Command Center
Circe Base, January 24th, 3050
"Yes, I know it's been a while, Major, but there is no reason to believe that anything untoward has occurred, we were told that there might be a delay of up to two weeks before they'd arrive back." came from the comm.
"I know that, Sir, but combined with the report from that Scout that showed up here earlier, I think there is a definate possibility of their being a hostile force nearby." Major Piachi said, sounding slightly frustrated.
"We are already at DEFCON-2, and are maintaining as tight a sensor watch as we can." came the response. "Stay frosty, Major, we are not upgrading the Alert status at this time, clear?"
"Clear, Sir." she replied, flatly and looking somewhat disgruntled. Around her, in the spacious central command post of the Base, technicians worked at consoles surrounding an immense holoviewer which currently displayed a slightly abstracted system display, tracking every object within 15 AU of the Base.
--
Battlestar Galactica
Deep Space, January 25th, 3050
Election Day. It really wasn't all that different from any other day, in the crowded fleet of refugee ships and aboard the two Battlestar's, but there was a feeling in the air, an energy... Each ship handled their own tallies, and the voting was brisk, with reporters covering the stories and interviewing people before promptly broadcasting their predictions.
By the evening, a definate pattern was emerging. Baltar had never really developed much traction, there were no issues he had been able to exploit apart from Roslin's stance on abortion, and even that had fizzled out in the sudden glow from the discovery of the Thirteenth Colony. As the first returns came in, it was obvious that Roslin was headed for a landslide victory, and even before the counting had been completed, Baltar had already conceded the race.
A half hour later, the newly reelected President Roslin stepped up to a podium, the cameras of the reporters focused on her.
--
Cylon BaseStar
Deep Space, HDU-54.3, January 25th, 3050
"Still nothing solid, sensor ghosts here and there, but nothing else." Simor reported, sounding frustrated. "Had a possible DRADIS contact, but when we sent in Raiders there was nothing there. This system is simply too densely filled with asteroids and dust for long-range sensors to be effective at all."
Boomer nodded, looking around at the faces of the other leaders of their respective models. "That contact was way out to the system north, and with the configuration of the orbital debris... directly back along the vector that ship was on."
Caprica-Six nodded, then leaned forward, looking around as well. "I propose we leave a Heavy Raider to watch this area and jump the BaseStar to near that point, it's the only tentative clue we've had at all since arriving here."
The Five snorted "Now you are chasing shadows! First it was 'we were wrong' in eliminating those flawed creations, then it was 'lets leave them alone in peace' and now it's 'Lets chase shadows and pretend we are accomplishing something. Frak it, you two 'Heroes' have been"
He was cut off by Simon. "They are right, Five, we agreed. Let us do this, it may allow us to generate more useful data." he said, relatively softly.
--
Circe Base
High Orbitals, January 26th, 3050
The tiny Raptor was a gnat amongst titans, it's 50 ton mass dwarved into pale insignificance as it floated in space besides two million tons of armor and guns. Inside, Racetrack was again at the controls, with Skulls again serving as ECO. In the back, Brigadier van Hausen, Ambrose Pierson and PFC Stormfeather were the only passengers, Kerry having remained behind to assist with any traffic control communications upon the arrival of the main fleet.
Using a somewhat jerryrigged addition to Raptor's comm, van Hausen hailed the flagship of TF 14. "This is Brigadier van Hausen, authenticator Bravo Tango Niner Foxtrot Whiskey Uniform Three Six. Refugee fleet will be jumping in in Two hours, repeat, Two hours. All ships are advised to clear orbitals within 250 kilometers of this units emergence point. Repeat, Two Five Zero kilometer clear zone."
"We copy, Two hours until emergence of Refugee fleet, Two Five Zero kilometer clearance from plotted emergance point. Admiral Chavez' compliments and it shall be done." came the response.
"Thank you, please contact Major Piachi for me and advise her that I have returned. If it would be convenient for the Admiral I would like to hold a SitRep briefing before the refugee's arrive."
"Acknowledged, one moment." came from the headset, then a few seconds later. "Agreed, Sir, Admiral Chavez is groundside at this time, requesting briefing in Three Zero minutes."
"Understood, we will set down and briefing in Three Zero minutes. Tank out."
Van Hausen smiled as he set the microphone down, looking out the cockpit window from where he half-crouched behind the pilot and ECO. Beside the Raptor floated the bulk of the HWS Implacable, a Dreadnought class Battleship. Barely visible beyond the mighty battlewagon was the even more massive mountain of armor HWS Charlemagne, lead ship of the Charlemagne class of supercarriers. On the far side of the carrier, another Dreadnought. this one HWS Republic floated in the vastness of space, forming the third element of the core of TF 14.
"Land please do." he said, butchering the memorized Colonial phrase that Kerry had drilled into him prior to his departure, drawing a smile from Racetrack and a slight chuckle from Skulls. Van Hausen himself grinned as he moved back into the passenger compartment and strapped himself back in.
The Raptor began dropping into atmosphere, the escorting Sparrowhawk II aerospace fighters matching the manuever as Racetrack consulted the landing pattern chart that Kerry had drawn for her.
--
Circe Base
Main Conference Room, January 26th 3050
"Primary requirements will be food and medical care, I saw the prefab housing already erected while on approach, and according to Major Piachi all services have been run. While this is a temporary facility, we saw no reason not to make it as comfortable as possible and after being aboard iGalactica/i I definately believe that these people need the chance to rest in a safe environment that is not crowded like sardine cans with crap excuses for rations."
The conference room was rather large, as it served double duty as the centerpoint of the occassional training exersizes supported by the Base. The four individuals inside rattled around like small peas in a very large pod. Brigadier van Hausen and Major Piachi sat across the table from a slender grey-haired woman who seemed a bit out of place dressed in the white and black uniform of a senior Admiral, while the man beside her looked like he could give nail eating lessons to the toughest Marines, despite being a fireplug of a man who was even shorter than his Admiral.
"Now, you all have gotten a copy of the report that Specialist Sykes-Bannon compiled, and I have sent the 'Useful Phrases' booklet to the printers to be distributed to all Base personnel. Several things that I feel must be highlighted. Battlearmor and Mechs should only be displayed in a context that makes it clear that they are human controlled vehicles and not independant robots. The Colonials have had extremely negative experiences at the hands of robotic war machines and will no doubt have a highly negative reaction to any that they encounter. Second, their religion appears to be highly Hellenistic Greek in form, and they believe that all humans come from a planet called 'Kobol', and that we are descended from a 'Thirteenth Colony'. A good number of them are quite serious about this religion, so caution in that area is indicated." van Hausen continued, consulting the small notebook sitting in front of him.
"You said that there was at least one of the biological Cylons within the fleet itself, correct?" Admiral Maribelle Chavez asked, while her Chief of Staff took notes at her side.
"Correct, Ma'am. Sharon 'Athena' Agathon, who evidently has earned the trust of the Fleet leadership. Specialist Sykes-Bannon spent some time speaking with her, and reports that she appears to be completely human, right down to reactions and such. Indeed, evidently 'Athena' and her husband had a child, although apparantly the girl died soon after birth. I say apparantly because, according to Specialist Sykes-Bannon their Dr Cottle seemed just a bit evasive about the whole thing."
"Interesting, I trust that Mrs Agathon will be available for discussions?" Chavez asked. Despite the rank difference, it was an ironclad principle of Hegemony command that a Base Commander, like van Hausen, always had ultimate authority and responsibility for activities within his or her command area, thus even a flag officer two full grades above him would still follow his instructions. Of course, in practice, that principle was often bent.
"She will be, Ma'am, not only are the Colonials agreeable, but Mrs Agathon volunteered to do so. I am hopeful that she is representative of the other biological Cylons, in which case there is a chance we may indeed be able to convince them to behave peacefully." van Hausen replied, taking a drink from a glass of icewater resting on the armorplas table.
"Good, I will leave you to your duties, Brigadier, thank you for taking the time for this briefing." Chavez said, rising from the table with a smile.
"My pleasure, Admiral." he replied, rising himself.
--
Low Orbitals
Circe Base, January 26th, 3050
"Pre-emergence signature detected, multiple signatures detected in designated arrival area. Repeat, multiple point-source pre-emergence signatures detected... emergence in 30 seconds." came the sudden report from the Sensor section.
"Confirm all within designated clear zone." came the quick command.
"Plotting... confirmed, all within designated zone. Emergence in 10 seconds."
Ten seconds later, the empty space that had been cleared for the arrival of the refugee fleet started to fill up, as with flashs of energy small ships, many looking rather beat up and ramshackle, started appearing. Most of them were smaller than many Dropships, others were the size of smaller JumpShips... none were particularly massive, but there were large gaps in the formation still.
Stronger emergence signatures appeared, then a pair of giants appeared amidst the minnows... Massive, easily matching the largest Hegemony WarShips, Galactica and Pegasus flashed into existance at the conclusion of their jumps.
"Checking count... matchs, all ships accounted for, Ma'am" came the call.
"Contact Circe Base and update them then establish a link to Specialist Sykes-Bannon."
--
Battlestar Galactica CIC
Circe Base, January 26th, 3050
There was a sense of relief, suppressed exuberance, and an undefinable sadness in the air, as reports flowed in from the rest of the fleet. The DRADIS contacts on the main plot, contacts labelled as 'friendlies', told part of the tale, the burning lights in the darkness of the night-shrouded planet below them told the rest. They were no longer hunted prey, chased by the Cylons, they had found shelter... they were in from the cold.
Kerry was standing in a corner, trying to keep out of the way, but the target of quite a few appreciative smiles as the CIC crew simply exulted in the moment. Even Colonel Tigh was affected, grinning broadly and looking more relaxed than he had for months, while Adama somehow managed to remain the serene center, contenting himself with a smile.
A soft beep drew Kerry's attention, and the linguist activated her comlink. "Specialist Sykes-Bannon, ComCorps, Shipping and Receiving." she says, eyes twinkling a little before sobering quickly. "Sorry, Ma'am, understood... understood. Will do." she deactivated the commlink and swore under her breath.
Switching to Colonial, she stepped forward. "Admiral Adama, Sir. Admiral Chavez's compliments, and Circe Base is ready to receive the first wave of atmosphere capable craft, shuttles are in position to serve as guides." she said formally, drawing herself to the best 'attention' she'd managed in months. "On behalf of ComCorps, and the Hegemony as a whole... welcome." she continued, before snapping off a picture perfect salute.