Chapter 21

Battlestar Galactica – Pilots' Rec Room – Colonial Fleet

"Hey, Racetrack," an excited Hotdog blurted out, "They're showing your part of that interview Biers did awhile back!"

Margaret was seated at a table with Ian and the other two Fleet officers engaged in small talk while they awaited the arrival of the Fleet task force and a call from the CIC directing them to the hangar bay to depart in her Raptor. She'd been so focused on Ian and his companions, in truth, mostly Ian, that she hadn't been paying any attention to the monitor.

Now she spied an image of herself on the monitor as D'Anna Biers' melodic voice sounded through the monitor's speakers while the Fleet officers watched. "Are you afraid when you go into combat?"

Her image shook its head and said, "First thing they tell you is to assume you're already dead."

The Margaret who was seated at the table in the Rec Room felt a chill run down her spine. When she'd been interviewed by that reporter, she'd believed that every combat pilot had been dead men and women walking. Under constant threat from the Cylons, sooner or later the enemy's superior numbers would grind them down until no one was left to protect the fleet.

Now, after finding salvation in the form of the Thirteenth Tribe, and, in regards to herself, Ian Dalle, her words from several months earlier had come back to haunt her. Holy frak! her mind screamed. He'll think I'm a suicidal basketcase! He'll be so freaked, he'll want nothing to do with me!

Her heart sank as she heard D'Anna's words. "That sounds ghoulish."

Margaret closed her eyes, now resigned to her fate as she heard her own voice respond to the reporter's observation. "Maybe. But dead men don't get scared and freeze under fire. Me, I'm just worried that hell's gonna be a lonely place and I'm gonna fill it up with every toaster son of a bitch I find."

After hearing herself, Margaret couldn't bear to see the disgusted expression she thought she would see on Ian's face. "Excuse me," she blurted as she sprang from her seat to flee from the man she'd been pursuing almost from the time they'd met.

Before she'd reached the door, though, he called out to her. "Maggie! Stop!"

She halted in mid-stride, afraid to move a muscle until his hands softly gripped her shoulders. "Maggie," he said, his voice as soft as a prayer, as he gently turned her around to face him. "Not too long ago, my people fought a war against an enemy that had threatened the very existence of the Alliance. During that war, many of us had to suppress our emotions, had to become cold and hard to do what we needed to do to survive. My parents told me about some of the terrible things they'd witnessed during that war and some of the hard choices they had to make to live through that nightmare. So you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your people and you had no choice; you had to become cold and hard because you had an enemy that sought to destroy each and every one of you. But that's over now because my people will help you. We won't abandon you."

"You won't?" she asked, her voice small, almost childlike.

"We won't. I promise."

She simply nodded then and cradled her face against his chest while he wrapped her inside his warm arms.

When she felt the gossamer sensation of his lips against her forehead, she sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. As he comforted her, Dee's voice sounded over the ship's intercom. "Captain Edmonson, please report to the hangar bay with your party immediately. I repeat, Captain Edmonson, please report to the hangar bay with your party immediately. That is all."

Reluctantly, she and Ian released their hold on each other and prepared to leave the Rec Room with the rest of his party in response to the call to duty.

#

Battlestar Galactica – Port Hangar Bay – Colonial Fleet

"My goodness, Admiral," Laura Roslin noted with a saucy smile, "you cut quite the dashing figure in your flight suit!"

When he saw her seated beside Jackson in Racetrack's Raptor, he almost growled, "What the frak do you think you're doing?" However, he had managed to control himself and asked, "Madame President, would you mind stepping outside with me for a minute? I need to run something by you concerning an important matter in regards to the fleet."

Her smile changed to a smirk. "Of course, Admiral. Would you all please excuse us?" she asked of the Fleet officers.

"Of course, Madame President," Jackson said.

Adama, ever the gentleman, assisted her down from the wing onto the deck. Then he led her away from the craft to a discrete corner of the bay.

Once there, he turned his patented 'Adama glare' upon her. "Laura, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go over to their ship on this initial trip. It's too risky."

"I know that, Bill," she agreed. "But I believe it's a risk we have to take. We need to assess these people quickly and find out where we stand with them. Besides, I want to see some of those aliens they're supposed to have aboard that ship. Before we can expose our people to them, we need to see them with our own eyes to determine if it's possible for our people to adapt to the idea of sentient non-human life forms. Finally, you and I need to go as a gesture of trust toward these people. Let's face it, Bill, after all the good that Captain Jackson has already accomplished on our behalf, we owe it to them to make this gesture."

At first, he considered continuing to argue with her but he decided against it. He knew her mind was made up and he couldn't dissuade her from this course of action. However, he still wanted her to know he didn't like the idea whatsoever. "I don't want to risk losing you. The fleet couldn't take that, Laura."

She nodded to him, considering his words. Then like the sun peeking out from behind a cloud, she graced him with a bright smile right before she leaned toward him and kissed him gently on his cheek. "That was sweet of you to say that, Bill, even though I think you are exaggerating the effect of losing me would be to the fleet rather than the effect it would have on the fleet to lose you. But, as I've learned from a very wise sage, sometimes, you just have to roll the hard six."

He cocked his right eyebrow at that. "You don't say?" he teased.

She shrugged and drawled, "Well, that sage is a highly respected authority on the subject."

"Then," he said, "I guess that settles that."

"I suppose so," she agreed as she wound her arm through his and led him back toward the waiting Raptor. "Bill?"

"Yes, Laura?"

"What the frak does that saying even mean?"

#

Racetrack's eyebrows nearly shot up to the ceiling of her craft when Admiral Adama, garbed in a flight suit and a helmet, settled into the co-pilot's seat.

"Racetrack," he said in his raspy voice, "is it all right if I ride shotgun?"

She simply stared at him for a few seconds before she found her voice. "Yes, sir, it's all right with me, Admiral."

He shook his head and gently admonished her. "Racetrack, you know the drill. When we're engaged in flight ops, regulations state we should only use callsigns."

A slow grin dawned on her face. "Well, I should thank you for that reminder, Husker. All right then, are our passengers secured?"

Adama glanced over his shoulder then turned back to face her. "Passengers secured, skipper." After he had reported that, he glanced down at his panel and shot a look at Racetrack. "The hatch is sealed and secured."

"Copy that, Husker. You want to run down the checklist with me?"

"Aye, aye, skipper," Adama said.

Several minutes later, they'd completed their pre-flight checklist and Husker reported, "Racetrack, my board shows all green."

"Roger that, Husker," she snapped crisply. She turned slightly to glance out of her windscreen at the Chief. When she'd caught the man's eye, she gave him a 'thumbs up' signal and Tyrol had his people activate the tractor to tow her ship atop one of the elevator pads. Once the tractor had disengaged and driven away, she ordered Husker to engage the magnetic grapples.

"Grapples engaged. We have good lock."

"Roger that," she said before she turned to the Chief and snapped her hand up to the brim of her helmet in a crisp salute.

After Tyrol returned her salute with a snappy one of his own, the elevator engaged and began to lift the small craft up to the flight deck.

Two minutes later, their Raptor had cleared the port flight pod and accelerated toward the Hermes as the huge vessel loitered beyond the edge of the Colonial fleet.

Moments after their craft had reached its cruising speed, Adama activated the wireless and dialed in a particular frequency that was given to them by the Fleet task force. "Hermes, this is the Raptor formerly designated as 618; its new designation is Colonial One," he said with a grin as Racetrack snickered beside him."Come in, please."

"Colonial One, this is Hermes Actual. Are you in route to the Hermes?"

"Roger that, Actual."

"Unfortunately, Colonial One, we had not had the opportunity to prepare to receive your passenger properly. We apologize profusely to you for that."

"Actual, please don't apologize. Our passenger merely wishes to have an informal meeting with you."

"Colonial One, we are gratified to hear that. Be advised we have someone on hand who will have much to discuss with your passenger regarding the needs of your people while they are in this sector of space. In the meantime, we have directed two of our aerospace fighters to escort you to our ship."

Just then a pair of sleek, gun-metal gray craft bracketed their Raptor. The fighters looked to be both swift and lethal. They were about three meters longer than a Viper, possessed two large and four small flight surfaces compared to the Viper's three, and had numerous attachment points for missiles and other armaments. "Roger, Hermes Actual," Adama said, "our escort is in position now."

"Colonial One, your escort reports you are in the pipe and your profile is five by five. Follow the instructions of our landing bay officer and we'll see you on the hangar deck, shortly."

"Roger, wilco, Actual."

"Excellent, Colonial One. Hermes Actual, over and out."

#

Battle Carrier Hermes – Starborard Outrigger Hangar Bay – Alliance Fleet

After their craft had landed, the Raptor descended from vacuum on a lift through an airlock to finally have the lift merge into the floor of the Hermes hangar bay. While Racetrack was busy checking the outside atmosphere, Adama glanced out his side of the windscreen. A short distance away, he noticed a small ship that appeared to be a shuttlecraft of some kind. The craft had a large ramp that was open allowing what appeared to be crates to be loaded by machines that floated slightly above the hangar bay deck. Then he noticed a creature standing on the rear of one of the machines that appeared to be two thirds the size and twice the width of some of the humans he saw in close proximity to the being. It appeared to rest three of what appeared to be hands at the end of three arms on the control panel of the machine while it stood on three legs. It also appeared to have several oval bulbs near the top of its flat head that were placed equidistantly around its body. The creature's flesh was tinged neutral gray and Adama thought that might be its normal color until he saw another one that looked just like it beside several humans and a large cat-like creature. The humans were laughing about something while the cat creature appeared to be sneezing and the tripod creature quivered while the color of its flesh appeared to be neon orange.

The cat-creature had two, long dagger like teeth in its mouth that looked dangerous as frak; however, none of the humans seemed to be afraid of it. Apparently, it was sharing a laugh with both the humans and the tripod creature.

Adama smiled then. If these aliens could understand our humor then they can't be so bad, he mused to himself.

"Husker," Racetrack said, "atmosphere is A-OK."

"Roger that, skipper. I'll go and crack the hatch." He unstrapped himself from his seat and moved toward the back of the craft. Then he broke the seal and lifted the hatch door. Stepping out onto the wing, he clambered down onto the deck, closely followed by the Fleet officers, Racetrack, and finally Laura, who he assisted down onto deck beside him.

Shortly thereafter, he spied several people striding toward them while Laura unabashedly stared at one of the tripod creatures on another machine that it maneuvered toward another shuttlecraft. One was a female officer with two stars on both sides of her collar. She was a handsome woman who appeared to be around the same age as Laura yet she had a warrior's bearing that was different from Laura's softer, more feminine style. To the woman's right was a man whose skin color was as dark as Baltar's. The man had four pips on both sides of his collar the same as Captain Jackson, so Adama assumed they both shared the same rank. Although the man appeared to be physically fit, he definitely looked older than the frakking Colonial scientist. To the flag officer's left was a woman that was so fine, Adama simply couldn't believe his eyes! She was tall and blonde with a conservative looking business dress that still did nothing to conceal her exquisite legs. Why, she made Shelly Godfrey, the Cylon infiltrator who'd attempted to seduce him, look like an awkward girl in comparison! As she approached his party, he noticed that both the woman's gorgeous eyes and dazzling smile had targeted Captain Jackson like a heat-seeking missile. Forcing himself to tear his gaze away from the vision coming toward them, he saw that Kelly and Kat were following closely behind the approaching trio.

"President Roslin and Admiral Adama, I presume?" the woman in the uniform asked.

Laura took the lead since diplomacy was her strong suit. "Yes, and you must be Admiral de Ruyter."

"Indeed, I am, Madame President," the other woman said. "Welcome aboard the Hermes!"

"Thank you for your warm welcome, Admiral."

"You're quite welcome, Madame President. I would also like to thank you for taking good care of our delegation and for the safe return of Captain Jackson, Commander Dalle and Lt. Commander Stenger."

At that moment, Adama decided he needed to weigh in on the contributions of the three Fleet officers to his fleet. "Admiral de Ruyter, I would like to take this opportunity to thank your organization for assigning these three fine officers to this assignment. Each officer has assisted us in saving the lives of many of our people and have acted with auspicious gallantry in their duty."

In response, de Rutyer grinned brilliantly. "Admiral Adama, on behalf of the Fleet, we are pleased that you have confirmed what we have long known about Captain Jackson. We are also pleased that you feel so strongly about both of our commanders, as well. I would love to hear more about this later. However, before we escort you to the conference room we've prepared for our initial discussions, allow me to introduce you to my two colleagues. This," she indicated the man on her right, "is the commanding officer of this vessel, Senior Captain Hassan Ibn Abdullah. Captain Hassan is not only this ship's commander, he's also the executive officer of the task force. And this," she indicated with a sweep of her hand toward the beautiful woman, "is Alexandra Schlein, the Administrator of this sector of space. She operates from the sector capital of Xanadu and her people were responsible for the provision of the relief supplies we've brought to you."

The lovely woman nodded graciously to both Roslin and Adama. "Madame President, Admiral Adama, it is an honor to make your acquaintance. On behalf of the people of Xanadu, we welcome your people to the Alliance of Planets."

Roslin smiled at the other woman. "The honor is ours, Madame Administrator, and please accept our deepest gratitude for the aid you've provided to our people."

After the beautiful woman simply nodded to Roslin, Adama said, "Admiral, Captain, Madame Administrator, I would like to introduce the commander of the scout craft that ferried us here, Captain Margaret Edmonson. Captain Edmonson was the pilot who made first contact with your vessel in the nebula and has been my liaison officer to Captain Jackson's party."

As Admiral de Ruyter and Captain Hassan greeted Margaret, Administrator Schlein moved toward Jackson and said, "Senior Captain Jackson, it is so delightful to see you once again!"

He regarded her with a pleasant smile and said, "Madame Administrator, although it is a surprise to see you here, I assure you that it is the most wonderful surprise I've ever had the fortune to experience."

At that, the woman flashed a smile that was so radiant it nearly stole Adama's breath away. In fact, he almost didn't hear Hassan noisily clear his throat and say, "Although it was a pleasure to meet you all, I'm afraid I must return to my duties."

As de Ruyter thanked Hassan for his participation in their greeting, Adama wryly regarded Captain Kelly and Lieutenant Katraine. "I hope you both managed to stay out of trouble," he drawled.

"You have no need for any concern regarding your officers, Admiral Adama," de Ruyter said. "Both of them have been nothing less than exemplary."

"That's good to hear, Admiral."

"Well," de Ruyter announced, "I do believe the conference room is ready for us. Commander Stenger, you are familiar with this vessel, yes?"

"Yes, Admiral."

"Good. Would you be so kind and escort Commander Dalle, Captains Kelly and Edmonson, and Lieutenant Katraine to the ship's mess? We'll join you in an hour or so."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Stenger said.

After Jackson's partner had led the junior officers off the hangar deck, Admiral de Ruyter escorted the Colonial leaders, Xanadu's administrator, and Captain Jackson to the conference room.

#