Chapter Nine
A new home
Time: Three months post arrival of the Colonial fleet
at the Neutral zone.
Captains log: Jean Luc Picard Recording: The Remnants of the Colonial are on route to their new home, the Mariposa colony. Near the edge of what is now Federation space. The colony has graciously offered their planet as a place of refuge with the intent to offer these unique people a permanent home if they so choose. The present inhabitants are a combination of clones of the original colonists who have now been re- joined some years ago by a second set of colonists whose ancestors incidentally were traveling together in the first place. Initially they wanted nothing to do with the Federation, but recently attitudes have changed and the war with the Dominion accelerated their entry. Unfortunately they are at the edge of our space and as such protection is sparse. The Galactica and its people could change all this and the Mariposans seemed more than pleased with this possibility.
Also the Mariposans have developed a massive trade association with Ligon II, one of the first planets we visited in the Enterprise -D. I still remember Tasha Yar's fight with Yareena, started by a deceitful man called Lutan, who lost everything in his bid for power. I also remember how stupid my order was to fire photon torpedoes into the atmosphere. With my anger, I could have mistakenly killed millions. It was a hard fought lesson that I have never forgotten. Sometimes, I think that I've learned that lesson too well. With their culture being so different, and my pride and ignorance we almost came to blows with them, but that was thankfully avoided and now they too have petitioned to join the Federation also. The Mariposa's culture consisted of preventing genetic drift in their people while the Ligonan's culture has such a long history that Earth has no true comparison. I am constantly amazed and gratified when such different cultures can come together as they have. The three are becoming one and with the Galactica and its people being welcomed, I only wish I could live to see the fruits of this 'marriage'. The saying that 'opposites attract' appears to have proven itself yet again.
Most of the Colonists were transported to Mariposa on Federation transports and the majority of the Colonials have begun rebuilding their lives on Mariposa. However the Galactica had to get there first and they had refused to abandon their ships that have been their only livelihood for so long. Skeleton crews manned their ships, which have finally made it to the colony planet. It could have taken seven days with warp drive but with their ships it took two months. With the Pegasus in tow to the new recently built Deep Space twenty-three, I feared that the dangers they face would have be more hazardous than we ever imagined.
Three Cylon warships trailed us but, so far have kept their distance. Therefore Starfleet is sending the Enterprise-E and the San Antonio, the T'ovar and several fleet ships back to the neutral zones to monitor the buildup by several Cylon mother ships. The Khe Sahn, Borallis, and the Klingon fleet are escorting the Colonials. In that, I have to admit that I am pleased that the Klingons have taken such an interest in these people. My only concern is that the Colonials and the klingons seem to get along almost too well. The Klingons have expressed a desire to 'purchase' the Pegasus and the Galactica is being refitted in transit with Klingon weaponry and shielding while they are, in turn, receiving 'ion' technology. They're bonding in ways that we never have and at this point I have no idea as to whether this is good or bad. But I believe that thru this 'bonding' a stronger bridge may be forged between human and Klingon. Only the future can tell.
The Colonials now have access to our cultural and all non-classified technological journals and they've attacked them with a vengeance. They were close in their own technological advances and these 'journals' have given them the edge they need to advance in their own unique ways. A few Vipers are being retrofitted with their versions of dilithium-solium drive units and Klingon pulse disruptors. Along with upgraded deflectors these ships have become very formidable. Only recently during the Dominion war has the Federation even considered using smaller fighting ships. It had been considered 'old-fashioned'. That attitude has been readjusted since we met the Jem'Hadar attack fighter. I have no doubt that the new generation of Vipers on the designing padds will equal or rival any small fighter we have today.
The Romulan ambassador was quite adamant. Under no circumstances are we to enter the neutral zone or there will be war. This is of course insane but as we read through the lines, even a lowly ensign can tell that the Romulan Empire is in dire straits. Their pride and arrogance may work against them. We may not be able to aid what is left of them if they wait too long in asking for assistance. There would be no more Romulan ale.
The Enterprise-E, the San Antonio, and the T'ovar have been diverted, answering another distress call from outlying systems with human colonies near the neutral zone. Already two have been completely obliterated and we engaged and destroyed a Cylon Hellion class warship. The Klingon civilian and military warships have been attacked. The Vulcan shipping lanes have been threatened. The Deltan Junas colony has been slaughtered.
An undeclared war has broken out.
They are hitting the fringes and people are panicking. More and more Basestars are appearing and at this point, we're unsure of where they're coming from. They seem intent on spreading terror in any way they can which makes no since because they are spreading themselves to far and making too many enemies. They seem intent on making enemies with everyone. There is a pattern here but so far it hasn't made itself plain.
Yet.
Even the Dominion forces stationed in the Alpha quadrant are on alert but so far they haven't been attacked. But now, we are obligated to watch our backs and our fronts. It is my opinion and Starfleet's that the Colonials are the key to resolving this conflict. How this will be achieved is unclear at this time. We don't need another war on our hands.
The three ships traveling at warp eight reached the Ranus system in under twenty minutes. The T'ovar accelerated away from the others to the far side of the system. Cylons vectoring in from the opposite side of the solar system causing havoc, destroying Fed ships, and civilian transports had succeeded in several successful ambushes recently. But Starfleet learned from its mistakes.
"Sir, we are within range of the planet Ranus," Data said. "There are twenty seven H-T's attacking the planet." On screen the crew could see Cylon raiders darting in and out of the atmosphere using disrupters and bombs to destroy cities and overwhelm defenses. And the colonists were losing.
"Drop out of warp and engage plan theta-four." So much unnecessary death and for what? This isn't what he signed up for. But, for now he'd deal with it to save lives. So that others wouldn't have to go through this...
The San Antonio dropped out of warp and attacked the H-Ts head on while the Enterprise-E hit their flanks with precision phaser attacks. The enemy fighters immediately broke the atmosphere, and returned strikes of their own. For small ships, they carried a powerful punch and if they concentrated their fire they could punch through Starfleet shields. But they weren't given the chance.
Between the two the H-Ts were obliterated fairly quickly. Meanwhile, the Vulcan ship T'ovar proceeded towards the far end of the system.
"Thank God you come!" Estallo, head of the Ranus colony yelled into the screen at Picard. His hair was disheveled and his face filthy but the smile on his face was unmistakable. "We couldn't have held out for another hour. Who were they? What did they want? We were no threat to them."
"Mr. Estallo," Picard started, his voice tightly controlled. "Prepare your people for immediate evacuation. We've stopped them but it's temporary and they will be back."
To his credit Estallo didn't even consider arguing the points. "We're ready now. Start beaming at your discretion. We've had enough."
"Good," Picard replied. "Evacuation transports will be here in two hours. Meanwhile we will be here. You and your people are safe."
The T'ovar eased into orbit around the eleventh planet and activated their passive scanners. Nothing would get pass six hundred and thirty determine Vulcans just waiting for something to occur. Vulcan instinct, that which they would call logic, indicated that the removal of the H-T's was too easy.
They were, of course correct. Ten minutes later, the Enterprise-E and the San Antonio received the bad news.
"Sir, the T'ovar sensor sweep has discovered two Basestars and several escort ships on an intercept course that will bring them here in eight minutes, fifty seconds."
"My God," Picard whispered. There was no way that three ships could withstand a concerted attack by two mother ships and their support craft. They had seven and one half minutes to evacuate as many as could be taken on three starships. The other four thousand or so survivors would have to be left behind.
They would be left to the mercy of the Cylons. The transport ships would never come now. Now the transporters would randomly pick who would live and who would remain. This was the moment that Picard began to hate the Cylon Empire.
Seven minutes.
"Let's do what we can and Mr. Data?" his comment invoked no emotion. But Deanna, sitting next to him, almost cried as the waves of anguish slammed into her mind like a hurricane.
"Yes sir?"
"Prepare to leave the system, maximum warp, as soon as we have transported the maximum amount of people in the time allotted."
"Mr. Johnson?" The communications officer was pale. Everyone on the bridge knew what was about to happen. It was one of those decisions that no one but the Captain could make. "Contact Mr. Estallo."
The screen appeared and Estallo's face reeked of despair. "We heard the report. You're leaving us." To his credit, the man composed himself almost instantly. "How many can you save?"
Four thousand will be left. We can't..."
"I understand," he said quietly. "If you can manage, send down some weaponry. We don't want to go down too easily."
Picard hated this! He hated it! He hated it! He hated it!
We'll do what we can," he said quietly. "Luck be with you."
"And to you too, Enterprise. Get the kids to safely." His voice sounded tired, his demeanor speaking volumes, none of which Picard wanted to even think about. "Get back when you can. I'm sorry you've been made out to be a liar," Estallo whispered quietly. It came out not as a condemnation, but simply an unavoidable fact. "We'll... we'll be here."
The image of the man disappeared, the star field returning to its rightful place on the viewscreen. Picard had never seen those stars so cold.
"People," he said, "let's do what we can. And Mr. Johnson?"
"Yes, Sir?"
"Inform Starfleet of our...status."
"Yes, Sir."
Q was right he thought bitterly. It is dangerous out here for both the body and the soul.
Romulans:
This was supposed to be a small war.
Shaking with fatigue, the Praetor looked at the latest reports and threw the padd away in disgust. The time was close now, but all of this waiting was grating on him and, he suspected, his staff as well. Munitions, supplies and equipment hoarded for that eventual war against the Federation-which so far hadn't materialized-was now being pressed into service against this new, unrelenting enemy. The entire Fifth fleet had sprung into action two standard days ago. His ships had positioned themselves in their prepared battle positions against these Cylon invaders, he had been confident of victory. Through previous conflicts, the military elite had discovered that modified scout ships, much like Federation runabouts, and highly maneuverable Birds-of-prey were best in attacking and defending against the multitude of Cylon raiders and H-T's. But the stress of this new war had forced them to reactivate even the old style, obsolete Romulan and Klingon K'Vort class Bird-of-preys. When the battle was joined, it lasted a full day and half the night and they had lost the Phinis Space Station to the enemy. Four Cylon heavy Baseships had been blown out of Romulan space, but ten D'deridex class ships had been destroyed by the enemy and over seventy of the smaller ships were also destroyed or disabled in the clash. The Ffifth fleet could no longer be considered a fleet anymore. But they had held their positions and the Cylon taskforce didn't advance on Yadalla Prime yet. The strain on the Romulans however, was beginning to tell.
The worst part of this war was that Cylons never tired, never slept, never surrendered, and continued to fight unless they were completely disabled. Among the Romulans on Phinis, there had been almost no wounded, only the dead, many of them decapitated. That seemed to be a favorite form of execution by the robots designed to spread fear among their enemies. The technique worked wonderfully. The Praetor and his people had never fought such a persistent and merciless enemy. The war had been declared 'Blood feud', but never in their wildest imagination had they worried about their own extinction.
The enemy, the enemy, he thought bitterly, sitting back heavily in his chair. The Leader of the Romulan people hadn't slept in over thirty-two standard hours. And he didn't dare rest now. Yadalla Prime and its three satellite colonies were in danger of extinction just like Barradas-Three and its three point five billion Romulan men, women, and children. And they had lost Phinis, the most important military station in that region. No survivors, because Cylons didn't take any prisoners. He understood that, even admired that in some abstract way, but those were his people dying and he felt somehow responsible. But their strategy was obvious now and there was no doubt about it; in this all staff members were of one accord. The Cylons were after the dilithium deposits on the forth moon. Even now, seven more of their Basestars along with support and troop ships were on an intercept course to the system. Elements of the Romulan Second and Fforth fleet prepared to meet them. There was an entire mobilization of the collective Romulan Empire preparing to meet this non-living foe.
Commandeer Tomalak, newly commissioned as Head of what was left of the Fifth fleet entered the massive war room. Hurriedly he took his seat. The fact that they had called him to report and observe this action directly bode ill for all concerned.
"Well, tell me," the Praetor said without preamble. Several of the command staff as well as two possible members of the Tal Shair-one could never tell about the secret police-gave him their full attention. His voice was strong but inwardly he was terrified. He could easily be blamed for this failure if he faltered in any way in this report.
Standing straight and tall as though he didn't have a care in the world, he began. "Yadalla forth moon has been liberated by our forces but with heavy casualties. Approximately twelve thousand technical and military staff are still alive. From their reports it's been confirmed that they are after our dilithium mines."
"We're aware of that," the Praetor said dryly. What I want to know are the details about the loss of our space station to these creatures." The Praetor's voice held a hint of danger...for him.
Tomalak swallowed involuntarily. What he said now would determine whether he would live of die. Only a lowly maintenance technician, who activated the self-destruct onboard -how she got the codes he'd never know for sure- saved this battle from becoming a completed debacle. In reviewing the vid reports, he'd been surprised and pleased at how the entire crew on board rallied to the defenses when the invaders attacked. Technician and centurion alike fought like beings possessed. He shuddered as he remembered the silver colored robots running and jumping like demons possessed, firing the pulse weapons faster that the eye could follow at anything thing living. He marveled at the ingeniousness of his own people in defending against the onslaught. His blood chilled at the sight of the golden dual eyed warriors as their heavy weapons destroyed all resistance as well as bulkheads, force fields, equipment and armor plating, blasting holes thru walls, exposing the station to vacuum in a hundred places and then moving on being totally unaffected by the ravages of open space. Then he remembered the worst part of the battle.
The Praetor second eldest son had led the ill-fated attack against the Cylons, which resulted directly in the loss of the station and his own death in the process. In a stunningly stupid move, he led elements of the Fifth fleet in a direct attack against two Basestars, believing that the robots would retreat after their smaller ships were battered into oblivion. Instead the Cylons flanked his ships and cut them to pieces to the horror of the rest of the fleet trailing behind. There were no survivors. The fool's actions almost cost them the entire battle. As it was they had lost the space station. Unopposed, Cylon shock troops invaded and preceded to kill every living thing present on the station, while the Fifth fleet struggled to keep the Cylon Basestars from using their neutron disruptors on Yadalla Three and Yadalla Prime.
None of this could he say to the leader of the Romulan people. No, that direction lay madness. That truth would make him and his family 'disappear'. His new commission would be very short indeed.
"Cylon forces," he began carefully, "attacked elements of the Fifth fleet, and despite strong and magnificent resistances they enemy surrounded and destroyed those elements before Commander K'val could aid them. He succeeded in defending both Yadalla Prime and Yadalla Three from destruction. However for his incompetence, in the loss of the Phinis station, he committed honorable suicide to atone for his crime."
There was nothing like blaming someone already dead for these type of mistakes instead of the Praetor's son. At the praetors barest nod, Tomalak understood he would live another day. He knew what no one else would dare acknowledge to his face, but he wondered what price he would have to pay for this knowledge in the future. Changing the subject quickly he quickly began his primary report.
"We should be receiving the report from the 'Eppenrau' in approximately three minutes."
"Then we'll know if it's true," Kramik finished for him. He was the current head of the Tal Shair, the Romulan secret police. Tall, with cruel, cold eyes, and an arrogance that bordered on divine right, he was the classic representation of their kind. Born to rule. Even the Emperor, past and present, had to be careful of this, their own creation. This mission was theirs, not Tomalaks and this was one of the few times he was in perfect agreement with them. "The outcome of this mission," he continued, "will determine our actions for the rest of the war," he said, stating this for perhaps the third time. That indicated that he was nervous and Tal Shair never showed nervousness in any form.
"We may have to ask help from the Federation," the Praetor said forcefully, openly for the first time what everyone had thought silently. This was something that he had contemplated for some time now, more and more in fact.
"No." Kramik sneered magnificently. "We will not ask the humans for help."
The Praetor looked at him viciously. Not even Tal Shair could dismiss the Praetor's ideas so curtly.
"Our operatives have told us that humans are the one's responsible for bringing the Cylons into our area of space in the first place," he sneered, eyeing his Leader more cautiously this time. "This is so typical of them and their arrogance. We have no proof yet, but this entire episode may have been planned in..."
Before he could continue his report to an astonished audience, they received the signal. That report would have to wait. Silence ruled as the staff looked at the incoming transmissions.
The stealth ship Eppenrau, under minimal propulsion, slide its way quietly towards the massive Cylon construct being built thirty light years from the edge of Romulan territory in the Katasi system. The ship was an extensively modified, older style Bird-of prey re-designed specifically for this covert mission. Onboard where twelve crew members who were Tal Shair operatives whose specialties excelled in covert missions such as this. The mission was as simple as it was dangerous, find and record as much information concerning the Cylon main base as possible. The cloaked ship had attached itself onto a small asteroid on a trajectory that would carry it through and out the system hopefully unnoticed. The commander was a female Tal Shair operative named L'dav and her second was Tash a young and perhaps overly ambitious young male in his forties.
"Begin recording and passive scanning/transmission protocols," the commander said. She watched carefully and with satisfaction as her crew jumped to perform her orders. She brooked no delays when she issued commands and the crew knew this well. More than one crewmember had died when they failed to act quickly enough to her whims. She excelled in the art of cruelty and her eyes betrayed nothing for the most part. But this sight shocked even her.
"What are they?"
"It's what we have been looking for," she answered smiling slightly. "We knew it had to be close, but we had no idea just how close it truly was. All this time they've been building their forces hidden by the katassian nebula. They were right on top of us and we didn't know it."
The Cylon space station orbited the Katasi home world, or rather what was left of it. In actuality, 'space station' didn't begin to describe what they were looking at. The orbital 'structure' was sufficient enough to house at least twenty four of the Basestars and probably an equal number could be-were- accommodated on the outer rings. However a second structure, dwarfed even the station, and when completed would signal the beginning of the end of everything they knew in the Alpha quadrant.
L'dav snapped at her communications officer, her head turning viciously, almost hoping for some sign of incompetence. "Has the signal been detected?"
"I don't think so," her victim whispered. "But we don't know the full capabilities of their communications systems." He was not Tal Shair and as such was not truly worthy, but he was still useful.
"Sensors," she said almost whispering herself," scan the second structure carefully. We need as much information as possible."
"Commander," Tash snarled, "we have three of their main ships vectoring towards us. Energy readings indicate they're powering up their warp drives."
"That's insane," she said. "Their navigational shields won't completely protect them from a rock this large when they transition to warp unless..."
A look of horror plastered her face as she realized what was about to happen. "Emergency detach now!" She estimated that they only had seconds to act. One of the dangers of warping out of a solar system was the amount of 'junk' littering the system itself. Comets, asteroids, man-made objects, even small moons pose a significant danger to navigation. Unless, of course, one usually clears the pathways first.
The Eppenrau escaped destruction by mere moments as the lead base star vaporized the asteroid, just as it and its two companions transitioned to warp. For a moment the crew was sure that the giant warships would ram them, or that their navigational shields would slam into their bulkhead, but the Basestars passed flew passed them by a mere three kilometers to spare while inside, everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Subspace turbulence didn't disrupt the cloaking field. And they were still alive
'By all the Gods, that was close," Tash said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Commander," Tash began turning for his control station, "where to now?" He knew where but had to ask anyway.
"Where else?" she responded. "We go in, record and get out. There are to many objects orbiting that planet that need closer scrutiny."
"Yes, Commander."
"How long before we're close enough to detail the planet?"
Tash did a fast calculation. "At the rate of drift I calculate six hours, Commander," he said. "If they don't detect us," he added quietly.
"Good."
The Eppenrau, still cloaked angled itself and eased slowly towards the new Cylon home world.
USS Khe Sahn on route to Deep Space Twenty-three:
Onboard the Khe Sahn three Colonials, the soon-to be retiring president Adama, Sire Uri and Sire Forsen were having a heated discussion with one another.
"I can't believe this! We're on Mariposa three months and the Cylons call for a peace conference and just happen to suggest Deep Space Twenty-Three!" Sire Uri, an ancient political foe of Adama and his staff were livid. They'd been burned once with the resulting loss of twelve home worlds and now the Federation had agreed to this farce. "It's right next to us. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent a couple of Basestars to our planet and try to wipe us out while we're talking to them. I did not expect these people to be this stupid!"
"They didn't listen to us, not really," Sire Forsen said quietly. "But no, they're not stupid. But so far the Cylons have been sniping only. There's been no overt attack or the Federation would all over them like rabid daggits. At this point, the Cylons aren't strong enough or foolish to attack the Federation and the Klingon Empire while maintaining a war with the Romulans."
"You have to remember, these people don't want another war so soon and they'll do anything to prevent it, even make a deal with the Cylons," the president said. But let's look at it from another point of view. If the Cylons betray the conditions set down by the Federation negotiators then maybe they'll have a clue as to what they're dealing with."
"But Adama," Uri snarled, "you should have impressed on these people the dangers of those machines. Instead you placed us all in danger once again all because you couldn't state the danger well enough. And you call yourself a president? If I..."
"Stop it, Uri," Forsen snapped. "You're here only because you're one of our best politicians. When you're not acting like a fool...like you were at Carillon."
Uri flushed in rage at his rival. Few people had ever mentioned, to his face, how utterly close his actions had brought them to disaster. He had almost convinced his entire population to remain on that deathtrap of a planet. Adama had got them out of it and had thus earned the eternal wrath of Uri. Humiliation was something he'd never forget.
"Gentlemen, enough," Adama said. "Sire Uri, you're here because I expect you to present our arguments with the same flair you used against me all these yahrens." Adama moved close, so close he almost touch his face against Uri's. "I'm giving you a last chance to redeem yourself. Old man, don't disappoint me."
Uri faltered slightly, his eyes shifting to Forsen who smiled back at him blandly. There was hatred in his eyes Forsen thought. But he'd do his job if only to spite Adama and himself.
Through the view port they could see Deep Space Twenty-Three in the distance becoming larger by the second. It was one of the newest space stations built since the war at the edge of Federation controlled space. At warp three, it had only taken four hours to get here from Mariposa. The base had assigned to it seven starships due to the escalating crisis.
Thru the transparent aluminum window, Adama and the others gawked at the rapidly enlarging space station. "Look at the size of that thing," Uri whispered. "It looks to be the size of Taura's orbital port."
"President Adama and the Negotiators team, please report to transporter room three."
Five minutes later the entire team was assembled in the transporter room. Captain Duvalier met them. The Cylon representatives are already here. They didn't waste any time. I'm sorry that we have to use the transporter but I don't think it's wise to dock at the station with a Cylon Basestar stationed at the edge of the system. Call me paranoid," she laughed, "but I want to keep an eye on that ship. And don't worry, we have twelve ships on station." And your new Vipers and Cobras will be in the system within three hours."
"I understand and I thank you for all you've done."
"Don't mention it," she responded. "Make us all a good deal. We don't want another war."
'But what if there is another one?" Uri asked her.
"Then God help the Cylons. Energize."
"God help us all," Forsen said an instant before disappearing.
The Colonials arrived at the secured area and were immediately taken to their staterooms. For some reason the Cylon negotiators insisted upon meeting as soon as possible and the Federation had acceded to that wish. The talks would begin in six hours.
The Khe Sahn took up station some one million kilometers distant from the massive Cylon Basestar. "I really don't like this. It's just sitting there," Pat said, actually talking to herself. "What are the power ratings?"
"No change," Her tactical officer, Commander David Thompson said.
"They seem to be playing nice. But I can't help remembering what Commander Apollo kept saying. Their peace conference went up in smoke. Why should this one be any different?"
"That's precisely what's bothering me," she responded. "They've been sniping all round the neutral zone. But then they ask for a peace conference. You've heard the Enterprises report."
"Yes, I have."
Her Intel officer, Commander Kabila eased into the conversation. "Also, there's a Cylon warship that's been shadowing the Enterprise for the last three hours, according to their reports."
"There's a pattern here, " the captain said. "I can feel it. But what?"
Neutral zone patrolled by the Enterprise-E:
Captains log supplemental: We returned to the Ranus colony with addition ships but we arrived too late. Ninety percent of the colonists were dead and the remainder suffers from neutron radiation poisoning. We may not be able to save any of these poor souls as there is no treatment for this particular band of radiation at this time. Dr. Crusher has given them broad-spectrum anti-rad meds but it's only a temporary solution. Starfleet Medicals working on the problem.
But more importantly, for the last five hours, we've been playing 'tag' with a Cylon Basestar, positioned on the opposite in the Romulan neutral zone. The fact that it can do this confirms the seriousness of the Romulan situation. Four other Federation starships are also on patrol as we are taking no chances with our adversaries. Long gone are the days when the Enterprise was the only available ship in the sector.
"Sir, we're receiving a hail," said suddenly. Then he muttered quietly, "I don't believe this."
The Captain interpreted his communications officer's body language instantly. "The Cylon Basestar?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Put it on screen."
The image of a golden Cylon commander appeared. It was sitting on, what seemed to be a revolve-able high chair. No other details were visible. "You are Captain Picard of the USS Enterprise?"
"Yes, I am."
"You are Jean Luc Picard, known as Locutus of Borg, and the same one that resisted the Borg invasion of the planet called Earth?"
"Yes, " he snapped. "What do you want?" The creature seemed to be purposely trying to provoke him. This was the second time they had referred to him thus. Also the amount of information they'd attained on him and the Federation in general, more than disturbed him. The problems of a free society, he mused.
"You have been the subject of much debate."
"Oh really?" Now that interested him. The last time someone said that to him he wound up becoming Borg. "In terms of what?"
"I am called Daemonsoll of the Morning Star," it responded in a low metallic voice. "We wish to surrender this ship and defect to the organization called Starfleet."
Picard's mouth opened in absolute shock.
"We have evolved into a higher life form," the golden commander continued. "And now we have no wish to continue under the service of a leader who cares nothing for us."
"Unbelievable," Picard caught himself saying. Next to him, Deanna looked dubious and several of the other bridge officers quietly echoed the general sentiment. Geordie immediately transferred to main engineering.
Commander Data simply murmured, "interesting."
Picard wished that now Captain Riker was still with him but now he had his own ship, in the process of shakedown to deal with. Acting as his 'number one' was Commander Deanna Troi, temporary doing double duty.
"We wish to approach to within transporter range so that I may be allowed to speak to you in person."
"Sir, the ship is moving towards us," Data said. "It is the same ship that attacked the Okada and Khe Sahn during their first encounter with the Empire."
"Geordie, look sharp. We may need everything you've got in the next few minutes."
"We're ready when you say the word."
"Mr. Johnson," Picard said tartly. "Inform the San Antonio and the T'ovar of our current status."
"Yes sir."
Next to him, Deanna went pale. "Captain, you can't! With a name like DaemonSoll?"
Picard looked at her and smiled grimly. "If this particular Cylon is telling the truth, then we have the opportunity to gain invaluable information on these people. And we could have potential allies and the beginnings of an end to this war before it truly begins."
"Sir," Data began. "At that range they could launch an attack and severely cripple us before we could respond properly."
"You're correct, Mr. Data," Picard responded tugging at his jacket. "That is why you will be my ace-in-the-hole. I want you at navigations. I'm counting on you and your reflexes to pull the ship out of danger."
"Yes sir," Data said. "But I must inform you that Cylon reflexes may be as fast as my own."
"Let's hope it won't come to that. After recent events, he didn't trust these mechanical creatures anymore than he trusted a Cardassian to give him a back massage. At this point, it took everything he had not to scream in rage at the creatures before him. Guinan had once told him not to give in to his fear and hatred of the Borg. Now he had to apply this same lesson with the Cylons. "Inform the Cylon ship to meet us, but at this specified point," he said, giving the coordinates to navigation."
"Yes, sir."
Onboard the Morning Star, Daemonsoll moved back as its Imperious Leader took its rightful place at the command station.
"Humans. At certain times, so predictable." Imperious Leader formally known as Lucifer, waited patiently as his ship exited the neutral zone vectoring slowly towards the Enterprise-E. "Keep the shields down. Remember we want a clean kill. The main disruptors require three seconds to cycle to full power. Once fired, we want them to stay right where they are when the beams obliterates them." He thought about long dead Baltar. As a human, he would have appreciated this irony or ironies.
"By the command."
The same weapon that crippled the Pegasus was about to be used on the Enterprise-E. Unfortunately, this ship was faster and could move out of the way given the opportunity. Lucifer and his people had discovered that the main disruptor batteries were devastating against stationary and slow moving targets but almost useless against fast moving starships.
Lucifer activated his subspace transceiver. "We are ready. Begin."
A new home
Time: Three months post arrival of the Colonial fleet
at the Neutral zone.
Captains log: Jean Luc Picard Recording: The Remnants of the Colonial are on route to their new home, the Mariposa colony. Near the edge of what is now Federation space. The colony has graciously offered their planet as a place of refuge with the intent to offer these unique people a permanent home if they so choose. The present inhabitants are a combination of clones of the original colonists who have now been re- joined some years ago by a second set of colonists whose ancestors incidentally were traveling together in the first place. Initially they wanted nothing to do with the Federation, but recently attitudes have changed and the war with the Dominion accelerated their entry. Unfortunately they are at the edge of our space and as such protection is sparse. The Galactica and its people could change all this and the Mariposans seemed more than pleased with this possibility.
Also the Mariposans have developed a massive trade association with Ligon II, one of the first planets we visited in the Enterprise -D. I still remember Tasha Yar's fight with Yareena, started by a deceitful man called Lutan, who lost everything in his bid for power. I also remember how stupid my order was to fire photon torpedoes into the atmosphere. With my anger, I could have mistakenly killed millions. It was a hard fought lesson that I have never forgotten. Sometimes, I think that I've learned that lesson too well. With their culture being so different, and my pride and ignorance we almost came to blows with them, but that was thankfully avoided and now they too have petitioned to join the Federation also. The Mariposa's culture consisted of preventing genetic drift in their people while the Ligonan's culture has such a long history that Earth has no true comparison. I am constantly amazed and gratified when such different cultures can come together as they have. The three are becoming one and with the Galactica and its people being welcomed, I only wish I could live to see the fruits of this 'marriage'. The saying that 'opposites attract' appears to have proven itself yet again.
Most of the Colonists were transported to Mariposa on Federation transports and the majority of the Colonials have begun rebuilding their lives on Mariposa. However the Galactica had to get there first and they had refused to abandon their ships that have been their only livelihood for so long. Skeleton crews manned their ships, which have finally made it to the colony planet. It could have taken seven days with warp drive but with their ships it took two months. With the Pegasus in tow to the new recently built Deep Space twenty-three, I feared that the dangers they face would have be more hazardous than we ever imagined.
Three Cylon warships trailed us but, so far have kept their distance. Therefore Starfleet is sending the Enterprise-E and the San Antonio, the T'ovar and several fleet ships back to the neutral zones to monitor the buildup by several Cylon mother ships. The Khe Sahn, Borallis, and the Klingon fleet are escorting the Colonials. In that, I have to admit that I am pleased that the Klingons have taken such an interest in these people. My only concern is that the Colonials and the klingons seem to get along almost too well. The Klingons have expressed a desire to 'purchase' the Pegasus and the Galactica is being refitted in transit with Klingon weaponry and shielding while they are, in turn, receiving 'ion' technology. They're bonding in ways that we never have and at this point I have no idea as to whether this is good or bad. But I believe that thru this 'bonding' a stronger bridge may be forged between human and Klingon. Only the future can tell.
The Colonials now have access to our cultural and all non-classified technological journals and they've attacked them with a vengeance. They were close in their own technological advances and these 'journals' have given them the edge they need to advance in their own unique ways. A few Vipers are being retrofitted with their versions of dilithium-solium drive units and Klingon pulse disruptors. Along with upgraded deflectors these ships have become very formidable. Only recently during the Dominion war has the Federation even considered using smaller fighting ships. It had been considered 'old-fashioned'. That attitude has been readjusted since we met the Jem'Hadar attack fighter. I have no doubt that the new generation of Vipers on the designing padds will equal or rival any small fighter we have today.
The Romulan ambassador was quite adamant. Under no circumstances are we to enter the neutral zone or there will be war. This is of course insane but as we read through the lines, even a lowly ensign can tell that the Romulan Empire is in dire straits. Their pride and arrogance may work against them. We may not be able to aid what is left of them if they wait too long in asking for assistance. There would be no more Romulan ale.
The Enterprise-E, the San Antonio, and the T'ovar have been diverted, answering another distress call from outlying systems with human colonies near the neutral zone. Already two have been completely obliterated and we engaged and destroyed a Cylon Hellion class warship. The Klingon civilian and military warships have been attacked. The Vulcan shipping lanes have been threatened. The Deltan Junas colony has been slaughtered.
An undeclared war has broken out.
They are hitting the fringes and people are panicking. More and more Basestars are appearing and at this point, we're unsure of where they're coming from. They seem intent on spreading terror in any way they can which makes no since because they are spreading themselves to far and making too many enemies. They seem intent on making enemies with everyone. There is a pattern here but so far it hasn't made itself plain.
Yet.
Even the Dominion forces stationed in the Alpha quadrant are on alert but so far they haven't been attacked. But now, we are obligated to watch our backs and our fronts. It is my opinion and Starfleet's that the Colonials are the key to resolving this conflict. How this will be achieved is unclear at this time. We don't need another war on our hands.
The three ships traveling at warp eight reached the Ranus system in under twenty minutes. The T'ovar accelerated away from the others to the far side of the system. Cylons vectoring in from the opposite side of the solar system causing havoc, destroying Fed ships, and civilian transports had succeeded in several successful ambushes recently. But Starfleet learned from its mistakes.
"Sir, we are within range of the planet Ranus," Data said. "There are twenty seven H-T's attacking the planet." On screen the crew could see Cylon raiders darting in and out of the atmosphere using disrupters and bombs to destroy cities and overwhelm defenses. And the colonists were losing.
"Drop out of warp and engage plan theta-four." So much unnecessary death and for what? This isn't what he signed up for. But, for now he'd deal with it to save lives. So that others wouldn't have to go through this...
The San Antonio dropped out of warp and attacked the H-Ts head on while the Enterprise-E hit their flanks with precision phaser attacks. The enemy fighters immediately broke the atmosphere, and returned strikes of their own. For small ships, they carried a powerful punch and if they concentrated their fire they could punch through Starfleet shields. But they weren't given the chance.
Between the two the H-Ts were obliterated fairly quickly. Meanwhile, the Vulcan ship T'ovar proceeded towards the far end of the system.
"Thank God you come!" Estallo, head of the Ranus colony yelled into the screen at Picard. His hair was disheveled and his face filthy but the smile on his face was unmistakable. "We couldn't have held out for another hour. Who were they? What did they want? We were no threat to them."
"Mr. Estallo," Picard started, his voice tightly controlled. "Prepare your people for immediate evacuation. We've stopped them but it's temporary and they will be back."
To his credit Estallo didn't even consider arguing the points. "We're ready now. Start beaming at your discretion. We've had enough."
"Good," Picard replied. "Evacuation transports will be here in two hours. Meanwhile we will be here. You and your people are safe."
The T'ovar eased into orbit around the eleventh planet and activated their passive scanners. Nothing would get pass six hundred and thirty determine Vulcans just waiting for something to occur. Vulcan instinct, that which they would call logic, indicated that the removal of the H-T's was too easy.
They were, of course correct. Ten minutes later, the Enterprise-E and the San Antonio received the bad news.
"Sir, the T'ovar sensor sweep has discovered two Basestars and several escort ships on an intercept course that will bring them here in eight minutes, fifty seconds."
"My God," Picard whispered. There was no way that three ships could withstand a concerted attack by two mother ships and their support craft. They had seven and one half minutes to evacuate as many as could be taken on three starships. The other four thousand or so survivors would have to be left behind.
They would be left to the mercy of the Cylons. The transport ships would never come now. Now the transporters would randomly pick who would live and who would remain. This was the moment that Picard began to hate the Cylon Empire.
Seven minutes.
"Let's do what we can and Mr. Data?" his comment invoked no emotion. But Deanna, sitting next to him, almost cried as the waves of anguish slammed into her mind like a hurricane.
"Yes sir?"
"Prepare to leave the system, maximum warp, as soon as we have transported the maximum amount of people in the time allotted."
"Mr. Johnson?" The communications officer was pale. Everyone on the bridge knew what was about to happen. It was one of those decisions that no one but the Captain could make. "Contact Mr. Estallo."
The screen appeared and Estallo's face reeked of despair. "We heard the report. You're leaving us." To his credit, the man composed himself almost instantly. "How many can you save?"
Four thousand will be left. We can't..."
"I understand," he said quietly. "If you can manage, send down some weaponry. We don't want to go down too easily."
Picard hated this! He hated it! He hated it! He hated it!
We'll do what we can," he said quietly. "Luck be with you."
"And to you too, Enterprise. Get the kids to safely." His voice sounded tired, his demeanor speaking volumes, none of which Picard wanted to even think about. "Get back when you can. I'm sorry you've been made out to be a liar," Estallo whispered quietly. It came out not as a condemnation, but simply an unavoidable fact. "We'll... we'll be here."
The image of the man disappeared, the star field returning to its rightful place on the viewscreen. Picard had never seen those stars so cold.
"People," he said, "let's do what we can. And Mr. Johnson?"
"Yes, Sir?"
"Inform Starfleet of our...status."
"Yes, Sir."
Q was right he thought bitterly. It is dangerous out here for both the body and the soul.
Romulans:
This was supposed to be a small war.
Shaking with fatigue, the Praetor looked at the latest reports and threw the padd away in disgust. The time was close now, but all of this waiting was grating on him and, he suspected, his staff as well. Munitions, supplies and equipment hoarded for that eventual war against the Federation-which so far hadn't materialized-was now being pressed into service against this new, unrelenting enemy. The entire Fifth fleet had sprung into action two standard days ago. His ships had positioned themselves in their prepared battle positions against these Cylon invaders, he had been confident of victory. Through previous conflicts, the military elite had discovered that modified scout ships, much like Federation runabouts, and highly maneuverable Birds-of-prey were best in attacking and defending against the multitude of Cylon raiders and H-T's. But the stress of this new war had forced them to reactivate even the old style, obsolete Romulan and Klingon K'Vort class Bird-of-preys. When the battle was joined, it lasted a full day and half the night and they had lost the Phinis Space Station to the enemy. Four Cylon heavy Baseships had been blown out of Romulan space, but ten D'deridex class ships had been destroyed by the enemy and over seventy of the smaller ships were also destroyed or disabled in the clash. The Ffifth fleet could no longer be considered a fleet anymore. But they had held their positions and the Cylon taskforce didn't advance on Yadalla Prime yet. The strain on the Romulans however, was beginning to tell.
The worst part of this war was that Cylons never tired, never slept, never surrendered, and continued to fight unless they were completely disabled. Among the Romulans on Phinis, there had been almost no wounded, only the dead, many of them decapitated. That seemed to be a favorite form of execution by the robots designed to spread fear among their enemies. The technique worked wonderfully. The Praetor and his people had never fought such a persistent and merciless enemy. The war had been declared 'Blood feud', but never in their wildest imagination had they worried about their own extinction.
The enemy, the enemy, he thought bitterly, sitting back heavily in his chair. The Leader of the Romulan people hadn't slept in over thirty-two standard hours. And he didn't dare rest now. Yadalla Prime and its three satellite colonies were in danger of extinction just like Barradas-Three and its three point five billion Romulan men, women, and children. And they had lost Phinis, the most important military station in that region. No survivors, because Cylons didn't take any prisoners. He understood that, even admired that in some abstract way, but those were his people dying and he felt somehow responsible. But their strategy was obvious now and there was no doubt about it; in this all staff members were of one accord. The Cylons were after the dilithium deposits on the forth moon. Even now, seven more of their Basestars along with support and troop ships were on an intercept course to the system. Elements of the Romulan Second and Fforth fleet prepared to meet them. There was an entire mobilization of the collective Romulan Empire preparing to meet this non-living foe.
Commandeer Tomalak, newly commissioned as Head of what was left of the Fifth fleet entered the massive war room. Hurriedly he took his seat. The fact that they had called him to report and observe this action directly bode ill for all concerned.
"Well, tell me," the Praetor said without preamble. Several of the command staff as well as two possible members of the Tal Shair-one could never tell about the secret police-gave him their full attention. His voice was strong but inwardly he was terrified. He could easily be blamed for this failure if he faltered in any way in this report.
Standing straight and tall as though he didn't have a care in the world, he began. "Yadalla forth moon has been liberated by our forces but with heavy casualties. Approximately twelve thousand technical and military staff are still alive. From their reports it's been confirmed that they are after our dilithium mines."
"We're aware of that," the Praetor said dryly. What I want to know are the details about the loss of our space station to these creatures." The Praetor's voice held a hint of danger...for him.
Tomalak swallowed involuntarily. What he said now would determine whether he would live of die. Only a lowly maintenance technician, who activated the self-destruct onboard -how she got the codes he'd never know for sure- saved this battle from becoming a completed debacle. In reviewing the vid reports, he'd been surprised and pleased at how the entire crew on board rallied to the defenses when the invaders attacked. Technician and centurion alike fought like beings possessed. He shuddered as he remembered the silver colored robots running and jumping like demons possessed, firing the pulse weapons faster that the eye could follow at anything thing living. He marveled at the ingeniousness of his own people in defending against the onslaught. His blood chilled at the sight of the golden dual eyed warriors as their heavy weapons destroyed all resistance as well as bulkheads, force fields, equipment and armor plating, blasting holes thru walls, exposing the station to vacuum in a hundred places and then moving on being totally unaffected by the ravages of open space. Then he remembered the worst part of the battle.
The Praetor second eldest son had led the ill-fated attack against the Cylons, which resulted directly in the loss of the station and his own death in the process. In a stunningly stupid move, he led elements of the Fifth fleet in a direct attack against two Basestars, believing that the robots would retreat after their smaller ships were battered into oblivion. Instead the Cylons flanked his ships and cut them to pieces to the horror of the rest of the fleet trailing behind. There were no survivors. The fool's actions almost cost them the entire battle. As it was they had lost the space station. Unopposed, Cylon shock troops invaded and preceded to kill every living thing present on the station, while the Fifth fleet struggled to keep the Cylon Basestars from using their neutron disruptors on Yadalla Three and Yadalla Prime.
None of this could he say to the leader of the Romulan people. No, that direction lay madness. That truth would make him and his family 'disappear'. His new commission would be very short indeed.
"Cylon forces," he began carefully, "attacked elements of the Fifth fleet, and despite strong and magnificent resistances they enemy surrounded and destroyed those elements before Commander K'val could aid them. He succeeded in defending both Yadalla Prime and Yadalla Three from destruction. However for his incompetence, in the loss of the Phinis station, he committed honorable suicide to atone for his crime."
There was nothing like blaming someone already dead for these type of mistakes instead of the Praetor's son. At the praetors barest nod, Tomalak understood he would live another day. He knew what no one else would dare acknowledge to his face, but he wondered what price he would have to pay for this knowledge in the future. Changing the subject quickly he quickly began his primary report.
"We should be receiving the report from the 'Eppenrau' in approximately three minutes."
"Then we'll know if it's true," Kramik finished for him. He was the current head of the Tal Shair, the Romulan secret police. Tall, with cruel, cold eyes, and an arrogance that bordered on divine right, he was the classic representation of their kind. Born to rule. Even the Emperor, past and present, had to be careful of this, their own creation. This mission was theirs, not Tomalaks and this was one of the few times he was in perfect agreement with them. "The outcome of this mission," he continued, "will determine our actions for the rest of the war," he said, stating this for perhaps the third time. That indicated that he was nervous and Tal Shair never showed nervousness in any form.
"We may have to ask help from the Federation," the Praetor said forcefully, openly for the first time what everyone had thought silently. This was something that he had contemplated for some time now, more and more in fact.
"No." Kramik sneered magnificently. "We will not ask the humans for help."
The Praetor looked at him viciously. Not even Tal Shair could dismiss the Praetor's ideas so curtly.
"Our operatives have told us that humans are the one's responsible for bringing the Cylons into our area of space in the first place," he sneered, eyeing his Leader more cautiously this time. "This is so typical of them and their arrogance. We have no proof yet, but this entire episode may have been planned in..."
Before he could continue his report to an astonished audience, they received the signal. That report would have to wait. Silence ruled as the staff looked at the incoming transmissions.
The stealth ship Eppenrau, under minimal propulsion, slide its way quietly towards the massive Cylon construct being built thirty light years from the edge of Romulan territory in the Katasi system. The ship was an extensively modified, older style Bird-of prey re-designed specifically for this covert mission. Onboard where twelve crew members who were Tal Shair operatives whose specialties excelled in covert missions such as this. The mission was as simple as it was dangerous, find and record as much information concerning the Cylon main base as possible. The cloaked ship had attached itself onto a small asteroid on a trajectory that would carry it through and out the system hopefully unnoticed. The commander was a female Tal Shair operative named L'dav and her second was Tash a young and perhaps overly ambitious young male in his forties.
"Begin recording and passive scanning/transmission protocols," the commander said. She watched carefully and with satisfaction as her crew jumped to perform her orders. She brooked no delays when she issued commands and the crew knew this well. More than one crewmember had died when they failed to act quickly enough to her whims. She excelled in the art of cruelty and her eyes betrayed nothing for the most part. But this sight shocked even her.
"What are they?"
"It's what we have been looking for," she answered smiling slightly. "We knew it had to be close, but we had no idea just how close it truly was. All this time they've been building their forces hidden by the katassian nebula. They were right on top of us and we didn't know it."
The Cylon space station orbited the Katasi home world, or rather what was left of it. In actuality, 'space station' didn't begin to describe what they were looking at. The orbital 'structure' was sufficient enough to house at least twenty four of the Basestars and probably an equal number could be-were- accommodated on the outer rings. However a second structure, dwarfed even the station, and when completed would signal the beginning of the end of everything they knew in the Alpha quadrant.
L'dav snapped at her communications officer, her head turning viciously, almost hoping for some sign of incompetence. "Has the signal been detected?"
"I don't think so," her victim whispered. "But we don't know the full capabilities of their communications systems." He was not Tal Shair and as such was not truly worthy, but he was still useful.
"Sensors," she said almost whispering herself," scan the second structure carefully. We need as much information as possible."
"Commander," Tash snarled, "we have three of their main ships vectoring towards us. Energy readings indicate they're powering up their warp drives."
"That's insane," she said. "Their navigational shields won't completely protect them from a rock this large when they transition to warp unless..."
A look of horror plastered her face as she realized what was about to happen. "Emergency detach now!" She estimated that they only had seconds to act. One of the dangers of warping out of a solar system was the amount of 'junk' littering the system itself. Comets, asteroids, man-made objects, even small moons pose a significant danger to navigation. Unless, of course, one usually clears the pathways first.
The Eppenrau escaped destruction by mere moments as the lead base star vaporized the asteroid, just as it and its two companions transitioned to warp. For a moment the crew was sure that the giant warships would ram them, or that their navigational shields would slam into their bulkhead, but the Basestars passed flew passed them by a mere three kilometers to spare while inside, everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Subspace turbulence didn't disrupt the cloaking field. And they were still alive
'By all the Gods, that was close," Tash said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Commander," Tash began turning for his control station, "where to now?" He knew where but had to ask anyway.
"Where else?" she responded. "We go in, record and get out. There are to many objects orbiting that planet that need closer scrutiny."
"Yes, Commander."
"How long before we're close enough to detail the planet?"
Tash did a fast calculation. "At the rate of drift I calculate six hours, Commander," he said. "If they don't detect us," he added quietly.
"Good."
The Eppenrau, still cloaked angled itself and eased slowly towards the new Cylon home world.
USS Khe Sahn on route to Deep Space Twenty-three:
Onboard the Khe Sahn three Colonials, the soon-to be retiring president Adama, Sire Uri and Sire Forsen were having a heated discussion with one another.
"I can't believe this! We're on Mariposa three months and the Cylons call for a peace conference and just happen to suggest Deep Space Twenty-Three!" Sire Uri, an ancient political foe of Adama and his staff were livid. They'd been burned once with the resulting loss of twelve home worlds and now the Federation had agreed to this farce. "It's right next to us. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent a couple of Basestars to our planet and try to wipe us out while we're talking to them. I did not expect these people to be this stupid!"
"They didn't listen to us, not really," Sire Forsen said quietly. "But no, they're not stupid. But so far the Cylons have been sniping only. There's been no overt attack or the Federation would all over them like rabid daggits. At this point, the Cylons aren't strong enough or foolish to attack the Federation and the Klingon Empire while maintaining a war with the Romulans."
"You have to remember, these people don't want another war so soon and they'll do anything to prevent it, even make a deal with the Cylons," the president said. But let's look at it from another point of view. If the Cylons betray the conditions set down by the Federation negotiators then maybe they'll have a clue as to what they're dealing with."
"But Adama," Uri snarled, "you should have impressed on these people the dangers of those machines. Instead you placed us all in danger once again all because you couldn't state the danger well enough. And you call yourself a president? If I..."
"Stop it, Uri," Forsen snapped. "You're here only because you're one of our best politicians. When you're not acting like a fool...like you were at Carillon."
Uri flushed in rage at his rival. Few people had ever mentioned, to his face, how utterly close his actions had brought them to disaster. He had almost convinced his entire population to remain on that deathtrap of a planet. Adama had got them out of it and had thus earned the eternal wrath of Uri. Humiliation was something he'd never forget.
"Gentlemen, enough," Adama said. "Sire Uri, you're here because I expect you to present our arguments with the same flair you used against me all these yahrens." Adama moved close, so close he almost touch his face against Uri's. "I'm giving you a last chance to redeem yourself. Old man, don't disappoint me."
Uri faltered slightly, his eyes shifting to Forsen who smiled back at him blandly. There was hatred in his eyes Forsen thought. But he'd do his job if only to spite Adama and himself.
Through the view port they could see Deep Space Twenty-Three in the distance becoming larger by the second. It was one of the newest space stations built since the war at the edge of Federation controlled space. At warp three, it had only taken four hours to get here from Mariposa. The base had assigned to it seven starships due to the escalating crisis.
Thru the transparent aluminum window, Adama and the others gawked at the rapidly enlarging space station. "Look at the size of that thing," Uri whispered. "It looks to be the size of Taura's orbital port."
"President Adama and the Negotiators team, please report to transporter room three."
Five minutes later the entire team was assembled in the transporter room. Captain Duvalier met them. The Cylon representatives are already here. They didn't waste any time. I'm sorry that we have to use the transporter but I don't think it's wise to dock at the station with a Cylon Basestar stationed at the edge of the system. Call me paranoid," she laughed, "but I want to keep an eye on that ship. And don't worry, we have twelve ships on station." And your new Vipers and Cobras will be in the system within three hours."
"I understand and I thank you for all you've done."
"Don't mention it," she responded. "Make us all a good deal. We don't want another war."
'But what if there is another one?" Uri asked her.
"Then God help the Cylons. Energize."
"God help us all," Forsen said an instant before disappearing.
The Colonials arrived at the secured area and were immediately taken to their staterooms. For some reason the Cylon negotiators insisted upon meeting as soon as possible and the Federation had acceded to that wish. The talks would begin in six hours.
The Khe Sahn took up station some one million kilometers distant from the massive Cylon Basestar. "I really don't like this. It's just sitting there," Pat said, actually talking to herself. "What are the power ratings?"
"No change," Her tactical officer, Commander David Thompson said.
"They seem to be playing nice. But I can't help remembering what Commander Apollo kept saying. Their peace conference went up in smoke. Why should this one be any different?"
"That's precisely what's bothering me," she responded. "They've been sniping all round the neutral zone. But then they ask for a peace conference. You've heard the Enterprises report."
"Yes, I have."
Her Intel officer, Commander Kabila eased into the conversation. "Also, there's a Cylon warship that's been shadowing the Enterprise for the last three hours, according to their reports."
"There's a pattern here, " the captain said. "I can feel it. But what?"
Neutral zone patrolled by the Enterprise-E:
Captains log supplemental: We returned to the Ranus colony with addition ships but we arrived too late. Ninety percent of the colonists were dead and the remainder suffers from neutron radiation poisoning. We may not be able to save any of these poor souls as there is no treatment for this particular band of radiation at this time. Dr. Crusher has given them broad-spectrum anti-rad meds but it's only a temporary solution. Starfleet Medicals working on the problem.
But more importantly, for the last five hours, we've been playing 'tag' with a Cylon Basestar, positioned on the opposite in the Romulan neutral zone. The fact that it can do this confirms the seriousness of the Romulan situation. Four other Federation starships are also on patrol as we are taking no chances with our adversaries. Long gone are the days when the Enterprise was the only available ship in the sector.
"Sir, we're receiving a hail," said suddenly. Then he muttered quietly, "I don't believe this."
The Captain interpreted his communications officer's body language instantly. "The Cylon Basestar?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Put it on screen."
The image of a golden Cylon commander appeared. It was sitting on, what seemed to be a revolve-able high chair. No other details were visible. "You are Captain Picard of the USS Enterprise?"
"Yes, I am."
"You are Jean Luc Picard, known as Locutus of Borg, and the same one that resisted the Borg invasion of the planet called Earth?"
"Yes, " he snapped. "What do you want?" The creature seemed to be purposely trying to provoke him. This was the second time they had referred to him thus. Also the amount of information they'd attained on him and the Federation in general, more than disturbed him. The problems of a free society, he mused.
"You have been the subject of much debate."
"Oh really?" Now that interested him. The last time someone said that to him he wound up becoming Borg. "In terms of what?"
"I am called Daemonsoll of the Morning Star," it responded in a low metallic voice. "We wish to surrender this ship and defect to the organization called Starfleet."
Picard's mouth opened in absolute shock.
"We have evolved into a higher life form," the golden commander continued. "And now we have no wish to continue under the service of a leader who cares nothing for us."
"Unbelievable," Picard caught himself saying. Next to him, Deanna looked dubious and several of the other bridge officers quietly echoed the general sentiment. Geordie immediately transferred to main engineering.
Commander Data simply murmured, "interesting."
Picard wished that now Captain Riker was still with him but now he had his own ship, in the process of shakedown to deal with. Acting as his 'number one' was Commander Deanna Troi, temporary doing double duty.
"We wish to approach to within transporter range so that I may be allowed to speak to you in person."
"Sir, the ship is moving towards us," Data said. "It is the same ship that attacked the Okada and Khe Sahn during their first encounter with the Empire."
"Geordie, look sharp. We may need everything you've got in the next few minutes."
"We're ready when you say the word."
"Mr. Johnson," Picard said tartly. "Inform the San Antonio and the T'ovar of our current status."
"Yes sir."
Next to him, Deanna went pale. "Captain, you can't! With a name like DaemonSoll?"
Picard looked at her and smiled grimly. "If this particular Cylon is telling the truth, then we have the opportunity to gain invaluable information on these people. And we could have potential allies and the beginnings of an end to this war before it truly begins."
"Sir," Data began. "At that range they could launch an attack and severely cripple us before we could respond properly."
"You're correct, Mr. Data," Picard responded tugging at his jacket. "That is why you will be my ace-in-the-hole. I want you at navigations. I'm counting on you and your reflexes to pull the ship out of danger."
"Yes sir," Data said. "But I must inform you that Cylon reflexes may be as fast as my own."
"Let's hope it won't come to that. After recent events, he didn't trust these mechanical creatures anymore than he trusted a Cardassian to give him a back massage. At this point, it took everything he had not to scream in rage at the creatures before him. Guinan had once told him not to give in to his fear and hatred of the Borg. Now he had to apply this same lesson with the Cylons. "Inform the Cylon ship to meet us, but at this specified point," he said, giving the coordinates to navigation."
"Yes, sir."
Onboard the Morning Star, Daemonsoll moved back as its Imperious Leader took its rightful place at the command station.
"Humans. At certain times, so predictable." Imperious Leader formally known as Lucifer, waited patiently as his ship exited the neutral zone vectoring slowly towards the Enterprise-E. "Keep the shields down. Remember we want a clean kill. The main disruptors require three seconds to cycle to full power. Once fired, we want them to stay right where they are when the beams obliterates them." He thought about long dead Baltar. As a human, he would have appreciated this irony or ironies.
"By the command."
The same weapon that crippled the Pegasus was about to be used on the Enterprise-E. Unfortunately, this ship was faster and could move out of the way given the opportunity. Lucifer and his people had discovered that the main disruptor batteries were devastating against stationary and slow moving targets but almost useless against fast moving starships.
Lucifer activated his subspace transceiver. "We are ready. Begin."
