Battlestar Galactica: The Guiding Fire
(A Battlestar Galactica-Halo Wars crossover)
Episode 2
Heritage: Part 3
With
Gideon Emery as Captain James Cutter
Faye Kingslee as Ellen Anders
Courtenay Taylor as Serina
Willem Dafoe as Major Vladimir Markov
Rob Mayes as Jerome-092
Christopher Eccleston as Lieutenant Colonel Christian McCullen
Zachary Quinto as Petty Officer Jonathan Green
Chiwetel Ejiofor as Lieutenant Isaac Larson
Michael Peña as Petty Officer Lukas Blake
Jay Baruchel as Lieutenant Scott Travis
Sam Elliott as Chief Engineer Andrew Prescott
And Introducing Karl Urban as Major Soren Heidegger
APRIL 21 2534
204 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
CLOUD 9
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
49,563 SURVIVORS
In a nondescript conference room aboard the Fleet's largest civilian ship, President Roslin entered the room filled with the noisily speaking representatives that made up the Quorum of Twelve currently seated at a lengthy conference table.
"Thank you all for coming." Roslin thanked as she took her seat at the head of the table.
"I presume this is about our proposal to Captain Cutter to join the Colonial government?" Marshall Bagot, the representative of Virgon put forth.
"That is correct, Mr. Bagot." Roslin said with some hesitancy, as she prepared herself.
The darker skinned representative from Gemenon, Sarah Porter opened her palm laying on the table in a gesture of emptiness at the President's words. "And? How did he respond? Did he reject some of the proposals?"
"He…rejected all of it." Roslin stated succinctly as if she were ripping off a bandage. "From the Articles to even taking on refugees, he flat out refused to take any of it into consideration." She said, sparking several discussions between the Quorum members.
"I could have told you this was going to happen." Tom Zarek, of Sagittaron spoke up with a sagacious tone that came off to Roslin as self-indulgent, knowing Zarek's act as a man of the people as only an instrument to feed into his own political ends. It irritated her to no end that so few people could see that. "We're not dealing with just another Colony like the President here thinks we are. Earth's people have been separated from us for a length of time exceeding four-thousand years. Of course they would feel hesitant, an entire fleet of people that just popped out of the blue asked them if they wanted to sign over their rights to our laws. That would definitely make me more than a little bit warry if I was under those circumstances." Zarek said as an indirect criticism toward Laura. "What we're dealing with is a foreign government just like we all were to each other prior to the signing of the Articles over fifty years ago." Zarek explained. "That's how we need to treat this situation."
"That was not the issue Mr. Zarek." Roslin stated solidly with a harsh tone. "At least not anymore."
Safiya Sanne of Picon darted his eyes left and right in apparent confusion. "What has the issue become, madam President?"
"It has come to my attention that Captain Cutter considers the Fleet and its people, the people we represent at far less value than anyone aboard his own ship. I personally don't think he feels a kinship of any kind with anyone of the Twelve Colonies on even a humanitarian basis." This brought on further murmurs that were quickly silenced as she continued. "So much so that I have become concerned as to if he will keep his promise to take us to Earth once his ship is FTL capable."
"You think he will leave us behind?" Sarah Porter asked again.
Roslin removed her glasses. "I think it is a very real possibility when we take into consideration that by leading us to Earth and her own colonies that we may very well be leading the cylons there as well, opening them to the same form of attack that we all have suffered."
"We would be bringing war to their doorstep." Eldaio Pulsha of Scorpia commented, seeing Roslin's train of thought.
Laura cleared her throat. "From what I've learned about the cylons from the captured model of Sharon Valerii aboard the Galactica, the cylons would likely feel drawn into conflict with the Thirteenth Tribe in fear of retaliation for what they did to our worlds. When you place yourself in Captain Cutter's viewpoint, if the cylons never find out where Earth is, then the people of the Thirteenth Tribe will never have to throw away lives in a war that was never theirs to begin with. So yes, I believe this is a very serious possibility."
"Well, how do you suggest we respond, madam President?" Zarek asked with a hint of condescension.
APRIL 23 2534, 0745 HOURS (UNSC TIME)
206 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE CFV-88
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
49,562 SURVIVORS
"Jeez, can you believe this B.S?" Petty Officer Lukas Blake said, reading the latest issue of the ship's self-published newspaper while his fellow Petty Officer and member of the Bridge crew did battle with the coffee machine. Currently, the pair were situated in a small break room a few decks above the Bridge that had miraculously survived the Spirit's conversion from a colony ship to naval support vessel. It wasn't big, with only a single small table positioned in the middle of the small room, barely big enough for a cramped game of poker for three people.
Petty Officer Jonathan Green grunted as he hit the side of the machine with the side of his closed fist. "Damn it." the ship's helmsman quietly swore.
"Hey," Luke spoke up. "You read this?"
With a roll of the eyes and a sigh Jon answered as he pulled open the machine's casing. "No, I haven't yet." He said passively until coming across the source of his frustrations. "Serina, what the hell is going on, I just want a little sugar in my coffee and this thing is full on liquid sweetener."
"Too much sugar is bad for you Mr. Green," Serina's voice came over the intercom. "I'm merely acting in the best interest for your health. I would like to suggest you try some tea instead, you are from New Harmony after all, I'd think you'd be comfortable with a cup."
"You're doing this?" a frustrated helmsman asked.
"You'll thank me in eighty years Mr. Green." Serina spoke with assurance.
Luke chuckled as he took a sip of the liquid in his own mug marked with the Spirit of Fire's iconic emblem. "Won't fricking matter if we don't make it home. Serina, is this shit right? The Colonial…" he squinted at the paper. "How do you pronounce this?"
"Quorum." Serina replied.
"Yeah thanks," he acknowledged as he continued. "Their Quorum is calling for us to end our mining op because those flyboys nearly bought it a week ago. Not our fault they forgot how a fucking radio works. 'We request that Commander Cutter put an immediate halt to the Spirit of Fire's dangerous practice of asteroid detonation mining, a practice that has been discontinued under Colonial law for a hundred and six years.' - asks the Colonial President, Laura Roslin." Luke quoted, huffing an indignant laugh as a response. "Well sorry lady, I'll remember to pack our fucking pickaxes next time we decide to get stranded out in the middle of space, perra estúpida." He swore in Spanish.
"They're just cross that the Captain blew off their offer to sign off his right to independent command for practically nothing in return, which is how I am beginning to feel a bit myself if I don't get my coffee this morning Serina." Jon said in an annoyed raised tone of voice.
"I don't even see why you like the stuff," Luke commented. "It's just a load of artificial flavoring mixed in with a tiny bit of caffeine powder. I just take the powder plain in water and that does me fine."
Scott turned to face him with a cocked eyebrow. "I don't. Wait, you're drinking just warm water?"
Luke grinned in return. "Grandad was an asteroid miner in Epsilon Eridani back in his day, he called it Belter's Tea. You get used to it."
"Can't be any worse than this pigswill." Jon admitted, pouring the contents of his mug down the drain of the small sink before placing it back under the tap of the coffee machine. "Anything else in there?" Jon asked the older Petty Officer as the man flipped through the pages. "Are they going to hold their FTL drives hostage if we don't play ball with them?"
"Hey, Spirit has cryo-tubes, if they want to turn this into a waiting game, they're gonna fucking lose. What do you think Serina?"
"Nothing more than politicians complaining and making empty threats." Serina assessed.
"So, doing what they do best then." Jon added as he pulled his freshly filled mug out while Luke set the paper down on the table seeing Jon was ready to head for the Bridge. The two left together, Jon taking an experimental sip of his 'tea', causing him to shake his head. "That is… something." he said, as he swallowed the tasteless warm water. "So, what's on the schedule for today Serina?" he asked.
"The Captain's set up a rendezvous with the Battlestar Pegasus to pick up the first of our Colonial Hyperlight Drives at oh-nine-thirty hours, Major Heidegger will be taking personal command of that operation. And while we're in the vicinity, the Captain will be headed aboard the Galactica to meet with Admiral Adama personally and participate in a ceremony to honor the Colonial pilots who died during our first battle with the cylons. After that, Captain has us headed back out into the belt to crack some more rocks. I've finally managed to parse out a few decent sized deposits of tungsten for our MAC array and turrets."
The pair then stepped into the open door of the elevator down to the Bridge. "That's our Captain." Luke said proudly as he took another gulp from his mug right as the doors closed.
APRIL 23 2534, 0805 HOURS (UNSC TIME)
206 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA BS-75
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
Two such coffee mugs were being clinked together in a showboating display of them to all the other pilots in the Galactica's rec room as Jay and Jesse brought their souvenirs from their trip to the Spirit of Fire together before taking a drink, their mark as the first Colonials to have ever set foot on the Spirit much to Starbuck's chagrin, having missed out on her chance due to Reilly being a jumpy little shit.
Kara offered the annoyed false smile she often bore in return. "Yeah, laugh it up you two," she said to the pair sitting comfortably at a table wearing proud shit-eating grins as they soaked in the moment. "Didn't you two also get an ass-chewing from the Captain while you were over there?" she remarked in effort to take the wind from their sails.
Then without warning the door to the room swung open violently, creating a godawful screech from the hinges that had likely not seen a drop of oil in a decade. Kat came barging through, still wearing her flight suit from running CAP for the mining ship. She made a beeline for the room's bottle of the Chief's homemade moonshine, filling an empty mug with what looked like three-fingers full before downing the whole thing at once. The porcelain mug knocked loudly against the table as she slammed it down in apparent frustration.
"Shit, Kat what happened?" Helo asked as he walked up with a bit of trepidation as the Viper pilot slid down into a chair at the empty table.
Kat responded by pulling something out from her flight jacket and slamming it on the table as well, revealed to be a pair of hexagonal dog tags still stained with fresh blood.
"Reilly?" Starbuck asked, trying to figure out what happened.
"That fraker got another of us." Kat said with simmering rage.
"Shit that makes three of us he's gotten." Esrin said with a far more dour tone.
Starbuck leaned down, placing her elbows on the table as she tried to look at Kat's eyes on her downward facing head. "You sure it was the same one?" she asked with great seriousness, not wanting to put any more credence on the growing rumor that there was a cylon ace hunting Viper pilots down. With Reilly, that made three lost so far.
"It was the same one Starbuck. The Raider with the fraked up face. Scar." Kat said with deliberate and anger-filled sentences before she poured herself another cup of booze.
Starbuck rose back up, not knowing what else to do for her former trainee besides let her work it out herself in Kat's own way. Gods she hoped things were going better for Lee on the Pegasus.
APRIL 23 2534, 0932 HOURS (UNSC TIME)
206 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
BATTLESTAR PEGASUS BS-62
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
It was an auspicious day for the Fleet with many a camera pointed out the portholes and windows of the various civilian ships at the iconic profile of the Spirit of Fire as she gracefully flew into the Fleet to come alongside the Pegasus which even she, the ship the Fleet had given the moniker of 'Beast' to, seemed small beside the tall-profiled UNSC ship.
"Battlestar Pegasus, this is Major Heidegger aboard Pelican Flight Zero-Alpha-One inbound for pickup of precious cargo." The UNSC Air Force Major communicated to the Landing Signal Officer's station within the Pegasus' topside port flight pod where another Major by the name of Lee Adama, the Pegasus' XO was taking personal command of the FTL exchange between Pegasus and the Spirit of Fire.
"Copy that Pelican Flight, this is Major Lee Adama, I got you on DRADIS now making your final approach, call the ball."
"I have the ball. Bravo-Two, stay eight-mark-five meters off my wing." The Major instructed
"Rodger that sir." The pilot of the other pelican replied.
Out the window Lee could see the pair of large dropships that looked vaguely like super-sized Raptors glide beautifully into the interior of the landing deck, deploying lengthy landing struts off of its overhanging tail and landing off to the side of the landing strip, one in front of the other with the aid of two aviation handlers and their light wands.
"Touchdown." Both pilots communicated. "Setting engines to standby, awaiting arrival of precious cargo."
APRIL 23 2534, 0935 HOURS (UNSC TIME)
206 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
BATTLESTAR GALACTICA BS-75
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
"Thank you for having me aboard again Admiral." Cutter thanked as he and Admiral Adama made their way down the triangular halls in the direction of the pilots' ready room under escort of two Colonial Marines and the Captain's ODSTs.
"Thank you for doing this for my pilots. I honestly wasn't expecting this given the circumstances of our initial contact." Adama thanked in returned, breaking his usual stoicism. "I also heard reports on your last meeting with the President."
"It's the least I can do for them, as for President Roslin, I've been sending her messages but she hasn't been responding to any of them since I refused to hand over operational command of my ship, which I hope you can understand why I refused."
"I can." Was Bill's simple reply, short and to the point as ever.
Cutter shifted the simple narrow white box under his left arm to get a better grip on it. "From this point on I was hoping coordination between Spirit and the Fleet could be done through the two of us so we can leave out this political nonsense. I don't think the Quorum or the President has a proper grasp on reality right now."
"They're holding on to as much as what's left of their old lives as they can." Adama explained tactfully. "We need to keep moral up among the civilian population as much as possible. Our entire civilization just got destroyed."
"I realize that Admiral, but right now they're nothing but an obnoxious pain in the ass. Spirit is a warship, there's nothing else she can do to get the ore she needs besides asteroid cracking and I need my ship back up at full offensive capability with the cylons still out there." Cutter stated as they came to the hatch to the ready room, which the Marine at guard opened for them.
"Attention on deck!" a pilot called out as the pair of naval commanders entered, causing a rustling of bodies as the assembled Colonial pilots seated in the ascending rows of chairs stood to salute. At the head of the room, a young woman with short golden-blonde hair and sharp features too saluted adjacent to a podium, briefly locking eyes with Captain Cutter.
He followed Adama to the podium as the ODSTs and Marines stood off to the side of the room as to not get in the way of the ceremony. Adama saluted the young woman and Cutter followed suit. "At ease." Adama said loudly to the assembled pilots who then resumed their seats. "Captain Cutter, this is Captain Kara Thrace. I believe the two of you know one another."
Cutter and Starbuck shook hands, offering each other genuinely pleasant smiles subdued only by the ceremony of the moment. "It's nice to finally put a face to the voice Captain. Though, I know I won't be able to understand a damn thing you say right now."
Cutter said nothing in return, knowing it to be so and instead presented the Galactica's Air Group Commander the plain box he was holding.
Kara took it, removing the lid and revealing a wooden plaque emblazoned with the emblem of the Spirit of Fire like the one on the mugs Finnegan and Esrin brought back. This one was over ten centimeters across and made with various metals, the gold being the most obvious and made Starbuck's eyes light up. She almost didn't notice the lettering around the emblem was spelled out in plain Caprican, including the ship's apparent motto:
'The Outcome Justifies the Deed.'
Further down the plaque were the seals of the Colonies and the UNSC beside each other also in gold above two separate lists in gold plating of the casualties both parties took in the air battle.
Off to the side Cutter pulled a folded slip of paper from a pocket in the fold of his tunic. "The Captain here was hoping you would speak on his behalf." Admiral Adama told to Kara as he held out his hand in an offer to take the box. She accepted, giving the box and taking the speech from Cutter and took a stand at the podium, clearing her throat a moment before she unfolded the paper to begin.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Colonial Fleet Air Arm. Well, that's being generous." Starbuck said as a joking aside that brought on more than a few laughs from the pilots whom the playful insult was directed at. "It gives me great honor today to join the same men and women my own pilots fought alongside in the face of overwhelming odds to which we won a stunning victory over our enemies." Starbuck said proudly but as she read the next few lines, her smile faded. "Yet victories seldom come without cost. We are reminded of that cost when we see the empty seats and beds, when we speak aloud and think of what those lost would have said if they were still with us, when we mistakenly see the ghosts of friends linger in our periphery, even though we know them to be gone. They are not here so we can be and continue the fight for the sake of the people we care about and the safety of humanity." Starbuck swallowed a slight lump in her throat before she took a breath to continue.
"This plaque will serve as an eternal reminder of the first day the Thirteen Tribes fought together once more." Adama removed the plaque from the box completely and handed it up to Kara who then held it aloft for all the pilots to see. "Constructed of gold, copper, titanium and iron found in this system where the battle took place so that we may, in a way always have a connection to the place where we left friends and comrades behind. In body... but not in spirit." Kara finished to an applause by her pilots who then gave her and Captain Cutter a standing ovation. Kara's smile returned and she waved up Hot Dog to take the plaque for her while she again shook hands with the Captain, thanking him.
\\\\\\O
"That was a good speech," Adama congratulated as the pair again walked the halls, the ceremony having ended. "I'm sorry that you couldn't give it yourself."
"It was better Captain Thrace gave it, they were her pilots. She deserved it." Cutter replied.
Adama then slowed to a stop at a Y intersection as he wore a pensive expression that raised Cutter's curiosity. "This way," he said, leading the Captain down the path to the right.
"Are we still headed for the CIC?" Cutter asked after a minute of walking.
"We're making a detour. There's a matter that needs to be brought to your attention."
Adama's words made Cutter's eyebrows narrow but he said nothing and continued to follow until they came to a hatch guarded by two Marines.
"Open it." Adama ordered.
"Sir," the Marine replied and followed the Admiral's command. Cutter followed Adama inside, the ODSTs sticking close to him should something happen in the next moments. Two more Marines stood guard on the inside of the doorway facing what looked to be a containment cell containing a young woman who then stood up from a cot with brown hair and facial structure indicative of Asian descent though it was extremely unlikely she even knew what Asia was.
"Who is she?" Cutter asked, reserving a slew of greater questions, knowing Adama had brought him here for a reason.
The woman looked at the two through the glass confused but barely showing it. "She's a cylon." Adama stated, catching Cutter by surprise as he took his eyes from the very human looking woman and placed them on the Admiral who continued to stare through the reinforced glass. It wasn't that he didn't know of the existence of these humanoid cylon infiltrators, the civilian fleet's unencrypted transmissions and Serina saw to that, but the fact that Adama had one as a prisoner, he did not expect. "She was captured several months ago, she claims she wants to defect and has been providing us with intelligence on the enemy."
"I've heard about them over the fleet's chatter but I never thought one would look so…human." Cutter said as he stepped right up to the cell as did the apparent cylon who looked him over in attempt to figure out who this newcomer was. On her side of the glass the cylon picked up a corded phone handset hooked into the wall of the cell and 'she' looked back to Cutter's eyes, his own immediately finding another on his own side. "Admiral, with your permission, I'd like to ask it a few questions." Cutter asked with curiosity painting his voice.
In response Adama took up the handset and flipped a switch beside the phone's wall hook, causing a then unseen intercom speaker above the cell to pop electronically as it came to life.
"This is one of them, right?" the woman's voice came over the intercom. "Helo told me you actually found a ship of the Thirteenth Tribe but I almost didn't believe him." She said, continuing to examine Cutter's foreign looking uniform like she wasn't sure he was real.
Adama held the handset upside-down as he spoke into the receiver. "This is Captain James Cutter, commander of the ship we encountered. He would like me to ask you a few questions."
The cylon's brow furrowed in a very human fashion. "Why doesn't he talk to me directly?"
"We don't speak the same language." Adama said briefly before he looked back to Cutter. "What do you want to say?"
"I'll skip over the obvious ones you've probably already asked it." Cutter directed at Adama. "I only have a few questions concerning the cylon centurion Red Team captured aboard Galactica."
"What about it?"
"When our engineers dismantled it, and hacked into its systems, they discovered a device that served as an inhibitor for higher cognitive processes. It was a robot in every sense of the word, unlike the ones your people fought in the first war. I want to know why that is."
Adama, who seemed to be just as curious about that bit of information relayed Cutter's question to the prisoner.
"That device you found was what the Cylons call a telencephalic inhibitor. The humanoid models installed them covertly in the Centurions years ago."
"Why would cylons want to lobotomize their own?" Adama asked freely without Cutter's prompting.
"To prevent the mistakes of the past." She replied as if it should be clear to them. "Keep the centurions from rebelling from us the same way they did to the Colonies. Humanoid cylons were the next step in cylon evolution but we still needed foot soldiers. And what better way to make sure your soldiers never question orders if they can't even think to ask."
It was an answer that intrigued Adama as much as Cutter. "So, the humanoid models are in charge." Cutter said pensively. "That's interesting. There's distinction in rank between the models then? What about the humanoid ones, is there one type in overall command?" Cutter asked and Adama relayed.
"No, they operate in consensus." She answered with a lingering unsaid caveat both men picked up on. "However… there are individuals even within the models that do hold some sway."
"I thought each model was programmed with their own personalities." Adama spoke. "That there was no individuality among a model's copies because of that."
"Am I the same as Boomer was?" she asked Adama.
"No," Adama admitted. "Not completely at least."
"Each copy's experiences are shared with the others of its model when we download to a new body but it will never be as equally felt as the one who actually experienced it. I guess that's just natural." She finished, seemingly aware of the irony.
Cutter took a second to consider the implications this brought to the table before he turned back to Adama. "Thank you for bringing me here Admiral, it was very enlightening." Though in the Captain's mind, it only raised further questions but ones that could wait for the time being.
"That's it then?"
Cutter glanced back at the eerily human appearing cylon. "For now. But if you do have any further intelligence on the Cylons gathered from your interrogation of this one, I hope you'll be willing to share it later."
"We'll head for the CIC then." Adama stated, hanging up the handset without a word to the prisoner before departing.
APRIL 23 2534, 0950 HOURS (UNSC TIME)
206 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
UNSC SPIRIT OF FIRE CFV-88
SHAW-FUJIKAWA TRANSLIGHT ENGINE ROOM
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
"Okay, everything should be ready," Chief Tyrol spoke as he checked the Colonial power adapter he'd fitted on to the UNSC power conduit cable that was as thick as his thigh. "Now all we need is an FTL drive to plug all this stuff into." He said, looking about at the assortment of tools and diagnostic devices he and Chief Prescott would need to make sure the integration went smoothly.
"Don't get ahead of yourself now," Prescott cautioned in his rustic sagely fashion. "We still got two more drives to install and we haven't even started on the one we don't have yet. Who knows what problems Spirit will throw at us once we really get to work." Galen had learned quite a bit about all the systems and the advanced technology that made Spirit of Fire run in the week they'd worked together. Galen felt like a kid again when he got to see the Spirit's fusion reactor nestled in the heart of Engineering, going over whether or not its output could affect the Spirit when she made a jump. But from what he'd learned, he thought this ship could fly to the end of the galaxy and back if she had to.
"Nah," he disagreed. "A state of the art girl like this, we'll have it all done inside of a week I bet." Galen estimated with positivity.
Prescott chuckled as he cleaned his tools with an oil-stained cloth.
"What?" Galen asked curiously.
"It's nothing, it's just I don't ever think I've heard anyone call Spirit state of the art before. Hell, she's about as old as me!" A smiling Prescott said.
"Wait, how old is she?"
Prescott rolled his jaw as he pondered that question. "Well, let's see here, current year is I think twenty-five-thirty-four, she was commissioned as a colony ship in twenty-four-seventy-three, so sixty-one years.
Galen's eyes widened. That made Spirit of Fire older than the Galactica if that was true. But Prescott said one other thing that caught the Colonial Chief's attention. "Hold on, you said colony ship, what does that mean?"
Chief Prescott set his socket wrench down and picked up a metal-cased power drill with a well-worn handle and checked the battery pack. "Spirit didn't start her life out as a warship, Chief. Her first commission was under Earth's Colonial Administration Authority to help colonize planets. Terraforming and passenger transport. I do believe she even paid a visit to Professor Anders' homeworld when that was just getting built up groundside." Prescott explained. "Then when the insurrection was starting to be a pain in the ass, the UNSC bought her up and had her completely refitted as a carrier and fleet support ship on account colony ships are about the only thing bigger than a frigate that can fly in-atmosphere."
"Gods, I thought this was a battleship!" Galen said with astonishment while Chief Prescott laughed again at what Galen had mistakenly thought of the Spirit.
"Yeah, compared to those tubs of yours, I bet you did." The older Engineer commented, setting the drill down. "Well, she's well-armed, all things considered but if it had been a heavy cruiser or one of those Epoch-class Carriers that took those 'cylon' nukes instead of her, the only thing the repair crews would have to do is replace a few sections of hull armor, simple as that.
Galen sighed both at his misconceptions and the Spirit's newly revealed capabilities. "You know, if we had just ten of these things, I bet we could march on back and retake the Colonies." The Chief postulated sadly.
"Well maybe we can help you out with that eventually. If our drive ever gets here." The older man said with a tone of annoyance, reminding Galen of why they had been waiting in the first place.
"Good question, what the hell is taking them so long?" he curiously asked.
APRIL 23 2534, 1004 HOURS (UNSC TIME)
206 DAYS AFTER CYLON ATTACK
BATTLESTAR PEGASUS BS-62
UNKNOWN SYSTEM
Over thirty minutes had passed, far longer than it was supposed to take to raise the FTL Drive up the cargo lift to the deck and it was making Lee annoyed.
"Pegasus, this is Pelican Flight, what's the hold up? Over." Major Heidegger hailed.
"Standby Pelican Flight, I'm going to check it out." Lee said, curious about that himself. He turned his chair at the station to the phone mounted on the wall and took the handset up. "CIC," he directed to the computerized operator system.
A moment passed as Lee's call was directed. "CIC," Lieutenant Hoshi responded.
"This is the XO at the Number-Two LSO station. I need to know status of the FTL Drive, I've got two dropships and a pissed-off UNSC Major from Spirit of Fire who have been sitting here for the past thirty minutes."
"Sir, Commander Garner has delayed FTL movement to the cargo lift temporarily, he's on a call with Colonial One. He says to standby, sir." Lee waited, puzzled as to why Garner would be on the phone with President Roslin.
"Major?" he heard Lieutenant Hoshi ask to test if he was still connected.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"The Commander wants you to instruct the Pelicans to position themselves on the cargo lifts to bring them inside, the Commander needs to speak with their commanding officer and he wants you there with him."
Lee didn't understand but he supposed orders were orders. "Copy, I will relay the Commander's instructions. XO out." With that, Lee hung up the phone and turned back to the station and opened a wireless channel back to the Pelicans and the deck's ground crews.
"Pelican flight, this is the Major Adama. I have been instructed by Commander Garner to direct your craft to the Number One and Two Cargo Lifts. The Commander wants to meet you inside."
"What the hell, this was supposed to be a hand off, not a meet and greet?"
"Those are the Commander's instructions." Lee spoke with nothing else he could offer.
"Fine, we are advancing to the cargo lifts and I better here a damn good explanation inside." The Major frustratingly confirmed.
"I'll see you down there." Lee signed off as he handed off his station to the other officer in the room.
\\\\\\O
Lee made it down first of course, being just a deck away. He entered through a hatch to catch his first up-close glimpse of a Thirteenth Tribe ship in all is ugly olive-colored glory. As he approached, the troop bay door under the tail of the lead Pelican opened and a man about Lee's height in a lightly armored flight suit and full-faced helmet stepped out at an impatient pace.
"I'm Major Lee Adama," Lee greeted, holding out his hand which the man shook but seemingly only out of politeness.
"Major Soren Heidegger, UNSC Air Force." He said with a brief tone through the helmet's synthesizer. "Mind telling me what the hell is going on Major?"
"I… wish I knew." Lee admitted with a smile that belied his own suppressed frustrations.
A sharp and loud creak coupled with the bangs of slamming doors stole his attention as a swarm of Pegasus' Marines flooded into the immediate area with weapons raised. Lee saw Major Heidegger reach for his sidearm but only had time to get a hold on the grip before six Marines had their rifles trained on his chest and he was forced to let it go with a quietly muffled curse. Another squad of Marines poured into the Pelican's rear and shortly pulled out the other two members of the flight crew as well as the flight crew of the other Pelican and pushed them to kneel in a line on the deck beside the Pelican.
Then from behind, the portly Commander Garner appeared as he stepped into the hangar deck under guard. "Commander Garner what's going on?" Lee demanded.
"You're in charge?" An outraged Major Heidegger asked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Placing you and your men under arrest." The former Chief Engineer of the Pegasus answered.
"What, on whose order?" Lee asked, barely believing what was happening.
"On mine and the President's, Major." Garner spoke with a short tone of implied authority.
Heidegger's head looked around, like Lee not believing the reality of the moment. "That's crazy, we have a truce!"
"Lieutenant Minth, take these men to the brig but leave two of the pilots under armed guard here and prepare for assault."
"Sir," the Lieutenant responded, relieving the Major of his silver-plated sidearm and zip-tying his hands behind his back before hauling him and the others off under much complaint from Major Heidegger who decried their and the Commander's actions as illegal, his voice growing ever fainter as he got further and further away.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Throughout history there have been very few black and white cases of right versus wrong. All motivations can be categorized into varying shades of grey and good people can do terrible things for reasons they feel are just. I liked the opening scene where the Quorum is talking about the moral consequences of involving the UNSC in the Cylon War, particularly because Cutter is potentially doing the same thing to them without the Colonials' knowledge.
ALSO: I'd like to thank everyone for their continued support of Guiding Fire and my other stories.