Standard Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to a blessed thing when it comes to the principle characters or story. I'm just borrowing the lot of them for a bit for fun and games, not material profit. I also owe an enormous (Mercury-class Battlestar sized) thanks to my beta reader Pam Barker, who has given me the needed kick in the pants to give this my all from the start, and to The Sidhe, who provided a couple plot points. Thanks also to everyone who has written in so far; you're what keeps this story going! Remember, tho': More Feedback More Fanfic!
For reasons that will quickly become obvious, we're switching things around this time.
Dialogue in Colonial Standard is not bolded.
Dialogue in English is bolded.
Dialogue over the wireless is always in italics.
That all said, back to work…
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA
THE LONG ROAD HOME
Book II: The Summit of Pisgah
The following takes place concurrently with the events in Book I
The only response to Tigh's threat, which everyone who heard it knew was no threat at all…was a short laugh. It was chilling whether it was recognized or not; those few who did know it felt colder still, as it erased any doubts as to who was speaking.
"Since when did you ever 'respect' me, Colonel? When you threw the card table at me after I slapped down full colors and showed everyone what a lousy Triad player you were…or…or when you kicked me out of a chair and told me I was, quote, 'a malcontent and a cancer and you won't have me on your ship' unquote?!"
"You bitch!" Tigh heard himself growl before he could think otherwise. "You know I didn't say that…"
The voice over the wireless however was just getting started. "In fact, I want confirmation it's really you, Sir. Like I'm going to believe the Old Man would put you in charge of anything more important than a…a frakkin' Triad game."
"Is it really you?"It was a question and whisper and prayer all in one.
"If you don't believe me, go ahead and tell Costanza and others to shoot me down right now. I'll fly back over the River Styx itself and show you…"
"Is it you?!" Tigh actually winced as he shouted this, raw desperation he'd only heard once before.
The voice hesitated, then all but whispered, "It's me, Sir. It's really me." There was a paused, then, "Stand by, Nemesis Actual."
Specialist Eichya looked up and called out "Sirs? I'm reading a spike in transmissions along lower wireless bands."
Tigh looked up to see half the Bridge crew looking at him with saucer-wide eyes, while the other half were staring at the DRADIS as four new targets zipped into view. Tigh himself didn't spare it more than a glance before turning to Eichya. "Monitor and isolate whatever band they're chatting on. Then start recording everything you can and see if we can translate any of it." He then addressed his XO and CAG, both of whom looked as if they'd swallowed something foul. "Kelly, take the Con. You two, with me."
"Defensive posture, Sir?" Kelly asked after him.
"Place Wing Two on Alert but keep them on-deck."
"Standoff defenses as well?"
"Negative. I don't want to risk a bigger confrontation right now," Tigh replied testily, as if anxious to escape to the Bridge and many eyes dogging him.
This escape was thwarted when the wireless piped to life again. "Nemesis Actual, Starbuck."
Tigh scowled and picked up the handset once more, only barely managing to keep his tone even. "Go ahead, Captain." Only Helo caught how Kelly frowned at the rank Tigh spoke. Athena looked as if she were simply struggling for breath.
Starbuck's voice gave no sign of acknowledging the slight, instead stating, "Be advised I have been ordered by my commanding officer to return to my ship. My squadron is being reinforced and will keep you in sight, with orders to respond with maximum intensity to any provocation. You'd best pull your planes back and keep your powder dry."
"We'll take it under advisement, Captain." Gods help them all, Tigh sounded as if he meant every word.
"Continue to monitor this band setting for further communications. Starbuck clear."
"Acknowledged. Nemesis Actual, clear."
All eyes turned to DRADIS displays, watching carefully as one of the targets shifted and headed towards the bottom of the screen, quickly vanishing over the edge. Barely a minute passed before another flight of six bogeys entered sensor range, quickly arranging themselves in a wide matrix-like formation opposite the Colonial Raiders.
Tigh turned towards Conference Alpha, with the Agathons following close behind.
Conference Room Alpha
In some nod to coincidence, both Agathons found themselves standing on the opposite side of the room's table from their commander. Tigh was as still as the legendary Colossus of Areans when the door shut behind them, his balled fists pressing into the unyielding metal of the table itself with his one eye down turned. They said nothing, determined to wait out whatever explosion might be in the offing.
The Commander wasted no time in making his concerns clear. "You both heard...that. All of it." He raised his head just enough that his glare could be seen. "Tell me you have even the smallest shred of doubt about...about who we...who I was talking to just now."
Helo let out an unsteady breath. "I..." He stopped and glanced to his wife, who had gone still. Something unspoken passed between them, something Tigh suddenly felt supremely jealous of. Why hadn't he ever developed anything like that with Ellen, he wondered idly.
Helo cleared his throat forcefully and stated, "We don't have any doubts, Sir. That was Starbuck."
"She threatened to put a hundred rounds of HE through Costanza," Athena affirmed. "Classic Starbuck."
"Which all leads to the obvious question of...well, presuming it really is Starbuck, how in the nine frakking levels of Tartarus's Pit can it be Starbuck?" It was rare for Tigh to invoke the name of any of the twelve Lords, and rarer still for him to speak of either of the Afterworlds. He may have been Gamellion in heritage, but for whatever reason always seemed to avoid invoking any named place or personage from Colonial Faith.
Both his officers took his near-hysteria as simply the natural reaction to events. In truth, it was prompted by a virtual cacophony of nightmarish suspicions and equally horrid realizations. The former naturally revolved about his own question. That it was Kara Thrace who he'd just verbally jousted with was all but beyond question now, but how could it be her?
He'd been on the Bridge when she'd flown into that maelstrom two years ago, had heard Apollo's report of her exploding to pieces there. He'd reviewed both the DRADIS tracks and Apollo's own gun camera a dozen times since, frame-by-frame and second-by-second, but ultimately satisfying himself she neither ejected nor could have possibly survived.
Like the rest of the Fleet, he'd put no stock in Apollo's claims she had appeared to him in the nebula just weeks afterwards. He hadn't dared, more for fear of thinking precisely what he was now than because he'd thought the boy was cracking up.
But now? Only one other species he knew of could...return...from the literal dead. But the possibility, the very thought of Kara Thrace being one of...them...it was almost as insane as the thought that he and Tyrol, or Anders and Foster for that matter...
And if she was the last of the human form Cylons, what did that suggest about her supposed fellow pilots presently watching them? Were they a new model of Raider, or something completely different as his gut was telling him? Could he dare trust those feelings, when they were also telling him so emphatically that Starbuck wasn't a Cylon?
"We can't tell Galactica," he said, barely aware he was speaking aloud.
"Sir?" Athena asked, not sounding like she was about to argue, but not totally agreeing either.
"What are we going to tell them, Captain? That we've encountered ships that look a lot like our Vipers, and that one of them happens to be flown by someone claiming to be a deceased pilot?" Tigh shook his head, acknowledging how ridiculous it all sounded. "No, no. We need more, a damned lot more, before we even think of communicating this to the Old Man."
"I agree, Sir," Helo affirmed. "But we have to let them know, well, something."
Tigh gritted his teeth against his natural instinct to argue. Helo was right, and on more levels than he knew. Tyrol needed to know there was something up, if only so he wasn't as blindsided by events as when...
He shook his head clear and ordered, "Major, prepare a message to the Fleet, Admiral's eyes only. Tell him we've encountered...something unusual out here and are assessing the situation. Advise him that if he doesn't hear from us within the next twelve hours, the Nemesis is to be presumed lost and this system avoided. Make sure you get acknowledgment of receipt."
"Yes, Sir. No word about...Starbuck, Sir?"
"Don't even hint. Just say we're investigating those unknown contacts and await further word."
"Understood, Sir."
"Athena? Have Costanza and his wing come home. But I want Wings Two through Four on the deck and waiting."
"Very well, Sir."
Tigh fixed them with a look that was softer than a glare, but carried the weight of death in it. "Do not discuss this with anyone else. If anyone asks, just say we're waiting forproof of who's who. And make it clear I'll personally airlock anyone I catch telling tales. Dismissed."
The two saluted crisply and quit the room. Tigh picked up the nearest handset and paged Eichya. "Alert me as soon as we receive external transmission of any sort," he ordered, not waiting for acknowledgement before setting the handset back down. He bunched his fists once more and pressed them hard into the metal.
After a moment, he raised his eye to the ceiling and hissed "Why me? Why does it have to be me who is...here...for this? Wasn't there anyone better?"
The silence offered him no answers.
The Sadeim Nonmen believed in the same Twelve Lords as the rest of the Colonies, but gave special heed to an unnamed thirteenth. In ages gone by they had been shunned for this, and their line had long believed to be extinct.
But as with all things living, the Sadeim had simply adapted to their environment, their rituals and rites evolving so they were all but invisible. Their sacrifices to the unnamed one occurred rarely and only under precisely determined circumstances; even then, the deaths were carefully cloaked so no suspicion would be raised that their line lived.
When the holocaust descended upon the Colonies, the last of their line coincidentally had been undertaking pilgrimage upon the Gamanon Traveller, and so had been spared. Like a rational mind seeking to make sense of such things, the Sadeim simply took it all a sign of their patron's favor with them.
Roslin's call for them to return to Kobol and open the Tomb of Athena further reinforced this conviction among them. That this simple, uninitiated woman from Caprica quoted of the Pythia and fulfilled the prophecies was as sure a sign as any they might have petitioned.
Unlike many of their cousins, all the Sadeim had elected to remain aboard ship and eschewed the promises of New Caprica. The name alone was a poison to them, and the oversight of it all by Baltar endeared none of them. The choice proved wise later when the Cylons came in force and the fleet was forced to flee once more.
But it was the discovery of the Temple of Jupiter upon that unnamed planet that stilled their long-running debate on how to respond to events. Surely their patron demanded some sacrifice in exchange so many signs to them. That the Eye of Jupiter itself opened before them all and directed them the Mists of Ghosts could only be interpreted as a final command by the unnamed one.
And so plans were laid. The story told by Adama's own son, of sighting and even speaking with one known to be dead, was the final piece of proof. Sacrifice was now demanded, before the teeming dead descended upon their small fleet and extinguished humanity's light forever.
They waited their opportunity in the appointed month of Lyria, as decreed in their ways since the days when the Colonies were first founded. It was because of their ancestors that that month had once been known as "The Month of Blood".
It was always their way that sacrifices would be made amid celebration. Their unnamed patron was not jealous, despite his supposed exile from the pantheon, and asked his due always be given alongside that given the other Twelve.
Nemesis CIC
Fifteen Minutes since Contact
Tigh had only just returned to the CIC when Starbuck's voice rang out over the Comm speakers. "NemesisActual, Starbuck. Repeat: NemesisActual, this is Colonel Kara Thrace. Please respond." Tigh felt himself freeze like a Leoni mountain kangarat caught in a car's headlights, but quickly shook it off.
Picking up the handset and signed for Eichya to pipe the incoming transmission directly to him, he replied, "Starbuck, Nemesis Actual. We read you, Captain." Helo and Athena picked up their own handsets and listened attentively.
"I am aboard my ship and with my commanding officers."
Another voice then broke in, speaking in passable Standard. "This is Admiral Theodore Rice of the Terran Defense Fleet. Who am I speaking to?"
"This is Commander Saul Tigh, commanding officer of the Colonial Battlestar Nemesis," Tigh replied sharply. "Is Captain Thrace there with you?"
"Colonel Thrace is an officer under my command, Sir, and has earned my respect. I expect her to be treated accordingly."
In his remembered youth, Tigh had flown alongside the late Cornelius Adar during the First Cylon War and had been assigned to the combat carrier under the direct command of Admiral Xandar. Neither man had struck Tigh as especially noteworthy. He'd managed to avoid having to mingle with anyone higher than a fellow Colonel since the war; it would have been inviting disaster to attempt otherwise. Even his respect for Bill Adama was based expressly on the man; not a dram of it was wasted on the Admiral stars he presently wore.
Right then, Saul Tigh found himself almost grinning. Anyone willing to call him down like this was definitely worth knowing. He made his response sound appropriately subdued. "I apologize, Admiral. Cap...Colonel Thrace was formerly under my command, as I'm sure you've been made aware."
"We are. Enough said there, eh?"
"Exactly. May I ask what your intentions towards us are?"
"That would beour question to you."
Tigh looked over to his officers, who had been listening in. Neither Agathon looked like they had anything to immediately offer. "Has...Colonel Thrace explained our situation to you?"
Starbuck's voice quickly replied, "I have provided a general picture to them..." She was cut off by Admiral Rice's much sterner tone.
"She has explained in as much detail as she was able. I give you my word she has at no time been under any manner of duress nor has she compromised your fleet's operational security."
A meaningful look passed between the three of them at hearing this. Tigh let himself turn this revelation over in his head for a few seconds; these people knew about their situation, but were quick to claim Starbuck hadn't been coerced into giving the information. Starbuck herself had kept everything reasonably professional so far, their earlier exchange notwithstanding. Clearly the Agathons were having similar thoughts.
"You are therefore aware we are refugees seeking safe haven, correct?"
"We are. May I suggest this is a conversation better conducted face-to-face?" This brought all of them up short. Clearly these Terrans, whoever or whatever they really were, had put a good bit of thought into how this encounter should play out.
Uncertainty plagued Tigh especially. He could only say, "I was about to suggest precisely that."
"Acknowledged. Please stand by while I discuss this with my command staff."
The line went dead again, leaving the three Colonial officers momentarily adrift. "Sir?" Athena offered after a moment. Tigh merely nodded for her to continue. "I...Sir, that sounded like he was reading off a script. Like all this was...or has been...well, planned."
"You think they have protocols in place for non-native contact?"
"It wouldn't surprise me, Sir. Clearly they're on a par with us, technology-wise. Maybe even ahead of us given we can only barely detect their Vipers, and we've no sign of whatever ship they're carried within."
Tigh had come to similar conclusions subconsciously the same instant Javelin had sighted Starbuck's plane and noted how both were little more than sensory ghosts on DRADIS. Athena's points merely made him aware of it. He turned to his XO and asked "You have anything to add?"
"Just that their sensory packages must be better than ours. I mean, Starbuck somehow detected Javelin flying on their five, and Mauryn isn't a Rook pilot. Without seeing their hardware up close for examination?" The former ECO could only shrug. "I'm actually more puzzled at how good their command of our language is, and I'm worried about how fast they were to deny they had Starbuck under any hold or duress."
"Did she sound like she was under and duress?" Tigh asked him pointedly.
"No, Sir. A bit stressed, yeah."
Athena snickered at hearing this. "Gee, I wonder why."
"Enough," Tigh quickly stated. "Chasing our tails speculating isn't going to accomplish anything. Next contact I'm going to insist they come here and talk to us face-to-face, and that Starbuck be part of their group. We absolutely need to see her face and hear her voice before I even consider anything else. Agreed?"
"No argument, Sir," Helo affirmed. Athena nodded in turn.
"All right, then. XO, have our Marine compliment ready at action stations. CAG, same with our Air Group. Until we know just who and what these people are and what their intentions are towards us, I'm not going to assume they have our best interests at heart."
"What about Little Delphi, Sir? What should we tell them?"
"Just that we've got some visitors coming aboard and that they should keep clear." Tigh grimaced. "No sense in stirring up a panic if we can help it."
Specialist Eichya called over. "Commander, incoming message along a dedicated line."
"Send it over," Tigh ordered as he and the Agathons took up their handsets.
Outside Landing Bay One
One Hour, fifty-six minutes since Contact
Athena would never say she was the sort to fidget or pace. The often-hectic pace of their lives rarely left her an idle moment. It was a wonder she and Helo could find the time needed to devote any attention to Hera, never mind carve out as much 'family time' as they managed.
But now, waiting at the airlock which would open to Bay One, knowing what was on the other side of and not being able to go and greet it had her nerves afire. She was reduced to concentrating on her breathing just to keep from giving into the urge to pace. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was to infect the brace of Marines assigned to accompany her with her nervousness.
Instead she went back over their last transmission with Starbuck. "Be advised these people had suffered through a global pandemic fifty years ago." The implications there were worrisome to say the least. It was a cruel irony that these Terrans had suffered through a trial sounding similar to what the Colonies had gone through in nearly the same period. Her own people had gone through their own trials over the years, though Athena had kept such things to herself and neither the President nor the Old Man had ever asked her about it. Even Helo, God bless him, hadn't broached the subject with her.
She wondered about the survivor they'd found aboard Nemesis a year ago. What had that poor, broken creature seen to leave her so traumatized? Athena herself had been forbidden to see the survivor for some reason. She had respected the order and made it clear if she were needed, she would make herself available. Certainly Adama hadn't been shy in getting her opinion concerning Caprica and having the odd Q-and-A with the prisoner-turned-adviser.
But the survivor had been marked off-limits to her from the start. She didn't even know which model it was, save that it was a female. However strong her curiosity on it was, Athena respected the orders of her superiors and didn't press the issue. Marriage, motherhood and duties as the Nemesis CAG were quite enough to deal with, thank you very much.
Right then, Sharon Agathon dearly wished she'd could've brought some of the copious paperwork she had yet to work through, if only to have something to think about other than how desperately she wanted to throw open these doors and...
The wall-phone chimed loudly nearby. Athena quickly walked to it and answered, "Greeting party."
It was Specialist Eichya. "Captain, be advised the Terrans are breaking their first-stage quarantine in a moment. The Commander orders you do the meet-and-greet in five minutes."
"Understood," Athena stated and turned to the Marines. "On your feet, Marines. Meet and greet our visitors in five. Safeties off but fingers off the triggers." The four-man fire team straightened up and held their weapons at the ready.
Athena did the countdown in her head, starting backwards in her head from two-thirty, her nerves steadying and calming as she reached zero.
She hit the airlock release and stepped back, waiting for the door to shift away. At the last second, she motioned for the Marines to remain where they stood and elected to meet these new arrivals alone.
She managed five steps in before stopping short in shock at the sight of five large shapes lumbering towards her. She thought of the first generation Cylons for a moment. Only when they moved into the light did she see them for what they were: five humanoid figures in very bulky orange suits. The suits were identical and lacked any rank insignia or identification to distinguish among them.
Athena took a moment to debate and lay her money that the one sandwiched between the other four was Admiral Rice. She also started to question the wisdom of having the Marines stay in the corridor, given weapons they were clearly pointing in her direction.
Not knowing what else to do, she snapped off a formal salute…and was surprised to have it returned by one of the figures directly in front of her. She was even more startled by the words that came from the figure.
"Admiral Theodore Rice, Terran Defense Fleet."
Military training had her on auto-pilot at that point. "Captain Sharon Agathon. Operations Officer, Battlestar Nemesis."
"Request permission to come aboard, Captain."
"Granted, Sir. If you'll follow me, I'm to escort you and your party to our Command Deck." Athena quickly spun on her heel and marched back to the hatchway, not wanting to think about how fluent the Admiral's command of Colonial Standard was, never mind the number of guns possibly still being aimed at her back.
It would only occur to her later that she was likely exceeding her authority saying this. Then again, it wasn't as if the Colonial Fleet Officers Manual had regs for the various disasters and mishaps they'd all lived through the last half-decca. If indeed Starbuck had been living among these Terrans as she claimed, they must have been up on Fleet rank insignia. If an Admiral was content being greeted by a lowly Captain, who was she to argue?
She marched to the CIC, not once daring to even glance back. No doubt the Marines had fallen into place directly behind the Terrans, who in turn were doubtless shadowing her every step. A rare flash of foresight on Kelly's part had made sure the corridors between Bay One and CIC were all cleared beforehand.
It therefore took only a handful of minutes for them to reach CIC, at which point Athena was visualizing herself on a parade ground and presenting her Academy class for inspection. "The contact party, Commander."
Tigh was quick to bark out, "Visiting officers on the Bridge." Athena noted how the CIC had been effectively cleared of nonessentials, which meant it was just the CO, XO, and three Specialists. All of them nevertheless straightened and snapped off expert salutes to their five visitors. She noted all five did the same a beat later.
They all might well have stayed that way if the visitor in the lead, she presumed Admiral Rice, lowered his hand slowly. The rest of his party followed suit. Commander Tigh kept his own hand elevated a beat longer, and then lowered his own salute.
"Commander Tigh?" Admiral Rice offered in stiff Colonial, boldly stepping forward and extending his massive hand. He either didn't notice or didn't care that every Colonial officer and rating present tensed and was ready to spring forward.
Tigh cleared his throat, effectively ordering everyone to back away, and then clasped the offered hand. "Admiral Rice. This is…an honor, Sir." Those who knew him could hear the hitch in his voice as he reached for something intelligent to say.
"The honor is mine, Commander."
Neither man moved for a single, pregnant moment. They then moved away from each other slowly and put a single pace of distance between them. The entire CIC went completely still, waiting for either side to make the next move.
The suitcase-like device held by one of the other Terrans beeped, prompting the man to murmur something unintelligible to Rice. Tigh quickly asked"What was that?"
The Admiral quickly cleared his throat and explained "Our equipment is sampling and testing the air for anything that might prove contagious to us. Corporal Lewis was simply reporting an 'all clear'."
Tigh's mouth quirked slightly, relief washing through him. "I hope you aren't suggesting we're out to deliberately poison you all."
The Admiral's tone was however all business. "Certainly not, Commander. We're just being cautious."
Hearing this, Tigh visibly relaxed and nodded to his opposite number. "I should hope so, Sir." It was clear these people knew their business well enough he could let them take the lead for the moment. Lords knew he needed a bit of time to acclimate to circumstances.
To buy himself a bit more time, he turned and waved towards his XO and a couple of latecomers. "This is my Executive Officer, Major Karl Agathon. You've already met my Operations Officer and acting CAG, Captain Agathon. And these two latecomers over there are my lead pilot, Lieutenant Costanza, and our medical officer, Lieutenant Ishnay."He let only the mildest tone of reproach toward the last two, though this was more than enough to leave all present clearly embarrassed. He hadn't wanted those two to show their faces here just now; Kelly must have missed them as he relocated with the Second Watch crew to Beta Command. Ah well.
The Admiral gracefully nodded to each then did the same with his own group. "With me are Major Taylor, Sergeant Gaurland, and Corporal Lewis, all from my ship's Marine detachment."There was a breath-long pause, after which he stepped aside and allowed the figure behind his left shoulder to stand alone. "I believe you already know Colonel Thrace,"he finished.
No one missed how the four Terrans arranged themselves into a defensive circle as the figure offered a semi-crisp salute. A familiar voice greeted them. "Commander."
Tigh returned the salute stiffly, his throat hitching slightly as he responded, "C…Colonel." Without taking his eyes off her, he ordered, "XO, you have the ship for the next hour. Athena, Costanza, Lieutenant, you're with me. Admiral, if you and your party will accompany me to our Operations Room? We can discuss things better there." He was back to delaying actions again, utterly off-balance and having no idea how to handle this situation. Just about the only thing to recommend Ops was that it was an enclosed space and private.
Rice nevertheless seemed content to allow this relocation as he said, "Lead on, Commander." Tigh gave a sharp nod to Helo and led them all to Ops, which naturally wasn't much more than a planning table and couple of wall-mounted hand phones. The sparseness of the room embarrassed the Commander for some reason and he apologized for being unable to offer any of them chairs to sit in.
Rice replied, "Quite alright, Commander. We…can't really sit down in these…these suits…" His voice drifted off as the two parties arranged on opposite sides of the table. Nobody made any moves towards the other, but neither did anyone try to break the silence that stretched between them all.
A few however did jump when the only one present nobody was so much as glancing at piped up and stated "Sirs, perhaps I should leave the room…"
"No!"
This came from four different sources and was all but shouted at the same time. Tigh was the only one to actually flinch from this, though clearly everyone was startled by the outburst. After this everyone was staring or at least glancing meaningfully in Thrace's direction for another stretch of uncertain silence.
It was Rice who finally broke the impasse with a shake of his head. "Look, this is getting ridiculous. Agreed Commander?"
Tigh pulled his gaze away from the barely-visible face within thevisored helmet across the room and turned to face him directly. "Indeed, Admiral."
"No doubt you have some questions for us. And Colonel Thrace in particular?"
"Only a few thousand, Admiral. And no doubt you have some of your own, yes?"
"Yes."
Tigh looked to Athena, who only offered a quick nod of agreement. "Then please go ahead and ask them. I am sure Star...Colonel Thrace will translate if required. Acceptable for the moment?" The Admiral nodded. "One question of my own: would you care to move this somewhere else, or are you comfortable re?"
"Commander, my people and I are each wearing a stone-and-a-half worth of rubber and Kevlar that is environmentally sealed and lacks internal plumbing. 'Comfort' isn't in the cards right now."
Tigh couldn't help the smirk at the Terran's candor. Instead, he nodded gravely. "Understood, Sir." He took another breath. "How much has Colonel Thrace told you about us?"
Rice looked to Starbuck. "Colonel?"
Thrace stepped forward and appeared to address the opposite wall. Everyone notice how this conveniently kept her eyes off both sides. "I have provided as thorough briefing as possible of Colonial history, Commander. At no time have I been under any duress to do so, nor have I knowingly compromised the Fleet's operational security."
Tigh mentally noted how closely this mirrored Rice's earlier statement to them over the wireless. She was either reading off a script, or she felt as lost as he himself did. He nevertheless felt the need to add, "Including the attack by the Cylons."
"Yes, Sir.
Tigh wasn't sure if he was relieved or discomforted by this. Rather than dwell on it he turned back to the Admiral. "Do you require a formal request for our Fleet to enter this star system?"
"Do you intend to settle here, in this star system?"
"Possibly." This was as far as Tigh was willing to go, memories of New Caprica suddenly fresh in his mind.
Rice chose that moment put in "I'll need some further evidence you and your ship aren't a massive Cylon construct designed to trap us."
"Not convinced, are you?" Tigh addressed the question to Starbuck, laying an internal wager on her response.
"Would you be?"
Her tone was as challenging as ever, just on the edge of outright disrespect. Athena and her shipmates covered their amusement well. Tigh simply nodded, his normal frown deepening to an almost-sneer. "I'd have my weapon out at all times. If it were me, that is."
"Good thing then it isn't you, right? Might forget to keep the safety on, or keep the chamber clear."
"Colonel." This came from Rice, Tigh quickly jumping in to defuse the rush of tension among the Terrans.
"It's alright, Admiral. The Colonel and I…we know where we stand with each other."
"Yes, Sir," Starbuck affirmed. To Tigh she said, "I…apologize…if I'm too far out of line, Commander." There naturally wasn't a hint of apology to her tone.
"Accepted, even if I don't recall you ever being 'in line' with anything, Colonel." Deciding she'd had enough fun for the moment, Tigh addressed Rice. "Admiral? What sort of evidence will you require to be satisfied?"
"An explanation of how you acquired this vessel would be a start."Rice waved his hand about for emphasis. Clearly Starbuck had briefed her new crewmates on the basic differences between Colonial and Cylon ships.
Tigh decided he'd done enough talking for the moment and turned to Athena. "Captain Agathon, if you would?"
"Yes, Sir. Our fleet came across the Nemesis approximately a year ago according to our calendar. Has Starbuck…Colonel Thrace explained our system of time measurements, Sir?"
"She has."
"Very well. The decision was made to salvage the Nemesis, which was floating derelict at the time, and commission it into the Colonial Fleet under military control."
"You mean you found a frakkin' Basestar just floating about abandoned?" Starbuck's tone carried enough disbelief for the entire Fleet. Tigh couldn't blame her in the slightest.
"You can understand our, ahem, surprise at such a find. And God knows we weren't about to turn down a gift like this."
"Despite the possibility of it being a trap?"
"Naturally we considered that. Search parties however found…" Athena couldn't help the pause that came next. "There were…bodies…aboard…"
"Lots of bodies," Tigh caught himself murmuring.
"Cylons? Mechanical or…?"
"Both. The entire crew compliment."
"Mother of God…" Rice couldn't say more. Tigh caught his whispered exclamation and made a point to try discussing theology with the man later. "How?"
"We have some...some theories, but don't know anything definite," Athena stated bluntly. "There were no hull breaches and no indication of external engagement. There was wreckage surrounding it from what we believe was another Basestar and possibly a Resurrection Ship. You know what that is as well, yes?"
"Yes."
"Additionally, remember I said it was derelict, not abandoned. There was one survivor found. She was…is…badly traumatized by whatever happened."
"Which model?" Starbuck suddenly asked.
"That's for later. In any case, she isn't aboard this ship." Tigh's tone precluded questions along this line. He wasn't sure why he wasn't willing to part with this bit of information right then; perhaps simply because he still wanted to keep a few cards to his chest.
Rice evidentially took the hint and turned to more practical matters. "This brings us to the next issue. Colonel Thrace led us to understand there would be some 40,000 survivors coming. Surely they aren't all crammed aboard this one ship, Commander?"
"No, they are not. The remainder of our Fleet is waiting outside of this system. As our original message to you stated we are an advanced party, Sir."
"Phrased like that, given what we know from Starbuck, are you surprised how cautious we are?"
"Not in the slightest, Admiral." Tigh wiped the small bit of sweat from his pate and added, "I'm personally relieved by it, to be honest."
"Oh?"
Before Tigh could say anything in elaboration, the handphone behind him chimed. Athena quickly moved to answer it. As she did, Tigh noted how Rice, Taylor and Starbuck all moved into a small huddle and exchanged hushed words he couldn't understand between them. He strained to hear them, if only so to get a better idea of their native language.
Athena came back and murmured, "Four of their planes have moved off-screen. We're getting some ghosts on the DRADIS that might be more of their planes."
"I presume our Alert Wings are still standing ready?"
"Affirmative."
This apparently had been noticed by Starbuck and her Terrans. "Commander?" Rice called over, looking to Tigh specifically.
"An update from my XO, Sir."
"Something wrong, Commander?"
"No, no. Just a couple of your planes flew off just now."
"I see."
"And your own conference there? Anything we should know?"
"My officers simply suggested we have someone man our shuttle and re-establish contact with our ship."
"Which is where, may I ask?" Tigh personally held no hope that the Admiral would tell them anything concrete; no serious officer would.
He was therefore unsurprised when all Rice would say was "Nearby."
"You have a twelve-hour quarantine period before you can take those suits off, correct?"
"Technically," the Admiral nodded. "If you and your crew are willing, we may be able to cut that period short a little."
"How?" This came from Ishnay, whose normally irritatingly-pitched voice Tigh felt remarkably relieved to hear right then.
Rice waved to Corporal Lewis, who stated in patented Marine growl, "I can take some samples from members of the crew here and do some tests for possible biohazards in either blood or saliva with some of the equipment aboard our shuttle."
The term 'samples' set off alarm claxons in Tigh's head. "How many…samples would you need?" He hoped nobody heard the hesitation in his voice right then.
"Depends upon how many crew you have aboard. The larger the sample, the more confident we can be."
"I, uh, noticed Colonel Thrace doesn't appear to have suffered any adverse reactions to your atmosphere."
Admiral Rice cut in. "We're treating Colonel Thrace as a…special case."
Athena muttered something Tigh couldn't entirely make out. "What was that, Captain?"
"Nothing, Commander."
"Humph." He actually had a very good idea what his CAG had muttered, which simply mirrored his own thoughts. Instead of dwelling on it, he turned to his CMO and ordered, "Lieutenant Ishnay, you are to provide Admiral Rice's men with whatever assistance they require. Captain, pass the word this is a direct order from me." For all he knew he'd just ordered his crew to submit to involuntary organ donation. He nevertheless wanted to see how this played out and trusted his crew to ensure their safety.
"Aye, Commander."
"Admiral Rice? How long will it take your men to analyze the samples we provide?"
"Lewis?"
"I'd say five to ten minutes, depending on the complexity of the samples."
Starbuck gave something that vaguely resembled an actual chuckle at this exchange. Athena and Tigh both stared over at her. Before either could ask anything, Rice called to her. "Colonel?"
"Sorry, Sir. What was that?"
"The Commander suggested we continue this discussion while Corporal Lewis and Lieutenant Ishnay beginning testing fluid and blood samples from the crew. Does that sound acceptable?" Starbuck asked something in the Terran's native language, which sounded like a painful mouthful of consonants and syllables. Rice nevertheless replied in Standard, "Sergeant Gaurland will return to the shuttle and act as an internal relay for us."
The Admiral gave them an apologetic look and said, "The Colonel simply asked who would return to our shuttle, Commander. I'm sure she didn't mean to cut you out of the discussion or any manner of disrespect."
"That's alright, Admiral. As I said, Starbuck and I share a…long history." This sounded conciliatory enough that Athena and Costanza gave him an odd look. The sneer curving the Commander's lips reassured them he was feeling anything but.
It proved fortuitous that so many within the Fleet were of Sagittarian and Gamelian origin; or else, Roslin might not have agreed to a petition to celebrate the Feast of Dioyun. Despite its less-than-artful name, the celebration was one of the arts rather than of the stomach. That their fleet had found a small system with planets they might forage from was itself a boon and taken as a sign.
The Sadeim chose the last day of the Feast, which was week-long affair, as their moment to act.
It was fourteenth day of the month of Lyria, the Month of Blood that the four Sadeim Nomen moved to aid the Dying Matron in her final journey to rejoin the Circle of Pythias. But for the interference of her aide, they might have succeeded in their effort. Alas, the most they managed was to injure her further, but not severely.
The four died with the knowledge that they took her aide with them, her heart pierced twice and her chest opened wide.
How odd, then, that their victim opened her eyes and breathed once again not two hours later. The wounds the Sadeim had inflicted had all closed and healed.
Very odd, indeed.
TBC…