CHAPTER SIX
Kobol Expedition
Day 47
Sector 728
The light of the distant yellow-tinged star washed the frontiers of its star system, the scattered swarms of comets and asteroids, and snowball proto-planets of mostly solid methane and ammonia that the distant gravitational arms of the local sun had never gathered into actual worlds. A poet once called such things the Reefs of Space. Here, the local sun was just a bright star among unblinking stars in the black void of space. Its yellow tinge made it a rarity of rarities among the stars of this sector of the galaxy.
At the edge of this star system's reefs of space, individual flashes of blue-white light and Cherenkov radiation appeared, and the Kobol Expeditionary Fleet appeared out of the FTL jumps. As soon as the battlestars' flight pods were extended, Raptors were launched from the Galactica and the Perseus and jumped away on their mission to scout the neighboring star systems to find deposits of tylium. But not the family of planets watched over by the bright lonely yellow star. One of the Raptors launched from the Galactica, however, did not jump. The flame-blue glow of its ion engines brightened as it made its way toward one of the civilian ships in the fleet.
Celestra
Expedition Science Ship
Caprican Registry
The Raptor docked into the Celestra's small hangar bay set into the ship's hammerhead bow. The bay doors slid shut and the bay pressurized quickly. Once the pressurization board showed the green light, the Raptor's door opened. Felix Gaeta climbed out with a black bag in his hand and looked around at the two shuttles in the bay and made his way to the hatch leading into the Celestra proper.
The hatch's wheel spun and its hermetic seal was broken as it opened. Silver-haired Captain Kronus stood behind it.
Gaeta saluted. Strictly speaking, he didn't have to do that to a civilian ship commander but Paul Kronus was a retired admiral of the Colonial Fleet and had distinguished himself at the Battle of Cosmora Archipelago during the war sparked by the Cylon Rebellion in which he commanded the Fourth Fleet from the Battlestar Rycon. He thwarted a major Cylon offensive in a pyrrhic victory in which the Rycon had to be scuttled. Despite this, he received the Distinguished Service Medallion from the newly formed Colonial Admiralty and the Star of Kobol from the equally newly formed Quorum of Twelve. In Gaeta's opinion, such a man still merited the respect due an admiral and a war hero even if he had to wonder why such a decorated career military officer would retire only to command a civilian vessel.
Kronus waved the salute away dismissively as if he was slightly annoyed, but Gaeta could tell by the old man's eyes that he was flattered. He started walking down the corridor, Gaeta following. The corridors in the Celestra were smaller than those on the Galactica and consequently felt more cramped. "When I was told that the Galactica's communications officer was coming here, I had to see for myself. If there's a message, you could have sent it by wireless. Unless it's important and couldn't be sent over the wireless."
Gaeta wanted to laugh but he respected Kronus too much to do that. It was clear that Kronus was capable of shrewd thinking, something that might be required to survive in the Admiralty. "No, sir. This is a personal visit."
Which was not entirely true, but Gaeta was under orders.
Kronus glanced at the young ensign sideways. "So it's not your shift now and you decided to spend your free time on our humble ship full of scientists?"
"Yes, sir."
The commander stopped at a T-junction and faced Gaeta. "You're visiting that Baltar?"
A grin appeared on Gaeta's face before it was quickly wiped away for the sake of professionalism. "No, sir. Wouldn't think of it, sir."
The old man appraised Gaeta with pursed lips. After a while, he nodded once, his face carefully devoid of any expression. He turned down another corridor, leaving Gaeta alone.
Gaeta found himself liking the old war hero.
Gaeta found the hatch he was looking for. He knocked on it. Soon, the straight handle turned down and the hatch clicked open. Anthem's head popped out and he seemed surprised to see Gaeta.
"Come in."
Gaeta stepped over the high threshold and saw that Anthem was shirtless. It was clear that he had muscle, the kind that was not built for show. There was a light smattering of crisp black hair on the chest and abdomen, and a silver ring pierced the left nipple. The silver contrasted with the brown skin. Before he could notice anything more, Anthem turned around and went to put on a shirt. Gaeta looked around. The bunk was kept neat but the table and dresser top were overflowing with papers and books. Soft piano music played. A computer awaited Anthem on the table.
Anthem now wore a shirt. Gaeta saw that the shirt was a Festivus souvenir. Gaeta mentally smiled. Festivus was a week-long celebration annually held in the Colonies. It consisted of dancing, fireworks, colorful lights and decorations, lots of eating and drinking and partaking of drugs, lots of nudity, impossible fantasy costumes, and many parades. Most people wore masks many of which were fantastical and provided anonymity in sexual escapades and orgies. Very often, they wore the masks and nothing else. It was a time when the rich and poor mingled anonymously in which a farmer could be copulating with a siress in public with no one the wiser. Children born to those who did not use contraceptives were treated as the spouse's own even if he was not the biological father. Many college students naturally planned their Vernal Break to at least partially coincide with Festivus.
"Nice music."
"Thanks. It's a recording of Dreilide Thrace when he played in the Helice Opera House at Caprica City."
"Thrace?" Gaeta's brow puckered. "Any relation to Starbuck? I mean, Lieutenant Kara Thrace?"
Anthem shrugged. "No idea."
Gaeta saw that a color photo filled the computer screen, showing inscriptions of blocky symbols on a wooden sculpture. The sculpture looked odd with a face that had huge slanted almond eyes, a double-arched open mouth and interweaving designs in the edges.
"It's a Kobolian artifact," said Anthem by way of explanation. "I've been translating and familiarizing myself with Proto-Kobolese. You'd never see it. It was destroyed in the Cylon War."
Gaeta grimaced sympathically. Beside killing billions of people, the war also killed much of Colonial history as the rebelling Cylons sought to destroy the cities of the Colonies.
There was an awkward pause.
The Galactica communications officer decided to fill up the pause. "You know, it's the first time I've been in here."
"You're welcome" was the noncommittal answer.
Gaeta glared. "Anthem, I know we had something. I felt it when you first came aboard the Galactica. But since then, you've pulled away."
Anthem contemplated Gaeta with mental reservation. Finally: "You're military."
That answer only inspired confusion. "What in Hades does that mean?"
"When I left home on Tauron, I spent my teen years in Queenstown. Picon City to Capricans. Fleet Town to the military."
"And…?"
Anthem was silent again, studying the other man's face. He sighed and said, "After Tauron, I was poor. Uncle Phelan introduced me to the…seedier side of Picon. I fought. I pickpocketed. I picked locks. I stole. I took drugs. When my family found out and disowned Phelan, he was forced to flee. I had to get by on my own so I…sold myself. I was underage."
Gaeta stared.
"Many clients were rich tourists. Many were the military on shore leave."
That made sense to Gaeta. Picon City was nicknamed Fleet Town because the city was the main destination of military shore leaves. Not too surprising considering its hedonistic ways and proximity to the Picon Fleet Headquarters. Not for nothing was Picon known for its harbors. Anthem was still speaking:
"Generally, it seems to me the military clients were sicker and crueler. Oh, the civilians were plenty sick but I think the military training honed the sickness and the assignments they got twisted them somehow. Rapes, beatings." Anthem shrugged as if it was all in the past. "Once, I was paid to watch as a scumbag had four of his fingers ripped off. Not cut or sliced, but twisted. The fingers had been rotated around and round until the tendons and bones finally snapped."
"Gods…."
Anthem shrugged again. "It was an education in the human psyche for me. Finally a rich man hired me. At first, he was just someone to squeeze money out of. He paid me to tell him about myself. He wanted to write a story. He took pity on me and brought me to Aquaria. Galatea was almost as hedonistic as Picon City but it was much more regulated and I was finally out of that cesspool. He put me into Caprica University where I got my degrees in history, archaeology and anthropology. So now here I am, a professor at Delphi University and an archaeo-anthropologist."
"I'm…sorry." Gaeta knew that sounded lame but he didn't know what else to say.
"Don't be. It made me the man I am today. The experience is why whenever anyone tries to use sex to ensnare me, I can see right through it because I was one of them when I was young. It's why I can deal with the likes of Captain Tyler and his crew on the Orion."
"What about your family? Couldn't they do anything at the time?" Gaeta knew that the Ataiuns, a Tauron aristocratic family, were very wealthy and powerful. They owned Actaeon Company, majority shares in Akamai Corporation and other mega-corporations. The family sigil, the Stag, was familiar throughout the Colonies via such corporations and their products.
"Please. They were frakked up. You know those rumors about the Ataiuns, about their involvement with Andreas Phaulkon, the Heraclitus and the Ha'la'tha before the Cylon War? They're true. Mostly." Anthem looked down. "Maybe I'm exaggerating, but the point is yes, they had connections. House Ataiun played both sides, the Heracs and the Ha'la'tha. A very dangerous game, as you can imagine."
Gaeta's lips tightened. Sounded like a frakked up family, but he didn't say that. It wasn't his place. Andreas Phaulkon was called the playboy dictator of Tauron and he used tanks to crush revolts by farmers. The Heraclitus was a faction that dominated the Tauron government in the First Tauron Civil War. They massacred the Agrarians, or dirt-eaters as they called them. The stories of torture, murders and mass graves still shamed modern Caprica because they supported the antebellum government against the Agrarian rebels.
A damned tragedy.
"That's probably why my parents, Sire Asterion and Siress Medea, were the way they were. My grandfather, Sire Cleon, certainly made sure of it. The Heracs, the Ha'la'tha, and all that. Of course, House Ataiun is not involved anymore." Anthem laughed mirthlessly as if he didn't think much of that.
Gaeta wondered if that scandal involving the deaths of Asterion, Medea and their daughter was what made Anthem leave Tauron. He had heard rumors that if Anthem had returned home upon the deaths of Asterion and Medea, he'd be the Sire of House Ataiun and CEO of Actaeon and Akamai instead of his cousin, Tassilo.
He would ask Anthem about that. But not now.
"Whatever the military did to you, that's not me." He held up the black bag he was holding, opened it and pulled out a bottle of ambrosia and a bottle of Leonis sparkling wine. "These are my peace offerings. Felix Gaeta the Man likes you. Felix Gaeta the Soldier is not here."
Anthem softened and smiled. He gestured to the bunk and its side table as he retrieved two glasses from a cabinet. "You know, the closest I've ever been to the military is watching the Armament Day parades." He gestured at the tiny porthole through which they could see some of the ships of the expeditionary fleet, including a Gunstar and an Escortstar. "And now here I am, in the thick of it."
Gaeta was silent for a moment as he sat on the bunk beside Anthem. Only a moment, for duty called. "Speaking of that. We're here."
Puzzlement crossed Anthem's face. "Here?"
Gaeta's look became meaningful.
A wondering whisper escaped Anthem's lips: "Kobol!"
"It's not confirmed but the third planet in this star system is habitable. There are ruins on its surface. Could be someplace else but the directions you gave us from the ancient star map…it couldn't be anything else."
"We're in the Phos System? Truly?"
"Well, we're at the edge. Commander Adama wants you on the Galactica for a discussion about it."
Anthem was incredulous. "What's there to discuss? It's Kobol! Let's go there. Jump!"
Gaeta hesitated. "Well, our scouts found something there. That's what the commander wants to discuss in a conference. After this, I'm calling Baltar and we're going to the Raptor in the shuttle bay."
Anthem grimaced. Baltar….
The communications officer understood and he showed it in a smile. "The conference's not for an hour. The ships captains need to be briefed first and the people essential to the meeting need to be called to the Galactica." Gaeta popped the cork off of the Leonis sparkling wine. "Now, how about we celebrate your discovery of humanity's mother-world?"
The archaeo-anthropologist grinned and thrust his glass to the open bottle. "Why not? To Kobol!"
"To Kobol!" Gaeta clinked his glass against Anthem's. "And to us."
The grin brightened into a smile. This was going to be interesting for Anthem.
Elsewhere on the Celestra….
"Yes. Yes. Gaius. Ahh, Gaius…ahhh…Gaius…."
"Oooh," Gaius Baltar moaned. He grabbed his partner's blonde hair as he breathed hard.
"Come on. Don't stop. Don't stop. Come on!" Painted fingernails raked down Baltar's back, leaving long red ragged lines in the skin. He wasn't aware of them.
Baltar grimaced and groaned loudly and fell back onto the bed, gasping for breath. The blonde soon fell over to the bed as well.
"Oh, frak," breathed Baltar.
The woman got up on an elbow and smirked. "Gaius Frakking Baltar, don't tell me this is still great for you even after all this time."
The young scientist with long wavy hair barked a laugh as he looked at the woman who, unknown to him, was an enemy honey trap. "Of course it is. It'd be better if we had something like the Zephyr or Cloud Nine than this…tub of a science ship!"
The woman known as Number Six among her brethren frowned. "This is not a pleasure cruise, despite…" She caressed the hair on Baltar's chest. "…this."
"I am three times a Magnate Prize winner. I am close to the President. I am the director of the Command Navigation Program. They should have given me the Zephyr when I asked for it!"
As he was speaking, Six's hand was tracing a meandering trail down Baltar's still-heaving and sweaty torso. The hand plunged down and grabbed his balls. Hard.
Gasping in surprise and pain, he said, "Easy there! They're tender, especially now."
Tender sweetness was gone from Six's face. She fiercely said, "Focus, Gaius. Focus! Kobol is out there. God wants us to have it."
Baltar rolled his eyes. "Oh not that again…." He grimaced again, this time in pain as Six squeezed.
"Do not mock my faith, Gaius." Six was suddenly sweet again as she released him. "I hear that there's people at Kobol."
"People? Wha..? How'd you know?"
A corner of the blonde's mouth lifted in a half smile. "I have my little ways. Just like I have ways with you. The swirl and the twist, for example."
A mischievous glint came into Baltar's eyes as he reached over to Six's triangle of sticky wet pubic hair. "I thought you want me to focus? Or is this the type of focus you want?"
She slapped his hand away with a snarl but her eyes conveyed amusement. "This is important, Gaius."
"Yes. Kobol. Important. But people? I thought everyone left Kobol?"
"They did. They forsook God and God banished them from paradise."
"Here, I've always thought it's the Lords of Kobol all along," deadpanned Baltar.
"The gods are false idols who've led the people astray." Six sat up. "The people at Kobol are violating God's ban on entering paradise. We can't do the same thing, Gaius. We'd bring God's wrath upon us. Gaius, you could die there."
"If it's forbidden to go there, where are God's servants with flaming swords?" Baltar waved away the question before Six could admonish him for mocking her faith again. "But who are these people?"
"They're not us."
Baltar stared. The way the blonde said it made her sound like she knew it to be absolutely true. "Darling, you seem to know more than I do. What's going on?"
"We must not go to Kobol. God commands it. I know you don't believe, but this is important to me." She caressed Baltar's neck and tried to encircle it with her hand. "I want you alive." That caused Baltar to tense up.
"What's wrong, Gaius?"
"I…uh…I had a dream about you."
Baltar remembered the last dream. In it, the blonde was straddling him on a couch at the beach. She was asking him to use the pleasure to forget the pain. What pain? He didn't know. As she was riding him, she grasped his neck and gently squeezed. Baltar thought this was an attempt at pleasurable asphyxiation which was supposed to enhance orgasms. Instead, she snapped his neck and asked, "Are you alive?"
That was…disconcerting to say the least. He wasn't about to go into the details with the blonde woman in bed beside him. "Well, I've been seeing you in dreams a lot lately."
Six looked into Baltar's eyes, showing no expression on her face. "I'm not surprised, Gaius." She stood up from the bed. "You better get used to it."
That was…an unusual response, to say the least. He watched her stride to a cabinet. She took out a wine bottle and opened it to pour into two wine glasses. "I…don't understand."
Six sighed and turned to face Baltar, holding the wine bottle. "Life has a melody, Gaius. A rhythm of notes that become your existence once played in harmony with God's plan. It's time to do your part and realize your destiny."
"And what is that, exactly?"
"In your Sacred Scrolls, Zeus said that any return to Kobol will exact a price in blood. There's a reason God banished the tribes from Kobol. Do not anger Him or we'll reap the whirlwind." Upon seeing Baltar's skeptical look, she sighed and added, "Let me put this in words that you can believe in: go to Kobol and you will die."
Again, Baltar stared at Six, the wheels in his brains turning. "You seem to know things that I don't know."
She chuckled as she sipped her wine. "Isn't that what women are for?"
"No, no, it's more than that. It's as if you have little birdies finding things out for you. It's eerie, really. First, you tell me about getting on this expedition to Kobol. Then you tell me about people who are not us on Kobol before I ever hear about it. Wha—?"
Six chuckled again. "Don't tell me you're a conspiracy theorist, Gaius."
"No, no, it's just that—"
The Cylon agent, as she reached for Baltar's wine glass, intentionally knocked the wine bottle from the cabinet table. It fell and shattered on the deck.
"Oh!"
Baltar rushed from the bed, grabbing a towel to dab at the wine pooling on the deck. "Don't worry about it. I'll put it on Mini-Def's expense account, as usual." He grinned. "That's one of the many perks of my position, you know."
Six smiled, glad that Baltar has lost his train of thought. "I know." She pulled him up from his squatting position and gently pushed him toward the bed. "You are one of my many perks."
Baltar's eyebrows rose. "Again? I don't know if I can…."
Six picked up a tiny plastic box from the bedside table and snapped it open to reveal tiny diamond-shaped blue pills. Baltar instantly recognized them and reached out for one.
"Vinagro? Okay, sure."
Battlestar Galactica
The hatch into the Galactica's War Room opened and Commander Adama looked up.
"Glad you could make it."
Doctors Anthem Cyrus and Gaius Baltar were ushered through the hatchway by Felix Gaeta. Baltar was frowning at Gaeta who was looking slightly satisfied with himself. Adama guessed that Gaeta had put off summoning Baltar to the last minute, thus causing an inconvenience of some type to the official head scientist of the expedition. The commander mentally smiled to himself.
Dr. Cyrus, carrying a thick leather-bound book under an arm, was looking around the War Room to take in the displays. The wall screens projected images of the Phos System and of the planet Kobol. The large electronic map table was displaying various orbital and aerial photos of the surface of Kobol.
"Is that Kobol?"
Adama nodded, looking stern. "It's not confirmed but according to your notes, Dr. Cyrus, the planet should be Kobol. Our scouts report that it appears to have suffered some kind of calamity in the past but it is inhabitable." He touched an image and slid it across the electronic map table to highlight it. "The aerial survey shows evidence of at least one city on the surface."
Baltar gave the image a close look. "How old are the ruins?"
Cyrus was also studying the aerial photo of the ruined city. "Judging by the plant overgrowth and the state of the ruins in this picture, I'd give an initial estimate of approximately two thousand years." He looked up meaningfully.
Gaeta caught the meaning. "That's around the time that the twelve tribes left Kobol."
Cyrus nodded slowly. "This planet is Kobol…birthplace of mankind, where the gods and men lived in paradise until the exodus of the thirteen tribes." He looked around at the wall images and paused at the photo of the map that he found in the Galleon Stone back on Caprica that gave the expedition the route back to Kobol. He then looked down at the thick leather-bound book he brought over from the Celestra. Adama guessed that it was the Sacred Scrolls. The archaeo-anthropologist added, "It's real. The scriptures, the myth, the prophecies. They're all real."
"So say we all," agreed Gaeta.
Adama said to Baltar, "Well, doc? What's your opinion about this?"
Baltar was looking pensively at the images of the Kobolian surface.
"Doc? Doc?" prodded Gaeta.
Baltar was still looking down at the table images.
A small amount of annoyance escaped Adama's controlled face. "Doctor Baltar, did you hear me?"
"I did hear you, Commander. I just don't respond to the title 'Doc.' A 'dock' is a platform for loading and unloading material. My title is 'doctor,' if you don't mind."
Adama's eyes sharpened into a glare that was unmuted by his spectacles. Baltar slightly but visibly wilted under the glare.
Cyrus took the initiative. "We must organize a ground survey team. We must make a complete survey of the ruins immediately."
Adama said, "There is a complication, Doctor." With that, he tapped the edge of a small image in the table, causing it to expand. In it were what appeared to be the top of tents, equipment and dots suggesting people.
"Is…that a camp?" Cyrus looked up. "I thought we haven't jumped to Kobol orbit and sent people there yet."
"It's not our people."
Baltar's eyes widened as he remembered the warning by his blonde girlfriend. Go to Kobol and you will die. He also remembered Six saying that there were people on Kobol and that 'they were not us.' "They're not us."
"I'm sorry?"
Baltar pointed at the aerial photo as he repeated, "They're not us."
Adama looked over his spectacle dubiously. "I believe that's what I said, Doctor."
Cyrus had thunderheads in his eyes. "Looters. Tomb raiders. Thieves!" He turned to Commander Adama. "We must stop them. Looters and grave robbers are the bane of Colonial history. They create unnecessary gaps in the knowledge of our heritage. Even if anyone doesn't care about that, the sale of ancient artifacts would fetch huge prices in the underground market. Anyone would become filthy rich selling Kobolian artifacts in the Colonies. Just think of the fortunes given to criminals and terrorists at home!"
Adama nodded slowly, troubled by that thought. Shady characters could indeed get rich from priceless artifacts and finance piracy and terrorist attacks. The Colonies would have nightmares of the Sagittaron Freedom Movement, the Children of Erebus terrorists, the Beta Pirates and other such organizations getting the finances to mount large scale attacks, like the one upon a government building on Sagittaron for which the terrorist Tom Zarek was responsible and incarcerated in the Luna 3 Cold Hell prison facility.
"As the fleet commander, it's my responsibility to know my options and to know the reasons behind the orders that I give. I will need to brief the ship captains and the teams we will send to Kobol. You are the experts, doctors. Dr. Cyrus, your recommendation is to go down and stop them?"
"Yes!" Anthem slammed the table with a fist to emphasize his answer.
"Actually…," interposed Baltar.
Adama arched an eyebrow to indicate that the scientist should elaborate.
Baltar cleared his throat. "Who could have sent these people all the way to Kobol, if indeed this planet is Kobol? Who has the logistics to send this many people, this much equipment to this planet?"
"I have several suspects in mind," growled Cyrus.
"Naturally," deadpanned Baltar. "As I was saying, only a government, either planetary or federal, could launch such an expedition to this planet. As we know, none of the planetary governments back home has done it. Only the federal government has done it, as witness our own expedition." He took a deep breath as he thought of his girlfriend's warning. "So it stands to reason that the people on this planet come from a world outside the Twelve Colonies."
"Aliens?" scoffed Cyrus. "Everybody knows this galaxy is a barren and desolate place. The odds of habitable worlds developing anywhere are astronomical. The worlds in the Cyrannus Cluster are a freak of nature that the credible could only attribute to acts of the gods themselves. And there's the fact that Phos, the sun of Kobol, appears to be the only yellow-type star in this sector so the odds of Kobol and humanity developing must be astronomical too."
"But that doesn't mean humans have not settled other worlds than the Twelve Colonies," countered Baltar.
"Oh, you mean the Thirteenth Colony? Earth? Until facts tell us otherwise, it's a myth!"
"C-certainly, I'm not speaking of that mythical Colony. During the Exodus from Kobol, several of the ships of the tribes must have diverted to other star systems and settled rather than continuing on to Cyrannus. Surely, you must have encountered stories of other such settled worlds?"
A thoughtful look came over Cyrus. "Well, there are such stories of splinter settlements. Rumors, really. For instance, before the Cylon Rebellion, outcasts from Scorpia left the Cluster to settle a world rumored to be named Antila or Attila. Again, rumors claim that world to be in the Omega Sector. As we know, we can't investigate the veracity of that claim."
Baltar, Adama and Gaeta nodded. The way to the Omega Sector was now blocked by the Armistice Line separating Cylon space from Colonial claimed space. Cyrus continued to speak.
"There were sightings of supposed alien craft among the Colonies before the Cylon Rebellion. The various air forces have investigated them and discovered real explanations or dismissed them as frauds." Cyrus smiled. "Of course, that didn't stop the reports of such sightings to continue. The stereotype is that these reports are the ravings of drunk Aerilon farmers."
Adama thought he spotted a hint of an offended expression in Baltar's face but he dismissed it because what could Aerilon have anything to do with Baltar?
"Any other…'rumors'?" wondered Baltar with a hint of a sneer.
"I could ramble off a list of these rumors, like Borallus or Borella, and Equellus. Let's stick to the facts, Dr. Baltar. Facts like our science and mining outposts at Arcta, Orion and Proteus outside the Cluster, not to mention the failed kobolforming project at Pallas back home and the splinter colony on the moon Hibernia around Virgon where the Celtans settled after opposing Virgon rule centuries ago. Until we find out otherwise, Doctor, settled worlds outside our sphere of influence are not a fact."
Adama and Gaeta could see Baltar grinding his teeth. "Okay, Dr. Cyrus, who do you propose to be behind this illegal operation on Kobol? Cylons?"
Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Now it's Cylons, not aliens or non-Colonial human worlds?" He sighed as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Sometimes I wonder why you won those Magnate Prizes." Before Baltar could form a retort, Cyrus went on to answer his question. "Governments are not the only people with the vast resources to pull off operations like this. Like House Ataiun, for instance."
Adama's eyebrows rose. "Ataiun? Isn't that…"
Cyrus interrupted before Adama could mention his family connection. "Yes, that Tauron family. I know them. The family patriarch, Tassilo, is a shady character, believe me. The Ataiuns used to have connections with the Heracs and the Ha'la'tha."
Adama darkened at the mention of the Ha'la'tha. The others in the War Room did not know the reason for that.
"Wealthy people have a taste for the unattainable. What is more unattainable than the rarest of artifacts? What is rarer than artifacts from Kobol? Add to that fact that a wealthy and powerful man like Tassilo tends to have debts to pay, the kind of debts they'd prefer the government and the legal community not to know. One single intact artifact straight from Kobol could make a man rich enough to buy a small moon or a small fleet of ships. Because of all that, Kobol would be an extremely attractive target. I don't know how, but someone must have figured out Kobol's location. I strongly suspect Tassilo to be the benefactor of this illegal operation."
"Why?"
"Commander Adama, for an illegal operation like this, it'd take a ship or three stocked up to their gills. With the right connections and money, these ships could slip past the government's notice beyond the Cluster. Only one ship may be needed to pick up the loot. I believe there's such a ship in our own fleet: the Orion."
"The Orion? I remember you telling us something about that ship."
"Yes, Commander. Shady characters, the lot. The Orion's crew takes missions that are illegal, such as smuggling and theft. The ship's owners, Arvin Tyler and his ex-wife Sora Tyler, are known to Tassilo. I was honestly surprised when I heard that the Orion is part of our expedition to Kobol. The only conclusion I could draw, Commander Adama, is that the Orion's benefactor is Tassilo Ataiun even though it has been contracted by the government and the Admiralty. Tassilo has a lot of pull with the government and the military. Therefore, the Orion is the illegal operation's pickup ship."
Adama's eyes switched between Baltar and Cyrus, weighing their arguments.
Cyrus added, "The people on the planet are criminals. We must stop them before they create irreparable losses for our heritage."
Baltar, remembering his girlfriend's warning, threw in, "They are not our people. Remember, Commander, what the Sacred Scrolls say about Kobol: 'And Zeus warned the leaders of the twelve tribes that any return to Kobol would exact a price in blood.' This is Kobol, the land of the gods. Do not make us pay the price in blood."
The Galactica's commander's back stiffened. It was exactly the wrong thing to say to Adama. "Doctors, these stories, about Kobol, the gods, and everything, they're just stories, legends, myths. Don't let it blind you to the reality we face." Adama took off his spectacles and folded them as he gazed down at the photos in the electronic table. Paramount in his mind was the Cylons detected on that tylium asteroid and an apparent Cylon fleet shadowing the expedition to Kobol. As a military officer, he'd cut his losses and go back to the Colonies. But if he did that, the Cylons would have Kobol for themselves and that would be a major political embarrassment for the Colonies, as if this illegal operation wasn't enough to embarrass them. Politics! As exciting as war, definitely as dangerous. Though in war, you get killed only once, while in politics, it can happen over and over. Adama intended to stand and not let that happen to him.
For now, the ships captains and the military personnel needed to know what to do. He glanced at Gaeta who was faithfully awaiting his commands.
Commander William Adama of the Battlestar Galactica, BSG-75, born to Joseph and Evelyn Adama in Caprica City and raised in Qualai, a small Caprican coastal community, made his decision.
Marinestar Heroic
"Attention on deck!" a voice at the back of the room boomed and as one the assembled Marines, both officer and enlisted within the stateroom, snapped to ramrod straight attention.
Colonel Lionel Carthan strode briskly and with purpose down the aisle toward the center dais overlooking the stateroom with the projector screen behind it. "As you were." He waved his officers and enlisted personnel down as he stood behind the center podium. As his people retook their seats he straightened some folders in his hand then looked over the assembled crowd briefly before he cleared his throat and pressed a button on a remote controlling the projector off to the right and behind him. At once a two dimensional picture, clearly taken from overhead, centered on a series of white prefabricated structures and other man-made accoutrements near a set of ruins. All of the assembled personnel held their breath in anticipation.
Carthan looked around the room, and though he hid it well, he took immense pride in his men and woman. Like most units in the Colonial Marine Corps, the Fifth Marine Strike Force was the product of an intense and calculated training regimen that produced an aggressive and technically proficient group. Few transferred out except through promotion or separation. Many Marines would spend years in this unit, which built an esprit de corps that few could match. Carthan's officers knew their men down to their individual tendencies and weaknesses; NCO's knew who needed pushing and who were self-motivated. All this training and cohesion made them a machine, one with one purpose: defeat all comers.
A Marine Strike Force was a team, built to operate together with an intimate knowledge of all skill sets. The crews of the armored vehicles knew the tendencies and tactics of the infantry companies just as the engineers knew what the armored crews expected to do. With infantry, light armor, Vipers, Raptor gunships, engineers and other myriad specialties, the MSF was more an instrument than just a unit. They were good, very good.
"I'll get straight to the point," Colonel Carthan began without preamble. "We've been given a mission to secure an objective on the Home of the Gods. And the Marines of Third Battalion, Fifth MSF will be the first boots on the ground to do it." He turned to the projector, "What you're seeing here are a small cluster of structures established on Kobol by an as yet unknown party for purposes also as yet unknown. Orders from the fleet commander are that we are to secure this facility with minimal loss of life. And find out why they're there."
A few officers traded looks at that statement. People on Kobol? And not from the expedition? What. The. Frak!
"As I said we don't know who they are but they've set up camp in this open field here; near as what we can tell they're the strongest concentration of ancient ruins in the City of the Gods. We're operating on the assumption they're non-indigenous."
If that first statement had them curious this statement had them suspicious. Some of them were already forming their own ideas who was down there and what they were doing. Yet despite knowing this none of them spoke up and kept their own thoughts to themselves.
Carthan continued, "We'll be going in hot and fast; a Raptor assault spearheaded by Alpha Company will land at these points here…" Carthan selected two points on the west side of the base camp. "Beta Company will land and secure a landing zone four clicks east of the base camp where one of the Taurus assault ships will land and deploy Daggit Troop for landram support." Colonel Carthan turned back to his company commanders. "Constellation and Echo companies will land to the north and east of Alpha. They will reinforce Alpha's position and will help tighten the noose and plug any gaps in the perimeter. Headquarters Company will establish CAS EVAC points and RETRANS sites for surface to ship communications while the mortar platoons deploy their teams for indirect fire support." Carthan turned back to the screen and flicked a button on his remote and a new image was displayed of the base camp and the surrounding area. "You'll have air support should you need it."
"Galactica will set up a combat air patrol to secure local airspace. On the off chance the enemy does have any form of air support they'll deal with it. You'll also have close air support in the form of Raptor gunships and our Vipers to help suppress the enemy should it be needed. So far ELINT over-flights have not detected any DRADIS emissions coming from the surface but that doesn't mean they may not have surface to air missiles or any other form of surface to air weapons. A squadron from Heroic has been tasked with SAM suppression and they'll be going in minutes before we do to stir up the hornet's nest."
The officers and NCO's in the room traded nervous glances and repressed shudders at that statement. 'Baiting the Hornet' was a dangerous mission. It was where a Viper pilot flew low and steady in the hopes of baiting SAM sites into locking him up whereby his wingmen could then engage the SAM sites trying to kill their buddy and destroy them. During the Cylon War pilots who performed this dangerous mission achieved the highest notoriety in the fleet.
They also had the highest casualties throughout the entire war of any squadron. Amazingly there was never a shortage of such brave men and women willing to do the job. They wore their own made up patch with pride: that of a mighty duck with a wicked grin chased by angry hornets. Curiously, no one seemed to know exactly where the patch originated from. To be a hornet baiter one had to have balls of solid steel and ice cold nerves. They were the fleet's adrenalin junkies; many of them literally laughing with glee at the hope of getting shot at. They were people who lived hard lives and simply didn't care about self preservation. They were reckless to a fault. They were a unique and strange breed of pilots who performed one of the most dangerous missions in the fleet. They were the oddballs of the fleet and sadly common, from the poorer parts of society. And other pilots with a healthy sense of self preservation tended to shy away from them.
It was not something the officers in the room wanted to think about. They were ground pounders and preferred to fight and if necessary die on solid ground. But even so, SAM suppression was a very real concern and hopefully wouldn't be an issue on this mission if the fly boys and girls did their jobs right. It's a long way from orbit to ground. No one gave voice to the silent fear they all shared: being trapped in a burning Raptor plummeting to the ground, helpless and praying for a chance of survival however slim that would be. All they can do is hope they're not consumed by the flames and not flattened by the impact, and hope they could touch down and make a difference.
So say we all.
Colonel Carthan highlighted four points along the base camps out edges, "Notice these positions here, here, here and here. Based on positioning and the open fields of fire they cover it's a good bet they're heavy machine gun emplacements. As well you can see they have two entry/exit points that are heavily fortified. We'll have Second Battalion on hot standby in Raptors to launch in less than five minutes if things go south, but from what we're looking at, Third Battalion should be more than enough to deal with the problem. Any questions?"
Instantly a hand rose at that statement and all the officers and NCO's in the room turned to the person raising her hand.
"Captain Hafoka, you have a question?" Colonel Carthan asked.
Captain Leonie Hafoka was the commander of Alpha Company, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Strike Force; a native of Aquaria who joined the Marines to escape the small town nature of her home world, she enlisted at the tender age of seventeen to see the Colonies. Initially she had applied for a front line combat unit in the operating forces but had been rejected due to her size and gender. At five feet even she was about as petite as they came. However, what she lacked in size and strength she made up for in sheer tenacity and determination. She graduated early on a distance learning program from Kobol College on Gemenon and immediately again applied for front line combat duty.
She had been rejected out of hand. She had reapplied twice more only to be rejected again and again, ultimately being assigned to Marine Support Services. It seemed her dream of serving on a frontline assignment with an infantry company would never be fulfilled until she had a chance encounter with someone who would give her that opportunity. Vice Admiral Helena Cain. They had met during a fleet exercise where a young Second Lieutenant Hafoka, then the supply officer for the Marine detachment aboard Pegasus, had successfully taken command of the ship's Marines and fended off three waves of Cylon boarders. Cain had been so impressed with her she had personally put her in for a commendation. Upon learning of the young woman's desire to serve with the infantry, all it had taken were a few calls from the Admiral to make it happen. Now she was the commander of the best company in the entire 5th MSF, at least in her opinion.
"Sir, from what I see here those are some big open fields of fire. We'd be highly exposed with no cover or concealment. Exactly how far out do those fields of fire extend?"
"Anywhere between five hundred to eight hundred meters, minimal," The Colonel answered without hesitation.
The officers and NCOs repressed groans. Whoever these guys were, they chose their ground well, really well, which brought up the unpleasant prospect they were dealing with highly trained professionals, most likely former military turned mercenaries. More than one officer and NCO in the room had known someone to leave the service only to be recruited by some very wealthy and very shady corporate types who paid top dollar for their services. Idly, they wondered if there was someone down there they once served with. Although it couldn't be proven, Tassilo Antaiun was notorious for hiring highly trained combat troops, particularly Marines. This kind of operation certainly fit with his kind of handy work.
But that didn't matter now, as whoever was down there, they were good, and they chose their ground well. From the recon photos it was obvious that the base camp was heavily fortified with obstacles designed to slow advancing infantry and clear fields of fire covering every avenue of approach. Assaulting that position without indirect fire to soften it up would only lead to their Marines getting cut down like cattle once they hit open terrain. And they all knew it.
"Your orders are not to engage them Captain," Colonel Carthan reiterated. "Your orders are to surround them and establish a perimeter. Once we have them surrounded we'll then offer them a chance to surrender. If and only if they do not comply or if they open fire first, only then will we engage them."
"Sir, what are the rules and regulations for dealing with prisoners once we detain them?" the commander of Beta Company asked.
Carthan blinked at the question, "I'm sorry, what? The same rules and regulations apply now as they've always applied!" Carthan shot back angrily. "I want you to make it clear to your men and women. Under no circumstances will I tolerate torture or any unnecessary rough treatment of the prisoners once they are detained. If I do catch wind of something like this going on, I will prosecute them to the fullest extent of the Articles of War as laid down by the Admiralty. I don't give a frak how righteous they feel. If they cross that line they will pay the price, is that understood?"
Everyone nodded stiffly each one firmly understanding the potential disaster that could happen if things got out of hand.
"Sir, what about their ship?" The commander for Constellation Company asked.
Carthan shook his head. "Raptor recon flights haven't picked up anything on the surface. Either they have it hidden very well on the surface or they're waiting for pickup. Galactica and Perseus have recon flights operating in neighboring systems to find it but so far have had no success." Carthan took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Are there any more questions? If not, start reviewing this material and brief your personnel. We kick off tomorrow morning. Dismissed."
The assembled Marines rose again as Carthan made his way of the dais. He caught Hafoka's eye as he walked by and motioned for her to follow him. They soon made their way out of the room and into the hallway. Carthan turned to Hafoka, who had an obvious look of concern.
"Nothing major Captain. I just want to run a couple of issues by you." With that they turned into an office and closed the hatch with a dull thud.
"You're going to have a couple of additional people on your trip tomorrow."
Hafoka's eyes narrowed quickly despite her best efforts. "Who sir?"
"Adama is sending one of his people; he'll pilot your Raptor and be on the ground with you. He'll also be acting as one of your air controllers; I'm told he's fully qualified."
Hafoka immediately protested. "Sir, with all due respect, I have a damn good Marine pilot who knows how we operate and what we expect. It's a little late in the game to be giving me some Navy moron who wouldn't know a hot LZ if it slapped him in the face. He's.."
Carthan stopped Hafoka with a raised and a withered look. "I understand Captain but this comes directly from Commander Adama and he's made his position clear. Just use him and limit how much damage he can do. I know Adama is putting him there because he's afraid we'll frak it up or something. Just keep this guy on a leash. His secondary purpose will be to escort the second individual."
"Who is, sir?
"Doctor Cyrus, the head archeologist from the science team." Carthan saw that it was Hafoka with the withered look now. "He practically begged to go and he'll ride the Dragon Wagon down with battalion staff. He is our expert on these ruins and what these people might be doing there. As soon as you secure the camp and declare it safe, he's to be given full access to assess the area. Are we clear?"
"Yes sir."
"Don't worry Leonie, just keep them out of the way and accomplish the mission. The Marines will make history tomorrow and you'll be leading the way. Just one more thing."
"Sir?"
"Get this done quick and hard. I can't go into everything but we don't want to be out here any longer than we have to." Carthan sighed, wishing he could tell her of the Cylon threat but that was closely held. "Just get it done."
"Yes sir."
Battlestar Galactica
"Stand easy." Commander Adama barely looked up from his desk, a carpet of paper hiding the natural wood. Before him his son altered his stance but did not do much to release his tension. The atmosphere in the room remained charged, ready to bubble over at any second into one more argument.
Both men had largely avoided each other on the mission so far, posing for a few publicity shots before going their separate ways. Lee had integrated himself into the air wing pretty easily, his natural ability serving to make him a respected comrade. He was glad to have Kara here, her attitude puncturing any morose feelings he had. For a while anyway.
This was still his idea of hell.
"Captain." The elder Adama spoke formally. "You are by now aware that we are about to reach Kobol?"
"Major Spencer briefed us sir." Lee answered just as mechanically.
"Then you will be aware we are putting a team on the planet. Their mission is to seize what is probably a criminal camp on the planet and secure any artifacts they may be stealing from the site."
"Yes sir." Lee nodded.
"I want you as part of that team."
He felt a conflict of emotion, his disdain for his father mixed with enthusiasm for the assignment. To take to the skies of Kobol, soar above the home of the gods, even his grounded personality couldn't help but be inspired by that.
"Understood sir. I'll inform Vigilante Squadron."
"Actually Captain you won't be going in with the air support, the Marines have their own fighters for that. You'll be taking down a Raptor as part of the troop drop…"
"What?"
"And then acting as forward air controller." Bill Adama finished. "A role you are trained and qualified to perform."
"Along with half the Marines on this mission!" Lee snapped.
"Remember your station Captain." Bill hardened his voice.
"Sir." Lee bit on his lip.
"I am fully aware you are a Viper pilot, and a good one. A damn good one." The older man allowed. "But this mission needs other qualities, something you possess and few others do."
"And what exactly is that?" Lee asked harshly. "Sir?"
"My trust." Bill Adama fixed the eyes of his son. "And my confidence."
Lee didn't have a quick answer for that, it was unexpected.
"Well sir, there's Starbuck, or Helo, maybe…"
"Captain." The Commander interrupted. "Lee, you are the only one I can trust to go down there and act as I would act. Not Kara, or Helo, or Tigh… definitely not Tigh. You."
"I don't understand, why would you need me down there?"
"Because the lead team we're sending in, Alpha Company, are assault troops. Remember what happened when assault troops were deployed against civilians?"
"The Teacher Riots." Lee nodded. "But these aren't teachers."
"We don't know who is down on Kobol. We think grave robbers, but we don't know. If they are criminals, or hostile, or gods forbid Cylons we'll need people like Alpha Company to handle it swiftly and professionally."
"And if those people on Kobol aren't hostile…"
"Then I need an officer with a level head who won't jump in both feet first." Bill finished the thought. "Someone I can trust to prevent things turning into another massacre."
"There's got to be people in the Marines you can send in, I mean Sergeant Matthias…"
"Is a good soldier, but she can't pull rank down there. You can."
"You want me to pull rank on the commander of Alpha Company?" Lee chuckled. "You think those Marines will listen to me or her if we get into an argument?"
"They'll listen to you, because you are down there on my authority as mission commander." Bill said firmly. "Nominally Captain Hafoka is in command, but if you believe she is making the wrong decision on anything, you step in and take command. As a naval officer you have the right to assume command of Marines, you also have seniority over Hafoka."
"She's going to know I'm going down there to look over her shoulder."
"Probably, and she'll hate it, and you." Bill nodded. "Got a problem with that Captain?"
"No sir. Not a one."
"I am also sending a member of the science team down with the Dragon Wagon behind you."
"Not Baltar."
"Dr. Cyrus." Bill smiled slightly. "Keep him close beside you; he might be useful if this group isn't from home."
"So officially my job is to act as forward air controller and escort to Doctor Cyrus." Lee listed. "Unofficially I'm to monitor the Marines and assume command if I think it's about to turn into an unnecessary bloodbath?"
"Correct." The Commander nodded. "If these people are a threat, then you sit back and let the Marines handle it. If however this is a First Contact situation, then you and Dr. Cyrus will take point."
"First Contact." Lee repeated, he hadn't actually connected those words until now. "Like science fiction."
"It might be about to be revealed as fact." Bill intoned. "You understand why you are on this mission? What I am asking from you?"
"Yes sir."
"Report to the Heroic at once." Bill stood. "I'd prefer to go myself, if I knew for sure it was a contact scenario I would not force this responsibility on you."
"But if it turns into a firefight we can't risk a senior officer." Lee accepted. "I'm more expendable."
"No you're not, son." The elder Adama held out his hand. "Don't take any chances; you won't have a lot of support."
"I understand."
"I can't bury another son."
The younger Adama shook his hand, it wasn't a warm gesture, but it wasn't icy either.
"You won't have to."
Marinestar Heroic
"Captain Lee Adama." He snapped a clean salute, proving he could be the clean cut officer when necessary.
"Captain." Hafoka responded bluntly. "Are you fully qualified on Raptors?"
"Yes, I have basic, advanced and…"
"Yes will do Captain." She cut him off, regarding him the way a school teacher looks at the class ne'er do well. "If I want chapter and verse I'll ask for it, are we clear?"
"Yes Captain."
"Your job is to get us planet. I don't know why they gave me you instead of our usual pilot but I can guess."
"And may I ask what reason you think that is?"
"You may not ask. You may follow my orders, you may get in the ship, and you may keep your frakking mouth shut." Hafoka growled. "You're a Navy pilot on Galactica, but on this tub you're flying with Marines. Don't expect us to sugar coat our words or iron your shirts for you."
"No, Captain Hafoka."
"Load up Captain Adama, and you better be as good as you pretend to be."
With no further comment Lee clambered into the Raptor, the slightly larger version used for troop insertions still quite familiar. The Raptor Ultra lacked the sensors and computers of its Navy cousin, using that space for extra troop capacity. It was a longer craft too, all in all giving the bird space for twenty fully armed marines and their kit.
Across the hangar deck ground crews detached fuelling pipes and skittered aside, the three platoons of heavily armed Marines stomped onto the deck, their sergeants getting them in line and checking off their gear. From the cockpit Lee could only hear the occasional bark of command or shout of response, these particular Marines dressed in digital temperate camouflage uniforms rather than the black ship board gear he was more familiar with. They were also hauling heavier weapons and a lot more gear, each with a pack and assorted pouches hanging from their flak vests. Topping it off was a full sized assault rifle, a far larger and more powerful weapon than shipboard teams used.
He watched the sergeants winding up the Marines, yelling at them as they yelled back, pumping up their blood and stirring their aggression. These soldiers were the sharp end, orbit to ground assault troops, first on the ground fighting every inch of the way down. They were mean, they were famously aggressive and suffered from an appalling discipline record, and in combat they usually took massive casualties. It was a hard job for hard soldiers, and command accepted their discipline problems in return for their willingness to get on a Raptor and brave flak and dug in defenses before higher quality units went in. They were specially trained for these sorts of hostile assaults making them the only real choice for this mission, but they were also a blunt weapon. Subtle didn't enter their vocabulary.
With a final chant of anger and defiance the sergeants let them go and they stormed onto their Raptors, the very air burning with their eagerness for battle. They were barely contained balls of fury, yet contained it was. They answered orders, sounded off as they were counted into their seats, and waited silently clutching their gear. But in their eyes, behind their training, lay a true killer instinct and an urge to finally get some action after two months in a tin can.
Lee was taking in the command platoon including Captain Hafoka. There were five Raptor Ultra's going in, three with the combat platoons, Lee with the command platoon, and a fifth carrying supplies for establishing a forward base. Everything Alpha Company needed for its mission.
"Buckle up, come on!" Hafoka snapped. "We're on a schedule here."
Lee warmed up the engines, closing the hatch as the Marines settled in.
"All ready back there?" He called.
"We're clear, get a move on, fly boy!"
Lee bit back his first answer. "Roger that Captain."
The five Raptor Ultra's began to move, pulled by magnetic trolleys under the deck. One by one they lined up and were moved to the deck elevators, the Heroic having many more than her half sister Galactica. The airlocks cycled behind them, throwing the ships into darkness as the air evacuated. Above them a red light shone down, growing as the outer doors opened and revealed the flight deck.
"Myrmidon Flight, Heroic Flight Control, we're raising you to the flight deck." A crackling voice informed.
"Myrmidon Lead confirmed." Lee responded. "Systems green, we're ready to go."
"Roger that Myrmidon Flight, you are number two on the runway. Standby."
The transport craft were raised on the deck lifts, the heavy metal slabs bringing them up into the covered flight deck. It looked a lot like a Battlestar flight deck, if a little wider to accommodate the more transport orientated vessels that a Marinestar handled.
They rose in time to see their support taking off, four gunships silently shrieking down the runway and out into space. Each gunship was a standard Raptor armed with rocket pods, missiles and chain guns, literal flying tanks that could decimate enemy formations with contempt. Most Colonial forces had replaced their heavy armored vehicles with gunships, embracing the doctrine of speed and impact. Ahead of them was the Taurus 'Dragon Wagon' assault ship maintaining a lazy orbit within the protective envelope of the Heroic's guns just waiting for the signal to land and deploy its payload. Inside were the fourteen Landrams of Daggit Troop as well as a few of their motorized vehicles and one very nervous civilian doctor eager to get on the ground.
"Myrmidon Flight, Heroic, you are clear to launch."
"Heroic, Myrmidon Flight, moving into position."
He eased the Raptor forward, the engines at minimal thrust as he taxied off the lift and onto the deck itself, turning the nose to face open space. Another Raptor lined up beside him, the rest behind.
"Heroic, Myrmidon Flight, requesting final clearance."
"Clearance granted, good hunting."
Lee exhaled heavily. "Roger that."
He opened the throttles, the heavy ship lurching forward. After flying Vipers the Raptor was like moving in slow motion, every action taking four or five times as long to respond. The acceleration was steady, the bracing on the covered deck flickering by as he approached the exit, then he was in open space. To his right the grey wall of the Heroic's bow loomed over him, and to his left was Kobol. It was an amazing sight, Lee was no great believer, but seeing such a rich world from orbit was nothing less than a spiritual moment. Unlike the Colonies, surrounded in satellites and ships, this world was untouched, unspoiled. It was something amazing.
"Hammer Flight, Myrmidon Flight." Lee contacted the gunships. "Ready to go?"
"Affirmative Myrmidon Flight, we'll form on you and head for the deck."
Lee turned the nose of his craft, the blue and white world dominating his vision. He couldn't wait to set foot on it.
Behind him the Heroic launched a squadron of fighters, the Marine Vipers camouflaged in shades of grey and green instead of the single shade Navy planes wore. They scattered from the sides of the flight pod and streaked past, lined up to go in first and take out any installations that lit up the Raptors.
"This is Mudskipper." The lead Viper pilot greeted. "We're in position to begin Hornet Baiting, everything set?"
"All set." Lee answered. "We're on our way down, right behind you."
"Understood Myrmidon Flight, Hammer Flight."
Lee increased power. They would go in fast, full throttle all the way down. A jump was considered too risky; they'd be doing it the old fashioned way and relying on the firepower of the escorts to keep them safe.
"We'll sweep the area and look for targets." Mudskipper informed. "Let's go crash us a party."
The Vipers snapped hard around and burned their main engines, picking up velocity as they closed on Kobol. The fighters would be vulnerable during re-entry, the heat and magnetism affecting their DRADIS until they made it down to blue skies. As such they were making the transition as fast as they could, taking their fighters to the edges of their stress tolerances.
The Raptors moved in behind, slower but still accelerating faster than average. Lee watched his instruments carefully, he'd never tried this in a Raptor before and wasn't about to screw up in front of half the fleet, not to mention the Marines. The honor of the Navy was at stake here, and he wouldn't give those Jarheads the satisfaction.
Behind them the Heroic launched her last craft, a Taurus class heavy assault vessel. Most Marines called them 'Dragon Wagons' on account of the immense amount of fire they could hurl out at a given target. In this instance the assault ship was bringing in the Marine's vehicles, 14 armored Landrams to give them a little support. They weren't the more potent Minotaur AFV's used by true armored units but unlike the Minotaur's, Landrams had tracks. Carthan wanted speed in this operation, and the Landrams could be damn fast when they wanted to be.
The Taurus followed at a safe distance, picking its own landing site a few miles from the primary target to drop off its cargo and then act as the local command post. A good chunk of the battalion staff was inside watching every move the team made. No pressure at all then.
"Entering the upper atmosphere." Lee reported, perfectly on cue as the ship jolted. "Getting some ionization on the hull, going to get a little choppy."
"Great." The stern Marine officer grunted, virtually blaming Lee for the existence of turbulence.
"It's a bonus; make us harder to spot at altitude." He offered simply.
He held formation, the other Raptors barely visible as vapor whipped past the canopy. It took quite some skill to stay on approach, the auto pilot only able to cope with small adjustments in descent. It was up to Lee and his instincts to handle the turbulence buffeting the craft, one severe bump and he could find himself entering the lower atmosphere hundreds of miles off course.
"Estimate forty seconds to stable transition." He reported. "Ninety until we hit dirt."
"Time to lock and load." Hafoka ordered with relish.
"Fighters are breaking and moving into SEAD positions." Lee checked DRADIS. "Gunships are staying close with us."
If everything went well all three elements would arrive in sequence, fighters, gunships, then troop transports with the assault ship a couple of minutes behind. Everything was going by the numbers.
The Vipers successfully transitioned fully through into the atmosphere where their DRADIS's snapped on in perfect working order without the interference from the transition from space. Without even bothering to look to their DRADIS to see if they had been locked up the Viper squadron performing the 'Hornet Baiting' SAED mission executed well rehearsed evasive maneuvers with half the squadron diving for the deck. The other half began pulling hard banks and twisting turns while deploying chaff and pushing their electronic countermeasures to the max. Once they were satisfied there wasn't incoming ordinance only then did they check their DRADIS and scan the skyline around them.
"All Vipers, this is Mudskipper Lead, let's get busy. Ducky, take Saber Flight and begin sweeping the outer edges of the target perimeter, make some serious noise! Fox Flight, you're with me, it's time to give these grave robbing fraks their wake up call!"
PXG-147
"I've got to be honest Mike; the Ancients were anything but original." Air Force Master Sergeant Jeremy Bosworth stood looking around the area while throwing a sideways smirk at the addressee, Doctor Mike Balinsky. Balinsky, the assigned scientist and archeologist on Bosworth's team, SG-13, had grown accustomed to Bosworth's humor and decided to play along.
"Oh yeah, how's that Jeremy?"
"Well, as far as I can tell it's like they had a secret addiction to Portland, Oregon or something. Every hit we've gotten on them or their tech seems to be in someplace like the Pacific Northwest. For such advanced people, they lacked some originality. How about Aruba or something?" With that he looked towards the sky, mostly dark blue with a hint of overcast.
Balinsky, who had been carefully examining some sort of column adorned with various runes, wiped his eyes, smiled and looked over. "Well, we think they chose temperate environments on each world for the moderate weather. I can't say I blame them; you want to go to Abydos or Dakara?"
Bosworth could only moan and shake his head at the thought. He'd seen enough deserts thank you very much. "No thanks."
The third member of the team, Air Force Staff Sergeant Eric Wade, laughed at Bosworth's desert discomfort as he adjusted the sling of his custom M-4 carbine. He'd spent six months in eastern Afghanistan as a Combat Controller assigned to an Army Special Forces team hunting Al-Qaeda elements and had seen enough mountains and deserts for a while. "Don't worry Jeremy; I'm sure a nice six month vacation to the Middle East can be arranged."
"Fuck that."
With that all three men went back to their duties, the two Air Force members providing security as their teammate Dr. Balinsky continued his work. Since setting up camp on the unpopulated world, the SGC and IOA researchers and scientists had been begging and pleading to be allowed farther out into the countryside to investigate the seemingly never-ending ruins. Colonel Dixon, the head of SG-13 and the deployment's commander, had been hamstrung by a lack of military personnel, the largest group being the combat engineers constructing the base camp. Dixon would not allow any science party outside the immediate area of the camp without at least two escorts. As such it had limited their scientist's efforts. Good news had arrived from the SGC in the form of over 50 more Air Force personnel who were to arrive any day.
A few minutes passed in relative silence as Balinsky did his work, taking photos and making scrupulous notes in a book. Bosworth and Wade, their eyes surveying the surrounding area for threats, had been quietly discussing the ongoing Major League Baseball season, highlighted for them by the first-place Colorado Rockies.
"I'm telling you no one will stop them in the NL."
Bosworth just shook his head. "That may be, but then they'll probably meet the Red Sox in the Series again and get stomped like last time."
"I don't know about that."
"Hey Jeremy?"
"Yeah Mike."
"About how far are we from the camp?"
"We're about 5 clicks away. We made good…"
WHOOSH
Bosworth was suddenly interrupted by the telltale sound of a jet engine at low altitude and it was apparent that it was very low and very fast. The eyes of all three men widened suddenly and for Bosworth and Wade, training kicked in.
Bosworth pointed at Balinsky. "No way that's ours. Mike, grab your shit now! We need to get back to the camp! Eric, take point!"
"Got it."
Both Airmen brought their weapons to the ready position as Bosworth grabbed Balinsky and threw him roughly between them. With that the small party began running in the direction of the encampment.
Back at the SGC camp, the sudden and unexpected arrival of fast-moving aircraft had caught Colonel Dixon as he walked from one out-building to another. Dixon looked to the air to see a fighter-like aircraft he wasn't familiar with streak over the camp at an incredible speed at no more than 200 feet high. If the camp had had glass windows they would have been shattered easily. Dixon's eyeballs bulged and he muttered "Shit" as he broke into a sprint. He ran in the direction of a sandbag and wood bunker that served as the camp's BDOC or Base Defense Operations Center. Upon entering he encountered Petty Officer Vargas, one of the Navy SEALS from SG-44 who had the duty of manning it that afternoon.
"Was that what I thought it was sir?"
Dixon ignored Vargas as he grabbed his tactical radio. "End Zone, this is Dixon."
"This is End Zone."
"Activate the gate and dial the SGC! Advise them we have aircraft of unknown origin and intent buzzing the camp. No idea about ground troops but it's a good bet. Once you contact them; hold the gate as long as you can. If you can't, then evacuate to Earth! Do you copy?"
"Roger that sir!"
Dixon turned to Vargas. "How many people do we have outside the wire?"
"Ten. The three from your team and then Lieutenant Hailey and Commander Harper took five scientists out but they're on their way back now." As if to confirm this, Lt. Cdr. Harper came running in.
"Colonel, we've got more than fighters! I saw what has to be some sort of troop-carrying ship. Little smaller than a Chinook with jet engines."
"Fuck!" Dixon activated his tactical radio again. "Bosworth, this is Dixon. You copy?"
"Go sir!"
"What's your status?"
"We're about three to four clicks out and moving as quick as we can!"
"Haul some ass Jeremy, the area just got busy!"
"Copy!"
With that he turned to Vargas. "Get on the radio. Have all position go to Delta and have all the civilians go to the bunkers. Get the engineers to reinforce the PDP's and ECP's." Dixon was referring to the Perimeter Defense Positions and Entry Control Points that ringed the perimeter of the camp.
"Yes sir."
Marine Strike Force
Above Kobol
The Raptors of Alpha Company descended through the atmosphere with a swiftness that belied their size and bulk. Packed inside as tight as sardines in a can, more than one hundred sixty Marines were locked and loaded and thrumming with nervous anticipation. Behind them the Raptors of Beta, Constellation and Echo companies broke off and moved to their assigned sectors to begin their landing operations.
"Thirty seconds till touchdown," Lee informed from the pilots seat. The Marines exchanged nervous and excited glances, whispered last minutes prayers and spoke words of encouragement to the newer members of their unit. On another Raptor, Marine aircrews were doing their job.
"Ares Six, Hammer Lead picking up increased level of chatter coming from the target. I think they know we're incoming."
"Hammer Lead, Ares Six. Kill it," came the curt response.
"Roger that!" The pilot replied. Looking back to his back-seater, the pilot grinned as his DRADIS intercept officer gave him the thumbs up.
SGC Forward Operating Base
PXG-147
Dixon walked over to a map overlay of the camp that showed its defenses and the surrounding area and looked to Harper. "Jon I want you to…"
"Colonel!"
Dixon looked over to Vargas, who was manipulating the tactical radio set.
"We've gone dark sir. We're being jammed by someone and it's effective. I can't get anything but dead air."
"Shit. Okay, Jon, I want you to get out and establish that our perimeter posts are fully spun up. I'm going to grab Major Whittier and his SF team as a response force should we get hit anywhere on the perimeter."
"No problem. I'd recommend that as soon as you get them; have one of Whittier's guys take over BDOC. Vargas is a sniper and I want him in position to provide cover." Dixon nodded and Harper turned to Vargas. "Sam, as soon as you get relieved, take the Barrett and go find yourself a good spot." Vargas nodded and Harper ran from the bunker as a deafening sound was heard overhead, sounding like a 747 was about to land on the roof of the bunker.
Marine Strike Force
"Landing zone in sight, ten seconds till touchdown," Lee informed from the cockpit. The Marines straightened up in their seats and gripped their weapons tighter.
"Touchdown in three…two…one….touchdown!" The Raptors settled with a jolt and twin side doors popped open. The Marines filed out in a well executed maneuver as they quickly established a secure perimeter weapons at the ready and scanning their surroundings.
"Ares Six, Alpha One Actual. Alpha Company on the ground and securing landing site one. No casualties."
"Ares, Six, Beta One Actual. Beta Company on the ground and securing landing zone. No casualties"
"Ares Six, Constellation One Actual. Constellation Company is on the ground at landing zone site three. All secure. No casualties."
"Ares Six, Echo One Actual. Echo Company is on the ground and securing landing zone. No casualties."
"Ares Six, Headquarters One Actual. Headquarters Company touching down now. We will establish RETRANS sites and set up indirect fire support as soon as our LZ is secure. No casualties to report."
"NET CALL, NET CALL this is Ares Six. Confirmed and understood successful securing of primary landing zones. Proceed with phase two of the operation. Tighten the noose boys and girls. Beta Company, keep our landing zone secure. We're coming down to deploy Daggit Troop."
Captain Hafoka briefly checked in with her platoon leaders while her first sergeant conferred with her senior NCOs. A detail was established to guard their Raptors but also to keep a troublesome fleet captain out of their way.
"Captain Adama," Captain Hafoka waved over. Lee crouched down and moved swiftly to her side next to one of her platoon leaders and the company first sergeant behind cover.
"Captain Adama you will remain here with the rest of our pilots until the 'Dragon Wagon' has touched down and you've received your package. Then and only then will I consider allowing you to join us. Alpha Company will advance to the target and set up the perimeter. We're leaving now."
"Now, wait just a minute captain-"
"No Captain Adama. I will not have some fleet flyboy pretending to be a Marine interfere with my frakking mission. I have good real Marine air controllers who can do the job better than you. Marines I trust. And I don't trust you or why your father sent you."
Lee stiffened. Captain Hafoka noticed and responded with a superior smirk "Yeah, that's right. I know you're the fleet commander's son. Doesn't change the fact that I have a mission to accomplish. Besides, your mandate for being with us was to protect Doctor Cyrus when he eventually gets on the ground. He's not here is he? Which means you can't protect him from the front lines when he hasn't even touched down."
Lee glowered in response. He knew she was right, what's more he knew she knew it too.
Hafoka smirked to him then signaled her people to begin their advance. They moved out with their lead platoon out front with their second and third platoons on both flanks and the headquarters platoon pulling up the rear. Just as their units began to disappear into the nearby tree line Hafoka turned back to address Lee. "And just for the record Captain, I am the queen bitch you think I am. Don't ever forget it." And with a departing one finger salute Alpha Company disappeared from sight while Lee Adama prayed that his package would get on the ground soon. His ability to accomplish both of his assigned tasks which seemed easy enough during his briefing now seemed totally at odds with one another.
Not too far off a different struggle was underway. "Let's go Mike! Keep moving!" Bosworth pushed the scientist along as the three men made a mad dash for their compound and the relative safety of its walls. While moving they had watched as more ships, certainly troop transports of some variety had over-flown the area and landed nearby. Their only hope of making it back was speed which meant sacrificing some stealth. Bosworth and Wade were both experienced Air Force special operators who knew how to avoid detection; having Balinsky along would only slow down their effort. Soon enough they were confronted by an open patch of field; going around would eat up valuable time but traversing it would leave them exposed. Bosworth was forced into a split second decision and decided to take the risk. The three began crossing the field only a kilometer and a half from the camp.
"Keep moving Mike, we're almost there. Eric, we clear back there?"
"Clean so far, nothing."
"Oh fuck!"
Before he could react, Bosworth was confronted by several well-armed men in military uniforms and body armor blocking their advance as well as more in the tree line. They all had their weapons pointed at the small group. Bosworth knew immediately that the game was up; the unknown group had the drop on them and there was no cover to speak of.
"Colonial Marines! Drop your weapons now!"
Bosworth slowly brought his M-4 down from the ready position and motioned for Wade to do the same. "Easy guys, we mean no harm. My name is Master Ser…"
"I don't give a frak who you are! Drop your frakking weapons now and lay down on the ground with your arms spread! Do it or we'll frakking shoot you where you stand!"
"Alright guys, let's do what they ask." Slowly the group divested themselves of their rifles, pistols and other weapons and lowered themselves to the ground. Suddenly they were descended upon by the armed group like a pack of wolves and the beating started. Balinsky received a quick and sudden kick to the diaphragm that was followed by the air escaping his lungs.
"You grave-robbing fraks are gonna get yours now!"
Six of the Colonial Marines proceeded to first tie up the three SGC personnel and then each received a series of vicious punches and kicks to vulnerable areas that left them reeling. Balinsky had blood streaming from his nose and Wade was trying to regain his breath as more punches landed in his mid-section. Finally, a Marine NCO called a halt to the one-sided boxing match.
"Alright, they've had enough for now. Get 'em up and let's get them to the LZ for pickup." The NCO turned to the three with a clear look of disdain. "If you frakkers have any hope of getting outta here in one piece, you better be prepared to talk." The three SGC personnel simply caught their breath and stayed quiet as they were led down the path. Along the way each received a couple of cheap shots from random Marines with looks of hate in their eyes. Soon enough they found themselves in another clearing near the base, except this one was full of small troop-ship looking craft that none of the SGC team had ever seen before. Each was dragged over to one and roughly thrown to the ground without care. Finally, a somewhat large man clad and armed like the others came over and stood over the seated men. He hadn't been authorized to question the prisoners but no one was stopping him either.
"My name is Sergeant Hadlin, Colonial Marines. You are going to answer my questions right now or I'm going to let my Marines," with a jerk of his finger over his left shoulder Hadlin pointed to five very mean looking soldiers, "teach you how to talk." Hadlin turned to Wade. "Let's start with you. Well? I'm waiting."
Wade looked up at the imposing man and kept a neutral face, even if it was stained in his blood. "Staff Sergeant Eric Wade, United States Air Force, Serial Number 033-78-9075."
Hadlin's eyebrows arched. "Excuse me?"
"Staff Sergeant Eric Wade, United States Air Force, Serial Number 033-78-9075."
"What does that mean? What the frak does 'United States Air Force' mean?"
"Staff Sergeant Eric Wade, United Sta…" Wade's recitation was cut short by a swift fist connecting with his jaw, sending a stream of blood flying from his lip.
"You frakker! You do not want to be playing games with us. You come here and defile the home of the Gods! We got enough firepower here to turn your friends into target practice. The only way they get out of here alive is you helping us!" With that, Hadlin's attention turned to Bosworth, whose face had stayed neutral as well throughout. "Who are you and why are you here?"
"Master Sergeant Jeremy Bosworth, United States Air Force, Serial Number 156-89-1732."
Hadlin merely crossed his large arms and looked over at his Marines. "Apparently we've got some actors here as well as heretics." He turned to Balinsky. "And you?"
"Doctor Michael Balinsky, Civilian, United States Department of Defense, Social Security Number 039-44-6199."
With that, Hadlin shrugged his shoulders as if not having a care in the world and leaving the three to their fates. "Alright, that's how you want to play it." He turned to his men. "Gentlemen, please loosen some tongues."
The five Colonial Marines stepped forward and began assaulting the three prisoners with their fists and feet, taking turns with each and swapping victims randomly. The three SGC men didn't speak except to grunt in pain or in Balinsky's case, to cry out in pain after a couple of choice shots to his already tender mid-section. Wade and Bosworth on several occasions tried to draw the Marines' attention away from Balinsky in an attempt to protect the civilian scientist. This went on for a couple of minutes until the sergeant waved off his men.
"Anything to say now, you frakking heretics?"
Bosworth, who was lying on his side, simply spit blood from his mouth and looked up at the Marine. "Master Sergeant Jeremy Bosworth, United States Air Force, Serial Number 156…" Before he could finish, Sergeant Hadlin reared back and launched a sharp kick to Bosworth's side that sent him over again. The scene was suddenly interrupted by a loud and furious scream.
"Just what the frak is going on!"
Sergeant Hadlin looked over to see a Colonial Fleet pilot coming stalking over, a look of sheer venom in his eyes as if ready for a fight. "I asked you a frakking question sergeant!"
"Sergeant Hadlin, sir, we're just…"
"I didn't ask your frakking name! What were you doing?"
"We were just…"
Lee Adama was incensed and ready to kill. He'd had a bad feeling that this sort of thing would happen and he'd just been proven right. "Just what? Beating the frak out of a defenseless prisoner? You guys are real frakking tough." With that Adama walked right up to the sergeant and went face to face with the larger man. "Did you even have authority to question anyone sergeant?"
"No, but we're facing…"
"I didn't frakking think so." Lee turned to the group. "I want all of you to go sit in that Raptor over there and not leave. I don't give a frak if the whole Cylon fleet shows up. I'm reporting all of you for violations of the Articles of War. Now go!"
None of the Marines dared to argue or disobey the Fleet officer and walked away like scolded children. Adama pointed to another pair of Marines who'd just arrived on the scene.
"Corporal!"
The young Marine sprinted over. "I want two guards on these prisoners. Move them to that Raptor over there. They are not to be questioned or harmed. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir!"
Unknown to Adama, Bosworth and Wade shared a quick look and a knowing glance. They'd seen this play before. Both were graduates of the Air Force's Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape or SERE school and had seen this play before. Rough up the detainees and then send in the compassionate one who tries to be your friend. An advanced version of the old Good Cop/Bad Cop routine. Both silently agreed that the new arrival could go fuck himself just as much as the last crew. They wouldn't talk.
Lee Adama watched as the three prisoners were escorted away to a holding Raptor. He took the time to study them for the first time and he was intrigued by what he saw. Immediately, something set off alarm bells in his head but without further information he couldn't place it. Something wasn't right.
Stargate Command
Another day was coming to a close at the SGC, and like any other US military installation the daytime contingent would be turning things over to the night crew to manage. It had actually been a slower than normal day by the SGC's standards, with a couple of diplomatic missions and supply and personnel transfers to the Alpha and Beta sites highlighting the schedule. The day's Officer of the Watch, Air Force Lt. Col. Tom Cordes, wasn't exactly complaining as he finished up his paperwork for the day. Cordes had worked busier ones and he didn't mind the occasional snoozer. He had about 15 minutes before his relief would be taking over and he had plans with his wife for the night to go to dinner, plans he wanted to keep. As he signed off on the last reports, his dinner plans got wiped out.
An alarm sounded as the technician called out the all-too-familiar warning. "Unscheduled off-world activation!"
Cordes sprang from his seat with an annoyed look. "Close the iris. Alert the defense team."
The familiar sound of the iris shutting greeted the dozen Security Forces troops who entered the embarkation room and took up their designated positions. The two .50 caliber machine guns along with personnel weapons were brought to bear on the closed event horizon. In the control room Cordes waited for the technician's report.
"Sir, we're receiving an audio and visual signal via MALP from our expedition on PXG-147."
Cordes wracked his brain for a moment without bothering to refer to the nearby chart that tracked all missions. It came to him quickly, remembering that it was Colonel Dixon's mission to the abandoned Ancient city.
"Bring it up."
A picture soon appeared on the video screen showing a man in BDU's staring into the MALP's camera. Cordes immediately sensed trouble as the man on the other end had a look of severe concern on his face, but not panic.
"Sierra Gulf Charlie, this is Sierra Gulf Four Four, how copy?
Cordes grabbed the nearby microphone. "Sierra Gulf Four Four, Sierra Gulf Charlie reads you loud and clear. Go with authentication."
"Authentication Five Zulu Quebec Sierra Four Nine. How copy?"
Cordes turned and looked at the technician, who'd already authenticated the code and nodded.
"Sierra Gulf Four Four, authentication accepted. Go with message."
"SGC, be advised we have a Rainfall Condition, I say again, Rainfall Condition. How copy?"
Cordes blanched. Like any typical military operation of such magnitude, the SGC had codes for all manner of situations. In this case, a Rainfall Condition meant an unknown and potentially hostile force had appeared and was threatening SGC personnel.
"We copy. Rainfall Condition. What's your current status?"
"In the last few minutes both our encampment and the surrounding area have been over flown by high-speed aircraft. Unknown if they're space-based. We've also seen what look like possible troop transports landing in the vicinity of the compound. Since then our communications with Colonel Dixon and the BDOC have been cut. I think it's some form of jamming. Two of us are hold up at the gate, no sign of hostiles. Request instructions. Over."
"Standby." Cordes grabbed an unassuming black phone nearby and waited as it immediately rang.
"General Landry."
"Sir, this is Colonel Cordes in the control room. We have a team reporting a Rainfall Condition."
"On my way."
Less than two minutes later General Landry came bounding into the room. "Status?"
Cordes looked up from the screen. "I have a member of SG-44 on video and audio feed from PXG-147's gate sir. He's reporting aircraft buzzing their compound and possible troop landings. Their communications with Colonel Dixon have been cut; possible jamming."
"Shit" Landry muttered under his breath as he went for the microphone. "This is Landry, who am I speaking with?"
"Sir, this is Petty Officer Gamble, SG-44."
"Be advised, we'll start organizing a response here. Can you hold your position?"
"As of now, yes sir. We've had no sightings of potential hostiles yet but they're still overflying the area."
"Copy that. Hold the gate, Gamble, as long as practicable. If you can't hold any longer evacuate through to either here or to an alternate site."
"Copy sir."
"SGC out."
Landry looked over at Cordes. "Initiate a recall of all section heads."
With that Landry walked over to another phone bank and lifted a receiver. "This is General Landry, get me the NMCC."
SGC Forward Operating Base
Dixon knew he wasn't in a good position, no, it was a horrible one. His command was in an exposed location, seemingly surrounded by a force of unknown strength and quality, his communications were cut off and three of his men were trapped outside the wire and possibly killed or captured. Internally he raged that he couldn't help his team, after all they were his men and his friends. But he also had 70 others who were depending on him. That had to take priority. He stood in BDOC and considered his options. His radio communications was cut off, so unless the SGC dialed in and broke the jamming, they weren't calling home. He could only communicate with his positions through runner or field phone. He had considered ordering a hasty dash for the gate but they had no idea what type of force lay between them and the ruins. As it was, this mysterious force also had ample air cover and could devastate them in an open dash.
"Have we been able to break through any of this jamming? Can we at least contact our guys at the gate?"
The Airman manning the radio shook his head. "Negative sir, they're blanketing the net good. We're getting nothing."
Dixon swore to himself and looked at his plot board outlining his defenses. He raged internally that the SGC had left him out here so naked; he lacked even the most basic sensor or video surveillance systems such as TASS or the Army's new RAID system. All that had been planned for the follow-on force and had he had them now might have afforded him a much clearer picture of what he faced. His perimeter was fully manned and Commander Harper and Major Whittier were making the rounds checking everyone's status. His observation positions were reporting large numbers of troops slowly encircling the compound from all sides. Whoever these people were, they knew vertical envelopment tactics well he mused. Harper stumbled back into BDOC and motioned Dixon over to the map.
"They've got us boxed in good and surrounded. I saw movement on all sides. Whoever they are, they're well armed and equipped. Automatic weapons of some sort, body armor, helmets, the works."
"Shit."
"There's more."
"There's more?"
"I saw what looks to be some sort of indirect fire weapon, possibly mortars. At least a few of them."
Dixon exhaled audibly. "They've got us in a world of hurt then."
This was their worst nightmare come true. Dixon, and by extension Landry, had begged, pleaded and twisted arms to get a larger force for the tiny, isolated outpost. For years the SGC and the nations of the IOA had been playing the military game on the cheap, due to a number of factors: economics, secrecy, take your pick. Now that policy, one that had worked out alright in the past, was blowing up in their collective faces.
"Sir, we're receiving message traffic in the open on all frequencies." With that the Airman turned up the speakers on the radio set. Dixon walked over and listened to the broadcast.
"This is Captain Leonie Hafoka of the Colonial Marine Corps. Under the authority of the government of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, you are ordered to lay down your weapons and surrender. Failure to comply with this lawful order will be met with deadly force. You are surrounded by units of the Colonial Marine Corps. Acknowledge this order immediately and comply. Over."
Dixon looked to Harper, who just shrugged, almost nervously. "Who the fuck is the Twelve Colonies of Kobol? I've been with the SGC for years and I've never heard of them."
Taurus Assault ship
Low Orbit
"Colonel, reports from ground-side units. All units are in position and a perimeter has been established. Calls for the outpost's surrender have been made but so far no response has been forthcoming." The lead technician paused as he placed a hand over his ear piece. "Ship to shore RETRANS sites are up and running and mortar platoons signal they're ready to begin fire missions. Gunships are orbiting the target. Mudskipper Squadron reports no surface-to-air DRADIS emissions or incoming fire. We control the skies."
"Has the enemy engaged our forces on the ground yet?" The colonel asked.
The technician shook his head in the negative, "Negative Sir, so far no reports of our units coming under fire, either direct or indirect."
Colonel Carthan nodded in satisfaction, they controlled local space and airspace on the planet and their troops completely encircled the enemy base camp, "Very good."
The technician frowned again as he listened to something intently from his earpiece. "Message relayed to Headquarters Company from Alpha One Actual. Alpha Company has secured three prisoners while en route to their objective. Two enemy combatants and what appears to be some sort of scientist. They're being sent to the rear for holding until they can be transferred to an interrogation team."
The Colonel grinned at that news. With prisoners from the base camp they could get real time actionable intelligence on just who they were dealing with, troop numbers, weapons, capabilities and just how to handle them effectively. This was an unexpected boon for the operation.
Dr. Cyrus stepped forward with a worried expression on his face. "Colonel, did I just hear that we took prisoners? Did you find anything valuable on them?"
The Colonel suppressed a scowl of frustration but answered in the crisp and professional manner of a Marine officer. "You did hear correctly, Doctor. They're being moved to Alpha's landing zone to await pickup. Nothing mentioned about valuables. The quicker we get down there, deploy our payload and get them on board the quicker we can get what we need from them and end this standoff favorably."
Cyrus frowned at that. He knew that the military didn't really understand the value of securing artifacts. "Do we know who they are and where they're from?" Cyrus asked with a hint of doubt showing through his features.
The Colonel raised an eyebrow at that then turned to share a look with the lead technician who shook his head in the negative.
"None," the Colonel answered. "Which in my book puts them firmly in the illegal enemy combatant camp, just as we thought. I know about the wild theories put forth during the big briefing on Galactica about these people possibly being from another world other than the Colonies. I personally don't buy it and neither do my men and women. There has been nothing on exotic clothing or weapons or any other that sci-fi fantasy equine-shit to suggest they're not from the Colonies. So they'll be treated as if they are from the Colonies until we learn different. Personally, I'm not holding my breath."
Cyrus scowled at that. Of course, why should he have expected anything different from Marines? Still, he didn't buy any of that crap either from Baltar about people from other worlds and such. His concerns were solely the treasures on Kobol and their preservation. Any destruction or theft would mean a major loss for the Colonial heritage and create potentially unbridgeable gaps of knowledge for archaeologists and historians. However, the good doctor's tirade aboard Galactica did succeed in raising a small speck of doubt. "All the same I need to get down there Colonel. My escort is at the landing site where Alpha Company landed. Let me go with the interrogation team to give my assessment."
The Colonel frowned at that. "Doctor, it's really not a good idea to let you go down there until we've wrapped up this situation. Then when the area is secure we can let you have complete run of the camp without fear of incident."
"I understand that Colonel. But something is telling me I've got to be down there. I know to hang back away from the front lines. You've lost nothing by letting me go down. And Commander Adama wants me on the ground as soon as possible."
The Colonel barely suppressed his annoyance at the archeologist for bringing up what was obviously a sore point for him before sighing in acceptance. "Fine, you can go. We're about to start landing procedures anyway. So hurry up and link up with the interrogation team. You'll be going in AWVs; up-armored gun-trucks, alone to the pickup site. I can't afford to spare you a landram as they're tasked to support the main ground operation."
Cyrus nodded. "I understand Colonel."
"Then you best hurry, Doctor. And be careful down there."
Cyrus nodded and headed aft to his ride. The Colonel nodded to the fleet major in charge of the assault ship and nodded. "Take us down Major. Commence landing."
"Aye, Colonel."
The engines of the Taurus Assault Ship flared to life as the ship orientated itself towards Kobol to deliver its payload.
SGC Forward Operating Base
"I repeat, this is Captain Leonie Hafoka of the Colonial Marine Corps. Under the authority of the government of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, you are ordered to lay down your weapons and surrender. Failure to comply will be met with deadly force. Acknowledge this order and comply immediately."
Colonel Dixon had to admit it, the captain on the radio sounded serious and intent on backing up her threats. The voice and its tenor over the radio told him that; Dixon was well-versed in the 'command voice' and could project it well himself. Dixon took a moment to debate how to respond as he looked around BDOC. The faces looking at him in anticipation were those of men whose lives were in his hands and those lives depended on his response to the captain's threats. But at the end of the day, his duty as commander mattered the most.
Dixon keyed his mike. "This is Colonel David Dixon of the United States Air Force. Be advised that we are a peaceful mission of exploration and scientific research operating under the authority of the governments of Earth and the International Oversight Advisory. We have no knowledge of the 'Twelve Colonies of Kobol' but would be open to peaceful dialogue. Be advised however that we will defend ourselves if attacked. Please respond."
At Alpha Company's position, Captain Hafoka could barely contain her annoyance and rage. She turned to her first sergeant. "Of all the cover stories to come up with, the best these grave robbing fraks could come up with is the Thirteenth Tribe? Please!" Her NCO merely shrugged his shoulders in annoyance as well. Hafoka answered.
For Dixon, this gave whole new meaning to the old saying 'Exactly what planet do you live on anyway?'. It wasn't as funny this time around. "This is Captain Hafoka to the individual calling himself 'Colonel Dixon'. Attempting to deceive us by claiming to be the Thirteenth Tribe will not work. You will order your people to disarm and exit the compound or we will be forced to respond."
"Thirteenth Tribe? Exactly what is this bitch talking about?" Dixon was honestly confused; in all of his time at the SGC, he'd never once heard Earth or humanity referred to in that way. Things were going downhill quickly in what was obviously a First Contact gone wrong and apparently a case of mistaken identity. He took a moment to reassess his situation. Obviously these 'Colonial Marines' thought he and his people were something they were not. Maybe criminals, illegal squatters or something along those lines but one thing that was obvious was that they weren't all that interested in talking. Outgunned, Dixon came to the quick conclusion that the only way out was to get them to do exactly that.
"This is Colonel Dixon to Captain Hafoka. Please be advised that we have no knowledge of what you refer to as a "Thirteenth Tribe". I state again that we are a peaceful scientific mission operating under the jurisdiction of the governments of Earth. We have no hostile intentions and would like to open a dialogue but be advised, we will defend ourselves if attacked."
Marine Strike Force
The Taurus Class Assault Ship penetrated the atmosphere with a thunderous roar that that no one could have missed for miles in any direction to the joy of some and the growing worry of others. Inside the ship's reinforced armor plated hull, designed to shrug out ground to orbit weapons, dozens of Marines in their combat vehicles waited nervously for the go order inside revved up Landram Mark IIs, while a smaller team of Marines and one nervous doctor waited in their armored wheeled vehicle gun-trucks. The ship descended more smoothly than its blocky form would suggest. Escorted by a flight of Vipers from Heroic as she made her way in, with guns traversing left and right and ECM suites pushed to maximum the 'Dragon Wagon' sailed unmolested from low orbit to its landing zone within a matter of minutes. The Assault Ship hovered briefly over its targeted landing zone to orientate itself for the best landing position before finally settling down with a heavy thud that could be felt throughout from stem to stern. Immediately heavy airlocks cycled open and ramps descended till they met the soft dirt of Kobol. From those ramps deployed the Landram Mark IIs of Daggit Troop in a single-file line under the cover of the assault ship's heavy kinetic cannons until all fourteen combat vehicles were deployed on the ground. The troop's three support vehicles pulled off to the side to make way for a smaller group of four lightly armored gun-trucks.
As soon as the vehicles successfully transitioned from ship to shore two platoons from Beta Company broke from their cover and concealment to linkup with the Landrams and the armored gun trucks with most of the men going toward the Landrams and one squad moving to augment the security detail for the gun trucks. As soon as all personnel were loaded the vehicles moved off with cautious haste.
"All units this is Daggit One Actual, be advised Daggit Troop is on the ground. We are loading up augmentee elements from Beta Company at this time. Once we finish loading we will push off to our assigned sectors. Daggit One Actual, out."
The loading of the augment elements finished up shortly after the commander's announcement and within seconds the vehicles of Daggit Troop were on the move. Shortly after disappearing from sight the convoy of AMVs charged and readied their weapons, then pushed off shortly afterwards intent on their own mission.
"How you doing back there, Doc?" The lead officer for the interrogation team, a Marine major, asked from the front side passenger seat. In the back seat behind him and sweating profusely either from the heat or from nervousness was Dr. Cyrus.
"I'm fine back here Major," the Doctor assured. "It's just that I didn't expect to face an enemy army waiting to make off with some valuable relics."
The Major turned back partially to view his passenger and nodded. "Don't worry Doc; we'll be there before you know it. I doubt we'll have to worry about running into enemy combatants this far out."
Nevertheless, the Marines in the convoy didn't let their guard down. Gunners communicated with their vehicle commanders as they scanned their assigned sectors. Marines along for the ride scanned out their windows almost eagerly for any view of the enemy. It was all efficient, crisp and very terse time in the convoy. No idle chitchat was heard over the comm net as each Marine knew to keep the net clear so they could monitor their own battle space as well as that of the overall situation. Occasionally the troops in the convoy would catch snippets of valuable information passed over the net; with units from each company linking up with units from other companies as the perimeter around the target was slowly established.
And inside the AMV Doctor Cyrus heard it all, without uttering a sound as the convoy cautiously proceeded to its destination.
Battlestar Galactica
"Commander Adama, Relay from Heroic. Daggit Troop is on the ground and is moving to support our forces establishing their outer cordon." Dualla responded from her post.
"Anything on hostile actions taken by the unknowns on Kobol?" Adama asked.
Dualla shook her head, "Negative sir. Reports are that our forces have complete control of local airspace. Ground forces have established a perimeter around the base camp. No shots have been fired yet. No casualties sustained."
Both Tigh and Adama shared a frown at that. Predictably, Tigh was the one to give voice to what they were both thinking "No attempt at escape? No shots fired? You'd think a rogue force would be throwing everything they have at them by now."
"They'd be smashed flat and they know it," Adama countered.
"With the kind of men who'd be crazy enough to sign up for something like this? That wouldn't make a damn bit of difference, Bill. Self preservation doesn't really factor into it with these guys. It's all about big risks and big money. If you're crazy enough to pull this kind of stunt you have to figure you're gonna run into the law or the Fleet eventually. We see it all the time back home with pirates and smugglers engaging Fleet units. They'd rather go out in a blaze of glory than rot in a prison cell."
Adama's frown deepened. "Unless they're operating under similar rules of engagement we are," he put forth thoughtfully.
Tigh scowled, "Why should they? It won't make one bit of difference when we get home. Either way they're looking at life in prison or in a penal colony. They didn't engage the Vipers conducting SEAD missions nor try to repulse the initial landings. They haven't tried to withdraw or try to negotiate a surrender that doesn't involve them going home in shackles. Whoever's in charge, for a pirate commander, this guy isn't very bright. Thank the Gods!"
Adama had to agree on that point which only heightened his apprehension further, though he knew not why. By all accounts, the mission was moving along better than they could have hoped for, so why this feeling of apprehension? Why this feeling they were heading for one major frak-up? He couldn't explain it. Tigh knew as he did that this would never see the light of day. An illegal smuggling operation of this magnitude, on Kobol, right under the government's nose would be a major political embarrassment to the Adar Administration. Added to the fact that whoever was down there had violated the Cimtar Accords in a major way by going beyond the Red Line without the federal government's permission, thus making it a national security issue; practically guaranteeing it would never be made public. The men responsible for it would be rounded up and dealt with in secret military tribunals and not public courts. For all intents and purposes, they would be erased from existence. Not even the Inter-Colonial Court on Libris could help them. And those men down there had to know it too. So whether they fired a shot or not the resulting prison sentence handed down by a military tribunal wouldn't be in their favor by any stretch of the word.
So why not make a fight of it? Why not try and hold the historical treasures of Kobol hostage and try to cut a deal? If you're gutsy enough to brave uncharted space and possible encounters with the Cylons then you're just gutsy enough to take on Marines and the Battlestar Group that brought them. But whoever was down there wasn't making a fight of it. Their inaction made no sense. And that worried Adama.
"Sir I couldn't help but overhear," Lieutenant Gaeta added. "There is something else to consider as well."
Tigh looked like he was ready to blow a gasket at the junior officer for interrupting but Adama motioned for him to elaborate. He preferred when his officers spoke their minds. Sometimes they could give you valuable insights you otherwise hadn't considered.
"Well, sir, it just doesn't make sense to me. Not making a fight of it. Whoever is sponsoring this operation isn't going to want their names brought into the limelight. The list of people who could pull off something like this is small. And they usually have deep pockets and a long reach. What would stop such a person from having anyone in their employ eliminated before they could give up something?"
Tigh looked skeptical, "That's a bit of a reach. There is an estimated sixty to seventy people down there. No way could you get to them all before one of them gave something up."
"You wouldn't need to sir." Gaeta insisted. "Chances are most of them down there wouldn't know who hired them. It may only be a few individuals who actually know anything of worth. The rest may not know anything."
"Someone would talk then," Tigh said.
"What about their families back home?" Gaeta countered.
"No way is someone stupid enough to whack that many families and not expect someone to connect the dots," Tigh groused.
Adama sighed. They were getting off track; going into areas of wild speculation to try to make sense of a situation that was growing stranger by the minute. They needed to focus.
"Speculation is pointless at this point in time gentlemen," Adama said quietly but firmly. "We can interrogate whoever is down there later. Right now let's focus on ending this situation with a minimal of bloodshed."
"Aye sir," Both Gaeta and Tigh acknowledged. Gaeta went back to monitoring his station while Tigh made his rounds of the personnel in the pit.
Adama's eyes returned to the DRADIS display above the main table as he studied the read outs of the various ships and fighters moving in a well executed fashion. At some point his mind drifted onto the subject of the Orion. He was reminded by something that Dr. Cyrus had mentioned about the ship's shady crew and its questionable past. If they hadn't been lucky enough to spot the base camp and had just simply jumped in what would the Orion have done? There was no way to tell. The ship was safely hidden at their fall back point at the edge of the system under the protective cover of the Perseus. If the Orion tried anything funny, the Perseus, the Galactica or any of the gunstars could easily take care of it.
"Dee, are you picking up any chatter at all? Ship to shore transmissions of any kind emanating from the fleet?" Adama asked.
Dualla took a moment to check her boards before facing the commander and shaking her head in the negative.
Tigh moved closer to Adama's side and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Think the Orion might be their pickup ship?"
"The thought had occurred to me," Adama responded evenly. "She's certainly equipped to handle an operation like this."
"There's no way they're going to be able to pull something off under our noses, Bill."
Adama nodded. "I know."
"So why the worry?"
At this Adama's featured hardened. "I don't know."
Before Tigh could respond Dualla interjected, "Sir, relay from Heroic. The perimeter has been fully established. Daggit Troop is at the jump-off point. All units are awaiting the go order."
Adama nodded absently as he scanned over a map overview of the target. "Any word yet from Captain Adama?"
"Nothing sir."
"Keep me posted."
"Aye, sir," Dualla went back to intently monitoring her boards.
"So what do we do now?" Tigh groused irritably.
Adama smirked knowingly. His friend's near mythic impatience was well known to anyone who had ever served with him. "Now we wait. The ball's in play, let's see what the other side does."
Stargate Command
Since the frantic call from PXG-147, the SGC had started doing what it had always done best: crisis management. Each section at the SGC began following their checklists, the literal bibles of the US military as Landry began coordinating a response in the hopes of at the least extracting Dixon and his people. Men and woman were working the phones, recalling staff that had left as the command's leadership worked on contingency plans. Colonel Henson, the operations chief, entered the conference room as Landry put down a phone receiver and wiped his brow. Colonel Glyndon was on another phone in the corner with a stony countenance.
"What have you got Colonel?"
"I've spoken with Colonel Green at Carson. The Seventh Rangers have put their alert company on standby. They'll be ready in about one hour and their ops staff is already en-route to here. They can have a second company ready in four hours and the third will take longer as they were on their down cycle. I have 27 teams on home station status at the moment including the Brits, Russians and French and we're recalling them all. I also have those 50 SF troops who were supposed to deploy there in a couple of days and they've got a heavier-than-normal weapons package with them. So, we can put together a good sized strike package if we get the go for an extraction." Ever the aggressive fighter pilot that he'd always be, he wanted to go now.
"Alright, I have a teleconference with the Pentagon in five minutes. They're rushing the SECDEF and General Maynard over and I've gotten some calls from the NSC. Glyndon's on with them now. They'll probably brief the President soon. I'm going to recommend we prep the Prometheus and the Odyssey for a deployment and have Green's people start planning a recon through the gate."
"General, they may not last that long."
Landry put up a hand as if to slow Henson down. "I know, Bob. But I also don't have the same discretion Hammond used to have. They gave him a nice long leash and they've reined it in as you know. The IOA won't let us run and gun like they did six or seven years ago. We're not leaving them and we'll get them back."
Before Henson could respond, Carter walked into the room with a small handful of papers and a determined look that Landry had seen before. "Sir, I may have an option for contacting Colonel Dixon and his teams."
"All ears, Colonel."
"We can dramatically increase the power output on our communications nodes by…"
"Colonel, stop right there. I have a feeling this is about to get really technical. Can you put us in contact with our people and can it be done safely?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you believe it'll work?"
"Yes!"
"Do it. And let's hope Dixon is all ears as well."
Marine Strike Force
"Unidentified vehicle, you are approaching the outskirts of my perimeter. Identify yourself, immediately!" the NCO on the radio barked. Lee had to give the guy credit; he certainly sounded fierce and more than ready to make due on his threat even though it was probably a Colonial Marine unit on approach. A Colonial Marine sniper and his spotter along with the senior NCO on site were hidden behind a small outcropping of rocks less than a hundred and fifty meters from their landing point, at the very edge of their perimeter, the rest of the squad was spread out, while Lee remained with the three prisoners and a small security detail.
Lee could hear the challenge and the friendly reply of a friendly incoming unit before he pulled off the headset linking him into the battalion net. In the time since they had landed camouflage netting had been erected over the Raptors to hide them from view. The command Raptor had been converted into a makeshift Tactical Operations Center while the Raptor next to it held their prize captives.
Lee listened in on the radio chatter for a few seconds then dismissed it and returned his attention to the three men in front of him. His two Marines guards just outside the Raptor kept their weapons at the ready; fingers lightly caressing the triggers as they shot venomous glares at both the Fleet Captain and the three prisoners. Although these particular Marines had not assaulted their prisoners, neither had they intervened when their buddies did, and the Articles of War were clear on the matter. They had disobeyed a direct order from the fleet commander and the Articles of War that dealt with detaining and questioning personnel of interest. Lee had no doubt that in any normal situation these Marines might have acted with greater care. But since they had arrived on Kobol, Lee could see the Marines were charged in a way that could prove dangerous. Since the fleet's arrival small cracks in discipline had popped up here and there but had been mostly dismissed as simple exuberance. With all the pent-up frustration of the past two months and the sheer excitement that even the word Kobol seemed to generate, things were starting to get dangerously out of hand. Discipline was slipping and professionalism was thrown by the way side. Firefly's little stunt had been the worst infraction since their arrival which had permanently grounded him. Had Boomer not intervened when she did there's no telling how much damage Firefly could have done. Now it was the Marines beating up on detainees. The heightened tension, the disregard for discipline and professionalism and the abuse of detainees, Lee saw them as bad omens of things to come.
The convoy had arrived and with it his package, which presented Lee with a bit of a dilemma. So far he hadn't gotten much out of the detainees other than name, rank and serial numbers and a few other basic snippets of information that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. They were a team who had apparently been together for a while judging by the way they looked out for each other in a way a real unit would look after one another. Not something one would expect from a band of mercenaries where loyalty was to your paycheck first and foremost. The Marines had done a real number on them, particularly the scientist, perhaps sensing he was the one more likely to crack and give them the answers they wanted. His friends had attempted to come to his aid only to be roughed up themselves by the increasingly fanatical Marines, but it had worked in diverting their attention away from the doctor and towards them. It seemed to have the opposite effect the Marines intended as all three had clammed up and had not spoken a word since.
Since he had taken command of the situation Lee had tried a more reasonable approach in the hopes to assure them that they would not receive such treatment again. But unfortunately he wasn't making much headway as his captives regarded him with suspicion and wariness, but not hostility. He was hoping that was something he could work with. Gain their confidence bit by bit, appear reasonable, but ultimately leave no doubt he was in charge. That fact seemed to be slowly sinking in, but they still weren't talking and he was running out of time.
"Look, this isn't going to look good for you when we get back to the Colonies. Who hired you? What are you doing on Kobol? How long have you been here?"
The two soldiers exchanged glances then cast a concerned look over their companion but didn't say anything. They avoided eye contact with Lee for the most part, simply studying their surroundings with great care as if cataloguing everything for future reference, in particular where their weapons and gear was stashed. Lee had examined their gear after he had separated the prisoners from their Marine captors. Their equipment had a familiar yet alien feel to it that was disorientating. On the one hand, it definitely looked like something that would be produced in the Colonies. The carbines of the two soldiers in particular bore strong similarities to Carbine Leo-Brava's. Yet at the same time there were differences in the gas operating system, rail system and optics that he had never seen before. The caliber of the weapon, a 5.56mm round, was also smaller than anything he had ever seen. Not since the Cylon War had Colonial arms companies produced such a small caliber round. It would have almost no effect against Cylon Centurions and would be marginally effective against Colonial Marine body armor. The light pistol carried by the doctor was like nothing he had ever seen and probably ever would see. The light weapon had produced snickers of derision from the Marines who had examined it. Lee had to agree with them on that point. The 9mm round was too light to even to hurt someone in body armor let alone the armor of a Cylon Centurion. The weapon was ineffective to say the least.
And from there, the inconsistencies only mounted. Their body armor consisted of two plates of a ceramic material and a thin flexible sheet of ceramic polymer. While interesting in of itself, it was lighter than anything a military or paramilitary organization would allow its troops to wear. Communications equipment didn't match anything he had ever seen or heard about from the Colonies. The uniforms, a camouflage pattern of greens and browns, were like nothing ever utilized, even by militia or paramilitary groups. And the patches on their uniform were completely unfamiliar. When they spoke, as briefly as they did, Lee initially placed their accents as from Caprica and Picon, and yet….it didn't quite feel right. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He needed answers and he was sure the three in front of him had them. But their silence was not helping matters.
Lee sighed, "Look, I want to help you. But you got to give me something. The more you cooperate, the better things will be for you once we get back to the Colonies." The two soldiers once again shared glances only this time their glances were tinged with confusion. The scientist was simply staring at him aghast.
Lee sat down opposite of them and looked to each of them earnestly. "What the Marines did to you was uncalled for. A complete violation of the Articles of War as lay down by the Admiralty. There is no excuse for their behavior. But at the same time, you three have to understand the kind of trouble you're in. An illegal smuggling operation on the home-world of the Gods…." Lee trailed off for dramatic effect, which made the scientist twitch nervously "The courts back home are going to eat you alive for that. Unless you cooperate and give me something."
Balinski finally snapped. He wasn't a soldier and he had never been trained to resist torture or interrogation. "What the hell are you talking about!"
"Doc, no!" Wade snapped.
"We're here on a mission of exploration! What smuggling operation, what Colonies! I don't even know what you're talking about!" Balinski blurted out.
Lee looked to the man skeptically "The Twelve Colonies of Kobol, You seriously expect me to believe that you don't know about the Colonies?" Lee said evenly as he studied their faces intently. Three blank looks were all he got.
"No!"
Lee knotted his brow, the anger and frustration in the scientist boiling into his words, making his accent even thicker and even less like anything Lee had heard before.
"Come on, what do you want me to believe? That you were born here? Children of the Gods?" He snorted in derision.
"Whatever the fuck you think we are, we aren't!" The scientist yelled harshly as he unleashed his pent up emotions. "So why don't you tell your apes to let us go!"
Lee kept an even face as his mind clicked. Fuck? Not frak? Was this some type of new slang he had never heard? And what was an ape?
"God dammit doc, just shut up!" Wade hissed.
Not Gods dammit, Lee noted. Monotheists did exist on the Colonies but they were few and far between despite the discredit of the Monad Church, almost unknown since the war. These guys could have been a Monotheist community that fled the Colonies before the war, but these buildings were new. Or their benefactors thought it'd be better to use monotheists because they'd be looking for better lives. But then the benefactors would have to spend a lot of money and time searching for and rounding up the monotheists. It made no sense.
"You want me to just let you go?" Lee prompted. "Do you have any idea what your being here means?"
"We're not a threat, we'll be happy to open a dialogue; it's why we're here!" Balinski enthused. "There is no need for this."
"By your command, right?" Lee recited sarcastically then stepped back. The three prisoners blinked in confusion then sighed collectively, not the reaction Lee expected.
Those three words were ingrained in the Colonial consciousness, they were just about the worst thing any human could say, a curse that revolted and appalled civilized society. The epithet of the Cylons. These guys didn't even register it, not a flicker; they didn't spot the reference at all. If they didn't know the most obvious of Cylon trademarks where had they been all their lives?
"Captain Adama, sir." A Marine called from behind him. Lee turned to face the Marine who simply motioned with his head.
Lee barely suppressed an angry retort but he knew the Marine wouldn't bother him unless it was important. "Excuse me for a moment." He stood and exited the Raptor. Standing off the side was the Marine and another man who clearly screamed civilian with his dreadlocks.
"Dr. Cyrus I presume?" Lee asked cautiously.
"That's correct. Captain?"
"Adama, Captain Lee Adama," Lee replied tersely.
Cyrus frowned slightly, "Any relation to the fleet commander?"
Lee nodded stiffly. He hated how this subject always came up. "He's my father."
Cyrus blinked before responding, "I see." He cleared his throat as if clearing it of something uncomfortable. "I couldn't help but overhear some of your interrogation, Captain. And I must admit I find some of what they said to be a bit unbelievable."
Lee nodded, "I know."
"They speak Caprican which alone cast serious doubt onto anything they say."
Lee nodded again but responded with a guarded expression, "The thought had occurred to me."
Cyrus pressed on, "If these people were from another world you would expect them to be speaking a dialect of Proto-Kobolese or at least something strongly rooted in the old Kobolian tongues. We settled the Colonies two thousand years ago and since then, each of the Colonies developed its own dialect and language. That's just two thousand years. The Thirteenth Tribe left Kobol about four thousand years ago and now they're speaking a language so similar to ours it's virtually identical?" Cyrus shook his head emphatically. "Unless you believed in divine intervention it's just not possible. They're trying to play you."
Lee frowned in consideration as he weighed the facts in his mind. They seemed to honestly not realize the kind of trouble they were in, or to have any knowledge of the Colonies. On top of that were their strange weapons and equipment; so similar to what he was familiar with yet so different at the same time. They acted like a team of professionals who looked out for one another, not mercenaries out to make big money. But the Doctor also had a point. They spoke Caprican. That much he had established in the brief exchange. It made Lee uneasy.
"Where is the officer in charge of the interrogation team?" Lee asked.
"He is talking with his superiors on the radio. They want to know a lot of things about the camp, its people, their capabilities and their intent," Cyrus answered.
"Do you know anything about weapons or military equipment?" Lee asked.
Cyrus shook his head. "I have never been a big fan of the military, Captain Adama. I only know enough to do my work in the field."
Lee related what he had observed about their gear and weapons and why it was significant. He also went over in fine detail everything he had observed during their interrogation. At the end of it, Cyrus looked cautious yet thoughtful.
"I admit it's intriguing," Cyrus allowed. "Parallel evolution of societies within the Colonies is a favorite subject of mine and a strong point of debate within the archeology community. That a society could share almost identical characteristics right down to pottery, tools and even weapons has led to a lot of heated discussions. A point for it is the similarities between the societies of the Virgon and Leonian Empires. Usually, when societies are similar, it's due to external influences, like with Virgon and Caprica. But social similarities cropping up in independent development?" Cyrus shook his head, his tied-back dreadlocks swinging. "It's a fascinating subject, how two societies worlds apart can be almost identical in many ways."
"It's confusing is what it is, Dr. Cyrus." Lee said in frustration. "When they said they didn't know of the Colonies…I don't know…I believed them!"
Cyrus said nothing.
"Would you consider joining me then as I talked to our guests? Because once we turn them over to the interrogation team, we won't get a chance to talk with them again," Lee asked.
Cyrus tossed a questioning look at the young Captain. "I'm not exactly sure what you want to accomplish with me there, Captain Adama."
"You're the closest thing to a specialist we've got, Doctor. It's your specialty to spot things that might slip anyone else's notice. Just sit back and observe and if something jumps out at you, feel free to speak up."
Cyrus sighed "All right."
Stargate Command
Landry looked to Chief Master Sergeant Harriman, who'd taken over the control room duties and then to Carter, who nodded. "We're ready General."
Landry merely nodded and activated the mike. "This is Sierra Gulf Charlie One to Sierra Gulf Charlie One Three, do you read?"
At the Colonial landing site, Lee faced the three captives and was having an even harder time trying to read them. Things were not going well and not of it added up. He looked to Cyrus, who it appeared, was playing things over in his mind before reengaging with the prisoners.
"This is Sierra Gulf Charlie One to Sierra Gulf Charlie One Three, do you read?"
Lee spun around quickly to the sound, which came from the small portable table on which the prisoner's weapons and equipment laid. Lee wasn't sure what he heard but he could have sworn...
"This is Sierra Gulf Charlie One to Sierra Gulf Charlie One Three, do you read?"
Adama's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as realized where the mysterious voice had originated from and he turned back quickly to the three, who were doing their best to hide any sign of recognition. But it was there, Lee saw it.
Hope.
He carefully picked up the small communications device, which wasn't like the portable radios he was used to in the Colonies and examined it. There was some unfamiliar script upon it but he thought he made out a word on the side that made little sense. 'Motorola'.
"This is Sierra Gulf Charlie One to Sierra Gulf Charlie One Three, do you copy?"
Lee carefully looked and found what he thought was activation switch. Life was full of risks and he knew he had to take one.
"This is Captain Lee Adama of the Colonial Fleet. To whom am I speaking?"
"This is Major General Hank Landry of the United States Air Force, commander of Stargate Command. May I ask how you came to be speaking on this frequency?"
Lee swallowed heavily as his tried to calm his sudden bout of nerves, "General Landry, currently in our custody are two soldiers and one civilian scientist. I am speaking to you through one of their communications devices we confiscated."
"And under whose authority did you detain my people, Captain?" General Landry asked coolly.
"Under the authority granted to the fleet commander by the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Your people were caught operating an illegal smuggling and grave robbing mission on the home-world of the Gods. If you and your people surrender, I can assure you that you will receive a fair trial once we return to the Colonies," Lee responded.
Back at the SGC General Landry and Colonel Carter blinked as did everyone else in the control room. No one uttered a comment or made a sound. The entire control room was deathly quiet.
"Colonel Carter," Landry spoke up bringing the attention of the blonde colonel to the General, "I'm familiar with most of the powers that Stargate Command has had dealings with in its history. But I am not familiar with any entity called the 'Twelve Colonies of Kobol'. Does it ring a bell to you?"
Carter shook her head in the negative. "No sir, I've never heard of them. But whoever they are, they seem to think they know who we are, but we don't have enough information to make that call."
By that time, Colonel Glyndon and an Army captain from the intelligence staff had entered the room. They had heard Landry's conversation with Adama and were furiously taking notes. Glyndon turned to the Army captain. "Start cross-referencing everything we have for any mention of this 'Twelve Colonies' or a 'Kobol'. Pull as many intel folks as you need and getting them working this. I'll stay on this. Go." The young captain practically ran from the room.
Landry nodded in agreement before he nodded to Harriman to once again open the channel. "Captain Adama, this is General Landry of Stargate Command. We have not now nor have we ever heard of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. We represent the United States of America, one nation among many of the planet Earth. We would be amenable to opening a dialogue with your government but under no circumstances will we tolerate our people being detained without cause."
Lee blinked in astonishment before his skepticism kicked in. Earth? That wasn't possible; there was no way that could be right. He looked to Dr. Cyrus for confirmation that he had heard the same thing only to see the doctor staring back at him with wide unblinking eyes. "Doc?" Lee prompted.
Dr. Cyrus seemed to shake himself from whatever stupor he was in. "I still stand by my original position, Captain Adama. They speak our language. Unless they can provide some form of evidence of their claim, I'm not buying it.
Balinski snorted, "Please, practically the entire galaxy speaks the same language! You guys sure wouldn't be the first civilization we've run into that spoke the same language!"
The doctor's outburst quickly grabbed the attention of both men which prompted Cyrus to speak up, "What are you talking about? What other civilizations?"
"Through the stargate!"
"What exactly is a 'stargate'?" Lee asked with a carefully neutral position.
"Doc, don't say anything!" Wade snapped.
Cyrus finally stepped forward and spoke, "Look the only way we can help you is if you give us something to help you with."
"And just who the fuck are you!" Bosworth snapped.
Cyrus blinked in surprise at the pure venom in the soldier's voice. "Doctor Anthem Cyrus." He said slowly, "I am an archeologist." With those words Balinski went from guarded and wary to ease. Cyrus picked up on the sudden shift in Balinski and decided to use it.
"You talked about this 'stargate' as if we were supposed to know it. What is it?" Cyrus asked.
"Well you may not know it by that particular name; most other cultures we've encountered know it by other names." Balinski answered
Cyrus and Lee picked up on that little slip up, 'other cultures we've encountered', but decided not to press on it and instead focused on the more immediate question. "Such as?" Cyrus asked.
"Chappa'ai?" Balinski offered. He received two blank stares in return.
"Astra Porta?" That statement seemed to get a response from Cyrus who frowned in thought.
Lee noticed this and pressed Cyrus on it, "What is it?"
Cyrus shook off the wistful expression and focused on the men in front of them, either they were playing a very good coup or they were serious. He was starting to have his doubts.
"Doc, what's this 'Astra Porta' he's talking about? You seem to recognize the term," Lee noted.
Cyrus nodded absently. "Astra Porta is a term used to describe a gateway to the stars or gateway of the stars. No one seems to be able to agree on that one. The literal translation is 'star door' or…" Cyrus glanced down at Balinski. "…'star gate'." Lee frowned in disbelief as the doctor launched into his lecture, "Anyway, I was part of a study on some obscure texts the priests on Gemenon had supposedly recovered from the Exodus. In it, it states that the 'Astra Porta' was the gateway to the stars and allowed the Gods to walk the cosmos as if like giants." Cyrus frowned in thought as he continued on. "Of course it's been discounted by most of the archeological community as well as the high scholars and priests on Gemenon. Especially as they're not mentioned within the Sacred Scrolls…it's…it's not a well-known term, in fact only a handful of people have ever even heard of it. A bunch of grave robbers and tomb raiders shouldn't know it."
Lee looked skeptical, "A gateway to the stars? A… stargate? Sounds like science fiction to me."
"Exactly. The claim was just too fantastical to believe."
Lee rubbed his temples as if he had a headache coming on, "Alright, let's table that discussion for now."
"Still, if what they're saying is true…?"
"Then what we've just stumbled into is the biggest frak up in Colonial history. Yeah the thought had crossed my mind." Lee added. He picked up the Motorola and keyed the mike. "General Landry, this is Captain Adama, please come in." Static greeted him in response.
"General Landry, Come in!" Again static greeted him.
"Why is it not working?" Cyrus asked.
Lee grimaced, "The Marines must have picked up our communications and increased their jamming. We've lost comms." He tossed the radio back with the rest of the captured equipment. "We're on our own now."
Stargate Command
After losing communications with the man calling himself 'Captain Adama', General Landry and the senior staff had been summoned to the SGC's Operations Center and had found themselves briefing the President and National Security Council. While that was happening, Sam Carter and many others worked feverishly in the main conference room examining all the available options to rescue their beleaguered colleagues. A lot of expletives beginning with 'fuck' were flying around as was gallons of coffee. Carter shook her head in disgust and looked up from a sheet of paperwork to see Cam Mitchell sitting down.
"Any luck Sam?"
"Not much. These people are using some really good jammers. If we're going to break their jamming we need more signal strength; I'm supposed to get on a call here soon with some guys up at Hanscom who know electronic warfare better than me."
"What about.." Mitchell didn't get to finish his thought as the room came to attention as Landry and the staff entered.
"Take your seats people." Landry skipped the perfunctory. "We have our orders from the President and the NSC. We're to continue to attempt a diplomatic solution to this incident." Landry held up a hand to stop any grumbling. "Ambassador Mulhern of State will be here momentarily. Once we can re-establish contact with this 'Twelve Colonies of Kobol', she will lead the effort along with her staff to try and resolve this." Landry could see in the eyes of his people how they felt about that.
"But that isn't all we're doing. Colonel Green?"
Lt. Col. Green stood up and came to the front of the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we currently hold one advantage. Our two SEAL's from SG-44 hold the gate and we're going to ensure it stays that way. The Rangers are going in."
PXG-147
"Does that clear things up for you?" Dr. Balinski looked at the two Colonials with a look of sheer exasperation and impatience.
"This is horrible." Dr. Cyrus announced hoarsely.
"This isn't even the worst part," Lee said in a hollow voice which caused the archeologist to look sharply to him. "It's about to turn into a frakking nightmare." Lee sighed heavily as he considered what he'd just been told. Looking behind him outside the Raptor he could see even the Marines had been deeply shaken by the proclamation from the voice on the radio and the confirmation from Dr. Balinski. It was hard to believe even now, but the good doctor and more reluctantly the two soldiers Wade and Bosworth had said they could provide evidence by means of this 'Stargate'. Lee didn't really need convincing; somehow he just knew they were telling the truth. He had always been good at reading people and the earnest sincerity coming from all three of them was enough to convince him. It seemed to convince Dr. Cyrus as well, at least for the moment. Lee knew a bit about the man's history from his own studies at college, that Anthem Cyrus had been one of a growing number of rational skeptics openly critical of Colonial interpretation of history, and that he had been that way most of his adult life. The subject of Earth was particularly fascinating and mind numbing at the same time for a number of different reasons. It had brought with it tales of riotousness or wickedness depending on who told the tale. A utopia for the righteous, or a burnt out hellhole for the wicked, the stories were as varied as any could be. But in all honesty no one knew exactly why the Thirteenth Tribe had left the home-world of the Gods long before the rest of the tribes did. History only stated that they left, not the reasons why.
No one had even heard from them in nearly 3600 years, relegating them to myth and legend. Now, if what the three men in front of him were saying was true, then two of the most unlikely men in the Colonies were speaking to three of them, in the flesh, in perhaps the biggest nightmare frak-up in Colonial history.
"What do you mean?" Dr. Cyrus asked.
"What I mean, Doctor, is that we are in a standoff situation with the Thirteenth Tribe. And we started it. That's an act of war no matter how you cut it," Lee answered.
"I know that, Captain Adama. So how do we stop it?"
"My father gave me two missions when he sent me down here. The first was to look after you, Doctor. The second was to take command of Alpha Company and stop the assault if it looked like things weren't right. These Marines are good troops but they're the type to shoot first and not even bother to ask questions. The kind of men and women you don't want on a mission like this."
"I doubt the Marines would listen to you anyway, Captain Adama," Dr. Cyrus said. "Marines don't listen to anyone but other Marines. As well intentioned as your father's motivations are, the Marines would rather go in hard and fast and deal with the consequences later." Though Cyrus did have to admit he found his respect for Commander Adama rising up another notch. No other 'by the book' military drone would have ever thought of something so out of the box. And glancing at the younger Adama, it seemed the man had inherited the same trait from his father. This more than anything else made Cyrus understand why Adama had been selected as the fleet commander for the expedition, and why he had selected his own son for this mission.
"Then I need to get in touch with my father, somehow. You're right, Doctor. Captain Leonie Hafoka is in command of Alpha Company. She's got a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Olympus and she hates my guts. She wouldn't listen to anything I say simply because it would be coming from me."
Cyrus nodded in grim acceptance, "I know the type. A stubborn hothead; Marines are full of them."
"Ours too…" Bosworth snorted.
The five men chuckled darkly at the quip which was enough to ease the tension slightly as they found this one moment of familiarity and common ground between them. Then things turned serious again. Lee's quick mind was working in overdrive as he considered ways he could stop the assault. Almost all of them ended with him being detained by the Marines until after the assault was concluded and by then it would be too late. Suddenly an idea occurred to him and he turned to Wade and Bosworth.
"You can provide evidence that you're from Earth?" Lee asked.
"Yes," Wade answered.
"The Stargate alone would alleviate any doubts," Balinski supplied.
"Good enough for me," Lee stood to exit the Raptor, "Does your base camp have a high powered transceiver capable of reaching orbit?"
Wade and Bosworth shared a glance with each other as something unsaid passed between them before Wade answered with a cautious tone to his voice, "Yes…"
Lee nodded resolutely as he settled on his course of action.
"What are you thinking, Captain Adama?" Dr. Cyrus asked in growing fascination.
"I'm thinking if I can't go through the Marines, I need to go around them." He turned to regard the three Earth people before him "Would your commander be willing to work with me if I were to surrender myself to him and explain the situation?"
Wade and Bosworth's eyes widened in astonishment at what they just heard the plan the young captain propose. Then after recovering from their shock Bosworth nodded thoughtfully, "Possibly…Colonel Dixon is a damn good officer to work for, I'm proud to serve with him. But if he feels cornered he will hunker down and be ready for a fight."
"But will he work with me?" Lee insisted.
"You're asking a lot of the man. He has no reason to trust you and every reason to be suspicious. Stargate Command has seen such tactics before and it's made our people cautious. However if you give him the option of ending this standoff peacefully and allowing him to bring all his men and women home, alive, he may go for it," Wade answered.
Bosworth interjected, "Of course he's going to want some evidence that we are safe and sound and…" He directed a concerned glance at Wade and Balinski "…haven't been mistreated."
"I'll see what I can do about getting you medical attention," Lee assured.
"Wouldn't need it if your apes hadn't kicked us around like a football" Wade snapped. Lee blinked in confusion before he filed that away with the rest of what he had learned. He had never heard of 'football' back home.
"But is there anything else you could give me? Something else I could use to show him that I come in peace?"
"You could tell him I'm still betting on trees." Bosworth said. The others chuckled at their teams little inside joke.
"Anything else?" Lee pressed.
Wade nodded reluctantly, "Yeah…my daughter, Janet. You could tell him I want to be home to see her take her first steps. I would never talk about my daughter with anyone. We don't talk about our families with anyone outside the team, even with the others at the base camp. Our families are...well our family. He'll at least take you seriously."
Lee nodded heavily as he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "That will have to do. I'll do everything in my power to stop this from mistake from continuing. I'll make sure you get home to see your daughter. Thank you both." Lee exited the Raptor with Dr. Cyrus hot on his heels. Standing outside, as shaken as the rest of the Marines around him, stood the Major leading the interrogation team.
"By the Gods…" The Major whispered, "Well that certainly throws my interrogation out of the window."
"You heard?" Lee asked already knowing the man had.
The Major nodded, "Yes, everything. I'm an expert on body language and voice inflection and I can tell you by just listening in those men believe what they're saying. So either they're insane or they're telling the truth."
"I believe them," Lee said.
The Major snorted then chuckled, "Yeah I got that impression too."
Lee turned to one of his Marine guards who were still pale and shaken. "Fetch a Corpsman and make sure those men are treated for their injuries."
"Yes sir." The Marine nodded and ran off to fetch the corpsman with noticeable enthusiasm.
Lee turned to face the Marine Major. "The safety of these men is paramount Major. I'm sure I don't need to emphasize why."
The Major smirked, "I get you Captain. You got some frakking balls on you for what you're about to do." The Major's face turned grim, "You better hurry, Captain. I've been monitoring battle chatter, Hafoka is getting very impatient, she's pushing for the assault to commence and command is backing her play. The only thing that's stopped it so far is that they haven't received word from the fleet commander, yet."
"Can you give us a lift to the front?" Lee asked.
The Major nodded. "I'll have my convoy convey you as far forward as they can go. I still have no idea how they hell you're going to get past Hafoka."
Cyrus frowned. "But you out rank her. Can't you order her to stand down?"
The Major shook his head "Afraid I can't, that's not how the chain of command works in the Marines. It's true I outrank her but I'm Marine Support Services while she's under the authority of Marine Operations Service. I operate under Marine Intelligence and my focus is strictly prisoner interrogation. I can jump on the command-net and give the order. She'll say nice things to be polite to my rank and position as she pretends to give a frak then she'll just ignore it. Then command will have my ass for jumping the chain of command and interfering in their operation." He shook his head sadly. "Wish I had the authority to help you but I don't. At least I can give you a lift to where you're going."
And pray I'm not sacrificing my career doing it. He thought darkly.
"Then can't you radio your superiors and tell them they're making a mistake?" Cyrus pressed, unwilling to concede his point.
"I can't. I was in that staff briefing yesterday when we were told about the camp here on Kobol. I could feel the temperature drop to below freezing as everyone came to the same conclusion. Even I came to that same conclusion until just a few minutes ago. No one is going to believe we've kidnapped, at gunpoint, three members from a fairy tale planet. No one is going to believe we are in the wrong. They fiercely believe that these are criminals and that they are the righteous sword of justice to punish them for defiling this sacred ground." The Major pointed towards the assault ship, "I tell the battalion staff what I just heard and they'll have me relieved and detained on the spot. They believe just as fiercely as their men and women do. And they control all the reports that get sent to the fleet commander which will shape how he views what's going on. They'll end this situation their way then sort the mess afterwards."
Cyrus looked horrified and outraged at the same time, "Are you saying they would falsify reports just to have their moment to make history!"
The Major looked disgusted at the thought, "No! Despite what you may think they are way too professional for that. At worst they'll say the 'enemy' is being stubborn and defiant and resisting their efforts by not surrendering. They'll say that because they truly believe that. And there is no way the battalion staff is going to allow Captain Adama here to send a message to his daddy because he feels their righteous cause is a mistake. That's why Captain Adama's plan is the only one with any hope of working."
"And we need to get on with that," Lee nodded and stuck his hand out. "I'll take what I can get Major. Thank you for sticking your neck out for us."
"Telemecus Meade," The Major said taking his hand in a strong but brief handshake. "That's my name. Good luck, Captain Adama." The Major nodded to his driver standing a few feet away but he couldn't quite hide the scowl on his face as he glanced at the Doctor, nor did he try to. He then nodded and motioned for Lee to follow him. Lee followed the driver and hopped into the lead AMV. Just as Lee was strapping himself in he heard the door behind him close and turned to note in mild surprise Dr. Cyrus strapping himself in.
"What?" Dr. Cyrus asked when he saw the look on Lee's face. "Aren't you supposed to be the one protecting me?"
"Doctor…I have no idea how the Thirteenth Tribe is going to react. I'm more than prepared to risk my own safety to end this standoff. I am not prepared to risk yours. Please remain here with Major Meade and our guests."
Cyrus shook his head emphatically. "I'm involved now and I'm the one most responsible for the situation we're in. I told Adama these were criminals we were dealing with which makes this my fault. If I can help to end this before it turns bloody…well I'm going to see this through to the end."
Lee sighed with weary acceptance. He thought about arguing his point but knew he didn't have the time.
"Just stay low and do exactly what I say, Doc. Driver, let's move out." And with those words the convoy moved pulled away from the landing zone and towards the front lines.
Captain Leonie Hafoka was growing angrier by the minute. For over an hour they had surrounded the enemy base camp and called for their immediate surrender. And for over an hour the enemy had steadfastly and stiffly refused.
"Ares Actual, Alpha One Actual; Alpha Company again requesting the go order," Leonie intoned over the battalion net.
"Alpha One Actual, Ares Actual, still nothing new from Zeus or Galactica Actual. Just sit tight Leonie, they're going to give the go order, it's just a matter of when."
"Acknowledged, Ares Actual," Hafoka wrenched off the earpiece and barely suppressed a growl of frustration. They should have taken those motherfrakkers down when they had the element of surprise. Now the enemy was dug in tight and more than ready for them. It was only going to make the job even bloodier. A coordinated two pronged assault; that was the plan to take down the base camp. With Constellation and Echo launching feint attacks while Daggit Troop maneuvered to draw their fire, Alpha would move swiftly to take advantage of the confusion and hopefully be knocking down the enemy's gate before they knew what happened.
To her front just past the tree line they were concealed in was an open field of fire with patches of fallen pillars and debris scattered here and there to act as make shift cover for her Marines as they bounded forward. But there was not enough cover to protect them all…not by a long shot. Either way they would lose people, even before the gunships took out the towers.
The drive toward the front line only took minutes yet to Lee Adama and Dr. Cyrus they were the longest few minutes in their lives. They monitored the command-net as they moved forward and it was immediately clear Hafoka was getting tired of the stalemate. Say what you wanted about her she was a woman of decisive action. And Lee knew any hope of trying to talk her down went up in smoke the more he listened. The woman was too focused and too eager for a fight. On top of that she hated his guts which meant the likely hood of her listening to him was about zero.
Juno's frakking cunt!
A shared look between him and Dr. Cyrus showed the doctor was thinking the exact same thing.
"We're here, Captain," Major Meade said as the vehicles slowed to a halt. "The front is about half a klick to the east. I'll head back and see that our guests get what medical care they need. Good luck."
Lee and Cyrus quickly dismounted the vehicle and began moving in earnest toward the front line.
"So how do you plan to get past Hafoka?" Dr. Cyrus asked.
"Simple, I can't go through her so I'll go around her," Lee said as he moved at a brisk pace through the thick brush of vegetation.
"How?"
"Any face to face confrontation with her will only end up with me getting detained, and Hafoka is looking for a reason to get me out of the way."
Cyrus nodded in agreement.
Lee continued on. "So with that in mind I'll try to use my grade and position to intimidate some of her Marines maintaining the perimeter to let me pass. Then I go and surrender myself to the Thirteenth and use their transmitter to contact my father and put an end to the assault. Simple."
Cyrus blinked. "That's your plan! That's a horrible plan."
"Well feel free to chip in, Doc! It's not like I've had time to give it a lot of thought," Lee snapped defensively.
Cyrus frowned in consideration for a moment but didn't comment. Truthfully he didn't have anything better than that.
The two quickly reached the end of the wood line. They crouched low as they bounded from cover to cover provided by the toppled ruins. In the distance Lee could clearly see the Thirteenth Tribe's base camp and the silhouettes of people manning defensive positions. And for a moment Lee felt a shiver of doubt run down his spine as he considered the daunting task set before him. But he was committed now; nothing was going to stop him from doing this.
"Halt, who's there!" a challenge was issued from the two Colonial Marines manning their position in the perimeter forward of him.
And then there were Hafoka's Marines.
"Captain Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet!"
"Step forward and be recognized…slowly and hands where I can see them!"
Cyrus glanced apprehensively at the Colonial fleet captain who stood up slowly with his hands raised. Cyrus did the same. The two Marines slowly lowered their weapons as they recognized the Fleet captain and the civilian archeologist.
"Captain Adama, sir!" One of the Marines, clearly new to the Marine Corps made to stand at attention and salute but his buddy; a junior non-commissioned officer grabbed him and yanked him back down hard then rolled his eyes.
"Frakking idiot, are you trying to get yourself killed!" The NCO snarled to his younger compatriot, who paled. The NCO then turned to his attention back to the captain "What can we do for you sir?"
"What's the situation?" Lee asked.
The NCO shrugged, "Quiet for the moment, sir. But we got 'em boxed in. They're not going anywhere."
"Good," Lee nodded resolutely to steel his resolve. "Sergeant, I need to get closer and survey the enemy's position so I can coordinate air strikes when we get the go order," Lee improvised on the spot.
The NCO shook his head fiercely, "No, sir. Captain Hafoka's orders; no one breaches perimeter without her say so. No one. If you like I can radio back and get permission then escort you myself. I don't trust numb nuts here to do it." He nodded to his fellow soldier who wilted under his glare.
"That's really not necessary I just need—" Any response was cut off when Cyrus moved forward to peer over the fallen stone wall.
"What the frak are you doing, get your ass down!" The NCO made to grab at Cyrus to yank him back down but then suddenly his head snapped with a thwack as Cyrus's right hook connected with the NCO's face. Lee gaped in astonishment as Cyrus then jumped at the startled Marine private as the two began struggling. For the moment Cyrus had the advantage due to surprise but the Marine private was swiftly rallying and starting to gain the upper hand. Cyrus took a critical moment to turn back to Lee.
"Go, Captain!"
"Doc, what the hell are you doing! Lee asked in disbelief.
"Stopping a mistake! Now lay down your weapons so the Thirteenth Tribe doesn't shoot you and just go. Stop this before it goes too far!" Lee could see the NCO groggily start to get back to his feet. "Gods Dammit man, GO!"
Lee quickly stripped off his rifle and side arm then took off at dead sprint to the camp of the Thirteenth Tribe and prayed to the Gods they didn't shoot him. He spared a look back to see Cyrus getting subdued by the Marine private and the NCO then he returned his attention forward and pressed forward intent on finishing what he started.
"Ah… Captain, we've got movement!" A Marine sniper spoke up hesitantly.
"What's the enemy doing?" Hafoka came forward.
"It's not the enemy, it's one of ours."
"What? Who?" Hafoka snapped then pulled her binoculars to her eyes, she went rigid as he features hardened and her face went completely crimson. "Tell me that isn't who I think it is!" Hafoka hissed.
Her company's first sergeant who had come forward as well lowered his binoculars "Yep, one Colonial Fleet captain making a break for the enemy base camp."
"What the frak is he doing!" Hafoka growled as she lowered her binoculars.
"About to get himself shot or captured is my guess," her first sergeant grunted.
"Ma'am, I can put one well placed shot in his leg. It'll put him down but not kill him." The sniper suggested.
"We can then send in an extraction team and pull him out before the enemy gets to him and takes him hostage," her first sergeant added.
Hafoka looked eager to jump onboard with that suggestion but then sighed in frustration, "No. Hold your fire."
"Ma'am?" Her first sergeant raised an eyebrow.
"Do you want to be the one to explain to the fleet commander why you gave the order to shoot his son? I sure he'll be very understanding," Hafoka said with a hint of sarcasm. The first sergeant grimaced. "I didn't think so," Hafoka added.
"Captain?" Her Marine radio operator spoke up.
"What?" Hafoka asked.
"Ma'am, I have Alpha Two Six on the horn. He says he needs to speak to you urgently."
She motioned for the radio and put the handset up to her ear. "This is One Actual. Speak." She listened intently for a moment before snarled into the radio "Get him here, now!" she handed the radio back to him.
"Ma'am?" her first sergeant asked as he noted the particular look on her face.
"Guess who just assaulted two of our Marines so our wayward captain could make his mad dash to being a hostage."
A number of wide shocked eyes met hers. "You're kidding," her first sergeant asked dryly.
"Second Platoon is bringing him in now." She scanned the enemy base camp with her binoculars just in time to see a small fire team of enemy troops take Captain Adama into custody and move him into their ECP. Any slim chance they had of getting him back just went up in smoke. She sighed. She didn't particularly care for the Fleet captain, flaunting his authority and riding roughshod over her command because his daddy commanded the fleet. She'd dealt with officers like him in the past. Officers like him were always smug and self assured and completely certain that a woman couldn't do the job of leading assault troops in combat. He hit all her buttons. The wrong ones. She still she didn't want to see him hurt though, he was a fellow Colonial Officer and you didn't toss your own to the wolves. And she knew whoever took him hostage probably wouldn't treat him too kindly.
She muttered a silent prayer for him then turned back to her radio operator "Send a message back to HQ to relay to the fleet. We have a hostage situation."
"Aye ma'am," her RTO replied as he set about his task.
A few minutes later, a fire team of six Marines were escorting a visibly bruised Dr. Cyrus to the command post. They stopped a few feet from a Captain Hafoka who had a look of angry determination. She had since pushed aside her misgivings and focused on the matter at hand.
"Would you care to explain to me why you assaulted two of my Marines, and why our frakking idiot of a Fleet Captain disarmed himself and then made a mad dash to the smuggler's base?" Her gaze went from fuming to murderous in under a second "And it had better be good."
SGC Forward Operating Base
Lee Adama wasn't entirely sure this was the brightest of ideas. Upon appearing at the entrance to the camp, he'd been met by the barrels and aim points of multiple automatic weapons looking for someone or something to shoot at. When questioned in the same accented speech by someone of obvious authority, he'd politely requested entrance to negotiate, as if politeness would score points in such a far gone situation. After performing a pirouette to demonstrate that he was unarmed, he'd been motioned inside the encampment only to come face-to-face with more armed soldiers who quickly and professionally patted him down, obviously not taking his guarantee of unarmed status at face value. Just as quickly and with no warning a mask of some sort was placed over his eyes, denying him any ability to gather useful intelligence during his visit. He couldn't blame them really; he'd be just as suspicious. Soon he felt himself grabbed at the arms and taken by two strong individuals on a meandering walk through the camp. Lee guessed that they were doing it purposely to deny him the chance to memorize any part of the camp's layout, or they were just frakking with him for laughs. Either way, he was at their mercy now. Soon enough he detected that he was being led indoors and was suddenly placed on a chair. Swiftly, his mask was removed and he blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the lights around the room. Judging by the layout, he was in some sort of bunker. It screamed utilitarian and military.
Lee looked up as his eyes adjusted and was met by a tall and light-skinned man looking down at him. It was fairly obvious from the man's gait and demeanor that he was military of some sort. Lee knew that without even registering the uniform he wore. The uniform was like nothing he'd ever seen, a camouflage pattern of greens and grays and over it was some sort of pouch-covered body armor with a name attached. On the armor was also what looked like a bird; Lee had no idea what that was supposed to represent, maybe rank. This whole debacle got more confusing by the minute. The man seemed to regard Lee for a moment with an admirable level of detachment, like a scientist looking over an experiment where the results were uncertain. It had an unnerving effect. The man crossed his arms and finally spoke.
"My name is Colonel David Dixon. I'm with the United States Air Force and I serve as commander of this scientific outpost. Who are you and what is your purpose?"
Lee caught his breath and measured his speech carefully. "My name is Captain Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet. I'm here to try and keep our two sides from shooting each other."
Colonel Dixon seemingly arched an eyebrow and looked none too impressed. "Really? Well Captain Adama, as it is your personnel who surrounded our base and are demanding our surrender I would say your mission is off to a rough start." Even with the combined stress of all that had transpired, Lee could detect the faint echo of a smirk on the man's face and in his tone. This Colonel Dixon apparently had a sense of humor.
"I understand that, Colonel. I believe that this is a case of mistaken identity."
"I gathered that when I spoke with your colleague Captain Hafoka. From what transpired I am of the understanding that you think we're smugglers or robbers of some sort. Is that correct?"
Lee nodded. "Yes, our best analysis was that you were some sort of private smuggling operation or rogue separatists setting up some sort of illegal colony."
Dixon exhaled and wiped his brow. Dixon was always wary of First Contact situations for this very reason. Too much could and sometimes did go wrong, leading to debacles like the one he currently found himself in. Dixon looked over at Lieutenant Commander Harper, who simply nodded and tried a weak smile. "Better to give him the full story before we're fighting them sir."
Dixon looked down at Adama and stared at him. "Captain, I'll gladly give you our full story. I've tried repeatedly to explain over the radio to your Captain Hafoka but she doesn't seem that interested. Are you?"
"That's why I'm here."
"Alright. As I told Captain Hafoka over the radio, we're a scientific and exploratory mission operating under the jurisdiction of the governments of the planet Earth and the International Oversight Advisory Council. When we established this outpost, it was our understanding that this world was uninhabited and abandoned. We've been operating here solely for scientific and archeological purposes. Your people are the first we've encountered and it wasn't our intention to encroach on anyone's sovereign territory. We have never heard of the 'Twelve Colonies' your captain spoke of. Clear enough for you?"
Lee sat still and tried valiantly to control his breathing. The Thirteenth Colony? It was unbelievable; the very history, and more importantly, the future of the Colonies was about to change, if he could fix this frakked-up situation. Lee knew he needed to respond but the weight of what he had just been told crushed him.
"Well, Captain?"
"Colonel, you say you're from Earth?"
"Yes. Why? You've heard of it before?"
Lee nodded vigorously and a smile crossed his face for the first time. "You could certainly say that. In our past history and our religious writings, it was said that our people fled from a world called Kobol, which we now believe to be the planet we're all standing on right now. At some point there was an exodus. Twelve tribes travelled together and formed our current society, the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, on twelve worlds in what we call the Cyrannus Cluster. It was said that there was a Thirteenth Tribe which left on its own and travelled to a distant world called Earth. It was thought to be a myth. If you are who you say you are, then our civilizations are long lost relatives."
It was now Dixon's turn to be practically speechless and he did an admirable job of controlling his expressions. He had never heard anything remotely like what the young captain described but it was obvious the young man believed every word of it.
"Captain, I'll grant you that I'm a military officer, not a historian or archeologist but I can tell you that I've never heard of this at all. I told Hafoka this as well. As I said earlier, we've never heard of the 'Twelve Colonies of Kobol' or anything like it. As I also told Hafoka, we'd gladly open a dialogue with your people but we will not do it at the end of a gun. Why should I believe any of this? You're holding US personnel hostage and you're threatening to attack my command." Dixon was careful to make the last part sound more like a statement of fact than an accusation.
Lee had to think quickly; he couldn't blame Dixon for being distrustful. This whole operation was unraveling quickly and was bound to get ugly. Then he remembered his conversation with Dixon's men. "Yes, we did take your men captive, Colonel. As I told you, we thought you were potential criminals. I can try and smooth this over and avoid bloodshed but I'll need your help."
"What about my men? Where are they right now and what's their condition?"
Lee grimaced internally. Just as he feared, the actions of Hafoka's Marines could and just might frak them royally. He had no choice.
"They're safe now, Colonel. They're currently being detained by our Marines; I won't lie to you they were roughed up at first. But it was their statements that led me and others to believe that this was a massive misunderstanding."
Colonel Dixon looked grim and very angry. "You have any proof that they're safe?"
"Your men were clear before I came that you would be cautious, Colonel. They told me to mention certain things to you. Sergeant Bosworth told me to tell you that he's still betting on trees." Lee shrugged in a manner of saying he had no idea what the man was referring to.
"Of course he is. Anything else?"
"Sergeant Wade asked me to bring up his daughter Janet; he really wants to see her take her first steps. He said you would know the meaning."
Lee watched the Colonel closely and thought he detected a trace of something cross the man's face. Sadness? Lee couldn't tell fully.
"Okay, Captain, you've got my attention now. So, where does that leave us? You have this camp surrounded and your people are threatening to attack. My entreaties have been ignored or refuted; so what would you have me do?"
"First, Colonel, I now have to ask, do you have any proof that what you've told me is the truth. It's one thing to claim you're from the Thirteenth Tribe, but if I'm to convince my superiors to back down I need some proof and I'm afraid your word isn't going to be enough for them. Your men mentioned something called a 'stargate'? What exactly is that?"
"Your people have never heard of a stargate?"
"No. Your men mentioned it but it sounded too outlandish to us."
"Before we get talking about the stargate, Captain, how did you and your people get here?"
"We currently have a good sized battle-group in orbit of this planet, Colonel. We came here on a scientific expedition, just like you. Some archeologists and scientists believed they had found evidence of Kobol's location and convinced the government to send an expedition. That's how we came to be here. You were the last thing we thought we would run into."
For Dixon, Adama's pronouncements were a double-edged sword. On one hand, it meant that the stargate was still a viable route for the SGC to respond and get his people out of their predicament. On the other, a fleet in orbit meant these 'Colonials' owned the skies and probably had a good amount of reinforcements and resources they could bring to bear if things went any further downhill. This Adama was probably their only way out of this mess.
"Well, here we are so what's your suggestion?"
"Do you have a communications system here capable of reaching ships in orbit?" Lee asked.
Dixon's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes, we do but your people are jamming all our frequencies. Why?"
"Colonel, I can give you a frequency that isn't jammed. My father is the commander of our expedition. He sent me on this mission specifically to keep an eye on things in case they went bad and I think this qualifies, don't you? If you'll let me use your system, I can contact him and have him get our Marine units to back off. Then we can take things from there. Would that work?"
Dixon weighed his options. He couldn't contact the SGC; he prayed his two SEAL's at the gate hadn't been discovered. They were cut off and these 'Colonial Marines' weren't sounding anymore accommodating. Additionally, they were heavily armed and controlled the air. Trusting the young captain facing him from the chair was the only real option Dixon had.
"Alright, give me the frequency and fill me in on exactly who I'm calling."
Battlestar Galactica
Commander Adama stood stock still in Galactica's CIC with an equally still look frozen on his face with only Colonel Tigh willing to look him directly in the eye. This mission, which just the day before had been perceived as difficult, was now living up to its reputation. It had started well enough, with the Marine landing forces quickly surrounding the camp, but had now degenerated into a cold face-off. Now had come word that Lee had done something truly insane: surrendering himself to these unknowns for some equally unknown reason. Part of Adama's psyche wanted to rage and scream, just as Tigh had done when the Marines first up-channeled the reports, but he held his tongue. He'd always known that his son, for all his anger over Zak's death, thought differently than the average military officer. It was one of the reasons he'd sent him along with the Marines in the first place. Lee had a tendency to stop and think, latest actions not-withstanding. That thought kept him from truly raging at his son; Lee wouldn't have done it without a very good reason.
"This is frakking insane." Adama thought he heard Tigh mutter under his breath.
The Marines were screaming for action. Colonel Carthan had repeatedly requested permission to assault the camp, his argument being that the longer they delayed, the longer the squatters had to formulate a defense. It was a completely valid argument and one that even Lee's presence within the camp couldn't really blunt. The time for a decision, one Adama did not relish, was coming.
Petty Officer Dualla's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Commander? I'm receiving an incoming transmission from the surface over one of our set-aside frequencies. They're claiming to be from the enemy camp."
"Patch it to my station, Dee."
"Yes, sir."
Adama looked at Tigh, whose eyes had gone wide and who just shook his head. "I'm sorry Bill; they must have sweated it out of him."
"Doesn't matter. Listen in." With that both men picked up receivers and listened to the incoming transmission.
"This is Colonel David Dixon of the United States Air Force calling for Commander William Adama of the Battlestar Galactica. Please respond. Over."
"This is Commander William Adama of the Battlestar Galactica; identify yourself and your purpose."
"Commander Adama, my name is Colonel David Dixon of the United States Air Force. I am the commanding officer of the scientific outpost that your forces currently have surrounded. My purpose is to try and end this stand-off without anyone getting hurt. I would hope you would have the same desire."
"How exactly did you obtain this frequency Colonel? This is a restricted Colonial Fleet net."
"Your representative, Captain Lee Adama, provided it to us in the hopes we could negotiate an end to this situation."
Adama winced. They must have tortured Lee. Frak. Adama felt his heart tighten to a virtual knot and he let out a ragged breath as he looked to the ceiling for a quick moment. It felt like the world was closing in around him; he had one son left and he wasn't going to lose him in this backwater. "What assurances do I have that Captain Adama is safe and wasn't coerced into providing that information under duress?"
"Currently all you have is my word as a United States military officer but I'll let you speak with him shortly. I could ask the same of you, Commander, regarding my three men captured by your Marines; I'm told their reception wasn't exactly gentle."
Adama quickly covered the mouthpiece of his phone with his hand and looked directly at Colonel Tigh with a murderous stare. "Get on the line with Carthan right now and find out what he's talking about!"
"Yes, sir." With that, Adama put the mike back to his ear.
"Colonel Dixon, I'm not aware of the exact circumstances of your men's capture but any violations of Fleet regulations and the Articles of War will be dealt with. But now we have to deal with a bigger issue. You and your people are in violation of Colonial law and must surrender. I can promise that when you are returned to the Colonies you will be fairly treated and provided an adequate defense."
"Commander Adama, you seem to be operating under the same misconceptions as your personnel down here on the planet. I've explained this to your son and I tried to explain this to your Captain Hafoka. We are a scientific and archeological mission duly authorized by the governments of Earth, specifically the United States of America, and the International Oversight Advisory Council. We have never heard of the 'Twelve Colonies of Kobol' or the 'Colonial Fleet'. We would be interested in opening a peaceful dialogue with you and your government but will not do so under threat of force. Any attempt to assault this outpost will be met with force."
Anyone looking at Bill Adama at the point would have thought he'd seen a ghost, or an actual god, or anything to turn him white. His hand had a grip of death on the receiver and for what may have been the first time in his long career, he was at a loss for words. Earth? While he had joked privately with Belzen and others about it, he had never realistically thought it was possible. Even now, presented with it, parts of his mind warred within telling him it was an elaborate scam of some sort. His eyes quickly darted around the CIC and caught his people looking at him expectantly. Luckily he had been the only one listening in to the conversation save one Petty Officer Dualla. Bill looked in her direction only to find her staring at him, her hands slowly dropping almost to her sides. For a moment he thought she might faint but she caught herself, looked at her commanding officer and nodded as if to say 'I'm okay, sir".
Adama winked at her and formulated his response. "Colonel Dixon, what you are asking me to believe is quite the leap of faith. If you've told this to Captain Adama then I'm sure he's explained the significance of that assertion to you."
"He has, Commander, but it is not an assertion. As I explained to him, although I'm not a historian or archeologist I can safely say that we've never heard of your people in our travels or anything about being a 'Thirteenth Tribe'. And as I stated, we are willing to open a dialogue with your government, but not while under duress. As a sign of good faith on our part, I'll put Captain Adama on the net now."
"Galactica Actual, this is Adama."
A large part of Bill Adama breathed easier just hearing his son's voice; as much as he was a military man he was still a father with a son in harm's way and hearing him was a vast relief. "Captain, this is Galactica Actual, state your status."
"Galactica Actual, be advised I am 'in one piece'. Over."
Adama smiled slightly at the mention of the reference. 'In one piece' was a code phrase all Colonial pilots understood. It meant he was all right and not under duress of any kind. "Understood. Go with sitrep." That was Bill Adama's calm and professional way of asking his erstwhile son the obvious: Just what the frak were you thinking and what is going on?
"Galactica Actual, be advised that intelligence developed leads me to believe that Colonel Dixon and his men are who they claim to be. This can be verified through the civilian scientist here planet-side." Lee was referring to Doctor Cyrus. "Additionally, Colonel Dixon has offered to produce evidence of his claim in exchange for a limited pullback of Marine units from their perimeter. How copy?"
"Galactica Actual copies. What intelligence are you basing this off of, Captain?"
"Be advised, Galactica Actual, we've observed marked differences in language and cultural references. Their equipment, while similar in uses, is different from anything I've ever seen or heard of. Colonel Dixon and his men also speak of how they got here Actual. Our civilian scientist can brief you but it's radically different than anything I've ever heard of and Colonel Dixon is offering to show proof. How copy?"
"Stand by one." Adama cut the feed and looked over to Tigh who'd walked up during the conversation and had been listening in. "What did you find out Saul?"
"Carthan confirms that a squad of Marines did rough up the three prisoners when they were captured…"
"Gods Frakkin Dammit!" All of CIC stopped in its tracks when Adama exploded.
"They've been detained. That's not the worst of it, Bill. Carthan also confirms what Lee said about Doctor Cyrus. He believes we are dealing with the Thirteenth Tribe, Gods help us."
Bill Adama's head was swimming; he was now the commander on the scene of the biggest frak-up in the history of the Colonies. This had to be cleaned up and quick before they found themselves at war with the first non-Colonial civilization they'd ever come across, not to mention it being their lost cousins. Bill almost wanted to laugh against his better instincts; the admirals thought they were sending him on a public relations milk run. With this in mind, Adama keyed the phone.
"Captain, what does Colonel Dixon have in mind…"
SGC Forward Operating Base
If Dixon were in any mood to laugh, he'd equate his current situation to a scene from Gunfight at the OK Corral. Dixon stood just within the camp's main entry control point clad fully in his individual body armor and helmet sporting his M-4 rifle with the young Captain Adama standing nearby and Doctor Coombs to his left. To either side were two of Major Whittier's Security Forces troops also fully geared up and armed. Dixon took a moment and looked up into the brilliant blue sky and took a deep breath; God how he wanted to go home. As much as he joked to his people about the monumental pain in the ass his kids could occasionally be, he'd give up his soul at that moment for the chance to see his wife and kids again. He only hoped that these 'Colonials' had their own wives and kids and wanted to see them just as much. He turned to Adama with a badly hidden nervous smirk.
"I'm taking a big risk on this one, Captain. I hope your people are as honorable as you claim." What Dixon really wanted to say was that if it went to shit, he'd put a bullet in Adama first just for setting this up.
"My father has a saying. Sometimes you have to roll a hard six."
"Spoken like a typical fighter jock."
"You have no idea." Lee grunted.
Dixon turned to one of the men manning the ECP and nodded. With that, the barrier was pulled aside and the four military men and one archeologist walked out of the gate and outside the perimeter. As they did, four Colonial Marines and what looked to Dixon to be a dark-skinned civilian with dreadlocks of all things walked up to them from the open field and stopped around ten feet away, scanning the area as they did. It was pretty obvious to Dixon they were professional military and were as well armed and equipped as his people. The apparent leader of the five spoke.
"Colonel Lionel Carthan, Colonial Marine Corps."
Dixon nodded but kept his hands on his rifle. "Colonel David Dixon, United States Air Force." Dixon looked to Carthan's right and saw a tough-looking young woman glaring at him. "And you would be?"
"Captain Leonie Hafoka, Colonial Marine Corps." If looks could kill, Dixon knew he'd be a charred corpse by now. And judging by the way she was glaring at Captain Adama, he'd be collateral damage. He looked at Mr. Dreadlocks.
"Doctor Anthem Cyrus." Dixon wanted to laugh looking at the man because it was obvious he was as uncomfortable around military types as many SGC scientists were. Next to him, Coombs smiled slightly.
"Doctor Simon Coombs."
Colonel Carthan grunted. "You set up a very adequate defense Colonel." For Carthan, that was praise.
Dixon shrugged and cracked what his men called his 'best shit-eating grin' while thinking the unmentionable. Adequate enough to kill enough of your guys asshole… "Well you never know who might drop in Colonel."
Colonel Carthan's nostrils flared but he bit back any retort. Captain Hafoka continued to glare and sulk. Yeah, Dixon thought, this is going real fucking well.
"I've been assured by your Commander Adama that we'll have unmolested passage to show you the stargate and prove our claims. Do I have your word that you'll abide by that agreement?"
"You do. Mind you, as a professional soldier I'm rather dubious of what you're claiming but like you, I assume, I follow orders."
Dixon wasn't 'claiming' anything but he wasn't going to debate the man now. "Fair enough, Colonel. Then let's go; we'll be walking to the ruins about a short distance away." With that the small group set out following the well-worn path that the SGC personnel had travelled so much recently. Dixon took the time to scan the area as they walked and confirmed all of his suspicions. These 'Colonials' had his people surrounded. He saw a large number of dismounted infantry and what looked like some sort of armored fighting vehicle. He could only guess that he was at that moment under the watchful eye of multiple sniper scopes. As they continued on, Colonial aircraft continued to overfly the area, reminding Dixon how cut off and surrounded they were. He had no choice but to play along with his agreement with Commander Adama. Hopefully, the sheer existence of the gate would buy him and his people some credibility and get the Colonials to back off.
Soon enough the small group came to the ruins and approached the largest of them which housed the gate. Dixon noticed that the Colonials, especially Doctor Cyrus, were dumbstruck by the sights before them. He heard Colonel Carthan mutter something under his breath along the lines of "Dear Gods…" and Doctor Coombs started talking with his apparent counterpart Cyrus. Dixon cut that off with a glare at the civilian. Coombs caught his message: Stop talking!
Dixon stopped near the entrance to the massive ruin and turned towards the group. In this leap of faith, he'd have to show some of his hand. "As a warning, I have two men stationed in here guarding the gate, so please, no quick movements until I advise them of the situation. Please keep your hands in the open" The Colonial officers nodded and the group climbed the steps and entered the massive chamber. Dixon immediately saw that his two SEAL's guarding the gate had heard them coming and were in defensible positions on either side of the gate.
"Halt! Don't move! Show us your hands!"
With that the Colonials froze, the Marines slowly raising their hands to show they had no hostile intent. Dixon raised his hands and let his rifle hang in front of his body. "Easy guys, we're good to go." 'Good to go' was another hidden code phrase among SGC types, indicating to other SG teams that they weren't under duress. Dixon looked over and saw Petty Officer Gamble stand up with a near-panicked look on his face.
"Sir, you need to get'em back! The SGC's about to…" Gamble was cut off by the distinctive metal sounds of the gate starting its activation sequence. Dixon's eyes bulged and he turned quickly to the group waving his arms towards the entrance.
"We need to get the fuck back now!"
"What the frak is going on, Dixon?" Carthan screamed.
Dixon didn't immediately answer as he waved the group back. Finally he turned to Carthan. "The gate is activating; you get caught in the event horizon and you're a dead man!" He looked back as the last chevron locked in place and the horizon formed. All of the Colonials stared in shocked awe as Cyrus exclaimed, "Jupiter's cock!"
The familiar, water-like explosion of energy formed as the group fell back to a safe distance. Before Dixon could ask Gamble what was going on, fast moving figures appeared from the gate moving swiftly. Dixon could only scream.
"Oh shit!"
"US Army! Don't move!" The SGC's big stick, the 7th Ranger Battalion, had arrived.
Highly armed soldiers in digital camouflage erupted from the gate with weapons pointed at Dixon's group and were screaming commands as they fanned out among the ruins of the building. The Colonial Marines were so awestruck by the sight before them they hardly moved; even a seasoned veteran like Carthan was frozen in place. He knew he and his small group stood no chance against such a quick assault. Dixon hurriedly raised his arms. "We're secure! Hold your fire! Secure!" Dixon spun around and looked at Carthan. "Did you kill your jamming like we agreed?"
Carthan was stuttering as he stared in shock. "Y..yes. Yes!"
Dixon hurriedly keyed his mike. "SGC, this is Dixon! We're secure! Hold your assault! I say again, we're secure!"
"Colonel Dixon, this is General Landry. Authenticate immediately!"
"SGC! I authenticate Four Golf Delta November Seven One!" Dixon waited anxiously as more Army Rangers poured out of the gate and surrounded the area, followed by small, wheeled, remote-operated cargo carriers full of heavier ordinance. Soon enough, the entire ruined area near the gate was secured by the Rangers, who kept their weapons pointed at Dixon and the Colonials.
"Colonel Dixon, this is Landry. We copy your authentication. Status?"
"General, be advised. I've made contact with the leaders of the unknown force. We have an apparent case of mistaken identity. I can brief further when we have the area secure. Copy?"
"I copy, Colonel. Be advised, the Seventh has orders to secure your compound and personnel. Can we expect resistance?"
"Stand by one."
Dixon looked at Carthan and his group. Captain Hafoka looked ill, and truth be told, she nearly was. The realization was setting in for her; she had nearly caused a war with the Thirteenth Tribe. The greatest moment in the history of the Colonies had arrived and in her zeal to show she belonged in the Corps she'd nearly turned it into an epic tragedy. Only her professionalism and training kept her from doubling over. Colonel Carthan had recovered from his initial shock of the Rangers' rapid arrival and stood still, trying not to provoke an incident. He turned and nodded to his two junior Marines to keep them calm and professional and looked back at Dixon, who'd locked eyes on Hafoka, willing her to look him in the eye.
With a deathly calm voice, he addressed her. "Well, Captain, do you believe me now?"
