On the planet Mariposa, Commander Cain was feeling fit enough to travel for the first time in months. The horrible burns and subsequent pain he suffered from, a result of the Pegasus fire had disappeared through the wonders of Federation medicine. And although Cassie, who was now his constant companion, wanted him to rest a little more, even she couldn't justify him being kept planet-bound. When the man wanted to see the Galactica and then the Pegasus refit-even as it was now undergoing its shakedown cruise-in that order, few people had the courage to say no to the still-living legend. It was clear to everyone who saw him that he wanted to command again but to put it simply, he was too old now. The Pegasus belonged to his daughter Sheba now, nevertheless, he could provide some advice to her and he intended to do just that.
A shuttle was waiting to take him to the Galactica where she and her husband were. Also he wanted to see some of the improvements including the updated weapons and propulsion systems that claimed to be able to take on an Extreme-class Basestar. And he wanted to see the New Viper Threes, just coming online and the sensor array and…
The spaceport was small but growing. There was a well laid out area for the land-based military shuttles and fighters complete with heavy ground based weaponry designed to protect the entire region.
When Cain first saw it he laughed in approval. "I wished we had this on Caprica and the other colony worlds," he said to Cassie as he strapped himself into his couch.
"It wouldn't have made a difference if we weren't ready for them," Cassie responded bitterly. Even after all those years past, the memories festered like an open wound.
"What's past is past," he said. "Speaking of which, have you seen your boyfriend?"
"Not since he got back from New Halana," she answered with indifference. "But it doesn't matter. He's not part of my life now, you are."
"You make a old man smile," he answered, flushing slightly. "Besides, you deserve someone better than him, you truly do. If he didn't realize how special you were after all these yahrens, if he couldn't commit to you, then he didn't deserve the woman he said he loved."
At least five people had said exactly the same thing to her in the last two centons.
"That's the general consensus," came her answer. The truth hurt.
"Well Starbuck, you had your chance," Cain mused as the shuttle took off. "Let's see what an old man can do," he whispered to Cassie.
"Men," she whispered to the wind.
The transport shuttle achieved orbit easily and began its vector towards the Battlestar Galactica located almost a quarter light yahren out. As they pulled close, Cain could see besides her, floating in the distance, at least three of those Klingon ships and one of those almost white looking Federation battle cruisers.
Good, he thought. The more the merrier. If those Cylon death machines tried to attack this system they'd be in the fight of their lives.
"Cassie, do you know anything about the ship called Voyager?" he asked Cassie. "Have you seen it? Is it really as small as I've heard?"
She could hear the contempt dripping in his voice and she was not pleased. "It was one of their small ships that took on a modified Hellion Basestar."
"It lost," he stated, coldly.
"It did better than the Pegasus," she retorted viciously.
Her response was hostile, far more so than he had expected. Obviously he'd hit a sore point.
"Okay Cassie," he said startled by her defensive stance towards the Earth ship. "I didn't mean-"
The shuttle bounced once, then again more violently. The passengers felt rather than heard the slight tearing of a bulkhead near the back of the ship. The pilot was on the comms stating that they had an emergency. From what Cain overheard, the ship had encountered some sort of energy field that reacted very badly to the shuttles engines. The entire shuttle went dark as the pilot yelled for everyone to get into the evacuation pods.
Panicked for Cassie, Cain shoved her and another passenger into the second life pod. With four already inside he pressed the release-launch sequence and went for the first pod ignoring Cassie's screams which faded quickly as the pod door slammed shut. His bones creaked and his muscles ached as he raced towards the other pod.
Onboard the Galactica, Apollo and his wife indeed the entire bridge crew were in a panic. The shuttle was breaking up quickly and only one of the two escape pods had launched so far. Scanners had detected at least three more people inside the shuttle. But the scans were breaking up as though something was interfering with them. If that were true then the newly installed transporters might not be able to be used to save them.
"Transporter room! You have to do it now!" Sheba's screams echoed throughout the bridge. "Hurry!" She couldn't lose her father, not now!
"We're transporting now!" Seconds later the transporter chief was shouting. "I got all three of them!"
For a few moments they could hear the transporter crew yelling joyfully, which ceased abruptly.
"Captain, uh, could you come down here?" His voice reeked to confusion and fear.
"Oh my God! The transporter failed!" That was the only thing either of them could think of.
Sheba almost fainted in terror for her father. Moments later they both entered the newly built transporter room and stopped absolutely stunned by what they saw.
"I don't know what happened," the transporter officer said. His mouth was open even though he could think of nothing to say.
"Daddy?"
Cain looked at himself, at them and then himself once again.
"Oh, frack. I think I like these matter integrators," he murmured. Loudly: "What happened? What about the people in the escape pod?"
"I have no idea," the transporter officer said. After a moments checking: "the escape pod is okay. But-I'm going to have to call Starfleet about this."
The officer was wide eyed. Never in his imagination had he thought that something like this could have occurred. The implications were incredible.
Next to Cain were the pilot and co-pilot sitting on the transporter pads. Both were about two yahrens old and fully aware of what had happened to them. In his shock he realized that he was now about five years younger than his daughter. He was a young man-well forty-ish anyway, again. He was full of vigor and strength. He felt powerful again. He could fight again. He hoped this was permanent.
"I'm back," he whispered. "The old war daggit is back. Won't Adama be surprised? Won't Cassie be surprised! I'm younger than she is now!"
Q clapped his hands and then his son's back.
"Very good, my son, even though you cut it close."
"I wanted it to feel real," he protested. "They needed a sense of danger. Cain likes dangerous situations!"
Q examined Cain once again. The change was permanent. The others could be restored since their patterns had been saved in the transporter buffers. But Cain was another story. He had been transported only once and that buffer pattern hadn't been stored.
"Let's see how Iblis handles this," he said to his son. "Time to go."
Both disappeared in a quiet flash.
USS BOREALIS: AMBASSADOR CLASSON PATROL NEAR THE KLINGON BORDER:
Captain Nashta got up from the Big Chair as he called it, walked across and gave the pre-occupied Ensign the signed reports. The embarrassed woman blushed heavily, took the reports and exited the bridge. He then went back to his seat. The fact that Nashta, a Betazoid, was Captain was somewhat unique as the Betazoid home world was a matriarchal society, with the males usually not obtaining such a position of authority. He was proud of his stature and he proud of his part in the Dominion War. With his ship, he had helped liberate and rid his home world of the brutal and vicious Jem'Hadar shock-troopers that had enslaved his people for almost a year. He felt that part of his success lay in the fact that much of his crew were themselves Betazoids, along with a smattering of Vulcans and intuitive humans. Working together, they kept themselves and the ship alive when many others had been lost. He considered himself aggressive and tough with a no nonsense attitude towards potential enemies. Even after the war, his attitude hadn't changed, especially after he witnessed the carnage inflected by the Dominion dog-soldiers on his and various other worlds.
Now his vessel tracked a fairly large Klingon freighter convoy moving slowly towards its home, some three parsecs distant. Even after almost a hundred years past, when the Klingons 'accidentally' blew up their moon Praxis, they needed vital supplies of exotic medicines, special equipment and containment systems for the new anti-matter generator systems orbiting their planets.
In the last two months, four of these newly formed convoys had been attacked by Cylon Raiders fairly deep within Klingon and Federation territories. The Klingons were incensed and threatened to attack known Cylon outposts- even if they weren't yet prepared for a prolonged fight.
The Klingons had several warships in close proximity, as did the Federation. Even now though, the border would not be breeched unless there was an actual attack. The Klingons protected their own.
"Anything yet?" he asked Kilenna, the sensors officer, a touch of boredom evident in his voice.
"Yes, sir," came her answer, somewhat to the Captain's surprise. "It's a small target. Two Cylon H-Ks and three Raiders."
"Only three?" Curious. "Are the Klingons aware of the target."
Stupid question, he realized.
"Yes, sir. The lead Bird-of-prey is vectoring in. The second is tracking and beginning to follow its partner."
Both warships sped up firing their disrupters as soon as they were in range. The Cylon ships split up immediately, all five attempting to swarm the first Klingon ship before it could cloak.
Its shields flared brightly as anti-photon disrupters attempted to rip them apart. The second Klingon fired and vaporized two of the smaller Raiders in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure off of its sister ship. The H-Ks continued their attack on the first Bird-of-prey, slicing deeply into the starboard nacelle. Crippled, the small ship moved off for repairs being chased by a remaining Raider, not relieving the pressure on the beleaguered ship for a moment.
Meanwhile the two heavier Cylon warships locked horns with the second Bird-of prey.
Two large Klingon battle cruisers materialized between their wounded partner and the raider, easily blasting both the Raider and the two H-Ks into vapor.
"Oh, that was too easy," Nashta's second in command said. "That was a waste of good material."
"It seems like some Cylon big head messed up," Kilenna thought to her Captain.
As a Betazoid it was so much easier to communicate naturally. But a second later, she was stunned beyond comprehension.
"Emergency alert!"
Nashta and the crew were just as shocked at the sight of two Hellion class Basestars now de-cloaked, tearing into both the unprepared warships and the convoy using anti-matter missiles with complete abandonment. Cylon fighters of various types spilled out with the intentions of butchering the few ships that survived the initial assault. In moments it was clear that the bulk of the Cylon small ships were targeting the nearby Klingon colony of Kast'ka. They were already going to warp and would be there within minutes.
"Inform Starfleet that the Cylons have developed cloaking technology and we are engaging them at the Klingon border near Epsilon Tyran three," Nashta yelled as the red alert klaxon began to scream. "Let the Klingons know this situation! Have them send what they have in the area now!"
"Acknowledged…. The Klingons are aware of the circumstances. They'll be with us and the colony in three minutes."
The problem was that it would take longer than three minutes to reach the colony world. But they'd take what they could get.
"Good. Signal the group, we're going in now! Shields to full!"
The USS Borealis and three Nebula class starships slammed into the wall of Cylon death machines with long-range quantum torpedoes and phasers. All four ships hit the first Hellion damaging its shields and causing minor damage to its outer hull. Both Hellions focused their heavy weapons on the fast moving starships, lashing out with combinations of missiles, torpedoes and shield destroying energy beams.
"The Copernicus has been hit," someone said yelling over the battle din as Nashta was knocked out of his command chair. On the view screen, the wounded ship was listing portside, with Raiders and H-Ks rushed in, attempting to finish the job.
"Let's do it!" that was an Earth phrase that he'd become accustomed to and rather liked, he thought irreverently. With the Borealis's shields to full power Nashta's ship went in, taking the withering fire, protecting the wounded Federation ship with everything it had, while the two remaining starships racked the closest Hellion with sustained phaser strikes.
Three more Klingon warships entered the fray, throwing deadly energy blasts and some new type of plasma bolts against the enemy. The effects were devastating. Cylon shields might as well have been non-existent against this new weapon, which apparently to melt re-enforced armor like the preverbal earth butter on a heating element.
A section of the first Hellion blew spectacularly. Klingon warships nipping violently at its heels hampered its attempts at retreat. The remaining enemy fighters and Hellion formed up to face this new threat.
"One more to go," Nashta growled, even as he ordered his ship to fire on incoming H-Ks trying to blow holes in his ship.
A second later the Starship Copernicus blew apart as an arrant missile hit it amidships.
"How many survivors?"
"Three escape pods released only."
Desperately Nashta ordered his ship to intercept the pods. Cylons were known to target unarmed escape vehicles.
A small combined fleet of almost one hundred H-Ks and Raiders converged on the unprepared Klingon colony world, Kast'ka. Originally a farming community, in the last fifteen years it had become more of a military base camp for thousands of soldiers embarking to distant points in the Empire. Despite the relatively different dichotomies of the two groups, they got along fairly well. No one complained. The food was magnificent, the gagth exquisite.
The blood wine was rumored to be some of the best in the eastern portion of the Empire. In fact that was one of the colony's specialties and the Klingon High Council expressed a great love for the people there, unusual to say the least. To leave it defenseless would have been deemed insane. Several disrupter batteries were placed in permanent orbit around the planet and two heavy cruisers were on station at all times, therefore the entire system was considered secure.
The Cylon fleet was detected six minutes before it entered the star system. The two cruisers engaged the enemy attacking viciously and quickly before beginning their defensive retreat back towards the planet.
In their initial attack, four of the Raiders had been destroyed and one H-K damaged. The counter-fire was devastating and within that brief contact both ships shields had been almost completely destroyed. The call had gone out and help would soon be arriving, so all they had to do was to hold. Both ships retreated to the safety of the orbital batteries. Planetary defense systems were armed and ready.
The first wave of the larger H-Ks, each four times the size of a regular sized Raider with T'kon modified defense shields to match, hit the orbital defenses. Two of the platforms succumbed almost immediately, but not before they destroyed almost a fifth of the attacking fighters. Both Klingon ships were obliterated within the first five minutes of the fight. There were no survivors and even if there had been, the Cylons would have made sure that there would have been no one left alive, as the imperative protocols demanded. The Raiders concentrated on the land-based defenses. They were no match for those massive strike units but the shear number of fighters were able to inflict damage. M ore than forty percent of the ships were annihilated before the second of five land-based platforms were destroyed.
On the planet's surface, Commander Korma was having the time of his life. Like any good Klingon (or so he believed) he reveled in this fight his land based systems, in which he thought he'd never get to use, were damaging and destroying the enemy left and right. His defenses were damaged but he was still in the fight and it was glorious. He was winning!
Then the bottom fell out and he understood fear.
He and a thousand others gasped as two large Hellions de-cloaked and began firing their neutron disrupters onto the planet's surface. The energy weapons were designed more for destroy living tissue than causing actual physical damage. Everything the beam touched died for kilometers around. The last thing Korma saw were several high-yield photon class missiles streaking towards the surface. This exercise hadn't turned out the way he'd planned he thought before a blinding light engulfed everything.
The price tag was three hundred million souls.
THE KATASI STAR SYSTEM:
In the distance floated the remains of the Katasi home world. All sentient life had been extinguished. From the report given by the USS Enterprise during their spy mission to that ill-fated system, the Federation understood what was happening, but resources were stretched and they were powerless to do anything about the genocide. The dark-skinned, reptoid inhabitants of Katasi screamed and died under the merciless Cylon assaults, their technology being vastly inferior to the enemy's. The Cylon Empire had interests in the planet and the population was not part of the plan. As a form of terrorism, they hunted down every living being. No one came to their aid and no one survived.
The planet itself lost a significant portion of its mass as Cylon machinery strip-mined the world. The fact was this entire excursive was indeed unnecessary as the nebula provided all the resources required for building the war machine, but the robotic nation did it because they enjoyed it. It satisfied the fulfillment their primary protocols, as had the recent destruction of the farming colony. With that strike, they expected the Klingons to be incensed. They were, of course absolutely correct in their assessment.
The Supreme Imperium, with Lucifer the Imperious leader, and Spectre of the Poison Mist stood together on the command deck of the finished star base, overlooking the Katasi Nebula.
Behind them stood twenty of the Imperial gold guards with the dual rotating eyes and armed with heavy disrupter cannons. Linked, the three Cylon Dark Lords conferred with one another about their impending attack upon the Romulan Empire. In the past two months since the declaration of war against the Federation and its allies, the Cylons launched four major attacks against the Romulans, destroying one major colony world and damaging at least five support worlds. That Empire was in turmoil.
The Imperium Supreme, a cybernetic leader whose head clearly defined by its three-lobed head and five sets of independently rotating optical sensors spoke.
"Is everything in readiness?" the Supreme Imperium asked, knowing full well the answer. "I grow impatient for our war with the Federation. It is intolerant that the Romulan organics continue to resist our will."
"Their Empire is vast but not so much so that we cannot annex it," Lucifer, the Imperious Leader of the Cylon Empire, overall second in command and an IL series Lord, responded in its silky-smooth voice. Many of the settled worlds represent Romulan colonies containing humanoid life. Each has been targeting for elimination after the planet Romulus is subdued. The twin world of Remus will fall immediately afterwards."
"Seven Extreme class Basestars supported by fifteen Hellions and its compliments of Raiders and Hunter-Killer craft should be sufficient of destroy all resistance. The sub-space accelerator may not be required," Spectre, another high-ranking IL Lord, added. "But I recommend that we use it anyway. The moral of the organics will melt, like ice does to water, once they observe its effects."
Lucifer was not convinced.
"I do not agree with your assessment, Lord Spectre. Baltar tried many psychological attacks against the Galactica and the results were always disappointing. The humans resisted even more so with each attempt. "Then there is the fact that the weapon has limited use after firing. We can use it only twice before having to build another. The Katasi world will not survive more than that number of firings. And I am sure that the Federation suspect that it is a weapon of mass destruction."
"Yes. I am in agreement," the Supreme Leader said. "It is unfortunate that the Starship Enterprise-E survived its incursion here and was able to retrieve data. As my predecessor used to say, it is 'the fortunes of war'. But I am pleased that the Borg have chosen to honor the treaty between our two races."
"We must never trust them," Lucifer said quietly. "They will swarm over us if an opportune time comes. They cannot assimilate us, but they will destroy us if we represent a significant enough threat to them. We will send our expedition out when the Federation has been crushed under our collective feet. We must complete our purpose of the mission before the Borg are aware that we have done so. We are safe as long as they need us. Most of the data has been retrieved on V'Ger." And the data was not given by the Borg themselves, another sign of distrust between the two powers.
"Agreed," Spectre said. "With the secrets that the V'Ger entity possesses safely within our grasps, and with our joining to that which created V'Ger complete, we will exterminate the Borg from the face of reality and a new age of the machine will arise."
"Spectre, I expect you to be in position for the assault on Romulus in nineteen hours. Your failure to destroy Picard and the Enterprise-E has not gone unnoticed. The Extreme-class Basestar Turrent will be the flagship on this mission with Gold Leader Yuall in overall command under your direct supervision, if necessary. Do not interfere unnecessarily, Spectre," the Imperious Leader said in its silky smooth voice.
"By the command," Spectre said.
"Commander Cain? Cain? Is that you?"
Adama was almost paralyzed, amazement almost exploding across his face at the sight of the man standing in front of him. There was something else there also. Fear. The man before him was in his middle forties, fit and strong, an imposing figure in his updated dark brown Commanders uniform. When he walked passed, Colonial warriors almost bowed to and he reveled in it. He was back, with his hair in a –God help him- a ponytail. His wife Siress Tinia looked as though she was ready to bolt. Why did things like this had to happen? He hadn't even been home for a day.
"It's those transporter the Federation has," he answered smugly. "And to think, I didn't trust those things. In any case, it's all very scientific and I'm sure that Cassiopeia can explain it to you, but the bottom line is that I am back and ready for another round with those Cylon sons of b-"
"But Cain," Adama said cutting his friend off. "The medical tests need to confirm if you are really fit for duty."
Adama already distrusted the transportation devices and this most recent accident did nothing to endear him to them. Thomas Riker had already been an unwitting victim to those things and now this newest incident made him wonder whether he should ban them from the Galactica. Cain looked well, but the thought of the possible aftereffects of this transformation was chilling.
"We need you Cain but we want to make sure you're okay. These unforeseen side effects-"
"Adama, I'm young again!" he said, practically yelling. "Who knows? I might even have a couple of more kids with good old Cassie here. I feel so good."
Cassie looked at him, her eyes portraying a mixture that wavered between agreement and murder. She wasn't that young herself and now Cain could be her younger brother. That bothered her. A lot. Unlike her sex, men had a tendency to tire quickly with older women. She hoped Cain was better than that.
"Putting all that aside, Mr. President," Cassie announced quickly, "Commander Cain's condition is a result of transporter interference with what is being called a molecular reversion field that we encountered on the shuttle over to the Galactica. It destroyed the metal on the ship and partially masked their bio-signatures. Basically as the transporter chief tried to transport the Commander, the field masked certain genetic sequences called RVN's, which is short for ribo-veroxic nucleotides. These sequences control the aging process in people because unlike DNA the RVN's add sequences, which determines how and when we develop physically in our adult stages. So when the Commander and the pilots were re-integrated the transporter reconstructed them as children or in his case a fairly young man. According to the records, it's happened before and the process can be reversed. But-"
"But?"
"The two pilots had their pattern buffers recorded and have been returned to normal," she continued. "But Commander Cain has never been transported, so there is no original pattern to return him to normal. The USS Khe Sahn used a shuttle to bring him over…at your request. So, he's stuck this way."
"Is he stuck permanently like this?" Siress Tinia asked. "This in incredible!"
"He'll age normally," Cassie said. "Besides, the process is extraordinarily dangerous. Scientists have studied this process intensely and have rejected it as a viable youth reversing process. There are simply too many variables. Cain and the others were very, very lucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it," Cain announced. "It was the fates, pure and simple. I was born to fight Cylons and by heaven I'll do just that. Now that we've found our brethren, I have no intentions of letting those cone heads ruin things here. I can't wait to get back to the Pegasus again. I've seen her, you know. She's more powerful than ever and so much more room. There's no need for all that extra fuel. The weapons system are like nothing I've ever seen on a Battlestar before. The Scanners alone-"
Enough of this.
"Commander," Adama said, his voice raised to command attention. "The command of the Pegasus is Sheba's not yours."
"I understand your feelings Adama, but I am more qualified to handle that ship, especially now, than my daughter. She is good. I taught her everything that she knows, but my experience is far in excess of hers and in this fight we need all the resources that we have," he said, his eyes glowing with anticipation.
"In that you are correct," answered Adama evenly. "And as President, it is my responsibility to decide where those resources will be best applied. Until then, be patient and familiarize yourself with our situation and with yourself."
The man before him was clearly deflated by this turn of events. But life had given him a gift and he intended to use every micron of it. Not having the Pegasus was merely a minor problem.
For now.
Cassie and Cain spent another centar with the President and his wife talking of tactical plans and the new life that their people were carving out in the Alpha quadrant. Despite everything, Cain seemed to like the Federation even though Adama could tell that he couldn't wait to get back into the war and show them what real fighting was. It was simply the nature of the man. He couldn't help himself.
Molecular reversion fields? Who thinks of these things?
"Thank God," Tinia said when their visitors finally left. "That man!"
"Yes," Adama agreed. "But remember he saved our people more times that I can count. And," he added. "We need him. But I want him in tactical and not necessarily in the field. His experience is invaluable, but I want him to look forward to the future, not the past. I want him to develop new ideas and new techniques. These Cylons know his fighting patterns, mine as well. We need flexibility and Cain doesn't understand that yet."
Tinia swung around and grabbed her husband.
"Are you jealous?"
Adama sighed.
"A little," he admitted. He has the chance to do it all over again, even correct some of the mistakes made so many years ago. I have no need to be young again although if it had happened to me, I wouldn't have complained-as long as you were with me," he added, making her smile appreciatively. "But I am content with my life as it is, because I have you. And I have the grandkids, Boxey and Athenia."
She smiled even more at his answer. "Ever the diplomat." She kissed him firmly. "Speaking of which how's Athena doing with Thomas?"
He laughed long and loud.
"Was I that obvious?"
"Of course, with me that is. Husband, I know everything about you. I know how you think and what some of your plans are. They would be good with for one another, unlike Starbuck. He is a fool you know?" Then, she added "When it comes to women, that is."
"I disagree with you, partially," Adama countered. "He suffers from a host of phobias. The loss, then finding, and then losing of his father. The abandonment of his mother and the stress of keeping our people alive and his scandalous ways prevents him from committing to the women he needs most. As a young warrior I understood his misgivings but now that he is older it has become a liability, because in the end none of those things are an excuse. Either he changes or the children that could be so blessed by him being their father, will never exist."
Tinia nodded her head in agreement.
"And in the end, family is what counts. I know this. But he needs to learn this before its too late."
"I pray that he does. But-" he was eying her with that look right now. "That is his problem. He's a man now. Let him deal with it."
"Hold it. Exactly what are you thinking?" she asked, laughing.
"If you have no clue," he said with a pleasant smirk, "then you're not the politician that you used to be."
She began laughing again.