The green-tinged vortex opened across the exit of the conference room. The occupants had been gathered to discuss tomorrow's historic Peace Conference to end the thousand-yaren war, and in particular the proper placement of the Battlestars for welcoming the Cylon delegation. Some of the occupants of the room recovered from a momentary lapse in consciousness as the rest of the gathering of Battlestar Commanders faced away from the vortex.
The Council President turned from his explanation of how he felt things would proceed after the Peace was concluded, to see Commanders Artemis and Adama swaying slightly as two relatively young men, a woman of a few years more and three young women dropped from the portal onto the floor, followed by a thin college-aged young man, a girl the same age, an older black man and finally a large bearded Englishman as the color of the portal turned back to blues. The ten flag officers and Baltar rose as a unit, unsure of what was happening.
As the vortex closed, Xander looked around in partial recognition of some of the individuals in the room, and Tara recognized them all from when she was Commander Artemis, taken from her bridge as it met its end from suicide Cylon fighter craft.
"You!" she spat in Colonial at Baltar, "Cylon Puppet!" She fired her blaster and even with Xander trying to block her shot managed to exact a hit in the betrayer's right arm. The others in the room froze as Doyle and Xander both then drew swords and crysknives. The four real sliders edged away from the building conflict, backing carefully into a corner. Joyce helped Willow and Dawn to their feet, only to restrain a similar reaction from the two girls, who watched as Tara addressed the most powerful men in the Colonies with the momentum of her last possession.
"Adama, do you remember where you were a few minutes ago?" Tara asked the person that'd possessed Jonathan, "A technologically regressed world called Earth?" Adama and the real Artemis both nodded as many gasped at the mention of the old legend-name of the mythical Thirteenth Colony.
"Yes, and I remember coming into a library to see three colonial warriors failing to jump into the portal after you," Adama replied, "And then I felt my spirit leave that place and I was back here. But what is the basis of your accusation against Baltar?" Tara translated for the others and continued after Xander suggested certain wording, and as he knew the most, had her translate for him in particular.
Alexander Harris was far from the young man from before he had cycled through nearly a year of Halloweens. As he'd chosen to costume himself as men usually in excellent shape, his physique had become more susceptible to changes in overall mass and allocation. The man that the Colonials saw stood a bit over six feet in height, and his densely toned muscles were an impressive three hundred and thirty pounds without fat on him, clearly designed for power, stamina and speed, the look of a runner or swimmer in spite of the mass he bore easily. Even during the Halloweens his Reset companions had slowly grown accustomed to the incremental changes that they themselves were experiencing to different degrees, or his non-costume clothing tended toward the large and comfortable and offset perceptions. But in the comparatively crowded space of the conference room, the President and the Commanders took note of the Warrior in front of them as the blonde woman translated his words.
"The dimension…where we come from…" she conveyed, choosing her words carefully. "The Colonies were exterminated by the Cylons twenty years ago as the Fleet was diverted because of an impending peace negotiated by Baltar. The Traitor Baltar was in the pay of the Cylons and believed himself to become a satrap of humanity under the Cylons. He was wrong. The Cylons hid about a thousand suicide saucers behind a moon or asteroid, I don't remember, with refueling tankers. They wiped out the Fleet except Galactica, while the Cylon Base Stars used nuclear weapons and fighter strikes to savage the Colonies. Within a week, Adama had returned to Caprica, gathered a hundred thousand people and crammed them into a few hundred vessels, and headed out to Kobol and to find Earth, pursued sporadically by the Cylons. Cain and the Pegasus are out near Gamoray fighting a guerilla battle and eventually sacrifice themselves to take out two base stations and force a third to retreat. I suggest you simply allow us to question Baltar, offer him clemency in return for switching back to the human side. Perhaps a strike on the tankers to strand the saucers, then race back and ambush the base stations is your best strategy. One of our fellows had a similar possession of Cain, but I don't know if he'd picked up enough information to know we need him here now, since our being here is the first evidence such a thing has happened."
"Young man, young lady," the Council President addressed Xander, and Tara who translated, "What proof do you offer as to a Cylon Perfidy or Baltar's betrayal? Let alone tales of the Lost Tribe?"
Xander turned to Joyce, and pointed at her lasso, then to the Council President, "Mr. President…the lady will place the lasso…around you. Then we will ask you a few questions, and we want you to try and lie, in order that we can check if it's still working properly, and if it is, then you know Baltar's words to be truth."
"Very well, now that that's done," Xander said as Joyce indicated readiness, "Tell me, Sir, am I your son and heir?"
"Y-y—no," the old man gasped.
"Am I Commander of the Colonial Fleet?"
"Y-no," he gave in more easily, knowing he couldn't get a lie through, then conceded, "Alright, try it on Baltar."
The wound-bound man was sat in a chair and the lasso tied around him, Xander moving close to keep Willow, Dawn and Tara away from him. Through Tara he questioned for half an hour, allowing the Council President and Commanders every opportunity to clarify. It was surprising just how exacting the Council President could be when his dreams of peace were fueled and then betrayed by this Baltar, who agreed to do everything he could to ensure Colonial success before accepting clemency but also public disgrace. It was surprising how much Baltar actually did know, only the end-result being kept from him by the Cylons.
It turned out the real Quinn Mallory had been an old Battlestar Galactica geek as well, and had brought up what he could remember from the novelizations, the pilot episode and the Cylons in general, earning grateful nods as Xander Harris continued directing the initial interrogation before letting the Colonials take over detailed follow-ups.
"So you're the Sliders, huh?" Xander smiled at the astonished four he approached and filled the space in front of them, "I'm Alexander Harris, but please call me Xander. In our home dimension, you're a television series, and a good one. It's a pleasure to meet the four of you in person."
"I'm Quinn Mallory, this is Wade Wells, Professor Arturo and Rembrandt Brown," the young man greeted in return and shook hands with Xander, "So how did we get off-planet and arrive here at the same time as your group?"
"I'm not sure why we're here, though perhaps a link between the possessed and the possessors here had an effect on our travel, and since Doyle and I dressed for Halloween as the Professor and yourself, timers included, we intersected the real slide."
"But can we actually slide back and arrive on an Earth instead of the vacuum of space equivalent to this one?" Arturo asked thoughtfully, "And how long until the next slide?" Xander and Quinn both examined their respective timers.
"About two weeks, Professor," they both said, smiling, then Quinn continued, "Perhaps enough time to check out their technology and science a bit?"
"A fine idea Mr. Quinn, and I'm sure Mr. Brown might take in the entertainment offerings," the Professor smiled and rubbed his hands in anticipation, "And Miss Wells the computer capabilities of these Colonials."
"S-so what now, Xander?" Tara asked as the adrenaline and the vestiges of possession wore off, "I-It looks like you've saved the Twelve Colonies."
"We may have saved them, Tara of the Wild West," Xander sighed, "Though we still don't know if we'll be seeing the brig or guest quarters after drawing weapons in their chambers."
"You'll be guests…Xander, was it?" Adama addressed in slow and deliberate English, "It seems from what little I remember, this language is part of it. With ten ready Battlestars instead of one just able to escape, I think no matter what the pain, we'll survive."
"That's good, though you might want to start putting together a Battlestar and a well-planned expedition to Earth," Xander speculated, "There are a few places on the way that could be helpful, including one that has a big energy gun that can kill Battlestars and Base stars. That would be a nice planetary defense addition. If we're not under arrest, could you render medical examinations of Dawn and Willow, here, they seemed to have been faring poorly the last couple of days…"
"I'll escort you there myself," Commander Artemis interjected, "With the Council meeting on board, the Atlantia currently has a few extra specialists on hand just in case. And you'll be happy to know that Baltar's shuttle pilot has also been secured and offered financial compensation and pardon in exchange for his assistance."
What about Arturo? the question came to Xander from nowhere, Isn't he suffering a malady?
"Oh, and Professor Arturo as well," Xander added, shrugging off the obvious effects of fatigue and repeating time too many times, "I believe he has some type of…malady" Quinn and Arturo looked up in joint shock. "He's a good man, and deserves any help you can give."
Jonathan slumped against the library door in confusion, his Adama memories fading slightly as he regained control. The mood in the building was a somber one as none knew when their fellows might return. Buffy suddenly was without sister and mother and closest friends, Kendra and Faith hugged each other at the loss of Tara, and the general unreality of the moment befell them. Jonathan turned to the other males.
"Let's deal with the body situation somehow," the young man indicated, "Either dump 'em somewhere or figure out a story for the police."
"I vote for story myself, but we'll need to get Buffy and the non-students out of here," William replied, "Her because of the gun and powder on her hands, the rest of us because we don't have a reason to be here."
"That's probably the best plan," Liam conceded, "But let's double check before making the call."
Three hours later, the Sunnydalers pretty much finished relaying their Battlestar-related recollections to Adama even as the Fleet prepared for desperate battle. Dawn had been bewildered to find out that she'd passed out, but she'd dressed up as Commander Artemis. Willow then blushed and explained that because Dawn had gone as her she returned the favor.
"My head hurts…I didn't just get you, Dawn," Willow said, "I seemed to get a lot of your costume experiences too."
"Wow, but how did…" Dawn began, then with Willow looked at Tara, who blushed deeply and started to hide behind Xander, "Uh, Tara?"
"I-I dressed a-as Willow," Tara admitted, "Sh-she's so nice and she seemed okay after her costumes, so when F-Faith wanted to dress up…" Willow went over to the nervous girl, giving her an encouraging look, as did Dawn.
"That's okay, then," Willow assured her, "A-and Dawnie and I aren't really ones to get mad and all about costuming as each other, right Dawn?" Dawn nodded in agreement and patted Tara's shoulder.
"Well, if everybody could sit down," the Doctor said, "I can give you your medical status reports, unless you'd each rather do this privately." They all shook their heads and gestured for him to continue, but allowing time for translation to Xander and Doyle, "Alright, my staff and I find you to be in excellent health, and the worries about the two ladies not feeling particularly good the last few days might just be from overdoing things for ladies in their and Miss Tara's condition, though the results were rather surprising."
"Surprising how?" Willow asked.
"Well, the fact that in such a small group, Miss Dawn is carrying twins, yourself and Miss Tara quadruplets, and all at about four weeks along…" the Doctor replied, Dawn rattling on to Xander then with the rest of them suddenly realizing what had been said as they sat in silence, "Patriarch Alexander, we'll need your counter-signature affirming the tests, in addition to those of your wives." Adama had translated this for Xander as Dawn had sobered with the rest of them.
"Patriarch?" Xander asked confused, only to be stared at and then glared at by the Amazon Princess.
"Xander…" Joyce began, in the Classical Greek of Princess Diana.
"We never Joyce," Xander assured her in the same tongue, "We were waiting until after the Resets to even pursue a relationship. This must be because of the possessions, and the relationships to my own. But I…will… assume responsibility. If we get back, there are accounts I can access to provide for them." Realizing she wasn't going to kill him now, he looked to find three young women looking at each other then him. He moved quickly to squat in front of them and speak softly and reassuringly to them.
"Hey, it'll be okay," Xander said, looking each of them in the eyes, repeated what he'd told Joyce, and then added, "And we're not due to slide out of here for another two weeks. We'll stock up on vitamins and other mystery baby stuff, and when we get back, it'll work out. Remember the accounts I have access to? We'll buy a big house, hire some help, whatever it takes, okay?" He gave them each the 'Xander-patented big brown eye' treatment, and they nodded back, a little less afraid.
The Sliders and Sunnydalers began to interact and get to know each other, the oddities experienced by the others fueling conversations at multiple levels. Tech ideas for timers, wormhole travel, stargates and such were battered nearly as much as musical preferences and assertions.
Wade and Remy were not happy about finding out from a stranger that one of their family had been sick and that Quinn also had kept the secret, however reluctantly. Listening to the Professor's resistance to 'constant poking and prodding' did, however, ease the strain especially as Xander had drawn the sliders into discussing their latest world experiences. The medical staff dealt with the irascible academician, then had actually found in Quinn himself what seemed to be an inter-dimensional locator device that acted both as a beacon, and as coordinate storage. Apparently the Kromaggs had been tracking the young Mr. Mallory since his time on the Outpost.
Two hours later, before he was due to depart for the Galactica, Adama found himself approached by Xander once again.
"Commander Adama, the sooner you blast those machines and any lingering reptile-brains out of existence, the better I'll feel," Xander exhaled and told the older man who did indeed look a lot like Lorne Greene, "And how about a trade of technologies for goods and services?" The officer raised an eyebrow as he looked expectantly, "Quinn, the Professor and I have the math and the specifications for the device that allowed us to 'slide' through the wormhole that brought us here."
"What would you want in return?" Adama asked, curious at the young man's directness and finding it refreshing after the last few weeks of political maneuvering toward the now-defunct peace conference.
"If we're unable to leave this dimension because we'd end up in the vacuum of space, then a large estate, tax-freedom for a generation, pre-approved entrance and coverage of all expenses of education for us and our children, and each of us here to receive a Commander's retirement pay for subsistence and jobs with the Sliding Program. If there is an expedition to Earth, we get equivalent space and such on the Battlestar assigned."
"That seems a lot," Adama said, "But if we were to find uninhabited worlds like our own, the resources would allow us tremendous capability in our war and peacetime economic efforts. The war has hampered our space freight capability, and that's what's stagnated our ability for nearly a hundred and fifty yarens…and if we could create portals large enough for Battlestars to pass…"
"And if we are able to slide," Xander smiled, "It'll be even cheaper for you, since we probably can't take too much with us…maybe gold, technical specs, personal weapons, medkit 'cause of the…babies…"
"I'll relay your proposal to the President later today, Alexander," Commander Adama promised the new patriarch.