First Contact 9:
Holding out for a Hero...
Six looked at the main screen: the Colonial remnant had found Earth far sooner than anyone had through possible. But that didn't look like too much of a problem: the fabled thirteenth tribe was almost a millennia behind the destroyed Colonies of Kobol. In fact, the only spacecraft the Basestar had encountered so far were primitive automated probes, many no longer functioning.
Earth looked like an open target; no problem for the might of the Cylon war machine, yet Six was unusually hesitant. Something seemed wrong to her, like they weren't seeing the whole picture.
But the Cylon High Command was absolute: the final destruction of the human race was to begin at once.
An armada of Raiders was launched from the assembled Basestars, forming up on their signed flight leaders and begin their attack run on the Earth. Long-range kinetic-kill missiles struck out at the few long-range sensor satellites built by the inhabitants as the Galactic struggled to get her remaining fighters in the air as fast as possible.
It was a noble, but ultimately futile gesture: no force, Colonial or otherwise, could withstand the attack force sent against them. Cylon victory was a certainty.
Then internal sensor started to detect strange reading somewhere near the lead Basestar's command deck.
"You know," A strange voice suddenly appeared right behind Six, "some people might take this sort of shit personally."
"What?" The stunned Cylon span round and found herself face-to-face with another blond woman of similar height and build. The main difference was the clothing: while Six was dressed in her regular slinky red dress, the newcomer was wearing a white suit and a t-shit covered in some sort embalm made up of red and white stripes on a blue background.
"You see, that's MY planet down there." The strange woman took a long drag on a cigarette and then blew a smoke ring in the Cylons face, "And I don't like people trying to invade my planet, especially when I've got the mother-and-father of all hangovers to deal with."
"You can not stand in the way of God's will!" Six screamed, mentally summoning a platoon of Centurions to deal with the newcomer. The clamshell doors protecting the command centre hissed opened, and the robotic solders approached, weapons at the ready. "Now you will die!"
"Oh give me a break..." The strange human woman rolled her eyes as she pointed one hand at the approaching Centurions: electricity shot from her finger tips and hit the lead Cylon, blowing a hole straight through its chest. More arcs of electricity blasted even more Centurions. "I can keep this up all day." The woman smirked.
"Just who are you?"
"The name's Sparks, Jenny Sparks. And this is your only warning: BUGGER OFF!"
"No. Impressive as your powers are, you are but one human: there is no way you can stop us all."
"Who said I'm alone?"
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The area of space ahead of the lead Cylon Raider seemed to rip apart as a ship the size of a small country moved into normal space directly between the Colonial Remnant and the attacking forces. The Raiders lacked the true sentience of even a single modern Centurion, and was only able to class things as either friendly or hostile. Given the strange ship's sudden appearance, and its relative position, they immediately classed it as hostile, and went into attack mode.
Hundreds of missiles, both conventional and nuclear, spat forth into space, converging on the new arrival. Space lit up as the ships massed point-defence systems tracked the missiles and blasted them from the sky: not a single warhead reached its target.
Glowing yellow portals appeared just outside the strange ships perimeter defence range, and what looked like dozens of unprotected humans flew into space.
The simple minds of the Raiders were startled by this development, and they asked the more advanced AI's on the Basestars for advice. But this failed to help them, as the humans started to attack the confused Raiders, ripping though their numbers quickly and methodically. Some Raider tried to run, only to be taken out at range by the massive spaceship as it started to slowly advance on the Basestars, firing as it went.
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"So here's the deal." Sparks look at Six as she lit a fresh cigarette, "You go away and don't come back. I'm not exactly happy to what you did to the Colonials, but I'm not the type to go looking for payback either. So go away, forget about Earth, and we can all live happily ever after. Well, live anyway."
"And if we don't?" Six asked.
"I was worried you'd say that..." Sparks rolled her eyes, "Doctor."
"Leave it to me." A strange looking human with thick red glasses appeared out of nowhere and looked the astonished Cylon in the eye, "Abracadabra, bitch."
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Six blinked: the command deck of her Basestar was gone, replaced by an endless expanse covered with disembodied human heads.
"You like my home-away-from-home?" The strange human asked, floating in the air above her, "This is everything you want to kill, everything that makes the human race what it is; the good and the bad."
"Every birth, every death, every life since the dawn of humanity, Colonial and Terran alike: every dream, every idea, every triumph, every failure, every murder, every mutilation, every kiss, every caress, all the love, all the hate. EVERYTHING." The man continued as Six started to sink into the ground, "Do you really think you can kill all this?"
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"Well?" Sparks asked as she looked down at the shivering wreck that had been the so-called Hero of Caprica, "I though you were going to kill her?"
"Why would I do that?" The Doctor asked, "She's already broken into a million pieces. And this way, she serves as a warning to the rest of her race."
"Whatever: I'm nowhere near drunk enough to try and understand anything you just said. Come on, let's go home. Door."
A yellow light filled the command deck, and Six was left alone with her shattered mind as the Basestar turned around and started the long journey home.
The End
(Battlestar Galactica/The Authority)
