The Hour of The Wolf
Chapter Eleven

Authors note:-

Okay… Okay I got the reviews. Here's the next chapter. Calm down, I've not gone anywhere…

It was an abandoned mining base on the border between the two Empires. Originally it was established by her people, then left to decay when they had finally developed their mobile mining platforms. Years later the Klingons tried to take it over, but most of the valuable minerals had already been harvested. After a few fruitless years even those barbarians gave up.

Now it was officially forgotten by both, an unimportant corner of space with no resources or tactical importance. Perfect for clandestine meetings between them. The majestic might of the Romulan Star Empire and the thuggish savagery of the mongrel Klingons.

This had been her plan from the beginning and so far it had earned her a lot of support in the Senate. She had approached the most corrupt example of the species she could find and helped them rise to a position of prominence. Getting the Empire an ear in the Klingon High Council itself. She owed her career so far to this endeavour. Of course there were other gambits, but this was the one she had to see through. Which presented a problem

The truth was she despised Klingons, and this one specifically. For all their talk of honour and duty not one of them had the integrity to even stand up to Duras as he openly flaunted his greed before them. A despicable man, willing to sell out his own people for personal power and wealth. He lied, cheated with women and stole without care or even shame.

Worst of all he had ideas for her. Ideas she had no intention of entertaining.

He came out of one of the surface tunnels, a pair of guards dressed in their barbaric uniforms while Duras himself strode as if already an Emperor. 'Are you here, my love?'

'I am not your love.' She snapped, stepping out of the shadows. 'Hello Duras.'

'Commander Sela.' He said, 'How I have longed for your company once again.'

It took all her self control not to sneer. 'The same cannot said for me.'

'Yet you were the one that called me here. Why?'

The quicker she could get to the point the quicker she could leave. 'Wolf 359. The Federation pull resources from across the quadrant. A threat of Borg invasion. Panicked colonies. Whole sectors put on alert. Urgent requests for help. They even contacted us. They were so desperate for any support they could get, as if death itself was coming. And then nothing. Everything suddenly goes back to normal and the Borg threat vanishes as quickly as it came.'

Duras's smirk was offensive. 'And you want to know what I know. Whatever happened to the great Tal Shiar, Romulus's eyes and ears?'

'Oh, we have other methods.' She told him sharply. 'All we need from you is a little conformation. What happened?' The truth was they hadn't anything. Other than rumours of relief ships and secret meetings at the highest levels there was nothing. The Federation was keeping this secret very well.

Duras chuckled. 'A Federation tactic, using some new weapon they've designed. The truth is these Borg mustn't have been the threat they claimed.'

'The Federation are not ones to exaggerate Duras. The destruction of several Romulan Colonies across the neutral zone have been confirmed as Borg attacks. Attacks so swift and efficient we have yet to fully analyse them. It's far more likely the Federation have discovered a weakness. One they exploited.'

The traitorous Klingon sneered at her. 'If they have such a weakness then how is it your people haven found it yet?'

'Who's to say we haven't?' She shot back before looking at him critically. 'You underestimate the Federation, and the humans in particular. That could be a mistake.'

'And I think you overestimate them.' He said sharply. 'They're peacemakers, their weapons are words and when that fat oaf Kempek finally dies I will show them; words are no match for a blade.'

Sela kept her emotions from her face. 'And the Romulan Star Empire will be by your side. Should you need us.' Truth was she was having second thoughts about the whole alliance. It was quickly becoming time for them to cut their losses. Done right it could still be seen as a greater ploy.

It wasn't the unwanted advances, or her personal dislike. no her concern was far more practical. She'd researched her mothers people, their history and their ideals.

For all their talk of peace and friendship there was a dark thread running through humanity. War and conflict was in their blood as much as the Klingons. Terrible death and acts that were beyond anything even the darkest Romulan would be capable of. Sometimes she thought the real reason they preached peace was not that it was a higher ideal, but because they were truly afraid of what they would do otherwise.

Captain Apollo held his wife's hand as they looked out of the Enterprise. He was worried that she shouldn't be walking so soon, but trying to tell Sheba what you thought was best was impossible. Anyway, they had both wanted to see more of the ship and surprisingly there didn't seem to be any major restrictions.

Sheba's father had left for the Galactica, to meet with Adama and give him the news, leaving the three of them to explore. After wandering the ever curving corridors they eventually asked a passing crew member in a blue uniform for directions. Telling them they were looking for a view outside. Smiling, the crew member had told them they were heading to somewhere called Ten Forward and asked them to follow her. They had taken the three of them here, the ships lounge. It was similar to an officers mess, but open to all. The large room was at the very front of the ship, with huge windows like the sort you'd find on a Battlestar's command. Instead of control consoles and crew posts there were large comfortable chairs, tables and a bar. He managed to get Sheba to sit in one of the plush chairs.

Sleeping in his wife's arms, Apollo's daughter was blissfuly unaware of the sight in front of them. The two hundred ships of the colonial fleet being flocked over by Federation vessels. Tiny shuttlecraft delivering supplies and personnel where they were needed. It was a massive project, made all the more impressive by the speed at which it was being done. For nearly four decades the fleet had been held together by hope and dreams. Now at last they could address their wounds.

'…and here, ambassador, is Ten Forward. Perhaps the best place to see first hand the scale of what we're dealing with.' Captain William said as he came in to the large room.

Apollo turned to see who was with him. He was being followed by a much older man, dressed in a grey robe not unlike those of the Council. The grey green tint to his skin and pointed ears told Apollo he wasn't human. They were followed by a man in a white version of the Federation uniform and what looked to be a pair of civilians. 'Captain Apollo?' William blinked when he saw he was there. 'I heard you were with your wife.'

'I am' He pointed out as she stood up. 'Captain William Riker, this is my wife Captain Sheba and our new born daughter.'

William smiled openly, as did the civilians. The only person that didn't was the Ambassador. 'Congratulations to you both.' he offered, before turning to the older man he was escorting. 'Ambassador Spock, my I introduce Strike Captain Apollo of the Battlestar Galactica, his wife Captain Sheba and their daughter.'

He tilted his head. 'I too offer my congratulations. I wish both of you and your child peace and long life.'

'Thank you.' Apollo accepted what he assumed to be a standard blessing.

'Ambassador Spock is one of the Federations most accomplished representatives.' William explained.

'I have taken a personal interest in your arrival. I find your assertion that Humanity migrated to Earth millennia ago most fascinating.'

'We're not lying ambassador. The people of Earth are our brothers.' Apollo assured him.

William nodded. 'Our doctors agree, aside from some minor differences their as human as I am.'

The ambassador raised an eye brow. 'I was not questioning your claim Captain Apollo. Quite the contrary; I have often suspected my mothers people to have more in common with those of my father than was apparent.'

Apollo frowned and then looked to Sheba, but he could tell she was just as confused. 'Ambassador Spock is half human, on his mothers side.' The bald man explained.

'Many centuries ago my father's people split into two races. The Vulcans remained on our homeworld while the others left, naming themselves Romulans. They have become a people and culture unto themselves, but they are still very much like us.'

'A distant tribe.' Apollo said nodding as he remembered his history. 'After the first exodus from Kolbol and the twelve colonies were founded our people lost contact with each other. Many came to blame the others for hardships they faced. Difficulties like famine, diseases and disasters no one could stop. A lot of ancient devisions returned. After returning to the stars there was still distrust between us. It wasn't until we talked and listened to one another that we learnt we had all faced the same problems. It was our joint struggle against adversity that bound us once again.'

The old ambassador nodded. 'Unfortunately that can not be said of us. I have made a study of their history and the Romulans suffered greatly. They feel we Vulcans banished them from their rightful home to a life similar to what I understand you have recently suffered. Hounded by pirates and slavers they have learnt to become bitter to all others. It is their understanding that to prevent their own suffering they must destroy all opposition.'

'The Romulans have become very dangerous. More than a hundred years ago we went to war with them.' William admitted. 'Since then an uneasy truce has existed, with the Romulans a constant concern. Until the last few years though they have been busy elsewhere. Now they're back, and as big a danger as ever.'

'Hopefully, with what we can learn here, it might help us to prevent a war before it begins.' the bald man added. 'At least one war.'

'We'll help however we can.' Sheba said.

'Thank you, however before then I must talk with your people. Can you tell me something of your Commander Adama?'

Apollo smiled. 'Well first of all, I'm his son…'

Geordi had never felt so tired, but he needed to get this done. Pulling his VISOR off he rubbed his eyelids as he navigated around main engineering. He knew this deck like the back of his hand and had no trouble knowing where everything and everyone was.

Putting the VISOR back on he felt it click back in place before looking up. With the extra crews from the Admiral's fleet Data had been able to cycle some down time, but before he got to bed Geordi had arranged to meet with his department heads around what was known as the pool table. 'Alright everyone, before we call it a night we need to debrief. Chief, you and your teams were looking at hulls. What can you tell us?'

O'Brian looked as tired as Geordi felt. 'These things shouldn't be flying. They were never built to last half this long. We've got basic ware and tear, corrosion, even meteorite damage all mixed in with weapons scoring. Put simply I don't think any of these ships have more than a couple hundred lightyears in them. Some already need major support work.'

'Can we route any power to structural integrity?' Ensign Gomez asked

'They don't have structural integrity force fields' O'Brian told them. At best they have a magnetic containment field to retain atmosphere and pressure in their hanger bays but other than that…' he threw his hands in the air.

'Then we'll have to install some field generators.' She pointed out

'I'll pass that on to Data and the Captain.' Geordi promised. 'It will have to be on a emergency basis, but it might help. What have you got Sonya?'

'We were looking at engines. I haven't been able to figure out any Warp drive but I think I know how their thrusters work. They burn a highly unstable dilithium isotope they call Tylium. They have figured out a way to refine it into a combustable fuel source. It gives them massive amounts of thrust, far more than our impulse engines.'

'Until they run out of fuel.' O'Brian suggested.

'Until then, yeah.' Sonya shrugged, 'There's more though, because of the power of the engines they need near constant maintenance. Some of the major components are decaying and they can't be replicated.'

'Why not?'

'Too dense, and too complex. They're some sort of carbon bonded neutronium alloy. It's like nothing I've ever heard of. They've got spares for other parts, but even they are running low. Some ships only have emergency drives left and what they could salvage from what they've already had to leave behind.'

'Unless we can find them a home.' Geordi finished. 'Right, we've all got twelve hours. I'm going to complete a report for the Captain and forward it to Data. You all get some sleep. O'Brian, when your back on the clock I want your team off hull duty. Try and get hold of the some of these hyper-dense components, if one of their specialists comes with them all the better. If we can't build them maybe we can find substitute. For the short term at least. Sonya, forget FTL. I've been trying to get to the bottom of their power source, as far as I can tell they use some sort of capacitor system. It's not compatible with our forcefield technology for some reason and I don't want to have to install a complete subsystem if we do need to reinforce the hulls. Everyone else carry on with what you were doing. There is still a lot of work we need to get on with.'

'What about you Geordi?' Sonya asked

'I'm going to be with the command staff on the bridge. There's only so much we can do with these ships without a dry dock or a starbase. We need to find them a home. If not Earth, somewhere close by.'

They stood in the second landing bay, surrounded by personnel, his warriors and Council Security. Only about a quarter of them were on duty though, the rest were there to witness this meeting. Those that weren't were most likely watching through the information broadcast being sent from the Galactica to the rest of the fleet. They could have arrived by transporter, a device that shouldn't be possible according to everything Adama knew about physics, however it appeared that they too had a sense of occasion and this time they were, instead, taking a shuttle.

Over the last thirty centares Federation uniforms had become a common sight across the fleet. Their engineers took to what they called unfamiliar technology like they had been born with a torque-wrench in their hands. This though was different. The arrival of the Federation's Ambassador to begin official talks between the survivors of the Twelve Colonies and the vast alliance of peoples lead by their lost brothers.

Adama rubbed a thumb across his Seal of the Lords of Kolbol as it hung around his neck. Traditionally all members of the Council of Twelve had one. A link back to the original Lords and the great founding civilisation of humanity. Now it was perhaps the only one left. The others lost during the Battle of Cimtar, with the destruction of the Colonies.

It was part of his formal dress uniform including his silver lined blue cape and chains. Normally he wouldn't have worn it as the other Council members saw it as a rebuke. Now though he had to. This was the first official meeting between the Council of the Twelve and representatives of the Federation Council. The military had a certain latitude when it came to contact with other peoples, but politics demanded pandering to egos and an adherence to protocol.

To Adama's right stood the Council, in their official white and cream robes of office. To his left Tigh and Athena were in matching blue dress uniforms, with Starbuck and Boomer behind in their own auric and tan Warrior versions of the ceremonial uniform. Cain though was off to one side. Still in his adapted combat dress, as it would take something even more significant to get the old war dagget into a cape.

Far down the landing bay a small craft wobbled as it passed through the magnetic containment leading out into space. It was smaller, a lot smaller than Colonial shuttles and a lot less box like. It's curved edges making it look more like a smooth pebble and recessed thrusters appeared barely up to the task of moving it. However like almost all Federation vessels it had those strange pontoons that had to be field generations of some kind. As the small craft began to come to a slow stop it's anti-gravity drive kicked in with a soft purr and it turned to present the landing ramp.

In command Omega took the opportunity to start the Colonial anthem over the address system, it's soft bells only just audible before the tune truly kicked in. When Apollo and Captain William had contacted him with the arrangements for this he'd been far more interested in the beautiful girl child his son had with him. His granddaughter had such large eyes as she tried to take everything around her in.

Apollo had stayed on the Enterprise, co ordinating things over there and despite himself Adama dearly wished he was there too. However, as always, the fleet came first.

The shuttle's door opened and Adama easily recognised the Ambassador form Apollo's description. Tall and elderly in appearance he had none of the arrogance Adama had come to associate with career politicians. As a matter of fact from the cool, professional look the tall half breed gave his surroundings it was obvious nothing would or could phase this man. He was going to be a hard man to read. Behind him came Picard, along with two other humans.

Adama stepped forward and waited a moment for the Ambassador to approach. 'On behalf of the Council of Twelve and as Commander of the Battlestar Galactica welcome you to the Colonial Fleet, Ambassador Spock of the United Federation of Planets.'

'Commander Adama.' Spock replied with a nod of his head. 'On behalf of the United Federation of Planets I accept your welcome.' he then raised his hand in strange salute. 'It is a traditional greeting amongst my people to wish you to both live long and prosper. I understand you, however, are far more familiar with a variation on the handshake.' With that he lowered his hand.

Adama took it as an invitation and clasped the Ambassador's wrist. Around him the Colonials laughed and applauded. More than ever before their long journey was near the end.

End Chapter Eleven