Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not intended for any profit. None of it's mine. If any of it were, we'd see more colonial craft!
Robo Reader 21: More on that in this chapter!
Agent G: I don't really feel up to rehashing scenes that have already been covered on TV. I'd much rather show how it affected others.
You have a very low opinion of an Asgard sensor array if you don't think they can scan a sixth of a lightyear away. If any, I'm actually nerfing it. Carter has used a 304's sensor array to search for a missing City Ship from the edge of the Pegasus galaxy. And we've already established earlier in this fic that it can detect both origination and termination points of an FTL jump.
Unfortunately, the amount of interaction they have is pretty much going to be it. SGC is keeping everyone at arm's length to minimize potential violence. Violence that has already occurred more than once. Everyone is on a short fuse due to PTSD, and the SGC would rather not rock the boat more than absolutely necessary. So beyond official liaisons and high level discussions, none of these parties are going to be fast friends any time soon.
Shadow Cub: We'll just have to see how Disclosure plays out. I'm planning on another scene where the Asgard show up, but don't get your hopes up. They don't really have much to contribute at this point.
Now, on with story!
Bright light filled the forward viewport as they arrived at their destination. Major Jennifer Hailey gasped, sucking in lungfuls of air to ward away the nausea. It was already her third jump, but the feeling of being squeezed through a narrow tube while being inflated like a balloon was as uncomfortable as ever. Behind her, Lieutenant Andy "Riker" Spencer was similarly indisposed, leaning back against his seat trying to keep his air passages opened as wide as possible. The other two people in the craft, the ECO and the Six that had attached herself to Riker both seemed to be fine.
"Jump complete." Lieutenant Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson simply gave her pitying look. The condition was apparently not uncommon among the Colonials. Though understandably absent among the pilot corps.
Inwardly, she marveled at how little fanfare was involved in a jump. Racetrack had simply confirmed the coordinates and then punched it. Not a lot of ritual once it was done, either. It was a testament to how long they had been doing this and how much they trusted the technology.
"Is this it?" She asked.
"Yep." The colonial pilot nodded. "DRADIS is detecting the planet half an SU dead ahead."
She frowned. "A lot of radiation at this range, visual and other sensors are OK."
"How do we do this?" Major Hailey asked, not sure what the colonial protocol was.
"We approach slowly, give the DRADIS array some time to cut through the background radiation. By the time we hit the upper atmosphere we should have enough to determine atmospheric composition."
"Lets us see threats coming from far off." Hailey muttered. "Riker, what do you see?"
"Long range telescopes are getting a good resolution." The younger officer replied as he planted himself near the ECO station. "Looks like a whole lot of cities."
"Is it inhabited?" Hailey asked. The SGC had come across seemingly advanced planets that were bereft of life before.
"I don't think so, Major." Lieutenant Hamish "Skulls" McCall piped up. "Background radiation is too high. Not immediately lethal, but definitely too high for long term habitation."
"Not too high for Cylons." The Six added. "But it'll kill anybody else inside of a month without meds."
"You mean those rad-meds?" Riker clarified, using the more common name for anti-radiation medicines. The Colonials and the Cylon just nodded.
"I guess we sit back and enjoy the ride, Major." Racetrack smiled. "This looks like it's gonna be a long trip."
"I hope it's a quiet one," Hailey grinned as she leaned back.
That was unfortunately, not to be.
"What was that?" They were not more than a few minutes in when Riker called out, surprising the dark-skinned ECO.
"What?" Skulls just looked at him with a blank expression.
"Back a few frames." Riker motioned at the feed coming from the long range cameras.
Skulls complied as Lida moved closer, now visibly curious. It was a few more moments before Riker found what he was looking for.
"That's different." Lida commented as Skulls grunted in agreement.
"Major, we have a problem." The young Tau'ri officer advised his superior.
"What is it? What did you find?" Major Hailey craned her neck from the copilot's seat.
"Goa'uld ship. By the looks of it a big one. Maybe Apophis class."
The looks of alarm on the Tau'ri officers were met by blank looks from the rest of the Raptor's passengers.
"Get us out of here." Major Hailey turned to Racetrack. "Now!"
"Right. Drives are spooled..." Racetrack trailed off as her eyes fell on the nav console. The nav console that had lines of static on its screen.
"No, no. Gods, not now." Racetrack prayed as she pushed several buttons on the console to no avail. Finally she just balled her hand into a fist and thumped the bottom on the console. "Frak!"
"That's not a good sign is it?" Major Hailey muttered as she watched Racetrack push yet another button and hold it down until the screen cleared completely. Once Racetrack released it, lines started scrolling on the screen once more.
"I'll need a few minutes to recover the last coordinates from the archive and recalculate the jump." Racetrack gritted as she stabbed at the console. That was when the DRADIS console pinged.
"DRADIS contacts! Fighters approaching at high speed!" Skulls called out.
"Come on, come on..." Racetrack muttered as the nav computer finished rebooting.
"Attention unidentified craft, you have entered a restricted area. You will power down your systems and await landing instructions."
"Like hell!" Racetrack yelled as she gripped the Raptor's controls. Turning the craft around, she opened up the throttle and began making for the edge of the system, jerking the stick back and forth periodically at random.
"Give me that!" Lida stepped up impatiently. Leaning over the pilot and copilot's seats, she reached for the nav console and pressed a few buttons. The screen cleared and now sported several lines, which she then started filling in with numbers.
Hailey watched, wide eyed as the Cylon manually programmed the nav computer, seemingly pulling jump coordinates from straight out of the top of her head.
"You're just gonna let her do this?" She asked Racetrack.
Racetrack just shrugged. "She's a Cylon."
"You've done this before?"
"Kinda..." Racetrack winced. Her last time following coordinates given out by a Cylon hadn't really gone over well.
Lida leaned back when she was done. "Now punch it!"
Just as time ran out.
"Missiles inbound!" Skulls called out as the DRADIS gave out a shrill tone to indicate a weapons lock.
"No more time to argue." Racetrack slapped her palm on the red button.
First Sergeant Jeff Sanderson of Special Forces Operational Detachment Delta watched as Master Sergeant Matt Eversmann crouched down and peered into the fiberscope's eyepiece. He had first met the younger man in Somalia during the infamous Black Hawk Down incident. Back then he had already been an operator, while the other was a Staff Sergeant leading his first command, a platoon sized chalk of Rangers.
They had not had much contact since then, until he had been quietly happy to learn that the younger NCO had successfully hurdled both Special Forces and Delta selection. Despite that, they had never been on an op together until now. Now, he was set to retire in a couple of months, and while he was no stranger to national secrets, it seemed the United States still had one that was quite frankly, a pleasant surprise to him.
Here he was standing in the belly of an actual freaking huge space ship! Somehow the Air Force had misplaced a couple dozen doctors, and the powers that be had decided it was a job for the Delta Force. They had originally planned on making it an all Air Force op with their own Special Tactics Teams. Except that Pope Field at the time had just happened to be playing host to a number of guests from several other CounterTerror units.
Well he was happy to oblige. Particularly when the job came with some nifty toys. The weapon cradled in his arms was a dead ringer for a classic HK MP5A3, despite being something completely alien. They called it an intar and it fired red bolts of energy. One will shock Tango into submission, three will put him out like a light.
Eversmann held up a hand and signaled. Two tangoes on sentry duty. Sanderson simply nodded. That meant the other four contacts shown on the PDA strapped to the inside of his arm was behind the hatch the two were guarding. Along with six of the missing doctors and nurses.
The PDA was another piece of equipment Homeworld Command had loaned out for this op. He did not want to know how, but somehow, every colonial was emitting a signal that let the PDA display where they were and in what numbers. Same for the missing people. He had been told they were actually being picked up by signal boosters that they had "covertly planted" all over the ship, again by means he did not want to know about, and the information then relayed to the PDA's.
The display itself was a bit hazy, and contacts could be off by almost a meter or so. Apparently it was why the 304's had not been able to just beam the missing people out, he had been told it was something in these walls preventing them from locking on. Alternatively it could also be radiation bleed off from the Galactica's fusion arrays, or the high amounts of that exotic fuel the Colonials used exclusively being stored in these and adjoining decks. Whatever the actual reason, they had to get a signal booster in the same room in order to get beam transporter locks. Eversmann had one on him right now.
"This is Scalpel One, we are in position. Six packages confirmed. I repeat, six packages confirmed." He sub-vocalized, the microphone in his neckband picking it up and processing it so it could be broadcast intelligibly.
He listened as the other Scalpel units checked in as well mentally counting off the packages. Tim Wilkinson was in one. He had also met the man in Somalia. Already an Air Force Pararescueman at the time, he had been reassigned shortly after to the Stargate Command, before rotating back to the Special Tactics Teams. The British Special Boat Service was the third contributor to this operation with a buddy pair of their own. Apparently they had a starship of their own and wanted to build the experience. All in all ten men were arranged into five buddy pairs. Him and Eversmann were the only ones from Delta, the rest were all Air Force.
All packages were confirmed. That meant the mission was a go.
"This is Colonel Davis. All Hammer units execute!"
Hammer was one half of the two stage operation plan. It involved SG and Marine units storming the Sons of Ares enclaves and pinning them down so that they were unable to reinforce those locations where the hostages were being held.
It did not take more than a few minutes for the Hammer units to report their success.
"All right, Scalpel units, your turn. Execute!"
As one, Sanderson and Eversmann peeked out the corner and opened fire, holding their weapons southpaw style. Quickly rushing towards the hatch, Sanderson shifted the intar to his right hand while Eversmann unpinned a flash grenade. Sanderson pulled the hatch open just wide enough for the younger operator to toss the flashbang in. After the muffled bang rang out, he pulled it open wide, dropping down to one knee for balance and crouching to present a smaller target.
With his weapon now in his right hand, he had to expose himself, but the additional accuracy and precision was an acceptable trade off. He need not have worried. Eversmann had already tagged three of the tangoes in the room by the time he had his gun up, leaving him with the last one. Somehow the last one had managed to crouch behind a hostage using him as a human shield.
Three red bolts spat out to hit the tango's exposed shoulder, paralyzing the arm and the hand holding the gun, before sending him into unconsciousness. He sent another three into the tango's head as he dropped down, just for good measure.
"Clear!" Both operators called out. It had been less than a minute after receiving the go signal.
"Doctor DeVal! Doctor DeVal! We're US Special Forces. Are you hurt or injured?" He grabbed the french doctor with both hands, willing him to calm down while Eversmann stood guard. After what seemed like an eternity the wild look in his eyes subsided somewhat and Sanderson's questions sank in. He nodded in recognition before shaking his head.
"Are any of your people injured?" Again the doctor shook his head.
"Odyssey, this is Scalpel One, all packages secured and ready for transport."
"How big is it?" The President frowned. "It looks like these smaller ones are using it as a base of sorts."
They had all retired to the Situation Room to debrief the pilots. Nevertheless, the idea of an unknown military force using the planet as a hideout, as well as the amount of radiation, had the president on edge.
"At the range we scanned it, it could be as long as three and a half clicks on the long side." Racetrack pointed out, her voice tinged with concern and more than a hint of fear.
"Almost twice the length of the Pegasus!" D'Anna exclaimed, aghast.
"That would fit." Major Hailey agreed. "These smaller ones are about half the Galactica's length each."
"Judging by these images, it looks like there could be as many as two dozen of these smaller ships, plus that big one." Sonja observed. A Six, she was elected by the Cylons to stand in for Natalie until she was better.
"That's the single largest concentration of such ships we've seen since the fall of the Goa'uld empire." Colonel Erin Gant muttered.
"You know who these people are?" The President all but demanded of the gathered Tau'ri leaders, gesturing at the sheaf of printed images.
"No we don't." Colonel Davis shook his head. "Not for sure, anyway."
"We know who first introduced the design. But the original creators are gone, their ships divided up among several organizations in the galaxy today. We are reaching out to our allies to try and determine who these are." Colonel Gant spoke placatingly.
"Do you know for sure if this is Earth?" The President asked once more. This time visibly showing a hint of anxiety. Racetrack and Skulls just shared a look.
"We won't know for sure until we can scan and investigate up close. We're all just following the clues, same as you are." Colonel Davis replied gently.
"I doubt they're friendly." Skulls blurted out and flinched at the attention his words garnered. "I mean they fired upon us!"
The marine guard chose that exact moment to announce Admiral Adama's presence.
"Dad!"Lee Adama cried out, rushing towards his father. "What are you doing? You should be resting!"
The Admiral simply waved his son off. "I've rested all I can. Are those the images from the recon flight?"
"Yes they are." The President nodded, "but Bill..."
Admiral Adama simply nodded as the President trailed off, quietly examining the images. He stopped at the image of the alien craft holding station in the planet's upper atmosphere, his expression unreadable.
"Madame President, everyone, I would like to invite you all to my personal quarters where we can continue this discussion in private."
The President was visibly surprised, wondering what the Admiral had on his mind. The gathered Tau'ri and Cylon commanders simply shared curious looks before agreeing to his invitation.
Sitting on the camp chair, Doctor Sarah Gardner double-checked her notes as she typed up her progress report.
The last few days had been very productive. Very productive indeed. The first orbit around the planet had immediately yielded the location of the Stargate. It had been underwater, buried on a shallow shelf not far from the coast, surrounded by a circle of islets.
The Navy SEALs had relished the opportunity to dive into the waters surrounding the site, where they had found even more surprises.
Since then, it had been relocated to a stable location overlooking the coast, with a direct route to the first primary dig site, what the Colonials had termed the Opera House. She thought it was a strange name for a seat of government.
She continued working, enjoying the quiet as her staff, with the exception of those on sentry duty, turned in for the night. It had been a long day and tomorrow would likely be just as long, if not longer. It was the first night they would be spending on the surface. Previously they beamed back aboard the Proteus where they bedded down. Now with the base camp finally finished and fortified with fences and observation turrets, they could spare the Deep Space Carrier the clutter that an archaeological operation accumulated before it catalogued its findings.
She frowned as the messaging program beeped. It was a video chat invitation from Captain Hunter. His ship was still parked in geosynchronous orbit. Saving her work, she accepted, affixing a smile to her face.
"Captain Hunter, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I was just wondering how you were settling in?"
"What can I say? We have power, water purifiers, even hot water in the morning." She smiled. "Your marines did an excellent job."
"Well, it was mostly engineers from SGC that did the heavy lifting. How goes the dig? Any more insight into who these Lords of Kobol are?"
"We still have to check, but the prevailing theory is that there were two groups of aliens who accomplished the feats generally attributed today to the Lords of Kobol. This will be in my report, of course. The first group of aliens, the ones that brought their ancestors here, were quite obviously, the Goa'uld."
"I saw the report." Captain Hunter smiled. "The islets surrounding the Stargate's original location were actually landing platforms."
"Badly eroded ones, yes." Sarah agreed. "The SEALs were even able to find stelae identifying who built them. Some noteworthy names include Pelops, Nirrti, Yu, Ares, Athena, and several others."
"Any idea what for?" The former submariner wondered. "There isn't anything on this planet of interest to the Goa'uld. No Naquadah, no Trinium."
"I can only hazard a guess, but Nirrti and Pelops in particular were always interested in the path that the future evolution of humanity would take. And the planet is rather isolated. So, I can only assume it was related to that. More diving will probably have to be done, which I've no doubt the SEALs will enjoy, though not until we can spare more people to assist them."
"That's your area of expertise, I guess." Captain Hunter conceded. "What about the second group?"
"Now that's the larger puzzle. From what we can tell they just appeared around the time of the Exodus. We don't have anything on them, but I'm betting they helped build the ships the original Kobolians left in."
"After the impact event, right?" He continued as she nodded. "I'm sitting in orbit and the impact crater's pretty obvious from here. The planet was hit by an asteroid. It triggered a mass extinction event. Tidal waves wiped out the coastal populations and most of the industry. I'm guessing the survivors weren't in any condition to plan and execute the Exodus even if they wanted to."
"No, like us, it seems a lot of their industry and cities were built along the coastline." She smiled sadly. "Beyond that, we can only hope to uncover more clues for now."
Captain Hunter nodded and then paused, causing the archeologist to frown a bit at the sudden shift in tone. "Listen, we just heard from the Hammond and the Odyssey. They have notified us of a developing situation, and we may be called away at a moment's notice."
Doctor Gardner nodded as she considered how this would affect her dig. "If you must go, then you must go. They wouldn't call more ships unless they absolutely needed it."
"Thank you for understanding. I can leave you the marines and the SEALs to help out. The vehicles too."
"Then it shouldn't be a problem." Sarah smiled. "We have a good location here. High ground, clear line of sight to both the dig site and the Stargate, with easily defensible approaches. We should be fine on our own for a few days."
The Commander motioned them all to the sitting area as they filed in after him. "Please, have a seat."
The President led everybody to the couch, the gathered Tau'ri looking around with interest. The three Tau'ri colonels, along with the Cylons Deanna, John and Sonja, all sat down next to her while the junior officers, those who had been on the reconnaissance mission, remained standing.
"What's on your mind Bill?" President Roslin asked once more as the leader of the Colonial military rummaged in his office a bit, before walking back towards them, a book in his hand, fingers leafing between pages.
Drawing a deep breath he placed the book on the sitting table, and laid it open at a specific page. Laura Roslin frowned. A glimpse at the cover had told her it was one of those publications that occasionally came out, trying to inject science and deductive reasoning into understanding the Sacred Scrolls. All thought fled though, when she realized what was in the page the Admiral had marked.
It was an artist's depiction of one of the Galleons that brought the original tribes of Kobol to the colonies, pieced together from various clues scattered all throughout the Scrolls. It was in the shape of a slightly flattened three-sided pyramid.
The woman picked at the bowl before her. It was some sort of stew, with nuts, beans and ground meat mixed in. No doubt nutritious, at least the meat seemed to be real, which at least ranked it ahead of processed algae. She had a couple of hours to kill. Jemmy was still in the creche, and they had taken over feeding the kids in their care. They at least got real food, while the adults here in the cafeteria got served this.
For a while, they had gotten real food, too. Steaks, pot roasts, all manner of ways to cook food that had not been seen since before the Fall. Until the Sons of Ares decided to get stupid. Now everybody was being punished for the actions of a small few by having to eat food that was as drab as the uniforms of the marines that served it.
At least they had not gotten away with it. If the forced unobtrusiveness she was seeing from well known members was any indication. They were not throwing their weight around any more. Scuttlebutt was that somebody had paid a visit and taken their guns from them. Served them right. Now they were on tip toes in case somebody decided to extract payback for some past offense. By the looks of it, the marines would let them get it too.
Gianna
Almost two years now and she still missed him terribly. The way her name rolled off his tongue, the way he would look at her like she was the most beautiful thing in all of creation. It just was not fair. He had killed himself rather than endanger everyone. Endanger her and Jemmy. She wanted desperately to believe that. Even if he had survived, the Cylons all said his kind was on the other side of the civil war, now.
She must be missing him more than usual, if the sound of his voice seemed so real.
She stopped. Why was everyone staring at her? Her heart almost stopped, as she realized they were not staring at her. They were staring at something behind her. With mounting dread, she turned, slowly, drawing out the moment for as long as possible.
He was there. Looking at her that way only he could. He was flanked by two other males, she noted absently. Cylons, a Two and a Five, both looking uneasy at all the attention. This could not be real. Her knees simply lost all feeling and her chair tumbled to the floor, but she did not fall.
He was there, arms around her. Somebody was clapping. She did not care any more. She just closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest, tears in her eyes.
Colonel Paul Davis was in his quarters reading when the Ha'tak was detected approaching at high speed over hyperspace. Operation Hammer Scalpel had gone without a hitch. All the prep work they had done, all the intelligence gathering had paid off. As did the rather questionable decisions to spike the Colonials' food with Nanites on one hand, and plant signal boosters all over the Galactica's lower decks on the other.
The Nanites were the easy part. All they had to do was add it into the food the marines were serving up. They were fairly inert, and would pass through the human body in a few days through the usual means. While inside the human body however, they broadcast a weak signal very similar to that used by the subcutaneous locators on SGC personnel. The signal boosters had taken more finesse. They did not know enough of the lower decks' lay out, and having their people wandering around downstairs was not only suspicious but likely dangerous as well. In the end they had sent small robots jury-rigged from remote controlled toy cars. The men had joked around, calling it the mini-MALP because it was outfitted similarly with a small camera on an articulated mount and a manipulator arm. Yet it had been wildly successful.
Aside from the AAR's, there was also Doctor Gardner's report, which he would have to worry about at a later time. Putting the tablet down, he made his way to the bridge. Colonel Gant was already sitting on her command chair when he arrived. He got there just as the sensor officer announced the Ha'tak's arrival and its crew as the Hak'tyl. The Ha'tak was hailing them and he gave permission to respond as he turned towards the subspace communication station.
"Teal'c, Ishta," he warmly greeted the two faces that came onto the screen. Teal'c had been on leave and had opted to spend it on Dakara, familiarizing himself with the council.
"Colonel Davis, Colonel Gant, Colonel Carter, Colonel Mitchell." Formal as ever, Teal'c greeted each one individually with a nod. Ishta nodded along with him.
"Yo T! How goes the vacation? Welcome to our neck of the woods." Mitchell greeted his teammate enthusiastically.
"I am well, Cameron Mitchell." The former First Prime replied with a slight grin. "We bring news from the Jaffa High Council."
"What did they say?" Davis asked.
"The Council denied any knowledge of who was operating the base your warriors encountered." Ishta spoke. "Furthermore, they consider it outside the Free Jaffa Nation's sphere of influence, being located well away from Jaffa territories. They did not however, sanction any military action at this time, though they did not prohibit individual Council members from acting independently should more information be available."
"We suspect there may eventually be a battle, and have come to offer our aid." She finished.
"I see." Davis spoke hesitantly. "You know you don't have to."
"It would be our honor to offer assistance." Ishta replied smoothly. "Besides, if it were not for the Tau'ri and the Tok'ra we wouldn't even have a ship."
It was true. While the Free Jaffa's military assets were now under the direct control of the Council through an appointed Marshal, it was not always so. Originally each Council faction controlled its own military assets inherited from their previous Goa'uld overlords. That made military assets directly translatable into political influence. Even now, individual Council members were allowed to retain a small fleet, a Ha'tak or two plus a number of support vessels, for their own use.
As a purely ground based guerilla movement, the Hak'tyl had not even come close to owning any spacegoing assets. Coupled with their all female membership, it meant they ranked very low in the traditionally patriarchal Jaffa Council's pecking order. Unwilling to see one of their most reliable allies in such a disadvantaged position, the Tau'ri and the Tok'ra decided to do something about it. Pooling their resources, they refurbished and repaired a number of ships adrift from the battle of Dakara. It was not quite enough to outstrip the most powerful of the old Council's members, but it at least allowed the Hak'tyl to speak with some weight.
"Then we are very honored." Sam smiled.
"What news from the Tok'ra?" Teal'c asked.
"They haven't gotten back to us yet." Colonel Davis shook his head as Teal'c and Ishta nodded. Despite the often fractious relationship between the Jaffa and the Tok'ra, the former had learned to never doubt the latter's intelligence gathering capabilities.
"So, feel free to stick around. The Colonials are understandably jumpy, so warn us before you do anything." Cam drawled. He was about to say more but the sensor officer interrupted him.
"Incoming hyperspace contact!" The sensor officer suddenly barked.
"Who is it?" Colonel Davis asked.
"Does not match any currently known vessel." The Odyssey's sensor officer shook his head. "ETA 30 seconds."
"Go to Yellow Alert." Colonel Gant ordered.
On the communication screen, Ishta was ordering her own crew to alert as well.
"We are now detecting it as well." Teal'c stated, all signs of levity gone.
The hyperspace window opened, and the unknown ship emerged. The design lineage could be identified by the small pyramid perched on the ship's superstructure. It seemed to resemble a Ha'tak somewhat but was significantly smaller. In addition, the pyramid's shape, indeed the entire ship's shape seemed to have been stretched at one corner to form an arrowhead shape.
"It's broadcasting a Tok'ra IFF!" The sensor officer called out, and a palpable sense of relief rolled through the bridge as Colonel Gant stood down the alert. Teal'c kept facing the screen, though. Scrutinizing his own display, Paul assumed.
It was some moments before he spoke, frowning.
"It resembles a Star Destroyer."