Chapter 2
BATTLESTATION ALCUBIERRE – XANADU SYSTEM
"Identity disks, please."
The guard at the interior desk was all business as he required Captain Malcolm Jackson and Lieutenant Commander Lena Stenger to insert their credentials into a slot built into the armor-glass cubicle where he was stationed. Jackson was a tall man of African American descent, with a muscular build perfect for a wide receiver or safety on a professional football team. He was forty-one, but looked younger. His colleague, Stenger, had recently been promoted into her rank. She was a woman of medium height, with an athletic build and an attractive face framed by blonde hair, both of which strongly reflected her Teutonic heritage.
Soon, when the guard's computer had identified them as the people who were expected, a green light flashed on the man's control panel. As the pair retrieved their disks from the slot, the guard pressed another button on his panel, opening the door that led down a hallway. Then he saluted them and said, "The admiral is expecting you," before they proceeded down the passageway. Moments later, the pair halted in front of a heavy armor-glass door and before Jackson could press the announcement button on the wall next to the door, the panel slid open and an order to enter was given.
Beyond the portal was Vice Admiral Dennis Amato's office. The Admiral whose face plainly showed his Asian heritage was seated behind his massive desk until, at the sight of both Jackson and Stenger, he rose to greet them.
"Malcolm, Lena, good of you both to come so quickly." Amato then guided them toward a man who was slouched on the couch across from the Admiral's desk. The man appeared to be about ten to fifteen years older than Jackson, with a large nose, a delicate chin and a slightly pock-marked face. He had a beverage in his hand and appeared to be totally relaxed in their presence. "Malcolm, I believe you know Mario Alfano, the Secretary of Planetary Affairs' troubleshooter."
"Yes, sir. I've met Mr. Alfano when I served as the Fleet's liaison to the Alliance Senate five years ago."
Alfano smiled and rose off the couch to shake Jackson's hand. "It's nice to see you again, Captain Jackson. Why, if I recall, you reported on how Fleet Intelligence had terminated the terrorist activity on the former Syndicate planet of Dunholme. You people really hit the ball out of the park in cleaning up that mess!"
"We were only doing our jobs, Mr. Alfano."
Alfano flashed a grin at that. "So, you're both effective and modest! I like that in a man, Captain. I think Dennis here has picked the right man to lead this mission." Then he turned his attention to Jackson's colleague. "Hello, I'm Mario Alfano," he said reaching out to shake her hand.
Lena shook the man's hand and said, "I'm happy to meet you. I'm Lena Stenger."
"Malcolm, Lena, do either of you care for anything to drink?" Amato asked.
Jackson shook his head. "Nothing for me, sir."
"Just some water would be fine, Admiral," Lena added.
Amato fetched some water for her then said, "Why don't you all have a seat and I'll tell you an interesting story."
After everyone was seated, the Admiral in an arm chair, Alfano, Jackson and Stenger on the couch, Amato activated his holoscreen and pointed to an image of a strange-looking vessel. "A few hours ago, the brain ship destroyer Huntress ran across this small craft in a system approximately ten light years rimward from Xanadu. According to the crew of our brain ship, the craft didn't transition from hyperspace like one of our vessels; there was an energy surge then it just popped up out of thin air. However, even stranger than the appearance of the craft is the fact its crew is entirely human yet they have no knowledge of the Alliance of Planets or the Syndicate of Worlds whatsoever."
"They don't know anything about the Alliance, the Syndicate or the Fleet, sir?" Lena asked.
Amato nodded. "That's right. According to my friends on the brain ship, these people had no knowledge of the First Imperium, either. And the brain ship crew had a hard time talking to them at first until her crew realized that these people didn't have a universal translator. In fact, the crew had quite a time figuring out they had to talk to them using a bastardized version of Ancient Greek."
"That is quite interesting," Alfano noted. "So, what did they have to say to the brain ship crew, Dennis?"
"Well, that's the part of the story that concerns me the most. They claim they're the remnant of several worlds that were colonized by their human ancestors. Unfortunately, these worlds were all annihilated by some creatures they refer to as 'Cylons.' Apparently, the survivors of this apocalypse have been on the run from these things for the last two years or so in search of refuge on the planet...Earth."
"Earth?!" Jackson exclaimed. "If they supposedly don't know about the old Imperium or the Alliance, how would they know anything about Earth?"
"That's the hundred thousand credit question, Malcolm…and that's why I need someone to go and find the answer."
Although Jackson felt the bottom drop out from under him, he was careful to allow only the carefully crafted look of professional interest to show on his face. "I take it that's where Lena and I come in, sir."
Amato smiled warmly at him. "Mal," he said, his demeanor switching to an intimate one, "we need people with good heads on their shoulders to look into this for us and I need someone I can trust to act independently yet prudently. With the Sakquas stirring things up in this sector and the hassles of dealing with a nearly hostile population of former Syndicate citizens on this planet who see us as little better than the lizards that tried to bomb Xanadu back into the Stone Age, we need someone to meet with the leadership of these alleged refugees and assess the situation. Tell me, who better than a pair of spooks, particularly a spook who was my old XO on that cramped corvette that was my first command?"
Jackson sighed deeply and simply nodded. He couldn't fault the Admiral's logic. Amato and he were almost as close as brothers and trusted each other completely. Also, it made sense to send intelligence operatives for several reasons. Spooks were trained to use diplomacy and observation to acquire information from their targets. They also knew they often had to operate without having the benefit of a safety net under them.
"What is the mission, sir?" Jackson asked simply.
Amato sighed, shot a glance at Alfano then turned his gaze on both Jackson and Stegner. "After Sickbay tweaks your implants to help you communicate with these people, you both are to take my gig to System XA-4312 and rendezvous with the F.S. Huntress by 1230 local time tomorrow. You will transfer from my gig to the Huntress and await the arrival of the refugee's small craft which should appear approximately at 1346 local time. You will advise the refugees that you are willing to return to their mother ship to meet with their leaders to discuss their situation and any humanitarian needs they may have. Then you are to persuade them to return the both of you to the Huntress so you may contact us. Now, I have ordered the brain ship to remain on station for one week. Make certain the refugees understand they must return you to the Huntress before the week is up. After your return, you will provide a report to me via hypercom so Mr. Alfano and I can determine if the risk of allowing the refugees to approach Xanadu is warranted in light of their pursuit by these Cylons. Any questions?"
"Sir, what are the constraints Lena and I are operating under for this mission?" Jackson asked.
"Mal, you're in command, of course; Lena you're there to provide Mal support and to assume command if something happens to incapacitate Mal. Try to find out as much as you can about these people but do nothing to antagonize them because you'll be on your own while you're with them. Until we know more about these people and the problems they have with the Cylons, you are not to commit the Fleet to battle the Cylons on their behalf at this time. You can provide assurances to them, though, that we will send a patrol to protect them from any attacks by the Sakqua. You may also commit to provide them with food, medicines, and medical care. However, we cannot provide them with any arms or ammunition until we get a better handle on their situation; however, if circumstances warrant, if you think it best to provide small arms to them, I'll back your play. Well, that's all I have for you both. Mal, Lena, can I count on you?"
Jackson turned to his partner and she nodded once. Then he turned back to the Admiral and said, "Aye, aye, sir!" his voice demonstrating his utmost conviction for the mission.
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After the pair of Fleet Intelligence officers had left Amato's office, Alfano took a sip of his drink then said, "Jackson's a good man. I'm glad he's going on this mission."
"Yes, he's the best. And young Lena is well on her way of following in his footsteps. Now," Amato leaned toward Alfano, "do you have any word from the Senate on the status of Mal's appointment?"
Alfano grinned. "President Hrrunalkar sent me the message herself. B'ghra told me his appointment's in the bag."
Amato smiled. "That's good news, Mario. Thanks for running interference on that for me. I've seen how being a spook has hardened Mal over time. Now that he's found a wonderful woman on Xanadu, he seems more at peace with himself. He's perfect for the role I have in mind."
"When will you tell him?"
"Hopefully, we'll have the official word by the time he returns from this mission. The position's open now, so I'll transition him immediately."
Alfano smiled and said, "Well, I suppose I should drink to that!"
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BATTLESTAR GALACTICA – COLONIAL FLEET
Admiral William Adama scrutinized both of the officers who stood at attention before him like a drill sergeant searching for signs of weakness in a pair of raw recruits. "And you're certain they said they were from Earth?" he asked as both Lt. Gaeta and Colonel Tigh stood by awaiting an answer to Adama's question.
Racetrack, with the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on her pretty face, nodded fervently. She was still flying high because she knew that Skulls and she were going to go down in history as one of the saviors of the fleet for finding the Thirteenth Tribe alongside the Admiral and President Roslin. Why, she'd never have to buy a drink for herself in a bar ever again! Then she remembered it was probably for the best if she answered the Old Man's question out loud. "Yes, sir! That's what they said, sir!"
Admiral Adama nodded to his pilot and asked, "Tell me more about their ship, Margaret."
"She was about half the size of your old battlestar, the Valkyrie, maybe three hundred meters from bow to stern."
"Did you notice any weapon systems on her hull?" Adama inquired.
Skulls picked up the thread then. "Well, sir, they didn't fire upon us, so we didn't actually see what kind of weapons technology they might have. In fact, sir, their craft looked so 'alien,' I had a difficult time trying to determine if anything on that ship was recognizable to me."
Adama nodded then murmured, "A ship belonging to the Thirteenth Tribe" before he flashed a demure grin at each of his officers in the room. "Racetrack, Skulls…well done."
"Admiral, sir?" Adama heard the question in the woman's voice.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Permission to speak freely, sir!"
"Granted," he said. For gods' sakes, the girl had earned the right to say whatever the hell she'd wanted to say!
"Sir, I'm ashamed to admit I never believed that Earth was real. I just thought it was a fairy tale. I'm sorry I didn't have more faith in you, sir."
Adama smiled warmly at her then drew her into a tender hug. "Margaret, I'll let you in on a secret. The faith you have in yourself and your shipmates is the thing that counts the most. Every day, against all odds, both Skulls and you have always gone out, done your best and protected the ships of this fleet. So you've got nothing to be ashamed of, understand?'
After he released her from his warm embrace, Racetrack regarded him with a smile and tears of relief in her eyes. "Yes, sir!"
"Now, I need you to get your head in the game because you need to take me to Colonial One. President Roslin has asked for us to go there so she can hear your report first hand. Then she and I will decide who should return with you tomorrow to meet the representatives of the Thirteenth Tribe. Hopefully, we'll be able to arrange for their representatives to return with us to the fleet."
"Admiral," Colonel Tigh asked, "if we can get the Thirteenth Tribe to agree to that, do you think we may have to leave someone behind with them as a sign of good faith that we'd bring their people back to them?"
Adama had to stop for a moment to think upon that. "That's a good point, Saul. I'll be sure to bring it up to Madame President for her consideration."
As the officers began to leave Adama's office, the Admiral asked, "So, what was the name of the Earth ship again?"
"Her name is the Huntress, sir," Skulls answered. "And the woman who communicated to me from the ship is named Diana."
"The Goddess Artemis is the Huntress; Diana is the name the Taurons refer to her," Adama drawled. "I guess they do have the same gods we worship," he noted. Then he chuckled to himself as he recalled that Artemis was the sister of Apollo. Hopefully, when he told Lee all about what Racetrack and Skulls had found, his son would get a good laugh out of it.
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