None of it's mine. If any of it was, we'd have seen more of the Carter Special.
Sorry for the long delay. Though I have a clear idea of where the story is headed, I wasn't quite so sure with this particular part of it.
Project Slepnir: In case you weren't able to filter out Carter's technobabble, both have pros and cons. Hyperdrive is easier to use, but travel time over intergalactic distances can be problematic. Wormhole drives have a nearly instantaneous transit time, much like stargates do, but computation and power generation issues can be limiting as well. BSG FTL is just like the Atlantis wormhole drive, except that the Atlantis wormhole drive had the capability to plot a jump over intergalactic distances by virtue of its navigation system being able to plot the actual path the wormhole will take(neatly avoiding those pesky solar flares that stargate wormholes have such problems with). BSG gets around this navigational problem by having a much simpler navigation system that only does straight line jumps. The 5-30 lightyear range is more a limitation on the computer's ability to compute galactic drift. Cylon FTL has a range that is several magnitudes more than that because their computers are that much more advanced.
Dreylin: Nice of you to notice the style of storytelling. It's actually the same way BSG episodes are laid out, subdivided into a few acts each.
Thanks for all the positive reviews everyone. I confess I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop and get flames.
"General O'Neill will see you now."
Nodding her thanks, the slim civilian patted herself surreptitiously to straighten out any wrinkles in her skirtsuit before proceeding through the opened doors into a veritable beehive of activity. Black was the color of the day as uniformed techs and officers scurried to and fro, manning various computer stations and consoles. The obvious hub of all the activity was in the center of the room, dominated by a huge starmap depicting the milky way galaxy. That the starmap obviously contained up-to-date information on Earth's supposedly top secret interstellar activities did not even faze the woman. She was after all, one of the rare civilians from whom keeping the secret was moot.
Off to one side was her goal. An older man with salt and pepper hair stood framed in the open doorway of his office, dividing his attention between her and the large starmap. An easy smile was on his face as he greeted her, sticking his hand out. "Doctor, good to see you again, step right in."
He ushered her in, closing the door behind them and motioned her to a chair before stepping around the desk. "So, Doctor, how have you been?"
"Please, call me Sarah. It's been good, actually. Just finished a dig in Peru, and I've already submitted my findings for publication."
General O'Neill smiled, "That's good, that's good. Call me Jack by the way. Nice to see you back on your feet. But? I sense a 'but' in there."
"General, I can't thank the Air Force and the Stargate Command enough for all the help getting me back on my feet and smoothing out the details of my return to civilian life and the academe, but..." she drew a deep breath before continuing.
"Over the past few months I've been having this feeling that I should be doing more. Don't get me wrong, I still love archaeology. But I also can't help but feel that what I've been doing seems... mundane."
Her eyes drifted down to her hands. "I can't help but feel that there should be other questions, other mysteries I should be seeking answers to. The ones that can keep our world safe."
Gen. O'Neill nodded sympathetically before speaking. "I understand how you feel, Sarah. That's the reason I stayed in this job instead of retiring. But you have to be sure you want to do this. It was just a fluke we got you back last time. If it happens again, we may not be so lucky."
Sarah gave him a a haunted look. "I remember everything Osiris did. Everything I did. I had thought I'd forgotten most of them, except for little fragments here and there. But lately the memories have been getting clearer."
"You don't owe us anything, Sarah. You weren't complicit with anything Osiris did. You can just walk away."
"I have to do this. It's as if I can't live with myself if I don't."
Gen. O'Neill sighed, "Alright. If you're sure, I have just the thing for someone of your skills." Reaching into one of his drawers, he pulled out a folder and handed it across his desk to her.
Intrigued, the archaeologist opened the folder and perused the contents, softly making comments to herself. Gen. O'Neill watched as she carefully read over reports compiled by Sam and her staff. The haunted look was gone, replaced by the detached look of a professional academic who was carefully absorbing the information before her. When it seemed she was done, he asked, "what do you think?"
"Fascinating. An interstellar civilization out on the rim. System Lords certainly never heard of them. At least, Osiris never did. And they're slowly making their way here? They believe Earth is a mere colony!" That last statement came with raised eyebrows.
"Ridiculous, I know. I notice you still don't completely rule out Goa'uld involvement."
"Osiris was out of circulation for thousands of years. Even if he wasn't, Goa'ulds have been known to keep secrets from each other," she shrugged. "You don't believe they're a threat, do you?"
"A threat? They're little more than a refugee fleet," the general said mildly. "If they present any kind of threat it would be to the current timetable we have for disclosure. No, that's not what we're concerned about."
"Everybody we have on site, Carter, her staff, Davis, Danny Boy, even Gant. They all agree it's all far too coincidental. The prevailing theory is that somebody has been leading the Colonials and maybe even the Cylons by the nose, pointing them towards Earth. We want to know who it is and why. If they're a threat to us, we want to know."
"That's what you want me to dig out."
"I'd like you to head up an archaeological survey of Kobol, according to them the homeworld of humanity. Check for clues on who these Lords of Kobol are and where they've gone. It's practically a given that they're an advanced race of some kind, so you know what to look for, technology, artifacts, records. Use your judgment."
"I'm in." Sarah smiled enthusiastically.
"Good. Our newest three-ought-four, tentatively named the Proteus under Captain Hunter should be almost ready. Her Asgard sensors should be able to pinpoint areas of interest even from orbit."
"Captain? Not Colonel? I sense a story there." She grinned playfully, the formerly serious tone of the conversation now giving way to light banter.
"Another time," the general groaned.
"You couldn't get me a ship crewed by the English?"
"Unfortunately, the brits are behind schedule on the HMS Hood. Plus they still haven't finalized their roster. Scuttlebutt is some blue-bloods want in."
"Blue bloods?"
"HRH's." O'Neill confirmed. "The younger one at least has infantry combat experience, but the older one's out of luck... No postings for SAR pilots on three-ought-fours."
"That's too bad."
"Either way, the War Office is still thinking it over. Not exactly a safe galaxy out there, as you know. And you did not hear any of this from me."
"No I didn't," she chuckled.
Junior Lieutenant Diane "Hardball" Seelix smiled at the familiar kick in the butt as the launch tube accelerated the Viper to combat speed before spitting it out the side of the Galactica. Frak she missed this. All those weeks cooped up all sweaty and grimy in the cramped confines of the Demetrius had left her on a ragged edge. In hindsight, she should not have been surprised things had gone down the way they had. Starbuck had been right. No point arguing about that now. She might have sounded seriously crazy, and it sounds crazy to think about it even now, but some higher power had chosen the class A nutjob to lead the Colonial remnant to the next critical step in their journey. Perhaps it had even been the Lords of Kobol themselves.
No matter who had led the Colonials to them, the Tau'ri were powerful. Powerful enough to keep the Cylons in line. An alliance with them could really help the Colonials. Now if only they could be convinced to finish off the Cylon threat once and for all. She did not think it was likely, but a girl can hope.
With a roar of RCS thrusters she banked and fell into formation behind and to the side of the lead for this CAP. "Showboat, Hardball. Joining formation."
"Copy, Hardball," Captain Marcia "Showboat" Case responded. "You sure you're up for this, Hardball? You didn't look all that great when you got back."
Seelix grinned. The other officer probably wasn't privy to all the details of what the Demetrius had been up to. But the appearances of the crew, not to mention the missing Raptor and personnel, were enough fuel for speculation. "Nah. I already had a few hours of racktime, and was just about ready to go nuts with boredom. To be honest I really just need to get back into things more than I need the sleep. Thanks for asking though."
"Anytime, Hardball."
As their patrol reached the rear and starboard end of the loose formation the civilian ships had arranged themselves in, they saw it. It looked as if the very fabric of space was being torn in a flash of green. From the tear emerged a small grey ship. As the tear closed, another ship, a twin to the first one, appeared and took position alongside.
"Frak me!" Showboat exclaimed. "What's that?"
"Looks like some funky kind of FTL. Those are Tau'ri ships though." Actually, Seelix had only seen them on the footage Athena had brought. She had stayed aboard the Demetrius when Starbuck and the others had gone to make contact. This was her first time seeing them in the flesh, so to speak.
"That new faction we were told to watch out for?"
"That'll be the one." Seelix confirmed.
"Better call this in to the Old Man, then. This'll be way above our paygrades."
"Hyperdrive powering down. Exit coordinates confirmed. Odyssey has decloaked and is joining formation."
Sam nodded her acknowledgment then asked. "What's the status on the Colonial fleet?"
"Multiple wormholes detected, it looks like the civilian ships are jumping away. They're not going very far, though." Hailey answered from the sensor console. "Galactica is launching fighters and warming primary batteries up."
Not surprising. "Status on Captain Thrace and her people?"
"Based on the timetable they gave us, we should only have been ahead of them by five minutes. They had to recharge their drives before the last jump to here."
"They could have done it in a lot less jumps according to our calculations." Daniel observed.
"Maybe they don't believe we know more about their FTL jumps than they do." Cam speculated.
"The calculations are fairly straightforward, sir." Hailey remarked. "All they have to do is make sure there isn't anything heavier than them at the other end. Otherwise, the distortion field won't be able to push the object away. Apart from that, their FTL navigation is pretty much point and shoot."
"In any case, shields up." Sam brought the conversation back on topic. "I doubt they'll fire first, but I'd feel better opening communications with Capt. Thrace around."
"You can't be seriously considering this."
The non-question was posed by the President of the Twelve Colonies to her own military commander. Daniel for himself was not surprised at the hostility in her tone. That the Cylon ships had been allowed to approach without being fired upon was a minor victory in of itself. Capt. Thrace had arrived on the scene without any mishap and after she making her report to her superiors, representatives both Cylon and Colonial had then gathered aboard the Hammond.
"Madam President." The Colonial Admiral addressed his civilian superior formally, "I wish it was as simple as that. The military value of the target they are proposing makes it very tempting indeed. Without Resurrection, they'd think twice before committing to any confrontation with us."
"We're frakked if we do, and frakked even worse if we don't." His second in command, a bald one-eyed officer with a seemingly perpetual bad mood summarized their situation succinctly. By the morose expression on Capt. Thrace's face she actually seemed to agree with the older man, and did not like it at all that she did. This despite the fact that she had essentially brought the proposal to the table.
"What about the billions dead on the Colonies?" The President spat. "Are you just going to dishonor their memories by working with their murderers? Need I remind you that they attacked us without warning?"
Daniel sighed. In a perfect universe, the Colonies and its remnant had every right to refuse the proposal put forth by the Cylon rebels. Realistically though, the long-term implications were undeniably attractive. He had worked with the military long enough to be able to see that. The problem was framing it in terms the... emotionally overwrought... Colonials would find palatable.
"Admiral, I understand you fought in the first Cylon War yourself?." The colonial officer turned a calculating gaze on the Tau'ri archaeologist but did not himself reply. "He was a pilot, stationed aboard this very ship." His XO answered for him instead.
"But you mustered out not long after that?" Daniel asked again, and the older man nodded in response.
"Those who did stay on, they would no doubt have risen up the ranks. Eventually occupying ranking positions in your military high command, wouldn't you say?"Daniel pressed further as the other Tau'ri simply looked on curiously. Not quite sure where this line of questioning was headed, yet implicitly trusting of him as well.
"You could say that." The colonial admiral conceded the point.
"But you would have been on a first name basis with them by the time you rose through the ranks yourself?"
"Some of them." The admiral admitted as Daniel nodded. The Cylon delegates were by now watching him with curious expressions as well.
"So you would have been privy to any plans to cross the Armistice line in force and impose a more permanent solution on the Cylon nation?"
The admiral managed to maintain a stern expression on his face. His XO actually looked embarrassed. The President however, was glaring daggers. Admiral Adama tried to calm her down with a quiet look before answering. "I won't deny plans were made."
It was not long however before the President found her voice. "Are you saying we brought this upon ourselves?"
"I'm only saying that if things had gone differently it might well have been your military that would launch a preemptive strike on the Cylons. They simply beat you to the punch." Daniel answered evenly.
"I'm not saying the genocide of the Colonies was justified. Certainly millions did not deserve to die. But, given your mutual hatred of each other perhaps it was inevitable that one would eventually come after the other. So long as you hold on to these hatreds, you will always feel threatened by each other. And this fear will continually sap your strength. Keeping you from rebuilding, from healing." Daniel continued as the president simply glared back at him. There was not much she could say in rebuttal, though she still remained defiant.
Daniel turned to the Cylon delegation. "Am I wrong in assuming that those who masterminded the Fall of the Colonies are the same ones who favor continued aggression?"
The Cylons shared looks before Natalie Faust replied. "All models contributed to the overall plan after consensus was reached, but the initial proposal to attack the Colonies was made by the Ones. They lead the other faction."
"So there you have it. That Cylon party most responsible for instigating the attack will be the ones hurt the most if you agree to this joint operation. They are the masterminds while the others were just accessories."
The President now had a calculating look on her face. "I will agree to it in principle. I don't like it but I suppose we have to be realistic. There will likely be a lot of noise from the Quorum, though. Will you be contributing your own forces to the operation?"
Colonel Davis answered. "If both parties are in, yes we will."
"How do we get close enough to hit it?" Admiral Adama mused. "What defenses are we expecting? And of course all this discussion will be useless if the target isn't where you say it is."
"Very well." Natalie replied. "We will provide the coordinates so you can send a recon mission."
"In the interest of cooperation and mutual trust, I suggest the Raptor be crewed by representatives from all three of our factions." Colonel Carter suggested with a smile.
"So are we agreed then?" Admiral Adama asked the assembled delegations.
"One last thing." Colonel Carter spoke with a strange expression on her face. "If the Tau'ri are to participate, we want to make one small change to the overall plan."
"And that is...", the colonial admiral asked suspiciously.
"We don't destroy the Hub. We capture it intact." She smiled.
To say that Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson had misgivings about this whole reconnaissance mission was probably the understatement of the year. The crew was mixed, with two each from the three factions. To her side was Major Jennifer Hailey from the Tau'ri, a solid officer from what she had seen so far.
It was her companion that was suspect. Captain Satterfield looked too much like Boomer for Racetrack's comfort. The fact that the Cylon contingent also had an Eight, along with a Six, only served to heighten the suspicion. All three were huddled around Hamish "Skulls" McCall at the sensor station.
"Jump completed. Coordinates confirmed."
"Looks like we're here." Major Hailey remarked. "Look at the size of that thing."
"Even bigger than a frakking baseship." Racetrack agreed, suppressing a shiver.
"That's the Hub alright." The Six said, coming up between them for a look.
"I see a few baseships for escort. Skulls, what've we got?"
"Dradis has six baseships. No signs of damage."
"We didn't seize any of the escort ships for the civil war. Those baseships will be fresh." The Eight muttered.
"Still sure you want to take it intact?" Racetrack asked the Tau'ri officer. The old man had not had to spell it out for her. She was to find out discretely why the Tau'ri wanted to capture rather than simply destroy it.
"Not my call to make. Satterfield what do our toys see?" The Tau'ri had brought their own sensor pods, jury-rigged to hardpoints on the Raptor's exterior hull. Satterfield was manning them from a tablet computer they had brought for the purpose.
"We have something on subspace, I've pinpointed the transceiver array they're using. Looks like your theory pans out, Major." The Tau'ri officer who looked eerily like a Cylon skinjob replied.
"What is she saying?" Racetrack asked her seatmate, totally lost.
"From what the Cylons described, the Hub uses some form of faster than light communication system to update the rest of the fleet with its location. Our sensor pods are listening devices designed to detect this comm system and identify it." Major Hailey explained. "We had a number of ideas for the type of FTL communication system being used. As it turns out, it's similar to what we use."
Racetrack left the fact that the Tau'ri had a faster than light communication system for another conversation. They were that much advanced, anyway. Instead she focused on the capabilities of Cylon technology. "Waitaminute. You're saying the Cylons have a way of communicating that travels faster than light?"
"It's highly inefficient. We can only send short bursts of information, like coordinates. It'll be a while before we can do real time communications with it." The Six admitted.
"Is there any way to disable the jump drive from outside?" Hailey asked the Cylon.
"There is. We can give you the schematics." The Cylon replied.
"Then, we board it."
"We can send centurions to help." Six offered.
"A discussion for another time. For now, I'd say we have what we came for."
"Skulls, you heard the major, begin jump prep. We're heading back." Racetrack called out to her ECO and navigator.
"So the Cylon information pans out." Colonel Paul Davis remarked as he read over Major Hailey and Captain Satterfield's reports. "Sam, are you ready?"
"The Asgard Core has already been transferred aboard and integrated into the Hammond's systems. Once there, the additional processing power should be all it will take to get what we need from the Hub."
"What about our cargo?"
"We still have about twenty percent of the relief supplies to offload. After that we just take in the Colonial contingent and we're off."
"Good." Colonel Davis nodded, before turning to address the screen where Doctor Lam was on videoconference from aboard the Galactica. "How are the relief efforts going?"
"We've already setup in the starboard flight pod, and it's pretty much what we expected. Widespread malnutrition and multiple mineral and vitamin deficiencies, not to mention PTSD. The problem is aggravated by the fact that the number of qualified doctors in the entire fleet can be counted on one hand. It's taking my entire staff, plus the few on loan from the Hammond and Odyssey's regular medical personnel just to catch up." Davis sighed. The good doctor had requested the additional people as soon as she got the lowdown from the Colonials themselves. And it seemed it was still not enough.
"What about security? Any issues so far?"
"Nothing yet. We're still playing it by ear, although everybody agrees it's only a matter of time."
The Colonials had not been happy to admit it, but there was a large number of firearms and angry people to use them currently unaccounted for. Such was not always the case. In the early days of the exodus, immediately after the Fall, firearms were tightly controlled. Outside the Galactica's armories, there was hardly anything larger than a handgun. Even those tended to be tightly controlled by the officers and crew of the ships that had them.
New Caprica changed everything. As part of the rescue effort, weapons were distributed to the various resistance cells. Once they had made good their escape, few ever bothered to return them. Of particular concern was the group known as the Sons of Ares. A radical, violently anti-monotheistic group that was known for hoarding its own weapons and supplies. Often taking either at gunpoint.
Such was the reason why the primary entry point for the relief supplies was heavily guarded by SGC marines. Unfortunately, the Colonial government was adamant that non-lethal force was to be used as much as possible. That meant intars and zats. Lethal force was still authorized but only as a last resort.
Colonel Davis then turned to Vala mal Doran. "Any comments?"
"You do realize they'll probably try to double-cross each other?"
"Right." Cam sighed. There was so much mutual distrust it was almost predictable in a morbidly funny way. "Any idea how that's gonna play out?"
"It's a matter of bargaining chips." Vala grinned.
"If this final five are still alive and know who or what they are, they are probably in hiding. If the Colonials get names, they can simply hold them and interrogate them. Once they get the way to Earth," Vala raised both hands mimicking quotation marks. "They can just leave the Cylons in the dust."
"What about the Cylons?" Daniel asked, his curiosity piqued.
"They know what the Colonials are likely to do. They're not stupid. They also have more targets to shoot at."
"Take the civilian ships hostage?" Colonel Gant on videoconference from aboard the Odyssey was clearly aghast.
Vala simply shrugged.
"We can protect the civilian ships if it comes down to a shoot out. But unless we get the Colonials to concede, we'll just be seen as favoring them." Sam concluded with obvious disgust.
"Oi." Cam sighed, for a moment channeling the current head of Homeworld Command as beeps sounded off from Sam's tablet.
"Well, well." Sam muttered. "The Colonial President has requested an audience with the Hybrid. And the Cylon leadership is requesting an audience with the admiral aboard the Galactica. Both are requesting escorts as per protocol."
"Let the games begin." If possible, Vala's grin got even wider.
Second Lieutenant Anderson Joseph "Andy" Spencer had grown up on stories about SG-1. For years everybody thought his father was simply going mad. Despite the level of detail in his stories.
Eventually they found out that the elder Spencer had the genetic marker to operate technology left behind by an ancient race and had used such technology to forge a telepathic link with the original Commanding Officer of SG-1. This was how he learned all about their adventures. In return the aforementioned Air Force officer found relaxation in the inherently less stressful life of a small town barber.
Those events in his youth had inspired him to attend Air Force ROTC in college. When he tested positive for the same gene his father had, he was all but guaranteed a slot with the SGC where such a naturally occurring trait was considered extremely valuable. He would never learn that the SGC had originally intended to assign him to the Pegasus Galaxy, where his Ancient gene was most useful. But that was okay since shortly before his graduation, Atlantis returned to Earth.
That led his current circumstances. Since Atlantis did not have the juice to go anywhere at the moment, the powers that be had decreed that a portion of its fleet of gateships be dispersed to the various 304's to serve as shuttlecraft. By a stroke of luck he was assigned to the Hammond, commanded by one of the original members of SG-1. Also by a stroke of luck, an earlier mission had gotten him into an extremely close encounter with a human form Cylon who called herself Lida. Thus earning him the callsign "Riker".
It could have been worse. He thought inwardly as he powered the gateship down and opened the rear hatch. His passenger for today looked a lot like Lida, which made him mildly uncomfortable. Fortunately, she was not alone. Colonel Mitchell had brought a full squad to escort her. Since this area of the flight deck was cordoned off for the Tau'ri relief goods, the place was crawling with SGC personnel. They would not need to leave a guard. A discreet nod from one of the marines told him they would take care of it.
Clipping his P90-TR to his vest, he set off after Colonel Mitchell and his squad, taking the rear position. They were met by the ornery Executive Officer of the Galactica, Colonel Saul Tigh. He also had a squad of his own marines with him, and they proceeded deeper into the bowels of the ship.
They had not gotten far when the Cylon stopped. As he craned his neck for a look, he realized that she had stopped for a child. A little girl. He wasn't quite sure what was special with the girl, but the Lida-lookalike seemed quite taken with her.
It was not long before Athena Agathon arrived, presumably the child's mother. Surprisingly, she lost no time drawing her sidearm on the other Cylon. In response the escorts also raised their weapons.
Colonel Tigh ordered a stand down, but everybody seemed to be mesmerized by the irate Cylon. Colonel Mitchell was trying to calm Athena down, standing between her and the other Cylon, but she was not having it. She ordered another man, an enlisted, presumably, to take the child. The whole time she kept her eyes and her gun on her fellow Cylon, even after the child was gone.
"You are never gonna take my child." Athena said determinedly before shoving Colonel Mitchell aside and double-tapping the Cylon leader.
Immediately two of the Colonial marines moved forward to disarm her while the SGC escort quickly closed ranks around the fallen Cylon. Colonel Mitchell knelt over her and covered her body with his, quickly tapping his earpiece. "Hammond, this is SG-One Niner. Code Blue! Code Blue! Request emergency beam out directly to sickbay!"