CHAPTER 5

Battlestar Valkyrie

The first thing Naslund noticed about the ship was the floor.

It wasn't a particularly interesting floor, more of a plate metal deck, but that it existed was impressive. Artificial gravity was something that could be almost as important as whatever stealth device had enabled the ship to appear out of nowhere. The possibility that the ship had FTL now seemed even more likely. But the gravity was most definitely real. And with ships like these, atrophied muscles could be a thing of the past.

The second thing he noticed was the crew.

They were human, and unless convergent evolution had jumped the shark, had to be from Earth one way or another. The uniform was foreign, or maybe just a new version of a previous one that had evolved... No. They couldn't be that different, even if the ship had left ten years after they had and made up for it with some kind of new atomic motor. That or they left forty years after the relatively primitive Activity and did in fact have FTL capacity.

The third thing Naslund noticed was Major Eric Schindler. Clearly the Shackleton had been intercepted. And the crew of the Valkyrie
had been conscious when it happened.

"How the hell did you get here?" he asked Schindler. As the first thing he said upon leaving the shuttlecraft, it must have sounded bizarre. "Your ship should be over a month behind! How long have you been traveling?"

"Less than a week."

"I know it must have seemed like that with the cold sleep, but how-"

"No cold sleep. I've been awake the whole time."

Naslund's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Goddamn! They do have FTL!"

Naslund suddenly realized the presence of what must of been the commanding officer of the ship. He shut up fast.

"I'm Admiral William Adama of the battlestar Valkyrie." Adama said. "Welcome aboard."

"Colonel Naslund, USS Activity." Naslund just couldn't think of anything else but, "Where are you people from?"

"Far away from here." Adama said. "Would you care to follow me? You didn't bring anyone else with you?"

"The ship has a crew of forty. Hardly an army."

"We have over six hundred. On a larger ship it can exceed two thousand."

"Shit!" Naslund exclaimed. "And you built all this? How much did it cost?"

"Millions of credits. This way?" Adama gestured.

"Activity cut our budget for the next decade. This is beyond possible for us..."

Brightly lit corridors and a layout more like a submarine than a starship. The Activity had tunnels that brachiated all over the ship, as there was no 'up' or 'down', only forwards and backwards. And they were walking!

The Admiral's ready room, or quarters or whatever they were had no handholds on the wall, or magnetic clips on the desk to prevent paper from flying away. Gravity was a big deal, as far as he was concerned. And he didn't even want to think about the weapons systems.

"I suppose you're wondering why we're here," Adama said.

"You might say that," Naslund said. "We expected the other powers to try for Eridani first."

"You should be thankful you didn't." Adama said. "Don't ask questions now, just take my word for it. We're not from Earth."

That's it. Logic just hopped out the nearest window.

"You're like astronauts, on some kind of Star Trek." Naslund said. "Where the hell are you from then?"

"Calm down," Schindler said vainly.

"Calm down?" Naslund burst out. "Why the hell should I do that? I've just had my technological superiority taken away by astronauts dropping out of the sky, who aren't from Earth, and you want me to calm down. Damn right! What's he going to tell me next?"

"That you're not originally from Earth either?" Adama tried.

"That's it!" Naslund cried. "Who are you people really? Are you Russian?"

"We're not Russian. We're Colonial."

"And that's no British accent either!" Naslund stormed.

"Here's the deal," Adama said. "I can't force you to believe me. But believe this: I have a fleet waiting for me to signal back. We're going to use this planet as a staging area while this ship goes ahead to negotiate with Earth for settlement arrangements. Now I'm going to send a message back to them, and from what I've experienced so far I'm ready to do that with or without your permission. So you can return to your ship or you can listen up. Your choice, make it now!"

Naslund shut up fast. A fleet!

"Thank you," Adama said. "We're from a star system which has twelve inhabitable planets. Our people settled those planets long ago, but a thirteenth group left and settled your Earth. Our planets have been nothing short of sterilized. There are about 50,000 people waiting to jump into orbit. Do we have your permission?"

Put bluntly like that, Naslund couldn't refuse the offer.

USS Activity

"That was nothing short of a goddamned ultimatum," Naslund complained, slamming the control console.

"You gotta admit, the ship's nice," Emmerson said, glancing out the observation dome at the Valkyrie. "What'd he demand?"

"In a little bit this system's going to be crawling with ships. Big ships, little ships, battleships bigger than that one. And if we don't sit down and shut up, there'll be trouble."

Emmerson shrugged. "Maybe if you'd calmed down they would've asked nicely."

Naslund waved a finger at Emmerson. "They didn't send me here because of my negotiating skills. They sent me out here to get rid of me."

"Worked pretty well, if that's really the reason." Emmerson said. "But we're here now, light-years from home and those monkeys in the Pentagon who sent you here, and possibly on the brink of the first interstellar war."

"I didn't screw up that badly, and they don't seem to want a war. They were quite happy to act all diplomatic until... yeah."

"Perhaps you should just accept that maybe they're telling the truth. Far-fetched, perhaps, but think about it in this context: what do they stand to gain from telling us this? The less they seem to gain the more likely it's the truth."

Naslund stared at him. "That's one philosophy."

"If what you say is true, it better become your philosophy, Mr. Ambassador." Emmerson checked his console. "Space lanes are still clear. And if that," the radar beeped, "is what I think it is, here they come."

They were right about crawling with ships. The orbit was filled with them, from shuttles to battlecruisers that could make even the commander of the Activity pause. And they were all as smooth and streamlined as Valkyrie was.

But most impressively was the manner of their appearance. There was no doubt they had FTL capacity. In a flash of light they appeared from nowhere, in under a second. Nothing the Terrans had could match them.

"If we're not careful, our new allies might roll over on us and not notice," Emmerson said softly, awed by the sudden appearance of such a fleet.

"I'm not dead sure they're our allies yet." said Naslund "But even if they are, they'd still make deadly opponents."

Battlestar Valkyrie

"That went as well as could be expected," said Adama, drinking from a cup of water.

"I believe it could've gone more smoothly if you had withheld the information about Kobol." said Eric Schindler. "That confused him,"

"I'm a soldier, not a diplomat." Adama said. "Sometimes I'm just too straightforward."

Have you ever had to negotiate before?" Schindler asked.

"A year ago, when we ran into another battlestar called the Pegasus, two of my men were involved in an incident resulting in the death of an officer from Pegasus. They were to be executed, and I didn't agree with the trial."

"I should say not! Summary execution is a not a good way to ensure discipline, not in your situation!"

"Perhaps, but I wasn't very good at convincing the CO of Pegasus, Admiral Helena Cain. Our negotiation lasted all of two minutes. Then our guns were turned on each other."

"I see what you mean," Schindler said softly. He exhaled.

"So you'll excuse me if my diplomacy is not up to scratch."

"This will be a shock to him, this fleet appearing from nowhere," said Schindler.

"If you are any indication to go by, I don't doubt it." Adama took another sip. "There's still one thing I don't understand."

"What's that?" Schindler asked.

"Why'd you pick such a godsforsaken planet like this one to colonize on?" Adama asked, looking straight at him.

"Because we found it first, and we don't want any visitor from other nations showing up. We didn't tell anyone where we were going, we just left the solar system."

"Is that all?" Adama asked slowly.

"That's all," said Schindler quickly, his voice steady.

"Does your ship need to be so heavily armed, though? Your cargo bay contained assault rifles."

"We don't know if anyone might be coming after us. We can't be too prepared."

"Your ship would make a good assault platform. That and the small army you've got on board."

"I would appreciate it if you just accepted my word. What could possibly be on that planet that needed an army?"

Adama shrugged. "I was hoping you could tell me."

"I can't."

The door chime went off, another luxury the Valkyrie afforded her commander. "Enter," Adama said.

"Bill, good job." said Admiral Greer. "I got over here as fast as I could. I'm glad things went quickly here. I personally would have expected just a little more skepticism on the part of the Terrans."

"It worked, so let's just leave it at that, shall we?" Adama said. "Water?"

"Sure." Greer sat down across from Schindler. "Our next concern is what to do next."

"I think shore parties should be our primary concern right now." Adama said. "The civilians would kill to get off those ships."

"Wait. You're not going down on the planet, are you?" Schindler burst out.

"Yes." Adama said calmly.

"You mean civilians, on the ground, on Bajor?"

"Yes." Adama repeated. "Since there seems to be nothing special about the planet, except for the bracing climate, there shouldn't be anything wrong with our going done there, isn't that right?"

Schindler was caught in a corner and he knew it. Discovered, but not understood, he went on the defensive. "I'm not at liberty to discuss this, insofar as it would be dangerous to go down there unarmed."

"You just don't want us discovering what you're hiding down there."

Greer was complete lost. "What the frak are you two going on about?" he asked, bewildered. "Is there something I should know about."

"When I find out, you'll be the first to know," said Adama. "Our new friend here isn't to eager to let me know, though. You might have to go and find out for yourself."

There was no doubt that the Colonials could carry this out. No doubt at all. There was nothing, short of nuking the fleet, that the Activity could do in response.

"You wouldn't," Schindler growled.

"For gods sake, just tell tell us what's going on!" Greer burst out.

"I can't." Schindler said.

"Forget it, Joe, there's nothing we can get out of him right now." Adama said. "Next: Earth."

"Valkyrie goes forward again?" Greer suggested. "It's closer to the size of their starships and might alarm them less. It sure worked here."

"More or less," Adama admitted. "This time I'd like to pick and choose my crew."

Greer raised his eyebrows. "But the Valkyrie's got one of the best crews we could find."

"But it's not my crew. I want some people from Galactica. I have a team that works very well together."

Greer relented. "Fine. You do that. But make sure that it's only temporary. I don't want any mutinies on account of your preferences. They were selected because they were the best, and some toes might get stepped on here."

"Don't worry. I'll be ready to leave by tomorrow."

Battlestar Galactica

Saul Tigh barricaded the door to his quarters, on the way back sweeping the room for bugs. "No one's listening." he said.

"What do we have to talk about?" asked Tyrol. "Nothing's changed."

"The battle's over. We were in key positions, any one of us could've succumbed to hidden protocols or Cylon programming." said Tigh. "We didn't. If we are in fact Cylons, then we're the least dangerous variety I've ever known."

"Perhaps because of our knowledge-" said Anders.

"Maybe, maybe not. Athena knew all along she was a Cylon. Boomer didn't. We're in between." Tyrol pointed out.

"Either that, or we're different," Tigh said. "I never saw another copy of myself on New Caprica, or any of you. We're all the same people that lived before the Holocaust, and I know for a fact I fought in the first Cylon War."

"But humanoids hadn't been developed by the Cylons yet. They still looked like chrome toasters." said Anders.

"Maybe we weren't built by the Cylons!" Tyrol exclaimed.

"What?"

"Think about it, there are five other models than the ones we've seen, we're three of them, and we know Tory's the fourth."

"What are you suggesting?" Anders asked.

"I don't know. All I know is that we aren't Cylons, at least not in the same way as the others." His eyes lit up. "Maybe we were designed by Capricans!"

"Now that makes more sense than anything else I've heard so far!" Tigh exclaimed. "There must be some manual or something describing the Cylons and the development program somewhere in Battlegroup 41."

"Because of the mission!" Anders slammed his fist on the table. "Valkyrie! Adama's on Valkyrie!"

"Hold your horses, boy!" Tigh snapped. " We can't act suspiciously, but we have a chance. He's collecting crewmen for the trip to Earth, right?" Tigh glared at Tyrol. "And there's a good chance you've been chosen."

"If I do manage to find the data, I'll get it to you when the fleet joins-"

"That's only if you've been chosen," Tigh said. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Chances are it's classified. You'll need my access codes. And if you're not chosen, we need a backup plan."

"What if we reveal ourselves to be Cylons?" Anders suggested.

"They'd never believe us, especially from me. The idea itself is so preposterous I almost don't believe it myself. But it's true, so we need to act on it. If somehow it turns out we're not liabilities to the fleet, then we have nothing to worry about." Tigh looked at everyone expectantly. "Don't just sit there, get the hell out of here before someone notices you're gone!"

Tau Ceti II (Bajor)

"It's a godsforsaken rock." Starbuck complained. The sunlight was intense, but not bright. The area they had landed in wasn't even that hot compared to some areas of the planet. The volcanic plain, with the isolated stands of tree-like plants were still distorted by rising heat currents. The field telephone was radiating enough heat to warm a room in winter.

"There's something down there that the Terrans are attempting to hide." Tigh said over the line. "Rock or not, you've got to get close enough to their camp to get a look through the field glasses. Then get your team and report back."

"Roger that," Thrace said, hanging up the receiver. "All right, let's go."

The Raptor had approached from the opposite side of the planet and flown close to the ground in an attempt to avoid ground-based DRADIS. They hadn't been pinged, and had gotten pretty close to the camp, so the walk wasn't more than a dozen klicks.

The sky was blue, but a lighter shade, seeing as the oxygen content was a little less than Caprica or Kobol had been. It was still well within parameters, but the marines wouldn't be running a marathon any time soon.

"Activity up ahead," one of the soldiers reported. Thrace peeked through the binoculars.

"Definitely the camp..." she muttered. "Flank out, we're going in for a closer look.

With the various confirmations coming from the marines, Thrace positioned herself on a ridge overlooking the next expanse. There were no sensors or sentries, so she crossed the valley at a run.

At the next ridge she dived for cover, and pulled out the glasses. The camp was a normal affair, with tents and other facilities all set up in a neat and orderly way.

But what was that outside the camp, surrounded by some sort of cordon?

It looked like some sort of floating cloud, or mist. It was definitely what the buzz was about. Armed guards and a sensor cordon (laser beams?) testified to that.

But what was it?

Battlestar Valkyrie

"Welcome aboard, Chief." Adama said. "Good to have you with us."

"What can I do for you, Admiral?" Tyrol asked.

"Recon photos of the Terran starship Activity." Commander Nelson said, pushing a couple of photographs towards him. "We've found missile tubes and engines, and airlocks, but we can't figure out what these are."

Tyrol understood what was asked of him. As a deck chief he knew most machinery inside-out.

But this had him stumped. "Do you have anything closer?" he asked. Nelson pushed another sheet towards him.

"I've never seen anything like.. Wait a minute. They look like large laser generators."

"Could they be weapons?" Adama asked.

"If sufficiently powerful... They could be..." Tyrol was lost in thought. "It would be less wasteful for point defense... And tied in to the computer could intercept incoming missiles and fighters more quickly and more accurately than a blanket of suppression fire could." He whistled. "You've got to hand it to them, they've got a good system there, if that is in fact what those are. The other possibility is that they are low powered lasers to shoot meteorites, seeing as their ship is so delicate."

"Not built for combat?"

"Not the same kind of combat. All the missile tubes are located in a cluster near the laser emitters. The ship is designed to launch everything she's got and try to pick off what's coming at her before she's destroyed. She's about speed, not power. If we give them a chance, they could hurt us."

"Thank you, Chief. That will be all."

After Tyrol had left, Nelson turned to Adama. "Not what I expected. Our ships and Cylon ships are both designed around the same combat principle. This is a completely different. We'll need new countermeasures."

"Hopefully things won't come to that," Adama said.

"Hopefully. But if they do, I don't want to be unprepared. I don't want to find fifteen nukes coming screaming at us before we can launch a single fighter."

"I think, in the interest of security, we should keep all indicators of our capabilities under tight guard. The less they know the better."

"So are we ready to jump?" Nelson asked.

"Lock the ship down. We're leaving in thirty minutes."

USS Activity

"We're in a pretty pickle and no mistake." said Naslund, glaring out the window at the Valkyrie, and now the larger Galactica and Agrippa. "We can't put a nose out of joint now."

"We're not helpless," Emmerson said, floating over the control panel. "We're heavily armed, or what would be called heavily armed in our time."

"Those ships could just swat us aside. Look at them! They're massive!"

"I'm not worried about here." Emmerson admitted. "What about Earth? These ships could bridge the gap in less than a month, where even a one way radio message would take twenty years to cross the same divide."

"Sweet Jesus!" Naslund swore. "Do you think we could defend ourselves?"

"At the level I remember, maybe by sheer volume. Now... Who knows? How far could Earth have advanced in forty years?"

"It better be far enough. Otherwise we're screwed."

"But they haven't been aggressive yet! They haven't made any hostile moves. We should thank our lucky stars for that."

"But with the situation on Earth..." Naslund thought for a second. "Could they touch off something else that's been there already? Things aren't all hunky dory back home."

"That's for them to find out. We go back, we won't recognize the place. We'll be like a bunch of Rip van Winkles. And that won't be fun at all." The radar beeped like an alarm clock. "And they're off!" Emmerson exclaimed.

"What?" Naslund shoved himself over, almost missing the handhold.

The battlestar Valkyrie had disappeared.