Battlestar Galactica: The Guiding Fire
(A Battlestar Galactica-Halo Wars crossover)
Episode 1
Those Once Lost: Part 3
With
Willem Dafoe as Major Vladimir Markov
Guest Starring Shia LaBeouf as Ensign Reilly
Author's Note: For those who don't get why Shia LaBeouf is playing a character, watch Scar (Season 2, episode 15) to get the joke.
199 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA BS-75
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
1 HOUR AFTER CONTACT
"What the HELL just happened!" Tigh roared as the bridge erupted into chaos.
"Confirmed report of Pelican dropship crash landing in the port flight pod, damage to the deck is minimal." An officer called from the Deck Division Station
"Receiving contradicting reports of Cylon Centurion presence aboard the dropship." Dee called out, sorting through the confused radio chatter. "Viper Ten-Twenty-Six has sustained significant damage from small arms fire." She added.
"Get an emergency response team and a Marine detachment on the deck to secure that bird!" Admiral Adama ordered at the top of his voice.
"SIR!" Gaeta called out to the admiral. Adama quickly swung around to face him. "Detecting several nuclear signatures from the Spirit of Fire and a growing electromagnetic signature excess of seventy million, no one hundred sixty million…electromagnetic signature growing exponentially sir."
"Keep it monitored." Adama replied before turning his attention to one of the dozen other emergency situations developing.
"Viper squadrons are requesting permission to engage Admiral!" Another officer from the Comms Station voiced.
"Admiral, I have Captain Cutter on the line, he wants to speak to you immediately!" Dee announced.
"Put it though the hard line. All Viper Squadrons are to hold their positions and only return fire unless fired upon!" Adama ordered.
Tigh marched up to one of the other officers at the Comms Station. "You, get me through to the escort flight, I want to know what the frak happened out there!" Adama turned back to the main Command and Control Station and picked up his hard-lined phone.
"This is Galactica Actual,"
"You want to tell me why your escorts just shot down one of my Pelicans with three of my men aboard." Captain Cutter said sternly.
"My executive officer is investigating into circumstances as to why your ship was fired upon as we speak. An emergency response crew has already been deployed the scene of the crash, if there are any surviving crew, you will be contacted immediately."
"I'm afraid we are far past excuses Admiral, you have ten minutes to stand down weapons and surrender or I will gut your ship from stem to stern. Spirit of Fire Actual out." And with that final ultimatum, the line went dark.
Admiral Adama slowly hung up the phone before announcing his next order. "Put a timer on the board, Spirit of Fire will commence attack in ten minutes." All Adama could do now was wait for Tigh's assessment and see whether or not the recon flight was in the right or wrong in their action. But given how Cutter had reacted in comparison to typical Cylon behavior, it wasn't looking too good on their part. Starbuck's theory of Spirit being from the Thirteenth was looking more and more likely, which at the moment was ironically unfortunate given the current situation.
"Admiral," Lieutenant Gaeta called out again. "The electromagnetic signature emanating from Spirit of Fire is now exceeding seventy-nine-billion units, sir." He said, with his voice trembling. Adama could barely hide the fear growing inside him, he had thought Captain Cutter's threat to gut Galactica nothing more than chest puffing, but now the Admiral was realizing that the man may have been quite literal in his statement.
APRIL 16 2534 1623 HOURS
SPARTAN RED TEAM
I HOUR 2 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
"Is everyone in one piece?" Jerome said to his teammates magnetically clasped on to the outer hull of Galactica's flight pod beside him.
Douglas sounded a little out of breath when he replied. "Yeah I'm good, rather not do that again though."
The Spartans had bailed just as the tail broke away from the rest of the Pelican, a good thing too since the debris had given them enough cover to escape unnoticed.
"I lost my AR." Alice said simply in reply to Jerome.
"What, a rotary, belt-fed, machinegun ain't enough for you?" Douglas replied handing off the HMG to her.
"I don't know, a rocket launcher would've been kinda nice a minute ago." Alice replied, taking a dig at her fellow Spartan.
"The ammo pack went down with the bird." Jerome announced to his team. "But we still have the explosives." That was firmly strapped to the Red Team leader's back and not going to get lost anytime soon.
"So what's the plan now?" Alice asked while she checked her modified M41 Vulcan for damage.
Douglas huffed. "Plan B." He answered for Jerome.
"How are we infiltrating?" Alice asked in return. "Hangar's gonna be packed with a security detail. And we could get bottlenecked in either of those bridging sections."
Douglas began scanning up and down the iron grey warship. "Can't be the only way in, a ship this big needs emergency airlock doors or escape pods. But we could always make our own door."
Jerome was a step ahead of his fellow Spartan. "I got eyes on what looks to be an airlock on the main body of the ship." In the top right corner of their HUDs Douglas and Alice saw the feed from Jerome's helmet camera and then a waypoint marker was set on their displays. The airlock was right on the end of the fore section, almost unperceivable to a normal eye. "We'll infiltrate from there and head for the bridge. It will likely be in the core of that heavily armored fore section. Get ready to jump Spartans, we'll be going in hot."
Red Team pushed off the hull together, propelling themselves toward the Battlestar's main body. Hopefully they'd just look like a large piece of debris from the Pelican on Galactica's sensors. Two minutes passed and the Spartans remained unmolested through their flight and to when they finally made contact with the main body of the venerable Battlestar. With their boots on the hull, they quickly assumed breach formation around the airlock. Alice and Douglas kept their guns trained on the sky while Jerome retrieved a length of thermite-carbon cord from the pack and attached it to the locking mechanism on the center line of the door.
"Charge is active, Douglas get ready to breach." Douglas's acknowledgement light blinked green in affirmative before he took an inverted position above the door with Jerome, ready to pull it open.
There was a slight give as the main locks were broken and the two Spartans easily pulled apart the 1000 pound doors. Positioned at the top right and left hand corners, with weapons ready, they then leaned in and scanned for hostiles. "Clear." Jerome announced. With no threats detected, the Spartans quickly entered before the emergency systems engaged, shutting their infiltration point behind them.
"Jerome, give me the pack, I've already got the big gun." Alice motioned her machinegun. Without a question Jerome handed it over, he instinctually knew what she was thinking and that she was right, there was no need for two Spartans to be encumbered and Alice would cover their rear. Once the swap was made Alice spun up her HMG and aimed it at the window to the airlock control.
"Red Team, you know the drill. Complete the mission, no one dies." Jerome reminded.
Alice fired a burst into the window, the armor piercing rounds easily piercing through and creating dozens of stress fractures. After that it only took a single blow from Jerome to completely shatter the reinforced glass and the three MJOLNIR-clad Spartan super-soldiers moved inside Galactica, God help anyone who got in their way.
199 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA BS-75
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
1 HOUR 8 MINUTES AFTER CONTACT
"Sirs, the maintenance team we sent to airlock twelve are reporting back." Damage control announced to the Admiral and his XO nervously. "We have been boarded sir." The announcement brought the work of several officers to a stand still while the more seasoned members like Gaeta kept their focus.
"Are they sure?" Adama asked.
"The locking mechanism has been melted clean through and the glass has been shot out to airlock control."
"Gods damn." Tigh half-whispered with dread.
Gaius stood off in a corner out of the way of the bridge personnel and watching Adama talk with another section head about some other dire situation, himself feeling more than useless at the moment. Negotiations were out of the question now and the ship that might be their only salvation of ever finding Earth was just two minutes from firing every weapon it had at Galactica. And because of that, Gaius was racking his brain into how he had failed, never seemingly to have been given the opportunity to test his worth to Six and God. What could he have done?
"Don't beat yourself up yet Gaius." He heard Six say, realizing she had appeared beside him. "The opportunity to prove yourself hasn't passed you by."
Gaius quickly turned his head to her, forgetting for a moment to act subtly in her presence as to not look completely mad to other people. "You mean?"
Six stroked her hand on the side of his face, her fingertip outlining the edge of his beard. "God would never be so cruel as to present hope and then suddenly take it away, especially not to you."
"What do you mean Six?"
"They're here Gaius, on this ship, heading for this very room right now. The immortal sons and daughters of Hercules. If you believe the rumors."
"What?" Gaius replied at Six's cryptic words. "When, how soon will they be here?"
Six moved directly in front of Gaius, placing her immaterial hands upon his shoulders. "Very soon Gaius, in fact they are just moments away and when they do arrive you will not have much time to act, so you will want to choose your words wisely." She finished with a devious yet enchanting smile.
As if on queue gunshots sounded from the rifles of the Marine guards who were stationed right outside the CIC. Gaius's muscles jumped and his face began to lose color as silence now set in, heralding an impending storm soon to come down upon everyone in that room. "Remember, the fate of humanity rests in your hands." And with that final ultimatum, Six pushed him to the ground just as she did back on Caprica.
Adama had stood next to the command station when all hell broke loose. The boarders from Spirit of Fire had managed to bypass every security measure Galactica had and seemingly appeared out of nowhere right next to the CIC. The Marine guards stationed outside were either dead or incapacitated. The Marines in the room took positions by the main entryways with their weapons at the ready and stoic expressions hiding the fear apparent in their eyes. Then without warning, the three main doors to the CIC all blew simultaneously. The Marines found themselves blown back by the detonation of the breaching charges, even Tigh was knocked to the floor and Adama would have been as well if he didn't have the command station at his back. The deafening explosions accompanied by the sharp heat wave momentarily incapacitated him as well. The memory of Boomer's sudden violent attack on him in that very place flashed in his mind.
When he opened his eyes, a massive figure was nearly upon him, not a Cylon Centurion as had been in a few of his nightmares but an olive green armored giant with a gleaming gold visor reflecting Adama's own image back at him. In less than a second the giant pushed Bill back onto the station's tabletop with a single hand that at once managed to knock all the breath out of him. The next moment Adama found the cold metal barrel of a pistol in between his eyes and silence once again gripped the CIC.
"No one moves." Alice said clearly as she spun up the rotating triple barrel of her M41. All around she could see in the faces of the very human looking personnel of Galactica as their collective stomachs dropped simultaneously at the sight of the spooling HMG. One could almost be certain that no one was breathing as well. Douglas moved down from the raised row of stations to join Jerome, keeping his M7s raised at all times. "Everyone up!" he barked to all the CIC. "You hide, you get shot." The Spartan ordered, not taking a chance at someone pulling a sidearm out from under a console. The crew complied, slowly revealing themselves and standing with arms raised.
"Order this ship to stand down immediately." Jerome commanded, pressing the barrel of his magnum into the Admiral's temple.
Tigh sat himself up from off the floor. "This is what you call negotiations?" the surly XO bellowed.
Douglas turned his attention to the elderly executive officer. "This was Plan B until you assholes blew up our ride." He replied, aiming one of his SMGs at the balding man's chest, silencing him.
"Trust us; you don't want to see Plan C." Alice threatened. She covered Douglas as he secured the room and stripped the fallen but still breathing Colonial Marines of their weapons before they regained consciousness. Though statistically there was still a 9% chance of a fatal injury, it looked like non-lethal pressure wave delivered by the breach-bang charges still did their job.
Gaius pushed himself to his knees in a confused shocked state, he couldn't remember what happened. The ringing in his ears brought back memories of his time on Kobol when he and his search team were ambushed by Centurions. He blinked several times, clearing both the remnants of carbon smoke and his own sense of confusion bringing him awareness to an immense figure holding Admiral Adama down on the command station and pressing a pistol to his forehead.
"Order this ship to stand down." The humanoid figure seemingly repeated with what must have been more weight in his voice than the first time he had said it.
"You'll have to shoot me before I surrender this ship." Adama replied with gritted teeth, stubborn even in the face of imminent death.
Adrenaline and a rush of oxygen as result of Gaius' heavy breathing quickly brought him greater clarity. It all came back at once, the ship of the Thirteenth Tribe, Six's ultimatum, who these people were, and the purpose he had been given. This had to be his time. If he did not act right then, humanity would be doomed. With his head still throbbing, Gaius stood himself on shaky legs and shouted loudly. "I am the Vice President!"
The red-striped invader's head turned toward Gaius as did another holding the twin submachineguns and what appeared to be a half dozen Marine sidearms latched to their belt and chest. Gaius slowly raised his nervously shaking hands as a show of peace. "My name is Gaius Baltar and I am the Vice President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol." He said more clearly, if more nervously with the gazes of the two heavily armed olive clad figures upon him. "Please…I beg you if you are human don't hurt anyone. We, we can still negotiate a peaceful solution to all this if we all just stop pointing guns at each other. No one has to die." The invaders from the Thirteenth Tribe did not move, but they didn't shoot him either. With a drying mouth Gaius then asked them. "What are your names? Can you show us your faces to prove you're human?"
The red-stripped invader turned his attention back to Adama who still lay planted on the tabletop. The invader moved his pistol down over Bill's heart then to the Admiral's surprise, the golden mirrored visor faded into crystal clear glass. Beneath Bill saw the upper half of face belonging to a man that looked far too young for someone of his size. "Senior Chief Petty Officer Spartan Jerome Zero-Nine-Two."
"Senior Chief Petty Officer Alice, Spartan One-Three-Zero." Spoke the invader wielding the massive machinegun who clearly spoke with a feminine tone to Gaius' surprise.
"Spartan Douglas Zero-Forty-Two, Senior Chief Petty Officer." Finished the last invader with his growling monotone but one thing was absolutely clear from the very human faces showing behind their visors. These were definitely not Centurions.
Gaius took a breath as his nerves were beginning to solidify again. "Admiral, we've made a grave mistake. Galactica needs to stand down its weapons immediately, these people are clearly not Cylons."
"How the hell do we know that?" Tigh spoke up as he tentatively rose up from the floor. "They could be some freaky sewn up half canner abominations for all we know."
"What the fuck are you talking about? The hell is a Cylon?" Alice queried as she continued sweeping her HMG across the CIC.
"Suffice it to say, highly advanced automatons." Gaius said in very simplified terms with the translator filling in another odd word. "We created them decades ago and they rebelled, violently. A hundred and ninety-nine days ago all twelve of our colonies were destroyed by Cylon attack and the they have been hunting after us ever since. The fleet your ship has encountered is all that is left of our civilization." Gaius said with a somber tone. "The Cylons have infiltrators, units that are nearly indistinguishable from normal humans. Spies and saboteurs have plagued us almost every step of our way just to get this far." He offered as explanation for what these people might have perceived to be rampant paranoia.
Douglas then spoke up, directed at Saul Tigh. "We're not fucking robots old man. We get enough of that crap from the ODSTs."
Ignoring that outburst, Gaius continued. "Please don't hold anything against Admiral Adama, he was only trying to protect the fleet. There was no way of knowing with absolute certainty you weren't Cylons. If you release him, I give you my word as Vice President I will mediate peaceful negotiations."
"Sir?" Alice asked, directed at her CO.
After a tense second, the Spartan leader pulled back his sidearm and stepped away, allowing the Admiral to stand himself off from the station. The other Spartan Douglas lowered his weapons to his sides and the electronic whir of the female Spartan's Vulcan slowly faded.
Now it was their turn. Gaius cleared his throat as he lowered his arms. "Admiral?"
Adama met Gaius' eyes as he flattened the creases on his uniform where the Spartan had his hand on his chest moments before. "Lieutenant Gaeta order all squadrons to stand down. Disengage weapon locks and pull our nuclear missiles from firing position. Dualla, open a line to Spirit of Fire."
Both the two officers cautiously sat themselves at their stations and followed their given orders. "Connection established Admiral." Dee announced. Bill picked up the phone, hearing Cutter's voice almost immediately.
"Admiral?"
"Spirit, this is Galactica Actual, we are standing down weapons at this time. I have your soldiers aboard, alive and intact. They've since notified me of your…authenticity." Bill said for the lack of a better word. "Our fleet is being pursued actively by a hostile force seeking our annihilation and one of my pilots made a critical error in misidentifying your men as enemy combatants. You have my apologies and I would like to propose a ceasefire. The Colonial Vice President has volunteered himself to lead the negotiations on our behalf."
"I'm glad we could finally come to an understanding Admiral. I'll have my Marines and airmen notified immediately of the situation. Can I speak to the leader of Red Team?"
Bill looked to the strange soldier of the Thirteenth Tribe with his typical stern yet stoic expression as he held the phone out to him. The Spartan pressed the sidearm in his right hand to the plate on his thigh where it then stayed, held by what Bill assumed was some kind of electromagnetic mechanism. Then with a hiss emanating from his helmet, Jerome removed it with a quick pull, revealing the fair, too young of a face Bill had glimpsed. The Spartan looked to be only in his late teens or very early twenties but had the solid eyes of a veteran who had seen just as many years of action disturbingly. Holding the thickly armored helm under his left arm, he was about to take the phone from Admiral Adama.
BEE-BEEP BEE-BEEP BEE-BEEP BEE-BEEP BEE-BEEP BEE-BEEP BEE-BEEP BEE-BEEP
Author's Note: Yeah, I'm a complete bastard for that cliffhanger but if I went on this part would stretch on way too long and I hate 4000+ word chapters. Part 4 will be a while but since this is getting more traction than my other story, I'll put greater effort into this for the time being. And as for part 4, don't worry. Things are going get hot in a way only BSG can give you a sense of scale for.