Thanks for the reviews, sorry it took so long to update. Not sure what you mean by evil word blocks, Darksnider. Should I shorten my paragraphs?
Disclaimer: Neither Stargate SG:1 nor Battlestar Galactica is mine. If it were, BSG would have laid off the metaphysical crap.
Fate never quite behaves the way one thinks it will. What was asked for sometimes may never be received. But sometimes what is gained is far more than what is asked for. Some know what to do with it. Some don't even realize what was gained. Some are just plain in over their heads.
The mood in the Heavy Raider was understandably tense as it awaited landing instructions. Who were these Tauri, and how could they be so powerful? Were they somehow related to the Thirteenth Tribe that they sought? No question had a clear cut answer that they could divine. Each question only yielded more questions. They obviously understood and spoke textbook Ancient Kobolian, yet they claimed not to know of any race who called themselves the Thirteenth Tribe. Did not even give any indication that they knew of Kobol. Leoben had tried listening to the Hybrid for some clue as to who they were, but that had not been particularly helpful. The Hybrid had indicated unambiguously that they are NOT the Thirteenth we seek. Then went on to ramble about how they were the Firstborn, and from the world that the Thirteenth sought and established. End of line. Leoben was totally lost.
Finally the Heavy Raider entered the brightly lit flight pod. It was a simple affair. Large baydoors served as both entrance and exit. The entire flight pod had only a single level, and they could see the Tauri fighters parked in berths towards the rear. There was not a single Tauri in sight, and there was no atmosphere in the flight pod. Just empty vacuum. Idly, Sonja wondered if they performed launch operations in vacuum, before setting the Heavy Raider down. They were to await instructions to disembark, presumably once the chamber was repressurized.
Finally they received the all clear, and a hatch off to one side of the flight pod opened. Just as the hatch on the Heavy Raider opened, several Tauri stepped out. Humans, by the looks of them, dressed in rather simple coveralls. Two women took the lead, an armed squad, marines or their equivalent, filing in behind them. The taller blonde woman had her long hair in a simple braid. Despite her kind smile, there was an unmistakable air of command about her. Was she the commander of this ship?
The other woman in the Tauri party was what had the Cylon delegation stopping short. Incredibly she looked like an Eight, but no Cylon had ever been posted this far coreward. No Cylon had even ventured this far coreward, let alone gain a position of obvious importance to an unknown faction. It was she who stepped forward and spoke.
"Welcome aboard the General George Hammond, or the Hammond as we call her. I am Captain Vanessa Satterfield, this is my superior Colonel Samantha Carter. If you will follow us, we have prepared a conference room where we can discuss the issues at hand."
On board the Demetrious, trouble was brewing. Kara Thrace had just made another course correction. Everybody thought that she was becoming increasingly erratic. Kara had always been unconventional, always been unpredictable. But this was taking it to an entirely new level. Helo and Longshot were hard put to calm everyone down, but could not really offer any alternative except follow orders.
"It is amazing how much you look like an Eight". Sonja marveled. They had settled into the conference room, and the discussion had quickly turned to the resemblance between the Tauri officer and the Eights.
"It is a surprise, but I'm pretty sure I never went away from my home planet as a child. This is my first time this far rimward." Satterfield calmly answered after giving Sam a quick translation. Sam had just nodded, then proposed her own theory.
"An accident of genetics, most likely. There are only so many combinations, a limited number of permutations of physical features. Without taking into account other genetic traits, it was bound to happen eventually, given the number of human and human related races in the galaxy."
Upon hearing this translated, Sonja, the lead Cylon delegate, perked up. "You mean these other human races further into the galactic core? Are they as advanced as you? And what do you mean by human related?."
"Early in our planet's history an interstellar race of parasites took several human populations and scattered them all throughout the galaxy." Satterfield began the familiar tale. The Cylons listened intently. Nodding in some places, shaking their heads in others. As the story dragged on though, Sam began to realize they were increasingly in disagreement with the details Satterfield was relating. It seemed to clash with a certain set of core beliefs they held.
Finally, Leoben could no longer contain himself. "So you are saying that all the humans in the galaxy are descendants of people taken from your world? Are you from Kobol? Are you the thirteenth tribe? And why do you now call yourselves the Tauri? Are you related to Taurus?" He did not even bother touching on the Stargate. Despite it having figured prominently in what the Tauri said, it was simply too fantastic. A gateway that took you to other worlds. Ridiculous.
"All humans in the galaxy are descendants of people taken from our world. That is why they call us the Tauri. It means the people of the first world. The word is not related to Taurus. We have never heard of this Kobol or its thirteen tribes." Satterfield spoke with the practiced patience of one who had dealt before with people whose entire sense of history was being challenged.
"Kobol is the home of humanity." One of the Eights began. "Thousands of years ago, humans lived with the Gods." The other Cylons quieted down as she continued her story. Sam listened as Satterfield kept up a running translation of the narrative. Despite listening to a second hand account that was probably mistranslated in some places, she began to see gaps in the story. Gaps that told her it was not entirely the paradise it was being made out to be.
"So the twelve tribes settled in the Cyrannus system. Where is Kobol anyway, and where do the Cylons come in?" Satterfield relayed the question her CO posed.
"We can give you the coordinates to Kobol. It is in our nav computers and there's really no harm for us in it, though it is said that anybody setting foot on Kobol will have to pay a price in blood. Go there at your own risk." Sonja began. "The Cylon story began over forty years ago, when a man named Daniel Graystone created the first Cybernetic Lifeform Node. Or Cylon." She told of how the first Cylons were over time integrated into all aspects of Colonial life. First serving as menial labor, they eventually were pressed into military service in the various internecine wars of the Twelve Colonies. "It was not long before they gained sentience and decided to wage war on their human masters. Eventually both sides agreed to an armistice."
"So where are the Colonials now?" Satterfield asked the question without Sam's prompting.
The Cylons looked at each other, before the other Eight spoke. "Their civilization has fallen. They are slowly making their way coreward. We hope to eventually make peace with them. But the other faction in the Cylon Civil War led us into a trap. They will not be interested in peace with the Colonials."
"If you don't mind our asking, how did your Civil War start?" Satterfield's curiosity got the better of her, though Sam also wanted to know.
The Cylons looked among themselves, then the others all turned to Sonja. As the expedition lead she drew the short straw. Drawing a deep breath, she related the more recent and painful history. She spoke of the 12 Cylon models, of how the final five had yet to be revealed, and of how D'anna had finally found a means to discover their identities, only to be boxed at the behest of the One called Cavill. She told how Cavill had lured them with the promise of unboxing D'anna, only to ambush them.
Sam and Satterfield looked at each other, then Sam whispered a question for Satterfield to translate. "They lured you out into deep space to kill you?"
"Out of range of the resurrection ships. That way our deaths would be final."
That piqued Satterfield's curiosity. "Resurrection?"
Sonja explained how resurrection worked, that D'anna was in a Resurrection Hub. Sam and Satterfield looked at each other, then Sam asked, "what will you do now?"
"Send a ship back to the site of the battle. Search for survivors, then see if we can find the Colonials and propose peace."
"You have small ships capable of FTL?" Satterfield figured they would not use the larger Baseship for a recon mission like that.
"All of our ships are, though we will probably be sending a captured Colonial Raptor. It's an older design, but very versatile, with topnotch electronic countermeasures. May we have your permission to stay in this system for a few hours while we conduct repairs and await the result of such a mission?"
Satterfield relayed the question to Sam and the older woman pursed her lips in thought, before giving her answer. "We see no harm in it, but there are two conditions. First you are not to venture deeper into the system. Stay within this immediate region. Second, tell us more about how your FTL works."
Cally Tyrol was in a daze. How could it have gone wrong? Her husband was a Cylon. The ship's XO was a Cylon. The President's Chief of Staff was a Cylon. It was unreal. Who else could be a Cylon?. Where there more? She was in a viper launch tube, not knowing what to do or where to go. Why would Galen need to keep up the pretense if he was obviously carrying on with someone of his own kind? Then she happened to look out the viewport. This was one of the few launch tubes with one of those, and it suddenly was all clear. The Cylons had fertility issues. She knew this from Starbuck's experiences on Caprica. Galen must think Nicky was his. That was why he continued the charade. She couldn't take it anymore, but she couldn't leave Nicky to be cared for by Cylons either. Everything was numb as she opened the panel and slipped the key in. A few buttons and there, the manual control was a comforting green light.
"Cally!" Tory had found her.
Cally rounded on Tory and screamed at her, "Stay the frak away from me! I know what you are. I know what all of you are."
Tory stayed calm. "How could you? We don't even know what we are."
Cally was clearly now at her limit. "I heard you. You're Cylons! Bunch of frakking skinjobs."
"I wish it were that simple.." Tory sighed.
Cally wouldn't fall for the act. Cylons were machines. "You stay away from me." She then turned the key and closed the airlock behind Tory. "Guess you better hope there's a spare body waiting for you."
"You wanna kill me?" Tory spread her arms out to her sides. "Go ahead. Don't do this to yourself, or to your child, to Nicky."
"Get the frak away from me, you're not getting your hands on my son! Not you, not Galen, he frakking used me." Cally had by now lost all calm and was hysterical.
"He didn't know. None of us did. we didn't find out until we entered that nebula." Tory didn't give up.
Cally didn't want to listen, didn't want to care. "Oh, shut the frak up, traitor! Frak!"
"All we know is that we're Cylons. But in every other way, we're still the same people." Tory insisted.
"You're frakkin' machines!" Cally screamed out the major difference.
Tory looked at her hands. "I don't know. But I do know that we're not evil. We're not inhuman. And we're just as scared and confused as you are."
"I can't live like this! It's a frakkin' nightmare."
"You don't want to do this, Cally. He's your son." Tears were beginning to show in Tory's eyes.
The tears convinced Cally. Unthinking machines couldn't cry. "What have I done? I'm so sorry. Oh, Gods." Nicky was by now crying out loud. Cally tried to comfort her as Tory moved closer to touch her shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay, Nicky. It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay." Cally cooed.
"Let's just get out of here. It's okay. We'll work this out together. It's okay."
"Okay," Cally agreed. Standing up and handing Nicky over as she cries some more. With Nicky safely in hand, Tory quickly backhanded Cally and knocked her out.
This was giving Tory a rush. Cally's death was regrettable, but there was no way around it. Cally was breaking down. She knew this from her conversations with Galen. Tory had managed to calm her down now, but it would not have been the last time. Simply put Cally was a liability. They could not afford to have their secret come out at this critical juncture. They would be lucky if they were thrown into the brig with the Six if that happened. All of them were public figures. The widespread feeling of betrayal would probably lead to a lynching. As Cally pointed out, it was by no means a certainty that a resurrection ship would be in range. And Tory would rather stay alive, thank you very much.
Thus Tory had not been particularly concerned when she found Cally about to toss herself out the airlock. The problem was she intended to take Nicky with her. Cally's suicide would have been convenient. The death of a half-Cylon boy however, would have been unacceptable. And so she had intervened. Now that Nicky was safe, Cally could get on with the business of getting spaced.
In the airlock, Cally was beginning to stir. Just in time, too. Just as she saw Tory through the window, Tory slapped her palm down on the release.
"That went well," Capt. Satterfield commented as the Cylon Baseships started moving away.
Col. Carter could only agree. It had gone smoothly. The Cylons were understandably apprehensive at the overwhelming power the Hammond had displayed. This more than anything else ensured their good behavior. There was also the matter of Capt. Satterfield apparently having several thousand clones running around. Once it was ascertained that the similarity was a mere fluke, they had quickly moved on to more important things.
Things like the presence of a spacefaring race out on the galactic rim. Things like that same spacefaring race having been laid low and now slowly making their way coreward. Although it had been immediately obvious that the Cylons had had something to do with the downfall of their creators, they were reluctant to discuss it at large. The only assurance they could give was that hostilities against these "Colonials" was no longer on their agenda, but was still a priority for the other side of the Cylon civil war.
"That was interesting", Maj. Hailey remarked as the Baseships winked out of local space.
"What did our sensors show?" Col. Carter didn't bother hiding her fascination. The Cylon means of Faster than light travel showed promise. She couldn't wait to get a team and examine the wreckage of the dead Baseships. There were also the smaller craft currently sitting in the starboard flight pod. Carefully placed away from where the Cylons could see them.
"In real space their means of propulsion gives off the same type of energy emissions that a Ha'tak does. Far less efficient though." Sam frowned at this reference to technology they had seen before. It did not add up and would be put on the table for further investigation. "What about FTL?" She asked instead. The Cylons weren't even sure how their FTL worked. They had apparently inherited the design from the Colonials, adding enhancements to take advantage of their better computational abilities, but for all of their skill the FTL drive itself was still something of a black box.
"That is an entirely different matter. I wasn't sure before but now I am. It's a point to point wormhole, sir."
"I didn't think you could survive wormhole travel without shields, sir," Satterfield was the first to comment.
"No you can't, the stresses would be directly proportional to the size of the object that's being moved. They have to have shields. That is what we saw, isn't it?" Carter now looked back to Hailey for confirmation from the sensors.
"Yes, sir. They threw up shields for a split second before jumping. In fact that's probably where the bright flash comes from. Shields meeting the wormhole's event horizon. I don't think they even realize what they were doing. It was fairly low power. Based on the size of the Baseships I don't think they were intended to last more than a split second. Only long enough to get them through the wormhole, sir."
"What about power? You've shown me the numbers. They don't generate nearly enough power to generate shields, and a wormhole at the same time."
"No they don't, sir. It looks like they took the power from a secondary capacitor bank of some sort. I was watching the sensors the whole time. Their power levels never changed. Not from the moment they got here all throughout all the fighting. Then it suddenly spiked to generate the wormhole and shields. My guess is they have a backup battery or capacitor of some sort that they use to store the power for FTL operations. Their normal powerplant can't supply enough power to do it, so they run the power into the battery until it has enough. No way of knowing how many times they can jump before needing to recharge, sir."
"One other thing, sir." Sam nodded for Hailey to continue.
"Since we detected the exit point of the wormhole as a spatial distortion when they first got here, I tried checking on the long range sensors if we could see both ends of the wormhole. We have the origination points for two wormholes right here, and the corresponding spatial distortions were as expected. They didn't jump very far. Around ten lightyears out, we registered a couple of spatial distortions at the exact same time that the Baseships jumped out of here."
"I see. Keep an eye on the long range sensors. Tell me if they jump again. Comms, get me Homeworld Command on subspace."