Chapter 7

Battlestar Valkyrie

William Adama knocked on the door of the guest quarters. "Madam President?" he called.

"What is it?" she called from inside. She had come aboard less than half an hour before departing Tau Ceti, and had remained in her cabin during the voyage. She said it had to do with her cancer treatment, as the medication made her nauseous.

"Can I come in?" Adama asked. He opened the door after hearing an affirmative.

"What is it?" Roslin asked, a little pale but on her feet. "Have we gotten anywhere with the Russians?"

"I told the United States and China that we'd deal with them in time, but the United States seems vehemently opposed to our going down to Russia. They keep insisting we talk to them first, and they aren't happy with the Russians in general."

"Well tough luck," Roslin replied. "I don't want to give into ultimatums just because that country might not happen to like the other."

"I'm still getting used to the whole 'country' idea," Adama admitted. "Ever since we first contacted them they've been bickering about us."

"I'll talk to them all... On my own time." Roslin said. "When do I leave?"

"In five minutes a Raptor will take you down to Moscow," said Adama. "You're going to be meeting with Tatiana Beria, the president of the Second Soviet Republic. The country's very nice, from what they've told me. The Americans seem to think it's a frozen wasteland, but that might be biased."

"I'll see when I get down there." said Roslin. "The good news is, nothing's happened so far."

"You'll get to live to see the Promised Land, don't worry." Adama reassured her. "Don't forget to include how many refugees we have, and any technology we have to offer in exchange for a home. From the sound of things, they'll like the FTL drive a lot."

Roslin nodded. "Just let me get my things," she said.

"Of course," said Adama, bowing out of the room. He walked through the corridors, unfamiliar yet unchanged, almost like he'd never left the ship.

"Commander Adama, the President of the United States is on line one. Commander Adama to CIC, ASAP."

"Now what?" Adama muttered. What new offer were they going to force on him this time?

CIC was on half duty, seeing as they were in standard orbit and at condition three. The Terrans hadn't posed any threat yet, and he hadn't expected them to. He nodded to Hoshi and picked up the phone. "This is Commander Adama of the battlestar Valkyrie. What can I do for you?"

"I'm President Warren, of the United States of America. I understand you're about to launch an envoy to Moscow, is that correct?"

"That's what I told your intermediary," Adama said. "It should be launching now."

He looked at the DRADIS console. Sure enough the Raptor was approaching the atmosphere, about to commence the dive to Moscow airspace.

"Admiral, I implore you not to open negotiations with the SSR. The effect your technology could have on the balance of power in the world is beyond comprehension. And I'm only talking about the technology we have seen, you marvelous faster-than-light drive. That alone could lead to chaos."

"Mr. President, we are going to negotiate with all the powers, and see who has the most to offer. If you want us, and our technology, you can follow the same rules as everyone else is following. I don't take well to threats and demands. We'll hear each nation out equally. There is no bias in the decision we come to."

"Admiral, how can I convince you of the situation if you refuse to discuss it? I have been trying to reach you but I have been constantly told that we would be dealt with in order. Admiral, we must talk! There must be some-"

"Sir!" said Gaeta, at tactical. "A coded transmission is being broadcast, but I can't trace the location. It's been relayed so many times, and it's scrambled so badly, I can't..." His console then rang out. "One of the weapons platforms has come online!" He checked his board again. "It's a Russian one!" he reported in disbelief.

"What's it doing?" Adama barked. "Set condition two throughout the ship. Alert Vipers to the tubes!"

"It's launched!" Gaeta shouted, and Adama could see smaller contacts leaving the satellite.

"Engage suppression fire! Hold the Vipers!" Adama ordered, but it was too late.

The smaller contacts approached the larger icon. Two big contacts appeared, false images put out by Swallows deployed from the Raptor. That diverted two missiles, while the other two clipped the shuttlecraft. The Raptor spiraled into the atmosphere.

Moscow, SSR

"That the missiles came from a Russian satellite, there is no question!" Benson almost shouted. "That an untraceable communication came from the surface before the attack, is also undeniable. Madam President, do you deny that you attack an unarmed envoy on the way to negotiate with you?"

Beria wanted to laugh in Benson's face, but her composure remained impassive. "Mr. Ambassador, while the evidence you have stated does imply that we launched the attack, I can assure you we did not. I does not benefit us to attack those who we would negotiate with, those who could, at any time, disappear without a trace." Her face remained calm but her eyes glowed. "But it does benefit you, does it not? And I would not put it past the CIA, or the ineptitude of our inexperienced Satellite corps, to allow the United States to get her hands on an activation code. If I were to want the technology, I could send a code which would send ten satellites launching more substantial weapons, to disable their starship and take the technology." She tightened her grip on the arm of her chair. "They might turn to you, now that we have proved untrustworthy."

Benson had been getting redder and redder as she spoke. "Are you insinuating that we somehow used your satellite to attack the envoy?" When he saw no indication from Beria, he took it for a yes. "We did no such thing!"

"If and when the Colonials do settle, I'm sure they will want retribution for what occurred. And if it turns out you did it, and they settle your territory..."

"If we didn't do it, and you didn't do it, then who does that leave?" Benson asked tactfully.

"We both know. And we both also know that any of the SSR's allies could have obtained codes, even as worthless as the one used." She ignored Benson's splutter. "Of course it was worthless." Beria said. "A more valuable code would activate far more potent weaponry on far more unmanned weapons platforms, not a single conventional satellite. But it may have been China. It may also have been the Shia Confederacy. But the question remains: what now?"

"We must continue the negotiations," said Benson. "They still need a home. And their fleet can't stay in orbit of Tau Ceti for ever."

"No, they cannot." Beria did not mention the Activity, who was en-route and had probably arrived at that very planet. Perhaps there was more to the situation than met the eye.

"But perhaps we can work a way around this," Benson said. "Could we, for example, discuss this all in one group?"

"You mean a committee? You mean so every offer made by one party is known by the others? I find this unacceptable for the Soviet Republic."

"Would it give anyone an unfair advantage?" Benson asked? "Or will you just take the party hostage if you got them alone?"

"I don't appreciate your tone, Mr. Ambassador." Beria had to restrain herself from hissing at him. "I suggest you keep your place! As I said, this attack seems to further your agenda, not our own. Logic seems to be my side. Either this is a fortunate coincidence, or your superiors haven't told you everything."

"I'll contact them immediately, if I may?"

Beria waved him out, being careful not to seem impatient and relieved. When he was gone, she paged Chekov to bring in some tea.

The Soviet Republic had definitely not fired the missiles, at least as far as she knew. Unless the NKGB, the new intelligence arm, had decided to act unilaterally, which wasn't impossible considering Vasili Gromyko was in charge. He hadn't always approved of her policies, and the only reason she kept him was because he knew where all the bones were buried.

"Your tea, madam President?" Chekov interrupted.

"Yes, yes, thank you." She turned to her paperwork again. "Our ground radar reports that the ship crashed on our side of the border with Chechnya. Get General Gorbacheov to send a recovery team, and check for survivors."

With that out of the way, she had another problem. She had to find out if any Russians were responsible for the attack. If not, she was out of danger, relatively at least.

If so, she was in a lot of trouble.

Tau Ceti II

"The Colonials are starting to get interested," said Patterson as he ate his MRE. "What if they start nosing around another part of the planet?"

"That's not our concern," said Captain Hollingsworth. "But even if they do find out what's happened, what are they going to do about it?"

"Seize it," was Patterson's automatic reply.

"But there's nothing of value in there." Hollingsworth said. "It's the same environment as Tau Ceti, unfortunately."

"So what's happening, sir?" Patterson asked.

"They're coming down to have a look, and if we want to stop them, we're welcome to." Hollingsworth shook his head. "Colonel Naslund sure has his hands full up there."

The air was shattered by a sonic boom high above.

"Is that them?" Patterson asked.

"I'm a Captain, not a radar." Hollingsworth snapped. "But you're right, it couldn't be anyone else."

Sure enough, it was one of the stumpy beige shuttlecraft the Colonials used. It howled down out of the sky to make a perfect landing on the sand, kicking up a massive dust storm.

The Terrans waited for the sand to settle before approaching the strange craft. It was short and stocky, with a bubble canopy not unlike an attack helicopter. It looked more like a stubby airplane than a shuttlecraft. But Terran shuttlecrafts had been slowly progressing in this direction. It would probably look less strange to someone back home.

The hatch on the side of the craft opened to reveal some decidedly military types. The flight suits were easily recognizable as such, but were of a different colour than the standard issue used by the United States Air and Space Force.

"I'm captain Eli Hollingsworth." said Hollingsworth. "Welcome to Bajor."

"I thank you for not trying to stop us from coming down," said the officer in charge. She hopped down from the wing of the craft. "I'm Captain Sharon Agathon of the battlestar Galactica. We're here about the cloud."

"Cloud?" Patterson exclaimed.

"This cloud," Agathon pulled out a photograph from one pocket of her flight suit, and handed it to Hollingsworth.

"Where did you get this?" he asked. "We've been covering the anomaly."

"We came in from a distance." Agathon said. "But your setup doesn't seem to be protecting the anomaly from outside interference. I'd say it was almost exactly the other way around... One way or another, Admiral Greer got Colonel Naslund's permission to investigate the anomaly."

"We've got to tell them what it is," said Hollingsworth.

Patterson was inflamed. "Do you know what you're saying? The whole secrecy thing when we launched-"

"Was to prevent other nations knowing what had happened!" Hollingsworth snapped at his subordinate. "These people are not from Earth, and perhaps you haven't noticed but they've got what caused this, or at least what we had hoped to get from the Experiment. An order's an order, and I have to follow it."

"Admiral Greer sent me down here." said Agathon. "He wants to see you, or someone who knows what this is, up on the Agrippa. So who's coming?"

"I'll go." said Hollingsworth. He turned to Patterson. "Until I get back, Lieutenant Yeager is in command." Patterson nodded.

Agathon stepped back onto the wing and moved forward into the cockpit section of the Raptor.

Battlestar Agrippa

"Welcome aboard the battlestar Agrippa, Captain." Greer said. Hollingsworth had been ferried up in the Raptor, and led to Greer's quarters by Sharon Agathon.

"Thank you." said Hollingsworth, tacking on a hasty "Sir." at the end.

"I think you know what this is about," Greer said. Hollingsworth nodded. "Want anything to drink? Coffee, tea?"

"Tea." said Hollingsworth. "Earl grey, hot if you please."

"Don't worry about the heat, but I'm afraid we don't have much in the way of Terran tea... Would you like some Piconese cherry tea instead?"

"I'm game," said Hollingsworth. "I assume you want to know about the anomaly."

"Correct." said Greer. "Start at the beginning, mind you, I want to understand exactly what's happening."

Hollingsworth nodded. "I'm probably the person best suited to that job. I'm one of the science officers aboard the Activity." He leaned back in one of Greer's leather armchairs. "It all started in the early 2000s. Those are our years of course."

Greer nodded. "Of course."

Hollingsworth continued. "With the new shuttles coming into service in 2015, NASA, along the the military, started research into technology that could put us miles ahead of our competitors. We kept the project top secret, naturally, unlike our concurrent development of the atomic motor, which should've been the intermediate step. Unfortunately, in our haste to make a mockery of the other space powers by launching the first faster-than-light ship before they'd launched their first atomic starship, we weren't careful enough. We'd launched two atomic starships, the first of their kind, and had begun construction on the third, which eventually became Activity. It was in 2023 that we tested the first drive. We did that in orbit, and programmed it to warp to Tau Ceti, which had been picked at random."

"You intended to send a drone there and back again," said Greer.

"Exactly! To prove it had been done." Hollingsworth sighed. "It was an unmitigated disaster. The probe never returned. And all along the flight path, the FTL drive had left some strange anomalies. We don't know what happened. These anomalies just appeared. But we do know one thing..." Hollingsworth leaned forward. "The past exists!" he whispered, as if it were a great secret. "It is as real and concrete as the present! These anomalies are somehow gateways to the past. And because of that, the Activity was converted to a massive cold-sleep starship designed to follow the flight path of the probe, and collect data when it passed an anomaly. We also sent a ship full of colonists to construct a research outpost, and also to start the world's first colony out of our system. Our mission is to find the anomaly, which we have, and close it."

"But it's been open for the forty years it took you to get here." Greer pointed out.

"Hence the weaponry." Hollingsworth said. "We, and the passengers of the Shackleton, are to return anything that came through back to its original time."

Greer took another pull from his cup. "Sounds pretty fantastic to me. We never had any problems like that."

"Were you on the flashpoint of global war?"

"Maybe worse." said Greer. "Where we come from, mankind is spread out through twelve different planets." He paused for a second, and corrected himself quietly. "Or they were. But when we first developed the drive, we weren't unified."

"We rushed," said Hollingsworth, "We made a mistake, and it cost us dearly. Unfortunately the Shackleton is still a month away, and we've already discovered tracks close to the camp. That doesn't mean that the indigenous creatures haven't ventured too close..."

"If you need any military support, we can deploy marines to assist your troops until the other ship arrives."

"Thank you, Admiral. That would be much appreciated."

"What are you expecting to find?"

"Hopefully nothing. Maybe animals, or, god forbid, intelligent species." Hollingsworth scratched his head. "We have to be careful, see? We could change someone's history. Or we could change our own. Atmospheric readings taken in the anomaly seem closer to Earth than Tau Ceti, unless it's so far removed from this time period that the air is different."

"Whatever it turns out to be, you have our support." said Greer. "Besides, I'm sure the troops would love something to do on solid ground, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. The civilians are raising quite a racket on account of your anomaly."

"I'm sorry, Admiral, but I have no control over that thing. I still haven't figured out a way to close it. That's why we're trying to prevent anything from escaping it."

"One more thing though," Greer started. "Has your government hinted at all that it would try again, before you left?"

"I should think not," said Hollingsworth. "That would be a mistake. Until we can find a way to close them we cannot risk opening any more. And if you'd allow us access to your FTL drives, we might not have to."

"That all depends on Admiral William Adama and the negotiating skills of President Laura Roslin." said Greer. "That's all, Captain. You can return to the surface now."

"Thank you, Admiral." Hollingsworth rose to his feet and left the room.

White House, Washington D.C., United States of America

The situation seemed to be getting worse all the time. The Russians, of course, denied having anything to do with the attack on (and possible murder of) the Colonial President. That was an act of war, only whomever had done it wasn't owning up for that very reason. Nobody knew what the Colonial ship would do if it found out the perpetrator, but it wouldn't be pleasant. There was a whole fleet waiting to settle some part of Earth, and it was possible some of that fleet was military. Even if it was only a few ships, the FTL drive in thoery allowed them to appear without warning, devastate a couple dozen cities with nuclear ordnance, and then vanish before the retaliation missiles left the atmosphere. Even one ship posed a serious threat. Whether or not the FTL drive allowed them to do that was another question, but it was too big of a question to risk.

For the moment, anyway. The Colonials were still more willing to deal with the Russians, even after what had happened. The Russians (providing it was them) had pulled a fast one and gotten away scot-free. And without the Colonials' top negotiator, the Russians might have a diplomatic advantage.

"Come in," said President Andrew Warren. The reports from the various intelligence services littered his desk, with many (sometimes contradictory) explanations on what might have happened. They hadn't come up with anything conclusive yet.

"Mr. President," It was Tasha Janik, Warren's adjutant. "I have Defense Secretary Malcolm here,"

"Very well, send him in." Warren said, disposing yet another CIA report unceremoniously into the paper shredder. Couldn't have anything sensitive leak out.

"Mr. President," Ian Malcolm said as he stood in front of Warren's desk. "Things are getting tense, I understand."

"You don't know the half of it. Sit down," Warren massaged his temples as Malcolm did so. "In science fiction, they always land here and lay waste to the place or we attack them... This is just bizarre."

"Wells or Asimov sure never thought of the Russians interfering with things, least as far as I know," Malcolm admitted. "But the fact of the matter is we are here, and so are the Russians."

"Point taken." Warren said. "But what do we do about it? The Russians are already catching up to us technologically, due in no small part to my predecessor's infatuation with the securing of the entire Middle East."

"That did put a severe strain on our fiscal situation, but we're recovering nicely," said Malcolm.

"Not fast enough!" Warren burst out. "We've squandered away a sizable lead! During the Cold War we always had economic superiority, and most of the time a small technological advantage to boot! All they had wrapped up was quantity. Now they have a more solid economic base, and they have quantity. If the Colonials land there, they could have all three advantages and then we're screwed, if you'll pardon my french."

"We still have an economic lead over them. Unfortunately, by keeping their currency artificially regulated and keeping up relations with China and the various other Asian powers, they can at least keep up."

"I didn't think it would ever come to this. But the tension has been growing, and the arrival of the Colonials has made it impossible to ignore any longer." Warren said ominously. "We're now on the flash-point of a third global conflict, the likes of which man has not witnessed before."

"What are you suggesting?" Malcolm asked, not liking the implications.

"What would happen if we were to get the Colonials technology?" Warren asked. "The gap would be restored, and the tension would ease."

"True, but what if the Russians make a better offer?"

"We might be forced into a position where we'll have to use military force to get them to listen to us. I don't know how, but we have to keep them away from the Russians. We can't let them get into a position where the Russians can have their undivided attention. Russians are good at misinformation, their population doesn't know what's really going on half the time. What if they stiff the Colonials too?"

"And if the Chinese..."

"They'll never go near them, they aren't as yet advanced as us or the Russians." Warren was already running through the logistics in his mind, a skill that had won him the presidency. "I want to pull the USS Sentinel back from the asteroid belt. Maybe that'll give them pause. And we'll also bring back Columbia and Enterprise. What ships do we have in orbit?"

"Rathburn and Cyclone are in spacedock."

"Five should be enough. Not that we have too many more anyway... And have Canaveral get every A-47 in the air that we can."

"Right sir." said Malcolm. "Are you sure this is a wise idea? I don't know how reasonable it is to jump to military force without trying negotiations."

"There hasn't been too much negotiation. Admiral Adama hasn't been taking kindly to our insistence, although that's partly my fault. Unfortunately he sees it as us trying to order him around instead of a genuine plea. I'm hoping that a little show of force, nothing more, will get him to sit up and pay attention."

"That is a very fine line to walk. If he gets the wrong idea... We'll look guilty for the attack earlier."

"So do the Russians," Warren replied. "The situation they've blundered into could jeopardize the world, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"But why military force?"

Warren smiled. "Adama's military. If a soldier recognizes anything, it's a show of force. It'll get his attention like nothing else will. I was a soldier too, remember? From man to man, this will work. I'm sure of it."

"Very well sir. I'll get the Joint Chiefs informed of the action we're about to take."

"You do that. And may God have mercy on all of us if I'm wrong."

Battlestar Valkyrie

William Adama stared into space. The observation deck was empty, as it usually was at this time of morning. The sun was rising over the main continental mass on Earth, the same continent the Russians and Chinese both occupied. He didn't know what to think now. By all accounts, Laura Roslin was dead.

He had always found the prophecies true. They had led the fleet to Kobol, allowed them to find the Eye of Jupiter, they had even predicted the President's cancer.

So why had he ignored them this once? Why had he let her leave the ship?

For that matter, why did he bring her along?

There was no way I could have known. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

The chances of Roslin having survived were slim to none, and he knew it. The negotiations were now on very shaky ground. He hadn't brought along the vice-president, Tom Zarek, and now he was wishing he had. He didn't know how much Zarek could be trusted, but negotiation skills were one thing the ex-terrorist had in abundance. He had weaseled his way out of the Astral Queen and found himself VP. That alone proved his negotiation skills.

But it had taken Valkyrie five jumps from Tau Ceti. And he didn't have a Cylon computer to fit to a Raptor, and he didn't have Captain Sharon Agathon to run it even if he did.

Which meant he was now lead negotiator. And after the fiasco at Tau Ceti he didn't trust himself any further than he could throw himself.

"Admiral Adama to the CIC. Admiral Adama to the CIC asap please."

At this time in the morning?

Adama left the plate-glass observation port and picked up the phone. "Adama, sitrep."

"Admiral, this is Commander Nelson. DRADIS just picked up a large vessel approaching us at sublight speeds. It's not a known Cylon configuration, and we're proceeding on the assumption that it is Terran."

"Very well. Does it look like it poses any danger to us?" Maybe someone trying to finish the job started earlier. That narrowed down the list of suspects, for only three countries that Adama knew had space capability.

"I'd say there's a very good chance. I'm picking up muted muclear radiation from the bow and very high radiation levels at the very stern. And the length is impressive as well. It's twice as long as a Mercury-class, but has comparable mass readings, so it's a lot less dense."

"Set condition two throughout the fleet, but do not, I repeat, do not make any aggressive moves!"

"Sir, two more starships approaching us. Smaller than the first, about a quarter the size. The patrol Raptor also reports two more of the smaller starships moving out of spacedock."

"Continue at condition two. I'm on my way." Adama hung up the phone. Five starships. Only the United States had that many ships. And they were without a doubt more advanced than the Activity had been.

He pondered what the situation could mean as he ventured to CIC. The Americans had profusely denied taking part in the attack, and seeing as it had been a Russian satellite he wasn't about to convict them. But the Russians had made some claims of their own that held water, forcing Adama to wait for more clear evidence to incarcerate either nation, had either of them done it. The Russians seemed to point at one of their allies, they just didn't know which one. And they were always suggesting America as the culprit.

"What've we got?" Adama asked as he entered the command centre.

"We have images of the large ship." Nelson said. "It has the identification markings of the USS Sentinel, as you can see."

The DRADIS display was replaced by a colour image of the starship. It was definitely of a more advanced design. The front section of the ship, about as large as the Valkyrie, was a cylinder encased lengthwise in a square scaffolding. The scaffolding had several hardpoints, most of which were occupied by missiles of various sorts. Along with two anti-meteorite lasers that looked as if they could carve up several cities from orbit, the Sentinel certainly seemed to have an impressive complement of weapons. Again, they were based more on a shoot-first doctrine, one that involved shooting as much ordnance as fast as possible to overwhelm the opponent before they knew what hit them. The cylinder inside the framework rotated, giving the crew inside a kind of artificial gravity. This was at the expense of having curving decks and bulkheads, but they hadn't discovered true artificial gravity yet.

What drew Adama's attention was the engine emplacement. An atomic motor, the largest Adama had ever seen, was mounted on a reinforced gantry that extended out the rear of the ship proper. The boom was as long as the crew compartment, and in conjunction with the engine effectively doubled the length of the ship. This explained the unusual mass readings for a ship of that length.

"Have they hailed us?" Adama quickly asked.

"Negative, sir. No change." relayed Nelson. "I don't like it though."

"Sir!" cried Hoshi. "I have the President of the United States!"

"Put him through." ordered Adama. He glared at Nelson. "I think you're right. They're not happy with us, and I can guess why."

"This is President Andrew Warren of the United States."

"This is Admiral Adama of the battlestar Valkyrie. You mind telling me what this is all about?"

"I assure you that no shots will be fired if necessary. We must ask you to refrain from sending down any more shuttles to Moscow without having heard ."

"Not by you, I hope," Adama replied. "It sounds to me like you were behind the incident that involved the death of our President!"

"I assure you, Admiral, we were not. This is only a precautionary measure. In order to preserve world peace and stability, we must prevent you from negotiating with the Russians."

"Peace and stability? So you get the technology, and superiority over the planet? That will get you peace, but not the kind you're looking for."

"Admiral, at this point I'm willing to take any kind of peace over global war. We've already had two of them, and it almost destroyed a continent. Now with nuclear weapons we can destroy a planet."

"And if you continue to dictate to us, I may have to remind you that your countries aren't the only ones who can sterilize your planet!" Adama was becoming more and more agitated with the American President's grim determination to prevent him negotiating with the Russians.

"Adama, if you leave me no choice, I will have to take action. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"We have come hundreds of lightyears! We have travelled for over two years since our twelve homeworlds were destroyed, and this planet was the only thing that kept us striving for something!" Adama was on the verge of shouting now. "This is hardly the welcome we expected!"

"Admiral, you failed to take into account that we have our own serious problems right now. You have upset the balance. If you had come earlier, or later, things might have been different. We need to make sure the ramifications aren't too vast. You are welcome to send a shuttle down to our capital. Otherwise you may leave orbit."

"I warn you, Mr. President, that we are not to be taken lightly!" Adama slammed the phone down, and almost abruptly calmed. "They want to intimidate us by their show of force? I think it's time for a little demonstration. Stand by to launch Vipers!"

"Wouldn't it be wiser to just negotiate with him?" Nelson asked.

"I have every intention of talking with him," said Adama. "But acquiescing at this point would be a sign of weakness. I just want him to know we're not the type who will be pushed around." Adama looked at the DRADIS display. "By risking open conflict, it shows how desperate he is. He believes we're making a serious mistake."

"But the Russians believe the same thing about the United States. This proves nothing more than we already know about this crazy situation."

"One at a time. You see, I thought President Warren was trying to gain an advantage for himself. But if he's willing to risk his nation over a negotiation difficulty, there's something greater at stake, wouldn't you say?"

"I guess..." Nelson was still unconvinced. "Vipers are ready to launch."

Pentagon, Washington D.C., United States of America

General Trent pushed the intercom button on the conference phone. "Gentlemen, the President is listening to you."

"I'm here," came the voice. "What have we got on their ship. I have a feeling they might try a show of force in response to our own."

"That's what I'd do," said Admiral Greene. "The question is, how will they do it?"

"We outnumber them five to one." said Brigadier General Patton, looking at a projected radar display of the six ships in orbit. "Now their starship might be more advanced than ours, but we still have that numbers advantage."

"From photographs taken from satellites and space stations, we can see that the ship is designed around a different combat strategy than our own. We have found several turrets, but we do not know what their attack method might be. However, on the sides of these two pods, we can see several tubes. I'm guessing these are missile tubes, although they are a little large. I can't imagine anything else that could be used."

"So these are like arsenal ships in space?" Warren asked.

"That's one theory." said Greene. "If this is the case, they could launch a devastating salvo. I count at least twenty tubes per pod."

"But there is one problem," said Patton. "They aren't placed pointing forward, so they don't make very good ship-to-ship weapons."

An adjutant knocked on the door of the conference room madly. Trent opened it. "If this isn't important, you'll hear about it later!" he barked.

"Yessir." said the adjutant. "General, we're picking up some activity from the Valkyrie, sir."

Sure enough, the radar signature of the Valkyrie had blossomed. It was as if she had exploded.

"Get me some eyewitnesses!" Trent snapped into the scrambler. "What do the starships see?"

"They appear to be small, one man fighter spacecraft, sir. Extremely maneuverable, almost impossibly so. The meteor lasers are the only things that'll track 'em. They've completely flanked all five ships, but are not firing, I repeat, they are not firing."

"What?" Trent was completely deflated. If those ships were armed with cannon or missiles, they could fly to point-blank range and tear the starships apart. The large ship-to-ship missiles each starship carried would be useless against craft that small. Had this been anything greater than a demonstration, he would have been seriously concerned. But did the Colonials know it was only a demonstration? It was a substantial risk President Warren was taking only to get their attention.

"Another squadron of them is entering the atmosphere."

"Launch Interceptors!" Trent ordered. "They are free to arm but do not fire, I repeat, do not fire!"

Viper N4563R, Captain Marcia Casse

"All Vipers, steady up!" Showboat ordered. "We're at cruising altitude now!" She nosed through a cloud bank and rolled level. They were over open ocean now, and ahead should be the port city of San Francisco. They were to do a quick flypast, and then return to dock with Valkyrie. This was all part of the show Adama had set up. Independent of that Casse had arranged for a little aerobatics display to put the population at ease. Just to make sure they didn't think they were under attack, Casse would give them a free airshow. Why not have a little fun?

Her DRADIS beeped insistently at her. "Valkyrie, Showboat, I've a got a dozen contacts at ten, rolling in to intercept. We'll circle them and then continue to primary."

The Mk.VII rolled over and banked hard. In the atmosphere they were sluggish compared to the freedom of space, but were still extremely maneuverable. They were superior to even the Colonial Air Force's Mk.XI Thunderbolts, and were the first starfighters to serve alongside aircraft.

Her DRADIS beeped again, and every single contact disappeared.

Casse checked the firmware, which was fine. All her diagnostics showed that the avionics were functioning normally. So where had the contacts gone?

"Valkyrie, Showboat, contacts have vanished, I repeat, contacts no longer register."

She scoured the sky ahead of her. Massive banks of white fluffy cloud painted the blue sky, but there were no black dots. Her entire squadron had picked up the signals, where had they gone?

She checked her computer again. No glitch.

Her Viper was suddenly buffeted by severe turbulence, almost like a jet wash. She frantically peered out the perspex canopy, but no joy. The DRADIS was empty except for her squadron.

She then looked left, and saw an aircraft. Only according to her DRADIS, it didn't exist.

The black fighter was low and very sleek. It had twin tail fins, twin jets, and a low fluid shape that looked more organic than mechanical. The canopy was a bubble cockpit much like her own, and a pilot looked back at her through a sun visor. He was that close.

She looked to her right, and saw another one. Above her was another. And yet her DRADIS was clear, not even a flutter. These planes should not exist. And yet they did.

"Valkyrie, Showboat. We're surrounded. I repeat, we are surrounded."

Battlestar Valkyrie

"Get me the President!" Adama ordered Hoshi.

"Aye, sir." Hoshi reestablished the comm link. "You're on, Admiral."

"President Warren, it appears as though we have a stalemate," said Adama.

"Your squadron is free to return to your ship any time it wishes to do so." said Warren. "That is, of course, up to you."

"Mr. President, your ships may also retreat at any time."

"It appears we have both surprised each other with hidden weaponry," said Warren. "Are you still willing to negotiate?"

"I believe I understand your motives, Mr. President. As soon as both our forces stand down I'll come down myself. I only hope your concern is serious enough to merit this incident."

"I thank you, Admiral." said Warren. "If I didn't believe it to be a crisis situation, I would not have gone to the extents I did. There are just some things you should know." The connection was broken.

"So he was only posturing?" Nelson asked.

"So was I, to a degree," said Adama. "I personally don't believe he was willing to pull the trigger at all. Living on the brink of nuclear war gives a leader a good sense of when to push the button. He is seriously concerned for his country, as he said, to go to this length."

"What about the Russians?" Nelson asked in confusion.

"As I told the President when we first arrived, they are in no position to demand anything. They warrant no special treatment. But if there's something I should know, I'm going to find out about it. This is going to be our home, somewhere."

"You're a better negotiator than you let yourself believe."

"I'm just a soldier, and I can read a situation like this one. Negotiation?" Adama shook his head. "Different thing entirely."

"Different or not, you're our guy by default."

"Recall our Vipers. And get a Raptor ready."

Sorry for the hiatus. Exams took up a lot of time. Hope I didn't jump the shark with this one, I just wanted a little more action.