The conference room was empty, save one lone form that sat at the end of the long, grey table. The lights were dimmed, just showing the glint of tan fabric and gold striping at the cuffs. The young man, barely 35 years old, sat quietly and ran over the information that had been delivered to him by his communications officer.

Fifteen.

Fifteen Cylon baseships had passed into space on this end of the time-space anomaly, and had set course for the point in space where they had last battled the humans….namely, the Kongo, Enterprise, and the Colonial battlestar. The Manchester was racing ahead of the Cylons, set to rendezvous with Task Force One (newly named by Starfleet) in less than an hour.

Meaning they had twelve hours.

The subspace relay in the region had, of course, picked this time to go on the fritz, and the message from Captain Piper had not been received until ten minutes ago. This malfunction, manageable in almost every other situation, now held the Federation and Colonial warships hostage…Starfleet would not be able to send reinforcements in time, and orders had been given for the Cylons to be met here before they arrived at the approaches to the densely-populated regions of the Federation.

Jim Kirk was an exceptional talent in commanding a starship, but he was dealing with the idea of commanding nine starships and the massive Galactica. He wasn't frightened by the prospect, daunting as it was, but he knew he wasn't the man to command a fleet of ships, in battle or otherwise. Give him his ship, and he'd follow the orders given him. Of course, he'd follow the orders sent to him by Starfleet, but there had to be a better way.

Such were the thoughts of James T. Kirk when the doors opened, and a figure appeared, flanked by the familiar silhouette of Mr. Spock.

"Captain," Spock began, "Admiral Adama."

Adama raised his head slightly, narrowing his eyes and looking at Kirk. "If this is an inconvenient time, Captain…."

Kirk shook his head and waved his hand, beckoning him to enter the room. "No, no….come in. Thank you, Mr. Spock."

The Vulcan tilted his head, and the Colonial officer came in, crossing the space between him and Kirk, and sitting down a few chairs away from him.

The eyes narrowed again. "Something bothering you, Captain?"

Jim Kirk smiled at the rough voice, recognizing the older man's intuition. "The way you as that question" he began, "reminds me of how my dad would ask that question."

Adama didn't smile, but he looked down, eyes full of thoughts. "In some ways, you remind me of my son, Lee. Talented, young, full of experiences, and able to do anything you wish to do." He paused for a moment. "You are more focused, though…..more aware of who you are and where you want to be in the universe. Lee….he's still trying to find his place." The sad timbre of the voice was reflected somewhat in the eyes, and in the way the lines around them turned and changed as he thought of his son.

Kirk looked at the older man. "Do you have any other children?"

"One more son…..Zac….he died in pilot training."

The pain Adama felt seemed to firm him up, and he straightened to look at the younger man. "But, I've been lucky. I have family left to me."

Kirk nodded. "Admiral…..I want you to take command of the task force."

Adama didn't outwardly react to the suggestion, but he was surprised. "Why?"

Kirk didn't pause. "You are the only commander in place that has real experience fighting the Cylons, and you have experience commanding multiple ships." The last was a guess, but since Adama was an admiral, Kirk thought it a good chance he'd commanded a fleet, or something familiar. "If you refuse, I will not hold it against you. I understand the position might be uncomfortable to you, and if there was another solution to what I see as a problem in fighting them, I would jump at it. It's highly irregular, as you are not a Federation commander, but I think it's our best choice."

Adama sighed, and looked hard at Kirk. "You don't have a problem of confidence, Captain. You have a problem with the orders. You don't want to command the task force."

Kirk slowly nodded. "True," he mused, "but I'm not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth and do nothing. To me, this solves two problems. It allows all of us to work to our strengths."

"Are you the most experienced Federation commander on site?"

Kirk nodded. "Longest by more than a year."

Sagely, Adama nodded. Jim Kirk was, by all means, an exemplary starship commander…..you could see it in how he carried himself and in how his crew held themselves. It was what he wanted to be, and what he believed, deep down, he was born to do. Adama knew a few battlestar commanders that were like that. The best of that bunch, he knew, were the one in a thousand that, like the young man in front of him, weren't battle-hungry or hyper-focused on promotion or fame. Jim Kirk, for all of his confidence, had humility, and knew what he was.

Jim Kirk saw the deliberation behind the wizened eyes. "I can make a difference," he said, pausing for a second and pointing to the doorway, "in that chair." It was almost a plea, from one commander to another.

"Very well," Adama said, looking at his lap. "I will do so. I need to have an idea of what your starships are capable of in realspace. My plan will be very general, and will leave the ship captains a fair amount of leeway in the execution of the battle." He looked up at the Federation captain. "I was told that you received a communication from your picket ship."

Kirk nodded. "The Cylons will be here in twelve hours, give or take."

Adama blinked at that. "We have five capital ships, and four escorts, plus the Galactica. What are we facing?"

Kirk locked his eyes on the Colonial. "Fifteen."

"Fifteen." Adama's repetition hung in the air like a death knell. "We can't hold off fifteen baseships. We had a problem with three. Is there a way we can withdrawal or reinforce?"

Kirk shook his head. "Our orders are to meet them here, away from the core Federation systems. Starships are on the way, but they will not be here in time."

"Except to pick up the pieces," Adama bitterly added. "Fifteen…"

He stood up and stepped away from the table, a frown on his face as he played the scenario over in his mind.

After a few moments, Adama tilted his head, frozen as an idea formed in his head. "The largest problem we have is the fighter contingent onboard the Cylon baseships," he began.

"Correct. I'm confident that we have the capability to defeat them ship-to-ship."

Kirk stood up and walked to where Adama had paced. "You have an idea?"

"We use the Galactica as bait. Tie up their fighters and their attention. We can't track you when you use your FTL drives, and neither can the Cylons. Maybe keep one of your starships with the Galactica, lend a bit of credence to the trap," Adama told him. "Once fully engaged, the Federation starships can arrive and initiate their attack."

Kirk gave it some thought. "Fifteen on one? Even for a short time, that might be too much for you to handle."

Adama nodded, looking up with his characteristic intensity. "Maybe. It's dependent on how well we set the trap. Galactica's job will be to occupy the fighters while your ships gain tactical surprise."

"Enterprise will stay with Galactica," Kirk said. "We were with you when the three baseships attacked."

"Makes sense."

There was another pause, as the two men silently stood, appraising each other.

"Let's get the other ship captains over here," Adama responded. "Let's get them on the same page."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thirty minutes after the Manchester arrived, her captain was walking down the corridor and to the Enterprise conference room. Once she entered, she was offered coffee and she took a cup with a nod to the server.

She noted Captains McAfee of the Hood, Huggins of the Republic, and Evans of the Yorktown….all young captains (like herself). The other ships were represented as well by their captains, and she worked on recalling their names to memory. After a few seconds, she sighed inwardly and plunged in, shaking hands and nodding greetings to the assembled commanders.

In the front of the room, James Kirk and an older man in a blue uniform were talking together, a small distance away from the nearest group. Deciding that that group looked the most promising, she made her way towards them.

Jim Kirk noticed her first. "Captain Piper…welcome. This is Admiral William Adama, the commander of the Battlestar Galactica."

They shook hands, Piper grasping Adama's hand firmly. "My pleasure, Sir."

The older man nodded. "Thank you. For your early warning as well."

Piper nodded, the statement flipping a switch in her mind. "Thank you, Admiral," she responded to Adama, then she turned to Kirk. "Captain, we managed to get a long-range scan of the subspace relay. We picked enough evidence to say it was some sort of disruptor fire…..probably Romulan, given the area."

"Romulan?"

Kirk turned to Adama. "Another insterstellar civilization, politically aligned against the Federation at this time. They are of the same species as Mr. Spock, though a sect with a different belief system."

"Aliens? It's good you found us first, Captain," Adama told him. "It's actually been a hell of a surprise that my people haven't reacted strongly to the different species that have been onboard the Galactica from the Enterprise."

Kirk furrowed his brow. "Why?"

Adama gave him a wry look. "We can discuss that later, Captain. It's a long story. Suffice to say, my people have not been exposed to other species of interstellar life."

Kirk nodded, filing away the unasked questions as he turned and strode to the head of the table. "Ladies, gentlemen……let's be seated and start the meeting."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the meeting was going on, Mr. Spock had gone to the Galactica to aid the technical team and work up the newly-installed sensor array. Making his way to the command area, he met up with Lt. Gaeta, who was on his way to relieve the OOD watch.

"You are one of the Federation officers?"

Spock looked at him, but continued walking. "I am."

"We were told that you were from a different species…a Volcom?"

"I am a Vulcan," Spock corrected the Colonial officer, "and that is a different species. However, I am half-human….my mother is human, my father is Vulcan."

Gaeta nodded, turning the information over in his head, more intrigued than spooked by the revelation that there was intelligent life other than human. "How would a human woman meet a Vulcan and fall in love?"

Spock turned, stepped through an open hatch, and walked into the command center. "My mother was a linguist, and my father an ambassador to earth. Their meeting was a logical occurrence, given their job duties."

Gaeta met for a few seconds to transfer the watch, and returned to Mr. Spock's side after a minute, continuing to make small talk. "I bet you're happy about that, aren't you?"

Spock looked at Gaeta. "No. Happiness is an emotion. Vulcans," he said, "utilize logic when interacting with others and life. So, I experience no happiness at the fact that my parents met. It is fortuitous where my existence is concerned, but I am not 'happy' about it."

"Oh," Felix answered, a bit put off.

Spock sighed imperceptibly. "Mr. Gaeta," he began, "please do not understand my answer as a 'brush-off', as Dr. McCoy would say. In fact, I had some questions for you about your FTL drive."

Gaeta brightened up. "Yes…absolutely! I had some as well. Go ahead."

"Explain the steps you take to plot your entry and exit into warp space."

Gaeta furrowed his brow. "Warp space? We don't call it that," he hesitatingly said, "but we plot it like this….."

The lieutenant went through the process, plotting it on paper and then into the navigational computer. Once done, he looked up at Spock. "We then send coordinates to the fleet, spin up the FTL drives, and jump when the old man gives the order."

Spock took a second to ponder the use of the term 'old man', and made an estimate on how old Jim Kirk would be when they starting using that epithet when referring to him. "How much subjective time passes when you jump?"

Gaeta peered at Spock. "Subjective time? Jumps are instantaneous. I mean, speed isn't infinite, but we jump, and we're done."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating. We can track you as you jump, so from our vantage point, your transit through warp space does take time, but to you, on your ship, the jump is instantaneous."

They stood in silence for a moment. "That would mean that the warp field you generate," Spock said, "is more like an expanding bubble than a field. I will have to explore this further, but I have some theories."

Gaeta was fascinated. "So, when your ships engage your FTL, you are aware of the passage of time?"

Spock nodded. "Yes. And your ships chronometers are set to a local standard….they are subject to relativity as well, so they would not measure the passage of local time as the observers from afar would see it."

Fascination turned to frowning confusion. "What does that mean? We aren't measuring the time we've spent while our FTL drives are in use?"

"Precisely. Given the distance you've traveled, and the time you spent in realspace, we could estimate the time you've been in transit….in constant terms."

"I can get that information together for you, Mr. Spock. I think the Admiral would be interested in that information," Gaeta told him."

A buzzing sound alerted Gaeta to the OOD handset, and he picked it up. "This is the officer of the deck."

"Lieutenant, this is Chief Tyrol. The Starfleet engineer said to go ahead and reset the DRADIS to default and check the display."

"Acknowledged, Chief." Gaeta lowered the handset. "Reset DRADIS and set scan for default parameters."

"Aye, Sir." Spock and Gaeta turned to look at the screens, and they blinked dark, then lit up with a slightly different screen. Structurally, the screen was the same, but the bottom two sectors were black, above it were dark blue.

Gaeta pulled the handset back up to his ear. "It's…different all right."

Tyrol chuckled. "Scotty said to toggle the DRADIS to long range."

Gaeta gave the order, and the screen changed…not, almost the entire background was blue, save for a small cluster of points at the top-right of the screen. After a moment, DRADIS identified them as Cylon baseships.

The bridge went silent. Gaeta counted them off slowly. "How far away are these baseships?"

"11.97 hours," Spock answered. "Your Admiral is designing a battle plan onboard Enterprise as we speak onboard Enterprise."

"How far are we seeing?"

Spock looked up at the DRADIS and did some math in his head. "One-point-seven-three-four trillion miles, or approximately two light-months."

Gaeta leaned forward, digesting that. "And they are using their FTL drives?"

"Correct."

"DRADIS only sees one light minute away in normal mode. Can we switch back to our normal mode?"

Tyrol spoke up through the handset. "We're going to configure the interface at the DRADIS control center so that we can toggle between the long-range views and standard DRADIS. We'll have it done in two hours."

"OK..Gaeta out." He hung up the headset and looked at Spock. "I don't know what our odds are against fifteen base ships."

"Approximately 8.2 to one," he responded, "but you do not know James Kirk as I do."

That brought a quizzical stare as the Vulcan continued working.