Author's note: It's been a while since the last chapter. I apologize for that. Work keeps me busy still, with very little time to think about the story, much less write it. It has resulted in some writer's block in which I find myself staring at the keyboard and display, unsure what I'm supposed to write about. Well, I hope this slowly written chapter has inspired new ideas in me and that there won't be such a long hiatus as this one before the next chapter comes out.
Dave: You're right. Ba'al was the single Goa'uld who could have become a recurring character, even more than he'd been. He was the only one not depicted solely as egomaniacal and without any brains. Therefore, it was the perfect Goa'uld for the role I gave him.
As far as more TV shows with more scheming villains go, fewer tv shows or movies with vampires would already be a big step forward.
Morgauxo: Jumping a ship inside another is dangerous, for both ships the destruction is assured if they are of equal size. I don't think that wasting a battlestar by jumping inside a Cylon vessel is very economical and if smaller ships are used the result would be proportionally weaker. Also, the jump inside another ship was an accident. It is not easy to jump exactly where another ship is.
Thanks to my beta, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too.
updated on 6/26/2019
A new ship. It had been a long service as the captain of the Prometheus, and Pendergast was glad it was finally over. The Prometheus wasn't a bad ship. He'd cherish many good memories he had accumulated during the last seven years. However, the ship wasn't up to standards anymore, and any upgrade would have only prolonged the inevitable; the day it would be turned into a museum piece.
He thought he would get a Daedalus class ship for his next assignment, but rumors started getting around that the Daedalus class had been discontinued and that he wouldn't be getting any of the already existing ships of the same type. To him, this meant that he could only get an Achilles class battleship, which was okay with him. The ship was the best they had to offer, as it was even more exciting to command an Achilles than a dreadnought. A Hercules was the most prominent and more badass ship the Terrans could come up with, but it wasn't as fun to command as it was an Achilles. The Achilles were more agile, the crew was large yet smaller than that of the Hercules, and the Achilles class ships were usually involved in more exciting missions than the Hercules class ships, which, once the task he was currently on ends, it would mean a lot. The Hercules ships were usually stationed in a star system, as a defender, unmoving for months or called only when the really bad guys had to be fought. Therefore, Pendergast was looking forward to getting a shiny new Achilles.
So, he didn't know how to feel now that he knew he wasn't going to get one.
The top brass had decided that an Achilles wasn't the right fit for the mission he was on. A battleship could better be utilized for other tasks than the one of babysitting the Colonials - that's how they'd explained it to him. Therefore, they'd decided that his mission would be perfect as a testing bed for the latest prototype, the heavy cruiser Damocles, that they had rushed into service ahead of schedule.
The ship was a beast. Even though only 510 meters from bow to stern, it was still categorized as a heavy hitter. The ship could go toe to toe with the likes of the Achilles. Or at least that was what the specs were telling him.
The Damocles was also a testing platform for new technologies and innovative design patterns. For one, the ship had only a small cargo hold with no other storage areas. That was because they had incorporated technology similar to that of the Wraith culling system that, on paper at least, should keep any cargo, spare parts, ammunition, water or food that doesn't have to be readily available, inside a matrix that didn't take any space. It only took energy to keep whatever was inside from disappearing and through a beaming system to retrieve it whenever the need arose.
The technology wasn't perfect, not yet. The more stuff there was to be stored in the matrix, the more energy was needed to keep it intact. Pendergast was also worried that under battle conditions the system could be damaged, resulting in the loss of whatever was inside. The engineers that had installed the system informed him that the system has built-in redundancy and that a complete loss of power was improbable. They'd also told him that in their opinion the scientists that had worked on the system were overconfident in their estimate on truly how good was the system they had designed and that if main power ceased flowing for a few hours, the content would be lost. They'd also told him there was a backup storage system in which cargo would automatically be transferred in case the main matrix failed unexpectedly, but frankly, they had only tested the system with small quantities, so he wasn't sharing the same confidence in the system as the scientists proudly were. When there was going to be hundreds of tons of stuff in it, even more than there already was now, he wasn't sure if the backup system would work as advertised, and if it didn't, he and the rest of the crew would pay the price.
The ship was a prototype. As such, it had systems aboard still untested under battle conditions. After all, the ship was a warship, and systems that work just fine under normal circumstances, don't necessarily work in the same way when bombarded by enemy fire. It was precisely the point why they were giving him the ship. To test it on a mission that supposedly shouldn't involve any fighting.
Pendergast thought that the battle against the Lucian Hat'ak was proof of the contrary. Proof that there's always a chance of encountering an opponent that needed fighting. However, that was just the opinion of a mere captain — an idea that the top brass didn't share.
Still, the ship was marvelous; from the inside and the outside. He was genuinely looking forward to exploring the many new gizmos now at his disposal.
"Computer, readiness status please," Pendergast said while standing in his chair, in the middle of the ship's bridge.
"Full system check is currently at 73 percent. The cargo has been safely stored inside the storage matrix. I must inform you that the storage matrix is using 17% more energy than initially predicted for this amount of cargo," a disembodies female voice replied.
"Will this hamper your nominal power distribution?" Pendergast asked.
"Power consumption is still inside established guidelines. However, I must inform you that if power isn't supplied for longer than 72 minutes, the storage unit will deplete its energy reserve and the content will be permanently lost."
"72 minutes is not a lot of time," Pendergast stated. He understood why they had added the system. The ship was smaller than an Achilles, but with the new storage system, it had almost as much space for its systems as the more massive battleship. It gave the Damocles enough room to have nearly the same armament and energy production capabilities as its older brother, which was a good thing for a warship. Smaller, more maneuverable, but still almost as powerful as an Achilles. He also knew that if the new design of the heavy cruiser proved to be a success, other ships like battleships and dreadnoughts would also change, considerably. He heard rumors that the next Achilles would be based on the same technologies the Damocles used and that it would still be by at least a 100 meters longer than its predecessor. He also knew that the next generation of Achilles would be called battlecruisers rather than battleships. Pendergast didn't understand why they were changing the naming system for the ships. Maybe because they were planning on introducing a new class of warships that was even bigger, but he couldn't be sure of that. It was true that there was a too big gap between the mass of an Achilles and a Hercules. Maybe they were planning on making a new class of ships that was somewhere in between the Achilles and the biggest warship the Terrans were building. He dreaded what the R&D guys would come up with next with a ship the size of a Hercules and with the tech they were using on the Damocles. Not to mention that they were coming with new tech every day. He knew that a Hercules couldn't be smaller than it was because of the size of its primary weapon, and he could only try to imagine what they were going to pack inside such a ship that does not need any storage area. However, that was something for the distant future to answer, since the Damocles was only a prototype and until all tests returned with positive results, the other ships would not see the light of day. "Computer, how are we standing with the crew?"
"The ship's crew is all accounted for."
"Even the TIA agents and the... um... marine detachment?" He wasn't sure how to feel about having a platoon of marines stationed aboard the ship, but that was the new doctrine the top brass had come up with. All warships would in the future have Marines stationed aboard. They or the TIA agents would be performing most of the away missions, especially when in hostile territory. There were also talks that, once the Terran Federation was finally formed, an Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) would be established. The ONI would work as a separate entity from the TIA, and ONI agents would be permanently stationed on every ship in the Terrans Fleet. The TIA would then turn its attention purely on the civilian side of the intelligence business and would collaborate with their navy counterpart only when needed.
"Yes. Agent Brian Fitzpatrick was the last to board the ship ten minutes ago."
"How long until the diagnostic is completed?"
"Twenty minutes."
"Well, then I have enough time to take one last stroll through the ship before we leave the Solar system."
"I must inform you that Council members Gahlen and O'Neil are still on board. They need to depart before we leave the system," the Computer informed.
"Of course. Where are they?"
"They and agent Fitzpatrick are currently with Major Raynolds on Deck Seven - Marines' armory."
"Good, I'll be there if anyone needs me," Pendergast turned towards his XO. "XO, the bridge is yours."
"Aye, Captain," Lieutenant Commander Pavlov replied.
"And, while I'm gone, please check the systems independently from the auto diagnostic the computer is running," Pendergast said, getting up from his chair.
"Not trusting the Computer, sir?" Pavlov replied with a smirk.
"Trust must be earned XO. It doesn't matter if we are talking about a human being or a machine."
"Of course, sir. Checking will be completed by the time you're back."
Pendergast nodded to his XO before walking out of the bridge. The marines and the TIA agents were sharing Deck Seven. He had to admit. The Marines had a magnificent and very separate mess hall, conference room, accommodations, armory, and even a holo-deck where they could simulate training exercises. They could comfortably be living on Deck Seven without ever leaving its confines.
'Maybe that was the intent when the ship was designed,' he contemplated.
Moving through the corridor outside of the bridge, he couldn't but also contemplate on the different feeling the ship gave him compared to that of the Prometheus. The halls, much as the rest of the ship, looked eons ahead of the Prometheus' archaic bulkheads. The Damocles was smooth, doors were sliding aside while making a barely audible hissing sound, and the ambient illumination - somehow utterly unknown to him on how - was feeling as if it was the same everywhere. It was a surreal feeling but calming at the same time. He also never needed to walk more than twenty meters before finding a teleportation booth. He also noticed the forcefield emitters spread evenly in the corridors. When activated, they could instantly isolate a section in case of a breach or to isolate intruders if boarded. He had given a good look at the security system on the ship, and he wasn't sure how anyone could board the vessel with any hope of getting more than two meters before being stopped. The vessel would easily detect an intruder and seal off the corridor they were in, in mere seconds. However, that wasn't all. The artificial gravity would automatically rise to five gees, pinning the intruder down to the floor. He hoped he would never get caught in the same place where an intruder appeared. Suddenly weighing 700 pounds wasn't something he would like to experience. Maybe that was the reason why they had marines. With their combat armor, they would be the only ones capable of moving in such gravity. The pinned down intruders would be easy pickings for them.
With the help of the booth he had just entered, Pendergast traveled to Deck Seven in an instant. From there, he walked to the armory where the various people he wanted to talk to were at the moment. Pendergast, the same as other crew members, was wearing the newly developed contact lenses. There were glasses he could wear too, with the same displaying capabilities, but he had opted for contact lenses instead. The lenses were displaying any information he needed as if a hologram was standing in front of him. Currently, the system was showing him where he needed to go. There were still view screens on the ship and especially on the bridge if the system failed to work as advertised or if a crew member didn't want to wear the contact lenses continuously, but for the most part, view screens were a thing of the past. The lenses could display anything he wished, even a complete three hundred and sixty degrees view of a battle theater as if he was standing in space, with every piece of tactical data he would ever need floating all around him. The lenses would turn completely opaque, hiding everything on the bridge and instead of projecting a full tactical display, with no bulkheads to hamper his view. As he would turn his head, the lenses would shift the perspective with him. There were still those that thought that such a system could be harmful if an error in the system happened during a battle, but thus far Pendergast hadn't noticed any glitches whatsoever. And even if there was an error, there were still the old holographic displays he could use the old fashioned way.
With the help from the contact lenses, he quickly found the armory and entered inside it. As he walked deeper inside, the lenses stopped showing him where he needed to go and became completely transparent. It was an intelligent system, after all.
Inside the large armory, he saw rows of coffins all stacked on one wall of the room. He knew those were the combat armors and a few of the even more frightening prototype power armors of the marines. On another wall, he saw many racks filled with weapons of too many types for his taste. Of course, there were small guns and rifles, like handguns and grav-rifles, but there was also heavier weaponry stacked there, like missile launchers, heavy machine guns, plasma weapons, high and low yield explosives, and even zat-guns. What he liked seeing the least were the missiles for the shoulder launchers. He knew that some of those were tactical nukes. He also knew that there were safety measures that would prevent those from accidentally going off, but he still didn't like having a room on a ship filled with explosives in the range of several kilotons each. This room, the same as the rooms where the torpedoes were stored, would be encompassed in a powerful forcefield when the ship was in battle condition, making it one of the safest places on the ship to be during a battle.
Even with all the precautions he knew they had been placed on the ship, he still didn't like it.
"Oh, Captain," Jack said. "We were just discussing if you were planning on paying us a visit before we left your ship."
"The system check will last for a while longer, and we can't leave before that is done. I thought it would be a good opportunity to take one last stroll through the ship."
"So, what's your opinion of the ship, Captain?" Jack continued.
"I must admit, the ship's... something else. Though we've incorporated alien tech before, what we have here looks like something coming from the distant future."
"I know what you mean. The R&D people used their imagination to come up with something different. The Prometheus, Daedalus, and even the later larger ships were great designs, but they were, in the end, all designed with the same mindset as our floating ships on Earth. What we have here is the first design where they've taken full and conscious advantage of all the technologies at our disposal. If this prototype succeeds, and I don't see why it wouldn't, other ships will be designed similarly."
"I'm sure they will. Although, I must admit that maybe this prototype has been rushed a little. I mean, it was scheduled to be completed in four more months."
"It was decided that we needed to speed up the development of this testing platform. Efforts have been quadrupled to complete the ship more quickly. Do you have any specific reason why you feel that this ship went into production too quickly?"
"For one, I'm a little worried about the hangar bays," Pendergast replied.
"Ah, that's understandable, but that couldn't have been avoided. The ship was planned to have the next generation of space superiority interceptors, and the launch tubes have been designed accordingly."
The ship didn't have the same open hangars as the other vessels did because the next generation of fighters wouldn't have wings. They would be actual space fighters, longer than their predecessors but much narrower. Launch tubes would be used instead of open hangar bays to launch the fighters by using gravitational catapults just like a slug would be propelled from a grav-cannon exiting forward through tubes embedded in the bottom side of the ship. The design didn't allow for fighters with wings to be pushed through the pipes. Raptors, on the other hand, would be dropped from a hangar with a sliding floor. They would be dropped from the ship. With a warship usually meant to face an enemy, it was thought that expelling fighters and raptors from the bottom of the ship would give them better coverage when they were the most vulnerable, which was during launch. Because of these changes, the overall design had changed, now with no hangars on the ship's sides. Instead of side-hangars, protrusions were still there but only meant for the various weapons the ship had there. Instead of empty hangar space, the vessel had weapon emplacements and two reactors on each side, as well as the rear engines. Several forward and rear torpedo tubes had also been added, giving the ship many more weapon ports than the Daedalus design could ever hope of having, even if the two ships were of the same size.
"I understand the reason, but the result is that the Damocles has only two interceptors, and they are both only half-finished prototypes." The R&D had gobbled up two interceptors with some spit, gum, a lot of good intentions. The prototype only had a small portion of the systems the spacecraft was planned on having. As a plus, the new interceptors had a hyperdrive that could cross much greater distances, even to travel between star systems if needed, and with an autonomy of up to two weeks. Something the F-302 could never hope of achieving. The most negative aspect of the birds that he could think of was that they'd barely made a quick spin above their construction yard before getting shipped to the Damocles. It would be his job to perform additional tests and see if the design was viable.
"New warships won't have many fighters on board. Even when fully stacked, the Damocles can only have eight interceptors as its fighters complement, and four raptors or two drop-ships, depending on the mission or the captain's preferences. That's because our fleet now has carrier ships that are better suited to deliver large numbers of smaller vessels, be it fighters, raptors, drop-ships or whatnot. A heavy cruiser is meant to be on the very front of a battle, while carriers are to deliver their payload and then keep outside weapons range."
"I fully agree that the new doctrine is better than the one from the time when we needed multipurpose ships like the Daedalus because they were the only type of ship we had and we had only a few of them. Still, eight interceptors is a lot better than two," Pendergast replied, thinking that he'd have been fine if he'd gotten a full complement of fighters. With the Terrans' current production capabilities, Pendergast was confident that it wouldn't have taken more than a week to build the additional interceptors for him to have a full complement, no matter that they would have been only half done prototypes. He currently had pilots on board as part of his standard crew, with no fighters for them to fly.
"As you said, those are only half done craft that you can test. The quicker you give us a complete report of how they handle themselves and the quicker the R&D will come up with the real deal that... well... you'll have to test again."
The idea of having eight hyperspace capable interceptors was very alluring to Pendergast. As they were bigger, they would be able to carry more missiles than the vipers ever could. When the real deal was finally produced, they should have stronger shields than the vipers, as well as many other goodies the pilots would salivate over and fight on who would be the first to test them. In space, their performance should be considerably better than of their predecessors, the F-302c, as they were never intended for aerial combat like the Vipers. They could still fly and land, but they wouldn't show outstanding performances during a dog fight fought inside a planet's atmosphere, not as good as a viper could.
"Then, I'll have to get on it right away. I already have a few ideas on where to test the new interceptors," Pendergast replied, before turning towards Major Raynolds. "Major, I hope everything is up to standard with your accommodations and other arrangements for your fellow Marines?"
"Captain, you do not have to worry about our accommodations. We are accustomed to living in much smaller accommodations than what we've received here."
"Good, I'm glad." Pendergast turned to face Brian. "Have you installed all your equipment, agent Fitzpatrick?"
"Almost everything, Captain. We still need to power up and test the Asgard Core we took from the Prometheus, but that can be done even after we leave the Solar system," Brian replied.
"And when you say leave, you mean to where the Galactica is?"
"Yes, Captain. Our next task is to deliver a package covertly to Malcolm. After we accomplish that mission, we need to quickly make a pit-stop in the Cyrannus System where we will deliver more agents needed to aid Joshua in his endeavors," Brian explained.
"Brian, make sure that Joshua doesn't hamper the Colonials in any way. We need to find who's giving the Colonials knowledge they shouldn't have and see if the Cylons have more spies on the ground, but we mustn't be responsible for disrupting the Colonials' progress. There's still a chance, albeit a small one, that this Desai character's just a brilliant Colonial and nothing more," Klaus added.
"Of course. Joshua knows what to do and how to do it. He also has a lead on the guy that stole the data from Graystone Industries. Through him, we might find out more about how deep the Cylons have infiltrated the Colonies."
"Sorry, Klaus. I know that this is your shindig, but when are your agents planning on visiting Kobol?" Jack asked. "The planet holds a holographic system we are almost certain it belonged to the Lanteans. There could be more information that could shed some light on who the Colonials are and how they came to be. If we can get our hands on that information, it could help us in our future talks with them. Thus far, they haven't been very cooperative with us. They've been very skeptic about anything we tell them. If we have some proof that humans did not originate from Kobol, proof that we found on their planet of origin, it could be enough for them to finally get it in their thick skulls that we are not the same people. Without it, I fear that any talks will only result in more mistrust."
"Don't worry, Jack. After our agents get updated, both those in the Expeditionary Fleet and the Cyrannus system, Brian is tasked to investigate the Tomb of Athena. However, I don't think that we will find the answer there. We may be able to learn who made the holographic system – that shouldn't be too difficult – but I don't think the Lanteans left anything that will shed light on the origins of the Kobolians," Klaus explained.
"Why are you so sure?" Jack asked.
"Because, Jack, whoever made that hologram, Lantean or somebody else, they clearly didn't want for the Colonials to know the truth about the rest of the galaxy or the origins of humanity. They had ample opportunity to tell them all that even before they left Kobol, but instead, they kept it secret. For some reason, they didn't want the Colonials to know. What that reason is, I don't know, but I don't think that we will find something helpful there."
"We won't know until we try, will we?" Jack asked.
"And that's why Brian will go there, but it isn't a priority," Klaus replied, for some reason smiling wickedly. "If it's so important to you, you can always detach another warship to my mission. With two ships instead of one, Brian would have an adequate workforce to go visit Kobol right away."
Jack was silent for a moment. "Okay, Kobol is not that important. Just make sure your agents pay the planet a short visit when they have the time, all right?"
"I gather that means no second ship for me, right?"
"You gather correctly. The Colonials are still very low on the list of things we have to worry about, no matter the fact that the Ori are not a problem anymore," Jack answered, receiving a nod of understanding from Klaus. "Well, Klaus, I think it's time for us to get back dirt-side and let these people here finally continue with their voyage. Shall we?"
"We shall," Klaus replied.
Jack turned to face the other people in the room. "Well, gentlemen, good luck on your mission - and don't do anything I wouldn't."
Pendergast thought about it, and he couldn't understand what the last part meant. "Of course, sir."
Jack and Klaus pushed a button on a small device they were holding. A moment later, the two council members beamed away. Pendergast saw the clueless expression on the two remaining people. "I too have no idea what Jack wouldn't do. If you need me, Brian, I'll be on the bridge."
"I'll join you shortly, Captain," Brian replied.
He spun around and quickly exited the armory. He walked back the same way he came, quickly reaching the same teleportation booth that he'd used before and through it the corridor leading to the bridge. A short walk later, and he was on the bridge of his shiny new ship. "Are we ready to depart?"
Noticing him, the XO quickly got up from his chair. "Both diagnostics have shown that the ship is fully operational. We are ready to depart, Captain."
Pendergast quickly reached his chair, immediately sitting in it. "Helm, bring all systems to nominal values and engage to leave orbit."
"Aye, sir. All systems are powering up to nominal. Leaving orbit now," the helm promptly replied.
Pendergast watched on the main screen as the ship began moving, with the Earth quickly sliding out of view. "Let's not push it during our maiden voyage. Bring the hyperdrive online and prepare to enter the Eta hyperspace band."
"Hyperdrive is online and ready to enter the Eta hyperspace band as ordered, sir," the reply came from the helm.
"Then, let's get on our way, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir. Engaging hyperdrive now."
Suddenly, a hyper-window opened in front of the ship. The ship quickly slipped through it, entering inside the dimension known as hyperspace. "Two-thirds of max acceleration until we achieve cruising speed, Lieutenant." Pendergast turned toward the XO, now seated in front of his station. "How is the hyperdrive doing, XO?"
"It purrs like a cat, sir. While in the Eta band, the hyperdrive is at barely fifteen percent of its max output, and the central core needs barely five percent of its calculative power for calculating the needed hyper-spatial coordinates. As I said, sir, it purrs like a cat."
"Do you believe the scientists when they said that we could jump between bands without the need to exit hyperspace first?"
"I do sir. They've made several tests, and all were completed with no warnings."
Jumping between bands without the need of dropping out of hyperspace first was a great thing to be able to do. With that, a ship could jump back to the lowest band, the alpha band and come to a dead stop. In that band, the hyperdrive would need a negligible amount of power to keep the ship from dropping out of hyperspace, and they could stay there with a ship dead stopped for as long as they wished, unseen and even untouchable for races that didn't have vessels with hyperspace capability. It also meant that they could jump to a higher band and increase their traveling speed relative to normal space by a high degree. "All right then. Helm, please jump us into the Theta band."
"Aye, sir," the helm replied.
Pendergast suddenly felt a slight tremor, with the view-screen still showing the blue of hyperspace, but by a shade darker. "That's it?"
"Yes, sir. The ship has jumped into the Theta band. Acceleration still at two thirds. We will achieve cruising speed in fifteen more minutes."
"How long until we reach our destination?"
"Once we achieve cruising speed in the Theta band, it will take us half an hour more, sir."
Pendergast turned to Pavlov, his XO. "XO, is the hyperdrive still... purring like a cat?"
"It is, sir. The hyperdrive is at 89 percent of power output, and the central core is using 54 percent of its capacity."
"This ship could even go into the Iota band. That's remarkable."
"If we engage all three micro-ZPMs and divert all power to the hyperdrive, there should be just enough power to jump into the iota band. Although, I'm not certain if the main core would be able to calculate the hyper-spatial coordinates that quickly. It would also mean powering down all other nonessential systems, shields included. Just like the Asgard must do to travel through the Iota band."
"And with the shields down, we can't accelerate much above cruising speed because of the increased radiation and exotic particles that would be hitting our ship's hull, which would limit our top speed just as it limits the top speed of Asgard ships. Higher hyperspaces band, but lower attainable velocity relative to hyperspace, and we would have to suck dry the micro-ZPMs to do it. Not worth it, not for an increase in speed by barely twenty percent."
"Yes, sir, we would have to. However, it could be good to have the ability to jump into a band no other ship except for those of the Asgard can reach. Regardless of what speed we can or cannot achieve."
"The Theta band is already available only to the races of the Second Great Alliance and to the Priors. As far as I know, we are all friends."
"Yes, sir. That is if we are not counting the Vargas. We don't know what their ships can do."
"Yes, except for the Vargas," Pendergast replied thoughtfully. "How long did you say it will take us to reach the Galactica at cruising speed?"
"At cruising speed, a little over half an hour," the XO replied. "Captain, shouldn't we perform additional tests before reaching the Galactica? The cloaking system has been tested only once. I wouldn't want for it to stop working while we are in beaming range of the Galactica."
"I wouldn't want that either, XO. However, the TIA is very eager to deliver whatever they have to deliver to their agents. In an ideal universe, I'd like to have several more days to test everything on this prototype before going back to the mission. But since we are not in a perfect universe, the check we made before departure will have to suffice."
"Understood. Can I at least suggest that we drop at a significant distance from the Colonial Expeditionary Fleet so that if something goes wrong, we can leave before we are detected?"
"Agreed, XO," Pendergast replied, getting up from the command chair. "Well, since we have an hour of boring travel through hyperspace before we reach the Colonials, I'm going to my quarters to deal with some long-overdue paperwork. The bridge is yours, XO."
"Yes, Captain."
The voyage would take a while. There was no point in sitting in his chair while staring into the blue hyperspace the display was showing for the whole duration.
Pendergast left the bridge, quickly moving to his quarters.
The CIC was quiet. Too quiet. The dullness and boredom were apparent on the faces of the Galactica's crew, noticeable even to the untrained eye. In the eyes of the ship's CO, it was all too apparent. It was enough to see Gaeta sitting in his chair rather than standing for Adama to realize how complacent the crew had become.
Gods, how he liked it!
It had been weeks. Full weeks without the alarm sounding even once, and he was glad for it. He'd probably prayed for it, if not consciously, then subconsciously for sure. This little respite after the last few months of a constant sense of fear that had permeated the entire ship, it's bulkheads, and the crew from known and unknown threats, it had left a toll on him.
The Cylons.
In the beginning, it had been a constant chase where the Expeditionary Fleet had played the role of the mouse. There had been times when he and the crew hadn't slept for days, with only pills of various shapes and colors keeping them from breaking apart. On many occasions, he was sure the Cylons would finally catch up to them, with them unable to escape in time.
It almost hadn't happened.
It wouldn't have happened if Delphi's jumpdrive didn't malfunction at the worst possible moment. That mishap had cost them dearly. A ship had been lost with all hands on deck. With so few defenders in the fleet, to begin with, it was a significant blow to their defensive and offensive capabilities. The people in the entire fleet had, for the first time in their lives, felt what war was all about. The Colonies had been blessed with decades of peace, ever since the armistice with the Cylons had been signed. It had been a great time to be living in the Colonies, a time in which people had forgotten the horrors of war. He hadn't forgotten, the same as all of the other veterans hadn't. At least those still alive. However, for younger generations, losing a warship like the Delphi was like getting struck by a wet towel meant to snap them out of their dreams of a universe that wasn't real; not anymore anyway.
It wasn't their fault. The government had told them that this voyage would be a cruise, almost like a vacation, and that they would be the ones who would be safe - those who would be escaping the war. They'd even added ships like the Cloud Nine to the Expeditionary Fleet so that those who had paid top cubits for a ticket would have enjoyed the journey as if it were a well-deserved vacation meant to last until they found their long lost brethren, the Thirteenth Colony - people who would welcome them with open arms. The destruction of the Delphi had forced most to understand that the voyage would not go as it had been advertised.
The Terrans.
Were the Terrans and the Thirteenth Colony the same people? Adama doubted that very much. The Colonials' inherent stubbornness had caused them to flag the Terrans as liars, as people who spat lies about Kobol and from where humans had come. Their determination and unwillingness to take anyone else's words – words that spoke of the Terrans as being an entirely separate race, with no ties to the Colonies whatsoever – had kept them believing in a lie of their own making. They'd been unwilling to understand the simplest of truths. The fact that the Colonials were not the only race of humans in the galaxy. Even when presented with ample proof, they hadn't relented in their stubborn belief that life began on Kobol and that the thirteen Colonies were all there was of the human race. Admiral Cain even came with proof of the contrary, and they took the new information and still tried to explain it through the Exodus from Kobol. They must be descendants from a ship that went in a different direction, they said to themselves. The discovery of an alien craft adrift in space and the fight they had against a pyramidal ship should have finally been proof enough, but again, even then people in the fleet thought that there should be a logical explanation for all that was happening. A statement that didn't necessarily contradict their core belief system.
Adama knew better now. Weeks ago, he had decided that he would examine the information at his disposal without prejudice, once he'd had enough time to think without the constant fear of death following him after every jump they made. The result of that was simple, no matter how hard it was to admit what it was.
The Colonies were not alone. There were other races out there. Human and possibly other unknown races as well, in a galaxy they knew nothing about. He'd concluded that the Colonies were not the only humans in the galaxy and that they knew far less than what they told themselves before going to bed at night. He understood that in this galaxy they thought they knew so well, they were probably the underdog. And an ignorant one at that.
The Asgard.
If he ever felt fear, real fear, that was the day when the Asgard came to rescue the Terrans. Even after witnessing the fight between the pyramidal ship and the Terrans, and even after having understood how outclassed they were against them, he hadn't felt such fear as when the Asgard had contacted them. There was something about that call, about the voice of Thor, without inflection, that made his skin crawl. The way the Asgard had effortlessly turned their ships into space coffins without even firing a single shot and through means they couldn't understand or even knew they existed, was what forced him to think hard of what he knew and what truly was.
His conclusion, unfortunately, was that there were other races, non-human races, out there, for he was sure now that Thor was not a human. His voice and the ship's design were evidence enough to support that conclusion.
Adama sighed. They were indeed living in exciting times.
"Admiral Adama, is something wrong?" Roslin asked. She heard the Admiral sigh.
"Nothing, Madam President. It's just that, this period of calm is giving me a lot of time to think, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing."
Adama and Roslin's collaboration had tightened even more after she'd been elected as the president of the Expeditionary Fleet. She rarely went back to Colonial One, which was a very logical decision. The ship didn't provide any advantages over the Galactica. There was simply nothing she could accomplish there that she couldn't accomplish aboard the Galactica, and with him tied to the Galactica and rarely able to leave it, it had been decided that meetings between the leadership of the Expeditionary Fleet and the military branch should take place here rather than on the Colonial One. Also, and that was only his opinion, the Colonial One was a piece of crap no leader should ever live on while in hostile territory. A slightly bigger rock could break it and with that, kill the leader of the Fleet, as it had almost happened some months prior. Adama wasn't very fond of the prospect of having new elections so soon. At least, those were the reasons that he was ready to admit to himself.
"Oh, do tell, Admiral. What's troubling your mind?" Roslin inquired.
He was about to reply, but then he stopped. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to burden her with some of his theories. On the other hand, "I don't think the Terrans have lied to us."
There was a long moment of silence. He could see that the president was thinking about how to respond. "I see. All right then. Let's assume that you're right and that the Terrans weren't lying. My next question to you is, do you think that they told us what they told us out of ignorance, or that what they told us is the truth?"
"The truth."
"I see. Do you understand what that means, Admiral."
"I think I do."
"Well, I think you don't. Not completely anyway. Admiral, if what they've told us is the truth, then many of our beliefs are wrong."
"I have been struggling with it myself, Madam President. It's not easy to discard millennia-old beliefs. However, this free time, without anyone trying to kill us, has allowed me to ask myself a tough question. Does the truth change based on how many of our beliefs were wrong or how difficult it would be for us to admit that we were wrong?"
"You're right. I'm not sure if you reflecting so much is a good thing either. Nevertheless, I have to admit that I've asked myself similar questions in recent days. After everything we saw, it is difficult not to have doubts about our belief that life began on Kobol."
"Yes, especially after Cain found those humans on that planet that knew nothing about Kobol or us."
"Labeling the Terrans as lairs might have been rash, yet, I find their unwillingness to help us very disturbing. Them even thinking of siding with the Cylons is..."
"Are they?"
"Are they what?"
"Are they thinking of siding with the Cylons?"
"From what they've told me, they very well could be."
"I don't think so. The Terrans' actions and their deceptive way in which they answered to you show me that they are unwilling to get involved in this war on any side."
"But why?"
"Why I don't know. There could be many reasons. We know nothing about them. From what we know, they could have only one ship. Or they could be embroiled in a war of their own, against some other race. We saw how they immediately attacked the pyramidal ship, the instant they appeared. It is possible that those two races are fighting a war and that the Terrans have no asset available to help us in our misfortune. We saw how much more powerful the pyramidal ship was than ours, and even the Terran ship didn't go through the encounter unscathed."
"You think that they are at war with another race? An enemy more terrifying than the Cylons?"
"I don't know, but it is possible. If that's true, they might be unable to help. It could also explain why they evaded from giving you a straight answer."
"Why not simply tell us that they have bigger fish to fry?"
"That's one of the questions that eluded me for a long time. The only thing I was able to come up with was that, by telling us that they are at war, they would also have told us that there are other races in the galaxy and that some of those races are hostile. Instead, they half lied, telling you that they couldn't decide on which side, if any, to side on. It could still be true, but somehow I'm convinced that my first conjecture is the correct one."
"Why? Why would that be more plausible?"
"Because, frankly, telling you that they don't know on which side to side on after they stopped the Cylons from blasting the Colonies into extinction, doesn't make much sense. If they decide to side with the Cylons, they would be forced to do the same thing they have prevented, which is genocide. They must know that. Also, the moment the pyramidal ship attacked us, the Terrans miraculously appeared to save us. That's not the action of someone who has ill intentions towards you. That's not even the action of someone indifferent to what happens to you. If they didn't care, they could have left the pyramidal ship to destroy us. Instead, they rushed into battle, with the possibility of perishing."
"It does seem that their actions are contradicting what they are saying. Not to mention the fact that, from the words of Thor, they were the ones who told them not to attack us."
"Yes, but keep in mind that Thor also told us to punish those responsible for the unprovoked and, as he said, cowardly attack on the Terran ship. We have not done that. Cain has been acquitted, and I'm not convinced the Asgard will take temporary insanity as a good enough reason for not having punished Cain."
"You think there could be a reprisal for not having punished her?"
"I don't know. If you were in their position, more powerful than anything we've ever seen and clearly in the right on this occasion, would you let the matter drop even though we haven't done what they've asked of us?" Adama replied. "I think that the best we can hope for is for them not to take any action against us, but if we ever meet again, you can be assured that their stand towards us will be influenced by how we dealt, or rather how we haven't dealt, with Cain. I don't think they'll contemplate allying with us any time soon, the same as the Terrans won't. Not after what we did to them while they were only trying to save us. Also, my gut feeling tells me that Thor is not human."
"Not human? Why do you think he isn't?"
"The way he talked, and the way his ship looked. The same can be applied to the pyramidal ship. I don't think that a human would ever build a space ship in the form of a pyramid."
"What's wrong with a pyramid? As far as I understand it, a space ship can be constructed in whatever way someone wants it to be constructed, with no penalty whatsoever. There's no attrition with air in space. A ship doesn't have to worry about aerodynamics."
"It doesn't, but in battle, it's always best to have a ship's configuration that favors one side more than others. You always want to bring as many guns as you can on an opponent. A ship that has all four sides identical prevents you from achieving that goal. Our ships favor our broadsides, while the Terrans favor the front side of their ships, probably because of the ship's high maneuverability and its ability to quickly turn for a frontal assault."
"So, in your opinion, the Pyramidal and the Asgard ship were both alien?"
"Yes. In my opinion, they were."
"That's frightening, Admiral. In that case, we know of at least two more races that have no commonalities with humans whatsoever, in addition to the Cylons. We don't know how they think, what they want, or how they will react in a certain situation. We have no base for comparison."
"Exactly what worries me," Adama replied. "The good Doctor finished a detailed examination of the dead pilot we found in the recovered alien craft. The pilot's DNA is different from ours by about 0.8 percent, and that's not a negligible difference; certainly not one that can be attributed to living in a different environment alone. On the other hand, the humans on the planet Cain discovered have a minute deviation in their DNA when compared to us, which can be attributed to having spent thousands of years on a different planet. The most puzzling is the creature found in the belly of the pilot. It is a life form that we've never seen before, but the complexity of its DNA suggests at least some form of intelligence."
"Interesting. I'm not a biologist by any stretch of the term, but wouldn't that also suggest that both pilot and creature were in a symbiotic relationship?"
"The Doctor is no expert either, but he also thinks there must be some mutual benefit. The pilot and the creature must somehow benefit from their strange arrangement."
"Usually, such benefit in nature must be a simple one; one that can easily be understood. Like the creature receiving protection by living in the pilot's belly. Maybe even nutrition in some way. But what's the benefit for the host of such a creature?"
"I don't know, and the doctor doesn't know either. What he was able to understand from the pilot's examination is that there's a possibility of the two of them exchanging fluids. But to know more, he needs live specimens of both the creature and host."
"Well, if we had a live specimen of the human host, we wouldn't need the doctor to do experiments. We could ask the host, couldn't we?"
"That's true," Adama replied, slightly taken aback. He hadn't thought about that.
"Well, I don't think that this discussion will give us any new insight in any of the things we've seen on our voyage thus far," the President concluded.
"No, it won't. However, I suggest that we proceed more openmindedly about what we know about our galaxy and its inhabitants, especially if we come across another race. We are nearing the Nebula that should give us the needed bearing on where Earth is, and we are thousands of light-years from home. We are on our own, but our actions could influence how these new races perceive us as a race. A wrong step could have repercussions not only for us but for our people back home as well." Adama wished he knew more about the state of affairs in the Cyrannus System. He didn't even know if they were all still alive, who was in charge of the Colonies or how the war was progressing. He had to admit to himself that the uneventful period of their journey was also troubling him deeply. Why hadn't the Cylons attacked the Expeditionary Fleet even once in these past few weeks? Was it because the war in the Cyrannus System had forced them to return, in which case it would suggest that the Colonials were winning the war, or was there some other reason for these quiet times? Had maybe the Colonials lost the battle and, as a consequence, lost interest in a small Expeditionary Fleet?
He had a lot of questions, but very little insight into what the answers might be.
"When are we going to reach the nebula?" the President asked.
"Five more jumps. We are one hundred light-years away." As he finished the sentence, Adama heard a beeping sound coming from the Dradis. "Mr. Gaeta, what do we have."
"I'm not certain, Admiral," Gaeta replied, clearly puzzled. "For a moment, the sensors detected a new contact, eighty kilometers on our starboard side, but it disappeared almost immediately."
"Mr. Gaeta, please run a diagnostic on our sensor array. I don't like having sensor ghosts when there are so many races gunning for us," Adama replied. No way a ship could come so close to the Galactica without being detected, and then vanish in an instant. "Dee, please inform the fleet that we will be jumping in ten minutes from now."
The Fleet was getting ready for yet another jump that would get them closer to the Nebula, and with that, closer to finally finding Earth. They would jump in ten minutes, unaware that indeed there was a ship standing next to them.
They'd also never learn for how long and loud Pendergast had cursed when the cloak failed for a brief moment while they were beaming the planned package to Malcolm.
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