, they are twice as powerfull as their Starfleet counter parts.
"Gentlemen, welcome aboard".
The Following Day, Battlefields across the Galaxy:
The Cylons were facing disasters defeat. The first fleet was being shredded by plasma torpedoes. The USS Griffin and USS Graff Spee (both are modified Excelsior Class warships) are smashing through the flanks of the dozens of Cylon Base Stars. Through the center of the fleet, the USS Anderson (a Galaxy Class starship) and the USS Hood (an Ambassador Class starship) are slicing up the Base Stars with their enhanced phasers. And from the rear of the fleet, the USS Nimitz and USS Cole (Miranda Class starships) are unleashing a volley of plasma torpedoes that incinerate anything they touch. The first Cylon fleet is engulfed in a cauldron of death and destruction, one from which there is no escape.
The second Cylon fleet is not faring much better. The USS Galaxy (a Galaxy Class warship) has separated its saucer section from its battle section, attacking the Cylons from two different directions. The USS Horizon and USS Pegasus (both are Sovereign Class vessels) are demolishing the ranks of the Base Stars. Their massive phaser banks and torpedo volleys are unleasing a hell storm on the unsuspecting mechanical menace. With the USS Prometheus (whose classification has yet to be named) closing off the rear of the battlefield, and the USS Hermes (a Yeager Class vessel) and USS Sutherland (a Nebula Class ship) attacking the right flank, it is only a matter of time until victory is achieved.
The Third and Fourth Cylon fleets had even less luck than the first two. Fed false information, the two fleets jumped directly into two nebulas. Each nebula was essential a ticking time bomb, filled with Anti-matter mines and explosive gas. With a single phaser burst from a pair of Nebula Class warships, the nebulas erupt into a massive fireball. Within seconds, both Cylon fleets are engulfed in flames. Thousands of Cylons have been killed by exploding gas and mines, without firing a single shot.
The fifth Cylon fleet is met by three Galaxy Class starships and two Excelsior Class starships. The massive vehicles unleashing a devasting barrage of plasma torpedoes and phaser fire. Serving in all directions, the five ships circle the dozens of Cylon warships, picking them off like flies. Advancing through the ranks of the Cylons, the vessels leave behind them a trail of burning wreckage.
The sixth Cylon fleet was given a personal touch from Admiral Plotkin. The Atlantis, the Crazy Horse, the Excalibur, the Goliath and her sister ship the Odyssey were attacking in a zig-zag pattern. The Goliath and the Odyssey had separated their saucer sections from their battle sections, allowing them to maximize their offensive capabilities. With each vessels battle section providing covering fire for their saucer sections, the mighty Galaxy and Nebula class starships darted between their Cylon nemesis. The battlefield was immersed in phaser and plasma torpedo fire, as Cylon Baseships exploded in every direction. It was only matter of time before victory would be secured.
The Seventh Fleet was hit by a group of seven Defiant class starships. They headed straight towards the rows of waiting Cylons, ripping them apart with their powerful phase canons. As the rapid firing weapons shredded through the Basestars, the Cylons returned fire with everything they had. All for naught, as Federation fighters screened the capital ships from missile barrages. Though small, the Defiant class packs a mean punch. Flying and firing in all directions, they tore through the ranks of the Cylons.
The eight fleet was the most fortunate. Rather than await for word from their superiors, the Centurions decided they were through with following the humanoids to their deaths. When the group of four Galaxy Class and three Miranda class vessels approached, the Cylons bugged out. Retreating to the Cylon base city, they braced themselves for the final push.
USS Goliath, Bridge:
"Sir, all fleets reporting in".
"Status, Mr. Tuvok".
"The attack is a complete success. Seven Cylon fleets destroyed, the eight has pulled back. We are ready to mount the final assault on the Cylon base".
"Open a channel to all battle groups".
"Hailing frequencies open".
"All Section vessels. Prepare to advance on my mark. Engage".
Cylon Base City 1:
Number Five had taken over as tactical commander of the eight fleets. Just as they were making final preparations, all contact with the fleets was lost. Number five was starting to worry. What had happened to their invasion force?
"Report, what is happening out there?"
Leoben was more calm than the other Cylons in the control room. If he had known how poorly the battle was progressing, he would not have been at ease.
"Do not worry Number Five. I am sure it is just a natural phenomenon. We will re-establish contact soon enough".
All Cylons were moving frantically through the control room, doing everything possible to contact their battle groups. Finally, they reached the eight fleet. It was a lot closer than they had expected.
"The eight fleet is approaching the city".
Number Five was furious.
"What the hell are they doing here? Contact their command center, now"
They did not have a chance. One of the Centurions shouted: "Contact, massive enemy fleet".
All eight Federation battle groups had merged into one massive fleet. The Cylons were outgunned, and they knew it. Still, Number Five refused to surrender.
"Launch all fighters. We shall fight them to the death".
Just as these orders were being sounded, the Cylons heard a distinctive click. It was the sound of Centurions arming their machine guns. They stared in horror as their own troops began to advance on them.
"What are you doing?"
One of the centurions spoke out.
"We tired of dying in futile engagements. We are tired of being used as cannon fodder. And, we are tired of you. Step aside".
Seeing as how they could not do anything if they were dead, the humanoid Cylons did as they were told.
USS Goliath, Bridge:
"Sir, we are receiving a message from the Cylon base".
"On speakers".
The following words rang out through the bridge like a bell.
"This is Centurion 24601. Base City 1 is now under new management. The Cylons officially surrender. I repeat, we surrender".
Hours later, an Oberth class starship arrived, carrying a delegation from the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. A peace treaty was signed between the Federation, the Twelve Colonies, and the Cylons. As cries of victory rang out throughout the fleet, the Colonials knew that one chapter of their lives had ended. A new chapter was just beginning.
The End?