Chapter 11
Battlestar Galactica – Brig – Colonial Fleet- 0200
After Lena had returned from her flight to the Huntress, the trio of Fleet officers were preparing to retire for the night. Suddenly, black clad troopers escorted President Roslin into the brig. "Please open the door, corporal," the woman said in a kindly tone of voice while Jackson discretely signaled to his companions to reactivate their implants. The guard complied, allowing the auburn-haired woman to enter their cell. Tonight, she was dressed in a conservative jacket which matched the pair of slacks she wore. In Jackson's opinion, that was unfortunate because her uncovered legs were her best feature.
Once she was inside, the three officers snapped to attention and a bright smile dawned on her face. "I appreciate your courtesy, Captain, Commanders." Then she turned to her escort and asked them to wait outside.
After the men reluctantly complied with her 'request,' Jackson asked, "Madame President, we appreciate your visiting us. How may we be of service to you?"
"I'm here to request your presence tomorrow morning to present you to our Quorum of Twelve. The quorum is the legislative body of the Colonies of Kobol. It approves or vetoes bills presented to it by the President."
"I see," Jackson said. "The Alliance of Planets also has legislative bodies called the Senate and the House of Representatives. Our President is elected by the members of the Senate and that person or being presides over the government and serves as the head of state."
She nodded. "Your government sounds very similar in principal to ours, Captain. However, the fact that you have non-human members in your alliance is somewhat troubling at the moment."
"Troubling in what manner, Madame President?"
"Well, until our Raptor crew encountered your vessel in the nebula, my society had no idea any sentient extra-Colonial lifeforms existed at all. And, after the discussions we had about the Sakqua and the non-human members of your society and the consultations with the crew members who saw your holographic projections of these lifeforms, I have a better understanding of your revelation. Unfortunately, the members of the Quorum have not had that opportunity and I'm afraid if the news about alien lifeforms or about Earth, rather than Kobol, being the cradle of humanity is released either to the Quorum or our people prematurely, we may have a riot on our hands that could spiral out of control."
Jackson pursed his lips in thought for a moment before he responded. "It's not our place to substitute our judgment for yours in regards to the best way to break the news to your people. However, Madame President, you should know that some of the crew members on the ships that will protect your fleet are non-human. The Alliance of Planets has integrated the crews of its ships for centuries. If some of those crew members come in contact with some of your people—well, the cat would be out of the bag then."
She blinked several times at him then said, "Perhaps you can only use humans in your interactions with us for a short period of time."
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Madame President, but I will not agree to that. First of all, it is not your place or mine to substitute our judgment in place of a ship's commander regarding crew member assignments. Second, our society does not discriminate based on species or planet of origin in any position or assignment and we will not allow anyone else who believes differently to influence our commanders in regards to a citizen's position or assignment. Now, what I can agree to is having our crew members come into limited contact with your people, say properly briefed military members on your battlestars for the purpose of protecting our crew members from potential violence on your people's part. We can move the material from our ships to your battlestars, allow the material to be inspected by you prior to dispersal to the other ships of your fleet. That way, we keep the exposure to your people down to a manageable level, giving us time to bring your people up to speed concerning both the Alliance and the Sakqua."
Her eyes seemed to gaze off into the distance for a moment before their focus sharpened on him once more. "I think that's a good plan, Captain. Tomorrow, I'll open the meeting and introduce you to the Quorum. Then I'd like you to address the members and tell them a little about both the Alliance of Planets and Earth. I'd also like it if you could advise them about the task force's imminent arrival. Hopefully, they'll be pleased with the relief supplies the task force will deliver to us as well as the protection it will provide our fleet. If we keep the presentation short and sweet, it'll give us more time to prepare my people to join yours in this brave new world."
"That sounds fine, Madame President."
"Good. Well, I've taken up enough of your time and I'm certain you need to retire for the evening. Tomorrow will be a busy day."
"Good evening, Madame President. Please sleep well and we'll see you tomorrow."
"Good evening, Captain. Good evening, Commanders." Then she turned for the door and the corporal opened it to allow the President to leave.
After Roslin was gone, Lena said, "She likes to cover all her bases, that one."
"Yes, she's sharp, all right," Malcolm agreed. "So that means we've got to be at the top of our game when we deal with her, got it?"
"Yes sir," both of his companions snapped.
#
Battlestar Galactica – Brig – Colonial Fleet – 0730
"So, Lena," Dr. Ian Dalle drawled while he unwrapped the unappetizing field ration bar he'd decided to have for breakfast that morning, "tell me again so I can convince myself I didn't mishear you last night and I'm not suffering from lack of sleep. What time is the cavalry supposed to show up?"
Lena Stenger completed chewing the bite she'd taken from her own bar and said, "Task Force 70 is due to ship out of Xanadu at 1000 hours. It should be on station here late in the evening."
Jackson smiled at Lena's report. He was gratified Admiral Amato had their backs by deciding to send the Hermes and her escorts to protect the Colonial refugees. Rear Admiral Jantiene de Ruyter, TF 70's C.O., was the perfect flag officer for this mission. A direct descendent of the famous Dutch Admiral from the Age of Sail, Michiel de Ruyter, she shared much in common with him. As was the case with Michiel, Jantiene was loved by her sailors and marines, a naval tactical genius and a consummate diplomat. Although she preferred not to fight if she had the choice, the woman was hell on wheels once the battle was joined.
"Well," Ian said with a smirk, "I agree that hearing about TF 70 is good news. However, I'm not certain it'll get here soon enough to do us any good if your meeting with the Colonials' Quorum goes south!"
Malcolm grimaced at Ian's little joke because it wasn't funny at all. They all knew the situation was fraught with danger and had the potential to go quite badly.
Now Jackson said, "Ian, you're right. That's why Lena and I need to be on our toes. Even though there might be political shenanigans going on behind the scene or the President could be using us to further her own agenda, we can't concern ourselves with any of that now. We need all the refugees to know TF 70 is here to protect them and provide humanitarian aid for them."
"That's a good point to make, Mal," Lena said.
Ian nodded grudgingly. "Yeah, Lena's right, but if it's all the same to you, I want you both to watch your backs while you're there."
"We will, Doc," Jackson said, pleasantly surprised Dalle seemed to actually be coming around in regards to the two spooks. "So long as you watch your ass when you're with that cranky physician of theirs."
Dalle smirked. While his colleagues were facing the music before the Quorum, he was going to examine a pair of Cylon infiltrators' corpses alongside Dr. Cottle. Hopefully, his medical scanner would uncover something they could use to screen for more infiltrators before the refugee fleet could be moved to the relative safety of the Xanadu system. "Don't worry, Malcolm. Ever since the Khalian and Syndicate Wars, we Dalles have excelled at watching our own asses."
"Really?" Jackson drawled. "Lena and I thought you were so drawn to Lt. Edmonson's fine posterior, we didn't think you were that concerned about your own."
While both Jackson and Stenger grinned wickedly at him, Doctor Ian Dalle's face became so flushed, he'd have given a cardinal a run for its money.
#
Raptor 841 Approaching the Cloud 9 – Colonial Fleet
"Lt. Edmonson?"
Racetrack switched on her craft's autopilot so she could provide her undivided attention to the Fleet captain. As their liaison officer, Admiral Adama had assigned Skulls and her to fly the Fleet officers to the luxury liner. Apparently, the President and the Quorum wanted to show the members of the Thirteenth Tribe their very best.
Although the good-looking Dr. Dalle didn't accompany the other Fleet officers on this trip, she'd managed to set her disappointment aside. Besides, any chance she got to fly made for a very happy Racetrack.
"Yes, sir?"
"What can you tell us about the members of your Quorum of Twelve?"
The pilot sighed. "Captain, I've never really been all that interested in politics. Flying this old hunk of junk and playing cards is all I ever wanted to do."
"Well, I can't blame you for that. The best pilots tend to have the same mindset as yours."
She blushed at his praise. "Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome, Lieutenant."
"Sir?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Captain, please call me Racetrack while we're in flight and, if you prefer, Margaret when we're out of the Raptor and I'm off duty."
"That's fine, Racetrack. Please call me Malcolm and my partner, Lena, when we're off duty as well."
"You've got it, sir," she agreed. She was silent for a few moments before she said, "Captain, there's one member who's the proverbial snake in the grass. He's Tom Zarek, the Sagittaron representative. The man was a convicted terrorist who'd blown up a government building almost twenty years ago, killing hundreds of people. After his release from prison, he ran for office under Sagittaron law and won. Although Zarek claims he's the champion of the common man, most people in the military think that's a smoke screen. Sir, I know for a fact that both Admiral Adama and Colonel Tigh despise the man and everything he stands for."
"That's good to know, Racetrack."
"Hey, Skipper," Skulls said, cutting into the circuit, "how about Baltar?"
"Gods!" she breathed. "How could I ever forget him? Captain Jackson," she said, "Gaius Baltar is the current Vice President but he's running against President Roslin for the Presidency. The election is supposed to be held three weeks from today."
"Thanks for that, guys," Jackson said. "That is an interesting bit of news to know. So, tell me more about this Baltar fellow."
"Well, he's an award-winning scientist, one of our society's brightest minds even before the Cylon attack. He's also very handsome and charismatic. The problem with that, though, is he knows it and demands everyone else recognizes it. Also, he's a bit of an oddball; sometimes he lurks through Galactica's corridors engaged in conversations with people only he can see."
Jackson grunted at that. "He does sound quite odd. Anyone else we should know about?"
"Well, there's Sarah Porter. She's from Gemenon, Skulls' home colony. She's very religious and knows the Sacred Scrolls like the back of her hand. She's also very conservative on social issues. There's Marshall Bagot of Virgon. I've heard he's very influential among the Quorum members despite the fact he's a pompous windbag. Finally, the Canceron representative, Robin Wenutu, is a quiet, competent politician who seems to have the best interests of her constituents at heart. Other than that, I really don't know much of anything about the others."
Just then, Stenger exclaimed, "Mal, would you look at that!"
Racetrack followed the other woman's extended finger toward the domed spacecraft dead ahead and smiled. "That, Commander Stenger, is the Cloud 9. She's a luxury liner built to cruise around the four stars of our home system, Cyrannus. The domed section of the vessel contains a complete biosphere modeled after a plush resort that existed on Caprica before the Colonies were destroyed by the Cylons."
Margaret fell silent then. Caprica had been her home colony. Although some of her fellow citizens had survived the holocaust and, hopefully, Starbuck would bring some of them back to the fleet, by misjumping and stumbling across the Huntress, she'd most likely had missed the chance to see her home world for the last time.
A now serious Racetrack brutally shoved her sense of melancholy down and announced to her passengers, "Please excuse me while I prepare for our final approach to the Cloud 9," she advised before she disengaged the autopilot and accelerated toward the massive starship.
#
After their Raptor had been secured in the luxury liner's hangar bay, Jackson and Stenger were escorted into the dome by the black-clad marines who made him recall Galacticnet descriptions of ancient Earth special weapons and tactics troopers. Although the Alliance had luxury liners far more advanced than the Cloud 9, he couldn't help but be impressed that people whose technology seemed so primitive in comparison to the Alliance were able to construct such an impressively engineered spaceship such as this. Why, if the problem with the hologram of the mountains in the simulated horizon weren't so noticeable, the sensation of the simulated sunlight on his face, the refreshing coolness of the morning breeze, the twittering of the birds and the chirping crickets would have made him swear he was presently on the surface of a garden world.
Soon, they were led inside a grand hotel and taken to a huge ball room floor. In the center of the massive room stood a Plexiglas podium with rectangular wooden tables on either side. Hanging on the wall in front of the podium were twelve banners with symbols that reminded him vaguely of the signs of the Zodiac. At the top of the wall were placards with the Greek script these people used stenciled on them. Seated behind several of the placards were several men and women.
While Lena and he scanned the room, Jackson noticed President Roslin as she strode toward them. He smiled when he saw the lean and attractive woman dressed in a navy blue power suit with a well-tailored matching skirt that showcased her shapely calves. As she came closer, he noticed she wore a smart-looking pair of glasses that made her look a little like a school teacher or a librarian in one of those old 2D movies preserved from the old days before the Imperium.
He thought the glasses made her look even hotter today than when he'd first met her.
Roslin was in the company of Commander Adama and an attractive young woman with a slightly lighter shade of brown skin in comparison to Jackson's darker hue and blessed with exquisite, aquamarine eyes that shined brightly like polished gemstones.
"Captain Jackson, Commander Stenger, thank you both for coming. Of course, you remember Commander Adama."
"Yes, Madame President. Hello Commander Adama," Lena said. Then the Fleet officers shook the young man's hand.
"May I introduce you to Lieutenant Anastasia Dualla? Ms. Dualla has been assigned to be the Executive Officer of the Pegasus."
"Lieutenant, Lena and I are pleased to meet you," Jackson said with a polite smile.
"I'm pleased to meet you both," Dualla said.
"Well, I suppose I should get this meeting started then," Roslin said. While she took her place behind the podium, Adama and Dualla guided the Fleet officers to seats at one of the rectangular tables.
After everyone in the room had taken their seats, Roslin announced, "Due to special circumstances and the need for security, this meeting shall not be conducted before the public. The press is not in attendance and the members must understand they may not discuss any of this to the public without clearing it with my office. You should also know if anyone inappropriately discloses the sensitive information we discuss today, that person will be subject to incarceration and prosecution to the fullest extent of the law. Now, with that understanding on the record, I call this special meeting of the Quorum to order." Roslin took a deep breath then continued her oration. "Members of this most august body, two days ago, one of the Search and Rescue craft we sent on a mission to retrieve survivors from Caprica misjumped and found itself in orbit above a marginally habitable planet inside a nebula several light years from our current position. When the ship attempted to survey the planet, it stumbled upon a much larger ship in orbit with our craft. After our people were able to communicate with the crew of the other vessel, we found it was crewed by humans—humans from the planet…Earth!"
A rumble of excitement reverberated throughout the vast room. Meanwhile, she waited a few moments to allow the delegates to regain their composure. Once the delegates had settled down, she said, "Excited by the prospect we'd finally found our long lost brothers and sisters, yet cautious of the possibility of a Cylon ruse, several brave men and women of the Battlestar Galactica, specifically Captain Aaron Kelly and Lieutenants Louanne Katraine, Margaret Edmonson, and Hamish McCall, met with the people on that ship and told them about the dire circumstances we've faced ever since we've fled from the Cylons. Our officers convinced the people of that ship to send a delegation to our fleet while Captain Kelly and Lieutenant Katraine have been dispatched to have discussions with their sector commander."
She paused to take a sip of water from a glass previously placed on the podium for her. Afterwards, she said, "The members of the delegation sent from the Earth ship have all been tested by Dr. Cottle, the Chief Medical Officer of this fleet. Dr. Cottle is certain these people are not Cylons. Subsequently, Admiral Adama and I met with the delegation and we are satisfied that its members are truly from the planet Earth. Furthermore, as a demonstration of their good faith and their recognition of the depredations we've suffered while fleeing the Cylons, they're sending ships filled with relief supplies and humanitarian aid for our people. Their ships will also help protect the fleet in conjunction with the Battlestars Galactica and Pegasus while we await the return of the Caprican search and rescue mission."
Roslin now paused for effect like a maestro conducting an orchestra. "Members of the Quorum, please join me in welcoming Senior Captain Malcolm Jackson of the planet Earth!"
The majority of the people in the ball room clapped politely as Jackson left his seat and approached the woman on the podium. After politely shaking her hand and helping her step down from the platform, he faced the members of the Quorum, cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone. "Madame President, Mr. Vice President and members of the Quorum, thank you for allowing me to make this presentation to you. I have Lieutenant Commander Lena Stenger with me this morning. We're both officers in the Fleet. The Fleet is the military space force of the Alliance of Planets and Earth is the capital planet of our alliance. It is our pleasure to inform you that on behalf of the Alliance of Planets, the planet Earth, and our superior officer, Vice Admiral Dennis Amato, the Commanding Officer of this sector of space for the Fleet, we welcome you and your people to our section of the galaxy."
After Jackson had completed his introductions, Roslin, who'd taken his place in the seat beside Lena, leaned forward and said into her microphone, "Captain Jackson, we are grateful to you both for coming here to meet with us. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank the people of Earth for dispatching a task force of ships to assist us."
Jackson had to fight hard to keep the sly smile off his face. He had to hand it to the woman—her political chops were as smooth as her exquisite pair of legs. By expressing her appreciation in front of the Quorum, she made it appear she was on good terms with Jackson's delegation, and by extension, the Alliance.
"You're quite welcome, Madame President. Indeed, ladies and gentlemen of the Quorum, our task force should arrive by late this evening. The ships in the task force will bring food, water, medical supplies and other forms of humanitarian aid to help you while we wait for the return of your rescue mission."
"As a point of clarification," Roslin added, "once the supplies are delivered, they will be distributed to both of our battlestars, and from there, will be dispersed throughout the fleet."
"Excuse me, Captain Jackson, Madame President," a ruggedly handsome man who appeared to be in his early fifties said. "I'm Tom Zarek, the delegate from Sagittaron."
Jackson narrowed his eyes at the man. So, this guy's the former terrorist? he mused. Although he didn't know the man, he had begun to trust Margaret Edmonson from the first time he'd laid eyes on her. If she said this guy was a snake, Jackson wouldn't doubt her assessment. Hiding his acquired disdain for the man, he smiled diplomatically. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Zarek."
"The pleasure is all mine, Captain," the guy said with a smarmy smile. "However, my question is for President Roslin. Madame President, why not allow the Earth vessels to directly distribute the supplies throughout the fleet? That way, we can get them to the common man, woman, and child much faster than allowing the supplies to be processed through the Caprican and Tauron military personnel who've oppressed the people of the poorer colonies for years."
Jackson raised an eyebrow when the man said that. Though it might be good for rabble-rousing rhetoric, it certainly wasn't the thing to say about people who stood between you and extinction.
"That's a good question, Tom," Roslin noted. "Rest assured that both Admiral Adama and Captain Jackson discussed this issue with me."
Jackson forced himself not to smirk at her statement. Although technically true, it was way off the mark from the reality of how they'd arrived at the decision to funnel the supplies through the battlestars.
"Based on their advice," she said, "it would be better for our military to establish effective control points for the supplies to ensure the black market doesn't appropriate the material for the benefit of the criminal element and to the detriment of the common people of the fleet. You, of all people, Tom, should want to ensure the common people aren't losing out to those who would take advantage of them."
She regarded the man with a saucy smirk that Jackson thought was sexy as hell. Then the captain groaned inwardly and mused, what is with my attraction to political hellcats? I must be a masochist or something!
Now a chastened Zarek glared at the woman for a moment before he gave her a sly smile. "Thank you for your point of clarification, Madame President."
Moments later, a man who would have looked to Jackson like someone descended from the Indian subcontinent on Earth, raised his hand and spoke. "Captain, my name is Dr. Gaius Baltar. I'm the current Vice President of the Twelve Colonies."
So, Jackson thought, this is the pretty boy scientist? I've got to say, for a pilot, Margaret's a hell of a judge of character. Maybe I should recruit her to be on my staff? He seriously considered the possibility for several moments before he shook his head. Nah, if I turn her into a spook, Dalle would never forgive me. However, what he actually said, though, was, "It's nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Vice President."
"Yours as well, Captain. I just wanted to understand something. Your vessels aren't just coming to deliver relief supplies. They will also be here to help protect us?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tell me, Captain. Did our august leadership inform you about the Cylons?"
Jackson gave him even a more faux smile than he had a few seconds ago. What a pompous ass! the spook noted inwardly. "Sir, we know only as much about the Cylons as what your leadership has revealed to us about them. I'm certain during the time we'll spend getting to know each other better, we'll learn more information that will be helpful to the security of both of our societies in regards to the Cylons."
"That sounds splendid, Captain. However, since we have no prior exposure to your tribe's military capabilities since most of us were not included in the previous discussions you had with President Roslin and Admiral Adama, are you certain your military vessels are capable of standing up to the Cylons?"
"Mr. Vice President," Jackson said, a predator's smile on his face, "based on our previous discussions with your president and Admiral Adama, Commander Stenger and I are confident we can protect your ships from the Cylons, if it comes to that. If not, we plan to lead your fleet to the capital world of this sector of space and place it under the protection of the upgraded defenses we've constructed in that system and avoid any confrontations with your enemy. From there, representatives of our government will work with you to provide options regarding where you may wish to settle."
Jackson paused momentarily to see if anyone had further questions. Seeing none, he said, "Madame President, Mr. Vice President, and Members of the Quorum, thank you for your kind attention this morning."
With that, he stepped down from the podium yet remained standing to assist Roslin onto the platform.
She stepped to the microphone and announced, "If there are no further questions, I would entertain a motion to adjourn this meeting. However, before we adjourn, again I admonish you all, particularly the members of your staffs, that everything we've discussed here today is highly confidential and cannot be disclosed to the press or the public. That said, I will work with the Vice President, Admiral Adama, and several members of the Quorum to create a series of talking points for our people to inform them of the arrival of the task force and the supplies it is transporting on behalf of our people. These talking points will be distributed over the wireless to all the ships of the fleet prior to the task force's arrival. Now with that said, do I have a motion to adjourn?"
"I move we adjourn the meeting, Madame President," a mousy-looking woman announced.
After Zarek seconded the woman's motion, Roslin said, "Let the record reflect that delegate Wenutu from Canceron moved to adjourn the meeting. All in favor?"
What followed was a chorus of 'ayes.'
"All opposed?"
Roslin's query was met with silence.
"Then let the record reflect the meeting was adjourned at 0926 hours."
After everyone began to depart, Jackson assisted President Roslin down from the platform. She then graced him with a warm smile. "Thank you, Captain. You're quite the gentleman."
"Well, you're quite the lady, Madame President."
She said nothing in regards to his last comment. Instead, she smiled flirtatiously at him. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"I believe so. It seems the isolation afforded by the Galactica's brig agrees with me."
Her smile clouded over momentarily as if a memory had chased it away. Moments later, though, she'd regained her good humor. "You and the members of your party shouldn't be confined to the brig. I'm going to ask the Admiral to find you better quarters."
"Please don't trouble yourself, Madame President. We'll move our quarters to the Hermes once she arrives—"
"Excuse me, Captain. You've named one of your ships after a Lord of Kobol?
"Actually, Madame President, Hermes was the ancient Greek deity known as the fleet-footed Messenger of the Gods on Earth. Apparently, there's a connection between your people and mine neither of us can deny; we just need to discover what that connection may actually be."
"Indeed, Captain," she agreed. "Indeed."
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