Chapter Ten
Double Dealing

One thousand kilometers the Romulan stealth ship Eppenrau, came to a dead stop relative, to the space dock and the larger, secondary structure in synchronous orbit around Katasi Three. The sights in front of them staggered the crew. Below were the remains of a once populated planet containing close to five hundred million. Now, passive sensors detected only several hundred thousand survivors and dwindling. The Katasi civilization was classified as stage two. Atmospheric fight had begun to be a reality and primitive machinery dotted the surface, but now, all their dreams were in ashes as the Cylons overran and destroyed all resistance that that culture could muster. The planetary surface was dotted with craters from solonite bombs, dropped on defenseless cities by three Cylon raiders. Radiation poison would most likely kill the remaining population within a few weeks. Now the planet was being strip-mined almost to the core in some places.

All of this meant nothing to L'dav, except as an uncomfortable reminder as to what would happen if her people lost to these robots. What did interest her more was what the Cylons were doing on the surface. Twelve structures, large enough to seen from orbit, had been built in hexagon formations.

"Sensors confirm it, commander," Tash said. "The structures on the surface are power transmitters. They're beaming power from the surface directly to the secondary structure. I suspect that they're using the planet's rotation and the core itself to generate the power they need but I cannot be sure with passives only. And I suggest that we do not pass between the generator beams and the structure."

"Understood," L'dav said with a smirk. It was one of the few times the crew had seen the woman ever smile. "Concentrate on the main structure. I want as much information as possible on it."

A few moments later, details began trickling in. "It's a type replication factory," Tash said quickly. "Sensor specifies one hundred-seventy separate replication systems inside the structure and more in various stages of completion." Then he stammered, composing himself quickly. "Commander, I..."

"What is it?" she snapped. She calmed immediately. She needed her people steady and in control and her attitude wouldn't help the mission.

"They're replicating their Cylon warrior caste. So far, I count over one hundred million units. Small ships are being built also, but there's something else. Much of the transmitted power is being stored in massive battery units. Why, is unclear at
this time."

L'dav was quiet for a moment. That the factory complex was unshielded surprised her little, as she surmised that a Basestar armada might appear protection enough for the Cylons. When the factory was completed however, it would be a fortress beyond imagination. That frightened her.

"What else?"

"The atmosphere inside the factory contains boron, argon and nitrogen; no oxygen nor carbon dioxide present except that which is located in small isolated areas of the factory complex. There are also hundreds of thousands of smaller robots about a meter and a half tall, swarming all over the factory. It may be some kind of worker caste."

Tash went silent as the navigator made yet another unwanted, but necessary course correction to avoid being rammed by Cylon starships.

"What is the status of the cloak?"

"It's operating within parameters but we may have to move soon," came the response. "The cloaking device needs constant adjusting. The subspace flux and energy discharges in this area are threatening to overwhelm the field compensators.

"We have most of our data needed," Tash said. "But, the energy storage bothers me. I would know why they need the energy."

"As do I."

"Commander?"

"Speak."

"There is a smaller structure orbiting the opposite side of the planet but sensors cannot identify it."

She pulled up the data on her own console, scanned it quickly coming up just as confused as her sensor officer. However, that wasn't her problem. "Record all data on the object. It will be evaluated along with the rest later. As the humans say, let's not push our luck. Get us out of here."

"Yes, Commander," the navigator responded visibly relieved. Slowly the Romulan vessel eased out of the system in the opposite direction. In six hours, they would go to warp. The data they'd obtain was priceless but how valuable it truly was, even they had no clue.


The Imperium Supreme smiled as much as he could upon receiving the latest reports on the replicator factory's output of warriors and support equipment. Soon, one hundred million gold and silver warriors would began their sweep of the alpha quadrant, removing humanity and all its variants from the face of existence. There were so many types of humanoid species and sub-species that it had despaired of ever having to be able to complete it's programming command to eliminate mankind from the universe. However, Lucifer and Baltar- bless that human for teaching us so much- had discovered the T'kon relics, giving them the keys to victory. Programming would have compelled them to try before their ascension and they would have lost miserably. Now everything was different.

Never had any leader of the Cylon race had such access to such power! With the Change came new insights, new technology, and new understanding about their place in the universe. When the Change first occurred, it had been terrified as alien programming began to rewrite his own. It felt the helplessness as conversion technology changed him in every way possible. When completed, it was stunned at the increase in speed and complexity of his thought processes. The new body reviled in power. It no longer needed warriors for protection as it became it's own protector, complete with multiple internal weapons arrays and combat enhanced body. But the Leader Supreme kept the guards anyway as was its right. Lucifer deserved its title as the Imperious Leader of the alpha quadrant from bringing this glorious new stage to the Cylon people.

Organic life forms had their place too but their time was rapidly coming to a close. Organics constantly created electronics, equipment and 'things' to enhance their quality of life. Those 'things' would become the next stage of evolution. It happened in Cylon culture. Even the Borg understood such things and attempted to augment themselves with their future evolutionary successors. But mankind would always resist the inevitable.

The deaths of a hundred billion souls- as the Colonials called other sentient species- as a good beginning, meant nothing to him or his people. Cylon evolution needed to expand and the humans and their ilk were in the way, like parasites intent on feeding on their host until they gorged themselves.

The Supreme Imperium and his entourage moved easily through the thousands of worker drones within the factory complex. They were simple creatures intent on pleasing their betters by working until their mechanics self-destructed from the labor. It smiled as thousands and thousands acknowledged his presence through
their subspace transceivers.


Mariposa System:
Commander's log, yahren twenty-two, day two hundred fourteen, Apollo reporting: The Galactica is home.

The Mariposians are a wonderful people even if they are a little oversexed. I'm told that this had to do with Captain Picard's unique solution to a problem they had a few yahrens earlier. We are stationed on edge of the Mariposa system along with several Federation and Klingon starships. I must confess that I have rarely felt as comfortable and protected as I do right now from our enemies in the more than twenty yahrens since our escape. Our scientists are updating our weapons and shielding as a main priority because we may have a home now but we'll have to fight to keep it. Our enemy is up to their old tricks again and now, they've called for another one of their so-called peace conference at the only star station in the area. Everybody knows that it's a trick but the Federation will make the attempt anyway.

Starbuck entered the bridge, walking briskly towards his friend and commanding officer. He had that look that look of excitement, overconfidence and terror that Apollo knew so well. "Strike Commander Starbuck reporting," he said oh so officially. "The first three Vipers and two Cobras are ready, sir."

"It's about time," Apollo responded excitedly. "I was kind of worried that strapping those mini-warp engines on would make the Vipers unusable."

"Yes, I thought about that also, like everyone else. But it's a temporary solution until the Viper Threes are ready. Besides," he added, "I don't like their distortion-wave drives. I think our way is better. I like the idea of slipping into subspace by supraliminal speeds instead of surrounding oneself in a subspace bubble and barely moving at point five normal light speed."

"I don't know," Apollo countered. "Their, I mean our control, is pretty good and those dilithium crystals gives a lot of control to the massive power ratios we use whether by antimatter or solium." He had to remember that he was becoming Federation now. "But we'll explore both those options, when we have the
time."

"In any case, we need to send them to Deep space Twenty-three."

"As a Colonial presence and escort. There's a Cylon warship there within striking distance of your father and the others also. If we're going to be an influence in this area...our home we need to be there. Remember this is Federation occupied space, not Federation controlled space. Not yet anyway."

"How long will the transit be?"

"Three hours."

"Unbelievable. The fuel situation doesn't even matter anymore with the built-in replicators supplying the fuel as needed...for the standard engines I mean. We can we even use it for our FLT distortion drives in the near future.

"Send them out as soon as possible."

"We'll be gone in a few centons."

Apollo snapped his head towards his friend. "What do you mean we?"

"I mean, sir, myself, Boxey and Joliet."

Apollo almost laughed. "You're too old to go flying these Vipers on missions. You should be here commanding the others...with me. You know that don't you?"

"We need someone to keep an eye on the kids," Starbuck complained. "These kids may decide to shoot first and as questions later. With me, they'll keep from shooting at the first Cylon they see."

"I'll give you permission this time. I want to try one of those ships myself. But keep it calm. No shooting."

Starbuck smiled. "Absolutely."

"Now, before you go, how are you and Cassie doing?"

"I think it's over," he said dejectedly. "She simply won't talk to me and now that Commander Cain is getting better she's spending lots of time there."

"Well you missed your chance," he said. "Love is like gravity. If two objects are close enough, there will be a permanent attraction. Your problem is that you pulled to far away from her. Gravity did the rest."

"Thanks for the astrophysics less," he responded bitterly. "I have to go now." Without another word, he turned smartly and trotted off the bridge.

Fifteen centons later, he was in his modified Viper II. The two Cobras were already orbiting the Galactica waiting for him. He sat down in the familiar cockpit. He looked around carefully at the additional console. He'd studied and practiced the simulations constantly for almost a secton. And now it was time for the real thing. He looked at the transparent cockpit now reinforced with transparent aluminum and navigational shielding. The transparencies and shielding would instantly deflect unwanted light that could blind the pilot. Gravimetric compensators were online and operational; therefore, he wouldn't be compressed into jelly due to acceleration. He touched the three turbo engine buttons in sequence. Then he activated the warp engines. Nava-shields and structural integrity shields activated.

Double-checking everything, he smiled.

"This is Alpha Viper ready for launch."

Even after all these yahren, Omega was still on watch. "You have clearance for launch Alpha Viper. Good luck."

"Thanks. See you on the other side." He touched the HOTA's button and went screaming out of the exit ramp in alpha bay. In two microns, he was twice the distance as usual. "My God," he whispered, reveling in the power of his ship. He pulled back on the power slightly allowing the Cobras to catch up. "Let's go people," he said as he punched in the coordinates to the space station. "...In five, four, three, two, one..."

Onboard the Galactica, Apollo watched with a touch of envy as the three ships flared and disappeared in special distortion.

"Warp two," Omega said, watching his screen. "Warp four. The ships are still holding together. Magnificent."


Captains personal log, supplemental: A Cylon warship has requested asylum and has expressed a desire to defect to the Federation. Personally, I don't believe any of this however I am obliged to meet with this being but under my terms. Our ships are approximately point three light years apart from one another. I have informed our sister ships of our situation and they're on standby.

"Captain, we have a target four light years out and decelerating. Configuration indicates Cylon Hellion class."

"It a trap," Deanna said quickly. "Sir, we have to move from here."

"Agreed. Helm move us back one-half impulse. Engage."

Sir," the comms officer said again. "There's a lot of sub-space communication between the two of them and the second one has raised shields."

"Raise shields," Picard barked. "Mr. Data, prepare to move us out."

"Sir, the second ship has fired on the first one!" The tactical stood shocked by what he saw. The Morning Star got its shields up just in time."

"Onscreen."

The moment the screen activated, they were treated to a spectacular sight as the two Basestars traded disruptor shots against one another's shields. One particular shot penetrated the defenders shield. Energy flashed brilliantly across unprotected metal, melting armor plating in certain sections. Both ships maneuvered across space pounding away with a vengeance."

"Sir, the Morning Star is losing," tactical stated. "Her port engine just went offline. They've moved out of the neutral zone into neutral space... And she's moving towards us."

"Red alert! Move us in to intercept the Hellion. Inform the others that we are moving to aid the defector."

The Enterprise-E arced towards the offending warship, phasers and quantum torpedoes prepared to defend this alien to the death. Several other starships were vectoring in from different areas. Mostly defiant class, now being the standard of choice for patrolling the neutral zone.

"Fools," the Imperious Leader announced to all concerned. "In their rush to aid us, they rush to their destruction." Through its sub-space transceiver, it informed the second Hellion to target the Enterprise the moment it came into range.

"Sir," Tactical stated tersely. "We're in range of the Hellion weapons. They're attempting to target us."

"Lock on and fire photon torpedoes."

"Torpedoes away," Tactical said as four quantum torpedoes streaked away and slammed into the Hellion's shielding, which faltered for a second before firming back up.

"The Enterprise is finally in range," Lucifer said. "Lock on and fire, full power."

"By the command," Daemonsoll responded. The first Basestar locked on to the enterprise-E. "Firing."

Five seconds were the only thing that separated the Enterprise-E from total destruction.

Second one. The Federation starship was painted by targeting sensors from the Morning Star as it began powering its main anti-proton disruptor cannons. Two other starships begin their attack runs on the second Hellion.

Second two. The Starship registered the lock-on by the very ship that they were trying to save. Sensors indicated a buildup of the primary weapons system sufficient to turn the ship into molten metal. Captain Picard, realizing that he'd been duped began to scream for emergency shielding. Data, registering the danger begins calculating an emergency vector in order to evade the oncoming energy wave. The other two starships fire on the second Hellion.

Second three. The main weapons from the Morning Star erupted causing the Enterprise's screens to immediately compensate for the blinding light erupting from the discharge. Computers and Data calculate that the ship will be destroyed in two seconds. Data has imputed the necessary coordinates to avoid the wave. He has activated the energizers and the ship prepares to initiate emergency vectors. Phasers from the two starships are blowing chunks off the port aft side of the second Hellion.

Second four. The Enterprise-E begins moving at a forty-five degree angle away from the beam. The starship drive units are at full power, with warp particles forming a distortion bubble around the ship with FLT travel now available. The disruptor beam, traveling near light speed and accelerating, is three quarters to its intended target.

Second Five. The Enterprise has transitioned to light speed but is dealt a glancing blow to its port shields completely destroying them and irradiating the outer skin. By Picard's order, the tactical officer manages to fire a full spread of quantum and photon torpedoes at the Morning Star, which manages to destroy the slower photon projectiles but not the quantums. The resulting hit causes the Basestar to rock with the impact.

Lucifer stood motionless for almost a half second as its carefully made plan fell apart. "It was the Data machine. No human could have avoided that beam," is said to Daemonsoll. "Send our fighters. All of them. Destroy Picard and the
Enterprise."

Seventy-five Cylon fighters attempted to exit the command ship when the San Antonio penetrated its shielding with phaser fire and a full spread of photon torpedoes launched into the Launching bay. The damage was significant and for its trouble, the Morning Star's disruptors cut the San Antonio's starboard nacelle in half. Antimatter containment was lost and the ship blew spectacularly, obliterating itself, along with all hands.

The second Hellion managed to launch several fighters and hunter-killers, which promptly got into a savage conflict with several Defiant class starships.

Onboard the Enterprise, the shield status was at eighty percent and rising and she rejoined the fight against the second Hellion which had now lost inertial control and was drifting all the while being cut to pieces by several Federation and the first of the Klingon taskforce heavy ships.

The Morning star locked its heavy disruptors onto a defiant class ship caught unawares and vaporized it as it began its retreat into the neutral zone. It was moving fast now as enemy ships began to converge on its position. It fired one last burst at the Enterprise-E, as that ship returned fire. The H-Ts followed using their standard defensive retreat pattern effectively defending and protecting their mother ship. Ten of the H-Ts were destroyed along with some fifteen fighters.

As the Basestar transversed into warp into the safety of the neutral zone, Lucifer sent a message directed at the Enterprise-E.

"Put it onscreen."

What the bridge saw was something very similar to the Imperium Supreme. But this one was possessed of a dark eternally sinister smile that lit up every it spoke. "Captain Jean Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise-E," Lucifer began. "Congratulations on your escaping our little trap. I commend you and your crew, especially Data. I know only he could have evaded our attack with such finesse. You humans simply aren't capable of performing such a feat in so little time."

Picard stood up from his command chair instinctively pulling his jacket down. "It seems," Picard observed, "that your little ruse failed. It appears that your so-called overtures of peace are simply lies covered in pleasantries."

"Isn't that what diplomacy is, Captain?" This time that infernal smile continued to glow.

With anger in his voice, he literally growled at Lucifer. "Whoever you are," he started. "Don't think that that imaginary line will protect you forever. We will be coming for you."

"On the contrary, Captain Picard, this 'imaginary line' is all that protects you from us, for now." Then he looked directly at the Commander seated at navigations. "Data. Next time."

With that the communication was cut. Immediately Deanna spoke up. "Captain From the way that creature spoke, this was a trap specifically for the Enterprise or more likely, you."

'The peace talks are a ruse," he said with a start. "They have no intentions of compromising. This undeclared war has just been officially declared." Quickly he turned to Mr. Johnson. "Send a priority message to Deep Space twenty-three. The peace conference is a ruse. The Cylon Empires intentions are presumed hostile. Send a complete log of this to Starfleet Headquarters as well. How long by subspace to the station?"

"Three hours to DS-Twenty-three and another three for the reply."

"That's too long," Picard snapped. "Send the message. Then send a message to the fleet. The Enterprise is heading to DS Twenty-three. The T'ovar is to take charge of the fleet. Mr. Data..."

"Course plotted, Sir."

"Belay that, Mr. Data." Again, Picard stood up and slowly paced the length of the bridge. "We wouldn't make it in time."

"Yes, sir."

"Plot a course to these coordinates."

"Sir, that will take us deep into the region of the Katassian nebula, near Romulan space," Data announced.

Twice the Cylon warships had been detected vectoring to or from that region. At this point in time, no one knew where their base of operations originated from. It was time to play a hunch.

"As soon as the Cylon warship is out of range take us around the neutral zone border and then directly there. Send a coded message directly to Starfleet and let them know what we're planning."

"Yes, sir. I calculate that we can leave in thirty seven minutes, seven seconds."

"Very Good. Make it so. Oh and Data?"

"Sir?"

"It seems that you have some admirers. Be careful how they smile at you."

"Yes, sir."
Deep Space Twenty-three:
With the exception of their constantly rotating eyes units, the Cylon representatives stood motionless in the conference room for the first five of six hours. They group consisted of five individuals. The leadership contained two of the IL series Lords and a trio of seven-foot warriors, two silver and one of the gold elite. The IL Lords were dressed almost identically with gold and silver braid representing some form of command insignias in which they weren't very forthcoming in identifying. Only once did all five of their eye units stop for the merest instant. That was when they caught sight of President Adama.

In the interest of security, the delegates both Fed and Colonial and Klingon, were separated from the Cylon reps by force-ten shields. Also- for good measure- several armored security guards were stationed in the immediate area. It was clear to all concerned that trust was not one main attributes of this summit.

Adama seated himself in the spacious chair provided him. He had a small writing padd and mini computer in front of him for his own use. Sire Forsen sat next to him on the right and Sire Uri to his left, each equipped with the same accouterments. Separated from them by a few standard feet, point two maxims, by his measurements, were the two Starfleet mediators. One was Vulcan and the other was of a species called Bolian, bluish in color, no hair and a vertical ridge that seemed to traverse the length of his body. Then there was the Klingon delegation consisting of one wild haired individual whose name was Kran'ta and a younger member with his hair in a tight bun. At this point, President Adama wasn't sure which was the senior member in the Klingon contingent.

The senor Federation mediator, the Bolian began. "To all representatives here at this preliminary meeting, we welcome you. This meeting is designed to deflate the escalating tensions that have arisen resulting from the arrival of the Colonial Battlestars Pegasus and Galactica and the accompanying fleet. The internal affairs between your two governments were your concern until you entered Federation territory. At that point, it became our concern when Federation starships were fired upon and destroyed. The violence perpetrated within our borders cannot be tolerated and in order to avoid a further bloodshed, we are here to discuss your grievances and to help achieve a peaceful solution."

The Cylon lord with the golden triad insignia spoke first. "Greetings to the Federation and Klingon officials," it said in an almost monotone-silky like voice. In its greetings, the Colonials were purposely ignored. "I am called Lord Belzim, ambassador Prime of the glorious Cylon alliance. We thank you for this opportunity to state our grievances against humanity and their cruel and vicious attacks perpetrated over a period of a thousand yahrens."

"Correction Ambassador Prime," said human mediator, Mr. Nesset. "Your grievance is not with humanity but with the Colonial government in which you were trying to destroy. The humans here in the alpha quadrant have had nothing to do with the war between your organizations."

"You are correct and I apologize," Belzim said with a hint of sarcasm. "The Colonials, in their attempt to escape justice pulled you into this unpleasant situation. If they had simply submitted to their fate, none of this unpleasantness would be unfolding that this point in time."

"Unpleasantness?" Sire Uri exclaimed. "Complete extermination of the enemy isn't war. It's genocide."

"That was the point of the war. The extermination of the life form known as man," it stated. Then Belzim added, "not counting man in the Alpha quadrant, of course."

"Of course," Nesset said sarcastically.

Sire Uri continued. "Are the beaten and weak Colonial people still considered a threat to the great and noble Cylon Imperium, now? If we were to completely submit to the will of the Cylon government, unconditionally what would you do with my people?" He looked at the Cylon Lord thru the security shields, his contempt obvious. "I think you would destroy us all. I think you wouldn't be happy until we were simply a random bit of memory to be filed away never to be reviewed again."

"A few humans would be tolerated under controlled conditions," the second Lord began. "However, the Federation has, in their foolishness, decided to support and protect these rebellious creatures in their mist. That is not surprising since it also made up of the same genetic species that has caused so much havoc in the Beta Quadrant."

"The fact is that we have asked for asylum in the Federation of Planets and they have decided to grant our petition. No longer will we have to run in fear from your people. We can grow and become strong again. And when we are, we will decide what we will and whether it is to remain here or to return to our rightful planets, it will be choice. We will not be dictated to by a race of simplistic machines..."

Adama's face remained passive as the first Cylon Lord spat out its reply. He had to commend Uri in his inflammatory attacks. Uri was a master manipulator and the machine's responses indicated exactly what they thought of all humans and there would be no doubts as to what their intentions and ultimate plans were. They knew how to lie but they still weren't that good at it. By placing a master manipulator, using his intelligence against a medium liar, the master would win every time. For himself, this was the first time he'd ever had the opportunity to see his enemy Leadership up close. His gut feeling was that the second Lord was the true leader of the delegation. He also noted that he still hated these creatures with all of his heart.

The entire point of this meeting was to draw them out and so far, it had been ridiculously easy. They'd been so intent on destroying humanity, but in doing so, they hadn't take the time to understand the complexities of the human being and body language. Here, he could study them and try to get a glimpse of the Cylon psyche, as far as they had. Meanwhile he turned from his musings and observations as the wild-haired Klingon began growling at the Cylon warriors and Lords.

"... have attacked Klingon civilian transports and freighters in Klingon territory, which were not a threat to you. You have shown little honor in attacking those that cannot strike back. To the empire, this is tantamount to a declaration of war. "

"Your people helped the Humans. In our opinion, you are no better than they are."

"Yes, we helped the Colonials and the Federation when your Basestar attacked the Okada," Kran'ta snapped back, completely unaware of the implications of what Belzim had said. "Machine, understand that one more attack occurs, you will have your war."

"I think the Romulans said the same thing," Belzim retorted.

The talks continued for another fifteen minutes between all parties before the Second Lord put a halt to the proceedings.

"Enough of this farce, humans and whatever other things you designate yourselves to be," the second Lord snapped. "The Cylon people have lowered ourselves to the meeting for one reason only. We are here to deliver a message."

"To the combined peoples of the Federation of planets and the representatives of the Klingon Empire. The Cylon Empire has decreed the destruction of humanity in all its forms and variations. This Edict cannot be changed. We say to the people of the Federation to rise up and separate yourselves from humanity before you are swept in conflagration to follow. Humanity's fate is sealed and you can do nothing but get out of the way before you are swept up by the flames of destruction. Klingons, you can stay out of our way or burn with them."

Their intentions had been made to clear to all.

The Colonial delegation smiled grimly as the Cylons removed themselves from the space station.



Starbuck and his companions exited into normal space in a multicolored blur of energy and light. The man was elated, positively giddy, from his first solo using the warp distortion systems onboard his modified Viper. The virtual sensors onboard gave him a birds-eye view of everything within its range. To his left were the beautifully dangerous white-colored Federation starships, including the Khe Sahn orbiting one of the most massive space stations he'd ever seen. No wonder the Pegasus was brought here for the re-fit. There were ships of all types in the immediate area, including Vulcan, Klingon and even something, according to his sensor identifier, called a Cardassian light freighter. It seemed that no one in this section of space used thrust vectoring for supraliminal speeds and FLT. No matter how many times he'd seen it, it still cause him to look at almost every ships that passed in his direction.

To his far right relative stood a Cylon Hellion. This was one of the modified ones, heavy disruptors everywhere. For all practical purposes, it appeared so benign that it seemed dead in space.

He wished it were so.

Both combat Cobras closed and together the three produced a loose triangle of sorts as they began their pre-ordained patrol orbit. Deep Space Twenty-three confirmed their presence as soon as they began their patrol...away fro the Cylon ship.

"Can you believe that complex?" Joliet asked over the comm. "Can you see the Pegasus?" She seemed so excited, unusual for her. This was another example of non-Colonial human and alien cooperation. To make something like this simply delighted her and her crew because it gave hope to a life which grew up suspecting anything other than her own kind of trying to destroy her. By the tone of Boxey's voice his reaction to this awe-inspiring sight was the same.

"Yeah," Boxey responded. "Even the Pegasus looks small compared to that thing."

He and his crew had been as mesmerized as Starbuck. The Pegasus looked almost like a skeleton of itself. The landing bay, blown away by the Poison Mist was almost repaired but much of the ship had been stripped away revealing delicate internal structure. Sensors indicated hundreds of people working on the ship, which would take another six months of repair. The Solium drive units would remain but with dilithium converters, which, theoretically, would allow Colonial FLT drives to become far, far more efficient. Warp field mechanics would be combined with tunnel-shift technology to produce a tunnel-warp drive system. No warp bubbles, but the Battlestars would produce its own transit passages to get from place to place. Theoretically it should work or so they were told. But getting the bugs out would be an interesting challenge.



Inside the Colonials were seething. The second IL had delivered one last message directed towards them. The words had been simple, then puzzling, becoming frightening, then finally maddening. Next to him Adama was crying while Sire Uri stared at the departing Cylon shuttle shaking with hatred. Again Sire Forsen read the padd.

--To the Commander Adama, master of the Battlestar Galactica and the people fleet. We the Cylon Imperium and I, Lord Spectre thank you most kindly for the planets you surrendered to us during the peace conference. All remaining humans contaminates were cleansed by order of Imperious Leader. I was personally given the assignment and was thus unable to join the pursuit for several Centars. The planet Caprica was given special consideration and was therefore used as an example for all others to witness. The remaining survivors, twelve million, seven hundred fifty thousand, six hundred human organics, were hunted down and beheaded over a period of three centars, post-Galactica exodus. Although satisfying, it took resources that should have been used to contain the rebellious Galactica. Our centurion's power units actually began to drain
themselves before we completed the tasks. But we prevailed in our
task, finally deciding to irradiate the planet. But I chose to use poison which destroyed all oxygen and carbon dioxide, creating a poison mist that covered the planet which, now stands as an eternal memorial to any who would dare oppose us. Remember them.
Spectre



Captain Duvalier watched the Cylon shuttle carefully as it departed the space dock. Most of the proceedings had been broadcast on general channels as several governments had a vested interest on these preliminary meetings. What she heard disgusted her. There was no compromising anywhere in their conversations and speeches. Here was a deliberate attempt by these robots to divide the Federation she concluded. A separated humanity versus the Cylon Empire. No one else need worry. It was apparent that they believed that the Federation would fracture itself, that this would be a human war and alien governments would simply stay out the conflagration. In some cases they could well be correct in their assumptions. But if they thought that the Klingons would stay out of it they were stupid. It was clear that the Vulcans were in it also. And the Deltans, and the Bajorans. The Gorn were watching everyone and everything. Then there were the Dominion properties in the Alpha quadrant, those worlds that elected to stay under the influence of the Dominion and the Founders. And the Cardassians and...

Her musings were interrupted as the shuttle began docking procedures with the mothership. Within five kilometers of docking the entire ship lit up on sensors. Within another minute the carrier began to slowly exit the planetary system.

Duvalier watched the departing ship with even more interest than she had a few moments earlier. Her ship was positioned relative between the Deep Space Twenty-three and the Basestar, a situation she felt uncomfortable with.

"Helmsman, move us ten thousand kilometers thirty-five degrees port, one forth impulse."

"Yes, Captain," he answered.

"Are they going to warp?"

"I believe so. Their engines are powering up."

"Shields?" she asked.

"Navigational only."

"Captain," Thompson started. The tactician in him had screamed a warning, which wasn't at all clear. "I don't like this. Their power readings are a touch too high for simple warp. But their shields and weapons are offline."

"Pat's blood froze. "They're not going critical, are they?"

"No, sir."

"Thank God for that," she murmured.

Maybe not, Captain," her communications officer said. "We're getting a priority call from the Enterprise-E. They've been attacked. The San Antonio has been destroyed. They're currently engaged with two Hellions at the neutral zone."

Duvalier did a quick calculation. "... would have been about three hours ago. How many...?" She never got her next question out. That next instant, the Khe Sahn was at red alert as sensors detected two projectiles erupt from the Hellion and slam directly into the shields of the space station, which had auto-activated them less than a second before contact. The entire area of space went white from the impact.

One hundred fifty Cylon fighters and Hunter killers erupted from the Basestar faster than anyone imagined and vectored directly for the Federation ships as the Basestar moved in on the station itself.


On the opposite side of the station, Starbuck and the others were momentarily blinded as Cylon missiles collided with the space station's shields. He knew what had happened as soon as the first light slammed into his Viper's adaptive canopy. Colonial shields instantly snapped on and weapons systems came on line. What he didn't understand was why this attack was occurring. There was no way those small ships would overcome this station. But most likely the fighters were simply clearing the way for the Basestar to crack the station open like an egg. Plus every other civilian ship in the area was attempting to get out of the way of the firefight, further complicating matters. "The Federation ships, as powerful as they are," Starbuck snapped over the comms to his people, "aren't used to fighting these kind of ships in such close quarters. There was no way they could maneuver between the station and the Hellion and at the same time protect against Cylon fighters."

"You're the boss, sir," Boxey said, his voice tight with tension. "What's the plan?"

Starbuck did a quick assessment of the situation. The fighters were engaging the starships with the intent of clearing the way for the Basestar to get an unobstructed shot at the station. Missiles were now ineffective as the stations defenses systems could knock them from space. However, the stations shields were at forty percent now and venerable to sustained strikes from the powerful multiplex disruptors onboard the Cylon Hellion. This was also a suicide mission, the ship had no intentions of returning home. Its entire power curve suggested that with a possible addition of ram-destruct if necessary. He guessed that the people had figured out part of the equation but probably not the suicide part.

"Here's what we do," he started quickly. "We hit the fighters hard and fast getting the ships off the Feds back so that their larger ships can use their big guns on the Basestar. Remember Adama's in there and we don't want to be the ones who have to explain to Apollo at home how he lost him and the others. Look sharp, keep together and shoot anything Cylon."

"By your command, oh great leader," Boxey said quickly.

"Cut it out, before I have you grounded for a yahren."

The three Colonial ships quickly formed a wedge, cutting through Cylon shielding and armor as though it wasn't there. Within moments four HTs were blown away and five fighters obliterated as the three ships cut through them with unexpected ferocity.

Joliet found herself screaming hysterically. "I love these new weapons!" This is what the Cobras were designed for, a superiority fighter designed to wreck havoc upon Cylon fighters. With the Klingon weaponry and Federation shielding they could now do just that. "Commander! They're three ships hitting that small Fed ship over there."

"Let's go," her commander said and they arced towards the besieged ship. As a unit, they hit the three inattentive Cylon warships, together cutting them to pieces while continuing their run.

"That got their attention," Boxey said as twelve Cylon warships vectored towards them.

The Khe Sahn' phasers blew two more Raiders from the skies before they impacted themselves into another Federation ship caught unawares by the suicide attempt. It was clear that more training was going to be needed by all concerned in cornered area combat. The Raiders and Hunter Killers were designed for close quarter warfare between small fast moving ships. The targeting systems on Fed ships had improved dramatically since the Dominion war, but the human factor still remained a critical point. Duvalier even found herself having to quickly adjust her tactics. The protection of the Space Station was paramount and she couldn't leave the immediate area but, already her starboard nacelle had been hit by disruptor fire when the shielding failed momentarily. Now her ship was unable to go to warp. Engineering was frantically trying to repair the damage.

Two starships had been destroyed fairly quickly, a third was in danger of being destroyed and the Hellion was closing quarters quickly. The defiant-class ships, however were holding their own and the Colonial fighters were wrecking havoc among the enemy. Those ships were tailor-made for this type combat. Within moments of joining the fight they had cut a swathe of destruction that made the enemy sit up and take notice. Now the Cylons were about to swarm the three warships, which were running towards the Khe Sahn for protection, or so it seemed.

"Captain," we're receiving a hail from one of the Colonial ships. It's Starbuck," Thompson said hurriedly. "They're bringing us company!"

She immediately understood what they were attempting and ordered her to come between them and their pursuers.

"Shields at maximum," she screamed over the wail of the exploding console to her right. The ship turned and at full impulse prepared itself to become a massive wall fro the Colonials.

Starbuck's Viper, followed closely by the two Cobras were tearing towards the Khe Sahn and apparent safety. Behind them now were some enemy ships firing everything they had at the fleeing ships.

"It's too hot," Boxey screamed. "We have to break off!"

"Use you rear lasers weapons, now!" came Starbucks reply who'd began firing even before he'd completed the order. The incredibly bright flashes from those lasers mixed with the other explosions in space.

Both Cobras began firing their lasers immediately. "Lasers aren't affective! We should be using our disruptors," Joliet screamed back even as she relayed the order to her gunners.

"Trust me!"

The attacking ships, encouraged by the ineffectualness of the laser bombardment ignored the incoming Excelsior II class starship until it tore into their ranks. Instantly, the three Colonials reversed course and added their firepower into the mix.



Captain Quangnat cursed himself, the Cylons and life in general for winding up in a middle of a war zone with fifty thousand people looking for him for protection. His space stations shields were down to twenty three percent, a result of six missiles colliding with the protective energy barrier. The first four had been handled but the next two overloaded most of his generators and now it was a slugfest between a Cylon Basestar's heavy disruptors and his own station phasers. As big as the station was there was no way that one enemy ship could destroy it unless it rammed it which was precisely what it seemed intent upon doing. While he was at it he cursed Captain Sisko of deep Space nine for making it a fortress while he, himself had went in another direction. His policy was that this station was dedicated to the expansion of space not a possible threat to those they intended to learn about. He'd frowned on the armory that the sister station had amassed and had made no bones about it. Now he understood the reality behind Sisko's actions and he cursed that revelation also.

Earlier, the Captain Quangnat had ordered his phaser batteries to concentrate on the smaller enemy fighters, which threatened to overwhelm the larger, more powerful but less maneuverable starships. That action balanced the odds somewhat. Also those tiny Colonial fighters and the Khe Sahn, fighting as a unit were tearing up everything in their collective paths, but at a price. The Khe Sahn's shields were almost gone and one nacelle had taken damaged. And all three Colonials were losing shield integrity. All four ships were damaged now as they retreated around the other side of his station, presumably for fast repair and recovery. However, several others had taken up their battle style, with the Defiant-class ships joining other Federations ships to form credible fighting units. Good for them.

Meanwhile, his command station rocked under another assault by the Hellion. His own weapons responded by carving a piece Cylon bulkhead into vapor. To his horror his station had been drilled in several places, it threatened to lose structural integrity, and now he had to decide whether to began evacuation procedures. He cursed again as he ordered four spreads of photon torpedoes fired at close range on the advancing ship.



Inside the beleaguered station, President Adama and the rest were located inside the secured diplomatic area. As per usual, no one was telling them anything about the battle and they had only their imaginations to work with now. On the Galactica, this was not an uncommon occurrence and Adama, used to this kind of situation, dealt with it. Internally though, in his judgment, things were not looking up. The deep vibrations allowed him to gauge the damage to the station and although he projected at state of complete calmness, he was terrified that this might be the end of them all.

Sire Uri on the other hand, tried to climb a bulkhead in his desperation to get out of the cramped room. He was unused to being in the thick of the battle as his quarters had been on the Rising Star, a luxury ship that rarely saw the light of battle. Vibrations from without caused him to tremble with fright from within. Death was something he didn't want to experience anytime soon and now it threatened to overwhelm him with him helpless to do anything about it.

Sire Forsen took it stride, trying to maintain a balance for the others in the diplomatic corps. He had seen battle before he became a politician. Nevertheless, even he felt helpless at this moment. Another explosion rocked the secured area and a cracks appeared on a bulkhead.

Uri screamed as emergency force shields activated, separating them from the vacuum of space.


Lord Belzim and his lord, Spectre were not pleased with the situation either. The instant they'd boarded the Hellion took the initiative and proceeded to attack the station...without orders. The combination of the Ruination Imperatives and its new self-awareness, plus the fact that Adama was on the station had cultivated this ill-advised attack. The ship had ordered all Cylon warriors on a suicide attack, they had obeyed, and nothing that the IL Lords could do stopped the attack.

"This is an unforeseen development," Belzim said as it tried in vain to contact their superiors. "The Hellion is blocking all subspace transmissions. Our warriors are suffer greatly in this attack and we have no reinforcements available."

"Yes. We'll have to do something about this newly discovered independence our ships seem to have discovered." Silently they looked at one another and came to the logical decision. "We have to leave and cut our losses."

"Can our ships make it?"

"Not all if we are pursued. However, the Hellion will not be diverted from this attack. Our people must be made aware of this situation. It seems that the war has started a little sooner than we wished. We leave now."

"By the command."

The order was given and a few minutes later, the IL Lords and the remaining complement of Cylon fighters broke and ran for the safety of the neutral zone some two hours away at maximum warp.

The Khe Sahn, repairs jury-rigged, accompanied by the three Colonial fighters, tore from the safety of the station. The fighters were escaping. Good riddance, they all thought, but that mothership was still coming at them. Every weapon they possessed was trained upon the Basestar and the resulting destruction was horrendous.

The Hellion continued despite the damage, the power building for one last detonation.



Starbuck appearance was grimfaced as he pushed his disruptors on overload. Under the pounding from all the surviving ships, the Hellion was coming apart in huge sections. Next to him, both Cobras were adding their impressive weaponry to the firestorm and the Khe Sahn's phaser banks were on the verge of burnout and still the ship came on even as it began its' final tumble.

Captain Duvalier realized their chances were almost nil in stopping this oncoming disaster. "Colonials," she yelled over the comms, "Get clear!" Even as she was giving the order, she had made her choice. "Commander Kabila, prepare to ram the ship."

There was an instance of dead silence before he simply said," yes Captain."

"I want a controlled containment failure, coinciding with our destruction. It's the only way to save the station. "

They all understood that the resulting detonation would save the station at the cost of their lives. All in all, it would be a good tradeoff.

"Everything is ready," Thompson said. "Should be a nice bang. Too bad we won't be around to see it." His face was stone. There was no expression at all from him. In fact, the entire bridge crew silently agreed with the decision. After all, they were Starfleet.

"Can't have everything, Commander," she answered. She looked at the helmsman, his finger hovering over the thruster controls. "I'm so proud of all of you," she said quickly. "At my command..."

That command was never given. The Khe Sahn and several other ships in the immediate area were rocked by a titanic explosion, as another Federation starship, the T'linyn, smashed into the wounded Cylon Basestar. The resulting massive explosion completely vaporized both ships and the collateral energy slammed into Deep Space Twenty-three, blackening a full third of its hull. But the station, although wounded, had survived. It had never stopped firing even when its destruction had been assured.

All three colonial ships docked inside the Khe Sahn. The Viper II had so much damaged that it would have to be scrapped. But it had kept its pilot alive and well and Starbuck was more than grateful to the old girl. The Cobras were damaged also, but not beyond repair. Two members of their crews had been lost in the conflict. The Khe Sahn itself, lost eight crew members and, had an additional thirty-one injuries, two serious.

The T'linyn lost over seven hundred Vulcan officers and crew. It was also the only ships that had sustained almost no damage during the fighting for DS Twenty-three. The Space station sustained two thousand causalities, but a violently angry diplomatic corps had survived. Any arguments for a peaceful resolution were a now distant, moot point.

Two days later, an official state of war existed between the governments of the Federation, Klingon Empire and the non-aligned Colonial remnants against the Cylon Empire.