Chapter 8
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA – BRIG – COLONIAL FLEET
Adama studied the three individuals presently cooling their heels inside his brig and wondered if they truly were who they'd claimed to be. While they were being held, he had Hadrian examine their gear and had Cottle inspect their physician's medical kit. Neither the marine nor the doctor found anything of interest.
As he continued observing the trio of Fleet officers, he asked Racetrack who stood nearby, "What can you tell me about these people, Margaret?"
"Sir, after we docked in their boat bay, an apparently unarmed Captain Jackson met us and led us to a nearby conference room where the other members of his party and the commander of the Huntress were waiting for us. After some small talk, Captain Kelly asked them how they could speak Caprican so well. They told us, in actuality, they couldn't speak a lick of it. Instead they use a device that translated our words for them and allowed them to translate their thoughts into our language as they spoke to us."
Adama grunted. That sounded both fascinating and alarming all at the same time. "Is the device built into their suits?"
"I'm afraid I haven't a clue, sir. At first, I thought it was some piece of equipment installed inside their conference room. Now, I don't think that's the case since they continue to have the ability to communicate just as effectively here on board the Galactica."
"All right then. Please continue."
"Admiral, they showed us holograms of two alien creatures. The first was something they called a Hrruban. It's a large, bipedal cat-like sentient creature with saber teeth. The Hrruban have been allegedly close allies of the Thirteenth Tribe for centuries. The second was a hologram of their current enemy, the Sakqua. Sir, think of a legendary centaur from our sacred scrolls mixed with one of the heads of the hydra who the minor Lord of Kobol, Herakles, defeated. That's the best thing I could come up with to adequately describe one of those…things!"
He fought hard to suppress the shudder he felt at Racetrack's nightmarish depiction of the creature. Then he asked, "Did they give you a sense of the human population of their society?"
"Well…sir," she demurred, "you may find this hard to swallow—it came as quite a shock to us as well when we'd heard it, I can tell you. Anyway, they claim they have six trillion humans spread across hundreds of planets."
The Admiral's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he'd heard that. Then he shot a sideways glare at the young woman and rasped, "Are you certain you heard that number correctly?"
"That's an affirmative, sir."
Immediately, his gaze snapped back to the Fleet officers confined in his brig. If true, he thought, far from being the last human beings in the galaxy, his Colonial remnant was barely a blip on the screen of the mass of humanity that constituted the Alliance of Planets!
He shook his head, attempting to clear that disturbing thought from his mind. "Is there more?"
"I'm afraid there is, sir. They've arranged to take Kelly and Kat to their nearest base to meet with their admiral. Our officers are then supposed to return to the Thirteenth Tribe's ship inside the nebula in three days. As for our guests, they'll be with us during that time. After that, Skulls and I are to return with Captain Jackson's party and retrieve Kelly and Kat. Additionally, they've committed to provide warships to protect our fleet until Starbuck's mission returns from Caprica."
As he thought about the unpleasant possibility of having an unknown power's warships anywhere near his civilians, Margaret noisily cleared her throat to gain his attention. "What else do you have for me?"
"Sir, there are a few things you need to know about the conversation we had on their ship. Kelly told them about the Cylons and the skinjobs."
A somber look clouded the elder man's face. Oh well, he mused, I suppose that cat is out of the frakking bag!
"And, sir? Captain Jackson and his party told us they have indisputable proof that Earth is the cradle of humanity, not Kobol."
At that alarming piece of news, a furious Adama wanted to fling the table in the observation room over on its side. However, it wouldn't do to lose his composure in front of a junior officer, so he remained cool. Yet, the grimace on his face plainly showed how concerned he was about the pending conversation with the representatives of the Thirteenth Tribe. If the discussion degenerated into a pissing match over whether Earth rather than Kobol was 'really the cradle of humanity' between them and Roslin, the whole diplomatic initiative could degenerate into a clusterfrak of epic proportions!
"Sir," the Raptor pilot said lowly, "it may also interest you to know they claim to have directed energy weapons."
He shot a hard look at the girl and snapped, "You're not yanking my frakking chain about that, are you, Lieutenant?"
She shook her head vigorously. "Absolutely not, sir! Both Captain Jackson and Commander Stenger mentioned it in passing. It's my understanding they have both ship-based and personal directed energy weapons."
After having his entire world view rocked during the past few minutes by his pilot, Adama gathered himself and asked, "Margaret, what does your gut tell you about these people?"
Without any hesitation, she squared her jaw and said, "Sir, I'm impressed by them, especially by Captain Jackson. When he saw our Alert Guard, the Captain ordered my ECO and me to exit the ship ahead of them and to stay out of the line of fire so we'd be able to bring both Kelly and Kat home. And sir, did you notice how the Captain exited my ship first while the rest of his party remained behind cover until he determined it was safe for his party to disembark? Admiral, he's just like you. He places the welfare of his people above himself."
Adama's face didn't show it but he was a bit surprised both at how the girl had gushed over the Fleet captain and at the high opinion she had of himself. Although she was a dedicated pilot, he'd known for some time that Margaret had been so scarred by the destruction of the Caprica by the Cylons, she'd believed she was fated to die in a pyrrhic battle with the toasters. Indeed, that fact had been as plain as the nose on his face after he'd watched the girl's interview with that reporter, D'Anna Biers.
Now here she was excited due to the thoughtfulness of a Thirteenth Tribe's officer for her well-being. That reflected well on the Alliance of Planet's officer and shamed Adama because he realized she hadn't received that much support from her own leadership.
"Well done, Margaret. Thank you for bringing me up to speed on our guests. While they're aboard the Old Girl, I want you to serve as their liaison officer. Do you think you can handle that?"
She smiled brightly at him. "Yes, sir!"
"All right then. I want you to go to the Life Station and ask Dr. Cottle for a sitrep of the medical tests he's running on them. After they're completed, I'd like you to bring Cottle to me. I'll still be here waiting for you both. If he and I are satisfied that they pass muster, you and the doctor are to escort our guests to the conference room just down the corridor to meet with Commander Adama, Colonel Tigh, President Roslin, and me."
"Yes, sir," Racetrack said before she snapped a sharp salute. Then she turned to exit the room and carry out his orders to the letter.
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BATTLESTAR GALACTICA – BRIG – COLONIAL FLEET
"Well, it's not the Hilton," Jackson noted brightly, "but this holding cell isn't so bad. At least they didn't shackle us to the floor."
A somewhat perturbed Dalle grumbled, "I'd agree with you except for the fact they've stuffed us in here like sardines in a can."
As they peered out through the bulletproof glass that enclosed their cell and waited for the ancient warship's physician to complete their blood tests, the Fleet officers knew they were being monitored. However, they weren't concerned about it. They'd
deactivated their implants' translator application and conversed with one another in universal to avoid providing their 'hosts' any information they weren't ready to disclose at this time.
Lena turned to Dalle and asked, "So, Doctor—"
He cut her off gently and said, "Lena, please, after sharing such close quarters with you and Malcolm, I'd like it if you'd just call me Ian."
Smiling wryly, she said, "Well, I suppose we should forego the formalities then, Ian."
"Thanks. Oh, and I apologize for interrupting you. What was it you wanted to ask me again?"
"What are the Colonials looking for in our blood work?"
Dalle gathered his thoughts for a moment before he answered her. "I don't know but if I had to guess, I'd say they're probably checking our DNA markers to determine if we're human. Once they've determined the first part then they'll check to see how long it's been since people with our markers have cross-bred with theirs."
"What do you mean by that, Ian?" Jackson asked.
"Well if these people are sophisticated enough to travel through interstellar space, they should have the medical capability to determine from their tests that their people haven't mated with ours over several millennia, which is a good thing for us since they're probably looking for something that would reveal we're possible Cylon infiltrators."
"Why do you say that?" Stenger asked.
"Well, if I were the Cylons and were trying to infiltrate the Colonies, I'd make damn sure my infiltrators' DNA markers were a close match to the Colonials'. If they weren't then it would have been fairly easy for the Colonials to have uncovered the infiltrators through a simple blood test."
Stenger nodded. "I see. So how would you go about the business of uncovering Cylon infiltrators?"
He shook his head and said, "Until I've had the chance to examine either the preserved body of an infiltrator or a live one, I wouldn't have the foggiest notion on how to approach the prob—"
Just then, the guards escorted both Racetrack and the grizzled old physician who served as the ancient warship's chief medical officer into the brig. "Open the door, corporal," the white haired doctor commanded while Jackson gave Dalle and Stenger a discreet signal to reactivate their implants' translation application.
The guard complied, allowing the elder man and Racetrack to enter their cell. "Your blood tests check out," the physician said in his gravelly voice. "And Dr. Dalle? My findings agree with yours. None of you are carrying anything that would endanger my people so I have no objections to you removing those environment suits."
"Thank you, Dr. Cottle."
"Don't mention it," the gruff physician muttered. "The guards will bring in your gear shortly. If you'd prefer, we have a head where you can shower before you change into your clothing. Lt. Edmonson can escort you there."
"That sounds like a good idea, Dr. Cottle," Ian said. "I believe we'll take you up on your generous offer."
Cottle simply grunted and turned to Racetrack while several marines delivered the Fleet officers' duffel bags. "Lieutenant, take them to the pilots' head and make certain you get them some shower sandals, soap and towels for them to use." Then he turned to the three Fleet officers and said, "Now don't go in there and think you're in a gods' damned spa. The Admiral wants you to meet with him forty-five minutes from now."
"All right, Doctor," Jackson said. "Lt. Edmonson, please lead the way."
With that, Jackson's party picked up their gear and followed Cottle and Racetrack out of the cell with two of the marine guards trailing close behind.
#
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA – CONFERENCE ROOM – COLONIAL FLEET
They showered together in a unisex head, which didn't bother Jackson or apparently Stenger yet clearly agitated Dalle because the Doctor fought hard to avoid staring at a nude Lena and grumbled something that sounded like, "God damn people on this ship have no freaking concept of privacy" under his breath. Afterwards, they dried themselves off in a locker area and changed into their dress uniforms. Soon thereafter, Racetrack and the pair of guards escorted the trio of Fleet officers to a hatchway. Racetrack knocked on the hatch and they heard a muffled command to "Enter." The Colonial lieutenant opened the hatch and led them into the room.
It was a medium-sized conference room, nondescript, with no decorations whatsoever. Inside the room standing at the head of a rectangular table alongside Admiral Adama were another elder man in uniform who was bald on top with white hair on the sides of his skull, a young man in uniform who bore some resemblance to Admiral Adama, and a woman who appeared to be both a little tired and in her early fifties. She wore an attractive business suit that wouldn't have looked out of place on one of Alex's female colleagues. Jackson also noted, by her knee high skirt, that despite her apparent age, the woman had an exquisite pair of legs that would have given Alex's a run for their money.
Admiral Adama stepped forward and announced, "Madame President, I would like to introduce you to Senior Captain Malcolm Jackson, Commander Ian Dalle, and Lt. Commander Lena Stenger of the Alliance of Planets' Fleet. Captain Jackson, Commanders Dalle and Stenger, I would like to introduce you to Laura Roslin, the President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol."
The three Fleet officers saluted the woman crisply and their courtesy was rewarded with a regal nod of her head. "Madame President," Jackson said, "On behalf of the Alliance of Planets, the planet Earth, and my superior officer, Vice Admiral Dennis Amato, the Commanding Officer of this sector of space for the Fleet, we welcome you and your people and offer your fleet the protection of our warships from the Sakqua."
She gave them all a graceful smile and said, "Thank you, Captain Jackson. We appreciate your warm welcome." Then she turned to the Admiral and said, "Admiral Adama, would you please introduce the other members of our party to these fine officers."
"Of course, Madame President," the Admiral said in his gravelly voice. "Captain, Commanders, this gentleman," Adama indicated with a sweep of his hand toward the bald man, "is Colonel Saul Tigh, the Executive Officer of this ship. While this young gentleman," he indicated with a look of pride, "is Commander Leland Adama, the commanding officer of the Battlestar Pegasus."
Jackson tried to determine if the two Adamas were truly related in some fashion then decided to put the issue on the back burner for now. Now he and the members of his party shook the hands of the other two men in the room and took the seats on one side of the table while the Colonial officers seated themselves on the opposite side. Finally, President Roslin seated herself at the head of the table close to both Jackson and Admiral Adama.
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After Admiral Adama had excused Lt. Edmonson from the room, Laura Roslin turned to the dark and handsome Fleet captain and said, "I would like to thank you for your patience and forbearance during your stay in this ship's brig, Captain. I hope you understand we needed to determine you were indeed human and not an attempt by our enemy, the Cylons, to infiltrate us."
"Think nothing of it, Madame President. After all, we understand the prudence of caution after the tragedy that has befallen your people. However, we did want to cover a few items during our initial discussion with you."
A lazy smile dawned on her face. She liked fencing with this smooth-talking, apparently intelligent man! "And, pray tell, what sort of items would you like to cover, Captain?"
He apparently caught onto her word play because he returned her smile. "Well, Madame President, based on the conversation we had with your Captain Kelly aboard our vessel, you're a refugee fleet fleeing from the 'Cylons.' He also mentioned you came looking for your lost 'Thirteenth Tribe.'"
"That's correct, Captain. Our sacred scrolls tell us there were thirteen tribes of man who resided upon the ancestral home of humanity on the planet Kobol. The scrolls say the Thirteenth Tribe left Kobol two thousand years before the other twelve tribes left to form the Colonies. It is said 'the Thirteenth Tribe traveled far and made their home upon a planet called Earth which circled a distant and unknown star.'"
Jackson simply nodded and kept his own counsel for a few moments. Then he sighed heavily. "Madame President, Earth is the capital world of the Alliance of Planets. However, I regret to inform you that Earth is actually humanity's ancestral home, not Kobol."
Laura was stunned by the man's pronouncement. She glanced down the table at Bill, Colonel Tigh, and Apollo and found her feelings were reflected on the faces of two of them. However, Bill had seemed to have taken the man's declaration in stride.
Although she pledged to herself she'd get to the bottom of the little mystery regarding Bill's non-reaction later, she somehow managed to maintain her composure and said to Jackson, "Captain, are you absolutely certain about the veracity of your claim?"
"I'm afraid so, Madame President. We have evolutionary evidence and historical records to prove it. In fact, we have ancient structures that still exist on the face of the Earth today that are almost twelve thousand years old and these structures pre-date the years encompassed by your sacred texts."
"Madame President," Doctor Dalle added, "we have biological and fossil records that show our species has been around for more than a hundred fifty thousand years."
As Laura struggled to overcome this shock to her system, Commander Stenger said, "Madame President, gentlemen, it is not our intent to offend you or to attack the sacred words of your faith. The Captain, the Doctor and I are not theologians; we're unqualified to engage in religious discussions with you. What we are here to discuss is the potential threat your fleet faces right now."
"What threat are you referring to," Lee Adama asked, a suspicious look on his face.
"I'm referring to the Sakqua, Commander Adama," Lena said. "The Sakqua is a non-human species we've recently encountered. They are a warm-blooded saurian species similar to one of the ancient species that became extinct on Earth millions of years ago. These creatures have six legs and two arms. They're kind of a centauroid similar, in some respects, to mythological creatures from one of our ancient religions. Several months ago, a few of their vessels dropped out of hyperspace near our most populous world in this sector of space. They never tried to communicate with us. They simply launched hundreds of nuclear missiles at the planet. Fortunately, our meager, at the time, planetary defenses interdicted the missiles and either destroyed or captured the attacking spacecraft. We managed to interrogate some of the prisoners we've captured and have been told these vessels were part of a minor scouting party. We were also told the Sakqua had ships that were larger than the ones that had attacked our world."
"Was there a reason they decided to attack you?" Roslin asked.
"According to our prisoners, a human ship showed up over one of their worlds about ten years ago. They considered that event as an omen their entire species could be exterminated by us, so they decided to strike first. They captured the ship, killed her crew, and studied the vessel to assimilate our technology. Fortunately, the ship was a merchant vessel and possessed neither the armament nor defenses of one of our warships."
"Well, I guess that puts you in same frying pan as us; we know what it's like to have somebody trying to wipe your people out!" Tigh exclaimed.
"It's not the first time someone has tried to take us out," Stenger said coldly, "and we'd like to find a peaceful resolution. However, if we have to bomb them back to the Stone Age to protect the Alliance, well, I'm okay with that. Right now, though, the important thing is your fleet. If the Sakqua happen across your ships, they won't hesitate to attack."
Tigh grunted. "Well, that puts a crimp in my day! We can't leave, Commander. We have to wait here until a flight of our Raptors return from its mission."
"Colonel, when do you expect them to return?"
"My best guess? Two to three weeks."
Everyone was silent for several moments before Jackson said, "In that case, I think the prudent thing for us to do is to have Vice Admiral Amato dispatch some warships he can spare to screen your ships until your Raptors find their way home. Unfortunately, my party isn't scheduled to return for another two days, so it may be three days before we can send reinforcements to support your battlestars and aerospace fighters."
"Sir," Lena asked, "may I make a suggestion?"
Jackson smiled at the young woman and said, "Please do."
"Captain, Lt. Edmonson could take me back to the Huntress today. Once we're aboard, I can ask Captain Adu to take her ship out of the nebula and transmit a hypercom message to Admiral Amato. With luck, the reinforcements could arrive tomorrow evening."
"That's a great idea, Lena! You've earned your paycheck for the week!"
"I'd rather have earned your paycheck for the week, sir," she quipped.
He smirked at her while everyone else in the room chuckled.
Then Jackson turned to Laura and said, "Of course, Madame President, Admiral, sir, we'd anticipate that allowing our warships to join your fleet would be somewhat…uncomfortable for you. Therefore, we're prepared to commit to you our warships would be subject to your direction as the fleet Commander-in-Chief until we can get your vessels under our guns in the Schlein Gamma system."
Laura barely held back the grin that threatened to break out on her face. Wow, she mused, this guy is a shrewd operator! Although she knew Bill would be hesitant to allow foreign navy vessels near the fleet, considering the threat posed to them by the Sakqua, not to mention the possibility of a Cylon attack, after Jackson's commitment, she suspected Bill couldn't look this gift horse in the mouth.
Now she smiled warmly at Jackson. "Well, Captain, I must say you've certainly given us a lot to consider."
"I understand, Madame President. My party would be happy to leave the room to allow you and your officers to discuss our proposal amongst yourselves. Before we go, though, I'd like to ask you about the Cylons. If they're so hostile they'd follow you across the galaxy, we require more information about them so the Fleet can prepare to deal with them…appropriately."
She nodded affirmatively. That was only fair. If her people had brought their nemesis to these people's doorstep, it was only right to be straight with them.
"Very well, Captain Jackson, what would you like to know?"
"It's my understanding from my discussion with Captain Kelly the Cylons were an artificial intelligence project that went very wrong."
"That's right."
Then Adama stepped in and took up the thread. "It all started fifty-five years ago. One of our industrialists created the Cylons to make life 'easier' for our people. The machines were supposed to perform dangerous or mundane tasks that required a high degree of intelligence to enable them to act independently. Unfortunately, the industrialist succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. The machines became sentient and believed we'd created them to be our slaves. They rebelled and initiated a war against all of our colonies. Hundreds of millions of people were killed during that war and, to survive, the colonies were forced to unite. We formed a unified colonial government along with a colonial military force. The war lasted twelve long years with no end in sight. Then suddenly, forty two years ago, the Cylons asked for a cease fire and an armistice. We agreed immediately and signed a treaty with them, partitioning sectors of space between us. When the fighting ended, every single Cylon left the colonies and retreated behind the armistice line. For forty years, we heard nothing from them until they compromised our defenses and launched a surprise genocidal attack against our colonies."
Jackson met Adama's haunted gaze with a look of understanding. "I see. Captain Kelly told us they brought down your defense networks through infiltration and sabotage?"
"Yes," Adama admitted. "Some of them have evolved to pass as human. We're not certain how many human models they have. We've managed to uncover five so far. Additionally, they have mechanoid soldiers called Centurions and biochenes that function as their aerospace fighters. Finally, they have half human/half machine creatures called Hybrids. These Hybrids function as the primary computers for their capital warships called basestars."
"Admiral," Lena asked gently, "what kind of armament do these basestars carry?"
"They have a mix of nuclear and conventional warheads on their ship-to-ship missiles and a swarm of those biochene aerospace fighters. Unlike our battlestars which have both anti-ship and point defense guns and heavy armor, the basestars rely on their missiles and fighters for offense and solely on their fighters for defense. They're quite vulnerable to our ship-to-ship ordnance."
"Thank you, Admiral," the lovely blonde commander said. "The information you've provided will be included in my report to Admiral Amato."
"Commander Stenger," Tigh drawled, "We've shown you all of our linen. Perhaps you'd care to share the type of armaments your vessels carry?"
Laura frowned at Bill's old friend. For gods' sake, the man didn't have a diplomatic bone in his body!
Stenger, however, didn't seem thrown by the old man's brashness whatsoever. "I'd be happy to share that information with you, Colonel. In our navy, the armament of our vessels is dependent on the particular mission profile a class of vessel is designed to fulfill. However, for illustrative purposes, I will tell you about the armament of our Metropolis-class heavy cruisers, one of our more flexible platforms. She's designed to act independently or as an escort for our battlecarrier vessels. This heavy cruiser is equipped with four naval rifles with an effective range of two light seconds. She has four heavy plasma cannons with an effective range of one light second. As secondary weapons, she has twenty four heavy laser cannons with an effective range of one light second and five long range anti-ship missile batteries that can launch a hundred missiles per volley. Her anti-fighter/anti-missile weapons include sixty pulse laser cannons and forty missile batteries that can launch a salvo of four hundred missiles per volley."
While Tigh was apparently struck dumb by Lena's recitation, Lee Adama stammered, "E-excuse me, Commander Stenger. Are you saying your people have managed to develop honest-to-the-gods directed energy weapons?"
"Why, of course, Commander Adama. We've had them for the past four hundred years or so."
"By the gods!" Tigh whispered harshly.
Laura smirked. Well, she had to agree with Tigh on how frakking unbelievable these people weapons were if even half of what they had told the Adamas, Tigh, and her was true. "Captain Jackson," she asked, "I was wondering if your people have developed artificial intelligences of your own?"
"Yes, we have, Madame President. However, none of ours has ever become sentient to the best of my knowledge."
Dr. Dalle then apparently chose that moment to speak his mind. "Admiral."
"Yes, Dr. Dalle?"
"I may be able to find a way to detect Cylon infiltrators. If you have any bodies or prisoners—"
"Actually, Doctor, we do have two bodies preserved in our morgue. We also have a prisoner; however, she's not aboard the ship at this time. When she returns, we'll make her available to you, though."
"That would be fine, sir. Before I get started on that project, I'd like to discuss your peoples' medical and nutritional needs with Dr. Cottle. If we can work fast, I can send along a request for relief supplies with Commander Stenger and have the Fleet reinforcements transport the material here."
"That sounds good, Doctor," the Admiral said.
A genuine smile dawned on Laura's face as she said, "Captain, Doctor, Commander Stenger, we truly appreciate your willingness to come and meet us."
"Madame President," Jackson said, "the pleasure is truly ours. Now, if you don't mind, we'll step outside and leave you to discuss our proposal."
"Thank you, Captain Jackson," she said. Then she stood and everyone else in the room followed her lead.
Moments later, after the trio of Fleet officers had departed, she seated herself and the three colonial officers followed suit. Then she regarded the three men. "Well?"
"Jackson is smooth," Admiral Adama said. "The way he practically maneuvered us into having to accept their proposal kind of irked me but I couldn't find a good reason to turn him down, particularly with the Sakqua running around out there."
"That's true, Bill," Tigh noted. "Plus, it was pretty slick of Jackson to have Dalle throw in the offer of relief supplies on top of their proposal."
"Yeah," the Admiral agreed. "That was the frosting on the cake."
"So what's bugging you about the guy, dad?" Lee asked.
"I really can't put my finger on it, Lee. He clearly has line officer experience, which is great, but there's more to him. He's too comfortable with diplomacy to suit an old man like me. Something tells me he may be a spook."
"A spook?"
"I'm sorry, Madame President. I meant to say he's probably one of their fleet intelligence officers."
She nodded. "I can see what you mean. What about Commander Stenger?"
Tigh chuckled. "I don't think she's a spook. That lady is so in love with weaponry, she's got to be an ordnance officer!"
"And the doctor?" she threw out to the room.
"Well," Apollo said, "he didn't say much but I sense he's a younger, nicer version of Dr. Cottle."
"So…" she drawled, "to sum up this entire meeting, the Alliance of Planets appears to be both powerful and willing to help us even though they have their problems with a genocidal enemy of their own. However, they don't believe they originated on Kobol, they claim to have evidence in support of said belief, which if revealed to our people in the wrong way, could lead to disruption and violence in our society. Finally, we don't have a clue if they follow the tenets of our religion."
"All of that may be true, Madame President," Lee noted. "However, beggars can't be choosers."
She frowned slightly at the young man. "Although that may be the case, Commander Apollo, I've always hated that old maxim."
The old private joke between the elder woman and the young battlestar commander about his call sign let him know she'd only been teasing when she'd frowned at him moments ago. Then she regarded Admiral Adama with the secret smile she reserved only for him. "Admiral, would you please inform our 'guests' we've decided to accept their proposal."
"Of course, Madame President," he said with a wry smile of his own.
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