REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 24 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker sat in the cockpit of the new hybrid reconnaissance craft which had been built with the cooperation and assistance of the Colonial Battlestar PEGASUS. Beside him, busily working to complete calculations for the first-ever use of the craft's FTL-Jump Engines, was Commander Lee Adama. In other seats, further back, were Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, who would be operating the sensor array and weapons systems, and Chief Galen Tyrol, who was there to help out if there were any technical malfunctions with the Colonial systems during the flight.

As he waited for Lee to complete his calculations, Trip smiled as he remembered his impression on seeing the completed recon craft for the first time. That impression had been very favorable.

The assembly of the new ship had taken place aboard PEGASUS, and it had arrived aboard the ENTERPRISE just the previous day. Sleek lines and the black carbon composite coating intended to confuse enemy sensors gave it a somewhat predatory look.

The new vessel was larger than a Starfleet Shuttlepod and smaller than a Colonial Raptor. A Raptor could...just barely...fit through the Shuttlepod landing bay doors of the ENTERPRISE, since a Raptor was designed to carry up to ten marines in addition to its flight crew of two, and the sublight engines of the Raptors were also much larger than the relatively compact impulse drives carried by Starfleet shuttlepods. The inclusion of the FTL jump engine had necessitated a larger vessel than the standard Starfleet design, but since only a small operating crew was intended to be carried, it was still considerably smaller than a Raptor.

Trip smiled again as he thought of the equipment aboard the new vessel. Standard Starfleet sensors were supplemented by the DRADIS array from a Colonial Raptor, giving it enhanced search capability. Armed with photonic torpedoes, one plasma cannon and one phase cannon, the vessel packed a punch. And, Trip knew, it had polarized hull plating. Where a standard Starfleet pod can withstand two, or maybe three, phase cannon or disruptor hits, he thought to himself, this baby should be able to stand up to twice, or even three times that many.

Of course, Trip knew that the new ship, tough as it was, would not survive long in a stand-up engagement with a Xindi warship. But the heavy armament and protection might allow them the time they needed to jump away and out of danger.

There was a dull thud as the magnetic arm which would lower them out through the launch bay doors made contact with the roof of the craft. As Trip looked out of front canopy, he could see the launch bay doors opening below them. The voice of Hoshi Sato, the ENTERPRISE's communications officer, came through the speakers. "Shuttlepod MARION," she said, "You are cleared for launch."

Trip felt a small surge of pride as he heard the name of the new vessel. Francis Marion, the famous "Swamp Fox" of the American Revolution, was one of Trip's distant ancestors. Marion, a guerrilla leader, had evaded the pursuit of British forces by retreating into the swamps of South Carolina, sallying forth from the swamps to attack isolated British outposts or to gain vital intelligence for the Patriot cause. Trip knew that this vessel would be engaged in similar activities. Out here in space, there were no obviously swamps to provide convenient hiding places. Nebulae, asteroid fields, and the odd planetary atmosphere will have to do instead, Trip thought to himself, smiling.

"Affirmative," Trip said. "Launching now." He pressed a button on his console, and the mechanical arm extended itself, pushing the MARION out of the open bay doors and depositing the ship at a safe distance from the ENTERPRISE. The arm disengaged, and withdrew back into the larger vessel.

"Well, lets see how this baby handles," Trip said, a big grin on his face. "Engaging impulse drive. Ahead, one quarter impulse." He pressed a button on his console and the MARION moved away.

"Jump calculations completed," Lee said.

"Engage Jump Drive," Trip ordered.

"Engaging drive," Lee said. Trip felt a momentary sensation of disorientation as the jump drive engaged.

On the bridge of the ENTERPRISE, Captain Archer watched as the MARION disappeared in a brief flash of white light. He knew there were a lot of unanswered questions about the design of the new vessel. If they'd gotten the answers to any of those wrong, this might well be a one-way trip. "Good luck, Trip," he said softly.

Meanwhile, near a subspace amplifier which the ENTERPRISE had left behind while en route to the Delphic Expanse, there was a brief flash of white light as the MARION re-entered normal space.

Trip quickly pressed several buttons on his console. "Transmitting the Captain's message to Earth." He looked back at Chief Tyrol. "We did it!" Trip exclaimed, his face split by a wide grin. Tyrol grinned in return.

"So far, so good," Lee said. "It appears the design is sound."

"Yes," Malcolm said. "I had wondered whether we would survive the first jump." He grinned. "I'm glad I was wrong about that." He got up from his seat and came to stand beside Tucker. Looking out of the front canopy, he said, "How far are we from the ENTERPRISE?"

"About twelve light years," Trip said. "We're about five light years outside the Delphic Expanse."

"That's the usual maximum safe jump distance for this type of Jump Drive," Lee said.

"But I was given to understand that the distance between the ENTERPRISE and your fleet in the Beta Quadrant was at least a couple of hundred light years," Malcolm said, a frown on his face.

"Basically, in order to traverse that distance in one jump, we had to replicate the malfunction of Racetrack's jump computer which brought her there in the first place," Tyrol said. "Since we were going to a known point in space, we were able to do that." He sighed. "Even then it's dangerous. But we considered it worth the risk."

"Ah," Malcolm said. "I see."

A flashing light on the tactical panel suddenly drew Malcolm's attention. Stepping over to the display, he said, "Vessel detected on long-range scanners." He looked at Trip. "It's headed this way."

"Were you expecting visitors?" Lee asked.

"No," Tucker said.

"Powering up weapons and polarized hull plating," Malcolm said.

"Hold on, let's see how effective our fancy new disguise is," Trip said, referring to the carbon composite "stealth" coating applied to the hull of the MARION. "Weapons on standby." He looked at Lee. "How long until we can jump again?"

"Ten minutes," Lee said.

"Let's just sit tight and see what our new friend wants," Trip said.

"DRADIS puts range at 50,000 kilometers and closing rapidly," Chief Tyrol said, looking over Malcolm's shoulders. He was still getting used to the Earthlings' scale of distance measurement.

Soon the alien vessel came into view. Trip frowned as he recognized the sleek, dangerous lines of an Orion vessel.

"Orions!," Malcolm exclaimed. "What are they doing out here?"

"Nothing good," Trip said.

"You've encountered these aliens before?" Lee asked.

"Not personally," Trip replied. "But they've been encountered by Earth Cargo Service convoys, sometimes as traders, other times as pirates."

"I doubt they're here to trade," Malcolm said.

"No, my guess is they detected our transmission and they've come here to investigate," Trip said.

As they watched, the Orion approached the subspace amplifier. It was a small vessel, only about a third the size of the ENTERPRISE and clearly not capable of carrying much cargo. But they could clearly see the powerful disrupter banks it carried. "It's a slave raider," Trip said.

"A slave raider?" Chief Tyrol asked.

"Among other things, the Orions deal in slaves," Malcolm said. "They raid freighters and isolated settlements and take captives." He grimaced. "Trust me, you DON'T want to end up in an Orion slave market."

Trip looked over at Malcolm. "Any indication they've seen us?"

"No," Malcolm said.

Trip grinned. The disguise seems to be working, he thought to himself.

Just then, the Orion halted, positioning itself above the amplifier. As they watched, a hatch opened in the bottom of the ship, and two grappling lines shot out, latching onto the amplifier with magnetic locks. The Orions began drawing the amplifier into their hold.

"Those bastards!" Malcolm exclaimed. "They're taking the amplifier!"

Trip looked at Lee. "How soon will the jump engine be ready?"

"Another two minutes," Lee replied.

Trip looked over at Malcolm. "Can you take out their engines with one shot?" he asked.

"Maybe," Malcolm said. "They aren't expecting an attack. It might work."

A predatory grin came over Tucker's face. "Do it." he ordered.

"Targeting phase and plasma cannon," Malcolm said. "Firing"

Bright red beams suddenly lanced out from the phase and plasma cannon emitters of the MARION, crossing the distance between it and the Orion vessel in an instant. Malcolm gave a loud whoop of triumph as one of the Orion vessel's twin nacelles went spinning away into deep space. The Orion ship hung in space at an odd angle, like a marionette with a cut string.

"What about it, Malcolm?" Trip asked anxiously. If the Orions weren't completely disabled, they might have to get out of there, and fast.

Malcolm stared at his scanners. "Detecting power fluctuations," he said. "Looks like their warp drive is offline, impulse too." He grinned. "They're dead in space."

Trip opened hailing frequencies. "Orion Slaver," Trip said. "This is the United Earth vessel MARION. The amplifier you have stolen is the property of United Earth. Return it at once."

The gravelly voice of an Orion came through the speakers. "Earth vessel! We have stolen nothing. We salvaged unclaimed debris from space, and you have wantonly attacked us! We owe you nothing, and we will return nothing."

"Their impulse drive is coming on line!" Malcolm exclaimed.

"Take 'em out, Malcolm," Trip said. "Photonic torpedoes...fire!"

Malcolm pressed a button on his console, and two photonic torpedoes left their tubes, darting out at the Orion vessel. There was a brilliant flash as the Orion vessel suddenly exploded. All that was left of it was a cloud of floating space debris.

Lee watched the scene in wonder. "You have very impressive weapons, indeed," he said.

"We surprised them, and without their main engines, they weren't able to polarize their hull plating," Trip said. "Let's get out of here."

Lee nodded, and pressed several buttons on his console. With a flash of light, the MARION jumped away.

PARIS, UNITED EARTH, 25 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Nathan Samuels, a tall, handsome man in his mid-fifties, with graying, blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and dressed in a fashionable business suit of pin-striped navy blue, sat in a private conference room adjoining his office in a building facing the Place de la Concorde in Paris, frowning as he watched, for the second time, the message which had been received earlier that day from Captain Jonathan Archer of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, currently in the Delphic Expanse, some fifty light years away. Samuels, a native of the United States, had been the Prime Minister of United Earth for about a year. In that time he'd had to make a number of tough decisions. And now, because of Archer's message, he had to make another.

Captain Archer, Samuels knew, was charged with possibly the most important mission in human history...to find the mysterious Xindi, and somehow stop them from carrying out their plan to commit genocide on the human race, the first step of which would be the destruction of the planet Earth, itself. The message from Archer represented the first progress report on said mission since the ENTERPRISE disappeared into the Expanse, over six months ago. The message detailed the early contacts the ENTERPRISE had made with the Xindi, and their discovery of the mysterious, gigantic spheres which seemed to play some role, still undetermined, in the creation of deadly spatial anomalies there. That part of the message, while disturbing, had at least been expected.

But Archer had then gone on to report some additional news which was not only completely unexpected, but which also represented a situation which was, potentially, as dangerous as the current Xindi crisis. Now, Samuels awaited the arrival of the leaders of several of the most important regional governments who had joined to form the government of United Earth, not so long ago. Together, they would help him decide what to do, and once the decision was made, to ensure that it was supported by the United Earth Assembly, the union's legislative body.

It's amazing to think that United Earth has existed for just forty years now, Samuels thought to himself. Samuels himself had been just a teenager when the Articles of Union had been signed, right here in Paris, in the year 2113. It had a been a reality for him all of his adult life. He knew that for most people around the world, it had been a fact of life for them since birth.

But the new union was still fragile. The last remaining independent nation-state on Earth, Australia, had joined the United Earth government just three years ago. The Union itself was made up of constituent nation states or regional alliances, such as the United States of America, the Soviet Union (reformed in the aftermath of the Third World War), China, Japan, Canada, the European Alliance, the African Confederation, the Arab League, the Latin-American Federation, and numerous others. Each of these still jealously guarded what sovereignty it had reserved to itself upon joining United Earth, and each demanded inclusion in the process of making the major decisions by which the government of Earth was conducted. There had been some bitter divisions within the Assembly over how to handle the Xindi Crisis. Samuels was well aware that those divisions could well emerge afresh in the wake of the news contained in Archer's message. He had invited the leaders of those nations and alliances which commanded the largest number of votes within the Assembly here today. Gradually, they began to arrive, and after greeting Samuels, to seat themselves around the conference table.

First to arrive was Francois Bertrand, the French President of the European Alliance. Bertrand was a somewhat portly man in his early sixties, with a balding pate of graying black hair, a large nose, and jet black eyes. He sported a thin mustache over his fleshy lips, and was dressed in a fashionable gray business suit.

Bertrand was closely followed by Phyllis Harrison, President of the United States, a striking woman in her late forties, with blue eyes and red hair, stylishly cut. She wore a conservative black business suit with a long black skirt, and sat down next to Bertrand on the right side of the table.

Nikolai Federov, Premier of the Soviet Union, a nation which had reformed when Russia occupied the formerly independent republics in the wake of the Third World War, was a kindly-looking old man in his late sixties, with a clean-shaven head, and a wrinkled face with large brown eyes, a thin nose, and a mouth which readily yielded to the urge to smile. Dressed in a slightly out-of-date gray pinstriped business suit, he sat directly across the table from President Harrison, who often differed with him in the Assembly.

Yuan Kai Ming, the Premier of the Republic of China, was a short man, but wiry and strong. About fifty years of age, he wore a black mustache and beard, cut in what had, in the early twentieth century, been known as the "Fu Manchu" style. He wore a dark green business suit with a jacket of the unusual cut favored by people in east Asia...no lapels and buttoned to the throat, relieving him of the onerous necessity of wearing a tie...and sat next to Federov on the left side of the table.

Julio Castro y Chavez, President of the Latin American Federation, came in next. Scion of two of the most enduring political dynasties in Latin America, with roots back into the Twentieth Century, he was a handsome man in his late forties, with an unruly shock of jet black hair, equally black eyes, and skin of a rich, coffee-with-cream tone. Dressed in a white business suit of the sort which was popular in Latin America at this time, he seated himself on the left side of the table, next to Yuan.

Mswati Thumbuzeki, President of the African Confederation, a tall, thin man with dark brown skin, black hair and eyes, and a mouthful of white teeth which gleamed when he smiled, which was often, came in next. Dressed in a black business suit, he sat down on the far end of the table, facing Samuels.

President Thumbuzeki was soon joined by Harinder Singh Brar, the Prime Minister of India. India was, after China, the second most populous nation in the world despite the huge losses the nation had suffered in the Eugenics Wars, and later, the Third World War. It was also the acknowledged leader of the South Asian League, which included former nation-states such as Burma, Thailand, Malaysia, Greater Indo-China, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Brar, a portly man with dark brown skin, black hair and eyes, and a thin black mustache, was dressed in a beige suit of similar cut to that worn by President Yuan of China,

Finally, Abdullah ibn Faisal, the President of the Arab League, came in. A tall man with dark brown eyes and an aquiline nose who was a scion of the Hashemite royal house which had ruled in Jordan since the early Twentieth Century, and sporting a small black mustache and goatee, he was dressed in traditional Arab attire, a long white Thawb with a black and white checked keffiyeh and black agal.[1] He seated himself with Thumbuzeki and Brar.

Samuels looked around the table. The leaders had, consciously or unconsciously, arranged themselves around the table into the three great power blocs which ruled in the Assembly. The "Western Bloc," nations which had been members of the former Western Alliance during the Third World War, sat on the right side of the table. The "Eastern Bloc," made up of nations ruled by neo-Communist regimes which had emerged in the wake of the Third World War and which often opposed the policies proposed by the Western Bloc, sat on the left side of the table. And on the far end, facing Samuels, were the "Non-Aligned Bloc," which formed an all-important "swing vote" in the United Earth Assembly. Together, these leaders controlled over four fifths of the votes in the Assembly. If he could convince them to support his decision, he knew the Assembly would follow. If not...well, that would complicate things greatly, to put it mildly.

"Thank you all for coming here on such short notice," Samuels said with a smile.

"You said it was a matter of planetary security," replied ibn Faisal. "But you did not say of what sort. Has there been more news of the Xindi?"

"There has, indeed," Samuels said. "But that is not what I called you here to discuss."

There was a great deal of murmuring among the assembled leaders at this statement. Finally, President Harrison of the United States spoke up. "If not the Xindi, then what?"

Samuels nodded, then spoke. "Your Excellencies, we have received a message from Captain Archer in the Delphic Expanse. Although a portion of that message does involve the Xindi, and will be shared with you at a later time, that portion was simply a progress report and will necessitate no decisions on the part of the Assembly. However, the remaining portion of the message was different." He pressed a button on the table in front of him and a hatch in the ceiling, measuring a little over four feet long on each side, slid open. A large cube-like object, with four rectangular sides measuring three feet tall by four feet long, lowered itself down from this hatchway. On each of the four rectangular sides was a video screen, one facing each side of the square table. Samuels pressed a second button, and the face of Jonathan Archer appeared on the screen.

"As we were preparing to depart from the planet, a small vessel suddenly appeared nearby," Archer was saying. "This vessel turned out to be a scout ship, sent out by a fleet carrying all the survivors of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, fleeing the destruction of their home worlds. The people of the Twelve Colonies are humans, just like us. They lived on twelve planets, circling a cluster of four stars in the far reaches of the Beta Quadrant, hundreds, if not thousands, of light years from Earth. They enjoyed a common government, and all claimed descent from colonists sent out from a planet called Kobol, thousands of years ago."

Archer paused, as if unsure how to continue. Then he spoke again. "The Twelve Colonies of Kobol were destroyed, earlier this year, in a sneak attack by a race of artificial lifeforms known as the Cylons. The survivors...less than fifty thousand of them...fled into space aboard every ship capable of faster-than-light travel which survived the Cylon assault. Uncertain of where to go...the region of space where they come from is nearly devoid of life-bearing worlds...they turned to their religious texts for guidance."

"Religion, bah!," muttered Federov. "Mere superstition."

"Be quiet and listen," Harrison whispered, aiming a frosty gaze at the Russian.

"...Scrolls of Pythia, which teach them that all humans evolved on a planet known as Kobol," Archer was saying when quiet was restored. "According to the Scrolls, twelve tribes of humans left Kobol and went to the star cluster where the Twelve Colonies were eventually founded. But the Scrolls also teach that a Thirteenth Tribe had left the planet before the others, heading in the opposite direction, where it eventually found and settled a planet known as Earth."

At that, there were shocked exclamations from most of the delegates, and Samuels briefly paused the playback of Archer's message.

"This is impossible!" Yuan shouted to be heard over the din. "Our science has firmly documented that humanity, as a race, evolved here on Earth!" Most of the other leaders agreed with him.

"Yes," Samuels said, standing up and raising his hands in an effort to restore order. "I am well aware of this. And I don't know what the explanation of it all is, yet. But if you will continue to listen, I think you'll find the rest of the message interesting, to say the least." He pressed the button to un-pause the playback, and sat back down to watch.

"As a result of their study of the scrolls, the leadership of the fleet decided to search for Earth, in the hope that their brethren, the Thirteenth Tribe, would take them in and protect them from the Cylons. For the Cylons pursued the refugees from the Twelve Colonies, determined to wipe out the last vestiges of the human race from the universe."

Archer paused again, appearing deep in thought for a moment, then looked back at the camera to speak again. "I had Doctor Phlox perform examinations of the crewmen aboard the scout ship, and they are completely human. There are some minor genetic variations not seen on Earth, but that would be expected if all humans are indeed descended from one people, divided many thousands of years ago and living separately on worlds many light years away from each other. But almost all of their genes are identical to genes found among human populations on Earth." He paused once more before continuing. "I believe, based on these facts, that they are, in fact, humans and that they are related to the human population of Earth. How that came to be, when our own science clearly shows that humans evolved on Earth, I don't know. Perhaps their ancestors were, somehow, removed from Earth and settled on the planet Kobol at some distant point in the past, and their own scriptures represent a confused memory of those events. But the important point is that they are our brothers and sisters, and they need our help."

Archer smiled now. "I know that some viewing this message will be asking themselves, why should we help them? We have enough problems of our own." He looked intently at the camera. "Aside from the moral imperative to do so, it turns out that the Colonials...as they call themselves...may hold the key to the successful defense of Earth against the Xindi. While much of their technology is far less advanced than our own, they do possess one technology, the technology of faster-than-light travel, which is well beyond that used by ourselves or any of the other species we have encountered, including the Xindi. They have the ability to literally jump over distances of many light years, instantaneously. It took the ENTERPRISE weeks to get here to the Delphic Expanse. With the Colonial technology, other Earth vessels could be here in less than a day."

At this, pandemonium broke out as all the assembled leaders shouted to be heard. Samuels turned off the video, and pressing another button, caused the screen-bearing cube to rise back up into its place above the ceiling, after which the hatch-cover slid back into place with a soft hiss. Samuels stood up and raised his hands once more. "Please, listen to me," he said loudly. The other leaders gradually stopped arguing among themselves, and gave their attention to Samuels.

"Archer also reported that the Cylons, who are pursuing the Colonials, have technology very similar to that of the Colonials," he said when quiet was restored. "Colonial and Cylon weapons technology is, not to put too fine a point on it, primitive compared to our own. Their vessels are armed with conventional cannon firing chemically propelled shells, and conventional and nuclear missiles propelled by chemical rockets. We should be able to withstand a Cylon attack, should it come. And the advantages which the Colonial faster-than-light propulsion systems would give us...they call them FTL Jump Drives...would be enormous. We would hold a considerable military advantage over every other race in this part of the galaxy."

"Including the Vulcans?" President Bertrand asked in amazement.

"Including the Vulcans," Samuels said, nodding.

"They wouldn't like that at all," President Harrison said. "Those bastards have been holding back our space program for most of the past century."

"Those 'bastards,' as you call them," Samuels said, "are also our closest friends and allies among the alien races. I propose that we share the technology with them, and with any other race who will stand with us against the Xindi threat."

"The Vulcans aren't standing with us now," Premier Federov pointed out, testily. "They've left us to deal with it on our own."

"Given the bargaining chip we now have, I think we can change that," Samuels said. "The Andorians who Archer contacted last year have made some overtures expressing support for us, and they are rivals of the Vulcans. I am sure they'd be interested in this technology, and Vulcan won't want to be left out in the cold, either."

"But, if we give them the technology, aren't we giving up our bargaining chip?" President Castro y Chavez asked.

Samuels smiled. "Apparently these engines are run by a fuel which naturally occurs in only a very few places in the galaxy. Only the Colonials...or the Cylons...know how to detect it in its raw state, or how to refine it once it has been extracted. That information WILL NOT be shared. If the Vulcans or the Andorians...or anyone else...wants to use this technology, they'll have to get their fuel from US." He looked around the table. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to offer the Colonial fleet asylum here in the Sol System, in exchange for the FTL Jump Engine technology described by Archer. All those in favor, say Aye!"

The various leaders looked at each other, and then one after another, they raised their right hands and said, "Aye." The only dissenting vote was Castro y Chavez of the Latin American Federation, who often was a gadfly in the Assembly who voted at odds with the majority just for the sake of preventing any action from passing unilaterally.

"Good," Samuels said. "Then that's settled. Archer instructed us to relay our response back to him in three days. A FTL-Jump-equipped ship will apparently be stationed hear one of the subspace amplifiers the ENTERPRISE left behind as it journeyed to the Delphic Expanse. I will see that our message is sent at the correct time to be received by that vessel." He smiled again. "Thank you all for coming, once again." And with that, the meeting broke up, and Samuels was left alone again. He sat back down in his chair, and rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

There was another portion of the message...where Archer had described the potential threat of Cylon infiltrators aboard the Colonial fleet...that he had chosen not to share with the delegates. He knew he was running a great risk in not doing so, both politically and in real terms for the human race itself. But he felt the technology Archer had described was important enough to take that risk. Archer had informed him that Doctor Phlox was working on a way to detect these infiltrators.

"God Speed, Phlox," Samuels muttered to himself. "God speed."

[1] For those not familiar with the terminology, a Thawb is the ankle-length traditional Bedouin robe. The Keffiyeh is the large, square head-cloth which hangs down to cover the neck, and the agal is the black cord, worn doubled, which is used to keep the keffiyeh in place on the head.