Chapter Seven
Conversations with a Cylon Lord

Spectre's image faded to be replaced almost immediately with the image of a supremely bizarre, three lobed mockery of an organic being. Its five sets of optical sensors were dark red and pulsating slowly. Behind it were six Imperial guards, at first appearing similar to the prisoner they were holding, but upon closer observation they appeared subtly different. Unlike that silver plated Cylon these were of a dark golden hue with dual rotating eyes. They radiated power and a malevolence that actually frightened Picard and the others watching the image. The heavy weapons in their possession reminded Picard and the crew of small cannons able to punch holes through the hull of the Enterprise with ease. There were also several Cylons that looked similar to Spectre, attempting to generate an appearance of being simple administrators, and failing miserably. But the dark golden warriors were riveting. Every single one of them looked threatening.

Those are his personal guards, Picard realized. This entire setup is for our benefit, a form of intimidation. They knew we wanted to talk. The overall vision was impressive and it would have worked on someone else. But he'd been tortured by the Cardassians, assimilated by the Borg and strung out to dry by his own guilt after Wolf three-five-nine. Next to that, few things truly intimidated him anymore. And that was one of the things that frightened him most.

"I am the Imperium Supreme," the Leader said, its voice portraying both royal authority and sinister intent simultaneously. "Speak human."

Adama and the other Colonials hissed upon hearing the voice of their hated enemy.

Meanwhile, Picard himself bristled slightly at the leader's insolent tone. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship Enterprise and I represent a league of worlds whose territory your ship has violated," he stated plainly. "You have attacked and damaged a Federation starship and killed many members of that crew. You also damaged and destroyed several non-combatant starships carrying civilians inside Federation territory during the same altercation. This could well be interpreted as an act of war. However it is my wish that we settle this before it escalates into a situation that we would both regret."

"Human," it began, sounding as though it had decided to grant some magnanimous boon. "For over a thousand of your years we have been at war with the Colonial humans in the Beta quadrant as they continually mistreated and violated the will of the Cylon race. We won the war and now in our galaxy, we are supreme. There is absolute peace among the races guided by our benevolent rule."

"Did the Colonials tell you," it continued, "how they destroyed the planet Carillon along with an entire species called the Ovions simply because they wished to escape us? Did the Colonials tell you how they abandoned over thirty smaller fleets containing their own people in order to simply escape? Did they tell you of the rules of war, that the loser of said war should be exterminated in order that peace would prevail?"


By the intonations in his voice, the entire crew and the other spectators immediately understood that this alien was enjoying giving this little history lesson to the unworthy. The intent was to incite fear. But it didn't produce fear as it intended but it did produce disgust - and hatred, galvanizing and wedding the Federation to Colonials in ways the Supreme Leader of the Cylon race never intended.

"What other fleets?" demanded a shocked Adama. Until this moment neither he nor his people had imagined that others had attempted-and actually succeeded!-in getting away from the holocaust that ensued just after the defeat.

"Yes, Adama, " it responded in that hated voice. "Several fleets that never rendezvous with your Galactica coordinates, in time, were exterminated. They ranged from a three-ship convoy to one of over six hundred. The Alliance expended almost two yahrens to eliminate them all. It took much time and effort to track them down, with resources, I might add, that took our full attention away from you. We were fortunate to eliminate ninety-eight percent of the human fleet, over twenty three hundred ships scattered throughout the former Colonial territories. Now, we the Cylon people are finally putting an end to the war by the extermination of the life form known as man, so that peace may prevail."

The Colonials bristled at the comments but said nothing. But the guilt and horror of what was told them hit with the same impact an asteroid would, hitting a small moon. Never had they imagined that almost an additional two thousand ships had escaped the Cylon extermination net! And none of those who had attempted to flee survived.

Only them.

"This costly and terrible war will end only when you give the Colonials and the Battlestars Galactica and Pegasus over to us along with the heads of its officers and the criminal Adama. And of course the three hundred thousand fleet members will be turned over to us," it added.

"This is a small price to pay when considered against the billions that will cease to function if there is war among us. We also claim the heads of the crew of the Okada and the Khe Sahn as recompense for the damage they have perpetrated against my Basestar. Do this and there will be no war between our people. The species called man in the Alpha quadrant will live in peace with the Cylon people. This is a perfectly honorable agreement. Accept it and live in peace."

Everyone who heard the Imperium Supreme were horrified and disgusted, the Colonial representatives because it was possible that these Federation people might actually consider this agreement; the Federation representatives were disgusted that this proposal was even made.

Picard's face was flushed as he prepared his answer. "Neither of those proposals are acceptable," he said simply. "We will not give them over to you and we will not sacrifice our people for your appeasement. If you choose to try to take them by force we will resist you with everything we have. Please take that into consideration," he said coldly.

"Then take this into consideration, Captain Picard," it retorted. "Our war will be, of course, extended to you. The entire point of the war with humans was for the elimination of the life form known as man. By your attitude you have proven yourselves blood of their blood. You are they and they are you. I must assume this war will now continue until we have achieved our goal." The screen faded to black.

Next to Picard, President Adama was stunned, not only by the words, but because he'd recognized that hated voice. "Count Iblis," he said quietly, barely wishing to voice that vile name.

Apollo eased next to him, equally stunned. "Father isn't that..."

"Yes." Adama realized the implications immediately.

"Does that mean that he somehow programmed the Cylon Imperious Leader so long ago?"

"I don't know," his father replied. "But it makes so much sense now. And maybe even more so now because that may explain the changes in our old enemy."

Beside them Captain Picard was frowning. It was clear to him and everyone else who monitored the conversation that the Supreme Imperium wanted this war. He half- way suspected this exchange would end this way. But the response of the Colonials towards their enemy surprised him slightly as he realized that they'd never seen the face of their adversary before. But even more so was the fact they seemed to recognize the voice moreso than the actual face of the enemy. "Who is this Count Iblis?" Picard said interrupting them.

"An extremely powerful, ancient being, far more advanced than anything we could imagine. From an evolutionary standpoint, he is as far above us as we are above bacteria. We came in conflict with him. To put it simply," Apollo continued, "he lost and promised revenge upon us many yahrens past. I've never heard the Imperious Leader much less this Supreme Imperium speak before, but the voice is unmistakable. I believe his hand is in this entire situation."

"Well, I heard him, the Imperious Leader, I mean once," Starbuck said. "But I didn't make the connection, even though now it's obvious."

"You could call him the Devil." Starbuck looked at Picard and the others trying to gauge their reactions. Speaking of devils to those who never experienced them seemed ludicrous and he was weary. But they had to know what this creature was, just in case. He was surprised when the Federation didn't react with skepticism.

"We've had our own devils also." Dr. Beverley Crusher whispered, speaking for the first time. "Actually, more like a constant pain in the butt," she said unconsciously rubbing her hip area for emphasis. Starbuck forced himself to avert his eyes.

"Q," Riker said.

"What's a Q?"

"Another one of those so-called omnipotent beings that just loves to play with us mere mortals."

"Q," Picard echoed. "He's playing games with us again." He actually sounded disappointed.

"Or maybe not," Beverley replied. "I really think he was trying to warn us. We all saw how he was this time," she said her mind drifting back to that previous meeting. "I don't think this was one of his games."

"But at this point it really doesn't matter," Riker said. He looked at the Colonials. "Is it true about the planet Carillon? Did you destroy the planet? And what about those other ships? You just left them?"

"Directly no, indirectly yes," Apollo snarled. "We had no clue concerning the others. And I don't like the implication in your voice, Commander Riker. You weren't there. You don't know what the situation was."

"You're right," Riker countered. "We don't know and that's the point. That's why I'm asking the question. I would like to know exactly what happened."

"I'll tell the story," Starbuck said jumping in, half stunned and half-amused that he, not Apollo was the one playing the mediator instead of being the one about to place his foot in his mouth. "Short version. After we lost the war we fled to Carillon for fuel extracted from a mineral called tylium. Obviously, we were going on a long, long trip. Once there, we found a casino full of humans and other aliens who had no idea what had just happened to the colony worlds. What was worse was that many of our people wanted to stay there and enjoy themselves. They were acting like nothing had even happened. Why, I don't know," he said totally perplexed about that, even after all these years.

"I've come to the conclusion," President Adama continued, "that most of our people never believed that we actually were in a wartime situation and that we faced extinction. The reality of it all never really touched them. The concept of extinction was simply too alien a concept for our people to accept."

"There have been many cases like this," Deanna added quickly. "On Earth, the eastern European Jewish population during the mid-nineteen hundreds, largely ignored the events around them, until a maniac called Hitler systematically exterminated a very large portion of their population. Many of them truly couldn't believe that someone could truly do things like that to them. Your people were well-sheltered, protected. For the most part the Cylons were most considered as an abstraction, something that existed far, far away. When that abstraction became a horrifying reality, most people still couldn't comprehend the realness of it all. Like so many others in our quadrant, it was disconcerting to look truth in the face."

Yes, probably true Starbuck thought. When he had time, he'd contemplate those words from that oh-so beautiful woman. "Anyway, we found that the native Ovions were using the casino as a front for the Cylons. They were using our people as a living food source for their young! Apollo and I, and Boxey and our chief medic Cassiopeia, who we saved from the feeding chambers, got into a major firefight with the Cylons in the caves below and ignited the tylium deposits. The chain reaction eventually destroyed the planet. We lost so many, many people down there. By the way." He added, 'the Cylons were laying in wait for us. But we fought our way out. Details later if you need it, Commander Riker," Starbuck added sarcastically.

"They have been tracking and harassing us ever since," Apollo added. "We couldn't stop, or settle down or even make serious long term contact with other races because no one we encountered had the capability to withstand a Cylon attack. They almost caught us several times but we always escaped. Sometimes we would have a couple of yahrens peace. That's how we had time to develop some of the offensive fighters to aid in our defenses. But now..."

"Now they're stronger than ever and we don't know why," Sire Forsen finished. "Their technology is a quantum leap over anything we've previously encountered.

"Well, they've made their intentions quite clear," Picard said quietly. "The question is what are going to do about them and you? What is it that you want?" he asked with an official aire. Plainly it was a signal for the Colonials to 'officially' ask for asylum.

President Adama turned to Picard and the other officers in the conference room , took a breath and started. "Well, we, the remnant of the Twelve colonies, original descendents of the planet Kobol, formally ask for protection of and sanctuary in the territories of the Federation of Planets. We request that you take us in as refugees and it is our hope that we will be allowed to settle on a planet within protected Federation Territory or that we be allowed to relocate to Earth, the home of our human brethren. I understand the political implications of these actions and the problems we bring, but I hope we can achieve a goal of protection for all concerned against both our enemies and yours."

"Your proposal will be recorded and sent to the Federation for review," Picard announced formally. "I don't foresee a problem." Then he smiled as he spoke. "Frankly at this point, we have refugees relocating everywhere. The war has upset many lives and many inhabitable planets within the Federation are being colonized as a result. Your three hundred thousand people should not present a problem and you'll have the choice of going just about anywhere you wish. First however, we need to remove you and your people from this area."

His eyes became distant as he continued. "I have found that the machine mentality never forgets," he said as his crew watched him carefully, understanding the import of his words. "And, it will find some way to fulfill its function even if it's illogical, one way or the other."
***

Starbuck, Apollo and many, many others were stunned into silence at the news that Boomer had died onboard the Khe Sahn. Another loss of a precious friend that had been with them from the beginning of the epic journey that they had almost completed was Athena's, Apollo's younger sister, comment. The total loss of lives including crewmembers of the Okada exceeded fifteen thousand people. Instead of a time for celebration it would be a time for mourning. Starbuck, using the Enterprise's transporter (something he'd swore he'd never do again about two centars earlier), beamed over to the Khe Sahn to meet up with Cassiopeia in sickbay. They had been close at one time and they still were but he waited to long, played with commitments to fast, to loose and the moment passed them by. It was his fault and he knew it and in realizing this he felt the guilt at night when his dreams tried to justify his actions. The moment had indeed passed them by, but his heart hadn't truly accepted it. Especially now, when she was so close that he could smell her perfume. He remembered when the simple sound of her voice would almost send him over the edge. But now, he pushed those memories back as he saw the tears in her dark brown eyes. She needed him now, needed his strength for support.

"We were so close," she whispered. "We could have saved him if we could have gotten to him sooner. The equipment here!" The doctors and sickbay on the Khe Sahn was magnificent and miracles could be performed here but Boomer had been beyond even their advanced capabilities. "We saved so many. But not him, not him or the others."

"I'll miss him," he whispered also. "He was my," he stop, correcting himself. "He was our friend. Cassie was crying and that part of him that never let go simply snapped. Before he realized it he'd grabbed her and held on like nothing he'd ever held before. "He will be remembered and little Boomer and Therese will want for nothing." That sounded so fracken formal he thought.

"Starbuck, is that all you can think of to say?" Her voice was full of bitterness. The confused look on Starbuck's face confirmed to her that he had no clue as to what she trying to convey to her great and almighty warrior. "Why are you even here, Starbuck?" Certainly, it wasn't for me," she said pushing him away. "You always come trying to save me, trying to comfort me. And you always manage to do that. Then when I think there's hope for the two of us, you leave."

"Cassie, I..."

"Starbuck," she whispered. "As a warrior you're always there to save me. The Colonial service trained you well. But when I needed you as a man, you ran like a scared daggit. What is your problem?" The woman was crying now and it had very little to do with the death of Boomer and everything to do with Starbuck. "We're both older, matured adults now and our whole lives together has come to nothing. Why did I waste time my time with you? Why did you make me waste my time loving you?" Quickly she turned towards another patients, trying to keep the tears from overwhelming her.

"Look," he retorted, "what could I do? Every time I went on a mission, it could have been my last. I didn't want to Seal with you one day and leave you a widow the next."

'Liar," the blond medic responded matter-of-factly. "Everyone else Sealed, including Boomer and Deitra and you know how they fought with each other for yahrens. But they had two kids and a wonderful life," she said as the tears began flowing again. "But we have nothing. And we both know why, don't we? I should have stayed away from you!"

The truth was, he enjoyed his freedom and being Sealed meant responsibility...and the realization that he was growing older now, passing the baton to the next generation. He wasn't ready for that yet. "Woman, what are you talking about?" he said, feeling very uncomfortable about where this conversation was going.

"The Great Starbuck never wanted to be Sealed to a Socialator. I was always good enough to be around but never good enough to be with."

"OH, PLEASE!" he screamed, causing several patients and doctors to look at him disapprovingly. "My mind never even when that direction," he snarled, quieter this time.

"Starbuck, I love you so much," she said. "But you're always searching for the perfect woman and I simply don't fit that in that equation. And I guess I never will," she added, plunging the knife in as much as possible. I'm tired of all these games you play. Please stay away."

Enraged-and terrified, he stormed out of sickbay, leaning on the nearest bulkhead he found. Inside he was raging. Talk about guilt trips, his mind screamed. What has she done to me? What am I going to do now? More importantly, what should I do?

A few moments later, he went back into sickbay and dragged her out towards someplace quieter. This wasn't over yet. He intended to get in the last word here. Even if it rose up and implanted it's teeth deep into his butt.
***

Onboard the Enterprise-E, Apollo and his father found Commander Sheba in Ten-forward. Just a touch earlier, both men had talked with the crew of the Okada, and the Hortas, thanking the rock creatures and expressing sorrow to the crew for the loss of their captain and other crew members. She almost didn't recognize them as she continually stared out the window towards the Pegasus. It was stabilized now and several ugly gashes had temporary seals, but still, the horrendous damage was very evident. Four inertia dampeners were now attached to the stern in preparation for towing. The Okada was rapidly moving off into the distance, being tractored by another frigate to Starbase thirty-two.

Silently, they stood behind her, saying nothing.

"I couldn't stop it," she said finally breaking the silence after more than a half centar. "I allowed my fathers' ship to be destroyed. I killed all those people. I got Boomer killed."

"No," her husband responded. "We couldn't stop the Cylons. They're more powerful than we could have imagined. But it wasn't our time to die. You, no we," he corrected, "did what we could. And we found the earth people. And that counts for a lot."

"But my ship is gone, my people dead," she said. Her voice sounded like the echo of an open grave. "I can't go back. How can I face them? I can't do that."

"Sheba," Apollo said softly. "The Pegasus survived. You know that." Then he turned somber as he continued speaking. The despair in his voice was evident enough to give his wife pause. "We discovered that there were more than two thousand other ships that tried to make the rendezvous with the Galactica. I don't think any of them made it to safety. If we had only waited a little longer!"

Sheba looked at him. "I didn't know." Instantly her concern transferred itself from herself to her loved ones. "There was no way you could have known. And even if you did, you couldn't have done anything to help them."

"We were responsible for them," her husband said despairingly.

"But you and the others are alive," someone said from behind, who begun offering them all some type of chocolate flavored, sparking nectar. "And ultimately, your sacrifices and determination have brought you and your charges to safety," she continued. "If you really think about it, you shouldn't be here at all."

Maybe these people didn't fully understand proper protocol when it came to private conversations. "Who are you?" Adama asked of this dark skinned woman who had so rudely interrupted this most private of moments.

"My name's Guinan and I'm the temporary Bartender here," she answered with a matter-of fact smile.

"I'm sorry. This is a private conversation," he said. He tried to be polite but he was in no mood for a servitor to horn in on this most delicate of conversations at this most delicate of times.

"Of course, it's private," she answered, ignoring the hint. "That's why you're all so miserable on the eve of the greatest experience in your life. What you need is a different perspective," she said.

"Think about it. You've brought a new war to the Federation. And these strangers," she said pointing to captain Picard and Commander Riker who were just entering the room, "these people have embraced you and will do everything in their power to protect you. They don't know you yet, but they're about to put their lives on the line for you people. That, in itself, gives you an idea as to how they are and what they stand for."

"Some of them have a strange way of showing it," he muttered. Apollo, still smarting from the earlier talks, looked at Riker. Riker returned the gaze with a smile that seemed to indicate that there was and had never been a problem.

"It was his way of feeling you out, finding out just where you stood." Guinan said. "After all, at this very moment, no one group really knows the other, yet."

"Wait a minute," Apollo snapped. "How did you know what happened?"

"I'm a bartender. That's what I do," she answered, smiling even more.

There was something about this woman, they all realized at once. She may be pretending to be a servitor but was more likely security.

"What else do you know, Guinan?" Apollo said, trying to feel her out. The instant he said that he winced. He had been as subtle as a Cylon trying to sing and dance.

"That depends on whom I'm talking to," she said sweetly. "I've heard about your people and I can relate to the experiences you've had very easily."

"I'm sorry, you have no idea what we've gone through," President Adam said, his eyes glazing as he remembered all the pain and sorrow of the past twenty yahrens.

Captain Picard and Riker came over and joined the impromptu conversation. Both men were silent, learning years ago not to interrupt Guinan when she was in 'teaching' mode. Riker simply grabbed one of the chocolate drinks, slurped some down loudly and smiled innocently at Apollo. His eyes almost seemed to say I'm sorry, but I had to know. At the same time there was something defiant about him. He struck Apollo as a man completely used to ordering others around and having them do it.

Well, so was he.

"Actually, you've had it good, relatively speaking, Mr. President," she countered. Many of your people are still alive after you ordeal and your culture is still relatively stable. I imagine that you believed that once you found Earth, your problems would be solved. Well, I suggest that you change that belief."

"Listen,' she continued, oblivious to their withering stares. "What's left of my people are scattered across this galaxy with very little hope of getting back together. Our enemies, here we call them the Borg, tore through our system and there was little to nothing left of my people when they moved on. They make the Cylon Empire, as you've known them, look puny by comparison. As I've said before, you people have had it easily, relatively speaking. At least they had the opportunity to simply die and not suffer a existence of a soulless automation."

"Okay," Apollo said frustrated. This, this bartender actually intimidated him and for the life of him he couldn't understand why. "Everybody here keeps mentioning the Borg. Just who are these Borg everyone seems to talk about?"

"They're our analog to your Cylons, but worse." Picard said. His looks produced some dubious stares from the Colonials. "They're cybernetic organisms, part organic, part machine which exists as a hive mind. They are very, very advanced. Their purpose is to assimilate cultures into their collective. They take everything, the mind, the body, and the technology. You are forced to become part of them. Your own wishes are irrelevant, so to speak," he said smiling grimly at his private joke. "Their ships are mostly cubed and oval shaped and they sweep through entire systems destroying everything in their paths. We've fought them on several occasions, each time just barely defeating them. They even attempted time travel to change the history of the Federation. They are a plague on our galaxy - a plague that needs to be stamped out.

Picard had a haunted look that the Colonials had seen far too many times. The fight between him and the Borg was very, very personal. Why? It didn't matter because they understood and could respect those feelings. These Borg were obviously something they were glad they hadn't run into during their travels. "Given time, they adapt to all offensive and defensive weapons and tactics," Riker continued. "They respect no one, but those who are more powerful than they are and even then... Everyone else are considered something they can consume."

"Maybe they'll consume the Cylons," Sheba said half seriously.

"Maybe," Riker commented. The thought of the Borg assimilating anybody disturbed him. Besides they've consumed enough already. "But nothing is ever that easy."

"Tell me about it."

Everyone sat down in one of the booths Guinan had guided them to. It was quiet and isolated-as much as a room filled with people watching everything you did could be- and the seats were comfortable. Once seated, Guinan quickly moved on to her other customers.

"I didn't know that humans had spread so far in the galaxy, Adama said to Picard. I'm amazed that there are so many human colonies in this section of space. Were you able to find and help Guinan's people?"

"Yes, rather her people found us" Picard answered. "But Guinan isn't human." President Adama, Apollo's and Sheba stunned expressions made him smile slightly. "Not everyone here is of human stock."

Sheba was beginning to pull out of her depression, slightly. She suspected that it had something to do with this dark colored drink she kept ingesting. And the conversation. "Then what is she? She looks human."

Yes, curiosity was getting the better of her, Apollo noted. Good.

"Her species is El-Aurian," Riker responded. "She's from a very ancient race whose people cruised the stars while my people were still trying learn how to write."

"I just can't believe this," she responded. "This is so much to take in."

"Yes, it can be a little over whelming," he said. "I have someone I'd like for you to meet. Her name is Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troy." Then he turned to Apollo. "Earlier, I needed to know where you were coming from."

"I understand," he answered quietly. "By that same token, I need to know where you and your Federation are coming from. My people are important and I have no intention of having them swallowed up by some alien culture, human or not. Everything I've studied about you seems to be pretty good but, I have to be sure also before we commit."

"I understand and I approve of your caution. It's exactly what I'd do if I were in your situation. What do you need to know?"

"What was the fight in the conference room about between you," he asked pointing to Picard, "and Captain Nashta about?"

Picard chose to answer, his face slightly flushed. "During the recent Dominion war his planet, Betazed was attacked and overran by Jem'Hadar shock troopers. The damage to the people and the planet itself, was horrendous. Now, there are many of those who believe that the Federation's defensive only posture is out of date and that we should take a more proactive stance. This is something that will have to be addressed one day very soon."

"I can see both parts of the argument, Captain Picard," President Adama said. "But there is another question also, one of a few thousand I suspect from both sides. Your technology. How did it become so advanced?"

Picard smiled slightly as he began the dissertation. "The Federation has an open communications system. Everyone has free access to scientific theories and practical applications and are free to expound on them. We encourage this within the proper limits, because we have found that freedom of information enhances the quality of life as opposed to restricting it. For example, we developed warp drive independent of the Vulcans but with collaboration, we continually improved the drive mechanics. Time warp factors were broken and true warp drive, without the constraints of temporal distortion, was developed. Now we're working on transwarp instability and something new called quantum slipstream technologies. Without input from scientists from all over the Federation and beyond, progress would be much slower. But because of this blending of the minds, our technical advances and quality of life has grown very quickly."

"Now, I am curious," Picard, said, looking at his awed visitors. "What were the Ovions like?"

"They were insectoid creatures run by a queen. Very intelligent and in some respects warlike, but only with themselves as far as we know. According to some of the survivors we picked up, there was a rumor that the old queen had been deposed. Maybe she had wanted to resist the Cylons but got overruled, we'll never be sure." As Apollo continued with is description both Riker and Picard went into a state of shock.

"Barash," Riker whispered. It was so clear. All those unknown questions.

"Barash?"

"Your description is very similar to a lone survivor we found a few years back. Your story fills several gaps we've had concerning him quite well."

The 'survivor' had played himself off as Riker's future son, Jean-Luc. It almost worked but the truth came out. It was just a lonely boy-insectoid male- using holographic technology so that simply put, he wouldn't spend his life alone.

"I need to go back to my ship," Sheba said abruptly. "Excuse me." She got up and prepared to leave, as did Apollo. It did seem as though she had a little of the burden lifted from her. Hopefully Deanna or one of the other counselors could help if she so chose to go outside her own people for someone to talk to.

The President elected to stay to continue his talks with the Starfleet officers.

"Mr. President," Picard said with Riker nodding in agreement. "I'd like to know more about these Cylons and what we can expect."

Yes. I think that's wise."


The conversation, eventually joined by others lasted for hours. Of particular interest was the military logic of the Colonials during the thousand-year war. Only five Battlestars were known to be operational at the time of the Peace Conference. Evidently the Colonial government relied so heavily on those massive vessels that no other support ships were commissioned, which struck the Federation officers and crew as extremely odd, bordering towards suicidal. They used the word 'odd' quite a bit as they were being truly polite here. True, the Vipers made up a significant portion of the defenses but what in God's name were they thinking, not to at least have some sort of cruiser or destroyer-class ships even if only as some kind of backup? At the very least those ships would have provided some form of protection for the immediate planetary systems.

Adama explained Colonial policies of the time. The military commission felt that the Battlestar compliment was sufficient to war off any Cylon attack, as they'd previously done for so many yahrens. Most important to the coin counters, was the cost of any ships designed larger than the Viper. The Viper was an all purpose vehicle, proven time and time again to be more than adequate against any Cylon class ships smaller than the Basestar. In addition, the Cylons were notoriously consistent in attack strategy and had no imagination whatsoever in ship design, so in essence the commission responded to Cylon stagnation by remaining stagnant themselves. And of course, constant victories made the government complacent. To the population and yes, even the Government officials, the war was an abstract concept, out of sight and out of mind- except to those fighting and dying by fire in the depths of space. But after the Cylons defeated an entire Battlestar fleet, in which the Pegasus unknowingly had survived, the President became obsessed with the peace plan offered by Commander Baltar. That was the first major defeat in living memory and it had a profound effect on the President and the Council. It was widely believed that the President's growing fears of the Cylons along with the Council of Twelve pushed him to accept this dubious peace initiative. The Council's motives were unclear but what is known is that they purposely ignored the danger to the Colonies mostly because of monetary concerns and their desires for remaining in and maintaining their own personal power bases. The same thing happened on Carillon as the new leadership tried to settle on that pleasure planet, offering the Cylons a new peace plan only days after the slaughter of over ninety-nine percent of their people. Fortunately, Adama was able to re-adjust that decision. But it had been an ongoing fight for the next twenty-two yahrens.


Much later the two men excused themselves and now sat comfortably in Picard's Ready room. It was a much more relaxed area as compared to the old Enterprise-D and now Picard's new sense of self-awareness helped the general décor of his private room also.

"Please call me Adama," he said once again. "I am so sick of being called Mister President that it makes me want to hit that wall over there," he said pointing to the wall nearest to Picard's cloned copies of his beloved fish lost when the Enterprise-D crashed landed. "I am so tired of having the responsibility of protecting the remains of my civilization from our enemies. At the same time, I'm not ready to give it up just yet. I guess I need to see the completion of those last hundred metrons," he said. "I thank God that I have seen my come to a safe harbor among our brethren. For the last few yahrens, the fleet has been under less stress since the Pegasus found and re-united with us. But almost immediately, our troubles resumed. Being isolated from us for so long, it was in far worse shape than the Galactica ever was."

"In an earlier conflict with the Cylons, Commander Cain had evacuated the majority of the crew of the Pegasus to our fleet. We all escaped that day but, his Battlestar was poorly undermanned and repairs were at a minimum, keeping the ship barely functional. There was a fire shortly after they returned onboard our sister ship during another encounter with the Cylons, and Commander Cain was seriously injured."

"I understand," Picard said. He understood that Adama needed to talk, and as for himself, he was content to sit back and listen. This would have been the first time Adama and his people were able to relax off ship. "Once she was back you were able to restore her and effectively double your defensive capabilities. But you still had tremendous obstacles to overcome."

"Yes," Adama responded. His eyes were red and teary from uncounted memories that etched every line in his face. But in his eyes there was the glimmer of unbridled pride as well. "During the 'dark flight', as my people are beginning to call it, we had to retool our ships, some of which barely obtained functional FLT drives. The Cylons were constantly nipping at us and we couldn't move faster than a three-legged daggit or as you call it 'dog'. That was our first priority."

The translation program still used certain colonial terms, Picard noticed. But now, it was so much better.

"Then," Adama continued, "we developed small cruiser-class ships comprised of an engine, a few navigational aids and a couple of weapons systems. They were truly horrible. Everyone was afraid to fly in those things, but the fleet was encouraged and over a period of several of your years we improved and modified those ships into a formidable fighting force equal in battle to anything the Cylons could throw against us. With yahrens between Cylon detection, we improved ourselves immeasurably. But we were never strong enough to make a stand. The Okada was a godsend. These new Cylons could have destroyed us easily, but when they attacked your Federation vessel we knew that we couldn't stand by and do nothing."

"That's why we ordered our ships to come to the aid of the Okada. We had to first give in the hopes that your people would understand. We needed to build a bridge of trust while at the same time adding new enemies to your list. And in the final analysis, it was the only thing that we could do and maintain our humanity. It's all we have left and that I will never abandon to the Cylons."

"I understand Adama," Picard responded as he took another sip of tea, savoring the taste as though he'd never tasked it before. "In the final analysis, that's why the Okada and the Khe Sahn came to the aid of strangers."

"Not strangers, brethren," he corrected. "At the same time, we've brought a plague upon you. I have no idea how the Cylons have gotten so strong, but I do know that they will never rest until humanity in all its forms are extinguished."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." He took another sip of tea and put the cup down. "There are always options," Picard said. "It's just a matter of finding them."

"Captain," Adama responded soberly. "It is my hope that those options present themselves quickly. However don't allow your desire for peace come at a price that
will much too high to bare."

"Don't misunderstand me, Mr. President...Adama," he said, correcting himself. "We understand that freedom comes with a price. You've read our history, our war against the Dominion, our continuing war against the Borg. Those events have forced us to become more vigilant. Because of our encounters with the Borg our policies have changed. The Federation will do what ever is necessary to aid a peaceful resolution, but we're no longer as innocent as we were. We've learned for our mistakes."

The President took another sip of this extraordinary tea and looked at those strangely familiar creatures called fish. 'May we learn from all of our mistakes."