"We'll wait for Lynch to get back," he decreed.
"Is that wise?" Starbuck asked. "We're losing our chance."
"Yes. We'll wait."
"Captain Adama?" The voice sounded strange, like the speaker had trouble pronouncing some sounds, and said the vowels oddly. It certainly wasn't one of his squadron.
"Who was that?" He asked.
"Admiral Istia Fenway, Terran Fleet. Mind telling me what you're doing in my solar system hiding behind a comet?"
He hunted for words, mildly stunned.
"Frak me," Kara muttered.
"If that word means what I think it does," The dry voice said, "Then sorry, lady, but I'm already married, and my tastes don't run to women. Thanks for the offer, though."
Someone laughed. Lee finally found his tongue. "I didn't know it was anyone's solar system. We just came for some supplies."
"A statement which begs a wealth of questions," She said. Fenway. What sort of a name was that? Was there any Admiral Fenway on the Colonial Fleet rolls? And what was the Terran Fleet, anyway? Where was this Terra? Or was it Terr? "Let me put it another way. Are your intentions hostile? And I am talking about your people in general as well as the ships with you in particular."
He worked his mouth hard. "We're not here to start a fight," he said.
"That's it? 'We're not here to start a fight'? Well, I doubt you're on the same side as that ship we blew up given you're cowering behind a comet at the moment, but I'd like to know who they were and how many more are coming up behind them. Not to mention where you all fit into this little jigsaw puzzle we've got here."
"What's a jigsaw puzzle?" Kara asked. Lee wanted to kick her.
"They're Cylons," he said simply. "We're at war with them."
"They're not anything to do with the Kangas, are they?"
"Who are the Kangas? I've never even heard of them."
"How about Trolls?"
"What are they?"
"Well, that answers that one. If you'd met them, it would have made quite an impression. They tend to do that, usually right after they've wiped out a planet or two." The cold even voice made his stomach clench. Had they wandered into a war even worse than the one they were escaping? "Alright, Captain Adama. Let me put it this way. I'm not going to get annoyed over invasion of territory or some such idiocy; what I'd like to do is send a ship back with you to your home…"
"No."
"Why not?"
"We won't lead a ship of people we don't know back to our home." No need to give away what that 'home' was.
"Alright. We probably wouldn't just give you the coordinates of our home planet either. How about a shuttle, or a single fighter?"
Lee wished like fury he could ask for advice on a private channel, but he didn't have one. And how the hell had they cracked the naval codes in the first place? Could he ask advice and still be leader?
He thought furiously. "We'll take a single ambassador. But not on one of your ships. On one of ours."
"Hold on a moment." There was a click.
"Lee, what the hell are you doing…"
"Captain, we can't just…"
"If we…"
"The President said…"
"Everyone shut up," he said. "They might still be listening."
"We are," Fenway said. "We'll send one person, in a space suit, out to your location and you can take them back to your fleet or station or outpost or whatever, alright? But I won't send them unarmed, and I will expect them to communicate within twenty-four hours, or there will be - how do diplomats put it? An Incident." He could hear the capital letter. "I will not just abandon one of my people, Captain. I expect them back."
"I understand," Lee bit the words off. "I will pass that message along to my commanding officer and the civilian authorities." Was that too pompous? No, it was just right. He couldn't take responsibility. Not sole responsibility, anyway. He only commanded a Viper squadron.
"Alright," Admiral Fenway said. "How long before you have to go back?"
"Not long."
"What, an hour, a day, a week, ten minutes…"
"If we use the same units of time, about an hour."
"Alright, I'll have our best diplomat pack fast and dispatch a cargo shuttle. Don't be surprised if it's armed, pretty much everything in orbit here is."
"One condition, Admiral," he said. "We are at war with the Cylons…"
"So we shouldn't go giving them information? I'm not completely ignorant of how the game is played, young man. We will do our very best to give them no information that we do not also give you, but if they wish to establish diplomatic relations we'll give anything they say the same consideration we give to what you say. That's all the promise I'll make."
Lee thought about it for a moment. They had taken out a Cylon scoutship with a single missile. There were multiple ships in orbit, and this wasn't their home world. It might be a major colony, a tiny outpost or anything in between. They could use the weapons. They could also use the protection. And supplies… perhaps some kind of trade deal could be negotiated, if they had anything these people wanted.
"Alright," he said. "Make sure whoever you send has plenty of air. It's several hours to get back."
"Alright. I'll tell our newest ambassador to pack a bag." There was a pause. "We won't stop recording your conversations. I'm telling you that in all fairness; you're welcome to record anything about us you can. For us, that's normal operating procedure. If anything about this can be considered normal."
"Alright, Admiral Fenway. We'll wait for your… ambassador."
"Thank you, Captain." There was a click again, as if she'd stopped transmitting.
"Lords of Kobol," someone muttered. "That was strange."
"Who the frak are these people, Apollo?" The Federia's captain asked.
"I have no idea," he admitted. "I guess we're going to find out soon."